THE UNQUIET DEAD
edited as of april 9th, 2020
When Charlotte woke up on her bed, she knew something was off. Instinctively, she looked to her watch to find the time, but once again (as she had all these weeks) found it bare, as it was burnt to dust from the x-tonic sunlight. She sighs and looks around. Despite the familiarity of her TARDIS bedroom, with everything just how she left it went she fell asleep, there was something in the back of her head telling her there was in fact something wrong.
Sitting up from her bed, she noticed where she placed her cane was barren of anything. While Charlotte was quite disappointed in that, her leg has been healing rapidly lately and yesterday she could walk perfectly fine without it. Unfortunately, there's still a limp but it has yet to exclude her from any adventure.
Her hair too has been making a comeback. With the help of the 2050s gel, her head of hair went just below her shoulders when she quit putting the stuff in it and wisps of eyebrows appeared. Due to being afraid of putting the stuff on her eyelids, even when it's stated on the bottle it was safe, the eyelashes have been coming back slowly but surely.
Changing out of her pajamas, she decided to put on a pair of jeans and a grey sweater and finally left her room.
The lights in the halls emitted an orange color, causing her to stiffen. The last time Charlotte was with the Tenth Doctor, he mentioned changing the lighting to a yellow tint soon after regenerating ("-Too much orange..." he said. "Wanted to have a little change, if regenerating wasn't enough.") It was more likely than not, that today will be the first time she meets the Ninth Doctor... which she was rather nervous for.
He didn't have much in common with his Tenth or Eleventh regenerations and she hardly got to meet the Twelfth with him being stuck in the TARDIS for most of her time there. He hasn't even known her for as long they have, what if he doesn't even like her? She shook her head, even if he did it'd obviously disappear somehow.
Charlotte exhaled loudly and began her trip in finding the console room. However, after a few seconds, the TARDIS began to move and shake. Holding onto the railing that runs throughout the hall, she continued to move down. With the sharp turns and mayhem of the moving TARDIS, she did have much more struggle.
Hearing voices from the next room, she looked through the doorway to see Rose Tyler and the Ninth Doctor at the console- trying to control on their own as the constant beeps of an alarm come from the ceiling. Panting exhaustedly at the doorway, Charlotte just watched for a moment.
The Ninth Doctor, who has his back facing her, tells Rose, "Hold that one down!" He nods to a lever.
"I'm holding this one down!" She shouts back, motioning to her lever she held down, but Charlotte could only see a part of her face from where she stood.
He responded with, "Well, hold them both down!"
For only a split second, the TARDIS was completely steady. Seeing this as her moment, Charlotte bolted to the console, holding down the exact lever he was pointing to. Looking to the Doctor, however, she saw no signs of recognition on his face when he looked at her.
"Who are you?" He questioned her. "How did you get in here?"
Before she could answer, the TARDIS takes a sharp turn. "I'm Charlotte!" She exclaimed, but he still looked at her suspiciously. "Charlotte Bolton?"
Rose, still holding a switch down, yells back to the Doctor, "Can we figure this out when we land?!"
The Doctor doesn't disagree, focusing on steering the TARDIS. "1860 sound good?"
"What happened in 1860?" She asks.
He shrugged. "I don't know- Hold on, here we go!" The TARDIS moves faster through the time vortex. Just a minute later, they all fell to the ground as the TARDIS stops, finally materializing in 1860 with no warning with steam coming out of the console.
Along with the Doctor and Rose, Charlotte stood up from the ground. He immediately turned to her, his eyes staring into her's coldly. "You can't be Charlotte," he said as if he was convinced she wasn't.
"Are you joking?" She replied with a nervous laugh. "'Cause I think I know my own name! Ha, ha. Gotcha." But the Doctor still stared at her with his eyebrows pushed together, as if he was calculating her.
He retorts back with, "And how am I supposed to know that?"
Charlotte was oblivious on how to answer. The only things she could say, at least in front of Rose, was common knowledge. Thankfully, Rose piped up as she looked to the Doctor. "Doctor? Remember what she told us to remember earlier?" He nods and she continued, "What if this Charlotte says what she said..."
Charlotte interrupted, "How would I know? I haven't been there yet!"
"You'll have to remember it then," the Doctor answered.
She made an 'O' shape with her mouth. Thinking hard, Charlotte knew she'd have to pick something memorable, something she won't forget- especially in the far future, when she'll look far different, apparently. Charlotte thought back to the first day she was here and remembered what the Doctor told her at Donna's reception.
"2-0-4," she finally said, but they stood still. "Yeah, 2-0-4."
The two look back to each other than back to her. "I don't get it, how can you-" the Doctor stops, remembering one passing comment Charlotte made earlier. "Oh."
Charlotte doesn't even think about that moment, not seeing as anything worthy of note. "So, where are we?" She asked, despite knowing very well where they were. "What day is it?"
He moves to the scanner, looking at it he says, "Earth, Naples, December 24th, 1860," then added with extra excitement, "I did it! The TARDIS didn't break at all."
"That's so weird... it's Christmas," responded Rose.
The Doctor gestures to the door. "All yours."
She looked back to the doors. "But, it's like..." Rose said, looking back to him. "Think about it, though. Christmas. 1860. Happens once. Just once, and it's gone. It's finished, it'll never happen again. Except for you- the both of you," She corrected herself, quickly looking back to Charlotte before studying the Doctor. "You can go back and see days that are dead and gone and a hundred thousand sunsets ago... no wonder you never stay still."
"Not a bad life," said the Doctor.
She smiled. "Better with three," she responded. For a few moments, they grinned to each other- Charlotte smiled too, but it felt as if she was the third wheel. Rose dashes to the door, standing in front of it she shouts back to them, "Come on then!"
He looks over to her. "Oi, where do you think you're going?"
"1860!" She answered, easily.
He looked to Rose as if she was out of her mind. "Go out there dressed like that, you'll start a riot, the both of you!" He motioned to Charlotte in second thought. Rose looks down at her clothes, getting what he meant. Charlotte, however, even with the TV show, was still confused... she went to 1860 France in a wedding dress and didn't remember starting any 'riots.'
Rose came back over as the Doctor points to the entrance Charlotte just came from. "There's a wardrobe through there. First left, second right, third on the left, go straight ahead, under the stairs, past the bins, it's the fifth door on your left." He looked back at Rose and Charlotte. "Hurry up!"
Rushing behind Rose, Charlotte speed-walked in the direction of the wardrobe. In her time, she has only gone there for a few things, as most of the time she could get by with the clothes in her own wardrobe. However, she doubted there would be a period-appropriate dress crammed into those drawers.
In the TARDIS wardrobe, she and Rose separated in their own searches for an outfit. Brushing her hands down the racks of clothes, Charlotte quickly found the small section specific for the late 1860s women's fashion. Rose stood there too, looking at a black off-the-shoulder dress.
"I like that, that'd look great on you," Charlotte tells her, trying to get on her good side after their questionable meeting.
"Yeah, guess I'll try it on." And when she went to get changed, Charlotte continued looking- eventually deciding on tucking a white, high-neck buttoned-up blouse into a black skirt. Knowing about the cold weather, she threw on a black shawl over her shoulders.
And seeing Rose still putting the finishing touches on her outfit, Charlotte left the wardrobe first and went back to the console room. Once she re-entered it, she saw the Doctor doing repair work underneath the console. Standing behind him, Charlotte watched what he was doing as she stood behind him (still unnoticed).
"What're you doing?"
"Just some repairs." The Doctor turns to face her. "You look... nice."
"I'll take it as a compliment," She responded as he returned to his repairs, buzzing the sonic below the console.
Not long later, Rose rejoined them- wearing the black dress Charlotte recommended and matching shawl. The Doctor looked away from his work and up to her in surprise. "Blimey!"
"Don't laugh!" Rose orders him with a smile.
"You look beautiful!" The Doctor looked away awkwardly and paused. "... Considering."
"Considering what?"
"Absolutely nothing," interrupted Charlotte, giving a sharp look to the Doctor. "'Cause you look amazing."
The Doctor tilted his head. "I was going to say considering because you're human." At that, Charlotte sighed.
Smiling, Rose was awfully amused. "I think that's a compliment." She noticed how the Doctor still wore the same outfit as before, while the two were dressed appropriately. "Aren't you going to change?"
Standing up from underneath the console, he motioned to the dark jumper placed underneath it. "I've changed my jumper! Come on!"
"You, stay there!" Rose playfully commanded him. "You've done this before. This is mine!" She hurries over to the TARDIS doorway, opening it up she was met with the snowy, 19th-century streets. Looking down at the ground, Rose hesitated to set her foot into the untouched snow. She lifts it out of the snow and looked at her footprint, cautiously she stepped out altogether with Charlotte and the Doctor following behind.
"Ready for this?" The Doctor asked Rose, offering his arm to her- which she took with a smile. "Here we go. History!"
And just like that, with Charlotte following alongside the two, and the three began their trek on the snowy streets. As they looked around the Cardiff Square in amazement, the Doctor wore his typical grin. Gazing around the town, Charlotte watched as carol singers sang merrily further away, horses clopped down the brick street as they pulled carriages, and people going about their everyday lives all around them... unknowing of the time travelers walking amongst them.
Charlotte doesn't think she'll ever get over the odd, yet sensational feeling.
When a fleet of horses pulls a carriage past them, they wait for it to pass. When it did soon after, Charlotte and Rose followed the Doctor when he rushed over to a newsboy. Buying a copy of the day's newspaper, they continued walking down as the Doctor unfolded it.
Seeing the date, he looked over to them. "I got the flight a bit wrong."
"I don't care."
"It's not 1860, it's 1869."
Charlotte beamed. "Even better!"
"It's Cardiff."
As the two continued walking down the pavement, Rose stopped in her tracks. "Right..." she said before moving to catch up. They carried on walking undisturbed until, and as they grew closer to a theatre, shrieks of terror were heard from across the street.
The Doctor turns ecstatic, throwing the newspaper over his shoulder. "That's more like it!" He says, then running in the direction of the theatre as people began running out. Pushing against the current of strangers screaming as they ran out, they finally entered and Charlotte quickly noticed blue gas flying around in the air- scaring the living daylights out of the guests.
"Fantastic!" The Doctor exclaims at the sight, watching as the blue gas swooped down from the ceiling and seemingly starting from a pale, older woman. This woman stood in the middle of a row quietly and unafraid of what was happening with her head raised to the ceiling emotionlessly. The lady in question collapses to the ground once all the gas left her body.
Seeing this, the Doctor rushed to the stage, where angrily stood a middle-aged man whose long, brunette goatee was beginning to grey. "Ah. The wag reveals himself, does he? I trust you're satisfied, sir!"
Charlotte, looking over to the old woman, spots Sneed and Gwyneth approaching her. "Oi! We-" she looked over to where Rose previously stood, only to see no one. Looking around, she spots the blonde standing beside the Doctor. Huffing, she shouted out her name and Rose turns her head over. "I got it!" She shouted, chasing after Sneed and Gwyneth.
"Be careful!" Responded Rose.
Charlotte pushed upstream of the strangers running out of the theatre to keep up with Gwyneth and Sneed as they haul the old lady to their carriage. As she stepped onto the sidewalk, she saw them both finish sliding the body into the back of their hearse and immediately rushed over.
"What do you think you're doing?" She asked Gwyneth, who stood alone at the end of the hearse.
Gwyneth, trying to hide the dead body from Charlotte, pushed herself in between her and the open door. "Oh, it's such a tragedy, miss. Don't worry yourself, me and the master will deal with it." When Charlotte tilted her head to get a look, Gwyneth moved in the same direction. "The fact is, this poor lady's been taken with the brain fever and we have to get her to the infirmary."
"She's dead," Charlotte pushed, wanting to get it out of her.
Gwyneth over-exaggeratedly shook her head. "No, miss, brain fever."
Frustrated, Charlotte pushes past Gwyneth to see the woman. Looking down, she easily recognized her as dead. Turning her head back to Gwyneth, she didn't even get a word out when a hand clamps a tissue over her mouth and nose. Struggling, her muffled screams were heard by no one as Sneed easily held her back, only for her to go silent and go limp after a few seconds.
"What did you do that for?" Gwyneth asked him, looking down at the unconscious woman. While they didn't start on the right page, she knew the brunette meant well.
"She's seen too much," Sneed whispered-yelled at his servant. "Get her in the hearse!" Obeying her master's command, she grabbed the unknown woman's ankles as Sneed aided her in lifting Charlotte up and setting her inside the hearse.
---
Not long later, Gwyneth carefully shuffled in backward into the Chapel of Rest- the room where Sneed and Company laid the dead in their coffins. Holding onto the ankles of the still unconscious Charlotte, Sneed held her beneath her arms.
"The poor girl's still alive, sir! What're we going to do with her?" Gwyneth questioned him as they laid her on a table set in the middle of the room, and was between two open coffins.
"I don't know!" exclaimed Sneed, looking over at his servant exasperatedly. "I didn't plan any of this, did I. Isn't my fault the dead won't stay dead."
"Then whose fault is it, sir?" Gwyneth follows after her master as he began to leave the room. "Why is this happening to us?" She leaves the room behind him, closing and locking the door. Unbeknownst to either of them, a gaslight in the room flickers ever so slightly.
"I did the Bishop a favor, once," Mr. Sneed tells Gwyneth as they walk through the hallway on the ground floor of the Sneed and Company building. "Made his nephew look like a cherub. Even though he'd been a fortnight in the weir." He stops walking in front of her. "Perhaps he'll do us an exorcism on the cheap." Both of their thoughts came to a halt when a loud knock was heard at their front door.
Sneed, paranoid the people at the door saw what he did, looked over to Gwyneth seriously. "Say I'm not in. Tell them we're closed. Just... just get rid of them." He then ran back down the hall to hide as Gwyneth approached the door.
Waking up in the Chapel of Rest, Charlotte rubbed her head as she sat upon the table. As she does so, gas from the lamps filled up the body of a young man that rested in the coffin beside her. Then, all of a sudden, he sits up with his skin so pale it looked blue. Charlotte turns her head and spotted the late Mr. Redpath staring straight at her with his cold, dead eyes.
Downstairs, Gwyneth answered the door after a series of loud knocks. Opening it up, an angry Charles Dickens stood before her with another man in a leather jacket and a blonde girl standing behind him. "I'm sorry, sir, we're closed," Gwyneth told him, keeping a hand at the door.
"Nonsense!" declared Charles, not believing her. "Since when did an undertaker take office hours? The dead don't die on schedule. I demand to see your master."
"He's not in, sir," Gwyneth gave a weak smile and attempted to close the door, but Dickens kept a strong arm on it and forced it to stay open.
"Don't lie to me, child!"
The servant looked at Charles taken aback before regaining her composure. "I'm awfully sorry, Mr. Dickens, but the master's indisposed."
Behind Charles, the Doctor looks at a lamp hung inside of the building as it flared up on its own. "Having trouble with your gas?" He asked her.
Dickens looked to it too, his head tilting as he became confused. "What the Shakespeare is going on?"
Charlotte jumps off the table, watching carefully as the young man who had the gas go into him groans in a zombie-like manner. She backs up towards the door, keeping an eye on him as he left the casket- stalking towards her slowly with his steps unsteady.
"Oh, my God. Oh, my God," she repeated under her breath. Frantically, she attempted to open the door but found it locked.
Pushing past Gwyneth, the Doctor forced his way into the Sneed and Company hallway. With Rose following him, he presses his ear on the wall beneath the flickering gaslight.
"You're not allowed inside, sir, miss!" But her complaints were not followed by them leaving.
"What is it?" Rose asked him urgently, as something did not feel right to her.
"There's something in the walls."
As the late Redpath continues to slowly walk towards her, Charlotte, with her back to the door, could only watch as the old lady from the theatre sat up straight in her own coffin- the same dead look on her face as the man.
The Doctor, with his ear still to the wall, looked up to them. "The gas pipes. Something's living inside the gas."
Charlotte grew desperate as the man ambled towards her. Quickly, she took a vase from a small table and chucked it at his torso- shattering on him. Despite her attempt, he stood strong and could easily continue moving slowly towards her.
"Help!" She shouted, running out of ideas. "Help me! Anyone... please!" Charlotte pounds against the door. She turns around, watching as the elderly lady stands out of her casket and begins to move towards her with the late Redpath.
Charlotte scrambled to open a drawer, seeing nothing in it, she found the drawer wasn't attached to the table and took it out from it. Chucking it at the dead man, it bounced dumbly off of him and fell to the ground. Seeing no other option, Charlotte turned back to the door, hammering on to it as she shouts, "Somebody, let me out! Let me out!"
Then, when a cold hand was placed over her mouth to muffle her shouts, she was pulled away from the door. However, only a second later, the door was kicked in by the Doctor. Seeing her struggling against the dead man's grip, he rushed to her aid. "I think this is my dance," he says as he released her from their grip and pulled her to stand beside him by the doorway.
Charles Dickens joined them. Standing in the doorway beside Rose, he looks at the dead astound. "It's a prank. It must be," he figures. "We're under some mesmeric influence."
"No, we're not. The dead are walking," the Doctor tells him, he looked over to the panting Charlotte. "Hi."
"Hi!" She looked over to Charles, then back to the Doctor. "Got a friend?"
"Charles Dickens," replied the Doctor.
Charlotte's grin widened- he wasn't her favorite author, she was more of a Jane Austen person, but he was brilliant in his own right. "Oh, good."
The Doctor looked to the corpses, which stand eerily facing them. "My name's the Doctor. Who are you then?" He demands them. "What do you want?"
Redpath begins speaking along with the raspy voices coming from seemingly nowhere. "We're failing," they said together. "Open the rift, we're dying. Trapped in this form, cannot sustain, help us." Both the late Redpath and the elderly woman lift their heads to the ceiling, and with a cry, the blue gas leaves the bodies through their mouth and returns to the lamps. Once all has left them, the bodies fell to the floor.
---
Downstairs, in the Sneed Parlour, Gwyneth carefully pours their guests' hot tea into small, floral teacups in front of Charles and Rose. Meanwhile, a fuming Charlotte paced in front of Mr. Sneed as he sat in his comfy chair.
"You drug me, you kidnap me..." Charlotte points an accusing finger at him. "And then let your hands wander, you disgusting old man!" Standing beside the fireplace, the Doctor snickers under his breath.
"I won't be spoke to like this!"
"Well too bad!" scoffed Charlotte as the man in the chair shook his head. "You put me in that room! You ran off and locked the door! You left me to die! So, hurry up now, talk!" Gwyneth set Sneed's tea on the side table.
"It's not my fault, it's this house!" Sneed looks around to see their intrigued looks. "It always had a reputation. Haunted. But I never had much of a bother until a few months back. And then the stiffs..." He looked over to Dickens to see his minor offense of the word and corrected himself, "... the, er, dear departed started getting restless."
Dickens set his cup of tea on the table and shook his head. "Tommyrot."
"You witnessed it!" Sneed exclaimed, bending forward his seat. "Can't keep the beggars out, sir! They walk. And it's the queerest thing that they hang onto the scraps..."
Gwyneth approached the Doctor with his cup of tea, setting it on the fireplace mantle. "Two sugars, sir, just how you like it." As she retreated back to the kitchen, the Doctor watched her with his eyes narrowed- never did he tell her how he liked his tea, so how could she know?
In his seat, Mr. Sneed continues on, "... One old fella who used to be a sexton almost walked into his own memorial service! Just like the old lady going to your performance, sir! Just as she planned."
Charles stands up from his seat. "Morbid fancy."
"Oh, Charles, you were there," responded the Doctor.
"I saw nothing but an illusion."
"If you're going to deny it, don't waste my time. Just shut up," the Doctor retorts back at Charles, who looked to be stunned by what he said. The Doctor looks back to Sneed. "What about the gas?"
Mr. Sneed turns his head. "That's new, sir, never seen anything like that."
"Means it's getting stronger," the Doctor realized, "the rift's getting wider and something's sneaking through."
With her eyebrows pushed together, Rose looked over at him, confused about what he meant. "What's the rift?" She asked.
"A weak point in time and space," describes the Doctor. "The connection between this point and another."
Her arms crossed, Charlotte glanced over at Rose. "It's also what caused ghost stories if I'm right," she added and then looked over to the Doctor for clarification. "I am right, right?"
"Right," he answered.
"That's how I got the house so cheap..." Mr. Sneed realizes, just as Charles left the room unnoticed by any.
Sneed carries on, "Stories going back centuries. Echoes in the dark. Queer songs in the air and this feeling like a... shadow. Passing over your soul." By now, everyone was captivated by what he had to say... not one looking away. "Mind you, truth be told, it's been good for business. Just what people expect from a gloomy old trade like mine." The Doctor laughs quietly to himself at Sneed's comment.
---
Walking into the kitchen area, Charlotte and Rose noticed Gwyneth lighting another gaslight. She blows out her match and turns over to the two as they stand at the sink. "Please, miss! You shouldn't be helping!" Gwyneth insists. "It's not right."
"Don't be daft. Sneed works you to death." Rose handed her the cloth to dry her hands. "How much do you get paid?"
"Eight pound a year, miss."
Charlotte blinks- finding it strange how little someone was paid. "Eight?"
"I know." Gwyneth laughs lightly. "I would've been happy with six."
Rose looked over at Gwyneth as she returned to the chores, thrown for a moment. "So, did you go to school or what?"
With her eyebrows raised, Charlotte eyed Rose. "You can't just ask that!" She whisper-yells to her.
"It's quite alright, miss," Gwyneth assured her. "Of course I went. What do you think I am? An urchin? I went every Sunday. Nice and proper."
"What, once a week?"
Gwyneth shook her head with a smile. "We did sums and everything." Her smile drops as she turns serious. "To be honest, I hated every second."
"Me too," agreed Rose.
"I didn't either," Charlotte commented with a laugh, much to Rose's surprise. "Math was the worst. I'm rubbish at it."
Gwyneth leaned in as if what she was about to say was scandalous. "Don't tell anyone, but one week, I didn't go and ran on the heath all on my own!" She laughs.
"I did plenty of that. I used to go down to the shops with my mate Shareen. And we used to go look at boys!"
Right away, Gwyneth quit laughing as her eyes grew. "Well, I don't know much about that, miss." She returned to washing up.
"Come on, times haven't changed that much! I bet both of you've done the same."
Charlotte shrugged her shoulders. "Well, I have been in a few relationships in the day..."
"I don't think I should say, miss."
"Gwyneth! You can tell me!" Rose tells her, but she still has her back turned. "Bet you've got your eye on someone."
Gwyneth looks back to them timidly. "I suppose. There is this one lad..." She looked at the thrilled Rose as she began glowing at the thought of him. "The butcher's boy. He comes by every Tuesday. Such a lovely smile on him!"
"Oh, I like a nice smile," agreed Rose. "Good smile, nice bum." Rose glanced over at Charlotte, seeing her red with second-hand embarrassment. "Oh, don't act like there's nothing you like!"
Charlotte looks around sheepishly. "All of my exes did have a nice head of hair."
"Oh, I like that, good head of hair."
Gwyneth looks to the two, astounded. "Well, I have never heard the like!" All three of them laughed together.
"Ask him out!" Urged Rose. "Give him a cup of tea or something, that's a start."
"I swear, it's the strangest thing, miss. You've got all the clothes and the breeding but you talk like some sort of wild thing!"
Rose shrugged her shoulders. "Maybe I am. Maybe that's a good thing. You need a bit more in your life than Mr. Sneed."
"Ah, now that's not fair." Gwyneth tilted her head. "He's not so bad, old Sneed. He was very kind to me to take me in. Because I lost my mum and dad to the flu when I was twelve."
"I'm sorry," Charlotte said to her.
"Thank you, miss," replied Gwyneth with a smile. "But I'll be with them again, one day. Sitting with them in paradise. I should be so blessed. They're waiting for me." She looks up, thinking about seeing them again, then she looks back at Charlotte and Rose. "Maybe your parents are up there waiting for you too, miss. And your father, too."
Charlotte hums in response before scrutinizing her. "How do you know about them?" She asked her while knowing the answer, she also knew she shouldn't speed up the process any.
Gwyneth's eyes widened as she turned back to washing the dishes. "I don't know," she answers, "must've been the Doctor."
"No, he hardly even looks at me." Charlotte shook her head. "I doubt I've talked about my parents."
Rose looks at Gwyneth baffled. "My father died years back."
"You've been thinking about him lately, more than ever," Gwyneth replied, looking back to her.
"I s'pose so... how do you know all this?"
Gwyneth chuckles under her breath. "Mr. Sneed says I think too much. I'm all alone down here." She looked around the kitchen and her eyes landed back on Rose. "I bet you've got dozens of servants, haven't you miss."
They laughed again and Rose answered, "No, no servants where I'm from."
"And you've come such a long way."
Her eyebrows furrowing, Rose looked at Gwyneth. "What makes you think so?"
The woman in question steps forward, her eyes staring head on to Rose. "You're from London. I've seen London in drawings, but never like that. All those people rushing about. Half naked, for shame. And the noise... the metal boxes racing past... and the birds in the sky... they're metal as well." Charlotte watched intently as Gwyneth continued, "Metal birds with people in them. People flying. And you, you've flown so far, further than anyone! The things you've seen... the darkness... the big bad wolf..." Panting, she staggers back, pushing her back against the shelves. "I'm sorry! I'm sorry, miss!"
"S'alright..." Rose tells her, utterly confused about what just happened.
"I can't help it, ever since I was a little girl. My mum said I had the sight. She told me to hide it!"
"But it's getting stronger," a voice interrupted in the doorway. Looking over, they spot the Doctor standing in the doorframe, watching. "More powerful, is that right?"
Taken aback, Gwyneth took a second to answer. "All the time, sir. Every night. Voices in my head."
"You grew up on top of the rift. You're part of it. You're the key."
"I've tried to make sense of it, sir." She dabs her forward with the cloth, still shaken with what happened with Rose. "Consulted with spiritualists, table wrappers, all sorts."
"Well, that should help. You can show us what to do."
"What- What to do where, sir?"
"We're going to have a seance," the Doctor answered with a wide grin.
_______
Next up: Unquiet Dead Part Two (Another Ghost Story)
A/N: ... how is this #10 in #doctorwho... i do not deserve that lmao
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