Doctor Who: Fires of New York
Chapter 1: New York, New York
The shining lights that lined the TARDIS glowed with what was once warm ambience. The Doctor looks upon them as the floor beneath him shakes, and remembers when he would herald those lights with someone else. The beauty of this brilliant machine never failed to amaze him, even after 903 years of age. 903? 904? Who's counting, he's got a lot of time left anyway.
He wants to say something, some kind of comment on how beautiful his vessel is. But he holds it back, of course, since there's no one to listen. Out of longing, he looks to his right. Empty space. No Rose…no Martha…no Sarah Jane, no Donna…right. Donna.
Never again.
Well! No time to get lost in his head! Switching his mood to a lighter one as he feels the TARDIS slow to a stop, he springs to his feet and makes his way towards his door. June 12th, 2009, in 21st Century New York City! A few days after Torchwood's defeat of the…oh! Forgot my coat!...a few days after Torchwood's defeat of the 456, where America will be cheering in the streets as their troops participate in a manhunt for…screwdriver? Ah! Got it…participate in a manhunt for Prime Minister Green. Street festival – great chance for some American food!
With that happy thought overtaking his obvious loneliness, he cracks a smile and reaches to open the doors of the TARDIS. They swing open, revealing death and destruction. The city is ablaze with fires. Corpses lay strewn in all directions. Injured too. People are running all over the place. Few are running and hiding for their lives. Most are just adding to the mayhem. He looks above him—a water tower is falling off a roof, directly above him!
Back to the TARDIS! He steps back into the TARDIS doors – but the TARDIS is not there! "What?!" He turns in all directions, looking left, right, forward, back, up, down – the TARDIS is no longer around him. It's gone. The water tower is getting closer – the Doctor has no escape – he rolls out of the way, gets up, runs – CRASH – he's safe, though his pants are now quite wet from the loose water. Corpses are moved and buried beneath the current. So many bodies…
Where the hell am I?! He looks to his right – a small arch, resembling the Arc de Triomphe in Paris. Washington Square Park. I'm definitely in New York – WOAH! He ducks, as a Molotov cocktail passes over his head. He sees as it crashes a few feet away from him, and he dives out of the way to avoid its flame reaching him. He kneels, and brushes off his coat. "Oi! I just cleaned this thing! Queen Elizabeth would kill me!"
He stood up, and looked around. Time to ask some questions. He spotted the person who threw the cocktail. He ran over to him, and grabbed his arm, so as to get his attention. The man's eyes then fixed on the Doctor's. There was fire in them.
"Oi, sir, what's going on? Why are you lot rioting like this?"
But the man didn't answer. Instead, he opened his mouth and bore his teeth – his horribly sharp teeth. Futurekind? The man then kicked the Doctor, knocking him back a few feet, flat on his back. The Doctor watched as he ran away to wreak havoc somewhere else.
He looks to his right and spots a dumpter. Staggering to his feet and over to it, he slumps down behind it, using it as a hiding spot. He needs to think things through for a minute.
All right, I'm stuck in New York City, I got that part right. Now is this June 12th…he looks at his watch…July 5th, 2009? That can't be right, unless I misdialed the TARDIS again. I really need to stop that. He looks at his watch again. July 5th, 2009. Three weeks after where he meant to go. Three weeks since the 456 crisis. The one that he had no intention of intervening with. Jack was on the scene. He solved it.
"But these riots were never supposed to happen." The Doctor muttered to himself.
"Tell me about it." The Doctor heard the young, female, American voice to his left. He looked, and realized that he was so lost in his own head that he didn't even realize that someone was there. A young, pretty brunette girl in her twenties, no doubt, wearing a tank top and jeans. "It's friggin' crazy out there."
"Oh, hello! I'm the Doctor." The Doctor holds out his hand to shake, an inviting grin on his face.
The girl looks at it, skeptically. "Doctor Who?"
"Yeah, I get that a lot. No, I'm just the Doctor. Nice to meet you!" He keeps his hand out.
"How do I know you're not some pervert or something?"
"Oi! Is that what all you Americans think? If a stranger tries to be polite they're automatically being skeevy? No! I'm just trying to be friendly, as usual!" Keeps his hand out, keeps grinning.
The girl eventually shakes it, but still seems guarded. The Doctor acknowledges this. There must be a deeper reason as to why she's so protective of herself. It could be the riots. Perhaps she's just scared. Perhaps she doesn't know who to trust anymore. Understandable.
"Look, um…oh, my apologies, I didn't catch your name."
"Danielle."
"Danielle, we need to get out of here and we need to get out of here right now. Do you know of anywhere we can go? Anywhere safe?"
"Well," Danielle started, but then stopped. It was obvious that she didn't trust him fully.
"Danielle, I'm just someone who's trying to protect their own life, just like you. We need to get somewhere safe. Now do you know a way or not?"
Danielle hesitated, but finally, "There's a makeshift shelter in the sewers. It was set up before the riots started, a couple of people anticipated this would happen. I tried to get in a few minutes ago, but every manhole I find is sealed shut. We're trapped out here."
The Doctor smirks, and then starts rummaging through his pockets. "Entrances sealed shut, eh?" He then produces what looks like a stocky silver screwdriver handle. He flips a switch, and the blue light at the end glows, with an eerie whirring sound emanating from it. Which is odd, because the thing doesn't seem to have any speakers. He then switches it off, and his face bursts into a grin. "You needn't worry about that. Now – where's the best entrance?"
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