Bare Ones Teeth
"And even as I wander, I'm keeping you in sight
You're a candle in the window on a cold, dark winter's night
And I'm getting closer than I ever thought I might" Bastille – Can't fight this feeling.
"Flames they licked the walls
tenderly they turned to dust all that I adore" Bastille – Things we lost in the fire.
Chapter 1: Just keep me out of this.
Life was something; I had always pushed through with barely anything adequate to show for it. My grades were below average, my skills adequate and my intellect good in a streetwise sense. I was unnoticeable and pretty plain in most aspect, I rarely looked in the mirror with pride but just the knowledge that was me who I was looking at because at most, even I forgot what I looked liked.
I find myself looking through my fingers to the scruff of my own jeans, as my head is leaning against the cool window of the humming bus. I ignored the worlds that flutter past and the reflection reminding me of the nobody before her. I pulled my jumper sleeves further down to cover the palms of my hands, huffing to bring some warmth to enrapture back into my own skin, much as it was futile. I mutter the lyrics of the song playing through my little ear buds to somehow bring ease into my mind. I never enjoyed bus rides with stranger seated all around me. It was almost suffocating sometimes. Luckily, today it was only a few people as it was end of the day and all the kids were at school.
Grasping my bag closer and making sure my phone and purse are in my pocket, I pressed the button for the next stop. The routine almost plastered into my brain, not needing to look up to know where I was. The bus holts at a stop and I bring myself to slip off with a squeaky "thank you." To the bus driver before he drives off.
I start to walk towards home; I've never left my home of upbringing. The town I know the back of my hand and the handful of people and their familiar faces. The schools I went too were all here, beside collage I had to travel to get to but once I was eighteen and finished, I left education as soon as possible. I've been working full-time at a shop since, trying to figure what I want to do with my life. Scraping and saving the last few years, hoping to buy my own place one day. If that'll ever be possible.
The town was a little place that could easily be walked from one end to another in probably 40 minutes. It was built up with homes of those with money and council homes. The rich and poor melded together into a mush in this town, sometimes they shined out in some way. Most the time, most people keep their heads down and kept to their own business. It was a very quiet and isolating town if one was not used to it. I preferred the antisocial society here, less drama and fights seemed to happen because no one could or would say anything to another to even start such conversations.
Even with it being so built up, there were patches of trees and greenery in which the birds would fill in the quietness alongside the moving of vehicles. At night, cat's fights could be heard or the crunches of the leaves as the foxes come out for the hunt for their meal. It was a town of simplify life and yet, I wonder what it be like if I had been born decades earlier when community existed before me. When neighbours were friends and local events kept everyone together, to talk and entertain the evening along.
I thought of my grandparents and their lives, the people and the village she lived in ran together. Everyone knew everyone, gossip rang and yet friendships still clung from the youths to elder. They got together seasonally to talk of the history of the village, the homes and the war. The people affected and their ties to the land they are a part of. However, even I can see that this traditional is dying with the older folk of the village. With each person pasting, something felt missing, almost lost in the tiny village. They had left the tiniest marks with me and I couldn't help but hope that these things could one day be lived through their children.
Stuffing my fingers into my bag, I pulled my house keys out and I found myself staring at the brown wooden door with the coloured glass. I felt like I needed to keep the image of my front door to myself. It was something, I always found myself doing. I shook my head and put the keys in and let myself in. the hallway welcome me with the soft thud of the closing door, I made sure to locked it before taking my shoes off. I shuffled myself up the carpeted stairs, past the bathroom and into my chaotic mess of a bedroom. It was quiet and empty, which was something I was slowly getting used to. It was something; I wished I never had to get used too.
My room is filled with stuff teddy bears and trinkets that I have collected over the years, in which I never had the heart to let go. Boxes beneath the bed filled with memories and pictures that I didn't have the heart to look at. Walls covered in posters, tickets and photographs to make me feel like there was more to my life, to make it feel less empty. Clothes hung on my computer chair, thrown over in the rush of the early hours of the dawn without thought. I shrug my coat off and threw it with the rest, leaving an echo of the noise to come across my ears as it rustled atop the other mountains of clothes. I shook it off, dropping my bag at the foot of the bed, bringing myself to huddle atop of the soft abode of my bed bringing my knees close to me as I listened to quietness of my home.
The stairs squeaked, like they had done since I was a very little girl. The walls groaned against the wind, reminding how old this home was and yet I stilled adore the walls around me. Shadows and conversations that once spoke along the walls gave me comfort even if I wanted to shut the doors and for a second I could hid away from the memories. Today, I wanted to feel the seconds and the moments that once where, to relish in it. To feel like I'm not alone in the home that once was filled with chaotic madness, that you couldn't move without a body to clash upon and the laughter that use to echo. I find myself grasping my pillow to myself as I fade into the past. Missing the sounds of barks that use to greet me when I returned home, the cat that would scratch when you scared him accidentally. My father would hum and sing in the evenings when he'll pick me up in the car. My mother discussed the future with me and where she'll hope to find me one day, a future in which she'll never see now.
Then I'll awaken to the glow of the sun setting, the day leaving me once again. Lips dry and tongue gasping like a fish out of water and rumble of my stomach forces me out of the bed once more, onto my feet. Stumbling down the stairs and into the kitchen, I pull a microwave meal from the fridge. With the instruction completed and the meal in the microwave, spinning under the yellow glow I find myself seeing my eyes in the reflection. Honeydew brown eyes, a colour that felt like it was melting the longer you looked and with that I flinched away from the sight. I fiddled with my hands, a collection of small scars from working with paper and boxes over the years still smeared across my fingers, the jumper sleeves partly frayed. I jump at the beeping of the microwave and I catch my heart at my stupid plunder of thoughts; my hand gripping my jumper at the chest as if that'll do any good. With a shiver and deep breath, I go to retrieve my meal from the box touching with my bare hands without care. The heat no longer hurt and I didn't care much for my hands, it just felt nice to feel something across the skin.
I eat my meal in the dining room slash my father space. I sat at the table, alone surrounded by empty chairs. My father computer sat untouched beside a clean to stop the dust from settling over and reminding me how long it has been since we last talked. The garden, the little patch of square had overgrown like a jungle in the last few months and I knew my mother would not be pleased when she came home, if they ever did come home. I pull my phone out and check my emails and call history, I sigh feeling deep rumbles in my bones and choking feeling in my throat. I forced it down with deep breathes, reminding where I was and what was around me. I smelt the cinnamon apple spray I used around the rooms and felt the table wood underneath my left hand, I breathe and keep eating. I think it was curry and rice, though I didn't care to look. My taste have faded a bit under the stress and worry, in which I found caring less to what I eat as long I eat something.
The room darken under the night and I felt lost. That thought made me want to get out and breathe, I picked up my meal and threw it away. I got on one of my other thicker warmer coats; a woolly bomber jacket hanging in the hallway. I took my keys from the key display and stopped realising I had nothing on my feet; I shook my head at myself and pulled on my old boots and tied the laces, double. Double checking my pockets, I had keys and some basic things like tissues and plasters. I hum pleased with myself once I found my little earphones and put those on as I played a playlist on my phone.
I locked the door, push myself back and looked at my home once more. Then with a swift turn, I bumped right into nothing. I wince at the bump of my head and nose; opening my eyes again I stared down the street of my home town. Nothing in front of me and yet as I reached my hands, something was definitely there. "Yup, I am going mad." I mutter to myself as I pat what felt like wood as I try to find a way around it, so I could keep going and ignore what strangely is in front of me. With a slip of my hands and with the force I had been using, I find myself falling forward and down the pathway. I groan, annoyance bubbling yet I sigh. Knowing now isn't the time. I pick up my ear buds and move on, shaking off the strange feeling. Strange things happened all the time and I long stopped questioning them, I had enough of therapy to know there isn't anything I can do but 'keep buggering on'.
The rest of the walk was normal, just a late night walk around the neighbourhood. I found myself watching as the houses lights slowly turned off one by one, a very few stayed on still. I couldn't bring myself to go home, there was nothing to go back to and all it means is sleeping and work. I wasn't ready to go back to that and it was only nearing midnight, much too early to try and sleep. I found myself further walking down, finding someone else sitting outside their home, on top of their brick wall. A lit cigarette upon their lips, a smile on their lips; their figure I've never seen before yet this home I never seen anyone from it before.
Blue, crystal eyes turn to me. They take their cigarette out of their lips and pat next to them. "Can't sleep either, huh?" the voice soft and feminine as they spoke. I pull myself up on the brick wall, scuffing my hands in the progress.
"You could say that." I answer, because maybe I was scared to sleep but I wasn't going to tell them that. "I'm Jay. You?"
"Jade." She answers quickly before taking another puff of smoke. Her gaze stuck to watching the trees sway under the moonlight. I find myself intrigue by her, not many people want to speak in the ungodly hours of the night, not many would want company from a stranger. She was unique, I always liked unique people. I noticed her hands were covered in scars, burns and spots of wounds still healing. They weren't pretty yet they told stories, many I doubt I could get out of her.
She wore a cream shirt and dark green suspenders and green jeans that frayed at the bottom. White ankle socks and black loafers. Her hair short and spiked upwards, the colour of the night. Underneath her left eye sat a scar; a very deep one that was a dark pink against her fair skin tone. Her lips dry, chipped and bitten. Her eyes turned to me, with the quirk of her thick eye brows as she looked me over as if looking at the mirror for the first time in years. She smiles softly at me, as if to say, things will get better.
"So Um." I start, fiddling with my fingers once more as I stare down my lap; I try and splutter the words out of my lungs. "What brings you out here besides not being able to, well, sleep?"
She chuckles, as if relishing in something and I couldn't help be confused about it. Why did that feel so familiar? She sighs, as to calm herself down. "Many a thing could bring me out tonight. Mainly just the peace and quiet. It's the first in years I have experienced."
I was surprised, she who wanted nothing but the quiet and I, who wanted the noise to return to my world. To opposite ends of world we were, it felt strange and lonely once more. "Funny, I was trying to find noise and something more than just the creaks of my stairs." I reply, truthfully and without thought.
"Well, you may not have to wait much longer for that." She mutters before taking another puff, it smoke drifted upwards into the stars. "Silence before the storm, as they all say." She waves her right hand, mockingly.
I found a smile on my lips at the nostalgic words as I glaze my eyes over the stars above us. Not knowing their names and yet it felt nice to watch them glisten above us. "I wonder what that storm will be." I question to myself.
She groaned, "One you're not going to like." She whispers, "But one that will be worth it all."
I look back down to her, to find just the last wisp of smoke hanging in the air and the cigarette on the floor. I stomp it out, I chew my lip to wonder what I had just seen. She was gone, like nothing was there to begin with. Where she once sat was left a green notebook and pen, a little note upon them with a badly doodle of a blue box. My full name was labelled atop of the green book, the note merely saying; 'For all the days that could've been.' Whatever that meant, I thought. The lady was encrypted in her words but knew this was a gift left for me. How she knew my name was beyond me, then again she may came across it in a newspaper quite easily. Shaking it off, I picked up the gift, tucked the message in the book and headed home, knowing that is enough for one night.
A blue box, an old police box sat between the ally way I had walk though minutes, hours earlier. How long had I been talking to her? I wonder. But I knew this hadn't and never been here before. I touch the wood, almost it felt like the one I felt outside my home but now, it was visible. Dark blue and almost hidden in the night beside the light, I felt a hum underneath my fingers and I jump back at the strange sensation.
I hear footsteps up at the pathway and sunk back closer to the box, something nagging at me at the familiarity of the situation. The box was iconic yet was place randomly, out of place. It felt old and new at the same time and my senses telling me to stop looking at it. A tall, bulk of a figure was walking down the pathway, illuminated by house lights. He was muttering under his tongue as his jacket sway with the motion, toward us. I breathe softly, as I felt my keys in my pocket and the little key ring was in my hand. It was a little Tardis, one in which you can use as a little torch with a press of a button. Something I have kept for years, even if I rarely watched the show as I got older. Only when the world got too much and I wanted to escape. Yet, since the last few months, I haven't even thought of it. Why is that?
The man leant his head against the door of the blue box, his mutterings getting louder as he complained to himself. "Stop it. Am I noticing? No. No, I am not. And what I am not doing is scanning for electrical fluctuations. Oh, shut up, you. I'm just dropping in on a friend. The last thing I need right now is a patina of teleport energy. I'm going. Do you hear me? Going. Not staying, going. I am through saving them. I am going away now." Seems like he hadn't notice me which I prefer, and I slowly sneak behind the box. I didn't want to be notice, nor could I believe this to be real. From the floppy hair and big nose, the bow tie and the long reddish brown jacket, I didn't want to believe.
Strange things happen all the time. I muse to myself. But I want nothing to do with it. I took my leave, as quiet as possible. Not noticing the eyes that watch as I disappeared into the night.
The morning came and so did little sleep, I got dress and ready for the new day and bag pack with basic needs and lunch. I eat some toast on the way to the bus stop; I always was an hour early to miss the kids. The Sanderson & Grainger front is where I arrive to and I found my way around the back to the staff entrance, smart casual being their uniform. Which I always preferred over wearing just black, I put my badge on that I got from my locker in the staff room and starting to brew my tea for the day. I need caffeine to function.
My boss came in, patting a man wearing suspenders and a bowtie. He was smiling goofily and looks over me. "Jay, you will be showing The Doctor the ropes; he will be joining you in the toy department today." My boss tells me.
I nod, "Okay, will do." He nods and leaves The Doctor with me.
He takes a seat, staring me up and down, as if trying to find answers and it unnerves me. I was looking at a fictional character that was very obviously real. I sigh, noticing I have enough for another cup of tea.
"Doctor, would you like a cup of tea?" I asked as I finish pouring milk in mine and stirring. He shook his head as in a 'no' as he look through the work manual.
"How long was I gone this time?" he asks, I turn to him confused.
"What are you talking about?" I took a sip of my tea, stopping the small shakes in my hands from stirring up. "You could never be gone, since this is my first time meeting you."
He quirks his eyebrows in confusion before jumping up, his hands on my arms as he stared me in the eyes. Shock written across his eyes as they hover to my hands. "You're, you're so young." He mutters, as if he can't believe what was before him. Like I was a ghost, he had long forgotten about.
The cup slips from my hands, shaking in fear. Tea droplets lay on our shoes, I wanted to say he was mad, that he was getting me for the wrong person. That time lords don't exist, police boxes don't time travel in time, they were stories. Stories I watched as a kid, like majority of British kids did. Yet his eyes, like nobody I have seen before, beside the lady I spoke to the night before, had eyes so old. Much older then the lady's the night before, hers was a little forest of moments whereas his was massive, bigger than a planet could ever contain yet they were there. Filled to the brim.
"I must be, compared to you." I spoke; those eyes of his didn't lie about his age. My voice choke and splutter but the words were spoken; some part of me wanting to believe maybe this was true. That this explains all the strange things that have had happen to me in the last few months.
He didn't say a word beside pull his hands away, taken the warmth away with him. For a second, I wanted to reach out and pull him back, to stop the sad eyes that stare at me. The knowing glances, the echoes of what I have been to him glistering in his action and I felt salt on my lips, I reach my hands to my cheek to find that I've been crying.
I pick up the cup, wash it up and wipe my face as he stood, watching but not knowing what to do. As if he scared he was going to make me run for the hills. I sigh, shook my head, flushing the emotions to the back of my mind, when I have time to cater to them. When there isn't a strange man before me, who have given me hundred answers and yet thousand more questions. "Let's get to work, huh? I can show you around before the shop opens." I told him. He stood stuck a little longer until the door open and I had to pull him through. "Come on Rookie! You got things to learn." I mock, I let go once he came following himself.
"Who you calling Rookie?" he twiddle his nose at the word, "I'll have you know I'm a natural."
"Whatever, Rookie!" I smirk at him, mocking him farther was rather fun.
We bicker back and throw, whatever transpires before had left our minds. Teaching the ropes wasn't too badly needed beside reminding him some manners and apologizing to customers when he did something strange or rude. He was bubbly and easily attracts the kids to his fun personality. I even found myself laughing for the first time in months. It felt so strange, to feel the bubbles popping in my stomach and the stinging pain of laughing too much. I found myself treasuring this morning, while it lasted. I didn't feel so alone. But like everyone, he'll be gone too.
My mood swung down as the day move on, quiet periods I found the Doctor looking around and reading the missing person article in the newspaper. He look up once and frown sadly, like he knew and I bet he did. My family disappeared months ago, no tracks and no word. Just gone. Even the police don't know where to begin for there isn't a clue. Eventually work colleagues and some friends, by the third month I stop talking to people unless they were only here for a small time. No reason to get attach these days because you're always saying goodbye.
The strangest thing is knowing someone before you and yet knowing nothing was hard to describe to feel and experience. I thought I knew the Doctor; yet being here on the slow path with him was different to anything I seen of the Doctor in my life. It was rare to see him like this in the show; they only show the crazy and funny moments, none of this. It was like learning something nobody will ever get to really witness and I find trying to tell myself not to think on it because nothing was ever as I thought it was.
I had my lunch just recently and came back out to find the Doctor demonstrating a helicopter to all the little ones, I couldn't help smile at the image before me. He had this glow when surround by children and it was adorable. "it goes down tiddly down for only forty nine ninety nine, which I personally think is a bit steep, but then again it's your parents' cash and they'll only waste it on boring stuff like lamps and vegetables. Yawn!" he acts his part, making them giggle.
A figure with a pram that looks to be on the phone, I recognise the face. Someone who moved in the neighbourhood a year or two ago, nice couple though like everything, their names leaves me. We only talk once or twice, I think? "Nobody panic, but I appear to be losing control." The Doctor announce, trying to stir the helicopter away from the pram. Why does this look similar? The helicopter crashed and the Doctor dashes down to the kids, quickly telling them "Oops. Guys, guys, ladies and gentlemen. While I deal with this awkward moment, you go and find your parents slash guardians. Try in lamps." He shoos them off to find their parents in which they smile and scatter of, he had good skills in getting kids to listen.
Then I remember, he had a family once. Very long time ago so of course he would know how to handle children. I shook the sad feeling off, as he bounce back up and wave at the man who just join us in the toy sector. "Craig!" he cheers at him, a little surprise to be caught. I did what I do in situation I rather get away from. Sneak the heck out of there, but a hand grasp the back of my sweater and pull me back. His eyes, telling me off for trying to run away and I cower like a little child who stole a cookie from the cookie jar.
"What the hell are you both doing here?" Craig asks us, annoyance and worry lance in his tone. His eyes quirks at me as I fiddle with my fingers feeling heavily out of place. I've worked here for five years; shouldn't he know that I work here already?
"I'm the Doctor. I work in a shop now. Here to help. Look, they gave me a badge with my name on in case I forget who I am. Very thoughtful, as that does happen." He shows off his badge to Craig, and then he turns his eyes to me for an answer.
"Oh, Hello, Craig, was it? I've been working here for the last five years. We've probably spoken before?" I squeak out, not liking the way he looks at me, like he knew me. Two people were very unnerving when I've never met and the other the most being a nod and polite greetings.
He shook his head, like my answer didn't matter, as it was always something he couldn't ever get a straight answer from. He pokes his finger back at the Doctor. "You were leaving. The Alignment of Exeter, what about that? One chance to see it, you said."
"Well, I was on my way, you know. Saw a shop, got a job. You got to live in the moment." He explained as he walks away, pulling me along as if he knew I would escape the moment he let go. Craig follows us as one of the robot dogs set off and doctor call "Craig, mind Yappy." The toy dog yapping as he said this.
"What?" Craig pushes the pram forward, stopping as the Doctor scoops up the toy in his own hands letting me go, I breathe out. Not use to being physical touches so much in the last twenty four hours. It was strange and something I didn't realise I got use too, not being touched.
He shows it off, pointing it off happily, like the little boy he can be. "Yappy. The robot dog. Not so much fun as I remember." He looks back at Craig, with a point of his finger. "You look awful." He states.
Craig huffs, rumble in his throat as he clutches his eyes. "I haven't slept, have I? I still can't stop him crying. I even tried singing to him last night." The pains of being a parent. I pull closer to the pram, as the two continue to talk. I knew now wasn't worth trying to escape, not with the Doctor grip back on my wrist and the other with Yappy in his hand.
"Yeah, he did mention that he thought you were crying, too. He didn't get a wink. Yappy, say goodbye to Craig and Stormageddon. Goodbye, Craig. Goodbye, Stormageddon." He says, twisting his face as he spoke before dragging me away, putting the toy back in place. Why me? Why me? We hear a whizzing sound, something squeaking across the floor in a flash. It was opposite of the lady of the day before, who vanished without a sound; this was more like a toy car whistling past as if racing something.
The doctor pulls me forward, as he crouches at the sudden noise. "What was that?" he asks with intrigue, feeling the bubbles of his slight excitement flutter through me. I pull my wrist back from him, choking on the feeling. He pouts for a second at the motion, sad for me to pull away and I feel my ears burn at the tips.
Craig not too far behind us interrupts my confusing thoughts on the manner of the alien before me. "You're here for a reason, aren't you? You noticed something, and you're investigating it. And because it's you two, it's going to be dangerous and alien." The Doctor pulls away as Craig rambles, looking around the room and the toys across the floor. Trying to find what had once been there.
We both gather back to our feet, as the Doctor turns to Craig. "It might not be."
"Doctor, I live here. I need to know."
"No, you don't."
"My baby lives here. My son." Craig begs, concerned.
The Doctor chews his lip as if questioning if he should before giving in, I found his hand on my wrist once more. "Sheila Clark went missing Tuesday. Atif Ghosh last seen Friday. Tom Luker last seen Sunday." He answers, quietly to not disturb other people.
Craig rushes to the buggy to get the something, the Doctor gaze continue to look around the room to find something to hint what's been going on. His eyes stop at me once more; I shuffle my eyes to the ground not use to the attention that isn't a customer or normal colleague. "Why's none of this on the front page?" He questions as he shows us the paper.
The attention was off me once more and I find myself eyeing the newspaper. A photograph of almost gothic lady on the cover and something about Britain got talent. "Oh, page one has an exclusive on Nina, a local girl who got kicked off Britain's Got Talent. These people are on pages seven, nineteen, twenty two. Because no one's noticed yet. They're far too excited about Nina's emotional journey, which in fairness is quite inspiring." The Doctor rambles, happily. Shuffling the pages to ones about the missing people, nothing new. People always turn a blind eye to these things.
He pulls me along once more as he pushes the buggy leaving Craig to scramble through the newspaper. Why is this so familiar? It's been years since I watch Doctor who seriously, so maybe it's from that? I kept my mouth shut, not knowing what this is got to do with me. I shouldn't even be part of this and here I am being tugged along by a man wearing granddad suspenders and a bowtie, it didn't look out of place, it is the 21st century and fashion is going retro. But the strangest parts were the hesitation, the wonder behind his eyes as he tries to read me in the quiet seconds and I wanted out.
It likes waking up, forgetting someone who meant everything to you and you to them. They know all these things but if they said anything, they may upset you, might hurt you. So where do you begin when one has all these ideals of you and the other is blank of them? So instead he clung, kept me close as the only answer and it bug the hell out of me. My flight signals crying to rip his hand of me and to run back to the staff room and pretend this is all fake, another half wanting to see if this is true. That this is the mad man in a box and there is more, so much more to the world then this.
"What else?" Craig asks, as we wonder into the children clothes department.
"These funny old power fluctuations which just happen to coincide with the disappearances."
"That's just the council putting in new cables, isn't it?" you knew he wishes that were true, because how couldn't he? I was the little frighten mouse, who rush to do her chores as quickly as possible so I could be the first out those doors. I lost colleagues who stay too late when closing, the ones who go missing. I cringe, guilt of not looking or checking. Of running away like the coward I was and not keeping them safe. I wasn't strong or smart or talent, I was Jay, just plain old Jay.
"I was scared." I mutter underneath my breath.
The Doctor quirks his eyebrows, stopping to turn to me. "Scared of what?"
"Of the unknown, those disappearances. They always happen to those who stay late." I state, looking around anywhere but at the Doctor. Watching people do the mundane as we spoke. "I always left first, made excuse, did my chores the quickest so I could leave before most of the others."
The Doctor hand squeezes my wrist softly, as if in comfort. "Scared is good." He murmurs to me, forcing me to move forward. Craig pats my shoulder, the last conversation gone for the time being until we arrive at the out of order elevator. He pulls his screwdriver out, "Here's the lift." Trying to lighten the mood as he brightens his voice.
"It's says it's out of order." He points out the obvious.
The Doctor pulls of the tape with one swoop. "Not anymore. See? Here to Help." He pushes the pram forward.
Craig pushes through to grip the handles of the pram, half way into the elevator. "It's says danger!"
"Oh, rubbish. Lifts aren't dangerous." He mutters.
"Do I look like I'm stupid?" he rhetorically asks.
Alfie babbles out loud, as if in response to his Dad. The Doctor half chuckles before giving him a pointed look, "Quiet, Stormy." He looks back at Craig who further stare at us both, in which I look back as blank face as I shrug my shoulders. The Doctor huffs slightly as he lets go of my wrist for a second to spin around. "Oh, all right. There's more" he gives in, dragging me with them, all crammed in a tiny lift. He uses his sonic screwdriver on the buttons to proceed to press said buttons. "Just between you, us and Stormy, don't want to frighten me punters. Someone's been using a teleport relay right here in this shop. Missing people last seen in this area. Before you ask, CCTV's been wiped."
He put his screwdriver back into his pocket and bringing up his pointing finger to Craig mouth in an 'ssh'ing motion. I was behind him in the cube box of an elevator, watching as his back rumbles as he talks. I knew he didn't want to face me, his face ragged and tired. His fatigue rolls of his body in pools but the mystery of what going on, keeps a bubble shifting around him.
"A teleport? A teleport?" Craig questions him. Putting back the newspaper away into the pram; once away, he starts to motioning upwards and down his sides and ceiling. "A teleport like, a beam me up teleport, like you see in Star Trek?"
"Exactly. Someone's been using a beam me up Star Trek teleport. Could be disguised as anything."
"But a teleport in a shop? That's ridiculous."
The ceiling lights flicker on and off, all of us look up in curiosity. "What was that? Was that the lights again?" Craig continues. Both I and the Doctor knowing we aren't in the lift no more choke in shock at the sudden change and the Cyberman in the further back.
"Yes, that's it. That's all. It's the lights." The Doctor strangles out, staring behind the Craig. I feel my finger intertwined with the Doctors. He squeezes in comfort, they were shockingly warm compare to my stone cold hand and I remind myself to breathe. To steady the shock that flooded my system.
"Why did you say that like that?" his eyebrows shifting on his face, trying to read the Doctor.
"Like what?"he squeaks out.
"Like that, in that high pitched voice."
"Just keep looking at me, Craig. Right at me. Just keep looking."
"Why?"
"Well, because, because," he tries to think before his eyes glance down at me once more then back to pulling Craig to keep facing him, my hand felt empty for the first time in my life. "Because I love you. Not as much as Jay, but I love you."
I squeak, warmth pooling at my cheeks. Not believing I heard that and I could see him smirking in the corner of my eyes. Was he trying to distract me too?
"You love me?" his voice filled with shock and disbelief. "What about Jay?"
"Yes, Craig. It's you." He answers, pulling me closer. "And it's always been you." My face burns and I use my hands to hide my face. Forgetting about the pending danger of the metal man, the tone of his words was so much deeper towards me then Craig. It ramble deep to his core as he says it, like it's one the last times he gets to tell me.
"Me as well?" he says looking between us.
"Is that so surprising?" he puts his arms around Craig with the sonic screwdriver between his fingers.
"Doctor, are you going to kiss me?"
"Yes, Craig. Yes, I am. Would you like that? Bit out of practice."He answers, "but I've had some wonderful feedback." He winks at me and I don't think I got anymore blood left in my legs. He then further continues to tries to fake kiss Craig, who giggles.
"Doctor, no. I can't. I'm taken. You're taken!" He leans back away from the Doctor before turning around. "Oh, my god!" he screams.
"Or we could just hold hands if it makes you'd feel more comfortable." He splutters out, trying anything to keep Craig calm. I reach for his shirt to grip between my fingers. The metal man turns to us, noticing us across the room.
Feet start to stomp towards us, us all panicking over the threatening creature. Fear seeping into me, as I remember the Cybermen, humans extracted from everything that made them beautiful squash in the metal body and I felt my fingers tighten harshly around the Doctors shirt. "What is happening?" Craig spits out.
"Well, first of all, I don't really love you, except as a friend." He tells him as the Cyberman walk closers in a speedy manner.
Craig turns further around, entangled in the Doctors arms. "What is that?" he cries out as the Doctor points his screwdriver and something explodes behind it sending us back to elevator. Their screams still ringing in my ear and the deep roots of fear muddling around my brain; I find myself sliding down on the floor. Trying to breathe and calm down the shaking rattling in my bones.
"Quick reverse." He softly replies.
"What the hell just happened?" Craig shouts at the Doctor, I find myself huddling closer to myself at the noise. Taking a big breathe at everything that just occurred before me, us. I look up the find the Doctors hand out to me on his toes to be on level with me, Craig still huffing in the corner.
His eyes a little spooks but he would never speak of it and I felt myself breathing normal at that honesty, that familiarity of another. We all had been freaked out by what just happened back there. The bell ding and I took his hand to take me out of this cursive elevator.
"They must have linked the teleport relay to the lift, but I've fused it. They can't use that again. Stuck up there on their spaceship." We continue walk forward, the Doctor walk being much bigger strides then mine making me tumble about behind him until I found my stepping, to see Craig almost caught up to us.
"What were those things?" Craig queries, as we walk into the soft furniture department. My legs still wobbly at the sights I have seen in the last twenty-four hours. One thing after another.
"Cybermen." I answer as the Doctor stops. "They're Cybermen."
"Ship. A spaceship. We were in space?" he continues on. I sigh; this is going to be a long afternoon. I want out and yet, this is beyond words.
That's chapter 1 done and gosh did it take hours, chapters may take ages to come along while I'm on my last few weeks of uni. This is a little fun project I'm doing in-between, so don't expect fast updates. Feedback and criticism I will rejoice in.
I originally was going to do the full episode, but I had extra plans for it and deicide it split it into two parts and see how people think of this story idea, if it worth keep doing? I have a track record of starting something and never going back but I really want to do and finish something and I adore Doctor Who, I find myself in the last few week watching Classic who.
plus, this is one of those 'jumping around his time line' story, so if you want certain episodes to appear, either modern and classic just ask and I'll see if I can entwin it. I want to be challenge in putting my character in episodes, especially those others avoid. I have some episode in mind already but I might shuffle them around depending on what gets requested, so input is beautiful.
welp, I'mma gonna stop now lol
thank you for reading and I hope to see you around future chapters, whenever they maybe.
p.s. if anyone wants to beta, I will be forever be grateful to you.