A/N: SURPRISE. I'm posting the night before. And not just one chapter, two! wow omg insane. yeah it was like 6,000 words so i figured two is better than one.
DOCTOR WHO SEASON 8 PREMIERE IS THIS WEEKEND. And since you all are bombarding me with questions about whether or not I'm gonna incorporate Anna into it, I'll put the rumors to rest with an absolutely yes. I'll probably wait awhile for the whole season to come out so i know what i'm up against. But yeah, if ya stick around, this story might either turn out pretty rad, or pretty bad. Either way, it'll be one hell of a trip!
ANYWAYS. ENJOY.
My landing this time around is absolutely impeccable and smooth. I don't understand what the Doctor is going on about this being bad for you. It's small, convenient, and easily accessible.
I land in the Eleventh Doctor's TARDIS that was around for Amy and Rory. I actually happen to land directly behind the Eleventh Doctor who hasn't even noticed me yet. I really must be that good at this now.
I observe as he searches for something on the monitor that appears to be a Dalek ship. Oh good, I'm just in time for the part where everything falls to pieces. "Come on." He says searching, although the ship is obviously there. He must be looking for coordinates or something.
"Y'know, it's behind the moon." I say in an obvious tone. He jumps at the sound of my voice and quickly whips his head around to look at me.
I smile awkwardly at him as he gives me an annoyed look. "We don't have time for this!" He says in a huff and goes to grab my wrist; probably to send me away somewhere "safe". But I am not having him going through losing the Daleks again by himself.
I rip my wrist away from him before he can do anything and give him my stubborn-Anna look. "No way, I know more about this than you so if anything, you need me." I place my hands on my hips and cock my head to a side.
We stare at each other for a second and he narrows his eyes at me before throwing his hands up in the air. "I don't even know why I bother arguing!"
I clap my hands and move to run to the door but I instantly stop myself. "TARDIS self-destruct!" He runs ahead of me, holding up a cookie, laughing at me.
He waits for me at the door, and holds out his hand which I take. We look at each other and I honestly can't help myself. I get up on my tippy toes and kiss him on the forehead. Eleven is just so adorable at this time because his eyes haven't quite seen so much chaos and he just looks so young too!
The Doctor doesn't even say anything about it, just smiles at me and walks out the door, wringing his hands like he always does. I follow behind him and hear him say to the Daleks, "How about that cuppa now, then?"
I make sure to close the door behind me and skip up next to the Doctor.
"IT IS THE DOCTOR." One of the army Daleks says in his awful voice. Wow, no really, talk about awful. In my world, I understood that these things were not real and the voices were obviously some trick. But here, the voice is honestly terrifying. It's so mechanical and cold. Completely unfeeling. I almost shudder at the sight of them too. Sure, they were just rolling empty metal on TV. But like the voices, it just becomes too real. They are the perfect picture of hate. The ultimate villain that wasn't created by some guy in '63, they were actually made to kill real people and real worlds.
That, I shudder at.
I tune back into the Dalek conversation going on just in time to see the Doctor hold up a jelly dodger, convincing the Daleks that's it's actually a TARDIS self-destruct button.
"YOU WOULD NOT USE SUCH A DEVICE IN THE PRESENCE OF FEMALE COMPANION." Another Dalek says, making syllables obvious. I really hate that. It reminds me of when girls get into fights and they start clapping their hands for every syllable. I just don't understand why that's even a thing.
The Doctor holds his jelly dodger high, attempting to show them he's not playing around. "Oh Anna Banana? She'll bet her life on anything. Try her." The Dalek begins to roll up towards us but the Doctor hovers his finger on top of the red button, really trying to show off how serious he is. "Ah, ah, ah, ah, ah. No scans. No nothing. One move and I'll destroy us all, you got that? TARDIS bang bang, Daleks boom!" The Dalek rolls back into its place; in fear. "Good boy. This ship's pretty beaten up. Running on empty, I'd say, like you. When we last met, you were at the end of your rope. Finished." As the Doctor says all this, he strolls around a console of sorts and I run my sonic over it, sonicing for capability.
I feel the telepathic connection tell me it's practically empty. This thing must really react accordingly to your mind because I'm a pretty basic human and it really gets me. I don't even have to do that annoying setting thing the tenth Doctor does.
"ONE SHIP SURVIVED." The Dalek states. The Doctor nods his head at the Dalek, already sure of this information. "And you fell back through time, yes. Crippled, dying."
"WE PICKED UP A TRACE. ONE OF THE PROGENITOR DEVICES."
"Progenitor? What's that when it's at home?"
"IT IS OUR PAST, AND OUR FUTURE."
The funny thing is, the Daleks don't even seem that hostile. They're pretty hostile creatures but this lot seems pretty chill. Probably because they have a killer plan. Spoilers, Anna.
"Oh? That's deep. That is deep for a Dalek. What does it mean, though?" The Doctor asks, not liking not knowing their plan.
"IT CONTAINS PURE DALEK DNA. THOUSANDS WERE CREATED. ALL WERE LOST, SAVE ONE."
Yeah, okay because that totally makes sense that even after they were all destroyed they can magically still live on through this one device. That's really unfair not only to the universe, but to the Doctor because I know in my single heart that they will never be destroyed. Even though I didn't pay attention much to the seventh season, I defiantly recall the Daleks still being around. Not cool.
The Doctor taking in all the information and instantly accepting their way of survival asks, "Okay, but there's still one thing I don't get, though. If you've got the Progenitor, why build Bracewell?"
If a Dalek could blink, I'm sure it would now. "IT WAS NECESSARY." The Dalek says but not sounding as threatening as usual.
"But why?" The Doctor asks. But after getting nothing besides silence, he realizes. "I get it. Oh, I get it. I get it. Oh ho! This is rich. The Progenitor wouldn't recognize you, would it? It saw you as impure. Your DNA is unrecognizable as Dalek."
"A SOLUTION WAS DEVISED." The Dalek explains and the Doctor begins pacing across the white room. "Yes, yes, yes. Me. My testimony. So you set a trap. You knew that the Progenitor would recognize me, the Daleks' greatest enemy. It would accept my word. My recognition of you." The Doctor looks over to one of the Daleks to see it putting its plunger on something it probably shouldn't. "No. No, no. What are you doing?" The Doctor demands.
The Doctor holds out the jelly dodger in attempts to come off threatening but the Dalek still continues; ignoring the Doctor.
"WITHDRAW NOW, DOCTOR, OR THE CITY DIES IN FLAMES." One of the Daleks threatens, but the Doctor just waves him off. "Who are you kidding? This ship is a wreck. You don't have the power to destroy London."
At this point, I obviously haven't proven my usefulness. I knew all this was going to happen and the Doctor doesn't really look like he needs any comforting. Maybe I should just pop in downstairs to see if they need any help.
Silently, I type in what I believe is the building number, and do the usual time, date. It's actually kind of like google maps. But in a more spacey-wacey way.
Without saying bye to the Doctor, I hit the middle button and bop on out of there.
I land in the middle of the room with all the maps, plans, and important stuff. I smile as I see Amy and Winston talking. I stroll on up to them, happy to maybe be put to some use.
"Hello there! What's going on?" I say, smiling. Obviously she's not used to me popping in and out whenever because she just looks at me with wide eyes. "Uh, how did you… what?" She yells, confused.
I wave my hand nonchalantly. "Like I said before, it just sort of drags me around."
Well that's obviously a lie but I really don't feel like explaining that I only really know how to half use it because then I might have to get into my new upgrade and that would require explaining future me and she might tell the Doctor and okay, I need to breathe. I may be over thinking this a tad bit.
Thankfully, Amy seems to accept the answer enough to get on with the problem at hand. "We can't just sit here. We've got to take the fight to the Daleks." Amy turns to tell Churchill.
"How? None of our weapons are a match for theirs." Churchill exclaims, also clearly annoyed by this fact and a bit panicked.
They continue to talk about their lack of weapons for a bit but still fail to mention Bracewell. I don't understand, they should have mentioned him by now. Now they're getting into missiles, but again getting to the wall of not being able to launch them to the sky. Have they forgotten about Bracewell, or what's up?
Oh wait. I'm here. I keep forgetting that. I have to remember that me being here could really seriously alter some stuff and since I'm the only one with knowledge about future events, I might as well be the one to put them to action.
"Wait!" I yell; interrupting their conversation that was bound to go nowhere anyways. "You're forgetting the most important weapon. A gift from the Daleks." I say, hinting towards Bracewell, hoping they'll catch on.
After a moment they look at me in understanding and we quickly head towards where Bracewell is; hopefully not too late.
We walk into the room to see Bracewell looking down at a gun he's holding. His intentions probably not positive.
"Bracewell, put the gun down." Churchill demands, but Bracewell doesn't. "My life is a lie, and I choose to end it." Bracewell says, looking down at his broken mechanical hand.
Amy strolls up to him, not even phased by his decision when she really should be. I mean, I am. Suicide is not an okay thing, even if you are a robot created by the Daleks.
"In your own time, Paisley boy, because right now we need your help." Amy says, going up to him and looking down at the gun like she might grab for it.
"But those creatures, my Ironsides, they made me? I can remember things. So many things. The last war. The squalor and the mud and the awful, awful misery of it all. What am I? What am I?" Bracewell asks, panicked by the whole situation. But good ol' Churchill always says the right thing.
"What you are, sir, is either on our side or theirs. Now, I don't give a damn if you're a machine, Bracewell. Are you a man?"
Churchill puts a cigar in his mouth and raises his eyebrows at Bracewell as Amy gives convincing him a shot. "Listen to me. I understand. Really, I do." She says softly as she takes away the gun and sets it down carefully on the table. "Look, there is a spaceship up there lighting up London like a Christmas tree. Thousands of people will die tonight if we don't stop it, and you are the only one who can help take it down."
"I am?" Bracewell questions, probably not believing he could be helpful. I almost snort at our likeness. This time I speak up. "You're alien technology! You're as clever as the Daleks are, so start thinking. What about rockets? You got rockets? Because I think you said something about gravity rockets and theoretically being able to shoot them in space with missiles, yeah?"
Oh no, I am beginning to sound British. By the end of the week, they'll probably have me adopting an English accent.
Churchill gives me an annoyed expression. "It isn't a fireworks party, Miss Day. We need proper tactical. Oh. A missile. Or." Churchill interrupts in mid-thought, probably rethinking my idea. "Or what?" Amy asks, starting to get excited with the sound of solutions.
"We could send something up there you say?" Churchill asks Bracewell, hope written across his face. Bracewell pulls up some papers for us to look at. "Yes, well, with a gravity bubble, yes, but. Like Anna said, theoretically it's possible that we could actually send something into space."
Bracewell hands the documents over for Churchill to look at. And at one glance apparently Churchill gets it because he looks at Bracewell, proud. "Bracewell," He starts. "It's time to think big." Churchill throws the documents on the desk and we set out to work.