I Didn't Mean It (Doctor Who)

Ch.18: Truth

Recap:

"Y-you're..." He began, but he was too shocked to finish.

I looked down at my hand. My fingers had fallen away like a cap, revealing a shimmering silver gun built into my hand underneath. I had lost control of my body, as if I were being controlled by a remote control.

"You're not human," Doctor breathed.

~o0o~

"What am I?!" I asked, horrified.

"An Auton, a dupilicate," Doctor said, his eyes remaining wide, but never meeting mine. He looked down at the floor, his eyes growing even larger with realization as he sorted through all the signs. 

"She was created with Dalek technology, made to kill you!" The Dalek laughed, a shrill robotic laugh that sent shivers down my spine. Like fingernails scraping across a chalk board.

"Doctor, what is it talking about?! It's me! Alice! I'm human!" I shouted, although I didn't know if I believed my own words. I struggled to keep my hands steady, feeling tremors running through my fingertips. My eyes edged with tears as a feeling of sheer panic coursed its way through me.

I yelped as I felt my arm slowly moving upwards, pointing towards the Doctor. I was losing control of my own body. "Doctor, I'm scared!" I cried, my voice shaking.

"Listen, Alice, whatever happens, just know it is not your fault. It was never your fault," Doctor said softly.

I screamed as a fiery blue light flashed from my hand, hurtling into the Doctor. He flew back against the wall, the plaster crumbling behind him, and fell hard onto the ground. He looked up at me feebly before his eyes closed. For a moment, everything was dead silent, as if a single movement would disturb what was going on.

A small, shimmering sound filled the room, and a faint golden light began to increase in brightness around the Doctor, small specks swirling around his hands. His whole body seemed to glow with what I assumed was the regeneration power that he had told me about. For a moment I had a flicker of hope that he would be okay, but it disappeared as another blast shot from my hand, jolting the Doctor backwards once again.

"No! Doctor!" I screamed, tears flooding down my cheeks. The golden light stopped abruptly and fluttered down to the ground like dust, blackening on the floor around him. I tried to run to him, but my feet felt as if they were glued to the floor.

I closed my eyes, sobbing, as I felt shot after shot fire from my hand, seemigly neverending. I never wanted to open them again. "Victory! The Doctor has been killed by his own beloved companion! Daleks are superior!" I heard squealing mechanical voices all around me, piercing me like daggers.

My muscles loosened as I began to regain control of my body. I gasped for air, feeling as if I had just been strangled, and ran over to the Doctor, tears blurring my vision. I knelt down beside his horrifyingly limp body, feeling panic begin to overwhelm me. I placed two fingers on his neck, checking his pulse. I broke into a sob as I felt nothing but the coldness of his skin.

I layed my head on his chest, imagining the sound of his heartbeats, and cradled him like a child. His tattered bow tie lay discarded on the ground beside him. I picked it up gingerly with shaking hands and sheltered it in my palm, my fingers forming a cage around it. I broke down as I saw his blood stained on my hands. Everything felt as if it weren't moving around me. The chants of the Daleks were muffled around me and my body buzzed with numbness. I'm pretty sure there were tears rolling down my cheeks but I couldn't feel them anymore. I barely noticed an outside source beginning to drag me away by my feet, until the realization dawned on me. I thrashed wildly, knowing it was a Dalek. It had sucked onto the back of my sneaker with its toilet plunger arm, pulling me across the floor.

"Get away from me!" I hissed, wiping tears from my eyes. I clawed at the ground, my mouring turning into rage. I kicked wildly, but my kicks landed uselessly on its metal side. "I'm sorry Doctor," I murmured as I was dragged into a dark hallway.

I gave up, letting my body go limp as I was hauled farther into darkness. The floor grew moist from beneath me, the concrete scraping up my skin. I heard the faint dripping of water from the ceiling on the floor, somewhat soothing. We stopped finally, the Dalek releasing my sneaker and shoving me into a foul cell, with rotting, rusted iron bars. The ground was immensly cold from underneath me, and cell consisted of nothing but crumbled concrete walls and mildew. I heard the Dalek wheeling away, leaving me in the darkness to gather what had just happened.

I still clutched the Doctor's tattered bowtie in my hand, my thumb absently smoothing over the creases. I studied the area around me, running my hands over the rough bars. There were plenty of areas where the bars twisted inwards, leaving holes that could easily be crawled through, especially with how small I was.

"But then what?" I asked quietly to myself. If I got out, I was still in a ship floating in the middle of deep space, loaded with Daleks. They knew that too, that's why they didn't take the time to make a proper cell. They were powerful, I was weak. I didn't think I really wanted to get out. I deserved to be here. I killed the Doctor.

I curled myself up into a ball in the corner, feeling mixed feelings beginning to overwhelm me. I felt rage, depression, and terror all at once. Millions of thoughts pounded through my head. I didn't really know who I was anymore. I wasn't Alice Rice. She had died long ago, and I was just a copy. A duplicate. A trap. I replaced her. But every time I tried to believe it, I couldn't. The memories felt so real. Every feeling she had ever felt, I remembered, I felt it.

I closed my eyes, wishing I would never open them again. I wish I could just sleep forever, to dream up a new life, a life where I still traveled with the Doctor and our adventures continued right where they left off. Maybe that's all this was, a dream. I would wake up in my dark blue bed in the TARDIS, opening my eyes to see the stars glinting through my window, and wonder where the Doctor would take me next.

Yet when I opened my eyes, I was not in my bedroom. I saw the same filthy, dark surroundings, and the pain still coursed through me. I lay on my back, looking up at the concrete ceiling, and took a deep breath that sounded more like a sob.

I grabbed a stick near me, not bothering to address my curiousness at how the hell a stick had actually gotten in a spaceship prison cell, and rolled over onto my knees. I began to etch little stars and galaxies in the concrete walls. The soft sound of the stick scraping against the wall soothed me momentarily. I began to draw everywhere, reaching up to even the highest corners to scrape in a few planets. In the middle I drew a large TARDIS, making shine marks around the windows. I made the door ajar, as if inviting me in.

After I was finished I gently set down the stick by the bow tie, forming my own little stash. I sat back on my haunches, looking at my creation. I slowly ran one finger along the lines of the TARDIS, feeling more tears run down my cheeks. I thought the drawing would make me feel better, make me feel more at home, but seeing it only reminded me.

I returned to the corner, curling back up against the walls. I closed my eyes and waited for sleep, my breath coming out in billows of white steam against the cold air. I slowly felt my consciousness slipping away until I was lost in a world of nightmares.