Episode: A Journey in the Dark
Chapter: A Long-expected Party [1/5]
Summary: Amy wanted to have a good time with her boys, one last trip before the wedding. Rory wanted a party to make up for his stag, something truly worth of traveling in space and time. A businessman wanted to find the saboteurs so work could continue… and he wanted his daughter back too. The Master wanted to get rid of those annoying Ponds so he could get back to figuring out a way to bring the Doctor back. Or the one where some people get what they want, others get what they need, and the time travelers only lose.
Rating: T
Warnings: Description of wounds (mild, not-explicit) and illness.
She runs, stumbling through tunnels barely illuminated by strange moss she doesn't waste time trying to analyze. Her hands are bound at her back, making her steps unsteady despite how flat and clear the rocky ground is, but she has lost a shoe and so she keeps tripping on her skirt.
She chances a look back, unnerved by the echo of her steps and harsh breathing against the wall, but with no sound of any pursuit, and sees nothing. Despite how relieved she should be feeling, it only helps her grow even more worried. It can't be possible that she's gone so far unnoticed, not with her captor—
She whirls around and skids to a stop when she hears the thud coming from the front, followed by a hiss and a hint of gray and metal glinting in the eerie pale green light—
There's a sharp stab at the base of her neck, cutting her scream short, and the world goes black before she can feel herself hit the ground.
"Here we are! Rio de Janeiro!" the Doctor proclaims as he opens the door of the TARDIS, but when he doesn't step out, tilting his head at whatever he sees, Rory knows they landed in the wrong place again. "Well, someplace close by," he adds, finally stepping away from the entrance so Amy and Rory can go outside too.
"It's a cave," Amy deadpans, looking at the rocky walls all around them and the dark tunnel stretching from the cavern they landed in. "Is it even 2239, or did you get us to the wrong year too?"
"Sometime in the 1880s, actually," the Doctor answers absentmindedly, running his screwdriver over a patch of pale moss growing on a wall.
"Great. And here I thought giving a second try to our wedding gift would mean we would actually get it," Rory huffs, disappointed despite knowing better than to expect the Doctor to land them where they actually want.
He'd really thought he would do it this time, though. When the Doctor had asked at what time they would like to be brought back to Leadworth for their wedding and Amy had insisted on a proper wedding gift, Rory had really thought they would actually get to do some proper space and time travel.
Sure, they'd been to Sicily in 750 BC, and Cardiff in 2008, but when Amy had turned to Rory for ideas, he had only managed to think about how the Doctor had crashed his stag, so Rory deserved something as good or even better, right?
And the Doctor had blinked and answered with a really large and toothy grin.
"Oh, I know exactly where to take you! The Carnival of Rio de Janeiro of 2239 was the best of the century, you'll love it!" he'd exclaimed, already whizzing around the console to input the commands, and Rory and Amy had grabbed onto the railing for dear life.
An advantage of going to a carnival is that they didn't need to change. So, here they are now, with Amy in her red and white thin sweater and black shorts, Rory with his jeans and green sweater, and the Doctor in black jeans, gray cardigan and the second shirt they got him in Cardiff, a simple white one with text in black reading Breaking News: I Don't Care.
To no one's surprise, he'd taken to that one far better than the one with the chick. But well, that one had been too good to pass up. And, hey, Amy and Rory are still alive and with all their limbs attached, so he can't have hated it as much as he said, right?
Right.
"What happens now? Do we try again, go change and leave the cave, or what?" Amy asks, rubbing her arms to chase away the chill from the cave—and something flashes on her hand.
Rory frowns at it before startling when he recognizes it.
"What are you doing with that?" he asks, grabbing Amy's hand to pull it closer to his face and confirm that, yes, the thing that caught the TARDIS' light is her wedding ring.
"Oh, you know. Rio de Janeiro, all of those toned bodies and tan skin, I thought I would need a reminder not to run away," she answers with a cheeky grin, wagging her fingers to have the ring glint in the light again.
"Amy, it's Rio de Janeiro. What if it gets stolen, or lost, or—"
"Ugh, you're such a worrywart," she cuts with a huff, rolling her eyes, and Rory puffs up, insulted. "Alright, I'll leave it in the TARDIS," she adds with a smile, silencing his protests with a brief kiss.
"Hurry up, Amelia!" the Doctor calls from where he's standing next to the tunnel going out of the cave, using his screwdriver as a torch.
Amy huffs and rushes back inside, and Rory puts his hands in his pockets and joins the Doctor after sending a dreamy smile back to the TARDIS.
Oh, he just loves Amy so much. And they're about to get married. Him, Rory Williams, is about to marry Amy Pond. Him.
"Please, wipe that smile off your face before I throw up," the Doctor scoffs, rolling his eyes, and Rory startles before he realizes he was still smiling at the TARDIS. "As if I wasn't regretting picking you up already."
"You're a bundle of joy, you know that?" Rory huffs, shoulders slumping, and the Doctor answers with an unabashed grin. "How can anyone be such an asshole?"
"Years of practice. No, wait, it's a talent," he answers without missing a beat, his grin turning smug, and Rory decides he'd better just drop the topic.
With someone as moody as the Doctor, it's impossible to have a normal conversation. It's either snark, insults, him being clever, or just going completely mad. There's no middle point.
Rory would say it's an alien thing, but the Lady Lamia wasn't like that at all, so he'll just say it's a Doctor thing.
"Ready!" Amy exclaims, hurrying out of the TARDIS and pulling the door behind her so hard that it closes with a loud crack that echoes against the walls—
And a rumble fills the chamber, making the ground shake and forcing Rory and the Doctor to crouch even as Amy stumbles forward—
With a loud roar and a cloud of dust, the TARDIS tips backwards into the collapsing ground.
"No!"
"Amy!"
Both Rory and the Doctor rush towards it, Rory to pull Amy to his chest, away from the hole, while the Doctor falls to his knees on the edge, watching the tiny light from the bulb atop the TARDIS vanish into the darkness.
The noise ceases, thin dust streams stop falling from the ceiling, and the cavern fills with the sounds of their panting as they try to regain their breath.
That, and some crunching as the Doctor's hands tighten their grip on the broken edge of the hole in the ground.
Slowly, Amy stops shaking in Rory's arms and pushes off of him, though it takes Rory a bit longer to calm down.
"Raggedy Man, what happened? Why did the cave collapse? Maybe we should get out of here before the ceiling caves in too, take a moment to figure out what to do…" she whispers hurriedly, and Rory can barely make out the way she keeps glancing at the ceiling as if worried it will fall on them before they can get out.
Oh, God. They're trapped in 1880s Rio de Janeiro, underground, without a TARDIS. How is this their life?
But the Doctor doesn't answer, staring down into the hole, the light from the fallen screwdriver behind them casting his face in shadow. He can't see what expression he's wearing, but that doesn't mean Amy and Rory can't hear his pained keen.
"Raggedy Man?"
"She's gone," he whimpers, tightening his hold on the sharp edges of the hole before pulling away to grab tightly at his hair, rocking on his knees almost unconsciously. "She's gone, she's gone, she's gone—the TARDIS is gone," he repeats with growing panic, his breath quickening as he curls into himself, pulling on his hair, before straightening with a snap, looking around almost frantically. "I-I need to get her back, there has to be a way, she's all I have left, I have to get her back!" he shouts, scrambling around the hole on all fours as he prods at the edges, looking for all intents and purposes as if he's about to forego finding a secure handhold and just jump down instead.
Dust falls from the ceiling with a rumble, the ground shivering under them, and Amy and Rory cling to each other as they look up.
Some seconds later, the noise ceases and the dust stops falling.
"There's something up there," Amy whispers, slowly pushing away from Rory. "Something big."
"I vote we go the other way," Rory suggests with a gulp, watching some pebbles fall from a wall with the next rumble, softer than the previous one.
"No, no, that's it! That's it, we need to find them!" the Doctor hisses, eyes almost luminous as he scrambles to his feet, an empty grin twisting his face. "That's machinery, they must have the means to get down there, to retrieve the TARDIS! They can get her back!" he laughs, relief and a hint of madness in his voice as he bows his head and runs his hands through his hair. "I haven't lost her, I can get her back, I can – I can fix this. I can fix this," he repeats, softer this time, as he draws a couple of calming breaths, and, when he next looks up, he's rooted in the moment, no madness left in his inhumanly large hopeful grin. "What are you waiting for? Get up! We need to find those people before they leave! Come along, Ponds!" he tells them as he jumps over the hole to their side and takes off towards the tunnel, not even slowing to pick up the screwdriver.
"What the—"
"Hey, wait for us!"
He doesn't, but at least he goes slow enough that they can still use the light of the screwdriver to see where they're going. Still, they only manage to catch up when a brighter light source shines on their faces and the Doctor stops short, with Amy and Rory crashing into his back and sending all three of them to the dusty ground as a result.
"Oomph!"
"Ugh, I can't see!"
"Who the—"
"Where did these people come from?"
"Someone get the Boss!"
"Are you alright, Miss?" an unknown voice asks, clearer over the ruckus all around them thanks to the owner's proximity, and, the next second, Amy is lifted off of Rory's back to let him draw breath. "Where did you three come from?"
"Rope! I need rope, as much of it as you have, the longer and sturdier the better!" the Doctor exclaims as he jumps to his feet almost before Rory manages to roll off of him, bouncing with manic energy and getting in the face of one very flustered and startled… miner? "You, fetch me as much rope as you can!"
"And why would we listen to the demands of a group of delinquents? This is my site you have carelessly entered, and my men whom you are so carelessly ordering around, and I will not have it," a new voice harrumphs, proud and barely keeping anger at bay, as a portly gentleman steps past the group of confused and flabbergasted miners surrounding them.
To Rory's surprise, the man is wearing a very British Victorian suit, rather than the kind of lighter and not as 'posh' clothing he would've expected from a Brazilian in the late 1800s. Also, now that he can take a look around, all of the miners look most decidedly not Brazilian. Or, er, well… Brazilian workers in the 1800s weren't supposed to be mostly white men, were they?
"Well? What explanation do you have for entering my tunnels? Are you thieves, going after my equipment? Saboteurs?"
"What? No! No, we were… looking for mushrooms!" Amy answers, startled, as she hurriedly grabs one of the Doctor's arms to keep him from doing anything worse than scowling at the gentleman.
"Under Tower Hill?" the young man next to Rory exclaims, as startled as his fellow miners, and both time travelers frown in confusion. "Who looks for mushrooms in the London Underground?"
"Wait a second. We're in London?" Rory asks, and, against his wishes, he can feel his face fall.
"All of time and space, he said," Amy huffs, though, before the underground worker can say anything to that, the Doctor wrenches his arm out of her hold, attracting everyone's attention.
"London, Cardiff, Traken – who cares?! We've more important things to worry about. I need that rope now. My box fell down a sinkhole and I. Need. It. Back. Or the whole of existence will pay for it," he hisses, glaring at the gentleman who, despite being the same height as the Doctor, cowers for a moment before he remembers himself and straightens pompously.
Rory has a moment of breathlessness as he sucks in his laughter at the image, unable to not compare it to a cat puffing up to scare an unimpressed dog. Of course, the gentleman has no idea that the Doctor is much worse than that, what with Prisoner Zero, and the Atraxi running away, and what Amy mentioned about the scars and—
Amy.
"The ring," Rory whispers, dismayed, before groaning and burying his face in his hands. "The ring was in there!"
"And our only way home," Amy adds in a tone that's mostly amused, and Rory groans louder. "You really do need to check your priorities, stupid."
"My priorities? Do you know how much it cost me to actually – you were there!" he tells her in what is not a whine, trying and failing to keep at bay the memories of that disastrous and wonderful evening when he'd tried to ask Amy to marry him.
It had obviously worked, but it had most definitely not gone the way he'd planned. At all.
"And going home won't be hard?" Amy asks in return, amusement in her smile and eyes, but also a fondness that grounds Rory far more than anything else in the universe.
"I don't need to go back to be home," he answers softly, sincerely – and, apparently, embarrassingly loudly, if the way the Doctor covers his face with a groan is any clue.
Amy doesn't even think about it, glaring the Doctor into silence as soon as he looks up and opens his mouth, even if her face is bright red as she does so.
"I wasn't going to say anything," the bastard of an alien smirks, lifting his hands innocently, and Amy sniffs as she tilts her chin up to look down at him.
"Sure you weren't."
"Enough!" the gentleman finally explodes, looking quite red in the face as he puffs up even more. "I have had enough of these lunatics and their lady of the night! Get them out of my si—eep!"
Rory jumps, as startled as everyone else, and watches, eyes wide open, as a terrifyingly serious Doctor shifts his hold on his lifted screwdriver – and all the torches go out.
"Be. Still."
Rory freezes, gripping back the hand grabbing tightly on his arm, as soon as he hears the Doctor's calm whisper, and tenses as much as his unseen companion when the screwdriver—and only the screwdriver—lights up just enough to make out the Doctor's features in the darkness.
His eyes are green and luminescent when he lets them roam over what Rory assumes is the terrified group of workers, with the same frightening calm as a big cat that could pounce at any instant.
"Now that I have your attention, gentlemen, allow me to clarify on a couple of points. The first is that neither are me and my companion lunatics, nor is this young woman a 'lady of the night'. The first to suggest thus will be gladly given over to her for her to put you in your place. It will be good for you, and most amusing for me. The second point is to get me that rope I asked for. I have a box to recover, and I will get it back. If you do not wish to cooperate, then, by all means, point me to your stocks and get out of my way. And the last point… Close your eyes, Ponds."
Rory obeys even before he can realize he's been called a Pond—again—but when the world behind his eyelids lights up with a lot of shocked gasps and muffled curses, he's glad for it nonetheless.
The hand around his arm tightens for a bit as he blinks his eyes open, and when he looks at the owner, he's surprised by the sight of the young worker who helped Amy up, mostly because he's carefully opening his eyes too, unlike the rest of his coworkers.
"So, where's my rope?" the Doctor asks amicably enough, pocketing his screwdriver, but his smirk and pale golden eyes are more predatory than anything else.
"What in God's name was that?!" the gentleman squeaks, rubbing his teary eyes almost furiously as he staggers away from the Doctor, pale as death.
"Magic," the alien answers simply, and Rory sighs even as the worker next to him, finally letting his arm go, lets out a soft whoa under his breath.
"You know, Gandalf, maybe you should have warned them too if you really expected them to get you your rope as soon as you turned all the lights on again," Amy chastises with a grin, but doesn't look that bothered by all the tripping and shivering workmen trying to clear their eyes and get them used to the sudden light once more.
"I could help with that, ma'am," Rory's new friend calls out almost timidly, though his grin grows more confident when the time travelers turn to him expectantly. "Though, if your box did fall down one of the sinkholes, I can do you one better. The ground has been unstable since the cave in, but we uncovered a fairly secure tunnel going down to a net of caves," he explains, pointing to a shadowed tunnel by the one they came out of, and a couple of backpacks by its entrance. "We were to follow it in search of Mister Flint's daughter—"
"Not another word, Tolbert!" the gentleman interrupts, finally able to see clearly and once more beet red in his rage. "I will not have these lunatics roam freely in my tunnels!"
"They're probably the ones behind the murders, too. Mushrooms! And that weird 'magic'…" another worker hisses menacingly, older than Tolbert and far more hateful, as he skulks to Mister Flint's side.
"Murders?" both Amy and Rory repeat in unison, startled, while the Doctor snorts.
"Oh, of course. Because that makes complete sense."
"… It actually does," Rory feels obligated to point out, no matter how much he hates to say it.
After all, if someone strange had popped out of the most unusual place with as ridiculous an excuse as they have, when someone or something has gone around killing people, he would probably suspect them too.
"You're not supposed to tell them that," Amy hisses at him, but Rory can only shrug and lean away from her.
"None of them looks gray, sir," Tolbert points out before softening his voice. "And my name is not Tolbert…"
… Well, oops.
"See? Not us. It's a tunnel. People die in tunnels all the time, and not necessarily from radiation or giant poisonous spiders. Now, if you'll excuse us, we have a box to find," the Doctor answers pleasantly enough, ignoring the wide-eyed looks and a terrified squeak from an unknown source at the mention of the spiders.
However, when he makes to step towards the tunnel, Mister Flint steps in the way.
"I said I will not have your ilk in my tunnels!"
"But Sir, with Mister Gandalf's magic the search for Miss—"
"I said no, Tollens! That unnatural so-called magic of his could very well have been the poison that killed my men," Mister Flint hisses angrily, glaring at the Doctor while the rest of workers, barring not-Tolbert and the older man by Mister Flint's side, shuffle uneasily.
"Wait, poison? That couldn't have been us, it really wasn't," Amy interrupts, exchanging a worried look with Rory, who walks to her side so they can both turn to the Doctor, now frowning softly in confusion and what might be curiosity. "How serious were you about the giant spiders?"
"Really, Amelia. I am always serious. But there is no way they could be here, not in this time and place. And there is nothing in London with a strong enough poison to kill an adult human," he answers with a scoff, though his eyes go vacant for a moment as he ponders the situation. "Sounds more like the competition is trying to scare you all away so they can take over this stretch of the underground. I seem to recall there were some disagreements between the two companies assigned to the expansion. And I would definitely not put it below humans to kill for a contract. I have seen worse for less," he adds with a dark scowl directed at whatever memory he's obviously thinking of, before shaking himself back to the present. "One way or another, not our problem."
"But Mister Gandalf, sir… The victims were bitten. There was this gray creature, skulking around… I almost didn't see it at first, but when Jonas screamed…" the young worker explains in a quiet voice, looking away as he shivers. "I ran away before it could get me too, but it was too busy biting down on Jonas' throat to pursue me."
"Mister Thorne, that will be enough. Mister Foley was stabbed with a poisoned dagger. And these marauders could have very well committed such an act," Mister Flint sniffs, straightening once more and glaring the poor worker down, who glares at the ground with a ferocity Rory hadn't expected.
"It's Floyd. Jonas Floyd. And I know what I saw. That I was cowardly enough to let him die is more than punishment enough, I need not be made the fool to feel worse," he mumbles mutinously under his breath before deflating, defeated. "I knew I should have gone for the bank instead. Pushing papers around all day would be beyond preferable to this."
"Whatever. Come along, Ponds. TARDIS to find, parties to attend," the Doctor huffs with an eyeroll, pushing the round Mister Flint into his glaring worker as if the man weighted nothing so he can walk towards the tunnel. "I'm taking the rope anyway, one never knows when you can need it," he adds as he picks up a thick roll that he throws to Rory as if it was nothing—
And, if not for the friendly worker just a step behind him, Rory would have fallen to the ground with a breathless oomph when the heavy roll slams into his chest.
"Raggedy Man!" Amy chastises even as she tries to keep a smirk at bay, but the Doctor doesn't even have the courtesy of looking at them as he shrugs dismissively, lifting his screwdriver again and entering the tunnel.
"Here, I'll help," the worker chuckles, taking the rope out of Rory's hands and slugging it over a shoulder, slowing down for a moment as he adjusts its weight before he and Rory catch up to Amy and the Doctor, who are waiting for them a bit further ahead.
"You don't really need to come with us, you know," Amy tells him as she looks over their shoulder at the group of workers staring at them and talking nervously with one another. "Won't your boss be angry with you?"
"Oh, certainly. But I need to see this through, for Jonas if nothing else. I know what the others think of the creature, and how five deaths are not many for a project of this magnitude, but… Jonas had family, a widowed father and a sickly younger brother. I know his death hurt them, but it will be all the worse if the culprit is not brought to justice. And what of the underground? I cannot in good conscience let it open to the public when a poisonous beast might be roaming around freely in here," he explains with determination, sending a disgruntled look over his shoulder – which immediately turns to surprise as he sees the two figures approaching them, with one of them carrying a torch and one of the backpacks. "Boyce? Mister Flint?"
"As I said, I will not have these people wandering around in my tunnels, not while my daughter has yet to be found. Do not mistake this for forgiveness, Mister Gandalf, I will hand you and your fellows to the authorities as soon as we are out of here. But my daughter comes first," Mister Flint hisses at the Doctor, who answers with a deadpan look.
"Right. Are we done wasting time?"
"Maybe we should get another torch," Rory comments, eyeing the one in Boyce's hand and thinking back to the Doctor running away with his screwdriver in hand before they met the workers.
"And another of the kits would be useful," the helpful worker hums softly, to which Rory nods before frowning and turning to him.
"What's in those kits, Mister…?"
"Please, don't 'mister' me, just call me Arthur. And it's some tools, blankets, medical supplies…"
Rory's eyes light up and the Doctor groans.
The darkness is slightly lighter when she manages to open her eyes, but most of her attention is on the fire on her neck, caused by whatever is stabbing into the clavicle and by the angle lying on her side has it in.
With a groan, she carefully rolls over, trying not to put too much weight on her hands, bound at her back – and stiffens in surprise at the hiss echoing all around.
The tunnels, cursing her father under her breath as she stomps aimlessly, carefully adjusting the lamp in her grip as she almost trips on a previously unseen hole in the ground, the large and empty black eyes of the creature at the other end of the tunnel—
She turns her head towards the sound and there it is again, the monster with the gray face and the large and empty black eyes. Only, now that she has the chance to take a better look, she finally realizes that it isn't gray nor does it have metallic bits, but that it's wearing clothes instead. Strange ones, true, and there is metal on them, almost as if it was armor, but from the sideways angle she's seeing it from and the creature's crouch, she can barely make out the scaled pattern of it under the light of the moss growing in the chamber.
That and the scorch marks on its arm from when she had thrown the lantern at it as she tried to escape.
She can't help the smile on her face when she recognizes those, though it quickly turns into a grimace. Whatever those clothes are, they aren't even singed.
The monster tilts its head with another hiss, almost curious, and she tries to sit up, hard as it is with her hands tied at her back and the dizziness that threatens to take over when she moves. Her neck feels really hot too, and she struggles to remember what happened.
She had woken up like this the first time, hands tied and a shoe missing, but the beast hadn't been around then. She'd tried to run, to return to the surface and warn her father about the creature, but—
"What did you do to me? Who are you?" she asks once she finally manages to lean against the wall, the new angle making it clear that this is no beast, despite the hissing and the awkward crouching. "What do you want? If you think that stupid costume is going to scare me, you have something else coming," she adds, lifting her chin and trying to ignore how the gesture tugs on the stab wound on her clavicle.
She doesn't know what this would-be monster stabbed her with, but it burns.
"Costume?" her captor repeats with an accent she cannot place, as sibilant as the hissing that follows, before they tilt their head once more in a manner that reminds her of birds instead of humans. "Is this the best your inferior brain can come up with, ape? Then, let me correct it. I will not have you die believing this to be a charade," they add, straightening threateningly while one hand reaches for the mask covering their face—
And she finds herself face to face with green scales and horns and a human-like and yet completely inhuman face, almost feminine by the shape of it. Though she's not sure such a word can apply to this creature despite the curves of the body that seem to support such a theory, noticeable now that it's holding itself taller and so more visible in the moss's soft light.
"Your eyes… They are so beautiful, and yet so sad," she whispers before she can think it through, and the creature stiffens with yet another hiss, those gorgeous and devastated eyes the color and coldness of ice widening with her words. "You're sad, yes, you are. But why? Why would you be sad?" she asks, spurned by the creature's reaction, but this time, she's only answered by silence.
Which… Alright, it's fair. It isn't like her kidnapper owes her an explanation—
"You kidnapped me. You didn't kill me, you kidnapped me. But… it can't be for ransom, can it? I mean, you're not human…"
"Ransom," the creature repeats, snorting, and her face barely scrunches into a scowl that somehow feels more intense than such an expression would merit. "The only thing I want from you apes is your blood on my hands, filling these tunnels until there are none of you left," it—she hisses, baring her teeth as she leans forward threateningly, and, this time, the glint in those blue eyes is recognizable.
"Alone," she whispers, and the creature straightens once more, stiff and hissing softly, and she can only answer with a sad smile, keeping her eyes on those beautiful blue ones despite the strange and sudden urge to look away, as if she was ashamed of her own situation for the first time in her life. "I understand. You're hurt and you want to hurt someone else for it. Oh, God, I miss my father," she says before she can stop herself, finally dropping her head and wincing as her neck burns. "It hurts… What did you do to me?"
The creature's nostrils flare as she hisses once more, still stiff and unmoving, before it stands up quickly in a fluid motion that seems too smooth to have been real.
"What you deserved. All apes will pay," she snarls, eyes alight with rage, before putting the mask back on and leaving the chamber without another word.
AN: This chapter shares its title with the very first chapter of the Lord of the Rings.