Chapter Eleven:
Doctor's POV
He, Amy and Rory returned to the TARDIS, deciding to ditch their wedding. "So, as a wedding gift, where would you like to go?" He asked, racing the TARDIS, "We could go to the depth of the Atlantic ocean or the first Anti-grav Olympics. Honestly, I rather like the Anti-Grav Olympics. I stole a motorbike from there. Oh, I know! We could—" He stopped himself midsentence, his eyes widened. "Oh dear."
"What?" Amy asked, a bit concerned. "What's wrong?"
"I seem to have forgotten someone very important," he said, typing into his typewriter frantically. "Someone really, very important."
"Who?" Rory asked, "River? I think I saw her at the party."
"No, not River," he turned to two newly weds, a frown etched on his face. "Where's Hazel?"
A collective silence fell between the three and he continued to type, "She's not showing up in the system, it's like she's never existed."
"Maybe she's flying somewhere?" Amy suggested, but he shook his head, he had already hacked into the satellites circling the globe and any other CCTV camera.
"There's no suspicious movement there either," he gritted his teeth. "If I had something of hers, I could do a DNA scan."
"What, like a shirt she wore?" Rory asked, but he shook his head again.
"No, no. Something she grew, like a hair or a—" He paused, digging through his top pocket.
"Like what?" Amy asked as he pulled out the unnaturally large feather.
"Like a feather!" He smirked, mentally thanking her.
"Why do you have her feather on you?" Rory asked, suspicion rising in his voice.
He rolled his eyes, placing the feather delicately on the scanner, "She gave it to me," he answered. "For good luck, apparently, and I have to say, it certainly is lucky." He quickly got a match, and wasted no time flying over in the TARDIS.
"So, where is she?" Amy asked once they had landed.
"Empty cabin in the middle of nowhere," he answered, going to the door. "She's probably asleep or something," he said, opening it and stepping out, "So be—" he stopped himself staring at what sat in front of him.
Hazel was tied a wooden chair, her wings duck taped together, but you could see blood staining the silver tape in several places. Her mouth was gagged, refraining her from speaking and her arm was bleeding as well. Her wrist bent into a unnatural angle. Her face was bruised and bloody, one of her eyes swollen shut. She looked completely in agony, but as soon as the three of them stepped in her vision, she flinched, but glared at them anyway, her finger twitching every now and then.
"Oh, my god," Amy gasped as the Doctor began to untie the girl from the chair. "What—?!"
"We were never in your backyard to save her," he answered, his eyes full of anger. "What ever was chasing her got to her when we couldn't."
Once she was out, they quickly brought her into the TARDIS, the Doctor easily parked her to orbit the earth, and then rushing her to the Sick Bay.
Suddenly, she jerked in his arms, her wing moving, only to have her gasp in pain, squeezing her eyes shut, "Don't move," he ordered, as they entered the room.
He laid her carefully on the bed as Rory began to check her vitals and chest. "She's fine, mostly. There's bruising near the chest and... I think she broke a rib," he moved to her arm, "Her wrist is definitely broken, don't let her move it, and her arm has a cut on it too..." he went to her excessively bleeding leg. "Her leg's bleeding and... There's a bullet hole in the back of her thigh... She was shot, but there's no exit wound... I don't think the bullet's still there though." He went to check her face, "Swelling on her right eye and a lot of bruises."
"What about her wings?" Amy asked, biting her nails.
Rory nodded, going to her wings, but as soon as he touched it, she hissed, moving away. Her entire body shook, and she rubbed her wing, somehow trying to claw through the adhesive and rubber. "I can't look at them with the tape," Rory sighed.
He whipped out his sonic and sonicked it, causing the tape to slip off. "How'd you do that?" Rory asked.
"Vibrated the atoms in the adhesive until it evaporated away," he said, beginning to take the un-sticky tape off.
Her wings were a mess, blood coated her brown and black feathers, her right wing was bent at a awkward angle that he could barely touch, and there was a small bullet holes in the same wing, where she had been shot.
"Oh, Hazel," he sighed dismally as Rory checked her wing.
"Definitely another bullet wound and she broke it... It's fixable, though. Should heal over time..." the Doctor nodded.
"I'll have the TARDIS put her in a stasis chamber, it'll help heal her wounds," he nodded, typing something into the computer. "She should be fully healed in a few hours, but for now she needs to rest." He tapped her forehead, mentally shutting her down.
"Do you have morphine or some pain killers? It should help her sleep better," Rory suggested, and he nodded, searching through the cabinets, tossing the man medical supplies, which he barely caught.
After she was all set up, he ushered the two out of the room, so she could sleep peacefully. Amy argued this at first, but after a bit of persuading from her husband, she agreed, and three left the girl to sleep.
••••/•-/-••/•/•-••
Third POV
The Doctor received an alert from the TARDIS signaling that Hazel had awoken. Amy and Rory had already been sleeping and he was tinkering in the bottom level of the TARDIS.
He decided against going to wake the others up and hurried down the hall and to the sick bay. He slowly opened the door, "Haz—" his words were cut short when a sharp blade raced past his face, hitting the edge of the door.
"That was a warning shot," Hazel's cold voice stated, her back turned to the door so she wasn't facing him, but she moved to get up and stare at him. The swelling on her face went down significantly only leaving bruises and pink lines from cuts. "Next time I won't miss."
"Hazel—"
"I am only going to ask this once," she continued, crossing her arms across her chest, a sharp pain going through her injured arm, but she didn't show any signs of complaint. "Who are you and where am I?"
"I'm the Doctor," he said quickly, pulling the knife out of the wall, dropping it on the ground distastefully. "You're in my TARDIS. Hazel, something happened, the universe kind of got rebooted, you probably don't remember me but—"
"You're from the School?"
"No!" He shook his head frantically, remembering her somewhat vague description of the School. "Never—"
"How do you know 'Hazel' then?" She demanded, "How'd you know that name?"
"You told me," he replied, trying to take another step, but she quickly brought out another knife.
"Stay where you are if you don't want a knife lodged in your skull," she warned with a slight growl, and he rose his hands to surrender.
He sucked his teeth, "Hazel, you're my friend. You just don't remember because it never happened."
Her face twisted into slight confusion, "What?"
"I know, it sounds absolutely mad, but it's true. I'm the Doctor, remember?"
"Why would I ever be friends a man named 'the Doctor'?" She sneered, "If you know me then you should know my relationships with... Whitecoats," her voice was tuned with disgust and a level of anger that he has never seen before.
"I'm not a Whitecoat—"
"We're in a hospital and your name is the Doctor," she challenged sarcastically. "Tell me how that doesn't sound Whitecoat-ish to you, I'm curious."
The Doctor went into his pocket, pulling out the feather she gave him, "See? You gave me this," he insisted, but her eyes narrowed.
"My feathers would be all in my file so of course you would be able to get one."
He gritted his teeth, "Laura Dawner, a veterinary nurse. After being shot out of the sky, she nursed you back to health with her boyfriend," he didn't want to remind Hazel of this, but he needed someway to tell her that he wasn't a threat.
Hazel froze, her eyes widened before narrowing to slits, "How the hell do you know about that?" She growled.
"Then, she and her boyfriend were held hostage by Erasers," he dreadfully continued. "And the Erasers killed all three of them."
At this point, she was surprised. She never told anyone of that and those three Erasers were rouges, their assignments said nothing about killing the three humans, so the School never found out. That, or they just didn't simply care for that matter. So the fact that some weird madman by the name of the Doctor, one of the things she hated most in life, knew something so personal as that and claimed that she told him — willingly or unwillingly — was nothing short of astounded.
"Who are you?" Hazel asked shakily, dropping the knife, making him somewhat relax.
"I'm the Doctor," he said, stepping forwards, "And I am your friend."
-••/-/-•-•/-/-/•-•
Hazel's POV
After his explanation, I was speechless. He was apparently an alien that traveled through time and space. And, we weren't in a hospital, which would explain the lack of other nurses/doctors and the surreal other machinery that I definitely knew wasn't in regular hospitals. Apparently, the universe was rebooted causing me, and two others, to completely lose our memories of him.
"So..." He said, now sitting on the chair beside the bed. My knife was still on top of the covers, under my hand, just in case someone — or thing — decided to enter the room. "What do you think?"
"How did you find me?" I asked.
"Worldwide DNA scanner on the TARDIS's console," he replied. "I used the feather you gave me."
I nodded. "I can share the memories with you, if you want," he suggested and I rose an eyebrow. "Touch telepath. It's a time lord thing."
I nodded, hesitantly, and the Doctor leaned close and without warning banged his forehead on mines.
I yelped in shock, falling back. Memories seared through my head, memories that I didn't even know existed, that shouldn't exist. Memories that brought tears to my eyes and struck pain through my heart. Memories that made me want to laugh and smile. Memories that brought emotions that I didn't even know I was capable of having.
And I couldn't deny it, it was all true. So, I stared at the Doctor with wide eyes and my mouth gaping. "... Hazel?" He said, his voice holding a certainty for confusion.
Without warning, I slapped him. Straight across the face, making him turn and hold his cheek in pain. "Wha—"
"You bastard!" I nearly screamed, "What the hell were you thinking going off in the Pandorica like that!? You could have been hurt or–or died! You should've came to me, I could have healed you, but no! You just had to go play hero, didn't you!? Give me a fucking heart attack, why don't you!?" I huffed, sitting back on the bed, my hand still stinging from slapping him so hard.
"Are you done?" He asked, with a slight laugh. I rolled my eyes as he shifted his jaw, rubbing his cheek. "Bloody hell, that hurt. I've been slapped a lot, and that really hurt."
"Not exactly human," I shrugged a bit. "Much stronger than the normal person."
"How much?"
"Uh... To put it in words... I could probably beat 10 grown men, maybe 12." He scoffed at my exaggeration.
"Nice to see you're back," he nodded and I smirked.
"Nice to know that you're still as much as an idiot," he rolled his eyes, and I chuckled. "But really, it's good to see you, Doctor."
"You too..." He cleared his throat, now looking at me seriously, "What happened back there? Why were you—"
"Bloody and bruised?" I finished with a scoff. "Wrong place, wrong time."
"What happened?"
"Flyboys caught me — they're like Erasers with wings, specially made to take out avians. Took me to this stupid bitch that wanted me to spill some stuff on Maximum Ride."
"Did you?" I scoffed.
"I'm no snitch. And my resources are very secretive. If someone found out that I said something, I'd be killed."
"It's that serious?" I nodded, "Then, why are you telling me?"
"I... Trust you..." I mumbled but by the look on his face, I know he heard me.
"You trust me?" He rose an eyebrow, questioningly, and I shrugged, too embarrassed to say it again. "What's your real name?" This caught me off guard, and I stared at him, confused.
"What?"
"Your name isn't Hazel. What's your real name?"
"What are you talking about?"
"Hazel, don't lie to me." His stare was serious, he didn't look angry, he was just... Hurt.
I frowned at him, but finally, I sighed, my stare falling to the covers on the medical bed. "The truth is... I don't... Have one."
He frowned, "What do you mean?"
"I mean, I don't have a 'real name'. I wasn't given one," I scoffed, twisting my fingers over the blankets. "The Whitecoats called me 'Subject 63-1a', Laura knew me as Destiny, you call me Hazel. I probably have, like, twenty others that I use because if I keep the same name too many times..." I trailed off.
"They would have a better chance at finding you," the Doctor finished. "So your name isn't Hazel?"
"My name is whatever the hell you want to call me," I shrugged. "It's just a title. A name doesn't describe a person. It's what you do that counts."
The Doctor gave me a proud smile, "Who told you that?"
"No one," I replied, "I learned it for myself."
His smile grew, "You're a smart girl, Hazel."
I smirked, "Ditto."
He laughed, "Are you hungry?"
"Starving," I replied. "But I didn't want to exactly move since my arms are full of needles — which, by the way, very bad idea. It's taking every single urge in my body not to scream right now."
He rose an eyebrow, "You're afraid of needles?"
I rolled my eyes, "I grew up in a dog cage and was experimented on. Yeah, I'm scared of needles, sue me."
He scoffed, "They're making sure your getting morphine and other painkilly stuff, so they gotta stay."
"How much morphine? I feel fine."
"Rory gave you three times the normal amount, just in case."
I shrugged, "I don't feel it, besides," I swung my legs out of the bed and moved to stand up. "I don't need—" as soon as my feet touched the ground, a flood of nausea came over me. My knees turned to jelly, and I nearly collapsed on the ground, had the Doctor not caught me.
"What were you saying?" He asked smugly and I weakly hit him on his arm.
"Shut up," I hissed, moving back on the bed. "Rory probably just gave me too much."
"You should sleep it off," the Doctor suggested, but I shook my head.
"I feel fine," I muttered with a small pout, but the Doctor was having none of it.
"Sleep or I'll put you to sleep," he warned, but I rolled my eyes.
"Fine, whatever. But I'm not doing this because you said so."
"Whatever you say, Hazel," he chuckled, leaving the room with me falling into my dreams.
•••/•-/•••-/•
I was standing on top of a bright green hill with small flowers that bloomed through the green grasses in small patches. I could hear birds singing in the air that harmonized with the bugs chirping. Soft clouds floated across the baby blue sky that occasionally passes over the sun, blocking out the soft rays of sunlight.
"Destiny?" Laura's kind voice called behind me. "Destiny!"
A smile grew on my face at the sound of her silky voice, "Laura," I called back, turning around.
And suddenly, everything looked like hell.
The green grasses were shriveled up around my feet, creating a large patch of yellow, dead grass. The sky was no longer blue but a morbid blood red. The birds that were once singing so happily were falling out of the sky, their necks bent at unnatural angles.
"Destiny!" Laura called again, her silky voice replaced with a desperate tone as if to call out for help.
"Laura!" I called back, running up the hill, but suddenly my feet began to sink into the ground. I look down to see my feet encased in a red liquid. Blood.
"Destiny!" Laura's voice called again, now sounding like a scream of bloody murder.
"Laura!" I screamed back, now shoving off my jacket that held back my wings. I tried to flap so I could fly to her, but it didn't work. That familiar feeling I felt when the wind went through my wings weren't there.
Shakily, I looked back to see my wings, weren't wings anymore. It was just a bone, the skeleton of my wing, and my feathers laid separately on the ground, as if I just shook them off.
I gasped, turning back around to see Laura, or at least the hellish version of her. Her eyes were gone revealing soulless pits, her neck held a long, jagged line, with blood still somehow pouring out of it. Her entire stomach was gone, leaving a gaping holes, and in her hands held a small person. An unborn baby.
"You were supposed to save me," she whispered, and fell to the ground, but I move to catch her as she fell.
When I looked back down, Laura was really Amy. Her ivory skin gone pale, her lips blue. Her forest green eyes where dull, glazed, and seemed to stare into the deepest hell of my soul. Her mouth open, as if she were screaming and a hand covered her lower abdomen. Underneath it was a blossom of crimson red blood.
"A–Amy?" I said, in a hushed, scared whisper.
A single tear gathered in her dead eyes and rolled down her face. Her mouth began to move, like a puppet's would when their master controls it, and out spilled monotonous whispers that seemed to chant in my mind, "You were supposed to save me."
"Amy—"
"You were supposed to save me." The chant seemed to grow with every word as more voices joined along, some I knew all too well, others I thought I would never hear from again.
"I couldn't—"
"You were supposed to save me."
"You were already dead. There was nothing—"
"You were supposed to save me."
"I tried to, I really did but—"
"You were supposed to save me." I felt like the entire world had weighted itself on my shoulders. I didn't save Amy and now look what I did! Everything burns because of me! Because I didn't try harder, because I couldn't try harder! I didn't succeed, I didn't do better, and now everyone has to suffer for my mistake.
I was supposed to save her, and I failed.
"... I'm sorry..." I finally said, a tear streaking my cheeks helplessly dropping on hers.
"You were supposed to save me."
-/•
"Hazel!" The Doctor called and I shot straight up, gasping hungrily for air. A hand held my chest as I tried desperately breathe. My heart felt like it was going to beat out of my chest as fear coursed through my body.
"Hazel, it was just a nightmare," The Doctor said, who was sitting by my side.
I opened my mouth to say something, but no words came. My throat choked up, and sweat dripped off my forehead. My hands became clammy, "Hazel, talk to me," the Doctor said, sounding very worried.
"I'm fine..." I finally said, "I'm fine. It was just... It was just a nightmare..."
The Doctor stared at me as I tried to calm myself down, "You wanna talk about it?" He asked.
"No... I'm," I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "I'm fine." I looked around, trying to ignore my still shaking hands. "What time is it?"
"Well, the TARDIS doesn't exactly..." He trailed off, "It would be around eight A.M. in London."
I nodded, rubbing circles on my wings, "If you want to go back to sleep then—"
"No!" I shouted, my eyes grew wide before looking away at the ground, twisting my fingers. "I–I mean, I'll just get ready for the day and make some breakfast, or something."
The Doctor rose a questioning eyebrow, but nodded, "I'll leave you to get dressed. You remember how to get back to the kitchen, right?"
"Yeah," I gave a small nod, and he got up and left to room, leaving me to get dressed in silence.
-•/••/-•/••••/-/-/•-/•-•/•/•••
When I came into the kitchen, the Doctor was already sitting at the table, a bowl of... Unknown substance sitting in front of him. "Good morning—... Well, actually, it's not exactly morning. The TARDIS doesn't exactly have morning or night, in the time vortex — that's where we are now — it's more of a mixture of every second single in reality..."
"Okay, then good time-after-you-woke-up too," I nodded with a small smirk and going to the seemingly endless fridge. My eyes seemed to fall on one thing that made them widen to saucers, "'Pancakes'!?"
I snatched the red and orange pancake out of the fridge and set it one the counter, the grin not falling from my face. "You have pancakes?!"
"Uhm, yes?"
"I love pancakes!" I grinned, pulling out a bowl and a spoon.
"You do?" I nodded eagerly, and he laughed.
I began to put the mix in the bowl, followed by a bunch of water, "Shouldn't you be measuri—"
I gasped loudly, "You have spices!" I dashed to the other side of the kitchen, grabbing several spices that I deemed worthy out, and then going back to the bowl and pouring those in as well.
"Hazel, I really think you should measure—"
"Do you have chocolate?" I asked, "I once had these pancakes with chocolate inside of them, I didn't even know that was possible!" I went to go back and raid the cabinets.
"Uhm, yes, we do but, Hazel—"
"Found it!" I declared, sprinting back over to the bowl, and dropping the chocolate bar inside the liquids substance. Then, I turned the stove on, placed a skillet on top. Then, I poured my concoction into the skillet and waited for it to cook.
"Hazel..." The Doctor sighed deeply. "I don't think you should—"
"You know, I never actually had the chance to make pancakes before," I interrupted him, with a small smile. "The first thing I had when I escaped the School was pancakes. They were cooked by a local café about a few states over from the School. When I came in I looked like... Well, a mess. I was dirty and exhausted and didn't know a single thing about the outside world. Luckily, I stole a hoodie from the back of some guy's pickup, so she didn't see my wings.
"When I came in, she thought I was kidnapped or something, I was only about nine or ten at the time. I sat down and asked for food, I didn't know that I needed money to buy it either. The lady who owned the café was Nan Butler. She put a plate of hot pancakes in front of me and a cup of orange juice and let me eat for free," a smile broke out on my face, and I let out a soft laugh. "She tried to get me to tell her what happened to me, but I refused to tell her. When I finished, she gave me sixty dollars, after explaining currency to me, of course, and let me leave."
I looked back at the Doctor, who was silently listening to my story, "So, anyways, thanks a lot. I probably won't get them nearly as good as Nan's though," I paused. "Oh, sorry, were you going to say something?"
"Ah no, I wasn't—... You just, make your pancakes," he stammered, looking back down.
I shrugged, and turned back to the stove, ignoring the burning smell that seemed to radiate from my food.
••-•/•-/-•/-•-•/•-/-•-/•/•••
"Do you even know how to make pancakes!?" The Doctor nearly shouted, as he tried to fan away the growing fire on the stovetop.
"It looked fairly easy!" I huffed, sitting on the chair as the Doctor dumped the burning pan in the sink and then turning it on full blast.
"Can you even cook?!"
"... Maybe...?"
"Maybe?!"
"Apparently, it's easier said than done!"
"You nearly burned down my TARDIS!"
"Hey! I didn't mean to—" I cut myself off when the stove began to catch fire, again. The Doctor was quick to react, pulling a fire extinguisher out from a cabinet off to the side, and spraying the stove top.
The Doctor glowered at me, but I was too busy giggling my head off. "What's going on in here?" Amy asked as she and Rory stepped into the kitchen. She must've seen the steaming stove and the smoking skillet in the sink because her mouth turned into a frown. "What is going on? Why do I smell smoke?!"
I began to laugh harder causing the two to stare at me. "What's up with her?" Rory asked, "In fact, why are you even out of bed?! You're still hurt!"
"I–I'm fine," I wheezed, wiping tears from my eyes.
"What did you two burn?" Amy asked concernedly.
"Pancakes," the Doctor grumbled bitterly. "Hazel wanted to make some all by herself!"
"I was close!"
"You nearly burned down the entire kitchen!" He hissed, "And you would've if I didn't step in!"
"Where are my pancakes?" I asked.
"'Pancakes'? You mean pile of ashes?!"
"Yes!"
"In the rubbish bin!" I glared at him, glancing over at the silver bin, and sure enough, my pancakes were on top. "I'll make pancakes."
I puffed out my cheeks, turning away, "I don't want your pancakes!"
"Well, then I guess you're not getting any pancakes then!" I turned back to glare at him, just as he did as well. We were able to keep perfectly straight faces for a full thirty seconds until finally, we both broke out into giggles.
"What are we even doing?" I asked between gasps.
"I don't know..."
Amy rolled her eyes, "Well, if you two are done goofing off, I'm hungry, so I'll be making pancakes."
I nodded, having to sit down on one of the spiny bar stools, holding back further giggles. Rory came beside me, placing a hand on my head. I flinched, crinkling my nose, "Ugh, sorry. It's just... You still smell like a Whitecoat," I muttered, moving back.
"Oh, right. Sorry," he answered awkwardly and cleared his throat. "You're warm, so you're probably running a bit of a fever."
"Fever?" I scoffed lightly, "I'll be fine." I grinned, spinning away. "What's on the plan for today, Doctor?" I asked, leaning against the marble platform.
"Today," he began, leaning across from me, letting Amy cook. "You're going to stay here and let yourself heal."
I frowned disapprovingly at him, "While you three do..?"
"We're going out. There's a ship called the Starship Enterprise that should be going on its first round right about now. There's a lovely view of Horse Head nebula there as well and its great in the winte—"
"No!" I frowned at him, "Not fair."
"What?"
"That! You three get to go out and see a gigantic ship and look some horse thing and I have to stay here and heal!? Not fair," I frowned, crossing my arms over my chest. "Besides, I only needed a bit of sleep. I should be fine now."
"You're still bloody and bruised, Hazel," Rory frowned. "You shouldn't even be out of bed right now."
"I'll heal quickly. Besides, we're just going to see a starship-thingy. It's not like were jumping into the heart of a volcano. What's the worst that could possibly happen?"
•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•-•
Edited: 1/22/17