Notes: This chapter's going to be a two-parter, mostly because I didn't want this chapter to go on forever, and partly because I still don't know where I'm going to take it. To be honest, I still don't even know where they are at. It's an as-of-now unnamed planet is all I'm saying.
Warning: Angst. Especially Ten/Rose angst. I'm sorry, so, so sorry.
Chapter Four
Nightmares
When the concert was over the Doctor ushered his companions back into the TARDIS.
"So, what did you think?" he asked, leaning against one of the coral struts that lined the console room.
"That was really cool," Phil said.
Joe amended, "Well, the Woodstock part was great. Weeping Angels? Not so much."
Sav nodded agreement. "That was terrifying. I think I was more scared of the Angels than I was of the Vashta Nerada."
Steve, at the mention of the Vashta Nerada, nervously looked down and began counting the shadows.
"No, don't do that," the Doctor told him. "Really, don't. They can't get inside the TARDIS. She wouldn't allow it. Besides, the entire hordes of Ghangus Kong couldn't get through those doors. They've tried, believe me."
"Oookay," Rick said slowly.
Joe suddenly broke into a broad grin. When the others looked at him askance he said, "I can't believe we actually performed at Woodstock. Everyone back home's going to be wondering how we were there."
The Doctor shrugged. "Wibbly-wobbly—"
"Timey-whimey," the band finished.
"How—"
"When you've been in a group for as long as we have," Joe explained, "we start finishing each other's sentences."
The Time Lord studied the band, brown eyes unreadable. "You really are like a family, aren't you?"
"Yeah. What about you?" Rick asked.
The Doctor looked down, suddenly very interested in his shoes. "They're all gone now. Last of the Time Lords, remember?"
"We know," Sav said. "But what were they like?"
The Doctor looked up from his shoes. "I used to be a father, a grandfather, a long time ago. When they died that part of me died with them. As for what the Time Lords were like . . . they were mostly stuffy, pompous, pacifist gits. I was what you'd call a teenage rebel." A corner of his mouth hitched up in a half-smile. "I stole a TARDIS—this TARDIS—and ran. I haven't stopped running since. And I've had so many different faces, so many different personalities . . ."
"You lost us, Doctor," Sav said.
"Never mind. It's not important." The Doctor shoved off the coral strut and ambled over to the console. "You've been to the past, the future, now how about another planet?" That excited come-on-you-know-you-want-to look was back on his face as he swept his gaze over the band.
"Yeah," Joe said. "Sure. Why not?"
"Right, hang on, then!" The Doctor entered some coordinates and yanked down the lever. All six of them were thrown off their feet as the TARDIS shook violently. Joe tangled with Sav; Steve, with Phil; the Doctor landed on the jumpseat; and Rick fell back against one of the coral struts, hitting his head.
Poor Rick. That must have hurt, given the rate he'd fallen at—not good.
"Hey, Doctor," Sav said from underneath Joe, "d'you think you could work on your driving skills? And Joe?"
"Hhmm?"
"You can get off me now."
"Why? You like it."
"Joe!" Sav sounded horrified, scandalized, and the Doctor couldn't blame him. He vividly remembered that time on New Earth when Cassandra—the last human, or so she called herself, reduced to a flap of skin—had possessed him after he'd ordered her to leave Rose Tyler's (his companion before Martha) body. Even now, years later, he still remembered those words hissing from his mouth: "Slim, and a little bit foxy. You thought so, too. I've been inside your head. You've been looking. You like it." The Doctor shuddered at the memory. Possession was not something he wanted to go through with again.
In any case, Joe rolled off Sav and helped the bassist up. To the Time Lord, it didn't look like Phil and Steve were in any such hurry to regain their feet. Clearing his throat, he asked Joe, "So, are you two . . .?"
"No," the singer said quickly. "We're just mates—best friends."
"Friends with benefits?"
Sav flushed and ducked his head, though the Doctor caught sight of a small smile. Joe shook his head, looking almost . . . not desperate, more like trapped. "It's not like that. I mean . . ."
"Relax," the Doctor said, laughter gleaming in his dark eyes. "There's a man I know—Captain Jack Harkness—that will shag anything that moves. He's omnisexual—male, female, human, alien. You name it he's probably shagged it—except a Dalek. I don't think you can be . . . intimate with a Dalek. Or a Slitheen. Or a Weeping Angel. Or a Racnoss—now that is one big spider."
At the mention of spiders, Sav's head snapped up, face pale, blue eyes wide. "Did you say 'spider'?"
"Yeah." The Doctor frowned when he took in Sav's nervous expression. "What's wrong with you?"
"He has arachnophobia," Joe explained, "so let's avoid this Racnoss thing, yeah?"
"Don't worry about 'em. They'll remain dormant in the Earth's core for about another, oh, seventeen years."
Sav gulped.
"Oh, relax. There aren't any spiders on the TARDIS, all right? 'Sides, I'm not taking ya back to Earth just yet."
"Where are you taking us, then?" Phil asked. (He and Steve were finally back on their feet. Rick was, too, but he was looking a bit dazed and confused. The Doctor made a note to scan him with the sonic screwdriver.)
"Well, Skaro and Arcadia are out of the question—they're behind a Time Lock—and Gallifrey is gone. Mars is overrated; Midnight is lethal; Krop Tor is destroyed, there's a very long story behind that impossible planet, trust me; and Raxacoricofallapatorius and Clom would be suicidal for me. And somehow, I don't think you'd be impressed by New Earth."
"New Earth?" Steve said. "What happened to Earth?"
"Well, year five billion the sun expands and the Earth gets roasted. For all the humans out in space there's a big nostalgic revival movement, and they find that planet. Same atmosphere, same size, same orbit. So they settle in. The main city is New New York."
"You're kidding," the Lepps said.
"Nope," the Doctor said, popping the 'p.' "Well, technically it's the fifteenth since the original, so it would be New New New New New New New New New New New New New New New New York."
"Wow," Rick said, taking a few steps forward. Then he swayed a little and his bandmates immediately moved to catch him. The Doctor took out his sonic screwdriver, aimed it Rick's head, and looked over the readings. "Well, there's no concussion. You'll have a nasty bump, but some ice should bring the swelling down. Kitchen's down that hallway, two rights. It's on the left side." At the Leppards' amazed looks, he added, "What? Surely you didn't think this was the only room in the TARDIS. Just let me know if you find the swimming pool. She's moved it around and now I have no idea where it is."
To their credit, the Lepps seemed to take this in their stride. Hardly surprising, given the fact they had seen some odd things in both their time as a rock band and traveling with him. The Doctor found that he actually liked this group—and not just because of the music. They were fascinating people as well.
He flipped another switch, activating the TARDIS' sound system, and "Bringin' on the Heartbreak" played softly throughout the room: "Gypsy, sittin' lookin' pretty, a broken rose with laughin' eyes. Oh, you're such a mystery, always running wild like a child without a home . . ." His eyes closed, hearts constricting. How long had it been since he'd thought about Rose? And he'd wasted so many chances; instead, he'd left her with his human meta-crisis. Now that his song was ending . . .
"Your song must end soon. The universe will sing you to your sleep, Doctor," Ood Sigma's voice said in his head.
I don't wanna go, he thought.
The voice changed; now it belonged to Carmen, a woman he'd met during Easter holiday. "You be careful. Because your song is ending, sir. . . . It is returning. It is returning through the dark. And then, Doctor— Oh, but then . . . He will knock four times."
Oh, shut up. The Doctor's eyes snapped open, blazing with ice and fire and rage.
"Doctor?"
Sav's voice had him hastily switching off the sound system. Struggling to control himself—it wouldn't do to let his companions see the Oncoming Storm, his other side, his darker side, so soon in their travels—the Doctor slowly turned to see the bushy-haired brunette bass player standing in the doorway to the console room. "Yes, Sav?"
"Where exactly are you taking us? And, please, don't babble on. It's annoying after a while. Besides, I get enough of that from Joe. During interviews the rest of us barely get a word in edgewise."
"I'd noticed," the Doctor muttered.
"What was that?"
"Nothing! Where are the others?"
"Busy exploring. Hope you don't mind."
"Not at all."
"You still haven't answered my original question, Doctor."
"You never gave me a chance. And I set the coordinates to random. We could end up anywhere. More fun that way, I think. Well, Barcelona has dogs with no noses. I took Rose there once, ages ago."
"Isn't Barcelona a city in Spain?"
"I'm talking about the planet. Noseless dogs! Isn't that brilliant?"
Sav blinked. "Um, okay. I'll take your word for it."
"Good. Now hold on." A wild light shone in the Doctor's eyes.
"Why?"
He grinned savagely. "We're going to rip right through the Vortex. Live a little, Sav. It's good for you."
The bassist swallowed. "Doctor, stop it. You're scaring me. No, scratch that. You're mad."
The Doctor's grin widened. "Oh, yes! Absolutely. Didn't anyone ever tell you not to tangle with a madman in a box?"
Sav said nothing, just lifted his shoulders in a shrug.
"Oi, Sav!" Joe's voice called suddenly, causing both bassist and Time Lord to jump. "Where are you?"
"Console room," Sav replied, not taking his eyes off the Doctor. Said Time Lord was busy at the controls, and Sav was relieved to see that he'd mellowed out a bit.
One minute later, the rest of the band was back in the console room. (The TARDIS constantly moved rooms around for easier access—or whenever she felt like it.) Rick had a bag of ice pressed against the back of his head; the other three looked both excited and amazed.
"Just how big is this place, Doctor?" Steve asked.
He shrugged. "I don't really know myself, and I've lived in her for centuries. Now, are you ready?" He engaged the landing with a flourish and turned to the band, his cheerful mask back in place. "Who wants to go first? New planet, new ground beneath your feet. Never gets old."
The Terror Twins started for the door, but Joe and Sav swiftly intercepted them. Instantly a wrestling match ensued, each trying to stop the other from reaching the door.
"You two went first on the space station!" Joe protested. "It's our turn!"
"Tough," Phil spat, struggling to kick the singer off him.
While the four of them were busy, Rick and the Doctor exchanged glances, smiled, and slipped quietly around the squabbling bandmates and down the ramp to exit the TARDIS. After a few more seconds, the Doctor stuck his head back inside his timeship: "Are you going to fight all day, or are you going to come out here and join us?"
Instantly they stopped and looked over at the Doctor, who waved a hand. "Hullo."
It wasn't long before the TARDIS was empty. As soon as the doors closed, all six time travelers took a moment to look around them.
They were standing in a clearing with tall, blue-green grass ringed by silver-barked trees with dark blue leaves. The sky was almost the same shade of blue as back home, but upon closer inspection there was a slight violet tint.
"Where are we, Doctor?" Joe asked.
"I don't know. I've never been here before. Whole new planet to explore. Isn't that brilliant?" He was smiling and rocking back and forth on his heels as he said this. "C'mon, let's explore." Already he was walking off in direction of the trees. The Lepps quickly caught up. Rick quipped, "Well, we're not in Kansas."
His bandmates rolled their eyes but smiled in amusement anyway. The Doctor muttered, "It's amazing how old that joke gets so fast."
"Sorry."
"No you're not."
"Yeah. I'm not."
They kept walking, made it past the treeline, and Steve suddenly froze. The white-blonde guitarist asked, "Did you hear that?"
"Hear what?" Phil asked, eyes scanning the area.
"Sshh." The Doctor held up a finger, looked around. "Listen."
Low growls could be heard, along with the crackling of undergrowth as whatever was stalking them crept closer. There was definitely more than one creature, and it sounded like they were about the size of a wolf or another large dog.
Red eyes gleamed from the suddenly-dark forest, and now the Time Lord and his companions could see that yes, these were wolves. Wolves with pitch-black fur, red eyes, and very impressive teeth.
They were also very, very big, about ten or twelve hands high at the withers.
The Doctor muttered a curse in Gallifreyan, while Joe whispered a few choice swear words.
"Bloody hell," murmured Sav, blue eyes wide. Rick, Phil, and Steve were speechless, though the Doctor—and the wolves—could smell their fear. (As a Time Lord, his senses were superior to a human's. He'd never really determined just how much, and right now really wasn't a great opportunity.)
The Doctor tried forcing his legs to move, but he couldn't send the signals to his muscles. He was frozen in horror, paralyzed, and so was the band.
Drool dripping from bared fangs, pink tongues swiping across muzzles, the pack closed in.