A/N - Thank you so much, everyone! I'm really glad you're enjoying it :) Now, this chapter will contain violence and maybe some other uncomfortable matter, so read with caution!
Disclaimer - I don't own Doctor Who or anything/anyone in it. I only own my OC, Emma Walker.
"Emma? Emma, wake up."
"Mmm." Emma smiled, keeping her eyes closed. "Doctor, are we on the TARDIS? Safe, and sound, and ready for an adventure?" Her words were met with a hard slap to the face and she cried out, her eyes opening wide. She was still chained up to the chair, her neck stiff from the position she'd slept in, and the Doctor was standing by her. Unfortunately for her, it still wasn't the right Doctor, judging by the way he'd hit her.
"When I tell you to wake up, you wake up!" He pulled a key from his jacket and unlocked her chains, hauling her up roughly by her arm. "Look at you! You're filthy." He was soon dragging her out of the dining room and into the great hall. Her body moved towards the door, but his went to the stairs and she had no choice but to follow. He stopped in front of a door and pushed it open, revealing it to be a bathroom. "You have fifteen minutes to piss and shower, maybe even to brush your teeth if you feel like it. I'll be back as soon as those fifteen minutes are up, whether you're finished or not." With that, he shoved her into the room and slammed the door shut.
The first thing she did was run for the window across the room. It was rather small, and had bars running through it, and was most likely far from the ground, but she could make do as long as the bars were loose. She shook the bars and yanked them as hard as she could, growling in frustration when they didn't even begin to budge. "Come on!" She pulled for a long as she could, wasting a couple minutes of her fifteen before she finally admitted defeat and released the bars. There was no doubt that the door was locked, so she decided not to waste anymore time; after using the toilet, she peeled off the clingy maid outfit and took what was possibly the quickest shower of her life. She certainly didn't want him walking in on her and, thankfully, he still hadn't barged in when she was finished and had a towel wrapped around herself.
Over the sink were an array of toothbrushes, all in different sizes and colors, and with different names written on the handles. At the very end of the line was a toothbrush with her name on it, still in its packaging. "Blimey." She tore off the packaging and rummaged around for toothpaste before she started the process of brushing her teeth.
By the time she had finished and was rinsing off the brush, the Doctor stepped in. "Oh, that towel suits you better than the chains."
"I'm sure." She put the brush back in its place. "I'm nearly finished, I just have to put that dress back on, so if you'll excuse me..."
"No."
She looked up at him. "What?"
"I'm not excusing you and you're not nearly finished." He looked her over. "Put your outfit on."
"You..." She trailed off, clenching her fists for a moment before dropping the towel. She could feel his eyes on her as she turned away and pulled on her undergarments, and even still as she put the dress on.
"Good. Now, put your hair up."
"What?" She turned back to face him. "Why?"
Anger came to his face and he stormed over to her, burying his hand in her hair to yank her head back. "Because I don't want this curly mop of yours getting in the way of your duties. I think we've talked about you questioning me, haven't we? I guess you'll just have to learn the hard way."
"I'll put my hair up!" She grabbed onto his wrist, trying to ease the pain he was causing by pulling so harshly. "Just let go and I'll put my hair up. Not questioning it."
"Maybe," he hissed, pulling harder, "Maybe I should just cut it off."
"I said I'd put my hair up!" She was suddenly shoved back, stumbling. "I don't have anything to put it up with." She raised an eyebrow as he handed her a hair tie, turning to the mirror to fix a ponytail. "For being so...you, you sure keep your servants stocked up on things."
"I like my women to look a certain way. I don't give a damn what my men do, so long as they keep the hair short."
She tugged on the ponytail to tighten the band around it, unable to stop from scoffing at his words. "Of course you're sexist. Why am I not surprised? You really are the opposite of my Doctor." The look he gave her made her wish she could just pull the words right back into her mouth; it wasn't one of anger, but of curiosity. She imagined this was the moment his questioning of the other Doctor would begin.
"Believes in equal rights, does he?" He smiled. "Let's you say and do what you want, takes you wherever you ask, let's you take care of yourself, tells you what a strong, brave girl you are when he's taking you againt the console as payment for being so kind to you."
Her cheeks turned pink, but anger coursed through her. You bloody despicable piece of absolute—Her thoughts came to an abrupt stop when she realized what he said. Console. Like her Doctor, he must have a TARDIS. He'd mentioned it before, but she had been too busy thinking he was her Doctor. If she could find it and get it on her side, perhaps she could escape. "Do you have a TARDIS?"
"Of course I do." His words had her hopes soaring for only a moment. "Well, I guess I should say that I did. She's just a great, big pile of scraps now."
"As if I needed another reason for proof that you're not the right Doctor. You're an idiot."
"As if I needed another reason to beat that attitude out of you." He grabbed her roughly by the back of her neck, holding her tightly as he guided her out of the room. "One day, my dear, you're going to cry with every movement. You'll have the shape of my hand on your face, marks all over your body, and your bruised knees will make you sob when you're scrubbing the floors." He stopped in front of a door. "But until then, let's see if you'll cooperate with your duties." He pushed the door open, shoving her into the room. "This is my bedroom."
His little speech had already shaken her, but Emma's eyes went wide at the sight of his bedroom. His bed looked like a pack of wild dogs had had a fight in it, his floor was nearly covered with clothing, and there were bottles scattered all over the place. "What the hell do you even do in here?"
"Oh, it's usually not this bad. I did a bit of...let's say, partying to make it better for you. Clean it up." He hissed. "You'll collect all the bottles and whatever filth, and put them in a bin bag that you'll find on that end table. Then you'll put all the clothes and everything on the bed into that laundry bin; you'll find new sheets and pillows in that cupboard." He pointed to an antique, wooden cabinet against the right wall of the room, which would be impossible to get to until she cleaned up the pile of clothes in front of it. "After you're all finished, you'll take the bag down to the kitchen and the bin down to the laundry room, then you come find me." His arm suddenly slipped around her. "I expect this too look like a room in a five-star hotel, Emma. If it doesn't..." His fingers brushed over her side. "You'll look rather nice with bruised ribs. Is that clear?"
She wanted to scream. She wanted to tell him no and that he could clean it himself, and she wanted to just storm out; but his fingers were now digging into her ribs, and she knew that she could either clean willingly or clean with aching ribs. "Crystal."
"You're learning faster than I figured." He kissed her cheek like he loved her and then he was gone in a flash, leaving her alone in the disaster of a room.
"You'll look rather nice with bruised ribs." She spat mockingly as she moved around, starting with gathering bottles. "Is that clear?" Some were beer bottles and some were wine, and a few even had alien languages on them. She tossed them in the bag without a care and had picked up every last one quicker than she thought she would before moving onto the clothing.
Beneath every item was a piece of garbage — whether it be a food bag, a condom, or any other number of gross things — and she had to alternate between tossing one thing into the laundry bin and another into the bag. It took far longer than the bottles had and she reckoned it had been at least fifteen or twenty minutes by the time she'd started stripping the bed.
"Oh, God." She had just thrown the comforter into the bin when she spotted a bundle of pink lace in the middle of the bed. Picking it up, she found that it was a pair of knickers, in two parts since it was torn down the middle. She didn't know if this Doctor really was a sex-crazed maniac or if he'd just done this to make her uncomfortable, but it made her shudder either way. "Why me?" She mumbled, simply putting it in the bag with the rest of the rubbish and continuing changing the bed.
She did her best to make it absolutely perfect. Every set of sheets in the cupboard had been the same shade of ivory and she'd chosen at random, making the bed like it was actually her job. She smoothed out the blankets and fluffed up the pillows, and stepped back to admire her work. "Looks five-star to me." With a final look of the room, she hauled the bag up onto the laundry bin and began pulling it out of the room. "Blimey, this is a two person job." It was a bit difficult, but she soon got adjusted to the weight of it and had pulled it all the way to the stairs, frustrated to find that they were blocked.
There was a girl standing there in a similar maid's outfit, eighteen years at the oldest, looking between the stairs and her own laundry bin with a look of confusion on her face. The first thing Emma felt was anger at the thought of someone so young having to work there and have an outift like that, and the second thing she felt was sympathy. She would likely get in trouble if the Doctor found out, but she couldn't just stand by and watch as a girl fell to her death, ultimately crushed by the heavy bin.
"Let me help." She said softly, making her way over and grabbing the handle on the opposite end of the bin. The girl eyed her warily before grabbing the other handle, starting to guide it down the stairs. "The big man didn't think this through, did he?" Her joke was met with silence and she gave a weak laugh. "Or maybe he did." She chose to keep her attention on looking over her shoulder to avoid falling, until they had reached the bottom. "There you are." She released the handle, stepping back. "I'm Emma. You?" She watched as the girl bit her lip and then pointed to a vase of purple flowers. It took her a moment before she remembered what they were. "Violet! Your name is Violet. You could have just said so, you know."
Violet shook her head, patting her own throat and raising her hand up to her mouth as if to visualize speaking.
"You can't talk?" Emma's guess was met with a nod. "Oh, the ruddy bastard! What has he done to you?" She saw the nervous look flash over Violet's face before the girl was grabbing her bin and pushing it away as fast as she could. "Wait!" She sighed as she disappeared from view. "Right. See you." She made her way back up the stairs, dragging the bag off the bin and carrying it down to the kitchen. "Take this out for me, yeah? Thanks." Then she was back to the second floor to the laundry bin. Getting it downstairs alone was going to be a hassle, but she sort of knew that angering the Doctor would be much more of a hassle, so she decided to try.
By some miracle, she made it down to the marble floor and began wheeling the bin around in search of the laundry room. The Doctor obviously had every worker doing this sort of thing, but he had a feeling he had her do it just to spite her. After all, she didn't exactly know where she was going with the bin. She just went in the direction Violet had gone until she eventually found the laundry room and wheeled it in.
That was when she had been told to find the Doctor. That likely meant he would pile on more ridiculous work for her to do, just to get pleasure from watching her suffer. However, instead of finding him, she thought of a better idea; finding a way to escape. It had only been a day and she didn't plan to give up anytime soon, even if she feared this Doctor. She would find a way to escape, and if he caught her, she could just say she was looking for him. Hopefully he'd believe that.
There was the door in the kitchen, obviously, but she would have to find a time when it was empty and guards weren't watching, which she doubted would happen. Passing by the front door had her discovering that it was guarded, and every window she saw was barred like the one in the bathroom. No matter, she still wasn't going to give up. Even if she couldn't make it out of the castle, her Doctor was searching frantically for her and would find her. He had to, didn't he?
"You didn't fall down the stairs." There was a hand suddenly on her shoulder, the wrong Doctor standing behind her and breaking her out of a daydream of the right Doctor appearing in his TARDIS. "I'm surprised, but not too disappointed. Such an unexpectedly good girl you are." His hand came up to pat her on the head and she had to keep from biting him like the dog he thought she was. "I expect the bedroom looks perfect?"
"I think so, yes." She said through clenched teeth. She wanted to snap, and scream, and kick him, and punch him in his cocky face; but she properly feared him. She knew he would go through with his threats because he was wrong. She just had to put up with it all until she managed to get out.
"We'll see what your ribs say. But, for now, onto your next job..."
"Why are you giving me all the 'jobs'? You have several maids."
"Shifts, darling, shifts." He took hold of her arm, gentler than when he'd dragged her around this morning, and guided her down yet another hallway. There were a few servants, male and female, who held trays of bread and water. "I'll let you spend some time in the dungeon. I usually don't let the maids down there until they're experienced, but you're special." He lead her down a set of dark stairs, to a room lined with cells on either side. The servants followed after them. "You'll just make sure they're alive, give them their food, wash them if they're filthy. Don't try being funny and setting them free. You're being watched." Then, like every other time he gave her orders, he was gone.
A tray with a quarter of a loaf of bread and a tin cup full of water on it was placed in her hands by a rather timid servant. "I guess I just give these out?" She swallowed. All the cells were open and she didn't understand why until she entered one, finding that the man inside was chained to the wall. "God..." She breathed, moving further in and placing the tray on the floor, watching for a moment as the man turn and devour it like an animal.
She repeated this with each prisoner until she was down to the last tray, moving to the cell at the other end of the room. She had expected this one to be like all the rest, silent and starving from how the Doctor had treated them. She hadn't expected him to speak.
"Mouse? That you?" As he looked over his shoulder, Emma nearly dropped the tray.
"Jack?"
DUN DUN DUN. So, the Doctor is a raging asshole for no reason, Emma unfortunately has to play along until she escapes, and she found Jack! I hope you all are liking it so far. This chapter was a little bit boring what with it being mostly Emma, but I hope you liked it! Follow, favorite, and review if you'd like :)