Hiii!
Welcome to my first lengthy fanfiction i've written and published for like a while. This is my first time posting on so honestly, the formatting confuses me a little but i'll manage (hopefully) hahha.
This is a non self-insert self-insert fanfiction...if that makes sense. The premise is that my oc Agnes is from a universe similar to ours and that she was thrown into the universe of The Doctor. Agnes isn't based on me though, which makes it a non self insert self insert.
I love these kind of fanfictions for this fandom but most of their kind haven't been updated in quite a few years and so i need to fill the void (lmao y'all get that joke later) with my own story.
All New Who Doctor's and their companions will be apart of this (but it would only let me tag 4 characters :() and i'll be including the newest season (season 12) as well as possibly future seasons depending on when they'll come out and how well they fit into the plot.
I'm also publishing this on my ao3 (i'm also kindaephemeral on there) and my wattpad (i'm alaskasmonsters there). If anyone prefers one of those two plattforms and also so there isn't any confusion, both of those profiles belong to me.
Other than that, i'd be very happy to receive feedback! Whether it concerns grammar, spelling, character portrayals, my oc or the plot i'd love to hear your opinion! So please consider leaving a review. I'd love hearing what ya'll are thinking :3
I'm trying to frequently update this as well as i can!
Have a lovely day,
Maze
Agnes Moore has had quite the shit day, if she was being entirely honest. That's what you got being a 17-year-old teenager in secondary school. You're stressed out and probably quite swamped with what the world threw at you. At least that's how Agnes felt most of the time. Being a mostly average student with mostly average brain capacity but still pressured to squeeze out every little ounce of potential you held...it was exhausting, to say the least. And disappointing.
There was a lot of disappointment involved.
Despite that all, average days just being shit on a general level (because maybe that's just how it was at her age), it was endurable. Human adaption skills and all. You got used to most shit thrown at you after a while. And Agnes has become a pro at adapting to the shit show she called her life.
Today was a whole other story.
First, she had failed her physics exam — which was not even that surprising honestly because she was shit at physics. Failure was still disappointing, no matter how shit you naturally were at doing something. She had also wasted a lot of her time at revising. Valuable time she could have spent sleeping.
So if that wasn't a reason to be pissed, then Agnes didn't know.
Then, to top it all, her dad made her go to dinner at Jeremy's house. She hated Jeremy, and she did so with a passion. He was a colleague of her fathers', a man in his 50s with sleeky hair and an oozy smile that was meant to give people the creeps. If there
was a god — and Agnes really didn't think there was — she was sure that smile was supposed to be a warning to everybody that would cross Jeremy's path (it just screamed "Run. If you don't want to be bloody assaulted."). Just to kind of make up for creating such an utterly disgusting pervert in the first place.
Agnes might be a little overdramatic at some times — at least that's what people accused her off — and maybe she was just rude all together, but she had
good instincts. So if Jeremy gave her the creeps, there was a good reason for it.
After all, not even the presence of her dad and two other people in the room (Sarah and Brody, both colleagues of her father, as well) had stopped him from making inappropriate jokes about how she would soon turn 18 and be a full-fledged adult.
Luckily her father wasn't entirely naive — he often pegged Jeremy as a mostly okay bloke with shitty humour, that didn't know where the line was — and had decided they would leave early after he had seen Agnes being extremely uncomfortable and annoyed.
She had almost punched the air and contemplated showing the slimeball her middle finger, but she could stop herself. After all, she did have some manners, despite popular belief.
After coming home, she hadn't found the strength to change into her pyjamas, or remove her make-up for that matter after the exhausting and emotionally draining day she has had. She hadn't even pulled off her shoes before falling into her bed, dozing off before she even hit the mattress.
Agnes could have expected that after having such a shit day, a shit dream would follow it. She knew dreams were presumed to be the brain kind of processing what it has experienced over the day, the good and the bad stuff. She had read about that somewhere, she was sure.
So Agnes really shouldn't be half as surprised as she was when she found herself in utter darkness. Considering the entire day had been equally shit to being thrown into a dark hole.
At first, the girl had not been sure if maybe she had just woken up again. The darkness could easily be the one of her room — after all her dad could have switched off her lights for her after he had found her knocked out on her bed.
But then Agnes had noticed the absence of warmth and soft fabric and that she was kneeling on the ground. She had tried to sit up and the movement had resulted in a scrunchy sound and when she reached out her hand, her fingers dug into something sandy, explaining the scrunching beneath her knees and shoes.
She had panicked. A natural first reaction when you found yourself disoriented and alone in a place where
you were also denied input from one of your most important senses.
Sight.
Something she missed dearly after it was taken away from her so suddenly.
Agnes had felt around — there was not much left but her sense of touch that could help her orientate herself — but there was nothing but the sandy layer of earth and the cold, solid ground beneath it surrounding her.
Maybe she was in an old basement or an underground tunnel.
For a second she had even believed she had been kidnapped, her mind immediately going to Jeremy and his predatory smile.
Then she had noticed it.
It was only a feeling. The feeling of dizziness, to be exact. It wasn't entirely present to her, just kind of looming around, in the back of her head.
Her head, that was just a little lighter than it usually was, a little like she was floating. The sensation of floating. Agnes noticed that secondly. When she let her fingers glide through the sand, testing it out, her arms seemed to move unnaturally slow almost.
The air around her was light. Her fingers were tingling, just the tiniest bit.
That was when she had realized it. That she was dreaming that is. The feeling of reality just being slightly off, being light-headed and dizzy and floaty
in a sense, that's how she usually knew she was asleep.
If she didn't notice by any of the obvious tells dreams had.
Agnes had read up on anything to do with lucid dreaming when she was a lot younger, maybe around 12, and very keen on having control over what was going on inside her dreams. She had never quite gotten the hang of it, no matter how hard she had tried. Realizing she was in a dream, she was quite good at, controlling anything that was happening inside, not so much.
Maybe that was the reason why she was still in the cold darkness, instead of a warm and cosy room. Because honestly, she was freezing, making her regret her rather summerly outfit. But after all, this was a dream, so the cold was just an illusion, probably coming from her not having closed the window before falling into her bed.
She didn't even cover herself with a blanket.
Agnes could only hope her dad would come into the room, close her window and tuck her in before he went to bed. Otherwise, she'd have to wake up and do it herself and honestly all she needed after the day she just had was a snatch of sleep.
If only the dream was a little more pleasant. Less dark and ominous, more friendly. She'd love a dream where she wasn't completely lost and alone in the dark, but rather on an adventure with friends.
That's what she needed right now, some excitement and some friendly faces would be great too, thanks.
Actually, maybe Agnes had to take back the comment about not being a very good lucid dreamer, because just a few seconds after she had wished for a little more light, it suddenly appeared. Seemingly out of nowhere the room, or rather place, lit up, a soft shine illuminating the stone walls of what she noticed to be a cave.
Okay, dreaming of being in a dark cave probably didn't mean a lot of positive things. It was only fair, though.
Agnes pushed herself up from the ground and to her feet, absent-mindedly dusting down her skirt and tee when she was standing steadily on the ground again.
She peeked around, trying to see more of where she had landed. The cave, honestly the best word she could come up with to describe that place, was extraordinarily interesting for such. A lot of statues were scattered all over the place — kind of scary looking ones, if you asked her. From where she was standing she could already make out at least twenty.
Call her silly, but ever since she had seen the Weeping Angels on "Doctor Who" — to be fair, it was when she was a literal toddler, so maybe she could only blame her dad for that one — Agnes was ridiculously terrified of statues.
There was this one at the cemetery nearby, serving as one of the tombstones, that looked just like an angel. Let's just say ever since that had been put up a few years prior Agnes had been a lot more cautious when entering that cemetery.
The girl took a step back from a statue, that was standing uncomfortably close to her. She scrunched up her nose when her eyes fell on the distorted face. There were hardly features to make out. As if someone had started melting their faces off and stopped halfway through.
"Not to be rude, but you look really battered, you creepy thing," she mumbled, grimacing a little.
The statue didn't move.
Agnes had thought it might, because wouldn't that be the perfect shit dream her perfect shit day deserved?
But the statue didn't show any sign of wanting revenge for that rude comment of hers.
At least this wasn't a nightmare, then. Only a slightly creepy dream.
"Okay then," she muttered, giving the statue a nod (because she was not raised to be impolite, just a little rude at times) before turning to make her way to anywhere far away from this place.
Maybe, if Agnes was lucky, her dream would proceed to a nice little crime scene. Or a cool castle on a snowy mountain (which would make the castle literally cool...or something like that).
She walked down the path she had taken for a while. She wasn't exactly sure how long it has been but it was long enough for her to grow bored at the monotonous, though the nonetheless creepy sight of stonewalls and statues lined up in front of them.
Sometimes Agnes even felt like they followed her with their melted eye sockets, but that was only her wanton imagination, she was sure.
She was a little disappointed with her mind. Was this all it could do? Some stone walls and statues? Not very creative, honestly.
As if to challenge her, Agnes heard the sound of a voice the exact moment those thoughts had formed in her head.
"Yes, we are!" it echoed through the room, bouncing off the cold walls before dissolving once again.
Agnes halted in her step, turning around to see if she could make out the direction it had come from. It was difficult, as the echo had distorted the voice (or maybe her brain had) making it difficult to place. The only thing she could say for sure was that it had belonged to a woman and that is was British.
"Sorry, what?" she heard a man's voice reply, sounding a little too disinterested in whatever the woman had to say.
It was coming from the same direction as the woman's, she was sure, and was also British, just like her. Agnes turned right, thinking she made out the direction from which those voices came, and a smile started to form on her lips.
Now that was something she could work with.
She started walking down the new path.
A man and a woman, two people that could keep her company in this weird dream. Maybe she even knew them — she probably did, considering the fact that the brain only used faces it had already seen for dreams.
"The other way up," she heard the same female voice from before say, this time it was a lot closer than before.
Not hesitating any longer, Agnes decided to draw their attention to her presence, before they decided to leave her alone.
She knew her brain, it loved to play tricks with her.
"Hello?!" she called out as she rounded the next corner.
The girl was met with the surprised and slightly confused stares of three, not two, people.
The one standing closest to her was the owner of the man's voice, a bloke with floppy brown hair and a really familiar face. One she would recognise anywhere, especially while he was sporting that red bowtie around his neck.
She hardly had the chance to cast a glance at the two women standing a few feet behind him, not only because of how blurry they were from this distance but also because the man with the bowtie didn't leave her any time.
The look of surprise on his face had quickly vanished and was replaced with one of pure joy, as his eyes lit up with recognition. Agnes had no time to react, then she already found herself in the man's arms.
He had rushed to her and pulled her into a very enthusiastic embrace, grin wide and happy. She was a little overwhelmed, but couldn't help the happy smile that grew on her face.
"Agnes," the man called out and the girl giggled at his cheerful tone.
"Doctor," she mimicked his cry of joy, throwing her arms around his neck to return the hug.
Because this was the Doctor, the Eleventh Doctor at that, with his bouncy hair, the ridiculous bowtie and the hyperactive and affectionate nature.
He was not her preferred Doctor, that would definitely either be the Tenth or Twelfth, but she had asked for a friendly face and that he was for sure.
An extremely friendly face.
"Mh. Honey," He sighed contentedly, before letting go of her once again. He was looking at her with that boyish grin and Agnes raised her eyebrow questioningly, "You don't wear that perfume very often."
The girl smiled a little, surprised that the Dream Doctor had noticed her perfume. She knew it was probably just a way of her subconsciousness to cheer her up, and after the day she's had and she truly appreciated it.
"That's because it is expensive," she reminded him.
The Doctor smiled at her and for a short moment, Agnes' sight cleared enough so she noticed the way his eyes softened when he looked at her.
Then the moment was gone again.
Why did dreams have to be so blurry?
"Hey, don't we get a hello?" a girl's voice interrupted them, causing Agnes and the Doctor to turn around and look at the other two women standing there.
This time Agnes had no trouble recognizing who they were. The girl on the right had the reddest hair Agnes had ever seen in person, the bright scarlet hoodie she was wearing jarring terribly with the colour of it.
Amelia Pond, her favourite Scott was wearing a shit-eating grin. The woman standing beside her wore a similar expression. Her naturally bouncy blonde hair was tied together in a knot and dressed in military attire. River Song was sporting the same cheeky smile as Amy. Unsurprisingly, they were mother and daughter after all.
The one who had spoken, easily recognizable since she was the only one with a Scottish accent in sight, was Amy. And when Agnes had turned to look at her she had raised both of her arms in the air, motioning for the girl to finally go and give her a hug.
She let out a laugh.
"You'll get the biggest hug, don't worry," she promised, before rushing over to her to wrap her arms around the ginger.
Amy let out a dramatic huff, but returned the hug just as enthusiastically. Although Agnes was rather tall for a girl herself, Amy still towered over her by several inches.
"Oh, I've missed you. Travelling without you is just half the fun," Amy told her, squeezing her once before letting go of her again.
Agnes gave her a crooked smile and tilted her head a little. She tried to remember the last time she had dreamt of Amy or the Doctor or River for that matter, but she couldn't.
"I've missed you, too," she told her, nevertheless.
Amelia Pond was, without doubt, one of her favourite companions and ever since she had left the show she had missed the loud-mouthed Scottish woman.
River was next.
Having already opened her arms up for her, Agnes could easily slip into them, which she did without hesitation. The blonde held her tight, showing just how much she had missed her as well.
"Hey, sweetie," River cooed and smooched her cheek. Agnes scrunched up her nose and made a sound of disgust, but laughed to signal her that she did not mean it.
When both pulled away from each other again, Agnes turned to the Doctor again. He looked a little annoyed now that everybody has had their turn at squashing her. If Agnes didn't know any better she would say he was a little jealous that he wasn't the only one that had gotten a hug and an eager hello.
Stupid old man, he was.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, mainly addressing the Doctor, "Are you here to protect me from those statues? They're giving me the chills."
The Doctor cocked his head at her, looking a little confused about her words.
"Actually, we're looking for one specific statue, that one you should be scared of. The others are harmless," he explained, shining the light of his torch on one of the figures close to them.
Agnes only hmphed, eyeing it sceptically. She didn't trust them at all. A chill ran down her spine and she quickly crossed her arms in front of her chest.
Harmless or not, these statues were creepy scary.
"Don't worry, sweetie, they can't get you," River teased and nudged her side and the girl rolled her eyes at her in feigned annoyance.
Agnes looked around, noticing that the cave was far more massive than she had first thought —and ignoring the creepy statues looming all around the place — quite magnificent, too. The source of light, that illuminated the place, was a globe levitating in the middle of the air.
All of it was looking really familiar to her.
The Doctor watched her curiously from the side as Agnes studied the place with a frown on her face, as she was trying to spur her memory. If she didn't know any better she'd say everything looked like it was ripped right out of an episode of Doctor Who...
"Oh no," she realised, face falling.
Maybe she had been too quick to assume that this wasn't a nightmare. Finding herself in the dark, then realising she was surrounded by weird-looking statues with melted off faces and now this...how could she have been so utterly foolish.
Why was she even surprised?
"What is it?" the Doctor asked, his voice has taken on an alarmed tone when he saw her grimacing.
He stepped closer to her, while Amy and River exchanged worried glances.
"Ugh, I hate this one. This one is shit," the girl grumbled.
Because this was an episode. She was dreaming of an episode, with her in it.
"So you know that one?" Amy asked, sounding a little too excited for Agnes' liking and moreover she was completely ignoring her panicked face.
Great, bloody fantastic.
The teenager nodded, letting her eyes shift to the Doctor, hoping he could comfort her a little.
He always knew what to do in situations like this. After all, he was the expert, the hero taking care of the scared people. That's what she was, a scared person ready to be taken care of.
The Doctor did not comfort her, though, he was only staring at her with an undefinable look. His almost non-existent eyebrows furrowed, his eyes holding a thoughtful expression.
Kind of like he didn't understand something about her. What it was Agnes couldn't tell.
"So, Weeping Angels, huh?" she asked, in an attempt to make him lose that face and tried her hardest to sound unconcerned.
She failed miserably, of course.
The Timelord nodded, sympathy shining in his eyes.
Finally, he had caught on with this whole dynamic of him, the Doctor, having to comfort her, the companion — since that's what she was now, okay — and took her hand in his to give it a reassuring squeeze. Agnes noted that his hand was warmer than hers, despite his naturally low body temperature (something she only knew of because she had read up on Timelord Biology, like the geek she was).
"Well, only a fitting ending to a shit day," she murmured.
Of course, after having to deal with the hungry stares of Jeremy and his desperate tries to get her to engage in conversation with him, her dream had found a different kind of predator for her to deal with.
Lovely, at least it showed some skills in the imagination department now.
"You've had a bad day?" the Doctor asked softly and squeezed her hand again.
Agnes only shrugged.
"Just a little. I've had worse."
Amy, River and the Doctor were glancing at her like they were extremely worried and even her attempt of a smile probably looked more strained than anything.
"Are you sure?" Amy asked.
Wow, her subconsciousness was really just as annoying as she would have expected.
To be fair, though, it was also kind of good at this, comforting that is. Having three of her favourite tv show characters by her side after such a day, it helped more than she would have thought.
"Well, you know, life. Sometimes you have to deal with things you don't want to deal with and sometimes things don't turn out the way you would have wanted them to."
The Doctor hummed as if to agree with her definition of life.
He watched her for another moment, looking thoughtfully, then he turned away again. He let go of her hand, too, as he went back to examine the figures again.
Amy and River stayed back with her. Amy seemed to be a lot less familiar with the concept of leaving Agnes alone, so she continued the questioning in the place of the Doctor.
"It wasn't something the Doctor did, right?" the redhead asked, lowering her voice so the Timelord couldn't pick up on her words.
Agnes turned to look at her in bewilderment. How in the world would anything the Doctor could do ever influence her in a way that would make her day shit?
I mean, Agnes was probably way too invested with the show to begin with, but that would be too much to ask for.
"Dude, I don't think the Doctor could ever do anything that would ruin my day," she laughed, but Amy and River continued to look at her in a serious way.
"How young are you, sweetie?" River asked.
Agnes frowned at the blonde. How was that a logical follow up to what she had said? Or was River just spouting random questions for the hell of it now?
"What do..."
The sound of a shot rang through the air, interrupting Agnes' attempt to ask River about her weird question.
The girl flinched, hard, before she started to look around frantically trying to make out the source of the noise. Like before, with the voices of River and the Doctor, the sound had been distorted, seemingly coming from different directions at the same time.
It didn't look like it was anywhere close, but how was she supposed to know?
Agnes felt the Doctor grab her hand.
Before she could ask him what the hell that just was he started pulling her into a direction she hoped wasn't the one that the shot had come from (knowing the Doctor though, getting away from danger was never a safe guess with him).
Amy and River followed closely behind them, as they ran down various paths before rushing down an extremely steep staircase.
The Doctor pulled her along so quickly, Agnes could only speak of luck that she hadn't fallen down the stairs and woken up because she had died of a neck fracture. She was even more surprised that the Doctor didn't stumble, though. That incarnation of his was incredibly klutzy, often stumbling over his own feet when proceeding at a normal speed.
When the four of them arrived at the end of the stairs, they were met with the sight of two men. Both of them were dressed in similar military attire than River was. Agnes thought she remembered that they were actually members of a church, both a religious and military organisation from far in the future.
The Doctor's eyes quickly scanned around the room — pushing her a little behind him in the process — and Agnes noticed how his eyes fell on a statue right next to where they stood. Which sudden discovery did not make her flinch at all (it did not!).
Then the Timelord turned to look back to the two men. Agnes noticed that it was the younger of the two who the Doctor had focused his attention on.
She understood when she saw the black item resting in his palm.
So, that was the gun they have heard going off, then.
Agnes remembered the man from the episode. Bob, or she thought that was his name, had been very frightened and paranoid...and one of the first to die (so maybe the paranoia was justified) through the hands of the Weeping Angels.
She did not remember him firing at a statue, though, or why exactly he had felt the need to do that. But by the looks of it, that was exactly what he had done. I mean, she'd applaud him, surely, those fuckers did look creepy, but you don't just shoot something because it looks creepy.
Not usually, at least.
"Sorry, sorry. I thought -I thought it looked at me," Bob rambled, looking ashamed when met with the irritated look of the other man.
It was his commander, Father Octavian, if she remembered right, who looked clearly angered by Bob's squeamish and impulsive action.
"We know what the Angel looks like. Is that the Angel?" Octavian asked pointing towards the statue.
He trued to keep his voice calm, but Agnes could tell he was very close to losing his temper.
She looked to the statue. Like with the others its face was unrecognizable, looking deformed. Its limbs hanging off stiffly to its side.
She felt another shiver run down her spine. Every time she started paying attention to one of the statues is seemed to get colder.
But that was probably only her imagination. Right?
"No, sir," she heard Bob answer his commander. His cheeks started to take on a slight blush.
"No, sir, it is not. According to the Doctor, we are facing an enemy of unknowable power and infinite evil, so it would be good, it would be very good if we could all remain calm in the presence of the Doctor," Octavian lectured him and Bob nodded abashed.
Agnes scoffed, sending glares towards the older man. He didn't have to be such a jerk, honestly.
A "Don't get distracted, be more careful." would have been enough to bring his point across. He didn't have to be so bloody rude to that poor guy, who looked like he wanted to dig himself a grave and lay down in it.
Bob was frightened, and if you asked her, he had any right to be.
The statue did probably move because this whole place was bloody rigged. She didn't know what it was, yet, but something was off about those stone figures.
So he's had every right to shoot at it. His instincts, though lead by fear, were on spot. The statues were dangerous, not just the Weeping Angel they were looking for.
Agnes felt that.
"What's your name?" the Doctor suddenly spoke up, drawing the men's attention towards himself.
He let go of her hand, Agnes hadn't even noticed he had still held onto it, and stepped to Bob and Octavian.
"Bob, sir."
"Ah, that's a great name. I love Bob," the Doctor's eyes widened in a playfully dramatic manner as he started smiling widely at the soldier.
Bob seemed to relax a little.
Octavian nodded, a prideful expression settling on his face, when he explained that Bob was a sacred name, just like all of their names were sacred ones as well.
They were given to them in the service of the church.
The Doctor hummed.
"Sacred Bob. More like scared Bob now, eh?"
Bob nodded hesitantly, "Yes, sir."
The Timelord started smiling, patting his shoulder in an encouraging manner, as he leaned closer to Bob.
"Good. Scared keeps you fast. Anyone in the room who isn't scared is a moron."
He turned to look at Octavian, just silently eyeing him for a few seconds. Agnes grinned. That was the Doctor she adored, comforting the scared people and meanwhile subtly roasting the assholes.
The Doctor turned to wink at her as if he had been able to hear her thoughts.
Father Octavian followed the Doctor's glance, eyes settling on her. By the way he knitted his eyebrows together in confusion, she was able to tell that he hadn't noticed her until just now.
"Who's the girl?" he asked, addressing the Doctor.
The Timelord looked between Agnes and Octavian, a wide grin tugging at his lips. He strode towards her and when he had reached her, he only slung his arm around the girl's shoulders, pulling her close against him.
He reminded her a little of a very proud mother that was about to introduce her very special and gifted child to someone.
"This is Agnes Moore. A friend and very valuable to the mission, trust me," he explained, rubbing her shoulder.
She barely felt it.
Agnes raised her hand to awkwardly wave at Bob and Octavian. The last one eyed her suspiciously, eyes shifting between her and the other members of their group.
"Agnes Moore?" he repeated, exchanging a meaningful glance with River, before turning to focus on her.
"Yes, sir."
The Doctor glanced at her, amusement visibly written across his face.
He raised his eyebrows, she nudged him.
Octavian nodded slowly, his eyes glancing between the four of them. His eyebrows were bumped together into a scowl.
The Doctor ignored his sceptical look. He told Octavian to carry on before grabbing Agnes' hand and pulling her off into another direction, Amy and River following behind them once again.
"Yes, sir," Amy mimicked her playfully when they were far enough away so Father Octavian couldn't hear them anymore.
The teenager turned around, only to be met by Amy's cheeky grin.
"Tch, sorry for being polite."
"Oh, please," Amy waves her hand dismissively, pointing the light of her torch at the back of her head, "You're never polite."
The Doctor started giggling.
Agnes only rolled her eyes as an answer, because honestly, she wasn't. Still, there was nothing wrong with having some manners.
The Doctor, who followed their bantering with an amused expression on his face, flashed his torch around as if he tried to inspect the entirety of the cave in a matter of seconds.
Right then Agnes noticed another shiver running down her spine.
"It's quite cold here, isn't it," she asked, using the one hand that wasn't held by The Doctor (did he ever plan to let go of her or?) to rub her arm.
She was still only wearing a tee and a short skirt. Not the most practical outfit for walking around in a cave.
"Not really," Amy chimed from behind.
Her clothes weren't providing much warmth either, Agnes noticed.
"Hm," Agnes mumbled, more to herself than anybody, feeling the concerned eyes of The Doctor on her, "Must be the window then."
"Window?" The Doctor asked, his brows knitted in a frown.
"Yeah, I left it open. No wonder I'm cold," she laughed, playfully nudging him the side.
The Doctor gave her a weird look, then turned back to River, exchanging glances with her.
Agnes wanted to ask him what was wrong, but then The Doctor let go of her hand to slip out of his jacket and hand it to her, interrupting her train of thought.
A true Gentleman, she thought.
She gave him a smile before slipping it on. It was a little too big on her, but she had never minded oversized clothes.
"Better?" The Doctor asked.
The girl cocked her head, thinking for a second. The chilly sensation did not vanish, she could still sense it just beneath her skin and her hand was still colder than The Doctor's (who's obviously grabbed hers once again).
"No, not really. Must really be the window. I hope dad will close it eventually," she shrugged, not noticing the worried side glances The Doctor sent her way.
He opened his mouth to say something, but Agnes was not to find out what it was, since Amy interrupted them before he got the chance to voice his thoughts.
"Isn't there a chance this lot's just going to collapse? There's a whole ship up there," the redhead stated, disbelief lacing her voice.
Agnes looked up and saw what Amy meant. The cave was gigantic, but the architecture did not look the most stable. At least not stable enough to carry the weight of the entire Byzantium.
The size alone indicated that it should be way too heavy for a cave this ancient.
"Incredible builders, the Aplans," River murmured, having followed Amy's and Agnes' glances to the ceiling.
"Had dinner with their Chief Architect once. Two heads are better than one," The Doctor told them.
"What, you mean you helped?" Amy asked surprised.
Agnes turned to sent her a cheeky smile.
"He means he had two heads. Literally," she revealed, widening her eyes dramatically.
Amy giggled.
Suddenly The Doctor stopped in his track, making the group pause as well. His eyes were glancing around the room.
Agnes knew he looked for something he had missed, and she was sure she was supposed to know what it was.
"That book, the very end, what did it say?" he asked, his eyes squinted together in concentration.
"Hang on," River said.
The blonde rummaged around in her pocket, before pulling out the book The Doctor talked about.
"Read it to me," the Timelord requested.
"What if we had ideas that could think for themselves? What if one day our dreams no longer needed us? When these things occur and are held to be true, the time will be upon us. The Time of Angels."
And that's when Agnes remembered why something about the statues has bothered her, why it had given her chills. They weren't just statues.
"Well, fuck me."