Author's Notes

Twelfth Doctor Adventures part 8.

WARNINGS: This adventure follows some of the darker themes explored in previous instalments, with allusions to mental health issues, including depression and self-harm. I try to depict characters as 'real' as possible. I in no way intend to glorify any of these issues through storytelling - I encourage anyone suffering from a mental health problem to seek help, either from a doctor, or a friend you trust.

The story so far...

In spite of Kate Stewart's warning, the Doctor is still travelling through time with Charlie – they have saved each other's lives a few times now.

Charlie may have earned the Doctor's trust, but there are dark forces stirring. The Doctor's faced with more questions about his companion: Who is Nate, and what significance does he have in Charlie's story? And what is it about the boy that doesn't quite make sense?

The end is coming for the Doctor and Charlie…

What is your worst nightmare?

What is the one thing you fear to see in your dreams?

What are you so afraid to admit?

The Doctor was getting close to working out the truth, wasn't he? Is that why you chose to act?

Did you have any idea what would happen next?

Let's take a peek, shall we?

"No. No!"

The voice was screaming, so afraid.

Then, so quietly: "I've made a mistake."

Three months earlier…

The world was heaving with kids tumbling over one another in an attempt to escape this hellish place.

Chaos.

Screams.

The shorter kids were shoved back through the doorways they were fleeing from, as a train of footballers rampaged through the building.

It took half a minute for eighty percent of the kids to escape from the building.

Now, there were just a few stragglers, who clearly weren't too fussed how quickly they claimed their freedom – just as long as they did.

It was at this point, Charlie Drake decided that it wasn't suicidal to walk the opposite way down the corridor, and it was safe to leave the classroom and go find his locker.

This was Charlie's school and sixth form college. A place he would be all too happy to leave behind someday soon.

He ambled along those ransacked halls, locked in a virtual world as he scrolled through the texts on his phone.

Someone bumped into him, almost knocking his mobile out of his hand.

Charlie sighed, spinning round to confront the careless schoolkid – when he realised it wasn't a kid at all. It was an old guy. Some teacher or caretaker he sort of recognised, but didn't really know. He'd probably just seen him somewhere around the school.

It probably wouldn't be worth an hour's detention to demand that he look where he's going next time.

He found his dented locker, and opened it.

These were the sixth form lockers – unlike all the other school lockers, they had once been painted a brilliant blue, a symbol of sixth form superiority, demanding respect. Which of course explained why half of the locks were busted. If you wanted to keep something safe, you didn't leave it in a locker.

Charlie chucked his books to the back of the locker space, and grabbed his hoodie.

A pamphlet for a university poked out from underneath a stack of old exam papers, and he cursed silently.

The thought of making the decision on where he'd be in a year's time filled him with dread.

He was about to shove it back into that wretched corner of his locker, and forget all about it.

After a moment's thought, he changed his mind, and crumpled it into his pocket instead.

Maybe it was time to confront his fears…

"Charlie…" Nate voice uttered from the other side of the metal door.

His heart sank.

Charlie slammed his locker shut, revealing Nate standing awkwardly behind it.

"Can I talk to you for a moment?" Nate's voice was a little higher than usual, as though he was working up the courage just to speak to him.

Charlie threw him an unimpressed look.

"I know you've been avoiding me," Nate continued, staring down at his shoes; a pair of battered sneakers, barely holding together after years of abuse.

"I haven't," Charlie snapped, immediately going on the defensive.

"You have. I-I honestly don't blame you."

"Right. Fine," Charlie dismissed, looking around at the last dregs of students milling about in the corridor.

Nate was aware of them, too.

He sighed, pulling agitatedly at his lips.

"Can we go somewhere? I don't want to talk here."

"I'm busy," Charlie protested.

Nate frowned. "But school's over."

"I've got stuff to do."

"Like what?"

"I've got these physics papers to get done before tomorrow. And I need to think about university stuff."

"That doesn't matter," Nate grunted.

"Yes it does!"

Nate shook his head, blinking rapidly.

"Just… just let me explain," he whined.

"You don't need to," Charlie spat, a little more forcefully than was strictly necessary.

Nate looked hurt. He was taking short, sharp breaths, like he was on the verge of a panic attack, or about to throw up.

"I screwed up. I'm sorry," he managed.

"You don't need to apologise," Charlie uttered, a little more carefully, this time.

"Please. I am." Nate was almost begging. "If you're not talking to me because I'm… you know…"

"I don't!" Charlie took a deep breath, and began again, calmly. "I don't care about that, Nate."

"I know you don't," he mumbled in reply.

"That doesn't matter. I just…" Charlie bit his lip, fumbling with the keys in his pocket, "I don't want this in my life right now."

Charlie finally looked at Nate.

Nate was on the verge of tears. His blue eyes were shimmering; wide and pleading.

Charlie felt a sharp stab of anger. He had an urge to shout at him – vent all of his frustration in an intense burst of rage.

He held back, though. He didn't want either of them to get hurt.

Nate's eyes, vulnerably underlined with a cluster of freckles, turned to the words on Charlie's t-shirt.

"I think I understand, but…"

Charlie interrupted him. He couldn't let this drag out any further. He had to get away.

"I've got to go home, Nate."

"Charlie, please just…"

Nate shook his head, pinching his eyebrow in frustration.

"Charlie, please…"

Charlie couldn't think of a refusal. "Okay. Well."

Nate stopped. He stopped begging for them to talk. He gave up.

"Okay. Bye. Charlie."

Nate's voice was tense, quivering. Holding back a tsunami of emotion.

Charlie pulled himself away.

It was like there was a thread, pulling away the fabric of his world. Everything was unravelling all around him, and he was doing nothing to try and stop it.

He turned around, and walked away. Out of the building, out of the school gates, and down the street.

Nate was ringing him.

Charlie ignored his name flashing up on the screen.

He felt a little guilty as he switched his phone off, and shoved it back in his pocket.

The guilt was bad enough for him to stop, and turn back for a moment.

Maybe he should go back.

He couldn't make up his mind. Was he ready to face what he was really afraid of?

No. Not yet. He needed some space. He needed time.

He kept on walking. The paving slabs slid beneath his feet as he drifted home.

"Tomorrow," he said aloud.

Tomorrow was Saturday. Loads more time on a Saturday.

It wasn't really about the time though.

He wasn't busy at all.

"Okay, tomorrow. I'll wait 'til tomorrow," Charlie promised himself.

That guilt he felt echoed through his mind, tormenting his future, invading his dreams. It called out to him in his nightmares, tormenting him in his future travels through time and space.