Chapter Two
-2007: London, England-
Andrew glared at David with as much venom as he could muster. "Let go of me."
David rocked back on his heels slightly, his other hand shoved into his pocket. "Oh, I'm really afraid I can't."
The arrogant ass. Andrew, in a fit of rage, stomped down onto his foot. David yelped, momentarily releasing his grip on Andrew's arm. Taking the chance, Andrew quickly sprinted off, his shoes slapping against the cement. He was really out of shape. He should've went to the gym much more often!
Oh crap. The street was packed with cars, each one moving at a snails pace. Quickly making a decision, Andrew charged across the street, dodging between the cars. Making it to the other side of the street, he quickly caught sight of a nearby newspaper stand. He stomped up to the stand and snatched up the newspaper, gasping when he realised it was 2007.
He was in 2007. He was in the past. Suddenly feeling sick, he turned around to face David striding down the street, his face grim. Oh wait, does this mean...?
Andrew suddenly wanted to throw up. He wasn't just in the past. He was in another universe. Which meant, the man he thought was David is actually...
"Holy fuck, I'm in the Doctor's universe..." He whispered to himself, turning around once again to run away. Breathing erratic, he charged through a large crowd, not even bothering to say anything to the people. He had to get away from there. He just had to get somewhere to clear his head. He had never been in London before, but he was sure he would be able to go somewhere.
He caught sight of a Cafe, and quickly ducked inside, making sure to keep his head down. The people were all enjoying themselves, having a normal day. Drinking tea, laughing, reading the newspaper. And here he was running from a man he thought was fiction. He saw the sign for the restrooms, and he quickly ducked inside of the Men's. There were only two stalls, but thankfully they were both empty. Shaking, he slipped into the one closest to the door. He had to be ready to run if need be. Thinking quickly, he stood up on the toilet and squatted. Perhaps the Doctor would think the lock was broken or something? If only he had an "Out-of-order" sign or something.
Seconds later, the door to the restroom burst open, and Andrew held his breath in. He remembered reading all of the fanfictions about just this type of thing... Hopefully, if he held his breath the Doctor wouldn't be able to hear him? He sure as hell didn't want the Doctor to catch him. He had read all about him in those fanfictions, and had also watched all of the episodes of him. His track record was less than impressive. Also, if his hunch was correct, then the Doctor was going to be growing a lot more dark soon, and Andrew didn't want to be around for that. Sure, if he was a lot younger, he might've been excited, but...
"I know you're in here, Andrew." The Doctor sang, and Andrew felt a shiver go down his spine. How did the Doctor know his name?
Lungs aching, Andrew tried a shallow breath. The second he inhaled, the door to his stall was flung open, and he was staring face to face with the Oncoming Storm himself.
"No!" He managed to gasp as the Doctor grasped his arm, pulling him out.
"It's okay! I can help you! Please, just stop panicking!" The Doctor shook him, and he felt like punching the Doctor in the face. He will not allow himself to be hypnotised by the brute. "Don't you think you're a bit tired, Andrew?" The Doctor said firmly, and Andrew started to feel drowsy.
"I'm not getting fucking hypnotised by any of your voo-doo Time Lord shit, so just let me go!" Andrew snapped out of his drowsiness, pulling on his arm.
The Doctor, startled, only clamped down harder on his arm. Gritting his teeth, the Doctor sighed.
"Well, if you want to do this hard way, then we'll do this hard way." The Doctor suddenly swung at Andrew's head, and his eyes widened. Suddenly, it felt like he was falling again.
"Yes, yes... Sleep, Andrew..." The Doctor's voice became fainter, and he was falling asleep. Andrew tried willing himself awake, but it didn't work, and he felt his resolve melt away...
Where was he? It was cold here. Andrew rubbed his arms, trying to look around the darkness. He remembered being chased by the Doctor, and being forced to sleep by him, but now... Where was he?
"Hello, Andrew." A familiar voice rang out, and Andrew gasped. It was the old man from the airport. He stood infront of him, his white beard glowing despite there being no other sources of light.
"Why am I here?" Andrew finally found his voice, and flinched when it echoed around the darkness. The old man only smiled sadly, and raised his hand.
"You have been sent here in order to fulfill a task."
"And what task is this?" Andrew asked, his voice small. It was too cold here.
"The task to bring light to the Doctor, Andrew Evans." The old man smiled warmly, and Andrew felt warmth fill his body as well.
"But, how did I get into this universe? And also... who are you?" Andrew asked the man, his curiosity aroused.
The old man shook his head. "All answers will come in Time, Andrew."
Andrew crossed his arms, shivering. "Please, can you just tell me... My friends... What happened to them?"
The old man gave him a look of pity. "They are dead, burned alive in an airplane explosion."
Andrew felt his heart in his throat at that sentence, and he quickly swallowed his tears. "But... You were on that plane..."
The old man gave him a small smirk, and cocked his head to the side. "Oh, was I?"
Andrew's eyes widened, and he quickly opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. He saw the Old Man's image start to fade, and he reached his hand out, wanting to pull him back.
"Until next time, Andrew..." The Old Man's image finally faded, and Andrew was left alone.
He was so alone.
Andrew opened his eyes slowly, blinking as he took in the surrounding shapes of his bedroom. Ah. It was just a dream. He saw his open books on his desk, pens and other bits all over the place. He grimaced. He should clean that up today. He supposed he was a bit stupid last night, though. It was a perfect opportunity for a lucid dream! He sighed, moving his feet off the bed onto the floor and crossing the room. Wait...
"Why am I still in my normal clothes?" He frowned, feeling the rough fabric of his shorts. And then there was...
Joel's marijuana stashed in his underwear.
He gasped, suddenly realising that everything actually had happened. Blinking quickly, he checked his hands. Better to make sure he didn't have six fingers or anything. If he did, he would know he was in a dream. Paling, he turned his eyes to his bedroom door, which stood forebodingly in the corner of the room. Gulping, he slowly raised his hand to the knob and opened the door.
Holy shit. He was in the TARDIS. Mouth agape, he wandered into the corridor and looked around. Large coral struts were placed at regular intervals throughout it, and a sinister orange light pulsed through the corridor. There was a small hum as he raised his hand to touch one of the coral beams, and he hissed when he felt a shock. Filled with anger, he turned to march down the hall, hoping it would lead him to the console room. Perhaps then he could walk right out the doors.
Unfortunately, it led him to what he assumed was the medbay. Long, pale blue beds were arranged in a circular fashion around what looked like a round medical shelf. Infact, it looked similar to the console room, except every wall was filled with medical supplies and drugs. Looking up, he couldn't even see the top. The walls just seemed to stretch up forever, levels and levels of drugs every which way. Anger momentarily forgotten, Andrew turned his head to look at the Doctor, who stood by with a frown on his face.
"We need to talk."
Andrew felt his anger return, and he suppressed the urge to punch him in the face. "In the middle of the TARDIS medbay? Isn't that a bit... clinical?"
The Doctor's eyes narrowed, and he crossed his arms. "How do you know the name of my ship? How do you name of my species?"
"How do you know my name?" Andrew spat back at him.
The Doctor lifted up his sonic screwdriver, and shot Andrew a glare. "Through this. You know, Andrew... Your DNA is very... different from an average human's."
"Oh, how so?" Andrew challenged him, arms akimbo.
The Doctor cleared his throat, before beginning to explain. "Well, for starters, your DNA has way too much Artron inside it, which should kill you, but for some reason it's not. Infact, the amount of Artron in your blood surpasses the amount even Time Lord's can handle." He raised an eyebrow at Andrew, who huffed.
"So? Why am I here, anyways?"
The Doctor sighed, and rubbed his head. "You're too much of a danger outside. If an alien race were to capture you, the entire universe could be ripped apart."
Suddenly cold, Andrew drew up the courage to ask: "So...?"
"So, you have to stay with me."
Andrew scoffed, before turning away from the Doctor. "As if I'm going to stay here with you."
He suddenly felt two hands grip onto his elbows, and he gulped. "Actually, you have no choice in that matter." The Doctor's voice travelled into his ear, and he shivered. He quickly turned his head, and stared right into the Doctor's brown eyes.
"And how are you going to stop me from leaving?" He asked, his voice dangerously low. This was starting to sound like all of those fanfictions he had read before. It was eerily similar.
The Doctor smiled coldly, sending chills into Andrew's spine. "I guess I'll just have to do something really bad, if you're unwilling to cooperate." Oh fuck.
And then, all of a sudden, the Doctor was happy. He was happy.
"Well then! Since you're stuck here with me, I guess I'll lay a few ground rules." The Doctor smiled at him warmly, before turning around to face the table, writing down something on a piece of paper. What the hell? Was the Doctor bipolar, and they just never showed that in the show?
"Never go into the console room without me there, I mean it. If you go there without me, I will find out. Second rule, no secrets. I want to build trust here." The Doctor winked at him, and Andrew flinched. He wants to build trust when he just basically threatened him? What the hell was his problem?
"Oh, third rule. No running away. Now then! You're free to go anywhere you want in the TARDIS, except for the console room which we established before. So then, anywhere you want to go?" The Doctor smiled at him, and Andrew's mouth felt dry. He was damned if he wasn't going to get away from him. Though, it would require a bit more strategy... Perhaps a place on Earth? In Canada? Wait... First, he had to talk to the Doctor (who was already insane, by the looks of it), about how far he was in his timeline. It would suck if he was close to the Time Lord Victorious.
"So... Would you mind telling me what you were doing before you were found by me?" The Doctor asked Andrew, and he sighed.
"I was on a plane, heading to Paris with a few friends. When suddenly, the entire plane blew up. And then I was falling into the darkness, and I woke up in the alley."
The Doctor was silent for a time, before speaking. "I'm sorry," He said softly.
Andrew clenched his fists. The Doctor probably wasn't sorry. He was most likely just faking sympathy. Like everybody else did.
"You said something earlier about me just being a fictional character in a television show. Care to explain?" The Doctor asked him, a smile playing on his lips.
"It's nothing." Andrew immediately said, regretting it when the Doctor shot him a glare. He already knew what the Doctor would think if he found out about it. He would probably just think Andrew is "Time Sensitive" or psychic. He didn't feel like being called delusional today.
"I mean it. I was just panicking at the time, that's all." He gave the Doctor a small smile, who returned the favour, albeit with a suspicious look in his eyes. Then, the Doctor gasped. He pointed at Andrew, and with a smile he exclaimed: "I know what we should do!"
Andrew sighed. "What?"
"We can go eat dinner! Or lunch! Or breakfast! Or whatever time it was in your universe!" The Doctor waved his hands around erratically, missing Andrew's surprised look.
"How did you know I'm from another universe?" He whispered.
The Doctor smirked at him, holding up his sonic. "This, remember?" Oh, of course. Andrew was going to have to steal that later, when he finally ran away. He would need money, so a sonic would be a great device to have. And then...
Andrew suddenly felt the need to get high, just to clear his head from all the nonsense. Get some escape. He smiled at the Doctor, and faked a yawn.
"You know, I'm kind of tired. I'm going to go to sleep in my room." He closed his eyes a bit, humming.
The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "You slept for about, oh say, two days. How are you tired now?" He asked.
Andrew's head snapped up, and he opened his mouth to explain. "Um... well... Putting someone to sleep the way you did, makes it so they still feel tired when they wake up." He smiled awkwardly, cringing at the silence that followed.
The Doctor, confused for a second, let out an exaggerated "Okayyyy...", and gestured for Andrew to go.
The Doctor knew that Andrew was hiding something. And he was going to find out...
A/N: Hello, everybody! How are you enjoying the fanfiction so far? I'm having lots of fun writing this. And now, the mystery of Andrew and the Old Man begins! What is Andrew, you ask? Who is the Old Man? Hmm... Guess you'll have to find out later. I felt a little disorganized towards the end of writing this chapter, but that's probably just me. I hope. Oh yeah, and one more thing... Don't expect me to be consistent with chapter updating. Sometimes there may be a day between updates, sometimes there may be a month between updates. It all depends, really.