He would have to infiltrate the Inferno.
That was the only solution. He would have to muddy up his appearance, pull a few strings, find Amy, and run.
The Doctor checked his calendar - Amy had been gone for 14 weeks.
He tried to avoid thinking about what the sick, twisted people there could be doing to her right now, at this very moment. It was too much to bear. He had seen a lot of messed up shit in his long life, but it usually was never directly linked to him. This time, it was different. A person that he loved was in trouble.
The heels she was required to wear were extremely uncomfortable. With every step she took, she winced.
This had been Amy's job for God knows how long. She lost track of the days.
They threatened her life, she begged for them to take it. Death would be better than this.
Having to sell her body to criminals disgusted her. It made her feel inhuman, like an object there for other people's amusement.
She had been a kissogram, but that was completely different. That was fun, enjoyable on both ends of the service. But this, this was her getting raped every single day.
They never even asked what her name was.
The Doctor needed to change his look. No prison would take a man with a bow-tie seriously.
Where to start? He didn't know what look to choose - Anarchist? Thug? Prep-with-a-secret?
Anything would look ridiculous on his lanky figure. He could almost laugh.
After a day of shopping, he surveyed his work.
Black plaid buttoned shirt, open in the front, with a black t-shirt underneath that displayed an X-rated image.
All-American Levi's with holes in the knees. Nike sneakers.
Not quite criminal, but enough of a don't-fuck-with-me tone to get him through until he found Amy.
The Doctor gelled his hair differently, spiking it upwards instead of swooshing it to the side.
Armed with only his SONIC and some brass-knuckles just for show, he dove into the black hole.
"Hey there, you for sale?" A grimy, cigar-smoking, tattooed man pointed at her.
She cleared her throat, reminding herself that she was a person but she had to sell herself.
"Yea, yea, baby. Why? You lookin' for somethin'?"
"Bitch, if I wasn't lookin' for somethin' I wouldn't had axed ya. You dumb or somethin? Come on, let's go." He pulled her by her arm, leading her into a dark alley.
"Hey, you gotta pay up ya know," she couldn't afford to miss out on money. If she didn't reach her quota by the end of the day, her boss would torture her.
"I ain't gotta do shit!" He slapped her and threw her to the ground.
She yelped when her face made contact with the filthy ground.
"What the fuck! I'm for sale, not a freebie. You gotta pay or I'm outta here!"
"I don't give two shits about your price, you hear me?"
She could feel a gun on her temple. Oh yes, she thought, please, shoot me!
"I ain't gonna kill ya, don't worry. I just need you to shut the fuck up and get to work," he whispered in her ear.
He felt defenseless without his TARDIS nearby. The Doctor landed in front of the gates to the Inferno.
Hardening his face, he walked through the entrance and looked around.
There were many streets leading off in multiple directions. There were billboards with naked women and guns painted on them. The sky was a blood-tinted hue of grey and the ground was just as dull.
He heard music and conversations and car tires squealing. He heard gun shots and pleads and maniacal laughter.
Where to begin?
Strutting down the street directly in front of him, the Doctor tried to look like he belonged there, even though he was utterly frightened and out of place.
He passed several bars and stores with ragged signs in the window.
It was like a disturbed society, a whole other universe.
"Yo, you lookin' for someone?" he heard a rough voice behind him.
Shit, he thought, he hadn't planned any actual contact with anyone.
"Yea, actually, I just got sent here. Where's the best place for findin' women?" He internally chuckled at his sad attempt to act tough.
"You don't look like a bad guy. Whatcha in for?" the man looked suspicious.
"I blew up a planet a few galaxies down. I was bored and, ya know, I wanted to cause some trouble," the Doctor was unsure of himself. Would the man buy his story?
"Awesome, man! I'd always wanted to do somethin' like that. You want women?"
The Doctor nodded.
"I'll show ya women," the man turned and started walking. The Doctor followed.
Amy's makeup was a mess, her hair was flopped over on the wrong side.
One of her stilettos had broken off and she limped back to where her boss's house was.
She knocked on the door and bowed, waiting for him to open the door.
"What the fuck happened to you?" He wasn't concerned, just accusatory.
"A man wanted me and I told him to pay but he didn't and then heā¦used me without paying money and he broke my heel and I'm a mess and..."
Her boss slammed the door in her face.
Defeated and scared, Amy took off her other shoe and ran. She figured she'd get stopped, but it didn't matter. There could be nothing worse than this.
She ran and ran, ducking into storefronts every few yards to catch her breath and check out her surroundings. She knew there was nowhere to go, but at least she was trying.
She kept going in one direction, occasionally switching roads so she could avoid suspicion.
Her legs finally gave out, and she stumbled into a little niche between two buildings. Sitting down, she prayed.
Amy hadn't prayed in years. She almost forgot how to.
Lips moving, she silently uttered pleas to whoever would listen, whether it was God or Buddha or Ghandi or whatever. She hadn't paid attention in her World Religions class.
Was the Doctor even looking for her? Had he given up?
She could feel the tears streaming down her face, dripping onto her bare knees, moving down on to the ground.
For the first time, she gave herself a sort of primitive health check.
There were bruises up and down her arms that reminded her of that rash she had gotten so long ago. There were cuts and more bruises on her legs.
She was certain that there was a lot of tissue damage between her thighs.
Her chest was beaten and bloody, her ribs hurt, her neck was stiff.
There was grime underneath her fingernails.
A few shreds of cloth covered her breasts and lower regions, but everything else was on full display.
Exhausted and sore, Amy fell asleep.
Um so this story is failing miserably. I had a great idea, but I feel like it was a lot better in my head than written down. There will be one more chapter after this one, then I'm basically done writing Doctor Who fics xD
Anyways, how about that season 6 premiere? Gosh, I'm so mind fucked right now!
