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Amy raised her head. She was resting on a metal floor, which sent a chilling sensation along her cheek. Her flaming red hair was sprawled out, covering her face. There was a bronze light in her eyes as she crawled to her knees, aching all over. She recoiled as she touched her forehead, pulling her hands away from the sharp, stabbing pain. Her fingers were red. Shaking, she removed a small makeup mirror from her jacket pocket to check herself, gasping a little at the bulging cut above her left eyebrow. Slowly, she remembered what had happened: the Tardis was out of control; she'd fallen and hit her head on a wall as the ship spun upside down.
Where was she? There was a soft golden light, but other than that, she was in the dark. There were some synthesised sounds in the distance – machinery, she instantly thought. That would mean civilisation of some sort. Was that a good thing? She was either in an empty broom cupboard or an alien dissection laboratory.
"Rory!" she whispered. "Rory? Get your stupid face where I can see it! Rory . . ." she pleaded. "Doctor? Are you there? Someone . . . Someone just say something. Anything!"
Suddenly, there was a grating of metal, not in Amy's room, but somewhere close. She could hear something approaching. Slowly, Amy staggered to her feet, raising her fists, knowing she'd probably be too scared to put up a decent fight. She stumbled backwards, eventually hitting a wall, as she waited . . .
"Isn't she pretty?" Leo Jones smiled, holding up baby Maggie in his arms.
"She takes after her father," Mickey pointed out, helping himself to some crisps in the middle of the kitchen table.
"That's a horrible thing to say!" Francine laughed. "No daughter wants to look like their dad, especially if their dad's my son!"
"Hey!" Leo moaned as Mickey and Francine giggled to themselves. There was a loud bump from the next room. "Damn it. Keisha! Are you ok?" Leo panicked, hurrying out of the room to find is older daughter.
Francine laughed a little. "That little one's just like Martha – very curious. Always scurrying behind bookcases and running about."
"It sounds like she was a bit of a handful," Mickey smiled.
"Still is. First there was the Doctor, then Torchwood, then the two of you going freelance . . . Jesus, it sent me mad!" she laughed. Then she sighed. "Your life now – it's right for you two?"
"Yes. Of course, Mrs Jones," Mickey replied.
"Really? You've both travelled with that man, and now you're both acting like a normal married couple. I'm not going to deny that I feel happy about that, but sometimes I wonder whether it's right for the two of you. I wouldn't know, but it seems odd to go from such excitement to the everyday."
Mickey shrugged. "I guess it is a little odd. We agreed, though. The Doctor won't be back for us; he'll move on just like he always does, so we should to. There's no point waiting all our lives for something that's never going to happen. Maybe every day is what we need right now."
"Well, I can't argue with that," Francine sighed. "Now then, would you like a coffee?"
"Ah, no," Mickey cried, getting out his seat. "Leave it to me, Mrs Jones. I'm the son-in-law; I need to keep up appearances. What would you like?"
"I would love a lemonade, now that you mention it."
"Then one lemonade is coming up!" Mickey announced. He flicked through the drawers, searching for the lemonade. Where on Earth was it?
"Need some help?" Francine offered.
"I'm fine, Mrs Jones. I've got this under control," Mickey insisted, badly timing his words as he knocked his head on a cabinet, having to bite his tongue to avoid cursing.
"Bottom cabinet, second on the right."
"Ah!" Mickey cried, finally finding it. "I would've found it eventually."
"I'm sure you would've," Francine grinned, a little sarcastic.
"Mickey? Mickey, are you in?" a voice called, appearing in the house as the door slammed shut.
"Yeah, babes. In the kitchen!" Mickey called.
The kitchen door swung open as Martha stepped in. Both Francine and Mickey gasped a little, noticing the tear stains on Martha's face, and her unusually reddened eyes. Francine stood. In shock.
"Oh my God! What's happened?" Mickey asked, immediately running to Martha's side, pulling her in to a warming hug.
"Mickey . . ." Martha stuttered.
"Come on. Tell me what it is," Mickey insisted, cupping Martha's head in his warm hands.
"Martha, sweetie. What's wrong?" Francine asked.
"It's . . . It's here," Martha stuttered.
"What's here?" Mickey inquired, a little concerned.
"The Tardis," Martha replied. "I was in the park, talking to Tish on the phone, then suddenly I saw the Tardis. It was just there, right in the middle of the woods. Clear as day."
"Did you see him? Did you see the Doctor?"
"No. Only the Tardis. I didn't go in. I just came straight here. I ran the whole way. I was just so shocked. I didn't know what to do."
"It's alright. It's alright," Mickey soothed, wiping her cheeks.
"What do we do know?" Martha asked.
"I don't know. It's up to you, babes. We could go and see him if you want. We would've have to travel with him; he's probably got some new companions anyway."
"I don't know!" Martha panicked, shaking. "It's been so long."
"Go and see him," Francine said.
"What?" Martha gasped.
"Go and speak to him. Talk to the Doctor. You both deserve it after this long. He'll want to meet you, I bet, so why don't you. Just make sure you come back. I want to see both of your faces back here before dark," Francine insisted. "Go on. He might leave soon."
Mickey turned to Martha. Their eyes met, filled with hope and confusion and excitement. "Ok. I'll start the car. Just let me get a coat," Mickey decided, running up the stairs to get more clothes, leaving Martha and Francine in the kitchen.
"You should get ready," Francine said. "You won't want to be late."
"Are you sure, Mum? I know you've never really been too happy about . . ."
"Who cares?" Francine smiled. "If you want to, then go. All I care about is that my daughter could miss an opportunity she may never get again."
"Mum!" Martha cried, going to hug Francine.
"What's this all for?" Francine asked. "You're not going anywhere – you're just meeting an old friend."
"But you know the Doctor. If he asks for one last adventure, I can't say no."
"Then go!" Francine insisted. "I don't care what happens; just make sure that you and Mickey get back here safely. Now then, where's that smile?"
Martha smiled, not disguising the tears in her eyes. "I love you, Mum."
"This is not a goodbye! You will be back!" Francine ordered. "And I want to know every last story the Doctor has to tell you."
"I'll make sure he tells us the best," Martha grinned.
"That my girl. Go on. Enjoy yourself."
"Martha! Come on, I'm ready!" Mickey called, running down the stairs.
"Ok . . . See you later," Martha waved goodbye as she hurried into the car with Mickey. As their car left the drive, Martha insisted on waving out the window. "We'll be back soon!"
"Oh . . ." Leo stuttered, emerging from the room next to the kitchen. "Where's Martha gone?"
"Oh. She's gone out with Mickey," Francine frowned, pursing her lips and heading back into the kitchen. "I don't think she'll be back any time soon."
"So, what's going to happen to the Doctor?" Oswin asked.
Bad Wolf sighed. "You have the Dalek archives in your head, right? Have you ever heard of the Time War?"
"Yeah," Oswin stuttered. "The war between the Daleks and the Time Lords."
"During the war, the Doctor capture a device, and planned to use it to end the war, destroying both species," Bad Wolf explained. "The device was called the Moment, but it was so advanced that it gained a consciousness, which took the form of Bad Wolf and persuaded the Doctor to find another way of ending the war."
"So you're the Moment?"
"No. The Moment doesn't exist anymore . . . But its intentions do," Bad Wolf smiled.
Oswin looked confused, "What do you mean?"
"After the war, the Doctor installed a protocol into the Tardis software so that when the Doctor is considered a danger, Bad Wolf is activated to prevent it."
"What?"
"Ok," Bad Wolf thought, considering how to explain. "In the future, the Doctor will be faced with a choice that could destroy thousands of people, and he may not see an alternative. That situation has risen, so Bad Wolf has been activated to prevent the Doctor from making the wrong decision."
"Alright," Oswin nodded, beginning to understand. "And that's why this place looks like the Tardis: because you're part of the Tardis software! But why are you in my head? How's this going to prevent anything?"
"Because you provide me with a unique advantage. You're dead, Oswin, which means that I'm free to rummage through your head – a head full of data from the Dalek catalogues. Your Dalek body hasn't completely been destroyed yet, so we still have time to do some basic operations. Currently, every real time second is two minutes here. We've got five minutes and twenty one seconds left to get to work."
Oswin laughed a little. "I love it when you talk clever. Just like the Doctor."
"Well, I do try my best," Bad Wolf smiled with a wink. "Anyway – to business!"
"Ok. How can I help?" Oswin asked, jumping beside the Tardis console with Bad Wolf.
"Best way to stop the Doctor from causing havoc, don't let him get into trouble into the first place. We need to change his future."
"How are we going to do that?"
"Make contact . . . But with who?"
"I've got a list of the Doctor's known companions in my head. We should pick one that the Doctor will be with now. Amy or Rory?"
"No. We can't contact either. The Doctor was separated from them when I lost control."
"You lost control?"
"I was hit by a space craft, causing me to be hit off course. The Doctor, Amy and Rory were flung out into the time vortex. Since I landed in a completely different place, I don't know where they are or how to make contact . . . Earth!" Bad Wolf cried jumping into the air. "I landed on Earth . . . Will land . . . Have landed? Tenses – what is the point? Early twenty first century."
"Place a setting into the Tardis software: the companion that we choose will be able to contact the Doctor with one press of a button."
"But I don't know where the Doctor is?"
"The Tardis is linked with his sonic thing."
"I can't change any software in this form and when I landed I was half dead."
Oswin stopped to think, gritting her teeth in thought. "Contact a companion anyway; we'll make a plan up as we go."
"Ok," Bad Wolf agreed, picking up the Tardis phone, pressing it to her ear as she heard a ringing on the other end.
"Who are you calling?W
"Erm . . ." Bad Wolf thought, trying to read the monitor. "Donna Noble."
Dum, dum, dum! From what I've planned so far, the next chapter is gonna be pretty dramatic . . . Torchwood is back!