Still reeling from the awesomeness of Asylum of the Daleks…and super pumped for Dinosaurs on a Spaceship! Looks like a great line-up of guest stars, and Rory's dad! We get to meet Mr. Williams senior, the Doctor's…grandfather-in-law? Haha, that's weird…Anyway, I suppose you all want to read my silly fanfiction in the meantime, so here it is!
Dobby's Polka-Dotted Sock
Chapter Fourteen
"We're here," River announced, blaster in hand as she charged for the door.
"What, are we in his flat or something?" Amy asked, a little alarmed at the prospect of simply bursting into John Smith's bedroom.
"No, we're in London," was the answer as her daughter nudged the door open and carefully stuck her head out. "Some distance away from him."
"Uh, why?" Rory inquired, taking the stairs down to the front doors. "How's that any good?"
"Because of that," River replied, pointing up at the London sky. Amy joined them hesitantly, apprehensive of what she might see. She was right to be.
A massive ship loomed overhead, casting the city in shadow. The center was mostly spherical in shape, with strange spikes jutting out.
"O…k," Rory started. "That's something…not good. What is that?"
"Is that it?" Amy asked as well, unable to take her eyes of the intimidating thing. "That's the Sontaran ship, yeah?"
"Yes," River breathed. "They'll be tracking any moving vehicle—especially something as rare as the TARDIS. I had to put her down here or we'd be leading them straight to him."
Their daughter stepped out onto the deserted street and they followed. So they had to find John Smith, find him and then…
"River? What are we going to do when we find him? That ship will still be up there, and we don't have him to make it go away," Amy pointed out, Rory nodding along with her words.
"And they said they have a companion of his. Does that mean that there's a person up there with them? What are we going to do about that?" He added.
"Most likely there is. Something has to be done, dad, but I'm not sure—I don't know—"
"And hang on," Amy interrupted, "How are we going to convince John Smith to come with us to safety? And what if—"
"I don't know, mum! I don't know!" River snapped, whirling to face both of her parents, the blaster clenched tightly in one hand at her side. "I'm trying, but- I'm not- I don't come up with plans on the fly. He did. And I can try, but—"
Amy and Rory looked down, ashamed of having pressured the woman. Their daughter was brilliant, but she was right; this whole mess barely played to any of their strengths, not without the Doctor there to set them in motion. The man with a plan, with respected things in progress. He always pulled them through.
But this time nothing was certain.
The blonde woman had collected herself, and appeared to be in deep thought. "It doesn't matter how, we just need to locate John Smith and make sure he stays put. There's enough going on as it is without him—and whatever the Sontarans think, he's not the Doctor. He'll get himself killed if they find him."
They nodded in agreement. Whatever was usually expected of the Doctor, they couldn't rely on John Smith to deliver. This would have to be something they undertook alone.
"You two will keep an eye on him while I take the TARDIS up to the ship," River continued, and they stared at her as if she'd gone well and truly mad.
"What for?" Rory asked, dumbfounded.
"To save an innocent life, father," was the calm response. "Once whoever the hostage is is safe within the TARDIS, I'll do what he taught me. I'll give them a choice."
"Between what?" Amy requested, feeling an uneasiness at River's words.
"They can either go back to where they came from," she replied, and seemed incredibly reluctant to tell them the rest. "Or I can take them with me to meet their Maker."
"No!" Rory shouted immediately, and Amy was not far behind.
"You can't! River, you'll die!"
"It's insane, you- you just can't!"
"All that stuff with the Library wouldn't mean anything—River, you're alive—"
"And sometimes living is worse!" The professor exclaimed harshly, causing both her parents to flinch. "If this is the life I have to lead from now till I die- then I don't want it. I thought you would understand at least, mum."
Her daughter's eyes pleaded, beseeched her to see why, why River Song would ever possibly consider doing this—
And she did. She knew exactly why. Because she hadn't been nearly as strong as River, she hadn't lasted half as long in that terrible dream where she'd only had a best friend with the greatest death wish in the world by her side. Because what was the point of it- any of it- if there wasn't…
"Fine," Amy said quietly, Rory turning to her in shocked horror. She met her daughter's gaze right on, daring her to defy her next words. "But not alone."
"Mum—"
"No, you will listen, River Song, and you will listen good. You are my daughter—our daughter," she looked to Rory who slowly nodded in consent. "And if you think any of this modeling or- or- life will be worth it for us without our own family, then you are wrong. We are in this together, got it?"
Her daughter was blinking wet eyes rapidly. "Thank you," she whispered, and all three moved at once to embrace each other. It could be the last time.
"We're the Ponds," Rory murmured.
When at last they pulled apart, Amy wiped at her eyes and brought a grin to her face. "Come along then, Ponds," she quipped, "We've got a human to find."
"You never know," her husband commented as they ran down streets, "the Sontarans could decide they're bored of destroying planets and go home."
And despite what hung above them and possibly in their future, the Ponds laughed.
OoO
"But- there's no such thing," Ron stammered, eyes wide and locked on the large floating craft. "Space ships- like- like that don't exist!"
"Well someone didn't get the memo, because that thing is a space ship!" Donna barked in reply before pinching the bridge of her nose between two fingers in exasperation.
"What's it doing here, then? What's it for?"
"I think it's looking for something," John answered, watching as it slowly moved over the city. "See how it's moving almost in rows. It's searching for something, which means—oh."
"What?" Ron and Donna chorused together, and John glanced at each of them quickly.
"Well, it means that being on the open road perhaps isn't the safest plan," he informed them. They all stood there a moment as the words sunk in.
"Come on, then!" Donna ordered, grabbing them each by the arms and running around the corner, trying to stay ahead of the space craft, down quite a few streets and into the nearest public building. "Oh, all this running," she moaned as they leaned against an unoccupied table. "It's way too hot for this. Bloody hell, I'm roasting."
"I'll buy you a water," John offered as he worked to get his breathing back to normal. He took the opportunity to properly take in their surroundings; a quaint little café with soft music playing over the sound system, not very many patrons, and—"Aaron!"
The boy, sitting at a back table by himself, hunched over something, jumped practically as if he'd been electrocuted. A panicked gaze met John's as the teenager squeaked, "John!"
Hm, he'd thought Aaron had finished with that stage of puberty.
"Aaron, good to see you here! Least we know where everyone is—sorry, Ron, bad subject. Everyone except Molly. That's the somewhat good news." He tried for a reassuring smile, but Ron was looking downcast at the latest reminder of their missing friend, Donna was still gasping for breath, and Aaron was still just staring. Pick of the lot, he had here!
"Unfortunately," he continued as no one else had spoken, "there is now a giant space ship outside scanning the city of London for something."
"Excuse me, young man, but what on Earth are you talking about?" An older woman behind the register asked, quite bemused.
"Oh my God," he heard Aaron's hushed exclamation, "It's really—"
"I'm not talking about anything on Earth—least I don't think," he corrected. "I'm talking about something above the Earth, right now. Go ahead and look for yourselves!" The few patrons, including Aaron rose to gape out the window. He was sure they would have all started talking if the radio hadn't crackled.
Once. Twice. The music died. And then something else happened entirely.
"Citizens of the Planet Earth: This is Srath of the Sontaran battle ship currently above you. But the humans should have no fear- for fear is a disgraceful weakness. There is a reason for which we will call off the impending attack," spoke an accented voice with harsh articulation, and everyone in the café was looking up at the loudspeaker in bafflement. "Your destruction, though we would take great pleasure in it, is not our objective. Today."
"Destruction!" Someone said in alarm and all at once people started talking loudly and over one another.
"What's a Sonteran?"
"Sontaran," Donna corrected in irritation, rubbing one of her temples.
"But aliens don't exist!"
"There's a spaceship, obviously they do!"
"Are these the same ones that did that thing in the Sahara?"
"That was a hoax!"
"Well, that isn't!"
"Shut up, or we're not going to hear what he says next!" Aaron scowled at them all, and the room of adults quieted under his stony face. He gave a satisfied smirk and turned back to the loudspeaker, but John noticed his eyes kept flickering back…to him.
"I am now addressing the human who goes by John Smith."
John froze in surprise, practically feeling Ron, Donna, and Aaron's stares. A giant spaceship above them with hostile intent, but first some aliens wanted to have a chat with him?
"We are displeased with you, Mr. Smith."
"What did you do?" Ron demanded almost automatically, but John could only open and close his mouth in speechless shock. He hadn't done anything! Now all the occupants of the café were looking at him, Ron having identified him with his question. Some had expressions of wonder, but most were looking on him with fear or suspicion. He turned nervously to the loudspeaker, waiting for some sort of explanation.
"The Sontarans are aware of your felicity for running from battle," the voice continued, "but to outright hide yourself—even from you—and become a lowly human? It is an outrage! The coward's way out- you were many things, Mr. Smith, but the Sontarans grudgingly admit that cowardly was not one of them. But this was a cowardly act."
"What's he talking about—'become a human'?" Ron asked, and he looked at him helplessly. John was lost under all these accusations and interrogations. How was he to know what they were talking about?
"But we shall do you a service, Mr. Smith. An opportunity to regain your honor before the last. Does whatever lowly place you've retreated to have visual, Mr. Smith?"
John was more preoccupied with something else the alien had said. "The last—what last? What do you mean?"
"Visual?" Ron was asking.
"He means can he see them?" Donna clarified from her spot still leaning her back against the table. "A television, a phone—something with a screen!"
"I- I have a smart phone," a man offered, reaching into his pocket.
"No, but hang on, he said last!" John reminded. "Is no one else concerned by—"
"Oh my God!" The man with the phone gasped, almost dropping the device. Aaron snatched and looked at the screen, giving a gulp.
"You might want to prepare yourself," he warned, passing John the phone.
John stared. It was an alien. A real, proper alien. An alien that looked like a potato! He almost laughed aloud at that comparison, but thought at the last minute that it might not be prudent.
"Our original intent upon learning of your spineless actions on the Library planet—"
"How is restocking shelves spineless?" John exclaimed, almost offended.
"He's not talking about your job- it's a planet!" Donna yelled, before wincing and bringing a hand back up to her head.
"—was to destroy the Earth, thus mercifully ending your pitiful existence." As the potato—Sontaran—spoke, John could only stare in horrified silence. Destroy a whole planet just to get him? What kind of creatures were these? And why did they care so much about him?
"But the Nestenes convinced us of the folly of this plan." He sagged against the wall in some relief. He had no idea what a Nestene was, but they deserved a thank you. "Why resort to such primitive action when we may kill you ourselves?"
"Oh," he said, the fear returning again in full force. Forget that about the Nestenes.
"Kill you!" Ron gave a terrified shout. "What, are they going to come down here and- and shoot you?"
"You will come to us," Srath contradicted, and John actually gave a disbelieving snort.
"Oh yeah, why would I do that?" He asked aloud, even though the alien would not answer.
"You will come to us like the hero so many describe you as." The screen started to zoom out so that they could see past the Sontaran. "You will come to us as an exchange—for her."
"Molly!" Ron yelled in shock. She was tied up in a sitting position, but still unconscious.
"Of course…" he breathed, and suddenly felt very tired and very scared. The earlier bravado of this morning fled, and he felt very much like John Smith- a normal human being who didn't know what to do, or he knew and didn't want to admit it.
"You are fond of this Earth Girl, yes?"
He found himself nodding, and so tore his gaze away, looking for some kind of help. Donna's knees must have buckled for she was sitting on the floor and taking ragged breaths. Something inside was screaming at him to do something, but Srath spoke again and he was forced to watch.
"She is unharmed. And she will be returned home—in exchange for you."
"No!" Aaron burst out, grabbing his arm. "You can't- they'll kill you!"
"You have an hour, John Smith. Then we shall leave the Earth to its own devices- for however long it shall survive without you!" The Sontaran seemed close to laughing, but the screen went black. After a pause, silent save for Donna's harsh gasps of breath, the soft, calm music started up again.
John numbly passed the phone back to its owner, before walking to the door.
"What are you doing?" Ron called. "Aaron's right, those things want to kill you, mate!"
"They have Molly," he murmured.
"And we have an hour," he replied, and John realized his friend was making a tremendous effort to stay calm. "We can, I don't know, think of a plan, or- or—"
"Shut it!" One of the customers hissed. "It's him or the Earth, let him go if he wants!"
"That's horrible!" Someone else remarked, aghast.
"What plan?" He responded, ignoring the others. "Who's going to think up a plan to rescue Molly from a giant spaceship and then send said spaceship far away where they can't blow up the whole planet?"
"Well, you've got to have some idea—" Aaron started.
"Me! Why me? I don't even know what they want with me!"
"No, but, Aaron's right," Ron insisted. "All that stuff I was saying earlier about you being a different person and how that was bad—forget that. It's- it's a good thing, because you knew what you were doing then."
"No, I didn't," he protested, but his friend continued anyway.
"You made it look like you did! So just- I don't know –go back to that!"
"Go back to that?" He repeated incredulously, attempting to convey just how ludicrous it sounded. "Back to what? I don't even know what that was, and now it's gone!"
"The Doctor," Aaron muttered.
"Sorry?" His head whipped around to stare at the ginger boy.
"That's what it was," he clarified, "the Doctor."
"Aaron," John started, not even trying to conceal the frustration he was feeling, "this is not the time for your school project!"
Aaron was hardly paying attention, instead walking back to the table he'd been sitting at before and picking something up. "I know," he said, "but you asked. You've got to come back."
"What do you mean?" He asked, suddenly fearful of whatever the teenager was holding. "I'm right here, Aaron."
"No, you're not," he disagreed solemnly. "I thought- I thought maybe you were, but the Professor was right…you really don't remember."
"Remember what? I don't remember a lot of things—but that doesn't mean anything."
"Yes it does! You don't get it, do you?" Aaron was shaking his head, almost in grudging amazement. "Those moments when you're acting odd- when you don't feel like yourself. That's you. This-" He waved a hand up and down to encompass John's whole body. "'John Smith' isn't you."
"Stop it," he muttered, refusing to look at the boy.
"But he's not real!"
"Aaron, no."
"You're not him!"
"Then what am I?"
"The Doctor." It wasn't Aaron who replied.
He met Donna's eyes across the room, and everything else seemed to freeze.
And then she screamed.
"Donna!" He cried, rushing to her as her hands clutched at her head.
"Oh- oh my God!" She repeated, over and over as he hovered in front of her, terrified and not knowing what to do. "Oh, my head!"
"What's happening?" Ron asked in alarm.
"It hurts!" She said, paying no attention to them. "Oh, it feels like- like I'm burning!"
"Burning!" He yelped. "Donna, please, what's happening?"
And suddenly he was sprawled on his back on the floor of the café, his cheek stinging from her slap. "What was that for?"
"I'm remembering, you space dunce!" Donna glared.
"What?" Was all he managed, flabbergasted.
"And what did I say? I said no, and you went and did it anyway. Idiot!" She had to stop a moment as a spasm of pain flickered across her face again. He scrambled to regain his footing, crouching before her.
"What?"
"Oh, brilliant!" She scoffed, rife with sarcasm. "And now you have no bloody idea what I'm talking about, because I've got it all!"
"What? Donna, got what?"
"Your mind, Sunshine!"
"She's mad!" Ron shook his head, backing away.
"It's his fault if I am!" She retorted, pointing an accusing finger and he found himself flinching. "All that Time Lord consciousness floating around the whole bloody universe with nowhere to go, and what does it lock onto? Donna Noble!"
"But- no, that wasn't—that shouldn't- this shouldn't be happening!" He struggled with the words, not even knowing what he was saying.
"Well it's happening, so fix it!"
"But- but—" John looked around for something, somebody to agree with him. But everyone in the café had backed away, leaving a giant, empty gulf with Donna and him stuck in the center. And she was in pain, so he ought to do something. But what? He couldn't do anything! "How do I help you, Donna? Because you have them- all my memories, my thoughts –I can't get to them because they're in your head!—except I'm saying this so obviously now I have them again," he was leaning in, their faces inches apart before John flung himself away.
"No, no, I don't! I don't know what that was- don't look at me like that!" He warned, for Aaron was staring at him as if in anticipation, waiting for something.
"But you do know what it is," Aaron persisted, "It's you talking—the proper you."
"It isn't! I'm John Smith, that's all I am—I'm not- I'm not—" John's protests began faltering as he took in the look of sadness and pity on the boy's face.
"Well, I'm sorry, John Smith," he spoke, holding out the object- a photo? –in his hand. "But you have to see this. You have to know."
His hands shaking, John tentatively reached for the photograph. Winston Churchill…and himself. Huh. Good old Winston.
"What does that make me?" John asked in a wavering voice. And perhaps it wasn't fair to ask an adolescent boy such a question, but Aaron bore it anyway.
"A good man," he answered simply, and indicated Donna behind him with a nod of his head, "Because she's going to die, and you're going to save her."
"Such faith in me," he remarked bitterly, his eyes finally coming to rest on Ron who was staring in confused fear at it all. "Goodbye, mate," John whispered, before turning his back to his wonderful, simple flat mate and the teenager who was dooming him. Nothing mattered now except-
"Donna," he knelt before the trembling woman who was now whimpering in pain. Prying her hands from her head, he forced the redhead to look at him. "What do I do?"
"You have to take them- transfer them," she replied in a shaky voice. "But you can't, you'll—"
"Hush, Donna. You know I have to," he offered a comforting smile. Inside, John was feeling very alone and very afraid as a stranger seemed to have stolen his vocal chords and his muscle control. Because he had no more words left, he was just waiting- like Aaron –waiting for himself to die. But his mouth kept talking anyway. "Molly's still up there with the Sontarans, and we can't have that. So please, Donna, give them back."
She gave a little stubborn shake of her head, trying to lean away.
"There's no use fighting it, they're already trying to reach me of their own accord," he pointed out, somewhat smug before sobering. "And I won't let you die."
"Alright," she gave in quietly, giving one last shudder of pain. "But this means nothing, Spaceman."
Donna Noble grabbed him by the front of his shirt and crashed their lips together.
"Donna, I'm married!" He exclaimed indignantly when they parted for breath. "Ah!" He cried in realization a split second later as she rolled her eyes. "Mouth-to-mouth transfer, most effective conduit!" So the Doctor dove back in and snogged the living daylights out of her.
They were just best friends. Really.
No, I'm not shipping the Doctor and Donna. But I felt a bit of humor might lighten the mood, and of course I had to reference all the times their relationship is called into question. So…he's back! The Ponds are in for a huge surprise! Thanks for reading, and please review!