One Day - Part 1
Episode 1 of Black Days, One Day. It features the return of Susan Foreman (I don't look into the Expanded Universe much, so apologies if there are any inconsistencies.
The TARDIS burst out of the time vortex, with a huge nebula in its wake. Inside, the lone occupant was the Doctor. Immensely depressed. Those best friends he had known for centuries, Rory Williams and Amelia Pond, were, to the Doctor, gone forever. He could no longer see them and, in his eyes, they would be better off dead rather than have to live through lifelong poverty and warfare. In his mind, the image of Amy being touched by that Weeping Angel played and over and over and over on an eternal cycle and he could not rid his brain of that apocalyptic moment. It was metamorphosing him to become insane. To finally, after so long, put it to the rearmost expanse of his mind, he would need to seek professional help. Alas, in his discernment, nothing could abolish that moment from his mind.
As he keyed in coordinates for Neptem 5 - Fifth Moon of Decurionus Alpha, a rehabilitation planet, the TARDIS console sparked. "No! Not now! Not now! Any time but now," he exclaimed, dismissing his thoughts. He ran over to the area which had sparked, reached out to it, and the affected component exploded. "No... That's not good," he said, in a worried tone. As thick smoke raised out of the place where the component should have been, he heard the sound of the Cloister Bell echoing around him from every direction. "That's really not good," he said, even more worriedly. Suddenly, the TARDIS shook violently, and parts fell down from the ceiling and landed on the console, setting off a chain reaction. "Ah." He said languidly. "I'll have to do an emergency materialisation," he thought. This was often a last resort, and usually had terrible results. "Only one way to find out," he said, bracing himself for the worst. He closed his eyes tight and hit an illuminated blue button on the console.
All became silent. He opened his left eye. He exhaled in relief, but that relief was short-lived at the TARDIS shook violently again and the sound of the Cloister Bell became drastically louder. He jumped over to a lever on the console, and some Gallifreyan text faded in onto the scanner. This was the Fault Locator. He hadn't used it in a while, as the TARDIS was faulty enough as it was. "As expected," he said to himself. The word 'ERROR' flashed on the screen for ten or so seconds and a klaxon was heard. With both the Cloister Bell and the klaxon playing at top volume at the same time, the Doctor nonchalantly put his fingers in his ears.
After doing this for approximately a minute, he took his tweed jacket off. He anticipated bad things, but heartened himself with the fact that it probably wouldn't be much better standing around doing insignificant things whilst fires are blazing around him. He breathed in and cracked his neck. He slowly walked back. He had a moment of thought, but dismissed any ideas he had, bounded forward, and leapt above the blistering crimson flames. Landing densely on the console, knocking a few components into the flames below, he gave a subtly guilty face. Quivering and stumbling, he clutched his arms round the central time rotor, in aid of climbing to the other side.
Upon doing so, he jumped off and landed on the staircase beside the console, almost collapsing in the process. He turned around, content that he had survived. He smiled, albeit slightly. What he wasn't so content about, however, was the fact that he had left his tweed to be inundated by flames. Realising this, his smile disappeared. The TARDIS jolted and the Doctor started feeling lightheaded and dizzy; it had just hazardously breached an atmosphere without materialising through it. He started stumbing. Things started heating up; the flames had spread. Due to the the dizziness, the Doctor passed out and slammed painfully to the glass floor, the fire circulating around him.
***
The Doctor's left eye opened briskly. He was lying on the TARDIS floor, bloodied with the fire raging on, albeit less than earlier. He wasn't fully conscious; he was still addled and disorientated. He had hurt his right arm and leg, gaining a limp. He had cuts and bruises. From what he had observed, he had fallen off the glass floor of the console area onto the floor below. Standing up, his arm was searing with excruciating pain and his left leg was aching. He limped over to the TARDIS doors in an attempt to get out, stumbling in the process. He searched everywhere in his outfit for his key and sonic screwdriver, but to no avail; he had left them in his jacket. He sluggishly hobbled up the stairs and to the console, avoiding the flames and going over to his burnt tweed. As he bent over to reach for it, his back was also agonising and his face made him look as if he was in agony also.
He gently picked it up, and put out the excess flames. Reaching into the blackened and burnt pockets, he found his screwdriver, which was now non-functional, charred and in two pieces. He found the keys, which were now scalding due to the fire and put them carefully in his trouser pockets. He threw the now-useless jacket on the floor, and shoved the sonic screwdriver into its repair socket on the console, where he had first acquired it. It would take 24 hours to repair, unfortunately. He slowly walked back to the door. He put the keys inside the lock, and turned it with a sharp click.
***
Upon opening it, however, he overpassed his surroundings and noticed his crimson bow tie, which was on fire. Speedily ripping it off his collar, he violently hurled it to the grass beneath him and austerely stamped on it in a failed attempt to extinguish the flames. Alas, this happened to no avail.
"Sir, what are you doing?", a gruff male voice spoke strongly. Suddenly, the Doctor awkwardly raised his head to the man.
"Oh, hello," the Doctor smiled languishly, "Just... putting out a fire. Hope it didn't... offend you in any way, which... it probably did judgi--"
"Sir, just shut up and get out of my garden!", he replied obstraperously. He was a tall man of about thirty with short brown hair and stubble, though a moustache was slightly accentuated.
"Oh. Yes. About that; is there any chance you can help move this large blue box out of the garden? Don't want to trouble and offend you in the space of a minute."
The man looked over the shed of a box in complete shock and awe. Its royal blue colour was mesmerising to him. The Doctor could see its reflection on his emerald eyes which were agleam, as he was in a trance and his mouth was slightly open.
"Sorry; have I offended you again?", the Doctor said. "I really don't try to do this. Just need to know wh--"
"Shut up."
"Why? What is it? What's with the box that makes you stare like that? Well, pretty obvious, really. Big blue box breaches the atmosphere. Crashes down onto your... luscious lawn. It's going to be a bit conspicuous. But what I want to know; why are you staring like that? Is it covered with some invisible spacey-wacey goo which makes people stare?" He reached for his pocket, but remembered that he hadn't got his tweed or sonic screwdriver. "Actually, forget that. I've got to do it the old-fashioned way. So, who are y--"
"I said, 'shut up'."
The Doctor didn't quite know how to respond. "Can I at least take the box...?"
"Get out of the garden."
"Well, I can't leave witho--" Suddenly, the man took a pistol out of his jacket.
"I'll give you 'till ten. The box is mine now."
"Awfully nice person, you..."
"Five." He didn't flinch whilst saying this.
"I think you're being serious now."
"One."
"No! That wasn't f--", he shouted in desperation. Then there was an ear-splitting bang, and the world twisted, flashed, twirled and went black.
DOCTOR WHO
ONE DAY
Part One
One eye at a time, the Doctor woke with chapped lips. Everything was hazy. He was lying on a sofa with a teatowel around his arm.
"I told you to get out of the garden," the man said nonchalantly, eating a bowl of porridge on a leather chair which had one leg shorter than the rest.
"And I thought you were bluffing," the Doctor said, pointing to the man, amazingly nearly fully recovered - his body heals quicker and to a Time Lord, the wound was barely anything.
"Then don't 'think' in future, use natural logic," he said, shoving a spoonful of his porridge into his mouth.
"Logic merely enables one to be wrong with authority," the Doctor replied, eyes pointing upwards, propping himself up onto his elbows.
"Who told you that?"
"Myself."
"Proof that you shouldn't trust yourself."
"I don't. I stay as far away from myself as possible."
"You obviously didn't back then."
"Touche," the Doctor said. "What do you want with the police box?"
The man got up from his chair and strutted over to the Doctor, jacket tails gently fluttering. In the room, there was a ceiling fan and a big pair of French doors into the garden. There was a huge TV, and a dining table at the far back in the shadows. The sofa was adjacent to the TV, and in front of a radiator, which was emitting a refreshing warmth throughout the room.
"Come with me," the man said. "We'll walk and talk."
The Doctor sprung up off the sofa. "You just shot me. And you want to talk," The Doctor said with a quizzical look and a long silence. "Where are we going?"
"You'll see."
***
They stepped silently out of the house. It was a somewhat modern-style home of three storeys, and cream paint on the outside. There were three windows; one on the ground floor and two on the first floor. They walked briskly down the pathway, out of the black, decaying gate and onto the sear, cracked pavement below.
"I take it this is Earth," the Doctor said, rather worried he would seem incompetent.
"You'd be right."
"Year...?"
"2234."
"Ah," the Doctor said with an idiosyncratic sense of instability.
"What?"
"...Nothing. Just... just wasn't planning on visiting this time period anytime soon. Looks a lot like 'modern day'. But I suppose there's no such thing as 'modern day'."
"So that box is a time machine."
"How would you know?"
"Lady who lives nearby - I know her well - she says she had a granddad who had a time-travelling police box and that she's an alien. We all think she made it up. Probably did. Dream, maybe."
The Doctor's face turned solemn with angst, regret and realisation. He stopped still in his tracks, the man walking slightly ahead of him. He slowly and unrealisingly reached to clutch his right lapel gently, until he realised he was only wearing a shirt. Instead, he ended up clutching his suspender.
"What is it, sir?"
He was silent.
"Sir?"
He was still silent for ten seconds, until he sighed then his expression diverged into one of pure resentment. He marched towards the man with a finger pointed.
"You. The man who shot me and nursed me back into health in half an hour. I don't even know your name. Why did you shoot me?" His lip curled.
"S-s-sir... you'r--"
"No."
"There's no need to get so agitated by nothing."
"Nothing? Nothing?! You don't understand. I need to get out of here." The Doctor grinded his teeth in fury.
"You're right. I don't unders--"
"Whatever it takes. I'm telling you. No one must to see us."
Both men were nearly silent. The Doctor was breathing through his teeth.
"...Follow me," the man said, with a sense of pure assurance.
***
After a power walk of about five minutes, they came to a stop at a collosal hedge in the middle of nowhere. It was browning slightly; the Doctor could tell it was early Autumn.
"In you go," the man said, pointing to a small burrow. "We'll have another talk."
The Doctor stepped inside first, and to his stupefaction, he abruptly fell down a hole in the sodden soil and down a cold metal slide. The man could hear in an echo from the distance below him; "I... wasn't expecting that." Then the man followed him through the burrow.
They ended up in a wide square room with a low roof, not unlike a war bunker. There was a table surrounded by chairs in the middle of the room with an assortment of objects discarded across it. Paper; ink; maps; an unlit oil lamp; rope; even a (however unusable) grenade. There was a cracked whiteboard on the wall on the left-hand side of the room (if one was in front of the entrance) with rubbed-off formulae and a dazzling lightbulb swinging gently in the centre of the room, just above the table. They sat down adjacent to each other on the chairs. The lightbulb oft flickered; probably just faulty wiring.
"You know, we haven't been properly introduced," the man said, smiling politely. "I'm William Campbell. Former police officer." The Doctor slid back in fear. Instead of stating the obvious, he said the first thing that popped into his mind:
"Hence the gun," the Doctor said, gesturing to William's belt with a sharp tilt of his head. "I'm the Doctor."
There was a deadly silence.
"What?" The Doctor wondered, his eyes narrow.
"I... I knew it. Blue box from the sky, man called 'the Doctor'... it's too good to be true. This must be a hoax." William laughed nervously.
"Why? What must be a hoax? Listen to me, there's no hoax. Just the facts."
"It's exactly what... she... said."
"You said you believe her."
"Because she's... she's..."
"A family member!" The Doctor said, getting increasingly flustered. "Grandmother?"
"Yes, she is." He gulped. "But that... that... you're my great-great-grandfather and you look no older than me...?" He looked extremely concerned.
"I'm a Time Lord. From Gallifrey. Your grandmother is..." The Doctor gulped sharply and closed his eyes tight. "...a Time Lady."
William had a face of pure shock.
The Doctor stated: "Don't worry; I'm shocked, too. The Time Lords are all connected. After they were... destroyed... I had no sense of any. I thought Susan was... dead." He paused, stood up from the chair and began to pace around the bunker, hands behind his back. "I promised her I'd return. But no matter how much I needed to, I couldn't. I put it off for too long. Eventually, as the Time Lords died out, I thought she might be living here, but there was no sign..." He turned around to face William. "That's what I've been thinking all along. You say you know where she lives?" The Doctor pointed at him.
William nodded.
"Then I'm going to have to face my ultimate fear." The man who toppled a million races said solemnly. To think that he had a fear was shocking.
***
The two men of kin strolled across the field. The cumbersome breeze was an anchor, yet they still sailed on. "What was that bunker for, anyway?" The Doctor enquired.
"Over the past twenty or so years, we've often had earthquakes round these parts. Nobody can pinpoint why, but people have suspected it has a connection to the... dark war."
"The dark war?"
"The... invasion years. The time when my grandmother first appeared in London." He said, and the Doctor nodded in understanding. "Anyway, they used to be much worse ten or so years ago. So bad we had to hide in bunkers. We had to make a vacuum around them, damn it!"
The Doctor gave a solemn look. "I feel the same; cut off from the rest of the world where nobody can get to me, and I can't get to them."
"We're here now. This is the day you have been waiting for, for so long."
"Over a thousand years."
Normally, William would have been in stupefaction in times like then, but now he thought anything was possible. And rightly so.
"This is the day I've stalled for a thousand years," the Doctor said once more as he climbed up the dry concrete steps to press the doorbell. Despite being more than one-hundred years into the future from the present day, not much had changed, surprisingly; a lot of the revolutions in technology had been stalled due to the Dalek invasion.
As he felt the vibrations of someone walking down the stairs, the Doctor braced himself for the worst. He gulped. He felt his hearts pounding and his blood rushing as he heard the person turn the key in the lock and the door handle turn. As the door briskly opened and he felt the wind from it hit his messy hair, he nearly fainted. If he were ever to coward out of something, it would be now.
"Susan Foreman, this is your grandfather."
The Doctor gave a nervous yet slightly malevolent smile, the nervous side directed towards Susan, and the malevolent side directed towards William. "...Hello... Nice to see you again..."
Susan was in awe. "I, er, suppose you'd better come in..." As she let the Doctor walk in, she mouthed 'what are you talking about?' to William. He replied, again mouthing, 'I'll tell you when we get in'.
"Nice place you have here. Very modern," the Doctor complimented, picking up a small clock from the mantlepiece as the three relatives walked into the living room. "Well, as far as 'modern' goes in 2234." The house looked fairly 'present-day' in its decor.
"Er, excuse me, sir, but..." Susan tapped the Doctor on the back as he turned around.
"Yes?"
"Who are you?"
The Doctor sighed deeply. "I'm the Doctor. Your grandfather. You know me. I regenerated. Ten times," he told her.
"The Doctor left me."
"...To live a happy life. Yes, I did."
"He died."
"And how do you know I died?"
"The Time Lords. They all died. All of them. All of the telepathic signals we emitted were gone," Susan said solemnly as the Doctor sighed.
"That's right. I'm an anomalous result. I have walked in eternity, and I will continue to do so until I perish. Who says I'm a full Time Lord? I may be at heart and in my genetics, but I never abode by their rules. I never wanted to be one of the most corrupt races in the universe. Never, not once, did I not care for those in need. I wanted to get away from them. And I did. And it was the most dangerous, but best decision I ever made." He lowered his head, and in a croaky, hopeless voice, said: "Do you believe me now?"
"He's prone to moodswings from them, those memories!" William shouted from behind. "Trust me; I've experienced it first-hand."
Suddenly, the Doctor shook out of his muse and turned swiftly to David. "Says you!" He pointed. "You're the one who shot me."
Susan gave a confused look as William laughed nervously. He pulled the revolver out of his pocket. "Just doing my duty for King and country..." He admitted, looking at the Doctor. "You didn't exactly come across as the most normal of chaps..."
"And since when did they allow police officers to have guns? And as you're no longer a police officer, since when did they allow normal people to have guns? I may be a time traveller, but I've not visited this era much," the Doctor replied, looking over to Susan, hoping to garner her respect.
"Since the dark war, they legalised guns in case of... another invasion. Of course, I wasn't born then, but it's general knowledge."
"That doesn't constitute a shot."
"Look, I'm sorry. I panicked! I thought we were on the brink of another invasion!"
"I can only accept it."
"Well... you two look tired. Would you like a drink?" Susan enquired affectionately. "What do you want?"
"Err... I'll have tea. Nothing beats tea," smiled William.
"I'd like a Andromedan cocktail, made with the finest, richest, best-filtered, drinkable mercury you have," the Doctor replied with a wink and a smile. And Susan realised.
"Oh... I remember that day well. That was one of the first adventures we had together! You got tipsy off it!" All this time, and their paths had finally crossed again. Yet she had an inkling it was him all along in the back of her mind; the mannerisms may have been slightly different to the Doctor she once knew, but in the end, the face of a distressed man torn away from his people reigned upon him.
The Doctor gave another smile. "We meet again, Child."
"Oh, Grandfather. You're so young."
"I'm older than you can imagine. 1201. I've grown a lot."
"So old... yet you're standing here so tattered and... raggedy!"
The word 'raggedy' echoed in the Doctor's mind, circling through his memory like wind.
"Grandfather! What happened?" She exclaimed nervously. "You've gone blank!"
Her statement was true; the word 'raggedy' set him off.
"Sorry," the Doctor apologised solemnly. "Memories."
"Of who?" Susan asked anxiously.
"The Ponds. Amy and Rory" He sighed. "The people who have helped me in times of need and regret. I know I told you to have no regrets, no tears and no anxieties as my farewell, but that didn't mean I wasn't overwrought with them myself as I had to go out and face my own demons. I have had so many companions in my lifetime, and each and every one was as special and as important as the next and the previous. But I've had to say goodbye to all of them. And for Amy and Rory... that was the last straw."
"Oh... you're a troubled man. You saw our race go up in flames, and you've had emotional goodbyes." There was a long silence. "Well, you don't want people reminding you of Amy and Rory in those tattered clothes. I'll get you fed, watered and I know where to get you some clothes to wear."
"Thank you."
The Doctor was now resting on a brown, velvet, reclinable armchair. His left leg was raised on a pillow, and his left arm was on the chair. William was sitting on a velvet sofa. Susan walked in from the kitchen with a plate and a mug.
"I know it's not an Andromedan cocktail, but I'm sure it will do. You'll be back up in no time. I've got you a plate of biscuits, too." The Doctor carefully took them off Susan, and rested them on his chest.
"Ugh, digestives? They're plain. Do you have any jammie dodgers?"
"No, grandfather," she said with a smile. "But you could always get some from the shop."
"It's amazing how little the world has changed since the 21st century, which is around the era I visit most. You still have jammie dodgers. Your cars still have wheels. You still have TV, and I'm willing to bet you still have The X Factor."
"Yes," William interrupted.
"Just when I thought this planet couldn't sink any lower." After this, a photograph caught his eye and he abruptly changed the subject. "What happened to David?"
"My husband David? He's still around. He's often out, but I'll let you meet him soon." She smiled. "Finished your tea?", she asked. The Doctor nodded. "Good. Is your leg and arm any better?" Again, he nodded in confirmation. "That's good. Well, it's about time to get you properly clothed. I know just the place."
***
After a fifteen-minute or so walk, they ended up at a deteriorated-looking building of curious yet impressive architecture; the structure itself was of a tall, squarish shape but with an arched section on the top. This was only thin, however; the roof itself was flat. As the trio of affinity walked inside, the wooden doors opened with a creak. There was an extremely high ceiling on the inside, and the floor was bare; only the floorboards were present. The most intriguing thing about this place, however, was the fact that there were at least a hundred racks of clothing, shelves of food and more spread out through the single room.
"Grandfather, this is where we shop. It was originally used as a ration place - and hideout - during the invasion and has now become the place to shop," Susan informed the Doctor.
"Bit deteriorated," the Doctor examined.
"So are most other places," William said. "We couldn't keep up after the earthquakes started, so we decided to leave everything as it was. Our attempts at rebuilding were, well, futile." The Doctor nodded.
"I'll leave you to pick out what you want, grandfather," Susan said. Again, the Doctor nodded.
The Doctor tried on several sets of clothes, often dismissing them himself. His first attempt consisted of something similar to his his previous outfit; brown tweed, red bow tie. As he caught a laconic glimpse of himself in the mirror of the changing room, he sighed and thought to himself. 'No, that won't do', he thought, as he remembered Amy joking around about them. He took them off and threw them over the curtain.
One of his other attempts was one he merely disliked; a black overcoat and a stripy tie. 'Ugh. Too ordinary', he thought.
His last attempt was more desirable; he wore a light blue shirt underneath an unbuttoned black velvet smoking jacket. He had found a suitable, 'tasteful' (apparently) necktie, and that was in the form of a black, tattery cravat. This form of cravat was very much like that of his first incarnation's.
Having found the perfect outfit for himself, the Doctor stepped out of the changing room. He stopped to stand in front of another mirror; this one was taller than it was wide, and was propped up against a wall. He surveyed his new outfit in that mirror and gave a brief smile of confirmation. Suddenly, Susan approached him. As he spotted her in the mirror, he turned around to face her, and outstretched his arms.
"Well? What do you think?"
"It's... a bit... er... um...", stuttered William. His mouth opened a few times in an attempt to say something but instead replaced his original statement with one slightly less harsh. "What's with the necktie thing?"
"It's a cravat," replied the Doctor, resisting the urge to call it 'cool'.
"It's... er... eccentric..."
"I'm an eccentric man," the Doctor said, straightening his cravat.
"It reminds me of your old outfit," Susan said.
"Does it?", enquired the Doctor, turning around to the mirror. "I suppose it does." He smiled.
Suddenly, a crashing sound came from outside. "Did you hear that?", the Doctor asked, turning briskly around to face his family.
"I think we all did. Sounded like it came from outside!", informed Susan.
The family all looked at one another. They all ran outside.
"Ah. Right. That's not good," stated the Doctor; a building had partly collapsed. "Looks like it was caused by seismic activity." He turned around and pointed to his great-grandson. "William, you mentioned that you suffered earthquakes. It looks like it's been caused by one, but we didn't feel it." He turned back around and clasped his hands together, before raising both of his index fingers. "So, it seems it was non-natural. Building collapses from underground, but there was no shock? Bit suspicious if you ask me."
"Well, what could it have been caused by?", William enquired.
"Judging by the way it collapsed, it looks like some kind of underground activity," the Doctor replied. Again, he turned back around. "Do you know any underground operations?"
"No."
"Ah. Bit blunt. Do you know of any way we could get underground?"
"No."
"Right. We've got a bit of a problem, then."
"But I do know a group of people who might be able to help."
And with that, the Doctor was off.
After his kin had caught up with him, he enquired about where to go next. They had ended up at another deteriorated building (most of them were all like that). Paint was scraping off the side, bricks and windows were missing, and metal was rusted.
"You really haven't returned this place to normality much, have you?", the Doctor said.
"We haven't been able to afford anything. We spent a lot of money returning a lot of central London back. The off-the-beaten-path places aren't as important, apparently. We entered a second Great Depression," Susan answered.
As she said that, the three people stepped inside the building. It was just as deteriorated inside as it was outside. It resembled some form of centre with many different facilities.
"This," William said, "is where we go to pitch in ideas to help our town out. Every town around London has one, and it's a charity to help us rebuild and return our place to normal. During the invasion, much of our technology was lost, hence why we've returned to the state we had in the early 21st century."
"I see," the Doctor understood.
There were a few townsfolk inside. Some had cups of tea, others were eating biscuits, and they all looked friendly.
"People, I'd like to introduce you to the Doctor. He's going to help us all out," William said. "At least I hope he is."
"I'll try my best," the Doctor replied. He clasped his hands together briskly and turned to face his audience. "Right. Have you lot found anything underground yet? Discovered anything unusual?"
There was a deadly silence.
"I'll take that as a 'no'."
"Well, that's not entirely true," a woman admitted. Her name was Lydia McCarthy; she looked, and probably was, like an average townsperson who you would see walking down the road on any given day.
"Go on," the Doctor said, a slight smile forming.
"We've been recieving shortwave radio frequencies broadcasted from beneath the Thames. We believe they're part of an old base which was above ground before the river began to raise."
"Can I have a listen?"
"You already are. We have 24-hour monitoring over it, but most of the time it's just silence. Occasionally, we get a crackling, alarm-like sound and a drilling sound, but we have managed to get something very eerie once or twice around five years ago. It's not been caught since, but we've got it recorded."
She inserted a CD into a player. As soon as it began, the Doctor was horrified. A harsh grating voice began.
"You... m-m-m-musss...t dr...ill... f...urth...er. T-t-th...e b...loc...kade mu...st be pas...sed."
Instantly, the Doctor recognised it as the voice of his most persistent nemeses: the Daleks. Maybe not all of them were dead after all.
As he keyed in coordinates for Neptem 5 - Fifth Moon of Decurionus Alpha, a rehabilitation planet, the TARDIS console sparked. "No! Not now! Not now! Any time but now," he exclaimed, dismissing his thoughts. He ran over to the area which had sparked, reached out to it, and the affected component exploded. "No... That's not good," he said, in a worried tone. As thick smoke raised out of the place where the component should have been, he heard the sound of the Cloister Bell echoing around him from every direction. "That's really not good," he said, even more worriedly. Suddenly, the TARDIS shook violently, and parts fell down from the ceiling and landed on the console, setting off a chain reaction. "Ah." He said languidly. "I'll have to do an emergency materialisation," he thought. This was often a last resort, and usually had terrible results. "Only one way to find out," he said, bracing himself for the worst. He closed his eyes tight and hit an illuminated blue button on the console.
All became silent. He opened his left eye. He exhaled in relief, but that relief was short-lived at the TARDIS shook violently again and the sound of the Cloister Bell became drastically louder. He jumped over to a lever on the console, and some Gallifreyan text faded in onto the scanner. This was the Fault Locator. He hadn't used it in a while, as the TARDIS was faulty enough as it was. "As expected," he said to himself. The word 'ERROR' flashed on the screen for ten or so seconds and a klaxon was heard. With both the Cloister Bell and the klaxon playing at top volume at the same time, the Doctor nonchalantly put his fingers in his ears.
After doing this for approximately a minute, he took his tweed jacket off. He anticipated bad things, but heartened himself with the fact that it probably wouldn't be much better standing around doing insignificant things whilst fires are blazing around him. He breathed in and cracked his neck. He slowly walked back. He had a moment of thought, but dismissed any ideas he had, bounded forward, and leapt above the blistering crimson flames. Landing densely on the console, knocking a few components into the flames below, he gave a subtly guilty face. Quivering and stumbling, he clutched his arms round the central time rotor, in aid of climbing to the other side.
Upon doing so, he jumped off and landed on the staircase beside the console, almost collapsing in the process. He turned around, content that he had survived. He smiled, albeit slightly. What he wasn't so content about, however, was the fact that he had left his tweed to be inundated by flames. Realising this, his smile disappeared. The TARDIS jolted and the Doctor started feeling lightheaded and dizzy; it had just hazardously breached an atmosphere without materialising through it. He started stumbing. Things started heating up; the flames had spread. Due to the the dizziness, the Doctor passed out and slammed painfully to the glass floor, the fire circulating around him.
***
The Doctor's left eye opened briskly. He was lying on the TARDIS floor, bloodied with the fire raging on, albeit less than earlier. He wasn't fully conscious; he was still addled and disorientated. He had hurt his right arm and leg, gaining a limp. He had cuts and bruises. From what he had observed, he had fallen off the glass floor of the console area onto the floor below. Standing up, his arm was searing with excruciating pain and his left leg was aching. He limped over to the TARDIS doors in an attempt to get out, stumbling in the process. He searched everywhere in his outfit for his key and sonic screwdriver, but to no avail; he had left them in his jacket. He sluggishly hobbled up the stairs and to the console, avoiding the flames and going over to his burnt tweed. As he bent over to reach for it, his back was also agonising and his face made him look as if he was in agony also.
He gently picked it up, and put out the excess flames. Reaching into the blackened and burnt pockets, he found his screwdriver, which was now non-functional, charred and in two pieces. He found the keys, which were now scalding due to the fire and put them carefully in his trouser pockets. He threw the now-useless jacket on the floor, and shoved the sonic screwdriver into its repair socket on the console, where he had first acquired it. It would take 24 hours to repair, unfortunately. He slowly walked back to the door. He put the keys inside the lock, and turned it with a sharp click.
***
Upon opening it, however, he overpassed his surroundings and noticed his crimson bow tie, which was on fire. Speedily ripping it off his collar, he violently hurled it to the grass beneath him and austerely stamped on it in a failed attempt to extinguish the flames. Alas, this happened to no avail.
"Sir, what are you doing?", a gruff male voice spoke strongly. Suddenly, the Doctor awkwardly raised his head to the man.
"Oh, hello," the Doctor smiled languishly, "Just... putting out a fire. Hope it didn't... offend you in any way, which... it probably did judgi--"
"Sir, just shut up and get out of my garden!", he replied obstraperously. He was a tall man of about thirty with short brown hair and stubble, though a moustache was slightly accentuated.
"Oh. Yes. About that; is there any chance you can help move this large blue box out of the garden? Don't want to trouble and offend you in the space of a minute."
The man looked over the shed of a box in complete shock and awe. Its royal blue colour was mesmerising to him. The Doctor could see its reflection on his emerald eyes which were agleam, as he was in a trance and his mouth was slightly open.
"Sorry; have I offended you again?", the Doctor said. "I really don't try to do this. Just need to know wh--"
"Shut up."
"Why? What is it? What's with the box that makes you stare like that? Well, pretty obvious, really. Big blue box breaches the atmosphere. Crashes down onto your... luscious lawn. It's going to be a bit conspicuous. But what I want to know; why are you staring like that? Is it covered with some invisible spacey-wacey goo which makes people stare?" He reached for his pocket, but remembered that he hadn't got his tweed or sonic screwdriver. "Actually, forget that. I've got to do it the old-fashioned way. So, who are y--"
"I said, 'shut up'."
The Doctor didn't quite know how to respond. "Can I at least take the box...?"
"Get out of the garden."
"Well, I can't leave witho--" Suddenly, the man took a pistol out of his jacket.
"I'll give you 'till ten. The box is mine now."
"Awfully nice person, you..."
"Five." He didn't flinch whilst saying this.
"I think you're being serious now."
"One."
"No! That wasn't f--", he shouted in desperation. Then there was an ear-splitting bang, and the world twisted, flashed, twirled and went black.
DOCTOR WHO
ONE DAY
Part One
One eye at a time, the Doctor woke with chapped lips. Everything was hazy. He was lying on a sofa with a teatowel around his arm.
"I told you to get out of the garden," the man said nonchalantly, eating a bowl of porridge on a leather chair which had one leg shorter than the rest.
"And I thought you were bluffing," the Doctor said, pointing to the man, amazingly nearly fully recovered - his body heals quicker and to a Time Lord, the wound was barely anything.
"Then don't 'think' in future, use natural logic," he said, shoving a spoonful of his porridge into his mouth.
"Logic merely enables one to be wrong with authority," the Doctor replied, eyes pointing upwards, propping himself up onto his elbows.
"Who told you that?"
"Myself."
"Proof that you shouldn't trust yourself."
"I don't. I stay as far away from myself as possible."
"You obviously didn't back then."
"Touche," the Doctor said. "What do you want with the police box?"
The man got up from his chair and strutted over to the Doctor, jacket tails gently fluttering. In the room, there was a ceiling fan and a big pair of French doors into the garden. There was a huge TV, and a dining table at the far back in the shadows. The sofa was adjacent to the TV, and in front of a radiator, which was emitting a refreshing warmth throughout the room.
"Come with me," the man said. "We'll walk and talk."
The Doctor sprung up off the sofa. "You just shot me. And you want to talk," The Doctor said with a quizzical look and a long silence. "Where are we going?"
"You'll see."
***
They stepped silently out of the house. It was a somewhat modern-style home of three storeys, and cream paint on the outside. There were three windows; one on the ground floor and two on the first floor. They walked briskly down the pathway, out of the black, decaying gate and onto the sear, cracked pavement below.
"I take it this is Earth," the Doctor said, rather worried he would seem incompetent.
"You'd be right."
"Year...?"
"2234."
"Ah," the Doctor said with an idiosyncratic sense of instability.
"What?"
"...Nothing. Just... just wasn't planning on visiting this time period anytime soon. Looks a lot like 'modern day'. But I suppose there's no such thing as 'modern day'."
"So that box is a time machine."
"How would you know?"
"Lady who lives nearby - I know her well - she says she had a granddad who had a time-travelling police box and that she's an alien. We all think she made it up. Probably did. Dream, maybe."
The Doctor's face turned solemn with angst, regret and realisation. He stopped still in his tracks, the man walking slightly ahead of him. He slowly and unrealisingly reached to clutch his right lapel gently, until he realised he was only wearing a shirt. Instead, he ended up clutching his suspender.
"What is it, sir?"
He was silent.
"Sir?"
He was still silent for ten seconds, until he sighed then his expression diverged into one of pure resentment. He marched towards the man with a finger pointed.
"You. The man who shot me and nursed me back into health in half an hour. I don't even know your name. Why did you shoot me?" His lip curled.
"S-s-sir... you'r--"
"No."
"There's no need to get so agitated by nothing."
"Nothing? Nothing?! You don't understand. I need to get out of here." The Doctor grinded his teeth in fury.
"You're right. I don't unders--"
"Whatever it takes. I'm telling you. No one must to see us."
Both men were nearly silent. The Doctor was breathing through his teeth.
"...Follow me," the man said, with a sense of pure assurance.
***
After a power walk of about five minutes, they came to a stop at a collosal hedge in the middle of nowhere. It was browning slightly; the Doctor could tell it was early Autumn.
"In you go," the man said, pointing to a small burrow. "We'll have another talk."
The Doctor stepped inside first, and to his stupefaction, he abruptly fell down a hole in the sodden soil and down a cold metal slide. The man could hear in an echo from the distance below him; "I... wasn't expecting that." Then the man followed him through the burrow.
They ended up in a wide square room with a low roof, not unlike a war bunker. There was a table surrounded by chairs in the middle of the room with an assortment of objects discarded across it. Paper; ink; maps; an unlit oil lamp; rope; even a (however unusable) grenade. There was a cracked whiteboard on the wall on the left-hand side of the room (if one was in front of the entrance) with rubbed-off formulae and a dazzling lightbulb swinging gently in the centre of the room, just above the table. They sat down adjacent to each other on the chairs. The lightbulb oft flickered; probably just faulty wiring.
"You know, we haven't been properly introduced," the man said, smiling politely. "I'm William Campbell. Former police officer." The Doctor slid back in fear. Instead of stating the obvious, he said the first thing that popped into his mind:
"Hence the gun," the Doctor said, gesturing to William's belt with a sharp tilt of his head. "I'm the Doctor."
There was a deadly silence.
"What?" The Doctor wondered, his eyes narrow.
"I... I knew it. Blue box from the sky, man called 'the Doctor'... it's too good to be true. This must be a hoax." William laughed nervously.
"Why? What must be a hoax? Listen to me, there's no hoax. Just the facts."
"It's exactly what... she... said."
"You said you believe her."
"Because she's... she's..."
"A family member!" The Doctor said, getting increasingly flustered. "Grandmother?"
"Yes, she is." He gulped. "But that... that... you're my great-great-grandfather and you look no older than me...?" He looked extremely concerned.
"I'm a Time Lord. From Gallifrey. Your grandmother is..." The Doctor gulped sharply and closed his eyes tight. "...a Time Lady."
William had a face of pure shock.
The Doctor stated: "Don't worry; I'm shocked, too. The Time Lords are all connected. After they were... destroyed... I had no sense of any. I thought Susan was... dead." He paused, stood up from the chair and began to pace around the bunker, hands behind his back. "I promised her I'd return. But no matter how much I needed to, I couldn't. I put it off for too long. Eventually, as the Time Lords died out, I thought she might be living here, but there was no sign..." He turned around to face William. "That's what I've been thinking all along. You say you know where she lives?" The Doctor pointed at him.
William nodded.
"Then I'm going to have to face my ultimate fear." The man who toppled a million races said solemnly. To think that he had a fear was shocking.
***
The two men of kin strolled across the field. The cumbersome breeze was an anchor, yet they still sailed on. "What was that bunker for, anyway?" The Doctor enquired.
"Over the past twenty or so years, we've often had earthquakes round these parts. Nobody can pinpoint why, but people have suspected it has a connection to the... dark war."
"The dark war?"
"The... invasion years. The time when my grandmother first appeared in London." He said, and the Doctor nodded in understanding. "Anyway, they used to be much worse ten or so years ago. So bad we had to hide in bunkers. We had to make a vacuum around them, damn it!"
The Doctor gave a solemn look. "I feel the same; cut off from the rest of the world where nobody can get to me, and I can't get to them."
"We're here now. This is the day you have been waiting for, for so long."
"Over a thousand years."
Normally, William would have been in stupefaction in times like then, but now he thought anything was possible. And rightly so.
"This is the day I've stalled for a thousand years," the Doctor said once more as he climbed up the dry concrete steps to press the doorbell. Despite being more than one-hundred years into the future from the present day, not much had changed, surprisingly; a lot of the revolutions in technology had been stalled due to the Dalek invasion.
As he felt the vibrations of someone walking down the stairs, the Doctor braced himself for the worst. He gulped. He felt his hearts pounding and his blood rushing as he heard the person turn the key in the lock and the door handle turn. As the door briskly opened and he felt the wind from it hit his messy hair, he nearly fainted. If he were ever to coward out of something, it would be now.
"Susan Foreman, this is your grandfather."
The Doctor gave a nervous yet slightly malevolent smile, the nervous side directed towards Susan, and the malevolent side directed towards William. "...Hello... Nice to see you again..."
Susan was in awe. "I, er, suppose you'd better come in..." As she let the Doctor walk in, she mouthed 'what are you talking about?' to William. He replied, again mouthing, 'I'll tell you when we get in'.
"Nice place you have here. Very modern," the Doctor complimented, picking up a small clock from the mantlepiece as the three relatives walked into the living room. "Well, as far as 'modern' goes in 2234." The house looked fairly 'present-day' in its decor.
"Er, excuse me, sir, but..." Susan tapped the Doctor on the back as he turned around.
"Yes?"
"Who are you?"
The Doctor sighed deeply. "I'm the Doctor. Your grandfather. You know me. I regenerated. Ten times," he told her.
"The Doctor left me."
"...To live a happy life. Yes, I did."
"He died."
"And how do you know I died?"
"The Time Lords. They all died. All of them. All of the telepathic signals we emitted were gone," Susan said solemnly as the Doctor sighed.
"That's right. I'm an anomalous result. I have walked in eternity, and I will continue to do so until I perish. Who says I'm a full Time Lord? I may be at heart and in my genetics, but I never abode by their rules. I never wanted to be one of the most corrupt races in the universe. Never, not once, did I not care for those in need. I wanted to get away from them. And I did. And it was the most dangerous, but best decision I ever made." He lowered his head, and in a croaky, hopeless voice, said: "Do you believe me now?"
"He's prone to moodswings from them, those memories!" William shouted from behind. "Trust me; I've experienced it first-hand."
Suddenly, the Doctor shook out of his muse and turned swiftly to David. "Says you!" He pointed. "You're the one who shot me."
Susan gave a confused look as William laughed nervously. He pulled the revolver out of his pocket. "Just doing my duty for King and country..." He admitted, looking at the Doctor. "You didn't exactly come across as the most normal of chaps..."
"And since when did they allow police officers to have guns? And as you're no longer a police officer, since when did they allow normal people to have guns? I may be a time traveller, but I've not visited this era much," the Doctor replied, looking over to Susan, hoping to garner her respect.
"Since the dark war, they legalised guns in case of... another invasion. Of course, I wasn't born then, but it's general knowledge."
"That doesn't constitute a shot."
"Look, I'm sorry. I panicked! I thought we were on the brink of another invasion!"
"I can only accept it."
"Well... you two look tired. Would you like a drink?" Susan enquired affectionately. "What do you want?"
"Err... I'll have tea. Nothing beats tea," smiled William.
"I'd like a Andromedan cocktail, made with the finest, richest, best-filtered, drinkable mercury you have," the Doctor replied with a wink and a smile. And Susan realised.
"Oh... I remember that day well. That was one of the first adventures we had together! You got tipsy off it!" All this time, and their paths had finally crossed again. Yet she had an inkling it was him all along in the back of her mind; the mannerisms may have been slightly different to the Doctor she once knew, but in the end, the face of a distressed man torn away from his people reigned upon him.
The Doctor gave another smile. "We meet again, Child."
"Oh, Grandfather. You're so young."
"I'm older than you can imagine. 1201. I've grown a lot."
"So old... yet you're standing here so tattered and... raggedy!"
The word 'raggedy' echoed in the Doctor's mind, circling through his memory like wind.
"Grandfather! What happened?" She exclaimed nervously. "You've gone blank!"
Her statement was true; the word 'raggedy' set him off.
"Sorry," the Doctor apologised solemnly. "Memories."
"Of who?" Susan asked anxiously.
"The Ponds. Amy and Rory" He sighed. "The people who have helped me in times of need and regret. I know I told you to have no regrets, no tears and no anxieties as my farewell, but that didn't mean I wasn't overwrought with them myself as I had to go out and face my own demons. I have had so many companions in my lifetime, and each and every one was as special and as important as the next and the previous. But I've had to say goodbye to all of them. And for Amy and Rory... that was the last straw."
"Oh... you're a troubled man. You saw our race go up in flames, and you've had emotional goodbyes." There was a long silence. "Well, you don't want people reminding you of Amy and Rory in those tattered clothes. I'll get you fed, watered and I know where to get you some clothes to wear."
"Thank you."
The Doctor was now resting on a brown, velvet, reclinable armchair. His left leg was raised on a pillow, and his left arm was on the chair. William was sitting on a velvet sofa. Susan walked in from the kitchen with a plate and a mug.
"I know it's not an Andromedan cocktail, but I'm sure it will do. You'll be back up in no time. I've got you a plate of biscuits, too." The Doctor carefully took them off Susan, and rested them on his chest.
"Ugh, digestives? They're plain. Do you have any jammie dodgers?"
"No, grandfather," she said with a smile. "But you could always get some from the shop."
"It's amazing how little the world has changed since the 21st century, which is around the era I visit most. You still have jammie dodgers. Your cars still have wheels. You still have TV, and I'm willing to bet you still have The X Factor."
"Yes," William interrupted.
"Just when I thought this planet couldn't sink any lower." After this, a photograph caught his eye and he abruptly changed the subject. "What happened to David?"
"My husband David? He's still around. He's often out, but I'll let you meet him soon." She smiled. "Finished your tea?", she asked. The Doctor nodded. "Good. Is your leg and arm any better?" Again, he nodded in confirmation. "That's good. Well, it's about time to get you properly clothed. I know just the place."
***
After a fifteen-minute or so walk, they ended up at a deteriorated-looking building of curious yet impressive architecture; the structure itself was of a tall, squarish shape but with an arched section on the top. This was only thin, however; the roof itself was flat. As the trio of affinity walked inside, the wooden doors opened with a creak. There was an extremely high ceiling on the inside, and the floor was bare; only the floorboards were present. The most intriguing thing about this place, however, was the fact that there were at least a hundred racks of clothing, shelves of food and more spread out through the single room.
"Grandfather, this is where we shop. It was originally used as a ration place - and hideout - during the invasion and has now become the place to shop," Susan informed the Doctor.
"Bit deteriorated," the Doctor examined.
"So are most other places," William said. "We couldn't keep up after the earthquakes started, so we decided to leave everything as it was. Our attempts at rebuilding were, well, futile." The Doctor nodded.
"I'll leave you to pick out what you want, grandfather," Susan said. Again, the Doctor nodded.
The Doctor tried on several sets of clothes, often dismissing them himself. His first attempt consisted of something similar to his his previous outfit; brown tweed, red bow tie. As he caught a laconic glimpse of himself in the mirror of the changing room, he sighed and thought to himself. 'No, that won't do', he thought, as he remembered Amy joking around about them. He took them off and threw them over the curtain.
One of his other attempts was one he merely disliked; a black overcoat and a stripy tie. 'Ugh. Too ordinary', he thought.
His last attempt was more desirable; he wore a light blue shirt underneath an unbuttoned black velvet smoking jacket. He had found a suitable, 'tasteful' (apparently) necktie, and that was in the form of a black, tattery cravat. This form of cravat was very much like that of his first incarnation's.
Having found the perfect outfit for himself, the Doctor stepped out of the changing room. He stopped to stand in front of another mirror; this one was taller than it was wide, and was propped up against a wall. He surveyed his new outfit in that mirror and gave a brief smile of confirmation. Suddenly, Susan approached him. As he spotted her in the mirror, he turned around to face her, and outstretched his arms.
"Well? What do you think?"
"It's... a bit... er... um...", stuttered William. His mouth opened a few times in an attempt to say something but instead replaced his original statement with one slightly less harsh. "What's with the necktie thing?"
"It's a cravat," replied the Doctor, resisting the urge to call it 'cool'.
"It's... er... eccentric..."
"I'm an eccentric man," the Doctor said, straightening his cravat.
"It reminds me of your old outfit," Susan said.
"Does it?", enquired the Doctor, turning around to the mirror. "I suppose it does." He smiled.
Suddenly, a crashing sound came from outside. "Did you hear that?", the Doctor asked, turning briskly around to face his family.
"I think we all did. Sounded like it came from outside!", informed Susan.
The family all looked at one another. They all ran outside.
"Ah. Right. That's not good," stated the Doctor; a building had partly collapsed. "Looks like it was caused by seismic activity." He turned around and pointed to his great-grandson. "William, you mentioned that you suffered earthquakes. It looks like it's been caused by one, but we didn't feel it." He turned back around and clasped his hands together, before raising both of his index fingers. "So, it seems it was non-natural. Building collapses from underground, but there was no shock? Bit suspicious if you ask me."
"Well, what could it have been caused by?", William enquired.
"Judging by the way it collapsed, it looks like some kind of underground activity," the Doctor replied. Again, he turned back around. "Do you know any underground operations?"
"No."
"Ah. Bit blunt. Do you know of any way we could get underground?"
"No."
"Right. We've got a bit of a problem, then."
"But I do know a group of people who might be able to help."
And with that, the Doctor was off.
After his kin had caught up with him, he enquired about where to go next. They had ended up at another deteriorated building (most of them were all like that). Paint was scraping off the side, bricks and windows were missing, and metal was rusted.
"You really haven't returned this place to normality much, have you?", the Doctor said.
"We haven't been able to afford anything. We spent a lot of money returning a lot of central London back. The off-the-beaten-path places aren't as important, apparently. We entered a second Great Depression," Susan answered.
As she said that, the three people stepped inside the building. It was just as deteriorated inside as it was outside. It resembled some form of centre with many different facilities.
"This," William said, "is where we go to pitch in ideas to help our town out. Every town around London has one, and it's a charity to help us rebuild and return our place to normal. During the invasion, much of our technology was lost, hence why we've returned to the state we had in the early 21st century."
"I see," the Doctor understood.
There were a few townsfolk inside. Some had cups of tea, others were eating biscuits, and they all looked friendly.
"People, I'd like to introduce you to the Doctor. He's going to help us all out," William said. "At least I hope he is."
"I'll try my best," the Doctor replied. He clasped his hands together briskly and turned to face his audience. "Right. Have you lot found anything underground yet? Discovered anything unusual?"
There was a deadly silence.
"I'll take that as a 'no'."
"Well, that's not entirely true," a woman admitted. Her name was Lydia McCarthy; she looked, and probably was, like an average townsperson who you would see walking down the road on any given day.
"Go on," the Doctor said, a slight smile forming.
"We've been recieving shortwave radio frequencies broadcasted from beneath the Thames. We believe they're part of an old base which was above ground before the river began to raise."
"Can I have a listen?"
"You already are. We have 24-hour monitoring over it, but most of the time it's just silence. Occasionally, we get a crackling, alarm-like sound and a drilling sound, but we have managed to get something very eerie once or twice around five years ago. It's not been caught since, but we've got it recorded."
She inserted a CD into a player. As soon as it began, the Doctor was horrified. A harsh grating voice began.
"You... m-m-m-musss...t dr...ill... f...urth...er. T-t-th...e b...loc...kade mu...st be pas...sed."
Instantly, the Doctor recognised it as the voice of his most persistent nemeses: the Daleks. Maybe not all of them were dead after all.