Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who or any of its characters/locations. I do own Carina and her part in the plot.
A/N: First off thanks to Ema, Guest and Kekyri for the reviews as well as those who followed and added it to their favorites. Second sorry for such the long gap between updates, I hope this satisfies.
Chapter 4: Evolutional Choices
Gaahhh! Flipping over, I stare at the strip of dull candle light spilling under the old wooden door. It has to be at least 2 in the morning. I've tried everything, even counting the number of cracks in the ceiling, 5392 to be exact. And still my brain won't shut off.
Should I have tried to save Lynley? Is it a fixed point in time? Would saving him have caused those sterilising creatures to turn up? Even if they didn't, the Carrionite's still would have found another way to kill him. But Dolly, an ordinary woman who happens to be in the wrong place at the wrong time, killed just because they could. She doesn't deserve to die, but then again no one does.
God I hate this, how does the Doctor do it? It's awful, I wish I didn't know. Swinging my legs over the edge of the bed, I can't stay in here anymore, not with these thoughts pinging back and forth around my skull. Tugging the boots on before the cold decides to bite off more than my toes I exit the room, closing the door silently behind me.
Wincing as a loud squeak emanates underfoot, right in front of the Doctor's door, I continue to carefully edge my way along the rest of the covered landing, passing the darkened rooms. The only room to have any signs of life is Shakespeare's.
I wonder how long it is until Dolly comes up? Maybe I can divert her for a few moments… NO! I need to leave before my emotions take control over my better judgement.
Leaning out over the railing, the crisp night breeze flutters the now loose strands of hair into my eyes. It's cold but not so cold that I'll have to stay indoors, and walking will warm me up. Tucking the strands behind my ears, I descend the stairs. There's enough light from the moon that I don't require a torch, but if that changes I've got my phone anyway.
Leaving the courtyard I make sure to keep clear of anyone else wandering the streets, not everyone will be as nice as Mr. Sutton. Keeping to the shadows I just wander, focusing on placing one foot in front of the other, ignoring the pounding thoughts yelling at me to turn around.
…
For the past few of hours I have just meandered aimlessly around 1599 London streets, looking at nothing in particular. My chaotic thoughts, having subsided from the constant crashing of waves against the cliff to a gently lapping on the sand, I head back toward the Elephant.
Turning the corner, the Elephant it just up ahead, blindingly bright compared to its neighbours in the slowly lightening sky. I guess it's happened then. I made the right decision. Yeah keep telling yourself that Carina, you might eventually believe it.
Shaking my head, I continue up the path with only the quiet clack of my boots accompanying me. Climbing the stairs I can hear voices coming from Shakespeare's room. Pausing at the threshold, the door sheet is blocking my view. Raising my hand, I quietly knock on the frame. Inside the voices stop and moments later the sheet is flung aside revealing the Doctor, his eyes slightly wide.
Stepping forward, letting the sheet fall behind him "Where have you been?" he asks.
"I couldn't sleep so I went for a walk." I reply backing up against the railing, his gaze piercing.
"It's dangerous to wander the streets at night, especially by yourself. I would have come with you and don't give me that look, you know I don't need much sleep."
"But I didn't… alright, I will next time. Happy?" I say, looking at his white converse clad feet.
"No." He replies. Glancing back up, what does he want me to say, that I'll never do it again?
"Well that's too bad, anyway why is everyone up so early, it's not even dawn yet?" I ask. Watching his face I see it droop fractionally.
"Dolly died." Geez Carina, Dolly died and here you are acting childish, asking the Doctor if he's happy, of course he's not happy.
"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't realise. What happened?" I ask resigned.
"She was so frightened that her heart couldn't handle it, giving out on her."
"Poor Dolly. Do you have any idea what could've scared her so badly?" I reply moving closer to him, already knowing the answer but asking anyway.
"Martha saw a witch flying away, but it can't be as simple as that, there's more to it, I can taste It." he replies frustrated. I can practically see the cogs turning, each spoke touching but unable to interlock.
"Besides there's no such thing as magic, just different evolutional choices" Shaking his head, "Come on, they'll be wondering who it is." he says turning, pushing the curtain aside for me to enter.
"Thanks. Do you think they're connected, Lynley and Dolly's deaths I mean?" I ask quietly as he drops the sheet after him
"Definitely, just not sure how yet." He replies just as quietly. Continuing further into the room "It's just Carina" he says speaking louder so Shakespeare and Martha can hear.
"Oh, okay" Martha replies sounding disappointed. Does she really dislike me that much? Oh well.
"Carina where did you get off to?" Shakespeare asks sounding much happier than Martha to see me.
"Just went for an early morning walk" I answer, pulling a chair up beside the Doctor, who's resting his head in his hands. "I'm sorry Will, the Doctor told me about Dolly"
"Oh, sweet Dolly Bailey. She sat out three bouts of the plague in this place when we all ran like rats. But what could have scared her so? She had such enormous spirit." He says taking his seat opposite us.
"Rage, rage against the dying of the light" the Doctor answers moving to lean on his now interlocked fingers.
"I might use that."
"You can't. It's someone else's" the Doctor replies.
"But the thing is, Lynley drowned on dry land, Dolly died of fright, and they were both connected to you." Martha says to Shakespeare.
"You're accusing me?" He replies.
"No, but I saw a witch, big as you like, flying, cackling away, and you've written about witches." She defends.
"I have? When was that?" Shakespeare questions, perplexed.
"Bit too early" I say at the same time as the Doctor says
"Not, not quite yet."
"Peter Streete spoke of witches." Shakespeare adds.
"Who's Peter Streete?" Martha asks.
"Our builder. He sketched the plans to the Globe." He replies.
"The architect. Hold on. The architect! The architect! The Globe!" the Doctor says, his voice getting higher with excitement. Slapping the table he jumps up, grabbing my wrist and dragging me with him out the door "Come on!"
…
"Running sure isn't something I'd recommend after a sleepless night" I mutter tiredly, sitting on the Globe's stage dangling my legs over the edge.
"The columns there, right? Fourteen sides. I've always wondered, but never asked. Tell me, Will. Why fourteen sides?" the Doctor asks from the audience, turning in a slow circle.
"It was the shape Peter Streete thought best, that's all. Said it carried the sound well." Shakespeare replies from behind and to the right of me on the stage.
"Fourteen. Why does that ring a bell? Fourteen."
"There's fourteen lines in a sonnent" Martha suggest from the stage as well, slightly closer to me than Shakespeare.
"So there is. Good point. Words and shapes following the same design. Fourteen lines, fourteen sides, fourteen facets." The Doctor says pacing before the stage "Oh, my head. Tetradecagon. Think, think, think! Words, letters, numbers, lines!" he continues, whacking himself on top of his head as if that'll somehow help him find the answers.
"This is just the theatre" Shakespeare declares.
"Oh yeah, but a theatre's magic, isn't it? You should know. Stand on this stage, say the right words with the right emphasis at the right time." The Doctor says walking toward the stage placing his arms on it, a metre from where I sit. "Oh, you can make men weep, or cry with joy. Change them." His face has changed as if he's just realised something but can't make it connect. "You can change people's minds just with words in this place. But if you exaggerate that."
"It's like your police box. Small wooden box with all that power." Martha states. Great, suck up to the Doctor why don't you? Stop it Carina you're going to be the bigger person.
Wriggling closer to the edge until I'm barely sitting on it, I know it's only about 1.5 metres off the ground, but it seems a lot higher. I've got this far, I'm not going to chicken out now. Pushing myself off, I drop the last few centimetres soundlessly, landing with my knees bent slightly. Glancing back it doesn't look that high now. Having ignored what was happening the last few moments I'm brought back by the mention of Bedlam.
"What's Bedlam?" Martha asks as I make my way closer to the Doctor, who is back in the centre of the Globe.
"Bethlem Hospital. The madhouse." Shakespeare answers.
"We're going there. Right now. Come on." The Doctor says before dashing out of the Globe. Having only just reached him, I don't even pause before I'm chasing after him.
I catch up just outside the Globe, him waiting for us to hurry up. As soon as I'm there he moves again, briskly walking. Matching his pace, Martha and Shakespeare are a little way behind, chatting, while the Doctor remains silent at my side.
"So, do you think we'll get anything out of Peter, he's been in there awhile, and what I've heard it's not a very nice place." I say, shivering at the idea that I'm going to be entering it any minute now.
"Hopefully, I'll try connecting to his mind if I need to" he states calmly.
"Oh okay" I reply quietly. Glancing back Martha and Shakespeare are nowhere to be seen behind us, they must have stopped. "Ah, Doctor?" I say grabbing his wrist to pull him to a halt beside me.
"What?" he asks, brows furrowed.
"Sorry, just Martha and Shakespeare aren't behind us" I point out releasing his wrist.
"Oh" realisation dawning on him. Turning, he heads back the way we came. Reaching the corner…
"But Martha, this is Town." I hear Shakespeare say to Martha.
"Flirting? Now of all times" I hear the exasperation in the Doctor's voice. Stalking toward them, "Come on. We can all have a good flirt later."
"Is that a promise, Doctor?" Shakespeare says looking the Doctor up and down.
"Oh…, fifty seven academics just punched the air. Now move!" the Doctor replies. I can't help but smile sprinting after him.
…
Finally reaching Bedlam, I really wish I hadn't come. Before we've even entered the hospital, the screams and wails assault us, becoming more concentrated the closer we get. The stench of fear and sweat permeates the air among other acrid smells. It's worse than I imagined, how they can call this a hospital, is beyond me. Trapped behind pointed iron bars, like a prison, tortured for entertainment, it's disgusting!
The rattle of chains and the pleas of the prisoners, I mean patients, is getting to me. Rubbing my hands on my jean legs to try to rid them of sweat, the beat of blood, frantically pounding in my ears, doesn't even dim the cries. You are not one of them Carina, you are not trapped. Focusing on the bottom hem of the Doctor's trench-coat, I trudge along after him. Not trapped, not trapped.
"Does my Lord Doctor wish some entertainment while he waits?" the Keeper asks in a monotonous voice. Flinching away as a patient claws at us through the bars, I move closer to the Doctor "I'd whip these madmen. They'll put on a good show for you. Mad dog in Bedlam." He finishes.
"No, I don't!" the Doctor answers stiffly.
"Well, wait here, my lords, while I make him decent for the ladies" the Keeper tells us continuing down the corridor.
"So this is what you call a hospital, yeah? Where the patients are whipped to entertain the gentry? And you put your friend in here?" Martha accuses.
"Oh, it's all so different in Freedonia." Shakespeare retorts.
"But you're clever. Do you honestly think this place is any good?"
"I've been mad. I've lost my mind. Fear of this place set me right again. It serves its purpose." Shakespeare defends.
"Mad in what way?" Martha asks sceptically.
"You lost your son." the Doctor says.
"My only boy. The Black Death took him. I wasn't even there." Shakespeare answers solemnly.
"I didn't know. I'm sorry." Martha apologises
"It made me question everything. The futility of this fleeting existence. To be or not to be. Oh, that's quite good."
"You should write that down." the Doctor suggests.
"Maybe not. A bit pretentious?" Shakespeare questions.
During this brief pause, I've been counting trying to calm my galloping heart, but it's not working. It's not the same, not the same.
"Carina? Are you all right?" jumping at the Doctor's light touch, I look up at him.
"Yep, yep fine" I say just that bit too quickly. Narrowing his eyes I know he noticed, but I'm spared from saying anymore with the return of the Keeper.
"This way, my lord!"
Continuing along the corridor, it keeps getting narrower, slowly pushing in on me with every step. The air's getting thinner, there's not enough oxygen. My breaths are shallow and rapid, not noticeable yet unless specifically looking. Clang! Jerking my eyes up, we've entered the cell, the Keeper locking us in. No, no, no, no! I'm trapped. There's no escape. I'm never getting out!
Gripping the bars, my knuckles straining white against the skin, I try to picture home. Home home, back in Australia, before everything happened. Sun shining bright, cool, fresh breeze fluttering my hair. But I'll never again be able to taste the clean air or feel the sun warm my skin, locked in this prison. Flashing my eyes open, the image is shattered, reality, a stone thrown through the freedom window, the shards slicing away any hopes of escape.
"Peter? Peter Streete?" the Doctor's voice sounds distant. Why is he so far away? Is he going without me again, leaving me trapped? I crumble inside, the mortar disintegrating, the brick crashing to the ground. Staring sightlessly, there are words being said but they make no sense, only the tones provide any clarity.
"He's the same as he was. You'll get nothing out of him." Shakespeare's husky voice says.
"Peter, I'm the Doctor. Go into the past. One year ago. Let your mind go back. Back to when everything was fine and shining. Everything that happened in this year since happened to somebody else. It was just a story. A Winter's Tale. Let go. That's it. That's it, just let go." The Doctor's calm controlled voice says before continuing, slightly deeper "Tell me the story, Peter. Tell me about the witches."
"Witches spoke to Peter. In the night, they whispered. They whispered. Got Peter to build the Globe to their design. Their design! The fourteen walls. Always fourteen. When the work was done they snapped poor Peter's wits." An unknown quavering male voice says.
"Where did Peter see the witches? Where in the city? Peter, tell me. You've got to tell me where were they?" the Doctor says.
"All Hallow Street." The unknown male says.
"Too many words." A new voice hisses, I think it's female.
"What the hell?" a shocked female voice says, Martha's possibly.
"Just one touch of the heart." The hissing voice says.
"No!" the Doctor yells.
"Witch! I'm seeing a witch!" calls Shakespeare's voice.
"Now, who would be next, hmm? Just one touch. Oh, oh, I'll stop your frantic hearts. Poor, fragile mortals." Says the hissing voice that reminds me of a witch
"Let us out! Let us out!" Martha cries, shaking the iron bars, sending vibrations up through my hands. Letting go, I understood what she said, we're all trapped.
"That's not going to work. The whole building's shouting that." The Doctor speaks again. Gasping for air, I crouch, leaning back against the wall.
"Who will die first, hmm? How about her? Put her out of her misery." The Witch says.
"Who? NO! If you're looking for volunteers." The Doctor says.
"No! Don't!" Martha says.
"Doctor, can you stop her?" Shakespeare says.
"No mortal has power over me." The Witch says.
"Oh, but there's power in words. If I can find the right…" The Doctor voice dissipates. I can't hear, there nothing, everything dissolving into blackness.
A/N: Thanks for reading. This was the beginning of a larger chapter, but it felt too long so I stopped it here. Please don't hate me for it. Also I'm trying to think of some nicknames for Carina to have in future chapter, so any suggestions would be appreciated. Hopefully I'll have the next chapter up soon.
Until next time
Salexa