The Always More (Doctor Who Fanfiction)

Chapter Six

Chapter Six
Irene

The Doctor leads me out of the TARDIS, into a familiar park. To our right, a bench and a birdfeeder glisten in the gleaming winter morning. I stare at The Doctor. He grins like he expects something from me, and checks his watch.

"Saturday, December twenty-third," he reads. "We've been gone all night."

In the distance to my left, the high school football stadium still stands. To the right, the bench I followed Taylor to. Ahead, the sun rises over a field of sparkling grass, and birds twitter and sing for the new morning. Somehow, everything looks different to me now. When I remember that today marks the day my school's Winter Break starts, I'm not even excited for no homework.

"The shadows dissipated into the air," Mr. Smith rambles. "The dead-lock shield contained the explosion. They're gone now."

"How..." I begin, returning my gaze to the TARDIS. "How do you fit the inside in the outside?" He looks a little let down, but replies anyway, with more information about the Vashna.

"When we used the teleport, we looped it back to use its past self in order to drop us back on the ship, which was a paradox. That's why the teleport was fried when we first got to it. As for the doors, I am assuming they were used for the humans they captured."

"Does it drive you crazy that we'll never know why they had them for sure?" I ask. "Or where their ship physically was, and why they sent out humans into small-town Arizona?" He looks up at the sky.

"I think... we beat them. That's all I care about."

I stare up at him curiously. "Then, will you ever answer my question?"

"What question?"

"How do you fit the inside into the out?" I repeat, gesturing towards the TARDIS. I told my arms.

Mr. Smith carefully forms the words, "I'm not British."

"Debatable."

"I'm not exactly human, either."

I opened my eyes and mouth wide with mock surprise. "Are you Scottish?" I ask.

The corner of his mouth twists up at this, but he seems more confused than anything. He looks from side to side, as if he must have heard wrong, and is checking with our invisible audience to make sure they heard what he did.

"Oh, no, I know," I laugh. "Your a cat! A Siamese kitty cat."

"A - Oi! Why Siamese?"

I open my mouth to answer, but my eyes catch something by the football stadium. Ambulances, flashing their lights. And then I am running again, rushing through the cold breeze, with my feet beating the ground faster and faster.

I join the crowd who have gathered around the scene, and I desperately push my way to the front. Paramedics are wheeling a stretcher up towards the truck. Soft brown skin, and black hair contrast with the sheets. Her eyes are closed, and she's barely breathing, but I would recognize the doll-like features anywhere. It's Taylor.

"Um... Mr. Smith?" I ask, alarmed. He is behind me, of course, and he puts his hand on my shoulder.

"It's alright," he says. "It's left her. She's safe, now."