Penelope; 19, still feeling too fresh out of high-school, lost on what path she really wanted to take through life, riddled with anxieties about her past, present, and future, perhaps a bit too attached to fantastical TV media, and –like most of the working class – had a hatred of Mondays. They marked the end of relaxation time and start of the daily nose-to-the-grindstone routine that saw her out of her apartment by 6:30am, slogging away behind a counter and worn down by unruly costumers from 7am to 6pm, home again by 7pm, and dead in bed by an unfair 8pm. It'd been that way for just over a year since graduating, but still, she hated Mondays; and this week's start was a special kind of hell.
It was her own fault, really, but you'd catch her dead long before she admitted that out loud. She'd made the mistake of letting herself relax a bit too much this past weekend, settling onto her couch Friday morning and almost becoming apart of it by Sunday night. Normally she was at least a little productive, going out shopping or for a walk around the block, but this coming Monday was her 19th birthday so she'd decided to do her celebrating while she had the time off and the chance to properly decompress. With no word from her ever absent family – aside from the two stray generic 'Have a Happy Birthday!' comments on her Facebook wall from her mum and distant cousin – Penelope wiggled into a groove on the plush grey two-seater warped up in the doona she'd dragged from her bed, plonked a sandwich on the tiny coffee table to snack on, and turned the TV over to Netflix. Immediately flicking down to the one show still sitting in her favourites list; her no. 1 comfort media Doctor Who. She never got tired of watching it even after all these years. Whenever she had enough time to spare and her attention wasn't caught by something new she was happy to re-watch from the beginning of the Ninth Doctor all the way to the latest episode, and that's exactly what she was going to do to celebrate. Another binge. Even better was that the newest episode with Eleven was going to air Monday night, she was hoping to learn more about the newest companion Clara or at least get a hint about what was up with her already appearing and dying twice, even with her still very much missing the Pond TARDIS family.
So she had settled in, started her binge, and made the passive mistake of staying up way too late – not only through Friday and Saturday night – all the way through Sunday night, ending up falling asleep sometime during the end of The Runaway Bride; barely seeing David Tenant grinning away after the Doctor had made it snow. Unsurprisingly ending up sleeping through her alarm and waking up on the couch sometime past 7-in-the-morning with a crick in her neck, a numb arm with festering pins and needles, and strained eyes from going without her glasses for so long. That was what she got.
Penelope rolled over, swiping her phone up off the carpet where it'd fallen during the night to check the time – she cursed loudly when she saw the big 7:40am through her lashes and rolled off of the couch quickly, managing to land in a steady crouch before hoping up into light jog toward the bathroom – if she was lucky she could get ready in a flat 10 and be out of the house before 8. No one knew she walked to and from work so spouting something about traffic trouble was her best bet for an excuse. Her Manager, Reggie, was an older man barely starting to grey who gave people the benefit of the doubt whenever he could slip it past the higher-ups, so she needn't worry about him being a stickler about this. She hadn't had an off day since high-school and she wasn't going to let herself fall back into that pattern now. That reassurance calmed her nerves enough to stop her from a potential anxiety attack but it didn't stop her from slipping and almost tripping on the mat by the shower in her haste, but she managed to grab hold of the counter just in the nick of time, steadying and turning herself to face the mirror in one fluid twist of the wrist. Oh, nice, let's pretend I'm always this smooth – Least it wasn't'a run inwith the doorway this time.She broke a halfhearted crooked smile at her ragged reflection before yanking off the baggy T-shirt she'd lounged in yesterday, opting to keep the boxers since she'd swapped them out just last night, and swished it into the hamper that sat in the corner. She shuddered at the sudden biting cold before picking up a brush and yanking it harshly through the short mop of black that sat like a bird's nest on her head; 2, 4, 6, strokes, and the knots where undone and her hair sat like it always did, a plain straight-cut bob that curled around her cheeks just short of her jawline. That's why it was kept like that, short meant easy to manage and more time saved, she'd never really cared for long hair like the rest of the women in her family (and her distant cousin Michaell) seemed to and had revelled in cutting it the second she'd been old enough to not get told off for it. Meaning the day she'd moved out – that had been an agonising 8 year wait in the making.
She passed over her meagre makeup collection flippantly, grabbing the toothpaste and electric toothbrush that stood on charge just beside it and buzzed her teeth. She never saw the point to wearing makeup herself – outside of the scarce few fancy events she'd been to in her life, namely her high-school Formal – even when she'd had horribly acne that left scars. She just couldn't bring herself to cake her face and cover up the one thing she loved about her appearance even when hitting self-esteem rock bottom most her adolescent life; the dark beauty spot that sat off to the right on her chin. She had it almost her whole life and cherished it for almost as long too, her one defining feature that helped pick her out among a sea of dark haired relatives. Still she wasn't against makeup, she indulged in lipstick and eyeliner on her better days and held a lot of respect for the people that could sit for hours and paint their faces like the finest of artists, she was simply happy with the way she was without it. Also the anxiety of trying not to itch a face full of foundation the one day she'd tried at age 14 had nearly driven her mad in the middle of a wedding, so never again would she volentarily subject herself to that. Enough general anxiety buzzed about her head in her day-to-day, adding another variable into the mix was bullying herself.
Spitting in the sink, rinsing her brush and mouth, and towelling her face dry, Penelope finished up her bathroom prep with seven minutes to spare and padded out to her bed that sat right outside the door; sometimes she forgot just how small her one-room apartment was. She dug through the pile of clothes sat there from being tossed down haphazardly after Saturday's laundry run, resolving to put it away after work; shimmying into a plain white singlet and black jeggings before sliding on her red uniform polo and the plainest of socks. She shivered again and rubbed at her arms, wishing not for the first time, that her job offered a winter uniform shirt instead of those ugly thick and itchy jackets she couldn't stand to use. Her teeth even began to chatter as she bent to scoop up her runners "Jesus, why's'it cold? It's still Summer."
Thumping back onto the bed with a sigh she didn't even bother to undo her laces before forcing her feet in, standing and tapping her toes to the ground to check they still fit before heading to the door; bending and scooping up her phone, wallet, and glasses from the coffee table as she passed. She paused at the door long enough to slide on her circular thin-rimmed glasses – the type that made her already wide, chocolate eyes look impossibly wider – and unhook the keys from the wall before unlocking the door and pushing it open – but she froze, almost literally, as soon as she took a step through. Because waiting right outside was a raging storm. Wind and rain blew over the railing and pelted her harshly even from where she stood in the door way, making her sputter and throw her hands up in a weak defence. Still the drops felt like icy needles even through her clothes with the force of the wind.
"What the hell is this!?" she moaned and wiped the water from her glasses only for more water to drown them again immediately after, "Are you kidding me!? S'mid Summer! I'was barely even cloudy yestaday! Aaaaaagh."
"Ya'll'rite there, Pen?" Penelope shielded her face and looked to her left to see whoever called her, spotting her older neighbour Craig sticking his head out through his cracked open door, and looking like he was almost trying not to laugh. "Dreadful weather, ay? Least it ain't hail, I'd be fucked with Derek still owin' me a winda." He kept grinning away despite his whining, taking a swig of the beer in his hand.
Penny vaguely remembered hearing about Craig's longtime mate, Derek, going headfirst through his back window in a drunken stupor last month during one of their late night 'catch-ups'. She was pretty sure she'd woken up to the crash and subsequent roars of laughter from Craig – he seemingly took it in stride and wasn't too put out about it but Derek was yet to show his face around the block since.
Craig was a hulking man somewhere in his late 40s with salt and pepper hair always combed back atop his head in juxtaposition with his long and wild beard; he was round and as thick as a bear with arms like tree trunks – that Penelope knew from experience gave some intense hugs – he looked and acted every bit like the retired Bikey he was. If you looked past his beaming smile and cheesy pun shirts he always loved to wear, that is. Penelope had been absolutely terrified of the man when she'd moved in the beginning of last year – not in small part thanks to a few issues she'd had with men in the past – shrinking away when she'd passed him in the downstairs lobby, and almost jumping out of her skin whenever he'd shoot a gruff greeting her way, but that had shifted quickly when Penny had gone to the next door down from Craig's the night before her high-school finals started and went off at the Uni' students that were partying way too loudly. She'd been stressed beyond belief, already tired from too many all-night-ers of cramming, and absolutely lost it when the student who had answered the door laughed drunkenly in her face after she'd politelyasked them to keep it down so she could sleep. She'd yelled louder then the music, making more then a few people poke their heads out of their flats, before stupidly shoving the drunk bastard and storming back to her room in frustrated tears. As she'd passed Craig's flat though, he'd slipped out the door with a frightening scowl that she'd thought was directed at her at first, before he'd slipped past her as well to pounded on the students' door. As soon as they'd opened it he snagged the guy by the collar and lifted him clear off the ground and up to his face to mutter something Penelope didn't hear over the music into his ear, before dropping the suddenly ashen-faced student straight on his ass. Craig had rounded on her as soon as the door had closed and the music was cut, but instead of being told off like she had expected he'd just split into a warm grin, gone to place a large hand on her shoulder but respectfully dropped it when she'd shrunk away and just asked if she "wanted to come in for a cuppa hot chocolate and a biccy." Penelope couldn't have turned him down even if she wanted to, and that night they'd become quick friends of sorts, especially after he'd sheepishly admitted to having a soft spot for her as soon as she'd moved in because she had an uncanny resemblance to his granddaughter.
"Did I miss a weather warning or somethin'?" Penelope whined back to Craig in reply, still being pelted harshly by the rain, with her mood getting doused just as quickly. "I only just woke up! Now I gotta walk through this!"
Craig shook his head with a laugh, slipping out his door completely with an umbrella in his other hand which he opened and held pointed towards the railing, shielding mostly Penelope from the rain since he was too wide to fit. "Figured, I was knockin' on yer door when I didn't hear ya leave, was a bit worried. But lucky you then, love, news is yabbering on about flash floods on the roads 'round here – best shoot Reg a message and stay in while ya can. That's what I'm doin'." He took another swig of his beer before using his umbrella to shoo her back in her open door. "Go on, back in with ya, yer already lookin' like a drowned possum. I'll bring in some o' that hot choccy you like in a bit, ay?"
Penelope let him shoo her through the door, grinning back at him despite being partially drowned and blinded by water, tone teasing. "Oh yea, lucky me, Craig's Hot Choccy special on a day like this? Whadda win."
Craig smacked her lightly over the head with his wet but closed umbrella before starting to back up to his door as he shot back just as playfully; "Oi, cheeky. Ya keep talkin' like that lil' miss and you ain't gettin' nothing."
She closed her door once he'd gone inside his own flat, leaving it unlocked for him to come in with the drinks later. She paused, frowning a little at the water puddle that had formed in front of the door before sighing and going off to get towels from the bathroom. Once one had been stomped down by the door she used another to start mopping at her hair in frustration, using the end to also wipe at her glasses.I swear t'god if I catch a cold. Once that was done she threw the towels and her uniform shirt into the hamper, having changed into a dry button-down and forest green turtleneck, before throwing her blanket back onto her bed haphazardly and settling onto the two-seater; now she just had to wait for Craig. Not wanting to wait with just the sound of rain for company, though, She flicked the TV on and smiled when she saw it still sitting on the 'Are you still watching?' Netflix screen. She grinned even wider when she saw the episode starting to play after she clicked 'yes' was Utopia – an all time favourite.
About ten minutes into the episode – after she'd remembered to shoot a message to her manager – there were three solid knocks at the door before Craig let himself in with a cheer, slightly wet from the rain, "Wha-hey! Choccy's here!" He held a large thermos full of the stuff in one hand, and a little wrapped up box in the other that caught Penelope's attention when he put it and the thermos down on the coffee table by her propped up feet. "And don't ya think for a second I forgot what t'day is; Happy Birthday, Pen!"
Craig paused and hovered long enough to let her know what he was up to and have a chance to object if she wanted, before he swooped down and scooped her off the couch in a firm hug, dumping her back down with a grin. Then he was shuffling back towards her kitchenette – shooting her a pointed look and a finger wag on the way. "No peeking while I get the cups."
"Yes, Dad." She mocked at him, waving her hands in the air to make a point that she wasn't touching it as she turned back to the TV, skin still prickling where he'd touched her but still beaming away the whole time. Ever since she'd moved out of her Mum's she honestly hadn't expected to spend a birthday in anyone's pleasant company but her own – but here life was, proving her wrong.
Bar the weather, maybe today won't be so bad this year…
Penelope didn't even glance at the present again until hours later.
Craig and her barely stopped their chattering the entire time they spent together that day, drinking hot chocolate and half-watching Doctor Who as it played in the background, all the while they laughed, smiled, and generally just enjoyed each others company. Though, like most things, it didn't last forever – halfway through telling a story about his unruly daughter from when she was young, Craig had glanced at the time and paused before sending an apologetic smile her way.
"Sorry, love, gonna have to cut this short. S'almost 8 and I was plannin' on using t'day to catch up on me Zs. I'm especially gonna need it with all this bloody rain puttin' all my contract work behind." Craig stood with a brief groan about his back, scooping up his empty thermos before giving Penelope's head a firm pat. "Tell ya what; if it's still pissing down tomorra I'll come hang 'round again."
Penelope made a face and waved his hand away from her head but then fell back into a smile when she stood and pulled him down into a brief hug. "I'll take you up on that if I stay in, got some sick days built up." She gave him a few firm pats on the back before she pulled away, turned him around, and gave a gentle shove towards the door. "Off ya go then, go get you a nap."
"Oi, watch where yer shovin'. You put me back out and I'll be lookin' a lot more like yer couch than you'll like, m'already round enough." Craig pointed his thermos at her threateningly before he broke out into a grin and shuffled his way over to the door. He paused and shot her one last look before opening the door and stepping out, calling over the wind and rain; "Tell me what ya think of ya present tomorra, love. I'm bettin' ya'll like it but I'm never too sure ay."
She called back to him as he shut the door. "I will! Watch the rain and don't get sick on me!"
She sat there beaming for a few quiet moments, listening out for the sound of his door opening and closing over the rain before she relaxed into the couch with a content, smaller but ever present, smile. Today was great… She smoothed her hands down the tops of her thighs absentmindedly, watching the TV but not really absorbing the episode it played before taking a deep breath, dropping her smile with a sigh, and standing to grab her mug and rinse it. Even with the patter of rain, howling of wind, and the distant chatter of the Doctor it suddenly felt much too quiet and small in her flat – she'd hoped to avoid this empty feeling by working today and tiring herself out – this was only the second birthday she'd spent away from family and friends and she was really feeling it. Taking extra pain to thoroughly wash and dry the cup in an attempt to keep her mind and hands busy for as long as possible, she felt herself sink a little bit further into that black little bubble that always sat waiting in the back of her mind – she'd been hoping to avoid that too. Muttering a quiet "stop it." to herself, Penelope shuffled over to her electric kettle and boiled herself a cuppa in a quick decision to go drown out her sorrows in an almost literal sense; she wasn't going to sit and let herself fall back into her bleak little pattern after everything she'd done to avoid it.
Scooping up Craig's forgotten present in one hand and holding a steaming mug of English Breakfast tea in the other she slid the glass door to her verandah open with a foot, happy to see the wind blew out the other way and stopped her from getting soaked when she plopped into the single wicker chair that sat out there. She sat her tea down but held the present in her lap, fingering it absentmindedly as she watched the rain roar and the blue lightning flash distantly. Penelope, even with her earlier whining about walking through it, adored storms and the atmosphere they brought with them – to her it felt like the world went still; that time stopped, and the noise washed out all her chattering thoughts and depressions. They soothed her. Taking a deep breath in through the nose she closed her eyes and relished the smell of ozone and water with a ghost of a smile before settling back and eyeing the little blue wrapped box still in her lap.
"Le'see what you got for me, Craigsly…" The wrapping paper was clumsily done, and so easily undone, revealing the clear plastic box that had Penelope beaming at what was inside. "Aw… you remembered…"
She gingerly popped open the box and pulled out the cheap little metal replica of a fob watch, tracing a thumb over the circular Gallifreyan on the front briefly before popping it over her head with a chuckle, the chain just being long enough to fit over her head and leave the watch resting in the space bellow her collarbone. She'd used to have one exactly like this when she was younger, never took it off, never went anywhere without it, until the chain snapped one day and the actual watch part had fallen and split into pieces, leaving her feeling lacking for a long time after – she'd told Craig this little tidbit amidst her yammering on about her love for Doctor Who, he must have remembered. The gesture was so small on his part but Penelope found herself moved to tears as she stared down at the thing cupped in her hands; she chuckled wetly and wiped her eyes clear before she decided another distraction was in order. She picked her tea back up, stood, and rested her arms over the railing as she lent against it. Taking a sip, she watched the distant lightning, and not at all bothered by the light bits of rain that managed to make it under the lip of her upstairs neighbour's verandah and spattered her. Already, the watch felt like it belonged right where it was, she wasn't ever going to take it off if she could help it.
She peeked down at the ally her verandah faced, finding and frowning at a particular box that sat unassuming in the corner next to the unused donation bins. A family of strays lived there, her own little secret that she fed every afternoon that she had the time to; it had started out as one round cat that she'd resolved to look after that day before she could get home and call a shelter or someone to pick it up, but then she'd come home and realised that cat hadn't been fat but pregnant. Three little kittens had been born in the time it took her to slog through her shift and make it back and – upon finding not a single shelter around had a No-Kill Policy – she didn't have it in her heart to willingly hand them over to a potentially bitter end. The very thought still made her stomach churn uncomfortably, they were just so small, so defenceless in this big old world who's first thought was killing them off before they could multiply. It never seemed fair to Penelope, it wasn't like they'd asked to be here – she wished so often that there wasn't a No Pets clause on this apartment block, she'd take them in out of the cold in a heart beat no matter the strain on her already stretched-thin budget.
She frowned and cupped her cup a little tighter – relishing in the warmth that seeped into her almost constantly icy fingers – and resolved to dig out her old rain coat and run it down to cover the box when her cuppa was done. She didn't think she could take it if this storm washed away the little fuzzy babies.
Suddenly, the loudest crack of thunder boomed overhead, making Penelope jump and slosh her scolding tea right onto her hands. She yelped and dropped it on reflex, immediately trying to scramble and catch it right after.
"Ah- shoot- no!" She half hung over the railing, barely missing the handle of the mug as it brushed right by her finger tips, and watched it tumble down. "So much for a good day…"
Just as it faintly shattered bellow there was another flash and boom, making her jerk back up and grip the railing to stop herself from tumbling over after it. But to her shock – almost literally, as she felt the static in the air rise around her and her hair stand on end – the lightning in the clouds had changed. A huge ball of crackling, golden lightning sat focused in the clouds not too far in front of her, tendrils breaking off and writhing in the air like jagged snakes. And she had a second – barely enough to suck in an astonished breath but what felt like an eternity as time slowed – before she was struck dead centre by one of the golden vipers.
"Geronimo"
She was being yanked in all directions, ripped apart, shredded, dissolved; everything she was reduced to nothing and then put back together what felt like millions of times over in a moment – she couldn't even scream out her pain, her lungs had collapsed, her diaphragm just convulsed.
And then she was stumbling and falling, and hitting the freezing floor hard, left there to gasp through the pain deliriously for what felt like an eternity to her pain-addled mind. She was sure she'd blacked out because next thing she knew she was opening her eyes to an unbearably searing pain that bloomed from her chest and felt like it pulsed along with every heartbeat.
Penelope wheezed and moaned, edging herself slowly up off where she lay on her front – every inch feeling like torture that made her arms feel like jelly. Her hands almost slipping on the metal bellow her from sweat several times. She wailed soundlessly as she slumped against a wall to her left, barely up on her knees, and tears streamed down her face. Everything was agony, she felt like she'd been baked from the inside out, that everything was blistered and bruised, like she'd been dunked in lava. She could barely think through it all – she didn't want to think through it even – she just wanted to lay there and wait for whatever had happened to her to pass. And she would have done just that if she hadn't pried her eyes open – after squeezing them shut from the pain – and seen exactly where she was. Delirious from the pain or not, realising she was in what looked like a steaming boiler room made her cold with fright, had she stumbled here in her delirium? She needed medical help, would anyone even find her here?
With a high pitched moan, she grabbed hold of the ladder that sat secured to the wall just in front of her with shaking hands and yanked herself up without a second thought only to collapse against it with a sob when every nerve in her body seemed to flare back up in pain. She wheezed, leaning her feverish forehead against one of the rungs; "P… please… please…" She grit her teeth and stumbled back onto her feet, making an attempt to climb the ladder only for her knees to almost instantly give out and send her reeling back into the opposite wall with an echoed bang.
Penelope screamed. Loud. Then let her legs give and dropped down to the floor. The pain was unbearable, she couldn't move like this, she couldn't even speak. So she stayed slack against the wall, the metal cold and almost soothing through her turtleneck, and she could feel herself slipping back into deep unconsciousness – but this time she happily welcomed it. Anything to set away from whatever agony this was.
Please… make it stop…
"-enny! Penny! Penelope! Please, you've got to wake up!"
Penelope barely registered someone calling her and patting lightly at her cheeks, before the unending miserable pain came flooding back making her writhe and whimper breathlessly. "S-stop…"
The voice and patting just became more incessant, frantic even. "Oh thank heavens! Penny- Penny, come on, you've got to tell me what happened. Penny, can you hear me?"
Penelope moaned and forced her eyes open, trying her best to bat away the hands that wouldn't stop touching her and making more hurt flare up, but all that did was make herself hurt more so she just gave up and let her arms flop back down beside her uselessly. She squinted up at a pair of green eyes in confusion, trying to see who exactly was bothering her, and the rest of the their face slowly came into focus.
"Oh hey…was needin'…a Doctor…" She smiled weakly, panting through the words.
The 11th Doctor smiled back at her, just happy to see she was finally responsive after trying so long to rouse her, before his face fell again when his eyes fluttered over her in concern; noting the high fever he could already feel burning through her cheeks as he cupped her face and the worryingly fresh third degree burns he could see peeking out from beneath the burnt hole in her tops. He shifted to kneeling, rather than crouching, in front of her and gently ran a thumb through the tear tracks on her cheek soothingly. She winced as the touch flared her pain and he winced sympathetically with her and muttered a quick apology. She was obviously feeling much worse than she looked, he was just glad she was awake and talking now. When he'd gone off looking for the engine room he'd been assuming this was just one of those 'adventures' Penelope would miss – so coming down the ladder to find her sprawled out against the wall, unconscious, alone, and looking like death had been a very unwelcome shock to his hearts.
"Penny," The Doctor started lowly, catching her glazed over eyes to make sure she was hearing him, "tell me what happened. I can help."
Penny's brows scrunched as she tried to sort through the pounding in her head and think back to what exactly happened but it was all hazy, a blur that didn't really make sense and just slipped further away the more she tried to think it through. "I… I don't… I jus' fell asleep I think…? I mean, I'm obviously dreami-a-AH!" She suddenly jerked and cut off with a strangled shriek, back arching like she'd been shocked and writhed out of the Doctor's hands. He moved to grip her shoulders instead, trying to hold her still so she wouldn't writhe and hurt herself more.
"Penny! Calm down! Just- just- just- just take a deep breath, okay?" The Doctor stammered out frantically, hearts pounding. Last he'd seen her like this… she'd… No, that's her future- she's younger; too young, much, much too young. Something's gone wrong with a younger Penny and I have to fix it.
Penny thrashed for a few more moments before slumping bonelessly against the wall with her eyes squeezed tight – barely wheezing through grit teeth because every breath felt like someone was twisting a red-hot knife in her chest – she moaned and reached up to try and pry the burnt edges of her sweater and dress-shirt away from where the pain was the worst only for the Doctor to catch her hand quickly and gently, yet firmly, push it back down.
"No, no, no, you mustn't touch it." He murmured, eyeing her hands to make sure she wasn't going to try to again, before reaching up and very carefully moving the edges aside himself. Penny whimpered and weakly tried to slap his hands away, making him wince sympathetically again; "Sorry, sorry. Just having a look – seeing what's wrong so I can help." She relaxed as well as she could and dropped her hands, and he took that as the go ahead. Moving the cloth enough to get a clear view of the burns he almost smacked himself for being an idiot and not realising what had caused them; they where in the same place, same pattern and same severity, so he really should have put it together sooner.
The Doctor frowned at the fob watch newly impeded deep in Penny's chest, just bellow her collarbone, and the horridly charred skin around it. Golden tendrils still spilled from it only to drift off and faded away into the air, the metal still burning to the touch and lightly smoking – this was what was causing her discomfort, in more ways than just the painful burns. He'd been right about this Penny being much too young. She wasn't just young, she was new. Brand new; she won't even understand what's happening to her at all. She won't even realise this is real. She won't even… know me. The Doctor swallowed thickly, looking away from the dreaded watch that would plague them both for years to come just on time to catch her staring at him from under her lashes, and still obviously feverish and very out of it. He gave her his best boyish smile – the type she would always love – knowing today wouldn't be any fun, for either of them, and reached up to cup her chin and tap a thumb over her beauty spot on reflex. Oh Penelope… my lucky Penny…"You've got some nasty burns and some… slight nerve damage, but don't you fret. We'll get you back to the TARDIS and right as rain in no time." He bopped her nose playfully, smiling softly when she crossed her eyes to look just a bit too late with her reflexes dulled but still smiled back at him anyway, albeit a little confused. He pushed himself back up with a sigh and offered her his hand before thinking better of it and bending down to hold her steady under the arms instead, catching her eyes to make sure she was listening again. "Lets try to get you on your feet, okay? Just push with your feet on the count of three-"
He counted down slow enough to make sure she was ready before hoisting her up as she shoved with shaking legs. They barely made it halfway up the wall before Penny collapsed with hoarse cry, her legs giving out. The Doctor held her weight easily and eased her back down to the floor gently in fear of hurting her more.
"Okay… well, that plan's out the window. Fat lot of good. Nerves are still too raw, still cooking, actually more like overcooked – burnt even – got to let them cool." The Doctor wrung his hands as he rattled on anxiously with a frown. His mind was racing, thoughts rapid fire through his head as he tried to grasp the right one that would help, falling into his usual habit of rambling aloud to sort through them properly, sometimes his mind was just to quick and full of useless things for the rest of him to narrow anything down in a timely manner. "It's like a sunburn – littlest touch feels like a slap – except all over and on the inside- a reverse sunburn." he paused and frowned before shaking his head, his mind had veered off track. "No, no. That's freezer-burn… Ah! Wait- no, no, no! That's right, she said- stupid Doctor, she said!"
Remembering something an older Penny had mentioned back in Leadworth the Doctor shoved a hand into one of his tweed pockets, going elbow-deep as he rummaged frantically and muttered about figuring out a way to 'organise'. He pulled something out with a quack and stared at the little rubber duck with thick drawn on angry eyebrows in his hand before scrunching his face and shoving it in the other pocket. "Oh not now, Chuck." He went right back to searching before this time pulling out a small pill bottle with a grin and giving it a thankful kiss; "Ah-ha, there we go! Knew she told me to bring these along for a reason."
He crouched back in front of Penny – who'd been watching him scramble for a bit then just decided to shut her eyes and focus on breathing through her teeth, now she was watching him again with hooded eyes – and popped the cap to offer her one of the small, bright blue pills that were so neon they almost had the illusion of glowing.
Penny eyed the pill uncertainly, wondering if it was a painkiller, before lulling her head back to look at the smiling Doctor. She knew better then to trust most things in her dreams, especially when they were as lucid and painful as this one. "Wassit?" Her words were slurred and whiny, finding it hard to move her mouth right through all the pain.
"Medicine." The Doctor clarified lightly, expression falling at the distrust in her eyes. "Extremely fast acting, very efficient, and no nasty side effects. Aaaaand-" He reached back into his pocket again and pulled out a glass of water with a flourish, smile plastered back on his face. "-Ta-dah! One glass of water to help you take it."
She wet her lips nervously before deciding that the risk of horrible dream death by dream poison was far better then constant dream pain – sometime she really disliked being as vivid a dreamer as she was, she could do without the not-so-phantom pains that came with them, really. Her hand twitched, nerves fried, before she actually managed to move it to pick up the pill then she took one more moment to eye it before throwing it back and swallowing it with a grimace. Swallowing pills dry never got easier but she wasn't about to drink water from a pocket, dream or not.
As soon as she took it the Doctor beamed and leaned over to barley brush his lips to her temple, taking a moments to cradle her head to his cheek a bit impulsively, oblivious to Penny's discomfort at the lingering touch. Then he was pulling away just as quickly, putting the glass down beside her, and standing with a bit of a hop. "Right, you stay right there, relax, and wait for it to work it's magic. Shouldn't take longer then a few minutes but it won't be able to numb everything – all the strong stuff is on the TARDIS – but you'll be able to get around at least."
Penny watched him reach into his jacket and flick out his Sonic Screwdriver as he talked, scanning around with that familiar whirr in a circle before settling on the wall she lent on. He frowned, eyes fluttering briefly over the results before he tucked away the Sonic and moved to feel a hand against the wall briefly before just pressed the whole side of his face to listen instead. He was silent for a long moment then glanced down at her with raised brows, speaking lowly; "Do you feel that?"
She frowned, confused, because even with her whole back leaning against the wall he was suspicious of (and even still trying to work through the fading pain) she couldn't feel anything off. Not a vibration, pulse, or tick. "What? I don' feel anythin'."
"Clever girl, exactly." He pushed away from it, waggling a finger at her pointedly but his eyes were back on the wall, "Exactly… But that's just wrong." He frowned, eyes going distant and going quiet while his mind tried to tumble over the causes as he stared the wall down, his finger coming up to sit on his chin in thought (a habit he hadn't quiet been able to kick through all these centuries since Penny had pointed out that he even did it.)
Penny couldn't help but stare when he stopped, went still and quiet, because it honestly just looked wrong. Wrong and unnatural, on this Doctor especially; he was always running around, rambling off and flapping his hands, or dancing. The only time the show even showed him anything like this was when he was sad, quiet and sad. She frowned and forced her eyes away, not wanting to be caught staring, and took this moment of down time to look past him and note down her surroundings now that the painkiller was really starting to work as quickly as the Doctor had said and she wasn't in blind agony. What she'd thought had been a boiler room, since all she had been able to make out was steam, low lights and metal, was actually something more like a maintenance tunnel if the yellow guidelines painted on the floor and fuse-boxes lining the wall was any indication; no wonder there had been a ladder out of there. She frowned as she felt something nag at the back of her mind but brushed it off. Something about this place was familiar, she just couldn't place it. She was distracted, though, by another pulse of pain from her chest, reminding her that the Doctor had mentioned something about burns…
She hesitantly peeled the edges of the hole in her clothes open for a better look – thankful her subconscious hadn't just burned her sweater and shirt away entirely, dream or not she would have felt extremely uncomfortable – cringing at the actual sight of the burns. Looking at it, and the way the pocket watch seemed to be melted into her, made the pain flare up and nausea to churn her stomach. She quickly looked away to avoid throwing up, but still gagged lightly. Jesus, of all the things for my dreams t'stop being vague about… Gore. I hate gore. Her head swam and she suddenly felt light headed, making her groan, push her glasses up on her head and rest her face in her palms to rub at her eyes tiredly. Taking a deep breath and slowly dragging her hands down her face, Penny could feel a prickly heat crawl over her skin – not to do with the pain, more like static – the type that signalled the start of an oncoming sensory overload for her. She was feeling overwhelmed. In a dream.
That was new.
"Are you alright?" A hand brushed her shoulder, startling her into jerking back and smacking the back of her head against the wall with a loud, hallow 'thunk'. She moaned and curled in on herself as she rubbed at her head, eyeing the Doctor through her lashes from where he was crouched in front of her again. She hadn't even heard him move, she'd almost be impressed that someone as all over as him could do that if that didn't frighten her just a bit. That was negated a little by the way he sat with an expression akin to one someone would have after they'd accidentally kicked a puppy, though, before it shifted to a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes and he very deliberately pulled his hand away and shuffled back from her so he wasn't as close (all done in the slow, cautious way someone would move when backing up from a frightened animal). Then he spoke, much softer, smile turning tight. "I startled you… sorry."
"Please don't do that!" She snipped back between shuddered breaths to try and calm her racing heart, moving a hand from her head to brush it over the shoulder he'd touched, trying to brush away the lingering feeling of his hand like someone would brush away stray dirt. She swallowed thickly, brows frowning in distress at how real that had felt, and feeling something icy settle in her gut that she refused to acknowledge right then. When she spoke up again her tone was softer to match his – already feeling that rueful self-hatred at reacting so harshly, falling back into the same old cycle – sliding her glasses back down onto her nose. "Sorry, I jus'… please jus'… don't touch me. 'Specially when I can't see it comin'."
The Doctor tipped his head in agreement and made a show of raising his hands amicably, that same tight-lipped smile still on his face. "I won't…" He braced his hands on his knees and pushed himself up, smile falling into a more serious tight line. "Penelope…"
Her eyes snapped up to his just a little too quickly for it to be played off as casual, when he'd said her full name so lowly like that it had sent a not-quite-unpleasant shiver down her spine.
"I would never ever hurt you." His eyes were burning into hers so intensely and unblinkingly she swore he was staring right through to her soul, but she couldn't find the will to turn away, cut the connection before he saw too deep. Then the moment was broken as he clapped his hands and turned with a twist of the foot. "Right, back to work!"
She was left blinking in bewilderment from the floor as he flounced off, eyes wide and feeling a little disorientated by his sudden mood shift before turning to bow her head and shut her eyes again. The hand that had been cradling her sore slipped through her hair in agitation and wiped at the sweat on on her brow before she let it drop – the one on her shoulder stayed firm in place, clawed into her sweater. Really, wasn't that just textbook Doctor; always deflecting when things get a bit too 'real' and popping off to do something else – or jabber on to change the subject. Then again, wasn't that everyone? Penelope herself did it quite a lot the last few years; kept people at arms length, she just avoided admitting it to herself. She was noticing she was more like the Doctor then she realised, maybe that's why she'd grown so attached to Eleven so quickly. She just wished her subconscious wasn't bleeding out her trauma on him now – it was all making this feel uncomfortably real.
The wall at her back was suddenly too cold but her skin still too hot as whatever had been burning her up from the inside was being chased away by the painkiller, she wanted her sweater off too – it was making it uncomfortable to breathe with the way the coarse edges rubbed against her raw skin every time she breathed. Penny scrunched her nose and pushed forward – happy to feel the pill had done its job completely when she felt more of a sprain than the overwhelming agony she had been in before – and slid her sweater off. Flinching and hissing quietly only when it stuck to the skin around the watch slightly before peeling away, like it had been baked on. Before she folded it she used it to mop at the sweat on her brow, frowning as she finally noticed just how hot she was feeling. Was that a fever? Was she running a fever now? She did still feel light-headed, and like something was scratching lowly at the back of her mind. A headache maybe.
Wetting her lips with her tongue, she also noticing just how dry her mouth was feeling, and pushed herself up slowly while using the wall to steady herself encase her legs gave out – which was good considering they shook like leafs the whole way up. Once she was sure she wasn't going keel over she folded her sweater over an arm, bent down to pick up the cup of water (deciding that maybe the taste of pocket water was worth chasing away the sticky feeling in the back of her throat), and padded over to where the Doctor had just sonic-ed open one of the fuse-boxes on the opposite wall.
It still hurt to move anything but it wasn't crippling like before.
He was holding the fuse-box open and looking in at the hanging wires with a set expression but his eyes were distant yet again, she took it for him just being lost in thought as he tried to unravel what was going on again, and she would have been half right. He'd gone over to the box with the idea of throwing himself headfirst back into investigating as a distraction, but his thoughts had gotten trapped in her, on her reaction to him, of how she had that look in her eyes like he was just someone she had just passed in the street everyday; she knew his face but she didn't know him. He was wondering if this was how River had felt so ago in The Library, hearts clenching painfully at the idea, when he heard Penny shuffling her way over. He turned to welcome her over with a smile, happy she was joining in instead of loitering back like he'd half expected a so-very-young Penelope to do and didn't want to chase her off with a cold shoulder, but he had to turn away when it fell when all she gave him back was a polite one of her own. Already he was missing those beaming ones she would give him every time she'd pop in and first see him: the type of smile that showed teeth, that brought out those faint little dimples and creased her eyes, and just made her look… beautiful.
He was careful not to let anything in his posture droop because, no matter how 'new' a Penny was, he didn't doubt for a second that she was just as deceptively perceptive and astute as any other Penny he'd encountered.
Penny's forced smile dropped as soon as the Doctor's focus was back on the box, her emotional energy for pleasantries long drained by the day spent with Craig (not that the time hadn't been wonderful, but after non-stop smiles and delight sometimes she really needed to let herself just be blank), and for whatever reason right now the Doctor gave her the same gut feeling as meeting any other stranger for the first time would. Even still she moved to him, realising halfway to his side that she didn't have any shoes on, her bare feet slapping on the metal. Whadda way for my dream t'be thorough, bare feet.As soon as she'd settled by his side – not nearly close enough to be touched or accidentally brushed without fair warning – just close enough to let him know she was paying attention to what he was doing. When she sipped at the, surprisingly cold, pocket water he finally spoke up.
"This doesn't make sense, why aren't they connected?" He muttered, eyeing her lightly and hoping she'd take the extended hand to participate.
Take it she did, after a moments hesitation while trying to decide whether he'd spoken to himself or her, but she piped in either way not wanting to leave the air quietly open and awkward. "What- Whadda they?"
"Power couplings; they're supposed to pass around great big bits of electricity." He answered eagerly, turning to her with a smile before gesturing to the box and stretching his hands apart in an exaggerated mime of just how much energy they handled, eyes going wide with them. Then he was twirling back around and flipping out his sonic again. "These ones specifically are for the engine – so as you can imagine them being dummies is a bit… concerning."
His explanation certainly didn't sit right with her, making her frown, and ask softly around another sip of water. "Yeah, nah, that doesn't sound good… but why woulda maintenance tunnel need engines?"
The Doctor paused in the motion of scanning the couplings to beam away at her (she didn't that this time was a bit more genuine then that last), making her smile back automatically with a bit of awkward confusion before he spoke. Slowly and deliberately, like he was telling a child about a surprise he had tucked away in the cupboard just for them, with an equally as excited gleam in his own eyes. That wasn't an inaccurate description either; this was Penny's first trip – her first taste of stardust and adventure – and he'd been eager to see this moment – to see the way her eyes would go wide and she'd get caught in a surprise smile just wide enough for her front teeth to peek through – for the very first time, since he'd met her. And that moment was now. "Because, Ms Cross, weare on a spaceship. Welcome to Starship UK."
It took a moment for Penny to properly absorb what he'd said, stuck staring at him for a moment, but then the Doctor wasn't at all disappointed; her eyes went wide and gleaming, in an almost cartoon-ish way, and her head whipped back so fast to look at the ceiling in a vain attempt to maybe see the stars out there that he was almost afraid she would give herself whiplash. Disappointingly, all she got was metal piping, so back sown she looked with a pout only to freeze when she came eye-to-eye with the Doctor. Seeing the way he looked to her fully, watching her with the warmest of eyes and softest of smiles she'd ever had directed her way in her life. It made her chest ache; with anxiety or with longing, she wasn't sure, so she shoved it down and chose to blame it on the fob watch stuck there. Unlike most of her other dreams, where at this moment she'd leap into his arms and kiss him breathless, all she wanted to do was step away and break whatever moment was happening here.
"Don't pout. The stars aren't going anywhere, you'll see them another time. I promise." The Doctor seemed to go to tap her nose again but pulled back last moment when he saw her flinch – he'd forgotten, no touching. Young Penny, so much more afraid. He gave her a smile, acknowledging the moment effectevly broken, before turning back to the trouble at hand. He could let her explore to her heart's content later but first he had to make sure the ship they were on wasn't in any danger, he didn't want her first time with him to be a bad one. "First thing's first; what does this sound like to you?"
He knocked at the wall above the fuse-boxes, relaxing as he watched her doe-in-headlights expression vanish as she focused attention on the sound and listened intently – even brand new, not knowing anything, she was still eager to help; it made him proud.
He had to fight off another fond smile, no use taking a step forward and two steps back by making her uncomfortable.
"Sounds flimsy- no, hallow. Why's'it hallow?" She looked to him for answers, brows barely creased.
He couldn't help a grin, happy to see she'd picked up on the issue so quickly, but then it fell away when he got focused again. "Exactly. There's nothing there either, when there should be… Wires and pipes and panels and circuits-" He waved his hands about, pacing away from her as he thought. "-all of those sorts of things, but no, it's all empty. Fake walls just like the fake boxes and fake couplings; all in all this ship shouldn't be flying with an engine this shoddy." He turned back to her, noting how wide her eyes where and how much more pale she was looking. She was getting it. He didn't want her to be too frightened, but awareness was good, awareness kept people alive and if he wanted her to stay safe she needed to be cautious. That would be the lesson he wanted her to learn as early in her life as she could. "If I hadn't seen it myself, flying out there in the stars- if I didn't know any better, I'd almost say-"
"-There isn't an engine at all." Penny finished along with him tightly, clasping both her hands to her glass of water to stop them from shaking as hard as they were. She knew this, she knew where she was dreaming of now, and all it did was make her panic just a little bit more real. Her throat was feeling tight again but a sip of water wouldn't help this time. "Butit can't be…"
"And there it is, the impossible truth."
As Penny jumped with a gasp and turned to the woman who'd appeared out of nowhere, the Doctor spun around and pulled her behind him enough that she had to peek around his shoulder to see her, reeling a little from the fact he'd just grabbed her. The newcomer stood there in her red satin cloak and porcelain mask, all but confirming what Penny already figured out; where exactly she was dreaming about.
The Beast Below
This wouldn't be as fun as she was hoping…
First Doctor Who fic ever and only second fic I've picked up since my 6yr hiatus; I THINK I've done alright so far, might have gotten a bit ramble-y in the first half but what's a fic without a proper set up for the OC ay? Penny's a bit of a blank slate but she'll be properly settling into her early role in the next few chapters and I'm hoping to nail down the long winded character development I have planned for her over the course of this fic, which btw will be spanning to from the 3rd to 13th Doctors. I want this to be a long one. If you do have trouble visualizing Penny, she's the cover image I've drawn for this fic. Now for some proper business – I've admittedly not seen Classic Who beyond the first few episodes of Three, and only own up to about the Four's second episode. So don't hesitate to suggest any episodes you'd like to see Penny take on and I'll try my best to do it, I won't be doing anything from the 1st and 2nd Doctor's though, I want there to be some part of the Doctor's life that Penny isn't present for. I'll be trying my best to throw in original adventures as well, so if now or sometime in the future there's some sort of theme of adventure you want me to take a wack at you're free to pipe in a suggestion for that too! I also ask that if you seen any grammar/spelling mistakes that you don't hesitate to point them out – I try my best to spot them in editing but I am only human. Also please pull me up if I accidentally stray any of the Doctors in OOC territory, that's always my one fear when writing fanfiction, keeping my headcannons in character no matter how deep I go. Though I will be trying to take some liberty with the more modern Doctor's to explore their war trauma in a way the show wasn't able to the best I can. Lastly – I appreciate each and every review I may get, even if it's something you think is small and unimportant. Literally anything makes my day!