Doctor Who/Sherlock Oneshots

What Really Happened At Reichenbach(Wholock)

I wrote this as an essay for school. Sorry if some stuff is a bit confusing. I tried...

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There was a dead man laying on the roof of St. Bartholomew's Hospital. Jim Moriarty laid there with ripe, crimson blood spilling out of the back of his head. The gun that he shot himself with was enclosed within his limp, pale hand. Jim's facial expression was oddly calm. It was as if he took pleasure in shooting himself. It would take anything to break Sherlock Holmes; including his own life.

Sherlock Holmes stood on the very edge of the roof, a feeling of coldness, or rather fear, surrounding him. Fear: that very feeling that he refused to admit. It pressed him with an overbearing sense of what was yet to come. As every single second passed by, it seemed incredulous that one of his only three friends in the world could be dead. At any moment, the snipers could strike. That was the fear that chilled his spine, gnawed at his heart, and expressed a terrifying sensation of emotion.

Jim had taken the three closest people in Sherlock's life and had them under strict surveillance. They would die unless he jumped. James Moriarty, the Consulting Criminal, had been ahead in the game set several years prior to this unfaithful event. It was a checkmate. One way or another, someone had to die. It couldn't be Mrs. Hudson, or Lestrade, or John, for that matter. Therefore, it had to be him. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cellphone. He would make one last call.

---

"Ta-da! Here we are!" exclaimed the Doctor with an ungraceful, dramatic-intending swoop of his lanky arms. "Go out and take a look for yourself."

"Well, I really hope it's not some weird planet where giant wasps fly around," said Clara as she started to open the door, "because otherwise, that would be really unfortunate. I hate wasps." She stepped out while talking to him, but in the process, didn't look where she was going. When her foot stepped out of the TARDIS while talking to him, she felt absolutely nothing beneath her and started to rise upward. "Hey! You didn't ever tell me that we were just going to float around in a random place in space!"

"It's not just any random place, Clara, it's the HORSEHEAD NEBULA!" said the Doctor as if he were an excited six-year-old talking about candy. "Isn't it beautiful?"

Clara's brow creased. "Yeah, but didn't all your companions think that floating in eternal space was a bit queasy?"

"Oh, come on. Don't be a party-pooper. I'll hold your ankle."

"Fine."

As she floated along with the TARDIS, she saw beautiful, gleaming, colorful stars. Her chestnut curls rose up above her forehead, making her appear like a variation of a lucky troll doll. The stars were combined with inexplicable darkness; not the kind of darkness that was there when she closed her eyes, but rather a darkness that was much blacker and empty than the normal shadows. She didn't really know how that worked, exactly. Clara felt lost in an eternal abyss of nothingness; consisting of...stars. This went on for around ten minutes of so; she never thought it was going to end. It was what she thought until she felt a sudden jolt and was yanked into the TARDIS.

"HEY! What was that for?" she asked, shocked to feel her feet back on a solid surface.

"I got a visit from my future self. And check it out! I got a free dummy!"

"Dummy? It looks EXACTLY like a person! A DEAD person. More person-y than any dummy I'd see," said Clara, a bit horrified.

The dummy that much resembled a dead person was wearing a black, wool trench coat and a blue scarf. It had a pale face with prominent cheekbones, which looked a lot like the Doctor's. The dummy, or mystery dead man, had a curly mop of black hair that unintentionally had him look like a very, very, photogenic cauliflower. There was a striking smear of blood on the side of his head, like he just hit his temple VERY hard.