It was the Tardis. Because of course, it was the Tardis. Every strange thing that happened with me was the Tardis's fault and this was one of them. It was the same as what happened with the Slitheen, according to the Doctor, who was fighting to explain it to me with actual words instead of just brushing it off with a happy grin and neverending enthusiasm. It was weird coming from Twelve, making him appear more like his last regeneration than the grumpy old man he usually was. He didn't even seem to care about the specifics as much as I did and just went out of his way to spoil me for the next few days I was with him.
I warned him that he needed to be careful. I could have sworn that his blindness was very important but I couldn't remember why. He agreed to keep it secret from Bill and Nardole, going out of his way to tell Nardole in front of me that he was still blind and doing a rather good job of acting so. It put me in an awkward position though, because I had to also pretend he was blind in front of Nardole which was harder than it sounded. I was good at lying, always had been, but faking being upset and acting were not my strong suit. I'd told the Doctor this but he just laughed saying he knew.
"What was it you said? One acting class in college and you choked on the first scene you had to do?"
As embarrassing as it was that he knew that, the whole situation left me a little uneasy about the Tardis piece in me and what I was capable of. He reassured me it was fine and probably wouldn't happen again unless there were some extenuating circumstances but still. For one, it didn't make sense. I was somehow channeling the Tardis energy inside me and then using it to fix his blindness? When I pressed him for an explanation the best thing he could suggest was it was similar to dormant regeneration energy. I get dangerously injured? It kicked in to send me elsewhere. I wish for something so desperately enough that even the Tardis sympathizes? She taps into the energy and fixes it for me. I didn't like it. It didn't feel scientific or factual and the Doctor just shrugged it off. It annoyed and frustrated me and I admit to spending some time in the Tardis library trying to find anything to explain it.
Everything being in future scientific gibberish or straight-up Gallifreyan meant there was little to nothing to find. The Doctor even looked at those I couldn't read and waved them off as unhelpful. Eventually, I set it aside to think about later or ask his future selves should I meet them again. Still, it was hard to just accept I'd done something miraculous and just fixed the Doctor. I should be happy and I was but… it felt like cheating. If cheating at life was something possible.
Thankfully, I was sent off before the end of the week, well rested and having tripped while leaving my bedroom on the Tardis only to step out onto cobbled roads. I looked around with a small sigh of annoyance, knowing that I'd be lucky to have the right money on me for this time period. Grumbling under my breath about stupid time jumping and landing someplace early, I checked my watch in the lanternlight of a nearby building, squinting at the time it showed.
"1890? Early June at around… what? Eight in the evening?"
I scratched the back of my head, glad that I gave it a trim without dye this time, and left it a short, messy bundle of brown hair. I'd had enough of people looking at me oddly when I ended up in the past and… well, the Doctor had mentioned he missed my original hair color. It was really hard to deny him that after he'd been blind—not because of me, I reminded myself as I dug through my coat pockets in search of the money pouch the Tardis helped me keep hold of. I have to remember that. It's never because of me because otherwise, he'll blame himself. A tough pill to swallow but Twelve had been pounding it into my head all week and I knew I needed to change how I looked at things or every adventure would become a problem.
"1890s, 1890s… what currency do they use?" I muttered under my breath, brows furrowed and trying to think as I pulled out a coin and eyed it in the dim light. "Pounds? Shillings? God, I really need to study up on my history."
I put the coin back and hoped I could work it out as I wandered toward the first inviting cafe or pub I could find. I stepped in and offered the man who approached me a small smile, dragging up my dusty social skills as I took a seat at a table.
"Hi, could I get a drink and something to eat perhaps? A menu, if you have it."
He nodded, returning and handing me a list of what they offered before I ordered a simple stew and a glass of rum to go with it along with some water. I thanked him when he brought me my drink and asked about lodgings nearby just in case I ended up staying later than expected; somehow working out which coins to give him for the meal. Thankfully, there was a place just down the road I could drop by to stay and I let out a soft sigh of relief as I dug into my food. It was a quiet evening at the cafe with just some idle chatter from nearby patrons and the service was good, with the waitresses coming by to refill my water and see if I wanted more food or drink. It wasn't until a man stepped in and began bickering with the owner—or who I assumed was the owner—that my attention was shifted from my meal.
He was familiar and I frowned slightly at the man's red hair as he tried to get a free drink. Or, well a drink for a painting? I wasn't sure who bartered that way but it was the 1890s so I was hardly an expert on how things worked in this time period. Still, I leaned back in my seat and turned, propping an arm over the back of my chair with a small frown as the man was herded out of the cafe to continue bickering outside. I waved down a waitress though, unable to ignore the nagging feeling I knew the man and she approached with a small, awkward smile.
"Who was that, then?" I asked, trying to keep from being suspicious and grateful that whatever came out of my mouth was translated into however they spoke in the 1890s.
Her smile dropped and she huffed. "Vincent Van Gogh. Don't mind him. He's a drunk and half mad, he is."
I choked on my drink, grimacing at the sting of the alcohol going down the wrong pipe as I set my cup down. She asked if I was okay and I nodded, just croaking out for more water that she quickly provided so I could clear my throat. Vincent Van Gogh? Then, that means—I turned as a group walked into the cafe; the disgruntled but begrudgingly accepting cafe owner, Vincent, Amy Pond, and the Eleventh Doctor.
"Oh, boy," I murmured, tipping my head back, closing my eyes, and taking a deep breath before getting up.
Vincent noticed my approach first since I'd come up from behind the Doctor and Amy, and I offered him a small smile.
"Sorry, do you mind if I join you?"
"Ash!" The Doctor cheered with a beaming grin, grabbing my arm and immediately tugging me down to kiss my cheek. "Lovely to see you. Been waiting long?"
Slightly flushed from his abrupt display of affection, I cleared my throat and lightly swatted at his arm.
"Not long no. Enough to get something to eat and drink," I pointed out, lifting my glass of rum and reaching out to snag a chair from another table.
I didn't want to crowd poor Vincent nor was I planning on having the Doctor squish Amy into the corner.
"Sorry for interrupting," I said to Vincent, giving him a small awkward smile. "Don't mind me."
His brows furrowed, eyeing me for a second before the Doctor gestured to me and stuck his hand out eagerly.
"Let's start again. Hello, this is Asher and I'm the Doctor."
"I knew it!" Vincent said loudly, confusing the Doctor as I stepped in.
"H-He's not—Not that kind of doctor," I placated the man. "A doctor of science, not medicine."
Vincent frowned, suspicious but also slightly sheepish. "So, my brother didn't send you…? He's always sending doctors but they never help."
"Oh, no. Not that kind of doctor at all," the Doctor agreed before his eyes drifted to the painting Vincent had been trying to pawn off to the cafe owner. "That's incredible, don't you think, Amy?"
"Absolute. One of my favorites," she said, not realizing her slip-up.
"One of my favorite whats? You've never seen my work before," Vincent accused, as I sighed softly and had a long sip of my rum.
"Ah, yes. One of my… favorite paintings that I've ever seen… generally."
Smooth, I mentally hummed. I forgot how chaotic these two were without Rory to balance them out. I paused, growing solemn. God, I'm going to have to let Rory… and Amy will… I swallowed the rest of my rum and considered getting my mug refilled but instead returned my attention to the discussion happening in front of me. Vincent had been complimenting Amy's hair and judging by the Doctor's anxious shifting about in his seat, he was tired of the small talk. It didn't take long for him to interrupt them.
"So, uh, Vincent. Painting any churches recently? Any churchy related plants? Are churches, chapels, religiousy stuff like that something you'd like to get into? You know, fairly soon?"
It's a wonder he gets anything done, I mused, though Vincent wasn't too bothered by his strange questioning.
"Well, there is one church I'm thinking of painting when the weather is right."
"That is very good news," the Doctor smiled before I jumped when a woman rushed in screaming.
"She's been murdered! Help me!"
"That, on the other hand, isn't quite such good news," the Doctor noted as we got up. "Come on, Amy, Vincent!"
Vincent took half a second to finish off his drink and we all hurried after the woman as she led us back to the body.
"Please let me look! I'm a doctor," the Doctor said only for his voice to trail off and even I had to pause for a second.
It was… strange. It wasn't like I hadn't seen a dead body before at this point. The Doctor's life was full of mad things and death was one of them. Not only that, but I had a strong stomach. I'd macerated fish and rodents before for university and one of my old jobs had involved cleaning drains that no one bothered to even look at most days. Yet, my stomach churned at the sight of the young woman lying on the cobblestones, torn to shreds with no life in her eyes as blood seeped into the cracks on the ground. I swallowed past the lump in my throat, taking a half-step back with Amy as Vincent and the Doctor knelt down to check on her. They didn't have long before another woman hurried over.
"Away, all of you vultures! This is my daughter!" She said, quickly tearing up with grief as she cradled her daughter's face. "Giselle. What monster could have done this! Get away from her!"
The Doctor obediently stood up, hand up placatingly before the woman spotted Vincent and a snarl overcame her features.
"Get that madman out of here!"
She threw a stone at him before the rest of the crowd gathered their own rocks and began to hurl them at us.
"You bring this on us!" The woman bellowed and I winced as a particularly sharp stone cracked across my brow. "Your madness! You! He's to blame!"
We took off through the nearby alleyway, making sure no one was following before catching our breaths.
"Are you alright?" The Doctor asked, glancing at Vincent who nodded.
"Yes, I'm used to it."
"Has anything like this murder happened here before?"
"Only a week ago. It's a terrible time."
"As I thought. As I thought," the Doctor hummed, stepping away from him as I reached up and winced at a small gash on my right brow. "Come on. We'd better get you home."
"Where are you staying tonight?" Vincent made the mistake of asking and the Doctor grinned, patting his shoulder.
"Oh, you're very kind."
Amy let out a little chuckle and bounded off after the Doctor until Vincent sighed and gave in. I stayed quiet as I followed after them, occasionally dabbing at my bleeding brow and frowning at the blood stains I was getting on the handkerchief I'd pulled from my pocket.
"Dark night. Very starry," the Doctor hummed from just ahead of me where Amy excitedly hung off his arm.
The dark night prevented them from noticing my small wound, and I was fine with it. It was just a cut and would heal with time. I didn't see the reason to make a big deal out of it when we were already sort of intruding on Vincent's hospitality.
"It's not much," the artist commented. "I live on my own but you should be okay for one night. One night," he emphasized as Amy bounced up and down.
"We're going to stay with him?"
"Until he paints that church," the Doctor replied as Vincent lit a lamp outside his home, hung up his hat, and pointed at something hanging near the door.
"Watch out. That one's wet."
"What?" Amy questioned as the Doctor slipped inside and she gaped at the painting for a second before rushing in.
I followed a bit slower, eyeing the painting for a moment myself and ducking into the small home as Vincent apologized for the mess.
"Some clutter," the Doctor hummed, looking around at all the paintings he would eventually become famous for.
"I've come to accept the only person who's going to love my paintings is me," Vincent replied but Amy was loving every second.
"Wow. I mean, really. Wow."
"Yeah, I know it's a mess. I'll have a proper clear-out. I must. I really must," Vincent said, mistaking her shock as something bad. "Coffee anyone?"
"Not for me, actually," the Doctor said as I eyed a painting near the window.
"I'm fine. I'll take some water if you've got any though," I spoke up as Vincent set his coffee cup on a painting and the Doctor poked his head in from a room he was snooping.
"You know, you should be careful with these. T-They're—"
Vincent lightly swiped at a ring of coffee the pot had left on a painting, uncaring of the stain.
"...precious," the Doctor muttered with a sigh as Vincent hummed.
"Precious to me. Not precious to anyone else."
"They're precious to me," Amy chirped, making him smile.
"Well, you're very kind and kindness is most welcome."
"Maybe you've not found the right audience," I suggested, turning toward him with a small shrug. "Travel a bit, perhaps? Meet people with a different perspective?"
Vincent was hesitant as he brought me a cup of water. "Yes, well, I'm not sure there will be many with a positive view of my works. Ah," he paused, lifting a hand and lightly brushing his fingers against my temple.
I leaned a little away, rather surprised at the soft touch and he quickly apologized.
"Sorry. You've got a cut. Let me grab something for you," he said, putting the cup of water down on the counter as I tried to stop him.
"Oh, no. It's fine. Really, it's—"
"You're hurt?" The Doctor asked, rushing over as I let out a small sigh.
"It's just a cut. I'm fine, Doctor."
He frowned at me though, after having taken a look at it and drawing out his own handkerchief to press against it, making me wince. "You should have told me."
"It's not even that bad," I argued. "It's just bleeding a lot because it's a head wound."
His frown remained as he pulled the handkerchief back and lightly pressed around the injury, eyeing it critically. "You're lucky it doesn't need stitches."
I rolled my eyes. "You're being dramatic. It'll stop bleeding in a minute."
"I'm sorry," Vincent said, wringing his hands around a small plaster. "It's my fault. You wouldn't have gotten hit by that rock if it weren't for me."
I waved a hand at him. "Not your fault. Don't worry about it. Whoever threw the rock is at fault and trust me, I'm apparently accident-prone around the Doctor, so I probably would've gotten hurt at some point."
"You say that like it's my fault you get hurt," the Doctor grumbled, soaking a corner of his handkerchief in my water cup and wiping at the wound.
"My last big injury before I met you was skinning both my knees playing basketball in high school with a friend," I countered, giving him a look. "Since meeting you, I've got an entire list of injuries I've had to deal with. None of which were because I went looking for trouble."
"I don't go looking for trouble!"
I raised a brow. "Why are we here?"
He fumbled to answer that, trying to argue and failing rather miserably. "I wasn't—I don't—We were in a gallery! There was a thing in the painting! I didn't go looking for that!"
"Nah, you just saw a smudge of paint in a church window and said, 'Ooh, let's go poke it with a stick!'"
I was teasing, of course, enjoying the over-the-top reaction the Doctor was providing and smiling fondly at this point as Amy leaned over toward Vincent.
"Don't worry. They're always like this."
I glanced over at them. "But look at how he scrambles! You gotta admit it's a bit funny."
"Asher!" The Doctor whined.
"You know I'm right," I countered as he pouted, giving my injury one last look before giving up on our little argument and getting back to the task at hand.
"Right, so this church then. Near here, is it?" The Doctor asked, making Vincent frown.
"What is it with you and the church?"
"Oh, just casually interested in it, you know."
"Far from casual," Vincent said, taking some logs down to light a fire. "It seems to me you never talk about anything else. He's a strange one."
I snorted with a small smile, sipping at my water as I eyed a landscape painting nearby.
"Okay, so, let's talk about you then," the Doctor tried. "What are you interested in?"
"Well, look around. Art. It seems to me there's so much more to the world than the average eye is allowed to see. I believe, if you look hard, there are more wonders in this universe than you could ever have dreamed of."
The Doctor smiled. "You don't have to tell me."
Vincent almost smiled at that before turning back to his task of lighting the fire, going off in a ramble about art as the Doctor settled into a chair nearby. He raised a brow at me as though silently asking if I would join him but I lightly waved him off and, as the fire heated the house and Vincent grew a tad more… eager in his description of his art, I chose to step outside. The cool air felt nice against my heated skin and I sighed softly as I found a stone to sit on to stare up at the stars. For a brief, fleeting moment, I thought back to the Twelfth Doctor and how he wouldn't have been able to see them if it hadn't been for the Tardis. He had insisted it was my miracle that had brought back his sight but it was his ship, not me.
My hand curled around the shimmering golden marks on my arm, thinking back to all the things it had done. How it saved my life, gave life to others, and caused so much pain. I wondered about how my life might have been if I had never picked up that Tardis piece. If the ship would have crumbled and this universe would have fallen apart because she couldn't get it back. If I would have been stuck back home in a never-ending loop of sleeping, working, and arguing with my family. It all felt a bit sad and I let out a heavy sigh only to jump when a voice chimed in from behind me.
"That was a big one," Amy hummed, cracking a smile as she wrapped her arms around herself and came up beside me. "Bad day?"
"Long one, that's for sure," I admitted, though my mind drifted toward something else.
I wondered if Amy—the Amy that was mourning Rory—if she was angry with me like Bill had been about the Doctor. Did Amy blame me for what happened? Was there something I could have done or had there never been a chance?
"Where were you before this? Anywhere I know?" She asked, turning toward a painting hanging nearby.
"Future," I answered, voice going quiet. "Somewhere I didn't actually know anything… not really."
"Seriously?" She asked, turning back toward me as I shrugged. "Wow. Like, I know the future knowledge thing has stuff you can forget but knowing nothing?"
"It happens. My memory is actually shit most of the time."
Amy cracked a smile though, surprising me as she bumped my shoulder playfully. "Yeah, but I bet you still helped that idiot save the day, right?"
I stared at her in blatant shock. "What?"
Her smile faltered slightly, confused at my reaction. "Well, you're not the only forgetful one. The Doctor, he… Well, he can try and act all heroic and stuff but he forgets people sometimes, yeah? Misses out on the little things but you always catch on. Not that I wasn't suspicious at first. I'll admit that I didn't really get it. Knowing the future always seemed like cheating somehow but most of the time you can't even do anything, right? But, the thing is, you always try to and that's kinda amazing."
I… hadn't expected something like that to come from Amy. The Amy I was vaguely familiar with through my foreknowledge was someone who got jealous over the Doctor and those close to him. Someone rash who reacted to things quickly and with a fire well-known for her Scottish lineage. This Amy was still a bit young too. She still did crazy things and didn't have much of a filter. She wouldn't have known me for long and it made a trickle of unease roll through me because would she have said any of this if she knew about Rory? Yet, at the same time, it made warmth swell in my chest because this was someone who didn't know me, looking at me in a different light than the Doctor and she still saw some good in me.
I fumbled to say something, anything to cool the slight heat in my cheeks from the praise I was entirely unused to. Before I could though, there came a squawk and somewhat panicked calls from the nearby chickens. I turned toward them, getting to my feet only to see movement from the corner of my eye. Something solid hit me hard in the gut, knocking the air out of me as Amy let out a scream. I choked for a minute, struggling to get air back into my lungs as the Doctor and Vincent came rushing out of the house. A hand settled on my shoulder, drawing my gaze up from the dirt and rocks I was bent over to stare at the Doctor's worried expression.
"What happened?" He asked, but I hadn't yet caught my breath so Amy took over, having been only knocked over.
"I don't know. I didn't see it. I was talking with Asher when something hit us both."
"It's okay. He's gone now and we're here," the Doctor comforted, rubbing his palm up and down my back as I turned, feeling more than seeing something looming just to my right near the wall of the yard.
"N-Not gone," I choked out, ribs aching as Vincent caught sight of what I'd been missing.
"No! No!"
Unsure of what was happening with Vincent, the Doctor tried to calm the frantic man. "Take it easy! Take it easy!"
"What's happening? What's he doing?" Amy asked in concern.
"I don't know."
Vincent grabbed a pitchfork then and I quickly got up, stumbling slightly from the sharp pain that rolled through my ribs and gut.
"Oh, dear," the Doctor murmured before I hurried past him toward Vincent and grabbed the pitchfork. "Ash!"
"Let go!" Vincent demanded, but I held firm. "You need to run! Run!"
"No! No, we just need to be quiet!" I tried, glancing over my shoulder and wincing.
I couldn't see it. Not clearly like Vincent could. I could tell the creature—the Krafayis—was there but it was like a perception filter was over it. My vision of it was blurred, rarely clearing enough to see movement but it was definitely there. I could feel it and that was a little frightening.
"Amy, Asher, get back!" The Doctor tried. "I think he's having some kind of fit!"
"Shut up and move!" I argued, stunning him as Vincent shoved back against me to try and get over to where he, Amy, and the Krafayis were.
"What?" The Doctor gaped as I grunted against Vincent's weight before finally putting my old Aikido skills to some use.
I twisted, using our hold on the pitchfork to throw Vincent off balance and placing my foot between his to use his own momentum against him. He yelped as he tripped over it and fell to the ground, landing on his shoulder as I jerked the pitchfork out of his hands and tossed it aside.
"Get to the house, now!" I ordered the Doctor who held up his hands and did as I asked, taking Amy with him as my gaze rolled over the yard.
The Krafayis had moved and I was struggling to see where it had gone clearly.
"What are you doing!" Vincent argued with me, but I slapped a hand over his mouth, keeping him pressed to the ground as I hissed.
"Shut up and it'll leave on its own."
"Asher," the Doctor called quietly as a barrel nearby was knocked over and his gaze snapped to it with thinly-veiled caution. "What is it?"
"Why can't we see anything?" Amy asked as well, as I finally saw movement to my left and felt a hint of relief.
It had found the wall to the yard and scaled over it. I let out a heavy breath and flopped backward off of Vincent, leaning back on my hands and tipping my head toward the night sky as I closed my eyes.
"It's gone," I informed them as they moved hesitantly away from the door and Vincent pushed himself upright. "Sorry, Vincent."
He shook his head, unbothered by the rough treatment and instead eyeing me with hidden interest. "You could see it?"
"Not clearly," I admitted, opening my eyes and glancing toward the Doctor as he watched me in concern. "Better when it moved but it's not…"
I pursed my lips, wondering what I could and couldn't say. I remembered some of this mess now and knowing the ending… knowing what happened to it left a sour taste in my mouth. After what happened with the Twelfth Doctor, this felt like a punishment. Another blind being that I had to make a choice about. Do nothing and let things play out? Say something and risk something worse happening? Or try to do something myself and hope beyond hope that the consequences of doing so wouldn't be bad? A hand slipped into view and I looked up at the Doctor as he offered a small, understanding smile. I accepted his help and rose to my feet, letting him tangle our fingers together and giving him a small frown when I felt him mentally pry a little to ensure I was alright. I lightly swatted at his mind, making him pout, as Vincent took a step toward us.
"How did you know it would leave?" He questioned as I ran a hand through my hair and glanced away. "You acted like you knew the creature."
"I… I don't… sort of."
"How about we step inside for a minute and then talk, eh?" the Doctor suggested, buying me some more time to decide what to do because ultimately, the decision was killing me inside.
I knew the obvious choice. I knew what I wanted to do. I wanted to help. I wanted to save the poor creature who was just scared and lost and lonely. I wanted to atone for what damage I had caused the Doctor by helping it but also because I cared. I cared far too much for animals, for creatures of any kind, and crazy-looking bird alien or not, I had always felt bad for what happened to the Krayfayis. I wanted to change things but the last adventure haunted me so deeply that I was scared to. God, it should be an easy decision. Saving it doesn't really have an effect on anything, right? The doubts were there though, trickling through my veins like a chill and I flinched when a blanket was draped over my shoulders.
The Doctor had set me down in a chair and offered me a soft smile that only added to my guilty feelings. His hand curled around the back of my neck, so reminiscent of how Twelve had tried to comfort me when the forcefields had been in the way and I sagged under the touch, head and shoulders dipping toward the floor.
"So, he's invisible," the Doctor declared, squeezing my neck slightly in comfort and drawing Vincent's probing gaze toward him. "What did he look like?"
"I'll show you," Vincent readily agreed, making the Doctor's hand jolt away from me when the man grabbed a painting and hastily covered it with fresh paint.
"Oh, no, no, no, no!"
"What?" Vincent asked and the Doctor grimaced.
"It's just, uh… that was quite a good… Oh, no. On you go," he reluctantly gave in and Vincent got to work.
Only the sound of his charcoal broke the silence in the room as my gaze stayed on the crackling fire before he showed the Doctor.
"Okay. Okay, right. Amy, make Mr. Van Gogh comfortable," the Doctor ordered, taking the sketch from Vincent. "Don't let any invisible monsters in through the front door. Ash, you're with me."
"But it could be outside waiting," Amy tried to argue, rushing toward him as I got up.
"Well, don't worry. I'll risk it. Besides, I've got Ash coming along with me," he chirped, looping an arm over my shoulders and giving them a squeeze. "What's the worst that can happen?"
"You'll jinx it," I muttered as Amy agreed.
"You could get torn to pieces by a monster you can't see."
"Oh, right. Yes, that. Don't worry. We'll be back before you can say where's he got to now."
He tugged me toward the door and went to turn back with a mischievous smirk on his face but I grabbed his wrist and stopped him with a pointed look.
"What?"
"Behave," I scolded, making him wrinkle his nose but begrudgingly left the two uneasy people behind.
I went to let his wrist go but he grabbed hold of my hand, sending me a cheeky grin as he linked our fingers together and swung our arms back and forth like a couple of kids running off to cause trouble. He hummed a little and I managed a soft, fond smile, letting him lead the way and do as he pleased all the way to the Tardis where he finally released me to start his search.
"Right. You in here somewhere?" He muttered to himself, opening up a chest and digging through it. "I can't apologize enough. I thought you were just a useless gadget. I thought you were just an embarrassing present from a dull godmother with two heads and bad breath. Twice. How wrong can a man be?"
I leaned up against the console just watching him and catching the items he threw out and returning them to the chest he bolted away from. He hooked the mirror device up to the console as I pushed the chest back into place, printing out a picture of the First Doctor with a grin.
"Good. Okay, you're working. Now, see what you make of this. Who is that?" He asked the machine, holding up the image Vincent had drawn.
The machine dinged a few times, declaring a match and I came up beside the Doctor as he grumbled at the image of a scarlet macaw.
"No, I know it's not that. There are thousands of them and you can see them plain as day," he said before it changed to a polar bear and he groaned. "No, definitely not. This is the problem with the impressionists. Not accurate enough. This would never happen with Gainsborough or one of those proper painters. Sorry, Vincent. You will just have to draw something better."
He went to throw the charcoal drawing but I grabbed it before he could, making him pause as though he'd forgotten I'd gone with him.
"Sorry," he apologized as I took the drawing and set it down.
"I could just tell you, you know."
"I know," he replied easily enough, adjusting some things on the device as he struggled to strap it on.
I reached over and helped, earning an easy-going grin from him that made me feel ever so slightly frustrated. How can he smile knowing that I could so easily give him the answers he wants and save people he knows are in danger? I hadn't noticed my brows furrow and my lips turn down into a small frown as my fingers adjusted the straps on his shoulders. I also hadn't seen his smile fall into something softer until he reached up and brushed a finger over my temple. A comforting trickle of calm brushed over my frayed emotions and I leaned into it with a soft sigh.
"Sorry," I muttered as his hand drifted away. "I'm projecting, aren't I?"
"Just a little bit," he replied, eyes soft as I forced myself not to look at him. "What happened on your last trip?" He asked, voice quiet and not pressing in a way where I could easily back out if I wanted to.
"It was… in your future," I offered him, warning him that it was spoilers to his life but he didn't seem to care about that part.
"I mean, what happened with you," he clarified as I sagged a little. "You're doubting yourself and I get the feeling you're not so early that this is something possibly silly."
I shot him a look at that; a mild frown upon knowing that he found some of my panic over things silly. In return, I got an apologetic smile as he lightly clasped his hands onto mine now that I'd finished with the straps.
"You have to admit, you often reacted quite abysmally to things that had rather simple answers when you were younger. I'm just saying that it's surprising that you've reached the point of being comfortable with me but are suddenly so worried about telling me things." His hands gave mine a light squeeze. "You don't have to tell me but I don't like seeing you so torn up about things."
I stared down at our hands as his thumbs brushed back and forth comfortingly. "I… I forgot," I explained as simply as I could without giving away anything. "In the future… with later regenerations, I tend to… forget things that happen—are supposed to happen. Going in without knowing is… I thought it'd be easier but it's actually terrifying."
His grip tightened as I let out a choked chuckle and turned my gaze to his deep green eyes.
"Something happened," I croaked. "Something happened to you a-and… and I—"
"It wasn't your fault," he said immediately, knowing what I was struggling with. "Ash, you couldn't have done anything especially if you hadn't known."
"And when I do?" I asked, lightly pulling my hands away from his as he eyed me in concern. "You can't tell me what happened to Rory wasn't my fault. I've not even been there yet but I know Amy will blame me. I blame me because there's always something, isn't there? Something I could have done or changed or tried to do. Whether I know or don't know, it always feels like I'm not good enough to even be here."
The words burned my throat, sending hot, stinging tears to my eyes and I bit out a frustrated curse as I turned away from him and swiped at them angrily. I'd cried enough over this and I hated the near-constant torrent of emotions that were caused by my insecurities.
"What would blaming you do?" The Doctor suddenly asked, voice calm and quiet as he waited patiently for me to get my voice working again past the tears. "Ash, what good would come out of blaming you? It won't make either one of us feel better in the end. Maybe you could have done something. Maybe you couldn't have. Blame is such a temporary thing that the sheer effort of doing so isn't worth it, especially to you."
I couldn't respond to that and he soon came up to grasp my face in his hands, wiping away any tears I'd not managed to hold back.
"I think, at the end of the day, you are just trying to punish yourself for things out of your control. You know what that means?" He cracked a soft smile as all his feelings of pride and joy washed over me like a soothing balm. "It means you're kind and I wouldn't change that for the world."
He didn't hesitate to lean in and press a kiss to my lips, soon pulling back and suddenly looking nervous.
"Sorry. Are we too early for that? If so, I'm terribly sorry and—"
A small chuckle broke out of me at his fumbling and he slowly smiled back with a hint of laughter himself; the tension finally broken. I leaned forward myself and wrapped my arms around his neck, holding him tight despite the prodding of the device strapped to his chest jabbing me in my tender ribs.
"Thank you," I murmured, pressing my gratitude toward him as he hummed. " 'm sorry I keep doing this."
"It's tough," he answered easily enough as we pulled apart. "Life in the Tardis is never easy much less with abilities like yours."
I eyed him for a moment, still feeling the ever-present trickle of appreciation and pride coming from him with his hands resting on my hips.
"I want to help," I murmured, earning a small smile.
"You always do."
Warmth filled me up as he smiled softly at me and I swallowed back my hesitation.
"It's a Krafayis," I murmured, watching his smile slide off his face into something sad and solemn. "It's… It's blind and scared, and I want to help it b-but… I'm worried. It shouldn't do anything—change anything—but I can never know for sure. With Vincent a-and you and Amy, I just thought—"
The words got lodged in my throat for a minute as bitterness and self-blame welled within me and I pulled a hand through my hair; tugging on the strands tightly.
"God, I was going to let it die because I-I was scared." A bitter chuckle tore from my throat as I glanced at the Doctor almost fearfully. "A-And you said I was kind."
"Because you are," he pressed, delicately untangling my fingers from my hair. "Everyone gets scared and allows it to control their judgment sometimes. However, those who are strong and kind can push past that fear and do something about it. Even if it isn't successful, your trying is more than enough, Ash."
Slowly, hesitantly, I nodded and took a deep, shuddering breath to calm my frayed nerves; the Doctor's hand in mine helping to ground me.
"A-Alright. Okay."
"Ready?" He asked quietly and I nodded as he lightly tugged me to the door. "If it helps, I was actually more worried you were going to panic about being able to see it."
A trickle of unease went through me at that, making me pull him to a stop at the Tardis doors.
"What?" I questioned, suddenly worried something was physically wrong with me but the Doctor just turned to face me with a beaming grin.
"Your little telepathic abilities are truly amazing, aren't they?" He announced. "You can feel emotions well enough to break past shielding and perception filters! Your level of control is brilliant even without knowing exactly what you're doing and with a bit of practice, you could easily master some highly advanced—"
I cut the Doctor off with my hand over his mouth, sighing softly without any actual bite.
"I really don't want to know," I informed him, feeling him pout behind my palm. "So can we please go help the Krafayis now?"
He rolled his eyes and I dropped my hand only for him to grab it once more and start tugging me along
"You're no fun," he pouted and I smiled, feeling the fondness through our clasped hands and relishing in warmth knowing that even if this ended up being a bad decision, the Doctor was there supporting me. And what more could I ask for?
The Doctor hastily grabbed Asher and pulled her around the corner, tucking her up against the stone wall and trying to calm his breathing as they heard the Krafayis fumble about in the alleyway they'd just been in. It had been waiting outside the Tardis and the chimes of the device the Doctor had brought with him had drawn its attention. He'd since turned it off and the two of them waited with bated breath, ears strained to try and hear it before letting out soft sighs of relief as its footfalls faded.
"Is it gone?" Asher asked, glancing slightly up at him before her face flushed bright red.
They were rather close, pressed flush against one another and the Doctor had to swallow back the urge to do something inappropriate at the sight of her crimson cheeks. She was still new to everything and as much as her later self wouldn't have minded a bit of a snog while in potential danger, this Asher was still rather uneasy with such fond attention. Still, he gave her a quick peck, silently chuckling as her gaze shifted away from him in embarrassment and a hand went up to her mouth as he took a step away to give her space.
"For now," he answered her question, a cheeky grin on his face as he took her hand and went to move around the corner only to scream.
Asher had flinched and stiffened as well, only to sag as Amy's own scream trickled off. She'd gone to find them, it seems.
"Never do that!" The Doctor shouted, hearts racing. "You scared the living daylights out of me."
"Sorry, I got bored," Amy argued, glancing at Asher as she tried to calm her own frantic heart. "Thought you two might have gotten distracted in a broom cupboard or something."
Asher let out a groan, dropping her face into her hand and making Amy raise a brow.
"Wait. You weren't seriously—"
"It doesn't matter," the Doctor hastily cut her off, clearing his throat awkwardly. "We need to go wake up Vincent."
A low growl made him pause and look over at Asher who awkwardly glanced away, making him crack a smile.
"And perhaps some breakfast while we're at it," he chuckled as she shot him a small frown and they returned to Vincent's home.
The Doctor was quick to make up something to eat with what Vincent had lying around and Amy had dragged Asher into helping her collect sunflowers to display all over the garden for when Vincent woke up. Ever impatient, the Doctor went up to rouse him and Vincent soon leaned out his bedroom window in surprise at the display.
"I thought I'd brighten things up to thank you for saving me last night," Amy replied with a smile.
"Ah…"
"I thought you might like, you know, possibly to perhaps paint them or something? Might be a thought."
Asher snorted, earning a glare from Amy as she snatched a piece of bread from a bowl the Doctor had left behind on the table.
"Yes, well, they're not my favorite flower," Vincent admitted, eyeing one of the flowers nearest his window as the Doctor returned and slid a plate of eggs over toward Asher.
"You don't like sunflowers?" Amy asked, surprised.
"No. It's not that I don't like them. I find them complex. Always somewhere between living and dying. Half-human as they turn to the sun. A little disgusting. But, you know, they are a challenge."
The Doctor smiled up at his description. "And one I'm pretty sure you'll rise to but moving on. There's something I need to show you."
The group moved into his home and the Doctor handed Vincent a scrap of paper his machine had printed out, showing the Krafayis.
"That's him. And the eyes, without mercy," Vincent breathed as the Doctor explained.
"This is a creature called the Krafayis. They travel in space. They travel as a pack, scavenging across the universe. And sometimes one of them gets left behind. And because they are a brutal race, the others never come back. So, dotted all around the universe are individual, utterly merciless, utterly abandoned Krafayis. And what they do is, well, kill, until they're killed. Which they usually aren't. Because other creatures can't see them."
"But I can," Vincent muttered, looking over at Asher as she solemnly prodded at the remnants of her meal. "And you as well?"
"Sort of," she replied, offering him a grimace of a smile. "When it moves, I can see it more clearly but… Well, maybe I'm just sympathetic toward animals but I don't think it's his fault. More than being brutal merciless killers I think they're just… just animals. They abandon the weak to survive and those left behind are… scared."
"You wish to help it," Vincent murmured, understanding what she wasn't saying.
"I would like to," Asher breathed, looking up when the Doctor placed a hand on her shoulder.
"Yes, and that's why we are in a unique position today, my friend, to end this reign of terror and potentially help a lost and frightened creature lashing out. So, feeling like painting the church today?"
"And the creature?" He asked.
"Take my word for it. If you paint it, he will come."
"Okay," Vincent agreed. "I'll get my things."
"In your own time," the Doctor said and Asher looked up when he continued. "And I promise you, we'll be out of your hair by this time tomorrow."
Vincent paused in the doorway for half a second and Asher went to try and say something but the artist walked out before she could. The Doctor was rather clueless about the whole thing, more focused on the danger they were placing a rather famous artist in.
"This is risky."
"Riskier than normal?" Amy asked and he gave her a serious look.
"Well, think about it. This is the middle of Vincent Van Gogh's greatest year of painting. If we're not careful, the net result of our pleasant little trip will be the brutal murder of the greatest artist who ever lived. Half the pictures on the wall of the Musèe d'Orsay will disappear. And it will be our fault."
I waited downstairs when Amy rushed up at the sound of shouting. The Doctor had gone to figure out what was taking Vincent and given how poorly I dealt with comforting people, I chose to stay where I was. He and Amy returned only a moment later—Amy looking rather downtrodden herself—and the Doctor caught my gaze. He offered a small, sad smile, lightly kissing my temple and giving my leg a pat before turning to Amy.
"Come on. We have to do this on our own. Go to the church at the right time and hope the Krafayis still turns up."
He went over to get some things only for Vincent to come downstairs and interrupt him.
"I'm ready. Let's go."
I eyed him for a moment, wishing I wasn't able to practically feel the dark ooze of his depression looming over him as he sorted out what he needed to bring. I offered to bring his easel while Amy carried a canvas and the Doctor brought his machine; all packed away in a suitcase. Amy though, hung close to him as we walked, leaving the Doctor and I to trail slightly behind as they chatted.
"How's the head?" The Doctor asked me then, drawing my gaze away from Vincent's back.
"Oh, it's fine. Like I said, just a little cut," I waved off but he cracked a small smile.
"That's good, though I wasn't talking about that." He looked over at Vincent too. "You're picking up on it, aren't you? His emotions."
I hesitated, but nodded. "Yes. It's a bit… odd. I'm the one used to having my emotions noticed, not the other way around."
"You've gotten better about it," he pointed out with a smile, lightly tapping the back of my hand. "I'm not sensing as much from you as before; when you were still new to it. It's a bit more noticeable when we're touching but otherwise, I'd have to be looking for it. You feeling the emotions of others is just the next step."
I shot him a look. "Next step? The only time I was hyper-aware of other people's emotions before it was a bad thing."
"Well, you were brand new to it all. Senses heightened to the brink and being surrounded by all those scared people during that Year, it was understandable that it would be a bit much."
"So, why can I feel Vincent's emotions now?" I asked, trying to work out the rules to my telepathic abilities. "I'm not feeling everyone else's really."
"You are," he argued lightly. "They're just not as potent as his. It's… unfortunate but Vincent Van Gogh was always a delicate man. The way his life ends is tragic and those sorts of emotions will come off far stronger than most others."
I lowered my voice a bit, gaze drifting toward Amy's back. "Shouldn't I feel Amy's then? After what happened with Rory…"
Either my hold on my emotions had slipped or the Doctor had heard the hint of guilt in my voice, and he reached over and took my hand, giving it a squeeze.
"What happened wasn't your fault," he muttered.
"I've not even been there yet," I breathed, giving him a light warning about spoiling anything important. "I just… Well, I'm sure she wasn't pleased with me."
"She'll understand."
I scoffed. "Yeah, no. Me watching as her husband is erased from existence when I could have done something about it?"
"There was nothing—"
I turned toward him. "In her eyes?"
He pursed his lips, understanding what I was saying but obviously not liking what it implied.
"I'm just saying that something like that isn't easily forgiven," I muttered. "It doesn't take a genius to see that if she had her memories, she would not want me here."
We were silent for a moment before he spoke.
"It really wasn't your fault," he murmured.
"And I will do my best to remember that when I get there," I offered him with a small sigh. "I'm still trying to get used to the idea that some things can't be changed and some things are entirely out of my control whether I know about them or not."
The thought of the Twelfth Doctor going blind sent another roll of unease through me that the current Doctor was quick to notice; giving me a worried frown as we moved further into the countryside. Thankfully, Vincent drew our attention away from my issues as he pried a little into what had happened with Amy.
"Sometimes these moods torture me for weeks, for months. But I'm good now. If Amy Pond can soldier on, then so can Vincent Van Gogh," he hummed easily, not seeing how his words upset her a little.
"I'm not soldiering on. I'm fine," she replied, swinging their hands between them.
"Oh, Amy. I hear the song of your sadness. You've lost someone, I think."
"I'm not sad," she argued as a tear rolled down her cheek.
"Then, why are you crying?" Vincent pointed out, making her reach up to wipe it in confusion. "It's all right. I understand."
"I'm not sure I do," she murmured, and the Doctor hastily interrupted before they could stumble upon anything concerning.
"Okay. Okay. So, now we must have a plan. When the creature returns—"
"Then we shall face him again," Vincent declared, determination oozing from every pore.
"Well, yes, tick," the Doctor said, pretending to mark off a box as we stopped walking. "But last night we were lucky. Amy or Asher could have been killed. So this time, for a start, we have to make sure I can see him too."
"And how are we meant to do that suddenly?" Amy asked, all traces of their previous conversation gone.
"The answer's in this box. I had an excellent, if smelly, godmother."
We started to move again but spotted a funeral procession heading our way.
"Oh, no," Vincent murmured. "It's that poor girl from the village."
We all moved aside and Vincent took off his hat, all of us bowing our heads respectfully as they passed; their eyes sharp with distaste.
"You do have a plan, don't you?" Amy asked, worried.
"No. It's a thing. It's like a plan but with more greatness," the Doctor replied and I rolled my eyes, leaning toward her.
"I've got more of a plan than he does. He just makes it up as he goes along."
"I do not!"
"Yeah, you do," I countered, nodding toward the road. "Come on. The church won't paint itself."
We made it to the church a little while later and Vincent took the easel from me with a small smile, setting it up how he liked it and settling onto a stool as the Doctor impatiently leaned toward him.
"And you'll be sure to tell me if you see any, you know, monsters."
"Yes. While I may be mad, I'm not stupid," Vincent grumbled.
"No. Quite. And, to be honest, I'm not sure about mad either. It seems to me depression is a very complex—"
"Sh. I'm working," Vincent shushed him and before he could go and start harassing the man with his boundless energy, I snagged the Doctor's sleeve and lightly tugged him away toward the base of a nearby tree.
"Come on. Let him paint."
The Doctor pouted as I took a seat on the ground and patted the grass beside me. He dropped down with a muttered complaint, folding his arms over his chest before I sighed and turned; lying across the grass with my head on his thigh. He glanced down at me with a raised brow but I closed my eyes and pointedly ignored the look, reaching up and offering him a hand. He slowly uncrossed his arms and placed his hand in mine, letting me hang onto it lightly and rest it over my stomach.
"Help me work out my abilities or something," I suggested. "He needs to work in peace and you need to be occupied for the next few hours—"
"Hours?" He whined, getting ignored.
"Tell me a story," I tried, running my thumb back and forth over the back of his hand. "Take a moment to do something other than running."
"But I like running."
"And I like building copious amounts of fishtanks but if we both did what we wanted, then we wouldn't get anywhere, would we?" I countered, peering up at him as he wrinkled his nose. "Come on. Tell me about how you stole the moon and the president's wife."
He hesitated before frowning slightly. "Who told you about that?"
I cracked a smile, closing my eyes again as I felt his other hand carding through my hair. "You did… or the Master did, technically… Or he will, I think."
My brows furrowed at the thought, trying to remember where I heard it—which episode, which Master, which Doctor—but a light trickle of calm nudged the thoughts away. My body relaxed without me knowing I was even tense, sinking into the grass with the Doctor's little mental encouragement.
"Well… I suppose I could tell you about it," he murmured, relaxing a bit himself as he settled in. "Though, it wasn't the President's wife, actually, but their daughter."
Dusk had fallen and the Doctor was surprisingly quiet, drawing Amy's gaze toward him. She cracked a small smile, seeing him idly flipping through a small book as his fingers carded through a slumbering Asher's hair. She was resting her head on his lap, her face now tucked toward his stomach and an arm wrapped around his back, entirely at peace. A small part of her felt jealous of their relationship, silently wishing she had something like that when there was a flicker of devastation that trickled through her with some unknown source. She frowned slightly, looking away and trying to figure out what that had been when Vincent suddenly shouted, startling her.
"There!"
The Doctor was quick to wake Asher, bolting to his feet as she attempted to rub the sleep out of her eyes and get up herself.
"He's at the window!" Vincent said, gesturing to the window as the Doctor looked in confusion.
"Where?"
"There. On the right."
"As I thought," he drawled, lying through his teeth. "Come on, Asher. We're going in."
"Well, I'm coming too," Vincent insisted and the Doctor went to stop him.
"No. You're Vincent Van Gogh… No."
"But you're not armed," Vincent pointed out as Asher came over with a yawn.
"We're not there to kill it or hurt it. We don't need to be armed."
"She's right. Besides, I am armed.
"What with?"
"Overconfidence, this," he said, lifting up his suitcase with his machine. "And a small screwdriver. I'm absolutely sorted. Just have to find the right crosactic setting and stun him with it. Sonic never fails. Anyway, Amy? Only one thought, one simple instruction. Don't follow me under any circumstances."
He made a gesture as though he would be watching them as Amy nodded.
"I won't."
"Ash, hurry up!" The Doctor called, taking off toward the church as Asher lagged behind and looked at the two.
"If you are going to follow us—because I know you're terrible at listening to instructions, Amy—I highly suggest coming unarmed. Artist or not, I will knock you unconscious if I see you with any sort of weapon or weapon-like object."
Amy winced, leaning toward Vincent. "Yeah, I'd hold her to that. I've seen her knock out some big guys."
"And stay safe," Asher pressed as she bounded off after the Doctor. "I really don't need to worry about possibly killing a famous artist."
She caught up with the Doctor, making him jump and take in a slow, steadying breath to keep from letting out a scream.
"Could you not?"
"Sorry," Asher apologized with a small smile, lightly nudging his mirror out of her face.
"We seriously need to get you a bell or something."
"Thought about it," she murmured, looking around for the Krafayis herself. "Tying a little one to my shoelaces or around my ankle or something. I've scared coworkers before with my sneaking around. So, plan?"
He pulled his sonic out and gave the room a scan, eyeing the window that Vincent had seen the creature in, heading over cautiously only for Asher to stiffen and look to her right.
"Doctor! Your left! Duck!"
He dropped down to the ground, shattering his machine's mirror in his panic and Asher clapped her hands across the room.
"Hey! Come on, big fella! This way!"
"Asher, don't!" The Doctor shouted but already heard the creature head in her direction only to stare in surprise as she quickly slipped to the side and watched a spot ahead of her.
It seemed her quiet footfalls were coming in handy here as the creature missed attacking her and didn't know where she went. She backed up to his side, unstrapping the machine from his chest, and helping him back up on his feet.
"It's blind," she whispered, voice as soft as she could make it. "It follows sound more than anything. So, we need to stay quiet and you need to get your stun setting right, because Amy will—"
"What about me?"
The two barely resisted shouting in surprise as Asher quickly covered Amy's mouth with her hand and shushed her.
"Be quiet. It can't see us but it most certainly can hear us."
"Quick, in here," the Doctor said, pushing the two into the confessional and slipping in on the other side.
"How good is its hearing?" Amy asked, before letting out a scream when it bumped into the confessional, making Asher groan.
"Good enough! Stop screaming!"
"Hey!" Vincent shouted from outside the box. "Are you looking for me, sonny? Come on, over here. Because I'm right here waiting for you."
The artist was fending it off with a chair and called out to the trio in the confessional as he did.
"Come on! Quickly! Get behind me!"
The group did as Asher eyed the Krafayis uneasily and the Doctor tried to get his sonic working.
"Doing anything?" He asked as Asher shook her head and they backed out into the courtyard of the church.
"Where is he?"
"Where do you think he is, you idiot?" Vincent huffed. "Use your head."
The Doctor waved his sonic again. "Anything?"
"Nothing."
"He actually liked that one," Asher muttered, brows furrowing. "Weird that I could feel that."
The Krafayis shifted around behind them and Asher grabbed the Doctor, pulling him along with her as Amy called out.
"In here!"
The group ducked into the crypt and shoved at the door until Vincent stomped on the Krafayis's foot in the way and they were able to close it and catch their breaths.
"Right. Okay. Here's the plan. Amy, Rory—"
"Who?" Amy asked and he closed his eyes at the mistake, correcting himself. "Sorry, uh, Vincent."
"What is the plan?" Amy pressed.
"I don't know, actually. My only definite plan is that in the future I'm definitely just using this screwdriver for screwing in screws."
"Give me a second—"
"No," Asher stopped Vincent before he could run off, grabbing hold of his arm and making him frown. "No. Stay here. Leave the easel. I said we're not here to hurt it. We don't need a weapon."
"How did you—" Vincent shook off the question he was going to ask for a different one. "Then, how do you expect us to deal with this monster?"
"It's as much of a monster as you are," she scolded him, making him jerk back slightly before her words caught up to her and she winced. "Sorry. I-I didn't mean it like that. I just… It's just scared. A-A scared, blind creature that doesn't know what it's doing."
"I suppose we could try talking to him," the Doctor suggested.
"Talking to him?" Amy asked as though he were mad.
"Well, yes. Might be interesting to know his side of the story. Yes, though maybe he's not really in the mood for conversation right at this precise moment," the Doctor said as the creature slammed against the door. "Well, no harm trying. Listen. Listen!"
The creature went quiet and the slamming stopped, so the Doctor took a chance.
"I know you can understand me, even though I know you won't understand why you can understand me. I also know that no one's talked to you for a pretty long stretch, but please, listen. I also don't belong on this planet. I also am… alone. If you trust me, I'm sure we can come to some kind of, you know, understanding. And then, and then, who knows?"
The window shattered behind them then, making Amy cry out as Vincent covered her from the glass and the Doctor did much the same with Asher.
"Alright. What now?" Amy asked, hissing under her breath.
"Doctor," Asher spoke up, drawing his gaze toward her as she kept an eye on the creature. "Could you get the Tardis and bring it here?"
"It would take time," he muttered. "Time we probably don't have. What's it up to now?"
"It's moving round the room. Feeling its way around. It's like it's trapped. It's moving round the edges of the room," Vincent answered as they moved toward a pillar well out of its way.
"Because it's blind. Look. If you can't bring the Tardis here, can you at least get the right setting to stun it? Because I'm running out of options and have already changed something that I'm hoping won't end up with us dealing with a very dead, very famous artist."
"Okay. Okay, alright. I'll try the sonic," he offered, wincing as some flags nearby were knocked over. "Might take some time."
"We have time so long as we're quiet," Asher murmured as they ducked down behind a stone table and the Doctor got to work.
"What did you change?" He asked, giving her a brief glance.
"Vincent was supposed to grab his easel," she murmured, voice holding a sadness to it as she stared across the room at the creature. "It would charge and he would… accidentally but he would kill it."
"What?" Vincent breathed, drawing her attention toward him.
"I'm sorry. I know this probably doesn't make much sense to you but… that was a possibility for this universe. I'm just trying to change it, to save the Krafayis." She turned back toward the shuffling beast solemnly. "It's just scared and lonely. I'm just worried about what stopping its death will do."
"I don't understand," the artist questioned. "You… You've changed the future?"
Asher pursed her lips and the Doctor explained quietly.
"Asher has a gift. Something that lets her see potential, possibilities. The only problem is, if she changes something, it can cause ripples. Preventing you from grabbing your easel might save the Krafayis but it might lead to one of us getting killed instead."
"I can't see my own future or what happens when I alter something," Asher muttered, lightly reaching a hand out and tucking them around the other side of the stone as the Krafayis moved closer to their side of the room. "I can only prepare myself for what might happen and hope I'm not so useless that I cause more harm than good."
"Ash," the Doctor lightly scolded and she took in a deep breath and let it out.
"Yes. I know. Positive thinking or whatever. Do you have the setting yet?"
"I believe… so! Ah-ha! Let's try that. Where is it?"
"Heading this way, you loudmouth," Asher scolded, tucking Amy and Vincent behind her nervously as the creature approached. "Let's hope that's the right setting!"
The Doctor lifted his sonic and the Krafayis cried out. "Anything?"
"It's doing something!" Asher said, wincing at the noise. "Shaking its head and—Watch it!"
She saw the swiping claws that the Doctor couldn't, half-tackling him to the ground as he adjusted the settings. They hit the ground hard and Vincent picked up the sonic that had skittered across the floor.
"Doctor?" He called out, uncertain of what to do only for his eyes to widen at the sight of red.
"Ash! Asher!" The Doctor called out, clinging to the woman sprawled over him and holding up shaking hands at the sight of her bleeding and torn back.
The Krafayis was heading their way though, drawn by the noise and scent of blood and Vincent lifted the sonic and winced, hoping that it would do what they needed it to and stun the creature. The sonic let out a high-pitched whine and the Krafayis screeched, jolting back from the couple on the floor and shaking its head wildly before its body went slack and collapsed. Vincent stared at it in shock, looking at the small metal device in his hands in amazement before Amy's voice drew him out of his daze.
"Is she alright? Doctor, is she okay?"
He hurried over as well, worried about the woman who'd been so kind to such a scared creature, and hoping the injuries were better than they appeared.
"Sonic," the Doctor said, reaching for the device that Vincent happily handed over.
The once cheerful, energetic man looked devastated and it was a startling change in his demeanor to what he once was, in Vincent's eyes. They must be close. The Doctor clung to Asher tightly, running the sonic over her with worried eyes as Vincent's gaze caught on her hand.
"Ah! She's alive!" He said in relief, seeing her fingers clutch tightly to the back of the Doctor's tweed coat.
"Yes, but I need to get her back to the Tardis," the Doctor breathed, looking over his readings in concern. "Infection could set in and she's losing a lot of blood."
There was the smallest of breathy whispers that Vincent couldn't make out but the Doctor turned his gaze toward the Krafayis.
"Yes. Yes, I know we need to deal with the creature but it should stay stunned for a bit longer." He got up carefully, taking Asher up with him in his arms before turning to Amy. "Take Vincent outside. If it does wake up, we don't want him in here."
Amy hesitated but Vincent went ahead and took her hand.
"Come. We can lock the beast in here, in any case." He turned to the Doctor. "Take care of her, Doctor. She is… kind."
"I know," the Doctor said softly, taking Asher and hurrying from the church.