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Post by Sarah Jane on Sept 21, 2011 22:42:10 GMT -5
She shoved things into her pockets and locked the box with a twist.
The first few steps felt like she was taking them on stilts. Then she heard it, sounds being driven from her friend with the violence they were subjecting him to. She could hear the sound of the pounding as well, but she did not wish to describe it, even in her mind. Sarah Jane was running, sprinting back down the hall, high up on the balls of her feet. What she saw when she came around the corner was obscene to her. It made what she did next so easy.
Two handed, she struck hard at their skulls, first one hefty guard, then catching the other on the back swing as she stepped in, grace and speed making up for power. In that moment, she could almost understand how the cruel could do what they did. It felt good when the fiends collapsed. She knew she wouldn't have cared if either or both of them were dead when she saw the Doctor, revealed as the goons went down.
Oh, what they had done to him. He'd gotten at least part way in to the second round of a boxing match he was loosing. A wordless naked sound came out of her, bird like.
Then an odd thing happened, in her mind, she intended to drop the baton on the floor. Instead, she rammed it into her pocket. She took up the feet of the guard whose meaty arms lay across the Doctor's prone form, blue face smashed up against his thigh. Sarah pulled with all her might, stronger in her distress, and managed to get him off the Doctor, his skin face making a disturbing squeaking sound on the shiny floor like a rubbed balloon.
"That...that was unpleasant." The Doctor sounded like hell. "Nothing broken," he said, as he tried and failed to stand. "I... I think I'll just sit here for another moment." He gave her a smile, most amazingly, though his lip split and started to trickle chinward. "What about you?" he asked. "Are you all right?"
I'm fine, she thought. Well, if you're fine, why are you standing there gawking instead of doing something?
"I'm fine. All fine." She gave a little shake of her head. "I hit them." She said, almost to herself, then burst into motion. She got down on one knee before him, taking his chin in her hand with a butterfly light touch. She guided his face up a little to see better what was contusion and what was shadow. She guided his chin back down and looked hard into his eyes. Who knew what happened to a Time Lord's eyes when they got whacked too hard, but she was looking for anything different. Then she stopped looking at his eyes and looked into them.
"I'm sorry I'm late. Doctor I'm so sorry." Her deep worry for him clear in the sadness of her mouth, her hand dropping. "Took a side trip." The smallest quirk of the corner of her mouth shown then, and she brandished his Sonic screwdriver in one hand and his yo yo with the other, giving them over to him. It had taken her not half a minute to take them from the locker. Though seeing him, now, she almost wished she hadn't.
She suddenly leaped to her feet like a doe, looking around nervously though she heard nothing. She looked back to him, frowning with concern. Stepping quickly toe to toe, she braced herself low and well, reaching out her hands to help haul him up, afraid to try to haul him up by the torso.
"Come on . . .come on, I'll help, we've got to get out of here, or find somewhere to hide."
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Post by The First Doctor on Sept 22, 2011 21:44:47 GMT -5
"I'm fine. All fine." She gave a little shake of her head. "I hit them."
"Good," he said, "That you're fine, I mean." He winced as she turned his head from side to side. "I was - ow! - worried about you."
"I'm sorry I'm late. Doctor I'm so sorry." Her deep worry for him clear in the sadness of her mouth, her hand dropping.
"Don't... don't worry about it," he said, wincing as he made a small, dismissive gesture. "We - ow - we had a plan, right? And it worked. We're free, right?"
Cautiously, he probed his teeth with his tongue. "Good," he muttered, "I hate having to cut new teeth."
"Took a side trip." The smallest quirk of the corner of her mouth shown then, and she brandished his Sonic screwdriver in one hand and his yo yo with the other, giving them over to him.
"Brilliant!" He took the screwdriver and the yo-yo, grinned (wincing slightly as he did), and stuck them both in an inner pocket of his coat. "Wonderful things, yo-yos," he said, "A thousand and one uses."
"Come on . . .come on, I'll help, we've got to get out of here, or find somewhere to hide."
"That's - ouch! - the spirit!" He pulled himself to his feet, using her arm and shoulder and the wall to steady himself as he did. He wobbled for a second, then smiled fondly as he brushed something away from her cheek. "A tear, Sarah Jane? No, don't cry. While there's life, there's hope."
And then he gritted his teeth as his back tried to seize up. "And I must be alive," he tried to joke. "I'd hate to think death hurts so much."
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Post by Sarah Jane on Sept 24, 2011 3:31:58 GMT -5
"Good," he said, "That you're fine, I mean." He winced as she turned his head from side to side.
"I was - ow!
"Uhmm Uhmm." She agreed, bitter and softly to his words and his pain.
"- worried about you."
"Well, me too for a second, but I'm fine, you saw to that, didn't you by not fighting back? You could have taken them, Hooligan." She said this, quite straight faced, with only a quirk of eyebrow. Then her lip trembled. "I'm sorry I'm late. Doctor I'm so sorry." Her deep worry for him clear in the sadness of her mouth, her hand dropping away from his face.
"Don't... don't worry about it," he said, wincing as he made a small, dismissive gesture. "We - ow - we had a plan, right? And it worked. We're free, right?"
She just nodded, still feeling deeply guilty. It did help to be able to bring him back the yo - yo, and incidentally, his Sonic Screwdriver. She liked it when he called her brilliant.
It had been the stumble when he rose that made the lump rise in her throat.
The Doctor had hung on and she used all the strength in her small frame to help stand them both up. He bumped against the wall stiff with pain, and it was all because of her hasty plan.
She swallowed hard. If he had tried to take down both guards, one might have set off the alarm, and Sarah Jane would not have been able to make her escape. How long would he have let them beat him to let her get far enough away? That is what wrenched the tears from her, though she didn't like the Doctor to see her cry. She was a grown woman of 21 years.
On his feet now, he looked down at her and brushed a tear from her cheek.
"A tear, Sarah Jane? No, don't cry. While there's life, there's hope." he said to her, and she was a teenager again, remembering the time he had said that first sentence to her before as he lay dying. She knew everything was going to be alright, no matter how dire this moment. Something settled into place, warm and familiar. He really did remember her, them, together. All of it, it seemed. She gave him her very best brave face.
"And I must be alive," he tried to joke. "I'd hate to think death hurts so much."
Supported him as they headed awkwardly for the cell door, navigating over the large, prone guards.
"Which way is out of here? We're not quite free yet, we are still in a cell block, Doctor." She asked, looking up and down the hallway, She grit her teeth in empathy of his pain, And is his reference. She never wanted to have to imagine a Universe without the Doctor. She refused the idea in her mind that someday, the Doctor might die a forever death.
He smelled of oak and cinnamon, and ozone with a hint of fire just like he always did, now with a twist of leather and very upscale hair product. She would have missed him so much that moment if she hadn't been holding on to him right then.
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Post by The First Doctor on Sept 25, 2011 21:00:16 GMT -5
"Well, me too for a second, but I'm fine, you saw to that, didn't you by not fighting back? You could have taken them, Hooligan." She said this, quite straight faced, with only a quirk of eyebrow.
"Probably," he agreed. "But you needed time, and... well, I wasn't expecting them to be quite so enthusiastic."
Then her lip trembled. "I'm sorry I'm late. Doctor I'm so sorry." Her deep worry for him clear in the sadness of her mouth, her hand dropping away from his face.
"'I'm so sorry,'" he echoed, the ghost of a grin on his lips. "Mind if I borrow that? It's the sort of line that could come in handy some day."
Supported him as they headed awkwardly for the cell door, navigating over the large, prone guards.
"Which way is out of here? We're not quite free yet, we are still in a cell block, Doctor." She asked, looking up and down the hallway.
"Well," the Doctor said, half-turning his whole body to look left and right. "They brought is in from there," he pointed with his right hand, "so we probably want to go that way." He pointed left.
"After all, we've already seen what's off to the right? Go look at something new, that's my motto."
He limped a few paces, trying not to lean too hard for support. "Well, that and 'when in doubt, bluff hard'."
A few more limping paces. "I think I'll add 'plans in which you get beaten are bad plans' as well."
By the end of the corridor, he was walking more or less on his own. A trifle unsteadily, to be sure, but walking. Oh, and wincing. But, again, on his own. "Don't worry," he tried to reassure Sarah, "I used to get beaten up worse than that practicing venyusankido."
At the end of the corridor, he peered carefully around the corner. There was a door, marked "S-2 Operations."
He grinned as he looked at Sarah. "That looks important, interesting, and off limits."
A pause. "It would, of course, be utterly foolish to have a look."
A pause. "Batty, even."
A pause. "Shall we, then?"
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Post by Sarah Jane on Sept 25, 2011 22:12:40 GMT -5
"I'm lucky that one of your mottoes seems to be 'one more chance' " She said, grinning wryly. "I can't believe I didn't think about how in cultures they subjugate women, they also beat their prisoners as a matter of course. I'm adding this to my list of bad plans.." She said softly as they limped down the corridor. She was set on getting him out of there as fast as possible and finding a way back up the dune and to the TARDIS before he keeled over.
"I think I'll add 'plans in which you get beaten are bad plans' as well."
To her surprise, he seemed to be doing a little better step by step and even stopped leaning on her.
"We should get you back to the TARDIS don't you think? It's not like we're in a hurry."
"Don't worry, I used to get beaten up worse than that practicing venyusankido." He said with unrealistic pep that she would accept for now, but at the first sign of him flagging, she was going to call a halt to this. The door around the corner was hard to miss, though she had hoped to drag him past it before he could think much about it. Good luck. They were not moving that fast.
"S-2 Operations." He grinned as he looked at Sarah. "That looks important, interesting, and off limits."
"It does, doesn't it?" She agreed studying him. He was wincing and bleeding but not half so pale under the bruising as he'd seemed a moment ago. She wondered if his body could stand up to his brain's curiosity. Perhaps the brains won though, combined with her own curious brains.
"It would, of course, be utterly foolish to have a look."
"Utterly." She agreed, and bit her lip, staring a moment at the door as if she could see right through it, such was the depth of her curiosity, hence her reluctance to drag the Doctor away.
"Batty, even."
"That's more of a trait than a motto, Doctor, but if the shoe fits . . . ." She looked around, hoping some guard would hurry them along, or an alarm would go off or something.
"Shall we, then?" He already had his Sonic Screwdriver out. Maybe she should have hidden it. She nodded sharply at him.
"Yes." and she slipped inside as he opened the door.
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From one of her pockets, she pulled the small flashlight that she had also taken out of the lock box and switched it on. It cast a wide warm beam into the room about the size of the main room in her old studio apartment. There were row literally upon row of lined cages. They were a bit bigger than rabbit cages, similar to an airplane crate for a large breed of dog. They were mostly some sort of clear stuff and new looking, each with padding on the bottom with food and water dispensers. Perhaps a heater. Some sort of read out. They looked too nice for puppy crates. Animal crates. They almost seemed hospital like. She put a hand to one. It was warm.
"It looks like whatever they're picking up from the Bane genetics's lab, it's alive." She asked in a hushed voice. "And they breath the same air as us." She noted the small holes in the tops and sides.
She wondered if these blue folks got television shows from She bet they hadn't seen
"The Trouble with Tribbles" on Star Trek.
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Post by The First Doctor on Sept 26, 2011 20:48:23 GMT -5
"It looks like whatever they're picking up from the Bane genetics's lab, it's alive." She asked in a hushed voice. "And they breath the same air as us." She noted the small holes in the tops and sides.
"Good eye," the Doctor observed, eying the crates. "Looks like they're designed for an animal between 10 and 20 pounds, too. I wonder what they're actually getting..."
He picked up a label - possibly a shipping manifest - and glanced at it. Then he did a double-take, darted a quick, furtive glance at Sarah, and hurriedly put it down.
"Ah," he said, a little quickly. "I think that, perhaps, we should get out of here. We've a Bane biolab to visit still."
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Post by Sarah Jane on Sept 26, 2011 21:21:53 GMT -5
She did not notice the Doctor's reaction to whatever he had read. However, she did pin him with her flashlight now. Places he looked like he should still be bleeding were perhaps oozing sluggishly, but not dripping as he'd been a moment ago. There was still pain in his eyes, but not so much in his voice. For the moment, he was coping.
"Right. Right." She said softly and went for the door, letting them both out and closing it behind her. She followed the Doctor, close on his heels, hoping they can slip out without more excitement. At least they had some answers, but she still had no idea what the question was. She wasn't certain she wanted to know. Whatever would make the Doctor bend the rules of time so to come find her now? Why would he need her for this? She wiped the back of her hand across her mouth, feeling drying blood sticky there.
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Post by The First Doctor on Sept 27, 2011 20:40:14 GMT -5
"I wish I knew who these people are," the Doctor was muttering, trying to take in as many details as he could. "I mean, I know I don't know everything, although you'll never hear me admit it." A pause. "Except maybe right now. But that's beside the point. The point is that I can't place the blue-skinned species. And that bothers me. Because I feel like I should be able to."
They passed through choke points and air brakes, moving seemingly at random, so far managing to avoid any patrols. That had been difficult, since their escape had kicked up a hornet's nest of activity.
For the last few few minutes their path had been determined for them. There was a patrol behind them, and no good secondary hallways. For better or worse they had to keep moving, fast enough to keep from being seen by the guards. The Doctor was doing better, but it was obvious that the pace was painful.
"Brave heart, Sarah," he was saying as they hit the end of the corridor. "Something's bound to turn... up..."
Through the doors - handily opened by judicious application of the sonic screwdriver - was what appeared to be a cargo bay or storeroom. Crates and sacks were stacked on shelves and racks, filling the large room to the point that it seemed almost crowded.
"This looks promising," he observed. "Bound to be a place to hide here, if nothing else."
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Post by Sarah Jane on Sept 27, 2011 23:19:41 GMT -5
They had not been spotted, but they'd been one step ahead of those that sought them from the moment they left S-2 Operations. She and the Doctor ran through the corridors at a good clip, taking narrow access passages when the found them, ducking here and there, staying close together without words. It was a familiar dance.
"Maybe you don't recognize the blue ones-" She whispered to him where they crammed in a niche together, waiting for footsteps to become more distant, both catching their breath " - because your genetic engineer friends, 'The Bane', whipped them up with the biscuits. Maybe those empty cages tiny blue - " She started to speculate, but then then they were off again, running down the corridor.
At some point the Doctor's lead began to falter. The damage done him was taking it's toll, but there was no time to rest while they were being sought from all directions. Sarah Jane took his hand and pulled him along at greater speed as the group coming down the left corridor came close. Soon she tucked under his arm, and wrapped her own arm around his lean waist.
"Brave heart, Sarah," he was saying as they hit the end of the corridor. "Somethings bound to turn... up..."
And something would. She was starting to understand the layout of the place It was so round, there was bound to be room for a large triangle space just ahead. There were doors. They headed for them together, the Doctor's weight getting heavy on her shoulder her hand was sticky with his blood.
"In here. Get it open."
She could hear a patrol behind them, coming closer to the corner they had taken.
"Hurry."
They slipped in just in time. She walked him over to a somewhat innocuous looking crate and helped him down, wanting him to sit down for a while. His color was not good. He started talking too loud.
"Shh--" She held a hand out to him, fingers splayed and begging silence. She watched the door, cocked her head listening. No, they were going by, not down this hall. She turned to him grinning. "Yeah, a good place to hide and for you to rest. I'll look around. Are you going to be all right?" She looked at the sticky patches of blood on her hand and back to his weary face.
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Post by The First Doctor on Sept 28, 2011 13:22:00 GMT -5
They slipped in just in time. She walked him over to a somewhat innocuous looking crate and helped him down, wanting him to sit down for a while. His color was not good. He started talking too loud.
"Shh--" She held a hand out to him, fingers splayed and begging silence. She watched the door, cocked her head listening. No, they were going by, not down this hall. She turned to him grinning. "Yeah, a good place to hide and for you to rest. I'll look around. Are you going to be all right?" She looked at the sticky patches of blood on her hand and back to his weary face.
He grinned back, trying to look confident. "Yeah, I'll be fine." He tried to laugh, and winced as his ribs twinged. "Isn't that supposed to be my line, anyway?"
Still, he didn't argue too much as she stood up to look around. Instead, he offered her the screwdriver. "Here, take it. Just don't lose it, all right?" A wan smile. "And you be careful. No unnecessary risks."
He settled back with a sigh, and eyed the crates. "I'll be right here when you get back."
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Post by Sarah Jane on Oct 1, 2011 20:42:57 GMT -5
She did not even need to ask him what to look for. She'd learned to recognize trouble when she saw it. She stood there close beside him. She grinned down at him, holding his hand as the Sonic Screwdriver passed between them. "You're a big pain in my arse, Doctor, and you'd better be here when I get back." Her voice, thick with appreciation, was at complete odds with her harsh words. She had come to understand that he was here because she needed help in the future. Here he was, looping time in a tight knot to help her out of a tight spot like a man with a rope when she was falling. Someday. "Thank you Doctor" she said for the boon of the Sonic and all the rest. For now she let go his hand with utter confidence in him. She also felt waves of worry, but this chance was too perfect not to take it. "I'll be careful." She meant about everything, the Sonic, the exploration. Then she was off into the dark to get a quick vision of the place. It was big as a skating rink. Neat boxes of mixed materials were neatly stacked. There was little information on them, mostly numbers. A letter, a number. There was a odd smell back this way. She wound deeper into the darkness letting her little light lead her back deeper, looking for another way out. It was the first thing she should look for as she gave a quick survey around her. There were isles. One led back toward the wall. She took it. It led to another door.
S-1 Enviro Sarah Jane fumbled with the Sonic only a little while before getting it open, it wasn't really a lock, just an electronic latch of sorts. Here was a small room of readouts and pipes and a large bank of windows.. In the next room, there was something pink. Flat A flat pinkish pale table. Not really pink. Flesh. Human. Stunned, she went to the inner door to see better, her blood ringing in her ears. As she came to the table, she saw it was indeed a vast table of flesh, a very human looking jaw, mouth, and nose protruding from one corner of the table. Feminine looking. It had even white teeth, nicely formed lips, and a delicate nose. As she stepped closer to that abbreviated projection of a human face, it suddenly screwed up it's features and sniffed at her. She squeaked a little A voice came out of it. A woman's voice. "Give me your soiled clothing. Give me your soiled clothing. give me your soiled clothing. Give me your soiled clothing. Give me your soiled clothing. " On the side of the table, which was really some sort of life support, there was a sign. SJ - Batch 1 Trembling, she took off her pale silk scarf and threw it at the table. It was swallowed by something that did not look like a mouth, a large inlet in the middle of the table, near invisible until it moved, then horrifying. Gritting her teeth, she went forward, then dug the end of her thumbnail into it. Hard. Nothing happened at all. "Give me your soiled clothing. Give me your soiled clothing." it said again, numbly. She ran back to the Doctor. Ran, that is as soon as she could stop stumbling backward in horror and revelation as she recognized a universal smell. Soap and water. The churning sound. It was a washing machine of sorts. She came to him, running, near silent. She leaped over his legs and plunked to sit down right beside him, clearly shocky. Then she schooled herself. Braced herself. It wasn't the Doctor's fault. She looked at him. "There's a thing back there. A thing made of skin that talks. What does 'SJ - Batch 1' mean to you. Doctor?" If the Doctor had heard that warm but increasingly insistent voice asking for soiled clothing. It was Sarah Jane's voice, though she had not recognized it. Of all the DNA in the Bane files, clearly Sarah Jane Smith had the best mouth and voice they'd sampled. Quite compelling. Pleasant. Though Sarah Jane half suspected, she would not let herself think about it until she was side by side with her friend. |
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Post by The First Doctor on Oct 1, 2011 21:41:14 GMT -5
She grinned down at him, holding his hand as the Sonic Screwdriver passed between them. "You're a big pain in my arse, Doctor, and you'd better be here when I get back."
"Of course I am," he agreed, grinning a lopsided grin and squeezing her hand once. "That's actually in my job description. I majored in 'big pain in the arse' back in the Academy."
"Thank you Doctor" she said for the boon of the Sonic and all the rest. "I'll be careful."
"Of course you will," he agreed again. "Of course you will."
He watched her slip away, smiling. Of course she will, he thought. Trained her myself, I did. And I'm always careful. He stretched, winced at the pulling of sore muscles, and settled himself a little more comfortably against the crate.
A minute passed.
He fidgeted, twisted a little where he sat, and settled back down.
Another minute passed.
He drummed his fingers on the crate, and looked around.
Another minute passed.
Tuneless whistling joined the drumming. He was starting to fidget more.
Another minute passed.
A thought struck him. "I wonder what's in this crate?" He half-turned to get a better look at it, then decided against it. Too much risk of making noise.
Another minute passed.
He pounded on the back of Swiss Army Knife, forcing the blade into one of the cracks in the crate. The pads of his palm ached something fierce by the time he was finished, but he drove it in. Then he set to work, levering the crate open.
Eight minutes passed.
Swiss Army Knives are not good crowbars. But, with some effort, he'd cracked the crate open.
Two minutes passed.
Having recovered his breath, he set to work examining the contents. They were bags, each about the size of five pound sack of flour, containing a baby blue powder. There was something familiar about that powder, too.
Carefully, carefully, he cut a tiny slit in one bag and scooped out a tiny amount of the powder, dumping it onto the mirrored side of his yo-yo. Then, using the blade, he cut and separated tiny pile until he had just a few grains left. Those few grains he lifted with the tweezers from the knife.
Cautiously, as if he were handling explosives, he tasted the grains. For a few seconds, the world fell away.
He was sitting in the throne of the Lord President, holding the hand of the Archivist. He squeezed her hand reassuringly as they listened to the report of the Lord Castellan, telling how the might of Gallifrey had overwhelmed the Daleks. Their scourge was gone from the universe forever.
A small figure burst from the assembled Time Lords, pursued by her mother. "Great-grandpa!" she squealed, racing up the dais and jumping into his lap, "You made the monsters go away!"
"Of course he did, Kenzi," the Archivist said, stroking their great-granddaughter's hair. "That's what he does..."
With a cry, he threw himself away from the box and crawled backwards until he slammed into the opposite wall. He could feel his hearts pounding a mile a minute, feel the tears trailing down his cheeks. It took every erg of willpower he had not to dive back into the powder, loose himself in the hallucinations.
"Thionite," he whispered. "They're dealing thionite." He shuddered, digging his fingernails into his palms, using the pain to fight the temptation. "We are in deadly danger."
Then he heard running. In the background, he could hear a familiar voice repeating "Give me your soiled clothing," in an empty monotone.
She came to him, running, near silent. She leaped over his legs and plunked to sit down right beside him, clearly shocky. Then she schooled herself. Braced herself. It wasn't the Doctor's fault. She looked at him.
"There's a thing back there. A thing made of skin that talks. What does 'SJ - Batch 1' mean to you. Doctor?"
"Yes," the Doctor answered, his voice shaky. "It means that there is far more to this than just the Bane." He stared at the open crate, shuddering. "And we have to stop it."
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Post by Sarah Jane on Oct 1, 2011 22:29:01 GMT -5
The look in his face when she finally caught his gaze made her own experience seem fairly unimportant in the moment. There was something so very naked in his eyes. His face was streaked with tears. His mouth was a portrait of want as she had never seen.
"What is it, Doctor?" She frowned, followed his needy gaze, saw the open crate, the bag within.
She flowed to her feet and took a step nearer to it, now she could just see where the bag had been nicked, a dark hint of blue within visible from the small slit. The Doctor wanted a closer look at what was in there. She would fetch it for him.
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Post by The First Doctor on Oct 2, 2011 14:31:12 GMT -5
The Doctor watched as Sarah looked at the crate. With a thrill of horror, he realized she was stepping towards it. What happened next was the hardest thing he'd ever done.
Not exploding into action, leaping to his feet despite his various aches and pains and bruises. That was trivial - he'd done that sort of thing off and on for centuries.
Not screaming "Sarah! No!" as he grabbed her by the shoulders, hauling her back and away from the crate.
No, the hardest thing he'd ever done - ever - was stand there, staring at the innocent-looking powder in the box, and then turning his back on it.
Gritting his teeth, ignoring the siren call of a phantom happiness - wife, family, a home - he blindly pushed Sarah back across the room until he felt her bump into the bulkhead. "It's a drug," he said, willing himself not to look back at it, "the most addictive drug I've ever heard of."
He took a deep breath, trying not to remember how real it had felt. "Don't... don't go near it." He shook, violently, for a moment. Then he did what he always did - shoved the pain away, back down into the depths of his mind - and smiled a smile that was convincing and genuine in appearance.
"So," he said, "That was my wait. How was your trip? I heard you mention something about a thing made out of skin that wants to do the laundry."
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Post by Sarah Jane on Oct 2, 2011 22:07:04 GMT -5
Curious, she was reaching for the hole in the bag when the Doctor shouted at her and was suddenly there pulling her away from it, then pushing her ahead of him until they were both pressed against the opposite bulkhead with not a violent, but certainly an irresistible, strength.
"It's a drug, the most addictive drug I've ever heard of."
His voice was ragged in her ear, words as frightening as his manor as he held them both tight to the wall. He was having one of his spells, as she thought of it. Now and then, the Doctor went around the bend.
"Don't... don't go near it." His muscles were like a trembling cage around her.
"I won't, Doctor, I promise! I didn't touch it, I swear!" She said quite truthfully, and with quite a bit of verve until his grip eased up. She turned to face him. It was a beautiful face. It was a terrible, wild face. It was, still, none other than her friend.
"So," he said, still well into his crazy, "That was my wait. How was your trip? I heard you mention something about a thing made out of skin that wants to do the laundry."
"Lets get you out of here." She took his hand and started toward the isle that led to the room that led to the strange, domestic horror within. "Come on. I'll show you."
Had he taken some of that drug? What made his eyes so sad, so crazed? She lead him down the isle, flashlight on beam. She wanted to ask, but also wanted to avoid taking the Doctor's mind back to what had just happened to him, whatever it was. She would ask again later when they were not so close to that darn crate. She had seen his desire, and doubted she could stop him if he chose to go back for it.Whatever it was that had happened to the Doctor, she didn't want it to happen to any one else.
"Doctor, I don't think we should let this spaceship take off."
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