Doctor Who ficlet: The Man in the Parlour (2/2) | Charley, Eight | PG
Title: The Man in the Parlour, Part 2 of 2
Author: rustydog
Fandom and prompt: Doctor Who: Eight, Charley; clockwork for itsarift_thing
Characters: Charley, Eight
Rating/warnings: PG
Words: 832 (1773 for the whole story)
Beta: travels_in_time
Notes: For Day Nine of consci_fan_mo.
Part One
Nothing. There was nothing, as far as she could see. No dark night, no stars, no trees. No Hampshire... no Earth. Charley looked down and noticed that her clothes had changed. Her shoes were bigger, and her face was dry. She was grown; adult-sized, she imagined. She felt older.
She turned around, wondering if she should go back inside, but her house had disappeared, only more blankness where it had stood. Nothing - no, there was a small object there. She walked back and stooped to look: her father's broken pocket watch. As she picked it up, she thought she could hear ticking, but when she held the watch to her ear, the only sound was the broken piece inside clicking against the silver casing, sounding just like the clockwork man's chest.
That man... the Doctor.
Understanding flooded her mind, replacing disorientation. The change almost made her feel faint for a moment, but she recovered herself and looked around again. She knew what to search for now, they couldn't play tricks on her mind anymore.
Except she could still hear a ticking sound.
Well, it was better to walk than stand, and probably better to walk toward something than toward nothing, in no direction at all. She turned toward the single sound and called out, "Doctor? Doctor!" The space seemed vast, but her voice didn't echo, instead dropping as if it were muffled by cotton wool. "I'll find you," she said more quietly. She took a determined breath, gripped the broken watch tightly, and began to walk.
In this place there was nothing to look at but the pocket watch and her own hands, and after what might have been hours Charley could barely even see them anymore. Perhaps the whiteness was blinding her. Keeping her eyes open confused her, anyway, so she closed them to better concentrate on the ticking sound. Except... was it ticking? She wasn't so sure anymore. It was deeper, purer. It almost sounded like a bell.
She shook her head and kept walking.
*
"Charley? Charley, can you hear me?"
It was the Doctor's voice, warm, familiar, and with the thread of tension she could detect when he was upset and trying not to let her know. She felt his hands on her face, and they too were warm.
She opened her eyes, but all she could see for a moment was white, and a fear stabbed at her - maybe this Doctor was an illusion too. But finally her vision adjusted, and she could see his eyes, and they were as warm and alive as his voice.
"Ah, there you are!" The Doctor beamed. "Can you sit up? You wouldn't wake for the longest time."
She allowed him to help her up. "I think I was walking for days," she said. "Where were you, Doctor? Did you see anything strange? Did you hear anything?"
"Well, what's past is past, yes, and yes," the Doctor answered. "I've been walking too. I found you sleeping on the... I suppose this is the ground. What's in your hand, by the way? You wouldn't let go of it while you were unconscious."
"Oh," Charley looked down and realized she was still clutching the object in her fist. "It's a pocket watch, it was the strangest thing..." She opened her hand, but the watch was not there; instead, she was holding a small silver bell. She shook it, but with the opening of the bell still in her palm, the clapper merely rattled.
She started to take it by the handle, but before she could test it again, she heard another sound, farther away, pure and deep. "Doctor, that sound! That's what I was following, can you hear it too?"
The Doctor nodded. "The TARDIS cloister bell." He put a hand on her shoulder and pointed away. "Look, can you see that? In the distance. It's very small."
"Doctor, is it the TARDIS? We're almost there!"
"Fascinating. We shouldn't be hearing the bell out here. I don't know, we could be miles away, or - it's entirely possible we never left the TARDIS."
"So it might not be real," Charley said dully, thinking of Christmas.
"That's a possibility. We'll have to see. Are you ready?"
Charley stood up cautiously, but found she felt fine. "Wait, before we go-" She stepped up to him, stood on her toes, and pressed her ear to his chest, once: thump, thump, thump, and again: thump, thump, thump.
She sighed with relief. "All right."
The Doctor was looking at her with a thoughtful expression. "Worried that I'm run by cogs and gears?" he asked.
Charley stared back at him. "Yes! How did you know? What happened to you when we were separated?"
The Doctor sniffed and shrugged. "It's not important now. I'm me, you're you, and the TARDIS is calling us. Shall we go?"
Charley nodded firmly. "Ready! Hold my hand, Doctor?"
He reached out and took her hand in his, and they stepped out toward home.
Author: rustydog
Fandom and prompt: Doctor Who: Eight, Charley; clockwork for itsarift_thing
Characters: Charley, Eight
Rating/warnings: PG
Words: 832 (1773 for the whole story)
Beta: travels_in_time
Notes: For Day Nine of consci_fan_mo.
Part One
Nothing. There was nothing, as far as she could see. No dark night, no stars, no trees. No Hampshire... no Earth. Charley looked down and noticed that her clothes had changed. Her shoes were bigger, and her face was dry. She was grown; adult-sized, she imagined. She felt older.
She turned around, wondering if she should go back inside, but her house had disappeared, only more blankness where it had stood. Nothing - no, there was a small object there. She walked back and stooped to look: her father's broken pocket watch. As she picked it up, she thought she could hear ticking, but when she held the watch to her ear, the only sound was the broken piece inside clicking against the silver casing, sounding just like the clockwork man's chest.
That man... the Doctor.
Understanding flooded her mind, replacing disorientation. The change almost made her feel faint for a moment, but she recovered herself and looked around again. She knew what to search for now, they couldn't play tricks on her mind anymore.
Except she could still hear a ticking sound.
Well, it was better to walk than stand, and probably better to walk toward something than toward nothing, in no direction at all. She turned toward the single sound and called out, "Doctor? Doctor!" The space seemed vast, but her voice didn't echo, instead dropping as if it were muffled by cotton wool. "I'll find you," she said more quietly. She took a determined breath, gripped the broken watch tightly, and began to walk.
In this place there was nothing to look at but the pocket watch and her own hands, and after what might have been hours Charley could barely even see them anymore. Perhaps the whiteness was blinding her. Keeping her eyes open confused her, anyway, so she closed them to better concentrate on the ticking sound. Except... was it ticking? She wasn't so sure anymore. It was deeper, purer. It almost sounded like a bell.
She shook her head and kept walking.
*
"Charley? Charley, can you hear me?"
It was the Doctor's voice, warm, familiar, and with the thread of tension she could detect when he was upset and trying not to let her know. She felt his hands on her face, and they too were warm.
She opened her eyes, but all she could see for a moment was white, and a fear stabbed at her - maybe this Doctor was an illusion too. But finally her vision adjusted, and she could see his eyes, and they were as warm and alive as his voice.
"Ah, there you are!" The Doctor beamed. "Can you sit up? You wouldn't wake for the longest time."
She allowed him to help her up. "I think I was walking for days," she said. "Where were you, Doctor? Did you see anything strange? Did you hear anything?"
"Well, what's past is past, yes, and yes," the Doctor answered. "I've been walking too. I found you sleeping on the... I suppose this is the ground. What's in your hand, by the way? You wouldn't let go of it while you were unconscious."
"Oh," Charley looked down and realized she was still clutching the object in her fist. "It's a pocket watch, it was the strangest thing..." She opened her hand, but the watch was not there; instead, she was holding a small silver bell. She shook it, but with the opening of the bell still in her palm, the clapper merely rattled.
She started to take it by the handle, but before she could test it again, she heard another sound, farther away, pure and deep. "Doctor, that sound! That's what I was following, can you hear it too?"
The Doctor nodded. "The TARDIS cloister bell." He put a hand on her shoulder and pointed away. "Look, can you see that? In the distance. It's very small."
"Doctor, is it the TARDIS? We're almost there!"
"Fascinating. We shouldn't be hearing the bell out here. I don't know, we could be miles away, or - it's entirely possible we never left the TARDIS."
"So it might not be real," Charley said dully, thinking of Christmas.
"That's a possibility. We'll have to see. Are you ready?"
Charley stood up cautiously, but found she felt fine. "Wait, before we go-" She stepped up to him, stood on her toes, and pressed her ear to his chest, once: thump, thump, thump, and again: thump, thump, thump.
She sighed with relief. "All right."
The Doctor was looking at her with a thoughtful expression. "Worried that I'm run by cogs and gears?" he asked.
Charley stared back at him. "Yes! How did you know? What happened to you when we were separated?"
The Doctor sniffed and shrugged. "It's not important now. I'm me, you're you, and the TARDIS is calling us. Shall we go?"
Charley nodded firmly. "Ready! Hold my hand, Doctor?"
He reached out and took her hand in his, and they stepped out toward home.