"Mornin, Abby. I thought you had work?"
Rose sits down across from me at the kitchen table, picking up an apple from the basket in the middle. I still find it funny that mom buys apples, even though no one eats them. The fact that Rose picked one up at all clues me into just how much she's still thinking about last night. I don't blame her. I got about five hours of sleep before I woke up in a cold sweat, having dreamt about plastic monsters trying to eat me. Then, once I was awake, all I could think about was that man. Who was he? How did he know about the plastic? He obviously wasn't police, although he did have a military-like confidence about him. Out of all the unanswered questions that raced through my mind, there was one that haunted me the most.
Did he make it out?
"Abby~," Rose intones with a laugh. My cheeks redden.
"Morning, sis. I did, but decided to call in sick. I'm still...a little shaken up...about last night."
"Yeah, me too," she sighs, "plus I've got no job now."
Rose doesn't look that upset about it. In fact, despite what happened, there's something new in her eyes. A shine...a fire in the depths, drawn forth by curiosity and the sense of more.
My own soul burns in tandem. A wish has come closer than ever before. One question balances on the precipice.
Will I have the courage to take hold of it?
"What about Finch's," Mom comments from the kitchen. She joins us at the table with an imploring look Rose's way. Rose rolls her eyes. "Yeah, great. The butcher's."
"Well it's not like you have many options," she scolds, "And I'm not joking about compensation! You've had genuine shock and trauma."
The corner of Rose's eye twitches, and I have to hold back a smirk at her expense. After a few more comments from mom, I decide to take pity on my sister.
"Hey, Mom," I interject with innocence, "aren't you meeting with Debbie in an hour?"
"Oh! Is it 9 already?" She exclaims, jumping up from the table and rushing to her room. Rose chuckles, sending me a small smile.
"Thanks, Abs."
"Yup," I chuckle, "She's just trying to help, you know."
"Yeah, yeah," she waves her hand in abject agreement. We sit in contemplative silence for awhile before she brightens all of a sudden, smacking her hand on the table. I raise an eyebrow in silent question at her antics.
"Let's corroborate what happened last night! I think it'd be a good idea to write everything down, just in case we, I don't know, end up going to the police maybe…"
I was nodding before she even finished. That did seem like a good idea, yes. That way we could also expand on what we saw, maybe try to make sense of it all.
"Okay. I'll go get a notebook and pen from our room." I agree, pushing away from the table. The apartment only has two bedrooms, so Rose and I share a room. We've always gotten along, so the cramped four walls never really posed much of a problem. The room split almost evenly in half by our different color preferences. Her side overflowed with shades of pink, cluttered with knick knacks of all kinds. My side looked significantly more tame with plum purple and grey tones. I've been told on many occasions that my side of the room reflects my personality. Once, I asked Mickey what personality that was exactly.
His respond had been to laugh, and then proceed to say, "Nothing bad, just that you're rather...normal?"
Before that wonderful conversation, never in my life had I thought the word normal could be so insulting to hear. Oh well.
Rose had always been the more chaotically beautiful one, anyways.
My favorite pen wasn't in the place I usually left it, which probably means its within the depths of Rose's territory. Before I can dutifully begin my search, I hear a noise. It's coming from the front door, sounding almost like scratching at the cat-flap.
"Mom!" I shout from my crouched position next to Rose's bed, "You closed the cat-flap when Rose told you to a couple of weeks ago, right?"
"Yeah, nailed it shut." She sounds confused by my asking, so she's obviously telling the truth. I hum in puzzlement, giving up on my search in lieu of a new mystery. The front door itself looks in tack, so I turn my attention to the cat-flap. There're screws lying on the floor below it. My curiosity turns into slight fear when the flap jerks open randomly, like something pushed on it. I gulp, but bend down and reach my hand out anyways. It shakes as I push up the flap, bending my body even more to properly see through the small opening. What I see on the other side shocks me, while at the same time I feel like a weight is lifted off my shoulders.
It was the Doctor.
Quickly dropping the flap, I jump up and pull the door open as fast as humanly possible. Leather, blue eyes, and big ears greet me on the other side.
The Doctor's brow furrows in consternation.
"What are you doing here?" He asks, a suspicious edge to his voice. I take no notice to it.
My hand reaches out towards him as I answer unthinkingly, "I live here." He scoffs.
"Well what'd you do that for?" My finger sinks into the leather at his shoulder, and he raises his eyebrows. The blue of his eyes is shocking. Everything about him seems so intangible. I just want to make sure he's real. That I'm not crazy.
"Cause I do," I mumble, poking him again. The leather of his jacket is stiff, like its the first time he's worn it. "What are you doing here?"
"Must have got the wrong signal," he says, completely ignoring my repetitive poking, "You're not plastic are you?" He reaches up and knocks on my head like he's knocking on a door. I jerk back, more at his words than really at his actions. Was that a possibility? Can they turn humans into plastic?
"Nope. Bone head. Bye then!"
"Wait!" My hand grasps his before I even think about it, halting his exit. I can't let him leave when I still don't know anything!
Once again he raises his eyebrows at me, and I feel my face heat up, but I don't drop his hand. It's warm, warmer than a hand should be. I once again find a weird sense of comfort from touching him. It's concerning...but hardly a priority at the moment. I need him to stay, explain things. Even if I can't make him explain everything. There's one question that takes precedence over my curiosity.
"I-I don't know what happened yesterday, and I get the feeling that I probably won't completely understand, but at least tell me this," I take a deep breath, looking into his eyes to gauge his honesty.
"Are people still in danger?"
Immediately, his eyes brighten. Not in excitement, no, but rather in recognition of something. Something I can't see or don't know about. He opens his mouth, but the answer never leaves it, because Rose finally notices us.
"Oi!" She practically shoves me out of the way and grabs the Doctor by the shoulder, roughly tugging him into the apartment. "You. Inside, now!"
He stumbles after her, a look of indignation flashing across his feature. I cover my mouth to stop from giggling. His eyes snap to me and narrow, like he knows I'm internally laughing at his expense. My eyebrows raise in silent challenge.
"Who's at the door?" Mom yells from her room. I give Rose a look that says You deal with her this time, before walking into the living room and sitting down.
If people are still in danger, if my family is in danger...I have to help him. Logically, it doesn't make sense that I even could, since I know absolutely nothing about the situation. But the thought of just standing by and letting whatever's happening continue...my stomach turns just considering it. There's so much I'm confused about though. How are we in danger from plastic? Obviously, it's a real threat, or the Doctor wouldn't have gone and blown up a building to stop it. If they, whoever they are, can turn humans into plastic, then the threat becomes rather obvious. Although, how did the plastic become sentient? Become evil? Is it even evil? Or is there a semi legitimate reason behind it all? If you think about it though, using something as inconspicuous as plastic to take over the world is positively genius.
I chuckle at my own speculation. I should be more worried, probably, but I just can't find it in me to be freaked out while the Doctor is here. I know he'll figure it out.
My thoughts stutter.
Why am I automatically trusting him? I've no idea who he is. It's the same as when he held my hand at Henrik's. Almost like, as long as he did so, as long as he was near, everything would turn out alright.
"Abigail. Kind of an old-fashioned name, don't you think?"
My focus sharpens into the present, eyes quickly meeting the Doctor's. He's smiling, like there's a joke I missed and he's waiting for the moment it occurs to me.
"Old fashioned...I feel like I've somehow traveled to the future with everything that's happened," I mumble distractedly. "I assume most people must thinks it's old fashioned as well, seeing as how everyone calls me Abby." His smile widens.
"To answer your question," he speaks up, fiddling with a deck of cards I didn't notice were in his hands, "the problem is not resolved. People are still in danger."
I stand up unconsciously as my mind spins with theories, "Doesn't that mean the source wasn't at the shop? And you said relay, so that must mean that it was planted to extend a signal. And who is controlling it? I have a feeling you know, but..." I trail off when the same scuttling sound from before reaches my ear. The Doctor mustn't have heard it, because he continues to stare at me with a weird look. Pride? Happiness? Sadness?
The scuttling happens again, this time louder, catching the Doctor's attention.
"What's that then? Have you got a cat?"
I shake my head no, turning around as the noise sounds once again from behind the couch. The Doctor joins me, and we lean forward to see. It happens before either of us can react.
Something flies up, latching onto my throat, causing me to stumble back with a strangled cry. In the back of my mind I think it's the bloody plastic arm.
The Doctor immediately starts trying to pry the arm off of me, instead causing it's grip to tighten, cutting off my circulation. Rose chooses this moment to finally join us. She barely even glances at our struggle before rolling her eyes.
"You boys are all the same, give em a plastic arm...But why the hell are you feeding into it Abby? That's not like you," she sighs, setting the coffees on the table, "I thought I told Mickey to throw that thing away last night…Anyways, I really think we should go to the police."
The room starts to blur, a small gasp escaping my mouth in a feeble attempt to suck in air. My lungs stutter. A sudden thought passes through the fog of pain.
Please don't let me die by mannequin arm!
As though in answer to my silent prayer, the Doctor finally wrenches it off. My body crashes to the floor with a thud, and I greedily gulp in air. The Doctor loses his grip and the arm swings around mid fall.
Rose has half a second to be completely stunned, before the arm rushes her and palms her face aggressively.
"Rose!" I croak. My throat aches, I can already feel bruises forming, but I don't stop. I tackle Rose, sitting on her stomach and leveraging my foot on the ground. The Doctor grabs my shoulders and together we pull. With a pop the arm comes off. The Doctor quickly snatches it from my hands and shoves his blue device into its palm, making it freeze up.
Then the Doctor is pulling me up, tossing the hand down to a flabbergasted Rose as she sits up, and sitting me down onto the couch. He kneels in front of me.
"It's alright, I've stopped it," he says. I go to thank him, but stop when he shakes his head. The hands on my forearms move to cup my head, and he gently tilts it back.
"Oh, my god," Rose breathes when she joins the Doctor, inspecting my neck as well. "I'm so sorry, Abs. I just—I mean—"
"She'll be fine," the Doctor interrupts with a slight edge. Rose switches gears at the tone of his voice, instead glaring at him and whacking him with the now immobile arm.
"Ow!"
"Don't ow me mister! You've got so much explaining to do!" He looks at me, the apology clear in his eye, but his only response is to pat my cheek twice before standing up. My eyes widen as he makes his exit, without saying a word. Rose jumps into action instantly.
"Hold on a minute! You just can't go swanning off!"
She dashes out the front door after him, but I can't find the motivation to run right now. Plus, Rose is in full-on Jackie mode, so I know she'll interrogate the Doctor persistently and properly. To pass the time I start that list of everything that happened yesterday, as well as force myself to drink some chamomile. It hurts to swallow, but I know it'll help in the long run. The list takes an hour, mostly because I add a theory to everything I write down. Still no word from Rose, but my thoughts are easily occupied. I fall into my head space.
Rose calls an hour later, the blaring tone of my cellphone jolting me back to reality.
"I met with this Clive chap," she starts without even a hello, "And he says that the Doctor has been around forever! He had pictures and everything, but I'll explain more about that later, I don't really want to get into it now. Mickey and I are heading over to St. Claire's to have a bit of pizza. We'll meet you there!" She hangs up. I'd be a little offended if I wasn't so curious, and if I didn't know my sister so well.
St. Claire's is only a ten minute walk from the estate, so it doesn't take long to get there. They've already got themselves a table when I walk in. As I approach them, my eyes snap to Mickey first.
What the hell? Why is he smiling like that? His face looks so stiff…
"Just tell me about the Doctor," Mickey finishes saying, a weird consistency to his voice. Like he's talking through a receiver.
"Mickey, I told you I don't want to talk about him right now," Rose turns to me with a smile, "Hey, Abs, how's the throat?"
"It's fine…" I sneak another glance at Mickey as I sit. He's glaring at me subtly. Something in his eyes make me shiver. Those aren't Mickey's eyes.
"What's wrong with him?" I whisper at Rose, inclining my head in his direction. She gives me a confused look. Mickey distracts her again by asking about the Doctor. At the edge of my consciousness, there's an answer. Something the Doctor said...about the plastic…
"Oh my god," realization washes over me, "Rose, that's not Mick-"
"Is anyone going to take this champagne?"
"For the last time, we didn't order any-" Mickey stops when he sees who's standing there, "Ah, there you are."
By the time my brain catches up to my body, I'm standing next to the Doctor, my hand clutching his forearm.
"Doctor, I don't think that's Mickey," I mumble quickly. He smiles without turning towards me.
"Don't mind me!" he begins shaking the bottle, "Just toasting the happy couple!" The cork shoots out hitting Mickey in the forehead, but instead of bouncing off, it sinks into his head.
Then he spits it out his mouth.
I blanch. Mickey smirks.
"Right then."
Chaos ensues, as seems to be the theme with this blue eyed man. Mickey's hand morphs into a rectangle, and he starts to smash everything in his path. Patrons in the restaurant are screaming, the Doctor is attacking Mickey, putting him in a headlock, and I haven't moved an inch. It all happened so fast.
My frozen state changes when the Doctor pulls Mickey's head off.
"Don't think that'll stop me." the head snarls. The body swings around to Rose and I, taking an aggressive step towards us.
My body thaws instantly.
Two strides get me to the fire alarm and I pull it.
"Rose!" She must know I meant for her to follow me, because she does without further prompting. I race to the back exit, hoping that the body will follow us this way, and not the crowd of customers that are rushing out the front. We burst into the back alley and my eyes frantically search for an exit. There's only one, a gate, but I can see the padlock from here. My heart sinks.
Then an idea strikes. The gate is too tall for one person to climb over on their own, but there's two of us!
"Rose, come on!" I snatch her hand and run to the gate. "I'm going to boost you up."
"What?!" She rips her hand out of mine, "Are you kidding me? I'm not leaving you!"
"Rose," I say quickly, "You can go get help. You're faster than me and if anyone was going to be able to convince the police that we need help, it'd definitely be you." My voice sounds calm, reasonable. On the inside, my heart beats out of control. I'm scared for myself, but I'm more scared for Rose. If anything happened to her, I'd never be able to face mom again.
"Rose," I plead. She ignores me, looking at something over my shoulder.
"Doctor! Open the gate with your tube thingy!" She yells frantically. I spin, having forgotten about the Doctor in my panic to get Rose away from danger. He's standing next to a blue Public Call Box that I also hadn't noticed in my panic, staring at us.
Our eyes connect, and once again I find myself lost in the blue. Confused by the look in them as he watches me. It's ancient, deep. It's familiar.
I don't realize I'm holding my breath until his expression breaks swiftly into a smile, dispelling the tense feeling within me, and I take a shaky inhale.
"Let's go in here, then," he says jovially, gesturing with Mickey's severed head to follow him. I do with hesitation, wondering what could possibly be in there that would help us. I hear Rose yelling angrily behind me, but I continue, knowing she'll follow me.
As I get closer, warmth bleeds into me from the box. Instincts are telling me I should be warry, but I ignore my gut. The Doctor left the door ajar, and I chance a peek inside.
My mind blanks for a second. It's bigger.
On the inside.
This is proof. Not everything is as it seems. One of my wishes, one I didn't even know I had.
Come inside.
And the wish falls gently into my waiting hands.
