A/N: Quick note at the top here. If you see an update alert that says 'Chapter 56: with a chapter name that does not match the last update' (or 57 or 98 or six bajillion) in your email in the near or distant future, please be advised that it probably means I was editing earlier chapters and decided that one of them worked better split up. As in, I just recently did that and realized everyone was going to get an email saying I had updated the story. So sorry for anyone I faked out! I don't see it happening super frequently, but just wanted you all to know it's a possibility. Thanks for being great!
-1933-
-Dust Bowl-
As Calypso roused, she rolled to her side only to find the bed was empty. The Doctor was gone. She yawned as she rose from the bed, feeling quite refreshed from her brief rest. A single candle illuminated the room for her, it had melted to a small puddle and the wick sagged sideways, fluttering desperately to stay alive. She couldn't have slept for too long, but there was a sense of shame that she'd slept at all. She very much doubted Jack or any of the other people could claim such a luxury, and clearly the Doctor had not allowed it for himself.
She shivered in the cool room, noting her clothes folded in a neat pile on a chair. She gathered them up and dressed quickly, running her fingers through her dark hair to tie it back at the base of her neck. At the very least it would prevent new windblown knots from forming in her already tangled hair.
The candle finally guttered its last as she left the room, following the warm glow she'd spotted beneath the edge of the door. The hallway was empty and the sitting room held a sturdy oil lantern that illuminated the room around her.
"Doctor?" She called out, she knew it was too much to hope that he had remained in control, but she thought it unusual he wasn't present in the room. She circled to the kitchen, but found no sign of him there either. Her heart began to thrum in her chest, had something happened while she slept? She did another search of the house, but there were only the three small rooms and a root cellar, and they were all empty.
He simply wasn't there.
The canteens remained in the kitchen, sitting neatly on the counter with the bag they'd been carried in. Her half-eaten bowl of soup was also nearby, discarded some time ago in the sink. Outside she could still hear the storms blowing, but the windows had been boarded up, blocking the worst of it. Her eyes fell on the door, suspecting there was only one possibility as to where he was.
"He wouldn't." She spoke softly, trying to assure herself that he couldn't have done something so foolhardy as to march into the storm on his own in the daylight. She approached the window nearest the door, peering through the cracks in the wooden boards that protected the inside of the house. She could tell dusk was near, the swirling winds outside were not the bright golden color of midday, they grew gray and ashy, as though the light were fading but not yet the pitch dark of night.
Her eyes searched the room one last time, but she already knew the truth. He'd taken leave of the house and headed toward the ship. Alone.
Part of her was afraid for him, worrying that there was nothing she could do to help. But the overwhelming feeling was now fury. He'd chosen to leave her behind, just as he'd done before. If he was going to get himself killed, he was certainly going to hear about it from her first.
She laced up her boots quickly, and strapped one of the canteens across her shoulders. With full dark yet to come, she doubted either of them would last long in the storm. She tied the scarf around her face and headed toward the door. Her eyes fell to the stack of firewood nearby. A full log would be too much to carry, but there was freshly prepared kindling stacked on top, not yet cured for burning, it was still fresh enough that a small green bud lingered on a stem.
She took two, mindful that the wood had clearly not saved Jack. It wasn't much of a weapon, but she was angry, and it felt good to hold something she could swing in her hand. She extinguished the lantern, wondering if anyone would ever come back to this house, or if its owners had been stolen away like so many others.
With slight hesitation, she opened the door, a strong gust of wind blowing her backward a single step. She ignored the growing dread in the pit of her stomach and pushed forward, shutting the door behind her as she entered the storm. She tried to recall what direction they had been heading before, but her memories were scattered. All she could remember from before was the fever fueled exhaustion that had spread to every part of her body.
Doubts began to trickle in, her eyes played tricks on her and she thought she saw dark shadows swirling in the sands. She might never find him, not out in this storm. If she couldn't find him, she wouldn't be able to find the ship where all those people were being held, she wouldn't find the Tardis and bring her Doctor back to her.
The wind battered her and despair threatened to overwhelm her before she'd even begun. But her thoughts flickered with hope, a niggling idea that had lingered. The Tardis. She pulled harder on that thread, that one powerful connection she had with the ship. She closed her eyes and raised her face to the sky, trying to focus on that warm and welcoming feeling every time she boarded the Tardis. Tried to call on that piece of herself that was an extension of her home. She ignored the howling of the wind, and the stinging dirt as it struck her face.
There was something, a gentle pull, nothing more. She focused harder, chasing that tiny tangible piece out of sheer desperation.
Here. The word was so faint she wondered if she'd imagined it. But she'd definitely sensed a direction, felt the pull in her core. She turned to face the wind head-on. Hurry! Her blood ran cold, this word was not faint, but urgent and sharp with fear. And then the feeling vanished, as though all energy had been driven into that one message.
Calypso opened her eyes and tightened her grip around the two short branches. She burst into a run, hurtling herself toward the direction she'd last felt the pull. Fear and determination drove her limbs harder than they'd ever gone. With her renewed strength, she quickly ate up the distance between her and where she hoped to find the Doctor before it was too late. Her arms pumped harder, pushing her faster and faster. Dirt coated her mouth and throat, and each breath she took burned, but she ignored it as she ran blindly through the storm.
She'd become accustomed to running, especially with the Doctor. But this was different, this was a marathon, not a sprint. Even as she fought to ignore her body slowly shutting down, she knew it was only a matter of time. Her steps became less sure as her legs began to go rubbery, her boots caught on pieces of the landscape that she'd been able to easily dodge ten minutes before. She knew it wouldn't be long now before she found a soft spot in the soil and collapsed entirely, but that urgency behind the call kept her fighting. It had left no room for doubt, the Doctor was in trouble.
"Come along!"
The voice was faint, possibly a trick of the wind, but it was enough for her to slow to a jog.
"If you want me dead, Roz, come do it yourself."
This time she was certain she'd heard the voice. She squinted in the wind and realized not more than ten feet in front of her, darker shapes were visible through the impenetrable storm. The wind, too, seemed less fierce as she cautiously stepped forward, her limbs still trembling from exertion. She nearly collided with the large oak tree before her, the rough bark a startling contrast to the stinging sands.
She froze behind the tree, because beyond it, the wind stopped entirely. The sky opened to a faded periwinkle above, a few clouds scattered across the horizon hinting at the fading yellow light. There was an old ramshackle barn maybe fifty feet in front of her in an otherwise empty field. Except it wasn't empty.
She had found the Doctor.
He stood there in the center, he wasn't alone, a sark shadow behind him held him firmly in place. Unlike the slippery creature that had attacked her, this one seemed solid. It gripped the Doctor tight, pinning his arms back behind his head. Above them, more of the shadows circled, like vultures, though none seemed to have spotted her.
Her grip on the branches tightened and she stepped out from behind the oak tree, her only protection. She didn't know what she planned to do, but she knew it would have to be fast.
The Doctor spotted her immediately, and almost as quickly, gave a violent shake of his head. Stay. He mouthed. She froze in place, afraid that any sudden movement would attract the creature's attention. But they were oblivious to her presence, a mere fifteen feet away. She stepped slowly back into place behind the tree, keeping her eyes on the Doctor as well as she could.
It was obvious this was not her Doctor, his posture was too aggressive, even as he was helpless. She wasn't sure she trusted his idea of a plan, but as she had little else to go on, she grudgingly accepted his lead.
"Balzar," a deep voice echoed from overhead and Calypso shrank at the sound. One shadow descended from the pack that circled in the slowly darkening sky. It grew in size and substance as it descended, exceeding the height of the Doctor and the creature that held him in place. "As ever, you foul my mood."
"Such malice when I come to offer you a gift," the Doctor sneered at the creature, squirming to stand straighter, but it was largely ineffective.
"What gift could I possibly need from you, when you have found yourself ensnared with one of these creatures?"
"There are many lives, not far from here." Calypso's whole body tensed in fury. "I've returned to bring the pack with me." She swore under her breath, he'd come all this way only to betray them. And she had been the one to let him loose. Alona had been right to attack her, Calypso would bring ruin to all those she protected.
"How embarrassing for you," the snarl was evident in Roz's tone. "You come here with paltry offerings you are too weak to take yourself because you have failed so utterly."
"These are not paltry offerings," the Doctor jutted his chin out, defiant at the scorn dealt his way. "There are hundreds of souls, enough to stock the hunting grounds for weeks. More than that pathetic handful of sick and enfeebled creatures you've managed to capture." Roz stretched taller, clearly incensed. "All I ask is that you segment me from this shell, so I may lead you there."
There was an unpleasant sucking sound that crackled sharply in her ears, after a moment, Calypso realized the creature was laughing.
"You've shamed your pack and your house. There is no sum that could earn you a place back on this ship. We will find a sufficient harvest without your help." He nodded to the creature that held the Doctor. "Destroy this, stain."
The Doctor met her eyes, briefly. Through that look, she could tell that his plan had failed. Whatever he'd hoped to bribe the creature with, had not been enough. Her whole body tensed, worried it was already too late to charge in.
"At least, give me a righteous death. A death clear of this husk."
Roz seemed to consider it a moment, and Calypso found herself hoping against hope. If they could just get them separated, that was half of their problem solved. They would still need to rescue those who had been captured, but it was a step in the right direction.
"No," Roz said with a hint of satisfaction. "Cut his throat."
The creature that held the Doctor shifted positions so it could free one of its limbs while still pinning his arms behind him. The other limb elongated and narrowed in width. She saw with dawning horror that it had taken on the shape of a narrow blade. The Doctor was doing his best to be difficult, but she could see that it wouldn't be long before the creature was able to hold him still to drag the blade across his throat.
She was moving before she even consciously made the decision to do so. Despite leaving the cover of the tree, everyone seemed oblivious to her approach, except for the Doctor.
"No!" He shouted, but she ignored his warning. In a dozen long strides she had closed the distance, the blade was raised to the Doctor's throat and for the first time the creature seemed to sense there was another presence. She threw herself into the Doctor and they both tumbled to the ground. The black blade of the creature came slicing down just over her shoulder and it cried out as it realized its prey had vanished.
"Get out of here!" the Doctor shouted as they both struggled to stand again, their limbs tangled together awkwardly.
"What is this?" Roz's voice rose in fury, but Calypso's eyes were on the creature that stood immediately above them. It had lost focus only momentarily, but now it saw her as an obstacle to its kill. It wielded the blade and struck down at where she crouched, at the last second she lurched forward, ducking beneath the reach of the creature and driving the wooden stakes deep into its chest.
There was a satisfying thunk as she connected with its middle, and then the wood sank deep into its core. She stumbled back as it made a low hissing sound, shrinking in on itself. The branches tugged from her grip as she flinched away, fearful of making contact with it.
The creature seemed to melt as it dropped to the ground, a large inky puddle, and then all the moisture drained from it and it turned to ash.
Calypso stared, wide eyed at where the creature had been.
"The tree!" The Doctor shouted, snatching at her wrist as he took off at a dead sprint. The creatures above them were already diving at them, ready to strike. "Get to the tree!"
"Kill them!" Roz shrieked, so loud she thought she could feel his shrill voice in her bones.
The Doctor nearly yanked her off her feet at one point, steps away from the tree as one of the closest creatures swooped down to strike. With a final burst she threw herself at the tree, hugging it as though it were a long lost friend. The Doctor followed suit, half shielding her between the tree and himself. Her eyes clamped shut, realizing she had no idea why the tree had been their destination. Wondering if perhaps she'd inadvertently decided to spend her last living moments hugging a tree.
Furious shrieks rose up around them, she couldn't bear to look, but the sharp burning pain of their sting never followed. When she risked opening her eyes again, she saw they had stopped short of the tree, as though an invisible barrier prevented them from striking.
"Sire," she could barely hear one of the creatures over the ruckus of furious shrieking. "Dusk approaches."
Her eyes searched the sky and saw that the periwinkle had faded to a deep midnight blue, and the first stars had twinkled into view.
"Contain them." Roz's voice was unmistakably filled with rage and she was glad she couldn't see the creature directly. "We will return in the morning." The creatures that surrounded the tree immediately formed up, and then, as a blur they began to spin around the tree. They moved too fast for her eyes to follow, but she did see the sand as it rose from the ground in a cyclone, mimicking the movement of the creatures.
Aside from the wind whipping around them, the first thing Calypso noticed was the growing heat. As the creatures spun, the temperature rose, uncomfortably so. In a few moments her breathing became labored as the air itself began to feel like fire. Sweat prickled the back of her neck and she had to shut her eyes again against the inferno.
"I can't breathe." She gasped, sipping desperately at the air like a beached fish.
"It's almost finished." The Doctor, still shielding her, spoke directly into her ear.
"Till morning." A creature hissed from somewhere above and the winds finally died down.
She felt like she was roasting, but the temperature finally seemed as though it had peaked. An errant breeze rippled above her, basking her in a momentary pocket of cool air.
She opened her eyes and was startled by what she saw. All around them was a milky yellow wall. It was four feet from the tree, more than ten feet high, and it surrounded them like a pen. When she searched the skies, none of the creatures remained. They were alone in their unusual prison.
"Doctor," she said, as she tried to move and found he was still pinning her to the tree. "I need to breathe."
Breathing might come easier if he would stop crushing her, but the truth was that she merely wanted some distance between them.
He obliged and took a step back, freeing her to pull away from the tree. She turned to inspect the walls closer, heat seemed to radiate off of them, cooking the night air. Her hand raised unbidden, trying to identify the unusual substance.
"Don't," the Doctor snatched her wrist and held it firmly in place. "It's molten glass. It will burn you."
She scowled and snatched her hand back. "You left me behind." She pulled the scarf from her face so he could see exactly how furious she was.
"Yes," he snapped. "That was the point."
"The deal we made was for you to bring me to the ship, and separate you from the Doctor. At what point did that change?"
"When you nearly died getting here."
"What earthly difference does that make?" Her voice rose in fury.
"I was trying to keep you safe." His features were twisted in annoyance and he turned his back to her, as though intending to stride off, but the glass walls limited his movements.
"Safe? Or just conveniently out of the way so you could sell off Alona and her people to your kind?"
"I wasn't-" he made a disgusted sound. "It was a bluff. I was bluffing. If he'd accepted, then you could have your precious Doctor back and we could go our separate ways."
"So you hoped asking nicely would work? Was that your plan?"
He turned back, fists balled at his sides as he glared at her. "It was the only option."
"It wasn't the only option. We discussed the other option. It involved not leaving me behind." Thoughts raced through her mind and she pointed an accusing finger at him. "Did he put you up to this?"
"He?"
"The Doctor!"
"No."
That, at least, she believed. There was a strained honesty behind his answer. "Then what reason did you have for changing our plan?"
"I- It's difficult." His eyes fell away from hers. The irritation still lingered, but it seemed directed at himself. He pushed his mop of hair back, sweat coating his brow.
"What is so difficult? We were going to sneak onto the ship, undetected-"
"You." He snarled. "You make it difficult."
"That's-" Her brain took a moment to comprehend what he'd said, and how he'd said it. The tone he'd used had been all wrong. "I…I don't understand."
"Well, of course you wouldn't." He muttered, looking away again. "This," he gestured to himself. "Isn't just sharing a body. It's sharing a mind. His absurd concerns for your safety have become more… insistent."
"More insistent…" Calypso wasn't sure she believed what she was hearing. "We made a deal. You and I. The Doctor and his concerns were not a part of it."
The Doctor sighed and squeezed his temples with his fingers. "Perhaps you are oblivious to just how strongly he feels about your safety, but I assure you it is not a matter of simply ignoring it."
"But you're not him." She said, rather forcefully.
His eyes searched her face for a long moment, there was something unfamiliar in his gaze, something bewildering.
"No." he finally said. "But the longer we remain like this, the less… defined the edges become." His gaze didn't waver from hers and the frown on her face deepened. "I am more easily swayed by his worries because they have become mine."
"I'm… I'm not sure what to say." Her throat felt dry from more than the hot air.
"There's nothing to say. We stick to the plan." He said gruffly, finally turning from her.
"The plan to sneak aboard the ship? Forgive me, but it seems that's even less likely to succeed now that we're trapped in a jar."
"That is one added advantage of binding too closely with this Doctor," he looked over his shoulder with a grin, but there was a harsh bitterness there. He pulled the sonic screwdriver out of his jacket pocket and aimed it at the glass. "I'm getting a knack for these clever ideas of his."
The screwdriver whined at a low tone, harsh enough that Calypso began to reach to cover her ears, but then she heard something else, a low rumbling sound coming from the walls around them.
"Doc-" the first crack appeared in the wall, spreading slowly at first, and then escalating as more cracks followed, and then with a tremendous crash the whole thing shattered, collapsing in on itself and falling like a curtain.
Calypso stared at the circle of broken glass that surrounded them and the tree, startled it had worked so well. The cool night breeze rushed in and gave her a badly needed breath of fresh air.
"Well," she said, carefully stepping over the remains of the wall. "That was a pretty clever idea."
A/N: LONGER NOTE. Sorry, I just didn't want to rant for a month before you got to the actual chapter. So anyone who is done reading the chapter and doesn't want to listen to me ramble, be on your way and have a lovely day (thought I'd take it as a kindness if you indulged me with a review :D)
Anyway, I was really excited when I started this particular arc, and the longer we're going, the more and more I'm REALLY struggling with it. Like, exponential struggles here. I'm not even sure I'm happy with this end result on the chapter, but I finally just said, screw it, no more tinkering. Just write and if it turns out rubbish, well, we all have sloppy days. ANYWAY. I am assuming this struggle is due to some fault in the writing itself, but I can't identify it because I'm like, all up in it, which makes it harder to see. So if any more discerning literary folks out there have read this chapter, and they see something not quite right. Hit. Me. Up. Man. Tell me what it is. Cause it's frustrating as hell and I would love to finish this arc without yanking my fingernails (I just typo-d that as 'fingersnails' and i laughed for a good minute. wow.) out. Is it because it's filler? I can't tell if it's filler or not. Crap.
HELP. ME.
Also, if anyone has some DW fic recs, I'm sorta feeling in the mood for that, now that I know canon won't be gracing our screens until A YEAR FROM NOW. Like, I get it, you guys want Moffat's last hurrah to be special. But do I need to be the one to suffer for that? Especially because I was all excited about new blood (love the moff or hate him, new shiny stuff is always exciting) but then they yank the rug right out from me like a jerk.
So yeah. Fic recs. Would love some. Please, dears. Thank.
