Tales, Ch. 12
“What are you talking about?” Amy questioned as she peered closely at the Doctor’s key. “What’s that you’ve got there?”
“Strangest thing!” the Doctor replied as he jammed the key in the cell door where Rose Red was held captive. “I met a bird in the forest who gave me this key. It came in quite handy then, and later in seemingly every possible circumstance. I still haven’t figured out the particulars, but I think that bird has something to do with my being here...involved in all of this as I am.”
The Doctor spoke distractedly as he jiggled the door and pried it open, forgetting all else around him once he gained entrance to the dim interior. The blonde captive was shaking violently on the ground, not daring to look behind her.
“Rose,” the Doctor whispered softly. “It’s okay. I’m not the Huntsman. Rose, look at me, please.”
Rose shivered once more before turning her head tentatively to glance behind her. She stared hard into the Doctor’s eyes before deciding he meant her no harm.
The Doctor was so taken with looking upon her again that he almost reached out to kiss her, but resisted the overwhelming temptation by reminding himself of everything she'd been through recently.
“I’m here to save you,” the Doctor said gently as he bent down to her level. “Can you believe that, Rose? Can you let me take you away from here, where you’ll be safe? You can see your mum again.”
Rose let out a happy whimper as she turned more fully toward him. Relief and unbearable gratefulness emanated from her eyes. She allowed one of her hands to reach out, where the Doctor’s hovered in mid-air.
“I…I know you,” she whispered with dim confusion as her fingers traced lightly over his.
“You do?” the Doctor asked, hardly allowing himself to hope. “You remember me, Rose?”
“Not in real life,” Rose answered as her hand grasped more firmly over his and used the leverage to pull him closer to her. “Once upon a dream… A story I used to know. The Doctor and his magical box.”
“That’s me,” the Doctor said with a mad grin, even as he wondered what she meant.
She returned his grin and nodded. With that, he gained the sudden courage to touch her face, just the lightest stroke against her cheek with the back of his hand. It had been so long since he’d seen her smile. She was so beautiful.
“Rose,” he whispered tenderly before flushing and turning his attention back to the task at hand. “I’ve got to get you out of here before that monster shows up again.”
“He said he was going to cut out my heart!” Rose revealed as the Doctor helped her to her feet.
He clung to her then, and pulled her impossibly close in sudden intensity.
“Never,” he breathed dangerously.
Amy and Rory were standing at the periphery of the cell, keeping an eye out for any sign of danger.
“Is she okay?” Amy asked worriedly as the Doctor brought Rose over.
“Quite,” the Doctor answered before checking Rose’s response. “You are, aren’t you?”
Rose let a small smile form on her lips before nodding.
“I am now,” she answered.
“But it’s too late!” Owen’s voice warned from inside his cell. “The master is coming. Can’t you feel him?”
Rory shuddered as Owen came close to the bars and shook his head sadly.
“You’re all going to die,” the Huntsman's servant whimpered.
At that moment, a door burst open at the far end of the corridor, and the slow scrape of metal on stone echoed through the chamber.
“Rose Red!” the Huntsman’s voice sang. “What a big heart you have! I think it's time that we had a look.”
“Hand me the lamp!” the Doctor ordered as Amy dug dutifully in her bag.
She held the lamp out to his waiting hand, which rubbed vigorously over the surface to no avail.
“What?” the Doctor demanded impatiently. “Where’s Craig and Stormy? If ever I needed them in a pinch, this would be it!”
The sound of the Huntsman grew louder as he walked down the hall and rounded the corner to make himself apparent. He was dragging a long-handled axe on the floor menacingly.
“I’ve got guests!” the Huntsman said in gleeful surprise, his eyes as wide as they were mad. “How lovely!”
“We’ve got to run!” Amy cried as she pulled on the Doctor’s jacket.
“No,” he answered briskly. “We’ve got to fly.”
The Doctor tugged the string from the small pouch Mickey had given him, and liberally doused the sparkling contents over his companions.
“What in the world?” Rory began, but the Doctor cut him off.
“Happy thoughts, Rory!” the Doctor insisted. “Think happy thoughts!”
“How about you not calling me Rory!” Rory responded shortly. “I thought we’d covered that, my name is-“
“Not now!” the Doctor cried as the Huntsman began to close in on them.
The Doctor grabbed Rory firmly by the shoulders and looked him in the eyes.
“I need you to think of all the things that make you happy!” he begged. “Sleigh bells and snowballs and warm woolen mittens…the lot! Tell me what makes you happy! This has a purpose, I swear!”
“Um,” Rory said uncomfortably. “I like the way it smells after a rain, and my family cat, Tinkerbell.”
The Doctor observed Rory’s stationary pose and frowned.
“Not good enough. Be honest, Rory. What makes you really, really happy?” he probed.
“Amy’s smile,” Rory answered automatically, and was concurrently lifted into the air like a shot.
Rory gasped and smiled widely even as he looked guiltily at Amy, hoping that she felt the same way about him.
The Doctor turned to her, but she was way ahead of him.
“Holding Rory’s hand,” she offered, and flew up to meet her mate.
The Huntsman stared in amazement as the pair drifted up into the air, where the corridor stagnated into a flat ceiling.
“What in the…” he muttered in confusion.
“Rose,” the Doctor said, turning to her last. “What makes you happy?”
Rose blinked and turned toward him anxiously.
“I don’t know,” she mumbled. “It’s been nothing but darkness for the last few weeks. I’m not sure I remember. What makes you happy?”
“You,” he answered candidly. “I know you don’t know me, not really...not the way you should, outside of a dream or a story, but I know you. I look in your eyes and I see everything that I’ve missed, everything I’ve ever wanted. You don’t have to dwell in the darkness because you are the light, Rose. If only you’ll shine.”
Rose didn’t realize that they’d both floated up to the ceiling until the Doctor’s head knocked against the stone.
“Ouch!” he protested, before smiling joyously. “We did it! Rose, Rory, Gretel! We did it!”
“Yeah, but now what?” Rory cried back.
The Huntsman was advancing toward them with his axe drawn, only a few feet below their floating bodies.
"Off so soon?" the psychopathic ex-Doctor cried.
He was readying to strike when the Doctor pointed past him.
“Now we get out of hell!” the Doctor shouted as he took Rose’s hand and flew toward the door on the opposite side of the room.
Rory and Amy followed quickly after, gliding past the open door and flying smoothly behind the Doctor and Rose. They continued to make their way through the castle, up stairways and over expansive hallways until they reached the bounds of the fortress walls, far beyond the Huntsman's grasp.
“This way!” the Doctor cried as they broke out of the castle and found themselves flying over the Styx.
“This is amazing!” Rose exclaimed as she watched the black waters pass below at breakneck speed.
The Doctor whooped as he grabbed her other hand and sent them into a wild spin over the waves.
“This is definitely THE COOLEST thing I have EVER done!” he proclaimed. “The Doctor flying…without a TARDIS! I’d never imagined!”
Rose laughed happily as they flew, until she spotted the gate to the underworld up ahead.
“What is that?” she said nervously, feeling her body begin to gain back the gravity natural to it.
“Don’t worry,” the Doctor consoled her. “That’s our way out.”
He coasted to a landing and helped Rose down from the air, setting her gently down on slippered feet. She leaned into him for support and smiled gratefully as his fingers traced lightly over her arms.
“Way out?” a mocking voice interrupted from the shadows.
The Doctor turned suddenly and faced the Master once again.
“Another toll?” the Doctor asked angrily as Rory and Amy came to land behind him.
“Don’t you just wish?” the Master replied. “I’d had a rather different bargain in mind. It’s always easier to get in than out. I suppose I’m addicted to hospitality.”
“Hospitality?” Rory scoffed. “You can't keep us locked in here! Just who do you think you are?”
The Master smiled maliciously as he bit his tongue in glee. "Three guesses," he announced. "And if you're wrong, I get to keep the redhead. I like her, she's got...spirit!"
"I don't need to guess," the Doctor answered bitterly. "Only one person could control the gates to hell. I should've guessed earlier. You're the Father of Lies: Lucifer."
"At your service," the Master nodded. "But I go by another, less formal name these days. Call me Rumplestiltskin."
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