.
Love, Laugh, Die
Author's Note: I must apologise YET AGAIN for taking so long with this update – university is a lot of work! I have lots of assignments and midterms and it won't be long before finals hit. Luckily after that I have Christmas break, and while I do have one essay to write over the holidays I hope to get two chapters done, or at least post one and write most of the other so it won't be too long before it's up. Thank you everyone for your patience and hopefully you lot haven't given up on me just yet!
Chapter 6
…
"Another tequila?" The bartender shrugged. "Your liver, mate."
In reply, Stephen hummed contemplatively and reached for the bowl of salted peanuts while the bartender prepared him the eighth tequila of the night. This was what his life had been for the past days.
"Another."
"Mister – " the bartender said warily.
"Please. One more."
The bartender shook his head, casting Stephen a look as he went to pour another drink. Then he returned to the bar counter. "Sorry, mate. We're all out. I could head down to Deck M if you want, but I'll be a few minutes."
"Hmm. Sure."
Stephen picked up a cocktail stick from the small cup on the counter, twirling it absently between his fingers as the bartender went out. He wondered, idly, what would happen upon his return to Earth. Probably very little, he thought bitterly. Though he reckoned his father would be pleased. Whenever he'd spoken of his mother, Stephen's grandmother, he'd comment on how amazing it was she'd kept herself in such good shape at her age. "I mean, you'd think – " Stephen's father's voice rang in the back of his mind – "that she'd at least be sick by now, wouldn't you? At her age they haven't usually got many years left. Poor things."
He never had gotten on with his parents, and he supposed his father hadn't gotten on with his own either. Not his mother at any rate. Which was, naturally, the very reason Stephen and his grandmother had been so very close.
She'd been plain and uninspired, and took pleasure in nothing more or less than soap dramas and the occasional airport novel. She'd had nearly a million pounds to her name and yet, to the profound puzzlement of her parents, hardly ever spent it. She had cooked for him often as a child, and cooked well, but this had been out of necessity and not so much for the joy of cooking. Out of necessity and out of love. For she'd been a warm woman, his grandmother had, and Stephen had felt closer to her than anyone in his life.
And sometimes, on the rare magical occasion, she would tell him stories about the stars.
Maybe she'd been reminiscing of the days she'd been a girl.
She'd come down with a bout of pneumonia the previous winter, which had been more than enough to cause Stephen a great deal of worry, even after she'd recovered. Using the money he'd saved up for his full four years of study Cambridge, which had sat unspent in his bank account ever since he'd dropped out after first year, he'd purchased himself and Gran tickets on the SS Bad Wolf.
And then she'd…
Ninety. That had been her age.
His father would be pleased, yes.
Jesus. How long did it take to bring up the ingredients for a nice tequila?
From the hallway, movement. Oh, bloody finally.
But after another several agonising minutes dragged by and nobody entered the bar, Stephen stood up, irritated. He could see that somebody was there – part of a clearly human shadow was cast against the doorway – but the person made no move to enter.
It was four in the bloody morning; Stephen doubted anyone was going to be up for a pint, so he got to his feet and poked his head out the door.
She had his back to him, but somehow he could sense her smiling. "I'm here," she said. "I've something to show you. This way… "
Her words washed over Stephen, gentle and loving. He felt warmed, his mind was cradled. He was a boy just fallen off his bike, and she was the sweet brush of lips against his scraped and bloodied knee.
"This way… "
He was confused, but somehow all felt right. All felt well and right in the world.
She began to walk, and he followed her. He followed her down to the engine room.
The stars were outside, so very close. If you reached, you could probably touch them, capture them, grasp them between your fingers. There, they would tremble and flicker. You could grasp them between your fingers. You could crush them to dust, if you wanted.
The stars were close.
…
"So you're on a luxury cruise ship driftin' across the Milky Way galaxy, beautiful views on all sides, and your first instinct is to go for a swim."
"You didn't have nothin' to say the last time I went," Rose complained. They were on the TARDIS again. The Doctor had his back to her, fiddling with his little energy-signature reading device, sonicking it from various angles as coils of tangled wire wrapped around it, hooked up to the console.
"Yeah, but that was while you were digging. This is your time for a wee break, seein' as nothing's comin' up at the moment and you won't be able to help me repair this old thing. Just thought you might want to sit in the viewing gallery for a bit and admire the local sights, y'know?"
"Well, yeah. But I'm with you. I can get stars any old time." Rose leaned forward in the jump chair. "I was hopin' to go to a planet again next. Those are always my favourites."
"You can go for a swim any old time too. May I remind you the TARDIS has its own larger-than-Olympic-sized swimming pool?"
"Yeah, but the one on the TARDIS ain't got a three levels of diving boards."
"'Course it does!" he sounded affronted. "She just needs to know 's what you want!"
Rose shrugged, tucking her legs in underneath her. "Okay. But there's no company on the TARDIS. You never wanna come swimming with me."
"That's because I don't… "
"Don't be stupid; I know you know how."
" – do that sort of thing for pleasure."
"Aw, c'mon." Rose grinned at him devilishly, tongue slipping out between her teeth as she waggled her eyebrows. "You're comin' in with me next time. Bet you look proper nice in swimming trunks."
The Doctor didn't answer, and she smirked, leaning back with her arms crossed over her chest. She opened her mouth to utter a smooth comeback when suddenly his face split into one of his token manic grins and he spun around. "Oi! Look at this; I fixed it!"
Rose's eyed widened as she shot to her feet. "Hang on; seriously?"
"Probably!" He untangled the coils of wire from the device, tossing them aside as he held the strange thing in front of him with both hands. His eyes shone with excitement. "Blimey. I never reckoned I'd get it done so soon."
She took the reader from him and turned it around in her arms. "Well, I'll leave it up to you to operate it. But forget swimming, let's see what you can do!"
"Now we're talking."
He gave the TARDIS' doorway a fond stroke as they exited it, and made their way through the car park into the main ship. They chatted idly as they made their way up the stairs to Deck M for lunch, when suddenly the Doctor stopped dead.
"Something's wrong."
Rose frowned at him. "What?"
He shook his head, tapping the energy reader. "Not sure. But… " They had reached the Deck M landing. Upon pushing the doors open, what was wrong became very apparent.
A large crowd had gathered. It remained dead-still, seemingly in shock. There was not even a whisper. Rose and the Doctor couldn't see much from where they stood, just an arm, splayed out across the floor. Another body.
The Doctor began to push forward, but gently. The crowd shuffled silently out of his way. When he had a clear view, he stopped dead, breath catching in his chest. There were three people in the centre of the crowd. Two of them were dead.
The Doctor recognised one of the figures – it was the little girl who had pulled Josh off to take her to the loo the other day. Maryann, he remembered. Josh had called her Maryann. When still, without the aura of life surrounding her, she seemed smaller than ever. Her eyes were shut and her lips were just slightly parted. Mockingly, she could have been sleeping. The child's body was cradled in Josh's arms, being rocked back and forth. Just behind them stood a woman softly sobbing who must have been his wife.
Josh had his nose buried in his daughter's long, dark hair. Rhythmically, he rocked her. Back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. He did not howl with grief. He did not make a sound. His eyes were open and dry. There was a dull, numb look in their depths. It cast a similar shadow over the features of his face. He was not dead, but he almost looked it. It was an expression the Doctor had caught on his own face sometimes.
A hand on his shoulder. Rose had joined him. She said nothing, but her face went pale as her gaze fell on the child's body. Then her eyes passed over to the other body; a young man that the Doctor's gaze had skirted over. Rose's hand on his shoulder tightened.
"Doctor. Doctor, isn't that… "
He recognised the young man then. It was Stephen Griffiths, the grandson of the old woman whose body had been found a few days ago. His eyes, unlike the little girl's, remained open and empty.
The Doctor hated it when people died with their eyes open.
He nodded once in response to Rose's question.
A maintenance manager arrived, accompanied by a man in a professional-looking outfit the Doctor could only assume was one of the board's supervisors. They exchanged a look, the two men, but made no move to act. Like the other passengers, they just stood there and stared.
Funny what sights could spawn such a togetherness as this.
When he looked at Rose again, her eyes were trained on Josh, holding his daughter's body. She frowned, and briefly her gaze flicked up to the Doctor. "He deserves some privacy," she said softly.
The Doctor nodded once, then, without another word, he turned to go. Rose followed him. When they reached the doors to the stairwell, the other passengers began to shuffle out as well.
In the end, it was just Josh and his wife and their dead daughter, alone in the passageway. Stephen's body lay a ways off to the side, still and with no-one to claim it.
…
The Doctor was sitting cross-legged on the floor of his cabin, energy reader in his hands. Rose was lying on her stomach on his bed, watching him.
Neither had said much for the past two hours.
It was Rose who broke the silence. "So, how do we use that thing?"
He turned to look at her, craning his neck up. "'s complicated."
She rolled her eyes. "Thanks."
"Oi," the Doctor suddenly said, "did I mention we have a definite energy source now?"
Her head snapped up. "Hey?"
"Energy source. Got the signals working, they've picked up on where the energy signatures are emitting strongest. 'S the engine room."
"Oh! Oh! Well, someone was right 'bout that then, then, weren't they?"
He ignored this. "And, y'know, if there was ever any doubt, we know for sure our little alien friends are a psychic race."
"Seriously?" Rose joined him on the floor, studying the device. "Uh. How can you tell?"
He tossed it in the air and caught it neatly. "Sorry, didn't I mention? Device is only really useful to other psychics. Namely Time Lords."
"Oh."
"And… " his brow furrowed, and he trailed off.
"Yeah?"
"Nothin'," he muttered, shaking his head. "Right. What do you reckon we head off and find Maria?"
She nodded. "Good idea, probably. D'you reckon she's got anything?"
"Could be. Or not."
She shot him a look. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Means let's go find out." He stood, grabbing Rose's hand and pulling her to her feet. Rose smiled widely in reply, and off they headed.
They were in the middle of debating where they were most likely to find the laundry-maid, and whether or not they should split up to locate her sooner, when suddenly Rose pointed to one of the on-deck call stations. The Doctor did not seem the least bit embarrassed by not having noticed or thought of this himself; he strode over to the button and slammed one finger down on it efficiently.
Maria hurried onto the scene a couple of minutes later, bearing a large laundry basket. When she saw that the passageway's only occupants were Rose and the Doctor, she gave a relieved little smile; her shoulders seemed to relax and she set the laundry basket down. "I was hoping I'd run into you both," she said. It was then Rose noted the look in her eyes – desperation, and fear, but also – a flicker of excitement. The same kind of excitement she had seen many times in the Doctor's steely blue eyes, the kind of excitement she knew shone in her own. Sometimes, she saw it there, catching her reflection in a mirror or a bit of broken glass.
The Doctor raised an eyebrow at her, and Maria nodded almost wildly. He paused, contemplating her, then jerked his head in the direction of the deck's viewing gallery. "Should have some privacy in there today. Quiet. Sound doesn't reach the rooms."
The laundry-maid nodded once, and following the Doctor's lead, she went into the viewing gallery, Rose just behind. When the doors slid shut behind them, Maria's face glazed over in a dreamier expression as she caught sight of the stars. She stared at them for a very long time before breaking out of her trance. "All right. Er, the staff and crew are… panicking."
Rose settled onto one of the armchairs, crossing her legs. Maria sat across from her and the Doctor leaned against an armrest. "Because of the dead kid?" he asked. His tone was grave.
Maria shook her head. "No… it's upsetting, but, it's not the most worrisome matter at the moment. First off, did I mention the other bodies haven't decayed? It's been days now. The old woman, Mrs Griffiths, died over a week ago. And second of all – " she swallowed – "more and more servers have gone offline."
The Doctor crossed his arms, leaning forward. Rose wrinkled her brow. "Offline? How d'you mean, offline? Like the PA system, you mean? Which servers?"
"Well. The ones that control the ship. Meaning, the Captain can no longer – " she swallowed again, shuffling in her seat – "the Captain can no longer steer the ship. It doesn't respond to his commands."
"You mean we're gonna crash?"
"No, Miss – Rose, I mean, sorry. Force of habit… it's more like the ship has gotten a mind of its own."
Silence fell, soon it had wrapped itself tightly around the room. You could hear a pin drop. At last, the Doctor said in a low voice that pierced the quiet, "When did you notice?"
"This morning. A little before the bodies turned up."
"Any idea where it's headed now? Veering off in another direction?"
Maria shook her head. "It's still following the same course it was meant to – slowly veering back around to Earth. The ship travels in a slow ellipse." She drew a lopsided ovular shape in the air with her finger.
He nodded, then pushed off from the armrest, arms crossed. He began to pace the room. "The man who died today, or whose body turned up, actually. He was the grandson of the first woman who died. Reckon it means anything?"
Maria lifted a shoulder. She looked sheepish. "I don't know."
He spun on his heel, now facing the stars. He spoke with his back to them, a solemn silhouette made up of harsh, dark edges. "You got a log of passenger information?"
Maria nodded. "Passengers had to fill out information forms with purchase, and when they boarded, too. You know, for people who bought their friends or children or parents gifts or something. They aren't overly detailed, though. Marital status, career, family members, living situation, hometown… that's about it."
"I'll be needin' those."
Maria nodded. She bit her lip and shuffled. "Doctor, what about the ship? We don't know if it will even come back to Earth now – the crew are panicking. The Emergency Aid signals have gone offline, too. We can't beam out for help, we're alone. The controls are useless. We can't even find the source of the problem."
"I'll have to go over the blueprints of the ship again."
She gaped at him. "You've got blueprints of the ship? From where?"
"Accessed 'em from my ship."
"Your… ship?"
"Well, yeah, we parked it in the vehicle lot. Landed and then came over onto the passenger area."
Maria stared, and Rose grinned at her. "Don't worry, we didn't crash and blast a hole in the ship or anythin'. Ours can just kinda – materialise. And it ain't exactly – well it's sort of small. Dependin' on how you look at it." When Maria's confusion showed no signs of vanishing, Rose laughed softly. "Probably easier if we just … show you." She looked up at the Doctor questioningly.
The Time Lord gave an indifferent shrug, finally turning from the stars. "Bit overwhelming, mind."
Maria smiled. "I like overwhelming."
…
Maria had not taken the TARDIS as well as she had the information regarding the Doctor. She'd stumbled backwards out the doors with her mouth wide open and her eyes wider, tripping over the long skirt of her maid's garb. She'd sat there on the ground, staring in awe, then gotten to her feet and run around the TARDIS' outside shell as Rose had done, so long ago, before stumbling into the ship and dropping onto the jump chair, breathing hard.
All this had happened twelve minutes ago. It had taken her five minutes and forty-five seconds to recover. The past three minutes had been spent admiring the TARDIS, who had taken to her very well. The Doctor took this as a good sign; the old girl hadn't been over fond of Adam. Over the course of the remaining minutes, the Doctor had brought up and printed out a new, especially large blueprint of the SS Bad Wolf.
Now, the Doctor spread the blueprint out across a workbench pulled out from under the console and tapped the screwdriver against one of the ship's lower decks. "This," he said. "This is where the energy signatures are emitting strongest, yeah? The waves are branching off into the upper decks of the ship, ones occupied by passengers mostly. God knows whatever these creatures are doing to the people, but 's clear they're interested in the people more'n anything."
"Interested in the people except for the fact they've taken over the ship," Rose replied.
The Doctor tapped one of the residential decks on the blueprint with the screwdriver. "Why not do that right off, then?"
"Get everyone scared?"
He shook his head. "Could be. Reckon there's more to it than that, though." He grabbed a piece of paper and a pen, and clearly wrote a character in his own language. "This is the Gallifreyan character for curiosity, or interest. Just general curiosity, as its own entity; words for curious as an adjective and curiosity in something are a bit different. And this – " he drew another character now, on the bottom half of the paper – "is the Gallifreyan word for person."
The two characters were remarkably similar, as far as Rose could tell. They were also interlocked, intricate rings and circles sharing space.
"They're nearly the same," Maria said with interest. "Like they co-exist."
He nodded, pointing the sonic screwdriver in her direction. "To my people, they d – they did. If you don't care about the human aspect – or personal aspect – you can't really care about anythin'. If it's personal, it piques your interest. It gives you a drive to learn, and discover.
"Maybe they needed something from the people here, needed to know something about them, before they could take over the ship. The takeover's been slow. I mean, it could be they're trying to do it slowly so the crew wouldn't notice, but…. " The Doctor traced out the outline of the Gallifreyan character with the end of his screwdriver. "There wouldn't be much point. Crew tends to notice when they lose total control of the ship. Got to be more to it than that. This is a highly psychic race we're talking about here. Those tend to be advanced."
Maria had taken the paper on which the Doctor had written, studying it intently. "This is the language your – people write in? It's beautiful."
"I guess it was," he said shortly, taking the paper back. "You take it for granted if you're used to it, though. But… yeah. It was."
Maria frowned momentarily but said nothing, now turning her attention to the blueprint. "So this creature, or creatures, they've been forcing people to go down to the engine room with 'em?"
The Doctor had his eyes fixed on his energy device. "Could be." Then, in a lower voice, "or lured them."
"Pardon?"
"Lured them. As in – "
"'Come into my parlour,' said the spider to the fly," Maria murmured.
The Doctor's head snapped up. "From the poem. Very good."
"Makes you wonder what they do to lure people," said Rose contemplatively.
The Doctor nodded, then turned his attention back to the blueprint, beckoning the women to gather closer around him. "Look here." With his pen he drew a circle around the engine decks. "Sounds like they've established their base down there. It's logical, clever. People don't wander down to the central engine room unless absolutely necessary. Not even maintenance managers. Most problems they can fix just at the deck level without having to enter the main room. It's automated, see?" He now traced a line from the engine room up to the Captain's cabin. Then his brow creased as he leaned into the blueprint. "Hold on. What's this?"
He was pointing to some lines on the blueprint that appeared between the crew's quarters and the hull of the ship.
"That's where the Captain's cabin is attached," explained Maria.
He frowned. "Attached?"
"Oh, yes – don't you see?" She pointed. "It was added on. This isn't the Bad Wolf's first voyage; she's done a couple of trips before. When they made the ship available to third-class passengers they needed to add third-class cabins. So they converted the crew's residence on Deck D, created a wireless signal between the engine room and the Captain's cabin, and then extended Deck E to add more third-class cabins, like so. It's what gives the ship its unusual shape." She tapped on Deck E. On closer inspection, the Doctor and Rose saw that the deck did, indeed, have an entire portion that had been added on separately. "It's detachable, too."
The Doctor spun on her. "Hold on, detachable?"
"Oh, yes," Maria nodded vigorously. "Same as the parking lot." She pointed to the car park – or vehicle park, Rose supposed –where the TARDIS was located. "The Bad Wolf has an entire added lot. The idea was that in the case of an emergency, say, a miscalculation in how much fuel would be needed, we'd simply be able to get rid of the add-ons so the ship could carry itself to the nearest station to refuel without the extra bulk and then go safely back to Earth. All very unlikely, of course… The crew's quarters are added on nice and secure, though."
"You mean just obliterate and kill a load of passengers?" The Doctor sounded angry, now. Things did not go well when the Doctor was angry.
"No, of course not. They'd evacuate first." Maria seemed mortified.
His shoulders relaxed, but only slightly. He turned his attention back to the blueprint. "Look. It's upsetting. Anyway. The energy signatures can travel up and reach any of the decks. They've been takin' over the ship bit by bit and now they have full control. You said the ship hasn't veered off course?"
Maria, who still looked a little frightened, shook her head. The Doctor grunted. "Well, let's go. Some stuff we should do too. I want to run a scan on Deck E."
He had been leaning against the workbench, now he pushed off of it so violently the workbench slid back under the console and the blueprint fluttered to the ground. One end of the paper became trapped between the console and the workbench, leaving it to hang limply. He stalked down the ramp and pushed open the TARDIS doors. "Let's go."
"Doctor!" Rose cast Maria an apologetic look. She ran to catch up to him, grabbing his elbow. "What's up?"
He glowered. "Oh, nothin' much. Aside from the fact a near deck of innocent passengers is at risk. And the rest of the ship, mind, crew and all. We're in over our heads."
"But Doctor, you don't know what those alien things are, do you?"
He shook his head. "'s too early to say. Where's Maria? I want to pay a visit to the engine room, by the way."
"Wait, what?"
He ignored her. Maria emerged from the TARDIS, looking wary. The Doctor nodded to her, then spun on his heel and began to walk briskly away. The laundry-maid shut the doors and looked after him meekly.
"He's in a mood," Rose explained.
"No, he's right," Maria insisted. "None of use like the idea of having detachable portions of the ship, either. Passengers on Deck E are at the highest risk in case of emergency. He's right to be angry. And you shouldn't apologise for him, either," she added.
Rose shrugged. "Believe me, I don't usually."
"But – " Maria's eyes widened – "is this your life, then, Rose? Running about and stopping aliens and saving people?"
"Yeah," Rose grinned. "Yeah, pretty much."
"It must be wonderful."
"Oh, it is, God, it is." Rose leaned against one of the vehicles and tossed her head back. "'s the most wonderful thing in the world." She paused. "You should come with us, Maria."
"Me?"
"Yeah." Rose nodded earnestly. "It'll be brilliant. You'd love it. Besides. Three's company."
"I believe it goes, two is company. Three is a crowd," Maria frowned.
"Rule One of life with the Doctor: change the rules," Rose winked. "Actually, that's Rule Seven, but… you get my point."
Maria was smiling broadly. "What is Rule One, then?"
Rose waggled her eyebrows. "Come with us 'n' find out."
"Oi!" the Doctor, who had stalked off, suddenly emerged again. "Haven't got all day. We've got a deck to inspect and an engine room to investigate." Rose and Maria exchanged a look, burst out laughing, then hurried after him.
"Do you seriously want to investigate the engine room?" Rose pressed.
A curt nod. "Important."
"It might be dangerous!" He raised his eyebrows at her, and Rose gave him a look. "You know what I meant. Not 'til we know more about whatever's down there."
He shrugged. "We'll see." He turned on his heel then, and stalked out of the room. After a moment, they heard his call, harsh Northern tones echoing off the walls. "You comin', or are you just gonna stand there waiting me to do dangerous business on my own?"
Rose rolled her eyes as Maria smirked, and the two began to follow the Doctor in the direction of Deck E. "Sorry. Did I mention he's also stupid?"
…
They lingered behind the Doctor as he operated his ridiculous machine. They had been standing there for a solid twenty minutes, by the clock. Maria was technically on duty, but no-one seemed especially disposed towards bothering the maids.
"Is something meant to happen?" Maria frowned.
Rose shrugged.
"I'm finding nothin' yet," the Doctor called over his shoulder. "Might help a tick if I could get some quiet, though."
A great groaning sound, of the sort old houses make when unobserved, but this one was high and filled with the screeching tones of metal. Three heads craned upwards simultaneously. "What was that?"
The sound came again, and Rose ran a hand along the wall of the passageway. Light vibrations. It sounded as if the very bowels of the ship were coming alive to let loose all their ghosts.
"I'm sure it's nothing," Maria murmured.
"'s what people usually say before the asteroid hits." The Doctor's voice was low.
"Is that a metaphor?"
"Sometimes."
Again – a high, drawn-out groan.
Several passengers started to poke their heads from their cabin doors, looking around. The Doctor began to walk backwards towards the women. His face went very pale. Rose poked him. "Doctor?" she whispered.
A beat. Then, he waved an arm. "All right, evacuation, everyone! Follow me!"
People exchanged frightened, confused looks.
"Just come on with me," the Doctor called out. "The ship's at a bit of a risk, this is just standard procedure. Head on up to Decks M and N." Though he wore no uniform, the passengers listened to him. They began to hurry from their cabins. Mothers and fathers scooped up the occasional confused child and couples clasped each other's hands.
At that same moment, Alfie the maintenance manager burst in, shouldering past the throng of frightened passengers and rooting himself in the middle of the passageway. "You again! What's goin' on? I was gonna call an evacuation. We're facin' an emergency situation – "
"Beat you to it, mate." The Doctor clapped him on the shoulder.
Alfie looked instantly suspicious. "You knew… "
"There's a risk this section of the ship's about to be destroyed," the Doctor said in a light tone. "Now this is lovely and all, but care to have this little chat somewhere else?"
The maintenance manager looked flustered but he nodded. The deck was mostly cleared out. Alfie turned on his heel and stumbled upstairs. The Doctor and Rose followed.
The passengers were herded to the dining hall of Deck M. Most of the other passengers were being shepherded into the upper decks, too, distributed more or less evenly in the rooms. Once the vast majority of passengers had gathered in the room, Alfie ambled purposefully over to the Doctor.
"The hell is this about then, mate?"
"The reason I detected the risk," said the Doctor impatiently, "is that, if you recall, I'm an employee of one of the local space stations. I've got some equipment. Now, if you'll excuse me." He turned on his heel and stalked off into the pub, dropping into a chair.
Rose hurried to meet up with him. "He's just scared," she chided him.
"Yeah? Well, I haven't got the patience for scared people right now."
The ship groaned again. The screech of metal on metal. The passengers cried out, clinging to each other. The Captain stood up on a table and began to explain the situation, how the crew were doing "all they could." The Doctor and Rose didn't listen.
"Is everything going to be all right?" Maria asked weakly.
"'course it will," Rose assured her. "The Doctor will fix it, he always does."
"We don't know that," the Doctor spoke up. "Does yesterday's chat ring a bell? Our travels could go wrong at any point."
The screeching became more prominent, intermingling now with dull clunks.
Rose shot him a look, but Maria seemed neither especially cheered or disturbed by this.
Turbulence began to rock the ship. Glasses and plates piled up by the door fell to the floor with a mighty crash, their shards scattering across the floor. Alfie tumbled backwards off the table on which he stood. A couple of passengers surged forward to catch him and set him on his feet.
The sounds became louder still. The ship rocked violently, lurching forwards like an underground car coming to a stop.
And then – nothing.
Silence.
All was still.
The lights flickered back on.
The passengers waited with bated breath.
Alfie's walkie- talkie-like device bleeped and crackled. He shouldered his way through the crowd out into the passageway and shut the door.
The Doctor stood up.
No-one said a word, no-one moved.
Time stretched out.
Finally, after a thousand years, Alfie returned. He stood shakily atop the table and cleared his throat. "Folks," he said. His voice seemed too loud in the silence of the room. "I'm sorry that we the crew bring you all bad news. We don't believe anyone was hurt or killed, but… as many of you know, the SS Bad Wolf's vehicle park was built as an extension to the ship and separate from the main structure. Isolated, see." He gulped. "We're sorry to bring you the news it's been destroyed."
A hush fell over the crowd. The passengers stood there, numb and staring. Rose, who had taken to breathing hard, looked over at the Doctor, but his expression said nothing. His features were set and solemn.
The vehicle park has been destroyed.
The vehicle park. Destroyed.
And then it dawned on her.
"Doctor," Rose said in a small voice. "Doctor, the vehicle park."
He turned his head to look at her.
"Doctor," she continued, "isn't that where we parked the TARDIS?"
It hit him then. The expression that passed through his face was beyond anything Rose had ever seen play across those features. It started off with shock, then a cocktail of emotion – fear and confusion and grimness and all of it was rounded off by a shot of grief so pungent it hurt to look at.
He sank back into his chair, his expression playing out one last card – emptiness. He looked like a shell, and said nothing.