The Doctor and the TARDIS. Unbelievable. Screw the Daleks, this was beyond my wildest dreams. The mad man and his box actually existed? How could this be happening? I wasn't even sure how to react—a crazy, impulsive part of me wished I could've just climbed into the TARDIS with him, thrown all caution to the wind. Then the rational part of me took into account my pounding heartbeat and my shaking hands, and I knew I could never deal with this insanity day in and day out.
But the Doctor—oh, he was the Doctor, and I had let him leave!
The smell of smoke hit me again and I registered the crackling of flames and the sound of sirens once more, and I remembered just what situation I had been left in the middle of. Save the multiverse? Just who did he think I was?
A minute beeping sound that had been growing louder and louder broke me out of my reverie. For a moment a jolt of panic hit me and I wondered if a Dalek had somehow found me, but then I realized that the beeping was accompanied by the sound of footsteps. I looked up just in time to see the individual passing me—he seemed distracted by some strange device, the source of the beeping. The moment he passed me, however, he drew to an abrupt halt.
Hold on.
I wasn't sure if my poor heart could take any more surprises today, but after catching that glimpse I couldn't stop myself from whipping around.
The man whipped around at the same time and then we were facing each other completely, and Jesus Christ it was David Tennant—no. It was the Doctor. Again. First time for him, second for me… oh man, this was going to get confusing.
It can't be me. Not this me, anyway.
Of course. That was what he had meant. The Doctor—Eleven—had just risked a hell of a lot by jumping in the middle of his own timeline. No wonder the TARDIS had been so eager to go.
Ten was staring at me in complete bewilderment, his brows drawn together comically and his lips parted just a bit.
I suddenly felt very self-conscious and awkward standing here in this getup; the suit felt silly when I was standing right in front of the real thing. Reaching up, I plucked off my fake glasses at the very same time the Doctor squinted at me and put on his own.
"Well, this explains quite a bit," he finally remarked absently.
"Huh?" I blinked, taken aback.
"You've had a run-in with those Daleks, haven't you? Got them all wound up. Now I see what they mean, looking for two of me."
He waved his sonic screwdriver at me for a moment and then paused to stare at the readings. I kept my mouth shut, thinking about the real second Doctor that had been lurking until just a minute ago.
With a flick of the wrist, he flipped the screwdriver in his hand and returned it to his pocket. Then he met my gaze.
"Infinite number of universes, but only one race of Time Lords. How exactly do you know of me?"
"It's… a TV show," I replied slowly, brow furrowed. "It's called Doctor Who."
That bewildered look again. "A show on the telly? Really?"
I pulled out my replica sonic, attempting to deftly flip it in my hand the way he had, and instead ended up hot-potatoing it for a few seconds before finally catching it upside down.
"…Really," I confirmed, trying to pretend I meant to do that.
He wasn't watching me anymore—instead now he seemed very distracted by my screwdriver. The Time Lord snatched it out of my hand, staring at the bottom of it.
"'Made in China,'" he read the tiny sticker on the bottom. "Lovely. Now I've seen everything."
A loud rumble came from behind me and I looked over my shoulder to see the forest fire intensify, a plume of black smoke wafting into the starless night. It was a terrible reminder of the chaos ensuing while we stood here practically in the eye of the storm.
The Doctor seemed to jerk back to reality as well. He returned the screwdriver to me, looking past me the entire time.
"Ah. Daleks. S'pose it can wait," he murmured distractedly. Then he looked down at me, seeming to perk up, his dark eyes filling with a stubborn determination.
"Right, yes—hello, I'm the Doctor, rather nonfiction, I'm afraid. And you are?"
"Brittany. Brittany Furness," I replied, and I couldn't stop a wry smile from forming at how similar his introduction was to the one I'd just received from his future self.
"Furness! An English name; I knew I liked you." The Doctor grinned. "Brilliant costume—oh, you even found my swirly tie, I love my swirly tie." He sobered. "Unfortunately, you picked a very bad day to dress like me. The Daleks are hunting for you—you'll be in danger everywhere except on my ship, and the TARDIS is out of range at the moment."
"Oh, good," I said. My tone was dry, but his words had shaken me. "Guess I'm sticking with you, then."
"Which would put you in even worse danger," the Doctor pointed out, raising his eyebrows. "But I do need an extra hand, and considering you're already dressed like a target…"
Worse danger? That was debatable. The Doctor would plunge right into the fray, sure, but at least he stood a chance of defending himself and the people with him—if I got stuck with a Dalek one-on-one, I was dead for sure.
My mouth was dry. I thought of Matt, Sarah and Ryan, who I had lost in the woods while running for my life. I thought of all the people at that party, everyone who was still unaccounted for. Everyone had been drinking, some of them excessively… how had they fared in the escape?
"Doctor, I'm here to help," I told him. The private joke would've almost been funny in less life-threatening circumstances. "What's the plan?"
The Time Lord grinned again, which was probably the most alarming thing; it was then that I remembered he never made plans, and I began to wonder just what I was getting myself into.
"Let's head back on over to that crater, shall we?"
Sarah's front lawn was just as I had left it, though the Daleks were absent; I nervously wondered where they could be as we approached. Wreaking havoc on the city? How many people had died?
The entire area was cordoned off with yellow police tape and there were cruisers everywhere. There was a man in a lab coat down by the ship who seemed to be taking samples, and at least five officers were walking around the area and investigating. It was somewhere we were clearly not allowed to be, but the Doctor strode in with confidence and I followed.
"Sir, this is a restricted zone," an officer called, approaching. "Are you authorized to be—"
"Yes, actually," the Doctor replied, holding open a leather wallet. I realized his psychic paper was displayed within, and looked between the officer and the Time Lord, blinking.
The officer visibly cringed. "Oh—so sorry, sir. Please, we could use your help. But who is…?" He was looking a bit bemused at my costume.
"My assistant," the Doctor replied. "Terrible taste in jokes, I know. Well, carry on, then, don't mind us."
"Y…Yes, sir." The man moved on to continue with his work, though he was clearly puzzled.
I did my best to ignore the 'terrible taste' jab, though I couldn't resist sending the Time Lord a look; he just sent a shamelessly amused look right back at me and went on with what he was doing. We had approached the crater and he took his sonic out of his coat pocket, inspecting the scene.
"It's not a Dalek ship, is it?" I asked, remembering that their ships looked much more like cliché UFOs—this was much more like a weird metallic rock than anything else.
"No," the Doctor replied, pulling out a pair of 3D glasses and putting them on. "It's an escape pod. Just large enough to hold a few, but a few is all it takes… escaped from the void through a crack in the walls of the universe. They were searching for my Earth, and found yours."
"And that's how you got here, too?"
"Yes," he said quietly. "And with every trip, a bit of reality chips away. The Daleks don't belong here—this has to be set right before it's too late."
I pondered that for a moment, trying to swallow it. A crack in the walls of the universe. The void… the multiverse. Somewhere out there was the Doctor's universe, and there were millions—no, billions of other universes out there. It was real, all of it was real.
"Brittany!"
I looked up at the sudden voice, only to see a very familiar blonde struggling to run towards me. Sarah had to break away from the EMTs, shrugging off her shock blanket in order to get over to where we were standing.
"Sarah!" I ran forward and caught her in a tight hug, feeling relief rush through me. She was alive… thank goodness.
"Are you all right?" I asked her, but my question went unheard. She was staring over my shoulder with wide eyes.
"Oh my god…" She murmured. "You… You're…"
"Yes," the Doctor replied, approaching.
"It's really you…" She paused for a moment, just staring; then she jerked herself out of it, her eyes growing bright with barely suppressed tears. "You have to help us, Doctor. They killed Rochelle, they just shot her down in the street! Please stop them!"
Hearing that name was like a punch to the gut.
"Rochelle is dead…?" I whispered. We hadn't been more than acquaintances, but the knowledge that I was never going to see her again—it didn't seem real. She and Matt had been friends since childhood. How was I going to tell him?
The Doctor's eyes darkened; I could see the fury in them, and the sheer depth to it was frightening.
"I promise you, I will stop them," he replied. "Sarah. Stay safe."
"Wait," she said as we turned to leave, grabbing my arm. "Wait, you're going with him?"
"You saw what happened back there," I said, looking back at her and trying to conceal my own fear and doubts. "They'll be after me no matter where I'm at."
"I can't stop you." She bit her lip, shaking. "Just—don't you die. This isn't a TV show, it's ugly—it's war!"
"It's not like I'm not scared," I whispered to her, my voice trembling. "But what else am I supposed to do?"
"I know," she replied. Then she clenched her jaw, seeming to come to a decision, and gently pushed me backwards. "Well, go. You're dressed for the part… so if you want to go, go!"
"Sarah…" I murmured, but she was already walking back in the direction of the ambulance, where the EMTs were waiting.
"Ready?" the Doctor piped up.
"…Yeah," I said.
He held out a hand; I stared at it dubiously for a moment before grabbing it, trying to hide the fact that the very offer was exhilarating. I'm the Doctor. Take my hand and run.
Only we didn't run. He pulled me to the edge of the crater and we slid down, down to the center of it, approaching the empty Dalek pod. It was still smoking slightly from when I had used the eleventh Doctor's sonic. I thought that it was completely dead and useless, but the moment the Doctor touched it, a small light appeared on the inside.
"It's still functioning…?" I murmured.
The Doctor shook his head, clenching his jaw. "Time energy… it's responding to me." He quickly turned, gripping my shoulders tightly and giving me a very serious look. "I need you to do something for me. The Daleks are coming—there's nothing we can do to stop it. I can't defeat them without the right weapon, without my ship, and this pod is emitting a frequency that's keeping the TARDIS out of sync."
"What do you need me to do?" I asked.
"Stay here," he told me, and then he pushed his sonic screwdriver into my hands. "Hold this button. Reverse the polarity, disable the frequency—it's going to take a while at this rate, only setting sixty-five seems to work. I'll distract them!"
"You—you'll die!"
"There's a weapon in the TARDIS that will work," the Doctor said. "She'll lead you to it, if you manage to lead her to us. Don't worry about me. There's no other way."
"What if I play the decoy?" I blurted out. "You could probably—"
"No," he said firmly, his gaze growing steely—and that was the end of that. I was silently grateful, but a bit ashamed; I didn't really want to risk my life.
…But at the same time, the thought of the Doctor out there dancing around trying to avoid Dalek attacks terrified me, too. He was good at getting out of desperate situations but he wasn't invincible, either. Maybe we'd survive if he sacrificed himself and I managed to call the TARDIS, but how could I live with that outcome?!
Then something came to me, clicking into place in my head.
It's going to take a while at this rate, only setting sixty-five seems to work.
"Eighty-seven," I said, eyes wide.
"What?" The Doctor stared at me in confusion.
I turned to him, pushing the sonic back into his hands. "Eighty-seven. Try that setting."
"THE DOCTOR HAS FALLEN INTO OUR TRAP."
"THE DOCTOR – CANNOT – ESCAAAPE!"
"They're here," the Time Lord murmured, looking over to the edge of the crater.
"Doctor," I said desperately.
He shook his head, wrinkling his nose. "Eighty-seven, it's not that simple! There's eighty-seven A, eighty-seven B, all the way to Z, then we get into the decimals, now that is an entirely different story—"
"Doctor!"
Suddenly he faltered. "Wait. Wait. That setting, it could work if we had something to use as a stabilizer…"
I pulled out my own screwdriver, pressing the button to activate it.
Oh, no worries, I did make some modifications to yours.
The Doctor's eyes widened and he offered me a surprised little smile. "Oh, yes. Now where did it learn to do that?"
"Things didn't exactly happen in order," I said vaguely. "…No time to explain, right?"
"No time indeed," he replied, and the look in his eyes told me that he was very used to this sort of thing happening. He grinned, holding up his own screwdriver. "Setting eighty-seven. Oh, brilliant."
I tossed the cheap screwdriver in my hand, holding it up and silently singing praises to the eleventh Doctor for somehow saving our asses. The Daleks were closing in, looking down at us from the edge of the crater. As the Doctor held up his own screwdriver the light inside the pod shorted out, and suddenly I heard the sound of the time rotor.
The world around us was fading. I saw blue everywhere, I felt a comforting warmth, and then that rushing, wheezing sound was all I could hear. We were inside the TARDIS.
"Atta girl!" The Doctor yelled, grinning fiercely. "Now let's send 'em back to where they came from! All right, force it open!"
He had grabbed hold of the main console and as a reflex, I did so as well. Suddenly I could feel it, a wind sucking everything up in its path coming from somewhere outside the TARDIS—the sound of the Daleks protesting made what was happening twice as obvious.
The Doctor was nearly being torn from his spot, but he held on fast. I didn't feel a thing; while his feet had left the floor and he was hanging on for dear life, I was standing relaxed right next to him, clutching the console lightly.
Void stuff. I hadn't crossed the void and the rest of them had. One benefit to not being a traveler of time and space.
After a good five minutes of this—a good portion of which I spent holding the Doctor's hands, fighting to help him keep his grip—the frightening feeling stopped and the TARDIS stilled.
The Doctor fell to the floor of the ship, breathing heavily. I ran over to help him up, staring warily in the direction of the door, just waiting for a Dalek to cross through.
There was nothing.
"Are they gone?" I whispered.
"See for yourself," the Doctor prompted, nodding encouragingly towards the door.
I walked outside slowly, staring around with surprise. The wind had felt so strong and yet I had been unaffected; at the same time, everything out here seemed virtually unchanged, but the Daleks were nowhere to be seen. All I could see was the crowd of police officers and medical professionals, all staring in shock up at a specific spot in the sky. I looked up and attempted to see what they were seeing… but there was nothing. Nothing but endless stars and the dying flames beneath them.
But—no. There. A hairline fracture. A barely noticeable white line cutting through the night sky. Was I seeing things?
"Closed, but not sealed off," the Doctor murmured next to me. "Oh no, it's not over yet."
"What do you mean?" I turned to look at him, eyes narrowing a bit.
"Too much interference between worlds," the Doctor replied. "The walls between universes have grown fragile. In normal circumstances, you and I should never have met. But we have… and from here on out I'll have to tread very carefully."
"Don't worry," he continued, meeting my gaze. "Earth is protected, in every universe. I'll see to that."
He was turning away. My heart skipped a beat; he was turning away and I wasn't ready for him to leave. He had barely answered any of my questions and I had literally just met him and how could he just leave, whisk in and out of our lives like that and leave a trail of death and destruction in his wake?
Part of me wanted to yell at him. He was the Doctor—but everywhere he chose to go, there was suffering. He was righting the wrongs here, but he at least owed a more thorough explanation. Rochelle was dead and I wanted to know more about what was going on and what we could do about it, and it wasn't fair.
"Doctor," I said, stepping forward.
He must have recognized the look in my eyes. His expression grew stony, but I could see a great deal of sorrow beneath it.
"No. I'm sorry, but no. I travel alone. I—too many of my companions… I've lost them. Never again."
He had seen the question I was going to ask before I even knew I wanted to ask it. The answer was like a punch to the gut; I deflated immediately.
"Okay," I said, biting my lip. I wanted to argue, but I just couldn't bring myself to. "I'll trust you to the rest. But if you need any help—"
That infectious grin of his returned, and for a moment I could almost forget about that cold, lonely look in his eyes.
"You'll be the first I ask," he said. "Brittany Furness. Wear that costume next year, will you? You remind me of someone I know, someone with dashing good looks."
"Oh, don't go and ruin the moment," I replied, finding myself giving a teary grin in return.
We said our farewells over the sound of the TARDIS departing. I realized with some regret that I had been in such a hurry that I hadn't gotten a good chance to look inside the ship, to even marvel over the size difference from the inside to the outside. Now it was too late—I would always wonder.
I stood there next to a crater in my friend's front lawn, clutching a fake sonic screwdriver, staring at a night sky that suddenly seemed much more vast than before.
There's no time! Find me, defeat the Daleks, save the multiverse!
The memory jerked me out of my reverie. That voice, that face, that fond smile, like he knew me better than he was letting on… no. The Doctor had been right—it wasn't over yet.
Not by a long shot.
A/N: Rushed? Oh, probably, because I intended this to be a two-shot and as usual it was trying to morph into something a hell of a lot longer so I had to cut it short to shut my stupid brain up. I MEAN LOOK AT THAT ENDING. IT'S NOT EVEN AN ENDING IT'S LIKE "YEAH THERE'S MORE SOMEDAY."
Maybe someday I'll actually manage to pull together a Doctor Who longfic that contains all of my feels about the show and is completely satisfying to write instead of me just sobbing at a computer screen until words appear. Until that day... I HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS LITTLE HALLOWEEN THING.
