Apparently, one of my best friends was still subscribed to my account here and has been reading April Storm despite knowing NOTHING about Doctor Who. This makes me kind of embarrassed, but, yeah. At least my other best friend hasn't read this...yet. Oh, well.

Disclaimer: Doctor Who n'est pas le mien (yay, je n'ai pas besoin de Google Translate!)

Chapter 36: Unusual Methods

"Do you want to help April?" The Doctor asked.

"I understand," Harriet said, as the ambulance came to a stop.

April didn't know what was going on, and she hated it. She also could barely see, which was almost as bad. Possibly worse. Not only was she too confused to think, she had barely any data to contemplate.

Well, that was wrong. She had plenty of data, but it was a mess, just like her thoughts.

"Where are you taking me?" April asked. Mrs. Rice was leading her through the corridors, one of the guards standing behind April and the other behind Mrs. Rice.

Mrs. Rice didn't respond.

"I'm not going to cooperate with you if you don't tell me what you're doing."

Still no response.

"So, you planning on arresting the Doctor in front of a bunch of patients? Very discrete," April said. "There'll be inquiries from UNIT. Which brings me to the question of who you're working with."

Nothing.

"Are you actually a doctor?" April asked. "I'm pretty sure you're violating the Hippocratic oath."

Mrs. Rice turned around. "Stop your infernal chattering and follow me. I'm not going to answer any of your questions."

"Right," April said.

Right, April thought. The Doctor will come, of course. He certainly wouldn't just leave me here, and besides, I know too much for him to risk it getting out. So, once he gets here, he'll probably be allowed through the main hospital.

Finally, Mrs. Rice stopped outside of a white door, identical to all the others. When Mrs. Rice typed something into the keypad, it slid open, and she gestured towards it. The room was a small white cell, identical to the one that April had been in previously. Possibly even the same one.

"The code is different on the inside from the outside, and neither is the same as it was," Mrs. Rice told her. "Now, get in."

April stepped into the room, and the door began to slide shut. "Wait!" April said. "What's going—" There was a mechanical click.

She slumped, sitting down against the wall right by the door. She was trapped. April had never been claustrophobic, but it felt uncomfortable knowing that she was stuck.

Okay. Just because she said the code was different doesn't mean it actually was.

April forced herself to stand up and walk over to the keypad. "456. 394. 435964." The code didn't work, and April sighed, sitting back down at the other side of the room.

April knew that any minute could be her last—maybe it would turn out that they didn't need her knowledge or that she was too dangerous to keep alive.

Maybe they'd send someone to shoot her. Would they tell her why, first? Or would the door just open and April just feel a sudden pain and then darkness?

Or maybe it would be gas. The cell was small, ideal for that. The gas could come in through a vent, since there had to be a vent somewhere.

That was a good point. There had to be a vent.

April looked up. The ceiling was kind of blurry, but she could see something right above the door, small and slightly greyish. That could be where the air was coming from. It was too small to crawl through, and April wasn't sure how she'd reach it.

A deep breath in. The air didn't smell like anything in particular. April felt it come in through her nose, felt flow down her trachea, felt it spread through her lungs. It didn't feel particularly remarkable.

Okay, you're just freaking yourself out, and that's pointless.

April looked up at the blurry maybe-vent, then down again.

The only thing left to do is wait and hope that the Doctor doesn't fall straight into the trap. April closed her eyes. She was very, very tired, and her head still ached.

You've got a chance to think, April told herself. So, think. What is Mrs. Rice's deal?

I don't know.

"Concentrate," April said aloud. "Ask the questions, and then focus on the answers."

What do you know about Mrs. Rice?

I don't even know that that's her name. She certainly looked like Mrs. Rice when I was able to get a closer look at her, but she goes by Dr. Rice and claims that she lived in the UK for—what was it, 12 years? 13? Something like that.

If she's from the Doctor Who universe, that would make sense. There are so many differences, so perhaps one of them is that she's evil in this universe. She moved to the UK and joined whatever weird organization kidnapped me.

Something occurred to her.

She knew who I was.

Obviously.

Well, no, she really knew who I was. She called me April. I'm pretty sure they go by last names in the UK. So, I should've been Miss Storm, or just Storm. Not 'April.'

Okay…

But in the US, most people call kids by their first names. Mrs. Rice was no exception, especially since Jeremy kept getting put in my classes. I was always April, not Miss Storm. It doesn't make sense why she would call me April if she lived here for the past thirteen years and doesn't know me.

That is so not enough evidence.

But it's something. April frowned. Jeremy had an American accent. So…if he's from this universe, how would that make sense? Jeremy's got to be from the other universe. My universe. She wrinkled her nose. That means I've got to work with him in the future.

April closed her eyes again. She just wanted to sleep. The period she had spent unconscious definitely hadn't made her feel any more rested.

Focus.

Yes, I get it. Mrs. Rice. So. Mrs. Rice. British accent, obviously. But calls me April. Doesn't act at all like the Mrs. Rice I know in terms of way of speaking or actions, though I haven't seen her enough to know if they share mannerisms. The pain in April's head spiked again, stabbing at her temples. She tried her best to ignore it. I don't know. I just don't know, and I don't think I'm going to know.

April looked up again at the blurry vent. Perhaps she could investigate it—it was better than sitting here and doing nothing except going over the same thing again and again. April hauled herself to her feet and walked over to stand by the door. The possible vent was still really blurry, but she could see that if it was a vent the holes had to be really thin.

Unsure how to reach it, April stared at it for a moment before her eyes fell on the keypad. It was slanted towards her, but it might provide a foothold…that is, if she could actually get her foot on top of it. April tried to lift her leg onto it, but it was very high. Eventually, she managed to brace her right hand against the wall and lift her left leg onto the keypad. Then came actually pushing herself up.

April had never been particularly good at climbing trees. She figured that was probably something she would have practiced if someone had told her that she would be travelling with an alien and nearly dying several times each day, but no one had informed her. Trying to hoist herself up using the frame of the door, April felt her fingers slip. She hit the ground, stumbling backwards, and a jolt of pain briefly shot up through her ankle.

Attempt two.

April got her left leg back up on the keypad and then took off her hoodie. From it, she wiggled out the cord and then slung it around the doorframe. She then tried to pull herself up.

This time, the cord simply slipped off of the doorframe.

April frowned.

Attempt three.

April threw the cord back up and tried to pull herself up as quickly as possible. The cord slipped off the doorframe, but this time April was able to grasp onto the frame with her fingers and get one of her feet to stay on the keypad.

April's fingers really, really hurt from holding onto the thin doorframe, but she was finally able to see the vent.

There were two, very thin lines in the wall, from which April could feel air coming through. There was no grating, and there was no way to reach the area beyond. Even if she did, April doubted she could fit.

She felt her heart jolt as her foot nearly slipped off the keypad. April was planning to jump down, when she heard a loud knocking sound on the other side of the door. Startled, April's hands let go of the doorframe. For a moment, she was standing there, one foot on the keypad as her only support. She was going to slide off and fall to the ground, and she could break her back, she could break her neck, she could—

April's heart skipped a beat.

And then the keypad gave way and April collapsed to the floor.

"Ow," April moaned. She was sure her arms and side had been bruised, but she was grateful that she hadn't fallen on her spine or her head. There was a knocking sound again, this time louder and accompanied by a whirring noise.

A sonic screwdriver. April pulled herself up off the floor and staggered over to the wall. The keypad was hanging about half a foot off the ground, wires suspending it above the hard white floor. Some of them had become undone, sparking with electricity. April carefully brought herself closer. The keypad had fallen out of the wall due to her weight, leaving behind a small hole that showed the inner wirings of the wall, a mess of blue and red and black wires far too complicated for her to understand by looking at them.

Another loud knock on the door.

April looked at the wiring of the wall. She was pretty sure that sound had to be the Doctor, trying to get in. Maybe he couldn't because the door was deadlock sealed or something.

Before she knew what she was even doing, April had picked up her hoodie off the ground. She wasn't sure what would happen if she put her hand in the wall, but with all those wires it could hardly be safe. She didn't know if the hoodie would insulate it, but she had to destroy those wires somehow.

No, no way. That's definitely not safe.

April considered it. Engineers wore rubber gloves, but she didn't have any rubber gloves on hand. She looked down at her sneakers—she was pretty sure that the soles were rubber, but she wasn't sure what would happen if she stuck one in there.

"Doctor?" April yelled.

There was a pause. "April!" The sound came from the outside, muffled until it was almost inaudible. "The door's deadlocked sealed!"

April looked at the wiring. "I have access to the door's wiring," she said. "I think. What do I do!"

There was a pause. "How much experience do you have at rewiring things?"

"Some!" April shouted back. She'd been on the robotics team, after all. "But even if I could follow your instructions, it doesn't look safe to touch."

"What?"

"Not safe to touch!" April yelled. "What would happen if I bashed them with my shoe?"

There was another pause. "I don't know. I doubt there's much electricity in them. But it could still be dangerous."

April looked at the wires, and then slid off one of her shoes, feeling absolutely ridiculous. She held it for a moment, unsure what to do. And then, with a sudden feeling of impulsiveness, she held one end of her shoe and shoved the toe in to attack the wires.

Shielding her face from the sparks, April pulled away to see the door sliding open. She looked at her shoe, which now smelled like burnt rubber, and then slid it back on anyways.

Immediately, the Doctor pulled her out of the room, his face urgent. "Are you okay?" He asked.

"I think—"

"Good," he said. April noticed he was wearing some sort of uniform that almost looked like a janitor's clothing. "I only got this far by luck. We need to get out of here." He began to hurry forwards, and April stumbled after him, head spinning.

"It's a trap," April said once she had the presence of mind.

"Yep," he said, turning a corner.

"Wait!" April said. "My mom is here."

The Doctor stopped and turned towards her. "What?" He asked.

"My mom," April told him again. "She's here, I saw her in one of the rooms. Something's wrong with her, but it's definitely her."

The Doctor seemed to freeze. "We have to get out of here," he said.

"We have to take her with us!" April protested.

"We will, but we have to get out of here first. Contact UNIT."

It made sense. April hated that it made sense. Part of her wanted to save her mother, because that was the right thing to do. The good thing to do. What kind of person shrugged and said 'sure, leave her behind' about her own mother?

Most of her wanted to run, to get out. She could regret her choices later, but right now she just wanted to be safe. Her heart pounded in her chest. April couldn't even believe this. Her mother was trapped here, a prisoner, and she wanted to just abandon her?

Martha had said that she was brave. April knew that she had been wrong.

In the end, the Doctor made the choice for her, grabbing her hand and pulling her along the hallway, down in the opposite way from the one April had come.

She didn't protest.