All translations, explanations, advertisements, and thought processes are at the end of the chapter.
Disclaimer: All shows/ books/ video games/ songs that are mentioned in this chapter are all © to their respective owners, I don't own them.
The Doctor was simmering, furious. Captain Price, now Major Price, had taken over command when Colonel Mace had been killed during the revolt of the factory worker clones. She had taken it upon herself to order a strategic retreat of UNIT forces to the Valiant before ordering the destruction of the whole factory.
A factory that now no longer existed.
First, one of his companions, Martha, had been kidnapped and was being used as a template for a clone and now this senseless massacre. He understood that the clones likely would've been terminated the moment the Sontarans left-and they would leave-but their deaths wouldn't have been intended. In fact, there was a small chance that they might've still survived, even without someone to constantly give them orders. A small chance meaning highly unlikely and probably not going to happen, but a small chance none the less. He would've tried to give them an opportunity to start anew, find them a new purpose, something other than what had just been done.
He closed his eyes, trying to keep his anger under control but finding it getting increasingly more difficult. The only thing keeping him from doing something hasty was the fact that he couldn't afford to do anything rash at the moment. The Time Lord observed the Martha-clone as she moved about the Valiant. At least Martha was alive, the Sontarans must've transported her to another safe location…most likely their ship after Major Price's orders, which just made his job a bit more difficult. He'd simply have to risk it. He'd have to ask Donna, and possibly Penny, to help him with this one too.
Wonderful.
Now to figure out just what exactly the Sontarans were up to. Maybe that would distract him long enough so he didn't end up tossing the Major out of the window.
"What are you doing with that, Penny?" Donna asked warily, eying the mallet in my hands with trepidation. I motioned for her to be quiet and she surprisingly complied, perhaps curious as to the reason why I was suddenly so assertive. I gingerly approached the door and pressed my ear against the wood.
Faintly, I could heard the cry of, "-the honor and the glory of the Sontaran Empire! I'll tell them that Planet Fall is coming!"
I bit my lip and slowly counted to ten before slowly opening the door just a crack. Donna was tall enough that she could easily look over my head and peek through the door herself. Briefly, the image of me poking my head out, then Donna peeking hers out, and finally the Doctor poking his out his out, hit me and I had to quickly stifle giggles. Donna prodded me, warning that I should be quiet, possible thinking the potato-men were the source of my laughter.
They weren't.
They were the reason why I shut the door soon after and hurried over back to the console. "They must be those Sonar-tarans! He never mentioned that they looked like over grown potatoes." Donna paced around the TARDIS, fretting. "Oh, Penny, what're we going to do? What does the Doctor want us to do? Space-man, you better have some trick up your sleeve, I don't want my gravestone titled, 'Death by Potato.' That'd be rubbish, Nerys would never let me hear the end of it…"
I tuned her out as I frowned at the monitor. Rose was on the screen calling out, mouthing the word 'Doctor' over and over again. My eyes frantically scanned the console but I didn't know where to begin. I had no idea which button would adjust the volume so Rose's transmission could go through…or at least make it so she could see me. One button seemed to stand out in particular on the keyboard but I hesitated. What if it was the wrong one? However, as time went on and Rose seemed more worried, I drew up my courage and pressed the button.
Unfortunately, the same time I pressed the button was the same time the Doctor's transmission came in.
It turned out that the button I pressed was, indeed, the right button because the Doctor's words rang through the TARDIS loud and clear. In fact, they were so loud and clear to the point that it was almost painful to listen to as his voice boomed through both the speakers by the monitor and the loudspeakers throughout the ship.
Well, the bright side was, I knew where the volume button was located.
"Doctor!" Donna shouted, running over to my side. "We're right here! We're in a ship filled with those Sonar-tarans and-"
"So, tell me, General Stal, since when did you lot become cowards? Guerilla warfare isn't really your style, now, is it?" The camera seemed to follow him as he walked down a set of stairs and sat in a chair, putting his feet up on a nearby table and looking completely relaxed. I frowned, the background wasn't the right one; he wasn't in the semi-truck-posing-as-an-office anymore.
"What?" Donna exclaimed, confused as she winced from the rather loud volume. "Can you hear me? No need to talk so loud!"
"Oh, you couldn't just say 'belittle?' It would've made my job a little easier…but poison gas? Those are the tactics of a coward, a weakling, someone who is going up against a stronger and better warrior. You went through all the trouble of making thousands of human clones to do your dirty work, building your own weapons for you. You could blast Earth out of the sky, completely decimating it, before it could put so much as a scratch on your shields.
"Then, to top it all off, you have the clones fighting the battle for you at the factory! Now that they're all dead and factory's lost, you're just sitting back and watching the Earth die slowly from the fumes. Where's the honor in that, the glory? Sounds like a waste of time to me…Or, there's something else going on here. What are you up to, Stal?"
"He isn't talking to us, is he?" Donna deadpanned. "He'd much rather talk to the potatoes out there, the useless lump. Sometimes I wonder how much brain is actually in that head of his." I barely paid her any attention, only able to stare at the screen numbly.
Now they're all dead, the factory is lost…
Those words echoed repeatedly in my head, the importance of the factory containing so many people within, including one very important person. My hand flew to my mouth, sickened. Martha couldn't die, she needed to live! She needed to be there at 'Journey's End,' she needed to pose the threat to the Daleks with the Osterhagen key. This wasn't even mentioning the good she'll do in UNIT. We never actually know what ends up happening to her, but I'll betcha that she ends up being one of the biggest impacts in reforming it for the better.
I studied the Doctor's face. He seemed upset and angry, but not completely the Oncoming Storm. This meant one of two things, either Martha never got kidnapped and avoided being replaced by a clone or the Doctor didn't realize that the switch happened and both Martha and her clone were…were…
I swallowed hard, trying to banish the thought from my mind. No, she was alive, she had to be. She was one of the strongest people I knew, even if I only really knew her from the TV and from my brief encounters with her. The Doctor's booming voice dragged me from the dark corner that my thoughts had brought me. I still hadn't figured out where the Doctor was sending this transmission from.
"Ah! So the war isn't going that well, is it? You're losing!" Again, Donna and I flinched from the volume.
"Is there any way to turn this thing down?" Donna grumbled. "I'm going deaf here." Hesitantly, unsure if it would even work, I pressed the same button as before, only to make the volume louder, we both pressed our hands to our ears. "Wrong button!" Donna hollered.
"Sorry," I told her.
"What?!" She shouted-asked.
"Sorry!" I called back.
"What did you say? I can't hear over this Dumbo!"
"I said," I began before changing my mind and shaking my head. "Never mind." I looked back at the console. The button I pressed must've upped the volume, so the next to it would lower it, right? Only one way to find out. I pressed it, fearing the worst. There was a sudden absence of sound, leaving our ears ringing from the silence. I looked up back at the screen, only to discover that the Doctor's face was no longer there!
Oh, crap, this was not good.
"Where did-" Donna began, voice too loud at first before she cleared it and continued in a softer voice. "Where did he go? Did you press the wrong button or-"
Suddenly, the Doctor came back, this time, the volume was at a bearable level. "Finished?" He asked almost pleasantly, leaning forward.
"You prat, did you do that on purpose?" Donna demanded of the Doctor through the monitor. "Can you actually hear us? If you can, I'm going to rip you a new one."
The Doctor didn't react at first but eventually grew solemn before saying in an almost subdued voice, "Well, as far as prizes go, that's a good penny you got there. How noble of you to show how you've filched my phone box. The ironic bit is, it contains a phone, a telephonic device for communication, but there seems to be a lack of it between you and me."
"Oh my…" Donna trailed off before scrambling to grab the flip phone on the console. "I take it back, you're a genius, Doctor!" She flipped it open and made as if to dial before she frowned. "But whom am I supposed to call?"
"G-Ghostbusters?" I offered, only to get a withering look from Donna.
"Big mistake, though," the Doctor remarked, leaning back in his seat, a confident smirk on his face.
"But-But who do I phone?" Donna stammered.
"Because I got a universal remote right here," he bragged, waving his sonic between two fingers.
"You don't even have any numbers in the contacts list!" Donna exclaimed in frustration. "Doctor!" To her chagrin, the Doctor's transmission cut out and she growled, "A fat lot of good that did." I made to say something when the TARDIS shuddered, obviously being moved about. "You could've used some more code to give instructions or a number, but no, you blinking cut off!" She collapsed unceremoniously into the jump seat, completely done with the whole ordeal.
I bit my lip and wandered away, thinking hard and trying to remember what happened next in the episode. The Doctor would eventually call Donna, I knew this, but what happened next? …I think Donna went out to play Whack-a-Tater with this mallet, but after that, I couldn't remember what happened. My memories were too fuzzy.
I heard Donna murmuring on the phone, talking to her family. I wanted to assure myself that everything would work out in the end, but now I wasn't so sure…The clones, the uprising, the destruction of the factory, the Martha-clone issue…I didn't really know anymore, nothing was for certain. I mean, they mentioned none of this in the episode, so how could this be happening? Then again, I wasn't in the episode, now was I? This was all me, I was messing with the timelines.
I groaned quietly, slumping against the wall before sliding to the floor. I could feel a headache coming on, but there was nothing for it. I couldn't keep everything straight, it had been too long. I needed a diary or something, a 'Diary of Impossible Things.'
I let out a small and slightly hysterical giggle, hiding my face behind my knees when Donna curiously glanced my way as she continued to converse on the phone. I faked a sneeze before mumbling loud enough for her to hear, "Bless me." She shook her head before turning back to the conversation as it got a bit more heartfelt, I noticed her eyes glistening and felt guilty. Now was not the time to be joking around, this was serious, people could die!
My train of thought faltered and I swallowed hard, remembering that people had, in fact, died. My mouth ran dry and I felt my nose start to wiggle as tears began forming in the corners of my eyes.
How could I do anything to prevent this from happening again? How could I fix this? I wished for a magic solution, but none appeared, frustrating me to no end.
It was times like this, that I wished that I was a Mary Sue.
Sure, they were two-dimensional in personality, but they, at least, seemed to have everything figured out and their life in perfect order. I could do without the sappy and cliché instant-romance, but a lot of what they did seemed not-at-all stressful and extremely easy. They always seemed to have an idea or a superpower to get themselves out of any fix.
Now would be a good time for me to discover any latent superpowers or any unknown heritage within me.
I squeezed my eyes shut and concentrated very hard.
Any moment, now.
Any moment.
Seriously, any moment would be good, like right-
"Penny, what're doing?" I jumped, heart beating furiously. Donna stood in front of me, regarding my rather pathetic self with equal parts amusement and worry. "Alright?"
"I'm-I'm fine, j-just startled me," I admitted.
"I can see that, just wondering what you were doing before that," she informed me as she carefully took a seat beside me.
"…I was, I was c-concentrating."
She frowned, looking puzzled. "On what?"
I bit my lip, telling her, "You'd laugh."
"I might," she admitted honestly. "But I might not."
"…I was trying t-to make my-myself get a su-superpower or a great idea."
Donna let out a small laugh before saying, "That's better try than what I've been doing. To be honest, a superpower or an idea would be amazing about now. You keep at it, Penny. I'll try to think of something too." Smiling to myself, I leaned back against the wall and closed my eyes, feeling Donna do the same.
"We're all in this together…" I mumbled under my breath, images of 'High School Musical' flashing briefly before my eyes. Maybe with the two of us thinking together, we'd come up with something.
The Doctor paced quietly down the hall, thinking to himself and forcibly ignoring the hauntingly familiar surroundings. Major Price had attempted-and failed-at launching some nuclear missiles at the Sontarans despite the Doctor's advice, claiming it was what the Coronel had wanted. The Time Lord couldn't be sure if this was true, but it was at times like this that he wished that his old friend, Alistair, was at hand.
Things were going downhill very quickly but it was with some relief that the Doctor found that he had the bare skeleton of a plan starting to form in the forefront of his mind. Other important, but not as critical, issues sorted themselves in the background, adding to the greater goal of the main problem's solution. There was only one thing (well, if he was honest with himself, there were several things) that was his plan was heavily pivoting on.
Whether or not Donna, and maybe Penny, would be able to successful complete their part in the whole mad scheme of his.
He groaned and rubbed his face harshly, muttering, "I know, I know, I know, it's risky, but what other choice do I have at this point?" There was only the stillness of the hall to answer him and the muted noise of the soldiers in the main room where nearly everyone was converged. Eventually, he grimly answered his own question, rhetorical though it was, coming to a decision. "None, there's no other way."
He prowled down the hallway farther, wanting to put more distance between him and the imposter who was posing as one of his beloved companions, as one of his family. 'Poor Martha,' he reflected regretfully. 'She always seems to get the short end of the stick…' He then gave a rueful smile. 'But she was one of my better companions for being able to put up with all the rubbish and being able to deal with a moody sod the whole time. Did I ever tell her how brilliant she was, is?'
He couldn't remember.
The Doctor made a mental note to rectify that as he approached a random soldier who was currently talking to another. "You there, do you have a phone? I need it."
The soldier turned around and the Time Lord was greatly relieved to see that it was Ross. "Hello, sir," he greeted politely. "I do, but it won't be much use here. Mobiles don't have any signal up here unless they're specially modified." Ross still handed it over anyway.
"Thanks, Ross," the Doctor smiled faintly, distracted. The soldier saw this, giving the Time Lord a knowing look but refrained from commenting, seemingly aware that this was not the most secure place to have a conversation. The Doctor added another mental note to give the Brigadier a recommendation concerning the soldier beside him. Tossing his friend a wave, the Doctor strode away from the two soldiers and into an empty room, fiddling with the mobile phone in his hands with the sonic screwdriver.
Modifications complete, the Doctor made a call, completely intending to give the phone back with the universal roaming upgrade as a thanks for loaning the phone in the first place.
The phone suddenly started ringing and we both jumped. Donna fumbled trying to get it out of her pocket but managed by the sixth ring. She quickly answered, asking, "What's happening? Where are you?"
A pause.
"Yeah, we're both here…hang on." Donna moved the phone from her ear and fiddled with it before announcing, "Alright, I've got it on speaker."
"Good, I need you both to hear what I have to say."
"Can't you just zap us down to Earth, tell us in person?"
"Yeah, about that…I lied. There is no remote, although I really should get one. I just needed them to move you two, so you could go around the ship undetected. I'm really, really sorry, but I need you two to leave the TARDIS."
"But there are Sonar-tarans out there, they'll get us before we even move five feet!"
"Sontarans," the Doctor corrected. "They'll all be at the battle station. Like kids watching telly, they won't move from their spots. I'll walk you through everything, promise."
"But what if they catch us?"
"…" The silence was strained on his end before he managed to say, "I know, I know, but you're the only people who can do this. The whole planet is choking, there's nothing else I can do. I wouldn't ask otherwise."
Donna and I exchanged glances and I gave her an encouraging, if strained, smile. Finally, she asked, "What do we need to do?"
"Martha's been kidnapped by the Sontarans and is on their ship, probably near the med-bay, somewhere where no Sontaran worth his salt would be caught dead if he could help it…They'd much rather die on the battlefield. I need you two to go find her and spring her from the mental link, so her clone on Earth goes off-line."
"Wh-What?" I gasped. "What about the f-factory?"
Silence on the Doctor's end.
I realized my mistake only when it was too late and he was asking me quietly, "How did you know about the factory, Penelope?"
I bit my lip, thinking swiftly before managing, "C-Clones. They'd n-need the original to c-copy. Wh-Why not at the f-factory?"
The Doctor said nothing for a moment before directing his next comment to Donna. "I need you two to hurry, Donna. Are you outside yet?"
"Hang on, hang on," Donna chided him as she strode hurriedly over to the door. As silently as she could manage, she opened the door and looked outside. A moment later, she just as quietly closed the door and leaned against it. "There's a Sonar-taran, er, Sontaran outside."
"Did he see you?"
"No…his back was to me."
"Alright, I need you to listen carefully. There's a vent on the back of their head where the base of the skull meets the neck, the probic vent. One swift blow to the probic vent and they're out like a light."
"But he's going to kill us," Donna exclaimed in a harsh whisper.
"I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry, but you've got to try." Donna swallowed hard and made her careful way towards where I was standing. Wordlessly, I handed her the mallet before I grabbed the regular sized hammer from underneath the console. I nervously joined her as she made her way back to the door, hesitating before absent-mindedly grabbing and putting on the Doctor's coat, which rested on the railing where he previously discarded it before helping me to medbay, and quietly opening the door once more. I didn't dare breathe as we slipped out together, the TARDIS door soundlessly closing behind us.
Donna hoisted her mallet aloft as she approached the Sontaran from behind. In one smooth motion, she brought her weapon mercilessly upon the probic vent and, with a sound similar to gas releasing, the Sontaran collapsed instantaneously. Donna lifted the phone up near her face, "Down in one!"
"Now you need to find the med-bay. Since they can't really spare the soldiers at the moment, the guard was probably guarding both the TARDIS and the entrance of the med-bay. Is there a corridor or a door immediately to the side or next to the TARDIS?"
"Th-There's a hallway w-with only one door on m-m-my left," I offered. "Door's open."
"Try it, just a quick peek, but be careful!" The Doctor warned.
"I'll try not to blow anything up," Donna joked, not so subtly referring to when the roles had been reversed. We heard a half-hearted scoff on the other end but nothing else to indicate that the Doctor was still present on his side of the line. Cautiously, we entered the room down on the other end, but just like the Doctor had predicted, there was only one guard who was keeping watch over both the TARDIS and Martha, who was hooked up on a metal stretcher on steroids with a large metal contraption stuck to her head that looked rather similar to a bear trap.
"Oh no, Martha!" I gasped. I knew this would happen, but seeing her there in real life, strapped like a slab of meat on the stretcher, was a bit too much.
"What is it?" The Doctor demanded. "What's wrong?"
"Martha's got some sort of metal thing on 'er head, got no clue what, though," Donna answered as I fretted nearby. Donna approached the unconscious woman, taking a closer look.
"…That's probably a neural relay, connecting Martha to her clone. Currently, she in a hypnotic sleep, remove it and the connection will break, freeing her."
"On it," Donna announced, swiftly snatching the bear trap like thing from Martha's head, making her gasp deeply as her eyes snapped open.
The clone posing as Martha prowled down the hallway, looking for the Doctor. With the plan this far down the road to completion, there wasn't a use for him any longer. In fact, her superiors had already attempted to eliminate him from existence. Truly, he was a worthy opponent, if a bit of a fool for not noticing the subterfuge from within his own ranks sooner.
She had a feeling that he was at least suspicious of her at this point as he had attempted to slip past her guard many a time. She let him go in the previous attempt and had begun to stalk him after waiting a moment or two. She fingered her gun, safety off and at the ready to make the kill for the glory of the Sontaran Empire. She witnessed the Doctor nabbing the phone off of the soldier and ducking into an empty room. Now was her chance.
She had a feeling that he was calling his companion. She never quite believed him when he said that Donna was at home but had preened at his compliment about her being a soldier, even though he'd never realize just how true it was until the last moment. Either way, this plot of his had to be put to a stop before his plan against the Empire came to fruition.
She strode confidently up to the soldier, assured that they wouldn't stop her, both high-ranking and the Doctor's companion. She didn't account for the one telling her that the Doctor was busy at the moment and not to be disturbed by anyone. She whirled around, asking, "Sorry, what?"
"The Doctor is not to be disturbed," the soldier repeated.
"I'm his companion."
"Yes, you are and he is not to be disturbed," he persisted. The soldier next to him seemed surprised but said nothing, obviously this was not a pre-established order.
"Says who?" She challenged.
"I do, ma'am. The Doctor has a reason for going off and his own and shutting the door to the room behind him. He does not want to be disturbed." She was the smallest bit impressed that the tone of his voice was completely respectful and even. Most of her was annoyed by his persistence and gall, though.
"Look," she began. "You-"
Suddenly, she was cut off, voice choking in her own throat as she collapsed on the ground. It was too late, she knew. His companion had somehow infiltrated into the main ship, disconnecting the link between her and the original model. She had approximately three minutes, maybe four, before the link severed entirely and she would cease to exist.
She would not go down without accomplishing her mission.
The Doctor would die with her.
Determinedly, she began to crawl and heave herself towards the room that the Doctor was in, but once again, the soldier from before tried to prevent her from completing her objective. "Dr. Jones, I'll have to request that you remain still while Simon sends for medical assistance. Surely, as a doctor you know that it may be better to not move?"
"I must see the Doctor," she growled when he laid a gentle but firm hand on her shoulder.
"Let me do it then, what does he need to know?" He continued to hinder her, and she knew that precious time was slipping past, some she could not allow.
With some difficultly, she leaned on her elbow and maneuvered the gun to an acceptable angle and fired two shots. There was a startled cry and the constricting hands disappeared. She was close now, she knew it. Her mission must be completed!
As if having been summoned, the Doctor ripped open the door with a panicked look on his face. She managed a victorious smirk as she fired the gun one last time before it fell from her now limp grip.
Objective terminated.
"Now, you need to find the external junction feed to the teleport. It looks like a circular panel on the wall with a symbol on the front, looks something like a 'T' with a horizontal line through it or two F's back to back. When you find it, you need to take off the covering and flip all the blue switches inside-" There were loud bangs on the Doctor's side of the phone and he cursed. "Have to let you three go, blue switches!"
The line suddenly went dead.
The three of us exchange solemn and apprehensive glances with each other before making our way of out the sickbay. I handed Martha the Doctor's coat which had been far too large on me and had been dragging on the floor. She nodded her thanks before whispering, "Any ideas?"
"Only way to go, is forward. There's the TARDIS and a corridor on our left with a door," Donna murmured back. Gingerly, all three of us stepped over the Sontaran laying on the ground and approached the door. "It's Sontaran shaped, you need three fingers!"
Martha studied it for a moment for muttering, "Live long and prosper." Then, making her hand in the shape of the trademark Vulcan hand sign from Star Trek, she placed it against the panel and the door opened. Grinning, she told us, "And Mum said that sci-fi would never help me any in real life."
"You are just wizard!" Donna gushed as the three of us hurriedly tip-toed in through the door, which promptly closed behind us. I hurried nodded my agreement, beaming. I would've never suspected that Martha was a fellow Trekkie…we were like unicorns or something. Besides, I thought she'd watch the British version of House or Scrubs, just for the laughs. It just seemed like something she would do to amuse herself, like when my grandpa watched Mythbusters or Big Bang Theory with me.
We scurried down the new hallway, looking for the panel the Doctor had mentioned before with the back to back F's, but couldn't find it. I didn't mention going back, but I did think about it, considering the risk level continued to rise the longer we wandered around the Sontaran ship. I couldn't tell if they felt the same way, but I had a feeling that they were the bigger persons and the thought never crossed either of their minds. It was probably a good thing that I wasn't doing this alone, I wouldn't have been able to continue as far as I did, otherwise.
Actually, we went so far, I don't think any one of us would've been able to retrace our steps back anyway. Our only option was forward.
The sound of a door sliding open could be heard and the three of us looked at each other in panic. None of us had touched a door panel. The sound of multiple footsteps could be heard and it didn't take a genius, then, to figure out what it all meant. Quickly, we ducked behind a partition, I was ushered toward the back nearest to the crack, as I was the smallest, and I sat down on my hunches while Donna stood over me. Martha stood in front of us and used the Doctor's coat to cover all three of us as the light brown blended in with the wall much better than either my or Donna's beacon-red hair.
We listened with baited breath as the soldiers marched on by, not one of them noticed us. It took somewhere between fifteen to twenty seconds for all the soldier to pass us by, and, still, we waited until their footsteps faded away. We exchanged wary glanced before Martha slowly stepped away from us, cautiously lowering the Doctor's coat. Donna helped me to my feet as Martha checked around the corner one last time. "All clear," she informed us in a whisper.
Donna sighed in relief, "Thank goodness. Just about had a heart attack there." She shuddered. "Let's get moving, yeah?" Martha gave a small smile before taking point once again, sharp eyes flickering around and taking in every panel. I merely looked for anything that looked like a teleport, a space with a giant circle of lights on the wall inside it. Definitely wasn't as easy as it looked on TV.
Martha spotted it first, asking us to be sure, "Does that look right? A 'T' with a line through it?"
"I think so, it's the only one we've found so far," Donna answered, frowning. "So, we just…pop it off?"
"Just like a fuse box…" Martha muttered, as she felt around the edges and sides. After a few tense attempts, she informed us, "My nails are a bit too short, can't get them under the crack."
"Let me try," Donna offered. "My nails are a bit longer than most people's but strong. I use varnish." After a moment, there was a slight creak and the top reluctantly came off. "Flip the blue switches he said…But which direction? Some are up and some are down!"
"I don't know, he never said!"
I felt the blood slowly drain from my face and swallowed hard. "Tr-Try calling him," I suggested hoarsely. Numbly, Donna did just that, and we all held our breath as the line rang…
The Doctor spoke with Major Price in low tones as he watched the severely injured Ross being carried away and the Martha-clone's body being covered by a sheet. He impatiently waved off any medical personnel that came near him to tend to the gunshot wound on his right arm. Right now, he felt that their only concern should be Ross who could possibly die. He had already carefully pulled out the two bullets using a small magnetic force generated by his sonic using a lower setting. However, he could not cauterize the wound, as several layers needed to be sealed, not just the outer one. That would require surgery.
He had made a make-shift tourniquet from the small bungee cord he found in one of his pockets, but that was just a temporary fix. It would have to do for now. The Doctor estimated that he had thirty to forty-five minutes before his wound became in dire need of attention and in danger of becoming infected or too much blood had been lost…even with his superb control over his body.
He expected more difficultly from the Major, but was surprised to find that she was as upset over Ross's injury as he was, albeit for different reasons. He noticed the suppressed grief in her expression and briefly wondered if she had loved the Coronel. It would explain why she had blatantly ignored the Doctor's advice concerning the missiles and had destroyed the factory, obliterating every last one of the clones inside. "Doctor," she finally told him. "Whatever we can do to assist you in removing the Sontarans and the…clones from Earth-space, name it. Too many people are being lost and I'm running out of options. The gas is at sixty-six percent density…it's fatal at eighty."
"Drop me off at the Rattigan Academy. It has everything I need there."
"Do you need backup?"
"No."
The Doctor wasted no time in entering the building the moment the Valiant got low enough for him to leave it, swiftly striding down the halls and into the lab where Luke was tersely pacing. At the sound of the Doctor's approach, he lifted up his gun and started ordering, no, pleading, "Don't tell them what I did, it wasn't my fault! The Sontarans lied to me, they-"
The Doctor didn't miss a beat as he treaded forward, snatching the gun right out of the boy's hands as he breezed past, grinding out, "If I see one more gun…!" Without looking, he threw it across the room where it broke a window, landing somewhere outside. Luke stood there, face crumpled and looking lost, knowing that everything was ruined. The Doctor went into Luke's office and over to the teleport, sonic screwdriver at the ready.
He began the process of taking out wires, detaching them, reattaching them, and shifting the connections around, among other things, when Luke silently entered the room, watching him. Quite suddenly, he said, "Caesofine concentrate, one part Bosteen, two parts Probic 5."
The Doctor froze. "Clone feed, that's why they're not invading, they're converting the atmosphere. Give 'em a planet this big, they'll create billions of new soldiers. That gas isn't poison, it's food! I'll have to scrap my previous igniter fuel, too volatile for the already explosive caesofine…might blow up the whole planet." He turned to look at the shamefaced teenager. "This doesn't make up for all the things you've done, but it's a start." His sonic started to whirl once more as he turn back to the task in front of him. After a moment, the phone, Ross's phone, started ringing. Gingerly, the Doctor freed a hand to answer the phone, putting it on speaker before continuing with his task, setting it on the floor. "Got it?"
"Up or down, you never said!"
"Sorry," the Doctor said tersely before saying, "Up, all the blue switches need to be up. It'll turn on the teleport so I can get you three out of there." The sonic warbled as he did the last touches and he stood up, exiting the teleport and adjusting the settings on his sonic. "Donna?"
"All the blue switches are up."
"Alright, all three of you stand next to each other by the panel…" He heard Penny let out a small cry on the other end and aimed at the controls. "Teleporting, now!" The sonic whirled and Donna, Martha, and Penelope simmered into existence. They seemed startled and relieved.
Donna was the first to react, giving the Doctor a fierce hug, exclaiming with a small sob in the back of her throat, "Have I ever told you how much I hate you?" Martha joined in and the Doctor allowed to be sandwiched for only a brief moment before wincing and squirming.
"Get off me, get off me, need to teleport the TARDIS! We can hug later, planet choking!" Truth be told, they had been aggravating his wound and it really hurt, but it was just as well that he had to do this too. Once he was sure that the TARDIS was back where it should be on Earth, he deadlocked the teleports open. Mind already several steps further into his plan, one where he might not actually have to worry about his injury for much longer…
Grimly pressing his lips together, he turned, noticing Penelope looking rather faint where she sat in the teleport pod out the corner of his eyes…She was also staring his right arm in confusion. His suit jacket was over the bungee cord and the wound, soaking up the blood. The suit was too dark to see exactly what the stain consisted of and, he suspected, Penelope likely did not have perfect vision, the kind you use with your eyes.
Although, he also suspected much the same of her extra-sensory vision. He suspected that she knew about Martha's fate, even going so as to warn the older woman. Penelope didn't give out any exact details, but implied that the factory workers were dangerous and that she needed to be careful. She was also extremely surprised and distraught when the factory was revealed to be completely destroyed and largely relieved when Martha was revealed to be on the Sontaran ship, alive. He didn't know for sure the extent of her knowledge, but she seemed to be able to see into alternate timelines as well as the current one with some blind spots…Possibly, she was unable to see the direct consequences of her actions.
In short, even though Penelope could see the future, just like her ocular-vision, her extra-sensory vision was near-sighted. This was probably due to her being untrained and the visions uncontrolled. She had all the information, but it was all unsorted and jumbled, of little to no use, but just enough to be dangerous. Obviously, he would have to keep a closer-
The Doctor pursed his lips as he exited out of the teleport, heading to the lab. "One thing at a time," he absent-mindedly muttered aloud, unaware that his companions had, actually, been rushing over themselves asking questions and telling him things. He tended to do this, make off-hand remarks that weren't really intended for anyone but could be used to make it seem as if he was knowledgeable of what was going on around himself. It largely relied on others inferring and assuming things, rather than anything the Doctor actually did. A rather subconsciously intuitive trick he learned over the past one thousand something years.
The Doctor fixed his attention to the task before him, mouth on auto-pilot as he explained his idea to save the Earth, minus a few key components…like how he was going to deal with the Sontarans afterwards. He doubted anyone suspected, minds having not gone that far ahead into the series of events, as everything pivoted on the Atmospheric Converter being successful. However, the pensive expression Penelope was wearing as she steadily regard him, made the Doctor uneasy. She did nothing to interfere, which proved that she at least had some restraint, but he couldn't be sure for how long that would last.
Perhaps this would be her test?
Few things were going the way it had in the episode, the whole clone-issue and the factory among the things in the non-cannon timeline. Here was yet another, the Doctor was already at the Rattigan Academy. This was probably for the best, since the factory was already blown up, so he couldn't exactly go there first…especially if he had no reason to with Martha up in space. The atmosphere cannon seemed to work fine and the burning of the gas was a lot prettier than I expected it would be, the flames a darker, richer gold and red.
There was something else, though, a lump was under the Doctor's jacket sleeve by a dark stain. He kept moving and had his other shoulder facing the rest of us so we wouldn't notice it all that much, but…it hadn't been there in the episode. It worried me, but I said nothing because it wasn't the right time. Surely, the Doctor was smart enough to make sure he got treatment, however temporary, before saving the world?
The lump was probably a make-shift bandage or something to stopper up the blood, if that was what it was. My stomach rolled at the thought, queasy, as I watched him haul the cannon back inside at a dead-run. 'Didn't that hurt?' I wondered as I watched it jar against his possibly-injured arm. He didn't give an indicator that it did, so I wondered if I was just paranoid, then.
The Time Lord went into the teleport with cannon under one arm and he started to fiddle with it. "Right, so…" There was a brief pause, as if he was momentarily at a loss for words, before he said, "Donna, thank you, for everything. Martha, you too, oh, I never did tell you how brilliant you are. Luke, do something clever with your life." Then he turned to me, voice very serious as he captured my eyes. "Penelope," he said gravely. "Watch but don't interfere, remember that."
I closed my eyes and looked down, knowing that I had already failed him. Donna murmured, almost in disbelief, "You're saying goodbye."
"Well," the Doctor said, as he pressed a few buttons on the cannon. "Sontarans are never defeated, and they're getting ready for war. And, well, you know, I've recalibrated this for Sontaran air, so..."
"You're going to ignite them, just like you did with the gas," Martha realized.
"You're going to kill yourself," Donna corrected.
"Just send that thing up, on its own, I don't know... put it on a delay!" Martha pleaded.
"I can't," the Doctor told them, looking at all of levelly, no doubt in his mind.
"Why not?" Donna asked, her voice a mere whisper.
"Because I've got to give them a chance." Not breaking eye contact, he pressed some buttons and soon disappeared from our sight. Donna let out gasp, hands covering her face before moving to the sides of her head. She stared at the teleport in disbelief, denial of what just occurred colored her face. Martha turned away, unable to bare looking at the teleport any longer. Despair seemed to cloak the room, and while I wanted so desperately to believe that everything would be alright, I couldn't be for sure.
Everything had gone so terribly wrong, maybe the Doctor really would die.
Tears filled my eyes and I gracelessly sunk to the ground, nose on overdrive, wiggling. A pressure built up in my chest and I felt a sob develop in the back of my throat. I had a hard time swallowing, but managed not to make a sound. I knew if I cried, the dam would break and I would lose control. If there was ever a time that I would find it all to be a dream, this would be it. This would be the best possible time for me to wake up in my room back in the hospital. No, even intensive care would be better than this. Never had I wanted to be there as I did now.
I almost missed it as Luke began to approach the teleport. He hesitated and I caught a glance of his face, vulnerable and scared. A tear fell down and he carefully rubbed his face with his shirt and took a careful, deep breath, swallowing hard. When the shirt was removed from his face, his expression was once more the blank and neutral mask he had been wearing the whole time I had seen him. His movements were business-like and efficient as he began to work on the cords under the teleport.
I didn't dare look away.
I remembered how back at home, he was considered an idiot despite his status as a genius. He had been considered arrogant, a jerk, and a selfish teenager who only helped out because he wanted to get back at the Sontarans. He had been portrayed as a whiny brat whose only concern was his own self-interest.
I only knew him as a scared kid.
He was just like you and me. Luke only wanted to feel like he belonged somewhere, he wanted to feel appreciated. Even though, he probably had misgivings about the Sontarans, he joined anyway, because he felt like he belonged somewhere, like he was wanted. He just had his feelings been played by people who only wanted to use him. We've all had that happen to us at least one time in our lives, made a mistake by running with the wrong crowd, put our trust in someone who would only end up hurting us. Luke just had the misfortune of being used by the Sontarans.
But that was where the similarities ended.
He was terrified, that much was evident as his hands trembled and shook, but even still, he didn't stop or hesitate once in his task. He had done wrong, and now, he was going to right it in the only way he saw how, the only way he could. No matter how much it scared him, no matter how much he wanted to run away, he was going to see this through. He was going to save the man who was willing to give up his own life to save someone he didn't even like, to save a whole planet full of people that he didn't even know.
This was where I saw him as a dignified person to be respected, a hero, even if he wasn't one by any conventional means.
"I'll remember you," I told him, my voice surprising steady as the teleport chirped, editions made. He looked at me. "I'll never forget." His eyes widened in surprise before a painful look of gratitude crossed his face.
"What are you doing?" Martha asked and our eye contact broke as he stood, addressing her.
"Something clever."
And then he was gone and the Doctor was in his place, collapsed in a heap on the teleport floor, breathing hard. He seemed to be in a stunned state of shock as he maneuvered so that he was sitting on the edge of the teleport. Martha went over and nestled in beside him, reassured that he was alive. Donna slowly made her way over and thwacked him on the arm for scaring everyone. He recoiled a bit, and both he and Martha stared at her in surprised before she fell to her knees next to him, gripped his arm in relief that he was here with us, safe.
I exhaled, sharing that strong sense of relief that was now at war with a sense of loss of this person who was one of the bravest people I ever met, and rested my head on my knees, trying to get all my tumultuous emotions into some semblance of order.
I sat on the TARDIS jump seat, carefully fiddling with the tennis racket in my hands that I had brought with me from the academy. His name was engraved on it in a fancy script, Lucius "Luke" Rattigan. He had probably played tennis a lot, maybe even had been good at it. He had probably practiced for hours on end, both from enjoyment of the sport and the desire to become skilled at it. Maybe he used to have dreams of becoming a professional player when he was younger before all of this.
I could almost see him as a younger kid, running after the bouncy, green tennis balls and deftly flicking them back to the opposing side with another racket, a practice one. I saw his skinned knees and sore wrists from practicing with both hands-I instinctively knew that he had been ambidextrous. I saw the disapproval from his father, him being berated for not playing a proper sport, like football (soccer) or rugby or boxing. I saw how his mother supported him, if only the smallest bit reluctantly, and told him that he was a smart kid and could make his own choices in life.
I saw where his life began to change, starting with his mother scraping together and saving the money needed to buy him this precise racket that I was holding in my very hands. He had thrown himself into the thick of tennis, ignoring his father's disapproval and grumblings as well as his mother's hints at taking advantage of his intelligence and applying it in school. Tensions began running high between both of the men, never quite coming to a confrontation or resolution, his mother coming in the middle to keep things peaceful and whole. Then his father had died and his mother had shattered, becoming less than a mere husk of what she used to be.
I saw as he put his own interests on hold then, and did everything he could to please her, putting all of his focus in school, but nothing seemed to bring his mother back, not completely. She'd give a faint smile and tell him how clever he was, how proud she was…but the words rang hollow. He had ate them up, taking anything he could, trying desperately to bring a sense of completion or satisfaction in his life. I saw him when he came back to an empty home, with no idea where his mother was, and how he never found out if she was dead or alive.
I saw how he became bitter and how he had that never-ending hunger to prove, not only to everyone else, but to himself that he was as clever as his mother had told him. I saw how he kept this racket with him always, never using it until only recently after he met the Sontarans, so sure that he had finally met his goal and could move on with his life…
I put down the racket, shuddering.
I wondered if he made peace with himself up in the Sontaran spaceship in his final moments. I wanted to believe so then, and I'd like to think to this very day that he did.
As it was now, the Doctor finally admitted to being injured, proving my suspicion correct. I was horrified to find out that he had been shot by a clone. He never specified what clone it was, but I had a hunch that I would never voice out loud. 'I guess she managed to do what her counter-part didn't,' I thought with a cringe. 'Oh, this is my fault, if I had only watched…no, if I had only stayed in the TARDIS, none of this would've happened. It would've gone just like the episode.' Guilt filled me, my only consolation being that at least Luke…Lucius would never be forgotten as long as I was alive and that he had been assured that much before he…passed away.
I looked at the racket in consideration. Perhaps, I should put it away. No one had been paying me any attention when I brought it in and when we dropped Donna off to go talk with her family. And with the Doctor whipping off his stained suit jacket with a groan the moment Donna had left, striding purposefully away to the med-bay with Martha tagging along worriedly after him, the commotion was enough that no one had noticed the memento that I had been clutching in my hands. Or, at least, it hadn't come to my attention that they did.
I was originally going to find some place to store the racket in my room, but a door just down the hall from my room open by its own power, stopping me. I curiously peered inside the room to see a relatively small room that only contained shelves. Puzzled, I straightened and stepped away from the room after a moment, not understanding. 'It must've opened by accident. A breeze blew it open or something.' I steadfastly ignored the fact that there shouldn't be a breeze in the TARDIS.
I warily looked around the hallway with a shiver before closing the door and once more making my way down the corridor. Up ahead, I noticed another door opening and I curiously approached it, just a tad more cautiously this go around. It was the same room as before. Maybe not the same exact room, I hadn't thought so then, but one extremely similar to it. Spooked, I closed the door and hurriedly bustled down the hallway.
Twice more, the same thing happened to me with the storage room and it was then that I realized that I had to be, not a time loop, but spacial loop or something. No matter how many times I closed this door and went past it, if was up ahead and opening for me. The next time it happened, the door had a sign on it, clearly stating, 'Penelope's Loft.' I stared at it for a moment and looked inside. Once again, it was the same room with the shelves from before. I felt an impatient nudge, the same sensation that I had felt the first day here and occasionally a few time before during my time here in the TARDIS.
I had come to understand that it was the sentient ship, herself, trying to communicate with me.
Currently, she wanted me in the shelf room presently labeled as my loft. I entered it and was only now beginning to understand what the past few minutes meant. This was a storage space for my… souvenirs? I grimaced, it wasn't quite the word I was looking for, but it was the only thing I could think of with a similar definition. Reminders, maybe.
I stepped further into the room, and there, on the first available space on one of the shelves was a small label, "Squash Racket: Sontaran Stratagem & Poison Sky." I swallowed hard and looked at the racket in my hand. Clearly, this was the place where it was meant to rest. I peeked at the label next to it, it was halfway blank, the second half of it was labeled, "The Doctor's Daughter." I looked at the next label, it was completely blank. Intuitively, I knew that this was to prevent any paradoxes or force anything to be written in stone.
A voice floated in the back of my mind, "Anything you read will happen, it becomes fixed, because you read it, I have to do it. For this, time can't be rewritten, it's fixed. I'm sorry." I closed my eyes and slowly exhaled, dismissing the vaguely familiar voice. I gently placed the tennis-sorry, squash-racket in its designated spot and quietly left the room, shutting the door behind me. I would be back, but for now, I had other things to attend to…like making sure the Doctor was alright.
Not that I didn't trust Martha, I just wanted to make sure that I didn't screw so bad that I cost the Doctor an arm or something…
My blood ran cold at the thought. Unlike when he first regenerated, he wouldn't be able to just grow it back, it would stay gone until 'Journey's End' when he sort-of regenerated. Fearfully, I trotted down the halls until I found the sickbay. The Doctor still had his arm and was making a face at his stained suit jacket, currently shirtless. My eyes drifted to where I originally saw the blood…there was only the faintest traces of a round scar. Martha was putting away some futuristic looking device.
I must've made some small noise by stepping further into the room, because the Doctor looked up, spotting me. He sent me a reassuring grin. "Don't worry, 's alright now. I'm just fine, thanks to Martha, not even unfamiliar technology from the future can stop her." Martha rolled her eyes but smiled nonetheless, taking the compliment for what it was. "I'm going to go change out of this suit. Martha, you're welcome to whatever you want in the wardrobe!" I stepped back to let the Doctor past as he headed into the direction of the rooms, presumably to go to his own.
Martha came to stand next to me and we both watched him disappear around the corner. She was still wearing his coat, I realized, not having any time to change into anything else since the Doctor had a wound that needed medical attention. Suddenly, Martha spoke, "He never directly asks, you know, when he wants you to come with him. He's trying really hard, now, to make me feel like I'm appreciated. It's nice to know he cares, but I'm good here, back at home. I've been better for my time away." She gives a smile, and I realize that she's not directly talking to me, I just happen to be here.
I find myself not minding this too much, falling into the familiar habit of passive listening. Something, I realized with no small amount of amusement, that I always did. I tended to give the air of being easy to talk to and being able to give good advice when wanted. Laura had always said I should be a psychologist or therapist, and I could see where she was coming from. Most of the time, people just needed someone to listen to them. I, however, had been firmly set on my path as a dental hygienist.
That didn't mean that I couldn't lend a sympathetic ear, or even just an ear in general, once in a while.
Martha seemed to shake herself out of whatever train of thought that she had put herself in and sent another smile to me, this one slightly confused and a bit embarrassed. She excused herself and went down another hallway, that one being in the direction of the wardrobe. I didn't feel insulted, I understood that she was just baffled and self-conscious at sharing something so personal with someone that she only had known for a few hours.
I paused. Had it only been that long? It had felt so much longer than that, like a day or two. I now understand what Rose had meant by how traveling with the Doctor could seem timeless and, at the same time, like forever. It all depended on what part of the adventures with him you were looking at.
I eventually meandered back to the console room and took my now-becoming-customary spot on the jump seat. I swung my legs back and forth and as I shifted, my hand landed on something slightly damp. It was the gauze from before, still laying right where I left it on the jump seat. I regarded it for a moment before uncertainly picking it up and stuffing it in the big decorative pocket on the overalls I was wearing. I figured that I'd get rid of it when the chance presented itself. The Doctor reappeared in the console room, wearing his brown suit and adjusting his tie. I studied his apparel, scrunching my nose slightly. I had always preferred the blue suit on him.
He noticed. "What?"
I was quiet for a moment before finally remarking, "You remind m-me of a t-twig." He gained an affronted look and I realized how rude that the statement actually was. I hurriedly apologized and explained my line of thought. "I li-like brown, it's my f-favorite color. It's j-just, you're so s-slender and-and tall, not tha-that that's bad, I mean, er…" My hands fluttered uselessly as I tried to explain. Finally, I muttered, "That sounded d-different in my h-head…"
The Doctor was now more amused than anything at this point, but he let the conversation drop, moving to stand next to the console and fiddle with it. Martha joined us not long after, unsurprised to see the Time Lord where he was, doing what he was doing. I had a feeling that's how she usually found him and that this was something he usually did in his free time: fiddling with the console and messing with things that didn't really need to be messed with, he just liked doing it. The TARDIS remained silent for only a few moments more until Donna came in.
It was if we had been frozen and unable to break the silence for different reasons.
Martha unfroze first. "How were they?" She asked, voice soft.
"Oh…" Donna said as she walked up the ramp and onto the grating towards us. "Same old stuff, they're fine, yeah." Changing the subject with a burst of energy, she turned to Martha, "So, you going to come with us? Not exactly short on space here, more the merrier."
"Well, I have missed all this…but I'm good here, back at home. I've been better for it. Besides, I've got someone waiting for me. Never mind the universe," Martha told us with a genuinely happy smile as she headed towards the open TARDIS door. "I've got a great big adventure-"
The previously open door slammed shut of its own accord and the TARDIS suddenly shuddered, piloting itself into flight. The sound similar to a train braking or a car engine failing to start echoed around us and the Doctor's hand hiding under the console bubbled violently in its container. "What? What?" The Doctor yelped, seemingly unable to comprehend this, the TARDIS piloting itself to and unknown destination, despite his best efforts to cut the trip short.
"Doctor, don't you dare!" Martha warned him severely as the world around us shook.
"I ain't touching it!" The Doctor managed to get out at he grabbed hold of the monitor, staring into it. "We're in flight!" His voice was high in disbelief. "But-But it's not me!"
Donna managed to grab hold of the console and spat out, "Where're we going?"
"Don't know, she's out of control!" He grit his teeth as even he struggled to maintain balance. All I could do was clutch onto the arm rest of the jump seat and hope for the best. I made a promise to myself to get seatbelts installed the moment I got the chance to bring it up to the Doctor.
"Doctor, listen to me, I'm not doing this again, take me home!" Martha pleaded, as the TARDIS continued to jolt us, sparks falling from above us. The Doctor grabbed a knob and attempted to twist it, sending more sparks flying down.
"What's it doing?!" Donna demanded with yelp, trying to protect her head from the sparks while maintaining her grip on the console.
"Controls aren't working-" The TARDIS gave an almighty lurch, sending the Doctor crashing into me. I let out a yelp and he apologized as he took note of his bubbling hand. "I have no clue where the Old Girl's sending us, but my hand's excited about it!"
Donna gaped at him as he grabbed a level with both hands and attempted to pull it back, putting a foot on the console for leverage. "Are you telling me it's yours?! I thought that was just some freaky alien thing!"
"Well…"
"It is an alien thing! It got cut off, and he just went and grew another one!" Martha explained.
"You are…completely…impossible!" Donna bit out.
The Doctor looked almost offended. "Not impossible!" He grunted as he strained against the lever, both feet now on the console as he struggled to pull it down. "Just…a bit unlikely!" Finally, he succeeded in pulling down the level. The TARDIS sparked on final time with the biggest, whiplashing shake yet, sending the Doctor tumbling into the jump seat next to me while Martha and Donna flew back onto the floor. The TARDIS made its signature 'thump' as it landed and the noise and chaos died down.
My ears rang in silence as we all breathed hard and looked at each other.
Abruptly, the Doctor jumped up at and ran to the door, grabbing his coat on the way out. Martha and Donna pick themselves up off the floor and, reluctantly, I got out of the jump seat and followed them…
…Into what looked like a scrapyard.
To Be Continued...
Poll: Decide the fate of Ross via shapes: Circle, Triangle, and Square. I'll let you know the results two chapters from now.
Explanations:
* I don't tend to say "you betcha" very often. I'm far more likely to say "I'll betcha (insert what I'm betting here)."
* The theme song for 'Ghostbusters' went something like this, "Who you going to call? Ghosterbusters! I ain't afraid of no ghosts."
* The 'High School Musical' trilogy is one of the childhood movies series I used to absolutely love watching on Disney channel. That and 'Halloween Town.' Be prepared for lots of show tunes from musicals, Pixar, and Disney. :)
* Tater is another word for potato.
* Uh-oh, looks like Penny screwed up! She's making the Doctor more suspicious of what she does and does not know. D:
* Yes, I injured the Doctor. Had you going there, didn't I? }:D
* The whole situation with Luke rather bother me. Yes, he was a complete and total butt-munch towards the beginning...but people tend to discredit his redemption at the end of the episode, and that gets my goat. I wanted to portray him in another light, make him more relatable.
* I hated that brown suit of his. Don't ask me why, I just didn't like it. I thought the blue looked better on him.
Advertisements:
TITLE: I'm A What Now?
AUTHOR: evilpinklollipop
ID: 10260014
SUMMARY: I'm lucky and, though not one hundred percent sure, I think I've just hit the jackpot. I don't know what the hell I did in my last life to deserve a second chance but here I was, alive and kicking. Now all I have to do is not die again.
OPINION: Okay, guys, if there was only one thing that I could ever ask you, it would be this, PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE signal boost this story! I thought it was so flippin' awesome, but the author hasn't updated since April, and I really, really like this story. Spam this story's review box, please, or, at the very least, check it out!
Thought Processes:
Another day, another chapter beta-read by our lovely Emptyvoices! :D A seriously wonderful person.
So, I have a message for one of you readers out there, specifically my only reader in Japan.
YOU ARE A WONDERFUL PERSON FOR CHECKING OUT MY STORY SO OFTEN!
Seriously, in my story stats, you are the only person in Japan reading this story, and unlike other viewers (who are still amazing and wonderful, don't get me wrong), you don't check out the story once or twice, but twenty-something times! It really makes me feel appreciated. :)
Oh, geez, please don't be creeped out by this.
It's just, you made your country fourth place in terms of views single-handedly, which is pretty impressive, just saying.
By the way, I have a question for everyone else reading this.
For countries whose main language is something other than English, how do you read this? Are you bi- or multi- lingual? Because, I'm barely able to speak English (my first any only language) properly, so that's pretty damn impressive. Do you use a Google translator or some other translating device if you only speak/read your own language?
Also, how did you guess even find this story? What brought you here and compelled you to read it in the first place? I'm curious!
Happy Wednesday,
FFA, the Fan Fictional Authoress
Date Submitted: Wednesday, October 1, 2014.