(Author's Note: I would like to take a moment to answer a few questions you guys have asked of me. A few have been asked multiple times, so I figured this was the best way.
1. I will not be doing sonic sunglasses. I am not a fan of them. I don't hate them as much as most people do but I don't exactly like them. Not flashy enough.
2. I am well aware I have had a character utter the phrase, The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few two story's in a row. It is intentionally done, and will be a running theme in this series. Good catch feline38.
3. I have gotten an overwhelming number of requests for a fic with Vastra, Strax and Jenny. That will happen. Be patient my pretty's. All in good time.
4. Missy. I regret to inform you we will have no Missy. That is not to say we will not see an incarceration of the Master however.
5. Rose, Jack, Martha ect. Generally I am not ruling out any appearance of any previous companions unless they are dead. What would the fun be in that?
6. Boneless. One of you out there really wants me to do the Boneless. I'm considering it. That's not a yes, or a no. Its a maybe.
Ok, whew. Now that that is out of the way, here's chapter 6. Enjoy my thirsty little Whovians. Drink up.)
Rage pulsed through The Doctor's body as he watched his TARDIS fade away, slowly winking out of existence until no trace of it remained. The fury of a Time Lord. Unbridled, unending, unstoppable.
They had done it again. The Weeping Angels had robbed him one more time. This time they were seeking to steal his future. To kill his oldest friend. His fists clenched. Perhaps they would succeed, but it would be at a cost. He would take them with him.
He looked at Sarah Jane, fumbling around with her sonic lipstick. Guilt wracked him. After all this time, after all he did to try and stop it, he would cause the death of Sarah Jane. It was because he was selfish. He cajoled her into going with him, running off again. If he hadn't she would be content to sit at home, and be boring. Be alive.
His eyes came to Dawson next. The engineer was absently gripping a wound on his arm, grimacing. He had wrapped it haphazardly with the sleeve off his other arm, but he could see the blood trickling out.
"How did you get that?" The Doctor asked, giving him a side long glance.
"It's just a scratch, I'm fine. Besides I'll be dead in a few hours, so what does it matter?" He replied caustically.
"Here let me see it, scan it, make sure it isn't infected," he held up his sonic screwdriver, walking forward.
"No way, I'm not going to let you probe me. You! Don't touch me!" he shouted abruptly. The Doctor backed off. That wasn't suspicious at all... what could he possibly be hiding about a scratch?
Everyone looked at the engineer, sweat forming on his brow. He was incredibly agitated, quite suddenly, even for him.
"What is everyone looking at me for? Stop staring!" he shouted. He wasn't making a case for himself. The Doctor let it go for now, not wanting to push this further. They did not have the time. Not right now.
"Anyway, I have a plan. Here put these on," he held up a stack of five metal chokers. He handed them to Sarah Jane, who began handing them out. He kept one for himself, and put it on.
"What are these?" Ursula asked, holding it up.
"A bit of technology I picked up in my last shopping spree. They'll allow you to breathe in the vacuum of space, and anchor you with some gravitational force. So you don't float away," he answered simply.
"That's not possible, no one has anything like that," Katrina argued. The Doctor groaned.
"Such a detractor. You're right, they don't. Not yet. But statues didn't move a few hours ago, so things change. Just put it on, and press the button on the side." He did so as a demonstration. A sharp pain poked into the sides of his neck. He felt the needles contained inside probe into his neck, resting there in.
"You'll feel some pain, but it's just the device connecting to your nervous system," he explained, "it's nothing to worry about. I prefer normal suits, but we're pressed for time so..."
The rest of the group did the same as he did, turning on their chokers.
"Who here has walked in space before?" Sarah Jane started putting up her hand. He smiled. "Other than you, Sarah."
"I did, once or twice. I didn't much like it," Dawson spoke up.
"Why exactly are we doing this? It's seems dangerous," Katrina worried.
"The ship is crawling with Angels. This is a shortcut," he replied, "or maybe a long-cut, I really don't know... or care. As long we avoid getting killed before we reach the control room, I don't care."
"I'm not sure I can do this," she whined.
"It's alright... no experience, no problem! Time to learn on the job boys, and girls. Come on, have no fear, The Doctor is here" He clapped his hands together, and led the group outside the room, back into the hall. He looked in both directions, making sure no Angels were waiting for them. Only those previously trapped were there, staring at themselves.
"You didn't happen to do that, did you?" he quietly asked, pointing to the pair of Angels staring at one another.
"No, I thought it was you," she replied.
"That's what I suspected. Someone here is helping us, someone in the shadows. Look at this," he pulled the key he found from his pocket, showing it to her.
"A key? For what?" She asked.
"The ship control room. It's the only manual lock on the ship, so no one can hack it. Someone left it for me," he replied. She furrowed her brow.
"Who could it be?"
"I don't know. I don't want to make any assumptions, or guesses. Could be almost anyone, or anything. I have a lot of friends in low places. And enemies." There really were far to many to guess. He didn't have enough information. Not yet. "Alright, everyone has their collars on, yes? And turned on? Check, because if they're not I'll be covered in your eyes. I don't like being covered in eyes... it's sticky." Everyone did at The Doctor requested. One by one they nodded, or gave a thumbs up.
He turned to the massive window, putting his hand against it. The same colorful planets greeted him. Infinite space stretched out in front of him, stars winking, beckoning to him. Should he have made a different choice? Taken himself, Sarah Jane, and the rest, and just run away? His conscience of would recover some day... perhaps. It was the perhaps that stopped him. He had enough guilt. He would garner more, of that he was positive. Unleashing hell on another world out of selfishness, and a desire for self preservation was not something he was comfortable with. He didn't stand idol, not any more. Those days were centuries in his past.
"Sarah, stand on that side." he motioned to the opposite side of the window, "Sonic up. Setting pi alpha-two." She nodded in return, doing as instructed. "We're going for a rectangle here, I have faith in your obsessive compulsive abilities."
"Look who's talking," she smirked back.
His screwdriver warbled and whirred as he started at the windows base, moving up slowly. Sarah Jane did the same with her lipstick. He lifted it above his head, and started walking toward Sarah Jane. She did the same, and soon they met in the center. As both tools met, he put his foot aginst the glass, and pushed.
He felt the massive pull, as the glass fell away, the wind like vacuum ripping through the room, sucking away the air. Artificial air filled his lungs, and a strange dizzy pressure filled his head, his ears popping. This countered the effects of being exposed to the vacuum. He felt it pull him forward, his coat a mess around him, and his feet sliding along the carpet until the choker activated, anchoring him to the floor. He watched the glass slowly float backwards, gently sailing into the unknown. Barely audible, he heard the buzzer of this section of the ship locking down to prevent all the air from being sucked out. He and Sarah both backed away, and he took a deep breath.
He looked to Sarah Jane, who looked back, giving him a nervous smile. He held out his hand, motioning for her to take it. She did so, gripping it tightly. She motioned to the rest to take hers. Ursula was first, with Katrina taking her hand. Dawson was last, gripping her's with his uninjured hand, nodding to The Doctor.
His first few steps were clumsy, the lack of air fighting ,with the gravity producing collar. His leg went far into the air then stomped back down. He was sure of how foolish he looked, though by the time he reached the gap, he was able to take long strides relatively normally. As he looked over the edge of the window, he let go of Sarah's hand, and put his foot on the outer wall. He lifted the other up and stretched out his arms, letting the collar do the rest.
He was pulled downward, into a standing position. He caught himself before momentum sent him floating forward. He didn't need to see space that badly. He stepped up a bit then turned, and motioned to Sarah Jane to come next. With a worried look she bravely planted her foot on the outside wall. He always admired that about her; she was always so courageous, even when terrified.
She to was yanked outward, into a standing position. Her arms flailed as she nearly lost her balance, and he grabbed her hand steadying her. Both feet stomped down. With a surprised look she balanced herself. He smiled a bit, noticing her dark hair floating around her in a mess. She gave him a questioning look, and he motioned to it with his finger. Realization came to her, and she screwed up her face, shooting him a glare, then making a fist at him. He only smiled more.
The rest of their group stepped outside in the same clumsy way Sarah Jane had. Again they all held hands. He didn't need anyone floating away. If anyone it would probably be Dawson... he didn't seem like the anti-gravity type.
They started their trek down the ship. The whole bow of the Black Inertia stretched out before them. As he looked down at it, The Doctor almost felt dizzy. He was not used to seeing ships at a directly downward angle. Was it downward? There were no directions out in space.
It disturbed him however, looking at it. When he and Sarah Jane had arrived, it had been alight. It had reminded him almost of a city at night, twinkling on the horizon. Now it fit it's name much more; black. Without the yellow emergency lights outlining the whole of the ship, he would scarcely be able to see it. He supposed it did not matter, as he would be destroying it soon, but did that mean he should forget hat it had once looked like? What a marvel it had once been? It was a shame it would be gone. Why did all of the things like the Black Inertia, things that brought joy, end up destroyed? All this death was senseless and selfish.
They took their time, careful not to over step. Even if they did, they all had each other to keep themselves anchored. They passed by a multitude of windows, some peering into halls, others, rooms. He dare not look into any of them. He did not want to see what was inside, how empty it was, or risk letting the Angels know what they were up to. Not that they would not figure it out. They were smarter than people gave them credit for. As they reached the "bottom" they all navigated another step down.
Atop the bow, he almost felt like he could breathe again. They were half way to where he was leading them. As he stood there, he could not help but admire the view. The beautiful galaxies and startling planets were even more breathtaking than from the windows. From here he could see the shining rings glinting in more detail, the stardust floating in clouds of grandeur, and the stars just waiting to be explored for the first time. Sights like these were what lured him away from Gallifrey all those years ago. Every time he believed he had become immune to the pull of such perfection, the universe seemed to slap him in the face with more, just to prove he wasn't. He decided he should be happy about that, that he hadn't become cold to such things in his old age as many of the Time Lords did. Perhaps it was because he had chosen the life of a wanderer, unlike his people. Or maybe it was his mischief, and meddling, something they actively avoided. Maybe it was because he feared this would be the last time, and he wanted to savor it. What a fitting last meal it would be, staring off into the place he spent most his time. It was a feast for the eyes after all.
Once he had his fill, he started up toward the front. They hugged the edge of the ship, carful not to step off. All that lit their path were the emergency lights, slicing rays of yellow through the black. As they reached the half way point, The Doctor stopped. This was right about where he wanted to be. His sense of direction was nearly impeccable on most days. He motioned for another step down, this time on the ships port side.
This side-step went far smoother than the last, each of them letting their chokers do most of the work for them. None of them flailed this time, just stepping and being pulled by force. Again they gripped one another in solidarity. No emergency lighting guided them here, but the orange light of the distant sun, was enough to see his target. The cargo bay doors.
They used it to load containers full of supplies into the ship, and it was how he planned to break in past their enemies. It was better to avoid them for the time being. He pointed to the doors, and looked at Sarah Jane. She gave him that same look she had given him for the last few centuries; that raised brow, "you've got to be kidding me you crazy person," look. Or maybe it was the "brilliant idea Doctor, good job!" He could never tell anymore. He decided to go with the second.
They approached the massive door, and positioned themselves at the door's bottom. He wanted to be on the floor when they entered, so that when the gravity turned back on inside, they wouldn't fall to their deaths. He had fallen to his death before. It wasn't one of his happy-fun time experiences. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his sonic screwdriver. He was careful not to let go of it, not wanting it to float off. Then he would have to use Sarah Jane's. It's difficult to look intimidating, and dashing with a tube of lipstick. He ran his tool across the bottom of the door, sure to have it on the correct setting.
It shuddered and shook a bit, then started to slide open. As it did, he peeked in. It was a typical cargo hold on a ship this size. Giant metal crates were stacked inside, each likely containing some supply the ship needed. It looked relatively dark inside. He was hardly surprised, emergency lights weren't as reliable in bowels of ships like this. Cargo holds were the last of people's worries. Overall it looked clear however, a good sign. They just may have circumvented the Weeping Angels after all.
He stepped up through the door, grabbing Sarah Jane's hand, pulling her up. They did the same with Ursula, Katrina, and Dawson. They walked into the hold carefully, and The Doctor spun about. He pointed his screwdriver at the door, and remotely closed it.
"Decompression beginning," a low robotic voice said. He guessed it would have been louder if the power were not out, but a vibrating rasp was all it could produce.
A horrendous wind followed, blowing hard against The Doctor's face and body. He shut his eyes, and shielded himself with his hands. It was the air returning to the room via the ships counter balance system. That was fine by him. He never much liked anti-gravity. As furiously and abruptly as it started it stopped, leaving them in a calm, quiet room.
"You can turn off you collars now, we're back in the funzone," he said, switching his off.
"Guess we can talk again too," Dawson muttered.
"Only if you promise not to be annoying, , now we can get to..." she stopped as he heard footfalls thrumming in the distance. "We're not alone in here. We need to go. Ohhhhh I'm and idiot!" he growled.
"Why? What's wrong?" Katrina asked, fear evident in her young face.
"This is where they came in, through the cargo hold. I've taken us right into their home. Where they keep their..." a light giggle echoed throughout the room, sending a chill down his neck, "children."
"We need to go now!" Sarah Jane shouted.
"Run!" he agreed. Both time travelers turned the on the lights on their screwdrivers, extending an umbrella of red and green glow around them. The better to see their enemies with, or so he hoped.
The Time Lord took off, running full tilt up the cargo bay. Sarah Jane was right behind him, Dawson even with her and the two girls lagging behind. More childish laughter echoed in the room, somewhere to their left. He ducked right, passing between a pair of containers.
"Their behind us, I can hear them!" Katrina shouted in panic.
"Their slower then the parents, we can outrun these. This is more about not getting cornered. They will try but they're young, and stupid," said The Doctor. If they were in a room full of adults, they would all be dead already.
They turned at the edge of the container. He could hear the light pitter patter of their feet on the metal floor, this time coming at their left. They were closing in, he could feel it. Even so young, they were predators of the worst kind.
He held his screwdriver out ahead of him, to better see where he was going. He stopped in his tracks. Up ahead, three cherub statues stood together. Plump things with tiny wings, they covered their eyes with one hand, almost in a playful manner.
"Their smaller but nearly as deadly, come on! This way!" The Doctor yelled in a commanding voice. It was probably his accent more than anything, but if it helped these people survive he didn't care. He turned right, dodging in between another pair of containers. They just had to out maneuver them. As they came out the other side, he spotted two more from the corner of his eye, these standing on the fringe of his screwdriver's light. They were attempting to hide like the parents did. They were poor at it.
He lead them off to the left. If his calculations where right, the door leading out of the cargo hold should be right ahead. They just had to make it there. He spotted another pair of children closing in from the right, and a single one from the left. He wasn't going to be surrounded, not now. He held his sonic screwdriver ahead of him, and pushed himself to run faster. He could hear Sarah Jane huffing behind him. He needed to make It there soon, before she ran out of steam.
Finally in the cone of his light, he could see the automatic doors sitting before him, closed. He fiddled with his screwdriver's settings for a second, and pressed the button. With a whine the green tip blinked a few times, and the door ahead slid open. The group charged ahead, passed another trio of cherubs awaiting them near the door. As the last of their group exited the hold, The Doctor hit the door with his sonic tool again, shutting it in the face of the hungry children. Almost instantly he heard light tapping against the door, then a sorrowful crying like that of an upset toddler. It would be heartbreaking, if it didn't belong to a monster.
He bent over, his muscles burning, taking labored breaths. It was quite the work out, running from Weeping Angels. Next to him, Sarah Jane did the same, moving her messy hair out of her face.
"I'm way to old for this," she smiled tiredly.
"So am I," he said back. He didn't know what she was complaining about, he was over two thousand by now.
"'Least you get a new body at the end of this," she countered gently.
"It's not the blessing it's made out to be, believe me." The pair switched off their lights.
"Alright," Dawson puffed, "where are we going?"
"Up the stairs here," The Doctor pointed. After their brief rest, they walked that way, starting up the steps. All that greeted them thus far was a glass box with a fire axe inside, even though The Doctor expected to find an army of Weeping Angels at the landing. They turned the corner. His fear was realized.
One stood right at the top, it's face exposed, clawed hands outstretched. The angry glare in it's eyes told him it was probably the brood mother of the children downstairs. She wasn't happy he had let them starve.
"Keep watch on it," The Time Lord ordered, "We need to get passed this one, get down that right-hand hall without it following us."
"How are we supposed to do that?" Ursula worried.
"I'm open to suggestions."
"Move," Dawson shouted, shoving passed him. The burly engineer held the fire axe from the box behind them in his hands, stalking toward the monster. "You said we can't kill them like this right? Maybe we can slow it down." He stood back and took a mighty swing.
With a loud clunk it's stone head flew from it's shoulders, smashing against the wall and rolling down the stairs. The Doctor blinked, shocked. No one had ever done that before. Truthfully, he didn't think Dawson had that amount of strength to do that to an Angel. Even bullets had a hard time knocking them apart. The only way he knew od to kill a Weeping Angel was complete annihilation such as blowing them to pieces, or incinerating them until nothing remained. He didn't know if what Dawson did would slow it down, or even possibly kill it. Either way, it impressed him.
"Come on, let's go! Good show Dawson," he complemented. As they moved up the stairs, Dawson put his foot in the creature's back shoving hard. It tumbled forward, flopping down the staircase, and he then followed.
They rushed down to the end of the hall, entering through a pair of double doors. They found themselves in the ship's kitchen. A very high tech space, it had top of the line cooking technology. Multiple nuclear ovens made of stainless steel, sat on one wall, able to cook food in a matter of seconds. Multiple subzero fridges and freezers sat around the room, these too reflective. All of the cabinets were flashy metal, as were the appliances.
"Here we are, the one room the Angels cannot go," The Doctor said, throwing his arms out wide.
"Why not? I don't..." Katrina started.
"Because everything here is like a mirror," Ursula muttered.
"Exactly, so clean you can see yourself," The Doctor smirked, tapping his reflection in a cabinet.
"Your clever," Sarah complemented.
"Always. We can rest here for awhile. Maybe find some food... I have a sudden craving for fish fingers and custard."