The Invisible String

Previously:

Mickey's phone rang multiple times. Callie almost gave up and hung up the phone, but at the last second there was a small click.

"Hello?" Someone answered uncertainly, but it wasn't Mickey. Callie balked when she recognized the voice. "Uh, hello? Callie?"

"Clara?"

Callie held the phone away from her ear, just to double-check that she'd dialed the right number. Yep, Mickey's named was clearly printed in the contact info— she had not called Clara by mistake. Still, that would have at least made sense.

"Who's Clara?" Rose asked quietly, looking from Callie to the Doctor. He looked just as lost as she did, and she pursed her lips.

"How do you have Mickey's phone?" Callie asked, pressing the phone back to her ear. She ran a hand through her hair, fingers getting knotted in the curls. Clara sighed on the other line.

"He's kind of… passed out in the TARDIS right now," she said awkwardly after a long moment. She gave a wry laugh, sounding anything but happy. "I couldn't figure out how he got in, but if he's your friend then he has a key, doesn't he?"

Callie closed her eyes, trying to will her nerves to calm down. Too much was happening all at once and she already felt fried. Her heart pulsed in her ears as she tried to process this, keenly aware that Jack had minutes at the most before he would be dead.

So, somehow, Mickey went to look for Rose and ended up stumbling upon a future Doctor's TARDIS and let himself inside. Presumably, he'd thought it was Nine's TARDIS and— what? What could have possibly happened from there?

"Oh my god, I don't have time for this right now," Callie muttered under her breath, pinching the bridge of her nose. Clara made a small, wounded sound in her throat.

"Callie, I really need you right—" she started, but Callie cut her off.

"I'm on my way, text me your location," she said quickly, her brain buzzing as it tried to plan quickly and efficiently. She winced a second later, realizing how rude she sounded. Softer, she added, "Sorry— I'll be right there, okay?"

"Okay." Clara's voice was small, but it was enough for now. Callie hung up, feeling worse than garbage. What a first impression on a new friend, huh?

She began backing up, waving off Rose's concerned look and inevitable questions. "There's no time. You two need to go save Jack. I'll go help Clara and bring Mickey back when we're done."

Her phone buzzed, the screen lighting up with Clara's text.

"We can come with you," the Doctor offered. He looked concerned, obviously seeing that Callie was on edge. She shook her head quickly.

"You need to get Jack," she repeated. Please, she added silently, trying to push her emotions into the thought. I'll never forgive myself if he dies here.

The Doctor's lips pressed together, but he nodded. "Hurry back." Be safe, and call me if you need back up.

Worry about Jack— we'll be fine.

"Can you two speak up?" Rose asked sharply, her eyebrows raised. She looked back and forth between the two of them. "I hate it when you do that telepathic thing."

"I'll be back," Callie told her with a wave.

Callie opened the door and stepped out, swiping the notification open. She didn't have time to take note of the fact that Rose knew about their telepathic conversations. She hurried down the alley, trusting the Doctor would do as she asked and save Jack.

Vaguely, she wondered how her own personal timeline would shift if Jack died here. Would she still remember Jack being there on Christmas? Or would be disappear from her memory, like Rory from Amy's when he disappeared from existence?

Gold started to creep in at the edges of Callie's vision, bringing with it the usual piercing headache. Callie ground her teeth, willing the gold to ebb away again. She resolutely ignored it, focusing on her phone. Clara had sent her location, making it easy to track her.

Mercifully, she was only a few blocks away. She quickened her speed, pulling at her sleeves as the cold air bit her skin. It was late, now, in London. The whole city seemed to be going to sleep after the air raid— Callie was the only person still out on the streets.

Her pace quickened as the familiar blue of the TARDIS came into view. It was strange, to walk away from the TARDIS and find it someplace else. From the outside, it was indistinguishable from the one she'd just left. No wonder Mickey had gotten confused.

The door clicked open softly before Callie's fingertips could brush the blue wood. She gave a silent thanks, slipping inside. The console room was dark, deep blue lighting and the glow the console giving Clara's form a dark silhouette. Next to her, on the ground, was Mickey. He was splayed out with his arms above his head, as if he'd just fallen backwards right there.

"What happened?" Callie demanded. She knelt by his side, paying no attention to the console room she'd never seen in person before. Carefully, she pressed the backs of her fingers to Mickey's forehead, frowning. He felt warm— too warm.

"He walked right in," Clara said thickly as she knelt on Callie's other side. A little wryly, she added, "As soon as he saw the console room, he passed right out."

Callie scoffed lightly, shaking her head. "Of course."

It felt much like a balloon with a small hole, the tension leaking from her quickly as she took in the fact that he wasn't actually hurt. He'd just stumbled onto the wrong TARDIS. One crisis taken care of.

Callie fingered the sweater propping up Mickey's head.

"That was me," Clara said softly. Callie finally looked up at her. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun, her eyes and nose red and running. She'd been crying. "I freaked out because some random guy just walked right in, but I felt bad when he was just lying there."

"That was nice of you," Callie said. Clara gave her a shaky smile. "What's wrong? You said you needed my help."

Clara's eyes filled with tears that she tried to blink back. "The Doctor's missing."

"What?"

"I don't know what to do!" Clara said, wiping her tears before they could fall. "I— I think he might be dead. It's been days and he hasn't answered his phone or called back. I keep hearing bomb sirens and all I can think is that he got caught in a raid or— or—"

Callie's chest tightened and she felt like the air had been sucked out of the room. Her mouth opened and closed as she struggled to breathe, to speak, to think.

"It's been days?" she finally asked, her voice no more than a whisper. Something about her voice broke Clara's restraint and she began to cry openly. She fell forward into Callie's arms, her small frame shaking as she sobbed.

Through her sobs, Clara explained what had been going on. They'd been intending to go to the 1540s, but they'd ended up in the middle of the London Blitz instead. The Doctor had gotten a concerning call and left her there, promising to be back soon.

"Why didn't you go with him?" Callie asked, eyebrows knitting together. Clara cried harder and Callie winced, realizing how harsh that sounded. "Sorry."

"I was sick," Clara explained. She wiped at her tears, but it was futile because more just kept coming. "Food poisoning. I should have gone—"

"Hey, hey," Callie said, rubbing her back soothingly. The lump in her throat was practically painful to speak around. "It's not your fault. And I'm sure he's not— he's not dead. He can't be."

"But—"

"We'll find him," Callie said, stronger this time. "It's going to be okay, I promise."

Clara nodded, sniffing. She gave Callie a watery smile that just broke Callie's heart.

Beside them, Mickey groaned loudly. He started to shift, arms stretching as he finally began to wake up. Clara sat up, leaning against the captain's chair. Her sobs slowly ebbed and she was finally able to wipe her tears away.

Mickey slowly came to. Slow enough that Callie had time to really take in Clara's appearance. She looked exhausted, to say the least. Dark circles pulled at her eyes, making her pale skin look ghostly white and haggard.

"When was the last time you slept?"

Clara shrugged, looking at her hands in her lap. She picked at a nail. "A bit here and there."

"Go get some sleep," Callie told her. She stood and pulled Clara to her feet, ignoring her protests. "I'm going to figure out where the Doctor is. Mickey will help, okay? We won't go anywhere without you, I promise, but you need to sleep."

"I'll be fine."

"You're practically dead on your feet," Callie insisted. She led Clara to the hallway with minimal argument, pushing her so she would continue on her own. Callie watched her until she rounded a corner and disappeared.

She just hoped Clara would forgive her for lying.

She whirled around, marching back into the console room. Mickey groaned, pushing himself up with shaky arms as he finally regained consciousness. He whipped around, cursing, as he took in his unfamiliar surroundings.

He stopped, relaxing once his gaze settled on Callie. "Where are we?" he asked, rubbing the back of his head. Callie plopped down on the captain's chair next to him.

"The TARDIS from the future," she said shortly. "Your head okay?"

"Hurts," he mumbled. "How are we in the TARDIS from the future?"

"Crossed timelines, I guess," she answered. She stared at the console, wishing she knew how to fly it. Maybe she'd be able to find the Doctor— but she'd never asked. Two weeks she'd spent with Ten, and it had never occurred to her to ask.

Mickey sat next to her and she elbowed him in the ribs. "You walked inside, saw a different interior than you were expecting, and you passed out. What a baby."

Mickey whined, rubbing his ribs. "How'd you find me, then? And what about Rose? I was looking for hours and I couldn't find her anywhere—"

"Rose is fine," Callie answered quickly, deciding to tell him later about the whole gas-mask-situation. "And Clara was in here when you walked in. You scared the crap out of her— you'll have to apologize later."

"Who's Clara?"

Callie quickly gave Mickey a rundown of the current situation, fighting her own tears as they made a resurgence. Mickey paled.

"What do we do?"

Callie almost shrugged, but an idea struck her. "I need to figure out where he is," she murmured, more to herself than to him.

"And how do we—" Callie waved her hand, shushing him. She screwed her eyes shut, feeling the pulse of her blood and the Vortex pumping through her veins. She reached her mind out, feeling blindly as she searched for the Doctor.

She'd never done this before. Never tried to reach him when he wasn't right beside her. It was harder than she'd have thought. His mind was familiar by now, so she would have thought he'd be easy to pick out.

Callie gasped as a wave of pain rolled over her. Her eyes flew open and she nearly fell forward off the chair. Mickey grabbed her holding her back.

"Are you okay?" he asked frantically. "What happened? Are you hurt?"

"The Doctor," Callie panted. Sweat glistened on her brow. "He's hurt. Oh my god, he's hurt!"

"Where is he?"

Callie looked towards the door, feeling a tug on her mind. Like an invisible string pulling her to him.

"I don't know, but we're going to find out." She grabbed Mickey's hand, pulling him behind her as she walked towards the door. She let the invisible string guide her, silently apologizing to Clara for leaving her behind. But the Doctor was hurt and there was no time to waste.

It had to be after two in the morning by now, so the streets were completely dead. Their steps echoed off the concrete, shoes slapping harshly as Callie hurried along. Mickey stumbled alongside her, scrambling to keep up.

"What are we going to do when we find him?" Mickey asked, but Callie shushed him once more. It was already giving her a headache, concentrating on the string so far from where the Doctor was.

Or maybe that was the gold edging her vision once more.

The Vortex in her veins heated up, making her burn from the inside out just enough to be uncomfortable. Each time the Vortex tried to take her, it hurt worse.

And each time, it was harder to push it back.

They wound through the streets quickly, and eventually the string led them to a tall building. It was dark, not a single light on in the place. It stood ominously over them, looming.

Quickly, Callie got out her phone and opened the sonic screwdriver app.

"Any idea what's in there?" Mickey asked lowly. Callie glanced at him from the corner of her eyes.

"The Doctor," she answered as the lock disengaged audibly. "What else— I have no clue."

It wasn't a pleasant feeling, walking into a situation not knowing what was waiting for them. If it managed to hurt the Doctor, it must be bad.

But the Doctor had been gone for days, and no one else was going to save him. It had to be Callie. And Mickey, who clearly trusted her enough to walk into the unknown alongside her.

Her phone buzzed in her hands, illuminating the whole room they'd just walked into.

Rose: We've got Jack, heading back now.

Rose: Where do you need us?

Rose: Also, why didn't you say that Jack was so cute?

Callie gasped, the distraction causing her to lose her hold on the string leading them to the Doctor. She could feel the TARDIS materialize somewhere in the city, feel the string begin to stretch in both directions before dissolving altogether.

She cursed.

"What?" Mickey whipped around, trying to see whatever it was that had Callie all riled up. Callie fought the urge to throw her phone across the room, she was so frustrated.

"I lost my hold on the Doctor," she said. "We're really walking in blind now."

Mickey made a face, but nodded. He scanned the room before walking away from her. Callie closed her eyes, trying to find the Doctor again. But having two of him in the same vicinity made it hard, especially since the version she was looking for was older than she'd ever met him. Her mind kept wanting to slide back towards the familiarity of Nine.

She was half-sure that the string had been angling downwards. Was there a basement somewhere?

Mickey gave a triumphant shout as he dug a lantern from a cupboard. There was a small flick and then the lantern began to glow.

"Dunno how much oil this has got, but it's something," he said, holding it up.

The room came into better focus around them. It was fairly bare, just a few pieces of furniture covered in sheets. A thick layer of dust covered everything, making their footprints clear on the floor.

"We're the only ones who've been in this way," Callie noted. There were no other footprints anywhere to be seen.

"Maybe there's a back entrance?"

Callie nodded, twisting a curl around her finger. Her phone buzzed again, but she shoved it into her back pocket and ignored it. She had a bad feeling when she considered involving Nine, Rose, and Jack. It settled in her gut uncomfortably, and her mom had always told her to trust her gut.

"I think he might be below somewhere," she said to Mickey. "We need to find some stairs."

They moved quickly through the halls, trying every door they passed. Most were locked, and the few that weren't were empty offices or janitor closets.

"So, what's the Doctor like in the future?" Mickey asked after a while.

Callie hesitated, trying not to give spoilers. "It depends how far in the future you go," she said finally. It occurred to her that Mickey was about to meet a future regeneration of the Doctor. But he hadn't understood regeneration at Christmas, right?

Right?

God, jumping around timelines was so confusing. Why couldn't she just move chronologically? Was that so much to ask?

"That's annoyingly vague," Mickey said wryly, nudging her in the side.

"Well the other option was 'spoilers', so…" Callie said with a smirk. Mickey scoffed, shaking his head. His lantern flickered as it swayed. Then, it blew out completely, leaving them in total darkness.

Callie fumbled, then turned on the flashlight on her phone.

Mickey squinted. "There's still oil in the lamp."

"So, why did it go out?" Callie asked, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up.

A soft, chittering noise came from a nearby door. Goosebumps raised on Callie's arms as she turned to face it.

"That's not a good sign," Mickey mumbled.

"We have to go that way, don't we?" Callie asked, dread dripping from her voice.

"That's such a white-person-in-a-horror-movie thing to say," Mickey muttered unhappily. He sighed. "But, yeah. In my experience traveling with you two, the creepy noises tend to lead us to misadventures with aliens."

"Misadventures With Aliens, that's gonna be the title of my memoir," Callie said lightly. She took a breath and tried the doorknob. It opened easily, which just screamed "TRAP".

The chittering grew louder, echoing off the stairs and the bare walls around it. Something glowed at the bottom of the stairs, the shadows shifting around. Something was moving down there.

"We're gonna die down there, aren't we?" Mickey asked, looking to her. Callie bit her lip, avoiding his gaze. She hated it when they looked to her to guide them. It made her feel wholly inadequate.

"Give me your phone," she said lowly, holding out her hand. Mickey didn't ask questions, just handed it over. Quickly, she plugged Clara's number into his phone and gave it back. "I'll go down first—"

"You can't go by yourself!" Mickey shouted. Callie shushed him harshly as she saw the shadows in the basement still. After a long moment, they started moving eerily once more.

"What if we both get caught?" Callie whispered. "Then there's no one to save the Doctor. I'll go by myself, and if you hear me scream or something, you call Clara. If I don't come back in, like, an hour, call Clara and then you two come after me."

"This seems like a bad plan," he said quietly. "We don't know what's down there."

"It's the only plan we've got." As if to contradict her, her phone buzzed. Probably Rose again.

Mickey swallowed audibly. Finally, after a long moment, he nodded.

Callie stared down the staircase, wanting nothing more to bolt and run away. But the Doctor was near, and he was hurt, and she needed to do the rescuing for once.

She just hoped she didn't fuck it up.

The stairs were slick, so Callie moved carefully down them. The chittering grew louder, turning into clicking and clacking that echoed all around, filling her ears and making her head ring.

She made it to the edge of the stairs and pressed her back to the wall. Carefully, she leaned and took a look.

Her blood ran cold. The basement was cavernous, starting out like a normal basement and then turning into a long corridor with dirt walls. Like they'd started in the building, dug through the walls, and tunneled their way down.

But the chilling part was the long, centipede-like creatures lining the walls. They writhed, chittering so loudly that Callie would think they were speaking to one another if she didn't have the TARDIS translating for her.

Callie couldn't tell if they had eyes, or if she would be able to sneak past them. She bit her lip, scanning the room. There was no where else to go.

She closed her eyes, trying once more to reach the Doctor. Pressure built in her head, pushing against her brain so painfully she could have screamed.

C-Callie?

His inner voice sounded weak, and it definitely wasn't Nine's.

I'm coming, just hold on, Callie said. She concentrated on where he was, and slipped out into the basement.

The chittering stopped immediately. All at once, the giant centipede-things pushed off their walls, turning so their heads (maybe?) were facing her. There was a pregnant pause, then Callie made a break for it.

At once, they all began to screech loudly, lunging for her. Unable to bite back her own scream, she yelped loudly as one stung her with one of its legs, plunging its leg-stinger deep into her arm. She ran faster than she'd ever run in her life.

As she left the original basement area, the light faded away. It was only once they reached total darkness that the giant bugs stopped chittering. She spared a look back to see them slinking back to where they'd started.

Callie should have been happy to see them leave, but she couldn't help but think they were the guard dogs. She also couldn't help but think that it would be a lot harder to get past them to get out.

She looked down at her arm, which throbbed from the sting she'd received. Using her phone for light, she saw that there was a bloody hole in the middle of her forearm, the skin around it turning a sickly purple. Great.

Shaking her head, Callie made her way through the winding tunnel with only her phone's flashlight for light. Following the invisible string became easier the closer she got to the Doctor, though more than once she had to turn around because her mind kept mixing it up with Nine, who seemed to keep moving around the city. Or maybe the tunnel was more winding than she thought.

Down there, it was impossible to tell how long she had been walking. Her feet hurt and she was exhausted, but she pushed along. Every step brought her closer to the Doctor.

And closer to whatever was holding him hostage.