AKA In Which the TARDIS is like a Wardrobe
So... this happened... Thoughts?
For as long as she could remember, three constants marked her room. First was the doll hidden in the back of a drawer, tucked away where it wouldn't be found and discarded. Second was the name tag on the door that marked the space as hers. L. M. Rey—more white space than letters, black on white, and completely mundane. Finally, the smell: chlorine, bleach, and stale air. There was no escaping it; every time she felt her nose finally becoming numb to the scent, an orderly would apply a fresh coat of disinfectant to the walls and floors.
In a fairer world, Rey would at least have a window she could open to defuse the smell. In reality, her luck didn't extend that far. She occasionally let her mind drift in that direction, debating where along the far wall would be the best place to have one. How high up from the ground should it be? How big? What shape?
One that opened would be best, but even if it didn't, she'd be satisfied just having a view. Her room was too high up for her to try jumping out anyhow, and there weren't enough sheets to attempt a makeshift climbing rope. Something to look at besides grey walls would be enough. Some days, she'd agree to anything for a patch of grass, a pile of dirt, and a sliver of sky.
This notion was, of course, useless. Treatment would be administered whether she agreed or not, and refusal never hindered anyone will ill intent.
When the shaking started, she dismissed it as just a particularly heavy cart rolling by. Then the building kept shaking, harder and harder. Shuddering and swaying as if it were made of rubber instead of metal and concrete. Sometimes dust would sprinkle down, and sometimes it would rain rocks as large as her head. Rey was too old for dolls, but that didn't stop her from retrieving hers. She hugged it close, as if the tiny body could protect her.
Every once in awhile, things would go eerily still. The building would calm for long enough to spark the hope it was over until another violent jolt dissuaded her of any such fancies. Rey came to hate these intervals of stops and starts. Better for the shaking to just never end if the quake wouldn't pass. She'd rather the entire world just shake apart than to be stuck in this never-ending cycle of uncertainty.
Worst of all, she was stuck going through it alone.
The first big shake had knocked loose a sizeable chunk of the ceiling. Rey took cover beneath her bed as it came crashing down. By the time she managed to shimmy out, even more of the ceiling had collapsed, effectively trapping her in. The lights had also been knocked out, and she had to determine by touch how much space she had. There wasn't much, maybe a foot in front of her before the rest of the path out was buried. Between the settling rubble, aftershocks, all sound was distorted so she had no idea what was going on outside. Maybe rescue efforts were on their way. Maybe she'd been abandoned and left for dead.
The air was heavy. Dust burned her lungs with every breath. She pulled off her overshirt and pressed the least grimy part to her face as a crude filter in an effort to relieve some of the stress. It was probably for the best since she also felt like she was being smothered and slow-cooked.
Hours later, most of the shaking had finally stopped. She tensed at every echo and creak, anticipating more disaster. Shadows and physical matter became distinguishable in the dark that made everything look ominous. What was actual debris and what was empty space eaten up by the lack of light? She had no way of knowing if some of the shaking had actually cleared a path to the door, or if she was trapped in an even tighter space.
Was it just her imagination and panic, or was it actually getting harder to breathe?
What she wouldn't give for a flashlight. Or water. Or even some sign that she hadn't been left to rot. Most of all, she wanted to get away. Being stuck in a hospital was a hundred times worse when you were literally trapped.
Then again, in a way, her situation had barely changed. A little less space, a little less light, but she was no less stuck. She almost laughed when it struck her how pathetic she was. She was going to die without having done anything or gone anywhere.
Rey could no longer tell the difference between having her eyes open or closed. Even though she knew it wasn't a good sign, her body couldn't help but relax. She ran through every trick she knew to keep awake. Exercise was out of the question since there was literally no room, but she could hold her breath to get her heart racing. She pinched her thighs every time she caught herself drifting until her nerves were raw. Finally, she started on mental exercises, reciting entire book chapters and proofs for equations and chemical compositions.
But it was getting harder and harder to focus.
The feeling of something cold and wet jerked her right back to sharp consciousness.
Rey squinted at her surroundings in disbelief. It was so white she felt blinded. Snow was everywhere, extending as far as the eye could see and steadily falling down on her. Freezing winds bit into her skin, making her all too aware of the thin tank top and not much thicker sweats she wore. Had she finally gone mad? Or maybe this was her brain's way of trying to stay alive. She craved water so it gave her snow. It was hot and stuffy so it stuck her somewhere cold with dry winds. She was surrounded by black, so now she was surrounded by white.
The hospital had a small library of mostly donated materials. On days Rey had been "good," she was allowed to browse through and borrow a few things. Her doctor had a list of books he'd deemed inappropriate and unhelpful to her healing, but if she was crafty, quick, and didn't do it so often, she could sometimes sneak out one or two of these unapproved materials.
She devoured those books, reading them over and over and committing them to memory. There were stories about hobbits and dwarves and elves. Stories about a magical schoolboy and his arch nemesis. A series that began with a lamppost in the middle of a winter wonderland. There was no lamppost in sight now, but there was a blue wooden box labeled "POLICE."
Wood was a better shelter than nothing, she decided, and quickly made her way towards it. Her feet were bare and her toes were already burning. Burning was good though since it meant her nerves were still alive. If her feet had gone numb then she'd really have to start worrying about frostbite. If this was an illusion, it was a painfully realistic one.
She cracked the door open just enough for her to slip through. Heat rolled over her the moment she stepped inside, and she would have happily melted into a content puddle if she wasn't too busy looking around. Whatever she just walked into, it wasn't a box. If she thought suddenly finding herself transported to a snowy field was impossible, then this was downright absurd.
The huge room was lit with golden and coral tones. Four tree-like pillars framed the center of the room where the strangest circular console she had ever laid eyes on was set up. A few wires hung loosely from the ceiling in a manner that was most certainly a safety hazard. And to complete the spectacle was a tall, thin man with outrageous hair standing off to the side. He broke out into a huge smile when he saw her, and that was enough to convince her that she was dreaming. No one was ever that happy to see her.
The man hurried over to her, shrugging off his brown coat along the way. "Rey! Don't tell me you were out there dressed like that? Look at you, you're shaking, we need to get you warmed up!"
Impressively, he managed to finish speaking by the time he reached her, mouth working so fast she could barely process the meaning of his words. He draped his coat over her shoulders. Despite being much too long for her, its soft and warm fabric did wonders to fight away the lingering chill. He didn't appear to mind that the ends crumpled on the floor, soaking up the snow she had dragged in. He just pulled it tighter around her and ran his hands up and down her arms to help rub the heat in.
Rey felt lightheaded in a way that had nothing to do with oxygen deprivation. "How do you know who I am?"
"Of course I know you," he said quickly, hearing her words but not really listening. "Look, you're nearly hypothermic."
He tried to lead her further inside, further into the warmth, but she dug her heels into the ground and refused to move. "Answer my question."
His gaze turned careful as he gave her more than a cursory once-over. Rey instantly hated it. She had been subjected to the same careful examination a thousand times from doctors and nurses. Something was wrong with her, the look said. Something in her file or something she said or something about she was responding to her treatments. Wrong, wrong, wrong.
"How do you know who I am," she repeated levelly. Getting irritated would only cloud her judgment. It was amazing how much people overlooked or interpreted erroneously because they were worked up. Staying calm was the best way to get all the facts.
"I'm the Doctor." He paused, expecting her to react, but Rey was unmoved. She stared back at him blankly, waiting for the discomfort to settle in. Uncomfortable people tended to blab, and this Doctor was clearly a talker. "You're in the TARDIS. It's a time machine, and I'm sure you've noticed…"
"The inside and outside don't match."
He smiled. "She's bigger on the inside, yeah. Beautiful, isn't she?"
Silently, Rey agreed. Aesthetics aside, whatever this box was, it was science elevated to a work of art. The interior was likely a pocket universe. That, or the door acted as a wormhole to some other point in space. She would bank on the former theory if the Doctor was to be believed about it also being a time machine. The ingenuity was astounding.
Assuming it wasn't all in her head or some form of magic.
She gave herself a small mental shake. If she let him control the flow of the conversation then she'd never get her answers. "You still haven't answered my question."
"Well, it's a bit complicated." He ruffled his hair, making it stand up like a rooster's comb. "See, time travel always makes things complicated; you don't always meet people or do things in the right order. It's a mess, really, and you and I, we're all over the place."
"So this isn't the first time you've met me," she reasoned.
"Exactly! I knew you'd figure it out! I think it's safe to say this is the first time for you? Don't worry, you'll get the hang of it. You're a quick study."
Her expression remained blank, but he no longer seemed affected. For Rey, whose lack of emoting always led to a negative reaction, his return to energized cheer only served to throw her even farther. Her brain felt like it was swimming, trying to muddle through the sudden turn of events.
If she applied logic, then this had to be a dream. It would make sense if it was a dream since dream logic dictated that anything went. The same rules applied if she hit her head, or if this was some hallucination brought on by a brain starved for oxygen. Even if what the Doctor said was true, and this box—the TARDIS—was a time machine, it didn't explain how she found herself somewhere that clearly wasn't her hospital room, apropos of nothing. After all, she wasn't the one with futuristic technology.
The Doctor looked at her expectantly, rather like a dog. It should've been ridiculous for a grown man, but instead she found it fitting. His barely restrained excitement reminded her of an old friend. Her only friend, if she was honest. The nostalgia was both soothing and off-putting. Soothing for the obvious reasons of familiarity. Off-putting because she hadn't had a reason to think of her old friend for so long that the memories were fuzzy.
She also had no way to tell if the Doctor was tailoring his reactions to intentionally make her draw that comparison. Rey would like to say she wasn't a paranoid person by nature, but refusing to exercise caution in this case was suicidal and stupid.
"Doctor, I'm ready!" A redhead wearing the thickest, and most practical given the weather outside, jacket she had ever seen walked in. "Rey! When did you get here?"
"Three minutes ago. Who are you?"
"Whaddya mean, who am I? It's Donna. Donna Noble," she elaborated when Rey just stared at her. "Oi, come off it, pretending like you don't know who I am."
"I don't," she said truthfully.
Donna opened her mouth to argue back, but the Doctor cut in. "Rey, this is Donna. Donna, this is Rey's first time meeting you. We talked about this, remember? Time travel means things sometime happen out of order."
"Right, but—"
"No buts! Look, you're ready, you're dressed for the weather, let's stop wasting time standing around here re-introducing ourselves and—" Hands on her shoulders, he steered Rey towards the door and stopped just a few steps shy from it. "I'm forgetting something. What am I forgetting? Got the sonic, the psychic paper, Rey is here…" He patted his pockets.
"Can I have some shoes," she asked, put out at having been physically moved like a lost child but unwilling to risk angering her… she supposed she could call them her hosts since it seemed to be their time machine she was in. Traipsing around in the snow in her bare feet did not sound like fun. She doubted she would make it far.
"Shoes! Ah, wait here."
Before anyone could react, the Doctor sprinted off deeper into the TARDIS. She stared at his retreating back, not quite sure how she should be feeling. "Is he always like that?"
Donna snorted. "If you mean talking a mile a minute, jumping trains of thoughts like they're rope, and never letting you get a word in edgewise, yeah. And worse. You really don't know who I am?"
"I don't. But if it makes you feel better, I'm not fully convinced this is real yet. It could all be in my head." in fact, Rey was becoming more and more convinced that this was a dream. And so she supposed there was no harm in enjoying herself. Forget a view through a window, she was outside! Outside with snow and a proper sky and no hospital in sight.
Donna's jaw tightened at her reply. Great. Not even five minutes and she was already getting on people's bad sides. "Well I'm real. And normally I'd have your head for thinking otherwise, but since it's your first time—how'd you put it? 'Being shot through the space-time continuum like a leaf in Hurricane Doctor'—I'm giving you a free pass. But just this once, you hear?"
Rey didn't really understand, but she nodded anyway. If Donna was a figment of her mind, she sure was a loud and bossy one. Loud wasn't necessarily bad, and it sure was more interesting than silence. As soon as she was done with her retort—or was it a warning?—the tension eased and her lips straightened out into a neutral line.
"Aha!" The Doctor came back bearing a pair of boots and a thick snow jacket, both of which fit Rey perfectly. There were gloves tucked into one of the pockets, thick to keep her hands warm but with the fingertips cut off so she still had some mobility. The fraying edges clearly indicated that this was likely a personal addition. "Well, what are we waiting for? Let's go. Mystery tour!"
A red rocket flew past overhead immediately after they stepped out. Donna was clearly impressed, and the Doctor clearly wasn't. They exchanged a quip about the TARDIS's lackluster outward appearance. Rey kept her opinion to herself, but unless the rocket was also a time machine, she had to agree that the TARDIS was better.
"Come on," Donna urged, "let's see where it's going."
"But—"
Rey stuffed her gloved hands into the pockets of her jacket. How was it possible that she was still cold despite wearing more than she could ever remember wearing? "I say yes if it leads somewhere warm." The Doctor pouted but followed obediently.
They walked and walked until she lost track of time. Donna and the Doctor maintained a conversation between them in bits and pieces, quips and rebuttals and lapses of silence that did nothing to dampen the mood. She wondered how long they'd been together for them to joke so easily with one another. Every once in awhile, one would look over at her not as discreetly as they were trying to be. She supposed they expected her to jump in, and she wondered if either of them knew how intimidating it was to join a conversation that didn't need your input.
Besides, she had already said the wrong thing once in the TARDIS. If it happened again, she'd surely ruin the mood. So Rey kept her eyes focused on the snow-covered ground and concentrated on not tripping. The snow was at least seven inches deep, coming up to her mid-calf, and there were hills to scale up and down.
The Doctor stopped them atop one such hill, swearing he could hear something. Rey strained her ears, but only the howling wind and her own heartbeat, elevated from all the exercise, answered. Without warning, he broke out into a sprint, gliding across the ground with the ease of someone long legged and with good lung capacity. Jealous, Rey dashed after him. She exercised in her room when she was bored, and physical therapy meant she was in some semblance of physically fit, but her sessions mostly focused on keeping herself limber and her muscles from atrophying, not preparing for a marathon.
At the base on the other side laid a half-buried body. The creature's skin was a muted grey barely discernible from snow surrounding it. Bald and with multiple tendrils coming from the nose and mouth region, it was clearly not human. A white orb was in its gloved hand. "What is it," Donna asked between big gulps of air.
"An Ood. He's called an Ood." The Doctor kneeled and pulled out a stethoscope to examine him. Rey didn't need a medical degree to know that the Ood was in pain. He shivered, but just barely, like he didn't have the energy for even that anymore.
"But it's face…"
"Donna, not now. It's a 'he' not and 'it.' Give me a hand?" Both women joined him by the Ood's side. "I don't know where the heart is. I don't know if he's got a heart. Talk to him. Keep him going."
"It's alright. We've got you. Um…" She looked at a loss about what to say next.
"What's your name," Rey tried. Carefully, she took the Ood's free gloved hand, but he didn't so much as twitch. His navy suit was drenched through. With the rate the snow was falling, he must've laid there for hours, thinking he was going to die alone.
"Designated Ood Delta 50." The orb lit up as he spoke. Looking closer, she saw that a wire connected it to his mouth region. She guessed it was a translator of sorts, or maybe a vocalizer. He didn't look like he had a traditional mouth to speak with.
"I'm Rey. This is Donna, and he's the Doctor."
According to the Doctor, Delta 50 had been shot,. Judging from the grim set of his lips, the outcome didn't look good.
"The circle—"
"No, don't try to talk," Donna advised, but he ignored her.
"The circle must be broken."
"The circle? What do you mean? Delta 50, what circle," the Doctor asked. "Delta 50? What circle?"
Delta 50's eyes flashed red. All three of them scrambled back out of the way as he lashed out, managing to sit up despite the excruciating pain. His sudden frenzy didn't last long, and all it did in the end was stir up some snow. The growls faded a few moments later, and Delta 50 slumped back to the ground.
"He's dead."
The Doctor stepped carefully towards his corpse and rearranged his limbs so he looked a bit more peaceful. With nothing else they could do for him, they left Delta 50's body to be buried by the snow and started walking again. The mood was vastly different now. No quips or friendly teasing, just a heaviness that had nothing to do with physical exertion. Pitched to speak below the wind rather than trying to shout above it, the Doctor's voice was low and somber as he explained to them what the Ood were. "They're servants—of humans in the 42nd century. Mildly telepathic. That was the song, it was his mind calling out."
"I couldn't hear anything," Donna told him. "He sang as he was dying," she added sadly.
"His eyes turned red," the Doctor noted, avoiding the emotional weight of her remark.
"What does that mean?"
"Trouble. The Ood are harmless and completely benign. Except the last time we… I met them, there was this force, like a stronger mind, powerful enough to take them over."
"What sort of force," Donna asked.
"It was the devil."
Rey glanced at him from the corners of her eyes. Whether he was telling the truth or not, whatever the Doctor was remembering was clearly unpleasant.
Soon they came across a large facility. A group of self-entitled looking people were gathered in front of a warehouse, led by a woman named Solana. The Doctor easily convinced her that they belonged, flashing faked credentials at her. Rey supposed he lied a lot. Not out of cruelty; from what she could tell of his personality, he wasn't the type for it. She had met her fair share of people who were cruel in different ways and for different reasons, and the Doctor wasn't like any of them.
But he was a man of secrets.
She hadn't decided yet if that was better or worse.
"Representing the Noble Corporation, PLC Limited, Intergalactic," Donna smoothly tacked onto their names. As she spoke, the words appeared on the paper the Doctor held up. Rey studied Solana for any hostility, but she didn't so much as bat an eye at the change. It was as if she hadn't noticed it wasn't there to begin with at all.
The annoyed suspicion swiftly morphed into the picture perfect example of an accommodating host. "Dr. Noble, Mrs. Noble, if you and your secretary would like to come with me."
"I'm not a secretary," Rey stated bluntly, annoyed at the assumption.
The Doctor sputtered and seemed to forget what to do with his limbs. "No, no, no, Rey doesn't work for us."
"We're so not married," Donna insisted. "Never."
"Never ever," he added.
As taken aback as she was by the forceful response, Solana nevertheless collected herself quickly. She apologized without meaning it and got the tour started. They fell in at the back of the group, taking their time to look around at the large facility. The Doctor was distracted, unable to concentrate on one spot or direction for long. He was practically vibrating, and his hands kept fidgeting in aborted half-movements.
"What did you show her to get us in," Rey asked, hoping to settle him. His antics were beginning to make her feel anxious as well.
He grinned widely. "Psychic paper. Shows whatever you want it to. Brilliant, right?"
"Handy," she agreed. Oh, the places she could go and the things she could get away with if she had one of those.
An alarm went off before she could ask more. Automatically, she tensed at the sound, waiting for guards or orderlies to storm the place. Only they never did. Solana dismissed it as a signal for the end of the work shift and continued to lead the on. Rey didn't believe a word she said. She knew an alarm when she heard one, and she had definitely heard one.
The Doctor's hand bumped into hers, their fingers brushing. Rey snatched her hand back, feeling like one of the many times a nurse jabbed a needle in her without warning. A wince slipped past his mask before he could properly school his features, causing a pang of guilt to strike her. It irritated her that she felt guilty. The Doctor was a stranger and a proven liar, and she had no reason to feel guilty for not wanting to touch someone.
He flashed her an apologetic grin. She braced herself for a comment or excuse to move away, but he remained at her side as they walked. Usually, people snapped for her not to move or that she shouldn't be so sensitive. Sometimes they even forcibly held her in place. The Doctor's lack of reaction emboldened her. She let her hand drop and kept pace with him.
They were led inside a showroom where a group of Ood stood on pedestals, all lined up to be showed off as their qualities were explained. "We like to think of the Ood as our trusted friends," was the most ridiculous line of tailored dialogue she had ever heard. The more Solana talked, the more Rey felt the growing urge to dismantle her pack of lies. To make matters worse, the other buyers just soaked it all in like sponges. They applauded, hungry gazes filled with approval.
Her hands twitched by her side, but she refused the itch of her fingers to curl into fists. The Doctor's face was hard and his mouth thinned in a line. Beside him, Donna looked just as affronted and on the verge of snapping out.
They broke for refreshments and time to personally examine the Ood. The Doctor made for the terminal, pulling out a pair of dark rimmed glasses and bringing up a map showing their location. "Ah, got it. The Ood-Sphere. We've been to this solar system before—years ago. Ages. Close to the planet Sense-Sphere. Let's widen it out… the year 4126. That is the Second Great and Bountiful Human Empire."
"Built on the back of slaves—how fitting." Like Egypt, she thought, or Rome, or America. Or even Britain. Any great place was only great if you were on top.
Both her companions winced at her blunt tone. "What's the Earth like now," Donna asked uncomfortably.
"A bit full, but you see, the empire stretches out across three galaxies."
"It's weird. I mean, it's brilliant, but… back home, the papers and the telly, they keep saying we haven't got long to live—global warming, flooding, all the bees disappearing."
"Bees," she asked.
"Yeah. That thing about the bees is odd," the Doctor agreed.
Donna ignored them. "But look as us, we're everywhere. Is that good or bad, though? I mean, are we explorers or more like a virus?"
"Sometimes I wonder…"
"What are the red dots?" Rey pointed them out, spread all across the map.
"Ood distribution centers."
Donna walked over to one of the Ood. She tried asking for his opinion on the whole situation, but his answers didn't help matters at all. "All Ood are born to serve," he reported pleasantly before, like Delta 50 earlier, his entire demeanor suddenly changed.
"The circle," he said desperately.
The circle must be broken.
Solana had all the Ood removed from the room before they could get any more information. They obediently left to their respective hospitality stations without another word. Rey pulled out the facility map from the package they had received at the start of the tour. She had studied it carefully on their way towards the showroom. It was always good to know where the exits of a building were beforehand. Just in case.
"Had enough of the schmoozing," the Doctor asked. She nodded and he turned to Donna. "Do you fancy going off the beaten track?"
"A rough guide to the Ood-Sphere? Works for me."
Sneaking around was a simple affair. Rey, who still had the map, led the way, expertly weaving in between buildings and keeping out of sight of the few guards that were present. Either they were severely understaffed, which she doubted, or the bulk of their grunts were busy taking care of something else. Either way, it was all too easy to time the patrols or duck down another path to avoid them all together.
The Doctor got them pass the locked gate standing in their way effortlessly. "Sonic screwdriver," he explained as he pointed a pen-like probe at the lock. The end lit up and the metal tumblers clicked, giving way.
"Where can I get one?" It would be so handy the next time she started feeling caged in at the hospital. And she bet it was good for more than just unlocking doors.
The P.A. announced the start of Ood Shift B as they slipped into the off-limits section. A group of Ood were being marched across the open field, flanked by armed guards. One stumbled, and they watched in horror as a man walked over and cracked a whip at the fallen Ood when he didn't immediately get back up.
"Servants? Rey was right, they're slaves," Donna gasped.
"Last time I met the Ood, I never thought, never asked…"
"That's not like you."
"I was busy." He snuck a glance at Rey . "So busy I couldn't save them. I had to let the Ood die. I reckon I owe them one."
A nervous scientist, an entitled businessman, and his Ood aid crossed the field. Her nerves tingled in the way that immediately identified him as the man in charge. "Let's keep out of his way," the Doctor suggested and led them off in the other direction.
Eventually, they came across another collection of warehouses. The Doctor had taken the map and buried his nose in it while Rey tried to catch her breath. Exhaustion was creeping up on her again. Between the effort it took to tread through the snow and the distance they crossed, she would've been drained even if she began this adventure with her normal energy reserves. Both of them were caught off guard when Donna whistled loudly to get their attention. Inside the door she'd chosen were shipping containers lined up as far as the eye could see. A giant metal claw moved them around above their heads.
"Ood export," she concluded.
The Doctor pointed to the crane. "Lifts up the containers, takes 'em to the rocket ships. Ready to be flown out all over the three galaxies."
"What, you mean— These containers are full of…"
"What do you think?"
Rey opened the nearest one. Packed inside, standing in perfect rows as they were probably commanded, were dozens of Ood.
"Oh, it stinks," Donna complained. "How many of 'em do you think are in each one?"
"A hundred? More?"
Mind reeling, Rey started tuning them out. She had begun feeling not all there while simultaneously feeling a little too present. She felt penned in, trapped, like a lamb before the slaughter. Irritation piled up and up until it swelled into proper anger and she realized that it wasn't coming from her at all.
Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Calm, she reminded herself. Calm, or she would miss something.
"Why don't you run," she asked the Ood,. The door was wide open, and there was only the three of them standing in their way. The crowd could storm out, rush at them, escape.
"For what reason," an Ood at the front asked.
"Freedom."
"I do not understand the concept."
What did you have to go through, she wondered, to have the idea of freedom wiped from your instinct. How long did you have to be trapped before you stopped thinking of ways to get out?
"Ood, tell me, does 'the circle' mean anything to you," the Doctor asked.
All the Ood spoke in unison. "The circle must be broken."
"Whoa, that is creepy," Donna said.
"But what is it? What is the circle?"
"The circle must be broken."
"Why," she asked.
"So that we can sing."
For the third time, an alarm went off. "That's us, come on!" The Doctor grabbed her hand and this time, she let him pull her along as he took off. Rey ran with a single-minded focus through the maze of crates, turning where he did and trying to pull her thoughts together. Guards stormed into the warehouse, armed to the teeth. Shouts to surrender echoed off the walls and metal crates, making them sound like they were coming from everywhere and pressing in on them.
Rey ran and ran until she couldn't run anymore. Her hand was torn from the Doctor's as she stopped, back banging painfully against one of the metal containers. It always helped to have something solid at her back. Something to remind her that stability existed, that the world wasn't an ocean of swirling sensory details she was at the mercy of.
The thing about adrenaline was that it was great for sprinting, but terrible in the long run. Adrenaline exhausted you, sapped your reserves, and made you skittish and over-responsive. The thing about desperation was that it could be paralyzing just as often as it could be stimulating. Desperation could overwhelm you to the point where taking even one step was an insurmountable task no matter how loudly your mind yelled at you to get out.
Rey tried. She honestly did. She just couldn't anymore.
"We can't stay here, we need to run," the Doctor urged. Above them, the metal claw moved wildly. Whoever was controlling it was looking for them and promised hurt if they were found.
"I can't," she gasped out. No matter how many breaths she took, it wasn't enough. "This isn't real. This is a dream."
"Rey, this is real, I promise."
"Aliens? Time travel? How does any of this make sense? I was in the hospital. There was an earthquake, and the ceiling collapsed. I'm there, I'm still there, I need to get out, but I'm trapped and this is just a dream. I'm dying, aren't I? I'm dying and this is all a wonderful, terrible dream."
Oh god, she was rambling. It was an unfamiliar experience for her, and she definitely didn't like it. The words just poured out like she couldn't control her lips at all.
"Hey, hey, look at me." The Doctor didn't touch her, and looking back, that was probably the reason she listened. She could practically see the adrenaline pumping through his body in the shaking of his shoulders. His never-still arms and the way he kept shifting the weight on and off the balls of his feet screamed desperation. Through all of the conflicting noise, she focused on the sound of his voice, the soothing part of the nostalgia he evoked, and tried to force herself to believe that the gentleness was real. "This isn't a dream, and you're not dying, Rey. I promise. I won't let you die. I won't let anything happen to you."
Her chest tightened and her stomach clenched. She felt as cold as she had standing barefoot in the snow. "You can't promise me that."
If possible, his voice grew even gentler. "I promise. And this is real. I'll explain it all to you, properly, when there's more time, but right now we have to run. Can you run?"
Nodding, she pushed off the crate just in time to dodge the claw. Its operator had finally found them and it was now giving chase, arms wide open and ready to snap them in half. It slammed down just behind them and the force sent Rey and the Doctor tumbling to the floor. She did her best to ignore her burning muscles and pushed herself back up, the Doctor right behind her.
They didn't get much further when the claw knocked him over. By some luck, he wasn't picked up or dismembered, but he did crash into her. They went over some barrels before landing hard. Head spinning, she prepared herself for the worst, refusing to look away as the claw rose and slammed down. Arms open to flatten them, it inexplicably stopped inches from squashing them like bugs.
Guards were quick to swarm them now that they were down. Solana was with them, likely the one to have reported them missing. They were brought back to the shipping container, door now closed and being pounded on as Donna demanded to be let out. She flew out in a flurry, hugging the Doctor first when finally released. Then, to her surprise, Rey received a hug too. The action was tight, bone crushing, and unfamiliar.
Donna pulled away before she could decide what to do. "What about them?" Inside the container she'd just vacated, dozens, maybe hundreds of red eyes stared back. No longer docile, the Ood charged out and began attacking the guards.
"Red alert," the whip-wielder from out in the field, Kess, called out. "Fire! Shoot to kill!"
Rey, the Doctor, Donna, and Solana made a break for it while the guards engaged. It wasn't until they were outside that they paused to catch their breaths, away from the sounds of chaos.
"If the people back on Earth knew what was going on here," Donna began.
Solana interrupted her, still a little breathless. "Don't be stupid. Of course they know."
"They know how you treat the Ood?"
"They don't ask. Same thing."
"The Ood weren't born like this," Rey concluded. "Their species wouldn't have survived."
"Rey's right, a species born to serve could never evolve in the first place. What does the company do to make them obey," the Doctor asked.
Solana shook her head. "That has nothing to do with me."
"Because you don't ask," she shot back.
"That's Dr. Ryder's territory." Probably the scientist they saw walking with the executive earlier. No wonder he looked so stressed. No doubt he was coming under fire for the mysterious red-eye phenomenon that was slowly overtaking the Ood.
The Doctor held out the map for her, asking where they could find Dr. Ryder. When Solana hesitated a bit too long, Rey knew that they had lost her.
"They're over here!"
They made a break for it before the guards could show. "Oh, can you hear it," the Doctor asked. He changed directions, weaving between buildings until he stopped in front of yet another warehouse. Outwardly, it was no different from any of the other buildings apart from its smaller size. "I didn't need a map. I should've listed!"
"Does that mean we're locked in," Donna asked as he slammed the doors shut behind them.
He shushed her. "Listen. Listen, listen, listen, listen." The foyer led to a flight of stairs leading down. Cages were at the bottom, old and built into the structure itself like a dungeon. "Oh, my head."
"What is it?"
"Can't you hear it? The singing?"
Rey still couldn't hear anything.
A group of Ood huddled together in one of the cells, dirty and shivering. "They look different to the others."
"That's because they're natural-born Ood. Unprocessed. Before they're adapted to slavery. Unspoiled. That's their song."
"I can't hear it," Donna said.
"Do you want it? It's the song of captivity."
Hesitantly, Rey nodded. Donna echoed the action beside her. The tips of the Doctor's fingers were shaking a little as they pressed gently to the sides of her temples. "Open your mind." It was strange, like hearing his voice twice. It felt weird; not quite wrong, but not right either. As uncomfortable as having an IV in your arm, yet knowing that it was supposed to be helping you. She thought about pulling the line out. "It's alright. Just calm down. That's it. Hear it, hear the music…"
It was heartbreaking. The song was the most beautiful, most gut-wrenching sound she had ever heard. Her eyes teared up and her chest ached like someone had taken a shovel and scooped out something important. Next to her, Donna cried and begged the Doctor to take it away.
"Rey? Are you okay? Do you want it to stop?"
She barely heard him, caught in the symphony of sorrow and desperation and, above all else, longing. The sort that kept you awake at night, chasing the phantom feeling of happiness from years ago. "How could they live with themselves after making anyone feel like this?"
"Shhh. Let me." He put his fingers to her head again and the music was gone.
She swallowed down the leftover feelings, imagining she could swallow the music's echo with it. "We can't let them get away with this."
"We won't."
The door clattered open above them. "They're breaking in," Donna warned.
"Ah, let 'em." The Doctor managed to unlock the cage. The Ood instinctively tried to move away as he shuffled towards them. It looked like they were all protecting something in their hands.
Rey ducked in after him. "What are you holding?" She tried to keep her voice gentle. As much as a person like her could, at least.
One of the Ood looked at them shyly. "Friend," the Doctor assured him. "Rey, Doctor, Donna, friend. Look at me. Let me see." He held out his cupped hands, receiving a grey lump.
"Is that—" Donna cut herself off, a little disgusted.
"A hindbrain," the Doctor explained. "The Ood are born with a secondary brain. Like the amygdala in humans, it processes memory and emotions. You get rid of that, you wouldn't be yourselves anymore. You'd be like an Ood, a processed Ood."
"So the company amputates the hindbrain and stitches the translator on in its place?" Rey felt sick just asking.
"Like a lobotomy," Donna concluded, horrified. "I spent all that time looking for you two, Doctor, Rey, because I thought it would be so wonderful out here. I want to go home."
He looked at her, stunned and hurt, but the guards caught them before he could reply. In a show of angry defiance, the Doctor slammed the cage shut. "What are you gonna do, then? Arrest me? Lock me up? Well, you're too late! Hah!"
It wasn't the smartest plan. Or a smart one at all. Or even a plan, really. They cage was swiftly unlocked and they restrained, brought up to the executive office in an orderly fashion, and then handcuffed together and to a pole. The guard faltered when he reached Rey. "This one too? She looks all of ten years old."
"I'm eighteen," she protested stubbornly.
"Yes, that one too," the boss said.
She ended up shoved in the middle with the Doctor on her right and Donna on her left. The metal of the cuffs bit into her wrists, nearly cutting off her circulation and voiding any chance of wiggling free. She wished she had a paperclip so she could pick the lock.
"Why don't you just come out and say it," Halpen asked. "FOTO activists."
"If that's what Friends of the Ood are trying to prove, then yes," the Doctor agreed angrily.
"The Ood were nothing without us—just animals roaming around on the ice."
"That's because you can't hear them," Rey shot back. You idiot went unsaid, but judging from the twitch in his brow, the implication was nonetheless received. "Just because you can't understand something, doesn't mean it's unintelligent."
"They welcomed it," he countered. "It's not as if they put up a fight."
"You idiot," Donna voiced. "They're born with their brain in their hands, don't you see? That makes them peaceful! They've got to be because a creature like that would have to trust anyone it meets."
"The system's worked for 200 years," Halpen insisted, thinking like a businessman and not like a human being. "All we've got is a rogue batch. But the infection is about to be sterilized." He raised a comm device, asking for a status report.
"Canisters primed, sir," Kess replied. "As soon as the core heats up, the gas is released. Give it 200 marks… and counting."
"You're going to gas them," the Doctor exclaimed, struggling violently to get free.
"Kill the livestock. The classic foot-and-mouth solution. Still works."
It was a day for alarms as yet another went off. Halpen twitched again, full-bodied this time. He, Dr. Ryder, and Ood Sigma left the office to check what was going on. Rey heard gunshots and yelling through the door. There must have been another red-eye outbreak, but knowing that the Ood were fighting back didn't make her feel better. They were supposed to be a gentle, peaceful race. To see how far they'd been driven made her feel sick.
The P.A. announced an emergency situation. A few minutes later, Halpen returned, feathers ruffled, and declared a change of plans.
"No reports of trouble off-world," Dr. Ryder told him. "It's still contained to the Ood-Sphere."
"Then we've got a public duty to stop it before it spreads."
"What's happening?"
"Everything you wanted, Doctor, no doubt there'll be a full police investigation once this place has been sterilized so I can't risk a bullet to the head. I'll leave you to the mercies of the Ood."
He turned to leave, but the Doctor called out to him again. "There's something else, isn't there? Something we haven't seen."
Donna glanced over, confusion evident in her expression. "What do you mean?"
"A creature couldn't survive with a separated forebrain and hindbrain, they'd be at war with themselves. There's got to be something else, a third element. Am I right?"
"Again, so clever."
"It's connected to the red-eye," Rey figured. And probably the circle the Ood kept mentioning. "What is it?"
"It won't exist for very much longer. Enjoy your Ood." The door banged shut loudly behind Halpen.
No matter how they struggled, they couldn't get free. Rey thought about telling the Doctor or Donna to break one of her thumbs, but the cuffs were so tight that she wasn't sure it would make a difference. They only had a few minutes alone before the Ood finally made their way into the office. Menacing red eyes glowed brighter as they advanced. Translation orbs were held up like weapons, and she had a feeling that the bite was much worse than a standard electroshock weapon.
"Rey, Doctor, Donna, friends," the Doctor tried.
"The circle must be broken," Donna shouted.
They repeated it over and over, hoping to get through. Rey, Doctor, Donna, friends. The circle must be broken. Rey, Doctor, Donna, friends. The circle must be broken. At the very last moment, the Ood stopped.
She held her breath, heart caught in her throat.
"Rey. Doctor. Donna. Friends."
"That's me! Us!"
"Yes, that's us! Friends! Oh, yes!"
"Can you let us go?"
Kindly, they did. As soon as they were free, Rey, the Doctor, and Donna ran out and across the compound. "I don't know where it is," the Doctor admitted. "I don't know where they've gone!"
"What are we looking for?"
"Might be underground, like some sort of cave or…" The shockwave of a nearby explosion sent them to the ground. If this was real, Rey was going to be covered in bruises after all this. "Alright?"
She pointed to Sigma. The Ood was standing out in the open, completely at ease like he wasn't in the middle of a warzone. Patiently, he waited for them to get up before leading them to Warehouse 15. Both Dr. Ryder and Halpen were inside, standing in front of a giant brain. Some kind of force field kept it contained, delivering harsh zaps every few seconds.
"The Ood Brain. Now it all makes sense. That's the missing link. The third element, binding them together. Forebrain, hindbrain, and this. The telepathic centre. It's a shared mind… connecting all the Ood in song."
Her ears registered the click of a gun's safety being released. Halpen held the weapon at them looking to be near the end of his rope. The Doctor took a half step forward in front of her in a protective gesture was appreciated, but unnecessary. Unless he was bulletproof or Halpen was a spectacularly bad shot, there were plenty of bullets to go around.
"Cargo. I can always go into cargo. I've got the rockets, I've got the sheds. Smaller business. Much more manageable without livestock."
"He's mined the area," Dr. Ryder warned. Clearly something had caused him to shift loyalties, if he was ever on Halpen's side in the first place.
"You're gonna kill it."
"They found that thing centuries ago beneath the northern glacier."
"The pylons…" Rey tried to keep her voice down. "The circle."
"'The circle must be broken,'" Donna quoted in realization.
"Dampening the telepathic field, stopping the Ood from connecting for 200 years," the Doctor reasoned out.
Caught in his own world, Halpen ignored them, trying to clean up and make contingencies. "And you, Ood Sigma, you brought them here. I expected better."
"My place is at your side, sir." Sigma moved to stand by the other man.
"Still subservient. Good Oo…"
"So it's taken them this long to adapt," Rey asked, trying to make sense of everything.
"But the process was too slow," Dr. Ryder added. "You should have never given me access to the controls, Mr. Halpen. I lowered the barrier to its minimum. Friends of the Ood, sir. It's taken me ten years to infiltrate the company. And I succeeded."
"Yes. Yes, you did." Coldly, without hesitation or remorse, Halpen shoved Dr. Ryder over the railing. He fell screaming down into the brain, swallowed up by the longitudinal fisher.
"You… murdered him," Donna gasped out, sounding as horrified as Rey felt.
"Very observant, Ginger. Now then, can't say I've ever shot anyone before… Can't say I'm gonna like it, but, uh, it's not exactly a normal day, isn't it? Still…"
Sigma stepped in front of him before he could fire and offered out a shot glass filled with clear liquid. "Would you like a drink, Sir?"
"I think hair loss is the least of my problems right now, thanks."
"Please have a drink, sir," Sigma genially insisted.
"If— If you're gonna stand in their way, I'll shoot you too." Halpen's voice wavered, but it wasn't out of fear or indecisiveness. It also gained a strange quality as he forced out the last few words out. A throaty gurgle tinged his speech like he was trying to keep something down. "Have… Have you… poisoned me?"
"Natural Ood must never kill, sir."
"What's in the drink," Rey asked.
"Ood-graft suspended in a biological compound," Sigma answered. He didn't reassure her of Halpen's fate. After all, there were a lot of things worse than death. The Ood had already been driven so far, and she couldn't help the feeling in the pit of her gut that worried they might've been pushed a step too far.
But maybe… They were such a kind, peacefully species by nature. She hadn't felt any of the anger and frustration the red eyed Ood seemed to radiate in their song. Even now, Sigma didn't give off any hint of hostility. Maybe this was going to be a show of a different kind of do-or-die.
"What the hell does that mean," Halpen choked out.
"Oh dear," the Doctor remarked, realizing something the others hadn't.
"Tell me!"
The thing about desperation, was that as debilitating and paralyzing as it could be, it could also be the strongest catalyst in the world. Desperation drove people further than they could ever get on their own. The Ood were desperate, and in their desperation, they didn't just lash out.
They'd gotten creative.
"Funny thing, the subconscious. Takes all sorts of shapes. It came out in the red-eye as revenge. It came out in the rabid Ood as anger. And then there was patience. All that intelligence and mercy focused on Ood Sigma. How's the hair loss, Mr. Halpen," the Doctor asked.
"What have you done?"
"Oh, they've been preparing you for a very long time. And now you're standing next to the Ood Brain. Mr. Halpen, can you hear it? Listen."
The gun clattered to the floor. Halpen's hands came up to grab his head. Shudders racked his body, and he cried out as they overtook him. When his hands came away, his scalp went with, splitting down the middle to reveal a new Ood head underneath. The tattered skin fell to the ground as tendrils spilled out from his mouth.
"They— they turned him into an Ood," Donna asked like she hadn't just seen it herself.
"Yup."
"He's an Ood."
"I noticed."
With a plop, the newly transformed Halpen coughed up his secondary brain. "He has become Ood-kind and we will take care of him," Sigma announced, just as genially as Rey imagined he repeatedly offered Halpen the tonics that led to his transformation.
"I'm not sure if he deserved that," she said. "But I suppose it's better than killing him. Is it always like this with you?"
Donna snorted. "You have no idea. Traveling with you and the Doctor, I can't tell what's right and what's wrong anymore."
"It's better that way," he said. "People who know for certain tend to be like Mr. Halpen." A sudden rapid beeping reminded him of the nearby bomb. He rushed over to disarm it, succeeding with ease. "That's better. And now… Ood Sigma, will you allow us the honor?"
"It is yours."
He waved Rey over to the controls and pointed to the correct button. It was big and red, fitting in a way she couldn't explain. "Stifled for over 200 years, but not anymore. The circle is broken. The Ood can sing!"
Her hand slammed down on the release, shutting the force field off. It was quiet for a moment until a song, beautiful and so, so happy filled her ears.
Donna let out a delighted gasp. "I can hear it!" Sigma raised his hands in the air in a celebratory gesture. The Doctor pulled her in a crushing embrace. Rey hesitated for a moment before hugging him back, arms coming up to so she could grip at his brown coat. It felt weird to be this happy, like she wasn't sure if it was allowed. The feeling bubbled in her belly, effervescent, and threatened to burst out of her like hiccups.
The warmth lasted all the way back to the TARDIS, through the hills and fields of piled up snow. "The message has gone out," the Doctor told them. "That song resonated across the galaxies. Everyone heard it. Everyone knows. The rockets are bringing them back. The Ood are coming home."
Sigma led the group of Ood who had come to send them off. Rey hoped that all that patience of him would help in his new leadership position. "We thank you, Rey, Doctor-Donna, friends of Ood-kind. And what of you now? Will you stay? There is room in the song for you."
"Oh— We've— I've sorta got a song of my own, thanks."
"I think your song must end soon."
The Doctor paused. "Meaning?"
"Every song must end. But you're song is just beginning," Sigma said to Rey.
Choosing to mull it over later, the Doctor agreed. "What about you," he asked Donna. "Do you still want to go home?"
"No. Definitely not."
He grinned. "Then we'll be off."
"Take this song with you. And know this, Rey, Doctor-Donna, you will never be forgotten. Our children will sing of the Rey and the Doctor-Donna, and our children's children, and the wind and the ice and the snow will carry your names forever."
She wasn't sure what she expected to happen upon returning to the TARDIS. Waking up, maybe, or simply reappearing in her hospital room the same way she had appeared in the middle of the snow. Neither happened, and there were no signs of either occurring anytime soon. Rey waited awkwardly until Donna retreated to her room to ambush the Doctor. Though bone tired and already sore, nothing would stop her from getting her answers. As thrilling and satisfying as their adventure had been, she was still so confused. "You said you'd explain it to me."
Fiddling with a few controls, he set the TARDIS on autopilot before plopping down on the edge of the grated platform. He pat the empty space next to him as an invitation, but she stood her ground by the pillar. It had the best vantage of both the door and the mouth of the corridor.
A look of hurt flashed across the Doctor's face. "What do you want to know?"
Rey paused. She wanted to demand to be told everything, but she had a feeling that things would turn out terribly if she did. The Doctor might lie, or he might omit a few details. No matter if it was by whim or necessity, she knew she'd be hurt in the future when she found out. She also knew herself enough to know that she'd get angry if he said outright he couldn't tell her anything. Either way, it was no way to build the foundation of any relationship, and if the Doctor could be believed, this was just the beginning of theirs.
"Let's say I believe you that this is all real… What do I do here? You said this wasn't the first time we met, and Donna knew who I was too, so I just… jump around in time?"
"Well I wouldn't say 'jump.' It's more like you materialize via spatial-temporal modulation centering around a fixed existence throughout time and space… yeah, you jump timelines. One specifically. Mine."
She swallowed down the immediate reflex to deny it. "How is that even possible? You travel in this huge time machine and I don't even wear a wristwatch."
"I'm working on that." So he had a theory, but whether it was because it was immature or he didn't want to upset her, he chose not to disclose it. "But Rey, there are a few things you need to know about me, well, more than a few things, but a few key things."
"Like what?" She almost wished she hadn't asked. Time Lords, two hearts, and… "You change your face?"
He winced. "Regeneration. New face, new everything."
"Does it hurt?"
The smile he gave her was awful. Rey hadn't known before now that curving your lips upward could form a cringe. Clearly this wasn't a topic he liked discussing. He probably didn't even like to think about it. "The reason I'm telling you this is because your 'jumping' isn't just limited to this me. So if you see another man with a different face calling himself the Doctor… he's me. Or I'm him."
"How long do these trips usually last?"
He shrugged. "Shortest was a few hours. The longest so far has been fifteen days."
"And this is what you do? You take people around the universe, play tourist, and help out when you can?"
He shrugged again. "It's what we do, yeah."
"I'm not good at helping people," she warned. "Or interacting with them in general. Ask anyone."
"You helped the Ood today," he pointed out. And you're always saving me."
Rey didn't know what to say to that. The person the Doctor and Donna had described didn't sound like her at all. Part of her was sure that they were mistaken. Maybe there was some other girl who traveled the Doctor's timeline, making witty remarks and helping to save the day.
Another part of her, quieter and more hesitant but just as large, wanted to be that girl. Adventure called to her, enticingly sweet and finally within reach. Wearing the face of an all-too magnetic man and his impossibly wonderful box.
She folded up those trains of thought for later perusal since it seemed she wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. "Will you give me a tour? I should know my way around since I'm going to be sticking around for a while."
This time, the Doctor's grin was genuine. Rey didn't return it, but she did take the first step towards him.
"You're gonna love the library."
