"…Can I turn on the radio?"
"No."
"…Please?"
"I said no. It's bad enough I'm driving on this God forsaken road, getting gravel stuck in the engine, but it's raining and it's dark, too. I don't want any distractions. Mom'll kill me if I get into another car accident, and you know that. We can't afford the insurance rates."
"But you said the radio helps you concentrate when you're driving."
"Yeah, in normal conditions. Once the rain lets up, we can turn on the radio, okay?"
There was a huff in the darkness, followed by an annoyed and dragged out, "Fine." Crackling gravel shuddered under the weight of a small car as it trudged down a very rural road in the country side. Rain drops slammed their fragile little bodies against the exterior of the car, and wildly, wind shield wipers whipped back and forth so the driver of the small car could see. She crept along slow, trying very hard to stay in the center of the road and away from the very large puddles which could soon be classified as very small lakes.
The driver was young in appearance, but not young in spirit. Her eyes had a glassy, glazed look, as if she were staring through the rain at something far away, and not the rain drops splashing onto the wind shield. Light wrinkles stretched across her forehead and near her eyes, for she spent a lot of her time frowning in disproval, or confusion. Nervously, she drummed on the steering wheel.
Next to her was the only passenger in the car—a young boy, very perky and carefree, normally. At the moment, however, he sat somberly, his eyes glued to the scenery he could barely glimpse through the rain. Both were ill dressed for the weather—only wearing jackets when they should have rain coats, tennis shoes when there should have been boots.
The car was slowly driving on the gravel—there wasn't pavement or blacktop for miles. A few houses, with the occasional farm house and animals, dotted the sides of it. Tall fields with wild grass swayed in the harsh wind. No street lights lined the road, not even a power line in sight.
The boy tapped his leg rhythmically for a few more moments.
"…How 'bout now?"
"For Christ's sake!" the driver exclaimed, lifting her hands and slamming them down on the steering wheel. "No! Does the weather look any better? Do you want to drive—wait a minute, don't answer that—"
The two siblings continued bickering in the car, inattentive to their surroundings. If the boy had still been looking out the window, or if the girl had been eyeing the road, one of them would have noticed the large growing mass shuffling through the field. Something large rose from the field, and lumbered towards them at first. Then ever so slowly, it began to pick up speed, and hurtled towards them.
The girl said, "Look, wait until we get on the main…" She trailed off in mid-sentence, looking past the boy in slight wonder as the hulking object came closer. "Jesus CHRIST!"
She slammed on the gas pedal, and the tires squealed as the car lurched forward. The black blob stumbled past the back of the car, just nicking the bumper and causing the car to slide forward. The creature had been moving so fast, it had kicked up mud and splattered it across the back window. The girl flicked on the back wiper, and the mud was pushed away by the blade and the rain. Then she quickly slammed on the breaks as the car started to slide towards the ditch filled with water lining the side of the road. It was a jerky stop, but they had not become submerged in water.
"What the hell—?"
"AVERY!"
The boy shouted in panic, grabbing her sleeve and pointing out the front windshield. Whatever it was, the creature was down the road a ways, just out of reach of the head lights. It had plopped itself down in the middle of the road.
"What is that?" Avery asked quietly, more to herself than to her brother.
"M-maybe a deer?"
"Have you ever seen a deer that big?"
"Then it's a moose."
"Do moose live around here?"
"They live in Canada."
"But here too, right?"
"I don't think it's a moose, John."
The two got their answer soon enough. By now, Avery was fumbling for the high beams and flicked them on. Light flooded the rainy darkness, and fell on the giant shadow before them. It shuddered in the rain, its skin almost blending in with the scenery behind it. Its large head, outlined by the rain, swiveled on a stalk of a neck, with one large, gaping mouth hanging open. Teeth fashioned like broken shards sat on pale purple gums, the teeth as clear as glass. Spider-like legs—too many for anyone to count—fidgeted and trembled, with one foot, each having clawed three fingers, on the end of each thin leg. The skin on its feet was slippery and discolored by the mud, easier to spot than anything else.
"Avery, what is that?" whispered John, his voice high and squeaky with fear. "What is it?"
"I…" Avery began to say, words dying in her throat. She blinked a few times, and rubbed her eyes. It was still there when she opened them. She took a deep breath, and said in an incredibly calm voice, "…Well, it's not a moose or a deer, that's for sure."
Without warning, the beast turned its head completely towards their car. It only had one eye that was a solid, milky white. The other eye socket was empty. That single, unblinking eye focused on them. Both children cringed in their seats. It rose to its feet, and in an instant all the legs were working together like clockwork to send the creature barreling towards the car. Avery shifted into reverse and hit the gas pedal, sliding backwards, but the beast was too quick. It took a leg as it reached them and slammed it against the hood of the car. Both children shrieked as the car's back flung upward from impact, shaking them in their seats. The car engine choked and died, and the headlights went out.
For a moment, the only thing the children could hear was the rain drumming on the body of the vehicle. The beast slowly raised its hand off the hood. It was when there was a loud, rumbling cough that the two realized how dangerous this creature really was. As their eyes adjusted in the darkness, they saw the beast move. Its lips pulled back to show its ruined teeth in a sick, gleeful grin. Avery grabbed the keys in the ignition and tried to start the car to no avail.
"Avery, do something!" John cried, grabbing his sister's arm and holding tight. Avery did. She reached into the back of the car behind her driver's seat, and grabbed a small baseball bat the size of her arm. She set it on her lap and unbuckled her seatbelt. John unbuckled his seatbelt, too, and eyed his sister warily. "Wait, you aren't going out there, are you?"
"No. This is just in case the thing tries to break the window."
Unfortunately, that was the least of their problems. The beast, using a few of its hands, pealed the roof off the car effortlessly, like it was opening a can of sardines. It glanced from the passenger to the driver, a long purple tongue running over its lips, trying to decide which one it wanted to eat first. Rain poured onto the two in the car, drenching them both instantly. Avery glared at the monster, daring it to come closer to her. She held a firm grip on her baseball bat.
"Hey, ugly!" she said, pointing the baseball bat towards it. "Back off!"
The monster reared back in surprise. Apparently, its meals had not ever shown resistance before. True, it was used to the screaming and the tears and the snot running out of people's noses, but the fact that these two hors d'oeuvres weren't running in fear wasn't going to stop it from eating them. One arm shot around the side of the car and ripped off the passenger door. John screamed as it went to grab at his face.
With a crack, Avery slammed the bat down on the beast's hand. The hand shot back, and the creature shook it back and forth, surprised that it had been attacked by its meal. The bat broke in half, and the top half fell to the bottom of the car.
"Aw, no you don't!" Avery said coldly, hand adjusting on the bat.
The monster bent down over the car, sticking its head right near Avery. Its breath reeked, and Avery wrinkled her nose in disgust. John whimpered, watching the white eye zone in on his sister. Avery, however, had a stone expression. Her teeth were grit together, and she held the bat in front of her as a warning. "Don't make me stab you in your eye. I will. No one hurts my car. Or my brother." She paused for a moment, considering her statement. "Mainly my brother—forget the car, you can have it, if you want. Now that I think about it, perhaps it'd be better if the car disappeared instead of Mom seeing it."
"Shlock," The beast grunted, and it grinned. Avery's stony expression faltered. The beast seemed to be mocking them, humoring Avery and her quiet rambling. It knew that these two pathetic meat bags had no chance against it. Its hand flexed above Avery, deciding on which of the two to take his pick. The beast decided that the larger one with the annoying, pain bringing blue stick should go first.
Avery got the message.
"…Go!" she shrieked. John bolted from his seat in the car, just as Avery was knocked backwards. The boy glanced back, and saw that his sister as held aloft by the creature. There was a crackle in the air as lightning shot across in the background.
John turned around to go back. It was his sister back there. He wasn't leaving her.
"GO!" she bellowed again, noticing that he wasn't running.
The beast screeched in triumph, and John did what he was told, instincts taking over. He ran as fast as he could. Originally, Avery could run faster than he could. She was older, taller, and had more leg muscle because she was a girl. Yet, Avery could not run now. Her leg had been bashed up in a horse accident weeks prior. It was still difficult for her to walk, far less run. If he could find a way to get her out of that thing's grip, there was no way they could get away.
He had to find help.
But where? John thought, still running with all his might. He ripped through the grass and splashed through puddles, trying to put as much distance between himself and the monster. He wasn't looking where he was going. As soon as he turned around to see if he could still see his sister—to make sure she was still okay, he fell into a hole.
Or, more specifically, a river bank several feet below the ground he had been running on. He rolled down the muddy slope and was thrown into the rushing water. It wasn't enough to hurt him, and he got to his feet as quickly as he could to keep running.
He barreled straight into a telephone booth. It had just appeared there. John held his nose and exclaimed, "Ow!" before looking at it. Maybe it had been there since he fell—he wasn't sure. He just knew that it was there now.
The only odd thing about this telephone booth was that it was blue. And it said Police box on the top. On the side, there was a worn sign that said, Police Telephone, Free for use of Public. Advice and Assistance obtainable immediately, officer & cars respond to all calls, pull to open.
Strangely convenient, yes, but John pulled the door open and dashed inside anyway, trying to understand why there was a blue telephone box that said police box on it in the middle of nowhere around nine o'clock at night in a ditch. He just needed to get on that darn phone and call 911, or animal control, or someone! Anyone that would listen and help.
John was prepared to grab the phone hanging on the wall opposite of the door. The only problem was there wasn't a phone in sight.
John had stumbled into an extremely large, very bright room. The floor he stood on and tracked mud in as he shuffled inside with amazement, his mouth hanging open, was transparent like glass. A golden glow like a warm summer morning hung in the air was everywhere, with a large, circular control panel in the middle of it all. Staircases sprouted from the center of the room and led off to who knows where.
"What the—this place is huge!" he exclaimed, throwing his hands up. He glanced around a bit more, leaving muddy footprints where he went, and scrambled up to the control panel in the middle. All sorts of buttons, wires, levers (and even a typewriter?) were everywhere. But nowhere, anywhere at all, was there a phone.
"Shit!" the young boy exclaimed. He normally didn't swear—but he did when his sister wasn't around to yell at him. "What's the point of having a sign saying you can get help if there isn't a phone! Whose idea was that?"
At his words, all the lights shut off. John whirled around, barely managing to see in the dimly lit room. "Hey, wait, wait! Turn the lights back on, I didn't mean it!"
The lights remained off—they may even had begun to dim even more in retaliation, John wasn't sure.
John slammed his fists on the control panel. "Stop messing with me! My sister's in trouble, I need help. Now where—is—the—telephone? Please! She's facing a monster and I was a coward, and I ran away. Please help me! Please!"
John threw his fists down one more time, to hit the control panel, when a voice boomed, "What are you doing?"
Something whizzed past John's head, and the boy felt it graze his ear. The voice was coming from behind the large, useless control panel. Someone was running down the stairs—John knew the sound. A man appeared around the right side of the control panel—much taller than John, practically towering over him. His brown hair was flipping forward over his face a little bit, and his eyes were like a cross between his mom's and his sister's—blue, green and grey. His eyes had—what his sister had described before with other people—a mad-man glint to them. Like he was either a genius or crazy, but most likely a bit of both. Yet he would have looked almost normal if not for his eccentric wardrobe: suspenders, a jacket with elbows patched, a bow tie, and of all things, a fez. John didn't know people wore fezzes anymore. The last time he saw someone wear a fez, it had been in a movie. An extremely old movie.
All of this hit John at once. He almost didn't understand that the man was talking to him at first, and only caught something about no one knocking anymore.
"Huh?"
The man ran up to John, and ran his fingers over the control panel. "This is an extremely important piece of machinery, mind you! You can't go bashing your fists against it like that! And what are you doing here—how'd you get in?"
"Through the door," John replied, taking a quick step back. "I'm sorry—Avery always hits stuff when it won't work—Ohmygosh, Avery!"
"Pardon, who?"
John, however, didn't pay attention to the bizarre stranger anymore. "My sister! She's in trouble! You—" he exclaimed, pointing at the stranger, "—you're living in this funny blue telephone box? You can help me! Are you a police officer?"
"It's a police box, for one, and I'm not a police officer. I'm the Doctor."
"A doctor? I don't need a doctor, I need guns! A tank! A—wait a minute, why am I arguing with you? My sister—she's probably dead and I'm arguing with a crazy guy in a blue telephone booth—!"
"Look, boy, slow down a bit," the man exclaimed, grabbing John by the shoulders and holding him still. The man's eyes just kept staring at John, studying him. His forehead creased like Avery's did when she was trying to figure out whether John was being an idiot, or being serious. "Now, say that again. Only slower, and a tad bit more sane."
"My sister is being attacked," John replied, speaking slowly as if he were trying to explain something to a three year old. "I need help. The box said help was inside. Please, help me."
"That's more like it," the man said. "Now, what's this about your sister being attacked? By what, a dog or something?"
"If it were a dog, I wouldn't be here! It's this massive…this massive thing!" John exclaimed. He wiggled his fingers in front of his mouth to signify teeth, and made his legs wobble back and forth to try and explain the strange monster he saw. "It ripped the roof off of our car, like it was nothing! And it's got an eye that looks like this…" He rolled back his eyes, and closed one. "She's in trouble. It got her—she told me to run! Please, help me! Come on!"
John grabbed the man's sleeve and tried to drag him along. The man, however, did not move.
"You said it had one white eye?" The man copied John's hand gestures. "Weird teeth and the like?"
"Yeah! I know it sounds crazy, but it's real! I swear!"
The man looked very somber and grim, staring forlornly at the door. There was a tremendous roar, and something that sounded like a cackle. John nearly wet himself.
"Wh-what was that?"
"That…means that the beast is looking for something else to eat."
John's blood turned to ice. "Wh…what?"
Then the man broke into a smile. "Not to worry, however! I can fix this. Your sister isn't some plot critical person in the time span of the universe, is she?"
"Huh—you're insane! You won't even help me!"
John turned to leave, eyes watering. "She wasn't eaten yet, come on! We can still help her—"
"Of course we can, but you need to listen carefully," the man replied. He adjusted his fez and turned to the control panel. "Now, let's see. We'll go back…um…five minutes, shall we? And perhaps adjust the location…where were you two before this beast attacked?"
"The road."
"Which one?"
"The only one around here for miles," John replied, sniffing and rubbing his nose on his sleeve. He was not going to cry. "What are you doing?"
"Not me. Us, um, you and I—what's the word, ah! We. We—if I can get this right—are going back five minutes to the road to save your sister."
"…Go back five minutes?"
"Hold on."
The man pressed some buttons on the panel, ran around it, and stopped in front of a large lever. He pushed it downwards.
The entire room sprung to life. It made whirling noises, beeps, and a loud roar like ocean tides rose. Then, with a lurch, John was thrown to the ground. He felt like he was on a roller coaster or a really fast elevator going upwards. His stomach flip flopped. John hated fast roller coasters.
"You doing all right there?" the man asked. He had grabbed onto the metal bar surrounding the control panel.
"What is this thing!" John shouted over the roar of the room. He struggled to his feet and grabbed the same metal bar, finally heaving himself up.
"It's a police box! Haven't Americans ever seen a police box before?"
"I haven't, thank you very much, but I know that they're not supposed to do this!"
"All right, all right, you got me. It's called a TARDIS."
"A what?"
John's question wasn't answered. As quickly as the machine started up, it stopped, and John was thrown upwards and almost onto the control panel just when he thought it was safe to let go of the bar. The mad man grabbed John's jacket sleeve and dragged him along.
"Come on, come on, come on, I don't want to have to jump back another five minutes, let's go!" the man said. He stopped at the door, and held up a finger to signal silence. John did so, shutting his mouth and pressing his ear against the door.
"GO!"
"What—that's Avery!"
John pushed the door open. Sure enough, there was his sister. She was still held aloft by the creature—and in the background, past the car, was…himself running away?
"That's me!"
"Yes, yes, come along!" exclaimed the strange man. "Let's go!"
John and the man raced out of the blue police box. John glanced over his shoulder, still trying to comprehend how that strange blue box worked.
"You there!" the man exclaimed, pointing at the beast. He whipped a strange, metal rod from his coat, and the end lit up and made a weird buzzing noise. "You…what are you?"
The beast turned, somewhat surprised. It mumbled a bit, and Avery exclaimed, "John!"
"Hang on, Avery! We're here to rescue you!" John said. "Just hold still."
"No, no! Don't hold still. Make as much fuss and bother as you can, it can't hold onto you if you move!" the man said. "Struggle! Bite it, kick it, do something before it squeezes the life out of you!"
Avery did just that. She pushed and pulled at the foot around her middle. "Put me down, you son of a bitch!" She leaned over and took a bite of one of its toes.
The beast screamed, and with a cry of rage it dropped Avery. Avery hit the ground with a thunk, but too frightened to not move, she got to her feet and limped towards John and the strange man, spitting and gagging. "God, that thing tastes awful."
John hugged her, and pulled her away.
The man, however, still held the glowing rod aloft. It was about the size of John's screwdriver in his tool box. "What are you doing here? You're not a native species…"
The beast roared in fury, nursing its bit hand. Bluish purple goop oozed out of the teeth mark incision made from Avery's very dangerous pearly whites. The strange man backed away, putting his arms out in front of Avery and John.
"Back up, back up! Try to get into the TARDIS—this thing isn't very smart, it's focused on its wound for the moment. Go."
With a shove, the man pushed John and Avery back. John stumbled, and Avery fell over onto her behind, still struggling to get a grasp on the situation.
"Well, come on, get up!" the man hissed, holding out his hand. Avery grabbed it and pulled herself back up.
The monster turned, its singular eye glaring at them. Then it roared so loud that John had to cover his ears. Yet over that, the strange man bellowed, "RUN! RUN AS FAST AS YOU CAN!"
And John did. He bolted, grabbing Avery's hand, who in turn had the strange man's hand. The three ran, the man and John supporting Avery, and they all dove into the blue police box as the beast charged.
John tore inside, dragging his sister all the way. She collapsed just past the door in a puddle of water, wild eyed and panting, holding onto her bad knee. John pulled her farther, and the two tracked more mud all over the floor. The strange man slammed the door and locked it, taking a step back once it was sealed.
"That should do it—" he began, but a slam and the splintering of wood convinced him otherwise, "—never mind, hold on!"
He ran to the control panel, and started pressing buttons. Avery looked around in amazement at the room they were in. John just hugged her middle, sharing bits and pieces of awe.
"It's…it's bigger on the inside?" she asked, slightly dazed.
"Yes, it is. I always love it when people say that," the man said, still slightly frazzled. The beast pounded on the door, roaring and trying to break inside.
"Mister, whatever you're going to do, do it fast!" John said, running up and pushing himself against the door. He felt the beast push its weight against the door; he could feel the wood groaning under the weight of hundreds of fists the size of softballs pounding on with incredible speed.
"Right. Where to?"
A fist punched its way through one of the glass windows above John's head. "ANYWHERE!" he shouted.
"Right!"
The man slammed the lever down, and once again the room sprung to life. The feeling of a roller-coaster settled in John's stomach once again. Avery fell flat on the floor, and John just remained pressed against the door until the feeling disappeared, and the room fell still. John slid to the ground and breathed a sigh of relief. Avery sat up, an eyebrow cocked, and stared at the strange man who leaned over the control panel.
"What just happened?" she asked.
The man turned, and faintly smiled.
"We, miss, just single handedly escaped one of the most dangerous beasts known to man."
Avery turned to the door, still a little dazed, and then she turned back to him. "Really?"
"Really."
"Wow."
Avery paused for a second, and then asked, "What was that…that…thing? It was awful. And it didn't taste good, either."
"I don't know. Can't seem to recall what species it was…but it'll come to me eventually. Now, are both of you all right?"
John nodded, and Avery said, "Peachy. Who are you?"
"Well, I'm the Doctor," the man replied with a slightly deranged grin.
"…The Doctor. No, "Hello, I'm John Smith," or anything?" Avery asked. "A name, at least? Besides the Doctor?"
"…Nope. I was once a John Smith, but that's a long, long story. My actual name is something you can't pronounce. I just go by the Doctor, now," the Doctor replied. "And who are you two?"
Avery and John exchanged glances. "Um…right. I'm Avery, and this is my brother, John. Pleased to make your acquaintance."
"All right, John, and Avery," said the Doctor. "I'm glad you're both all right, and there are no injuries…though I don't think your leg is supposed to be bending that way, or does it normally do something like that?"
The Doctor was referring to Avery's leg, which was very limp and slightly turned, with an odd lump on the side of her jeans the size of a knee cap. She stared at it in disbelief.
"I don't believe it. I've dislocated my patella again," she said, poking the knee.
John helped her sit a tad bit more comfortably against the wall. "Does it hurt?"
"A little," replied Avery. Then her face scrunched up in pain. "I lied—it hurts a lot. Jesus Christ."
The Doctor briskly walked over, and knelt next to them. "Oh dear," he said, biting his lower lip. "That's not good at all."
Avery held her knee and clenched her teeth. "It hurts, it hurts, it hurts…"
John turned to the weird man. "You're a doctor, right? Fix it!"
"I'm the Doctor, but I don't hold a PHD," the man replied.
"Then what's the point of calling you the Doctor?"
"I didn't say I couldn't fix it—now hold your sister still."
John grabbed Avery's arm, and the Doctor very carefully eased the leg straight. Avery's eyes were watering and she had bit through her lower lip, getting a little bit of blood on her chin, but she took deep breaths and didn't say anything.
"You doing okay, Avery?" the Doctor asked, glancing her way.
"Fine," she whispered. "Just fine."
"Well, this might hurt a little," he replied, and with a yank, he completely straightened her leg. There was a pop, and Avery whimpered, but the leg finally relaxed and the knee cap seemed to be back where it belonged. Avery sighed, and fell back on the ground, sprawled out.
"Give me more warning," she said, staring at the ceiling and massaging her leg. "Ow…"
John stared at the Doctor. The Doctor used his glowing rod thingy by waving it over Avery's leg.
"There's a bit of torn muscle, but it's nothing time can't fix. We'll have to get you some crutches…or maybe a cane, how does a cane sound? Canes are cooler than crutches—it makes you more dignified…."
"What is that?" asked John.
"What's what?"
"That…that glowey thingy. It keeps making a buzzing noise…"
"Oh, this?" The Doctor held it out. "It's a sonic screw driver."
"A what?"
"…You know what, it's complicated. Don't worry about it. Now, let's get your sister somewhere comfortable, shall we? I'm sure the wet floor isn't very nice."
It took a while to get Avery up the stairs with the help of the Doctor, but he and John managed. There were so many doors that they passed on the way to a bed room that the Doctor deemed "suitable" for his injured sister. That "suitable" room, as the Doctor called it, was about the size of a school gym. There was a walkway to a circular stone platform that held a queen sized bed, a dresser, two bed lamps, and a television on a stand. The incredible part about it, however, was that a pool surrounded it. Water ran underneath the walkway and around the platform, and a little stair case near the platform helped a person who wanted to take a dip get in and out. Lights sat in the ceiling in a dim glow, giving the blue room a little purple tint.
The Doctor lifted Avery onto the bed, and John adjusted the pillows.
"There. How's that?" the Doctor asked.
Avery looked around in amazement, with a gleeful grin starting to appear on her face. "There's a pool in here!"
"Yes, I know," the Doctor replied, sharing her enthusiasm.
"Now, if only there were a library in here, too, and this place would be awesome," Avery said, smiling.
"That can be arranged, if you want," the Doctor said, "but I think you could use some rest. Here, take this…"
He pulled a glass out of a drawer, and a vile of green fluid. He poured it in, and handed it to her. "Go on, take it. It'll make the pain in your leg go away, and help you get some sleep. Trust me."
Avery sniffed it. "…Smells like raspberries."
"So that's what it smells like to you? It smells different to every person, I've found. Here, John, what does it smell like to you?"
John took a whiff. "…Smells like Mom's spaghetti."
"Well, to me it smells like fish fingers and custard. Strange, huh?"
Avery and John both glanced at the Doctor.
"What are fish fingers?"
"You know—those little breaded fish sticks."
"Oh. We just call them fish sticks. Where did fish fingers come from?"
This time, the Doctor looked at them funny. "…Americans. I'll never quite understand how you name things." He ruffled Avery's mussed up, drying hair, and put a hand on John's shoulder. "Come on, let's let your sister rest. She's had a rough night."
John took Avery's hand. "You going to be okay?"
"Yeah. I'm…" Avery stifled a yawn. "…I'm fine. Just…I just need a nap…" She closed her eyes and rolled over. "Behave…don't burn the house down…"
John rolled his eyes, and walked out of the room, shutting the door behind him. The Doctor stood outside.
"She's drifted off into dream land, I'm assuming?" he asked. "Good. I was hoping that the stuff would knock her out quickly."
"What was that?"
"It's an extremely advanced sleeping drought. Humans won't invent it for another ten years or so. It's like an antistatic, only not through a needle and much more pleasant…now, come on, let's go."
"Go where?" John asked.
"To go see where we landed. I'm not entirely sure where we are. I just know we aren't where we originally were. Oh, and by the way, there was a phone on the control panel. I just didn't let you see it because we didn't need more humans running towards that thing. Whatever it was, it was dangerous, and rather cranky."
John guessed that "that thing" was the beast that had tried to eat them. John followed the Doctor past the control room to the front of the TARDIS. The Doctor pushed open the door, and walked outside. John still followed.
The two stepped out onto a flat grassy plain, next to a glassy blue lake. Mountains framed the beautiful landscape, and dusk had started to fall. John's mouth dropped open. It was as if they had stepped into a post card, but John knew that they couldn't have. There was a soft breeze, and the view was absolutely so breathtaking that it just had to be real. The dark, rainy night with thunder and man-eating monsters had dissapeard.
"Where are we?"
"I think we're in France."
"…How'd we get from Midwest America to France in a matter of minutes?"
"That's the lovely thing about the TARDIS—we can go so many places in such little time," the Doctor replied, taking in a deep breath. "Yep. Definitely France. I think there's a little village nearby, if I'm not mistaken. Why don't we go get some biscuits and coffee or something? Whatever you Americans drink."
"Coffee? Avery doesn't like me having coffee— she says it make me hyper."
"Well, your sister's going to be out of it for a while. I'm sure the coffee effects will wear off by the time she wakes up. Now come on, let's go. Hurry up, don't dawdle!"
The Doctor, with a spring in his step, started around the TARDIS and up the hilly landscape, motioning for John to come along. John jogged after him as they tried to make it to the gravely path snaking through the grass. They walked in silence for a few moments, before John started to study the Doctor more. Who was this strange man that had literally appeared and saved both he and his sister without the bat of an eyelash? Not someone human, that's for sure. Humans, John and Avery had decided one evening prior to all the insanity they were going through at this moment, were becoming increasingly selfish. So, if their hypothesis was correct, he would have to not be human.
"Who are you?" John asked.
"Why, I'm the Doctor," he replied.
"No, really. Not the title, literally. You're…different. Real different. And I want to know why."
"A lot of people say that, and they're right. I am different."
"Are you a guardian angel?"
The Doctor looked at him in slight amusement, with a sly smile and an eyebrow cocked. "Now what makes you say that?"
"Mom's always talking about angels and God, and how no matter where we are, he's always watching out for us. So, are you an angel? Or are you God?"
"I'm neither," the Doctor replied. The terrain got steeper, and John struggled to keep up. "Come on, we're almost there." The man stretched out a hand and pulled John over the last string of rocks.
"Then if you're not an angel, or God, then what are you? I know you're not human."
"How do you know that?"
"I'm eleven years old, mister. I don't believe everything people tell me. Besides, you're too nice to be human."
"Well, you got me there."
"So, are you going to tell me what you are?"
"Oh, look, here we are!"
The Doctor quickly stopped, and with a grand flourish he pointed to an extremely small village down the rocky pass. Smoke rose from chimneys in small cottages in beautiful, delicate swirls, and a few people wandered about. "There we go! C'mon, if we hurry, we can pick out some food, and bring it back to your sister. Let's go!"
And just like that, the Doctor sped walk/fell down the mountain pass towards the tiny village. John followed behind, careful not to fall flat on his face, determined to figure out just what the Doctor was.
If he had known just how much trouble that one question was going to get he and his sister into, he might have had second thoughts for a moment. Then, he would have pursued the question anyway, because that's just how John was.