Author's Note: I had some fun with this chapter hehe. After the Revolution and Atlantis, Rey's finally found something she knows how to handle—old ruins. :P
Chapter 3
Rey glanced behind her, drawing her staff swiftly and silently from its holster. She peered through the fog, trying to see anything, any kind of silhouette—but there was nothing. Nothing but the odd skittering sound—she stood perfectly still for a moment, not daring to draw a breath. Perhaps whatever it was couldn't see her either, and would pass by her in the fog.
The noise stopped, and a heavy silence surrounded her.
She took a cautious step towards the cracked porch of the house in front of her. Still no movement. No sound. Both hands clasped firmly around the staff, she took another careful step, keeping her eyes fixed on the place where she had last heard the sound.
She stepped onto the porch. It creaked beneath her and she froze.
The skittering began again, and it seemed to be coming closer.
The cracks in the sidewalk wobbled.
And then she was running, her feet pounding across the creaking porch. She seized the doorknob and yanked the door open, nearly pulling it off its hinges as she flew inside. She pulled it closed behind her and leaned against it for a moment, breathing hard.
She could only hope whatever was following her couldn't open doors…
It was a silly hope, really. She should probably get as far away from the door as possible. And find someplace to hide, someplace where she could observe and not be seen.
She took a deep breath and stepped away from the door, looking around, taking in her surroundings. She seemed to be standing in some kind of entryway which led into a few different rooms. It was carpeted, but the carpet was worn away in places, giving it an eerie decayed appearance. A doorframe stood half-collapsed in front of her, and she could see glimpses of another room through it.
She took a few tentative steps forward, testing the floor beneath her. Ruins like these were prone to collapse in strange places, and she didn't know a thing about the buildings in this place. For all she knew, they could be rigged with trapdoors or other strange contraptions.
Well, so far it seemed fine.
The door thumped behind her.
She darted to the doorway and ducked behind the broken door, peering out into the entryway through the cracks in the wood.
Nothing.
Not yet, anyway.
She turned away from the door and took stock of the room. Pieces of decaying furniture surrounded her, their covers moth-eaten and rotting away in places, filling spilling out, giving them a strange, almost grisly appearance. The dust was so thick beneath her feet that she left footprints as she walked.
"Hello?" Her voice was almost a whisper, and yet it echoed, strangely muffled by the dust. "Anyone here?"
The echoes faded away into silence and she let out a sigh. Good. She was alone here.
She'd like to keep it that way.
Keeping her staff at her side, she scanned the room again. Except for the rather awkward endeavor of climbing under one of the decaying pieces of furniture, there were no good hiding places. The only way out was the half-broken door through which she had entered. From there, she could either go back to the entryway or follow a hallway which led to another door. She took a deep breath and started forward, treading softly lest the floor let out another loud creak.
Her foot hit something and sent it skittering across the floor, sending dust flying in all directions. She froze, listening for a long moment, and then leaned down carefully to see what age-old item she had disturbed.
It was a screwdriver.
Not a sonic screwdriver. Just—a screwdriver.
With a shrug, she picked it up and slipped it into her pocket. Well, it might come in handy later. Easing the door open, she stepped into the hallway, one eye on the front door. Something poked its way through the rotting wood—a drill.
She ducked into the hallway, her ears trained on the door and on every step she took. She came to a stop in front of the door at the end and eased it open—and stood looking up a small, broken ladder that led up into some sort of loft.
Perfect.
She was up it in a moment, skipping broken rungs and testing each step carefully before she put her weight on it. She ducked into the attic and edged behind the doorframe, peering down into the little room at the base of the ladder.
She could still hear the door clattering.
Well, she could hide here. At least for a bit. Long enough to get a glimpse at what she was going to have to face.
She eased the attic door closed, though it didn't do much good, as the latch wouldn't catch and it tended to drift back open. Keeping her staff in one hand, she took a moment to look around. It seemed to have been a bedroom of some sort, though there were a surprising amount of beds for the small space. Perhaps some sort of makeshift hospital ward, once? The entire room was draped in an odd half-light, and a ray of sunlight lanced through the single, tiny window, catching the dust disturbed by her footsteps and making it glow like fairy-lights.
Every tiny noise she made echoed a bit in the small room.
She poked the nearest bed with the tip of her staff, and a bit of stuffing poofed out, rotting and moth-eaten. She made a face and stuffed it back in—
A sound at the door made her whirl, her staff at the ready. The door to the lower room creaked open, and—
She nearly sent her staff clattering to the floor below.
"BB8?"
The little droid looked up at her, letting out a sad beep and then looking at the ladder.
"BB8—was that—you?" She felt herself smiling, just a little. "Oh, please tell me I didn't spend the last ten minutes running away from a droid."
The little droid moved its head up and down, letting out another sad beep.
She sighed, gathering up her staff again. "Alright—I'm coming down. You're the only one here, right? Nothing's following you?"
It swiveled its head around the room and then returned its single-eye gaze to her, shaking its head with a little confused beep.
She laughed. "Alright—so I just spent the last ten minutes running from a droid." Making her way carefully down the ladder, she gave the droid a pat on the head. "BB8—I'm glad you're here. Come on, let's get out of this place, it's going to fall to bits any minute."
The little droid followed her out of the room, down the hallway, and back into the entryway, skittering across the floor behind her. She should have known, really—she had heard BB8 following her around enough times to recognize the sound of his rolling along nearly any surface.
She was just—jumpy.
That was all.
She pushed the front door open and stepped out on the porch, blinking in the—sunlight? She stopped, staring wide-eyed at the sight in front of her.
The fog had cleared, and the early-evening sunlight sparkled off of the grass, the path, the ruins of a few other homes, all wet with droplets that had been mist. The entire town seemed to be covered in a thousand fairy-lights, like little stars among the ruins. Shards of broken glass that clung to windows sparkled orange, and the walls of the buildings glowed in the sunset.
She blinked.
The entire place seemed wobbly.
Just looking at it made her feel dizzy, like something was wrong with her head. She blinked again, and rubbed her eyes, but it didn't clear. The houses seemed to wobble, somehow, as if she were seeing them through some sort of veil. She had the sudden and strangely distinct feeling that she was looking into the past.
And then it was gone, and the ruin was just a ruin again.
She stepped carefully off of the porch and started down the path again, back towards where she had come from. She just wanted out of this place, this place that seemed to be caught in some kind of strange bubble.
"Come on, BB8," she muttered, her steps speeding up as she followed the path. "We've got to get out of here. Have you…." Her voice trailed off and she turned back to the droid, suddenly pensive. "Have you seen the Doctor? Or were you dropped here by yourself too?"
The little droid shook its head sadly, coming to a stop and staring at the path. Its antennae drooped a bit.
She sighed. "Alright," she said, trying to sound more confident than she felt. "So we—we just have to look, then. If you're here, and I'm here, then surely….." Her voice trailed off. She wasn't worried. She wasn't. He was the Doctor. He would be okay. "Well, come on." Clutching her staff in her hands, she started forward, the little droid following a little sadly.
It had been a small town of sorts, that much was clear. Something had caused the inhabitants to abandon it rather suddenly—the houses sat in various stages of disarray, and the evening sun illuminated a hastily dropped tool here and some kind of old vehicle there. She passed by another house, its roof torn off and its doorframe missing—but when she looked closer, it didn't seem as if it was torn off. Simply—disappeared.
She shivered and walked faster.
And then the world was spinning again, tumbling around her and sending her stumbling backwards, clutching for her staff and throwing her arms around BB8, suddenly and inexplicably afraid of losing the little droid.
The closest thing she had to familiarity here.
And then she was sitting on the path, one arm around the droid, the spinning in her head receding. She got carefully to her feet and looked around.
The fog seemed to have drifted back again, and it seemed darker, somehow—as if the sunset had passed its golden hour and the sun had finally dipped below the horizon. But no—that couldn't be. It must be the fog—
Staring hard at the path at her feet, she started forward again. It had to lead somewhere. It had to lead out.
A dim outline loomed up in the fog before her and she came to a stop in front of it, her hands finding metal bars. She looked up to see a fence jutting up into the darkened sky, old and rusted. It stretched away as far as she could see in either direction until it faded into the mist.
She just leaned against the bars for a moment, closing her eyes.
She was fenced in.
"Doctor?"
The soft word echoed for a moment before fading away, and everything fell silent again—a soft, pillow-like silence couched in fog.
She sighed.
He could be anywhere in this strange little town—or outside of it. Outside of this fence that loomed up before her like a sentinel in the night. Or maybe—
A smear of fog drifted away and she stiffened, staring wide-eyed. "BB8." Her voice was soft, urgent. "BB8—look. Look—"
And then she was running. Running along the fence towards the box-shaped silhouette that, a moment before, had been hidden by the mist and the darkness. She skidded to a stop in front of the large blue box, setting her hand on the side.
Oh thank goodness. Thank goodness.
She had found him.
Pulling the key from her pocket, she circled around to the front and opened the door, letting herself inside. The familiar lighting filled the console room, and she let out a little sigh.
It felt like—home.
She let BB8 follow her inside and closed the door behind her, circling the console. Everything seemed to be waiting—lights blinked on and off, the viewscreen looked as if it had gone into some sort of sleep mode, and one lever was half-pushed-forward.
So the Doctor hadn't been gone long, then. Maybe that meant—maybe that meant he'd be back soon.
"Can you tell me where the Doctor went?" Her words seemed small in the echoing interior, and soon they faded away into silence. "I'm talking to a ship," she muttered, leaning against the console with a sigh and crossing her arms.
A sound in the doorway made her whirl, her hand flying to her staff. The door opened, and a stranger stepped inside.
He wore a black leather jacket and his hair was close-cropped. His gaze was hard as he stared at her.
"Who are you?" she cried, moving her staff to attack position. "And how did you get in the TARDIS?"
He leaned against the doorway, crossing his arms. "I'm the Doctor," he said. "And I could ask the same of you."