Chapter Five
WARNING: Descriptions of graphic violence ahead. You have been warned. ~soultrain21.
-TARDIS: Med-Bay-
Andrew awoke slowly to a harsh, grating sound. The TARDIS. Why did it sound so... sick? Disturbed? Horrified?
Oh... no.
Andrew felt his heart-rate quicken as he tried to move his arms and realized he was strapped down to a medical bed. With no sheets.
He winced as the straps roughly rubbed against his skin in his attempts to move from his position.
"Oh, how good! You're awake!" The Doctor cheerfully said nearby in a monotone voice, and Andrew shuddered.
"Why the fuck am I strapped down to a bed?" He angrily spat out, muscles tensed up.
The Doctor laughed but never let his eyes leave Andrew's. "Oh, I think you know the reason why. You see, after you pulled that little stunt with the aspirin back in that foodcourt, I was dying. And so, you know... I had to... fix myself up!" He grinned, and his teeth radiated red.
"What the hell is... that?" Andrew asked, sick to his stomach.
The Doctor let his smile drop to a frown, and he crossed his arms. "Oh, this silly old red stuff? That's just the aftermath of what the aspirin did to me! Oh man, was there a lot of bloodstains I had to clean up!" The Doctor crossed the room and paused infront of Andrew's bed, glancing over his strapped down body.
He smiled wickedly, before continuing. "But, you see, my dilemma is that I'm missing one teensy weensy ingredient for me to be fully alive again. Tell me, Andrew... What would you do if you had two hearts you absolutely needed to survive, and then one of them just stopped working... What would you do?"
Andrew felt his heart jump in his throat (no pun intended), and he weakly answered; "...Go to the doctor's office?"
The Doctor leaned in close to Andrew's face, and- while still smiling that horrific grin -said "Oh, Andrew. You're in the Doctor's office right now!"
Andrew felt himself quiver as the Doctor stood up straight again. "Oh. My. God. You mean you're going to... Cut out my heart?"
The Doctor laughed, a deep, guttural and primal sound, before leaning close to his ear. "Yes. And I will enjoy every second of it." The Doctor opened his mouth this time, showing his blood stained teeth.
"What are you?! You aren't the Doctor! The Doctor would never do something as cruel as this! You're just going to... kill me and throw me in a supernova or something!" Andrew shrieked, struggling against his restraints.
The Doctor hummed, before using his sonic to tighten the straps. "Andrew! Don't struggle. Oh, and by the way..." He cracked his knuckles. "Doctor Who is an interesting name for a television show, don't you think?"
Andrew gasped, his eyes growing wide. "How did you find that out?!"
"Oh, I simply searched your mind while you were asleep. My, my. A whole universe of psychic energy? What fun!"
Andrew gritted his teeth. "You... you leave my universe alone! You hear? It's none of your concern there!"
The Doctor hummed again. "Oh, but I think it is Andrew. You see, Andrew, if that universe isn't properly protected and contained, there could be terrible side effects."
"My universe has been perfectly fine for all those years."
The Doctor swiped his tongue over his lips, and Andrew shrivelled in disgust. "Oh, but something could happen. A Dalek could land there, perhaps even a cyberman. You see, it's my responsibility to contain it... but enough talk of that. Now, it's time for your medical procedure!"
Andrew felt his face go pale as the Doctor approached him with a knife, still grinning wickedly.
"Oh, it's going to be okay. You're a man, you don't need anesthesia, you're perfectly strong!" The Doctor yelled the last part as he plunged the knife deep into Andrew's chest.
Andrew screamed, feeling his blood spurt out from his chest. The Doctor was having a complete emotional breakdown. He was having a rage-induced freakout.
The Doctor laughed again before pulling the knife out slowly, causing Andrew to grimace in pain as the knife grazed his interior organs and nerves.
He was going to die here! At the hands of the Doctor! This wasn't the Doctor! Since when did the Doctor use such primitive ways of surgery? Ohmigosh, ohmigosh, he's coming again-
Andrew felt a scream tear itself from his throat as the knife slid along his chest slowly, opening his stomach.
He doesn't want to die! He doesn't want to die! HE DOESN'T WANT TO DIE! Oh my God, is that a syringe? Lord, help! No, no, NO! He's about to-
"Just a little insurance, to keep you awake through this entire procedure!"
Andrew could hear himself sob, but he couldn't actually feel it anymore.
This is it. This is his death. To die because he was a stupid little idiot who decided to slip aspirin to an obviously emotionally unstable person. This is what he deserved. This was his punishment, for his sins. What would death be like? Who knew. He hoped there would be an afterlife. If there was nothing, than what would be the point to all this? He could see his whole life now; his first day at elementary school, his first crush; the first piece of artwork he made, the first time he watched a little show called Doctor Who. How ironic, a piece of fiction he used to find enjoyment in was killing him. Man, he remembered the fanfictions as well. All of them, even... What's that light? Coming closer? Is this death? Is that... an angel? An angel! Oh, it's so beautiful! He wants to touch the angel! But wait... the angel is going away. It's fading. He doesn't want to be alone anymore. He wants to feel something. He wants to feel loved again. What does love even feel like anymore? It's dark here. So, very, very dark. He doesn't like the dark. What was he even thinking anymore...? What is this? Where was this? What is this? What was he feeling? Who was he? He didn't know who he was. But now... he could just rest. He could sleep. Finally, sleep. Go to sleep. Yes, that's it. Let the darkness envelop himself. Let himself fall victim to that infinite black... Feel the cold surround him... Feel the dull pain in his chest slowly fade...
Forever... for now.
-The UNIX Home Base-
Andrew opened his eyes once again to see a familiar brown haired girl standing infront of him.
He was alive. Away from the Doctor. Somehow.
He started to move, but hissed when his stomach seized in pain.
"Don't make sudden movements like that, it'll upset your stitches." The girl gruffly said, moving to a monitor near the small bed he was lying on. She cast an inquisitive glance in his direction before returning her focus to the monitor.
Andrew could only nod in response, his mouth dry. He glanced around the room, trying to get his bearings. It was small, slightly dirty, but looked a lot more welcoming then that dreaded TARDIS med-bay. Pastel white walls surrounded them in all four directions, each topped with a green line. An old flourescent light flickered on and off above them, casting dancing shadows around them. The bed he was lying on was nice though, beige with a small quilt at the end. Next to it was the black monitor, listing off seemingly random strings of numbers.
"...What is this? Where am I?" Andrew finally found the will to speak. The girl sighed, turning her attention to him once again. He met her once before, in that bar from before he was caught by the Doctor again. Her hair was dirtier than last time, though... What was this?
"I'll try to explain this as detailed as I can, so please pay attention." Her voice wavered slightly, and he saw her lips press together. "I saved you from the Doctor back there, Andrew Evans." She began, and Andrew opened his mouth to question where she got his name, but she shushed him. "I got your name from extensive research and experience in the field, Andrew. Though, I must admit; I'm surprised this version of you actually fell unconscious." She smiled at him, and he was suddenly confused.
"I'm sorry, version of me?" He asked her, slightly rubbing his temples with his fingers. She looked sheepish suddenly, and she rubbed her hands together.
"Er... yes. Version of you." She nodded her head, and he was suddenly reminded of the similar habit Shelly used to do. "I guess I'll have to explain that, so I may as well explain that now-"
"As soon as you say your name." Andrew demanded, daring her to speak her name to him. Was she an ally of him? Or an enemy? Because she sure as hell seemed like an ally.
She seemed hesitant for a moment, but finally relented. "Chelsea. Chelsea Berbrook."
It was a nice name, he had to admit. "Of course. Okay, now you can explain."
Chelsea smiled sweetly at him, before opening her mouth again. "Okay. First, I'll explain my experience. It'll make things a lot easier to explain later, yeah?"
Andrew nodded.
"Okay. So, just like you, I was in my own universe. I was going camping with my family at a small park in Britain, near London. When suddenly, I was pulled through to the Doctor's universe. Of course, I was absolutely shocked. How could fiction be real, I asked? And then, somehow, that universe's version of the Doctor found me. Hunted me down. Dragged me by my hair back to his TARDIS. All the while, that mysterious Old Man was talking to me in my dreams..." She trailed off, and Andrew gasped.
"The Old Man? He was talking to me too! Also in my dreams!" Andrew suddenly grew quiet as Chelsea looked at him somberly.
"We don't know what it is. All we know is that the Old Man is a very negative frequency, or perhaps a creature... Feeding off of other's paranoia and anger. We know for sure that the "Old Man" isn't actually human. It doesn't even live in any universe! It lives inside the void, but that's all we know- for now."
Andrew scratched his head. "When you say 'We', do you mean there's more people like you? Others like us? People who have been pulled through to the Doctor's universe?"
Chelsea grimaced and sighed. "Unfortunately, you got it perfectly. But, you were missing a letter in that final word there. It's "universe's". You see, every one of the other's in this facility were pulled through to different universe's, with different versions of the Doctor. I'm sure you know of alternate universe's by now, anyways."
Andrew nodded again, opening his mouth to speak. "Yeah. The Doctor's universe was different in little ways from my own, like the colours being different or the smells of things being different."
Chelsea shook her head, and put her hands on her hips. "Yeah, same as mine was. Kind of. But anyways, after a while, I escaped. Then I found the Inventor. He lived in some seaside village somewhere in Britain. He was able to... unlock my abilities." She rubbed her shoulder.
"Abilities?" Andrew echoed, glancing up at her. Her eyes were solemn and depressing.
She sighed, leaning against the wall near his bed. "I have the ability to open holes in reality and walk through to other realities." She raised an eyebrow at his astonished look.
He was suddenly cut off from speaking when she said; "And don't even think of asking me for a lift back to your own universe. For some reason, our home universes are blocked off. Their frequency's are heavily guarded, encrypted if you must."
Andrew ran his hands through his hair. This was way too intense for his tastes. "But... why? Why would our universe's be blocked off?"
Chelsea's face was grim. "Nobody knows. Everybody here at this facility, we have a theory that it was the Old Man who blocked them off from us. It's a one way ticket. You can only go into the Doctor's universe. You can't go back."
Andrew paused for a moment. "I still have a question though... Why collect all these different people?"
Her face grew darker, and Andrew gulped. "We're not "collecting" them. We saved them. From their version's of the Doctor. Andrew, there are billions of alternate universe's out there. Alternate timelines, things that should be, things that should never be. My universe was a timeline that thankfully didn't end in tragedy like most others."
Andrew swallowed, his voice wavering as he repeated: "Tragedy, like most others?"
Chelsea nodded, pushing herself off the wall. "Yes. Most timeline's are doomed, to end in tragedy and bloodshed. Your timeline would've been doomed too if I didn't swoop in and save you from the Doctor."
Andrew felt a quiet fluttering of his heart, and he smiled. "Thank you, for that."
She smiled back at him weakly, and said; "It was no problem..."
...
"Why save me from the Doctor?" Andrew asked, and she sighed.
"You see, Andrew. You have the most timeline's out of all of them to end in tragedy, and I was wondered why. So, I simply decided to investigate, and lo and behold, I found out why. The reason? You were stubborn to a fault, instead of being timid and automatically trusting like all the others who had died. That is a valuable asset to us."
"To answer your question from earlier, the reason we are collecting so many people is because we need them to fight against whatever force is pulling innocent people from their universes. We don't know the true reason whatever the thing is doing it for, but we do suspect that it has been the Old Man pulling the strings this whole time. It makes sense."
Andrew nodded, about to ask another question, when suddenly-
RING RING RING RING
Chelsea swore, sprinting back over to the monitor. "Looks like your Doctor is trying to follow through the small hole I left behind when I picked you up. Oh, no. This is bad. If he gets into this facility, who knows the damage he can do...!"
She quickly swung a lever, and typed lines of codes into the console.
Andrew peered around her at the monitor from his vantage point on the bed, and saw her light-speed hands working magic.
She finally pressed a button and sighed, wiping her brow as she collapsed on a small chair. "That should keep him on a wild goose chase for a while. We don't want him at this facility, oh Lord no. He would probably kill everyone here out of pure hatred or something."
Andrew frowned. "Why does the Doctor end up killing people in most of these timeline's."
Chelsea glanced at him, her brown hair falling over her face. "We don't know. All we know is that he is very different than how he is portrayed in the show. In these universes, however, he is twisted, downright insane. And also, never once does he mention Rose or any of his former companions."
Andrew nodded again, feeling weary as he layed there on the bed, trying to absorb the information. Alternate universes. An Old Man with ulterior motives. A corrupted version of the Doctor. Was he in science fiction weekly? Was this a novel?
Chelsea stood up suddenly, appearing taller as she stretched. "Well, I'm going to go get dinner. I'll bring you something to eat while you heal up," She eyed his wounds, her eyes glistening. "And please, don't accidentally fall off the bed. We hate dealing with people like that." She strode away, her heels clacking against the ground, her brown hair swaying behind her.
"Oh, and-" she glanced behind at him, her eyes warm "-welcome to the UNIX, Andrew Evans."
The UNIX, huh.
What a catchy name.
A/N: Hello! How did you guy's enjoy this chapter? It certainly had a lot going on inside it, and now the plot is rolling a lot faster! And don't worry, Andrew's Doctor will be coming back to find him again. Oh, you know he would. He's still missing his heart, you know! Oh, and, just to clear up some stuff incase you're confused: Chelsea had seen Andrew die before in different timeline's. Countless different timeline's. The thing is, he lives only if he falls unconscious at the right moment. Because then Chelsea was able to swoop in and grab him, because he had to be asleep for a dimension transfer like that to work.
Oh, and: We will also be meeting Chelsea's Doctor later down the line, hope you're excited for that!
I'll probably post again in the next couple of day's, so yeah. Bye! ~soultrain21.