A/N: Greetings, my faithful followers! Here's the next chapter to my fanfic, and I just want to apologize again for the wait. I hope you guys know that I will NOT abandon you on this story, no matter how many cliffies I choose to inclued. I do appreciate all of the encouragement you guys have been giving me, and I'll post the next chapter ASAP, promise! ;)
Chapter 6: More Running
The lights of the TARDIS flickered on and off. Rory was lying on his stomach. He groaned and climbed to his feet and looked around. Sparks flew from several controls on the TARDIS's console, and there was shattered glass scattered on the ground. Amy was lying down next to him, also on her face. "Amy? Amy, are you OK?" Rory said, kneeling next to his wife. She didn't respond, but instead lifted her head with a grunt of discomfort. Rory sighed in relief. She was alright.
"Rory?" Amy shook her head, and Rory offered her a hand. She accepted gratefully, and climbed to her feet. "Did we crash?"
"I think so. I don't know where, though. Probably on the Pitastranga-something ship," he said.
Amy ran her fingers through her hair. "Well, at least we're alright. I should probably wake John," she said, glancing over at him. He was on the other side of the console, sprawled on his back and eyes closed.
"Good idea. I'll check to see where we are." Rory hurried down the steps and opened the door. He barely poked his head out before there was a hissing screech, and a sound like a laser firing. Sparks showered down from the spot right above Rory's head, and he jerked himself right back inside and slammed the door.
"What? What is it?" Amy asked from behind the console.
"Well, the good news is that we made it onto the ship," Rory said.
"Are there any Pitastranga-somethings around?"
"Right outside, actually."
"Great," Amy muttered. "And, um, Rory? I think you'd better look at this." Her voice had a hint of concern to it.
Rory groaned, "What is it now?"
"He won't wake up."
Rory made a look like not again and bent down to examine John. The upper part of his head was swollen and dotted with dark purple bruises. A thin cut that extended from his mid-forehead to the far right temple oozed a steady stream of blood. Rory lightly touched the tip of his finger to the wound, and John grimaced in his sleep.
"What's wrong with him?" Amy asked. Rory shook his head unhelpfully.
"Could be a concussion, but I can't tell how serious it is until he wakes up. I don't like the look of that cut, though," he said, eying the injury warily.
"Well, can't you do something?" Amy said, a note of panic touching her words.
Rory glanced at the door of the TARDIS. It was glowing bright red around the edges, and he could hear the clicking and hissing of the Pitastranga-somethings on the other side. "No… not enough time…"
Amy followed his gaze to the door. "The TARDIS? But…no. We're safe, right? Didn't the Doctor say that nothing could get past those doors?" She turned back to her husband, a frightened look in her eyes. "Nothing can put a dent in it, right?"
"Don't forget that the ship's damaged," Rory reminded her. "And if they're not at least denting it, then I don't know what they're doing." He gestured to the door, which was now creaking from whatever the Pitastranga-somethings were doing to it.
"Well, what do you propose we do now, Mr. Nothing-Is-Going-To-Work?" Amy asked, frustrated.
"You expect me to know?" Rory snapped back.
Amy made an exasperated noise. "There must be something. A back door, emergency engine – anything!"
Rory jumped up and started messing with stuff on the console.
"What are you doing?" Amy asked.
"I don't know! The Doctor just presses stuff and something happens," Rory said, flipping switches and pressing buttons like there was no tomorrow. For all he knew, there wouldn't be.
"You don't even know what'll happen," Amy scolded.
"I doubt it'll be much worse than our current situation," he countered. Finally, he pulled a lever, and a holographic image of the Doctor appeared next to him.
"Hello," said the Doctor hologram. "You've just activated the emergency defense mechanism. Please state the access code to begin."
"Access code?! You need a bloody access code?!" Rory came close to shrieking.
"Incorrect. Please state the access code to begin."
A low, drawn-out creak emitted from the TARDIS door, and Rory could hear the sound of sparks and sizzles from the other side. "Oh, alright. How about 'please save us now before we die?'" Rory said.
"Incorrect. Please state the access code to begin."
"Doctor! Please help us!" Amy wailed. She was on the other side of the room now, trying to barricade the door.
"Incorrect. Please state the access code to begin."
"Oh, I don't know. 'The Doctor is the best?' 'Don't blink?' 'Hello, sweetie?'" Rory yelled.
"Incorrect. Please state the access code to begin."
"Jesus!" Rory yelled. He looked at the door again. It was bulging inward slightly, and the Pitastranga-somethings were clicking excitedly. They didn't have much time left. "Just start with the shooting and the saving already!"
"Incorrect. Please state the access code to begin."
"Fish fingers and custard!" Amy blurted, still piling various items in front of the door.
"Access granted. Security system enabled. All weapons online," said the Doctor hologram.
Rory didn't even pause to question it. "Fire everything!" he screamed, and then ducked down as an ear-splitting ringing noise blared throughout the whole ship. The room grew dark, and the TARDIS shook violently.
Suddenly, all noise ceased, and everything stood still. There was no light except a few flickering buttons on the console. "Amy?" Rory panted, squinting in the dark. He could just make out her faint outline next to the door.
"I'm here," came her reply. "What happened?"
"I think it must've…drained the power or something," he said. He walked over to the console and tapped a dial that was glowing faintly. It looked a lot like a gas meter that one would find in a car. The little red needle was pointing at the E, but was very, very slowly edging further up the meter. "We must be on emergency reserves. She's recharging," he said, looking up at his wife. Amy had her head pressed up against the door.
"I don't hear anything," she said. "Do you think they're dead?"
"I don't know, but I wouldn't open that if I were you," Rory said cautiously.
Completely ignoring him, Amy began to shove away some of the stuff that she had piled against the door. "I'm going to check," she said. After moving the rest of the boxes and gadgets that used to be blocking the door, Amy creaked it open and peeked outside. She closed it soon after, a sick expression on her face. "Yeah," she said, her voice shaking a bit. "Yeah, they're dead."
Rory looked around, though he couldn't see much in the dark. "Others would've heard the TARDIS. We should get moving, before more come."
"And what about John?" Amy gestured to the man who was still lying, unconscious, on the ground.
Rory looked at him. "I guess we'll just have to carry him." He paused. "We still have a bit of time left before other Pitastranga-somethings get here. Can you get some wipes and bandages from the infirmary?" he asked.
"The medicine cabinets will be locked," Amy said.
"Here." Rory bent down and patted the floor with his hands. Finally, he came across a small, cool cylinder. As he had suspected, John had dropped his screwdriver when the TARDIS crashed. Rory scooped out the instrument and tossed it to his wife. He heard it clatter against the floor.
"Have you forgotten that I can't catch anything when I can't even see when you're throwing it at me?" Amy said, irritated.
"Sorry."
"It's fine. I think I found it anyway." A small blue light came on from in front of the doors, and Rory heard the buzzing of the screwdriver being activated. "Yep. I've got it," Amy confirmed. "I'll be right back." Using the light from the sonic screwdriver as a torch, Amy climbed up the stairs and disappeared down the hall.
As he was waiting for his wife to return with supplies, Rory bent down next to John. He removed his jacket and pressed it against the cut on his head, which was still oozing blood. He heard John suck in his breath sharply, but Rory did not once release the pressure. He didn't want John to lose any more blood.
After a moment, Amy returned, one hand holding the screwdriver, and the other cradling a roll of gauze and some cleansing wipes. "Is this good?" she asked.
"Yeah, that's fine," Rory replied. "Now, I'll need help moving John outside the TARDIS."
Amy groaned and shifted the sonic into her other hand. She tucked the items underneath her arm and bent down to grab John's feet. "One, two, three, lift," she said, and both Rory and Amy pulled John up. "God, what has this guy been eating?" Amy huffed.
They began an awkward shuffle down the stairs and to the entrance of the TARDIS. Rory kicked it open and stepped outside, careful not to bang John on the edges of the door. As he stepped into the hallway, Rory realized why Amy had looked so sick earlier. He could feel the head from the metal floor through his shoes. Charred remains of aliens surrounded the TARDIS. Steam rolled off of their bodies, and some of their mechanical legs were still twitching. Rory tried his best not to gag.
They made their way down the hallway and carried John through the ship for a while before he groaned and rolled his head to one side.
"Set him down, set him down," Rory puffed, eager to give his tired arms a break.
Amy obliged, and put John's feet on the ground. "Oh, so now he chooses to wake up," she said with a hint of dry humor. She leaned over to get a better look at him. "John? Are you awake?" she asked.
John shook his head and blinked up at Amy. "Martha?" he slurred, squinting.
"Martha? No, John, it's me, Amy."
"Amy…" he moaned. "My head…"
"You banged it pretty hard," Rory told him. "How do you feel?"
"Well, my mouth tastes like bile, I can't feel my fingers, and my head feels like it's about to split in two, but other than that, I'm just dandy," John grumbled.
"Here, just lean back a little. Let me see that cut," said Rory. John obliged. Rory peered at the injury closely. The bleeding had stopped. It was now a thick line of dried, rust-colored blood. The skin around it was red and irritated. His forehead glittered with sweat. "Okay, John," he said, gesturing for Amy to hand him the wipes. "I'm going to clean the cut, and then bandage it. Now, this may sting a little." He opened up the packet and brought out the cool, damp wipe. Then, he began to rub it along the wound. John inhaled sharply and grunted in pain.
"Alright," said Rory, now unrolling the gauze. "I'm going to ask you a few questions, and I want you to try your best to answer them. OK?" John nodded weakly, and Rory proceeded in wrapping the gauze around his head. "Do you know what day it is?"
"Of course I do! It's…erm…um, D-December 15th. Right?" John said uncertainly.
"Yes, very good, John. You're doing very well," said Rory. He tucked the remainder of the gauze underneath the wrap and tied it in a firm knot.
"You don't have to talk to me like I'm 5. I can understand what you're saying," said John, giving Rory an annoyed glance.
"Right, sorry," Rory replied. "You just took a pretty good knock to the head. I am a nurse."
"Well, I'm flattered, but no need to worry. Here, help me up." Rory hesitated. "It's fine," John insisted. "I'd rather not have the universe ripped to shreds on my account, thank you very much." Rory didn't look convinced, but he helped John to his feet anyway. He stood for a moment, swaying uncertainly.
"Are you sure you're OK?" Amy asked.
"Of course I'm OK! I'm as OK as OK can be! Can't find anyone more OK than I am!" John took a confident step forward, and staggered, falling to one knee. Rory and Amy were on him in a second. They slung his arms over their shoulders and supported him while he climbed back up.
"John, I don't think you are OK," said Amy.
"Fine. I'm just…fine…" he slurred, though his brow was beaded with sweat and his voice was tight with pain. Amy gave a confused look to Rory, who mouthed back, concussion.
"Fantastic," Amy grumbled. "What do we do now?"
Rory glanced at his watch. They were dangerously low on time. They only had just over an hour and a half until the crack shattered reality like glass. "We don't have time to take him back to the TARDIS," Rory said. "Our best bet is to find Rose and the Doctor and close the gap as quickly as possible."
"But this ship is huge!" Amy exclaimed hopelessly. "How are we supposed to stop the end of the universe 'as quickly as possible?'?"
Out of nowhere, they heard an all-too-familiar voice coming from down the hallway.
"RUUUUUN!" screamed the Doctor as he, accompanied by Rose, sprinted toward them.
"Doctor?" Amy called, surprised.
"No time to talk! Come along, Ponds!" he called, zooming past her with Rose close behind. Amy was about to ask why they were running, when she heard numerous hisses and clicks coming from the direction that Rose and the Doctor had just came from.
"Uh-oh," said Amy, eyes widening in realization.
Rory was a bit slower. "What? What is it?" he asked. Amy readjusted her grip on John.
"Run!" she said, and with both of them supporting John, Amy and Rory hurried after their friends.