Fate's Design (2/?)
Fate's Design
Chapter One: Chris
Part Two
A/N: The last part of the first chapter. We all know how it ends since it's a re-write of Rose, but let's play guess the Bad Wolf reference! Anyway, some dialogue is changed, naturally, due to the difference in gender, but all in all it doesn't differ much.
Should I continue putting this up? I know it's a long chapter, but dividing this into four just seemed unnecessary.
Chapter One
---
Understandably, Mary wasn't too enthusiastic about the entire thing.
"What if he's a serial killer?" She panicked as she drove him to the address he had requested. "Or an online rapist? Oh, god, he could be one of those child molesters…"
Chris looked at her, torn between skepticism and disbelief. "Seriously, Mary? He has kids, a wife, and a Pomeranian dog. I think I can handle a Pomeranian."
"He told you that! That's what an internet psychopath would say! Get your guard down, and wham! Skinned alive!"
Wincing, Chris hastily exited the car. "I'm a big boy, Mary. Stay out here if you want to, but I'm going in."
He quickly crossed the street, feeling a tight coil of apprehension gather in his stomach. The man, Clyde, seemed to have a lot of knowledge about the Doctor, but was skittish about what he said. Even Chris didn't give out all of his knowledge- simply mentioned that he had bumped into her one day after work. Overall, though, he seemed like a nice guy, and Chris knew that he meant well.
His knocks were answered by a freckled young kid with unruly brown hair. The boy looked at him suspiciously, and Chris tried a polite smile. "Hi. I'm looking for Clyde."
The boy rolled his eyes. "Dad!" He called. "It's one of your nutters!"
Affronted, Chris glanced back at Mary to make sure she was still behaving (It seemed she had her cell phone out, probably ready to call the police at a moment's notice), and turned when a man's voice broke through his thoughts. "You must be Chris," He said, smiling. "I'm Clyde."
"Hello," He replied, shaking his hand. "Sorry, but I don't have long; my girlfriend's waiting in the car. She's convinced you're going to murder me."
Clyde smiled at that. "Oh no, no murders." He waved at Mary, who gave him a suspicious look, but Chris was relieved to see that the phone had vanished from sight. "Come on back," Clyde continued. "We'll talk in the shed."
Chris entered the house, instantly smelling the lingering scent of pancakes. He smiled, stopping briefly to let a three-year-old dash past, dressed in nothing but pajama bottoms and what seemed to be a paper hat. Another child, a girl, was chasing after him, both giggling madly. His smile grew a little wider.
Just because he was scared of a domestic life didn't mean he didn't hate it. Well, maybe he did a bit (Laundry? The washing machine hated him, he knew it did, and the oven burned all his food in spite). Still, if other people were happy living in one place, doing the same thing day in and day out, raising kids, all well and good. More power to them. It just wasn't his thing.
Clyde showed him to the shed, a small building littered with newspaper clippings, books, magazines, papers, pictures, and diagrams on the inside. An old computer struggled for room on the far wall while a giant poster of the world covered with pins, strings, and slips of paper dominated the one to the right. Every available surface was covered in items, and he glimpsed a drawing of a wolf with glowing gold eyes partially hidden under a thick book over genetics and heredity. His fingers brushed over it as Clyde entered, closing the door carefully behind him.
"A lot of this stuff is quite sensitive," He explained as he searched for something. "I couldn't just send it to ya. People might intercept, if you know what I mean." His nervous look and gesture instantly made Chris understand, and he nodded. Conspiracy theories and alien sightings were all well and good under the internet's relative anonymity, but if the government ever got a hold of some people it was safe to say the sites and authors would suddenly disappear. Somewhat relieved, Clyde continued. "If you dig deep enough, and keep a lively mind, this doctor keeps cropping up all over the place." He pulled a blue folder from a shelf on the wall, holding it protectively. "Politcal theories, conspiracy theories, even ghost stories. No first name, no last name, just… the Doctor. Always the Doctor. And the title appears to be passed down from mother to daughter; it appears to be an inheritance." He had come to stand by Chris, and pointed to a small laptop on the table behind them. "That's your Doctor there, isn't it?"
It was the website Chris had stumbled upon. "It is," He agreed, peering at it.
"I tracked it down to the Washington Public Archive just last year," Clyde explained. He began to rifle through the folder. "The online photo is enhanced, but if you look at the original…" He produced a bag of papers, and began flicking through them for Chris to see. He watched, amazed, as the shots got wider, eventually becoming a scene from the day Kennedy was assassinated.
"That must be her mother," Chris mumbled, awed that they looked so much alike.
His comment must have given Clyde encouragement, for now he jumped up and hurried over to another shelf. "Going further back, April 1912." He came back with a family portrait. "This is a photo of the Daniels family of South Hampton, and friend." He pointed to the woman on the far right, and once again, he saw the image of the Doctor staring up at him. Clyde, caught up in his little history lesson, was apparently oblivious to his astonishment and confusion. "This was taken the day before they were due to sail to the New World on the Titanic. And for some unknown reason they cancelled the trip and survived."
As Clyde showed him more pictures of the same serious girl, dressed in the same leather jacket and dark jeans, Chris's apprehension and confusion became more pronounced. This girl had more secrets then she had let on, and a large legacy to uphold; no wonder she had seemed so alone. It seemed her family went as far back as the beginning of history. And yet, in every one of those pictures, the same haunted brown eyes and broken spirit was evident in her gaze.
Clutching the latest picture, Clyde looked at him in earnest. "The Doctor is a legend woven throughout history. When disaster comes, she's there. She brings the storm in her wake, and her one constant companion."
Something about those words chilled Chris to the bone. "Who's that?" He asked, almost afraid of the answer.
"Death."
Instead of horror, disbelief rose up in him. The image of a smiling, laughing Doctor walking beside him rose in his mind, and he wondered just how so carefree a creature could cause so much destruction. And yet, looking at all the photos of these identical women, he knew that there was more to her than he ever imagined. Swallowing heavily, he wondered if he had gone too far, dove too deep into the Doctor's life.
Clyde, apparently, was too intent on his message to worry about Chris's inner turmoil. "If the Doctor's back, if you've seen her, Chris, then one thing's for certain. We're all in danger."
And he began to believe him. Just slightly, he began to feel like the Doctor was trouble, that she was something to be avoided. But she had still saved him in the basement, hadn't she? She had still risked her life to destroy the creatures that would kill countless more if allowed to go free. She had saved him from that plastic hand. And she had allowed him the smallest glimpse of who she was as she held his hand. She couldn't be dangerous. Not when she was broken.
Chris opened his mouth to speak, to argue against this logic, but Clyde spoke as he gathered up his things. "If the Doctor's singled you out, if she's making house calls, then god help you." His face was shining with worry for him, for fear of the Doctor, and a desperation that Chris couldn't quite place. It was, he suddenly realized, desperation for answers, to simply understand this mysterious person and if they were truly a threat. Clyde seemed convinced that she was. Chris still wasn't sure. Clyde's findings and convictions had certainly struck a chord, however. Whoever the Doctor was, he would have to be careful in his research and in his dealings with her.
"Who is she?" He finally asked. "Who do you think she is?" The fact that he had been asking that a lot lately did not escape him.
Clyde considered seriously for a moment, grave. "I think she's the same girl," He said honestly, yet slowly, as if willing Chris to understand. "I think she's immortal. I think she's an alien from another world."
And Chris instantly felt disappointment flow through him. Of course, just when he was getting somewhere, it was all turned on its head by yet another alien freak. Sighing inwardly, he forced a bewildered expression. "This… this is a lot to take in. I… I think I need to go home, sort this out, think about all of this."
Clyde nodded. "Of course. Let me show you out."
After being guided through the house once more and a concerned 'be careful,' Chris was glad to hear the door close behind him as he crossed the street. Relieved to finally be away from the man's clutches, Chris opened the door and slid in. "You were right, he's a nutter," He grumbled to Mary. She seemed oddly stiff, but her smile reassured him. "What should we do? Pizza?"
"Pizza," Mary agreed happily.
Then again, Chris thought, he had been craving Chinese lately. He suggested this to Mary, but she repeated her decision, and drove off. Shrugging, he looked out the window, stiffening when Mary cut abruptly to the right.
"Watch where you're going!" He cried, grabbing the nearest object for stability. "Where do you think you are, America?"
Mary jerked the car to the left, flinging Chris into the window, before gaining control and driving off. Heart hammering, he stared at her, wondering just what had gotten into her. "You alright?" he finally asked, cautiously.
She didn't answer. She didn't speak during the entire car ride, actually, which made it decidedly awkward and very out of character- for Mary, at least. She would usually be rattling on about whatever friend did this and who broke up with whom to date whoever, and the silence worried him. He tried commenting on the state of the houses in this part of the neighborhood- posh, the lot of them- but even that failed to elicit a response. Deciding to give up, he leaned back into the seat and stared moodily out the window.
His thoughts drifted toward the Doctor, and the more he thought, the more Clyde's words began to sink in. He knew her as the harbinger of death. Chris knew her as suicidal, broken, and full of mysteries. He had barely known her for a day. That wasn't any time to really get to know someone, not as much as he believed he knew the Doctor, and all his interactions with her had seemed to be leading up to the fact that she was dangerous, riding on the wings of death and leaving chaos in her wake.
And yet, he couldn't get the haunted eyes, the broken smile, and the lonely spirit the Doctor had out of his mind.
In an effort to snap Mary out of whatever strange mood she seemed to have gotten in, and to stop the never-ending debate going on inside his head over the Doctor, Chris began talking about jobs after they had ordered. Mary's smile still persisted, never wavering, and was slightly intimidating. Though this unnerved him, he continued gamely, hoping that if the weirdness was ignored, it would go away.
"Think I should try the hospital?" he asked. "Suki said they had some spots open. Or, you know, dishing out chips at that diner on the corner. I could do A-levels." He thought about that for a second. "Maybe not. It's all Jaymee Stone's fault. I left school for her, and look where she ended up." Chris scowled at that. She had been the daughter of a middle-class salesman, who had ambitions to be an actress. She was decent at it, too, but her real talent existed in snorting drugs and getting drunk enough to forget she was in a relationship. After coming home to find yet another stranger in bed with her, Chris had called it quits, sworn off dating older women, and returned home to earn back the money Jaymee had stolen from him. He had found out three months later that she had been forced to flee the country due to debtors, and so far as he knew, was either in Paris or America stoned and sleeping her way across the country. Sighing, he shook his head, and forced a smile at Mary. "What do you think?" He asked, hoping she wouldn't suggest the computer shop.
Her response wasn't what he expected. "So, where did you meet this doctor?" She asked, her smile instantly dropping, and she leaned forward, a strange glint in her eye.
This alarmed Chris more than he let on. "I'm sorry. Wasn't I talking about me for a second?" Honestly, he didn't want to talk about the Doctor anymore, at least not until he finally sorted everything out. And Mary was giving off a strange vibe, one that screamed at him to run.
She didn't seem to hear him. "I reckon it all started back at the shop. Am I right? Was it something to do with that?"
Chris shifted nervously, playing with his napkin. Before, when he had suggested this trip, Mary had shown no interest in the Doctor, only to grumble about blowing up the building. It seemed the less she had to deal with the strange girl, the happier she was. Her sudden interest was strange, if not wrong. "No," he replied, feeling oddly defensive suddenly.
"Come on," Mary said, leaning back with a smirk- Chris's instincts grew louder.
But this was Mary, sweet, supportive, understanding Mary, his mind argued back. She was the one who helped you patch yourself together after Jaymee, who leant you money to get back on your feet, who dragged you out of your depression. Your best friend since childhood!
If he couldn't trust his oldest friend, who could he trust?
Chris swallowed, and then replied. "Sort of," He admitted.
"What was she doing there?" Her voice had become lower, more threatening, that demented smile back on her face. Chris knew that if Mary was jealous, she would have been throwing a tantrum right about now. This was more hostile.
He didn't want to talk about this, not now! Chris shook his head, frowning at her. "I'm not going on about it," he said. "I know it sounds daft, but… I don't think she's safe. She's dangerous."
There. That should appease her, and he could move on to safer, more controllable topics. Even saying that small amount was like pulling a wailing, struggling, kicking and screaming three year old away from the play area.
"But you can trust me, sweetheart," She said, sweetly, then inexplicably added, in various tones of voice, "babe, honey, sugar, babe, sweetheart," as if she barely knew she was doing it. Chris stared. Mary never, never ever ever called him pet names, claiming they were daft and for old couples, like their parents. He was about to question it when she went on, oblivious to her slip up. "Tell me what the Doctor's planning so I can help you, Chris. Cause that's all I want to do, sweetheart, babe sugar babe babe sweetheart."
If the first strange mention of the pet name was weird, this was insane. Chris, utterly flabbergasted, looked at her in concern. "What are you doing that for?" He asked.
Mary was staring at him intently, not blinking, the smile gone. Chris met her gaze with a concerned frown, ignoring the waitress who came up to them and offered them a glass of champagne. The fact that a low-key pizza place even offered champagne escaped him, as Mary's odd behavior was more pressing.
"We didn't order champagne," Mary said, not breaking eye contact. She leaned in, grabbing Chris's hand. "Where's the Doctor?" She insisted, her voice dark, her eyes threatening.
The waitress, apparently giving up on Mary, came to him. "Sir, your champagne!"
"It's not ours," Chris said, distracted. "Mary, what's wrong?" She hadn't shown such interest in the Doctor, not until they had left Clyde's house. What was with her?
"I need to find out how much she knows so where is she?" Her voice was definitely threatening, and Chris recoiled the slightest bit.
"Doesn't anybody want the champagne?" The waitress asked, exasperated.
Mary rolled her eyes. "We didn't order any-" she paused, then smiled evilly. "Ah. Gotcha."
Startled, Chris looked over his shoulder to see the Doctor with a smirk on her face. "Don't mind me," She said cheerfully. "I'm just toasting the happy couple." She had been shaking the glass, and added, cheekily, "On the house!" before popping the lid.
The cork shot off, hitting Mary square in the forehead. Chris stared in utter horror as Mary's face seemed to absorb it, before she spat it out of her mouth. Standing up ominously, she smiled evilly again. "Anyway," She said, and her hand flattened out to a paddle.
Someone screamed, and Chris jerked out of his frozen state. Jumping out of his chair and stumbling as he knocked it over, Chris ran to the nearest cover and stared in horrified fascination as Mary smashed through the table, heading for him. The Doctor, who had ran around the table, tackled Mary from behind and caught her in a headlock. Then as if she couldn't have made matters worse, gave a swift tug and pulled Mary's head off.
Chris felt like he was going to faint right there, especially when the head spoke. "Don't think that's going to stop me," It taunted, and the Doctor gave a delighted grin.
The couple nearest the severed head screamed, and Chris realized that Mary had somehow become one of the shop windows dummies from the store. He may not be the Doctor, but he could help save the others. Whirling, he hit the nearby fire alarm, yelling as loud as he could. "Everybody out! Get out, now!"
As the consumers scrambled for the front door, Chris ran the opposite direction, hoping that the living plastic that had replaced Mary would follow him. The Doctor was right behind him, the head tucked under her arm, as the headless creature smashed its way through the tables towards them. Chris took the chase through the kitchens, warning the workers as he went, before darting through the back of the building and exiting into the alley. Slamming the heavy, steel door behind her, the Doctor pulled out the silver tube and pointed it at the door. Chris ran on ahead, looking for a way out. Ignoring the blue police box perched innocently in the corner- what in the world was that doing there, anyway?- he went to the gate and tried to force it open, lock and all.
"Open the gate!" he called as the Doctor strode nonchalantly toward him. "Use the silver tube thingy!"
"Sonic screwdriver," the Doctor corrected, pocketing it.
"Well then, use it!"
"Nah," She said, giving him a disarming smile. "Tell you what, let's go in here!" she fished a key out of her pocket, using it to open the door to the blue box. She stepped inside as Chris ran over.
"Climb inside a wooden box?" He asked in disbelief. Was she bloody insane?
The living plastic was still banging on the door, causing it to buckle alarmingly. Chris gave it a long look, slightly bouncing from foot to foot, torn of indecision. There was the gate, another ally that led to who knew where, and the box. There was no way he trusted his life on a flimsy wood barrier when even the steel couldn't keep the plastic for long, so he decided to try his chances with the gate. It once more decided not to cooperate, but he did get it further open. Hope surged through him- surely, together, they could break through it.
He ran to the box to tell her so, flinging open the door and dragging it closed behind him. Soon as he turned to face the Doctor, however, the sight made him freeze.
Chris resembled a goldfish, his mouth opening and closing rapidly. How… how was it possible? It was a small box. A small, blue box, and a rather flimsy looking one at that. It couldn't be bigger. Just couldn't. He was hallucinating, surely, and ran out the door. If he stepped outside and got a better look, he would see a giant ship, not a harmless blue box…
But no. Even a second look proved that the blue box was a blue box, and not only that, it was bigger on the inside. Chris stared, chest heaving, trying to wrap his mind around it. Only when the plastic managed to smash a hole through the door did he finally snap out of his mini panic attack and run through the doors again.
"It's going to follow us," He said, desperately, stumbling up the ramp to the center of the room, where the Doctor was calmly walking around a central pillar. She was holding the head in one hand and the silver tube- sonic screwdriver- in the other, as if looking for something. "The assembled horde of Gangis Khan couldn't get through that door, and believe me, they've tried," she replied, not even looking at him. "Now, shut up a minute."
Chris shut up, still staring in wordless wonder at the interior. In a strange way, the inside was beautiful- coral struts arched up to support the ceiling, circling the central platform. The walls were covered in hexagons, some lit up, others not, with wires hanging down from the ceiling to connect to the central pillar. A greenish- blue light was emitting from the central pillar and the base, which the Doctor was currently leaning over. She had connected the head to several wires, and as he approached her hesitantly, she began to explain what she was doing.
"See, the arm is too simple. But the head's perfect." She was still facing away from him, and if Chris had spared the time from wondering at his surroundings, he would have noticed that it seemed intended, as if she was afraid of his reaction. His silence must have given her a clue, however, for she turned, stuffing her hands into her pockets and bouncing nervously on her feet. "Right. Where do you want to start?"
"Um…" He honestly had no clue what to say. "The… inside is bigger than the outside?"
"Yes." Her voice definitely had a nervous edge.
"It's alien."
"Yup."
Chris stared at her, seeing her nervous stance, her pursed lips, and the wary look in her eyes. Suddenly, it all clicked. Her strange behavior, how she had known about the plastic, how she had acted like she was superior to other humans (or, quite possibly, just him), how she had been able to look exactly the same for hundreds of years, how her reaction to Mary's plastic body didn't cause fear, only excitement, and even Clyde's insistence on her identity. "Are you alien?" He breathed, unsure of whether or not he wanted the question answered.
"Yes." There was a short, awkward pause, but Chris hadn't missed the slight pride in her voice when she had responded. Then, the Doctor seemed to resort back to her nervous state, even more apparent than before, still bouncing on her feet. "That alright?" she asked, hesitantly.
Chris was surprised to find out that he wasn't in the least bit surprised- it was as if he had known all along. "Yeah," He replied automatically, hoping she would trust him.
The Doctor instantly relaxed, a faint smile appearing on her features. "It's called the TARDIS, this thing. T-A-R-D-I-S. That's Time And Relative Dimension In Space."
That was the final blow that sunk in. An alien that looked human, he could deal with. A plastic creature that looked like Mary- that, too, was bearable to a point. But knowing that the box that was bigger on the inside was an actual space ship, looking otherworldy and named as if it was any other regular ship, broke him. Wide-eyed, he slowly sank to the floor, gripping the nearest handrail.
"That's ok," The Doctor said kindly. "Culture shock; happens to the best of us."
"Did they kill her?" He asked absently. "Did they kill Mary?"
"Oh." The Doctor's smile faltered and she looked genuinely confused. "I didn't think of that."
Chris's brain suddenly caught up and he froze, staring at her in open-mouthed horror. Then the fury overcame him and he lurched to his feet, stumbling ever so slightly. "She's my girlfriend," he growled. "They copied her and you pulled off her head and you didn't even think!" His hands were clenching and unclenching as his waist, his body trembling ever so slightly. Clyde was right. Death did follow this girl. "And now, you're just gonna let her melt!"
"Melt?!" The Doctor asked, jumping slightly, and whirled to face the center column. Her eyes widened as she saw the head melting, deflating and sinking into the strange glowing surface. "Nonononononono!" She cried, running over, sounding utterly distressed.
Chris's fury boiled higher. "What are you doing?!" He cried. She should be concerned about Mary, darn it all, not some stupid plastic head that tried to kill them! Mary had been a living, breathing, sweet, supportive human being, and because of the Doctor, she had died! And there she was, flicking random switches and pressing buttons in an effort to save that…that thing!
The Doctor dashed around the console as she tried to explain. "Finding the signal; it's fading!" The central column began to move, and a mechanical grating sound, exactly like the one he heard the last time he had seen the Doctor, sounded from deep inside the ….what was it? TARDIS?
She muttered something, looking at a computer screen, before calling out in distress once more. Dashing about the console, she flicked more buttons before getting a secure hold. "Almost there!" She called out to Chris, staring at the moving column. There was a final grinding noise before a deep reverberation, one that Chris felt vibrate through him, into his very soul.
The Doctor immediately dashed out when everything stilled. Horrified, he went to follow after her. "It's not safe out there!" He cried, knowing that the plastic creature was probably racing toward them as they spoke. Crazy suicidal alien, he thought darkly before running after her, only to stop in complete wonder and shock as he realized that the scenery was vastly different.
Somehow, inexplicably, they had moved. They weren't in the back ally of the pizza shop. They were by the Thames, the sounds of the city surrounding them. Utterly mystified, Chris followed after the Doctor in a daze, wondering how this could possibly be real.
The Doctor was pacing away, talking angrily. "I lost the signal. I was so close!"
"We've moved," He said dazedly, incapable of pointing out anything other than the obvious. A sudden thought occurred. "Does it fly?" Regarding it, Chris noticed that it had no wings, but then again, it was a magical alien space ship. The wings could be invisible, for all he knew, or folded into the sides.
The Doctor gave him a bitter look. "It disappears there then reappears here. You wouldn't understand."
He did, though, in a way. It was like a teleport on Star Trek- you would step onto a platform then appear on the planet below. The blue box was the teleport pad, and it transported you to a different part of the city. Like your own personal jet, only much faster and much more…well, alien. He was relieved, at least, that they had escaped the headless thing, but if they were here, what happened to the headless thing?
He had, apparently, spoken that aloud, for the Doctor paced away again, sounding angry in her response. "It melted with the head. Are you going to witter on all night?"
It had melted? Chris ignored the Doctor's angry paces and under-the-breath mutterings, and even her biting remark. Mary was dead now, truly gone. "I'll have to tell her mother," he realized. He was reasonably certain that he could contact her, through various channels and several long-distance calls. He would rack up quite a bill, too, but that wasn't what mattered.
That stopped the Doctor, at least, for she stared at him blankly. Annoyed that she didn't get that basic concept of informing family of a loved one's passing, he growled, "Mary. I'll have to tell her mother that she died. And you just went and forgot her, again!" The Doctor only rolled her eyes at this, looking thoroughly annoyed. Chris threw up his hands, finally done. "Look, you're right, you are alien." And, he added viciously to himself as he turned, a heartless, soulless husk that only did things for her own benefit.
"Look," The Doctor growled, sounding thoroughly angry at this point, "If I forget one kid named Mary-"
"She's not a kid!" He cried out.
"-then it's because I'm trying to save the lives of every stupid ape blundering about on this planet. Alright?"
"Alright?" He asked, his anger and annoyance ignoring the pain in her words.
"YES! It is!" She shot back, fists clenched, eyes blazing. Her voice had cracked slightly towards the end, and for the briefest moment, he saw the dark, unending pain in her eyes again. She was also shaking slightly, too, and that was enough to slightly clear the storm blazing about in his mind.
"If you are an alien," he said, stalking towards her, "How come you sound like you're from the north?"
The question surprised him as much as her, and she turned toward him in a defensive, if surprised, way. "Lots of planets have a north!" She insisted, almost childishly, as if she was blaming the whole incident on her brother when it was, in reality, her own fault.
Chris realized that his anger had almost dissipated by this point, merely because he had somehow realized that it truly wasn't her fault. It was his own, for letting Mary drive him to Clyde's house, for telling her about the Doctor- after all, she had warned him against it. If anyone was to blame, it was him, for he had caused her to be caught up in this.
Wanting to end the hostilities further, he tried to think of what else to say. The blue box out of the corner of his eye gave him an idea. "What's a police public call box?" He asked, because just like everything else, it didn't make sense. He expected space ships to be more… spacey. Not blue.
The Doctor blinked, and then gave a wide, happy grin. "It's a telephone box, from the nineteen fifties. It's a disguise."
Chris tried to hide the grin, but as soon as she started petting it and making cooing noises, he couldn't help the small laugh that came out. Seemed like ship captains everywhere, no matter their race, species, or background, were married to their ships. The Doctor probably spoke to it, too, knowing her, and didn't think twice about it either.
"Right," he laughed, as The Doctor seemed to hug the box. Time for something slightly less obsessive. "What about this living plastic? What does it have against us?"
The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "Nothing. It loves you," She said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the universe. "You got such a lovely planet. Full of smoke and oil and plenty of toxins and dioxins in the air; perfect." She walked over and leaned against the box, staring at him intently. "It's just what the Nestene Conciousness needs."
Chris suddenly remembered the conversation they had as he was chasing her through the Estates. It had seemed… unreal, when she first said that it wanted to take over the human race. Now, he realized that it was the complete and utter truth.
The Doctor went on to explain. "Its food stock was destroyed in the war; all its protein planets rotted. So, Earth equals dinner." She gave a sarcastic smile and pretended to eat, somehow making it look slightly morbid in the process.
He nodded, as it made sense. How many people had been dislocated by war, searching for other places to rebuild and live? "Any way of stopping it?"
The Doctor seemed utterly pleased by this, and pulled out a glass tube of blue liquid from her jacket. "Anti-plastic," she said, grinning.
Chris gave a little smile in return. "Anti-plastic," he agreed, laughing because it was so obvious and ordinary.
"Anti-plastic," She repeated again, waving it under his nose. "But first, I have to find it. How can you hide something that big in a city this small?"
London? Small? Chris blinked at that, but what was hiding? He voiced this aloud, hoping that she wouldn't give him that stupid-idiot look. Instead, she raised her eyebrows. "The Transmitter," She replied. "The Consciousness is controlling every single piece of plastic so it needs a transmitter to boost the signal."
"What does it look like?" He asked. Surely, it wouldn't be that hard to find.
"Like a transmitter. Round and massive, somewhere slap bang in the middle of London." She paced away again, brow furrowed, eyes darting around. "A huge metal circular structure. Like a dish, or a wheel, radial, somewhere close to where we are standing. Must be completely invisible."
She had turned to explain this to him, and Chris simply stared in disbelief. Not at her words, of course, although that was noteworthy in itself. It was more of the fact that the London Eye was surrounding her upper body like a halo, obvious and, to his utter amusement, ironic. Figures that she would know anything and everything there was to know about the Nestene Conciousness, yet miss the most obvious thing about it. She didn't even seem to notice it, either, only looking around calmly in front of her. "What?" She finally asked, noticing his expression.
Not trusting himself to speak lest he laugh aloud, he only nodded at the Ferris Wheel. The Doctor turned, gave it a glance, and then turned back. "What?" She repeated, utterly oblivious.
Chris, more amused than ever, nodded at it again. Of course, the Doctor only gave it another glance and simply repeated the question. Chris rolled his eyes.
The Doctor turned for the third time, stared at it some more, then looked at him with a faintly embarrassed look. "Oh," She said, and he was intrigued to see that she had turned slightly pink. Another look, and she grinned at him. "Fantastic," She announced, and he couldn't agree more.
Still grinning, she turned and ran, Chris right on her heels. Halfway along the block they grabbed hands, and he suddenly had all the energy in the world. Her hand fit perfectly into his, calloused and gentle and cool, and he knew that he would happily follow her to the end of the world so long as he could still hold her hand.
They ran to the base of the giant structure, barely out of breath, adrenaline still coursing through his veins. "Think of it," The Doctor said, searching for something. "Plastic, all over the world, every artificial thing waiting to come alive- The shop window dummies, the phones wires, the cables. . ."
"Breast implants," He said slyly.
She snorted in amusement, and then turned all serious once more. "Still, we found the transmitter. The Consciousness must be somewhere underneath."
This part Chris knew. How many times had he been here as a kid, looking at the river, and wondering where the service tunnels led? His mother had always ignored him, instead exclaiming over the various boats found on the river. To him, it was a place of mystery; to his little-kid mind, it led to dangerous, dark, strange places, filled with all sorts of giant animals and spiders, where little boys could have all sorts of adventures and heroics and arrive home in time for tea. If the plastic alien could be found anywhere, it would be in the service tunnels.
The Doctor came running at his call, and shrugged. "Looks good to me," She said, and he couldn't help the swell of pride that rose up within him. They dashed down the steps together, and the Doctor turned the wheel to open. Instantly, a dense cloud of smoke escaped, and a red glow lit up her face.
Chris blinked. Looks like the tunnels really did look like his childhood fantasies.
The Doctor climbed in first, and Chris followed right behind, slightly worried but otherwise strangely excited. He barely noticed the heat, easily looking over the Doctor's shoulder as she opened the nearest door and revealed a walkway. There was a strange growling sound, and something like liquid sloshing; peering down over the railing, he saw a giant pool of what looked like lava, rippling and moving around.
"The Nestene Consciousness," The Doctor said, looking down at the red and gold liquid. Chris's breath hitched ever so slightly at the thought that the liquid was alive. "That's it, inside the vat, a living, plastic creature." Her face was lit up from the light the alien gave off, flickering in her dark brown eyes and off her angled features. She was studying it, her face smooth and showing no emotion, simply a detached air of study. She looked a strange sort of beautiful in that light, a graceful soldier who danced to her own rhythm of chaos on the battlefield.
Shaking himself, Chris turned to the matter at hand. "Then tip in your anti-plastic and let's go."
The Doctor shot him a dark look. "I'm not here to kill it. I've got to give it a chance." She immediately turned and stepped quickly away, leaving Chris no time to think about her words. He suddenly realized that this was it; this was what everything had been leading up to, a life or death chance, between the human race and the Nestene Conciousness. The Doctor may not want to kill the living plastic, but Chris would take matter into his own hands if the need arose. He knew she was only trying to do something good, to save everyone and everything, but Chris knew that there wasn't such a thing as happy endings. His father's death was proof of that. So was everything with Jaymee, his entire life and the expectations towards him, and Mary's death.
The Doctor found a vantage point on one of the landings of the catwalk. "I'm seeking an audience with the Nestene Consciousness under peaceful contract, according to convention fifteen of the Shadow Proclamation." She said, firmly.
The pit roiled, and a growling erupted from the liquid. Chris staggered slightly when he realized that it was the creature's reply, but he didn't dwell too long on that since he had an inkling that the reply wasn't all butterflies and rainbows. Still, the Doctor thanked it, so he figured it was ok.
While she was speaking, Chris crept carefully down the flight of stairs, watching the liquid. He didn't exactly know where the eyes were, but with any luck it would be completely focused on the Doctor and not on him. He wasn't entirely certain what he was going to do- probably just stare at it in a mixture of horror and fascination until they were done talking- but he would be in a good spot to do it. That all went to pot when he saw Mary cowering in a corner, utterly frightened but alive.
He instantly ran to her, ignoring the Doctor's exasperated expression. She still followed him, though, apparently either getting permission from the plastic, or to watch over him. Well, he certainly didn't need protecting, and Mary was what was more important right now.
"Mary, it's me," He soothed as he approached his terrified girlfriend. "It's alright. I've got you."
She began sobbing uncontrollably. "That thing…it…it talks," She gasped in between tears.
Even though he was relieved to see her, Chris took one whiff and curled his nose. "You smell terrible," he announced, ignoring the slight guffaw from the Doctor. He rounded on her instead. "They kept her alive," He said, shooting her a look that was suspiciously smug.
She shrugged. "That was always a possibility. Keep her alive to maintain a copy."
The smugness vanished, to be replaced by annoyance. "You knew all along and you never said?"
"Can we keep the domestics outside, thank you?" She replied, her annoyance matching his. She didn't wait for a reply, either, simply continued on downstairs to resume the negotiations with the plastic.
Well then, it seemed he would have to handle this one himself. Helping the still sobbing girl upright- great, her mascara was running all down his shirt, and it would be a dickens to clean- he led her to a more secure area away from the grating to calm Mary down.
In all honesty, Chris was thankful beyond relief that Mary was alive, but it had vanished quickly now that she was safe in favor of what was happening between the Doctor and the liquid plastic alien. As Mary huddled on the floor, sniffing occasionally and clutching his pant leg, he watched as the Doctor once more approached the edge of the platform, her posture confident and controlled.
She proceeded to argue with it, kindly and politely, as the plastic replied in the strange growls that appeared to be its language. He really didn't care what they said- his attention was torn between watching the plastic move and Mary tugging on his pant leg, trying to get his attention- but nevertheless he admired the Doctor's bravery.
It was a good thing he was paying attention, for he noticed the plastic dummies advancing on the Doctor first. Still, even his warning was too late, as they quickly grabbed her arms and held her, quite firmly, in place as she struggled. He moved to interfere, but when the Doctor looked at him and gave a quick shake of her head, he paused, uncertain.
His heart plummeted when one rifled his pockets and pulled out the vial of anti-plastic. The Doctor seemed to worry too, for she cried out, "That was only insurance; I wasn't going to use it!" as the liquid roared a protest.
"I'm not attacking you, I'm here to help!" She pleaded. "I'm not your enemy, I swear I'm not!"
The creature roared again, and the Doctor blinked in confusion. "What do you mean?" She asked, before a previously unnoticed doorway slid open, revealing the TARDIS.
"No, no, honestly, no!" The Doctor cried in response to the liquid's roar. "Yes, that's my ship. "
The liquid roared again, and the Doctor stiffened. "That's not true, I was there!" She cried, and Chris's heart broke at the tone of her voice. It almost sounded as if she was fighting back tears. "I fought in the War, it wasn't my fault!" She waited for the reply, and then answered, in a broken voice, "I couldn't save your world; I couldn't save any of them!"
Chris had had enough. The shattered expression on her face was too awful to bear, and he knew that he would help her in any way he could. "What's it doing?" He cried.
"It's the TARDIS," the Doctor replied, still struggling. "The Nestene identified it as superior technology. It's terrified! It's going into the final phase!"
His blood turned cold. "What?"
"It's starting the invasion! Get out Chris, just leg it! Now!"
He didn't think, simply reacted. His mind had gone completely numb at the Doctor's words, and it was as if he was experiencing everything else out-of-body. His phone was out of his hand and ringing before he realized what had happened, and his mother was answering before he could blink.
"Mum?" He cried, hoping against hope that she was at home.
"Oh there you are!" She replied, chipper as ever. "I was just going to phone. You can get compensation, they said so. I got this document thing off the police. Don't thank me!"
Oh, of all the…! He didn't care about his stupid job now! "Where are you?" He demanded.
Jackie sounded a little defensive. "I'm in town!"
Horror filled him. Oh god, why couldn't his mother just be lazy and stay at home for once in her life! "Go home!" He pleaded, even though he knew she wouldn't listen.
"Darling, you're breaking up! Listen, I'm just going to do a bit of late night shopping. I'll see you later. Ta!"
The line went dead. Chris stared at the phone, frozen in dread and horror, knowing that she was going to die.
Lightning arched up from the vat, crackling and writhing in fury. It reached the ceiling, showering sparks down on everything below. Chris flinched, stuffing his phone in the pocket.
"It's the activation signal!" the Doctor called out. "It's transmitting!"
Chris took a moment to glare at her. For the first time, he wished she didn't have to explain every stupid thing they came across. She didn't care if his mother was stuck in the mall with hundreds of living plastic shop dummies. She didn't care if he was worried and scared to death about his family and friends in London. But he did, and if it was the last thing he would do, he would save them.
"Get out!" the Doctor cried as the room shook.
"The stairs are gone!" He shouted back, desperately looking for a way to escape. He nearly sobbed in relief when he remembered the TARDIS. Dragging Mary behind him, he ran over to the ship, grabbing the handle and pushing with all his might. It didn't budge.
"I don't have the key!" He said, voice shaking, as Mary helped him. Tugging her down and sitting slightly in front to shield her, he looked back at the Doctor, who was still fighting the dummy holding him. She was trying to free her arms to get at the anti-plastic, but the dummy was too strong.
Her words chilled him. "We're going to die," She said, voice cracking, her eyes filled with despair.
Chris inhaled, snapping his eyes shut. Come on, Chris, he thought. Get yourself together. You can do this, you know you can. You say you're gonna help her, so do it!
His eyes opened, and though his heart was still beating a frightened, frenzied pulse, his mind had gotten rid of the scared haze that had descended upon it. Looking for something, anything he could use, his eyes alighted on the still struggling Doctor.
She seemed to search him out, too, eyes wide and terrified, as if wanting to see at least one friendly face before her life ended. Their eyes connected, and for the briefest second, it was as if their minds were, as well.
"Time Lord…"
The whisper of a suggestion and a quiet, chiming tune was there at the back of his mind, and somehow he knew that it named the Doctor. Her eyes, wide and desperate, held eternity in their midst, ageless and unending, yet so very, very young at heart. Something within Chris bloomed, a strength he didn't know he had, a yearning that had lain dormant for untold years. Peace settled in his heart, and gently, he unwrapped Mary's arms from his neck and stood, blue eyes never leaving the Doctor.
Mary had latched on to his leg. "Leave her!" She begged, and the Doctor continued to look at Chris. Something in her gaze had changed; a silent question to save her, to return the favor in the basement.
His mind went to the city above, the world above, the people, who were running confused and scared as to why the plastic was trying to kill them. He thought of his mother, alone since her husband died, soon to join him if she hadn't already. He thought of Clyde and his family, Mary's mother, and all his friends. He even thought of Jaymee, for even she didn't deserve a death that awaited her in the form of a murderous living plastic creature. And finally, he thought of the Doctor, the one who opened his eyes to new possibilities and a new way of thinking, who had allowed him to live more in a few hours than he had in all his twenty-one years of life. She had given him hope of a better life, hope of a grand future, and there was no power in the universe that would stop him from helping her.
The Doctor gave the tiniest of smiles, and he gave one back; then he turned, and ran toward the nearest chain.
"I've got no A-levels," he said in reply to Mary's horrified shriek as he grabbed an axe, "No job, no future, but I'll tell you what I have got." The axe swung, breaking a chain from the wall. "Churchill Junior School Pole Vault State Qualifier- I got the bronze."
He ran forward, and then gave a flying leap off the platform, aiming for the living plastic holding the vial. The Doctor wriggled, whirled, and threw her jailer into the vat, before racing over and grabbing him as he swung back. They tumbled to the floor in an awkward pile of limbs and bodies, his head somewhere by her shoulder and hers under his arm, but they rolled off with little fuss and grinned as they helped each other up. "Now we're in trouble," she said, and they both looked down at the vat of the roiling, shrieking Nestene Consciousness.
The anti-plastic had been absorbed, the vial broken, and the Doctor's hand found his as they raced up the steps to the TARDIS. The room about them began to shake, the ceiling crumpled, and the floor was unsteady, but their hands never left the others and the thrill of victory swept through them both.
Mary was clinging onto the TARDIS when they arrived, and the Doctor dropped Chris's hand to get to her key. She shoved Mary in before her, and the girl whimpered and curled into a ball almost automatically. Chris paused to look at the plastic creature with a smug grin before hurrying after the Doctor, racing to join her at the center of the room.
The Doctor flicked a few switches and pushed a few buttons, her grin still in place. Chris was laughing, couldn't stop, relief and adrenaline still racing through his system. A part of him knew he was bordering on hysteria, so when he found himself sitting on the floor with his arms wrapped around his legs as the Doctor laid a hand on his shoulder, he realized that death had been closer than he had realized.
"You ok?" She asked, concerned.
Chris nodded, taking a shaky breath before responding. "Yeah. Is it…?"
The Doctor nodded, and he felt relief flood him. Smiling slightly, he leaned against the pillar, staring at her. "I never did thank you for saving my life," he mumbled.
"I never did thank you for saving mine," She responded, and they fell into helpless laughter. She squeezed his shoulder then helped him up. As he ran a quick inventory to make sure everything was still in one piece, the Doctor said, "I'm dropping you off a block away from your flat, Chris. I'm sure you can find your way home from there."
The central column grinded to a halt, and Mary was instantly out the door. She was over by the wall and cowering behind a wooden platform leaning against the wall by the time Chris emerged, dialing his mother's cell number.
The phone rang twice before his mother answered. "Chris! Chris, don't go outside, it's not safe! There….there were these things, and they were shooting, and…!"
Chris chuckled, and then hung up. She was safe. That was all that mattered at the moment.
Seeing the Doctor still inside the TARDIS, playing with something in front of her, Chris checked on Mary. Her wide, terrified eyes met his, and he sighed before jogging over to her. "Fat lot of good you were," he teased, helping her up.
She flinched at his touch, pointing at the entrance to the TARDIS instead. Chris looked up, seeing the Doctor leaning against the doorframe, smirking. "Nestene Consciousness?" She asked, "Easy." She snapped her fingers to prove it.
He rolled his eyes. "You were useless in there. You'd be dead if it wasn't for me."
The smirk softened to a genuine smile. "Yes I would. Thank you, again." There was a pause, and then she seemed to shake off whatever was on her mind. "Right then! I'll… be off." Her eyes shifted away for a moment, nervous, and then met his again, shyly. "Unless, I don't know… you could come with me."
Chris didn't dare to breathe. Was she serious? His heart began to swell a little, hope rising tentatively.
"This box isn't a London operative, you know. It goes anywhere in the Universe, free of charge." She continued, her hands clasped in front of her, as if still hiding. Chris opened his mouth to reply- of course he would go, why would she even have to ask?- before a small voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Don't," Mary whispered. "She's an alien, she's…she's…she's a thing!"
The Doctor frowned. "She's not invited." Her tone was a little annoyed and a little hurt. Chris couldn't blame her, really, for even after saving Mary's life, the girl had pretty much insulted her. Swallowing heavily, Chris glanced between the two of them, heart torn.
"What do you think?" The Doctor asked. Chris opened his mouth, but no words came out. "You could live here, fill your life with work and food and sleep, or you could go…anywhere."
Chris's heart thudded at that last word. How long had he wanted to travel? How long had he been waiting for an opportunity to do something great, to change his life, to live? Vaguely, he remembered that the feeling he had since New Years had stopped, and he knew that this was it, this was the chance he had been waiting for. All he had to do was just…say…yes…
"Is it always this dangerous?" He finally managed, feeling Mary wrap her arms around his waist, pinning him to his spot. She felt heavier than normal, weighing him down, reminding him of his duties here. He had his mother to look after, and Mary to watch over, and all sorts of duties and responsibilities.
The Doctor nodded. "Yeah," She agreed, her smile faltering for the slightest moment.
Mary whimpered as his body tingled, remembering how alive he had felt facing the Nestene Consciousness. Glancing down at her and seeing her terrified face, he remembered how she had helped him in his hour of need. For the first time since he met her, not only did he see the sweet, charming girl he had grown up with, he also saw a chain, keeping him in the life he longed to escape, imprisoning him to his life. Regret filled him. He shouldn't be thinking of her like this, he should… he should… no matter. He had to protect her. Swallowing, he felt his heart breaking as he replied, "I can't. I've, um… I've got to go find my mum and… well, someone's got to look after Mary, so…."
The Doctor's smile faded, until even the blank expression had a bitter disappointment to it. Her eyes were shielded, and that, more than anything, made him realize how much he had hurt her. "Ok," She finally said, the word sounding forced.
Chris tried to reply, tried to find a way to apologize, but his heart was broken and his spirit shattered, and no words could come.
After an awkward pause, in which Chris tried to convey everything he was feeling by his expression alone, the Doctor finally offered an olive branch. "See you around?" She said, hesitantly.
He couldn't reply, because he knew that she was lying. Even so, her eyes didn't leave his as she closed the door. Seconds later, the light on top of the box lit up, the otherworldly sound filled his ears, and the TARDIS disappeared from his life forever.
Chris wanted to cry, but Mary was there, staring at the place the box had disappeared with horror. "Come on," He said, quietly, helping her up. "Let's go."
Mary stumbled up, limping slightly, and he helped her along the ally. He was numb, barely noticing when Mary tried to grab his hand. He didn't know why he was feeling like this- he had saved the Doctor's life, he had thanked her, he had protected her when she couldn't save herself- but somewhere, in the splinters where his heart had been, he knew. This had been the chance of his life, the opportunity to become someone greater than anyone thought he could be… and he had let it slip past because of the chains keeping him here. Bitterness stole over his being. All that wishing, and for nothing. His life really was useless.
Then, a miracle. The sound of the TARDIS erupted into life around him, warming him, and he gasped, whirling around and letting go of Mary. To his utter disbelief and shining joy, the police box was materializing, not a foot from where it had disappeared. The Doctor opened the door a second later, a smile on her face. "By the way," She said nonchalantly. "Did I mention it also travels in time?"
Chris would have to be blind, deaf and stupid to not take a second chance. A grin slowly formed on his face, and the Doctor stood to the side, the doorway to eternity left open for him to enter. Heart singing, he turned to Mary. "Thank you," He said sincerely.
"Thanks for what?" She asked, confused.
His smile grew wider. "Exactly," He said, then kissed her goodbye on the cheek.
Without hesitation, he ran toward the TARDIS. Mary would move on, he knew. Find someone better, someone smarter, and someone normal. Earth may be the place of his birth, but the stars would be his home. All of time and space was at his disposal, waiting for him to discover it. Adventure, chaos, fun, danger, everything he couldn't have here was a TARDIS ride away.
He ran through the door, and entered his future.
Chapter One: Chris
Part Two
A/N: The last part of the first chapter. We all know how it ends since it's a re-write of Rose, but let's play guess the Bad Wolf reference! Anyway, some dialogue is changed, naturally, due to the difference in gender, but all in all it doesn't differ much.
Should I continue putting this up? I know it's a long chapter, but dividing this into four just seemed unnecessary.
Chapter One
---
Understandably, Mary wasn't too enthusiastic about the entire thing.
"What if he's a serial killer?" She panicked as she drove him to the address he had requested. "Or an online rapist? Oh, god, he could be one of those child molesters…"
Chris looked at her, torn between skepticism and disbelief. "Seriously, Mary? He has kids, a wife, and a Pomeranian dog. I think I can handle a Pomeranian."
"He told you that! That's what an internet psychopath would say! Get your guard down, and wham! Skinned alive!"
Wincing, Chris hastily exited the car. "I'm a big boy, Mary. Stay out here if you want to, but I'm going in."
He quickly crossed the street, feeling a tight coil of apprehension gather in his stomach. The man, Clyde, seemed to have a lot of knowledge about the Doctor, but was skittish about what he said. Even Chris didn't give out all of his knowledge- simply mentioned that he had bumped into her one day after work. Overall, though, he seemed like a nice guy, and Chris knew that he meant well.
His knocks were answered by a freckled young kid with unruly brown hair. The boy looked at him suspiciously, and Chris tried a polite smile. "Hi. I'm looking for Clyde."
The boy rolled his eyes. "Dad!" He called. "It's one of your nutters!"
Affronted, Chris glanced back at Mary to make sure she was still behaving (It seemed she had her cell phone out, probably ready to call the police at a moment's notice), and turned when a man's voice broke through his thoughts. "You must be Chris," He said, smiling. "I'm Clyde."
"Hello," He replied, shaking his hand. "Sorry, but I don't have long; my girlfriend's waiting in the car. She's convinced you're going to murder me."
Clyde smiled at that. "Oh no, no murders." He waved at Mary, who gave him a suspicious look, but Chris was relieved to see that the phone had vanished from sight. "Come on back," Clyde continued. "We'll talk in the shed."
Chris entered the house, instantly smelling the lingering scent of pancakes. He smiled, stopping briefly to let a three-year-old dash past, dressed in nothing but pajama bottoms and what seemed to be a paper hat. Another child, a girl, was chasing after him, both giggling madly. His smile grew a little wider.
Just because he was scared of a domestic life didn't mean he didn't hate it. Well, maybe he did a bit (Laundry? The washing machine hated him, he knew it did, and the oven burned all his food in spite). Still, if other people were happy living in one place, doing the same thing day in and day out, raising kids, all well and good. More power to them. It just wasn't his thing.
Clyde showed him to the shed, a small building littered with newspaper clippings, books, magazines, papers, pictures, and diagrams on the inside. An old computer struggled for room on the far wall while a giant poster of the world covered with pins, strings, and slips of paper dominated the one to the right. Every available surface was covered in items, and he glimpsed a drawing of a wolf with glowing gold eyes partially hidden under a thick book over genetics and heredity. His fingers brushed over it as Clyde entered, closing the door carefully behind him.
"A lot of this stuff is quite sensitive," He explained as he searched for something. "I couldn't just send it to ya. People might intercept, if you know what I mean." His nervous look and gesture instantly made Chris understand, and he nodded. Conspiracy theories and alien sightings were all well and good under the internet's relative anonymity, but if the government ever got a hold of some people it was safe to say the sites and authors would suddenly disappear. Somewhat relieved, Clyde continued. "If you dig deep enough, and keep a lively mind, this doctor keeps cropping up all over the place." He pulled a blue folder from a shelf on the wall, holding it protectively. "Politcal theories, conspiracy theories, even ghost stories. No first name, no last name, just… the Doctor. Always the Doctor. And the title appears to be passed down from mother to daughter; it appears to be an inheritance." He had come to stand by Chris, and pointed to a small laptop on the table behind them. "That's your Doctor there, isn't it?"
It was the website Chris had stumbled upon. "It is," He agreed, peering at it.
"I tracked it down to the Washington Public Archive just last year," Clyde explained. He began to rifle through the folder. "The online photo is enhanced, but if you look at the original…" He produced a bag of papers, and began flicking through them for Chris to see. He watched, amazed, as the shots got wider, eventually becoming a scene from the day Kennedy was assassinated.
"That must be her mother," Chris mumbled, awed that they looked so much alike.
His comment must have given Clyde encouragement, for now he jumped up and hurried over to another shelf. "Going further back, April 1912." He came back with a family portrait. "This is a photo of the Daniels family of South Hampton, and friend." He pointed to the woman on the far right, and once again, he saw the image of the Doctor staring up at him. Clyde, caught up in his little history lesson, was apparently oblivious to his astonishment and confusion. "This was taken the day before they were due to sail to the New World on the Titanic. And for some unknown reason they cancelled the trip and survived."
As Clyde showed him more pictures of the same serious girl, dressed in the same leather jacket and dark jeans, Chris's apprehension and confusion became more pronounced. This girl had more secrets then she had let on, and a large legacy to uphold; no wonder she had seemed so alone. It seemed her family went as far back as the beginning of history. And yet, in every one of those pictures, the same haunted brown eyes and broken spirit was evident in her gaze.
Clutching the latest picture, Clyde looked at him in earnest. "The Doctor is a legend woven throughout history. When disaster comes, she's there. She brings the storm in her wake, and her one constant companion."
Something about those words chilled Chris to the bone. "Who's that?" He asked, almost afraid of the answer.
"Death."
Instead of horror, disbelief rose up in him. The image of a smiling, laughing Doctor walking beside him rose in his mind, and he wondered just how so carefree a creature could cause so much destruction. And yet, looking at all the photos of these identical women, he knew that there was more to her than he ever imagined. Swallowing heavily, he wondered if he had gone too far, dove too deep into the Doctor's life.
Clyde, apparently, was too intent on his message to worry about Chris's inner turmoil. "If the Doctor's back, if you've seen her, Chris, then one thing's for certain. We're all in danger."
And he began to believe him. Just slightly, he began to feel like the Doctor was trouble, that she was something to be avoided. But she had still saved him in the basement, hadn't she? She had still risked her life to destroy the creatures that would kill countless more if allowed to go free. She had saved him from that plastic hand. And she had allowed him the smallest glimpse of who she was as she held his hand. She couldn't be dangerous. Not when she was broken.
Chris opened his mouth to speak, to argue against this logic, but Clyde spoke as he gathered up his things. "If the Doctor's singled you out, if she's making house calls, then god help you." His face was shining with worry for him, for fear of the Doctor, and a desperation that Chris couldn't quite place. It was, he suddenly realized, desperation for answers, to simply understand this mysterious person and if they were truly a threat. Clyde seemed convinced that she was. Chris still wasn't sure. Clyde's findings and convictions had certainly struck a chord, however. Whoever the Doctor was, he would have to be careful in his research and in his dealings with her.
"Who is she?" He finally asked. "Who do you think she is?" The fact that he had been asking that a lot lately did not escape him.
Clyde considered seriously for a moment, grave. "I think she's the same girl," He said honestly, yet slowly, as if willing Chris to understand. "I think she's immortal. I think she's an alien from another world."
And Chris instantly felt disappointment flow through him. Of course, just when he was getting somewhere, it was all turned on its head by yet another alien freak. Sighing inwardly, he forced a bewildered expression. "This… this is a lot to take in. I… I think I need to go home, sort this out, think about all of this."
Clyde nodded. "Of course. Let me show you out."
After being guided through the house once more and a concerned 'be careful,' Chris was glad to hear the door close behind him as he crossed the street. Relieved to finally be away from the man's clutches, Chris opened the door and slid in. "You were right, he's a nutter," He grumbled to Mary. She seemed oddly stiff, but her smile reassured him. "What should we do? Pizza?"
"Pizza," Mary agreed happily.
Then again, Chris thought, he had been craving Chinese lately. He suggested this to Mary, but she repeated her decision, and drove off. Shrugging, he looked out the window, stiffening when Mary cut abruptly to the right.
"Watch where you're going!" He cried, grabbing the nearest object for stability. "Where do you think you are, America?"
Mary jerked the car to the left, flinging Chris into the window, before gaining control and driving off. Heart hammering, he stared at her, wondering just what had gotten into her. "You alright?" he finally asked, cautiously.
She didn't answer. She didn't speak during the entire car ride, actually, which made it decidedly awkward and very out of character- for Mary, at least. She would usually be rattling on about whatever friend did this and who broke up with whom to date whoever, and the silence worried him. He tried commenting on the state of the houses in this part of the neighborhood- posh, the lot of them- but even that failed to elicit a response. Deciding to give up, he leaned back into the seat and stared moodily out the window.
His thoughts drifted toward the Doctor, and the more he thought, the more Clyde's words began to sink in. He knew her as the harbinger of death. Chris knew her as suicidal, broken, and full of mysteries. He had barely known her for a day. That wasn't any time to really get to know someone, not as much as he believed he knew the Doctor, and all his interactions with her had seemed to be leading up to the fact that she was dangerous, riding on the wings of death and leaving chaos in her wake.
And yet, he couldn't get the haunted eyes, the broken smile, and the lonely spirit the Doctor had out of his mind.
In an effort to snap Mary out of whatever strange mood she seemed to have gotten in, and to stop the never-ending debate going on inside his head over the Doctor, Chris began talking about jobs after they had ordered. Mary's smile still persisted, never wavering, and was slightly intimidating. Though this unnerved him, he continued gamely, hoping that if the weirdness was ignored, it would go away.
"Think I should try the hospital?" he asked. "Suki said they had some spots open. Or, you know, dishing out chips at that diner on the corner. I could do A-levels." He thought about that for a second. "Maybe not. It's all Jaymee Stone's fault. I left school for her, and look where she ended up." Chris scowled at that. She had been the daughter of a middle-class salesman, who had ambitions to be an actress. She was decent at it, too, but her real talent existed in snorting drugs and getting drunk enough to forget she was in a relationship. After coming home to find yet another stranger in bed with her, Chris had called it quits, sworn off dating older women, and returned home to earn back the money Jaymee had stolen from him. He had found out three months later that she had been forced to flee the country due to debtors, and so far as he knew, was either in Paris or America stoned and sleeping her way across the country. Sighing, he shook his head, and forced a smile at Mary. "What do you think?" He asked, hoping she wouldn't suggest the computer shop.
Her response wasn't what he expected. "So, where did you meet this doctor?" She asked, her smile instantly dropping, and she leaned forward, a strange glint in her eye.
This alarmed Chris more than he let on. "I'm sorry. Wasn't I talking about me for a second?" Honestly, he didn't want to talk about the Doctor anymore, at least not until he finally sorted everything out. And Mary was giving off a strange vibe, one that screamed at him to run.
She didn't seem to hear him. "I reckon it all started back at the shop. Am I right? Was it something to do with that?"
Chris shifted nervously, playing with his napkin. Before, when he had suggested this trip, Mary had shown no interest in the Doctor, only to grumble about blowing up the building. It seemed the less she had to deal with the strange girl, the happier she was. Her sudden interest was strange, if not wrong. "No," he replied, feeling oddly defensive suddenly.
"Come on," Mary said, leaning back with a smirk- Chris's instincts grew louder.
But this was Mary, sweet, supportive, understanding Mary, his mind argued back. She was the one who helped you patch yourself together after Jaymee, who leant you money to get back on your feet, who dragged you out of your depression. Your best friend since childhood!
If he couldn't trust his oldest friend, who could he trust?
Chris swallowed, and then replied. "Sort of," He admitted.
"What was she doing there?" Her voice had become lower, more threatening, that demented smile back on her face. Chris knew that if Mary was jealous, she would have been throwing a tantrum right about now. This was more hostile.
He didn't want to talk about this, not now! Chris shook his head, frowning at her. "I'm not going on about it," he said. "I know it sounds daft, but… I don't think she's safe. She's dangerous."
There. That should appease her, and he could move on to safer, more controllable topics. Even saying that small amount was like pulling a wailing, struggling, kicking and screaming three year old away from the play area.
"But you can trust me, sweetheart," She said, sweetly, then inexplicably added, in various tones of voice, "babe, honey, sugar, babe, sweetheart," as if she barely knew she was doing it. Chris stared. Mary never, never ever ever called him pet names, claiming they were daft and for old couples, like their parents. He was about to question it when she went on, oblivious to her slip up. "Tell me what the Doctor's planning so I can help you, Chris. Cause that's all I want to do, sweetheart, babe sugar babe babe sweetheart."
If the first strange mention of the pet name was weird, this was insane. Chris, utterly flabbergasted, looked at her in concern. "What are you doing that for?" He asked.
Mary was staring at him intently, not blinking, the smile gone. Chris met her gaze with a concerned frown, ignoring the waitress who came up to them and offered them a glass of champagne. The fact that a low-key pizza place even offered champagne escaped him, as Mary's odd behavior was more pressing.
"We didn't order champagne," Mary said, not breaking eye contact. She leaned in, grabbing Chris's hand. "Where's the Doctor?" She insisted, her voice dark, her eyes threatening.
The waitress, apparently giving up on Mary, came to him. "Sir, your champagne!"
"It's not ours," Chris said, distracted. "Mary, what's wrong?" She hadn't shown such interest in the Doctor, not until they had left Clyde's house. What was with her?
"I need to find out how much she knows so where is she?" Her voice was definitely threatening, and Chris recoiled the slightest bit.
"Doesn't anybody want the champagne?" The waitress asked, exasperated.
Mary rolled her eyes. "We didn't order any-" she paused, then smiled evilly. "Ah. Gotcha."
Startled, Chris looked over his shoulder to see the Doctor with a smirk on her face. "Don't mind me," She said cheerfully. "I'm just toasting the happy couple." She had been shaking the glass, and added, cheekily, "On the house!" before popping the lid.
The cork shot off, hitting Mary square in the forehead. Chris stared in utter horror as Mary's face seemed to absorb it, before she spat it out of her mouth. Standing up ominously, she smiled evilly again. "Anyway," She said, and her hand flattened out to a paddle.
Someone screamed, and Chris jerked out of his frozen state. Jumping out of his chair and stumbling as he knocked it over, Chris ran to the nearest cover and stared in horrified fascination as Mary smashed through the table, heading for him. The Doctor, who had ran around the table, tackled Mary from behind and caught her in a headlock. Then as if she couldn't have made matters worse, gave a swift tug and pulled Mary's head off.
Chris felt like he was going to faint right there, especially when the head spoke. "Don't think that's going to stop me," It taunted, and the Doctor gave a delighted grin.
The couple nearest the severed head screamed, and Chris realized that Mary had somehow become one of the shop windows dummies from the store. He may not be the Doctor, but he could help save the others. Whirling, he hit the nearby fire alarm, yelling as loud as he could. "Everybody out! Get out, now!"
As the consumers scrambled for the front door, Chris ran the opposite direction, hoping that the living plastic that had replaced Mary would follow him. The Doctor was right behind him, the head tucked under her arm, as the headless creature smashed its way through the tables towards them. Chris took the chase through the kitchens, warning the workers as he went, before darting through the back of the building and exiting into the alley. Slamming the heavy, steel door behind her, the Doctor pulled out the silver tube and pointed it at the door. Chris ran on ahead, looking for a way out. Ignoring the blue police box perched innocently in the corner- what in the world was that doing there, anyway?- he went to the gate and tried to force it open, lock and all.
"Open the gate!" he called as the Doctor strode nonchalantly toward him. "Use the silver tube thingy!"
"Sonic screwdriver," the Doctor corrected, pocketing it.
"Well then, use it!"
"Nah," She said, giving him a disarming smile. "Tell you what, let's go in here!" she fished a key out of her pocket, using it to open the door to the blue box. She stepped inside as Chris ran over.
"Climb inside a wooden box?" He asked in disbelief. Was she bloody insane?
The living plastic was still banging on the door, causing it to buckle alarmingly. Chris gave it a long look, slightly bouncing from foot to foot, torn of indecision. There was the gate, another ally that led to who knew where, and the box. There was no way he trusted his life on a flimsy wood barrier when even the steel couldn't keep the plastic for long, so he decided to try his chances with the gate. It once more decided not to cooperate, but he did get it further open. Hope surged through him- surely, together, they could break through it.
He ran to the box to tell her so, flinging open the door and dragging it closed behind him. Soon as he turned to face the Doctor, however, the sight made him freeze.
Chris resembled a goldfish, his mouth opening and closing rapidly. How… how was it possible? It was a small box. A small, blue box, and a rather flimsy looking one at that. It couldn't be bigger. Just couldn't. He was hallucinating, surely, and ran out the door. If he stepped outside and got a better look, he would see a giant ship, not a harmless blue box…
But no. Even a second look proved that the blue box was a blue box, and not only that, it was bigger on the inside. Chris stared, chest heaving, trying to wrap his mind around it. Only when the plastic managed to smash a hole through the door did he finally snap out of his mini panic attack and run through the doors again.
"It's going to follow us," He said, desperately, stumbling up the ramp to the center of the room, where the Doctor was calmly walking around a central pillar. She was holding the head in one hand and the silver tube- sonic screwdriver- in the other, as if looking for something. "The assembled horde of Gangis Khan couldn't get through that door, and believe me, they've tried," she replied, not even looking at him. "Now, shut up a minute."
Chris shut up, still staring in wordless wonder at the interior. In a strange way, the inside was beautiful- coral struts arched up to support the ceiling, circling the central platform. The walls were covered in hexagons, some lit up, others not, with wires hanging down from the ceiling to connect to the central pillar. A greenish- blue light was emitting from the central pillar and the base, which the Doctor was currently leaning over. She had connected the head to several wires, and as he approached her hesitantly, she began to explain what she was doing.
"See, the arm is too simple. But the head's perfect." She was still facing away from him, and if Chris had spared the time from wondering at his surroundings, he would have noticed that it seemed intended, as if she was afraid of his reaction. His silence must have given her a clue, however, for she turned, stuffing her hands into her pockets and bouncing nervously on her feet. "Right. Where do you want to start?"
"Um…" He honestly had no clue what to say. "The… inside is bigger than the outside?"
"Yes." Her voice definitely had a nervous edge.
"It's alien."
"Yup."
Chris stared at her, seeing her nervous stance, her pursed lips, and the wary look in her eyes. Suddenly, it all clicked. Her strange behavior, how she had known about the plastic, how she had acted like she was superior to other humans (or, quite possibly, just him), how she had been able to look exactly the same for hundreds of years, how her reaction to Mary's plastic body didn't cause fear, only excitement, and even Clyde's insistence on her identity. "Are you alien?" He breathed, unsure of whether or not he wanted the question answered.
"Yes." There was a short, awkward pause, but Chris hadn't missed the slight pride in her voice when she had responded. Then, the Doctor seemed to resort back to her nervous state, even more apparent than before, still bouncing on her feet. "That alright?" she asked, hesitantly.
Chris was surprised to find out that he wasn't in the least bit surprised- it was as if he had known all along. "Yeah," He replied automatically, hoping she would trust him.
The Doctor instantly relaxed, a faint smile appearing on her features. "It's called the TARDIS, this thing. T-A-R-D-I-S. That's Time And Relative Dimension In Space."
That was the final blow that sunk in. An alien that looked human, he could deal with. A plastic creature that looked like Mary- that, too, was bearable to a point. But knowing that the box that was bigger on the inside was an actual space ship, looking otherworldy and named as if it was any other regular ship, broke him. Wide-eyed, he slowly sank to the floor, gripping the nearest handrail.
"That's ok," The Doctor said kindly. "Culture shock; happens to the best of us."
"Did they kill her?" He asked absently. "Did they kill Mary?"
"Oh." The Doctor's smile faltered and she looked genuinely confused. "I didn't think of that."
Chris's brain suddenly caught up and he froze, staring at her in open-mouthed horror. Then the fury overcame him and he lurched to his feet, stumbling ever so slightly. "She's my girlfriend," he growled. "They copied her and you pulled off her head and you didn't even think!" His hands were clenching and unclenching as his waist, his body trembling ever so slightly. Clyde was right. Death did follow this girl. "And now, you're just gonna let her melt!"
"Melt?!" The Doctor asked, jumping slightly, and whirled to face the center column. Her eyes widened as she saw the head melting, deflating and sinking into the strange glowing surface. "Nonononononono!" She cried, running over, sounding utterly distressed.
Chris's fury boiled higher. "What are you doing?!" He cried. She should be concerned about Mary, darn it all, not some stupid plastic head that tried to kill them! Mary had been a living, breathing, sweet, supportive human being, and because of the Doctor, she had died! And there she was, flicking random switches and pressing buttons in an effort to save that…that thing!
The Doctor dashed around the console as she tried to explain. "Finding the signal; it's fading!" The central column began to move, and a mechanical grating sound, exactly like the one he heard the last time he had seen the Doctor, sounded from deep inside the ….what was it? TARDIS?
She muttered something, looking at a computer screen, before calling out in distress once more. Dashing about the console, she flicked more buttons before getting a secure hold. "Almost there!" She called out to Chris, staring at the moving column. There was a final grinding noise before a deep reverberation, one that Chris felt vibrate through him, into his very soul.
The Doctor immediately dashed out when everything stilled. Horrified, he went to follow after her. "It's not safe out there!" He cried, knowing that the plastic creature was probably racing toward them as they spoke. Crazy suicidal alien, he thought darkly before running after her, only to stop in complete wonder and shock as he realized that the scenery was vastly different.
Somehow, inexplicably, they had moved. They weren't in the back ally of the pizza shop. They were by the Thames, the sounds of the city surrounding them. Utterly mystified, Chris followed after the Doctor in a daze, wondering how this could possibly be real.
The Doctor was pacing away, talking angrily. "I lost the signal. I was so close!"
"We've moved," He said dazedly, incapable of pointing out anything other than the obvious. A sudden thought occurred. "Does it fly?" Regarding it, Chris noticed that it had no wings, but then again, it was a magical alien space ship. The wings could be invisible, for all he knew, or folded into the sides.
The Doctor gave him a bitter look. "It disappears there then reappears here. You wouldn't understand."
He did, though, in a way. It was like a teleport on Star Trek- you would step onto a platform then appear on the planet below. The blue box was the teleport pad, and it transported you to a different part of the city. Like your own personal jet, only much faster and much more…well, alien. He was relieved, at least, that they had escaped the headless thing, but if they were here, what happened to the headless thing?
He had, apparently, spoken that aloud, for the Doctor paced away again, sounding angry in her response. "It melted with the head. Are you going to witter on all night?"
It had melted? Chris ignored the Doctor's angry paces and under-the-breath mutterings, and even her biting remark. Mary was dead now, truly gone. "I'll have to tell her mother," he realized. He was reasonably certain that he could contact her, through various channels and several long-distance calls. He would rack up quite a bill, too, but that wasn't what mattered.
That stopped the Doctor, at least, for she stared at him blankly. Annoyed that she didn't get that basic concept of informing family of a loved one's passing, he growled, "Mary. I'll have to tell her mother that she died. And you just went and forgot her, again!" The Doctor only rolled her eyes at this, looking thoroughly annoyed. Chris threw up his hands, finally done. "Look, you're right, you are alien." And, he added viciously to himself as he turned, a heartless, soulless husk that only did things for her own benefit.
"Look," The Doctor growled, sounding thoroughly angry at this point, "If I forget one kid named Mary-"
"She's not a kid!" He cried out.
"-then it's because I'm trying to save the lives of every stupid ape blundering about on this planet. Alright?"
"Alright?" He asked, his anger and annoyance ignoring the pain in her words.
"YES! It is!" She shot back, fists clenched, eyes blazing. Her voice had cracked slightly towards the end, and for the briefest moment, he saw the dark, unending pain in her eyes again. She was also shaking slightly, too, and that was enough to slightly clear the storm blazing about in his mind.
"If you are an alien," he said, stalking towards her, "How come you sound like you're from the north?"
The question surprised him as much as her, and she turned toward him in a defensive, if surprised, way. "Lots of planets have a north!" She insisted, almost childishly, as if she was blaming the whole incident on her brother when it was, in reality, her own fault.
Chris realized that his anger had almost dissipated by this point, merely because he had somehow realized that it truly wasn't her fault. It was his own, for letting Mary drive him to Clyde's house, for telling her about the Doctor- after all, she had warned him against it. If anyone was to blame, it was him, for he had caused her to be caught up in this.
Wanting to end the hostilities further, he tried to think of what else to say. The blue box out of the corner of his eye gave him an idea. "What's a police public call box?" He asked, because just like everything else, it didn't make sense. He expected space ships to be more… spacey. Not blue.
The Doctor blinked, and then gave a wide, happy grin. "It's a telephone box, from the nineteen fifties. It's a disguise."
Chris tried to hide the grin, but as soon as she started petting it and making cooing noises, he couldn't help the small laugh that came out. Seemed like ship captains everywhere, no matter their race, species, or background, were married to their ships. The Doctor probably spoke to it, too, knowing her, and didn't think twice about it either.
"Right," he laughed, as The Doctor seemed to hug the box. Time for something slightly less obsessive. "What about this living plastic? What does it have against us?"
The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "Nothing. It loves you," She said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the universe. "You got such a lovely planet. Full of smoke and oil and plenty of toxins and dioxins in the air; perfect." She walked over and leaned against the box, staring at him intently. "It's just what the Nestene Conciousness needs."
Chris suddenly remembered the conversation they had as he was chasing her through the Estates. It had seemed… unreal, when she first said that it wanted to take over the human race. Now, he realized that it was the complete and utter truth.
The Doctor went on to explain. "Its food stock was destroyed in the war; all its protein planets rotted. So, Earth equals dinner." She gave a sarcastic smile and pretended to eat, somehow making it look slightly morbid in the process.
He nodded, as it made sense. How many people had been dislocated by war, searching for other places to rebuild and live? "Any way of stopping it?"
The Doctor seemed utterly pleased by this, and pulled out a glass tube of blue liquid from her jacket. "Anti-plastic," she said, grinning.
Chris gave a little smile in return. "Anti-plastic," he agreed, laughing because it was so obvious and ordinary.
"Anti-plastic," She repeated again, waving it under his nose. "But first, I have to find it. How can you hide something that big in a city this small?"
London? Small? Chris blinked at that, but what was hiding? He voiced this aloud, hoping that she wouldn't give him that stupid-idiot look. Instead, she raised her eyebrows. "The Transmitter," She replied. "The Consciousness is controlling every single piece of plastic so it needs a transmitter to boost the signal."
"What does it look like?" He asked. Surely, it wouldn't be that hard to find.
"Like a transmitter. Round and massive, somewhere slap bang in the middle of London." She paced away again, brow furrowed, eyes darting around. "A huge metal circular structure. Like a dish, or a wheel, radial, somewhere close to where we are standing. Must be completely invisible."
She had turned to explain this to him, and Chris simply stared in disbelief. Not at her words, of course, although that was noteworthy in itself. It was more of the fact that the London Eye was surrounding her upper body like a halo, obvious and, to his utter amusement, ironic. Figures that she would know anything and everything there was to know about the Nestene Conciousness, yet miss the most obvious thing about it. She didn't even seem to notice it, either, only looking around calmly in front of her. "What?" She finally asked, noticing his expression.
Not trusting himself to speak lest he laugh aloud, he only nodded at the Ferris Wheel. The Doctor turned, gave it a glance, and then turned back. "What?" She repeated, utterly oblivious.
Chris, more amused than ever, nodded at it again. Of course, the Doctor only gave it another glance and simply repeated the question. Chris rolled his eyes.
The Doctor turned for the third time, stared at it some more, then looked at him with a faintly embarrassed look. "Oh," She said, and he was intrigued to see that she had turned slightly pink. Another look, and she grinned at him. "Fantastic," She announced, and he couldn't agree more.
Still grinning, she turned and ran, Chris right on her heels. Halfway along the block they grabbed hands, and he suddenly had all the energy in the world. Her hand fit perfectly into his, calloused and gentle and cool, and he knew that he would happily follow her to the end of the world so long as he could still hold her hand.
They ran to the base of the giant structure, barely out of breath, adrenaline still coursing through his veins. "Think of it," The Doctor said, searching for something. "Plastic, all over the world, every artificial thing waiting to come alive- The shop window dummies, the phones wires, the cables. . ."
"Breast implants," He said slyly.
She snorted in amusement, and then turned all serious once more. "Still, we found the transmitter. The Consciousness must be somewhere underneath."
This part Chris knew. How many times had he been here as a kid, looking at the river, and wondering where the service tunnels led? His mother had always ignored him, instead exclaiming over the various boats found on the river. To him, it was a place of mystery; to his little-kid mind, it led to dangerous, dark, strange places, filled with all sorts of giant animals and spiders, where little boys could have all sorts of adventures and heroics and arrive home in time for tea. If the plastic alien could be found anywhere, it would be in the service tunnels.
The Doctor came running at his call, and shrugged. "Looks good to me," She said, and he couldn't help the swell of pride that rose up within him. They dashed down the steps together, and the Doctor turned the wheel to open. Instantly, a dense cloud of smoke escaped, and a red glow lit up her face.
Chris blinked. Looks like the tunnels really did look like his childhood fantasies.
The Doctor climbed in first, and Chris followed right behind, slightly worried but otherwise strangely excited. He barely noticed the heat, easily looking over the Doctor's shoulder as she opened the nearest door and revealed a walkway. There was a strange growling sound, and something like liquid sloshing; peering down over the railing, he saw a giant pool of what looked like lava, rippling and moving around.
"The Nestene Consciousness," The Doctor said, looking down at the red and gold liquid. Chris's breath hitched ever so slightly at the thought that the liquid was alive. "That's it, inside the vat, a living, plastic creature." Her face was lit up from the light the alien gave off, flickering in her dark brown eyes and off her angled features. She was studying it, her face smooth and showing no emotion, simply a detached air of study. She looked a strange sort of beautiful in that light, a graceful soldier who danced to her own rhythm of chaos on the battlefield.
Shaking himself, Chris turned to the matter at hand. "Then tip in your anti-plastic and let's go."
The Doctor shot him a dark look. "I'm not here to kill it. I've got to give it a chance." She immediately turned and stepped quickly away, leaving Chris no time to think about her words. He suddenly realized that this was it; this was what everything had been leading up to, a life or death chance, between the human race and the Nestene Conciousness. The Doctor may not want to kill the living plastic, but Chris would take matter into his own hands if the need arose. He knew she was only trying to do something good, to save everyone and everything, but Chris knew that there wasn't such a thing as happy endings. His father's death was proof of that. So was everything with Jaymee, his entire life and the expectations towards him, and Mary's death.
The Doctor found a vantage point on one of the landings of the catwalk. "I'm seeking an audience with the Nestene Consciousness under peaceful contract, according to convention fifteen of the Shadow Proclamation." She said, firmly.
The pit roiled, and a growling erupted from the liquid. Chris staggered slightly when he realized that it was the creature's reply, but he didn't dwell too long on that since he had an inkling that the reply wasn't all butterflies and rainbows. Still, the Doctor thanked it, so he figured it was ok.
While she was speaking, Chris crept carefully down the flight of stairs, watching the liquid. He didn't exactly know where the eyes were, but with any luck it would be completely focused on the Doctor and not on him. He wasn't entirely certain what he was going to do- probably just stare at it in a mixture of horror and fascination until they were done talking- but he would be in a good spot to do it. That all went to pot when he saw Mary cowering in a corner, utterly frightened but alive.
He instantly ran to her, ignoring the Doctor's exasperated expression. She still followed him, though, apparently either getting permission from the plastic, or to watch over him. Well, he certainly didn't need protecting, and Mary was what was more important right now.
"Mary, it's me," He soothed as he approached his terrified girlfriend. "It's alright. I've got you."
She began sobbing uncontrollably. "That thing…it…it talks," She gasped in between tears.
Even though he was relieved to see her, Chris took one whiff and curled his nose. "You smell terrible," he announced, ignoring the slight guffaw from the Doctor. He rounded on her instead. "They kept her alive," He said, shooting her a look that was suspiciously smug.
She shrugged. "That was always a possibility. Keep her alive to maintain a copy."
The smugness vanished, to be replaced by annoyance. "You knew all along and you never said?"
"Can we keep the domestics outside, thank you?" She replied, her annoyance matching his. She didn't wait for a reply, either, simply continued on downstairs to resume the negotiations with the plastic.
Well then, it seemed he would have to handle this one himself. Helping the still sobbing girl upright- great, her mascara was running all down his shirt, and it would be a dickens to clean- he led her to a more secure area away from the grating to calm Mary down.
In all honesty, Chris was thankful beyond relief that Mary was alive, but it had vanished quickly now that she was safe in favor of what was happening between the Doctor and the liquid plastic alien. As Mary huddled on the floor, sniffing occasionally and clutching his pant leg, he watched as the Doctor once more approached the edge of the platform, her posture confident and controlled.
She proceeded to argue with it, kindly and politely, as the plastic replied in the strange growls that appeared to be its language. He really didn't care what they said- his attention was torn between watching the plastic move and Mary tugging on his pant leg, trying to get his attention- but nevertheless he admired the Doctor's bravery.
It was a good thing he was paying attention, for he noticed the plastic dummies advancing on the Doctor first. Still, even his warning was too late, as they quickly grabbed her arms and held her, quite firmly, in place as she struggled. He moved to interfere, but when the Doctor looked at him and gave a quick shake of her head, he paused, uncertain.
His heart plummeted when one rifled his pockets and pulled out the vial of anti-plastic. The Doctor seemed to worry too, for she cried out, "That was only insurance; I wasn't going to use it!" as the liquid roared a protest.
"I'm not attacking you, I'm here to help!" She pleaded. "I'm not your enemy, I swear I'm not!"
The creature roared again, and the Doctor blinked in confusion. "What do you mean?" She asked, before a previously unnoticed doorway slid open, revealing the TARDIS.
"No, no, honestly, no!" The Doctor cried in response to the liquid's roar. "Yes, that's my ship. "
The liquid roared again, and the Doctor stiffened. "That's not true, I was there!" She cried, and Chris's heart broke at the tone of her voice. It almost sounded as if she was fighting back tears. "I fought in the War, it wasn't my fault!" She waited for the reply, and then answered, in a broken voice, "I couldn't save your world; I couldn't save any of them!"
Chris had had enough. The shattered expression on her face was too awful to bear, and he knew that he would help her in any way he could. "What's it doing?" He cried.
"It's the TARDIS," the Doctor replied, still struggling. "The Nestene identified it as superior technology. It's terrified! It's going into the final phase!"
His blood turned cold. "What?"
"It's starting the invasion! Get out Chris, just leg it! Now!"
He didn't think, simply reacted. His mind had gone completely numb at the Doctor's words, and it was as if he was experiencing everything else out-of-body. His phone was out of his hand and ringing before he realized what had happened, and his mother was answering before he could blink.
"Mum?" He cried, hoping against hope that she was at home.
"Oh there you are!" She replied, chipper as ever. "I was just going to phone. You can get compensation, they said so. I got this document thing off the police. Don't thank me!"
Oh, of all the…! He didn't care about his stupid job now! "Where are you?" He demanded.
Jackie sounded a little defensive. "I'm in town!"
Horror filled him. Oh god, why couldn't his mother just be lazy and stay at home for once in her life! "Go home!" He pleaded, even though he knew she wouldn't listen.
"Darling, you're breaking up! Listen, I'm just going to do a bit of late night shopping. I'll see you later. Ta!"
The line went dead. Chris stared at the phone, frozen in dread and horror, knowing that she was going to die.
Lightning arched up from the vat, crackling and writhing in fury. It reached the ceiling, showering sparks down on everything below. Chris flinched, stuffing his phone in the pocket.
"It's the activation signal!" the Doctor called out. "It's transmitting!"
Chris took a moment to glare at her. For the first time, he wished she didn't have to explain every stupid thing they came across. She didn't care if his mother was stuck in the mall with hundreds of living plastic shop dummies. She didn't care if he was worried and scared to death about his family and friends in London. But he did, and if it was the last thing he would do, he would save them.
"Get out!" the Doctor cried as the room shook.
"The stairs are gone!" He shouted back, desperately looking for a way to escape. He nearly sobbed in relief when he remembered the TARDIS. Dragging Mary behind him, he ran over to the ship, grabbing the handle and pushing with all his might. It didn't budge.
"I don't have the key!" He said, voice shaking, as Mary helped him. Tugging her down and sitting slightly in front to shield her, he looked back at the Doctor, who was still fighting the dummy holding him. She was trying to free her arms to get at the anti-plastic, but the dummy was too strong.
Her words chilled him. "We're going to die," She said, voice cracking, her eyes filled with despair.
Chris inhaled, snapping his eyes shut. Come on, Chris, he thought. Get yourself together. You can do this, you know you can. You say you're gonna help her, so do it!
His eyes opened, and though his heart was still beating a frightened, frenzied pulse, his mind had gotten rid of the scared haze that had descended upon it. Looking for something, anything he could use, his eyes alighted on the still struggling Doctor.
She seemed to search him out, too, eyes wide and terrified, as if wanting to see at least one friendly face before her life ended. Their eyes connected, and for the briefest second, it was as if their minds were, as well.
"Time Lord…"
The whisper of a suggestion and a quiet, chiming tune was there at the back of his mind, and somehow he knew that it named the Doctor. Her eyes, wide and desperate, held eternity in their midst, ageless and unending, yet so very, very young at heart. Something within Chris bloomed, a strength he didn't know he had, a yearning that had lain dormant for untold years. Peace settled in his heart, and gently, he unwrapped Mary's arms from his neck and stood, blue eyes never leaving the Doctor.
Mary had latched on to his leg. "Leave her!" She begged, and the Doctor continued to look at Chris. Something in her gaze had changed; a silent question to save her, to return the favor in the basement.
His mind went to the city above, the world above, the people, who were running confused and scared as to why the plastic was trying to kill them. He thought of his mother, alone since her husband died, soon to join him if she hadn't already. He thought of Clyde and his family, Mary's mother, and all his friends. He even thought of Jaymee, for even she didn't deserve a death that awaited her in the form of a murderous living plastic creature. And finally, he thought of the Doctor, the one who opened his eyes to new possibilities and a new way of thinking, who had allowed him to live more in a few hours than he had in all his twenty-one years of life. She had given him hope of a better life, hope of a grand future, and there was no power in the universe that would stop him from helping her.
The Doctor gave the tiniest of smiles, and he gave one back; then he turned, and ran toward the nearest chain.
"I've got no A-levels," he said in reply to Mary's horrified shriek as he grabbed an axe, "No job, no future, but I'll tell you what I have got." The axe swung, breaking a chain from the wall. "Churchill Junior School Pole Vault State Qualifier- I got the bronze."
He ran forward, and then gave a flying leap off the platform, aiming for the living plastic holding the vial. The Doctor wriggled, whirled, and threw her jailer into the vat, before racing over and grabbing him as he swung back. They tumbled to the floor in an awkward pile of limbs and bodies, his head somewhere by her shoulder and hers under his arm, but they rolled off with little fuss and grinned as they helped each other up. "Now we're in trouble," she said, and they both looked down at the vat of the roiling, shrieking Nestene Consciousness.
The anti-plastic had been absorbed, the vial broken, and the Doctor's hand found his as they raced up the steps to the TARDIS. The room about them began to shake, the ceiling crumpled, and the floor was unsteady, but their hands never left the others and the thrill of victory swept through them both.
Mary was clinging onto the TARDIS when they arrived, and the Doctor dropped Chris's hand to get to her key. She shoved Mary in before her, and the girl whimpered and curled into a ball almost automatically. Chris paused to look at the plastic creature with a smug grin before hurrying after the Doctor, racing to join her at the center of the room.
The Doctor flicked a few switches and pushed a few buttons, her grin still in place. Chris was laughing, couldn't stop, relief and adrenaline still racing through his system. A part of him knew he was bordering on hysteria, so when he found himself sitting on the floor with his arms wrapped around his legs as the Doctor laid a hand on his shoulder, he realized that death had been closer than he had realized.
"You ok?" She asked, concerned.
Chris nodded, taking a shaky breath before responding. "Yeah. Is it…?"
The Doctor nodded, and he felt relief flood him. Smiling slightly, he leaned against the pillar, staring at her. "I never did thank you for saving my life," he mumbled.
"I never did thank you for saving mine," She responded, and they fell into helpless laughter. She squeezed his shoulder then helped him up. As he ran a quick inventory to make sure everything was still in one piece, the Doctor said, "I'm dropping you off a block away from your flat, Chris. I'm sure you can find your way home from there."
The central column grinded to a halt, and Mary was instantly out the door. She was over by the wall and cowering behind a wooden platform leaning against the wall by the time Chris emerged, dialing his mother's cell number.
The phone rang twice before his mother answered. "Chris! Chris, don't go outside, it's not safe! There….there were these things, and they were shooting, and…!"
Chris chuckled, and then hung up. She was safe. That was all that mattered at the moment.
Seeing the Doctor still inside the TARDIS, playing with something in front of her, Chris checked on Mary. Her wide, terrified eyes met his, and he sighed before jogging over to her. "Fat lot of good you were," he teased, helping her up.
She flinched at his touch, pointing at the entrance to the TARDIS instead. Chris looked up, seeing the Doctor leaning against the doorframe, smirking. "Nestene Consciousness?" She asked, "Easy." She snapped her fingers to prove it.
He rolled his eyes. "You were useless in there. You'd be dead if it wasn't for me."
The smirk softened to a genuine smile. "Yes I would. Thank you, again." There was a pause, and then she seemed to shake off whatever was on her mind. "Right then! I'll… be off." Her eyes shifted away for a moment, nervous, and then met his again, shyly. "Unless, I don't know… you could come with me."
Chris didn't dare to breathe. Was she serious? His heart began to swell a little, hope rising tentatively.
"This box isn't a London operative, you know. It goes anywhere in the Universe, free of charge." She continued, her hands clasped in front of her, as if still hiding. Chris opened his mouth to reply- of course he would go, why would she even have to ask?- before a small voice interrupted his thoughts.
"Don't," Mary whispered. "She's an alien, she's…she's…she's a thing!"
The Doctor frowned. "She's not invited." Her tone was a little annoyed and a little hurt. Chris couldn't blame her, really, for even after saving Mary's life, the girl had pretty much insulted her. Swallowing heavily, Chris glanced between the two of them, heart torn.
"What do you think?" The Doctor asked. Chris opened his mouth, but no words came out. "You could live here, fill your life with work and food and sleep, or you could go…anywhere."
Chris's heart thudded at that last word. How long had he wanted to travel? How long had he been waiting for an opportunity to do something great, to change his life, to live? Vaguely, he remembered that the feeling he had since New Years had stopped, and he knew that this was it, this was the chance he had been waiting for. All he had to do was just…say…yes…
"Is it always this dangerous?" He finally managed, feeling Mary wrap her arms around his waist, pinning him to his spot. She felt heavier than normal, weighing him down, reminding him of his duties here. He had his mother to look after, and Mary to watch over, and all sorts of duties and responsibilities.
The Doctor nodded. "Yeah," She agreed, her smile faltering for the slightest moment.
Mary whimpered as his body tingled, remembering how alive he had felt facing the Nestene Consciousness. Glancing down at her and seeing her terrified face, he remembered how she had helped him in his hour of need. For the first time since he met her, not only did he see the sweet, charming girl he had grown up with, he also saw a chain, keeping him in the life he longed to escape, imprisoning him to his life. Regret filled him. He shouldn't be thinking of her like this, he should… he should… no matter. He had to protect her. Swallowing, he felt his heart breaking as he replied, "I can't. I've, um… I've got to go find my mum and… well, someone's got to look after Mary, so…."
The Doctor's smile faded, until even the blank expression had a bitter disappointment to it. Her eyes were shielded, and that, more than anything, made him realize how much he had hurt her. "Ok," She finally said, the word sounding forced.
Chris tried to reply, tried to find a way to apologize, but his heart was broken and his spirit shattered, and no words could come.
After an awkward pause, in which Chris tried to convey everything he was feeling by his expression alone, the Doctor finally offered an olive branch. "See you around?" She said, hesitantly.
He couldn't reply, because he knew that she was lying. Even so, her eyes didn't leave his as she closed the door. Seconds later, the light on top of the box lit up, the otherworldly sound filled his ears, and the TARDIS disappeared from his life forever.
Chris wanted to cry, but Mary was there, staring at the place the box had disappeared with horror. "Come on," He said, quietly, helping her up. "Let's go."
Mary stumbled up, limping slightly, and he helped her along the ally. He was numb, barely noticing when Mary tried to grab his hand. He didn't know why he was feeling like this- he had saved the Doctor's life, he had thanked her, he had protected her when she couldn't save herself- but somewhere, in the splinters where his heart had been, he knew. This had been the chance of his life, the opportunity to become someone greater than anyone thought he could be… and he had let it slip past because of the chains keeping him here. Bitterness stole over his being. All that wishing, and for nothing. His life really was useless.
Then, a miracle. The sound of the TARDIS erupted into life around him, warming him, and he gasped, whirling around and letting go of Mary. To his utter disbelief and shining joy, the police box was materializing, not a foot from where it had disappeared. The Doctor opened the door a second later, a smile on her face. "By the way," She said nonchalantly. "Did I mention it also travels in time?"
Chris would have to be blind, deaf and stupid to not take a second chance. A grin slowly formed on his face, and the Doctor stood to the side, the doorway to eternity left open for him to enter. Heart singing, he turned to Mary. "Thank you," He said sincerely.
"Thanks for what?" She asked, confused.
His smile grew wider. "Exactly," He said, then kissed her goodbye on the cheek.
Without hesitation, he ran toward the TARDIS. Mary would move on, he knew. Find someone better, someone smarter, and someone normal. Earth may be the place of his birth, but the stars would be his home. All of time and space was at his disposal, waiting for him to discover it. Adventure, chaos, fun, danger, everything he couldn't have here was a TARDIS ride away.
He ran through the door, and entered his future.