So, I write on LiveJournal. I like to fill prompts. So, I guess I shall be reposting stories from over there onto here because hey, I have nothing to lose!
I hope you enjoy this little fill I did, calling for Rachel Berry meeting the Tenth Doctor.
DISCLAIMER: I own NOTHING. Not Glee, not Doctor Who, NOTHING. All of the characters belong to the respective writers of both shows, I just come up with the plot.
The wind lashed at her hair, almost yanking it from her head. The tears streaming down her cheeks had long since turned into a thin sheet of ice, though they still poured. She hustled along, high heels clacking on the icy road, clutching herself in a feeble attempt to keep somewhat warm in the bitter cold.
It was dark out, the only light coming from the yellow street lamps, which barely made a dent in the pitch-black darkness of the cold winter night. It was past ten, and her cell phone had long since died, so she clutched her rape whistle tightly in her hand, which was stuffed into her armpit. The cold metal dug into her flesh, but she couldn't feel it. She couldn't feel anything.
Finn, the insensitive jerk, had sped away in his truck without even offering her a ride, though he'd taken her there in the first place. She was therefore left to trudge to the nearest main road to try to catch a cab or a bus or something. If it got any colder, she thought, she might have just died.
Rachel was seriously considering finding an alley to disappear into, curling up to die, when she saw it.
It was tucked neatly into an alley, the kind she had envisioned in her plan. It was masked in shadow, so that the light of the nearest street lamp barely let it show. Whoever had placed it there was either extremely convenient or extremely cunning.
Rachel looked around, seeing if there was anyone around. Of course, there wasn't, and her curiosity got the best of her. She shuffled over to the object, suddenly full of energy, sneakily, as not to attract any attention from the people that weren't there.
She placed a bare hand on its cold surface, unflinching. It was made of wood, painted a deep-and pretty-blue. Various scratches and scars looked dull, but old. Whatever this thing was must have been old. However, it was also new-looking. She decided that it could be both. It was a funny thought: a box both ancient and brand-new. The illuminated sign near the top said 'Police Call Box,' though she wasn't sure what that meant. She'd never seen anything like the box before.
She noticed a sign on one of the box's doors, and squinted until she could barely make it out. The sign basically said that it was some sort of telephone booth for the use of the public, from what she could gather. Confidence filled Rachel up as she realized that if she could figure out how to use it, she could make a phone call to one of her dads and has one of them pick her up. She placed a hand on one of the handles, and tried to open the door. It didn't budge.
She yanked harder, shaking the door in a manner that would normally open it, if it were normal. The confidence had faded away and the tears had started streaming again as Rachel realized that the door was locked, and there was no hope. However, she continued to shake the door, hoping in vain that it would magically open.
"Open, please," she cried, shaking it violently with all of her strength.
"OI! WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING?" she heard an angry-sounding voice yell.
Rachel jumped, back, her heart beating rapidly. She spun around to see a man mere feet behind her. She hadn't even heard him approach. She blushed madly and tried to think of an excuse for why she was standing in an alley, shaking the door to a telephone booth that wouldn't budge.
"Uh," she said, avoiding his glaring eyes, "I thought this was some sort of telephone booth, and I…I just need a ride home. My boyfriend broke up with me, and my cell phone died, and it's cold, and…"
At this, she couldn't hold back any more tears, and they once again started streaming down through all-too familiar paths down her cheeks. She put her face in her hands and started sobbing, not even bothering to hold it back.
"Oh, well…I'm sorry, missy. Is there anything I can do for you?" the man asked, sounding a bit taken aback. She heard him step closer and felt a gentle hand being placed on her shoulder. She looked up to take in his appearance, etch it into her memory, as she always did with faces.
His hair was wild, though it looked like it had been styled that way. He sported a pinstriped suit, oddly paired with a worn pair of Converse sneakers and a long brown coat. He looked at her over sharp rectangular glasses, making him look all the more serious.
"I…I just need to get home." Rachel whimpered, her sobs starting to subside in the slightest bit.
"I…I guess I can give you a ride." The man said, looking around cautiously. There was nobody around, though, so Rachel wondered why he was so nervous-looking.
"Do you have a car?" she asked, searching for one in the narrow street. There was not one in sight.
"Actually, no, but I have something better." The man said, patting the telephone box.
"What? A locked telephone booth? Because the last time I checked, telephone booths weren't a common mode of transportation." Rachel said sarcastically, though she was somewhat curious.
"Actually, it's," the man said, though he stopped and smiled before continuing his sentence, "You know what? You'll see."
The man pulled out a key from his pocket and unlocked the door, and pushed it open. He gestured for her to get inside, and she did so cautiously, expecting to be inside a cramped space. However, when she stepped inside, she saw not a telephone booth, but something more.
The interior was enormous, though hard to explain. It was dome shaped, with a control area in the center, though doors led to everywhere, and Rachel imagined endless worlds behind the doors in those halls. A series of strange noises were coming from the control center, though they all worked in harmony, as if they were some sort of symphony. A steady hum ran, providing a bass for the noise: in the background, yet very distinct at the same time.
Rachel's eyes widened as she took in the sight of the thing. She heard the man step inside behind her and close the door. She turned to see a smug expression on his face, though there was also another emotion dominating his features at the same time: love. It almost looked like he was in love with the thing. It showed in the way he looked up to the top of the interior, as if he'd never seen it before, the way he smiled constantly while inside.
The machine, in turn, loved him back. It hummed affectionately when he entered, and the buttons seemed to shine a bit brighter, the noises seeming to be a bit smoother, as if the whole machine was embracing his entrance. The changes between the man and the machine were subtle, but Rachel was to smart not to notice them. However, she kept quiet, not wanting to ruin the peaceful bond between them. She had questions, and wanted answers.
"Yes, it's bigger on the inside, but yes, it's real. It's called the TARDIS, stands for Time And Relative Dimensions In Space. It's a time machine. It can go to any planet, any galaxy, any universe, any time you want, any time period you desire to visit. It's quite the beauty, isn't it?" the man said, smiling admiringly at the controls. He hopped up to the control center, clicked a few buttons, pulled a few levers, and spun around to face her
"Yes, you have questions, I presume." he said, as if he could read her mind. She hoped he couldn't.
"No, I can't read your mind, but you're pretty easy to read by your face. You're an actress, I presume?" he said casually before she could say anything.
"How did you do that?" Rachel asked, surprised.
"You're very expressive, more so than most humans are," the man said, crossing his arms and looking amused as he leaned back, "The true sign of an actress is the way her emotions are expressed."
Rachel pretended not to notice his compliment of a sort, though she was flattered, and instead focused on one phrase he'd said. "Most humans? What are you, NOT human or something?" she asked, raising her eyebrows and crossing her arms.
"Actually, no. I'm a Gallifreyan, although we've been referring to ourselves as 'Time Lords' as well. I'm the Doctor, by the way." The man said, not missing a beat. It was like he had a script or something, and he was expecting every question.
"Gallifreyan? What country is that? And what kind of a name is the Doctor?" Rachel asked, annoyed with him seemingly mocking her.
"The planet Gallifrey, of course. And it's my name. What's yours?"
"Rachel Berry," Rachel replied curtly.
"That's a lovely name, Rachel Berry. It sounds very…fruity, pardon the pun." The Doctor said, cracking a smile. Rachel couldn't help but lighten up at that one. She giggled and smiled a bit at the Doctor.
"Pun pardoned," she said, smiling and joining him up at the control center, "And it's very nice to meet you." She extended a hand, which the Doctor shook warmly.
"Well, I suppose we better be getting you home." He said, smiling and turning to the controls.
He pulled some levers, punched in some numbers, and pulled a giant lever. The whole TARDIS lurched, and Rachel grabbed onto the nearest railing to keep from crashing into something. The humming grew louder, and morphed into an indescribable noise, most clearly explained as sort of a schwoop schwoop. The Doctor looked like he was used to it, though. He was smiling and laughing as he looked up at the center of the TARDIS. Rachel shook her head as she laughed along with him. He was absolutely mad, though in a good way.
After a couple of seconds, he pushed the lever back in, and the shaking ceased, quieting into the soft hum it was before. The Doctor straightened up and held out a hand for Rachel to take. She used it to pull herself up, and brushed herself off, still a bit shaken.
"Well, here you are." The Doctor said, walking towards the door.
"How did you know where I live?" Rachel asked cautiously, making her way towards the door.
"Lucky guess," the Doctor said, shrugging, "That, and you have your address engraved into your whistle." He held up her rape whistle, which she must have dropped at some point. She sheepishly took it back, mumbling an incoherent thanks.
Rachel opened the door to see her backyard, in its greatness. She took a few steps, then turned around. The Doctor was standing in the doorway, watching her.
"So it's true?" she asked him.
"What?" he said, confused.
"You're a time-traveler? A real time-traveler? You've seen galaxies and planets and moons?" she said, smiling a bit.
"Yep, it's all true," The Doctor said, smiling and nodding, "Do you want to see some?"
"See some what?" Rachel asked, frowning.
"Everything? Rachel, I can take you anywhere, any time. Anywhere you want. We can be back in five minutes. Or two, even." The Doctor said, getting excited and smiling. However, he frowned when he noticed that Rachel's expression hadn't changed. She managed to give him a small smile, though it wasn't one of happiness.
"Doctor," she said softly, shaking her head, "I'm flattered, really. I'd love to go with you, really. However, you have your story, and I have mine. I'm pretty sure that I'm not the right person to be traveling with you, at least not right now. I have a lot of things on my mind that I need to get settled, and running away from my problems won't solve anything. It may work for you, but it won't for me."
"How did you-"the Doctor started to ask, but Rachel put a hand up to stop him.
"I know what it's like to run away. I can see it in your eyes. You're running. You're alone, yet looking for someone to distract you, to join you. Doctor, you can't run forever. Trust me, I've tried." Rachel said, shaking her head. She gave a small wave, said "I wish you luck," then turned, and walked towards her house. She faintly heard the humming/schwoop sound as she made her way towards her bedroom quietly, as not to wake her dads.
"Goodbye, Doctor," she whispered, smiling to herself.