"Wakey, wakey."
The voice seemed to be coming from beyond the fog bank. Rose tried to focus on it, but her mind was clouded. A sharp slap to her cheek cleared the fog. Her eyes snapped open. She was sitting up and Adam's face was hovering inches from hers. She tried to lift her hand to grab him, slap him, something, but she couldn't lift her hand.
She glanced down. Her hands were tied, one on either side of her, to the metal bedsprings. She was sitting on the frame. Trying, unsuccessfully to move her legs told her that they too were tied in place.
"Nice of you to join me," Adam continued.
"What the hell is this?" she growled.
"Can't have you moving around," he said, standing up. She caught sight of the pink scarf in his hand, "while I question you."
Her stomach dropped as fear clutched at the back of her neck, like cold fingers. Pink fibers. The killer obviously used a scarf to strangle her. Sherlock's words floated through her mind, the fear she felt took a firmer hold jumpstarting her heartbeat.
"Why," her voice came out hoarse, she swallowed and found that her mouth had gone dry. "Why are you doing this?"
"That gas must have muddled your head. We've already been over that."
She closed her eyes and sighed. There had to be something she could do. Some way out of this. There was always a way, but she was having a hard time thinking as panic began to set in. Please, please find me. Her silent plea wasn't just for the Doctor. It was for Sherlock, for John, Amy, Rory, anyone who could find her.
"We can avoid all this if you'll just tell me what I want to know."
She looked at him as he bent down in front of her, fingering the scarf.
"How do I kill the Doctor?"
She narrowed her eyes.
"I'll never tell you that!" she snapped.
Adam smiled.
"I was hoping you'd say that," he replied as he lifted the scarf.
-0-
The nervous energy in the back of the cab was enough to drive John up the wall. Between the Doctor rubbing his face or running his hand through his hair every couple seconds when he wasn't glancing out one of the windows and Sherlock tapping his knees or clasping his hands John could feel his own nervous ticks manifesting.
"How much longer?" Sherlock called.
"About twenty minutes," the driver replied.
"Make that ten and I'll double the fair."
The cab sped up. John gazed out the windshield, trying not to think about how long Rose had been in Adam's hands. About what might be happening to her or what might have already happened.
She was his friend. One of the only real friends he'd made besides Sherlock. She wasn't his best friend, like the detective, but they were close. There was something about her that made people want to let her in and now...he pushed the thoughts aside. He couldn't go down that road.
Then there was Sherlock. Rose was the only woman he'd gotten that close to. The only woman John could see him building a life with. If she died it would kill his friend. Not physically, at least, he hoped Sherlock wouldn't go that far, but emotionally he'd regress. He'd die and then John would lose him too.
-0-
Rose's lungs burned. Her hands fought against the ropes binding her with their need to claw at the fabric constricting her throat. Breathe! She had to breathe! A tear escaped her eye, sliding down her cheek, but she barely noticed. Then he relaxed his hold on the scarf.
She drew in a ragged breath and coughed before drawing in another. The room swam in and out of her vision as tiny black dots danced around her. She was going to die. Right there in that burned out room. The realization hit her like a speeding car.
No one knew where she was. The Doctor, Sherlock, all of them were focused on one person and that person wasn't Adam. There would be no last minute rescue. No genius detective stepping through the door. No bumbling Doctor with his goofy grin. She was going to die.
"How do I kill him?" Adam asked for what must have been the third time, well, third time since he started strangling her.
He was going to kill her anyway. Didn't matter if she said anything or not. Not that she would've told him about the Doctor. She wouldn't do that, not even to save her own life, but that wasn't even an option. Well, if she was going to die might as well get it over with.
She smiled.
"You know, you're wrong," she rasped through her sore throat.
"Wrong about what?"
"I did think about you after we dropped you back home. The Doctor and I both thought about you. Although, it was more like had a laugh about you." He glared at her. "About how you'd have to hide for the rest of your life, how you'd never be able to go out in public, have a girlfriend, not that you could get one before-"
She was cut off as Adam wrapped the scarf around her neck again and began choking her. She looked into his eyes, wild with anger and madness. He would kill her this time and then it would be over. A calmness settled over her as her lungs began to burn and then…a strange hissing noise filled the room. One she recognized. Adam couldn't hear over his own fury as he choked her with the scarf, but she heard it.
Adam's eyes grew heavy. He blinked. Shook his head.
"What the…" he trailed off, his hands losing their hold on the scarf.
She coughed. Drawing in a ragged breath, but with the air came the gas and her eyes began to put up their own losing battle. Her last thought before she lost consciousness was a question. If Adam's in here then who turned on the gas?
-0-
The cab drew to a stop outside a building that appeared to have been abandoned for years. The windows were boarded up, overgrown weeds sprouted from cracks in the foundation. The building looked like it might topple at any moment, but Amy paid that little mind as they raced up to the door that was hanging very askew.
Sherlock reached it first, pulling the door open, at least, she was pretty sure that was his intention. Instead, the door fell in the direction he was pulling and plunged off the porch, landing with a thud on the surrounding cement. The detective dashed inside followed by John, the Doctor, Amy and finally Rory, who tugged on her arm.
"We're supposed to wait outside," he hissed.
"Then wait outside," she replied.
"But you're supposed to wait outside with me."
"Yeah, like that's going to happen."
"Amelia," the Doctor snapped.
She looked up in time to avoid colliding with him. The Time Lord had stopped in the middle of the room.
"What?" she asked, completely innocent like.
"I told you to wait outside."
She rolled her eyes and then caught his furious look.
"Oh, you were serious?"
"Don't pretend you didn't know."
"Where did they go?" she asked, hoping to distract the Doctor.
He turned around. Sherlock and John's footsteps were growing fainter and they were no longer in the room. The Time Lord ran toward the fading sound. She smiled running after him.
"Don't think this means we're finished discussing your inability to listen to me," the Doctor shot over his shoulder.
"You can talk all you want. Doesn't mean I'm going to listen," Amy replied.
He tossed her a glare so she gave him a smile. A door opened in the distance.
"What do you think this place is…or was?" Rory asked.
They rounded the next corner and followed the Doctor up to an open door. Stairs descended into darkness.
"Old hospital. Closed in the early," he ran his hand along the wooden doorframe, "late 1920's."
"Hospital?" Rory asked.
The Doctor started down the stairs. Amy followed with Rory trailing.
"For the criminally insane," The Doctor said.
"Sorry…what?"
"Didn't you see the sign?"
"Sign? What sign?"
"It was outside. Really, Rory, you should pay more attention."
"Are we seriously walking down the stairs into the dark basement of a hospital for the criminally insane?" Rory asked.
"I know," Amy laughed. "Great, right?"
"Um…no, not exactly what I was thinking."
"Don't worry. I'll protect you from the mad ghosts."
"Not funny."
"Oh, what's that?" Amy asked, pointing off in the distance.
Rory jumped bumping into her. She laughed.
"Really, Amy, not funny," he snapped.
"Would you two hurry up?" the Doctor asked.
She was having so much fun messing with Rory she almost forgot why they were there. She hurried the rest of the way down the stairs. The Doctor was at the bottom with his sonic held out like a torch.
She followed him across the room, through an open doorway and down a long corridor. There were doors off to the sides, but he paid them little attention. Another open door yawned at them from the end of the corridor. As they drew closer she could hear movement inside.
"Sherlock?" the Doctor called.
"In here," the detective replied.
The Doctor stepped inside. She followed. There was a charred mess in the middle of the room that looked like it might've been a table and chairs and one time. An old bed frame was bolted to the floor and lying next to the bed frame was a man. John was bent over him checking his pulse.
"He's dead," John announced.
"Dead?" the Doctor asked.
He crossed the room and scanned the man's body with his sonic. Then he looked at the reading.
"Oh…well…that's…odd," the Doctor said.
"Odd?" Sherlock asked.
"It's…well…all of his vital organs shut down. No…" he scanned the man's head then looked at the readings again. "They were shut down."
"What do you mean, they were shut down?" John asked.
Which was exactly what Amy was wondering.
"There's a chip in his implant."
"Implant?" Sherlock asked.
"Adam had an implant installed when he traveled with me. That's the whole reason I dropped him back home, but that's not the point. Someone put a chip in his implant, not only that it appears his implant was altered."
That bloke had someone install some kind of implant in his head? Why would he do that? And why would that make the Doctor want to drop him off? She decided those questions could wait because…she gazed around the room…Hang on. Where was Rose?
"Altered to do what exactly?" Sherlock asked.
"He was being controlled," the Doctor replied.
"By whom?"
"That's a good question. One I don't have an answer for."
Seriously? Was she the only one who noticed someone was missing?
"That's all well and good," Amy said, "but where is she?"
Sherlock and the Doctor looked at her. Couple of genius idiots those two.
"We came here to save Rose. So, where is she?"
"I…" the Doctor gazed around the room, his face taking on that this is really not good look. "I don't know."
Sherlock walked over to the bed frame and began to examine something. The Doctor joined him. Amy followed. Ropes, two of them tied to the bedsprings and two to the bottom of the frame. She must've been tied down.
"She was cut lose," the detective said. "It wasn't him." He motioned toward the body.
"How do you know?" Amy asked.
"He's clutching the scarf he strangled those women with. Most likely, he was using it on Rose when whoever rescued her interrupted them. Only, they didn't fight. No signs of an altercation," the detective answered in a voice that was very clinically unattached.
It was the same way the Doctor spoke when he became angry. That calm angry. The scary angry.
"Then what happened?" she asked, hoping to diffuse his anger by distracting him, but not entirely sure that would work. He wasn't the Doctor.
"From the smell I'd say sleeping gas."
"Sleeping gas?"
"Not the type used for surgeries. Most likely, something Adam mixed himself."
The Doctor sniffed the air.
"You're right," the Time Lord agreed.
"Of course I'm right," Sherlock replied with a bit of smugness, some of that anger leaving his voice.
"Probably administered through the vents."
"Obviously."
Oh, obviously. Amy rolled her eyes.
"So, what do we do now?" she asked.
"Now, we…" the Doctor trailed off, his eyes catching sight of something near the door.
She turned to find out what he was looking at. There was something written on the wall, but she couldn't quite make it out. The Doctor crossed the room and she followed. The sonic lit the area and she could see it, but she couldn't read it because it was written in…
"Is that Gallifreyan?" she asked.
The Doctor didn't answer. Instead, he bent down and ran his hand over the words. Sherlock must have noticed because he joined them.
"What is that?" the detective asked.
"Gallifreyan," The Doctor replied. "The lost language of the Time Lords."
"Then…James has her," Sherlock deduced.
Oh, he was good. Got that from finding out what language was written on the wall.
"I'm afraid so."
"What does it say?" Amy asked.
"Versailles Royal Court."
"Versailles?" Sherlock asked.
"Do you think he took her there?" John inquired.
"No, it's a reference," the Doctor said.
"A reference to what?" Sherlock asked.
"He means to trap me."
Hang on. What?
"Trap you?" Amy inquired.
"How can you be so sure?" John asked.
"I saved Madame de Pompadour in Versailles royal court, but to do so I trapped myself. Or, at least, I thought I did."
"Madame de Pompadour? Seventeen hundreds France Madame de Pompadour?"
"Yes, that's the one." The Doctor stood up and headed for the door.
"Hang on. Where are you going?" Amy asked.
"Might as well wait back with the TARDIS."
What the hell did he think he was doing?
"You're just going to leave?" Sherlock asked.
"There isn't anything we can do until the meta-crisis contacts me."
"We should be looking for him."
"Rose is safe."
"Safe? She's with your psychopath clone!"
"He won't hurt her because she's the bait. I'm the one he's after."
With that the Doctor walked back down the hall. Amy gave John and Sherlock a glance. They weren't happy, not at all. Then she followed after the Doctor with Rory trailing. She could understand their frustration. If Rory had been taken she wouldn't want to wait around either, but the Doctor was right. There was nothing they could do until that meta-crisis contacted them.
Standard Disclaimer.
Thank you to all my brilliant readers!
If you have time reviews are always welcome. :)
