oOoOo
Royal Palace Gardens, Paris, 1765
"I'll wipe that swine off the face of the universe!"
He knew the universe was much too complex to have a face, but that wouldn't stop him from trying.
Ace struggled to keep up as the Doctor marched furiously across the park, which seemed to be taunting him with its overly cheerful atmosphere. "But Professor…"
"For the last time, I am NOT the Professor! I may have been –once upon a time – but not anymore. The Professor was light-hearted; he juggled and played the spoons; he was the eccentric little man who made you laugh. That man is dead, Ace. Forget about him. I've moved on." He refused to look her in the eye, but Ace was sure she saw a twinge of sadness there. She knew however, that it would take a million tears to put out the murderous fire that raged inside him – a million tears he wasn't going to shed.
"Doctor, this isn't what we do! You're always telling me we need to fight for the greater good! We can't murder your…"
"Greater good? No force of good executes his friends without batting an eyelid…" His knuckles were white where he was gripping his umbrella with crushing force.
"Give it a break, Doctor. I watched you destroy a whole planet!"
"I had my reasons."
"And he didn't?"
"I could have regenerated! I destroyed her only life because I was too egotistical and selfish to welcome change."
By now the sky had darkened to mimic the tempest in the Doctor's eyes, and the clouds were crying for him. He didn't put up his umbrella, but instead allowed the rain to collect in the brim of his drooping hat.
"What do we do now, then?"
"We go back to the TARDIS and hunt him down."
"But we can't do that, Doctor," Ace replied, secretly hoping he'd at least offer her his umbrella. "We came here in the future TARDIS. Yours is still in Area Z."
The Doctor hissed through grated teeth. He was about to say something, when a shrill cry emerged from the nearby tangle of trees.
"Doctor!"
"Amy?" He turned to face the source of the noise and saw the redhead staring back at him through the bushes. He watched her stumble and collapse, disappearing into the undergrowth.
"AMY!"
He charged through the trees towards her, swatting away meddlesome leaves and branches with his umbrella. He ground to a halt at the spot where she had fallen.
She was gone.
"Hallucination?" asked Ace.
"It seems my conscience is already punishing me." The Doctor was practically seething with rage as he made his way back to open ground. He looked up at the angry sky and outstretched his arms, clasping his umbrella like a spear. Raindrops buffeted his face and stung his eyes as his voice thundered beyond and above the city. "DOCTOR! I KNOW WHAT YOU'VE DONE AND I KNOW YOU CAN HEAR ME!" He pounded his chest with his free fist to emphasise every syllable…
"FACE ME!"
oOoOo
Amy's head was spinning as she awoke. Where was she? She couldn't tell when her entire surroundings were spiralling in wild circles. She closed her eyes in an attempt to regain her sense of awareness.
Her nose twitched contentedly at the smells of freshly cut grass and home-baked bread. They hit her nostrils in a powerful nostalgic blend that reminded her of picnics in the garden with her aunt as a child.
She opened her eyes and took in the world around her. She was sitting slumped against a tree on the edge of what appeared to be a landscaped garden. On the opposite side was a bustling high street jam-packed with people from almost every walk of life: women dressed in rags reprimanding their children; husbands and wives conversing good-naturedly as they strolled past; pretentious-looking gentlemen helping ladies dressed like wedding cakes into carriages. She had never been particularly good at history at school (save for a commendable project on Roman Britain) but she made the assumption that this was the 17th or 18th century. She scoffed at their powdered wigs and hoped the Doctor didn't get any ideas.
On that point, where was the Doctor?
Feeling exposed and skimpily dressed under the turned-up noses of passers-by as well as the malevolent-looking rainclouds, Amy turned round and stumbled through the wall of trees which separated the serenity of the landscape garden from the hurried world outside. She made a mental note of what she needed to do:
1) Work out where she was.
2) Change into something not so blindingly conspicuous (and preferably waterproof).
3) Find the Doctor.
On second thoughts, that third point should be her priority.
"Doctor?"
She ambled through the undergrowth, searching for a clearing. At least he might be able to find her there.
"Doctor?!" She yawned slightly.
She could hear birds tweeting contentedly in the treetops. She smiled and walked on…
Hang on a second. She knew that noise…
The sinister chirruping intensified to a near-deafening volume. Amy clasped her hands to her ears and soldiered on. She needed to find the Doctor.
"Doctor!"
"Amy?"
Upon hearing her name, Amy looked up and saw the Doctor with Ace in the clearing (not her Doctor, but the Doctor nonetheless) looking like he had seen a ghost. Her hands fell limply to her side and her knees trembled.
And then the world went black…
oOoOo
The TARDIS, Unknown Temporal Location
"Psychic pollen!"
"Eh?"
"The yellow gas in the control room – it's psychic pollen!" Ace couldn't tell if the Doctor was nervous or excited as he twirled past her, wielding his sonic device. He reminded her of the Professor back when he wasn't the puppeteer of the universe.
"Oh yeah? And what's that when it's at home?"
"It's a parasitic life form from the Candle Meadows of Karass Don Slava. It sends people to sleep and feeds off the darkness in their minds. Didn't try to choke me last time, though. It's at an abnormally high concentration…"
"So are they alright?" Ace was standing between the unconscious levitating forms of her Doctor and Amy. The Zero Room was much more inviting than it used to be. The lights and walls had changed from stark white to a pale blue, making it look less like a hospital ward and more like the morning sky. She held the Professor's hand in hers, tracing its lines and creases with the tip of her index finger.
"Right now – physically – yes. It's what's going on in their minds that we need to worry about."
"In their minds?" Ace looked at her tutor's face. He seemed to be sleeping peacefully enough. Then again, it was nigh impossible for her to read his thoughts that way. It always had been.
"Psychic pollen locks its prey in a dream state. If I'm correct, then things are about to take a turn for the worse."
"What do you mean, Doctor?"
Before he could respond, Amy let out a sudden gasp and sat up with a jolt. Her eyes locked on the Doctor – her Doctor – and wrapped her arms tightly round his neck.
"Amy, what is it? What happened?"
"I heard the birds! The Dream Lord, he must be back!"
"Hush now. It's alright. The psychic pollen's been removed from your system. Everything's under-"
The Doctor winced in pain and pulled away from Amy's embrace. He clamped his eyes shut and pressed his fingers to his temples.
"Doctor!"
"Face me."
"What did you say?"
The pain subsided and he opened his eyes. "What? Oh, nothing," he said, straightening his bow tie. "Ace, could you escort Amy to her room? There's something I need to do."