Chapter Warnings: Description of PTSD, alluded panic attack, brief suicidal thoughts
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Chapter Fifteen: The Other Mozart
Part One
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The shower was a welcome distraction. Intense water pressure and water hot enough to nearly scald your skin off was thankfully enough to clear my head and awaken me from the living-dead type stupor I had been in for the last few weeks. And GOD, was I filthy. Weeks without any real form of cleansing had left me very nearly literally caked in dead skin and grime.
I mentally sent an apology to the TARDIS as I watched the murky brown water vanish down the drain.
When my skin was red and raw and I felt like I couldn't possibly get any cleaner, I hopped out of the shower and snagged one of the fluffy towels the wonderful time ship left out, feeling much better than I had when I'd gotten in. Unfortunately, my somewhat acceptable frame of mind was even shorter lived than I'd originally hoped.
I'd caught sight of myself in the mirror.
I slowly lowered the towel so I could get a look at my naked body in the full length mirror that extended from the sink, grimacing slightly at the sight. Weeks of little to no food and water hadn't done me any favors. Red and pruning skin stretched thinly across a fragile frame. A bird fresh out of its egg. Fragile. Small. Helpless.
I shuddered and pinched at the dark circles under my eyes. I would really have to work on my health.
After I'd dressed in comfy leggings and a well loved T-shirt, I curled up in bed and tried to close my eyes. I was tired; I'd been tired for absolute ages. But no matter how hard I tried to relax every muscle one by one, or counted a fraction of the infinite expanse of holographic stars above my head, sleep wouldn't take me. I was far too stressed and wired for that. Restless. Couldn't settle. Something I'd forgotten.
Whatever.
Eventually I gave up and, after pulling on a pair of converse, wandered out of my room to find the Doctor.
Instinctively, my feet found their way into the console room. Not sure how, to be honest, because it was much closer than usual. I'd only taken one turn instead of two.
Perhaps the TARDIS has something else in mind, I considered. Was that why I couldn't fall asleep? Could she do that? Make her passengers restless so they'd get up and do stuff instead of sleep.
Huh. Wouldn't surprise me.
I spotted the Doctor almost immediately. He was standing on the other side of the console, resting his hands against the metal and staring deeply into the time rotor, evidently lost in thought.
"Hey," I greeted meekly, padding over to the console as well to peer at his distorted figure through the glass. "Tried to sleep but didn't get very far. Any other ideas?"
No response. The Time Lord didn't move at all or otherwise do anything to acknowledge my presence.
"You wouldn't believe how much dirt I got off me," I tried again. "Never thought I'd appreciate showers so much."
Still nothing.
"Doctor?"
I edged around the console carefully to get a better look at him. Once he was in full view, it was very obvious that something was wrong.
"Doctor? Are you okay?"
His hands weren't resting on the console, they were gripping it so tight that his knuckles had turned ghostly white. Every muscle was rigid, his breathing coming out in quick gasps. He wasn't gazing into the time rotor pensively either, but staring straight through it at something only he could see. Whatever it was, it couldn't be nice. No, the way his face was twisted into a grimace, pale and fear stricken with sweat beading on his brow suggested something very, very bad.
"Doctor?" I asked again, softer this time. He might as well have been made of stone. I edged closer and raised a trembling hand to touch his arm, but hesitated.
After a brief one sided mental conversation with the TARDIS, I scraped up the confidence to close the gap and lay my hand on his leather clad arm.
The Doctor flinched hard, yanking his arm away violently and shoving me away from him.
I staggered back a few steps but didn't lose my balance.
"What? What is it? What?" The Doctor snarled. Disoriented and afraid, he sounded much angrier than he probably was, causing me to cower. I could still see the fear in his eyes, now blended with confusion. He glared around the console room wildly, looking for the threat before resting his icy gaze on me.
"Nothing important," I reassured. I smiled gently in spite of my heart beating out of my chest. My muscles screamed at me to run, but I held my ground. "Just thought I'd join you."
"Oh." The Doctor relaxed somewhat. He spun around and pressed a few buttons purposefully, though I was pretty sure none of them actually did anything. They certainly didn't do anything to hide the way his hands were trembling.
"Yeah," I continued mildly, taking a few slow, deliberate steps closer, watching for a reaction. "Couldn't sleep. Though the shower was nice. I'd forgotten how great hot water can be."
He was watching me out of the corner of his eye, but otherwise gave no positive reaction to my coming closer. It wasn't negative, either. I kept my hands in plain sight until I brushed up against him at the console. He looked away from me and stared hard at the complex array of buttons and levers.
"I haven't been so grateful for indoor plumbing since that time me and my brother got into a mud fight. There was a creek that ran through woods next to my house…"
I reached out and covered one of his trembling hands with my own. He responded by latching onto my fingers with a grip so tight that I was sure they would break.
"It was fall, and it was starting to get cool out, ya know? Not COLD cold, but cold enough that playing in the water was a stupid idea. Anyway, we got absolutely covered in clay. Georgia red clay, so our clothes were completely ruined."
It took him a few moments and three tries, but he finally managed to drag his eyes up to meet mine. I wasn't a fan of eye contact, but I kept my dark blue eyes on his light ones that were full of fear and embarrassment.
"By the time we wore ourselves out, we were both completely numb and had to walk all the way up the hill, barefoot, through the woods. My Grandpa had to spray us off with the garden hose before my Nana would let us in the house to get cleaned off the rest of the way."
I slipped my arm around his and pressed myself against him, still holding his gaze. He shifted his weight slightly so he was leaning more fully against me. Encouraged, I wrapped my other arm around to entwine my fingers with his, effectively hugging one of his arms to my chest.
We stayed like that for a few minutes, sharing a semi-comfortable silence. Eventually I felt the tremors in his hand subside and noticed his breathing even out.
"You okay?"
The Doctor shrugged me off easily, smacking on a very fake but very practiced grin.
"Course I am! I'm always okay." He shot me a questioning look. "What're you doing up anyway? Thought it'd be ages until I saw you back here."
"Couldn't settle," I explained for the third time, though this time he actually seemed to be listening.
He nodded pensively and stared at his hands for a moment before asking, "What's your brother's name? The one you played in the mud with."
I was mildly surprised that he had actually been paying attention. "Charlie."
"Older or younger?"
Maybe talking about it was helping him calm down.
"Younger. I had two brothers. I was the oldest, then it was Charlie, then Geordie."
"Have, not had," the Time Lord corrected kindly. "They're still your family, Buff."
My heart contorted painfully, and I was hard pressed not to say, 'it doesn't feel like it'. I didn't though. It would open a whole train of conversation that I really didn't want to have with him, or have at all.
Instead, I said, "I guess so."
The Doctor, shoving down his own pain while I struggled to do the same with mine, knew enough to not press the matter. He turned back and started fiddling with the monitor. "Well, if you're not gonna rest, we might as well get back to business."
I rested my elbows on the console and stared up at him. "'Business'?"
He nodded. "Tell me what happened to the fissure you were trying to fix, right before the pirates."
"Ah." Feelings of mild dread caused my fingers to tingle. I fiddled with a lever awkwardly. "I sort of… broke it."
The Doctor snorted. "I'll say. Look."
He swung the monitor around for me to see the crack in space-time in question. I winced at the sight. What had once been a stereotypical crack now looked like something you'd see in a window next door to a baseball field. The gash was torn all out of shape, twisted and gaping like a yawning mouth trapped in the middle of a spiderweb.
"Oops."
The Doctor rolled his eyes."That wasn't you trying to fix it, was it?"
"No! Well, sort of. I almost had it fixed… but when the attack started, I sort of freaked and, well… made it worse."
The Doctor sighed. "Well, we can't leave it like that. You'll have to go back in and finish the job. Mind you, now it won't be near as easy to fix."
"So does that mean we have to go back to China?"
My dread intensified. Something I did not want to do.
"'Fraid so." The Doctor acknowledged, starting the dematerialization sequence.
"What about the creature?" My voice was barely audible over the sounds of the TARDIS engines. I had given him a brief rundown on what had occurred right before he'd found me. Naturally, I hadn't been overly eager to discuss it, but he'd needed to know.
"Dead. That's what you said." The Doctor was gruff, keeping his focus on the controls in front of him. "Right?"
"Yeah. But you haven't explained it yet."
The Doctor sighed, yanking a final switch into place, causing the TARDIS to settle into a fairly smooth landing. "And I will. One step at a time, though. Finish this job, and I'll explain everything. Deal?"
No, no deal. That's what I wanted to say; that I wasn't going to go anywhere near where those creatures could be ever again. But I didn't.
"I'll go get the medallion."
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The fissure was even more devastating in person. The actual rift itself was almost as tall as me, but the offshoots from it spiderwebbed what must've been at least fifteen feet high and twenty feet across.
How the fuck was I supposed to fix that?
I breathed deeply and considered my options. Huh, like I had any. The mist surrounding me stirred slightly, causing me to shiver. Should've found warmer clothes.
One step at a time?
One step at a time.
So that's what I did. Beginning with some of the offshoots, moving right to left, I began sewing. Not messily this time, either. I took it seriously, keeping each individual stitch small and neat. At the end of each curve or fork in the interstice, I would calmly instruct the manipulator to tighten the thread of light, release that particular strand, and take up another to begin again. It quickly became repetitive and monotonous, but also managed to be somewhat calming. Like coloring. I even found myself starting to zone out. Before long, all of the smaller fissures that I could immediately reach were all taken care of.
I stood back to admire my handy work. Neat and mended. Now only the main fissure and the smaller ones above it were left. After another moment's consideration, I decided that it would be best to finish the remaining tendrils before attacking the main one. Not that I knew if there would be any difference if I did the big one first, it just made sense to have some sort of order.
A quick glance back confirmed that the Doctor was keeping his promise of waiting. He looked bored though; I didn't need to see his face to tell that. The Time Lord's Blank form was leaning back against the solid form of the TARDIS with his arms crossed in front of his chest.
I smiled fondly and began considering how to reach the fractures that were currently beyond my reach.
Could I climb?
No.
Wait. Stupid.
I fingered the medallion thoughtfully, running my finger over the crimson jewel.
Ok. Can climb.
It was like a ladder. I'd take a step up, and the fog would solidify into some kind of invisible step. Same with the handholds.
It felt a bit like learning to drive. Gritting your teeth, gripping the wheel far too tightly, and methodically checking and rechecking that you were doing everything perfectly. I was consciously instructing the invisible platform I was kneeling on to, you know, continue existing while I multitasked and did the same to the interdimensional-thread-whatever and the skin of the edge of the universe.
Hopefully. Hopefully, it would get easier with time, and, like driving, become second nature.
In. Out. In. Out. Tighten. Release.
Rethread. In. Out. In. Out.
And the top part was done. Only the main rift was left.
I had just begun to climb down and re-adjust my dimensional platform to better accommodate the angle when I heard it.
A low, guttural growl that reverberated in my bones.
No.
I skittered back up onto my platform and lay flat, watching the lit up gash with bated breath. Then, from within the crack at the edge of the universe—
Something moved.
Claws gripped the edges of the fissure, grasping and heaving itself free like a gigantic insect forcing entry from underneath a door.
I couldn't move.
Couldn't breathe.
Panic gripped my chest, tingled in my hands, and sapped all the feeling from my legs.
There was another one?
Calm down.
Breathe.
The creature was bigger than the last one. Not by much, but still. It seemed to sniff around a bit before returning its attention to the rift. With sick fascination, I watched as it's jaws unhinged unnaturally, just as the other's had when it ate the woman on the ship. It sank its teeth into the edge of the rift, latching on and sucking in great gulps of light from the fissure. Like a leech.
Feeding.
Not interested in me.
I slipped down from the platform cautiously, daring to slip by it.
With a snap and a sucking noise, I crossed back over to the regular world. Only daring to let out the breath I had been holding when the sun hit my cheeks.
The Doctor's eyes snapped up to mine, boredom immediately melting into concern as I raced over to him.
"What happened?" He demanded. "Are you alright?"
I sort of managed to babble out a response, which proved difficult due to my heart pounding so hard that it hurt.
The Doctor listened with raised eyebrows, then frowned and scrubbed at his face with his hands.
"Come on," he instructed, jerking his head to indicate the TARDIS doors. I followed without hesitation.
Once inside, he turned to face me, blunt as ever. "There's nothing I can do, but you can't just leave it there."
I blinked at him owlishly, having trouble comprehending what he had just said. "Wha— me?"
He crossed his arms across his chest once more. "Yes, you."
"How?" I demanded, my voice going up in pitch.
"The same way you handled the last one."
"You mean… kill it?"
My hands were tingling again.
The Doctor nodded casually, as if there was nothing to it.
His nonchalance was causing me to panic even more than I already was. Oh, you know that big scary thing that EATS people? Yeah, you have to fight it.
Do my legs still even exist?
"Why me?" I squeaked, suddenly finding it hard to breathe.
"Cos you're the only one that can get across into the… what 'ave you been calling it? The Otherside. Rubbish name, by the way. The Chronomites can only be killed while in multi-dimensional flux."
"Chronomites?" Bile rose to the top of my throat. "I think I've heard that before."
The Doctor shook his head. "Doubt it. TV show or not, I've never crossed paths with one before. You're probably thinking of the Chronovores."
That rang a bell. "I guess?"
"Chronovores are sentient beings that exist in the Time Vortex and in the Blank Space beyond the universe, where they feed on time. Very very ancient, and very very powerful. Chronomites are sort of similar, I guess. As in they exist outside the universe and feed on time energy. But Chronomites aren't sentient like the Chronovores. More like a fungus than a regular life form. Parasites. They can feed and fester wherever there's a wound in time."
"Like the crack?"
"Yeah. Like the crack. Usually they're rare. Grow in the void between universes and feed on paradoxes and other anomalies because they don't have the power to break into the universes themselves. Harmless. But something's gone wrong, the skin of the universe has been fracturing, and they're getting in."
"So if I'm supposed to fix the cracks…" God, I can't breathe.
"You have to get rid of them too," The Doctor insisted firmly. "Otherwise they'll just chew another hole through and let more in. Whatever caused the fractures attracted a swarm. Time and space is being infested."
"I'm not an exterminator," I snipped, fear making me angry.
"Well, tough," The Doctor quipped back, already losing his patience, "Cos they can't be killed in this dimensional plane. It has to be done from the inside."
I remembered Ching Shih burying her blade into the creature's— the Chronomite's back, and how little effect it had— and then the knives I had given the other prisoners. They hadn't stood a chance.
"I can't," I hissed. "I don't want to."
I can't breathe.
"There isn't a choice," the Time Lord bristled, misinterpreting my tone. "You're the only one that can!"
"But I just can't! I can't kill those things!"
I can't breathe.
Jaws that unhinged and claws as long as my hand.
"You did it before!"
Pressed into the ground with it's mouth hovering over me, ready to swallow me whole.
"On accident!"
Breathe, Buffy.
A string of saliva dripping on my face. Cold blood gushing on my hands.
"People are going to die!"
An unearthly growl that could make the world go still.
So could I.
"That's not my problem!" I snarled, not really sure if I meant what I was saying or not.
"This isn't the time to get selfish! That Chronomite you saw will only feed on the kinetic temporal energy for a while, then it'll turn on the people for their potential energy."
Like a Weeping Angel. Stealing people's could-have-beens in an instant.
"You can't make me," I snapped, trying to hide how shaky my voice was by sounding tough.
"'You can't make me'," he mocked. "Do you have any idea how childish you sound?"
The Doctor's expression had melted into one of vague disgust. My already palpitating heart clenched painfully at the sight.
"I'm not you!" I snapped, hurt. "I can't kill things! I'm not cut out for this! I'm just not!"
I didn't realize the implications of that statement until after I said it, when the Doctor's face darkened drastically from annoyance to cold anger.
"No," the Doctor said, deathly calm, though I could see the storm raging underneath. "You're not. But a lot of people are going to die if you don't. So you can get over it, or get out."
It felt like he'd slapped me across the face. "Wh-What?"
I had to fight to keep my breath from wheezing in my throat.
"You heard me," he growled. "I'm not having a self-absorbed child on my TARDIS. You can stay and do your bloody job, or I can take you home. Your choice."
Waves of despair washed over me, sapping away whatever strength reserves I had. Almost certain death, or a lonely apartment.
I really wasn't sure what would be worse.
In the jaws of an alien, or at the end of a rope strung over a door frame. The end result would be the same.
I refused to cry, even though my throat was tight and burning. I promised myself in the stockade at the belly of the pirate ship that I wasn't going to cry in front of anyone ever again. This was no exception.
We were quiet for a few moments before I dropped my eyes and stared hard at the floor. "What am I supposed to do?" I asked bitterly.
My hands were shaking from the stress. I balled them into fists and crossed my arms to keep them hidden.
The Doctor hesitated, and I heard him turn and move towards the console. I managed to glance up at his back.
"I don't know." He admitted lowly, fiddling with the console.
My heart stopped when the engines came to life, the beloved trademark TARDIS sound ringing in my ears, destroying my hope for the first time, rather than kindling it.
"Are you taking me back?" I was still determined not to cry, but I couldn't prevent my voice from cracking.
"No," the Doctor said quietly, keeping all his focus on the controls. "But I suppose we can put off dealing with the Chronomite for a bit. I've fused the coordinates, so we're guaranteed to come back within five minutes after we left."
I clung on to the railing, not sure if I was disappointed or relieved. What I was sure of was that I was sad. And angry. And for the exact same reasons. It hurt, and I felt as lonely as ever.
"Where are we going, then?" I asked somberly, glancing away at the bottom part of the console when the Doctor cast a glance behind him in my direction.
"Just a quick trip," he said quietly. "We've both been stuck in one spot for the last few weeks. Makes sense to go somewhere else for a bit. Change of scenery."
The sound of the TARDIS landing replaced that of the engines in flight. The Doctor nodded to a hallway I hadn't been down before. "That way to the wardrobe. The TARDIS'll show you. Go on. You can't go out dressed like that."
"I don't even know what I'm dressing for."
"The TARDIS will give you the options. Hurry up. I don't want to wait all day."
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Finding the wardrobe was enough to distract me for a short time. From what I could tell, the TARDIS was feeling sympathetic for my plight, because she didn't try to confuse me once. All I had to do was walk in the direction the Doctor indicated, and the TARDIS did the rest. Doors slid open on their own, and the lights of certain passageways would flicker when I needed to turn. I knew I should probably be trying to remember the directions, but my brain was too scrambled to retain anything for more than a few seconds.
A final door opened, wooden, as opposed to the usual metal and I found myself in a massive room that was absolutely overflowing with clothes. The first level must've been at least the size of a warehouse, like one you might expect to see in the costuming department of a high budget movie production company, but then you could look up and see all the levels above. The place was round in shape, and I could see stairs lining the walls to take me higher into individual changing rooms and offshoot sections of specific clothing types.
I crossed my arms nervously, feeling inexplicably exposed.
"Uhh, so what should I go with?" I asked the ship out loud even though it probably wasn't necessary.
Somewhere among the seemingly endless racks of clothes, a light turned on. I stood on my toes in an attempt to see the source, but quickly gave up and made my way over to it, tripping over extra bits and pieces of clothing that spilled out into the walkways.
The point of origin turned out to be a kind of changing area on the far side of the room. Taking the hint, I pushed my way inside and found that It was bigger than I expected, brightly lit with old fashioned bulbs and furnished with luxurious red velvet carpet and furniture. Within was a set of three mirrors, so you could examine yourself from nearly every angle, and at least twenty racks of clothes, all brimming with various types of dresses.
I returned my attention to the mirrors, where an electronic panel had caught my eye. The screen said:
Preset: Earth;
1760's; Austria;
Female; Upper-class
Under this was a diagram of a woman dressed in what I imagined to be the fashion from 1760s Europe. I chewed at my fingernail briefly before tapping the diagram. A new key popped up beside it that said [BEGIN] in bright green.
"Step one," a monotone woman's voice began, making me flinch, "Undergarments…"
Article by article, the computer directed me through the clothing I would need, conveniently highlighting the section of the rows to pick from as I went. It was also helpful enough to show me how to put on each item, which turned out to be ridiculously difficult. At least I didn't have to figure out how to put on a corset by myself.
What felt like hours later, I was decked out in a dress with an intricate blue and white pattern and a ton of lace. A ridiculous hoop skirt made my hips twice as wide as they usually were, and the corset was already starting to piss me off. But, I was pretty sure I looked the part.
I was about to leave and go for the console room, but the door to the dressing room slid shut on its own.
"What?" I asked the ceiling moodily, wishing more and more that I'd just stayed in bed.
The panel on the wall distinctly said in flashing letters: [Proceed to hair station]
I sighed and wandered over to where the spotlight directed. In the corner was what appeared to be a well lit makeup station. Behind the red-velvet chair was something that resembled one of this beehive hair dryer things that you would sometimes see in hair salons. I had a feeling that this wasn't the same thing.
Nevertheless, I hopped into the chair, flinching when the hair-thingy came to life, lowering over my head and sucking up my hair inside of it.
For a moment, I was terrified that I was going to lose my auburn locks, but a new panel appeared from within the mirror, displaying a variety of styles that were available for the time period.
They all were fairly ridiculous, but I finally settled on one that was slightly less hideous than the rest. The machine began humming, and I felt the odd tug as my hair was arranged accordingly. It took a while, as the styles for this period were fairly complex, but when it finished, I was impressed.
The computer recommended a simple powder for makeup, which I applied, and I was released into the rest of the ship. I assumed the TARDIS was satisfied, seeing as the control room was closer than it had been when I left it.
Upon arrival, I was surprised to find that the Doctor has changed as well, or sort of. Instead of his normal shirt, he was in a sort of waistcoat with his leather jacket over top. He also had a hat; a wide brimmed thing that was turned up on three sides. His pants and shoes remained the same.
Seemed to me to be a half-assed attempt to blend in.
"You took forever," he complained, but it didn't seem like his heart was in it.
"It's not my fault that Eighteenth Century fashion is freaking ridiculous. The dressing thingy said Austria?" I asked quietly, still stung by our earlier argument.
"Yep!" The Doctor confirmed, finally turning with a smile that was just a bit too wide. His eyes dived over my dress and he nodded with approval. "That'll do. Let's get a shift on."
"What's in 1760's Austria?" I wondered as he led me out the door.
"Dunno. The TARDIS picked it. Shall we?" The Doctor strode out into the sunlight and offered me his arm.
I took it, but was staring around distractedly. It looked more or less like I'd expected. Cobblestone streets lined with old fashioned buildings, packed with people in various qualities of dress and carriages pulled by horses. Like the first time I set foot in a place in a time far before mine, I was bewildered, overwhelmed, and humbled. I made sure I didn't cling onto the Doctor like I did last time, though, and held onto his arm loosely like some of the other people traversing the streets were doing.
"Vienna, by the looks of it," the Doctor announced, his fake smile melting into a real one. He sniffed the air thoughtfully. "Late 1760s. 1768 or 1769, give or take. C'mon, let's see what Vienna has to offer."
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Responses to Reviews:
KittyBear98 : Yes, those were glimpses from her past. When I wrote the chapter the first time it felt kinda dry so I thought I would try and add some depth to her while I had the opportunity. Thanks for reading!
myharlequinromance321 : I'm glad that you liked Ching Shih. I read about her online and thought she was a great historical figure that so few people know about. Thanks for reviewing!
riotgirl777 : Yeah, I didn't forget XP Glad you're enjoying it!
ShirleyMallery : Your instincts are on point :D
That's Balderdash ; PrincessMagic ; ; m ; Faery66 : Thank you all so much!
RandomFandoming : Yeah, I feel you. I keep feeling like I've run out of good stories to read. And thanks for taking a chance with this! I know the title makes it sound kind of weak but I was kinda pumped up on coffee pretty late at night when I came up with the title and now it's too late. XD Hope you continue liking it!
Alikai : Thanks! I've been having some trouble balancing character development, which is taking time to do, and plot development, which feels like it needs to go quickly. It's wonderful to hear that it's all working out. Trying to ease Buffy into being a badass from her point of being terrified of everything is a little tedious, and I'm happy that her character isn't coming off awkwardly. Thanks for reading!
Raise a glass to freedom : OMG Thank you SO much! Don't worry XD it'll get easier for her before too long. All the horrible stuff is what is gong to get her characterization from point A to point B and so on, so she has to adapt before I can start throwing different kinds of problems at her. And there IS more to her ability to learn a new skill quickly... I kind of tried to allude to it but that's something that won't really start being obvious until season 2 so it's going to be forever before we get there :( And I get what you're saying about Buffy's characterization and I love it that she's coming off as likable. Keep speculating about how she got into this universe! It's killing me that it's going to take so long for ya'll to find out about it, but I already have how and when set in stone so oh well. (Hint: Think about Time Locks.) I'm looking forward to more Jack too! Hopefully it won't be 50 chapters... but with the rate I'm writing at, it might be. Thanks for reading and reviewing!