It didn't take me long to direct Rose to her room, the Tardis being kind enough to give me directions.
Marked by her name and an engraving of a Rose, her room is gorgeous, all different shades of pink, and fit for a princess…she told me that it's like her dream room.
Which, knowing the Tardis, is not all that surprising.
Then she wants to see mine, so we go down the hallway a bit farther, till my door appears. Unlike the first time I saw the door, the Gallifreyan is gone.
I noticed that whenever I'm with anybody else—as rare as that was before Rose got here— the Tardis would change the writing, but when I'm alone it's always the complicatedly beautiful Gallifreyan script.
Actually, she often changes everything about the room entirely, changing it to suit my mood and needs, along with my tastes. Though, a cozy room with hanging plants, lanterns and fairy lights has made an appearance several times.
Otherwise, she just seems to enjoy the chance to change things up and decorate; I'm guessing most tenants don't give her nearly as much creative leeway.
This time the door simply reads 'Faith' in English. I brace myself for whatever we're about to find as I open it, raising my eyebrows as Rose gasps in delight.
Looking around, I sigh at the ceiling in fond exasperation. The room inside is just as elegant, if not more so, than Rose's. Wooden furniture, white walls, a large bed piled high with pillows underneath a deep red canopy, a reading corner more decked out than ever, and a lavish carpet spread on dark wooden floorboards. Everything is overly grand.
It's all a bit much, to be honest.
"She's showing off," I state, leaning against the doorframe while Rose explores the large space. "I don't have a 'dream bedroom,'" I explain with a shrug, "so she just changes it up every day. This is actually the most extravagant she's gotten with it," I say, giving the ceiling an amused look and crossing my arms. The Tardis huffs right back at me in some approximation of 'you like it as much as I do!' And 'I'm definitely not showing off!'
"What, so the ship's alive?" Rose asks, turning in the middle of the room. "It's not just some—I don't know, programming?"
Nodding, I head into the room for a better look, as well, "Yeah, she's alive. Though I only get vague feelings from her. I sort of just have to translate that into what I think she's trying to get at." Remembering how Rose took the Tardis's 'getting in her mind' thing earlier, I tap my chin in thought before adding, "She's very nice though, so if you have any problems, just ask and I'm sure she'll be happy to help."
As I watch, Rose looks blankly around the room, then at the ceiling, "You know what? I'm just going to go relax in my room for a bit. I think I just reached the limit on how much alien I can take in for one day. I'll see you later."
With that, she heads back to her own room, leaving me to go freshen up and spend a few hours relaxing before bed.
————
The Doctor sees his companions off before starting to sort out Faith's phone. How on earth had he missed the fact that she isn't from 2005?
He's not quite sure, actually. Usually he's pretty fantastic at figuring that kind of thing out.
Though he won't lie, the fact that Faith didn't trust him with that information after traveling with him for as long as she has, does sting. Not that he deserves any better, after how he treated her.
Now, for whatever reason, she's chosen to open up a bit... and the fact that his words were the tipping point, does help balm the hurt a bit.
It would do no good to have a companion around who won't trust him. And in return he had to be able to trust them too; both Rose and Faith.
Something is still nagging at him: something he's missing.
He's only just gotten the phone to power on when the console sparks and his old girl lets out a disgruntled hum, causing him to look up at her with a petulant frown, "Really? Right now?"
Another piteous whine is all he gets.
With a sigh, he gets out his tools to fix up the console. At least this gives him something else to do while he waits for the girls to wake up.
Well, at least that's his plan, to work until the girls wake up.
Getting lost in the motions, focusing solely on his tasks and the gentle 'night-time' song of the Tardis. The link, both mental and emotional, soothes him after the day's adventure. Like a spouse's calming touch after a hard day's work.
It had turned into a sort of ritual. They both know she doesn't actually need that much repair work.
Occasionally, yes. But not as much as he actually does.
The Tardis just likes the attention—most of the time— and the Doctor likes the distraction.
Especially since—although it's not nearly the same—his Tardis is the only real telepathic bond he has left.
The only thing really keeping him sane.
His one and only constant companion after all the long years.
And now, with the buzz of his other telepathic bonds gone, he's shut off that particular sense almost entirely, leaving whatever is left of that nagging emptiness— along with the ghost sensations from the sheer lack of noise in the back of his head— to be ignored.
His machinations are interrupted when a walking pile of blankets and pillows enters the room— Crashes into the railing, readjusts, crashes into the railing again on the other side, half trips up the stairs and—
"Do you need any help?" he asks, eyebrows raised, taking half a step forward to do just that.
"Nope, I'm good!" comes a muffled voice. "Keep doing whatever you're doing." Saying that, she drops all the blankets and pillows on the grating in a heap.
Hands on her hips, Faith looks over her assorted chaos with a satisfied huff. Puffing and red cheeked from the effort, sure, but looking very pleased all the same.
Without seeming to realize he's not actually working—or that he's watching her—she quickly opens a grate, one that he's 79.8% certain wasn't there five seconds ago, and starts making herself a nest.
"What are you doing?" He asks, unable to help himself any longer.
"Couldn't sleep." Is her non answer.
And really, even with the added time of taking a shower, getting food, and any other Tardis explorations she happened to do, she should have been in bed at least three hours ago by his, quite frankly, marvelous calculating skills.
"…And?" He lets the word hang in the air, waiting for her to add more information as he leans over the console for a better look at her.
"The singing helps." She shrugs, having stored all but two blankets and a pillow. "I can hear it better in here. It just turns into humming the further away I get." Then she climbs one of the ladders to the upper platform and unties a section of rope, before climbing back down.
"Singing?" The Doctor repeats, mind going blank.
Again, Faith has done something a normal human shouldn't be able to do.
If he thinks about it, she shouldn't have survived on Platform One either. But he doesn't think about it. His brain just wants to skim over that detail. And for whatever reason, he allows it to do so.
"…yeah..?" She looks back over her shoulder at him, still pulling at the rope, "Why?"
"No reason, just curious." He says nonchalantly, messing with some buttons. "Most humans don't hear it like that."
It's supposed to only be on a Gallifreyan hearing range…unless, of course, his Tardis has made some sort of major exception.
Which, knowing how much the two spoil each other, wouldn't be hard to imagine.
You'd think that his Tardis had formed a crew-bond with her— just judging on the sheer amount of doting the Tardis has been showing. The same sort of fond love Tardis's are known to show all of their chosen Time Lord crewmen.
Which, as she doesn't have a symbiotic nuclei, nor is she a Time Lady, would obviously be impossible.
Regardless, it's clear that his Tardis is inordinately fond of her.
Most of his past companions—being regular humans—couldn't distinguish the sounds his ship makes, but the Tardis sings different songs depending on her mood, the 'time' in accordance to the preset sleep cycle, and even whether they were in the Time Vortex or not. It was a sort of psychological measure to help keep crew members and passengers sane in the endless halls and timelessness of a Tardis unit. Sort of like elevator music, in a way.
At least that's what Romana once likened it to…
He'd gotten offended on his ship's behalf at the time.
Lowering a hammock—that was definitely not there before— Faith starts piling in her blankets and pillow. The Doctor is still watching her speculatively.
"Any particular reason why you couldn't sleep?" he asks, starting to work again, though keeping an eye out just in case he needs to catch Faith from falling.
It feels odd; awkward, talking to her like this.
It shouldn't have. For her, there's no real gap. But somehow it feels like a space has grown. As if she's been away as long as he has.
She eyes him for a second, as she hoists herself up onto the jump seat, apparently planning on using that as a boost to get into the hammock. Then she looks away to focus on her work, "I keep having odd dreams. They wake me up. Same reason as before you left; just didn't say anything."
Without further ado, she jumps one foot into the hammock while steadying it with both her hands. Falling face forward with an 'oof' as her other foot disappears in the fabric as well. The Doctor is halfway towards the precariously swinging hammock before he realizes she isn't going to fall after all and heads back to his work, shoulders still tense from the scare Faith just unintentionally gave him.
"What're the dreams about?" he asks nonchalantly, finally starting to work again as she swings. Gathering more and more questions about Faith.
"Mmm," she mumbles sleepily, "I can't really remember them afterwards…. Just… I always end up falling. Don't…. use'ly dream the same thing twice…" the Doctor notes how the Tardis has turned down the lighting to a soft glow, making it hard for him to see what he's doing, but easier for Faith to sleep.
"You think—?" He was going to ask if she thought it had anything to do with her falling through time. Like a flashback. But she looks like she's almost out, the Tardis putting her to sleep like a mother singing to her child.
"What? Do I think what?" Faith asks, struggling to stay conscious.
"No, it's nothing." He waves it off, putting down the tool he was using.
Walking over, the Doctor brushes a hand over Faith's temple, enforcing the Tardis's song to sleep…
at least this way, one of them will be able to sleep well.
With a content sigh, Faith's breathing slows and evens into the deep rhythm of unconsciousness.
He's noticed how lightly Faith's sleep is, back before he left. A proper insomniac. It's one of the things he remembers: on those nights he couldn't take the silence, the emptiness… or when his own nightmares would haunt him.
Those few nights he actually tried to sleep…honestly, he's lucky he needs so little of the stuff.
On those nights, he'd check on her, or loiter in her room with a book, just to hear her breathing and know that at least she was alive, if no one else—
His fingers linger for just a second on the soft skin of her temples, brushing some loose strands out of her face before pulling away. This way she won't be having those dreams tonight.
She needs the rest.
He'll carry her to bed in an hour or two… In the meantime, he turns back to his work.
He can always find out more some other time.
————————
The next 'morning' finds the Doctor and Rose in the kitchen. The Doctor is rewiring the toaster—again—Rose watches him as she eats her breakfast: some jam and toast.
Rose is almost finished when Faith stumbles in, barefoot and hair still wet from a shower, wearing a sweater and baggy yoga pants. She doesn't say anything to either of the two, making a beeline for the fridge, where she stares off into space with the door open.
"Morning Faith." The Doctor greets her cheerily, seeming used to this behavior.
Faith more grunts then answers.
"Faith...? You alright?" Rose asks, perplexed at the odd shift in attitude.
Faith gives her a sleepy smile. "Good morning. I'm good." She turns back to the fridge,
"What? No 'good morning' for me, but Rose gets one?" In contrast to his mock-indignant words, he's got a smile on his face watching Faith's zombie impression.
"Just too early for talk. I need two hours to wake up before I'm ready to face the world." Faith whines before finishing with an indignant mumble, "The Tardis kicked me out of my room again…"
Rose almost snorts into her coffee at that thought. How many times has Faith been kicked out of her room?
"So not a morning person?" she asks, as Faith starts taking out random ingredients and different foodstuffs, tasting each of them and making a different face in accordance to how much she likes or dislikes each.
Rose raises an eyebrow at the rude behavior, but the Doctor doesn't seem to mind, so she says nothing of it. Honestly, it's a bit strange to actually see Faith eating anything, now that she thinks about it. Same with the chips yesterday…
Making a growing pile of foods she actually likes the tastes of, Faith answers, "I have a bad habit of staying up as late as my body will possibly allow. I'm fine getting up early if I can sleep enough, but otherwise I'm useless in the mornings."
She then opens the microwave— which shouldn't have had anything in it— but has a steaming mug of tea inside. "The Tardis is an angel," Faith whispers as she takes the cup, looking at the ceiling in awe.
The Doctor sets his chin on his palm, still watching the odd early-morning display, "Isn't that the cup that disappeared right before Scotland?"
Faith looks back down at the mug "Oh. You're right. I'd forgotten about that." She takes a sip, checking the temperature, and then gulps several long swigs before setting the cup back down, more awake the longer she works.
"So… what's with the tea thing?" Rose asks again, sure she likes a good cuppa just as much as the next, but Faith took that to new lengths. She has at least one mug a day, sometimes up to four or five.
Faith hums, still rummaging through cabinets, "Well, tea can do a lot of good…. And I'm an addict. So, I might as well know the added benefits I'm getting." She shrugs, giving Rose an excited smile, like she's just been dying to share all that she's researched, "The type I just had was black tea, mixed with cinnamon and ginger; besides the benefits and natural caffeine of the black tea, both cinnamon and ginger are high in antioxidants, so they'll keep you from getting sick and boost your immune system. Cinnamon has minor pain-relieving properties as well as being an anti-inflammatory agent, while ginger is good for soothing the stomach, and both are known to help keep you awake, alert and focused."
And if she thinks about it, it might have the added benefit of stabilizing her through this whole problem. Like the Doctor when he regenerates.
Super- heated free-floating particles and tannin— or something… helping with… something. She's certain she's got that quote wrong, but she doesn't exactly have a way to check.
Basically… Tea made him better.
Tea solves problems.
With a huff, she finally gives up her search, and turns back to the Doctor, hands clasped together and giving her best puppy-dog eyes "Doctor? Can you make me pancakes, pretty please?"
Meanwhile Rose just balks at the rapid-fire information that was just blasted at her Doctor-style, on a subject she's never even thought of looking into.
"Don't know how to cook them." He shrugs, "What's with you asking me for pancakes, anyway?"
She pouts for a second, cheeks puffing out. She only asked because future him made them, and they tasted really good that time. A moment later, she's brightening back up, "I'll just make French toast then."
It's mostly quiet for awhile after that, the only sounds being the soft clatter of cooking utensils, and the content hum of the Tardis.
She's halfway through making them when Rose pipes up again, "What's all this about then?"
"What's what about?" Faith asks, flipping a slice of sizzling egg and cinnamon covered bread in a pan with melted butter. Was she still on the tea subject? That was a good ten minutes ago?
"I don't know, you're acting different. And you're actually eating." Rose says, finishing off her mug of coffee.
Oh. That.
"Ah… I sort of had a reality check… or something," she says with a shrug, putting the last of her breakfast on a plate off to the side and turning off the stove, "I don't know. Trying to look 'glass half full' I guess… fix my food problem too, while I'm at it."
"Oh, I forgot," the Doctor stands up, digging in his pockets before bringing out Faith's phone, "all fixed up." He throws it from across the room...
…and she should have been able to catch it, in fact her hands almost get it.
Once…
twice…
The third time…. she just sort of slaps the phone with her hand. Watching in resigned silence as it clatters to the ground. She stares at it as it slides across the floor with that blank kind of expression that just says 'and this is what life gives me.'
After a good five seconds of staring at it, she picks up the abused phone and gives the same blank stare to the Doctor, who has the good grace to look sheepish. "Uh, Oops?"
————————
…The blue app is still installed, and now it lets me open it.
The notifications have also gotten more detailed since the Doctor got me universal service….
It's a scan.
A scan of me, linked to the Tardis. The app shows a body lit up at certain points to indicate where the TNA is spreading like cancer. It also shows the percentage of change for each area.
So far, the mutation is only on a superficial level— at least from what I can tell, anyway. None of my internal organs have been majorly touched. Brain has some minor mutation activity. It's mostly skin and soft tissue, along with the cartilage in my joints, that's been affected, though only just slightly. The places I've been injured are also healing over with TNA infused cells instead of human DNA. My tongue too, which sort of makes sense, as that area heals the fastest out of the body, and that also explains partially why things taste off.
Like fish fingers and custard, my taste buds have literally changed. Though, I still hold to my theory that it's also a universal difference.
Honestly all I can do is speculate. I have no solid evidence or anyway to prove my theories.
Thankfully though, I'm only at 18%.
—————
The next couple days pass slowly. Rose gets more accustomed to the Tardis and generally just gets to explore some more, though much more hesitantly than I do.
I just sort of go in a random direction and trust the Tardis's ability to get me back alright. Rose on the other hand, doesn't trust her nearly as much… which is somewhat understandable, since she doesn't have nearly as strong of a connection as I do with her, and the Doctor has one even stronger than mine.
Regardless, Rose doesn't want to head too far from the living area and console room, though she doesn't mind joining me when I explore. She says I'm better at getting us back without help or getting lost.
Really, it's just the Tardis. I'd probably never find my way around otherwise.
I did manage to rope her into a portrait session…
She said it was the most boring four hours of her life— but the painting looks amazing and looks just like her, so it was worth sitting through.
Which is sweet. Saying it looks just like her.
Even if it didn't. Not entirely. I hadn't quite captured the look in her eyes for example. And making sure she didn't look mad was also a challenge, though I did manage to paint a relaxed introspective look on her pretty face.
I'd need more than four hours to work out all the proportions and get a good likeness.
But all things considered it was pretty good.
At school, I had three or four weeks to work these things out. Though, I'd chosen a smaller value and color study size rather than full life-size; it was more like portrait club, one of the weekend activities where the students volunteered to sit… fully clothed of course.
All things considered, it turned out pretty good.
I gave it to Rose as a gift.
Art is always a fun thing to give, and the surprise on her face makes it all the better!
Other than sketching, I copy out some random Gallifreyan words that I found in a book from the library; I'm never ever, ever going to let the Doctor see those.
I also continue my own explorations, daydreaming—something the Tardis seems to really enjoy listening in and commenting on— and just watch the Doctor work. Getting antsier and antsier as the days go by.
Still, it's thoughtful of him to put off the constant adventures until Rose is settled… though I know it won't last long.
Honestly, I'm surprised he's lasted four days.
——————————
"Faith, press that blue button, push down that lever—then pump that one three times!!" The Doctor orders from the other side of the roiling console.
I do what he says, yelling, "Why did I let you two rope me into doing this again?!"
The Tardis wheezes— jolting violently, and I lose my balance for a second.
"I thought you said you enjoy the adrenaline rush??" the Doctor asks, briefly passing by as he drives, reaching over my shoulder to flip a couple more switches, before continuing to other knobs and buttons as he goes.
"I do!" I snap back at him over the wheezing cacophony, clinging for dear life as the Tardis pitches to and fro, "Just not when it's me nearly tearing a hole in the stupid universe!!"
"Oh, C'mon Faith! Live a little!" The Doctor replies, not concerned in the slightest. "—Rose! Hold that one down!"
At least that holds some form of comfort. If we were really in trouble, he wouldn't be letting us touch the console.
"I am living!! —Unless you kill us!" I sass right back, bracing myself with my feet spread wide to help my balance—
Rose snaps, "I'm holding this one down!" At the same time, and sounds just as petulant as I do.
"Well, hold them both down!" He counters, pulling a lever, "—Faith I know exactly what I'm doing! Press that button on your right—no, other right!" He chides, pointing in the general direction of about ten buttons. Thankfully the Tardis, blinking a light, points it out far better than he does.
There's a particularly rough patch and both Rose and I shriek, mine ending in a giddy laugh. Even now it's a fun ride…even if I am being contrary.
A lever and a knob light up near my hand once I've done what the Doctor instructed, and without a second thought— since I trust the Tardis with driving a hell of a lot more than I do the Doctor— I pull and then twist them in the order in which they light up.
The rolling bumps even out just slightly, and Rose and I heave a breath of relief, using the small reprieve to adjust our grips and give each other reassuring smiles.
The Doctor looks up at the time rotor, then over at me in confusion, "Did you just press something?"
"Nope!" I chirp brightly, shaking my head. There's another violent rumble and the Doctor immediately starts dancing around again. I let out a laughing whoop as the ground drops out from beneath my feet.
"It's not going to work!!" Rose yells over the heavy wheezing, bracing herself against the console, her arms are stretched as far as they will go to hold down both of her buttons.
"Oi! I promised you a time machine and that's what you're getting!" The Doctor states indignantly, "Now, you've seen the future, let's have a look at the past—1860! How does 1860 sound?" He's holding his balance much better than either of us, and as he talks he flies around the console.
As soon as he's on the other side of the oscillating Time Rotor, another three buttons light up, along with two switches… and again I do what the Tardis indicates.
The jolting changes to a heaving rock, like a ship on a stormy sea, unlike the particularly violent rollercoaster it had been just a second ago.
Taking a deep breath of relief, the Tardis sends a happy buzz into the back of my head. Like a pat on the back for a job well done.
"What happened in 1860?" Rose asks, shifting her position to a more stable one, relaxing slightly.
"I don't know, let's find out!" The Doctor grins, "Hold on, here we go!" And with that, he pulls a final lever, there's a large spark, the floor beneath our feet drops and leans dramatically to the left. The added sensation of a hard turn in a car pulls us all with it.
"Woahh!!" I yell, a huge grin on my face as we hurtle through the vortex. Rose joins in with a shriek. The Doctor gives his own whoop as he flips levers and turns dials.
A few more seconds of jarring bumps that make my teeth absolutely rattle in my skull— then the Tardis gives one last heave that sends all three of us crashing to the floor.
There's a moment of surprised silence. The Tardis vorbaling off as she settles; a sound that's somewhere between what you'd expect from a laser gun shooting, and a tight metal string swinging through the air…before all is quiet.
Until I giggle.
Rose and the Doctor join in a second later. "Blimey!" Rose laughs, as I clutch at my stomach, unable to stop.
"You're telling me," the Doctor says, chuckling along, "You two all right?"
"Yeah. I think so." Rose answers, checking herself over. "Nothing broken. Did we make it? Where are we?"
The other two pull each other up— but I just watch, still breathlessly giggling on the floor, sides starting to hurt as the other two look down at me in bafflement, both still smiling.
"You alright?" Rose asks, giggling along just as mine start to peter out. I nod, unable to speak as I gasp for air.
"Alright, up you get," the Doctor says, taking my hand in his with a large grin, Rose taking my other with a smile as they both haul me up.
Then taking me by the shoulders, the Doctor gives me a once over, queries, "Everything alright? Anything hurt?"
"I'm good." I smile breathlessly.
He smiles back, "Good," and then he spins away to check the scanner, giving a whoop at what he finds. "I did it, give the man a medal! Earth, Naples, December 24th, 1860."
"That's so weird." Rose states, shaking her head slightly as she looks over the Doctor's shoulder, "It's Christmas."
"Oh. Yeah…" I say absently, catching their attention as I tap my chin in thought, "Christmas is on the 24th, isn't it."
"How on earth do you not know that??" Rose scoffs, baffled.
I tilt my head to the side in a so-so motion, "Ehhh. Dad missed a lot of Christmases," I shrug. He'd also miss birthdays and almost every other holiday too, since he was gone for months and months. "…so we'd just wait for him. Plus, we lived overseas, so presents never got there on time, anyway. Christmas lasted a few months usually, an' sometimes we couldn't wait so we just opened presents a day early. It was kind of a variable thing."
"Well, regardless, it's Christmas right now and it's all yours." The Doctor says, giving us both a small mock bow, and a big goofy smile,
"But, it's like...think about it, though." I feel my smile grow as I watch Rose trying to express herself, "Christmas. 1860. Happens once, just once and it's gone, it's finished, it'll never happen again." She smiles, in awe, shaking her head slightly, "Except for you. You can go back and see days that are dead and gone a hundred thousand sunsets ago. No wonder you never stay still."
"Not a bad life." The Doctor answers, with a shrug,
"Better with company." Rose shoots back, smiling with her tongue between her teeth.
"Yeah. I love traveling." I smile fondly, patting the Tardis in thanks for shuttling us around, feeling very good.
The last few days of rest— mixed with a proper diet, now that I've finally started eating properly again— have done me a world of good. I hadn't realized how many trips the Doctor and I had taken until we stopped.
"Come on then!" Rose suddenly exclaims, making a dash for the door.
"Hey, where do you think you're going?" The Doctor calls out after her, causing her to skid to a halt,
"1860." She replies as if it's obvious.
I laugh a little, but wave her off when she gives me a look.
"Go out there dressed like that, and you'll start a riot, Barbarella. There's a wardrobe through there." The Doctors says, nodding in the direction of the hallway, his arms crossed, "First left, second right, third on the left, go straight ahead, under the stairs, past the bins, fifth door on your left. Faith, you too. Hurry up!"
Rose grins excitedly, running off— neither of us has found the wardrobe room, though I've tried— the Tardis always just puts whatever is best for the day in the closet in my room.
"Fiiine," I drawl, rolling my eyes good naturedly at him as I follow at a slower pace.
So far, I've avoided wearing a corset, just going for modern comfortable clothes that look like they fit in with the different time periods we've gone to... But we'll see how long that'll last with Rose here.
…It doesn't last long.
"Here. This one's for you. Once you're changed, I'll help ya with your makeup." Rose says, handing me a dress. Barely even giving me time to admire the rows upon rows of clothing from every time period and place imaginable. Coral railing showing countless floors above and below us with both an elevator, and multiple spiral staircases leading to them.
Blinking, I hold the red dress up, eyebrows raising when I notice the off shoulder cut and low cleavage line that would have me blushing if I was to actually wear it…Not to mention the corset.
Oh heck no. Not happening.
She points an imperious finger at me, a playful smile playing at her lips ruining the gesture, as she gathers up her own dress and heads for one of the many changing rooms "Don't give me that look, c'mon, we need to hurry up. The Tardis has a machine for getting the corset cinched up in the changing rooms. I already checked, so go get changed."
"Ok, ok" I agree, dragging my feet towards the changing rooms… until her own door closes with a click…
then I drape the—beautifully impractical— dress on the railing. Quickly taking up another dress that the Tardis has kindly put on a hanger separate from the others… a simple long-sleeved white blouse, black sash around the waist—
and a long skirt… baring my clan's tartan. The one that went with my actual last name.
Green, blue, and black, with just a smidge of red-ish purple.
I've always wanted to wear it. That tartan. Even if my family is American and aren't technically part of the Scottish clan, except through name.
I don't know. Maybe I'm romanticizing it, but it just seems like something special.
And now, I've given up that name…
Hearing the rustling of Rose's clothes, I quickly scoop up all the clothing, scurrying into the empty changing room next to hers.
That's when the confusion starts.
I've worn petticoats before, though those were much shorter swing dance petticoats, and I've never worn any of the other undergarments constituting to 1800's fashion.
In the end, I do the best I can… thankfully the changing room has something like a hologram tutorial.
First, a knee length chamise and loose drawers which, I decide to add leggings underneath for warmth, since it is Christmas and I'd rather not wear just the old time clothes. Comfort before fashion. Look good, yes, but I want to be comfortable too.
Next comes the dreaded corset. I set the odd machine Rose mentioned to its loosest setting— I do not want to faint or be in any real discomfort thank you very much.
Everyone else can deal with me having proper anatomical proportions instead of my guts getting shoved where they don't belong.
I'll be having enough of that once the whole second heart and respiratory bypass thing kick in anyway.
After that comes the petticoats. I opt for two, rather then the five or six suggested by the machine. They were heavy enough on their own without adding any more on top.
By this time I'm completely fed up with the process, and even with the loose-ish corset, it's still constricting.
No hoop skirt for me thanks. I read a book once where a girl sat down wrong and her hoops popped up showing everyone her underwear… as modest as this time is, I'd still rather not have that happen to me.
Another over petticoat, and finally, Finally, the actual dress.
It might be an absolute pain in the butt to put on, but looking in the mirror, I quite like it. It's a beautiful piece.
If I ever get around to painting a self portrait, I might use this…
or not.
The trouble it takes to get it on kinda outweighs the reward.
With one more look in the mirror, I step out, resigned to live with the heavy dress for the day.
"Bout time," Rose says, already out and doing her makeup at an overstocked vanity, hair up in a fancy bun, and wearing a gorgeous dark off the shoulders dress. She glances over at my less extravagant outfit and gives me a look, but thankfully says nothing about my different choice in dress.
I give her a completely unapologetic cheesy smile.
She rolls her eyes, but points off down another hallway "there's another machine for doing your hair over that way, ya just have to choose which style you want" and with that she gets back to her own makeup.
Honestly this whole process is so much more effort then it's worth… even if I do love the outfits.
Finding the clunky hairdressing machine which, sort of looks like a public photo booth only for hairstyles, I enter the small space and sit down.
Using the touch screen to select a low braided bun, I brace myself as the machine whirs to life a second later, tiny spindly claw-like metal hands unfolding from the ceiling, starts to braid my hair into the same design as I selected.
The cool metal brushing against my scalp causes goosebumps as it works… And I decide right here and now that I'll just do my own hair from now on.
Coming back to Rose after that…'experience,' I find her just finishing up, "ok, now it's your turn!" She says, turning to me with a smile.
I smile back, take a tube of lip gloss, show it to her— use it, and then pop my lips. "Done."
"That's all?" Rose asks, not at all impressed by my dramatics.
"Yup!" I pop the p with a sweet smile, spinning on my heel, "alrighty lets go!"
As I skip off, I hear Rose's exasperated sigh and then clacking footsteps from her heeled boots.
"So….you and the Doctor." Rose asks once she's caught up, a very clear intonation in her voice as we make our way back… and unfortunately for me, the Tardis isn't moving hallways to help me avoid this.
So plan b. Play oblivious.
"What about me and the Doctor?" I ask innocently,
"Are you two… like, together?" She ask, raising her eyebrows for emphasis on the 'together' part.
I snort, "you're joking, right?" She's the one who's supposed to be falling in love. "We're just friends! I don't like him like that." Can't like him like that anyway.
"I'm serious!" Rose starts, "You two are almost always together, and he's always glancing at you. Not to mention I caught him carrying you to bed one time. It was really sweet." She adds teasingly, bumping her shoulder into mine as we walk.
"Oh gosh no! He's way older then me!" I squeak, hands covering my nose and mouth. He was carrying me and she saw!! I thought it was the Tardis moving me, not him!
"Aww, your face's all red!" She laughs, poking my cheek, "Is him being older then you, your only worry? I don't think that's too bad if you like him. He is alien after all." She nods sagely, sticking her tongue out between her teeth a second later,
"But I've never been in love before!" I tell her flusteredly, "And even if he is nice— I-I can't. I just can't. And he definitely won't fall in love with me. —Anyway, I only just decided that we were friends the other day! So definitely not happening." I state more firmly at the end finally getting some of my composure back.
"Well I think it's cute." Rose laughs, taking my arm, "bet ya five quid that he compliments you on how pretty you look," she adds slyly as we round the corner.
I pout, cheeks burning. Just when I think I'm starting to get a grasp on Rose's personality, she does something weird like this. I don't get her at all.
"you look much nicer then me." I finally mumble, "If he says anything to me then it'll probably just be so I don't feel left out."
She laughs, "You are soo oblivious!"
And she's Soooo wrong. There's no way.
"Yeah, well, what about you?" I ask, turning the conversation away from myself,
"What about me?" She asks back,
"Well, what do you think of the Doctor… do you like him? You two seem to…flirt sometimes..?" I ask hesitantly.
From how the actors talked in interviews, it sounded like Rose and the Doctor fell in love at first sight, but I haven't really seen much to indicate that…
not that I'm all that good with subtle romances…
nor can I understand how people 'fall in love at first sight.'
Sure crushes, I've done that plenty of times, even if it was just admiring them from afar…
But when it comes to love I have to know a guy at least two years before I'm even considering whether I like them like that. I have to know their heart and soul first.
Again, not that I really have any experience to begin with.
Rose laughs, cutting off my reverie, "and you two don't flirt? He's like a school boy with how he messes with your hair!" She goes to demonstrate, but I duck around her reaching hand with a laugh batting her away,
"that's just us mucking about!" I protest still laughing as she tries again and fails, "now come on, what do you think of him?"
Rose sobers after a second, humming in thought, "mm, well… he's ok… for an alien, I guess. Not like anyone I've ever met, Obviously. How he handled the Nestene… he's amazing..." she pauses in her steps, looking down, and I stop too, taking note of the serious look on her face, "But he scares me too. He just let Cassandra die…" then she shakes her head, smile back on her face, "Not sure he's my type, —though I'm not judging." That last bit is directed at me again,
"Oi! It's not like that," I laugh, shoving her in the side, she pokes me under my ribs and I let out a shriek, "Ah! That tickles!!"
That is not the right thing to say.
"Oh it does? Does it?" With mischief shining in her eyes, Rose chases after me, dancing down corridors as we laugh and tease each other. The Tardis joining in on the fun at some point, as the corridors shift for sneak attacks. Sometimes making one of us disappear, only to see the back of the other or causing us to run straight into each other's back a second later.
Eventually though, we make it to the console room, laughing and slightly out of breath.
"You girls took your time" the Doctor comments when we enter; not looking up from where he's sonicing under the console, his head almost level with the floor panels, with how he's standing in a maintenance alcove.
"Yeah well, we had to figure out how to put all of this stuff on." I quip back, watching what he's doing with my hands on my hips. Hiding the nervous squirm in my stomach.
He finally looks over and I smile tightly, taking some of the skirt's fabric and giving a mock curtsy.
The gobsmacked look on his face would make you think he's never seen two girls all dressed up before.
I mean, I'm more dressed up then I've been in a long time, and I can't remember when I last wore my hair up in more then a ponytail…but still, Rose is much more elegant in her dress.
"Blimey!" He finally gets out,
"Don't laugh!" Rose points scoldingly, with a self-conscious giggle. Apparently I'm not the only one worrying about looking weird in these old clothes.
"You look—" his eyes are still on me and I raise one eyebrow, his gaze shifting to Rose, "you both look beautiful."
"Yeah, Rose does, doesn't she?" I gush sweetly, giving her a hug and enjoying the pay back for earlier. I should show her that he's got eyes only for her… show myself that too.
"…Considering." The Doctor backtracks, messing with the Tardis again.
"Considering what?" Rose asks,
"That you're human." He spits the word bitterly… still not looking at us.
I frown as a heavy silence falls. Empathizing with the Doctor's reasoning, even if I don't like his outburst. But really, what do you say to that?
Will I be like that too? Keeping short lived humans at arms length so I don't get hurt?
Great. Just one more thing to look forward to.
Thinking that, I wander to the door, deciding to avoid the Potential conflict rather then call him out on it.
Grabbing my new burgundy red jacket— which kinda clashes with my dress but whatever— I creak open the door just as Rose speaks up behind me.
"I… think that's a compliment." There's another pause before she asks, "Aren't you going to change?"
I on the other hand am enthralled by what's in front of me.
"I've changed my jumper. Come on." There's a shuffle— probably him trying to get out of the grate—
"No way, you wait here—" Rose tells Lin before cutting herself off with a wine, "Faith! I wanted to open the door!" whatever else she might have said cut off when she finds me already standing frozen in the doorway. "…Faith? You alright?"
I don't say anything. Just start bouncing on the balls of my feet. Excitement bubbling up inside my chest
"Faith?" This time it's the Doctor asking.
Letting out a sequel and yelling "it's snow!!!" I jump out the door and into the three inch white blanket.
The freezing cold air hits my face the second I'm out of the confines of the Tardis. I spin in a circle as more snowflakes lazily fall from the sky, laughing the whole time and almost tripping thanks to the snow at my feet.
"It's snow it's snow it's snow!" I squeal, jumping around. My laughter coming out as puffs of white vapor and my boots making soft crunching footprints in the sparkling white wonderland.
Finally I turn back to the Tardis, Rose and the Doctor watching me in amusement. "Doctor! It's snow!" I exclaim again a smile of pure delight on my face.
"Really? I hadn't noticed." The Doctor says, looking around exaggeratedly.
I laugh, dancing around him to place a kiss on the door of the Tardis saying "oh my gosh I love you!" In that babying way someone might address a pet or a loved one.
Then I turn back to the Doctor, huge smile still on my face and vibrating in place while waving my hands around, "Your Tardis is the best thing in the existence of ever!!"
He chuckles, seeming to feed off of my childish glee, "You act like you've never seen snow before."
"it's been years an' years!" I chirp back, only now noting Rose's look of wonder— and stop briefly to survey the setting—more than just the snow covering it, anyway. Still
smiling the whole time.
Old timber wood buildings and others of stone or brick, cobbled streets, air fresh and clean thanks to the snow and freezing cold air, though still with the undertone of farm animals, thanks to the horses, aaaand there are people about eyeing me like I'm absolutely crazy.
Which, considering there's snow, I can deal with.
Snow, real snow!
I just can't get over that!
I haven't seen any since I was fourteen! Maybe earlier! I missed it in Italy, and Florida definitely wasn't helping me any. Our part of England only ever got a light dusting, but I loved it all the same.
My smile grows and I start bouncing in place again, cheeks starting to ache slightly.
Coming between us girls, the Doctor offers us each one of his arms, grinning as he looks at both of us in turn. "Ready for this?" He asks, and we both smile up at him as we take his proffered arm, "Here we go. History!"
"To history!" I cheer along, one fist punching the air.
On the Doctor's other side Rose laughs, "To history!"
Walking a little ways, taking in the scenery and the fire-lit street lamps,
Looking up at the Doctor, I eventually work up the courage to ask a question I've been self consciously been pondering over, "I never did ask…do you like my outfit? Not too plain? Should I go back and change, then catch up with you guys?" I fiddle with the material. The self consciousness fully setting in now that I'm out in public, and actually aware of my surroundings, instead of feeding off my snow hype.
The Doctor raises his eyebrows like he's surprised I'd ask, before turning his head away to survey the surroundings, "No, you look… lovely. Beautiful."
Welp. Now I'm uncomfortable. Only one thing for it!
I heave a dramatic sigh, catching his attention again as I pout my lips out, looking up dramatically, "Considering I'm human?"
He barks a laugh, "Yeah, considering." He says in the same jokingly silly voice as I used, and we both snicker.
"And someone owes me five quid~" Rose sing songs, from the Doctor's other side.
"Oh Shut up, I never agreed to that!" I argue back with a smile, painfully aware of the Doctor's curious gaze.
"You two make a bet? What about?" He asks, looking between the two of us.
Rose gives me a knowing look, "oh, nothing!" She answers innocently, letting go of the Doctor's arm.
I stick my tongue out at her and that just makes her cackle, as she runs off ahead of us—or as much so as she can in her heels— while I drop and grab a handful of snow, throwing it without even properly forming it into a ball.
Obviously, it comes apart halfway to her, with a dissatisfying plop.
She laughs again and I pick up more snow, feeling the wet and cold through my thin decorative gloves. Fingers going numb as I chase after her, intent on shoving snow down her collar.
Someplace in between the time Rose and I devolve into shrieking, laughing children, and when we finally settle back down and head over to the Doctor's side; he's somehow acquired a newspaper.
"How'd you get that? I thought you didn't have any money on you?" I ask, taking off my soaked gloves. Rubbing my red hands together and breathing on them for warmth.
Turns out, the whole snow fight idea wasn't such a good plan when you don't have a nice warm house to go back to once the snow fight is over.
Honestly Rose is lucky I didn't follow through with my threat to put snow down her shirt…
Though that would have definitely lead to me also getting snow down my shirt, so we're both lucky.
We only have a few damp spots on our dresses from poorly aimed snowballs— Plus cold hands. Instead of really wet clothes, and melted snow running down our backs. So overall, a success.
As we walk, we pass a choir singing God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen, and I start humming along, the Doctor unfolding his paper and quickly skimming through it,
Slowing down to a stop, "I got the flight a bit wrong." The Doctor states after a second.
" I don't care." Rose states and I agree with her, skipping along and ignoring the stares I get from passers by. Stopping briefly to watch the horse-drawn carriage clack down the street… until the Doctor grabs my hand so we don't get separated.
"It's not 1860, it's 1869." He tells us,
"I don't care." Rose states again, smile still glued to her face.
"And it's not Naples." He says, a bit of disappointment under his tone.
"I. Don't. Care." Rose says again, enunciating the words, like he doesn't understand.
"It's Cardiff." He finishes flatly.
That stops Rose in her tracks. "…Right."
"I don't care!" I chirp in her place, getting a raised eyebrow from the Doctor and Rose, so I clarify,
"it's 1869, it's snowing—on Christmas, and I've never been to Cardiff before!" I spread my arms out, as if to say 'there' and then clasp my hands behind my back, "Life is good and I'm with good company!" I finish off with a nod, marching happily off in the direction we've been heading in, and not waiting for them to follow.
Eye catching on a large building I'm passing by, I point in its direction, "Hey Doctor, what's that building there?"
"That—" he doesn't get any farther as people start screaming, rushing from the very building I'm pointing out, "—is more like it! Trouble! C'mon!" With that he runs up. Grabbing my hand and yanking me towards the panicking crowd. Rose right on our heels.
We rush past the scared masses, some bumping or jostling into me in their dash for safety. Though the Doctor does his best to keep me away from the rowdy men and women. Unlike me, they easily part for the Doctor. A mix of height and presence keeping them out of his way.
Just as I'm worrying that Rose and I will be separated in the kerfuffle, we make it in.
It's a theater. Brushing through the ticket office and farther inside. Bumping and jostling all the way. All in a flurry of feathers, top-hats, coattails and petticoats. Stamping feet, panicked yelling and just general shoving. I can barely tell what's going on thanks to the press of bodies moving past me through the bottleneck narrow doorways.
All the while, a bone chilling, screaming wail echos. My ears ringing with the sound of the soul binding shrieks.
Along with the confused and frightened cries from the fleeing audience, it all adds to my fraying nerves— to the point that it's impossible to think over the sheer overstimulation of it all.
In all that chaos it takes me longer then it should to make sense of the scene.
My mind in overdrive at the sudden onslaught of sight and sound and— and feelings!
I shouldn't be able to feel their fear, the panic and confusion in the air, but I can— and that distracts me even further, having to lock down my mental walls.
But when the Doctor and Rose stop, looking up… I finally realize what's going on.
A Gelth.
The blue gaseous entity circling the ceiling in—
in agony? Is it painful? To be stuck in that in-between state?
And yet…
They lie.
They will kill, and have already killed.
I'm too preoccupied by the sight, and the ideas it inspires.
Not noticing when the Doctor lets go of my hand to get a better look.
Not until the ghost vanishes, disappearing into the pipe work, then I glance around, finding the Doctor in an argument with a man on the stage—Charles Dickens?—
Rose yelling something I can't quite catch over the screams of the escaping people.
What I do catch, is the direction Rose heads in, and who exactly she's chasing; Two people, both carrying an old lady together—
Gwyneth and— what's his name… sounds like a henchman—oh! Peter Pan! —Mr. Sneed!
Oh, I am never getting that image out of my head now.
Taking the few steps it takes to get to the Doctor's side, I tug on his jacket sleeve until I've got his attention, pointing off in Rose's direction, "Um. Yeah. I'll go with her an' make sure she doesn't get into trouble." And then I'm dashing off through the crowd before he can answer.
—Just barely making out his shout of "You two stay out of trouble!" As I run back outside, quickly searching for Rose and the will-be abductors, white puffs of air coming from my mouth as the cold stings my face.
There they are!
Taking off at a run I'm halfway there when Sneed sneaks up behind her—
No! I'm not fast enough!
Running even faster— he puts a cloth to her face. Her legs buckle, her back is still to me, but I'm sure the cloth is still covering her mouth and nose.
Taking a deep breath of the freezing air, I yell at the top of my lungs, "Oi! That's my friend! Leave her alone and step away from the hearse!" running up to them as Gwyneth and Mr. Sneed start to haul Rose into the black cart behind the old corpse.
"Really Mr. Sneed we have to stop this!" I hear Gwyneth murmur as I storm up.
"Hush girl! You'll do as I say!" The old man snaps back at her, taking for granted that I won't hear them— or maybe not caring.
Listen to me darn it! "Put her down! What the hell are you doing with my friend!?" I snap again, storming up and preparing to haul Rose outta there, even if I've gotta carry her on my back!
I need to get Rose away. I need to get her away!
"She's your friend miss? It's quite terrible!" Gwyneth starts, blocking my path to Rose, even when I try to go around her— "These two came down with the brain fever from that terrible shock! We were just about to take them to the Infirmary—"
"Don't play games with me Gwyneth." I snap angrily, and there's a pull. Like her name has just the slightest bit of weight to it… but I ignore that.
It shuts her up, and that's what I need right now.
Shock falls over the young woman's homely features. I don't give her time to question how I know her name. Pointing as I say, "That is a hearse, she's dead, and he just drugged my friend. Now give her back to m—!" a cloth is shoved over my mouth and nose.
Mr. Sneed must have snuck up while my attention was on Gwyneth. I should have realized he'd do this!! I try to hold my breath, but not fast enough—getting a mouthful of something sweet smelling—Strong and overwhelming.
"Mr. Sneed!" I barely register Gwyneth's reproach,
Flailing, fighting, trying to lash out even as my body starts to feel heavy. My foot stomping hard on Mr. Sneed's. An elbow back makes contact, causing him to loosen his grip with an 'oof,' but not before I've accidentally sucked in another lungful of the drug…
I stumble forward. Trying to get away—get to the Doctor— get help— Gwyneth catches me as my legs wobble and give way. My vision starts to go black.
Fear, icy and cold.
I made a mistake.
I thought I could do this—
With the last of my strength I suck in a breath of cold air screaming "HELp—" before the cloth is other my mouth again.
I know it's too late.
My thoughts dissolving like sand on the wind.
——————————
Rose wakes slowly, her head pounding and thoughts cloudy.
…What was she doing? Had Shareen convinced her to go to another one of her drinking parties?
With a groan, Rose gets up groggily, rubbing at her temples before looking around. Squinting into the dim, lamp lit room.
She's been laid out on some sort of table, two coffins sitting on top of similar tables beside her…. One is the old lady from earlier, The other, a young man, just a little older then herself.
The room is decorated like some sort of chapel…. And there in the corner—
Rose has to do a double take. Propped, sitting in the corner of the room, like some sort of lifeless doll, is Faith.
Rose's heart leaps, headache forgotten as she slides off the table rushes to the other girl's side. "Oh god, Faith? Faith? Wake up!"
Rose shakes the other girl, flinching when she touches her hand, "your hand's are freezing!" For a second Rose isn't sure if she's breathing— but it's there. Light and slow. Same with her heartbeat. Is this normal? It's like a repeat of Platform One.
"C'mon Faith! Wake up!" Rose tries again to wake her…
until she hears something behind her.
Whispering voices growing louder…
The room's temperature drops. The flames from the lanterns flickering for half a second.
A shiver runs down Rose's back as she hears wood creak behind her… The soft rustle of fabric… and then a groan.
She's not alone.
She stands, turning back around just in time to see the corpse of the man sit up in his casket.
Rose takes a slow step back towards the door. "You alright?" She asks hesitantly, as he jerkily pulls his legs over the side of the casket.
"You're kidding me, yeah? ...
You're just kidding." She asks, really hoping he'll agree and crack a smile.
He doesn't. He just stands up.
"You are kidding me, aren't you?" She tries again. Knowing deep down that he isn't. He takes a heavy step towards her. Then another.
"Okay, not kidding." Rose finally whispers, voice trembling as she runs for the door, as far away from him as possible. Then the old lady sits up too. Jerkily mirroring the man's actions while staring right at Rose.
If the eyes are the windows to the soul, then these people— things—whatever they are— aren't right. The color of their irises are all off. A shocking white. Cold and emotionless. Staring blankly at Rose without blinking once.
Yet those unfeeling eyes promise death. Rose is sure of it.
She can feel it in her gut.
The younger man's waxy pale neck— or what's visible of it above his shirt collar— shows he didn't die of a natural cause….
Unless you call strangulation natural.
A sense of dread presses down on Rose's chest, making it hard to breath.
She glances back at the door behind her, then to Faith— still sitting asleep on the floor in the corner— then back to the approaching zombies.
Rose knows she won't be able to lift Faith… let alone get her out of the room...
If she can get help, though...
Rose tries the door knob.
Her heart stops.
Dread replaced by creeping fear, like a hundred crawling insects beneath her skin.
The door is locked.
She's trapped.
She's trapped, and Faith still hasn't woken up.
What if she never wakes up?
What if they both die here?
No, she can't die. Rose and Faith haven't even been born yet. That's impossible.
That doesn't stop Rose's heart from speeding up. Or the knot in her stomach.
Her body obviously doesn't believe her head right now.
jiggling the handle again, she hopes against hope that it's simply jammed...!
It's not.
The corpses shamble forward. Painfully slow, yet too fast for Rose's comfort.
They're already halfway across the room.
The firelight flickers playfully along the posh interior and the cross on the alter. The shadows dancing, accentuating the white lifeless skin and the dead eyes of the two bodies coming towards her.
Zombies shouldn't be allowed in such a place. Aren't crosses supposed to stop undead?
No, wait, that's vampires.
And she really should be focusing on getting out.
…Or at least defending herself and Faith.
Well, first things first.
Rose bangs desperately on the wooden door, pressing herself up against it, "Open the door! Please, please, let us out!" She yells, hoping someone will hear her…
If they do, they don't answer.
So she tries the next thing that comes to mind. emptying a nearby vase of flowers, she throws it at the dead man, the thick glass shattering on impact.
But it barely even makes him stumble, let alone stop either of the zombies for more then a second.
Going back to battering at the door, "Let us out!!!" Rose screams.
The two zombies are almost on top of her now. There's nowhere to run. She knocks even harder, "Somebody open the door!" yelling at the top of her lungs, "Open the door!!"
She sucks in air to yell again, but a cold, clammy hand covers her mouth, muffling her screams. The corpse groans, the stench of death hanging around him and cloying in Rose's throat, as he clamps his other hand around her wrist so she can't move.
The old crone steps from behind him, hovering right in Rose's face. White eyes boring into her.
The lady's wrinkled hands barely ghost over the soft exposed skin of Rose's trembling neck—
There's the crash of wood behind her. Two strong, very alive hands spinning her away from the monsters and over to safety.
The Doctor's familiar chipper voice saying "I think this is my dance," by her ear, as he holds Rose steady, one arm around her waist.
Which is lucky for Rose, because between the corset, the chloroform, and the adrenaline, she's breathing hard and feeling just a bit faint.
Of course, it's at this moment that Rose recalls the conversation she had with Faith in the Tardis.
If Faith really isn't interested in the Doctor… Rose might just find herself falling for the amazing man herself.
"It's a prank. It must be. We're under some mesmeric influence." A man says, one who Rose hadn't noticed standing behind her and the Doctor.
"No, we're not. The dead are walking." The Doctor rebuts back over his shoulder before turning to face Rose with a smile, arm still around her waist, "Hi."
"Hi." Rose answers, still breathless. She glances over her shoulder at the older gentleman behind them, then back to the Doctor's blue-grey eyes, "Who's your friend?"
"Charles Dickens." The Doctor states, like it's a completely ordinary thing to say.
Rose blinks, taken off guard for half a second, before she nods, "Okay."
Then the Doctor is turning back to the zombies, voice authoritative, "My name's the Doctor. Who are you, then? What do you want?"
The voice that comes out of the dead man's mouth isn't one, but many, all speaking at once, though the main speaker sounds like a young girl. A voice that should not be coming from either of the once-people in front of them.
It sends a shiver down Rose's spine.
"Failing." They wheeze, "Open the rift. We're dying. Trapped in this form. Cannot sustain—Help us!" They finish with a cry of pain, both corpses exhaling a cloud of gas before falling, like marionettes with their strings cut.
It's just as the zombies collapse that, Faith lets out a soft groan, reminding Rose of her presence. "Faith!" She rushes for the other girl's side, checking her over before looking up pleadingly, "Doctor you have to help! She won't wake up!"
"If you don't mind me saying…" the maid starts, stepping forward hesitantly, "she might have an imbalance of the humors... The medicine could be effecting her worse because of that…" noticing, the attention of the group on her, she adds on hastily, "Not that I have any medical knowledge, myself."
"Then keep your mouth shut, girl!" Sneed snaps, As the Doctor scans Faith with his sonic.
Checking the results, he holds up a hand to stop Sneed's abuse, "No, she has a point. Faith's body's having trouble processing the chemical makeup of the trichloromethane."
"Will she be alright?" Rose asks nervously, stepping closer to watch over his shoulder.
"Should be. Just means she's sleeping longer then normal. If she doesn't wake up in the next fifteen minutes, then I'll pop back to the Tardis an' get her something for it." Having quelled Rose's concerns, he puts away his screwdriver.
"Right," crouching down, he lifts Faith like she weighs nothing at all, "let's get Faith someplace more comfortable, then you can explain what's going on here."
"And don't think for one second that you're getting away with it!" Rose adds, now that her fear's gone, her temper blazes full force. "I can't believe you!!" And so begins Rose's rant.
She yells at Mr. Sneed all the way into the sitting room, scolding whenever he tries to interrupt, and barely stops for breath in between words.
All the while, the Doctor watches in amusement, content to let her have a go at the man now that the immediate danger is out of the way.
——————
A/n
haha. I'm posting this at 1 am. I really need to get on a better sleep schedule. (Not that that's gonna happen anytime soon :P)
Anyway, hopefully this turned out ok. (Also, this is gonna be the last time Faith gets knocked out for a good long while. Sorry for using that so frequently.)As always thank you thank you thank you for all of your support for this story! I'm really happy people are enjoying it! Writing this is definitely a learning experience and I'm so happy for the support. :) hope you are all staying safe and well!!