A/N: I updated the last chapter and re-uploaded it with an addition to the opening A/N, but for those who read the chapter before the change, I just wanted to put the quick update here:
So far it appears that the latest plagiarism, the one involving my Star Trek story, has been taken down. I don't know if it was the site or the user who removed it, but it has been taken off wattpad.
I just want to say thank you, to all of you who helped report it or who went to report it after it was removed. You have no idea how much it means to me to know that my readers have my back, your support not just with reporting plagiarisms when they come up but bringing them to my attention in the first place means the world to me. I really do love you all so much, thank you :')
~8~
Mummy on the Orient Express: Reverse Course
Despite the terrible situation, Angel had a small smile on her face as she stood beside the Doctor, the two of them looking over Perkins' shoulder as he went through some of the reports. Right now…Tailor and Clara were safe, she could feel that in her bones, and the Doctor had refused to let go of her hand after the event with the kitchen car. It had unsettled her, how the computer and the person controlling it had such little regard for life. It bothered her even more that she couldn't see the Foretold or stop it, for all the power of the Vortex, she wasn't all that powerful in this situation. It wouldn't take power to stop this, but brains, and the Doctor had the greatest brain she'd ever seen.
It was a small comfort, after what happened to Moorhouse, that she could at least help those in the Foretold's hold to not feel such sheer terror at the end of their 66 seconds. She could provide that comfort at least, for no one deserved to die that alone and afraid. She had been thinking about her empathic abilities, how they had manifested first in how animals reacted around her, seeming comfortable with her presence and calmer. She hadn't even realized that was what it was at the time, but it made her think that if she naturally and without conscious effort could sooth animals...perhaps with some effort she could extend that to humans. The Doctor always said things seemed to be calmer when she was around, she had that sort of comforting aura to her, so she just tried to project that. It was a combination of how she could share emotions with the Doctor and how Time Lords could, with effort, send psychic messages to others with a telepathic ability. She used those principles to reach out to Moorhouse...she was just very relieved it worked.
"Doesn't seem to be any pattern," Perkins spoke with a sigh, having gone over the passenger records, "Their travel history, interests, health...it's all over the shop."
"Their health," Angel blinked, something about the word striking her more than the others.
The Doctor immediately latched onto it, "Are you sure? Mrs. Pitt, the first victim. She was over 100 years old, the frailest passenger on board."
"But the next to go, the chef, was young and fit," Perkins pointed out, "It's random."
"No…" Angel shook her head, "No, it's not," she looked at Captain Quell as he moved over, hearing them speaking about the chef, "He was ill, wasn't he?"
"What?" the Doctor turned to the man.
Quell nodded, "A rare blood disorder. Not contagious, but we kept it quiet."
"Because he worked with food. The next one..." the Doctor realized, "The guard?"
"He wasn't ill as such, but he did have synthetic lungs implanted last year."
"Perkins, could you check Professor Moorhouse's records?" Angel turned to the man, though he was already doing so. She had a strong feeling about Moorhouse, stronger than the others, like…she HAD to calm him down, like the fear he felt was too familiar to him and it was making it all the worse for him.
"It seems he was physically fine but suffering from..." Perkins squinted, "Here we are. 'Regular panic attacks after a car crash last year.'"
Angel let out a breath at that, well it explained why her reaction was so much stronger to him. Panic attacks made you feel as though you were dying, to be faced with the Foretold and know he likely was about to, and couple it with the past attacks…he was hurting so much worse than anyone else had. It resonated with her so much as a result.
"It's picking off the weakest first," the Doctor realized, "Sensing the illness somehow. The fake organs, even psychological issues. This is good news because it means we can work out who is next," he squeezed Angel's hand as he said it, this was not something he would want to use her powers for. It was one thing when she had a vision or a feeling out of nowhere that guided her to help another, but it was another to force her to look into who was going to be next. He didn't want that to have to hang over her head, to watch out for who was next on top of keeping her senses open for who the computer might decompress next or if their daughter was in danger or how long they had once the Foretold appeared. He didn't want to overtax her or spread her so thin she missed something. THEY could work out who was next without needing Angel to look to the future and he'd do anything to spare her that, "I want the medical records of everybody alive who is still on board. If anyone's had as much as a cold, I want to know about it."
Perkins nodded and got up to go get the records sorted.
"You really think it can sense psychological issues?" Quell asked, tense.
"Seems so. Why?"
"You were right about how I've lost the stomach for a fight," Quell began, "But you were wrong for why. I wasn't wounded in battle, as such. I…" he glanced at Angel in that moment, wanting to let her know it was alright that she had been wrong…when he saw the way she was looking back at him, so sadly, so empathically that he inhaled sharply. He understood, in that moment, that she hadn't been wrong at all. When she had said he'd been wounded in battle, she was being kind by not airing out such a traumatic experience for anyone to hear. She had been considerate of his past and only said as much as needed to be said at the time. But now…now more needed to be shared, "My unit was bombed. I was the sole survivor. Not a scratch on me. But post-traumatic stress...nightmares. Still can't sleep without pills."
Angel reached out to put a hand on his shoulder, offering him what comfort she could. Both she and the Doctor could understand something and someones suddenly ending and leaving them alone as the sole survivors. It was worse for the Doctor though, she had always had the faintest feeling that she wasn't alone. He hadn't.
The Doctor nodded, understanding the man's trauma all too well, before he grew grim and serious, "Which means that you are probably next. Which is good to know."
"Well, not for me," Quell countered.
"Well, of course not for you because you're going to die but I mean for us, from a research point of view."
"My love," Angel cut in, moving her hand from Quell to lightly grip the Doctor's arm, "Compassion."
The Doctor opened his mouth, about to remark that they couldn't afford it right now, not when there were only a handful of people left on the train, not when the Foretold was picking off the weakest among them. Because he knew, from those parameters alone, from being 'alien' on top of it, he, Angel, and Tailor would be the last ones standing, the strongest among the humans. He had his mind, Angel had the Vortex, and Tailor had her youth and strength in being unblemished and unscarred from the horrors of the things he and Angel had seen and experienced.
He couldn't risk it getting to that point, because he didn't know which of them the Foretold would go after first in that case. He would NOT allow his Mate or Daughter to be taken in such a manner, and he refused to let himself go either and leave them unprotected.
He was a Doctor, yes, he had a duty to care, of course, but sometimes Doctors HAD to distance themselves in order to help their patients. Getting too emotionally invested meant making mistakes, meant not noticing things because they were so worried. He could not risk it, he had to be distant, he had to be clinical in the strongest sense. He only had 66 seconds a person to gather information needed to save others and that was cut in half when the person in question realized the information they'd given hadn't been enough to save them and began to beg for mercy.
Let the humans think him a monster, a heartsless, uncaring, unfeeling monster if it meant he could stop the Foretold.
Before he could even utter a single word, though he was sure Angel had felt all he had in the brief moment it took him to open his mouth, the lights began to flicker…and Quell's gaze locked on something across the room.
"Well, there goes our head start," the Doctor mumbled, "Perkins, start the clock!" he called out, turning to Quell, "What can you see?"
Quell frowned as he eyed the mummy slowly approaching, tapping into any soldier quality he still had left in him to protect those around him, by staying calm and trying to help despite his mounting fear, "Almost feels out of focus. Gives me a headache just looking at it…"
"No," the Doctor shook his head when the man began to pull his gun out on the creature, "No, no. That didn't work before."
"What kind of soldier would I be, dying with bullets in my gun?" Quell asked, firing three times as the other passengers ducked down.
"A soldier can't stop until the other side surrenders," Angel murmured, so sad, her hearts breaking for the man.
"50 seconds," Perkins warned.
"Someone shut that man up!" Quell snapped, "For the record, it didn't even flinch."
The Doctor looked back across the room, "Where is it now?"
"Approximately 20 feet in front of me and closing."
The Doctor squeezed Angel's hand once more before releasing it to rush in that direction.
"40 seconds," Perkins whispered.
Angel glanced at him, then to Quell, before moving to his side and taking his hand. She didn't want it to be like with Moorhouse, where he only had the briefest second of comfort, not if she could help it. She watched Quell intently hoping she was able to ease the situation even the smallest amount.
"Am I close?" the Doctor asked, frowning deeply as he looked between Quell and Angel, not wanting his Mate to be so close to the man who was about to die, but knowing she felt she had to do this, her own way of helping. He was using his mind to work this out, she was using her abilities to try and help others when he couldn't work it out in time.
Quell looked slightly queasy, watching as the Foretold walked through the Doctor, its fingers passing through the man's face first, "It's passing right through you, like a ghost."
"It's not a hologram," Perkins called out, a device in his hand he was scanning the room with.
"If you move, will it follow?" the Doctor called to Quell.
Quell, for his part, felt…not content, no one would be content when they were about to die as he knew he was, but…the girl next to him, at least he wasn't alone, at least he wasn't on the battlefield far away, lying on the ground and bleeding out. At least he was doing something with his life, what was left of it, helping to save others like he couldn't save his brothers-in-arms, "Do you want me to move?" he cleared his throat, nodding, "I can certainly do that."
"Keep looking at it. But back off quick as you like."
Quell tightened his hold on Angel's hand without realizing it, backing up quickly as he was told, nearly dragging the woman with him. He'd put some distance between himself and the Foretold, when the lights flickered and Angel tugged his hand, half turning him and guiding him to back away again. The Foretold was right behind him.
"I think it teleported," Angel frowned, she'd felt its presence before her and then suddenly behind.
Quell nodded, "It did," he confirmed, "It went behind me."
"20 seconds," Perkins called.
Quell swallowed hard, staring at the Foretold as it approached, not feeling the flash of fear he had when he first saw it. He tugged Angel's hand a little more, moving to place his other hand on hers, drawing courage from the woman beside him, willing to face this creature down with him, not knowing if it would go after her for it, simply so he wouldn't be alone. He took a breath, nodding to himself, "I think this is it. Still, suppose it's not a bad way to go. Blood pumping, enemy at the gates and all that. And thank you, Doctor, for waking me up. It's reaching for me. Hands on my head."
Angel closed her eyes, feeling the pressure against her own head as well, knowing what was coming next, and trying to focus on any sort of empathetic ability she had to help the man remain strong and comforted to the last second.
"0," Perkins announced the same time Quell began to fall to the ground, Angel catching him as Perkins rushed over to help her lay the man on the floor.
"Teleporter," the Doctor muttered to himself, his mind racing, "That means tech. Then 66 seconds...to do what? 66 seconds. That seems very, very specific. Too specific for organic. So, what? More tech? What? More? A countdown clock? Something charging?"
For the first time since this terror began, Perkins did not appear impressed with the Doctor, "A man just died in front of us. Can we not just have a moment?"
"No," he said simply, though his frown was deep as he watched Angel placing one of the unworn white lab coats over the man's prone form in respect. And that was why he hadn't bothered to stop, his Mate had the caring and consideration under control, she would be respectful enough for the both of them. They were a team, two halves of a whole, while she tended to the grief, he would focus on the hard facts. He had to, one more person was gone and the Foretold would only come after another now, "No, no, no. We can't do that. We can't mourn. People with guns to their heads, they cannot mourn. We do not have time to mourn. Everybody," he called out to the humans, "What takes 66 seconds to charge up or to change state? Anyone?" no one answered, causing him to sigh, "Am I surrounded by idiots? If only I could see this thing!"
"Don't say that, my love," Angel's soft voice caused him to pause.
"You know I would stop it though," the Doctor looked at her, "One minute with me and this thing, it would be over!"
"I have no doubts about that," Angel stood and moved over to him, taking his hands, "But for it to get to you, it has to go through everyone else first."
"I can't tell if you're a genius or just incredibly arrogant," Perkins told the Doctor as he stood. He wasn't sure what to make of Angel's words either, that she was implying the man was the strongest among them. Or…was she reminding him he needed to stop the Foretold sooner because it would only kill more people before it got to him?
He didn't know what to make of these people any longer.
"Well, on a good day, I'm both," the Doctor told him, before sighing, "You're right though," he pressed a quick kiss to Angel's hair, knowing, in different circumstances, he would have been smug over the moon that she thought he would be the one the Foretold considered to be the strongest, "Stop it, as soon as possible," he looked at her, "No more, eh?"
Angel could only give him her sad smile, hearing the familiar words. He didn't enjoy this, he wasn't happy about it, he was doing his best. He didn't want to lose anyone else, but he also didn't know enough to be able to stop it yet.
"Ancient tech," she began, trying to offer him answers or anything she could to help him think. She may have a human soul, according to the TARDIS, and she may not be all that clever for a Time Lady, but she had to be even the tiniest bit smarter than a human, having seen and lived through all she had. She frowned, "Ancient creatures…"
The Doctor nodded, "This thing has been around for centuries. How? Tech that keeps it alive?"
"Mr. Sweet…" Angel remarked, the parasite coming to her mind when she thought of ancient creatures surviving so long, something keeping it alive.
The Doctor's eyes widened, "Tech that drains energy from the living!" he realized, before snapping his fingers at Perkins, "Scanner!" he called, grabbing one as soon as the man had it in hand, hurrying over to Quell and using it, "Deep tissue scan. He's been leached of almost all energy on a cellular level. The heart attack is just a…is just a side effect."
"Oh, it's not just a mummy, it's a vampire," Perkins remarked, "Metaphorically speaking."
"It's a leech," Angel agreed, now understanding how Mr. Sweet had factored in.
"But why take 66 seconds to drain us?" the Doctor wondered, "Why not just pounce?"
"Maybe it's building something up?" Angel suggested.
Perkins blinked, "Or taking something out," he looked at the Doctor, "Phase. Moving energy out of phase. That takes about a minute, doesn't it?"
"That's why only the victims can see it!" the Doctor realized, "It takes them out of phase so it can drain their energy. You, sir, are a genius! This explains everything."
"Almost," Angel reminded him, not wanting to ruin his excitement at having worked out part of it, but knowing he would need to keep focused to get the rest of it
"Yes…" he winced, "Apart from what it is and how it's doing it. Sorry, I jumped the gun there with the 'you're a genius, that explains everything' remark."
Angel offered Perkins an apologetic look, "Wait for it," she told the man, "He'll work his way around to it again."
"Maybe sooner than I think," Perkins managed a small joke, holding up a tablet that one of the other passengers had handed to him, "I think we know the next victim," he handed it to the Doctor.
Angel didn't even need to look over his shoulder to know who it was, seeing the image of Maisie's passenger report in his mind.
"Ah, of course," he grew grim once more, "That makes perfect sense."
~8~
Angel was torn about how she felt as she held the phone to her ear, speaking with Clara in the storeroom. On one hand, it was probably better that she call the girls, the Doctor was far too focused on the imminent threat and how it would eventually be coming for THEM to be kind enough in what had to be discussed. On the other hand, no one ever wanted to have to have such a conversation with anyone.
She'd just told Clara that they were afraid Maisie might be the next one the Foretold came after, due to the trauma she'd endured through her life due to her grandmother.
"She's had a bad day," Clara argued, "That's all."
"Clara," Angel sighed, "The Foretold won't care about that. She's grieving, which means she's suffering and…" she trailed off, straightening as something occurred to her.
She turned to the Doctor, a deep frown on her face, 'I don't think it's picking off the weakest,' she told him, 'I…I think it's being merciful.'
'What?' he moved to her side.
'The people that were targeted, they were hurting in their own ways, age, illness, trauma,' she swallowed hard, 'What if the Foretold has gone after them so they don't have to…to fight anymore?'
'Fight?' he eyed her for that choice of words.
'I don't know why I said that,' she admitted.
He nodded, trusting that it was important though and tacking it onto his mental list of everything they'd learned so far.
"Hello?" it was Tailor's voice over the phone now, "Mum? You there? You ok? Hello?"
Angel shook herself from her thoughts and focused back on the phone, "Tailor, sweetheart, I'm here. Sorry. I got distracted."
Tailor giggled slightly, "Dad's right next to you isn't he?"
Angel managed a small chuckle of her own, "He is quite distracting."
"What's going on mum?" Tailor asked, "Aunt Clara said something about trying to figure out who the Foretold is going to attack next?"
Angel sighed, "We think it might be Maisie. It's targeting those who aren't at their best right now."
"We need you two to bring her to the lounge car," the Doctor moved closer to speak into the phone as well.
"We could do that," Tailor told him, a bit of a deadpan in her voice, "If I had a sonic to unlock the baggage car door…"
The Doctor blinked at that and sighed, shaking his head, "On my way."
"Your father's coming to handle the door," Angel told her daughter.
"Ok, hold on, Aunt Clara wants to talk to you, I'll go wait for dad."
A moment later Clara was back, "We're coming to the lounge car?"
"If you could," Angel asked.
"Angel…is it because you can save her?"
"We're going to try our best, Clara," Angel told her, unable to promise anything given the situation, "You know we will. But…if we can't," she sighed, hating this part of it all, "Do you think she'd want to have to face it there, not know what's happening, or here, where she can see people trying to stop it?"
Clara was quiet a moment, "She wouldn't want to be alone," she reasoned.
"No one would," Angel agreed, "And…if it's all the same, I'd rather you and Tailor here with us too," she glanced at the security cameras, "I don't trust this computer system to not try and decompress the baggage car to keep us in line."
"We're on our way," Clara told her.
Angel nodded, slowly lowering the phone onto the table and looking around at the humans frantically working, all of them in danger of being next after Maisie. The display case that held the scroll of the Foretold caught her attention out of the corner of her eyes and she moved over to it, eyeing it closely, her arms crossed as she tried to make heads or tails of its meaning or importance. Looking at it now, it was clear that it was the piece of cloth she'd seen in her vision, but WHY had she seen it?
~8~
Clara sighed as she hung up the phone, looking over when she heard a small cheer and moving out of the storeroom to see the Doctor in the doorway of the baggage car, Tailor hugging him tightly.
"Come on, Maisie," Clara tried to offer the woman a smile, but it was hard, "We need to head to the lounge car. They might be able to help you from there."
"Honestly, I'm just glad to be out of his car," Maisie laughed, moving over to the door and smiling at the Doctor, offering her hand, "Hello again. I'm Maisie."
"Good for you," the Doctor shook her hand briefly, "Lounge's that way."
Tailor rolled her eyes before moving to Maisie's side to lead her off, the woman remarking about how she didn't much believe that she was the next one the Foretold would be coming after, she wasn't mad, just a little sad and other people probably had more 'trauma' than she did. But she would feel much better being around everyone working to stop the thing than locked away in that car with that odd blue box.
She reached out a hand to stop the Doctor following, "Doctor," she began, glancing over at where the TARDIS was parked, "We tried to get in the TARDIS before, to get out of the room, but…there was this force field around it…"
"It's probably the computer trying to block our escape route," he remarked, turning to walk after Maisie and Tailor, heading back to the lounge.
Clara frowned as she followed, "How would a computer even know what it is? Cos if it knows what it is, then it knows what you are."
The Doctor sighed, scratching the side of his face, "Well, he has tried to entice me and Angel here before. Free tickets, mysterious summons, he even phoned the TARDIS number. Do you know how difficult..."
"So you knew then," Clara cut in, "That this was no relaxing break. You knew this was dangerous."
"I didn't," he looked at her, "I had hoped he'd have moved on by now, that we'd get on a different trip, different point in time. Apparently Idris had other ideas."
"Don't blame the TARDIS for this," Clara elbowed him lightly.
"I'm not," he defended, "From what Angel and the old girl herself have said, she takes me where she thinks I need to go. No idea why she thought we needed to go here now," he'd set the controls for the Orient Express in space, letting the old girl choose when to place them, and he'd really hoped it would have been a safer pick, "But I've learned not to argue with her."
Clara snorted, "Because last time you tried to she wouldn't let you touch the console for a month straight."
He shook his head at that memory, their blue box was quite a stubborn old girl. He reached out to press a panel on the wall, opening the door to the lounge car for Tailor and Maisie, gesturing them in. Tailor quickly moved to her mother's side, Angel turning around from where she'd been looking at the displayed scroll, to hug her daughter tightly. He moved over to Perkins, taking a scanner from him and using it on a rather distracted Maisie.
"So, this is where everyone is," Tailor muttered, looking at all the people crammed in there. They'd been hoping that one of the staff or another passenger might walk past baggage and let them out. Now they knew why it hadn't happened.
"This looks quite different from the old lounge," Maisie glanced at all the laboratory equipment, startled to see it in what had been a rather comfortable lounge. She turned to the Doctor, about to ask him what had happened to it, when she gasped and jerked back, seeing a mummy standing behind him at the door right as the lights flickered.
Everyone in the room knew what that meant, tensing, waiting to see what would happen, to observe all they could.
"Do we start the clock?" Perkins glanced at the Doctor, the man had been so quick to order just that every other time before but not now.
"Not yet," the Doctor moved over to Maisie, scanning her again, "Focus," he told her, "Focus. Focus! All of that is your grief, your trauma, your resentment. And now…" he quickly turned the scanner to his own head, "It's mine!"
"Dad, what have you done!?" Tailor gasped, catching on to what had happened far more quickly than the other humans.
"It's gone!" Maisie cried at the same time, seeing the mummy vanish.
"No, it didn't," Angel breathed, seeing the mummy through the Doctor's eyes at the end of the room.
"Not for me," the Doctor agreed, staring at it, his eyes roving all over it for any scrap of information to be found, "Cos now it thinks I'm you. Perkins," he called to the man though he didn't take his eye off the creature, "Start the clock," and then he grinned at the Foretold, "Hello."
"If he says 'nice to meet you…'" Clara threatened as she hurried to Angel's side, grabbing the woman's hand in comfort, knowing this couldn't be easy knowing what was happening and fearing for her friend.
"Mum…" Tailor looked to her mother, completely terrified.
If her father couldn't stop this thing…if it killed him-killed him with no chance of regeneration...it would kill her mother too.
Angel stumbled back slightly, feeling overwhelmed with so many more emotions. It was one thing for the humans to be a bit fearful when witnessing another being attacked by the Foretold. But now she had Clara and Tailor and the Doctor all feeling that fear for him and it was echoing back to her, magnified by her connection to the Doctor as well.
For all his bravado, he was scared, truly scared that he wouldn't be able to work it out in time.
He had always done everything he could to protect her and Tailor, keep them safe, and a daft part of him had thought infecting himself with someone else's trauma was the way to do it now. He thought it would be easy, that if he could just SEE the Foretold, he would KNOW what it was…now he wasn't sure he would.
"I'm so pleased to finally see you," the Doctor said instead, needing to push back everything else, his fear, his worry, the Mating instinct going mad within him, he needed the full 66 seconds to understand what was going on, "I'm the Doctor and I will be your victim this evening. Are you my mummy?"
"Dad!" Tailor snapped, despite having joked about it earlier, right now was NOT the time.
"It's fine, sweetheart, he can't hurt me until my time is up. So, are there magic words? Is there a way to stop you in your tracks?" he winced, feeling a piece of Maisie's trauma flare up, "Oh, you really didn't like your gran, did you?"
"Focus, my love," Angel called, her voice shaking.
That tremble in her tone was enough to zero in his attention, "There's something visible under the bandages," he winced again, good lord Maisie had serious issues if they kept popping up at a time like this, "By the way, you weren't being paranoid. She really did poison your pony," he shook his head, focusing, "Markings like the ones the scroll!" he called to Angel, not wanting to turn away from the mummy when Angel could look at the scroll for him and share what she saw at the same time, "Oh, and your father," he added to Maisie, "Sorry."
"What?" Maisie demanded, honestly not having suspected her grandmother of poisoning her father too!
"I don't understand," Tailor turned to her mother as the woman moved to examine the scroll for the Doctor, "He's after the scroll?"
"A tattered piece of cloth attached to a length of wood that you will kill for…" the Doctor frowned, trying to think of its significance.
"30 seconds," Perkins called.
"That doesn't sound like a scroll," the Doctor muttered.
Angel reached out, using the Vortex to dissolve the glass keeping it safe, using that power to protect her hand as the protections flared up, managing to short it out so she could touch it, hoping to get a better look at it, when she gasped.
…there were men everywhere, weapons in hand, as they ran across a field towards others wielding their own...
…a man fell to the ground, hands pressed to his gut, red seeping out, staining his uniform...
…a flag waved a few feet away, the dying man's eyes trained on it as more and more people fell around him...
"A flag," the Doctor breathed, seeing the images in her mind, those flashes of the past that were the last piece of the puzzle, "A flag, uniforms, men with weapons," he looked at the Foretold, understanding, "You are a soldier," he realized, "Wounded in a forgotten war thousands of years ago. But they've worked on you, haven't they, son?"
Angel winced again, her grip on the scroll even tighter.
…a body was thrown onto a slap, odd equipment set up around the room, a gloved hand reaching to stretch a wound in the gut...
…electricity flickered as energy was poured into the body, draining the power all around...
…a body was wrapped in layers of cloth, keeping all the work hidden, keeping all the new parts attached...
The Doctor swallowed hard, his hearts aching for what he saw flash across Angel's mind but also for the strain it was putting on his Mate. Angel's specialty lied in seeing the future, she didn't often see the past. When she did...it affected her more than any vision of the future ever could. When she saw the future a part of her mind knew she could change it, avoid the bad emotions that could come with it. But the past already happened and she was hit with the full weight of what was felt then too.
"They've filled you full of kit," he spoke to the Foretold, having recognized the equipment glimpsed in the vision, "State-of-the-art phase camouflage, personal teleporter."
"10 seconds," Perkins called.
"Any time you want to say those magic words, dad," Tailor urged, she and Clara gathered around her mother as she seemed in terrible pain.
He nodded, "All that tech inside you, it just won't let you die, will it?" he eyed the Foretold with a new understanding, "It won't let the war end. It just won't let you stop until the war is over…" he let out a breath something Angel had said coming back to him now, "A soldier can't stop until the other side surrenders," he whispered, "Well then…" he looked at the mummy, "We surrender."
"0!" Perkins warned, all the others tensing with the expectation that he was about to slump to the ground dead…when he didn't.
The Doctor was still standing.
What's more…
"I can see it again!" Maisie cried out.
"It's ok," Clara murmured, glancing between Angel and the Doctor and…and past him to where SHE could see the Foretold lowering its arms and stepping back from the man, "I think we all can?"
Tailor nodded, "I can," she agreed, her face scrunching as she took in the sight, "Ewww."
"Do I start the clock?" Perkins had to ask, unsure, his eyes on the Foretold as well.
The Doctor, however, now that there was no danger, no need to gather intel, turned his back on the mummy, moving to Angel and taking her in his arms tightly, tugging the scroll from her death-grip gently, "No," he answered, dropping a kiss to the top of her head, knowing what she'd seen, what she'd felt had startled her. She had been trying to grab the scroll to bring it to him and show him it up close, she hadn't expected to be bombarded with a look into the mummy's past the way she had. He glanced over at the Foretold as it saluted him, "The clock has stopped. You're relieved, soldier."
They all watched in growing relief as the Foretold collapsed into a pile of dust on the floor.
"He's not the only one," Perkins remarked.
Clara stepped towards the pile of ash, eyeing it cautiously, "We were fighting that?"
"Monster under the bed," Tailor coughed behind her, they'd faced more odd things than that.
Angel took a deep breath and pulled away from the Doctor, shaking her head to gather herself, "It's not over yet," she warned him.
He nodded, growing serious once more as he took her hand, moving over to the pile of dust and bandages, reaching into it to pull out a small bit of tech. He looked over at the security cameras, "Well," he called up to the computer, "I think we solved your little puzzle. Ancient soldier being driven by malfunctioning tech," he tossed it onto a table and pulled out his sonic to flash it.
Angel glanced at the camera, before moving over to Tailor's side, hugging the girl, but also whispering a warning in her ear that had the girl hurrying over to her father's side to assist.
"Thank you so much for your efforts," the computer spoke, "They are greatly appreciated. Unfortunately, survivors of this exercise are not required."
Angel took a deep breath, calming herself and focusing, knowing the Doctor would need some extra help with what came next.
"Well, there's a shocker," the Doctor grumbled under his breath.
"Air will now be removed from the entire train. We hope you have enjoyed your journey on the Orient Express."
Angel lifted her hands, her eyes glowing gold as she created a shimmering golden wall around all of them, doing her best to keep the air in while the rest was being sucked out of the train. It wouldn't be much, she couldn't create new air, but it should give them a little longer than if it were actively being sucked out.
"I take it you know a way out?" Clara called to the Time Lords as the other humans began to panic, gathering together, huddling close and she could feel why. It wasn't as bad as air being ripped out of her lungs, but there was only so much Angel could do, so quick she could be to get her golden walls up. They would still all suffocate if the Doctor wasn't fast enough…and she could already feel the air thinning.
"My enemy's enemy is my friend," the Doctor murmured.
"Especially when he comes with a teleporter," Tailor agreed, rushing over to another desk to grab a tool.
"Great!" Clara tried to smile, but she was starting to feel lightheaded, "So…so use it…"
"A little more work," the Doctor warned.
Clara blinked a few times, stumbling to her knees as she saw the other humans growing drowsy as well, "What…"
"It'll be ok, Aunt Clara," Tailor reassured her, all the Time Lords seeming less affected than the humans, but then again their lungs were slightly different than a human's too.
The girl's smile was the last thing Clara saw before her world went black…
~8~
"She's awake!" was the first thing Clara heard as she slowly came to, to find herself lying, wrapped in a blanket, on the sands of a rocky beach on some planet. The first thing she noticed beyond that was Tailor at her side, beaming at her and hugging her tightly as she sat up.
A few feet away, the Doctor was writing something in the sand using a stick he'd found, Angel only two steps away, her arms crossed as the Time Lady stared out into the distance at a building with a green crescent moon on the side of it.
"Hello, again," the Doctor glanced over at her, "Sleep well?"
"Weren't we just on a train?" she asked, pulling away from Tailor as the younger Time Lady sat next to her on a large piece of driftwood.
"We WERE," Tailor told her, "But we're not now, obviously."
"Obviously," Clara chuckled lightly, even she could see that. But then her laughter faded as the last few moments on the train came back to her, "What happened?"
"We got everyone off the train."
"Yes," the Doctor sighed, straightening and looking up at the sky a moment, "Tailor and I were able to get the teleporter working eventually, beamed everyone into the TARDIS. No casualties. Just a bevy of sleeping beauties."
"Sissy wasn't pleased with so many people just showing up," Angel remarked, turning to give Clara a solemn smile, "But we were able to get them all to the nearest hospital for check up. They should all be fine, bit of oxygen deprivation, but nothing serious."
"I tried hacking the computer from the TARDIS," the Doctor added, "Find out who set this all up. He really didn't like that. Set off some fail-safe thing. Blew up the train."
Clara blinked, "Blew up the train?"
"I know," Tailor nudged Clara, "For once it wasn't dad, right?"
"Yes, yes, ha, ha," he huffed, tossing the stick away and reaching out to take Angel's hand as she moved over to his side, "But we got away, as we said, to here. Nearest civilized planet."
"You were sleeping quite peacefully," Angel told Clara, "We didn't want to disturb you."
"So, you saved everyone?" Clara smiled at them, absorbing what they'd summarized.
"No," the Doctor said simply, his voice so…tired and resigned that Clara's heart ached for him. Tailor got up and went to hug her father from the side, "We saved some of them, but others…" he shook his head, "Mrs. Pitt, Stumpy, Rodrigo, Moorhouse, Quell…others we couldn't."
"You saved Maisie though," Clara pointed out, "At the risk of your own life."
At the risk of Angel and Tailor's too didn't need to be said.
The Doctor nodded though, not disputing her words which made her frown, "What?" she asked.
Angel looked over at her, moving closer to the Doctor as he wrapped his arm around her shoulders, "He didn't know if he could save her," Angel told her, "I had faith he could, but I didn't have a vision or a sensation he would either."
Clara stilled at that, startled, blinking rapidly at what the Time Lords were admitting to her. He…he really hadn't known if he would be able to stop the Foretold, if he would even be able to get it to come after him instead. He'd hoped, had faith as Angel was always telling him to do, but he hadn't known or been sure. He'd taken an enormous risk, not just with his own life but with his family's, to try and save the humans.
"For what it's worth," Tailor spoke, squeezing her father a little more, "I knew he could," she leaned in to give her father a peck on the cheek, "No one can beat my daddy."
The Doctor smiled at her for her words, pressing a kiss to her forehead for her faith in him, but his hearts were still racing from the terror of seeing the Foretold. Never before had he felt such empathy for Angel's early fears about her visions. He could still recall the days where she had fretted that she would lead them into danger or do something without realizing it that would hurt someone else. When she had just been starting to embrace her sensations, she was so afraid of how she would just...react...without thought or realizing it. He had done his best to reassure her she never would.
And then he experienced it for himself.
The Mating instinct, the urge to keep her safe, had been sounding alarms in his head ever since the train turned into a lab. He had thrown himself so into the study of the Foretold as a way to cope, to try and dull that instinct enough to focus. But it was always there, pushing him to keep Angel safe, protect Angel. Protect his Mate. Protect his Mate. ProtectHisMate. ProtectHisMate. ProtecthisMateProtecthisMateProtecthisMate! And, before he even realized it he'd transferred Maisie's trauma to himself. He'd meant to just scan her, to examine the trauma, see if he could reverse it so that the Foretold would have no one to pick off. What if there was no one there with any weaknesses to exploit? And the instinct told him it wasn't good enough, HE had to stop the Foretold, HE had to protect his Mate and child.
And so he'd transferred the trauma.
It hadn't been till he'd seen the Mummy that he'd realized what he'd done and what it could mean to Angel. They didn't know how the Foretold would kill a Time Lord, if it would be permanently without regeneration or if he'd just keep coming back for more. If it was permanent...he could have killed his Mate along with him, left his child an Orphan. His hearts had frozen for a brief second, before racing, the instinct even stronger now that the danger was so close. He HAD to find a way to stop it, there was no room for failure for he swore he would never again be the cause of any pain to his Mate.
He had been lucky that he'd worked it out, he didn't want to think about what would have happened if he failed.
But still, he reacted and didn't realize it, and now he knew how Angel had felt all those years ago.
It was a terrifying feeling.
He took a breath and looked over at Clara, forcing those thoughts away, not sure he could bear to keep thinking of them now, "I didn't know if I could save her," he repeated, "I couldn't save Quell, I couldn't save Moorhouse. There was a good chance that she'd die too. At which point, I would have just…" he let out a breath at how it would make him sound, "Moved onto the next and the next until I beat it," he shook his head, sounding for all the world as though he had had far too much experience with situations like this and was just so tired of them, and she knew he had, "Sometimes, the only choices you have are bad ones. But you still have to choose."
Those words echoed in Clara's mind, remnants of what Angel had said on the moon, this was just another example of the impossible situations that the Time Lords put themselves in all for the sake of helping other people and trying to save them. It wasn't fair, that they had to bear this burden.
Clara could only look at the Time Lords, at Angel and the Doctor as the woman embraced her Mate in a comforting hug, Tailor moving to pick up his stick to draw in the sand, giving her parents a moment. No matter how long she traveled with the Time Lords, the stories she heard, the adventures she had, it always struck her right in the gut, the reminder she wasn't the first or the only one to travel with them. Not in a bad way, not in a jealous or hurt way, but so pained for them. Because they had gone through similar things in the past, with other companions, they had suffered situations like this where no matter how hard they tried, people still died and they couldn't save them. It was even harder for them now, with Angel there, with her abilities, so many more were saved that when they did lose someone, it hurt twice as much.
And she was about to do exactly that to them, she was going to leave, force them to lose her too…
She felt tears in her eyes as she watched them, watched the Doctor swaying as he held Angel close to him, both feeling guilty for what they couldn't do, couldn't help.
And she realized, as much as they were hurting, as much as they didn't want to be alone with this pain, they would still take her back to Earth and part ways with her because she'd asked them to. They would go on, still reeling from this, still pained, still trying to save other people without her, because they just wanted what was best for her and they trusted that she knew what was best for herself.
But HOW was abandoning her family when they were hurting best for her?
It wasn't.
It never would be.
She couldn't leave them now, not like this, not after this sort of trip. The Time Lords loved her enough to let her go when she claimed she wanted to go, no complaints, no guilting her, nothing.
But Danny…
She had to look away from the Time Lords as he entered her thoughts again, Maisie's words coming back to her too.
She had been looking at this in terms of what might cause her the least amount of loss, because it had felt like she was going to lose something no matter what she did. Pick the Time Lords, lose Danny. Pick Danny and she'd still have part of the Time Lords, seeing them on holidays. And that wasn't fair to her at all, she shouldn't be in a position where she was going to lose anything, not when both sides could help it, not when it WAS possible to have both if not for one side's stubbornness and refusal to understand.
This shouldn't be on HER to fix, when nothing was really broken.
The Time Lords just wanted her to be happy, and if it meant with Danny they would let her be. If Danny loved her as much as Angel seemed to think, then he would have wanted her to be happy too, and that would mean letting her go on with her travelling. He would have to understand and deal with it, learn how to handle it if he wanted her in his life. Because he should want her to be happy and she could never be happy if her family was hurting or hurting because of her.
She didn't know what she was going to do, how she was going to handle Danny, what might happen between them now, but she did know one thing.
She truly didn't think she could leave her family now, not at all really, and especially not after this, not while they were in pain.
That wasn't what family did.
~8~
Understandably, after the ordeal most of the passengers of the Orient Express in Space suffered, Perkins was the only one who took the Time Lords up on their offer for a lift back home. To the rest, the Doctor had been a madman barking orders. To Perkins, he'd been a man, the only man, to see something wrong and actively try to right it from the start. And that was worth another chance in his book. That and a man as mad as him must have an equally impressive ship to travel in.
He'd been right.
Not only was the man's ship a little blue box that was bigger on the inside, the Doctor had even let him examine parts of it below the control console. Well, not the Doctor per say, Angel and Tailor had been very excited to talk about their ship and show him some of the working parts. The Doctor had seemed mockingly-irritated, but truly actually fond as he watched them.
If he was being honest, he couldn't keep up with half of what they'd said, but just their clear love for the ship and their pride in its workings was enough to get him smiling and nodding along.
"It's quite a vehicle you have here," he told the Time Lords as they came back to the main level, "I won't pretend to understand half of it. Having said that, I did notice you've got a couple of drive stacks need replacing."
"Oh, you did, did you?" the Doctor rolled his eyes.
"As I've been telling you for about two centuries now," Angel reminded him with a light poke to his side.
He grinned at her, putting his arm around her and letting her lean against him, happy she seemed to have recovered from the stress of their last trip if she could grin at him the way she was.
"You should get someone in," Perkins teased, knowing the two girls were the ones responsible for fixing the box and keeping it going, "And a job like that takes forever."
"Good thing I've got my girls," the Doctor countered easily.
Tailor snorted at that, not needing to read her father's mind to know where his thoughts had gone, he could keep them in the box forever. For her mother, that was a lovely notion, for her though…she had her father's spirit and, yeah, one day she'd like to go out there and see the Universe on her own. Kids couldn't stay home forever, could they?
"Well, I won't keep you," the Doctor turned to Perkins, "Goodbye, Perkins."
Angel laughed, moving over to Perkins to give him a hug, "Thank you, Mr. Perkins. For all of your help, it made a world of difference."
Perkins smiled and gave her a nod, tipping his hat to them, "It was good to meet you," he told them, "And good luck."
The Doctor held out a hand to shake his, Tailor doing so as well, before the man turned to go, tipping his hat to Clara as he passed and moved out the doors to his home.
"Everything alright, Aunt Clara?" Tailor asked, the woman had been unnaturally quiet since the beach.
She nodded, giving them a small smile, "I'm just…sorry."
"For what?" the Doctor frowned.
"I'm sorry that you have to be the man making the impossible choices."
The Doctor shrugged, turning to the console and starting to put in coordinates for Clara's flat, "It's my life."
Clara nodded, feeling terrible that she'd made the situation solemn when it had been lighter before but she just…she couldn't keep that in any longer.
"As your life is yours," Angel remarked, giving Clara a nod to her phone a moment before it rang, "Go on, we'll keep the explosions to a minimum."
The Doctor rolled his eyes at that, earning a laugh from Tailor as she came to help them pilot the box to Clara's home for the last time.
Clara moved to go down the stairs below the console, pausing for a brief moment to look at the Time Lords, who seemed to have remembered that fact and grown resigned and sorrowful when they thought she wasn't looking.
She swallowed hard and moved further down the stairs, pulling her mobile out and answering, "Hey, Danny," she cleared her throat, "How are you?"
"Fine," he began.
"Um, so…any reason for the call?" she asked, "You…you sounded very not-happy before."
Danny sighed, "I know. I'm sorry, I just...look, can we meet up? Talk a little more? I just…I don't want to end things like that."
Clara couldn't help but smile at his words. She had been…she'd decided that she was going to pick the Time Lords, if Danny kept with this ultimatum, she would chose them. Because they would let her be with Danny if it made her happy, but he wouldn't let her be with them even if it made her happy and she deserved someone that would work with her and even just TRY to make it work first before saying they couldn't handle anything.
But…now he was taking it back so…so it meant he might be open to her travelling again then right? He didn't want to give up on her, he didn't want it to be over, so that had to mean he knew how important the Time Lord were to her, right?
There was hope.
She…she didn't have to decide RIGHT now what to do.
She had time, she could talk to him, maybe wean him into talk about the travelling in a few weeks or months and…and go from there? That could work, right?
Well, she wouldn't know unless she tried, "I can't talk right now," she told him, "But I'll see you soon and, um, and then we can talk."
She didn't say I love you, even though she wanted to. It just felt…too soon after the scare she'd had of him calling it over.
"Ok," she could practically hear him nodding, "Ok, yeah, that…that works. Thank you Clara."
"Of course," she smiled, "See you soon."
"See you."
She ended the call, letting out a little light laugh and placing a hand against her head, surprised that…that this might actually work out, that she might be able to have both after all. She quickly turned and hurried back to the console, stopping short to try and compose herself before the last few steps.
"How's Mr. Pink?" Angel asked, giving Clara a soft smile.
"What?" the Doctor looked up, before noticing Clara had returned, "Oh, was that Danny? What did he want?"
"Nothing," she said, her cheeks pinkening in a way she didn't know why but it had Tailor giggling, "Just…checking in," she hopped up the last few steps and just barely refrained from skipping over to them, "Listen…" she began, "I was thinking, a lot, during this trip and…and I…this, us, all of us knocking about…I'm not sure I'm actually ready to stop yet."
"Are you?" Angel asked.
Clara opened her mouth to sound surer…when she caught sight of Angel's little sly smile, "You knew!?" she gaped at the woman, "You knew I wasn't going to stop?"
Angel laughed, "I…I was really surprised when you said you did," she told the girl, "Part of me just felt like…" she tried to find the words, "Like it was impossible I wouldn't have felt it coming with more certainty. As this trip went on, it started to feel like…the reason why was because there wasn't anything to feel."
Even Tailor seemed confused with that explanation.
"You mean…because I was going to keep travelling in the end," Clara began, "You didn't feel me stopping before, because it wouldn't matter anyway if I took it back?"
"Something like that, yeah," Angel laughed.
Clara shook her head, "To hell with the last hurrah, let's keep going!" she cheered.
Even though the Doctor was smiling, he couldn't help but bring up, "That's a big change of heart."
"Yeah, they happen," she shrugged.
"Seriously?"
"Dad, we're women," Tailor rolled her eyes, "It's what we do."
Clara snorted at that.
"You, woman," he pointed at Angel, then turned to Tailor, "You, girl. No."
This time Clara burst out laughing as Tailor pouted. It took her a moment to gain her breath again, "Look," she glanced between the Time Lords, "As long as you get me home safe and on time, if you…if you could come find me on days I don't have things planned or…or give me extra time when I get back, everything is great," she added the last part as her reasoning to them earlier had been that she felt too worn out and spread thin, she didn't want them to think it was Danny's fault, the Doctor already wasn't pleased with the man as it was, "I am so sorry. I've had a wobble. It's a big wobble but it's fine. Forget about it. Now, shut up and give me some planets."
"Well," the Doctor looked at his daughter and Mate, pleased to see how widely they were smiling, and nodded, "I'm glad that you said that because you know that one that's made entirely of shrubs..."
"Ni!" Tailor cheered.
"Are you sure about this?"
"Are you?" Clara laughed, "Have you ever been sure about anything?"
"Yes," he said simply, without hesitation, his arms moving around the shoulders of his daughter and Mate, "Never been more sure of anything than my family."
Clara blinked rapidly, looking away so she wouldn't cry, because he was looking at her and she knew, despite her wanting to leave, her flip flopping, he still considered her family, "Me either."
"Then what are we waiting for!?" Tailor cheered, "Let's go!"
Angel laughed and leaned over, pulling a lever to start another mystery tour, very relieved that her family was back together again.
A/N: I hope whatever trip the TARDIS picks next will be a calmer one, I think Angel deserves it after this rather wild ride lol :)
Before I get to the rest of the A/N, I just wanted to give a reminder about when this story will next be updated since I've finished an episode. If all goes to plan, this story will resume with the Flatline episode probably around the 12th or 13th of June. I'm going to finish up Intercession for Sadie and the Doctor and once I get that story squared away (about 8 more chapters) I'll pick this story back up ;)
Onto the chapter notes! :)
But yay! Clara has decided to stay! And, if she has to, to pick the Time Lords over Danny :D I think what Maisie said really got through to her. It's not fair for her to pick the person issuing the ultimatum, when the people on the other end of the spectrum aren't and would never issue the same one. And, really, when she thinks about it, it's sort of like Danny is only seeing the travel aspect and his dislike for the Doctor and not taking into account that the trio have become Clara's family. He's not just asking her to give up time travel, but her family too :( She feels like he's making her choose between two sets of people she loves and it's not fair to her :(
Luckily she seems to have come around to the idea that she deserves better than that. She messed up with Danny in how she handled the travel and not telling him, but she's resolving to go about it in a different way, ease him into it. We'll have to wait and see if that helps in the end }:)
As hard as this episode was on Angel, I actually felt worse for the Doctor in the end. He's struggled so much with the Mating instinct, it's worse now that his child is there too for him to protect. And, much like in the past, where he would react without realizing he had and attack or threaten people who endangered his Mate...he did the same here and it made HIM the one putting Angel in danger :( The Mating instinct had been getting to him since probably when the lab appeared, driving him to protect his Mate at all costs. And when Maisie arrived, he saw a way to protect Angel...by letting himself see the Mummy. With how clever he is, he truly thought he would see it and KNOW what it was and how to stop it. He was wrong. But it was the Mating instinct pushing him to do whatever it took to protect Angel, which led to him infecting himself before he consciously realized the danger it would put her in if the Foretold killed him without regeneration. That's going to be something that will stick with him for a while :(
On a lighter note...we're 20 reviews away from the next sneak peek for Angel :D
Some notes on reviews...
I'm sorry it keeps happening too :( I'm feeling slightly paranoid at the moment. I keep dreading going on tumblr or even looking at reviews for the stories because I keep thinking 'It's been a few years since I posted actively and kept on top of things...it's not going to be a review or an ask, it's going to be a notice that someone plagiarized me while I was gone' and that's not a fun feeling :(
I'm glad you liked the Monty Python reference! :D
No worries, I didn't find it rude! :) I know her name's Bill, it's just one of the TLs still to be posted who's been very active in my head recently (and seriously complaining SO much that I chose to post the Ambassador instead of her) refers to her as Billie to annoy her, and it sort of stuck lol. But I'll be sure to reference her as Bill from here on out, don't want her to be confused with Billie Piper ;)