Fic: Borrowed Time (7/11)
Title: Borrowed Time (Part 7 of 11)
Author: lemon_pencil
Rating: G
Characters/Pairings: Ten, Donna, various others
Disclaimer: Rusty is fail, so I'm taking over. But they're not mine, I'm afraid.
Warnings/Spoilers: Series 4; Planet of the Dead.
Word Count: About 1,500
Summary: Donna wants to go on one last adventure before it's too late...
Author's Notes: I now schedule my life around posting this fic. Should I be worried? :P
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6
After walking through the fields for about an hour, the building was at last reached. Perhaps it would have more sensible to land the TARDIS closer to their destination, but it had been good to have some time to talk. They both felt better for their discussion, and Donna didn’t consider it time wasted - although as she looked at her watch and noted that it was nearly ten o’clock in the morning, she couldn’t help remembering that half of her time was gone already. It was too fast. She’d promised forever - how could reality have fallen so far short?
The building was vast and seemingly deserted. It had the appearance of a very large barn but there was a tower at the far end, rising from the corrugated iron roof, which looked completely out of place. The Doctor remarked upon its suitability for an evil lair where the mysterious owner of the company resided - he’d borrowed Donna’s phone to look up The Biofuel Corporation earlier, and had found out that the head of the company kept his identity hidden (“How original,” commented Donna). They approached the doorway this end cautiously, but on seeing that there was no watchful figure to impede their entrance, they walked in at ease. The room they had come into clearly did not run the entire length of the construction. The Doctor assumed that the other rooms must have entries via another doorway, because there appeared to be no way into any further areas from this one.
Disappointed at the lack of apparent evidence to help them with their investigation, the Doctor half-heartedly took a look around to see if there was anything remotely significant to be found. Four plain, grey walls enclosed a space that roughly spanned the length of about four buses. Various equipment was strewn about the place, but nothing unusual - a wheelbarrow, a few rakes and garden hoes, some hosepipes and a number of bags of compost were all that was to be seen.
“Nothing here,” he sighed. They stood there for a moment, as though something might materialise, and at last turned to go. Then -
“Doctor!”
“What?”
Donna hesitated. Surely she’d imagined it? But for a second she’d been certain she’d caught a slight movement out of the corner of her eye. Perhaps it was some small creature, she thought. But no, there it was again, and this time she saw what it was. And wasn’t happy about it.
“Doctor, that hosepipe just moved!” she exclaimed, a little frightened.
“What?” he repeated, but it wasn’t a question now, it was one of those astonished vociferations he often made when confronted with something that surprised him, or that he didn’t understand. Not that he’d ever admit to not understanding anything.
But there was little time for him to ponder the significance of this strange claim for in that instant, two hosepipes close to them - including the one that had startled Donna - unexpectedly sprung to life and began to rapidly snake towards them as though they were those very reptiles, choosing a victim each. Before either of them had chance to react, the green coils had wrapped around their ankles and started to spiral their way upwards, binding their legs together and their arms to their torsos. All of this happened very quickly, and any attempt they did make to escape incarceration in the time it took for it to occur was thwarted by the strength and speed of the rubber vines. Once fully confined in the loops of the hosepipes, they found themselves being lifted into the air as they struggled and panted.
“Oh my God!” yelled Donna, wriggling to no avail. “Doctor, what do we do?”
“I don’t know!” he cried. “Let me think! Oh, what to do! Come on, think! Stupid head!”
“That’s not helping!” she shouted. She gasped. “It’s tightening! Doctor, I’m going to be squeezed to death by a hosepipe!”
The Doctor noted with dismay that she was right; the coils were swiftly tautening around their squirming bodies, restricting their breathing. It was quite difficult to concentrate on thinking of a way out in this condition, and he desperately tried to prod his mind into action before it was too late.
Whilst he was racking his brains, he observed that Donna had suddenly gone limp and the Doctor realised with a sense of panic that she had fainted from lack of oxygen.
“Think! Think!” he said aloud. It didn’t matter that he could survive indefinitely without air thanks to his respiratory bypass system - if he couldn’t get them out soon, Donna would surely die. Besides, if the binds continues to tighten, his internal organs would probably be crushed, which didn’t seem a particularly appealing prospect.
“Okay. Focus,” he told his brain, fixing his attention on the matter at hand. “Can’t get to the sonic, so that’s out. No knife, no matches, no tools at all. So, how to stop the process? What’s controlling the hosepipes?” he asked himself. “An outside influence? Or do they have a primary consciousness in themselves? If it’s the former, things don’t look good. If the latter…” He thought hard. “I can possibly interfere with the consciousness with telepathy! Worth a try!”
He concentrated intently. Feeling his way with his mind, he felt his subconscious brush against the fuzziness of a very simple living mind of sorts, and he understood that the animated tubes had been given an extremely basic intelligence that was not under the command of a more powerful authority. In this case, his plan had a chance of working. He embraced the consciousness and pushed against it with his thoughts, attempting to overpower it. He felt it become slightly subdued, and was encouraged when his ties slackened somewhat. Exerting as much power as he possibly could, he mentally drove the opposing force into submission, until with one last burst of effort it finally gave way.
The hosepipe fell to the floor in a heap, depositing the Doctor on the ground with a smack. He raced over to Donna, who had also been freed and now lay unconscious on the floor.
She wasn’t breathing.
Frantically, he covered her mouth with his and began urgently to try and resuscitate her. It didn’t seem to be working, and he was just starting to progress from a state of alarm to one of hysteria when she gasped, opened her eyes and looked straight at him. He was so happy to see that she was alive that he forgot that his lips were still attached to hers until she wriggled free furiously.
“What are you doing?” she said, confused and indignant.
“Oh, sorry!” he replied, sarcastically. “Just saving your life, I do apologise!”
Donna blinked, and sat up. “Oh!” she said. A puzzled expression spread over her face, which then turned sheepish. “Sorry, I’m a bit… Thank you,” she mumbled.
“That’s okay,” he answered. “Oh, come here!”
She threw her arms around him and squeezed him tightly enough for him to protest that he’d already been nearly suffocated once. Donna grinned, embarrassed, and then looked around and frowned.
“How did you get us out?” she inquired, interested.
He beamed. “Telepathy.”
“You communicated telepathically with a hosepipe?”
“Yep.”
She burst into laughter, and he soon followed suit. It was most likely fuelled by a sort of nervous relief at having escaped death so narrowly, but the whole situation suddenly seemed very funny. When they finally managed to compose themselves, the Doctor helped her to stand up. He noticed she looked a little pale.
“Are you alright?” he checked, concerned.
She nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine… just feel a bit nauseous, that’s all.”
“Should wear off soon,” he assured her. “After-effect of unconsciousness. Question is, what’s being hidden here? Someone’s keen to have nobody snooping around, as we just found out. But why? And what’s the point of all this messing with people’s minds? And what’s the next stage?”
He was still lost in thought as they walked out of the building, anxious to avoid being attacked by any other garden equipment. A noise inside the room made them stop and look round. The Doctor’s eyes widened as the outline of a door appeared on the opposing wall, highlighted in green light.
“Stay there!” he ordered Donna, pushing her out of view before running back into the room and diving behind a heap of compost bags. He peered at the wall through a gap in the bags. The section of wall contained by the lines slid aside with a low rumble, and out stepped a man wearing a white coat and surgical mask, and carrying a clipboard. He looked around the room, surprise etched on his face, before picking up a section of the would-be killer hosepipe with a frown. Shaking his head, he left the room and the door sealed behind him as if it had never been there.
The Doctor returned to Donna outside, and told her what had happened. “Somebody checking to see if we were dead - obviously an alert is triggered when the security system is activated. But it’s okay, I think he must have thought there’d been a mistake.”
“Let’s hope so, or next thing we know we’ll be chased by murderous pitchforks,” remarked Donna.
He smiled. “Time to find out what’s going on here, I think."
Next part
Author: lemon_pencil
Rating: G
Characters/Pairings: Ten, Donna, various others
Disclaimer: Rusty is fail, so I'm taking over. But they're not mine, I'm afraid.
Warnings/Spoilers: Series 4; Planet of the Dead.
Word Count: About 1,500
Summary: Donna wants to go on one last adventure before it's too late...
Author's Notes: I now schedule my life around posting this fic. Should I be worried? :P
Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6
After walking through the fields for about an hour, the building was at last reached. Perhaps it would have more sensible to land the TARDIS closer to their destination, but it had been good to have some time to talk. They both felt better for their discussion, and Donna didn’t consider it time wasted - although as she looked at her watch and noted that it was nearly ten o’clock in the morning, she couldn’t help remembering that half of her time was gone already. It was too fast. She’d promised forever - how could reality have fallen so far short?
The building was vast and seemingly deserted. It had the appearance of a very large barn but there was a tower at the far end, rising from the corrugated iron roof, which looked completely out of place. The Doctor remarked upon its suitability for an evil lair where the mysterious owner of the company resided - he’d borrowed Donna’s phone to look up The Biofuel Corporation earlier, and had found out that the head of the company kept his identity hidden (“How original,” commented Donna). They approached the doorway this end cautiously, but on seeing that there was no watchful figure to impede their entrance, they walked in at ease. The room they had come into clearly did not run the entire length of the construction. The Doctor assumed that the other rooms must have entries via another doorway, because there appeared to be no way into any further areas from this one.
Disappointed at the lack of apparent evidence to help them with their investigation, the Doctor half-heartedly took a look around to see if there was anything remotely significant to be found. Four plain, grey walls enclosed a space that roughly spanned the length of about four buses. Various equipment was strewn about the place, but nothing unusual - a wheelbarrow, a few rakes and garden hoes, some hosepipes and a number of bags of compost were all that was to be seen.
“Nothing here,” he sighed. They stood there for a moment, as though something might materialise, and at last turned to go. Then -
“Doctor!”
“What?”
Donna hesitated. Surely she’d imagined it? But for a second she’d been certain she’d caught a slight movement out of the corner of her eye. Perhaps it was some small creature, she thought. But no, there it was again, and this time she saw what it was. And wasn’t happy about it.
“Doctor, that hosepipe just moved!” she exclaimed, a little frightened.
“What?” he repeated, but it wasn’t a question now, it was one of those astonished vociferations he often made when confronted with something that surprised him, or that he didn’t understand. Not that he’d ever admit to not understanding anything.
But there was little time for him to ponder the significance of this strange claim for in that instant, two hosepipes close to them - including the one that had startled Donna - unexpectedly sprung to life and began to rapidly snake towards them as though they were those very reptiles, choosing a victim each. Before either of them had chance to react, the green coils had wrapped around their ankles and started to spiral their way upwards, binding their legs together and their arms to their torsos. All of this happened very quickly, and any attempt they did make to escape incarceration in the time it took for it to occur was thwarted by the strength and speed of the rubber vines. Once fully confined in the loops of the hosepipes, they found themselves being lifted into the air as they struggled and panted.
“Oh my God!” yelled Donna, wriggling to no avail. “Doctor, what do we do?”
“I don’t know!” he cried. “Let me think! Oh, what to do! Come on, think! Stupid head!”
“That’s not helping!” she shouted. She gasped. “It’s tightening! Doctor, I’m going to be squeezed to death by a hosepipe!”
The Doctor noted with dismay that she was right; the coils were swiftly tautening around their squirming bodies, restricting their breathing. It was quite difficult to concentrate on thinking of a way out in this condition, and he desperately tried to prod his mind into action before it was too late.
Whilst he was racking his brains, he observed that Donna had suddenly gone limp and the Doctor realised with a sense of panic that she had fainted from lack of oxygen.
“Think! Think!” he said aloud. It didn’t matter that he could survive indefinitely without air thanks to his respiratory bypass system - if he couldn’t get them out soon, Donna would surely die. Besides, if the binds continues to tighten, his internal organs would probably be crushed, which didn’t seem a particularly appealing prospect.
“Okay. Focus,” he told his brain, fixing his attention on the matter at hand. “Can’t get to the sonic, so that’s out. No knife, no matches, no tools at all. So, how to stop the process? What’s controlling the hosepipes?” he asked himself. “An outside influence? Or do they have a primary consciousness in themselves? If it’s the former, things don’t look good. If the latter…” He thought hard. “I can possibly interfere with the consciousness with telepathy! Worth a try!”
He concentrated intently. Feeling his way with his mind, he felt his subconscious brush against the fuzziness of a very simple living mind of sorts, and he understood that the animated tubes had been given an extremely basic intelligence that was not under the command of a more powerful authority. In this case, his plan had a chance of working. He embraced the consciousness and pushed against it with his thoughts, attempting to overpower it. He felt it become slightly subdued, and was encouraged when his ties slackened somewhat. Exerting as much power as he possibly could, he mentally drove the opposing force into submission, until with one last burst of effort it finally gave way.
The hosepipe fell to the floor in a heap, depositing the Doctor on the ground with a smack. He raced over to Donna, who had also been freed and now lay unconscious on the floor.
She wasn’t breathing.
Frantically, he covered her mouth with his and began urgently to try and resuscitate her. It didn’t seem to be working, and he was just starting to progress from a state of alarm to one of hysteria when she gasped, opened her eyes and looked straight at him. He was so happy to see that she was alive that he forgot that his lips were still attached to hers until she wriggled free furiously.
“What are you doing?” she said, confused and indignant.
“Oh, sorry!” he replied, sarcastically. “Just saving your life, I do apologise!”
Donna blinked, and sat up. “Oh!” she said. A puzzled expression spread over her face, which then turned sheepish. “Sorry, I’m a bit… Thank you,” she mumbled.
“That’s okay,” he answered. “Oh, come here!”
She threw her arms around him and squeezed him tightly enough for him to protest that he’d already been nearly suffocated once. Donna grinned, embarrassed, and then looked around and frowned.
“How did you get us out?” she inquired, interested.
He beamed. “Telepathy.”
“You communicated telepathically with a hosepipe?”
“Yep.”
She burst into laughter, and he soon followed suit. It was most likely fuelled by a sort of nervous relief at having escaped death so narrowly, but the whole situation suddenly seemed very funny. When they finally managed to compose themselves, the Doctor helped her to stand up. He noticed she looked a little pale.
“Are you alright?” he checked, concerned.
She nodded. “Yeah, I’m fine… just feel a bit nauseous, that’s all.”
“Should wear off soon,” he assured her. “After-effect of unconsciousness. Question is, what’s being hidden here? Someone’s keen to have nobody snooping around, as we just found out. But why? And what’s the point of all this messing with people’s minds? And what’s the next stage?”
He was still lost in thought as they walked out of the building, anxious to avoid being attacked by any other garden equipment. A noise inside the room made them stop and look round. The Doctor’s eyes widened as the outline of a door appeared on the opposing wall, highlighted in green light.
“Stay there!” he ordered Donna, pushing her out of view before running back into the room and diving behind a heap of compost bags. He peered at the wall through a gap in the bags. The section of wall contained by the lines slid aside with a low rumble, and out stepped a man wearing a white coat and surgical mask, and carrying a clipboard. He looked around the room, surprise etched on his face, before picking up a section of the would-be killer hosepipe with a frown. Shaking his head, he left the room and the door sealed behind him as if it had never been there.
The Doctor returned to Donna outside, and told her what had happened. “Somebody checking to see if we were dead - obviously an alert is triggered when the security system is activated. But it’s okay, I think he must have thought there’d been a mistake.”
“Let’s hope so, or next thing we know we’ll be chased by murderous pitchforks,” remarked Donna.
He smiled. “Time to find out what’s going on here, I think."
Next part