The Hybrid - Doctor Who Fanfiction

25

"Watch your step, now. Footing's a bit tricky here." Missy's voice came from somewhere nearby, her voice surprisingly clear to the Doctor although everything seemed to be so far away.

Something was wrong, off in a way that made the hair at the back of his neck rise apprehensively. He nearly said so, but his gut was churning with a wave of nausea so strong it made his head spin.

He felt weak and dizzy, his mind struggling to keep up with his body, the two utterly detached in some horrible way that wasn't making much sense. Missy shoved past him when he began to lag, nearly sending him to his knees. He wasn't exhausted, per se, but unreasonably drowsy. The Doctor thought they'd been walking for what felt like miles, but in actuality only a few minutes had passed since they'd captured him at the party and went to the TARDIS.

Half awake and barely cognizant of his surroundings, the Doctor's head throbbed and pulsed as Missy's gigantic goons half-carried him through the bowels of his own ship. He was vaguely aware of the handcuffs around his wrists but didn't think that was nearly as important as the blank space that seemed to be forming in his mind. Like spilled black ink on white paper, it was spreading quickly, rendering whatever stored short term memory he'd had completely obsolete.

The Doctor had come to Kysterillous; he remembered that, but couldn't really remember why. The trip had a purpose--knew that--and he'd been doing... uh, something, something important for someone of equal importance to him. His carer. A woman with a round face that featured ill-proportioned brown eyes. He couldn't quite remember her name...

Gods, it was on the tip of his tongue, though! She was a schoolteacher that had been with a bloke he could very clearly remember despising... man called White or Green... or something like that. By Rassilon, what was she called?

An image of those eyes of hers creased in a smile as she throws her head back with laughter flashes in his subconscious.

But just as the Doctor was about to ask about her, he was suddenly thrust into a space deep inside the TARDIS, the distraction of the whereabouts of his mystery woman leaving him at once.

His vision was tricky, blurry and dim in spots and clear as crystal in others, and the result was thoroughly discombobulating, but he knew with some certainty from the bizzare flickers of light in the room combined with its domed ceiling that they'd entered the room housing the TARDIS' memory banks.

"What are we doing in here?" He immediately asked, startled when he heard how far away his voice sounded aloud. He blinked wildly as the room spun again for a moment before he regained his footing. The Fish Person to his right stiffened their grip on his bicep, steadying him.

"Mistress," an static-infused voice crackled impatiently from what sounded like a walkie-talkie radio. "Have you located the room aboard his ship? I've received no notifications--"

"Yes, Dad, we've made it safely," Missy droned in annoyance, her eyes rolling to the back of her head. "Do you have what I asked for? The girl-- tell me. Was the procedure successful?"

The Doctor blinked at her, a flicker of  what he knew would be comically short-lived remembrance igniting in his eye and relieving him of his doped state a fraction. The woman--the small one with the eyes... he remembered her name.

"Clara," He forced the name from his dry mouth, his tongue rolling around uselessly as it tried to retain the muscle memory of saying it. "I came here for Clara."

Missy hardly noticed the Doctor's revelation as she grinned from ear to ear. Obviously, the 'procedure' she'd been talking about had gone exactly as planned. The Doctor's hearts sank, but he didn't understand why. He might've understood the meaning of all this an hour or two ago, but now... It was almost like he'd sat down to watch a play that was already in its second act. And that unsettled him all the more.