Last time: Mr Question Mark had just been shot by an unknown assassin. As such he can't do this commentary this that we do. And I could just ramble on all day and he wouldn't be able to do anything. I'm not sorry but he will be missed. *sob, sob* Anyway, this is a continuation of this.

Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who

The Beginning: Chapter 3

There was pain. Lots of it. Mr Question Mark had felt pain before. Real pain. Not the pain you get from scraping your knee or tripping over. Real, pain. Painful pain. But it was nothing compared to The Day. The Day was much more worse. Occasionally, he would remember the pain he had faced on The Day and it still haunted him. He had never felt pain like that before. But this was close. He could still feeling it, coursing through his body like the blood in his veins. But that begged the question: was he still conscious? He had just been shot, but on some level, was there a part of his brain that still registered rational thought? Only one way to find out, he thought. Solve his own shooting.

He was hit by a bullet. Obviously but it was a place to start. He vaguely remembered feeling the tip of the bullet before blacking out. So, the bullet was narrow with a long tip. Next, the shot. The window that had shattered was from his left and he tried to remember what he had seen, when looking through the windows; not much, just a couple of buildings. Judging from the bullet, it was probably a professional hit, so the only place where a professional would shoot from where there was a good shot and ability to flee would be a rooftop. Only one specific rooftop stuck out to him. Location: confirmed. Also, no-one would have had time to hire a professional in the short amount of time. Only a select amount of people knew about the meeting and had enough time to organise the hit. Suspects: confirmed. Next, the nature of the shooter. Being able to bring a weapon within 10 kilometres from the Cosmosian palace was impossible, it was too heavily guarded. So it was probably a gun that had to be assembled from smaller pieces. Mind you, he had managed to smuggle a handgun in but that was different entirely. So, cocky and wanting to prove themselves to their employer. This was a guess, but it was likely that the bullet he had been hit with had its own carving to authenticate the shooting as being from the shooter. Shooter: confirmed.

Location: The rooftop of a building approximately 400m from where he was when he was shot.

Suspects: The Family and the 2 guards manning the door.

Shooter: T.C Carrell. AKA Travis Craft Carrell, a known associate of Him. His connection to the shooter meant that the suspect and Him had met at a certain point. The Family would not be related with such a shady figure such as Him so that also narrowed down the suspects.

Case closed

Mr Question Mark opened his eyes and sat up with a jolt. He was lying in a room unfamiliar to him. It was painted white and in front of him was a large wardrobe that looked like it had just been brushed down. There was a small window on the wall to his right. The bed he was in was also white. White sheets, white pillow, white everything. There was an unfamiliar tension across his head, most likely from a bandage to prevent bleeding. He was still dressed in is suit to which he was relieved. To his left…there was a person. She looked about 16 and was sitting in a chair that looked to be a bit close to the bed. Intimate relation with him? He looked at the girl. Pretty face, short blond hair that was too short for a girl and hazel eyes. She stood up in fright and back away. He looked closer at the yes, a sense of familiarity hitting him, though he couldn't remember from where. He got out from the right side of the bed checking himself. Ad anything been removed from him? After finding out that he was the same from when he entered the Cosmosian empire.

"H-How?" stuttered the girl. Mr Question Mark looked at her.

"Guards. When I was shot. Where?" he kept his sentences short to avoid wasting time.

"Where? What?" she countered

Mr Question Mark ran his hands through is hair. "Nononononono. Where! Not what! Is that right? Whowhatwhenwherewhoowwhy. Yes, where." He looked at her for an answer.

"Um. King's chamber's?" she said, it being more of a question than an answer.

"Brilliant"

He ran out of the room and looked left and right down the corridor. He had walked through there before. He was sure of it. He turned around and closed the door, ignoring the look that girl still inside of the room gave him. He stepped back. Yes. It was the room that he stopped to look at when Precia had shown him around. When he had first walked past, he thought he had heard her voice coming from it. Now he knew why. It was because the room was important. Housed him for the time that he was out. So, if this was the room…..

He ran to his right, ignoring the commands to stop from the girl to stop. He went through the mental map he had placed in his head of the palace and followed it to the King's chambers. He skid to a halt and kicked the door open.

"I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaaack!" he cried. "Damn. I've always wanted to say that."

The guards reacted almost instantly. The one to Mr Question Mark's right jabbed the spear towards Mr Question Mark's gut by he stepped back and grabbed the spear with both hands. He pulled it out of the soldier's grasp and pulled it back, hitting the guard's jaw. The guard was flung back from the force of the blow. The other guard reacted the same way. He jabbed with his spear, almost a fraction slower than the other guard, but it was all that he needed. Using the captured spear, Mr Question Mark spun it around and slammed it on the other guard's head. He was flung to the floor and Mr Question Mark leaned against the captured spear.

The fight was over before it had begun.

"That was it?" he asked and dropped the spear before walking up to the podium. The two guards groaned from the fight and slowly sat up, too dazed to think. The stunned girl from the room followed Mr Question Mark into the chambers, stepping over the guards as she did so. Mr Question Mark got a look at the window where Carrell's bullet had gone through as well as the estimated location of the shot. The window had been fixed and the location of the shot was one that was perfect for someone's of Carrell's skills. He looked away from the window to the King and Queen of the Cosmosian Empire. They were both as white as sheets. Mr Question Mark smiled to himself before turning around.

"You might want to get those two." He said, instructing the teenager. "One of them is responsible for my shooting."

"WHAAAAAAAAATTTT!?" she exclaimed. Halma and Matthew had similar results, along the lines of "That's preposterous!" and "How can you say someone so ridiculous?"

Mr Question Mark rolled his eyes and opened his hands in a friendly gesture. "What happened to civilised circumstances?" asked Mr Question Mark, arching an eyebrow.

Matthew flushed with anger at the remark. "Now you see here." He said in a voice that leaked authority.

"NO!" countered Mr Question Mark, his voice loud in the halls and almost just as full of authority as Matthew's. "YOU SEE HERE! I"VE HAD A REALLY TOUGH DAY! I LANDED IN A GRADEN, GOT BEATEN AND THEN WAS SHOT! NOW SIT DOWN YOUR HIGHNESS BEFORE I REAK BOTH YOUR LEGS MAKING SURE THAT SITTING DOWN IS THE ONLY THING YOU EVER DO.

The absolute authority and loudness of is voice made Matthew stumble. No-one had ever spoken to him like that before. No-one.

"Thank you. Since you're not going to co-operate, I'll have to do the job myself." Mr Question Mark stormed past the teenager who looked just as frightened at Mr Question Mark's outburst as her father was as picked up both guards by the hems of their robes. He walked them forward and threw them to the ground in front of the King.

"Now. Let's determine whodunit." Then in a swift motion, Mr Question Mark reached into the back of his pants and pulled out a handgun, a Berretta 92. He didn't even take time to aim. He just fired at the guard who was stationed at the right side of the door. The gunshot echoed in the hall and the guard slumped back, not moving at all. No-one moved at all, the 4 souls still alive, waiting to see who would be next.

"Now." Said Mr Question Mark in a voice too casual for someone who had just committed murder. "You're probably wondering what the hell that was all about. No, it wasn't because of revenge. It was to eliminate one of the suspects. Mr Question Mark, gun still in hand, bent down and lifted the hood of the guard he had just shot. What resembled a human face was wide with shock but what stood out was the hole in the forehead of the man. Which was sparking and releasing short bursts of electricity. The teenager took a step back from the sight.

"An android?!" she shouted. "Philip is an android?!"

Mr Question Mark turned to her and pointed the gun at her. She froze and her heart stopped beating. "Exactly."

"Huh?"

"Exactly. This guard is an android. The way he moved when I came in was to sudden and fast. There's no way a human could react to an alien situation in such a fast response time. Also, when he dragged me to the podium here, there was a faint gleam on the surface of his skin that was akin to sunlight shining on metal." He was waving the gun about in his hand that most of the attention was on it rather than on the speech.

"So, the narrows down the suspects pool to a suspect puddle. Population: one." Mr Question Mark turned and pointed the gun down to the other guard. "So, what happened to your buddy?" Everyone turned to look at the guard on the floor. "Someone had to get his skin from somewhere. And the only people who actually had the chance to access that man's skin was people he trusted. And I think a colleague." Mr Question Mark finger tightened on the trigger. "is someone he would trust greatly." The finger tightened even more but not the whole way.

"P-Paul?" The voice was from the Queen, Halma. "What is he talking about?" the way that her voice was shaking yet she still felt the authority to take control of the situation; Mr Question Mark liked her a lot.

'Paul' shifted at the question but the figure under the hood never left the gun's barrel. "It-It wasn't supposed to be this way." He finally said.

"Seriously?" said Mr Question Mark, displeasure clear in his voice. "That's the story you're going with? It wasn't supposed to be this way? Well, this way you describe resulted in a friend of yours being killed. Do you want me to describe a skinning? One of this perfection?" Mr Question Mark gestured to the body of the android with his free hand. "In order for the skin not to dry up, it has to be done when the person is alive. I imagine that there was a whole lot of screaming. Too much not to be noticed I'd say. So, Paul, how much blood was there on our clothes? How many days did you take off? Where was the body-"

"STOP! FOR GOD'S SAKE, STOP!" yelled Paul in the hall. He stood up and breathed heavily. There was a quiet silence before Paul did anything else. And what he did: was laugh. It was subtle at first but then went into a high-pitched laugh.

I apologised to Philip. I really did. But when you came, I just wanted to please the master so badly. Philip was the sacrifice in order for that to happen. Your death, Mr Question Mark. You don't know how much I celebrated that day. And all of the days after that. And these idiots-" Paul gestured to the Family and the girl "didn't even realise the most obvious thing about you."

"Wh-What's that?" asked the girl.

"OH MY GOD! REALLY!?" Paul took a deep breath, eyes still on the gun barrel. "He doesn't age. How long has it been, since that day? How much time-?

"How long?" asked Mr Question Mark. "What in the world are you talking about?"

Paul's head tilted a bi so it was looking at Mr Question Mark. Probably. It was hard to tell with the hood on. He chuckled.

"Well, well, well. The great Mr Question Mark doesn't know, Well, let me inform you. It's been 9 years to the day since you were shot.

Mr Question Mark stared at Paul. 9 years. A comatose state for 9 years? He hadn't really noticed since the King and Queen were prevented from ageing after their only child heir was born, so it was to be expected. But that meant….

His mind went back to the small girl, he had seen not minutes ago, but in reality in was 9 years. 9 whole years. The girl had looked around 6 or 7 and add 9 years….

She'd be 15 or 16. With hazel eyes and blond hair. Just like the girl who has right behind him.

He kept his gaze on Paul and didn't say anything. The silence lingered until Mr Question Mark had the courage to say something, but not to the girl. To Paul. "After all, these years, I've been lying in a bed and you did nothing?"

Pal made a sound underneath his hood. "Didn't have to. He assured me that you wouldn't wake up. He was wrong. You're standing in front of me now. So I have the obligation to screw him over as well. His name is-"

Mr Question Mark's eyes went wide at the word name and he flung himself onto the ground, tackling the girl behind him as he did so. It was the second time that someone had been shot in the Royal Hall, but this time, the man actually died. His head disappeared in a mess of red all of it flying forward. Bits of it flew onto Mr Question Mark's blazer but he didn't notice. As soon as he had tackled the girl, he spun around to see the head explode. He observed, as the body fell and the Queen screamed, that most of the damage was on the front side of the face. That meant that the bullet had come from the same said that it had, 9 years ago. It was a gamble, but if Mr Question Mark was right, he could take down of His top guns. He ran to the same window to find it shattered, again and he saw the shape of a man on the building of the other side, 400 metres away. Carrell. Still holding the gun, he aimed, gripped the gun with both of his hands and fired the gun.

The shot echoed in the hall and all eyes were drawn from what was left of Paul the door guard to Mr Question Mark, the kid wearing a suit. He was unsure if Carrell had known that he was coming, but if he did, he made no note of it. The bullet ailed through the air and the only confirmation Mr Question Mark had that it hit its target as the fact that one moment Carrell was there and the next, he had disappeared in a mess of red and grey.

Mr Question Mark lowered the gun and put it back in its rightful place, underneath his shirt and at the back of his trousers. He was breathing heavily. In a few moments, he had just let two men die, one by his own hand. He had always realised that once you pledged allegiance to Him there was no going back. But still. He was sure that the Doctor would be ashamed of him. Hell, he felt ashamed of himself. He turned to look at the boy of the former door guard, ignoring the open jaws of the onlookers. His limp form was one of many that Mr Question Mark had seen, put there himself or caused. It disgusted him. He averted his gaze from the body to see Halma and Matthew looking at him with a look that he had seen many times, one of both fear and uncertainty. He turned to the teenager whom he had first seen when he had woken up. It didn't take him long to guess who it was.

Precia's face looked at him with a hollow expression. There was no life in it, nor was there judgement. Just hollowness, the events still catching up to her. They would. And he would rather not be there when they did.

"I'm sorry." Was all he said then he turned his back and walked to the door.

I'm glad that I survived. Aren't you?

P-Please let go of my hand. I need it to type your stories.

Oh, I'm sorry. I mean you don't need me for this commentary. And there's also the fact that you typed these up around 6 months ago so you have no idea what happens aye?

th-That's not ENTIRELY true.

*the next scene was censored because if it was shown, it would be an M fanfiction, whch it isn't. It is T,

OKOKOKOK. I'm sorry. But I know who lives and dies and stuff. Besides, you came out OK.

*Censored*

Review if you please.

M-Mercy...