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Triggers for physical/sexual abuse.
Chapter Nine: Reflection
The Master crawled out from the clothes, turning to face me with furious eyes.
Current Amy reached down to take Child Amy’s hand, beginning to glow. We stood on the sidewalk where we all met before, and Teenaged Amy stood in the wake of the glow. She leaned close to Rory and said, “Remind me not to touch that one,” and pointed to her middle aged counterpart.
“Any plans, Doctor?” Donna Noble asked, sidling up to the group.
I shook my head at her. “My last plan worked especially well,” I murmured, “but time is too distorted for a plan to be of any effect.”
“What?” Rose said, frowning at me.
“Spontaneous molecular combustion,” I repeated, rubbing my forehead. I had no idea what to do.
“No way,” I breathed, staring into space. Rose?
“Doctor?” I raised a finger to River, shushing her.
Doctor, what happened? Everyone just vanished.
It’s okay. Well, it’s not okay, but—
You’re rambling, she reminded, a smile in her voice.
Right, I said. Rose, time is confused. It’s as if we never came to Downing Street.
But I remember—and so does the Master.
That’s not good, I grumbled. The only ones who remember are the Time Lords and the girl who absorbed the Time Vortex, then.
No, she corrected, the girl who is connected to a Time Lord’s mind.
I began to pace, but stopped when I faced a wall, pressing my forehead against it and closing my eyes. The traditional rescue isn’t going to work.
We have to find a way to seal the paradoxes at its source, she told me.
There’s too many sources, and at the same time, there’s no source at all.
You’re only thinking like that because you’re stressed out. Focus, Doctor. For me.
I can’t Rose. The space-time continuum is too damaged.
Think, Doctor. What caused all of this?
The Master. My duplicate, I said impatiently. That doesn’t help at all.
It does, she said. I can see your thoughts more clearly than you right now.
I perked up as she showed me my own mind, through her eyes. I pushed away from the wall, turning a grin on the companion doppelgangers. “We have to get to the TARDIS. Martha, don’t try to use that screwdriver trick on the Master this time—he’ll be ready for it. Let’s go!”
Again, I grabbed Rose before the Bay’s hand and started running up the sidewalk. Again, Jack jogged up alongside me.
“Where are we going?” he asked.
“10 Downing Street.”
“And why are we—?”
“Oh, let’s not repeat this for a third time,” I prayed, laughing.
The sky turned dark and I saw planets in the sky.
“What is that?” Rose asked, staring up at the sky and stumbling slightly.
This is the timeline where the Earth was stolen, Rose said, seeing through my eyes.
This is getting out of hand.
A familiar sound slowed us all to a standstill. The TARDIS faded into existence. The doors opened but, instead of my duplicate, a stone statue stood in the doorway.
“Wonderful,” I grunted.
“Doctor,” Rory began nervously, “why is there a weeping angel in the TARDIS?”
“Keep your eyes on it,” I instructed, releasing Rose’s hand. I moved toward it, ducking down and looking into the control room. Weeping angels stood all around, every one of them holding their heads in their hands.
I moved back, running my fingers through my hair, and watched River approach the angel.
“Doctor, if I touch it…”
“River,” I warned, grabbing her wrist. She smiled at me, then glanced over her shoulder. I turned to see River standing beside Mel.
“I’m the River that will be,” she told me. The River after you go up in the TARDIS and reboot the universe.” I opened my mouth and she shook her head very slowly. “Spoilers.”
She reached out and grasped the statues hand, concentrating. “I did this once before and felt what the angel felt. This time, the angel seems…” She furrowed her eyebrow.
“River? It seems like what?”
She shook her head, turning to me with uncertainty in her eyes. “I can’t be sure, but it seems like they’re on your side.”
Doctor? Rose’s voice called loudly in my mind. I pressed two fingers to my forehead, wincing.
Inside voice, I whined.
Sorry, she said, softer. But something’s happened. Your duplicate was attacked.
Attacked? Attacked how? I demanded, feeling a surge of excitement.
The angels. He was talking to the Master while aboard the TARDIS and the transmission cut out. We haven’t heard anything from him since.
A muffled shout from within the TARDIS drew my attention and I turned to River. “Stay here. All of you,” I said, surveying the small crowd behind me.
“Exterminate! Exterminate! Exterm—!” Daleks began to descend from the sky.
“Right, then, change of plans. Everyone into the angel-infested TARDIS.”
We all piled in, carefully, and I started toward the control panel when I heard the sound again.
“Doctor?” Jack said, sounding confused. “You might wanna take a look at this.”
I glanced up and saw that all the angels formed a disorganized but distinct line into a corridor of the TARDIS. “Well, this is new,” I said, straightening my bowtie.
“What are they doing?” Martha asked, scanning the long line uncomprehendingly.
“They’re a trail of breadcrumbs,” I said, clearing the steps down from the panel with eagerness. “A weeping angel cannot feast on confused time—they’re starving.”
“So, you’re saying that they can’t hurt us?” Rose said, frowning at me.
I raised my eyebrows at her, growing serious. “Oh, yes. They can still hurt us.” I patted one on the shoulder as I passed it. “But they won’t. They need us to fix the spacetime continuum to preserve their food source.”
I walked down the corridor, following the trail of angels, and noticed the entire crew following close behind. Facing forward, I allowed myself a grin. An entire group of companions. A gang, of sorts. I never had a gang before.
Doctor? Doctor, the Master is moving me. He found the TARDIS.
I laughed out loud, jumping up and down once. Jack, just behind me, lifted a skeptical eyebrow. “The Master is here. Quickly, this way.” I started running down the corridor. “Angels, leave the control room!” I called, then, as an afterthought, “Please!”
When you get here, Rose, move into the first corridor on your left and hide behind the statues, do you understand?
No, but okay, she said. I sensed her fear. It prickled over every inch of my body.
I sent her a wave of warmth and comfort, directly from my hearts. It’s going to be all right. I’ve got you.
We arrived at the end of the angel trail to find…
“John Smith,” I said, chuckling at the stone hand that covered his mouth. He wriggled, holding a mirror in one hand to stare at the angel that held him. He glanced up at me, but then back to the mirror.
The corridor was narrow enough that any angels who tried to approach from the front would be forced to face the angel that held John. That explained why he remained alive.
“I really want to check my reflection,” I told him dangerously. He scowled at me, eyes returning to the mirror again.