Chapter Seven
Everything was black. The Doctor could barely tell if he was awake or not. A large thump caused him to bang against something hard and he jumped in fright. His mind was so befuddled that it took him a while to register the hum of tires and an engine. He vaguely remembered his sonic screwdriver and reached a horrifically weak hand into the pocket of last night's pin striped trousers. He tried to shake his head clear, but it was no use, he was drugged, and he had no way of knowing if he would be able to run at all. He pressed the sonic screwdriver in the direction of the engine and the car jolted to a stop. Men's voices could be heard yelling, and the little girl, Lydie, wailed. The blue glow of the sonic screwdriver allowed him to see the edge of the trunk latch and he pressed it to it. It opened with a pop and he threw all the energy he had into pushing it up and climbing out.
He had been hoping to emerge into a crowded street. Unfortunately, he landed hard on the pavement of a deserted parking garage. He scrambled to his feet—it felt as though he had no bones. A vague tingle let him know that he still had some feeling, but his feet felt clumsy and overly large in the blue unlaced trainers he had pulled on not long ago.
"Now It's getting away."
"Not to worry."
There was a bang and a searing pain hit the back of his shoulder. He fell forward, scraping the side of his face against the pavement. He let out a sigh and blinked his unfocused eyes slowly.
A polished black boot met his line of vision. It moved to push his shoulder, causing a spasm of pain. The boot pushed his body until it had rolled him over onto his back. The Doctor gazed up at the man. Every cell in his body seemed weighted to the ground. He could smell the rubber and filth of the boot as it moved press against his cheek, shifting his gaze back to the car. Rich leaned out the car window. "Should remove the tracking device. Haxall will know."
"I'm one step ahead of you." The man opened what looked like a hunting knife.
Rose stopped in the center of the street and tore at her hair in frustration. She squeezed her eyes shut tight and thought as hard as she could. Where could he have gone? Was she being paranoid? Maybe they were out of milk and he ran to shop to get it. But why so sudden, and with the sonic screwdriver?
She spun suddenly when she heard someone approach from behind. It was the Doctor.
"Hallo, what are you doing out in the street?"
"Where'd you get those jeans?" Rose looked down at the rather new looking jeans and the plain black shirt he wore.
"Brand new, first time wearing it, what do'ya think?"
"I think the tags out."
He reached down behind him and drew out the tag. "Ah, cheeky bugger, hanging around back there." He drew out the sonic screwdriver and snapped the tag off.
"What were you doing out here? I was looking all over."
"Needed some air, that's all. Fancy a cuppa?" He reached a hand down and abruptly squeezed her buttock. She stared in surprise, hesitated, then followed him inside the flat.
The Doctor was rolled over and pressed to the pavement by the booted foot. The drugs he had been shot with were so effective it was not necessary for the foot to press so firmly on the back of his neck.
As the knife descended, the Doctor breathed deeply, his eyes wide in fear, waiting for the inevitable and wondering how he would cope.
When the cold blade finally made contact, he tried to scream but failed, only to gurgle softly, his eyes streaming. The knife dug between his shoulder blades until it twisted and popped something metal onto the ground. It landed with a chink in front of his eyes.
"A tracking device." He slurred, barely able to push the necessary breath from his lungs to create sound let alone form the words.
He could feel blood pooling between his shoulder blades, then sliding down the indentation of his spinal column to splay outward across either side of his ribs.
One of the men took his hands, while the other took his feet, and he wondered where they were taking him.
The toast slices sat in their allotted racks on the table and Rose put the jar of marmalade under the Doctor's nose, which he wrinkled.
"Don't we have any grape jelly?"
Rose did a double take. "Doctor, you've always loved it. That's your personal marmalade. I'm not even allowed to share that jar with you. Don't you remember writing that?"
She pointed to the large amount of writing scrawled hastily on the back in marker. "Authorized 4 personal use by Doctor in accordance w/ Shadw Proclamation & hereby decrees all other users 2 b subject 2 punishmnt by way of however said owner sees fit."
"Ah, yes of course." The Doctor nodded and began to spread the marmalade on his toast. Raising it to his lips, his bit into it, then gagged. "Sorry, sorry, just one of those things you know. I'm just off it now. Like you do with whatever you've eaten right before you get stomach flu. You know, I'm really not hungry after all."
The Doctor struggled to remain conscious as the men carried him through a dark corridor. "Judging by the cement, the dark, and the goosebumps on my arms, I'd say we are in a cellar? The cellar of a hospital, judging by the parking garage and the white walls. How'd you know it wouldn't be packed with people on a morning such as this? Moreover, why do you need it empty? You're hiding me, but why? Because you want me all to yourself? Nah, I don't think so. I think you two are hiding yourselves. What about that little girl though? Did you leave her all on her own in that car?"
"Norm, Shut it up."
"Mmm. Yes. I've heard that many times about this gob but mind you, I've never heard myself referred to as 'it.' Rather disrespectful I'd say. I may have once been an alien to you but I still had and have all the parts and features necessary for a male of most species really."
The two men's faces were set as though they had coached each other not to respond to the Doctor's verbosity.
The Doctor watched as the dim florescent lights passed above him. He could feel the blood dripping from his back onto the cement. He wondered if Rich would slip in it. The tranquilizer they had shot him with reduced his energy to fight, but he felt he might be have the energy left get to his feet and find the stairs should he get the chance. A fire extinguisher was held under glass nearby.
Finally, they lowered him to the ground. The Doctor let his arms flop where Norm had dropped them hoping to mislead him into thinking he was weaker than he was. Rich dug into his pocket and withdrew a key ring.
"Haxall's."
Norm took the key and fitted it into the door. The Doctor slowly inched his arm to his pocket and withdrew the sonic screwdriver. With one quick press of the button in the direction of the fire extinguisher, the glass shattered and the extinguisher set off, issuing plumes of white nitrogen. The Doctor scrambled to his feet as the men were blinded and confused, and took off gingerly down the hall.
Flying around the corner, he found a door to a stair well. Foam clung to his eyelashes, making it difficult to see clearly. He threw himself at the door and it opened swiftly. On reaching the top of the stair case, he burst out into a hall busy with nurses, doctors, and patients.
He imagined the paper headlines as he ran through the halls, dodging people and looking frantically for a phone. "Foamy looney streaks half naked through London hospital."
He skidded to a halt and slapped his slippery palms on the counter of a receptionist's desk. She stared.
"Yes," he snapped, irritated enough by the foam that covered him entirely. "I'm covered in extinguisher….stuff. More to the point, can I use your phone? Official… fire brigade… business." He wished he had thought to bring his psychic paper, then quickly realized that he probably would have also thought to bring a mobile and in which case, he most likely wouldn't be in this situation.
He snatched the phone from her hands, pressed his sonic screwdriver to it, and made the call.
"Sir, you're bleeding."
"Yes, I'm aware." He forced a smile at the receptionist then returned his attention to the phone pressed to his ear. "Come on, Rose." He said through gritted teeth.
Rose squirmed under the pressure of what she had thought was the Doctor. He held her pressed to the wall, one hand holding both of her wrists, the other holding the back of her neck, forcing himself upon her. He bent his head to her neck. She could hear and feel him sniffing as though taking in the scent of the blood that coursed within her jugular.
He pressed himself closer to her, and she could feel the threat between his legs as it sought her out.
"Are you a Slitheen?" She gasped, her knees buckling, held up only by his bruising grip. "You killed the Doctor and used his skin."
She vaguely registered that the phone was ringing. "Killed… him?" The words she had uttered echoed in her mind and his hand under her throat tightened. She gasped for air. The shock of the words she had uttered as well as her own restricted air, caused the room to blur and grow dark.
A/N: I seem to have gotten into the habit of ending chapters with a black out! Ah well, please review and let me know what you think so far. I think I have maybe three or four more chapters left… depends on how involved I get!