Chapter Three
-The TARDIS: Andrew's Bedroom-
He was depressed, he realized as he sat inside his small room. He was already depressed even in his own universe, he just never realized it before. And now, he had this problem. Stuck in another universe, away from everybody he had ever loved. He thought of Shelly, and her laugh.
But she's dead now, he thought bitterly. Her life was taken away in mere seconds, and nobody would know any different. At least in this universe. They didn't exist here. No, he didn't exist here.
Andrew felt the urge to cry, but he fought it down. He had to be strong. He was going to storm right out there, and...
No. He couldn't do that, not even to someone as infuriating as the Doctor.
The Doctor. The person who was fiction in his universe, actually exists. Which also meant the Time Lords existed, and if they were able to access every universe...
Andrew sighed, placing a hand on his head as he swayed on his bed. There was no use in worrying about such a trivial matter. For now, he had to focus on getting out of the Doctor's hands.
Tendrils of smoke curled up around him as he smoked another roll of marijuana, and he inhaled deeply. He felt guilty about it, but he knew it would at least dull the problems for now. When Andrew was younger, he would always tell himself that he would never do drugs. It was a complete, and utter lie. The first time he smoked marijuana, was when he was completely depressed in the dead of winter.
"You are nothing, and that is all you ever will be." He still remembered the words his potential crush had said to him, and it still hurt him to think about it. She had been absolutely beautiful, and she was always so kind...
"You don't deserve to have anyone, let alone happiness." She had slapped him in the face, leaving him to fester in his own misery in the middle of the street. He had often wondered where it had all gone so wrong, when everything had gone so terribly wrong. Of course, he believed her. Why wouldn't he? Her parents had died. He couldn't even begin to understand the pain of that, and she let him know that with her bare hand. Her words of venom and spite had ultimately broken down his mental defenses, and he spent the night wrapped in his sheets. Alone.
When he finally met Shelly, he had approached her with recklessness, eager to escape his tortured life style in which he never had anybody. He was twenty when he first met her. It was almost their one year anniversary. If only they hadn't decided to go to Paris, maybe then they would've actually been able to have more...
But he was still confused. Did he actually ever, really love Shelly? Sure, he still felt hurt when he found out from the Old Man that she died, but even so...
Perhaps she was just a placeholder for him? Something to devote things to, even though he didn't actually care about the person. No, scratch that. He did care about Shelly, he just didn't think he was actually in love with her...
Andrew clenched his fists. It was all a big fucking joke. This was all just a big prank, and everybody would jump out and say "Surprise!" as soon as he stepped out of the room.
Deep down, he knew that wasn't true, but he liked to have at least one glimmer of hope.
The Doctor, while appearing to be a good man, was really much more morally ambiguous to Andrew. Though, he really did seem to lean towards darkness at times, he also seemed to be... Though he hated to say it, heroic as well.
He was the ultimate predator, luring innocent people to his nest, only for them to die sooner or later.
Andrew felt his anger return in spades. How dare the Doctor basically abduct him off the street and say that he could never leave?
He will find a way out of this, and he will get back to his family.
Even if he kills himself in the process.
"Atleast that would fucking teach him to mess with Andrew Evans, the prick." He muttered to himself, rage unfolding beneath his calm exterior.
Andrew watched as the previously pristine white ceiling was stained brown with the smoke from his marijuana, and he rolled the stuff between his fingers. At least it was a reflective trip. He didn't take a lot of it, because he wanted to save just a bit. For Joel.
Oh, Joel. If he was here, he'd call Andrew an idiot for just staying all cooped up in his room. Joel, in this situation, would've already marched his way up to the Doctor and punched him in the face. But, Andrew didn't like to deal with things that way. He liked to be a lot more... subtle.
Andrew clutched the last bit of marijuana to his chest, and let out a warbly breath. His last piece of Joel...
Suddenly, the door burst open, and the Doctor was standing there. A look of surprise crossed his face before concern and rage appeared both at the same time.
"...Marijuana?" The Doctor asked, though it was most likely rhetorical, judging from the way he was sniffing the air like a bloodhound.
"I can explain," Andrew began, though the Doctor shushed him, a scowl on his face. The Doctor crossed his arms, and blocked the doorway, the Oncoming Storm apparent on his face.
"Give. The rest. To me." The Doctor said through a clenched jaw, and Andrew unconsciously took a step back, clutching the last bit left to his chest.
Not Joel, please.
"Please, I've got to keep this bit..." Andrew felt like crying.
The Doctor remained unfazed. "Nope. Give that to me, now."
Andrew, eyeing the doorway, took a chance. He bolted, legs lifting up, and...
He was suddenly held against the Doctor's chest, his last bit of marijuana plucked out his hands. The Doctor sniffed, before pulling him out into the corridor.
Andrew stood there guiltily for a bit, his eyes dropping down to the ground.
"Why? Why would you do marijuana?" The Doctor demanded to know in a hard tone, causing Andrew to wince.
"'Cause..." Andrew began, but didn't know how to actually talk about it. The Doctor raised an eyebrow, rubbing the back of his head.
"Andrew, even though I may seem like the most terrible person in the world right now, I actually do care about you-"
"You just met me!" Andrew yelled, wincing at the cracking in his voice. "How could you possibly, have any idea, what I'm like?" His voice had lowered to a near whisper, and his shoulders shook.
The Doctor sighed, before placing his hands on Andrew's shoulders.
"I used to be like you, when I was younger. Defiant, free, innocent. And then, things changed-"
"Yeah, I know. The Time War, the rise of the Daleks, blah blah blah. Same old story..." Andrew trailed off, cringing at the look of hurt in the Doctor's face at that sentence. Also, the fact that he just revealed he knew a little bit too much. Damn.
...
"How did you know that?" The Doctor demanded, his tone strained. His hands started to dig into Andrew's shoulders, and he struggled to get away.
"I asked, how did you know that?!" The Doctor yelled, and Andrew let out a yelp when the Doctor suddenly shoved him against the ground. His face was pale, and he was shaking.
Is he... Insane? What's going on here? The Doctor never acted like this on the show. He was always rather touchy, but never outright aggressive like that... That wasn't the Doctor that he just saw. It was... something else.
"Anyways!" The Doctor suddenly announced, back to his jovial self.
"You're banned from any more marijuana, Andrew. I don't want to ever hear the word "drug" from you again."
Andrew blinked, suddenly confused as to how they got back to the subject of his marijuana. Wasn't the Doctor just... really angry?
"Also, we're going to go out for lunch. I'm sure you're as starved as me." The Doctor grinned savagely, and Andrew felt his stomach lurch. This wasn't even like the fanfictions he had read about before. At least in those, the Doctor was still mentally stable. To hell with doing what the Old Man wanted, he was going to get out of here.
Andrew fought to resist a smile as he came up with a request for where they go for lunch. The Doctor didn't know he was from Canada yet, so hopefully this worked...
"Can we go eat in Toronto? I've always wanted to go." He lied through his teeth, fighting back his snickers when the Doctor readily agreed to it. It was the perfect plan.
They were going to eat in the Eaton Centre, which was the best location for his plan. Toronto had an underground network of pathways, all connecting parts of the city. It was practically an underground mall, one that was always filled with people.
It was also a labyrinth if you weren't careful, but Andrew knew the layout pretty well. He lived in Toronto, so he knew where to go.
He would run away as soon as the Doctor lost attention, and he would merge into the crowds, constantly switching as he traversed the wide pathways to reach the other side. The perfect plan.
But first...
"Hey Doctor, can I have that little bit of Marijuana back, please?"
The Doctor looked at him sharply, and Andrew swore he could hear a pin drop.
"I disposed of it already."
"But we were talking?" Andrew frowned, trying to remember when the Doctor turned around to do anything.
"I left halfway through, remember? Then, when I came back, you were as white as a sheet."
But... did that mean? Was it a hallucination, or was something else going on?
"Are you okay, Andrew? You look a bit sick. I have medication for that, you know."
"I'm fine," He replied curtly, brushing hair out of his face. He had bigger issues to worry about than his own sanity at the moment. Such as, the fact he just lost a piece of Joel.
"You just threw out... The only possession I had left from my best friend..."
The Doctor frowned. "Well, atleast he won't be doing drugs anymore..."
Andrew let out a strangled sob. "Doctor, he's dead."
Immediately, the Doctor's face changed to that of understanding, and he quickly moved to comfort Andrew.
"My friends are dead. They all died in that damned airplane explosion, the one that sent me... here." Andrew lifted his head a little, blinking to get rid of the tears starting to form in his eyes. He had to remain strong.
"It's okay, I understand. I know what it's like..." The Doctor shushed him, placing a comforting hand on Andrew's shoulder. His hand was... cold. Andrew grew uncomfortable under the sorrowful look the Doctor was giving him, and he quickly ducked down, moving down the hall a bit. He didn't feel like being pitied; he already had enough of that back in his own universe.
"Let's go." His voice was strained.
"...Okay." The Doctor said after a moments hesitation, before striding down the hall in a hurry towards the console room.
Andrew followed him a moment later, willing himself to forget what had just happened.
-Toronto: The Eaton Centre-
Several minutes later, they were both seated inside Toronto, Andrew nervously rubbing his hands together. This was it. A chance at escape, for freedom.
For freedom!
The large atrium seemed to be darker than usual, he noted. Perhaps this universe had a light problem? He chuckled a bit internally, eyeing the Doctor who was currently glancing over the food court boards.
"Britain has much better food than this," The Doctor sniffed, and Andrew found rage momentarily course through his veins. He sighed deeply, clenching his fists and unclenching them.
Why was he getting so worked up over what was an obvious joke? Perhaps he was just anxious to get out of there. Yes, that was it. He was anxious.
Though, it was a bit surreal to be sitting in a place he knew so well, with the Doctor. The Oncoming Storm, sitting at a foodcourt table. How humbling it must be.
"Oh, please. They don't have good poutine like we do here." Andrew coughed a little, as the Doctor looked over at a flash mob.
Good thing he had aspirin in his pocket! Andrew quickly slipped some into the Doctor's drink, who looked back at him sharply seconds after he yanked his hand back.
That was close.
"I've been meaning to ask you a question, Andrew." The Doctor's voice was unnervingly calm.
"What is this... question?" Andrew managed a forced smile. He was so close, now.
The Doctor tilted towards him, a grim look set upon his face. "How do you know who I am?"
Andrew froze, his hand hovering over his plate. "Did- didn't you ask me that earlier?"
A cruel smile appeared on the Doctor's voice, and his eyes narrowed. "I just thought that if I asked that again, I might get a different answer."
Andrew swallowed hard. This was way too difficult for him. If the Doctor catched him now... He couldn't bear to think of what may happen. But, he had to keep moving. He had to leave!
The Doctor plucked his glass off the table and, keeping eye-contact, started to chug the drink down.
Yes, yes, yes!
Suddenly, the entire table was overturned as the Doctor clutched his throat, his face pale.
This was his chance! Andrew quickly dodged around the table and sprinted away through the foodcourt, ignoring the questioning looks people were giving him.
Little shops passed him by as he ran through the underground pathways, the bleak white lights above flickering. He stumbled through crowds, and suddenly...
Eureka!
Tinfoil could act as a shield against the Sonic Screwdriver!
Swears spilled out of his mouth as he quickly stole a bunch from a stand convienently placed in the middle of the corridor, he stumbled his way through the remaining pathways.
He wrapped himself up in the crinkling mess (why did they have to be so loud?), and he finally climbed the staircase into daylight. Freedom.
Andrew gasped in air immediately, before storming down the street in a whirlwind of tinfoil, greasy hair, and worn out shoes.
He ran across half the city in thirty minutes. Wearing tinfoil.
Andrew was surprised the Doctor hadn't found him yet, maybe the tinfoil actually worked!
He was determined to leave the city, and leave the city he shall do. There was a whole country out there, one where he could forever hide in the wilderness, away. Away, from the Doctor.
If only he knew how much worse things would get.
A/N: Hello! Hope you guys enjoyed this chapter. Oh yeah, LEAVE A REVIEW! I want some constructive criticism. I want to know if you guys are actually enjoying this fanfiction. Tell me what I'm doing wrong. Please!
Oh, and... get ready for the next chapter. It's going to be a bumpy ride! Heh, heh, heh!