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@threecontinents-blog1
“Please, don’t fuss over me. Just tell me where the hell I am.”
“Mrs. Hudson? Jesus-” John inspected her ass she spoke, “I have no idea. We all just appeared here. Sherlock’s here too- and Mycroft.” John added, before finally telling himself that Mrs. Hudson would be fine and calming down bit.
Before going out to meet the press
“At the moment, a lot of us are in the barn. Some are in town, I think.” Cas shrugged. “No one has a real set idea where they’re staying, though.”
“Hm...I suppose I’ll have to do a bit of searching.” He sighed and licked his lips, “Have you perhaps seen a man here by the name of Sherlock Holmes? Tall bloke, dark curly hair...?”
“Let me guess… another Doctor? Really, you people are like weeds. I almost feel like I’ve walked into a physician’s convention.”
“I’m sure you won’t be saying that when you’re injured.” he told the man, “I am a doctor though. An army doctor, to be exact.” he sat down, crossing one of his legs over the other, “I’m just trying to make myself useful.”Â
Amy blinked up at the sky, sleepily. She’d tripped on a tree root that was obscured by something (had to have been, in Amy’s eyes) and hit her head on something hard. She didn’t think she’d passed out, but she kind of wished she had, with the way her head was aching. “It’s fine,” she waved it off, sitting up, her vision dancing in front of her. There was a cut on her forehead; nothing too nasty, but would definitely be in bad shape if it got infected. But she was stubborn.
John looked at the cut on her head and knew better. “You are asking for an infection, and you have no idea what kind of diseases there are here.” The doctor looked around, “Perhaps we could try and find something to patch it up.” he noticed her dazed look at that moment and sighed shortly, “How many fingers am I holding up?” questioned the man as he held up three fingers.
“It appears that’s the case, yes.” Castiel nodded. “I believe my friend is from the past. He seems to be the only one that I know of not from 2016, which means…” He rambled. He didn’t want to unload his fear on John that his best friend might be dead. “Nevermind.”
John thought for a moment, “...That’s insane.” he murmured, “That’s absolutely insane.” he chuckled a bit. What else was new? His whole life was insane. honestly, this shouldn’t surprise him way too much. “So uh, are you all camped out somewhere?”
Mycroft oriented himself with the umbrella in his hand, frowning at the voice to understand from where it came. Mycroft walked towards the sound of the voice, or at least where he thought the sound came from, but he was right, John Watson was in front him now “Sherlock will be relieved to know that you are here” Mycroft pointed at Watson with his umbrella.
“Sherlock’s here? Where is he? Is he alright?” John asked, trying not to panic. “Where are we, Mycroft?” he questioned, “We were on our way back to Baker Street and...”
Sherlock smiled just a bit at the idea of finding a place to stay, about to suggest they go back to Baker Street, but remembered there was now no Baker Street to return to. “…Right.” He mumbled, the smile disappearing from his face. Maybe John was right.
John hesitated, then sighed a bit. “It’ll be alright, Sherlock. I’m sure we’ll find a way back to London. We will. How could we not? We’ve got the most brilliant man in the world on our side.” he teased a bit.
“Honestly, I think I could be more helpful if I could get my hands on some medical supplies.”
Blog post (open)
Danny: Wow, that's a lot of new people who've appeared. Sorry I haven't had the chance to say hello, was out on an expedition.
Danny: Thing is, the farm house is getting more than a bit cramped - at last count, we had 17 people here, and about 5 rooms that can really only sleep 2 people each. And there's a couch downstairs. And maybe we could squeeze 3 people into some of the rooms. But that's still a lot of people without rooms.
Danny: We need to start converting some of the other buildings around here into living quarters. I'm going to put together a team. Who's keen on finding a new home?
John: I need to find a place for me and my friend. I'd love to join in and help.
John: I don't know my way around here yet, and going in by myself is not a risk I'm willing to take at the moment.
John: Sherlock would probably like to join in as well, if you need more people. I could ask him.
Sherlock bit down on his lip, slowly moving away from John’s touch. He didn’t want to dive into what could very well be an illusion of his still-lingering high. “…I’m fine. John, don’t talk like that. We’ll get to see her again. Aren’t you usually the one telling me to be optimistic? I think this whole ordeal’s got us turned around.”
John put his hand down when Sherlock moved away from him. He cleared his throat. “Sherl, it’s hard to be optimistic when you’re stranded in a place that looks like the apocalypse.” He looked up at his friend. “Look, let’s just find us a place to stay, alright? I need sleep.”
“Wonderful! Almost the whole gang.” He smiled, clapping John on the shoulder. “You’re welcome, it’s wonderful stuff. You have a real talent. You should write more though, I’d read it.”
John chuckled a bit, “Yeah, just about...” he hesitated, his mind temporarily going to his child and...Mary. His wife. He had barely even thought about her. He smiled a bit when the Doctor mentioned writing, “I’ll think about it. Perhaps a good story is something we all need, yeah?”
“Is Sherlock here too?” The Doctor raised his brows and looked around, wondering where the famous detective could be hiding before bringing his gaze back down onto John. “But I’ve read your…” books? Wait- no! “blog! Lovely blog, thank you for sharing with the Universe!”
“Yeah, Sherlock’s here. Mycroft is too.” He told the Doctor, “Thank you for reading my blog. It was originally just a coping tactic suggested by my therapist. It got bigger than I imagined after Sherlock came into my life. I kind of wish I could write about what’s going on now.”Â
“I don’t think any of us do.” Castiel began to lead John out into the open, examining him up and down in proper lighting from the barn not too far away. “There are many of us here. Over ten or so, if I’m correct.” He stated bluntly, no hint of emotion to his voice. He still needed to work on his people skills. “What year was it where you were before coming here?” He decided he should ask this because he was still not sure if Dean was from another time-line.
John walked with Castiel, listening as he spoke. “And people just somehow...appear?” He tired to wrap his mind around the situation. When he was asked a question, he paused. “...2016...are people coming from different times?”
“Oh I’m trained in loads of things, cheese making is a favourite. But yes, just the Doctor, good to meet you.” He grinned waiting a moment before realising who the man was. His eyes grew wide as he reached out to take the man’s hand into both of his as he gave it a vigorous shake. “John Watson! Big fan! Wonderful to meet you!”
John chuckled at the cheese making bit, then raised his brow as he watched the man’s face when he realized who he was. “...Oh, so you know me. I don’t get that a lot. Usually Sherlock’s the one with fans.” he shook The Doctor’s hand back, “But, thank you all the same.”Â
Sam backed away as soon as the man jolted to his touch. He respected the man’s personal space.
“This might sound a bit crazy, but none of us can exactly find out the answer to that just yet.”
“..Right. Sorry, this is just a bit...crazy.” he looked at the taller, remembering his manners, “I’m John Watson.” he held his hand out.
Sherlock pursed his lips, recognizing John’s concern, but not quite sure how to deal with it. “…It’ll be alright, John. It’s not like we’re stranded on our own, there’s got to be something we can do to make this right… And I can get you back to your wife and daughter.”
John sighed, “...Perhaps I should...accept the fact that there’s a possibility I’ll never see my daughter.” He murmured, swallowing. “Are you alright, Sherl? I know this must be a bit hard on you too.” John reached over and touched his friend’s arm, trying to comfort him.
