Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who
Hide – Part One
On a dark and stormy night, four people under two umbrellas hurried up to the steps of a large manor. Taking shelter beneath the archway of the doors, they closed their umbrellas and the Doctor knocked several times on one of the wooden doors, ushering his companions to hide behind the wall. When the door was opened, he waited all of five seconds before stepping out from behind the other door. "Boo!" he laughed, "Hello, I'm looking for a ghost".
"And you are?" the man inquired. Clara stepped out, along with Laura and Charlotte, and replied with a grin, "Ghostbusters".
"I'm the Doctor" the Time Lord introduced himself, holding up the psychic paper.
"Doctor what?"
"If you like; and this is Clara, Charlotte and Laura" he added, pointing to each of his companions in turn before pushing past the man and into the house. His companions offered apologetic shrugs as they followed the Doctor, who had run over to the table of equipment like a child in a candy store. "Ah, but you are very different. You are Major Alec Palmer Member, of the Baker Street Irregulars, the Ministry of Ungentlemanly Warfare, specialised in espionage, sabotage and reconnaissance behind enemy lines".
The Major didn't look exactly pleased with the praise, but the Doctor didn't seem to notice. "You're a talented watercolourist, professor of psychology and ghost hunter" he beamed happily, shaking the man's hand and assuring him it was a "Total pleasure, massive".
"Actually, you're wrong" said the young woman working with the Major, "Professor Palmer spent most of the war as a POW".
"Actually, that's a lie told by a very brave man involved in very secret operations" the Doctor replied, "The type of man who keeps a Victoria Cross in a box in the attic, eh?" He gave Palmer a conspiratorial wink and nudge, before turning to his assistant. "But you know that, because you're Emma Grayling, the Professor's companion".
"Assistant" she corrected.
"It's 1974, you're the assistant and 'non-objective equipment' – meaning psychic" he told his companions.
"Getting that" Clara nodded, "Bless you, though".
Charlotte smiled at the Professor and Emma and said "It's nice to meet you. Also, sorry about him, he gets over-excited; hasn't taken his meds yet" she joked.
"Oi!" the Doctor exclaimed indignantly, "I don't have meds".
"Sorry" Charlotte said uncontritely, suppressing a grin.
"Relax, Emma" Palmer reassured his assistant, "He's military intelligence. So, what is all this in aid of?" he demanded.
"Health and safety" the Doctor announced, "Yeah, the Ministry got wind of what's going on down here, sent me to check that everything's in order".
"They don't have the right" Palmer insisted.
"Don't worry, guv'nor, I'll be out of your hair in five minutes" the Doctor reassured him a bit flippantly, before grinning and pointing at one of the machines. "Oh! Oh, look. Oh, lovely. The ACR 99821" he told his companions, "Oh, bliss. Nice action on the toggle switches. You know, I do love a toggle switch. Actually, I like the word 'toggle'. Nice noun. Excellent verb" He slapped Clara's hand away from the controls, "Oi, don't mess with the settings".
Charlotte coughed "Hypocrite" as the Doctor walked past. He pretended not to hear her and instead pulled out his sonic screwdriver, scanning the room along with Alec and Emma.
"What's that?" asked the Major.
"Gadget; health and safety - Classified, I'm afraid. You know, while the back room boffins work out a few kinks" the Doctor replied, scanning a darkened archway.
"What's it telling you?" asked Clara.
"It's telling me that you haven't been exposed to any life-threatening transmundane emanations" he explained, before spinning on his heel and asking, "So, where's the ghost?" He picked up a candelabra, "Show me the ghost. It's ghost time".
/
Lightning and thunder crashed outside the house, as the six ghost-hunters made their way through the corridors, the Doctor leading the way. Professor Palmer followed right behind him, insisting that "I will not have this stolen out from under me, do you understand?"
"Err, no, not really, sorry".
"I will not have my work stolen, then be fobbed off with a pat on the back and a letter from the Queen. Never again. This is my house, Doctor, and it belongs to me".
"This is actually your house?" Clara asked in surprise.
The Major confirmed, "It is".
"Sorry. You went to the bank and said, 'you know that gigantic old haunted house on the moors? The one the dossers are too scared to doss in? The one the birds are too scared to fly over?' And then you said 'I'd like to buy it, please, with my money'".
"Yes, I did, actually".
"That's incredibly brave" said Clara, impressed.
Laura nodded in agreement. "I'll say" she remarked; just the thought of staying here overnight creeped her out a bit, let alone the thought of living here. Especially knowing there was a creature skulking about; something creaked and she shuddered a bit.
"Listen, Major" the Doctor told him, "we just need to know what's going on here".
"For the Ministry" he guessed.
"You know I can't answer that".
"…Very well. Follow me".
/
Palmer led them to a living room. The Doctor picked up a camera and snapped a picture – of himself, leading Charlotte to quip, "Congratulations, you've just taken the world's first selfie, and it's still pointless".
The Doctor just smirked and tapped her on the nose. They both wandered over to Laura, Clara and Emma. "So, what's an empathic psychic?" Clara asked Emma, the latter having described herself as one.
"Sometimes I sense feelings, the way a telepath can sense thoughts. Sometimes, though. Not always" Emma explained modestly.
"The most compassionate people you'll ever meet, empathics" the Doctor smiled, "And the loneliest. I mean, exposing themselves to all those hidden feelings, all that guilt, pain and sorrow and"-
Charlotte placed a hand over his mouth. "Shut up" she suggested, before saying to Emma, "As you can see, our friend isn't empathic. Genius when it comes to facts, idiot when it comes to feelings. Again, sorry about this".
Emma smiled and assured her, "That's quite alright", but her smile didn't quite reach her eyes. The Doctor realised he'd hurt her feelings, but before he could fumble through a hasty apology, Palmer asked "Would you err, care to have a look?"
The Doctor moved over to the corkboard at once; Emma and his companions followed, curious. It was covered in photographs and notes, like one would see in a detective movie. "Caliburn House is over four hundred years old, but she has been here much longer. The Caliburn Ghast" Palmer explained, as they looked over the myriad of photographs of the ghost. "She's mentioned in local Saxon poetry and parish folk tales; The Wraith of the Lady, the Maiden in the Dark, the Witch of the Well".
"Is she real?" asked Clara, "As in, actually real?"
"She's real" Palmer replied with confidence, "l. In the seventeenth century, a local clergyman saw her. He wrote that her presence was accompanied by a dreadful knocking, as if the Devil himself demanded entry. During the war, American airmen stationed here left offerings of tinned Spam. The tins were found in 1965, bricked up in the servants' pantry, along with a number of handwritten notes. Appeals to the Ghast. 'For the love of God, stop screaming'".
Laura cringed a bit in fear; Charlotte put an arm around her and smiled supportively, having noticed her less than thrilled expression. Clara was rather creeped out as well, but something about the photos had grabbed her attention. "She never changes" Clara realised, comparing the 'ghost' in each shot. "The angle's different, the framing, but she's always in exactly the same position. Why is that?"
"We don't know" Alec admitted, "She's an objective phenomenon, but objective recording equipment can't detect her".
"Without the presence of a powerful psychic" the Doctor finished for him.
Palmer replied, "Absolutely; very well done".
Emma stared at the ghostly images and gasped. "She knows I'm here. I can feel her calling out to me".
"What's she saying?" asked Clara.
"…Help me".
Something whisked past the open doorway; Clara sensed it and looked over her shoulder a bit, but there was nothing there.
The Doctor held the candelabra to the photos, somehow avoiding setting them alight, and murmured "The Witch of the Well. So where's the well?"
"A copy of the oldest plan that we could find" Palmer described, showing the Doctor a sheet laid out on a low table, "There is no well on the property; none that we could find, anyway".
Whilst the Doctor studied the plans of the house, Charlotte, Clara and Laura looked over the photos and talked amongst themselves. "So…what do you think she is?" asked Clara, "Or who, I suppose".
"Well, there's no denying that she's…consistent, at least" Charlotte noted, "But if you ask me, that's just more reason to doubt that she's actually a ghost". She sighed and admitted, "If I'm – we're – being honest…we can't tell you".
Clara looked confused for a moment; then her eyes widened in realisation. Before she could ask if this adventure was another episode her fellow companions had seen, the Doctor tapped her on the head and she jumped. He grinned excitedly at them and whispered, "You coming?"
"Where?" hissed Clara.
"To find the ghost" he replied.
"I'm in" said Charlotte; the alternative would be staying on her own or with strangers in a large, drafty, creepy house. Laura agreed for more or less the same reason.
Clara was less convinced. "Why would I want to do that?" she asked.
"Because you want to" the Doctor insisted, "Come on" he said, starting to leave.
"Well, I dispute that assertion" Clara said stubbornly, staying put.
"Eh? I'm giving you a face" he said, jerking his head towards the door, "Can you see me? Look at my face".
Clara sighed, realising he wasn't going to let up. "Fine" she said, walking up to him, "Dare me".
"I dare you. No takesies backsies" said the Doctor. Clara nodded, and took the candelabra from him. As the four of them left, Emma said "The music room is the heart of the house".
Clara, the Doctor, Laura and Charlotte walked in pairs down the corridor. "Where is the music room?" Laura wondered.
"That's what we're going to find out" the Doctor averred.
"I like Emma, she's nice" Charlotte remarked, "but what is it with psychics and being cryptic?"
"I think it's part of the job description" the Doctor joked, and they chuckled.
"Say we actually find her. What do we say?" asked Clara.
"We ask her how she came to be…whatever she is".
"Why?"
"Because I don't know, and ignorance is, um, what's the opposite of bliss?"
"Carlisle?"
"Yes! Yes, Carlisle. Ignorance is Carlisle" the Doctor agreed. Laura glanced over her shoulder just in time to see…something…slinking into the shadows behind him; she looked away and tried to ignore it. They came to a room, but on further inspection it proved to be a kitchen. They looked around the darkened room, the flickering candlelight and occasional lamp the only source of illumination.
"Why can't we just turn on the lights?" asked Charlotte, "There were lamps on in the living room, so he has electricity".
"Because, that would spoil the atmosphere" the Doctor asked, "Where's your sense of adventure?"
"I left it in the TARDIS" she deadpanned.
"I'd like the lights on as well" Laura admitted.
"Look, guys, everything's fine. There's nothing to be scared of".
"There wouldn't be if the lights were on" Charlotte muttered, before sighing, "Fine".
The Doctor grinned over his shoulder at her. "That's the spirit – speaking of spirits, where are you, ghost?" he wondered aloud, looking forward again, "Here, ghost".
/
They soon found the right room; the large harp was a pretty big giveaway. "Ah, the music room" the Doctor noted, "The heart of the house…Do you feel anything?" he asked them.
"No…" Clara said slowly.
"Your pants are so on fire" the Doctor teased her. He started scanning the room with the sonic, and it stuttered. He bashed it lightly against his palm, trying to get it to work. Clara looked around nervously and whispered, "Do you feel like you're being watched?"
"What does being watched feel like?" the Doctor asked, "Is it that funny, tickly feeling on the back of your neck?"
"That's the chap".
"Then yes, a bit; well, quite a big bit" the Doctor admitted, smiling as if it were fun. Clara heard something creaking, the floorboards perhaps, but she felt like something was there…
"Psst!" Charlotte hissed, beckoning to them, "Check this out". She stepped backwards and breathed out, her breath fogging up.
The Doctor walked over and stepped in the space as well, his own breath becoming visible. "Cold spot, spooky; well done, Charlotte" he smiled at her, stepping back and forth out of the circle. "Cold, warm, cold, warm, cold, warm, cold, warm, cold…"
"We get it, Doctor" said Laura, more amused than annoyed. He stopped and pulled a piece of chalk out of his pocket, kneeling down and drawing a circle around the cold spot.
"Doctor?" whispered Clara, still hearing something creaking, "Doctor!"
"What?"
"I'm not happy".
The Doctor scanned the cold spot and agreed, "No…" – before walking out of the door that the cold spot was in front of.
"Come on, Clara" Laura beckoned to her, and they hurried to catch up with the Time Lord. Charlotte briefly considered getting the Doctor to go back and check out the smoking circle, but she figured he was going to find out about it eventually. The four of them pulled up short in a narrow corridor, at a loud clanging noise that reverberated throughout the house.
"What was that?" asked Clara. The banging happened again, twice, and a sudden breeze blew out the candles. Fortunately, a latticed window nearby meant the darkness wasn't total, and they could just about see each other. Laura shivered and whispered, "Can we light them up again, please?"
The Doctor blew on his hands to try and warm them. "I don't have any matches" he admitted. The temperature was definitely dropping, and ice started to form on the inside of the windows.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
"Okay, what is that?" Clara asked again.
"It's err, a very loud noise" the Doctor informed them, "It's a very loud, very angry noise".
"What's making it?"
"I don't know, are you making it?"
Bang! Bang!
They all flinched. "Whoever's making it, I wish they'd shut up" Charlotte muttered. She felt something in her hand and stiffened. "Laura?"
"Yeah?"
"Are you holding my hand?"
Laura held her empty palms up and shook her head, "No!"
Charlotte looked down and saw that nobody was holding her hand; so what had she felt?
The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck, the hairs standing on end, and asked "Does anyone else feel like they're being watched again?"
His companions nodded nervously. "Um, maybe we should move on" Laura suggested. The Doctor nodded in agreement, but none of them made any move to, well, move… all eyes turned to the shadowy corridor behind them…
"I don't like this" Charlotte breathed; suddenly there was a flash of lightning outside, and they caught a glimpse of a crouching thing lurking right behind them. It was only a glimpse, because they promptly screamed and ran for it, down the stairs and back to the entrance hall. They arrived just in time to see a concave black disc, gyrating in mid-air.
"Has this happened before?" the Doctor asked, trying to scan it.
"Never" replied Palmer.
"Camera, camera!" the Doctor prompted, taking the professor's camera and snapping pictures of the black disc, which was starting to break apart. Emma wasn't looking at the disc; she stared at the archway, gasping as a vision appeared, a blurry figure in the woods...Clara looked round, noticed the figure and cried, "Doctor!"
They all turned, the Doctor taking pictures of the wailing figure instead. A woman's voice cried, "Help me!" - right before Emma collapsed into Alec and the Doctor's arms.
"Look!" Laura gasped, pointing at the wall. Ghostly writing had appeared, 'HELP ME' written above the staircase. The Doctor approached them to investigate, but they dissolved and the revolving, shattered disc shrank down and vanished.
/
The Doctor went with Palmer to develop the photos he'd taken, whilst his companions stayed with Emma in the living room. Clara poured Emma and herself a glass of whisky to try and calm her nerves; the other two declined; although Emma spat it out in the end. "Urgh" she grimaced, "I'd rather have a nice cup of tea".
"Me too" Clara decided, "Whisky is the eleventh most disgusting thing ever invented".
"What's the first?" Charlotte inquired, half-jokingly.
"Smoking" Clara replied, completely serious. All of them had to nod in agreement to that. Clara busied herself making tea, but she couldn't resist asking, "So, you and Professor Palmer, have you ever…you know?"
Emma sighed a bit. "No" she admitted.
"Why not?" asked Clara, surprised, "You do know how he feels about you, don't you? You, of all people?"
"I don't know" Emma sighed, explaining "People like me, sometimes we get our signals mixed up. We think people are feeling the way we want them to feel, you know, when they are special to us, when really there's nothing there".
"Oh, this is there" Clara nodded confidently, giving her a cup of tea.
"How do you know?"
"Because it's obvious; it sticks out like a big chin" Clara insisted.
"I think he likes you" Laura commented. She knew he did, but of course she couldn't mention that. "You should talk to him about it" she suggested.
Emma looked doubtful. "I'm not sure that would help…I have tried bringing it up, but he's always…too busy".
"Yeah, that's the trouble with men" Charlotte remarked, "It's not that they don't have feelings, it's more like they don't know what to do with them – but hey, think of it this way. If he keeps avoiding the subject, at least that means he's aware of it. Aware of his feelings…and he can't avoid it forever. You just have to be persistent" she smiled encouragingly. Emma smiled back…she could sense that Charlotte and Laura knew more than they were letting on, but she appreciated the encouragement all the same.
"What about…are any of you, and the Doctor…?" she asked cautiously.
Laura and Charlotte shook their heads, as did Clara. "Oh, I don't think so" she denied it at once.
"Good" said Emma, not meeting their eyes.
"Sorry?"
"Don't trust him" Emma warned, "There's a sliver of ice in his heart".
"Yeah, there is" Charlotte agreed at once, before asking pointedly, "Why?"
Emma didn't have to be an empathic to tell how Charlotte was feeling. She looked at the young woman apologetically and answered, "It's just what I sense…I don't know why".
"Exactly" Charlotte said bluntly. She walked towards the door; Clara was about to ask her where she was going, when the Doctor called to them from down the hall.
They ran underneath umbrellas, through the driving rain to the TARDIS. "I've got this weird feeling it's looking at me" Clara muttered to the Doctor, "It doesn't like me".
"The TARDIS is like a cat" he assured her, "A bit slow to trust, but you'll get there in the end". He ran up to the TARDIS; Charlotte followed, holding the door open after he'd unlocked it. She could feel it trying to close and gestured, with a jerk of her head, for the other two to hurry up and get inside.
Clara looked around for somewhere to hang the umbrellas. "Hey. You need a place to keep these" she remarked, holding up the red umbrella.
"I've got one" the Doctor replied, "Or I had one. I think I had one. Look around. See if you find it. Did I have one? Am I going mad?"
"You had one" said Charlotte, "And now you don't, and do you really want that last question answered?"
"No" he decided, before noticing Clara shaking the water off the umbrella. "No, not in here" he scolded, "How do you expect her to like you? She's soaking wet. It's a health and safety nightmare".
Clara glanced up at the ceiling and whispered, "Sorry" she whispered, just to be on the safe side. The TARDIS gave a mechanical groan; was it just her imagination or did the box actually sound annoyed? Clara asked, "So, where are we going?"
"Nowhere" the Doctor answered, "We're staying right here. Right here, on this exact spot, if I can work out how to do it".
"That's encouraging" Charlotte quipped; the Doctor ignored her.
"So, when are we going?" asked Clara.
"Oh, that is good" the Doctor grinned, giving her a high five, "That is top-notch".
"And the answer is?"
"We're going always!" he announced, going down a set of steps.
"We're going always" Clara repeated.
"Totally!" he replied.
"That's not actually a sentence" she protested.
"Well, it's got a verb in" the Doctor reasoned, holding up a garish orange environment protection suit. "What do you think?"
"Do we have to wear one?" asked Charlotte.
"No…"
"Then it looks great" she smirked sarcastically.
"Colour's a bit boisterous" Clara remarked.
"I think it brings out my eyes" said the Doctor.
"Makes my eyes hurt" she retorted, and he sighed. At least he liked the colour… the Doctor materialised them and got into his suit, with a little assistance (not much though, he wasn't so un-coordinated that he couldn't put a spacesuit on by himself), and gave his companions strict instructions not to leave the TARDIS. Considering they were billions of years in the past, when the Earth was still molten, none of them disagreed.
The Doctor went out into the burning landscape, took a picture on the Nikon (he'd sonicked it earlier, to increase its durability) and came back inside. "Back off" he warned, waving them away, "Hot suit. Hot, hot, hot" – he wasn't kidding, the suit was literally smoking.
"When are we?" Clara inquired curiously.
"About six billion years ago. It's a Tuesday, I think" the Doctor replied, setting them off again. It was like a Cliff Note's tour of the history of planet Earth – they went to the Carboniferous Era and saw giant dragonflies, all the way through the eons to Victorian times. Caliburn House looked almost inviting in the daylight, and they ended up having a picture taken on the front steps.
Eventually, the Doctor clambered back into the environment suit. "Back in a mo" he said, opening the door, "Are you alright, Clara?"
She looked round and replied, "Totally, peachy keen".
"Okay then. Well, don't press any buttons or pull any levers or make any funny faces. Actually, don't move. Stand completely still. Don't breathe. Well, you can breathe, but shallow breaths" the Doctor rambled. Clara raised an eyebrow slightly and gave him a thumbs up, in more of a 'sure, whatever you say' kind of way. The Doctor returned the gesture and then left, shutting the door behind him.
"Are you sure you're alright?" asked Laura, as Clara walked over to the scanner.
"Yeah, fine" she replied distractedly. It was a wasteland outside, reddened and scorched, rubble on the ground and a burning sun hanging in the orange sky. Charlotte found herself wondering if the landscape reminded the Doctor of Gallifrey, during the War… she couldn't wait until they got to the Day of the Doctor, if they stuck around that long.
Clara sighed sadly, at the sight of the devastation. The Doctor came back inside, pulling off his helmet and walking up to the console. He noticed Clara's expression as she stared at the scanner and asked, "What's wrong?"
She didn't answer.
"Did the TARDIS say something to you?" he guessed, slapping a glove on the console and asking the machine, "Are you being mean?"
"No, it's not that" said Clara, not wanting to get on the apparently sentient time-ship's bad side even more. "Have we just watched the entire life cycle of Earth, birth to death?"
"Yes".
"And you're okay with that?" she asked incredulously, "All of you?"
"…Yes…" the Doctor replied slowly. Laura and Charlotte simply shrugged.
"How can you be?"
"I don't like to see the Earth die, either" said Laura, "but…well, everything dies, eventually".
"Yeah, and coming from where we do, it kind of gives us a different perspective" added Charlotte.
Clara supposed that knowing what would happen, even a little bit, would make one see things in a different light. She looked at the Doctor expectantly, wanting an answer from him as well. He gestured at the time machine they were standing in. "The TARDIS, she's time – we -wibbley vortex, and so on" he rambled, trying to articulate a reply and failing.
"That's not what I mean".
"Okay, some help" he prompted, "Context? Cheat sheet? Something?"
"I mean, one minute you're in 1974 looking for ghosts, but all you have to do is open your eyes and talk to whoever's standing there. To you, we haven't been born yet, and to you we've been dead one hundred billion years. I don't know about Charlotte and Laura, but is my body out there somewhere, in the ground?" asked Clara, gesturing at the scanner.
"Yes, I suppose it is" the Doctor admitted, not really wanting to talk about it. He went to put his suit away.
"But here we are, talking. So I am a ghost. To you, I'm a ghost" Clara stated, and he stopped at the top of the steps. "We're all ghosts to you. We must be nothing".
"No" the Doctor told her over his shoulder, "No, you're not that".
"Then what are we?" she demanded, "What can we possibly be?"
The Doctor stopped at the bottom of the steps and told her, "You are the only mystery worth solving". On that confusing note, he left to take off his suit and stow it away.
Clara wandered back over to her friends, and asked "What do you think he means, mystery?"
"Dunno" Charlotte shrugged.
"Are you saying that because you don't know, or because you can't tell me?"
"Don't feel bad, Clara" Laura deflected the conversation, "You are important to the Doctor. We all are".
"I know" Clara acknowledged, "It's just…the way he looks at me sometimes, it's like he's not really seeing me at all".
Laura didn't know what to say, so she just settled for giving Clara a hug. The Doctor returned and they went back to Caliburn House, 21st century. Emma picked up on Clara's sadness straight away; she placed a comforting hand on Clara's shoulder and asked gently, "What's wrong?"
"I just saw something I wish I hadn't".
"What did you see?"
"That everything ends…"
"No, not everything" Emma assured her, looking wistfully over at Alec, "Not love. Not always".