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thedoctorcried · 3 years

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Runaway - Part Eighteen

~Masterlist~

Concept: Hazel Richards is a twenty-year-old woman living in London. When she meets a mysterious time-travelling alien known only as the Hunter, she’s thrust into a world of wonder she could only have imagined.

Warnings: swearing, follows S1 of Doctor Who.

"You know the Hunter," the nearest Dalek to Hazel stated, swivelling to face her. "You understand her. You will predict her actions."

"I don't know," Hazel told it. "And even if I did, I wouldn't tell you."

"Predict! Predict! Predict!" the Dalek ordered.

"TARDIS detected in flight."

"Launch missiles. Exterminate!"

"You can't!" Hazel protested, her eyes widening. "The TARDIS hasn't got any defences. You're going to kill her!"

The Dalek looked at her. "You have predicted correctly."

***

"We've got incoming!" Jack announced, seeing the missiles on the monitor. They struck the TARDIS, but inside, they felt little more than a minor jolt. He grinned. "The extrapolator's working. We've got a fully functional forcefield. Try saying that when you're drunk."

The Hunter smiled at him from across the console. "And for my next trick." She materialised the TARDIS around Hazel, trying not to get any Daleks too. As it was, only one was in the TARDIS. "Haze, get down! Get down, Haze!"

Hazel hit the deck, and the Dalek's head and body swivelled round to look at the Hunter. "Exterminate!" She ducked, making it miss, and Jack took it out with his Defabricator.

"You did it," Hazel breathed, hugging the Hunter tightly. "Feels like I haven't seen you in years."

"I told you I'd come and get you," the Hunter reminded her.

"Never doubted it," Hazel smiled.

"I did," the Hunter admitted, pulling back to look her over. "You all right?"

"Yeah," she nodded. "You?"

The Hunter blew out a breath shakily. "Been better."

"Hey, don't I get a hug?" Jack complained.

Hazel grinned. "Oh, come here!"

"I was talking to her," Jack joked, but hugged her. "Welcome home, Jules."

"Oh, I thought I'd never see you again," Hazel sighed, grinning.

Jack scoffed. "Oh, you were lucky. That was just a one shot wonder. Drained the gun of all its power supply. Now it's just a piece of junk." He tossed the Defabricator aside, and they went over to the Hunter, who was watching the smoking remains of the Dalek wistfully.

"You said they were extinct," Hazel said, putting her hand on her arm. "How comes they're still alive?"

"One minute they're the greatest threat in the universe, the next minute they vanished out of time and space," Jack added.

"They went off to fight a bigger war," the Hunter told him. "The Time War."

Jack's eyes widened. "I thought that was just a legend."

The Hunter shook her head, putting her hand over Hazel's. "I was there. The war between the Daleks and the Time Lords, with the whole of creation at stake. My people were destroyed, but they took the Daleks with them. I almost thought it was worth it. Now it turns out they died for nothing."

Hazel bit her lip. "There's thousands of them now. We could hardly stop one. What're we going to do?"

There was a long pause in which none of them said a word. Hazel and Jack were waiting for the Hunter to think of something, hoping she could save them. The Hunter was watching them with wide eyes, wondering how these two beautiful, brilliant humans were so prepared to fight a losing battle with her. Barely a year ago, Hazel had been a normal human girl, living with a man who wasn't even really her brother. Not six months ago, Jack had been a coward, a conman, a crook. And now the pair of them were stepping up to try and save the world, maybe even the universe, against a race of creatures thriving on hate and murder. It was a losing battle, but there was no one else she'd rather fight it with. If only Apollo were there to make it even better.

She took a deep breath, then grinned at them. "No good stood round here chin-wagging. Human race, you'd gossip all day. The Daleks have got the answers. Let's go and meet the neighbours."

Hazel's eyes widened as the Hunter headed for the door. "You can't go out there!"

"Exterminate! Exterminate! Exterminate!"

The Hunter stepped out of the TARDIS, rolling her eyes as the Dalek rays were stopped by the extrapolator forcefield. "Seriously? Is that it? Useless! Nul points." She turned around and beckoned Hazel and Jack out. "It's all right, come on out. That forcefield can hold back anything."

"Almost anything," Jack corrected, then winced at the look the Hunter shot him.

"Gee, Jack, I wonder what it was I wasn't going to tell them? Oh, wait."

He smiled sheepishly. "Sorry."

She rolled her eyes, turning back to the Daleks. "Do you know what they call me in the ancient legends of the Dalek Homeworld? The Bringer of Darkness. You might've removed all your emotions but I reckon right down deep in your DNA, there's one little spark left, and that's fear. Doesn't it just burn when you face me? So tell me. How did you survive the Time War?"

"They survived through me." The lights came on to reveal a giant opened Dalek casing, the inner one-eyed mutant sitting as if on its throne.

"Haze, Captain, this is the Emperor of the Daleks," the Hunter introduced, her eyes widening ever so slightly.

"You destroyed us, Hunter. The Dalek race died in your inferno, but my ship survived, falling through time, crippled but alive," the Emperor stated.

"I get it," the Hunter nodded.

"Do not interrupt."

The Hunter raised an eyebrow. "I think you're forgetting something. I'm the Hunter, and if there's one thing I can do, it's talk. I've got five billion languages, and you haven't got one way of stopping me. So if anybody here's going to be shutting up, it's you!" She smirked as the Daleks backed away. "So, where were we?"

"We waited here in the dark space, damaged but rebuilding," the Emperor explained. "Centuries passed, and we quietly infiltrated the systems of Earth, harvesting the waste of humanity. The prisoners, the refugees, the dispossessed. They all came to us. The bodies were filtered, pulped, sifted. The seed of the human race is perverted. Only one cell in a billion was fit to be nurtured."

"So you created an army of Daleks out of the dead," the Hunter realised, disgusted.

"That makes them half human," Hazel pointed out.

"Those words are blasphemy!" the Emperor decreed.

"Do not blaspheme."

"Everything human has been purged. I cultivated pure and blessed Dalek," the Emperor stated.

The Hunter frowned. "Since when did the Daleks have a concept of blasphemy?"

"I reached into the dirt and made new life. I am the God of all Daleks!"

"Worship him."

"They're insane," the Hunter realised. "Hiding in silence for hundreds of years, that's enough to drive anyone mad. But it's worse than that. Driven mad by your own flesh. The stink of humanity. You hate your own existence. And that makes them more deadly than ever. We're going."

"You may not leave my presence," the Emperor forbade.

"Toodle-oo!" the Hunter waved, then shut the door behind her, Hazel, and Jack. She leant her forehead against the door for a long moment, sighing. She looked down as a hand slipped into hers, and managed a smile, squeezing gently.

***

"Turn everything up!" the Hunter ordered as soon as she exited the TARDIS on Floor Five Hundred. "All transmitters full power, wide open. Now! Do it!"

"What does this do?" Pavale asked, even as he did as told.

"Stops the Daleks from transmatting on board," the Hunter replied. "How did you get on? Did you contact Earth?"

Pavale bit his lip. "Well, we tried to warn them, but all they did was suspend our license because we stopped the programmes."

The Hunter sighed. "And the planet's just sitting there, defenceless." She blinked, seeing a familiar blonde working at a console to up the transmitters. "Lynda, what're you still doing on board? I told you to evacuate everyone."

"She wouldn't go," Pavale muttered.

Lynda blushed. "Didn't want to leave you."

Another woman scoffed. "There weren't enough shuttles anyway, or I wouldn't be here. We've got about a hundred people stranded on Floor Zero."

Pavale blanched looking at his computer screen. "Oh my God. The Fleet is moving. They're on their way."

The Hunter sprung into action, talking as she started building something, pulling things out of the conduits to make it with. "Dalek plan. Big mistake, because what have they left me with? Anyone? Anyone? Oh, come on, it's obvious. A great big transmitter. This station. If I can change the signal, fold it back, sequence it, anyone?"

Jack's eyes widened. "You've got to be kidding."

"Give the man a medal!"

"A Delta Wave?" Jack asked.

The Hunter grinned. "A Delta Wave!"

Hazel frowned. "What's a Delta Wave?"

"A wave of Van Cassadyne energy," Jack replied. "It fries your brain. Stand in the way of a Delta Wave and your head gets barbequed."

"And this place can transmit a massive wave," the Hunter added. "Wipe out the Daleks!"

"Well, get started and do it then," Lynda encouraged.

The Hunter bit her lip. "Trouble is, wave this size, building this big, brain as clever as mine, should take about...ooh, three days? How long till the Fleet arrive?"

"Twenty two minutes," Pavale answered, blanching.

***

Jack stood up a while later after helping the Hunter to start building the basics of the Delta Wave. "We've now got a forcefield so they can't blast us out of the sky, but that doesn't stop the Daleks from physically invading."

"Do they know about the Delta Wave?" Pavale asked.

"They'll have worked it out at the same time," Jack confirmed. "So, they want to stop the Hunter. That means they've got to get to this level, Five Hundred. Now, I can concentrate the extrapolator around the top six levels, Five Hundred to Four Ninety Five. So they'll penetrate the station below that at level Four Ninety Four and fight their way up."

"Who are they fighting?" Pavale questioned, already knowing the answer.

"Us," Jack deadpanned.

Pavale sighed. "And what are we fighting with?"

"The guards had guns with bastic bullets," Jack replied. "That's enough to blow a Dalek wide open."

"There's five of us," one woman protested.

"Haze, you can help me," the Hunter requested hastily. "I need all these wires stripping bare."

The woman rolled her eyes. "Right, now there's four of us."

"Then let's move it," Jack ordered. "Into the lift. Isolate the lift controls." Pavale and his colleague ran off, leaving just Jack, Lynda, the Hunter, and Hazel.

"I just want to say, well, thanks, I suppose, and I'll do my best," Lynda said, shrugging.

"Me too," the Hunter agreed. They shook hands, and she went to the lifts.

Jack sighed, looking between them. "It's been fun, but I guess this is goodbye."

"Don't talk like that," Hazel told him. "Artie's going to do it. You just watch her."

He hugged her. "Jules, you are worth fighting for." He kissed her, making her roll her eyes. Then he moved onto the Hunter, who made an effort to smile. "Wish I'd never met you, Queenie. I was much better off as a coward." He kissed her, too. He laughed a little as he pulled back, seeing the way they were both looking at him, like they couldn't bear him to go. "See you in hell." He jogged off, knowing that if he stayed any longer, they'd persuade him not to go.

Hazel bit her lip. "He's going to be all right, isn't he?"

The Hunter sighed, watching him go. "I hope so."

***

Jack climbed up to stand on a pile of crates on Floor Zero, firing a machine gun into the air to get everyone's attention. "One last time! Any more volunteers? There's an army about to invade this station. I need every last citizen to mount a defence."

"Don't listen to him!" Rodrick shouted. "There aren't any Daleks. They disappeared thousands of years ago."

"Thanks," Jack nodded as one of the workers volunteered. "As for the rest of you, the Daleks will enter the station at Floor Four Ninety Four and as far as I can tell, they'll head up, not down. But that's not a promise. So here's a few words of advice. Keep quiet. And if you hear fighting up above, if you hear us dying, then tell me that the Daleks aren't real. Don't make a sound." He turned back to his team, jumping down off the box. "Let's go." They got into the lift.

***

"Suppose..." Hazel began, then shook her head, going back to the wires she was stripping.

"What?" the Hunter asked, making connections to build the wave.

"Nothing."

The Hunter glanced up at her. "You said suppose."

"No, I was just thinking," Hazel shrugged. "I mean, obviously you can't, but you've got a time machine. Why can't you just go back to last week and warn them?"

"As soon as the TARDIS lands in that second, I become part of events, stuck in the timeline," the Hunter explained.

Hazel nodded, sighing. "Yeah, thought it'd be something like that."

"There's another thing the TARDIS could do," the Hunter suggested. "She could take us away. We could leave. Let history take its course. We could go to Marbella in 1989."

"Yeah, but you'd never do that," Hazel pointed out.

"No, but you could ask." The Hunter smiled at Hazel's surpised expression, shaking her head. "Never even occurred to you, did it?"

"Well, I'm just too good," Hazel shrugged, grinning.

The Hunter looked up as a computer bleeped. "The Delta Wave's started building. How long does it need?" She ran over to the console, Hazel following, unable to make sense of what was on screen.

"Is that bad?" she asked, then caught sight of the Hunter's pale expression. "Okay, it's bad. How bad is it?"

"Hazel Norton, you're a genius!" the Hunter declared suddenly. "We can do it. If I use the TARDIS to cross my old timeline..." She pretended to think, then grinned. "Yes!" She ushered Hazel into the TARDIS and pointed to a lever. "Hold that down and keep it in position."

Hazel did so, grinning at her enthusiasm. "What's it do?"

"Cancels the buffers," the Hunter lied. "If I'm very clever - and I'm more than clever, I'm brilliant - I might just save the world." She paused. "Or rip it apart."

"I'd go for the first one," Hazel said, making a face.

"Me too," the Hunter admitted, grinning. "Now, I've just got to go and power up the Game Station. Hold on!" She ran out, and stopped, the doors swinging shut behind her. She buzzed her sonic screwdriver and the engines started.

"Art, what're you doing?" Hazel called from inside. "Can I take my hand off? It's moving." There was a banging on the door. "Artie, let me out! Let me out! Artie, what've you done?" The Hunter closed her eyes briefly as the TARDIS dematerialised. At least she was safe.

***

Inside, Hazel whipped around as she heard a familiar voice, only to curse when she saw the Hunter was just a hologram. "This is Emergency Programme One. Hazel, please, listen, this is important. If this message is activated, then it can only mean one thing. We must be in danger. And I mean fatal. I'm dead or about to die any second with no chance of escape."

"No!" Hazel cried.

"And that's okay," the Hunter smiled. "Hope it's a good death. But I promised to look after you, and that's what I'm doing. The TARDIS is taking you home."

"I won't let you!" Hazel started fiddling with the controls, to no effect.

"And I bet you're fussing and moaning now. I'm flattered, really, I am. But hold on and just listen a bit more. The TARDIS can never return for me. Emergency Programme One means I'm facing an enemy that should never get their hands on this machine. So this is what you should do. Let the TARDIS die. Just let this old box gather dust. No one can open her. No one'll even notice her. Let her become a strange little thing standing on a street corner. And over the years, the world'll move on, and the box will be buried. And if you want to remember me, then you can do one thing. That's all, just one thing." And the hologram suddenly turned so the Hunter was staring directly into Hazel's eyes, and the human girl saw something in her eyes stronger than anything she'd ever seen before. "Have a good life. Do that for me, Haze. Have a fantastic life." The hologram flickered out, and Hazel made a noise like a strangled cat.

"You can't do this to me!" she shrieked. "You can't! Take me back! Take me back!" She looked up as the engines stopped. "No!" She ran outside, only to see the Powell Estate, then ran back in. "Come on, fly! How do you fly? Come on, help me!" Eventually, she gave up and slumped against the outside of the box, tears pouring down her cheeks.

"I knew it!" Mike shouted, running up to her. "I was all the way down Clifton Parade, and I heard the engines. I thought, there's only one thing that makes a noise like that." He paused, noticing her distress. "What is it?"

She just buried her head in her arms, crying her heart out.

***

"Jules, I've called up the internal laser codes," Jack called through the comms system, making the Hunter look up from her work to the viewscreen he was on. "There should be a different number on every screen. Can you read them out to me?"

"She's not here," the Hunter told him.

Jack groaned. "Of all the times to take a leak. When she gets back, tell her to read me the codes."

"She's not coming back," the Hunter shook her head, looking away.

He frowned. "What do you mean? Where'd she go?"

"Just get on with your work," she ordered.

"You took her home, didn't you," he realised.

She nodded, meeting his eyes. "Yeah."

"The Delta Wave, is it ever going to be ready?" Jack asked.

The Dalek Emperor appeared on a second viewscreen. "Tell him the truth, Hunter. There is every possibility the Delta Wave could be complete, but no possibility of refining it. The Delta Wave must kill every living thing in its path, with no distinction between human and Dalek. All things will die by your hand."

"Queenie, the range of this transmitter covers the entire Earth," Jack warned.

"You would destroy Daleks and Humans together," the Emperor sneered. "If I am God, the creator of all things, then what does that make you, Hunter?"

She took a deep breath, steeling herself. "There are colonies out there. The Human Race would survive in some shape or form, but you're the only Daleks in existence. The whole universe is in danger if I let you live. Do you see, Jack? That's the decision I've got to make for every living thing. Die as a human, or live as a Dalek." She met his eyes. "What would you do?"

Jack hesitated for a moment, then nodded. "You sent her home. She's safe. Keep working."

"But she will exterminate you!" the Emperor exclaimed.

Jack smirked. "Never doubted her. Never will." He ended the transmission.

"Now you tell me, God of all Daleks, because there's one thing I never worked out," the Hunter admitted. "The words Bad Wolf, spread across time and space, everywhere, drawing me in. How'd you manage that?"

"I did nothing," the Emperor told her.

"Oh, come on, there's no secrets now, your worship," she goaded.

"They are not part of my design. This is the Truth of God," it stated.

The Hunter swallowed, moving her gaze to the Bad Wolf Corporation sign on the wall. What are you, Bad Wolf?

***

Jason and Mike were eating their meals out of the polystyrene containers they had been sold them in at a café, keeping Hazel company.

"And it's gone up market, this place," Jason was saying. "They're doing little tubs of coleslaw now." He made a face. "It's not very nice. It tastes a bit sort of clinical."

"Have you tried that new pizza place down Minto Road?" Mike suggested.

"What's it selling?" Jason asked, eyeing Hazel worriedly.

"Pizza," Mike deadpanned.

"That's nice," Jason nodded. "Do they deliver?"

"Yeah."

Jason sighed. "Oh, Haze, have something to eat, please."

She scowled, making no efforts to conceal the tear tracks on her face. "Two hundred thousand years in the future, she's dying, and there's nothing I can do."

"Well, like you said, two hundred thousand years," Jason shrugged. "It's a way off."

"But it's not," Hazel protested. "It's now. That fight is happening right now, and she's fighting for us, for the whole planet, and I'm just sitting here eating chips!"

Jason shook his head. "Listen to me. God knows I have hated that woman, but right now, I love her, and do you know why? Because she did the right thing. She sent you back to me."

"But what do I do every day, Jace? What do I do?" Hazel asked. "Get up, catch the bus, go to work, come back home, eat chips, and go to bed? Is that it?"

"It's what the rest of us do," Mike pointed out.

"But I can't!" she protested.

"Why, because you're better than us?" he raised his eyebrows.

"No, I didn't mean that," she said quickly. "But it was... It was a better life. And I don't mean all the travelling and seeing aliens and spaceships and things. That don't matter. Artie showed me a better way of living your life." She nudged Mike. "You know, she showed you too. That you don't just give up. You don't just let things happen. You make a stand. You say no. You have the guts to do what's right when everyone else just runs away, and I just can't -" She suddenly jumped to her feet and ran out of the café, tears brimming over.

***

"Right, Lynda, you are my eyes and ears," Jack stated, flashing a smile even though he knew she couldn't see him. "When the Daleks get in, you can follow it on that screen and report it to me."

"Understood," Lynda nodded.

"They'll detect you, but the door's made of Hydra Combination. It should keep them out," Jack told her.

"Should?" she echoed.

"It's the best I can do," he winced. "How long till the Fleet arrives?"

"They've accelerated," Pavale replied.

Jack bit his lip. "This is it, ladies and gentlemen. We are at war!"

***

"You can't spend the rest of your life thinking about the Hunter," Mike tried, sitting next to Hazel near the Powell Estate.

"But how do I forget her?" Hazel asked, sniffing.

"You've got to start living your own life," he advised. "You know, a proper life, like the kind she's never had. The sort of life that you could have with me."

Hazel looked away, shaking her head, then her eyes widened as she saw 'BAD WOLF' graffitied across the tarmac of the play area. "Over here," she whispered. "It's over here as well!"

"That's been there for years," Mike told her dismissively. "It's just a phrase. It's just words."

"I thought it was a warning," Hazel continued, ignoring him as she wiped her cheeks impatiently, a smile beginning to blossom on her face. "Maybe it's the opposite. Maybe it's a message. The same words written down now and two hundred thousand years in the future. It's a link between me and Artie. Bad Wolf here, Bad Wolf there."

Mike shook his head. "But if it's a message, what's it saying?"

"It's telling me I can get back," Hazel realised, starting to grin. "The least I can do is help her escape." She ran back into the TARDIS, Mike at her heels. "All the TARDIS needs to do is make a return trip. Just reverse."

"Yeah, but we still can't do it," Mike pointed out.

"Artie always said the TARDIS was telepathic. This ship is alive. She can listen," Hazel explained.

"Yeah, well, she's not listening now, is she?" Mike shrugged.

"We need to get inside," Hazel decided. "Last time I saw you, with the Slitheen, this middle bit opened and there was this light, and Artie said it was the heart of the TARDIS. If we can open it, I can make contact. I can tell her what to do."

"Hazel," Mike said quietly.

"Hmm?" She turned to look at him, raising her eyebrows expectantly.

"If you go back, you're going to die," he said.

She bit her lip. "That's a risk I've got to take, because there's nothing left for me here."

"Nothing?" Mike checked.

"Not without her," Hazel shook her head.

Mike was silent for a minute, then nodded. "Okay, if that's what you think, let's get this thing open."

***

"Okay, activate internal lasers," Jack ordered. "Slice them up."

"Defences have gone offline," Lynda reported. "The Dalek's have overridden the lot." She winced as she heard the firing of guns, then a woman screaming out in pain as she died.

***

Mike had fastened a heavy chain to the tow hitch on his Mini, with the other end attached to the TARDIS console. He drove forwards slowly, trying to pull it open.

"Faster!" Hazel encouraged.

"Come on!" Mike growled.

"It's not moving!" Hazel called. Suddenly, the chain snapped, and she kicked the console on frustration.

***

"Advance guard have made it to Four Ninety Five," Lynda reported.

"Jack, how're we doing?" the Hunter asked.

"Four Ninety Five should be good," Jack shrugged. "I like Four Ninety Five."

The Anne Droid destroyed a few Daleks, but then its head was shot off and it deactivated.

"They're flying up the ventilation shafts," Lynda stated, then gasped. "No, wait a minute. Oh my God. Why're they doing that? They're going down." She heard screams through the comms, and turned off the sound from the bottom floor. "Floor Zero," she whispered. "They killed them all."

***

"It was never going to work, sweetheart," Jason soothed, his arm around Hazel as she wept in the jump seat. "And the Hunter knew that. She just wanted you to be safe."

"I can't give up," Hazel wept.

"Lock to door," Jason urged. "Walk away."

"I can't!" Hazel insisted. "I... I think I love her."

Jason froze. "What do you mean?"

"She took me to see Mum and Dad, back before it all went to shit," Hazel told him. "And I - I couldn't deal with it and I just broke down, and - and she could have just left me alone, but she came and comforted me and held me till I fell asleep and I just realised - she's been doing it all along, looking after me, and I never recognised it or anything, but I just love her!" She sniffed, wiping her cheeks. "I can't just leave her there to die!"

"She was saving your life!"

"Why won't you let me save hers?!" Hazel shot back.

Jason looked at her, his eyes wide. "Because she and I have an agreement that you come first." He stormed out, leaving her staring after him.

***

"Lynda!" the Hunter called. "What's happening on Earth?"

"The Fleet's descending," Lynda replied. "They're bombing whole continents. Europa, Pacifica, the New American Alliance. Australasia's just gone."

***

Mike sighed, biting his lip as Hazel came out of the TARDIS, her face tearstained. "There's got to be something else we can do."

"Maybe Jace was right," Hazel sighed, wiping a hand over her face. "Maybe we should just lock the door and walk away."

"I'm not having that," Mike decided, shaking his head. "I'm not having you just, just give up now. No way. We just need something stronger than my car. Something bigger." He turned, and his eyes widened. "Something like that!" Hazel turned to follow his gaze, and they were both confronted with a big yellow recovery truck coming round the corner.

Jason got out, handing the keys over. "Right, you've only got this until six o'clock, so get on with it."

Hazel's eyes were the size of dinner plates. "Jace, where the hell did you get that from?"

"Rodrigo," her brother replied. "He owes me a favour. Never mind why, but you were right, sweetheart. You come first, always, and I'm not letting you suffer while she gets herself killed. Now, get on with it before I change my mind." Mickey climbed up into the cabin.

***

"I've got a problem," Lynda called, sounding scared. "They've found me."

"You'll be all right, Lynda," the Hunter assured her, biting her lip. "That side of the station's reinforced against meteors."

"Hope so!" Lynda chuckled. "You know what they say about Earth workmanship." Then there was the sound of glass shattering, and she screamed just once before the line went dead. The Hunter bowed her head.

"Last man standing!" Jack shouted, from just around the corner, making the Time Lady look up sharply. "For God's sake, Queenie, finish that thing and kill them!"

"Finish that thing and kill mankind," the Emperor countered.

***

"Keep going!" Hazel shouted from inside the TARDIS as she watched the chain strain against the console.

"Put your foot down!" Jason relayed from outdoors.

"Faster!"

"Give it some more, Mikey!"

"Keep going!"

"Come on, come on!"

"Keep going!"

"Give it some more!"

The console burst open, and Hazel looked into it, golden energy streaming into her eyes.

"Haze!" Mickey shouted, but she clicked her fingers, and the TARDIS doors slammed shut in his face. She smiled as the TARDIS began to dematerialise, piloting her thousands of years into the future to save the Hunter.

***

"Queenie, you've got twenty seconds maximum!" Jack shouted. He ran out of bullets in his machine gun, and threw it aside, switching to a pistol, which was also empty.

"Exterminate!" the Dalek pursuing him stated.

He rolled his eyes. "I kind of figured that." The blast threw him back into the lift, and Captain Jack Harkness died in the knowledge that they'd at least saved Hazel.

"It's ready!" the Hunter called, before the Daleks entered from all sides. Her blood ran cold as she got no answer, realising what must have happened. "You really want to think about this, because if I activate the signal, every living creature dies."

"I am immortal," the Emperor stated.

"Do you want to put that to the test?" the Hunter snarled, narrowing her eyes.

"I want to see you become like me," the Emperor countered. "Hail the Hunter, the Great Exterminator."

"I'll do it!" she threatened.

"Then prove yourself, Hunter," the Emperor challanged. "What are you, coward or killer?"

The Hunter tensed, her mind full of the names of everyone she knew who'd died today, Jack's name right at the top of that list, urging her to do it, to kill the Daleks once and for all. But then another name came into her mind - a pure name, full of memories of happiness and laughter, and love. Hazel. The Hunter remembered the shock in her eyes when she'd threatened to kill just one Dalek, and suddenly she found herself unable to throw the final lever, despite what the Daleks had done to everything she loved. "Coward," she whispered. "Any day."

The Emperor seemed pleased. "Mankind will be harvested because of your weakness."

"And what about me?" the Hunter asked dully. "Am I becoming one of your angels?"

"You are the heathen," the Emperor informed her. "You will be exterminated."

"Maybe it's time," the Hunter sighed, kneeling and closing her eyes. She could've sworn she could hear the TARDIS' engines, but it was probably just her memories.

"Alert!" a Dalek cried, and her eyes shot open. "TARDIS materialising."

The Hunter got to her feet as the ship landed, turning to see the doors open and reveal a bright golden light. A humanoid shape was silhouetted in the doorway, and as the light dimmed, the Hunter realised who it was. "What've you done?" she cried.

"I looked into the TARDIS, and the TARDIS looked into me," Hazel replied, her voice echoing unnaturally.

The Hunter's eyes widened. "You looked into the Time Vortex. Haze, no one's meant to see that!"

"This is the Abomination!" the Emperor declared.

"Exterminate!"

Hazel lifted a hand casually, and the beam shattered upon impact. "I am Bad Wolf. I create myself. I take the words; I scatter them in time and space. A message to lead myself here."

"Hazel, you've got to stop this," the Hunter pleaded. "You've got to stop this now. You've got the entire vortex running through your head. You're going to burn!"

Hazel looked at her, her eyes shining with loving tears. "I want you safe. My Artemis. Protected from the false god." Her voice caught.

"You cannot hurt me," the Emperor scoffed. "I am immortal."

"You are tiny," Hazel corrected. "I can see the whole of time and space. Every single atom of your existence, and I divide them." She lowered her hand, and a nearby Dalek disintegrated slowly. "Everything must come to dust. All things. Everything dies. The Time War ends."

The Daleks crumbled to the ground.

"I will not die!" the Emperor cried, even as he, too, disintegrated. "I cannot die!"

The Hunter watched with wide eyes as the entire spaceship turned to dust. "Haze, you've done it. Now stop. Just let go."

"How can I let go of this?" Hazel laughed - a soft, tinkling melody that sounded nothing like her usual giggle. "I bring life."

There was a loud gasp from the corridor as Jack came back to life. The Hunter glanced over, a look of consternation on her face. "But this is wrong! You can't control life and death!"

"But I can," Hazel assured her. "The sun and the moon, and the day and night." She sighed blissfully, before wincing, her face contorting in pain. "But why do they hurt?"

"The power's going to kill you and it's all my fault," the Hunter realised, covering her mouth in horror.

"I can see everything," Hazel breathed. "All that is, all that was, all that ever could be."

"That's what I see," the Hunter told her softly. "All the time. And doesn't it drive you mad?"

"My head," Hazel groaned, swaying slightly.

"Come here," the Hunter whispered, holding her arms out towards her.

"It's killing me," Hazel whimpered in realisation, stumbling towards the Time Lady.

The Hunter smiled down at her as she supported Hazel in her arms. A tear rolled down her cheek, splashing down to join the many already adorning Hazel's cheeks. The Hunter sniffed, smiling, and wiped them away with her thumb. "Oh, Hazie..." She sighed happily. "I think I need you." She leaned down and kissed her, their eyes both closing as she started to pull the vortex from Hazel's mind. When the golden energy had transferred across completely, Hazel gasped slightly, her eyes opening. The Hunter pulled away, smiling gently at her through her tears. Hazel managed a small smile back before she fainted in her arms.

The Hunter carried her into the TARDIS, setting her down on the jump seat carefully before exhaling the energy back into the ship. The doors closed, and the TARDIS dematerialised, leaving one revived man stranded on a satellite full of corpses.

~~~

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thedoctorcried · 3 years

Text

Runaway - Part Seventeen

~Masterlist~

Warnings: swearing, follows S1 of Doctor Who.

The Hunter blinked as she woke, finding herself in a cupboard that seemed to be spinning dangerously. She made for a wall to lean against, then yelped as it gave way and she fell out into a brightly-carpeted corridor. "What's happening?" she demanded, struggling to get to her feet.

"Oh my God!" a high-pitched voice squeaked, making her wince. "I don't believe it! Why'd they put you in there? They never said you were coming."

"What happened? I was -" She cut herself off as she lurched sideways, the woman rushing to support her.

"Careful now. Oh! Oh, mind yourself!" she exclaimed as the Hunter hit her head on the wall behind her. "Oh, that's the transmat. It scrambles your head. I was sick for days. All right?" She let her stand for herself, leaning heavily against the wall. "So, what's your name then, sweetheart?"

"Art- no, no, that's not right. The Hunter, I think. I was, er - I don't know. What happened? How -?"

"You got chosen," the blonde woman stated.

The Hunter blinked, holding her head. "Chosen for what?"

"You're a housemate," the woman told her, grinning. "You're in the house. Isn't that brilliant?!"

"That's not fair!" a young man exclaimed. "We've got eviction in five minutes! I've been here for all nine weeks, I've followed the rules, I haven't had a single warning, and then she comes swanning in."

Another woman joined in. "If they keep changing the rules, I'm going to protest, I am. You watch me, I'm going to paint the walls."

A tannoy rang out across the room. "Would the Hunter please come to the Diary Room?" The blonde woman showed the Hunter through a door with a stylised eye on it, and the Time Lady sat in a comfy chair, trying to figure out what the hell was going on. "You are live on channel forty four thousand. Please do not swear."

"You have got to be kidding me," the Hunter rolled her eyes as she finally recognised where she was.

***

Hazel groaned a little as she stirred, blinking when she saw a dark-skinned young man watching over her. "What happened?" she asked, her voice croaky from lack of use.

"It's all right," the man assured her. "It's the transmat. Does your head in. Get a bit of amnesia. What's your name?"

"Hazel. But where's the Hunter?"

"Just remember, do what the android says," the man advised. "Don't provoke it. The android's word is law."

Hazel frowned. "What do you mean, android? Like a robot?"

A woman called out instructions from about twenty yards away. "Positions, everyone! Thank you!"

"Come on, hurry up," the man said, helping Hazel to her feet and supporting her when she stumbled. "Steady, steady."

"I was travelling," Hazel remembered, "with the Hunter and a man called Captain Jack. The Hunter wouldn't just leave me."

"That's enough chat! Positions! Final call! Good luck!"

Hazel blinked, clutching onto the podium for balance. "But I'm not supposed to be here."

"It says Hazel on the podium," the man stated, shrugging. Judging by his podium, he was called Rodrick. "Come on."

"Hold on, I must be going mad," Hazel frowned, looking around at the set-up of the place. "It can't be... This looks like the -"

"Android activated!" the floor manager called.

Hazel's eyes widened as the robot came into view. "Oh my God, the android. The Anne Droid."

"Welcome to The Weakest Link!" the Anne Droid announced.

***

"Here we go again," a female voice sighed. "We've got our work cut out for us."

"I don't know," another stated. "He's sort of handsome. Has a good lantern jaw."

"Lantern jaws are so last year," the first scoffed.

Jack opened his eyes blearily to see a pair of droids - one tall and thin, the other short and curvy - looking down at him. He appeared to be lying on an examination couch, and a quick glance around showed not much more than some mirrors and a few racks of clothes. He grinned nervously. "Sorry, but - nice to meet you, ladies - but where exactly am I?"

"We're giving you a brand new image," one of the droids said. According to the badge on her front, her name was Trine-E.

"Hold on, I was with Queenie and Jules," Jack remembered. Then, what the droid had said caught up to him, and he frowned, standing. "Why, is there something wrong with what I'm wearing?"

"It's all very twentieth century," the other droid, Zu-Zana, complained. "Where did you get that denim?" She was eyeing his jeans suggestively.

"A little place in Cardiff," Jack replied. "It was called the Top Shop."

"Ah!" Zu-Zana clearly knew of it. "Design classic."

"But we're going to have to find you some new colours," Trine-E decided. "Maybe get rid of that Oklahoma Farm Boy thing you've got going on."

"Just stand still and let the Defabricator work its magic," Zu-Zana advised.

Jack frowned. "What's a defabricator?" Trine-E didn't answer, just activated it. Jack looked down at himself as his clothes vanished. "Okay. Defabricator. Does exactly what it says on the tin. Am I naked in front of millions of viewers?"

"Absolutely!" Trine-E and Zu-Zana cried simultaneously.

Jack grinned confidently. "Ladies, your viewing figures just went up."

***

The Hunter had left the Diary Room to investigate the house. She hadn't got her jacket with her, but thankfully, she'd been using her sonic screwdriver as a decorative piece in her simple up-do, so she was able to use it to try and open the door out of the house. She swore when the door refused to budge. "I can't open it."

"It's got a deadlock seal, ever since Big Brother five hundred and four when they all walked out. You must remember that," the blonde woman told her.

"What about this?" the Hunter asked, indicating what looked like a darkened window.

"Oh, that's exoglass," the woman supplied. "You'd need a nuclear bomb to get through."

The Hunter rolled her eyes, biting her lip as she worried about where Hazel and Jack were. "Don't tempt me."

"I know you're not supposed to talk about the outside world, but you must've been watching," the woman said, looking nervous. "Do people like me? Lynda. Lynda with a Y, not Linda with an I. She got forcibly evicted because she damaged the camera. Am I popular?"

"I don't remember," the Hunter shrugged, trying to brush it off as she searched for a possible exit.

Lynda's eyes widened. "Oh, but does than mean I'm nothing. Some people get this far just because they're insignificant. Doesn't anybody notice me?"

The Hunter sighed. "No, you're, you're nice. You're sweet. Everybody thinks you're sweet."

"Oh, is that right?" Lynda's face had lit up. "Is that what I am? Oh, no one's ever told me that before. Am I sweet? Really?"

"Yeah," the Hunter flashed a grin. "Dead sweet."

"Thank you," Lynda smiled sincerely.

The Hunter frowned as she came to the other end of the house. "It's a wall." She remembered times she'd seen it on TV at Jace's flat. "Isn't there supposed to be a garden out there or something?"

Lynda snorted. "Don't be daft. No one's got a garden anymore. Who's got a garden? Don't tell me you've got a garden."

"No, I've just got the TARDIS." The Hunter's eyes widened. "I remember!"

"That's the amnesia," Lynda nodded, grinning. So what happened? Where did they get you?"

"We'd just left Raxacoricofallapatorius," the Hunter remembered. "Then we went to Kyoto. That's right, Japan in 1336, and we only just escaped. We were together, we were laughing, and then there was this light. This white light coming through the walls, and then - and then I woke up here."

"Yeah, that's the transmat beam," Lynda told her. "That's how they pick the housemates."

"Oh, Lynda with a Y. Sweet little Lynda," the Hunter sighed, shaking her head. "It's worse than that. I'm not just a passing traveller. No stupid little transmat gets inside my ship. That beam was fifteen million times more powerful, which means this isn't just a game. There's something else going on." She turned to one of the cameras and glared at it. "Well, here's the latest update from the Big Brother house. I'm getting out. I'm going to find my friends, and then I'm going to find you."

***

"Seventeen, sixteen, fifteen," the floor manager counted down. "Thank you, people. Transmitting in twelve, eleven, ten..."

"But I need to find the Hun-!" Hazel protested.

"Just shut up and play the game," Rodrick hissed. There was something in his voice that made her want to play, if only to kick his ass.

"All right, then," she shrugged. "What the hell. I'm going to play to win!"

"Three, and cue!"

The Anne Droid came to life suddenly. "Let's play The Weakest Link. Start the clock. Agorax, the name of which basic foodstuff is an anagram of the word 'beard'?"

"Bread," Agorax answered, looking scared.

"Correct. Fitch, in the Pan Traffic Calendar, which month comes after Hoob?"

"Is - Is it Clavadoe?" Fitch guessed.

"No, Pandoff. Hazel, in maths, what is 258 minus 158?"

"One hundred," Hazel answered confidently. This wasn't so hard.

"Correct. Rodrick -"

"Bank," he stated.

"Which letter of the alphabet appears in the word dangle but not in the word gland?"

"E," Rodrick answered.

"Correct. Colleen, in social security, what D is the name of the payment given to Martian Drones?"

"Default," she answered.

"Correct, Broff, the Great Cobalt Pyramid is built on the remains of which famous Old Earth Institute?"

"Er, Touchdown," he guessed, trying to sound confident.

"No, Torchwood. Agorax, in language, all five examples of which type of letter appear in the word facetious?"

"Vowels," Agorax answered.

"Correct. Fitch, in biology, which blood cells contain iron? Red or white?"

"White," Fitch tried.

"No, red. Hazel, in the holovid series 'Jupiter Rising', the Grexnik is married to whom?"

Hazel laughed, shrugging. "How should I know?"

"No, the correct answer is Lord Drayvole. Rodrick, in maths, what is nine squared?"

"Eighty one," he answered.

***

Jack was posing in front of the mirror, not looking convinced about his new outfit.

"It's the buccaneer look," Trine-E assured him. "Little dash pirate and just a tweak of President Schwarzenegger."

"Er, not sure about the vest," Jack confessed. "What about a little bit of colour to lift it?"

"Absolutely not," Zu-Zana admonished. "Never wear black with colour. It makes the colour look cheap and the black look boring. Now, let's talk jackets."

"I kind of like the first one," Jack suggested, his mind too busy trying to figure out a plan to focus on the jackets.

"No, that's a bit too much Hell's Angel," Zu-Zana told him. "I think I like the shorter one. Look, waist length, nice and slimming, shows off the bum."

Jack shrugged as she slapped his ass. "Works for me," he smirked.

"Once we've got an outfit, we can look at the face. Ever thought about cosmetic surgery?" Trine-E asked.

"I've considered it, yeah," he nodded. "A little lift around the eyes, tighten up the jaw line. What do you think?"

"Oh, let's have a bit more ambition," Trine-E stated. "Let's go something cutting edge." Her forearm detached to reveal a spinning chainsaw. Jack gulped.

***

"So, Hazel, what do you actually do?" the Anne Droid questioned.

"I just travel around a bit," Hazel shrugged. "Bit of a tourist, I suppose."

"Another way of saying unemployed," the Anne Droid stated.

Hazel narrowed her eyes. "No."

"Have you got a job?"

She blinked. "Well, not really, no, but -"

"Then you are unemployed. And yet, you've still got enough money to buy peroxide," the Anne Droid noted. Hazel frowned. She was a natural blonde! "Why Fitch?"

"Er, I think she got a few of the questions wrong, that's all," Hazel bit her lip.

"Oh, you'd know all about that."

Hazel glared. "Well, yeah, but I can't vote for myself, so it had to be Fitch." She blinked as Fitch burst into tears. "I'm sorry, that's the game. That's how it works. I had to vote for someone."

"Let me try again!" Fitch begged, tears streaming down her cheeks. "It was the lights and everything. I couldn't think."

"In fact, with three answers wrong, Broff was the weakest link in that round, but it's votes that count," the Anne Droid reported.

"I'm sorry!" Fitch cried. "Please! Oh God, help me!"

"Fitch, you are the weakest link. Goodbye!" A gun came out of the Anne Droid's mouth and the beam it shot disintegrated Fitch.

"And we've gone to the adverts," the floor manager announced. "Back in three minutes."

"What's that?" Hazel demanded, staring in horror at where Fitch had stood, a small pile of dust being all that remained of her. "What just happened?"

"She was the weakest link, she gets disintegrated," Rodrick shrugged. "Blasted into atoms."

"But I voted for her," Hazel whispered, feeling nauseous. "Oh my God. This is sick. All of you, you're just sick! I'm not playing this."

"I'm not playing!" Broff shouted suddenly, drowning her out. "I can't do it! I'm not - Please, somebody let me out of here." He started running across the studio.

"You are the weakest link," the Anne Droid announced, and disintegrated him. "Goodbye."

"Don't try to escape," Rodrick advised a pale Hazel. "It's play or die."

***

"Hunter, they said all the housemates must gather on the sofa," Lynda called. "You've got to."

"I'm busy getting out, thanks," the Hunter told her, sonicing the door to no effect.

"But if you don't obey, then all the housemates get punished," Lynda reasoned.

She shrugged. "Well, maybe I'll be voted out, then."

"How stupid are you?" the man, Strood, demanded. "You've only just joined, you're not eligible."

"Don't try anything clever or we all get it in the neck," Lynda warned as the Hunter sighed, coming over and sitting on the sofa.

The TV in front of them came to life suddenly. "Big Brother House, this is Davina Droid. Crosbie, Lynda, and Strood, you have all been nominated for eviction. And the eighth person to be evicted from the Big Brother House is..." There was a long, drawn-out pause, making the Hunter roll her eyes, lean back and put her feet up on the table. "Crosbie!"

Lynda gasped. "I'm sorry! Oh, I'm sorry! Sorry!"

"Oh, it should've been me," Strood said, hugging Crosbie. "Oh, that's not fair, Crosbie love."

"Crosbie, you have ten seconds to make your farewells, and then we're going to get you."

"I won't forget you," Lynda promised.

"I'm sorry I stole your soap," Crosbie apologised tearfully.

"I don't mind, honestly," Lynda assured her.

"Thanks for the food," Strood said. "You're a smashing cook. Bless you."

"Crosbie, please leave the Big Brother House," Davina Droid ordered. A door opened into a short white corridor, with another door at the far end.

"Bye then," Crosbie whispered. "Bye, Lynda."

"Bye," Lynda sniffed. She and Strood made an arch with their arms and Crosbie walked through into the corridor. The door shut behind her, and she appeared on the TV screen. "I don't believe it. Crosbie."

"It's only a game show," the Hunter pointed out, rolling her eyes. "She'll make a fortune on the outside. Sell her story, release a record, fitness video, all of that. She'll be laughing."

"What do you mean, on the outside?" Lynda asked, staring at her tearfully.

"Here we go," Strood muttered, and the pair of them ran to see Crosbie onscreen.

"What are they waiting for?" the Hunter frowned. "Why don't they just let her go?"

"Stop it, it's not funny!"

"Eviction in five, four, three, two one." A beam came from the ceiling and hit Crosbie. She disappeared in a puff of smoke.

The Hunter, who up until this point had only been half-watching, shot up, her eyes widening. "What was that?"

"Disintegrator beam," Strood replied.

"She's been evicted. From life," Lynda added.

"Are you insane?" the Hunter demanded angrily. "You just step right into the disintegrator? Is it that important, getting your face on the telly? Is it worth dying for?"

"You're talking like we've got a choice!" Lynda shot back.

Now the Time Lady was confused. "But I thought you had to apply."

"Don't be so stupid," Strood scowled. "That's how they played it centuries back."

"You get chosen whether you like it or not," Lynda explained. "Everyone on Earth is a potential contestant. The transmat beam picks you out at random. And it's non-stop. There are sixty Big Brother houses running all at once."

"How many? Sixty?" the Hunter asked, paling.

"They've had to cut back," Strood nodded. "It's not what it was."

"It's a charnel house!" the Hunter retorted. "What about the winners? What do they get?"

"They get to live," Lynda stated.

"Is that it?"

"Well, isn't that enough?"

"Hazel's out there," the Hunter realised. "She and Jack got caught in the transmat. They're contestants. Time I got out." She got up. "That other contestant, uh, Linda with an I. She was forcibly evicted for what?"

"Damage to property," Lynda supplied.

"What, like this?" the Hunter asked, crushing a camera telekinetically.

***

Now Jack was in tennis whites. "No, I'm just not getting this," he sighed, keeping an eye on the droids behind him. "It's just too safe. Too decent. And you'd never keep it clean."

"Stage two, ready and waiting," Zu-Zana announced.

"Bring it on, girls." They disintegrated his clothes again.

"And now it's time for the face off!" Trine-E cheered.

"What does that mean?" Jack asked warily. "Do I get to compete with someone else?"

"No. Like I said, face off." Trine-E started up her chainsaw.

"I think you'd look good with a dog's head," Zu-Zana suggested, snipping a pair of large scizzors menacingly.

"Or maybe no head at all," Trine-E countered. "That would be so outrageous."

"And we could stitch your legs to the middle of your chest," Zu-Zana added.

"Nothing is too extreme," Trine-E declared. "It's to die for."

Jack sighed. "Now, hold on, ladies. I don't want to have to shoot either one of you."

"But you're unarmed!" Trine-E pointed out.

"You're naked!" Zu-Zana added. Jack grabbed a small gun from behind him. "But that's a Compact Laser Deluxe!"

"Where were you hiding that?" Trine-E questioned.

"You really don't want to know," Jack chuckled.

"Give me that accessory," Trine-E ordered, moving forwards with Zu-Zana. Jack shot their heads off.

***

"You are the weakest link. Goodbye!" Colleen was atomised.

"Going to the break!" the floor manager called. "Two minutes on the clock. Just a reminder we've got solar flare activity coming up in ten. Thanks, everyone."

"Colleen was clever," Hazel hissed. "She banked all our money. Why'd you vote for her?"

"Because I want to keep you in," Rodrick told her. "You're stupid! You don't even know the Princess Vossaheen's surname. When it comes to the final, I want to be up against you, so that you get disintegrated and I get a stack load of credits courtesy of the Bad Wolf Corporation."

Hazel had blanched, but not at the disintegration thing. "What do you mean? Who's Bad Wolf?"

"They're in charge," Rodrick shrugged. "They run the Game Station."

"Why are they called Bad Wolf?" Hazel questioned.

"I don't know," he frowned. "It's just a name. It's like an Old Earth nursery rhyme sort of thing - what does it matter?"

"I keep hearing those words everywhere we go," Hazel remembered. "Bad Wolf."

"The things you've seen. The darkness. The big bad wolf."

"Attention all personnel. Bad Wolf One descending."

"Blaidd Drwg."

"What's it mean?"

"Bad Wolf."

She smiled, remembering the little boy that had graffitied Bad Wolf on the TARDIS at the Powell Estate. "Different times, different places, like it's written all over the universe."

"What're you going on about?" Rodrick frowned, confused.

"If the Bad Wolf is in charge of this quiz, then maybe I'm not here by mistake. Someone's been planning this," Hazel realised, seeing a tiny glimmer of hope.

***

"Hunter, you've broken the House Rules. Big Brother has no choice but to evict you. You have ten seconds to make your farewells, and then we're going to get you!"

"That's more like it!" the Hunter grinned, banging on the door. "Come on, then. Open up!"

"You're mad!" Lynda shook her head. "It's like you want to die!"

"I reckon she's a plant," Strood decided. "She was only brought in to stir things up."

"The Hunter, please leave the Big Brother house."

The Hunter grinned, running into the corridor, then smiled for the camera. "Come on, then, disintegrate me! Come on, what're you waiting for? Disintegrate me! What are you waiting for?"

"Eviction in five, four, three, two, one." The machine shut down.

"See! I knew it!" the Hunter grinned victoriously. "You see, someone brought me into this game. If they'd wanted me dead, they could've transmatted me into a volcano. They want me alive." She turned to the door that lead outside. "Maybe security isn't as tight this end. Are you following this? I'm getting out!" She soniced the door, opening it. Lynda opened the other door. "Come with me."

"We're not allowed!" Strood protested.

"Stay in there, you've got a fifty fifty chance of disintegration," the Hunter pointed out. "Stay with me, I promise I'll get you out alive. Come on!"

"No, I can't. I can't," Lynda hesitated.

"Lynda, you're sweet," the Hunter sighed. "From what I've seen of your world, do you think anyone votes for sweet?" She held out her hand. Lynda took it and they left the house. The Hunter frowned as they entered a long, familiar-looking corridor. "Hold on. I've been here before. This is Satellite Five. No guards," she noticed. "That makes a change. You'd think a big business like Satellite Five would be armed to the teeth."

Lynda frowned. "No one's called it Satellite Five in ages. It's the Game Station now. Hasn't been Satellite Five in about a hundred years."

"A hundred years exactly," the Hunter confirmed. "It's the year two zero zero one zero zero. I was here before, Floor One Thirty Nine. The Satellite was broadcasting news channels back then. Had a bit of trouble upstairs. Nothing too serious. Easy. Gave them a hand, home in time for tea."

"A hundred years ago?" Lynda echoed. "What, you were here a hundred years ago?"

"Yep."

"You're looking good on it," she mentioned.

The Hunter flashed her a grin, getting out her sonic screwdriver. "I moisturise. Funny sorts of readings. All kinds of energy. The place is humming. It's weird. This goes way beyond normal transmissions. What would they need all that power for?"

"I don't know," Lynda shrugged. "I think we're the first ever contestants to get outside."

"I had two friends travelling with me," the Hunter stated. "They must've got caught in the same transmat. Where would they be?"

Lynda shrugged again. "I don't know. They could've been allocated anywhere. There's a hundred different games."

"Like what?"

"Well, there's ten floors of Big Brother. There's a different House behind each of those doors. And then beyond that, there's all sorts of shows. It's non-stop. There's Call My Bluff, with real guns. Countdown, where you've got thirty seconds to stop the bomb going off. Ground Force, which is a nasty one. You get turned into compost. Uh, Wipeout, speaks for itself. Oh, and Stars In Their Eyes. Literally, stars in their eyes. If you don't sing, you get blinded."

The Hunter raised her eyebrows. "And you watch this stuff?"

"Everyone does," Lynda told her. "How come you don't?"

"Never paid for my licence," the Hunter shrugged.

"Oh my God!" Lynda gasped, her eyes wide. "You get executed for that."

The Hunter snorted. "I'd like to see them try."

"You keep saying things that don't make sense. Who are you though, Hunter, really?" Lynda asked.

"It doesn't matter," the Time Lady dismissed.

"Well, it does to me. I've just put my life in your hands," Lynda pointed out.

The Hunter smiled briefly. "I'm just a traveller, wandering past. Believe it or not, all I'm after is a quiet life."

"So, if we get out of here, what're you going to do?" Lynda wondered. "Just wander off again?"

"Fast as I can," the Hunter nodded.

"So, I could come with you?" Lynda suggested casually.

"Maybe you could."

"I wouldn't get in the way."

The Hunter smirked. "Yeah, but first, we've got to concentrate on the getting out part. And to do that, you've got to know your enemy. Who's controlling it? Who's in charge of the satellite now?"

"Hold on," Lynda muttered. She ran over to a breaker lever and pulled it, lighting up a sign behind the Hunter. "Your lords and masters." The Hunter turned and blanched when she saw the name - Bad Wolf Corporation.

***

Jack had found himself some decent clothes before starting to take apart the Defabricator for parts. "Compatible systems," he muttered. "Just align the wave signature... Attaboy! Got myself a gun. Well, ladies, the pleasure was all mine. Which is the only thing that matters in the end." He ran out onto Floor Two Ninety Nine, called the lift, then checked his vortex manipulator, scanning the space station. "Two hearts, that's her. Which floor?" He smirked, getting into the lift.

***

"Blimey!" Lynda breathed, looking out of a large observation window to the planet below. "I've never seen it for real before. Not from orbit. Planet Earth."

The Hunter frowned, her brow furrowing at the sight before her. "What's happened to it?"

"Well, it's always been like that," Lynda shrugged. "Ever since I was born. See that there? That's the Great Atlantic Smog Storm. It's been going twenty years. We get newsflashes telling us when it's safe to breath outside."

"So the population just sits there?" the Hunter asked. "Half the world's too fat, and half the world's too thin, and you lot just watch telly?"

"Ten thousand channels, all beaming down from here," Lynda confirmed.

"The Human Race. Brainless sheep being fed on a diet of -" She paused, distracted. "Mind you, have they still got that programme with three people have to live with a bear?"

"Oh, Bear With Me!" Lynda grinned. "I love that one!"

"And me," the Hunter grinned. "The celebrity edition where the bear got in the bath."

"Got in the bath!" Lynda exclaimed at the same time, laughing.

"But it's all gone wrong," the Hunter shook her head, suddenly serious again. "I mean, history's gone wrong again. This should be the Fourth Great and Bountiful Human Empire. I don't understand. Last time I was here I put it right."

"No, but that's when it first went wrong," Lynda stated. "A hundred years ago, like you said. All the news channels, they just shut down overnight."

"But that was me," the Hunter blinked. "I did that."

"There was nothing in their place," Lynda explained. "No information. The whole planet just froze. The government, the economy, they collapsed. That was the start of it. One hundred years of hell."

The Hunter had blanched, staring down at the ruin of a planet below. "I made this world," she realised.

***

Agorax screamed as he was disintegrated, and Hazel bit her lip, closing her eyes.

"That leaves Hazel and Rodrick," the Anne Droid announced. "You're going head to head. Let's play The Weakest Link."

Rodrick nodded. "Right, that's the end of tactical voting. You're on your own now."

***

"Hey, gorgeous!" The Hunter whipped round and ran to hug Jack as he stepped out of the lift. "Good to see you too, Queenie. Any sign of Jules?"

"Can't you track her down?" she asked, indicating his vortex manipulator.

He shook his head. "She must still be inside the games. All the rooms are shielded."

"If I can just get inside this computer," she sighed, returning to it. Lynda eyed Jack curiously. "She's got to be here somewhere."

"Well, you'd better hurry up. These games don't have a happy ending," Jack stated.

She bristled. "Do you think I don't know that?"

Jack squeezed her shoulder, handing over his vortex manipulator. "There you go, patch that in. It's programmed to find her."

"Thanks," she muttered, and he turned to Lynda.

"Hey, there."

"Hello," Lynda smiled.

"Captain Jack Harkness."

"Lynda Moss."

Jack winked. "Nice to meet you, Lynda Moss."

The Hunter rolled her eyes. "Do you mind flirting outside?"

"I was just saying hello!" Jack protested, grinning.

"For you, that's flirting," the Hunter reminded him.

"I'm not complaining," Lynda blushed.

"Muchas gracias," Jack grinned.

The Hunter growled. "It's not compatible. This stupid system doesn't make sense!" Jack took off the front plate and started working inside the computer. "This place should be a basic broadcaster, but the systems are twice as complicated. It's more than just television. This station's transmitting something else."

"Like what?" Jack asked.

"I don't know," the Hunter sighed. "This whole Bad Wolf thing's tied up with me. Someone's manipulated my entire life. It's some sort of trap and Hazel is stuck inside it."

***

"Hazel, in geography, the Grand Central Ravine is named after which ancient British city?"

"Is it York?" Hazel guessed.

"No, the correct answer is Sheffield."

***

"Found her," the Hunter exclaimed victoriously. "Floor Four Oh Seven."

Lynda blanched. "Oh my God. She's with the Anne Droid. You've got to get her out of there."

***

"Rodrick, in literature, the author Lucky was Jackie who?"

"Stewart," Rodrick answered.

"No, the correct answer is Collins. Hazel, the oldest inhabitant of Isop Galaxy is the Face of what?"

"Boe!" Hazel exclaimed, ignoring Rodrick's surprised expression. "The Face of Boe!"

"That is the correct answer."

***

"Come on, come on!" the Hunter muttered, bouncing on her toes impatiently in the lift.

***

"Rodrick, in history, who was the President of the Red Velvets?"

"Hoshbin Frane," Rodrick replied.

"That is the correct answer. Hazel, in food, the dish Gaffabeque originated on which planet?"

Hazel bit her lip. "Uh, is it Mars?"

"No, the correct answer is Lucifer. Rodrick, which measurement of length is said to have been defined by the Emperor Jate as the distance from his nose to his fingertip?"

"Would that be a goffle?" Rodrick guessed.

"No, the correct answer is a paab. Hazel, in fashion, Stella Pok Baint is famous for what?"

"Shoes," Hazel replied, shrugging.

"No, the correct answer is hats. Rodrick, in physics, who discovered the Fifteen Dash Ten Barric Fields?"

***

"Game Room Six, which one is it?" the Hunter demanded as they ran out of the lift on Four Oh Seven.

"Over here!" Lynda called.

***

"San Hazeldine," Rodrick stated.

"No, the correct answer is San Chen."

***

"Stand back, let me blast it open," Jack ordered.

The Hunter shook her head, pulling out her sonic screwdriver. "You can't. It's made of Hydra combination."

***

"Hazel, in history, which Icelandic city hosted Murder Spree Twenty?"

"Reykjavik?" Hazel guessed, her heart thumping.

"No, the correct is Pola Ventura." Hazel's heart sank.

"Oh my God! I've done it! You've lost!" Rodrick exclaimed.

***

"Come on, come on, come on," the Hunter muttered under her breath as she worked on the lock.

***

"But I'm not meant to be here!" Hazel protested, close to tears, fighting to keep it together. "I need to find the Hunter, she's got to be here somewhere, she's always here! She wouldn't just leave me!"

"Rodrick, you are the strongest link, you will be transported home with one thousand six hundred credits."

"Oh, thank you, thank you so much!" Rodrick was crying in relief.

"This game is illegal!" Hazel insisted. "I'm telling you to stop!"

The Hunter burst through the door. "Haze! Stop this game!"

"Hazel, you leave this life with nothing."

"Stop this game!" Jack shouted.

"I order you to stop this game!" the Hunter yelled.

"You are the weakest link."

"Look out for the Anne Droid, it's armed!" Hazel cried. She ran towards the Hunter and Jack, and the Anne Droid shot her, the beam disintegrating her instantly. The Hunter ran to where she'd been, kneeling next to the pile of dust.

"Back off!" Jack shouted as guards flooded in, keeping them away from the Hunter. "Don't you touch her! Leave her alone!"

A security guard took the Hunter's arm, trying to pull her away, while another dealt with Jack. "Sir, put down the gun or I'll have to shoot."

"You killed her!" Jack cried, his voice cracking. "Your stupid freaking game show killed her!"

"Ma'am, I'm arresting you under Private Legislation Sixteen of the Game Station Syndicate."

***

"Can you tell us the purpose of this device, ma'am?" A guard brandished the sonic screwdriver in front of the Hunter's emotionless face. "Can you tell us how you got on board?"

"Just leave her alone," Lynda scowled.

The guard glared at her. "I'm asking her. Ma'am? Can you tell us who you are?" He sighed, giving up. "You will be taken from this place to the Lunar Penal Colony, there to be held without trial. You may not appeal against this sentence. Is that understood?"

As a second guard unlocked the cage to let his colleague out, the Hunter glanced at Jack and said the first words she'd spoken since Hazel's death. "Let's do it."

Immediately, Jack kicked out the legs of the guard, before the Hunter telekinetically smashing the other man's head into a wall, then threw them both in the cell and locked the door. Jack grabbed his Defabricator gun, the Hunter took her sonic screwdriver, and Lynda stole the guards' weapons.

They ran to the lift. "Floor 500," the Hunter ordered.

***

"Okay, move away from the desk!" Jack ordered as he left the lift first, aiming his Defabricator gun at the staff. "Nobody try anything clever. Everybody clear. Stand to the side and stay there."

The Hunter came out next, Lynda following her. "Who's in charge of this place?" the Hunter demanded, walking towards a woman who was hooked up to the computers, the Controller.

"Nineteen, eighteen..." the Controller counted.

"This Satellite's more than a Game Station."

"Seventy nine, eighty..."

"Who killed Hazel Norton?"

"All staff are reminded that solar flares -"

"I want an answer!"

"Occur in delta point one -"

"She can't reply," one man exclaimed, then cowered as the Hunter turned to him. "Don't shoot."

"Oh, don't be so thick," the Hunter rolled her eyes. She threw the gun she'd commandeered to him, then glanced at a computer, seeing guards getting into the lifts on some kind of CCTV. "Captain, we've got more guards on the way up. Secure the exits."

Jack nodded. "Yes, ma'am."

The Hunter pointed at the man who now held her gun. "You. What were you saying?"

"But I've got your gun," he stammered.

She narrowed her eyes. "Okay, so shoot me. Why can't she answer?"

"She's uh... Can I put this down?"

"If you want, just hurry up."

"Thanks. Sorry. The Controller is linked to the transmissions. The entire output goes through her brain," the man explained. "You're not a member of staff so she doesn't recognise your existence."

"What's her name?" the Hunter questioned.

"I don't know. She was installed when she was five years old. That's the only life she's ever known."

"Door's sealed," Jack reported. "We should be safe for about ten minutes."

"Keep an eye on them," the Hunter called back, meeting his eyes for a second before looking away, swallowing.

"But that stuff you were saying about something going on with the Game Station," the man said. "I think you're right. I've kept a log. Unauthorised transmats, encrypted signals, it's been going on for years."

"Show me," the Hunter ordered.

***

Jack tried to open another door, seeing if it was an exit. A woman tried to stop him. "You're not allowed in there. Archive Six is out of bounds."

"Lady, I am holding a gun and my sister is dead because of you," Jack glared. "You really wanna tell me what I can and can't do?" She backed off, and he opened the door, grinning a little when he saw the TARDIS. He went inside and activated the monitor. "What the hell?"

***

"Solar flare activity in delta point zero fifteen," the Controller stated.

"If you're not holding us hostage, then open the door and let us out," a woman pleaded. "The staff are terrified."

"That's the same staff who execute hundreds of contestants every day, yes?" the Hunter checked, not looking up from the computer she was looking at.

"Yes, but - That's not out faults! We're just doing our jobs."

The Hunter looked up to give her a cold glare. "And with that sentence you just lost the right to even talk to me. Now back off!" She looked round as the power cut out.

"That's just the solar flares," the man - who'd introduced himself as Pavale - assured her. "They interfere with the broadcast signal, so this place automatically powers down. Planet Earth gets a few repeats. It's all quite normal."

"Hunter," the Controller whispered.

"Hunter?" the woman asked.

The Hunter just barely kept herself from screaming at her. "Whatever it is, you can wait."

"I think she wants you," the woman said, ignoring the Time Lady's anger.

"Hunter? Hunter? Where's the Hunter?"

"I'm here," the Hunter stated, moving to look up at her.

"Can't see. I'm blind. So blind. All my life, blind. All I can see is numbers, but I saw you."

"What do you want?" the Hunter questioned.

"Solar flares hiding me," the Controller muttered. "They can't hear me. My masters, they always listen but they can't hear me now. The sun, the sun is so bright."

"Who are your masters?"

"They wired my head. The name's forbidden. They control my thoughts. My masters. My masters, I had to be careful. They monitor transmissions but they don't watch the programmes. I could hide you inside the games. Knew that you would find me."

"My... my friend died inside your games," the Hunter said, narrowing her eyes.

"Doesn't matter."

The Hunter bristled. "Don't you dare tell me that!"

"They've been hiding. My masters hiding in the dark space, watching and shaping the Earth so, so, so many years. Always been there, guiding humanity, hundreds and hundreds of years."

"Who are they?" the Hunter asked.

"They wait and plan and grow in numbers. They're strong now. So strong, my masters."

"Who are they?"

"But they speak of you, my masters, they fear the Hunter."

"Tell me, who are they?" the Hunter demanded.

The power came back on. "Twenty one, twenty two," the Controller muttered.

"When's the next solar flare?" the Hunter asked.

"Two years time," Pavale stated quietly.

The Hunter swore. "Fat lot of good that is."

"Found the TARDIS," Jack announced, jogging out of Archive Six.

"We're not leaving now," the Hunter told him.

"No, but she worked it out," Jack grinned, moving to a nearby console. "You'll want to watch this. Lynda, could you stand over there for me please?"

"I just want to go home," Lynda mumbled.

"It'll only take a second," Jack promised, flashing that brilliant grin. "Could you stand in that spot, quick as you can. Everybody watching? Okay, three, two, one." He pressed a button. A beam came down, and Lynda vanished in a puff of smoke.

The Hunter blanched, staring at her friend in horror. "But you killed her!"

Jack grinned. "Oh, do you think?" Another button made another beam, and Lynda reappeared.

"What the hell was that?" she asked, looking dazed.

"It's a transmat beam," Jack replied, and the Hunter's eyes widened in hope. "Not a disintegrator, a secondary transmat system. People don't get killed in the games, they get transported across space. Queenie, Jules is still alive!" She hugged him, crying in relief, him laughing happily.

***

Hazel stirred, feeling the ground below her humming. Her eyes widened when she saw a very familiar enemy approaching her. "No, it can't be. You're dead. I saw you die!"

***

"She's out there somewhere," the Hunter whispered, grinning as she worked at a console, trying to figure out where she'd been taken to.

"Hunter," the Controller called, making the Time Lady look up. "Co-ordinates five point six point one -"

The Hunter quickly typed them in. "Don't! The solar flare's gone. They'll hear you."

"Point four three four. No, my masters, no! I defy you! Stigma seven seven -" She disappeared with a scream and a puff of smoke.

"They took her," the Hunter sighed, inputting the co-ordinates. They weren't done yet.

"Look, use that," Pavale said, offering them a disc. "It might contain the final numbers. I kept a log of all the unscheduled transmissions."

"Nice, thanks," Jack smiled. "Captain Jack Harkness, by the way."

"I'm Davitch Pavale."

"Nice to meet you, Davitch Pavale," Jack grinned.

"Time and place, Jack," the Hunter admonished, but it was in much better spirits than it had been earlier.

"Are you saying this entire set-up's been a disguise all along?" a woman asked.

"Going way back," the Hunter confirmed. "Installing the Jagrafess a hundred years ago. Someone's been playing a long game, controlling the human race from behind the scenes for generations."

Jack grinned as he found the co-ordinates. "Click on this. The transmat delivers to that point, right on the edge of the solar system." A hologram screen showed a blank bit of space.

"There's nothing there," the woman pointed out.

The Hunter shook her head. "It looks like nothing because that's what this satellite does. Underneath the transmission there's another signal."

"Doing what?" Pavale asked.

"Hiding whatever's out there," the Hunter replied. "Hiding it from sonar, radar, scanner. There's something sitting right on top of planet Earth, but it's completely invisible. If I cancel the signal..." She typed at the computer, then looked up as she heard Jack's gasp.

He'd blanched at the sight of a familiar bronze saucer, the screen zooming out to show dozens more. "That's impossible. I know those ships. They were destroyed."

"Obviously they survived," the Hunter breathed, her own face paling in horror.

"Who did?" Lynda asked. "Who are they?"

"Two hundred ships," the Hunter whispered. "More than two thousand on board each one. That's just about half a million of them."

"Half a million what?" Pavale demanded.

The Hunter grabbed Jack's hand, squeezing it tight. "Daleks."

***

"Alert. Alert. We are detected."

"It is the Hunter! She has located us. Open communications channel."

"The female will stand. Stand!" Hazel stumbled to her feet amongst the hundreds of Daleks, seeing a viewscreen pop up, showing the Hunter and Jack, and some other people she didn't know.

"I will talk to the Hunter," one Dalek stated, moving forwards.

"Oh, will you?" the Hunter rolled her eyes. "That's nice. Hello!" She waved sarcastically.

"The Dalek stratagem nears completion. The fleet is almost ready. You will not intervene."

"Oh, really? Why's that, then?" the Hunter asked innocently.

"We have your associate. You will obey or she will be exterminated."

The Hunter snorted. "Yeah, no, I don't think so, love."

The Dalek shifted uneasily. "Explain yourself."

"I said, no."

"What is the meaning of this negative?" the Dalek demanded.

"Ooh, you skipped the queue for brains, didn't you? It means no, dumbass."

"But she will be destroyed," the Dalek threatened.

"Nope," the Hunter smiled sweetly. "Because this is what I'm going to do. I'm going to rescue her. I'm going to save Hazel Norton from the middle of the Dalek fleet and then I'm going to save the Earth, and then, just to finish off, I'm going to wipe every last bloody Dalek out of the sky!"

"But you have no weapons, no defences, no plan," the Dalek pointed out.

"Yeah," the Hunter agreed. "And doesn't that scare you to death. Haze?"

"Yes, Artie?" Hazel asked, grinning.

The Hunter flashed a quick, reassuring grin. "I'm coming to get you." She soniced the transmission, ending it.

"The Hunter is initiating hostile action."

"The stratagem must advance. Begin the invasion of Earth!"

"The Hunter will be exterminated!"

"Exterminate! Exterminate! Exterminate!"

~~~

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thedoctorcried · 3 years

Text

Runaway - Part Fourteen

~Masterlist~

Warnings: swearing, follows S1 of Doctor Who.

It had been a few months of travelling with Jack, and things were going well. It hadn't taken long for the three of them to become best friends, and the Captain was definitely a valuable addition to the team.

Today's adventure had been wild, and the three of them were celebrating their success with takeaway food. Hazel had insisted on this place she knew in London, and Jack and the Hunter were in the console room awaiting her return.

"So," Jack began, raising his eyebrows at the Time Lady. "What's the deal with you and Hazel?"

The Hunter blinked, looking up at him in surprise. "What? Nothing! There's nothing going on with me and Hazel. Nothing."

Jack gave her a look. "Oh, really? Two beautiful ladies such as yourselves, living together, fighting together, flirting together, both hella gay, and there's nothing there?"

"We're not together," the Hunter insisted, looking away to hide her blush.

"Why not?" he asked. "I mean, what's stopping you?"

"I fought a war," she told him. "Maybe before that, it would've happened, but now? I watched my brother die in my arms and I told myself I'd never let myself be close with someone like that again. Because I'd only lose them like I lost him. And then I meet Hazel and suddenly that promise gets that much harder to keep." She sighed, leaning against the console. "When people get close to me, they get hurt. I don't want that to happen to her."

Jack watched her carefully. "You really think she'll be happier if you're not together? Have you met Hazel? She's tough. I'm sure she can deal."

The Hunter glanced up at him, pushing her long hair out of the way. "Yes, but will she want to?"

***

Half an hour later, the three of them were sat around the table in the kitchen, eating their food.

"You know, when I first met you, I never thought this would happen. This being me not killing you," the Hunter clarified, sending Jack a sweet smile.

He laughed. "Yeah, you really seemed to hate me back then. Was it just 'cause I'm devilishly handsome, or was there something else?"

"Well, I hadn't figured out if I trusted you yet, so I thought I'd see what you'd do to someone who wasn't sold on you from three glasses of champagne and a dance by Big Ben," the Hunter shrugged.

"Hey!" Hazel pouted, and Jack ruffled her hair, grinning.

"You looked like a survivor," the Hunter finished.

"What, and that's a bad thing?" Jack asked, starting in on his cheeseburger.

The Hunter raised an eyebrow. "Not necessarily. But it's a thing my brother taught me - 'Never trust a survivor until you find out what they did to survive'."

Hazel blinked. "That's kind of morbid."

"It makes sense though," Jack pointed out. "Was your brother big on depressing truths?"

"Apollo was... funny. Without those depressing truths he would have been unbearable. He was my brother, after all. Can't say I've never had the strong urge to set him on fire, but I loved him." She shook her head. "Gotta remember that past tense."

Hazel put her hand over the Time Lady's and squeezed, making her smile. As he went to get a drink, Jack waggled his eyebrows at her behind the human girl's back. "Get in there," he mouthed.

The Hunter snorted, then laughed, and within minutes, they were all crying with laughter.

~~~

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thedoctorcried · 3 years

Text

Runaway - Part Eleven

~Masterlist~

Warnings: abuse + domestic violence mentions, swearing, follows S1 of Doctor Who.

"James Richards and Joanna Kathleen Minchin. Those were their names. My parents. Can I see them?"

The Hunter looked over the console at Hazel, who was leaning against the railings, looking at her hopefully. "Is this because of Adam?"

Hazel looked away. "If you can't do it 'cause of timelines or whatever, it's fine. I just..."

"No, I can do it. I can do anything. I'm just worried about you," the Hunter confessed, and she wasn't lying.

"I'm okay," Hazel assured her. "I just wanted to see what they were like before... well, before it all happened."

The Hunter watched her for a moment, then nodded. "Okay," she said simply, starting to pilot the TARDIS.

***

"I, James Richards, take you, Joanna Kathleen Minchin, to be my lawful wedded wife, to love and behold till death do us part..."

Hazel looked at the two adults in front of the altar, shaking her head as a tear ran down her cheek. "He always seemed so much taller."

***

Later, they were stood in the reception, watching as James and Joanna danced, kissing.

"Are you all right?" the Hunter murmured, seeing her friend was watching them with a pale face.

"I don't know," she whispered. "I... I don't know who these people are. It's like, I've seen her in pictures, yeah, but I don't remember her. And him... He's so different. I barely recognise him. He's not the same man that I..." She shook her head, biting her lip. "We should go. Before anyone asks who we are."

"Sure?"

"Yeah. Let's go."

The Hunter nodded, leading them back to the TARDIS. She piloted them into the vortex, figuring it wouldn't be best to go straight into another adventure today. "Hazel, I -" She turned around, finding the console room empty. She looked to the time rotor. "Where is she, old girl?" The TARDIS buzzed, and the Hunter set off.

***

Traitor.

Liar.

Bitch.

Murderer.

These were the words going through Hazel's head as she sat on her bed with her head in her hands. Her cheeks were wet with tears which only made her more upset as her mind flooded with memories. The earliest one she had was of when she was five years old, lying tucked up in bed and listening to her father bawl for his dead wife.

Then she was seven and the other girls at school were mocking her because her plaits were lopsided. Her father had never quite gotten the hang of braiding her hair.

Then she was nine, waiting at the school gates for her dad to pick her up. He'd been three hours late in the end, saying he got caught up at work, but both she and her teachers could smell the booze on his breath.

Then she was eleven, the only kid in her class not allowed to go on the field trip because her dad hadn't been able to get the money to pay for it - he'd spent it all on crack.

Then she was thirteen, and her father hit her for the first time and she cried because she didn't understand what she had done wrong.

Then she was fifteen, and she knew she'd done nothing wrong and still she apologised, until she finally struck up the courage to punch him back. She'd been studying karate at her school in the hope she'd be able to defend herself, and yet it seemed she was just like her father, attacking rather than protecting.

Then she was seventeen, standing at her parents' tombstones and crying because they wouldn't recognise her now. She hadn't gone to her father's funeral, mainly because the police wanted to question her - but also because she was scared they'd expect her to say something nice about him. The truth was, she couldn't remember anything they'd want to hear.

She was jerked from her thoughts by a knock at her door, and she looked up sharply, half-expecting to hear the throaty cough of a man who chose lung cancer over his own daughter. "Haze?" the Hunter's voice drifted through the wood. "Hazel, are you in there? I, uh... I made some hot chocolate, and there's too much for one. I thought maybe you'd like some?"

Hazel sniffed, wiping her cheeks and trying to look somewhat functional. "Uh, yeah. Yeah, just give me a minute." There was a patient silence from the other side, and Hazel tried for her usual smile before opening the door.

The Hunter was looking down at the two almost overflowing mugs. She'd discarded her trenchcoat and boots so she was just in a t-shirt and jeans. "We've run out of milk so I just put squirty cream and marshmallows on top, is that all -?" It was at this point that she looked up and saw her friend's tear-stained face. Her face softened, and she sighed unhappily. "Oh, Haze..." Hazel let her in, and she put the mugs down on her desk before hugging her. "What's wrong?"

They sat down on the bed, and Hazel put her head back in her hands as the Hunter put her arm around her. "It was just seeing them - my parents, I mean. I looked at my mum and I realised I don't know a thing about her. My own mother... And my dad looked so kind and caring and - and I killed him. That's the man I murdered! I should have helped him, I should have done something, I - I -" Her tears started anew, and the Hunter held her to herself, closing her eyes.

"It wasn't him, Haze. I know it looked like him, and sounded like him, and all that, but that wasn't your dad."

Hazel snuffled, shaking her head. "Your dad is supposed to protect you, not hurt you," she shivered. "And I just - I don't remember a time when I wasn't scared of him. You know, I used to think it was normal. How sick is that? And it was something like 1995, and I was using the computer at school, and I saw these stories from people who had normal dads who took them to baseball games or whatever and I thought I was the wrong one. I thought it was my fault he was like that." She sighed shakily, wiping her cheeks and leaning against her friend. "He used to come by my door every night and say 'goodnight, my little friend' all cheerful, like he wasn't going to hit me if I didn't answer."

"It wasn't your fault, Haze," the Hunter whispered, rocking her friend a little as she leaned back against the headboard, the younger girl in her arms. "You couldn't have done anything."

"Except I did," Hazel wept. "I murdered him. If I hadn't - none of it would have happened. I committed patricide! I was just so scared..."

The Hunter held her as she cried, ignoring the rapidly cooling mugs across the room. "It's okay. Let it all out. I'll look after you, Hazie. You're safe in here. You're safe, and you always will be."

~~~

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thedoctorcried · 3 years

Text

Runaway - Epilogue

~Masterlist~

Warnings: swearing, follows S1 of Doctor Who.

Hazel groaned softly as she stirred, her eyes flickering open to see the Hunter watching her, a small smile gracing her lips. She frowned slightly, pushing herself up to rest on her elbows. "What happened?"

"Don't you remember?" the Hunter asked quietly, leaning against the console.

"It's like there was this... singing?" Hazel shrugged, trying to remember.

The Hunter smiled sadly. "That's right. I sang a song and the Daleks ran away."

"I was at home," Hazel remember, then frowned. "No, I wasn't, I was in the TARDIS, and there was this light. I can't remember anything else."

"You will do," the Hunter promised, her eyes flickering to her hand, seeing golden energy rush up it. "Soon, you'll remember." She sighed, shaking her head, before looking back up at Hazel. "Hazel Norton. I was going to take you to so many places. Barcelona. Not the city Barcelona, the planet Barcelona. You'd love it. Fantastic place. They've got dogs with no noses. Imagine how many times a day you end up telling that joke, and it's still funny." She grinned.

"Then why can't we go?" Hazel asked warily, sitting up properly.

The Hunter shrugged airily. "Maybe you will, and maybe I will, but not like this."

"You're not making sense," Hazel shook her head, frowning.

"I might never make sense again," the Hunter realised, her eyes widening at the possibilities. "I might have two heads, or no head. Imagine me with no head. And don't say that's an improvement. But it's a bit dodgy, this process. You never know what you're going to end up w- Ow!" She doubled over in pain, her face contorting.

"Artie!" Hazel cried, scrambling to her feet.

The Hunter put out a hand. "Stay away!"

"Artie, tell me what's going on," Hazel pleaded, her eyes wide and scared.

"I absorbed all the energy of the Time Vortex, and no one's meant to do that," the Hunter replied, clenching her hand into a fist. "Every cell in my body's dying."

Hazel's blood ran cold. "Tell me you can do something."

"Yeah, I'm doing it now," the Hunter assured her, wincing. "Time Lords have this little trick, it's sort of a way of cheating death. Except it means I'm going to change, and I'm not going to see you again. Not like this. Not with this daft old face. And before I go -"

"Don't say that!" Hazel cried.

"Haze," the Hunter sighed, hugging her tight before she backed up again. "Before I go, I just want to tell you, you were fantastic. Absolutely fantastic. And do you know what? So was I." And with that, golden light burst out of her body, filling the console room with brightness. Hazel ducked behind one of the coral structures until the light faded, and peered round.

"Artie?" she asked timidly, her eyes wide, but all she saw was a slightly taller woman with very short blonde hair, wearing the same t-shirt and jeans the Hunter had been a second ago.

She smiled when she saw Hazel. "Hell- Ooh." She frowned, feeling around in her mouth with her tongue, looking spooked. "Okay. New teeth. That's weird. So, where was I? Oh, that's right." She grinned, winking at Hazel confidently. "Barcelona."

~~~

And that’s all for that series! If you enjoyed reading this, please please like and/or reblog, and consider donating to my Kofi so I can keep creating fics like this! Thanks for reading :)

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thedoctorcried · 3 years

Text

Runaway - Part Sixteen

~Masterlist~

Warnings: swearing, follows S1 of Doctor Who.

"We should get something for your neck," the Hunter said as she saw Hazel wince for about the thousandth time as they landed in the vortex. Jack had already gone off to do whatever he did - and they really didn't want to know exactly what - when they weren't going somewhere.

"It's fine," Hazel tried to assure her, but the Hunter was having none of it.

"You're in pain, Haze, and I can sort it, so I'm going to. Okay?" Hazel rolled her eyes and allowed herself to be dragged to the medbay, where the Hunter grabbed an advanced sort of ibuprofen gel. "It's gonna be cold," she warned, getting some on her fingers.

Hazel moved her hair out of the way, shivering a little as the gel touched her skin. It was definitely cold, but she could already feel the pain leaving her body. "Do you think Margaret will be all right?" she asked, biting her lip. It had been weird, just leaving the egg like they did, but what else could they do?

"She'll be fine," the Hunter assured her, massaging the gel into her friend's skin. "She'll be adopted by a lovely family who'll bring her up to be a polite young woman who wouldn't dream of killing someone. In fact, I've heard she becomes president of the Raxacoricofallapatorian government."

Hazel raised her eyebrows, turning to look at her as she heard the lid going back on the gel. "Wait, really?"

"Nah, she lost by thirty two votes," the Hunter confessed. "But it distracted you." She sat down next to Hazel after washing her hands. "Everything okay with Mike?"

The girl sighed. "He's mad because you mean more to me than he does," she admitted.

The Hunter stilled. "Okay."

"He wanted me to promise that if I came back, I was coming back for him, and I couldn't because what about Jace, and even without that, I'm gay and I don't want Mike, I want you and -!" Hazel cut herself off, her cheeks growing rosy. "Fuck..."

"I -"

"I shouldn't have said that," Hazel exclaimed. "I-!" The Hunter cut her off with a kiss, silencing her easily.

Pulling back, she whispered, "God you're beautiful," with this shy little smile that seemed to light up the room.

"That's sweet, but my name's not God," Hazel countered, making the Hunter snort, then pulled her back in for another, longer kiss.

Passing by, Jack could barely contain his squeals.

~~~

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thedoctorcried · 3 years

Text

Runaway - Part Fifteen

~Masterlist~

Warnings: swearing, follows S1 of Doctor Who.

Mike Denman stepped off the train at Cardiff Central railway station and headed to the Roald Dahl Plass. He smiled when he saw the TARDIS parked just in front of the huge water tower, walked up, and knocked on the door. It swung open to show a handsome man with dark hair and a confused expression. "Who the hell are you?"

"What do you mean, who the hell am I? Who the hell are you?" Mike demanded.

"Captain Jack Harkness." He flashed his signature brilliant smile. "Whatever you're selling, we're not buying."

Mike narrowed his eyes. "Get out of my way!" He pushed past Jack and into the TARDIS, making the man roll his eyes as he closed the door.

"Don't tell me. This must be the pikey you were telling me about."

The Hunter beamed down at them from a ladder, where she was fixing a light fitting on the wall. She was wearing a white t-shirt with blue skinny jeans, and ankle boots. "Here comes trouble! How're you doing, Spike?"

"It's Mike!"

Hazel rolled her eyes, sipping from a cup of hot chocolate. Judging both by this and her thick hoodie, she wasn't planning on running around much today. Maybe they'd be able to have a quiet day together for once? "Don't listen to her, she's winding you up."

"Damn right, I am," the Hunter muttered in the background, smirking.

"You look fantastic," Mike told Hazel, hugging her. Startled, she held her hot chocolate out of the way and hoped it wouldn't spill.

"Aw, sweet, look at these two," Jack sighed, leaning against the console next to the ladder. "How come I never get any of that?"

"Well, you'd have to buy me a drink first," the Hunter told him, winking.

He sighed despairingly. "You're such hard work."

"Yeah, but worth every bit of it," she smirked.

"Did you manage to find them?" Hazel asked eagerly.

"There you go," Mike smiled, handing over the fake IDs and passport. Little did he know, the IDs were in for a cathartic burning session later - it'd been Jack's idea.

Hazel grinned. "I can go anywhere now."

"I told you, you don't need a passport," the Hunter rolled her eyes, making her way down the ladder.

"It's all very well going to Platform One and Justicia and the Glass Pyramid of San Kaloon, but what if we end up in Brazil? I might need it," Hazel pointed out. "You see, I'm prepared for anything."

"Sounds like you're staying then," Mike noticed. Everybody looked at him, and he changed the subject. "So what're you doing in Cardiff? And who the hell's Jumping Jack Flash? I mean, I don't mind you hanging out with Soulless Samantha over there."

"Oi!" the Hunter exclaimed.

"Listen to yourself," Mike sneered. "But this guy, I don't know, he's kind of -"

"Handsome?" Jack suggested, grinning.

"More like cheesy," Mike corrected, clearly not impressed.

Jack looked to the Hunter. "Queenie, early twenty first century slang. Is cheesy good or bad?"

"It's bad," Mike deadpanned before she could get a word in.

"But bad means good, isn't that right?" Jack shrugged.

"Are you saying I'm not handsome?" the Hunter asked, nudging him.

"You're not handsome, you're beautiful," Jack told her, making her grin.

"We just stopped off," Hazel cut in, seeing Mike looking at them with disgust. "We need to refuel. The thing is, Cardiff's got this rift running through the middle of the city. It's invisible, but it's like an earthquake fault between different dimensions."

"The rift was healed back in 1869," the Hunter continued.

"Thanks to a girl named Gwyneth," Hazel added, "because these creatures called the Gelth, they were using the rift as a gateway, but she saved the world and closed it."

"But closing a rift always leaves a scar," Jack explained, "and that scar generates energy, harmless to the human race -"

The Hunter nodded. "But perfect for the TARDIS, so just park her here for a couple of days right on top of the scar, and -"

"Open up the engines, soak up the radiation," Jack continued.

"Like filling her up with petrol and off we go!" Hazel cheered.

"Into time!" Jack exclaimed.

"And space!" they all shouted together, high-fiving.

Mike just stared at them for a moment. "My God, have you seen yourselves? You all think you're so clever, don't you?"

"Yeah," Hazel nodded.

"Yep!" Jack agreed.

"It does seem to be the general consensus," the Hunter shrugged, leading them out onto Roald Dahl Plass and locking the door behind them. "Should take another twenty four hours, which means we've got time to kill."

"That old lady's staring," Mike noticed.

Jack smirked. "Probably wondering what four people could do inside a small wooden box."

Mike stared at him, looking horrified by the mere suggestion. "What are you captain of, the Innuendo Squad?"

"Well, actually -"

"Jack!" Hazel exclaimed, and they both burst out laughing, the Hunter watching fondly.

"Wait, the TARDIS, we can't just leave it," Mike protested as they started walking away. "Doesn't it get noticed?"

"Yeah, what's with the police box?" Jack asked. "Why does it look like that?"

"It's a cloaking device," Hazel told them.

"It's called a chameleon circuit," the Hunter explained. "The TARDIS is meant to disguise herself wherever she lands, like if this was Ancient Rome, she'd be a statue on a plinth or something. But I landed in the '60s, she disguised herself as a police box, and the circuit got stuck."

"So it copied a real thing?" Mike asked. "There actually was police boxes?"

"Yeah, on street corners," the Hunter nodded. "Phone for help before they had radios and mobiles. If they arrested someone, they could shove them inside till help came, like a little prison cell."

Jack shook his head slightly. That didn't sound too pleasant. "Why don't you just fix the circuit?"

She pouted. "I like it, don't you?"

"I love it," Hazel grinned.

"But that's what I meant," Mike said, pulling the conversation back to him. "There's no police boxes anymore, so doesn't it get noticed?"

The Hunter smiled, standing in front of him with her hands on his shoulders. Despite being an inch or so shorter, she still intimidated him, and he didn't even know the whole of what she could do. "Spike, let me tell you something about the human race. You put a mysterious blue box slap bang in the middle of town, what do they do? Walk past it. Now, stop your nagging. Let's go and explore!" They set off walking again.

"What's the plan?" Hazel asked, looping her arms through both Jack's and the Hunter's.

The Time Lady shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. Cardiff, early twenty first century, and the wind's coming from the east. Trust me. Safest place in the universe."

***

They ended up in a small restaurant on the jetty, where Jack was telling them stories from his previous adventures.

"I swear, six feet tall and with big tusks!" he was saying.

"You're lying through your teeth!" the Hunter accused, laughing.

"I'd have gone bonkers!" Hazel cried, holding onto the table to keep her from falling out of her seat with laughter. "That's the word - bonkers!"

"I mean, it turns out the white things are tusks and I mean tusks!" Jack enthused. "And it's woken, and it's not happy."

"How could you not know it was there?" the Hunter demanded, her eyes wide and filled with happy tears.

"And we're standing there, fifteen of us, naked -"

"Naked?!" Hazel echoed, crying with laughter.

"And I'm like, oh, no, no, it's got nothing to do with me," Jack continued. "And then it roars, and we are running, oh my God, we are running! And Brakovitch falls, so I turn to him and I say -"

"I knew we should've turned left!" Mike cried.

"That's my line!" Jack exclaimed as Hazel burst out laughing all over again.

"I don't believe you!" she sighed, wiping her cheeks. "I don't believe a word you say ever. That is so brilliant! Did you ever get your clothes back?" The Hunter borrowed a newspaper from the next table, her good mood swiftly dissipating.

"No, I just picked him up, went right for the ship, full throttle. Didn't stop until I hit the spacelanes. I was shaking. It was unbelievable. It freaked me out, and by the time I got fifteen light years away I realised I'm like this."

The Hunter sighed disappointedly. "And I was having such a nice day." She showed them the newspaper, the front page of which showed Margaret Blaine as the new Lord Mayor of Cardiff.

***

In the foyer of the City Hall, Jack began to outline what they already knew about Margaret. "According to intelligence, the target is the last surviving member of the Slitheen family, a criminal sect from the planet Raxacoricofallapatorius, masquerading as a human being, zipped inside a skin suit." He nodded. "Okay, plan of attack, we assume a basic fifty seven fifty six strategy, covering all available exits on the ground floor. Queenie, you go face to face. That'll designate Exit One. I'll cover Exit Two. Jules, you're on Exit Three. Mike, you take Exit Four. Have you got that?"

The Hunter raised her eyebrows at him pointedly. "Excuse me. Who's in charge here?"

Jack bit his lip to hide a smile. "Sorry. Awaiting orders, your Majesty."

"Right, here's the plan." She paused, smirking. "Like he said. Nice plan. Anything else?"

"Present arms," Jack ordered. Each of them pulled out a mobile phone, except for the Hunter, who was fixing a Bluetooth unit to her ear.

"Ready," she nodded.

"Ready," Hazel stated.

"Ready," Mike agreed.

"Ready," Jack smiled. "Speed dial?"

"Yep," the Hunter grinned, sonicing the device.

"Ready," Hazel seconded.

"Check," Mike nodded.

Jack flashed a brilliant smile. "See you in hell."

***

The Hunter followed the signs through to the outer area of the Lord Mayor's office, where a young man was sitting at his desk just outside the door. "Hello," she smiled warmly. "I've come to see the Lord Mayor."

"Have you got an appointment?" the young man asked politely.

"No, just an old friend passing by. Bit of a surprise," she grinned. "Can't wait to see her face."

"Well, she's just having a cup of tea," he stated.

"Just go in there and tell her the Hunter would like to see her."

"The Hunter?" he echoed.

"Yeah, it's an inside joke," the Hunter lied. "Tell her exactly that. The Hunter."

"Hang on a tick," the man smiled, and went into the office. The Hunter waited patiently, smirking when she heard a teacup smash on the floor, then smiling politely when the man came back out, looking flustered. "The Lord Mayor says thank you for popping by. She'd love to have a chat, but, er, she's up to her eyes in paperwork. Perhaps if you could make an appointment for next week?"

The Hunter looked at him pityingly. "She's climbing out of the window, isn't she?"

"Yes, she is," he admitted, sighing in relief.

"Slitheen heading north," she reported, pushing past the man, through the office and out onto the balcony.

"On my way," Hazel replied.

"Over and out," Jack agreed.

"Oh my God!" Mike wailed.

"Leave the Lord Mayor alone!" the man cried, trying to pull the Hunter back from following Margaret as she climbed down a ladder on some scaffolding on the side of the building.

The Hunter rolled her eyes. "Oh, come on." She telekinetically threw the man back into the office, locking the balcony behind him. "It's like you're not even trying."

Margaret reached the bottom of the ladder and took off her brooch, starting to run. When she saw Hazel running towards her, she snarled, removing her right earring. Then Jack came running from the opposite direction.

"Margaret!" the Hunter taunted, seeing she was running in the only available direction - across the front of the building. She joined Jack and Hazel at the entrance to the alleyway at the front of the building, seeing Margaret running away from them.

"Who's on Exit Four?" Jack demanded.

"That was Mike!" Hazel supplied.

"Here I am," Mike announced, running out with one foot in a bucket.

"Oh, you pikey," the Hunter scoffed.

"Be fair, she's not exactly going to outrun us, is she?" Hazel pointed out, at which point Margaret vanished.

"She's got a teleport! That's cheating!" Jack complained. "Now we're never going to get her."

"Oh, Artie's very good at teleports," Hazel assured him.

The Hunter buzzed the sonic screwdriver in the direction of Margaret's disappearance, and she reappeared, running towards them. She frowned, turned around and vanished again, but the Hunter just brought her back. The next time she was brought back, she was standing right in front of them, and panting hard. "Do you know, I could actually do this all day," the Hunter remarked conversationally, looking down at Margaret with no pity.

"This is persecution," Margaret accused. "Why can't you leave me alone? What did I ever do to you?"

"You tried to kill me, my friend Hazel here, and destroy the entire planet," the Hunter pointed out bluntly.

Margaret blinked. "Apart from that."

***

"So, you're a Slitheen, you're on Earth, you're trapped," the Hunter mused, leading them into the presentation room of the City Hall, in which the centrepiece was a model of a nuclear power station. "Your family get killed, but you teleport out just in the nick of time. You have no means of escape. What do you do? You build a nuclear power station. But what for?"

"A philanthropic gesture," Margaret shrugged airily. "I've learnt the error of my ways."

The Hunter scoffed. "And it just so happens to be right on top of the rift."

"What rift would that be?" Margaret asked innocently.

"A rift in space and time," Jack answered. "If this power station went into meltdown, the entire planet would go -" He mimed an implosion with his hands, adding the appropriate sound effects.

"This station is designed to explode the minute it reaches capacity," the Hunter stated, looking at the model.

"Didn't anyone notice?" Hazel frowned. "Isn't there someone in London checking this sort of stuff?"

"We're in Cardiff," Margaret deadpanned. "London doesn't care. The South Wales coast could fall into the sea and they wouldn't notice." She made a face. "Oh, I sound like a Welshman. God help me, I've gone native."

"But why would she do that?" Mike asked. "A great big explosion, she'd only end up killing herself."

"She's got a name, you know," Margaret pointed out icily.

"She's not even a she, she's a thing," Mike countered.

"Oh, but she's clever," the Hunter smiled. With her metal hand, she yanked the middle section from the model and turned it over to reveal circuitry. "Fantastic."

"Is that a tribophysical waveform macro-kinetic extrapolator?" Jack asked excitedly.

The Hunter grinned, handing it over. "Couldn't have put it better myself."

"Ooh, genius!" Jack exclaimed. "You didn't build this."

"I have my hobbies," Margaret shrugged. "A little tinkering."

"No, no, no, no," Jack shook his head. "I mean, you really didn't build this. Way beyond you."

"I bet she stole it," Mike accused.

"It fell into my hands," Margaret said defensively.

"Is it a weapon?" Hazel inquired.

"It's transport," Jack told her, grinning. "You see, if the reactor blows, the rift opens. Phenomenal cosmic disaster. But this thing shrouds you in a forcefield. You have this energy bubble, so you're safe." He put the extrapolator on the ground. "Then you feed it co-ordinates, stand on top, and ride the concussion all the way out of the solar system." He stood on top demonstratively.

"It's a surfboard," Mickey realised.

"A pan-dimensional surfboard, yeah," Jack nodded.

"And it would've worked," Margaret grumbled. "I'd have surfed away from this dead end dump and back to civilisation."

Hazel frowned. "Isn't there supposed to be something about meddling kids in there?"

"You'd blow up a whole planet just to get a lift?" Mike asked, wondering why the others weren't too shocked.

"Like stepping on an anthill," Margaret smirked.

"How'd you think of the name?" the Hunter asked. She was looking at one of the banners with an expression of concern.

"What, Blaidd Drwg?" Margaret shrugged. "It's Welsh."

The Hunter rolled her eyes. "I know, but how did you think of it?"

"I chose it at random, that's all. I don't know, it just sounded good. Does it matter?"

"Blaidd Drwg," the Hunter mused, frowning.

"What's it mean?" Hazel asked.

"Bad Wolf," the Time Lady replied.

Hazel flinched, and Jack put his arm around her shoulder's - much to Mike's annoyance. "But I've heard that before. Bad Wolf. I've heard that lots of times."

"Everywhere we go," the Hunter narrowed her eyes. "Two words following us. Bad Wolf."

"How can they be following us?" Hazel whispered.

The Hunter shared a look with Jack, both of them clocking how scared Hazel actually was. "Nah, just a coincidence. Like hearing a word on the radio then hearing it all day. Never mind. Things to do. Margaret, we're going to take you home."

Jack blinked. "Hold on, isn't that the easy option, like letting her go?"

"I don't believe it!" Hazel exclaimed. "We actually get to go to Raxa - wait a minute. Raxacor -"

"Raxacoricofallapatorius," the Hunter told her in amusement.

"Raxacorico -"

"- fallapatorius."

"Raxacoricofallapatorius." Hazel's eyes widened. "That's it! I did it!" She and the Hunter hugged in celebration.

"They have the death penalty," Margaret cut in, ruining the ambience. "The family Slitheen was tried in its absence many years ago, and found guilty with no chance of appeal. According to the statutes of government, the moment I return, I am to be executed. What do you make of that, Hunter? Take me home and you take me to my death."

The Hunter regarded her coldly with those steely blue eyes. "That sounds like a not me problem."

***

Night had fallen by the time they got Margaret to the TARDIS.

"This ship is impossible," she exclaimed as Hazel shut the door behind them. "It's superb. How do you get the outside around the inside?"

"Like I'd give you the secret," the Hunter scoffed.

"I almost feel better about being defeated," Margaret admitted. "I never stood a chance. This is the technology of the gods."

The Hunter smirked. "Well, now you mention it..." She turned her attention to the extrapolator. "Jack, how's it going?"

"This extrapolator's top of the range," he told her, glancing up at Margaret. "Where did you get it?"

"Oh, I don't know. Some airlock sale?"

"Must have been a great big heist," Jack translated. "It's stacked with power."

"But we can use it for fuel?" the Hunter asked.

"It's not compatible, but it should knock off about twelve hours," Jack nodded. "We'll be ready to go by morning."

She sighed, but nodded. "Then we're stuck here overnight."

"I'm in no hurry," Margaret piped up.

Hazel smirked, sitting cross-legged on the jump seat. "We've got a prisoner. The police box really is a police box."

"You're not just police, though," Margaret pointed out. "Since you're taking me to my death, that makes you my executioners. Each and every one of you."

"Well, you deserve it," Mike shrugged.

"You're very quick to say so," Margaret noticed. "You're very quick to soak your hands in my blood, which makes you better than me how, exactly? Long night ahead. Let's see who can look me in the eye."

Mickey looked away before she even met his eyes, and neither Hazel nor Jack held her gaze for more than a few seconds. When she looked to the Hunter, though, she gasped, seeing the woman casually making several paperweights float about her head with her metal arm.

"You're a -!"

"A what?" the Hunter asked, smirking. "A mutant Time Lord? Now, now, Maggie, don't be a bitch. You're hardly my first dead body. How's about you sit down and shut up?" Stunned, Margaret did so.

***

"It's freezing out here," Hazel complained as she joined Mike outside the TARDIS, keeping her hands cosy in her hoodie pocket.

"Better than in there," Mike huffed. "She does deserve it. She's a Slitheen. I don't care. It's just weird in that box."

"I didn't really need the passport," Hazel confessed. "Or the IDs."

Mike smiled. "I've been thinking, you know, we could go have a drink. Have a pizza or something. Just you and me."

"I guess," Hazel shrugged. He was still her friend, she just didn't want to deal with the awkward 'are you staying' crap.

"And I mean, if the TARDIS can't leave until morning, we could go to a hotel, spend the night." Hazel raised her eyebrows incredulously, and he backtracked. "I mean, if you want to. I've got some money."

"Mike, can I ask you a question?" Hazel bit her lip.

"Sure, what's up?"

"Are you seriously still labouring under the impression that I'm straight?" Mike blinked, and she laughed. "Oh, come on! How many times have I told you? It's been four years!"

"Oh, shut up!" he complained, not meeting her eyes. "Of course I knew. I just... You never know."

She narrowed her eyes. "What part of not attracted to men are you not getting?"

"Well, you know, I'm different," he shrugged. "I'm your mate."

"Yeah, and I'm gay," she stressed, raising her eyebrows.

He rolled his eyes. "Whatever. There's a couple bars around here. We should give them a go, you know, before we go for pizza." He saw her glance back at the TARDIS. "Do you have to go and tell her?"

She shook her head. "She knows."

***

Inside the TARDIS, the Hunter shook her head, watching them walk away on the monitor.

"What?" Jack asked, coming to see.

"He's trying so hard to get in there," she told him, snorting. "It's pitiful."

"Does he know she's gay?" Jack frowned.

"Oh, yeah," the Hunter nodded. "She says she's been telling him for four years."

"What a dick," Jack muttered.

"I gather it's not always like this, having to wait. I bet you're always the first to leave, Hunter. Never mind the consequences, off you go. You butchered my family and then ran for the stars, am I right? But not this time," Margaret smirked. "At last you have consequences. How does it feel?"

The Hunter scoffed. "I didn't butcher them."

"Don't answer back," Jack complained. "You know that's what she wants."

"Well, I didn't," she shrugged, before turning back to Margaret. "What about you? You had an emergency teleport. You didn't zap them to safety, did you?"

"It only carries one," Margaret explained. "I had to fly without co-ordinates. I ended up on a skip in the Isle of Dogs." Jack and the Hunter snorted. "It wasn't funny!"

"Sorry," the Hunter apologised, then snickered. "It is a bit funny."

Margaret rolled her eyes tiresomely. "Do I get a last request?"

"Depends what it is," the Hunter shrugged.

"I grew quite fond of my little human life," Margaret admitted. "All those rituals. The brushing of the teeth, and the complicated way they cook things. There's a little restaurant just round the Bay. It became quite a favourite of mine."

The Hunter frowned. "Is that was you want, a last meal?"

"Don't I have rights?" she pleaded.

Jack scoffed. "Oh, like she's not going to try to escape."

"Except I can never escape the Hunter, so where's the danger?" Margaret shot back, before looking to the Hunter. "I wonder if you could do it? To sit with a creature you're about to kill and take supper. How strong is your stomach?"

"Strong enough," the Hunter assured her.

"I wonder," Margaret mused. "I've seen you fight your enemies, now dine with them."

The Time Lady snorted. "You won't change my mind."

"Prove it," the Raxacoricofallapatorian snarled.

"There are people out there," the Hunter pointed out. And Hazel. "If you slip away just for one second, they'll be in danger."

"Except I've got these," Jack stated, holding up two bangles. "You both wear one. If she moves more than ten feet away, she gets zapped by ten thousand volts."

The Hunter eyed them. "Do I even want to know?"

"Not in the slightest," Jack promised, smirking.

She rolled her eyes, smiling, then turned to their captive. "Margaret, would you like to come out to dinner? My treat."

Margaret smirked. "Dinner in bondage. Works for me."

***

"Here we are, out on a date, and you haven't even asked my proper name," Margaret sighed as they settled in their chairs, the Hunter grabbing a menu.

She rolled her eyes. "It's not a date. What's your name?"

"Blon," Margaret replied. "I am Blon Fel Fotch Pasameer-Day Slitheen. That's what it'll say on my death certificate."

The Hunter smiled politely. "Nice to meet you, Blon."

"I'm sure." Margaret pointed towards the window. "Look, that's where I was living as Margaret. nice little flat, over there, on the top. Next to the one with the light on." The Hunter turned to look, and Margaret emptied powder from her ring into her wine glass. "Two bedrooms, bayside view. I was rather content. Don't suppose I'll see it again."

The Hunter turned back around, eyed Margaret, then swapped the glasses. "Suppose not."

"Thank you."

"Pleasure."

"Tell me then, Hunter. What do you know of our species?" Margaret wondered.

"Only what I've seen," the Time Lady replied, looking at the menu.

"Did you know, for example, in extreme cases, when her life is in danger, a female Raxacoricofallapatorian can manufacture a poison dart within her own finger?" She shot the dart, and the Hunter crushed it between metal fingers without looking up.

"Yes, I did."

"Just checking." Margaret leaned forwards. "And one more thing. Between you and me." The Hunter leaned forwards too. "As a final resort, the excess poison can be exhaled through the lungs." Margaret made to exhale, but the Hunter spritzed a breath freshener in her mouth.

"That's better," she grinned, before going back to her menu. "Now then, what do you think? Mmm, steak looks nice. Steak and chips."

***

Hazel and Mike had been to a few of the bars and were now leaning against the railings on Mermaid Quay. "The Hunter took me to this planet a while back," Hazel was saying. "It was much colder than this. They called it Woman Wept. The planet was actually called Woman Wept, because if you looked at it, right, from above, there's like this huge continent, all curved round. It sort of looked like a woman, you know, lamenting. Oh my God, and we went to this beach, right. No people, no buildings, just this beach like a thousand miles across. And something had happened, something to do with the sun, I don't know, but the sea had just frozen. In a split second, in the middle of a storm, right, waves and foam, just frozen, all the way out to the horizon. Midnight, right, we walk underneath these waves a hundred feet tall, made of ice." She smiled at the memory.

"I'm going out with Trisha Delaney," Mike blurted.

"Right," Hazel said, blinking. "Okay. That's nice. Trisha from the shop?"

"Yeah, Rob Delaney's sister," Mike clarified.

"Well, she's nice," Hazel nodded. "I thought you said you'd never date her."

"She lost weight," he shrugged. "You've been away."

"Well, good for you. She's nice," Hazel smiled.

"So tell us a bit more about this planet, then," he requested.

She shook her head, blowing out a breath. "That was it, really." No way was she telling him the stuff the Hunter had confided in her that day.

***

"Public execution's a slow death," Margaret stated conversationally as their steaks arrived. "They prepare a thin acetic acid, lower me into the cauldron and boil me. The acidity is perfectly gauged to strip away the skin. Internal organs fall out into the liquid, and I become soup. And still alive, still screaming."

"I don't make the law," the Hunter shrugged, stabbing a chip with her fork.

"But you deliver it," Margaret pointed out. "Will you stay to watch?"

The Hunter sighed. "What else can I do?"

"The Slitheen family's huge. There's a lot more of us, all scattered off-world. Take me to them," Margaret pleaded. "Take me somewhere safe."

"Yeah, and you'll just start again," the Hunter deadpanned.

"I promise I won't," Margaret stated hopefully.

The Hunter shook her head, scoffing. "You've been in that skin suit too long. You've forgotten. There used to be a real Margaret Blaine. You killed her and stripped her and used the skin. You're pleading for mercy out of a dead woman's lips."

"Perhaps I have got used to it," Margaret sighed. "A human life, an ordinary life. That's all I'm asking. Give me a chance, Hunter. I can change."

"I don't believe you," the Hunter stated, cutting into her steak.

***

"So, what do you want to do now?" Mike asked.

Hazel shrugged. "Don't mind."

"We could ask about hotels," he suggested.

"I'm just as gay as I was an hour ago," she rolled her eyes. "'Sides, what would Trisha Delaney say?"

"Suppose," Mike sighed. "There's a bar down there with a Spanish name or something -"

"You're not dating Trisha Delaney!" Hazel interrupted.

"Oh, is that right?" Mike scowled. "What the hell do you know?"

"I saw her three days ago cradling her firstborn child!" Hazel shot back, remembering when she'd got takeaway for herself, the Hunter, and Jack. "So who the hell do you think you're kidding?"

"At least I know where she is!" Mike shouted.

Hazel scoffed, shaking her head. "There we are, then. It's got nothing to do with Trisha. This is about me again, isn't it -?"

"You left me!" Mike cut her off. "We were nice, we were happy. And then what? You run off with her and you make me feel like nothing, Hazel. I was nothing. I can't even go out with a stupid girl from a shop because you pick up the phone and I come running. I mean, is that what I am, Hazel, standby? Am I just supposed to sit here for the rest of my life, waiting for you? Because I will."

Hazel stepped back, her eyes wide. "I'm... sorry?"

***

"I promise you I've changed since we last met, Hunter," Margaret implored. "There was this girl, just today. A young thing, something of a danger. She was getting too close. I felt the bloodlust rising, just as the family taught me. I was going to kill her without a thought. And then I stopped. She's alive somewhere right now. She's walking around this city because I can change. I did change. I know I can't prove it -"

"I believe you," the Hunter cut her off.

"Then you know I'm capable of better."

She shook her head. "It doesn't mean anything."

"I spared her life!" Margaret protested.

"You let one of them go, but that's nothing new," the Hunter shrugged. "Every now and then, a little victim's spared because she smiled, because he's got freckles, because they begged. And that's how you live with yourself. That's how you slaughter millions. Because once in a while, on a whim, if the wind's in the right direction, you happen to be kind."

"Only a killer would know that," Margaret accused, making the Hunter roll her eyes. "Is that right? From what I've seen, your funny little happy go lucky life leaves devastation in its wake. Always moving on because you dare not look back. Playing with so many people's lives, you might as well be a god. And you're right, Hunter. You're absolutely right. Sometimes you let one go. Let me go," she pleaded.

***

"I'm not asking you to leave her, because I know that's not fair," Mike said. "But I just need something, yeah? Some sort of promise that when you do come back, you're coming back for me."

There was a deep rumble in the distance, and Hazel looked up, frowning. "Is that thunder?"

"Does it matter?" Mike huffed, exasperated.

"That's not thunder," Hazel realised, hearing it again.

***

"In the family Slitheen, we had no choice," Margaret explained. "I was made to carry out my first kill at thirteen. If I'd refused, my father would have fed me to the Venom Grubs. If I'm a killer, it's because I was born to kill. It's all I know." She huffed impatiently as the Hunter looked around, frowning.

"Can you hear that?"

"I'm begging for my life, you could at least pretend to listen," Margaret complained.

"No, listen, shush," the Hunter muttered, pointing to her empty wine glass, which was vibrating. Suddenly the windows shattered, and the customers started screaming.

***

People outside ran cover as windows and street lights exploded. Hazel made a decision, running towards Roald Dahl Plass.

"Oh go on then, run! It's her again, isn't it? It's the Hunter! It's always the Hunter! It's always going to be the Hunter! It's never me!" Mike shouted bitterly.

Hazel turned on him. "Yeah, because she and Jack, they're more my family than you ever were. You call me when you've decided you're going to accept us." Then she turned her back on him and ran for the TARDIS.

***

Margaret wheezed as they ran across Roald Dahl Plass, tugging on the Hunter's arm. "The handcuffs!"

She rolled her eyes and took them off, depositing them in her back pocket. "Don't think you're running away."

"Oh, I'm sticking with you," Margaret assured her. "Some date this turned out to be!"

The Hunter's eyes widened when she saw the blue energy streaming up from the TARDIS into the sky. "It's the rift. The rift's opening." She ran in, Margaret close on her heels. "What's happening?" she demanded, seeing things sparking and almost exploding on the console.

"She just went crazy!" Jack called from under the grating, poking his head up from where he was working.

"It's the rift," she told him, trying to stop the explosions from the console. "Time and space are ripping apart. The whole city's going to disappear!"

"It's the extrapolator!" Jack exclaimed, climbing up to her level. "I've disconnected it, but it's still feeding off the engine. It's using the TARDIS. I can't stop it!"

"Never mind Cardiff," the Hunter bit her lip, her eyes wide. "It's going to rip open the planet!"

"What is it?" Hazel questioned as she ran in. "What's happening?"

"Oh, just little me," Margaret smirked, ripping the arm of her suit so she could grab Hazel around the neck with one of her talons. "One wrong move and she snaps like a promise."

The Hunter scowled. "I might've known."

"I've had you bleating all night, poor baby, now shut it," Margaret snapped. "You, fly boy, put the extrapolator at my feet." She tightened her grip on Hazel's neck, making the girl gasp. The Hunter nodded, her eyes on Hazel, and Jack did as ordered. "Thank you. Just as I planned."

"I thought you needed to blow up the nuclear power station," Hazel croaked.

"Failing that, if I were to be arrested, then anyone capable of tracking me down would have considerable technology of their own. Therefore, they would be captivated by the extrapolator. Especially a magpie mind like yours, Hunter," Margaret smirked. "So, the extrapolator was programmed to go to plan B, to lock onto the nearest alien power source and open the rift. And what a power source it found. I'm back on schedule, thanks to you."

"The rift's going to convulse," Jack realised. "You'll destroy the whole planet."

"And you with it!" Margaret cackled, stepping onto the extrapolator. "While I ride this board over the crest of the inferno all the way to freedom. Stand back. Surf's up."

The TARDIS console cracked open, and a bright light hit Margaret and Hazel, making the girl screw her eyes tightly shut.

"Of course, opening the rift means you'll pull this ship apart," the Hunter pointed out, leaning against one of the coral structures.

"So sue me," Margaret snapped.

"She's not just any old power source. She's the TARDIS. My TARDIS. The best ship in the universe," the Hunter said proudly.

"It'll make wonderful scrap."

"What's that light?" Hazel asked, wincing.

"The heart of the TARDIS," the Hunter replied. "This ship's alive. You've opened her soul. And she really has got a soft spot for our Hazel."

"It's so bright," Margaret whispered.

"Look at it, Margaret," the Hunter encouraged.

"Beautiful..."

"Look inside, Blon Fel Fotch. Look at the light."

Margaret relaxed, allowing Hazel to get free, rushing to Jack's side. "Thank you," Margaret smiled, then disappeared into the light, her bodysuit crumpling atop the extrapolator.

The Hunter moved immediately. "Don't look. Stay there. Close your eyes!" She closed the console up. "Now, Jack, come on, shut it all down. Shut down! Haze, that panel over there, turn all the switches to the right." The turbulence and the sparks stopped as the TARDIS settled, and she sighed in relief. "Nicely done. Thanks."

"What happened to Margaret?" Hazel wondered.

"Must've got burnt up," Jack guessed. "Carried out her own death sentence."

"No, I don't think she's dead," the Hunter shook her head.

Hazel frowned, rubbing her neck and wincing. "Then where'd she go?"

"She looked into the heart of the TARDIS. Even I don't know how strong that is. And the ship's telepathic, like I told you, Haze." The Hunter glanced over at her, flashing a smile. "Gets inside your head. Translates alien languages. Maybe the raw energy can translate all sorts of thoughts." She knelt by the skin suit and pulled out a large egg with dreadlocks. "Here she is."

"She's an egg?" Hazel frowned.

"Regressed to her childhood," the Hunter nodded.

"She's an egg?" Jack echoed.

"She can start again," the Hunter pointed out. "Live her life from scratch. If we take her home, give her to a different family, tell them to bring her up properly, she might be all right!"

"Or she might be worse," Jack suggested.

"That's her choice, Mr Pessimism."

"She's an egg," Hazel repeated.

"She's an egg," the Hunter agreed, smiling.

"Oh my God, Mike!" Hazel realised, getting to her feet and sprinting out the door.

***

The Hunter and Jack shared a look when she returned not five minutes later, looking dejected. "We're all powered up," the Hunter told her, making her look up. "We can leave. Opening the rift filled us up with energy. We can go, if that's all right."

"Yeah, fine," she nodded.

"How's Mike?" the Hunter asked carefully.

"He's okay. He's gone," Hazel muttered.

"Do you want to go and find him?" the Hunter offered. "We'll wait."

Hazel took a deep breath, then smiled, shaking her head. "No need."

"Off we go, then. Always moving on."

"Next stop, Raxacoricofallapatorius," Jack smiled, then nudged Hazel. "Now you don't often get to say that."

"We'll just stop by and pop her in the hatchery," the Hunter said, setting about flying them there. "Margaret the Slitheen can live her life again. A second chance."

Hazel smiled sadly, gripping the railings as they set off. "That'd be nice."

~~~

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thedoctorcried · 3 years

Text

Runaway - Part Thirteen

~Masterlist~

Warnings: swearing, follows S1 of Doctor Who.

It wasn't until the patients were almost within touching distance that the Hunter had the idea. "Go to your room," she ordered, trying to sound angry rather than scared. The patients stood still, and she smiled victoriously. "Go to your room. I mean it. I'm very, very angry with you. I am very, very cross. Go to your room!" The patients hung their head and shuffled back to their beds.

"Wow," Hazel muttered.

"I'm really glad that worked," the Hunter admitted, sighing in relief. "Those would have been terrible last words."

Hazel snorted. "Why are they all wearing gas masks?"

"They're not," Jack told her. "Those masks are flesh and bone." She made a face.

"How was your con supposed to work?" the Hunter asked curiously.

"Simple enough, really," Jack stated. "Find some harmless piece of space junk, let the nearest Time Agent track it back to Earth, convince him it's valuable, name a price. When he's put fifty percent up front, oops! A German bomb falls on it, destroys it forever. He never gets to see what he's paid for, never knows he's been had. I buy him a drink with his own money, and we discuss dumb luck. The perfect self-cleaning con."

The Hunter raised an eyebrow cynically. "Yeah. Perfect."

"The London Blitz is great for self-cleaners," Jack nodded. "Pompeii's nice if you want to make a vacation of it, but you've got to set your alarm for volcano day." He winced, seeing the Hunter's narrowed eyes. "Getting a hint of disapproval, Queenie."

"Take a look around the room," the Hunter suggested. "This is what your harmless piece of space-junk did."

"It was a burnt-out medical transporter," Jack protested. "It was empty."

"Hazel." The Hunter beckoned her over from where she was looking at the gas masks with a mixture of disgust and curiosity.

"Are we getting out of here?" she asked.

"We're going upstairs," the Hunter told her, smirking.

"I even programmed the flight computer so it wouldn't land on anything living," Jack continued. "I harmed no one. I don't know what's happening here, but believe me, I had nothing to do with it."

"I'll tell you what's happening," the Hunter scoffed. "You forgot to set your alarm clock. It's volcano day."

A siren sounded, making Hazel jumped. "What's that?"

"The all clear," Jack answered. He'd been here long enough to recognise it by ear.

"I wish," the Hunter muttered, heading for the stairs.

***

Later, Jack and Hazel were running along a corridor trying to find the Hunter after she'd pulled a vanishing trick.

"Queenie?" Jack called, smirking.

Hazel rolled her eyes. "Artie?"

The Hunter poked her head down from the next floor. "Have you got a blaster?"

"Sure," Jack nodded, and they ran up to her.

"The night your space-junk landed, someone was hurt," the Hunter explained. "This was where they were taken."

"What happened?" Hazel asked.

The Hunter shrugged. "Let's find out. Get it open."

Hazel frowned. "What's wrong with your sonic screwdriver?"

"Nothing," the Hunter said, not meeting her eyes. Hazel smirked. Did the Hunter actually like Jack? The lock swiftly disintegrated as Jack used his blaster on it, and the Hunter smiled, recognising it. "Sonic blaster, fifty first century. Weapon factories of Villengard?"

"You've been to the factories?" Jack asked, surprised.

"Once," she admitted.

"Well, they're gone now, destroyed," Jack told her. "The main reactor went critical. Vaporised the lot."

The Hunter smirked. "Like I said, once. There's a banana grove there now. I like bananas. Bananas are good."

"Nice blast pattern," Hazel complimented as the Hunter went inside the room.

"Digital," he told her.

"Squareness gun?" she guessed.

"Yeah."

She smiled. "I like it."

They followed the Hunter into a messy room with a broken observation window and electronic equipment.

"What do you think?" the Hunter asked, glancing up as they entered.

Jack whistled. "Something got out of here."

"Yeah. And?"

"Something powerful. Angry."

"Powerful and angry," the Hunter nodded.

Jack crouched, seeing a child's crayon drawings scattered across the floor, as well as a teddy bear in the corner. "A child? I suppose this explains 'Mummy'."

"How could a child do this?" Hazel frowned, looking around at the destruction that had been wreaked on the room.

The Hunter turned on a tape machine, one of the only things left undamaged.

"Do you know where you are?" Dr Constantine asked on the recording.

"Are you my mummy?"

"Are you aware of what's around you? Can you see?"

"Are you my mummy?"

"What do you want? Do you know -?"

"I want my mummy. Are you my mummy? I want my mummy! Are you my mummy? Are you my mummy? Mummy? Mummy?"

"Artie, I've heard this voice before," Hazel frowned, remembering the child she'd tried to rescue from the roof, wearing a gas mask on his face.

"Me too," the Hunter nodded.

"Mummy?"

"Always 'are you my mummy?', like he doesn't know," Hazel noticed.

"Mummy?"

"Why doesn't he know?"

"Are you there, mummy? Mummy? Mummy? Please, mummy? Mummy?"

"Artie?" Hazel asked, seeing the woman had her metal hand outstretched towards the wall, not quite touching it.

"Can you sense it?" she asked.

"Sense what?" Jack narrowed his eyes.

"Coming out of the walls. Can you feel it?" she wondered.

"Mummy?"

She snorted. "Funny little human brains. How do you get around in those things?"

Hazel rolled her eyes. "When she's stressed, she likes to insult species," she told Jack.

"Haze, I'm thinking."

"Seriously, it's her favourite thing."

"There are these children living rough around the bomb sites," the Hunter began. "They come out during air raids looking for food."

"Mummy, please?"

"Suppose they were there when this thing, whatever it was, landed?"

Jack sighed. This again? "It was a med-ship. It was harmless."

"Yes, you keep saying harmless," the Hunter noticed. "Suppose one of them was affected, altered?"

"Altered how?" Hazel asked.

"I'm here."

The Hunter closed her eyes, cursing herself for not realising sooner. "It's afraid. Terribly afraid and powerful. It doesn't know it yet, but it will do. It's got the power of a god, and I just sent it to its room."

"Artie," Hazel frowned.

"I'm here. Can't you see me?"

"What's that noise?"

"End of the tape," the Hunter replied. "It ran out about thirty seconds ago."

"I'm here, now. Can't you see me?"

"I sent it to its room. This is its room," she explained.

The child stepped into the doorway. "Are you my mummy? Mummy?"

"Artie?" Hazel had frozen, watching the child.

"Okay, Jules, Queenie, on my signal make for the door," Jack ordered.

"Don't call me that," the Hunter muttered.

"Mummy?"

"Now!" Jack pointed... a banana?... at the child.

"Mummy?"

Grinning, the Hunter used Jack's blaster to make a square hole in the wall. "Go, now! Don't drop the banana!"

"Why not?!" Jack demanded, his eyes wide as they escaped through the wall.

"Good source of potassium?" the Hunter shrugged.

He rolled his eyes. "Give me that!" He used the blaster to repair the hole in the wall, then handed the banana back. "Digital rewind. Nice switch."

"It's from the groves of Villengard. I thought it was appropriate," the Hunter explained.

Jack blinked. "There's really a banana grove in the heart of Villengard and you did that?"

The Hunter shrugged again, grinning. "What? Bananas are good."

"Artie!" Hazel cried, seeing the wall starting to crack.

"Come on!" The Hunter started leading them down the corridor, only to find patients coming at them from both directions.

"Mummy. Mummy. Mummy."

She swore. "It's keeping us here till it can get at us."

"It's controlling them?" Jack asked.

"It is them," the Hunter corrected. "It's every living thing in this hospital except us."

"Okay," Jack lifted his sonic blaster. "This can function as a sonic blaster, a sonic cannon, and as a triple-enfolded sonic disrupter. Queenie, what you got?"

"I've got a sonic screwdriver," she replied.

"A sonic screwdriver?" Jack turned to her incredulously, for a moment forgetting the patients all around them.

"Yes, a sonic screwdriver!"

The child broke through the wall, and Hazel grabbed Jack's hand, forcing the blaster to aim at the floor. "Going down!" she called, firing, and the floor disappeared beneath them, sending them falling through to the ward below. Jack immediately got up and repaired the ceiling. "Artie, you okay?" Hazel checked.

She groaned. "Could've used a warning."

Hazel shrugged. "I said 'going down'."

"Well, you know, usually I have a bit longer than a split-second to prepare before falling through the ceiling," the Hunter told her, rolling her eyes.

"Who has a sonic screwdriver?" Jack frowned as Hazel went to the wall to try and find a light switch.

"I do," the Hunter said indignantly.

"Who looks at a screwdriver and thinks, ooh, this could be a little more sonic?" Jack scoffed.

"There's got to be a light switch," Hazel muttered, ignoring them.

The Hunter snorted. "What, you've never been bored? Never had a long night? Never had a lot of cabinets to put up? Have you ever even been to Ikea? You can't just use a normal screwdriver for those bloody things!" She cut off as Hazel switched the lights on, making the patients sit up in their beds.

"Mummy. Mummy."

"Door," Jack muttered, trying to unlock it with his blaster, but it didn't work. "Damn it!"

"Mummy."

"It's the special features," Jack complained as the Hunter - very smugly - used her sonic screwdriver to get them through the door and into a storeroom. "They really drain the battery."

"The battery?" Hazel frowned. "That's so lame!"

"I was going to send for another one, but somebody's got to blow up the factory," Jack stated pointedly. The Hunter rolled her eyes as she locked the door.

"Oh, I know," Hazel agreed, grinning. "First day I met her, she blew up a department store! It's practically how she communicates."

"Okay, that door should hold it for a bit," the Hunter decided.

"The door?" Jack echoed. "The wall didn't stop it!"

"Well, it's got to find us first," she reminded him. "Come on, we're not done yet! Assets, assets!"

"Well, I've got a banana, and in a pinch you could put up some shelves," Jack told her sarcastically.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "Window?"

"Barred. Sheer drop outside. Seven stories," he reported.

"And no other exits," Hazel added.

Jack laughed humourlessly. "Well, the assets conversation went in a flash, didn't it?"

The Hunter sat on the window ledge. "So, where'd you pick this one up, then?"

"Artie!" Hazel whined.

Jack smirked. "She was hanging from a barrage balloon, I had an invisible spaceship. I never stood a chance."

"Okay," she nodded, putting out her hand to count off her fingers. "One, we've got to get out of here. Two, we can't get out of here. Have I missed anything?"

"Yeah," Hazel nodded. "Jack just disappeared." The Hunter sighed. "Okay, so he's vanished into thin air. Why is it always the fit ones who do that?"

"I'm making an effort not to be insulted over here," the Hunter mentioned, raising an eyebrow.

"I mean, men," Hazel clarified.

The Hunter smiled. "That's better."

The radio crackled into life. "Jules? Queenie? Can you hear me? I'm back on my ship." It was Jack's slightly sheepish voice. "Used the emergency teleport. Sorry I couldn't take you, it's security-keyed to my molecular structure. I'm working on it. Hang in there."

"How're you speaking to us?" the Hunter asked, curious.

"Om-Com," Jack replied. "I can call anything with a speaker grill."

"Now there's a coincidence," the Hunter realised.

"What is?" Jack asked.

"The child can Om-Com, too," she told him.

Hazel blinked. "He can?"

The Hunter nodded. "Anything with a speaker grill. Even the TARDIS phone."

"What, you mean the child can phone us?" Hazel frowned. That was kind of creepy.

"And I can hear you," the child's voice sang. "Coming to find you. Coming to find you."

"Queenie, can you hear that?" Jack asked.

"Loud and clear," the Hunter replied.

"I'll try to block out the signal. Least I can do," he offered.

"Coming to find you, mummy."

"Remember this one, Jules?" Moonlight Serenade came on through the radio.

Hazel rolled her eyes at the Hunter's curious look. "Our song."

***

A while later, Hazel had found herself a wheelchair to relax in while watching as the Hunter soniced the barred window. "What are you doing?" she asked curiously.

"Trying to set up a resonation pattern in the concrete," the Hunter answered, not looking round, "loosen the bars."

"You don't think he's coming back, do you?" Hazel guessed.

"Wouldn't bet my life," the Hunter admitted.

Hazel frowned. "Why don't you trust him?"

"Why do you?" the Hunter countered.

"He saved my life," Hazel pointed out. "That's pretty persuasive. I trust him because he's like you. Except with dating and dancing." The Hunter looked at her oddly. "What?"

"You just assume I -" She cut herself off, shaking her head.

"What?" Hazel asked.

"You just assume that I don't dance," the Hunter shrugged.

Hazel blinked. "What, you're telling me you do dance?"

"Nine hundred years old, me," the Hunter pointed out. "I've been around a bit. I think you can assume at some point I've danced."

"You?"

"Problem?"

Hazel smirked. "Doesn't the universe implode or something if you dance?"

The Hunter snorted. "Well, I wouldn't want to boast."

"You can dance? Dance with me," Hazel challenged, turning up the radio so that Moonlight Serenade filled the room.

The Hunter smiled a little, shaking her head. "Haze, I'm trying to resonate concrete."

"Jack'll be back. He'll get us out. So come on." Hazel held out her hands. "The world doesn't end because the Hunter dances." She smiled victoriously as the Hunter put her sonic away and climbed off the table, taking her hands.

"Barrage balloon?" the Time Lady frowned.

"What?" Hazel blinked.

"You were hanging from a barrage balloon."

"Oh, yeah," she said, like it was no big deal. "About two minutes after you left me. Thousands of feet above London, middle of a German air raid, Union Flag all over my chest."

The Hunter smirked. "I've travelled with a lot of people, but you're setting new records for jeopardy friendly."

"Is this you dancing?" Hazel teased. "Because I've got notes."

"Hanging from a rope thousands of feet above London," the Hunter mused, brushing her thumbs across Hazel's palms. "Not a cut, not a bruise."

"Yeah, I know. Captain Jack fixed me up," Hazel shrugged.

The Hunter raised an eyebrow, smiling. "Oh, we're calling him Captain Jack now, are we?"

Hazel rolled her eyes. "Well, his name's Jack and he's a Captain."

"He's not really a Captain, Haze."

"Yeah, well, I'm pretty sure you're not actually working for the Ministry of Asteroids but there we go," Hazel shot back, grinning. "Do you know what I think? I think you're experiencing Captain Envy. You'll find your feet at the end of your legs. You may care to move them."

The Hunter sighed, smiling. "If ever he was a Captain, he's been defrocked."

"Yeah? Wouldn't have minded seeing that," Hazel stated, then laughed at the Hunter's expression.

"Actually, I quit," Jack cut in. "Nobody takes my frock." He smirked as the girls looked around, surprised. "Most people noticed when they've been teleported. You guys are so sweet. Sorry about the delay. I had to take the nav-com offline to override the teleport security."

The Hunter raised her eyebrows, dropping Hazel's hands to look around the ship. "You can spend ten minutes overriding your own protocols? Maybe you should remember whose ship it is."

"Oh, I do," Jack promised. "She was gorgeous. Like I told her, be back in five minutes."

"This is a Chula ship," the Hunter identified.

"Yeah, just like that medical transporter," Jack nodded as he was leaving the room. "Only this one is dangerous."

Hazel watched as the Hunter snapped her fingers, making a familiar golden glow envelop her hands. "They're what fixed my hands up. Jack called them... er..."

"Nanobots?" the Hunter guessed. "Nanogenes?"

"Nanogenes, yeah," Hazel agreed.

"Sub-atomic robots," the Hunter nodded. "There's millions of them in here, see? Burned my hand on the console when we landed. All better now. They activate when the bulk head's sealed. Check you out for damage, fix any physical flaws." She looked at Jack as he returned. "Take us to crash site. I need to see your space junk."

"Kinky," Hazel muttered.

"As soon as I get the nav-con back online," Jack nodded. "Make yourself comfortable." He smirked. "Carry on with whatever it was you were doing."

"We were talking about dancing," the Hunter told him, rolling her eyes.

"It didn't look like talking," Jack raised his eyebrows.

"It didn't feel like dancing," Hazel countered. They high-fived. The Hunter went off exploring the ship, muttering to herself about 'cheeky humans'. "So, you used to be a Time Agent, now you're trying to con them?"

"If it makes me sound any better, it's not for the money," Jack told her.

She settled into the co-pilot seat. "What for, then?"

Jack shrugged. "Woke up one day when I was still working for them, found they'd stolen two years of my memories. I'd like them back."

"They stole your memories?" Hazel echoed, her eyes wide.

"Two years of my life," Jack confirmed. "No idea what I did. Your friend doesn't trust me, and for all I know, she's right not to." He looked up as the Hunter entered, looking bored. "Okay, we're good to go. Crash site?"

***

"There it is," Jack pointed as they stood at the top of a hill overlooking the crash site. "Hey, they've got Algy on duty. It must be important."

"We've got to get past him," the Hunter muttered.

Hazel smirked. "Are the words 'distract the guard' heading in my general direction?"

"I don't think that'd be such a good idea," Jack stated.

"He doesn't have to be my type for me to flirt with him," Hazel pointed out. "There are too many straight people movies for me to not know how."

"I've got to know Algy quite well since I've been in town," Jack smirked. "Trust me, you're not his type either. I'll distract him. Don't wait up." He started off down the hill, Hazel watching him go.

"Relax," the Hunter smiled. "He's a fifty first century guy. He's just a bit more flexible when it comes to dancing."

"How flexible?" Hazel asked curiously.

"Well, by his time, you lot have spread out across half the galaxy," the Hunter informed her.

"Meaning?"

She smirked. "So many species, so little time."

"What, that's what we do when we get out there?" Hazel snorted. "That's our mission? We seek new life, and - and..."

"Dance," the Hunter finished simply, grinning.

***

"Hey, tiger," Jack greeted, jogging up to Algy. "How's it hanging?"

"Mummy?"

Jack blinked. "Algy, old sport, it's me."

"Mummy?"

"It's me, Jack."

"Jack? Are you my mummy?" Algy started to retch, falling to his knees as his face morphed into a gas mask.

The Hunter and Hazel ran forwards from where they'd been hiding. "Stay back!"

"You men, stay away!" Jack ordered, his familiarity with the soldiers giving him authority.

"The effect's become air-borne, accelerating," the Hunter realised, glancing up as the air raid siren started up.

"What's keeping us safe?" Hazel asked.

The Hunter shared a glance with her. "Nothing."

"Here they come again," Jack muttered, seeing the German planes approaching in the distance.

"All we need," Hazel sighed, then frowned. "Didn't you say a bomb was going to land here?"

"Never mind about that," the Hunter shook her head, her eyes wide. "If the contaminant's airborne now, there's hours left."

"For what?" Jack asked, narrowing his eyes.

"Till nothing, forever. For the entire human race," she replied, then stopped short, blinking. "Can anyone else hear singing?" They followed the sound to a shed in which a soldier was slumped across a table with a gas mask face, Nancy sitting hand-cuffed to the same table, shakily singing a lullaby to keep the soldier asleep. The Hunter sneaked in and unlocked the handcuffs, bringing Nancy out with her.

***

"You see?" Jack said smugly as they lit up and uncovered the spacecraft later. "Just an ambulance."

"That's an ambulance?" Nancy asked, her eyes wide.

"It's hard to explain," Hazel bit her lip. "It's from another world."

"They've been trying to get in," Jack frowned, eyeing the obvious signs of attempted forced entry.

"Of course they have," the Hunter scoffed. "They think they've got their hands on Hitler's latest secret weapon." She frowned. "What're you doing?"

Jack looked up from the keypad. "The sooner you see this thing is empty, the sooner you'll know I had nothing to do with it." There was a loud bang, the access panel flashed red and sparked, and an alarm started up. "Didn't happen last time."

The Hunter rolled her eyes. "It hadn't crashed last time. There'll be emergency protocols."

"Artie, what is that?" Hazel asked, hearing a clanging. Then she saw the gas masked patients battering at the hospital doors. "Artie!"

"Captain, secure those gates!" the Hunter ordered.

"Why?"

"Why'd you think?!" He ran off, and she turned to the girl. "Nancy, how'd you get in here?"

"I cut the wire," Nancy replied.

"Show Hazel. Setting two thousand four hundred and twenty eight D." She threw Hazel the sonic screwdriver.

"What?" the girl frowned, catching it.

"Reattaches barbed wire. Go!"

***

"Who are you?" Nancy asked as she and Hazel found the hole in the fence. "Who are any of you?"

Hazel snorted as she started fusing the wire back together. "You'd never believe me if I told you."

"You just told me that was an ambulance from another world. There are people running around with gas mask heads calling for their mummies, and the sky's full of Germans dropping bombs on me," Nancy deadpanned. "Tell me, do you think there's anything left I couldn't believe?"

"We're time travellers from the future," Hazel told her.

"Mad, you are," Nancy shook her head.

"We have a time travel machine, seriously!" Hazel protested.

Nancy shook her head again. "It's not that. All right, so you've got a time travel machine. I believe you. Believe anything, me. But what future?"

Hazel blinked, turning to look at her. "Nancy, this isn't the end. I know how it looks, but it's not the end of the world or anything."

"How can you say that?!" Nancy demanded. "Look at it."

"Listen to me. I was born in this city," Hazel told her. "I'm from here, in like, fifty years time."

"From here?" Nancy echoed.

"I'm a Londoner from your future," Hazel nodded.

"But - but you're not -"

"What?"

"German," Nancy whispered.

"Nancy, the Germans don't come here. They don't win." Hazel glanced back as the patients left the hospital. "Don't tell anyone I told you so, but you know what? You win."

"We win?" Nancy blinked.

Hazel grinned. "Come on!" They ran back to the ambulance, just as Jack got it open.

"It's empty. Look at it."

"What do you expect in a Chula medical transporter?" the Hunter rolled her eyes. "Bandages? Cough drops? Hazel?"

"Why would I be in a Chula medical transporter?" Hazel joked. The Hunter shook her head. "Well, I don't know!"

"Yes, you do," the Time Lady assured her.

Hazel glanced at her palms."Nanogenes!"

The Hunter nodded. "It wasn't empty, Captain. There were enough nanogenes in there to rebuild a species."

Jack paled. "Oh, God."

"Getting it now, are we? When the ship crashes, the nanogenes escape. Billions upon billions of them, ready to fix all the cuts and bruises in the whole world," the Hunter explained. "But what they find first is a dead child, probably killed earlier that night, and wearing a gas mask."

"And they brought him back to life?" Hazel asked. "They can do that?"

The Hunter scoffed. "What's life? Life's easy. A quirk of matter. Nature's way of keeping meat fresh. Nothing to a nanogene." She held up a metal finger. "One problem, though. These nanogenes, they're not like the ones on your ship. This lot have never seen a human being before. Don't know what a human being's supposed to look like. All they've got to go on is one little body, and there's not a lot left. But they carry right on. They do what they're programmed to do. They patch it up. Can't tell what's gasmask and what's skull, but they do their best. Then off they fly, off they go, work to be done. Because, you see, now they think they know what people should look like, and it's time to fix all the rest. And they won't ever stop. They won't ever, ever stop. The entire human race is going to be torn down and rebuilt in the form of one terrified child looking for its mother, and nothing in the world can stop it!"

"I didn't know," Jack whispered, his eyes wide in horror.

The Hunter bit her lip, turning to work on the ambulance.

"Hazel!" Nancy cried, backing up as the patients approached.

"Mummy. Mummy."

"It's bringing the gas mask people here, isn't it?" Hazel guessed.

"The ship thinks it's under attack," the Hunter stated. "It's calling up the troops. Standard protocol."

"But they're not troops."

"They are now," the Hunter countered. "This is a battle-field ambulance. The nanogenes don't just fix you up, they get you ready for the front line. Equip you, programme you."

"That's why the child's so strong," Hazel realised. "Why it could do that phoning thing."

"It's a fully equipped Chula warrior, yes," the Hunter nodded. "All that weapons tech in the hands of a hysterical four year old looking for his mummy. And now there's an army of them."

Jack looked around, seeing the patients were surrounding them outside the barbed wire, but not coming further. "Why don't they attack?"

"Good little soldiers, waiting for their commander," the Hunter shrugged.

"The child?" Jack asked.

"Jamie," Nancy corrected.

He frowned. "What?"

"Not the child. Jamie."

"So how long until the bomb falls?" Hazel inquired.

"Any second," Jack stated, swallowing hard.

"What's the matter, Captain?" the Hunter teased. "A bit close to the volcano for you?"

"He's just a little boy," Nancy wept.

"I know," the Hunter whispered, looking down.

"He's just a little boy who wants his mummy."

"I know," she repeated. "There isn't a little boy born who wouldn't tear the world apart to save his mummy. And this little boy can."

"So what're we going to do?" Hazel asked.

"I don't know," the Hunter admitted.

"It's my fault," Nancy sobbed.

"No."

"It is," she insisted. "It's all my fault."

"How can it be your -?" The Hunter cut herself off, her eyes widening.

"Mummy. Mummy. Mummy. Mummy."

"Nancy, what age are you? Twenty? Twenty one? Older than you look, yes?"

Jack flinched as a bomb exploded nearby. "Queenie, that bomb. We've got seconds."

"You can teleport us out," Hazel pointed out.

"Not you guys," Jack shook his head. "The nav-com's back online. Going to take too long to override the protocols."

"So it's volcano day," the Hunter told him, looking up at him with a sad smile. "Do what you've got to do, Captain."

"Jack?" Hazel asked. The man disappeared, and the Hunter turned back to Nancy.

"How old were you five years ago? Fifteen? Sixteen? Old enough to give birth, anyway. He's not your brother, is he? A teenage single mother in 1941. So you hid. You lied. You even lied to him."

The gate opened, and Jamie stood there. "Are you my mummy?"

"He's going to keep asking, Nancy," the Hunter told her. "He's never going to stop."

"Mummy?"

"Tell him. Nancy, the future of the human race is in your hands. Trust me and tell him."

Nancy and Jamie walked towards each other slowly. "Are you my mummy? Are you my mummy? Are you my mummy?"

"Yes," Nancy admitted. "Yes, I am your mummy."

"Mummy?"

"I'm here."

"Are you my mummy?"

"I'm here."

"Are you my mummy?"

"Yes."

"Are you my mummy?"

The Hunter bit her lip. "He doesn't understand. There's not enough of him left."

"I am your mummy. I will always be your mummy. I'm so sorry. I am so, so sorry." Nancy hugged her son, and a cloud of golden nanogenes surrounded them.

"What's happening?" Hazel asked, her eyes widening. "Art, it's changing her, we should -"

"Wait!" the Hunter exclaimed. "Come on, please. Come on, you clever little nanogenes. Figure it out! The mother, she's the mother! It's got to be enough information. Figure it out!"

"What's happening?" Hazel repeated, confused.

"See?" the Hunter grinned. "Recognising the same DNA." Jamie let go, and the pair of them fell to the ground. "Oh, come on. Give me a day like this. Give me this one." She removed Jamie's gas mask, laughed, and picked up the boy to swing him in the air as he grinned. "Yes! Welcome back! Twenty years till pop music - you're going to love it."

"What happened?" Nancy asked, getting to her feet with Hazel's help.

"The nanogenes recognised the superior information - the parent DNA," the Hunter explained, holding Jamie on her hip. "They didn't change you because you changed them! Mother knows best!"

"Oh, Jamie," Nancy sighed, hugging her son as the Hunter handed him over.

"Artie, that bomb," Hazel reminded her.

"Taken care of it," the Hunter grinned.

"How?" Hazel frowned.

"Psychology."

They both looked up and watched as the bomb hurtled towards them before being caught in Jack's tractor beam just a few metres above them. The man himself was sat astride the bomb. "Queenie!" he called, grinning.

"That's my boy!" the Hunter cheered.

"The bomb's already commenced detonation," Jack told her. "I've put it in stasis, but it won't last long."

"Change of plan," the Time Lady explained. "Don't need the bomb. Can you get rid of it, safely as you can?"

Jack nodded. "Jules?"

"Yeah?" Hazel grinned.

"Goodbye." He and the bomb disappeared, then reappeared. "By the way, love the t-shirt." And they vanished again.

The Hunter snapped her fingers, summoning nanogenes. Hazel frowned. Was she hurt? "What are you doing?"

"Software patch," she replied. "Going to email the upgrade. You want moves, Haze? I'll give you moves." She thrust the nanogenes over to the waiting patients and soldiers, and they all fell to the ground. "Everybody lives, Hazel!" the Hunter grinned, hugging her tight. "Just this once, everybody lives."

As soon as the patients were standing up again, the Hunter found Dr Constantine looking more than a little confused. "Ah, Dr Constantine, who never left his patients. Back on your feet, constant doctor. The world doesn't want to get by without you just yet, and I don't blame it one bit. These are your patients. All better now."

"Yes, yes, so it seems," Constantine nodded, looking around. "They also seem to be standing around in a disused railway station. Is there any particular reason for that?"

"Yeah, well, you know, cutbacks," the Hunter shrugged. "Listen, whatever was wrong with them in the past, you're probably going to find that they're cured. Just tell them what a great doctor you are. Don't make a big thing of it. Okay?" She made her way back to the ambulance as an old woman hobbled up.

"What are you doing?" Hazel asked, happy to watch the Hunter as she fiddled with the wiring of the ship.

"Setting this to self-destruct, soon as everybody's clear. History says there was an explosion here," the Hunter stated. "Who am I to argue with history?"

Hazel snorted. "Usually the first in line!"

***

"The nanogenes will clean up the mess and switch themselves off, because I just told them to," the Hunter explained as they got back to the TARDIS. "Nancy and Jamie will go to Dr Constantine for help, ditto. All in all, all things considered, fantastic!"

"Look at you, beaming away like you're Father Christmas," Hazel grinned.

The Hunter scoffed. "Who says I'm not - that switch blade of yours when you were seventeen?"

Hazel blinked. "Wait, what?"

"And everybody lives, Haze! Everybody lives! I need more days like this!"

"Artie," Hazel said, biting her lip.

"Go on, ask me anything. I'm on fire," the Hunter grinned.

"What about Jack?" Hazel wondered. "Why'd he say goodbye?"

The Hunter smiled. "Let's go get him."

***

"Okay, computer, how long can we keep the bomb in stasis?" Jack questioned, back in his ship.

"Stasis decaying at ninety percent cycle. Detonation in three minutes."

"Can we jettison it?"

"Any attempt to jettison the device will precipitate detonation. One hundred percent probability."

"We could stick it in an escape pod," Jack suggested.

"There is no escape pod on board."

Jack nodded. "I see the flaw in that. I'll get in the escape pod."

"There is no escape pod on board."

"Did you check everywhere?"

"Affirmative."

"Under the sink?" he checked.

"Affirmative."

"Okay," Jack blew out a breath. "Out of one hundred, exactly how dead am I?"

"Termination of Captain Jack Harkness in under two minutes. One hundred percent probability."

"Lovely. Thanks. Good to know the numbers," Jack said sarcastically.

"You're welcome."

He sighed. "Okay then. Think we'd better initiate emergency protocol four one seven."

"Affirmative."

A martini appeared, and Jack drank it, coughing. "Ooh, a little too much vermouth. See if I come here again." He chuckled weakly. "Funny thing. Last time I was sentenced to death, I ordered four hyper-vodkas for my breakfast. All a bit of a blur after that. Woke up in bed with both my executioners. Mmm, lovely couple. They stayed in touch. Can't say that about most executioners." He sighed again. "Anyway. Thanks for everything, computer. It's been great."

Suddenly, Moonlight Serenade started to play, and Jack turned around to see the open doors of the TARDIS through which the Hunter and Hazel could be seen dancing.

"Well, hurry up, then!" Hazel called as she saw him looking. He ran in, and she turned her attention back to the Hunter. "Okay. And right and turn." They messed up, and she giggled. "Okay, okay, try and spin me again, but this time, don't get my arm up my back. No extra points for a half-nelson."

"I'm sure I used to know this stuff," the Hunter pouted. "Close the door, will you? Your ship's about to blow up. There's going to be a draught." Jack did as asked, and she started up the engines, piloting them into the vortex. "Welcome to the TARDIS," she smiled as the flight settled down.

"Much bigger on the inside," Jack stated appreciatively.

The Hunter winked. "You'd better be."

Hazel rolled her eyes. "I think what's Artie's trying to say is you may cut in."

"God, no," the Hunter snorted. "I've just remembered!"

"What?" Hazel asked.

The music changed to Glenn Miller's In The Mood. "I can dance! I can dance!"

Hazel smiled. "Actually, Artie, I thought Jack might like this dance."

"I'm sure he would, Haze," the Hunter grinned, grabbing the girl and spinning her. "I'm absolutely certain. But who with?" Hazel laughed as she was dipped, and Jack smiled. This... this wasn't bad at all.

~~~

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thedoctorcried · 3 years

Text

Runaway - Part Twelve

~Masterlist~

Warnings: swearing, follows S1 of Doctor Who.

The Hunter looked up as the TARDIS took on a purplish tinge, the cloister bell tolling in the distance. She gently settled Hazel on her bed, then left as quietly as she could to find out what was going on.

By the time Hazel appeared in the console room, having changed her clothes, the Hunter was chasing a small spacecraft, making the ship tilt dangerously. "What's the emergency?" the human girl asked, wiping the sleep from her eyes with one hand as she held onto the console with the other.

"It's mauve," the Hunter replied, her eyes flickering over before returning to the screen she was watching to make some small adjustments to her flying.

"Mauve?" Hazel echoed, frowning.

"The universally recognised colour for danger," the Hunter told her, like it was obvious.

Hazel raised her eyebrows. "What happened to red?"

The Hunter snorted. "That's just humans. By everyone else's standards, red's camp." She stopped flitting around the console for a moment, grinning nostalgically. "Oh, the misunderstandings. All those red alerts, all that dancing." She noticed Hazel looking at the ship they were chasing on the monitor. "It's got a very basic flight computer. I've hacked in, slaved the TARDIS. Where it goes, we go."

"And that's safe, is it?" Hazel checked.

"Totally," the Hunter assured her, then winced as something exploded on the console near her. "Okay, reasonably. I forgot to say reasonably." She was distracted by what she was seeing on the monitor. "Oh no you don't! It's jumping time tracks, getting away from us!"

"What exactly is this thing?" Hazel asked, shouting over the engines as the Hunter attempted to get closer to the ship.

"No idea," the Time Lady replied, shrugging.

"Then why are we chasing it?"

"It's mauve and dangerous, and about thirty seconds from the centre of London," the Hunter replied, grinning as she threw the dematerialisation lever.

***

Hazel stepped out into a dark alleyway between two terraces of crowded housing. The Hunter was right behind her, locking the door to the TARDIS. She looked around and snorted. "Do know how long you can knock around space without happening to bump into Earth?"

"Five days?" Hazel guessed. "Or is that just when we're out of milk?"

The Hunter shook her head fondly. "Must have come down somewhere quite close. Within a mile, anyway. And it can't have been more than a few weeks ago. Maybe a month."

"A month?" Hazel echoed, frowning. "We were right behind it."

"It was jumping time tracks all over the place," the Hunter protested. "We're bound to be a little bit out. Do you want to drive?!"

Hazel grinned cheekily. "Wouldn't mind, actually." She laughed as the Hunter blinked, pulling her coat tighter around her. "What's the plan, then? Are you going to do a scan for alien tech or something?"

The Hunter snorted. "Haze, it hit the middle of London with a very loud bang. I'm going to ask." She showed Hazel her psychic paper ID for the occasion.

"Dr Art Smith, Ministry of Asteroids?" Hazel read, raising her eyebrows.

"Yep," the Hunter nodded as they came up to a door marked 'Deliveries Only'.

"Not very Spock, is it, just asking," Hazel pointed out.

"Haze, it's a piece of paper that reads your mind," the Hunter cocked an eyebrow. "Door, music, people. What do you think?"

"I think you should do a scan for alien tech," Hazel told her matter-of-factly. "Give me some Spock, for once. Would it kill you?"

The Hunter rolled her eyes, opening the door with her sonic screwdriver, then eyed her friend's Union Flag top. "Are you sure about that t-shirt?"

Hazel looked down at it, making a face. "Too early to say. I'm taking it out for a spin."

"Huh. Well, come on, if you're coming. It won't take a minute," the Hunter shrugged, going inside the club.

"Mummy?" Hazel blinked, about to follow her friend in. "Mummy?" She turned around, walking a little ways away from the building and looked around, before seeing a little boy wearing a gas mask on a nearby roof. "Art? Artie? There's a kid up there!"

***

The Hunter followed a waiter through a bead curtain to the main room of the club, where a saxophonist and a jazz band were accompanying a woman in a long red dress.

***

"Are you all right up there?" Hazel called. The child turned in her direction, not moving from the roof.

"Mummy?"

Hazel swore, then saw a metal fire escape and started to climb.

***

When the singer finished, the Hunter clapped with everyone else, then took her place at the microphone. "Excuse me. Excuse me. Could I have everybody's attention, just for a minute? I'll be quick. Hello!" She grinned as the audience focused on her. "Might seem like a bit of a stupid question, but has anything fallen from the sky recently?"

The audience stared at her with varying expressions of confusion, then burst out laughing. She narrowed her eyes.

***

Hazel reached the top of the fire escape where it came out on a flat roof. The child was further up, on a taller, triangular roof. "Mummy?"

"Okay, hang on," Hazel called. "Don't move!" She bit her lip, looking up at the other roof. How the hell was she supposed to get up there? Suddenly, a rope dangled down in front of her. She shrugged, testing it.

***

"Sorry, have I said something funny?" the Hunter asked, frowning at the laughing crowd. This was decidedly not the reaction she had been expecting. "It's just, there's this thing that I need to find. Would've fallen from the sky a couple of days ago."

The laughter was cut off by a loud, familiar-sounding siren. Everyone became silent, bustling around to grab their possessions and leave.

"Would've landed quite near here," the Hunter continued, sighing as her audience all left. Then she saw the poster on the opposite wall that their bodies had previously been hiding - Hitler will send no warning. She sighed again. "I'm an idiot."

***

Hazel had found the rope secure enough and was using to climb the roof to reach the child. How the hell she planned on getting back down with the child was anyone's guess.

"Mummy!" the child cried. "Balloon!" He pointed, and Hazel looked up to see a huge barrage balloon from which she was hanging. The balloon drifted away, and she clung on for dear life, her eyes wide as she dangled above the alleyway.

"Artie! Artie! Artemis!" Searchlights combed the sky in the distance, and she flinched as something exploded nearby and she yelped as a squadron of German planes headed for her. "Okay, maybe not this t-shirt," she murmured shakily.

***

"Hazel?" the Hunter called as she exited the club to find the alleyway deserted. A cat meowed nearby, and she picked it up, scratching its head. "You know, one day, just one day, maybe, I'm going to meet someone who gets the whole don't wander off thing. Nine hundred years of phone box travel, it's the only thing left to surprise me." She paused as the TARDIS' telephone rang, putting the cat down. Frowning, she got closer, opening the small door and staring at the phone. "Why are you doing that? You don't do that, that's not your job. You're supposed to sit there looking pretty." She took her screwdriver from her pocket, absently brushing cat hairs from her coat.

"Don't answer it. It's not for you."

The Hunter whipped around to see a young woman in the alleyway, keeping to the shadows. She narrowed her eyes a little. "And how do you know that?"

"'Cause I do," the woman stated. "And I'm telling you, don't answer it."

"Well, if you know so much, tell me this," the Hunter requested, looking back at the phone. "How can it be ringing? It's not even a real phone. It's not connected, it's not -" By the time she turned back, the girl had gone. The Hunter sighed, then shrugged and answered the phone. "Hello? Hello? This is the Hunter speaking. How may I help you?"

"Mummy? Mummy?"

"Who is this?" the Hunter frowned. "Who's speaking?"

"Are you my mummy?"

"Who is this?" the Hunter asked again, biting her lip.

"Mummy?"

"How did you ring here? This isn't a real phone. It's not wired up to anything."

"Mummy?" The dialling tone hit, and the Hunter hung up, before knocking on the TARDIS door.

"Haze? Hazel, you in there?" She turned when she heard a noise outside the alley, going to investigate.

"The planes are coming. Can't you hear them? Into the shelter. None of your nonsense, now move it!"

The Hunter followed the shouting to a garden wall, which she stood on a dustbin to see over. In the garden, a well-fed woman was ushering her young son into an air raid shelter.

"Come on, hurry up, get in there. Come on. Arthur! Arthur, will you hurry up? Didn't you hear the siren?"

Her equally rotund husband came waddling out of the house, shaking his fist at the sky. "Middle of dinner, every night. Blooming Germans! Don't you eat?!"

"I can hear the planes!" his wife called.

"Don't you eat?"

"Oh, keep your voice down, will you?" she chastised. "It's an air raid! Get in. Look, there's a war on."

"I know there's a war on. Don't push me."

Their voices cut off as the woman slammed the door of the shelter shut, and the Hunter narrowed her eyes as she saw the girl from the alleyway enter the garden and the house. Quietly, she followed.

***

An officer in a WWII greatcoat was standing on the balcony just outside the officers' mess hall, using a pair of very non-WWII binoculars to watch Hazel as she struggled to hold on to the rope she dangled from.

"Get those lights out, please," one officer ordered. "Everyone down to the shelter."

"Jack?" another officer, Algy, called as he put grabbed his weapon. "Are you going down to the shelter? Only I've got to go off on some silly guard duty." He looked in the direction Jack was staring. "Ah, barrage balloon, eh? Must've come loose. Happens now and then. Don't you RAF boys use them for target practice?"

Jack zoomed in on Hazel's flailing body. "Excellent bottom," he drawled, his accent very clearly American.

Algy blushed, thinking he was talking about him. "I say, old man, there's a time and a place. Look, you should really be off."

"Sorry, old man. I've got to go meet a girl," Jack smiled, putting his binoculars away. "But you've got an excellent bottom too."

***

Inside the house, the girl from the alleyway filled a small sack with provisions from the cupboards, then headed for the front door. Outside, she whistled twice, then came back in, followed by a bunch of grubby street kids. "Many kids out there?" she asked.

"Yes, miss." Their eyes widened when they saw the spread on the dining table, and they dived for the food.

"Ah!" the girl called sharply, making them stop. "Still carving. Sit and wait. We've got the whole air raid."

"Look at that," one of the boys said, pointing at the meat the girl was carving. "Bet it's off the black market."

"That's enough," the girl snapped, but she was smiling.

***

Hazel was dangling above Westminster when a bomb exploded below her. She'd been holding onto the rope for what seemed like hours, and she was freezing. When a second bomb exploded, she lost her grip and fell, screaming. Suddenly, her fall halted, and she was caught mid-air in a pale blue beam.

"Okay, okay, I've got you," an American voice soothed, seemingly coming from nowhere.

"Who's got me?" Hazel demanded. "And - well, how?"

"I'm just programming your descent pattern," Jack stated. "Keep as still as you can and keep your hands and feet inside the light field."

"Descent pattern?" Hazel echoed, doing as he asked.

"Oh, and could you switch off your cell phone?" He chuckled as she rolled her eyes. "No, seriously, it interferes with my instrument."

"You know, no one ever believes that," Hazel pointed out, but she did turn her phone off.

"Thank you. That's much better."

She snorted. "Oh, yeah, that's a real load off, that is. I'm hanging in the sky in the middle of a German air raid with the Union Jack across my chest, but hey - my mobile phone's off."

"Actually, it's the Union Flag. You're not flying at sea," Jack told her. "Be with you in a moment." After a minute, he spoke again. "Ready for you. Hold tight!"

"To what?!" she demanded.

"Oh, yeah, actually, that's a fair point," Jack stated, as if he hadn't thought of that before.

Before Hazel could yell at him, she fell down the light field and into his arms.

"I've got you," he assured her, holding her comfortably bridal style. "You're fine, you're just fine. The tractor beam, it can scramble your head just a little."

"Hello," Hazel breathed, staring up at him. For a guy, he was pretty fit.

"Hello," he grinned back.

"Hello," she repeated, before shaking her head. "Sorry, that was hello twice there. Dull, but thorough, right?"

"Are you all right?" Jack asked.

"Fine," she told him. He set her down on her feet. "What, you expecting me to faint or something?"

"You do look a little dizzy," Jack admitted, watching her carefully.

Hazel snorted. "What about you, Ken doll? You're not even in focus." And with that, her eyes rolled back into her head, and she fainted into his waiting arms. He rolled his eyes, putting her into one of his ship's seats.

***

"It's got to be black market," another boy agreed. "You couldn't get all this on coupons."

"Ernie, how many times?" the woman chastised. "We are guests in this house. We will not make comments of that kind. Washing up." The other children laughed as Ernie groaned.

"Nancy!" he complained.

Nancy turned to another boy. "Haven't seen you at one of these before."

The boy nudged the child next to him. "He told me about it."

"Sleeping rough?"

"Yes, miss."

"All right, then," Nancy nodded, then looked around at all of them. "One slice each, and I want to see everyone chewing properly." A plate of the meat she'd sliced was handed around.

"Thank you, miss."

"Thanks, miss."

"Thank you, miss."

"Thanks, miss!" the Hunter grinned when the plate came to where she'd been hiding behind the door. The children yelped, gasping and running away from her.

"It's all right," Nancy told them, eyeing the Hunter. "Everybody stay where you are!"

"Good here, eh?" the Hunter smiled. "Who's got the salt?"

"Back in your seats," Nancy instructed. "She shouldn't be here either."

"So, you lot, what's the story?" the Hunter asked.

"What do you mean?" Ernie frowned.

"You're homeless, right? Living rough?" she guessed.

"Why do you want to know that?" another boy demanded. "Are you a copper?"

She scoffed. "Of course I'm not a copper. What's a copper going to do with you lot anyway? Arrest you for starving? I make it 1941. You lot shouldn't even be in London. You should've been evacuated to the country by now."

"I was evacuated," one boy admitted. "Sent me to a farm."

"So why'd you come back?" the Hunter asked, concerned.

"There was a man there," he shrugged.

"Yeah, same with Ernie," another boy piped up. "Two homes."

"Shut up," Ernie muttered. "It's better on the streets anyway. It's better food."

"Yeah," the boy agreed. "Nancy always gets the best food for us."

"So, that's what you do, is it, Nancy?" the Hunter quirked an eyebrow at the woman.

"What is?" Nancy asked defensively.

"As soon as the sirens go, you find a big fat family meal still warm on the table with everyone down in the air raid shelter and bingo! Feeding frenzy for the homeless kids of London Town. Puddings for all, as long as the bombs don't get you," the Hunter shrugged.

Nancy put her hands on her hips. "Something wrong with that?"

"Wrong with it?" The Hunter snorted. "It's brilliant. I'm not sure if it's Marxism in action or a West End musical."

"Why'd you follow me?" Nancy questioned. "What do you want?"

The Hunter narrowed her eyes slightly. "I want to know how a phone that isn't a phone gets a phone call. You seem to be the one to ask."

"I did you a favour. I told you not to answer it, that's all I'm telling you."

She nodded. "Great, thanks. And I want to find a blonde in a Union Flag. I mean a specific one. i didn't just wake up this morning with a craving. Anybody seen a girl like that?" She bit her lip when the kids all shook their heads. Then she pouted as Nancy took her plate away. "What have I done wrong?"

"You took two slices," Nancy told her, her lips twitching. "No blondes, no flags. Anything else before you leave?"

The Hunter's eyes widened. "Ooh, yeah, there is actually. Thanks for asking, I nearly forgot. Something I've been looking for. Would've fallen from the sky about a month ago, but not a bomb. Not the usual kind, anyway. Wouldn't have exploded. Probably would have just buried itself in the ground somewhere, and it would have looked something like this." She held up a sketch.

A knock on the door made everyone jump, even the Hunter. "Mumm? Are you in there, mummy?"

The Hunter narrowed her eyes. She peeked out the window to see a little boy in a gas mask.

"Mummy?" he called.

"Who was the last one in?" Nancy questioned.

"Her," Ernie said, pointing to the Hunter.

"No, she came round the back," Nancy shook her head. "Who came in the front?"

"Me," one boy admitted.

"Did you close the door?" Nancy questioned him.

"Er -"

"Did you close the door?" Nancy demanded.

He shook his head timidly. Nancy ran to bolt the door as the child kept calling.

"What's this, then?" the Hunter frowned, folding her arms as she leaned in the doorway, watching. "It's never easy being the only child left out in the cold, you know."

"Oh, and I suppose you'd know," Nancy scoffed.

"I do actually, yes," the Hunter admitted. "I loved my brother, but he could be a dick sometimes."

Nancy frowned, then shook her head. "It's not exactly a child."

"Mummy?"

She pushed past the Hunter into the dining room and started ushering the kids out. "Right, everybody out. Across the back garden and under the fence. Now! Go! Move!" She crouched in front of the one remaining girl, who couldn't have been older than four. "Come on, baby, we've got to go, all right? It's just like a game. Just like chasing. Take your coat, go on. Go!"

"Mummy? Mummy? Please let me in, mummy. Please let me in, mummy." A small hand came through the letterbox.

"Are you all right?" the Hunter asked, moving along the hallway towards it.

"Please let me in," the child whimpered.

Suddenly, a vase crashed into the hand, and it quickly withdrew through the letterbox.

"You mustn't let him touch you!" Nancy cried.

The Hunter turned to look at her, frowning in confusion. "What happens if he touches me?"

"He'll make you like him."

"And what's he like?"

Nancy glanced over her shoulder in the direction the kids had gone. "I've got to go."

"Nancy, what's he like?" the Hunter demanded.

"He's empty," Nancy whispered. The telephone rang. "It's him. He can make phones ring. He can. Just like with that police box you saw."

The Hunter picked up the phone. "Are you my mummy?" the child asked from the other end.

Nancy slammed the phone back onto the hook. The radio started up in the dining room, swiftly followed by toys upstairs.

"Mummy? Please let me in, mummy. Mummy, mummy, mummy."

Nancy shivered. "You stay if you want to." She left by the back door, and the Hunter turned around as the child put his hand through the letterbox. She noticed a small fork-shaped scar on the back of it.

"Mummy? Let me in please, mummy. Please let me in."

"Your mummy isn't here," the Hunter told him softly, edging closer.

"Are you my mummy?"

"No mummies here, not anymore. Nobody here but you and me."

"I'm scared."

"Why are those other children frightened of you?" the Hunter asked, curious.

"Please let me in, mummy. I'm scared of the bombs."

"Okay, I'm opening the door now." The child pulled back his hand. Keeping a distance, the Hunter telekinetically unbolted and opened the door, but the street was deserted. She frowned.

***

"Better now?" Jack asked as Hazel came to in the co-pilot seat.

She blinked groggily, yawning. "You got lights in here?"

Jack turned the lights on to reveal they were sitting in a small, cramped spaceship. "Hello."

"Hello."

Hazel narrowed her eyes. "How about we don't start that again?"

"Okay," he agreed easily, flashing a brilliant smile.

"So, who're you, then?" she asked.

"Captain Jack Harkness, One Three Three Squadron, Royal Air Force. American volunteer." He handed her an ID card.

She snorted. "Liar. This is psychic paper. It tells me whatever you want it to tell me."

Jack blinked, taken aback. "How do you know?"

"Two things. One, I have a friend who uses this all the time," Hazel began.

"Ah," Jack sighed.

"And two, you just handed me a piece of paper telling me you're single and you work out," she pointed out.

"Tricky thing, psychic paper," Jack muttered, having the grace to look a little embarrassed at least.

"Yeah," Hazel nodded, grinning. "Can't let your mind wander when you're handing it over." She gave it back.

Jack read it, and sighed. "'Not a chance, Romeo'? Jules, you wound me."

Hazel frowned. "Jules?"

"Juliet," Jack explained, before narrowing his eyes. "That's the right play, isn't it?"

She smiled. "Yeah. Maybe we should try and get along without the psychic paper?"

"That would be better, wouldn't it?" Jack nodded, laughing.

Hazel looked around appreciatively. "Nice spaceship."

"Gets me around," Jack shrugged.

"Very Spock," Hazel complimented.

Jack blinked. "Who?"

"Oh, come on! You know Shakespeare, but you don't know Star Trek? You are so not a local boy."

"A cell phone, a liquid crystal watch, and fabrics that won't be around for at least another two decades?" Jack raised his eyebrows. "Guessing you're not a local girl."

"Guessing right," she nodded, going to clap sarcastically, before hissing in pain.

"Burn your hands on the rope?" Jack guessed.

"Yeah." She froze as a bomb whistled past in front of them. "We're parked in midair! Can't anyoen down there see us?"

"No," Jack said impatiently. "Can I have a look at your hands for a moment?"

She frowned, holding them to her chest suspiciously. "Why?"

"Please?" He gave her puppy dog eyes, and she relented. "You can stop acting now," he muttered as he gently brushed his fingertips over her palms. "I know exactly who you are. I can spot a Time Agent a mile away."

"Time Agent?" Hazel echoed, trying not to sound too confused.

Jack nodded. "I've been expecting one of you guys to show up. Though not, I must say, by barrage balloon." He glanced up at her with a cheeky grin. "Do you often travel that way?"

"Sometimes I get swept off my feet. By balloons," she was quick to specify. "What are you doing?"

Jack wrapped his navy blue scarf around her wrists. "Try to keep still."

"Okay," she frowned. "Kinky?"

He winked at her, then pushed a button on the console. What looked like golden, glowing butterflies flew to her burnt palms, healing them. "Nanogenes," he corrected. "Sub-atomic robots. The air in here is full of them. They just repaired three layers of your skin."

Hazel smiled as the glow dissipated and he untied her wrists, his fingers warm on her chilled skin. "Tell them thanks."

"Shall we get down to business?" Jack suggested.

She blinked. "Business?"

"Shall we have a drink on the balcony? Bring up the glasses." He opened a hatch in the ceiling, and climbed out, carrying a bottle of champagne, before helping Hazel up with the flutes.

She laughed shakily, seeing the fires of London right below her feet. "I know I'm standing on something." Jack pressed a button on a remote control, and the ship appeared beneath them. "Oh, okay. You have an invisible spaceship. That's cool."

"Yeah," he smirked.

"Tethered up to Big Ben for some reason?"

"First rule of active camouflage," he told her, opening the bottle and filling the glasses she'd brought up. "Park somewhere you'll remember."

***

Nancy went to a hidden shack in some railway sidings and carefully hid the food she'd stolen from the house. When she stood up, she saw the Hunter watching her with a grin. "How'd you follow me here?" she demanded.

"I'm good at following," the Hunter shrugged, leaning in the doorway.

"People can't usually follow me if I don't want them to," Nancy frowned.

"Yeah, but there's actually a reason they call me the Hunter." She paused. "I think."

"Goodnight, miss," Nancy turned away.

"Nancy, there's something chasing you and the other kids," the Hunter stated hastily. "Looks like a boy and it isn't a boy, and it started about a month ago, right? The thing I'm looking for, the thing that fell from the sky, that's when it landed. And you know what I'm talking about, don't you?"

"There was a bomb," Nancy admitted. "A bomb that wasn't a bomb. Fell the other end of Limehouse Green Station."

"Take me there," the Hunter requested.

"There's soldiers guarding it," Nancy told her. "Barbed wire. You'll never get through."

The Hunter smirked. "Try me."

"You sure you want to know what's going on in there?" Nancy checked.

"I really want to know."

"Then there's someone you need to talk to first."

"And who might that be?" the Hunter asked.

"The Doctor." She froze.

***

"You know, it's getting a bit late," Hazel giggled, downing the last of her champagne as they sat on the roof of the spaceship. "I should really be getting back."

"We're discussing business," Jack told her, filling her glass back up.

She snorted. "This isn't business. This is champagne."

"I try never to discuss business with a clear head," Jack grinned. "Are you travelling alone? Are you authorised to negotiate with me?"

"What would we be negotiating?" Hazel asked, raising her eyebrows.

"I have something for the Time Agency," Jack confessed. "Something they'd like to buy. Are you in power to make payment?"

Hazel bit her lip. "Well, I... I should talk to my companion."

"Companion?" Jack echoed.

"I should really be getting back to her," Hazel nodded.

"Her?"

"Do you have the time?" she asked, sipping her drink. Jack pressed a button, and Big Ben's face lit up as it struck nine thirty. "Ooh, that was flash."

Jack smirked. "So when you say your companion, just how disappointed should I be?"

Hazel smiled at his persistence. "Okay, we're standing in midair..."

"Mmhmm," Jack inclined his head.

"On a spaceship, during a German air raid. Do you really think now's a good time to be coming on to me?" She raised her eyebrows.

"Perhaps not," he decided, nodding.

Hazel shrugged. "Wouldn't have worked anyway."

Jack smiled. "Do you like Glenn Miller, Jules?" He used his remote control again, and Moonlight Serenade began to play. He took Hazel into his arms, and they began to slowdance. "It's 1941, the height of the London Blitz, the height of the German bombing campaign, and something else has fallen on London. A fully equipped Chula warship. The last one in existence, armed to the teeth. And I know where it is, because I parked it. If the Agency can name the right price, I can get it for you. But in two hours, a German bomb is going to fall on it and destroy it forever. That's your deadline. That's the deal. Now, shall we discuss payment?"

"Do you know what I think?" Hazel asked.

"What?"

"I think you were talking just then," Hazel smiled.

"Two hours, the bomb falls," Jack stressed. "There'll be nothing left but dust and a crater."

She snorted. "Promises, promises."

"Are you listening to any of this, Jules?" Jack sighed.

"You used to be a Time Agent, now you're some kind of freelancer," she recited.

"Well, that's a little harsh," he smiled, spinning her. "I like to think of myself as a criminal."

Hazel laughed. "I bet you do."

"So, this companion of yours, does she handle the business?" Jack questioned.

"Well, I delegate a lot of that, yeah," Hazel nodded.

"Well, maybe we should go find her," Jack suggested, keeping them swaying in place.

"And how're you going to do that?" she raised an eyebrow expectantly.

"Easy. I'll do a scan for alien tech."

She grinned. "Finally, a professional."

***

The Hunter was looking through binoculars at the area Nancy had brought her to while the girl pointed things out. "The bomb's under that tarpaulin. They put the fence up over night. See that building? The hospital."

"What about it?" the Hunter asked, shifting her gaze.

"That's where the doctor is," Nancy said. "You should talk to him."

"For now, I'm more interested in getting in there," the Hunter stated, indicating the fenced-off area.

"Talk to the doctor first," Nancy pleaded.

The Hunter frowned. "Why?"

"Because then maybe you won't want to get inside," Nancy told her, then turned away and started walking.

"Where're you going?"

"There was a lot of food in that house. I've got mouths to feed." She shrugged. "Should be safe enough now."

"Can I ask you a question? Who did you lose?"

Nancy stopped in her tracks. "What?"

"The way you look after all those kids. It's because you lost somebody, isn't it? You're doing all this to make up for it," the Hunter assumed.

"My little brother. Jamie," Nancy admitted. "One night I went out looking for food. Same night that thing fell. I told him not to follow me, I told him it was dangerous, but he just... He just didn't like being on his own."

"What happened?" the Hunter asked quietly. She could empathise with losing a brother.

"In the middle of an air raid?" Nancy scoffed. "What do you think happened?"

The Hunter shook her head. "It's amazing."

Nancy frowned. "What is?"

"Well, 1941. Right now, not very far from here, the German war machine is rolling up the map of Europe. Country after country, falling like dominoes. Nothing can stop it. Nothing. Until one, tiny, damp little island says no. Not here. A mouse in front of a lion. You're amazing, the lot of you. Don't know what you do to Hitler, but you frighten the hell out of me." She smiled. "Off you go, then. Do what you've got to do. Save the world."

Nancy shook her head at her, and started to walk away.

***

Five minutes later, the Hunter was breaking into the hospital. Every bed she saw was occupied with a very still patient wearing a gas mask. She was looking over one of them when an elderly doctor appeared, leaning heavily on a walking stick.

"You'll find them everywhere. In every bed, in every ward. Hundreds of them," he stated.

She nodded. "Yes, I saw. Why are they still wearing gas masks?"

"They're not," he said. She narrowed her eyes a fraction. "Who are you?"

"Are you the doctor?"

"Dr Constantine," he nodded. "And you are?"

She showed him her psychic paper. "Dr Art Smith. Nancy sent me."

"Nancy?" he echoed. "That means you must've been asking about the bomb."

"Yes."

"What do you know about it?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. It's why I was asking. What do you know?"

"Only what it's done," Constantine shrugged.

The Hunter indicated the patients around her. "These people, they were all caught up in the blast?"

"None of them were," Constantine countered. His chuckle swiftly morphed into a racking cough, and he took a seat by the ward sister's desk.

"You're very sick," the Hunter noted.

"Dying, I should think," he agreed. "I just haven't been able to find the time. You said you were a doctor. Of medicine?"

"I have my moments," she inclined her head.

"Have you examined any of them yet?"

"No." She moved over to one of the patients.

"Don't touch the flesh," he warned.

"Which one?" she asked.

"Any one." After a moment of her looking at the patient, he coughed. "Conclusions?"

"Massive head trauma, mostly to the left side. Partial collapse of the chest cavity, mostly to the right. There's some scarring on the back of the hand and the gas mask seems to be fused to the flesh, but I can't see any burns," she reported.

"Examine another one," he suggested.

She took a quick look at the next patient, then frowned. "This isn't possible."

"Examine another."

She did so, and her brow furrowed deeper. "This isn't possible."

"No," Constantine agreed.

"They've all got the same injuries."

"Yes."

"Exactly the same."

"Yes."

"Identical, all of them, right down to the scar on the back of the hand," she noticed, fighting the urge to back up when she saw that same scar on Constantine's hand. "How did this happen?" she demanded. "How did it start?"

"When that bomb dropped, there was just one victim," Constantine stated.

"Dead?" she checked.

"At first," he admitted. "His injuries were truly dreadful. By the following morning, every doctor and nurse who had treated him, who had touched him, had those exact same injuries. By the morning after that, every patient in the same ward, the exact same injuries. Within a week, the entire hospital. Physical injuries as plague. Can you explain that? What would you say was the cause of death?"

"The head trauma," she guessed.

"No."

"Asphyxiation."

"No."

"The collapse of the chest cavity."

"No."

She narrowed her eyes. "All right. What was the cause of death?"

"There wasn't one. They're not dead." He hit a metal waste basket with his walking stick, and the patients all stood up. The Hunter automatically stepped back. "It's all right," he assured her. "They're harmless. They just sort of sit there. No heartbeat, no life signs of any kind. They just don't die."

"And they've just been left here?" she asked. "Nobody's doing anything?" The patients laid back again.

"I try and make them comfortable," he shrugged. "What else is there?"

"Just you?" she checked. "You're the only one here?"

"Before this war began, I was a father and a grandfather," he stated. "Now I am neither. But I'm still a doctor."

She bit her lip. "Yeah. I know the feeling."

"I suspect the plan is to blow up the hospital and blame it on a German bomb," he coughed.

"Probably too late," she guessed.

"No. There are isolated cases. Isolated cases breaking out all over London." He coughed again, and she made to help him, but he waved her away. "Stay back, stay back. Listen to me. Top floor. Room eight oh two. That's where they took the first victim, the one from the crash site. And you must find Nancy again."

"Nancy?" she echoed, eyeing him warily.

"It was her brother. She knows more than she's saying. She won't tell me, but she might - Mummy? Are you my mummy?" Starting with his mouth, Dr Constantine's morphed grotesquely into a gas mask.

"Hello?" an American voice called.

"Hello?" Hazel's voice echoed down the corridor. The Hunter looked up, starting to follow the noise.

"Hello?" The American man smiled when he saw her. "Good evening. Hope we're not interrupting. Jack Harkness." He shook her hand. "I've been hearing all about you on the way over."

Hazel hugged her. "Go with it," she whispered, before raising her voice. "He knows. I had to tell him about us being Time Agents."

"And it's a real pleasure to meet you, Uhura," Jack smiled, then walked past her into the ward.

The Hunter frowned. "Star Trek? Really?"

"What was I supposed to say?" Hazel asked. "I didn't think you'd want him calling you Art. Don't you ever get tired of Hunter?"

She raised an eyebrow. "Nine centuries in, I'm coping. Where've you been? We're in the middle of a London Blitz. It's not a good time for a stroll."

Hazel snorted, grinning cheekily. "Who's strolling? I went by barrage balloon. Only way to see an air raid."

"Wait, what?!"

"Listen, what's a Chula warship?" she changed the subject.

"Chula?" the Hunter echoed, narrowing her eyes.

They entered the ward to find Jack using what looked to the Hunter like a vortex manipulator to examine the patients. "This just isn't possible. How did this happen?"

"What kind of Chula ship landed here?" the Hunter questioned.

"What?" Jack blinked.

"He said it was a warship," Hazel supplied helpfully. "He stole it, parked it somewhere out there, somewhere a bomb's going to fall on it unless we make him an offer."

"What kind of warship?" the Hunter inquired.

"Does it matter?" Jack deflected. "It's got nothing to do with this."

"This started at the bomb site; it's got everything to do with it. What kind of warship?" she demanded coldly.

"An ambulance!" Jack exclaimed. "Look." He produced a hologram of it from his vortex manipulator. "That's what you chased through the Time Vortex. It's space junk. I wanted to kid you it was valuable. It's empty, I made sure of it. Nothing but a shell. I threw it at you. Saw your time travel vehicle - love the retro look, by the way, nice panels - threw you the bait -"

"Bait?" Hazel echoed, frowning.

"I wanted to sell it to you and then destroy it before you found out it was junk," Jack admitted, sighing.

"You said it was a war ship," Hazel narrowed her eyes.

"They have ambulances in wars," Jack said defensively. "It was a con, Jules. I was conning you. That's what I am, I'm a con man. I thought you were Time Agents. You're not, are you."

"Just a couple more freelancers," Hazel admitted, smirking.

"Oh, should've known," Jack shook his head. "The way you guys are blending in with the local colour. I mean, Flag Girl was bad enough, but Ice Queen?" The Hunter shrugged at the description. "Anyway, whatever's happening here has got nothing to do with that ship."

"What is happening here, Artie?" Hazel asked.

"Human DNA is being rewritten by an idiot," the Hunter muttered.

Hazel frowned. "What do you mean?"

"I don't know. Some kind of virus converting human beings into these things," the Hunter guessed. "But why? What's the point?" The patients suddenly sat up, and she froze.

"Mummy? Mummy? Mummy? Mummy?"

"What's happening?" Hazel wondered, watching them carefully.

"I don't know," the Hunter admitted.

The patients got out of their beds, and Dr Constantine joined them. "Mummy?"

"Don't let them touch you," the Hunter warned.

"What happens if they touch us?" Hazel inquired.

"You're looking at it," the Time Lady replied darkly, backing up as the patients closed in.

"Help me, mummy."

~~~

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thedoctorcried · 3 years

Text

Runaway - Part Nine

~Masterlist~

Warnings: swearing, follows S1 of Doctor Who.

Hazel looked around as she stepped out of the TARDIS into a dimly lit area surrounded by display cases. "So what is it?" she asked curiously. "What's wrong?"

The Hunter frowned, sighing. "I'm not sure. Some kind of signal drawing the TARDIS off course."

"Where are we?" Hazel wondered as her friend locked the door.

"Earth," the Hunter answered, sniffing. "Utah, the United States. About..." She tilted her head. "Half a mile underground."

"And when are we?" Hazel inquired, raising an eyebrow with a smirk.

"2012," the Hunter muttered, heading over to look at a display case.

Hazel followed, looking around absently. "God, that's so close. So I should be twenty seven. That's insane." She jumped when the lights turned on, turning quickly to see the Hunter smile apologetically. "Blimey. It's a great big museum."

The Hunter nodded, looking around with the critical eyes of an eagle. "An alien museum. Someone's got a hobby. They must have spent a fortune on this. Chunks of meteorite, moon dust." She pointed over at another case, walking over to it. "That's the milometer from the Roswell spaceship."

"That's a bit of Slitheen!" Hazel exclaimed, looking at a second case. "That's a Slitheen's arm. It's been stuffed."

When the Hunter next spoke, her voice was tinged with a nostalgic sadness. "Oh, look at you."

"What is it?" Hazel asked, coming to stand by her side as she looked at the metal robot head.

"An old friend of mine," the Hunter replied, before making a face. "Well, enemy. The stuff of so many nightmares reduced to a listless exhibit." She sighed quietly. "I'm getting old."

"Is that where the signal's coming from?" Hazel nodded towards the exhibit.

The Hunter shook her head. "No, it's stone dead. The signal's alive. Something's reaching out, calling for help." She touched the glass of the case almost absently, remembering past battles, and an alarm went off. Armed guards rushed in from all sides, cutting them off from the TARDIS.

Hazel bit her lip, looking around nervously. "If someone's collecting aliens, surely that makes you Exhibit A." The Hunter merely flashed her a grin.

***

The pair were escorted into an office as a young man was showing an older man a small device. "What does it do?" the older man questioned.

The young man seemed eager to impress. "Well, you see the tubes on the side? It must be to channel something. I think maybe fuel."

"I wouldn't hold it like that," the Hunter stated offhandedly.

"Shut it," a female guard, Goddard, ordered, elbowing her in the ribs.

The Hunter snorted, unaffected. "What? I wouldn't!"

"Is it dangerous?" the young man wondered.

The ginger rolled her eyes. "No, it just makes you look like an idiot." She held her hand out expectantly, and raised an eyebrow as she heard all the safeties in the room click off. The older man handed over the device. "You just need to be delicate," the Hunter advised, stroking the artefact gently to play a lilting melody.

"Can I?" Hazel asked, and played a few notes tentatively once her friend handed it over.

"It's a musical instrument," the older man realised.

"And it's a long way from home," the Hunter agreed.

"Here, let me." Hazel grudgingly let him take the instrument, on which he played much harsher notes.

The Hunter raised an eyebrow scathingly. "I did say delicate. It reacts to the smallest fingerprint. It needs precision." She sighed as the man managed to make music of a slightly less antagonistic note. "Well, I suppose that's better. Quite the expert."

"As are you," the man countered, tossing the instrument onto the floor nonchalantly. The Hunter narrowed her eyes a fraction. "Who exactly are you?"

"I'm the Hunter. And who are you?"

The man rolled his eyes, getting up and walking round behind them, making them turn around to keep him in their sights. "Like you don't know. We're hidden away with the most valuable collection of extra-terrestrial artefacts in the world, and you just stumbled in by mistake."

The Hunter crossed her arms, leaning against his desk. "Pretty much, yeah."

"The question is, how did you get in? Fifty three floors down, with your little cat burglar accomplice." The man eyed Hazel with a smirk. "You're quite the collector yourself, she's rather pretty."

"And willing to cut you if you keep calling her she," Hazel put in with a sweet smile.

"English, too!" the man laughed, nudging his younger colleague. "Hey, little Lord Fauntleroy. Got you a girlfriend."

The Hunter rolled her eyes and the young man straightened. "This is Mr Henry Van Statten."

"Who's he when he's at home?" Hazel questioned, raising her eyebrows.

"Mr Van Statten owns the internet," the younger man supplied.

Hazel scoffed. "Don't be stupid. No one owns the internet."

Van Statten nodded emphatically. "And let's just keep the whole world thinking that way, right kids?"

"So you're just about an expert in everything except the things in your museum. Anything you don't understand, you lock up," the Hunter said.

"And you claim greater knowledge?" Van Statten raised his eyebrows.

The Hunter's face didn't give away a thing. "Please, I know how clever I am. Claims are for the lacking."

"And yet I captured you," Van Statten pointed out. "Right next to the Cage. What were you doing down there?"

"You tell me," the Hunter challenged, cocking an eyebrow.

"The cage contains my one living specimen," Van Statten stated proudly.

"And what's that?" the Hunter questioned.

Van Statten scoffed. "Like you don't know."

"Show me," the ginger ordered.

"You want to see it?"

Hazel rolled her eyes. "Yeah, lovely, battle of the brains, but can we move on?"

Van Statten nodded at Goddard. "Inform the cage we're heading down. You, English, look after the girl. Go and canoodle or spoon or whatever it is you British do. And you, Hunter with no name, come and see my pet."

The Hunter lagged behind to whisper something in the young man's ear, something that made him straighten, his eyes widen. Smirking, the Hunter strode off after Van Statten.

***

After a lift ride that had taken them several floors lower, the pair walked out towards an area buzzing with scientists outside a large black room, sealed off. "We've tried everything," Van Statten was saying. "The creature has shielded itself, but there's definite signs of life inside."

The Hunter narrowed her eyes a fraction. "Inside? Inside what?"

A scientists came up to greet them. "Welcome back, sir. I've had to take the power down. The Metaltron is resting."

"Metaltron?" the Hunter repeated, raising her eyebrows.

"Thought of it myself. Good, isn't it?" Van Statten smiled proudly, ignoring the Hunter rolling her eyes. "Although I'd much prefer to find out its real name."

The scientist handed the Time Lady a pair of thick leather gloves. "Here, you'd better put these on. The last guy that touched it burst into flames."

"I won't touch it then," the Hunter shrugged, but put the gauntlets on over her own fingerless gloves.

"Go ahead, Hunter," Van Statten said, gesturing towards the Cage's entrance. "Impress me."

The Time Lady walked through it, not flinching as the door closed behind her, plunging the already dim room into darkness. "I'm sorry about this," she said to the creature being held captive, though she couldn't yet see it. "Mr Van Statten thinks he's clever, but that's only one of the many things he's wrong about. I've come to help. I'm the Hunter."

Across the room, a white light blinked on and off next to a circular blue glow. "Hun-ter?" a rasping voice asked, and the Time Lady blanched.

"Impossible," she swore, her eyes wide.

"The Hunter?" the creature asked. The lights came on to reveal the chained-up Dalek. "Exterminate! Exterminate!"

The Hunter ran for the locked door, banging on it in pure unadulterated fear. "Let me out!"

"Exterminate! You are an enemy of the Daleks! You must be destroyed!" It's gun twitched, but didn't fire.

"It's not working," the Hunter realised. She laughed a little in relief, wiping tears of terror from her cheeks. "Fantastic. Oh, fantastic! Powerless! Look at you. The great space dustbin. How does it feel?" she goaded, coming closer to it now she knew it was safe.

"Keep back!" the Dalek threatened, moving ineffectually.

"What for?" the Hunter demanded. "What're you going to do to me? Your people took everything from me already! What could you possibly do to me now? If you can't kill, then what are you good for, Dalek? What's the point of you? You're nothing! Why the hell are you here?!"

"I am waiting for orders," the Dalek stated.

"What does that mean?" the Hunter snorted.

"I am a soldier. I was bred to receive orders," the Dalek explained.

"Well, you're never going to get any," the Hunter told it. "Not ever."

"I demand orders!"

"They're never going to come!" the Hunter shouted. "Your race is dead! You all burnt, all of you. Ten million ships on fire. The entire Dalek race wiped out in one second."

"You lie!" the Dalek accused.

The Hunter shook her head. "I watched it happen. I made it happen."

"You destroyed us?"

"I had no choice," the Hunter muttered.

"And what of the Time Lords?" the Dalek questioned, its eyestalk shifting.

"Dead," the Hunter stated bluntly. "They burnt with you. The end of the last great Time War. Everyone lost."

The Dalek regarded her. "And the coward survived."

The Hunter rolled her eyes. "Oh, I caught your little signal. 'Help me!' Poor little thing. But there's no one else coming cause there's no one else left."

"I am alone in the universe," the Dalek realised.

"Yep," the Hunter agreed cheerfully.

"So are you. We are the same."

"We are not the same!" the Hunter protested. "I'm not -!" She paused for a moment, a malicious smirk sliding onto her face as she had a thought. "No, wait. Maybe we are. You're right. Yeah, okay, you've got a point. Cause I know what to do. I know what should happen. I know what you deserve." She walked over to a nearby console, and flicked a lever, electrocuting the Dalek. "Exterminate," she whispered, smiling as she watched its pain. This wasn't sadism. This was retribution.

"Have pity!" the Dalek screamed.

"Why should I?" the Hunter demanded, glaring at it bitterly. "You never did!"

"Help me!"

Suddenly, the doors opened, and guards grabbed the Hunter, holding her back as she tried to amp up the electricity. In her state, it didn't even occur to her to use her telekinesis.

"I saved your life," Van Statten stated as he marched in. "Now talk to me. Goddamn it, talk to me!"

One of the scientists turned off the electricity, and the Hunter cursed. "You've got to destroy it!" she yelled, even as the guards dragged her out of the Cage.

"The last in the universe," Van Statten marvelled. "And now I know your name. Dalek. Speak to me, Dalek." The alien didn't make a sound. "I am Henry Van Statten, now recognise me!" He shook his head. "Make it talk again, Simmons. Whatever it takes."

***

As it turned out, the young man was called Adam, and he had a workshop - a very cluttered one, too. "Sorry about the mess," Adam grinned sheepishly. "Mr Van Statten sort of lets me do my own thing, so long as I deliver the goods. What do you think that is?" He picked up a piece of metal about an inch thick.

Hazel shook her head, rolling her eyes. "A lump of metal," she replied, like it was obvious.

"Yeah. Yeah, but I think, well, I'm almost certain, it's from the hull of a spacecraft. The thing is, it's all true," Adam explained excitedly. "Everything the United Nations tries to keep quiet: spacecraft, aliens, visitors to Earth. They really exist."

"That's amazing," Hazel drawled sarcastically, rolling her eyes again when he wasn't looking.

Adam didn't seem to hear her insincerity. "I know it sounds incredible, but I honestly believe the whole universe is just teeming with life."

"I'm gobsmacked, yeah," Hazel nodded, sounding about as unimpressed as she could possibly could be. "And you, what, sit here and catalogue it?"

"Best job in the world," Adam grinned.

Hazel shrugged. "But imagine if you could get out there. Travel amongst the stars and see it for real."

"Yeah, I'd give anything," Adam nodded. "I don't think it's ever going to happen. Not in our lifetimes."

"Oh, you never know," Hazel smiled, biting her lip. "What about all those people who say they've been inside of spaceships and things and talked to aliens?"

"I think they're nutters," he told her unabashedly.

Hazel blinked, put out. "Yeah." She sighed. "So, how'd you end up here?"

"Van Statten has agents all over the world looking for geniuses to recruit," Adam explained.

"Oh, right, you're a genius." She rolled her eyes, not bothering to hide it this time.

He grinned. "Sorry, but yeah. I can't help it. I was born clever. When I was eight, I logged onto the US Defence System. Nearly caused World War Three."

Hazel, who had recently come just a bit too close to World War Three, scoffed. "What, and that's funny?"

Adam shrugged. "Well, you should've been there just to see them running about. Fantastic!"

She snorted, reminded of her travelling companion. "You sound like the Hunter."

"Are you and her...?" Adam checked coyly.

"No," she replied quickly. "We're just friends."

He nodded. "Good."

Hazel raised an eyebrow. "Why is it good?"

He shrugged, looking as if he hadn't meant to say it aloud. "It just is."

"So, wouldn't you rather be downstairs?" she asked, changing the subject as she sat on the corner of his desk, the way the Hunter had intimidated him earlier. "I mean, you've got these bits of metal and stuff, but Mr Van Statten's got a living creature down there."

"Yeah. Yeah, well, I did ask, but he keeps it to himself," Adam sighed, before catching Hazel's disappointed look and straightening. "Although, if you're a genius, it doesn't take long to patch through on the comms system."

Hazel grinned, glad her trick had worked. "Let's have a look, then."

"It doesn't do much, the alien," Adam explained as he typed. "It's weird. It's kind of useless. It's just like this great big pepper pot." Suddenly, his computer screen lit up with an image of the pepper pot screeching as a man in a lab coat took a huge drill to its metal casing.

"It's being tortured!" Hazel was horrified. "Where's the Hunter?"

Adam frowned at her sudden outburst. "I don't know."

Hazel made a decision. "Take me down there, now."

***

"The metal's just battle armour," the Hunter was explaining tensely as she, Goddard, and Van Statten entered the lift. "The real Dalek creature's inside."

"What does it look like?" Van Statten questioned eagerly.

"A nightmare," the Hunter replied bluntly. "It's a mutation. The Dalek race was genetically engineered. Every single emotion was removed except hate."

"Genetically engineered," he mused. "By whom?"

The Hunter sighed. "By a genius, Van Statten. By a man who was king of his own little world. You'd like him."

"It's been on Earth for over fifty years," Goddard stated, reading from a tablet. "Sold at a private auction, moving from one collection to another. Why would it be a threat now?"

"Because I'm here," the Hunter told her simply. "How did it get to Earth? Does anyone know?"

"The records say it came from the sky like a meteorite," Goddard supplied. "It fell to Earth on the Ascension Islands. Burnt in its crater for three days before anybody could get near it and all that time it was screaming. It must have gone insane."

"It must have fallen through time," the Hunter realised. "The only survivor."

"You talked about a war?" Goddard prompted.

"The Time War," the Hunter nodded, her eyes flickering with hurt. "The final battle between my people and the Dalek race."

"But you survived, too," Van Statten pointed out.

The Hunter snorted darkly. "Not through any fault of my own, I can assure you."

"This means that the Dalek isn't the only alien on Earth," Van Statten reasoned. "Hunter, there's you. The only one of your kind in existence." The Hunter looked up at him in horror.

***

Within ten minutes, she had been stripped down to her t-shirt and jeans, and chained to a slanted surface.

"Now, smile!" Van Statten grinned, activating a painful laser scan that ran down the Hunter's body, making her grimace. "Two hearts! Binary vascular system. Oh, I am so going to patent this."

"So that's your secret," the Hunter snarled through gritted teeth. "You don't just collect this stuff, you scavenge it."

Van Statten snorted derisively. "This technology has been falling to Earth for centuries. All it took was the right mind to use it properly. Oh, the advances I've made from alien junk. You have no idea, Hunter. Broadband? Roswell. Just last year my scientists cultivated bacteria from the Russian crater, and do you know what we found? The cure for the common cold. Kept it strictly within the laboratory of course. No need to get people excited. Why sell one cure when I can sell a thousand palliatives?"

"Do you know what a Dalek is, Van Statten?" the Hunter demanded. "A Dalek is honest. It does what it was born to do for the survival of its species." And after all she'd been through, after what had happened to her mother, and her father, and her brother, she truly meant it when she said, "That creature in your dungeon is better than you."

"In that case, I will be true to myself and continue," Van Statten shrugged.

The Hunter made a noise of frustration. "Listen to me! That thing downstairs is going to kill every last one of us!"

"Nothing can escape the Cage," Van Statten insisted, and blasted her with the laser again, making her clench her jaw and squeeze her eyes tightly shut.

As soon as she could talk again, she did. "But it's woken up. It knows I'm here. It's going to get out. Van Statten, I swear, no one on this base is safe. No one on this planet!"

***

"Hold it right there," one of the guards said, stepping in front of Adam and Hazel as they approached the Cage.

"Level three access," Adam stated, flashing his ID at the guard. "Special clearance from Mr Van Statten." They were let through, and he winced slightly as the door slammed shut behind them with a ring of finality. He noticed Hazel was walking forwards towards the pepper pot. "Don't get too close."

"Hello," she said softly, ignoring him completely. "Are you in pain? My name's Hazel Norton. I've got a friend, she can help. She's called the Hunter. What's your name?"

"Yes," the creature creaked, two beaker-shaped lights flickering upon its domed head.

Hazel frowned, confused. "Huh?"

"I am in pain," the creature clarified. "They torture me, but still they fear me. Do you fear me?"

"No."

"I am dying."

"No, we can help," Hazel assured it, her eyes widening.

"I welcome death," it told her. "But I am glad that before I die I have met a human who was not afraid."

She frowned. "Isn't there anything I can do?"

"My race is dead, and I shall die alone," the creature stated monotonously, although Hazel thought she could detect hidden sadness. She reached for its head.

"Hazel, no!" Adam shouted, jolting into her. She stumbled forwards, grabbing onto the head for balance. Almost immediately, she hissed, snatching her hand back to reveal a mild burn, and a fading golden handprint on the creature's shell.

As they watched, the creature became more animated, strained at the chains that bonded it. "Genetic material extrapolated. Initiate cellular reconstruction!" It broke the chains as a man in a lab coat ran in, carrying his drill.

"What the hell have you done?!" he demanded, probably worrying about how Mr Van Statten would react. The creature raised what looked like a sink plunger at him. He snorted. "What are you going to do? Sucker me to death?"

Hazel yelped as the creature did exactly that, and Adam dragged her out of the Cage. "It's killing him! Do something!"

"Conditions red!" one of the guards yelled. "Condition red!"

***

The Hunter looked up as sirens began to wail, then raised her eyebrows. "I told you so."

"I repeat, this is not a drill!" another guard shouted, from outside the room.

She made eye contact with Van Statten, whose cool composure had temporarily cracked, and said slowly and clearly, "Release me if you want to live."

***

Hazel jumped as she heard the Hunter's voice, loud and clear, coming through the comms system. "You've got to keep it in that cell," the Time Lady ordered.

"Art, it's all my fault!" Hazel cried, her eyes wide in horror.

"I've sealed the compartment," one of the guards reported. "It can't get out, that lock's got a billion combinations."

"A Dalek's a genius. It can calculate a thousand billion combinations in one second flat," the Hunter told him bluntly.

And sure enough, the door swung open. "Open fire!"

"Don't shoot it!" Van Statten's voice commanded angrily. "I want it unharmed."

"Hazel, get out of there!" the Hunter shouted.

One of the guards turned to a younger colleague. "De Maggio, take the civilians and get them out alive. That is your job, got that?"

She nodded, turning to Adam and Hazel. "You, with me."

"We're losing power," Goddard reported. "It's draining the base. Oh my God. It's draining entire power supplies for the whole of Utah."

"It's downloading," the Hunter corrected her.

"Downloading what?" Van Statten questioned.

"Sir, the entire West Coast has gone down."

"It's not just energy. That Dalek just absorbed the entire internet," the Hunter explained, grimacing. "It knows everything."

"The cameras in the vault have gone down," Goddard stated.

"We've only got emergency power," the Hunter told her. "It's eaten everything else. You've got to kill it now!"

After a moment, the order went through: "All guards to converge in the Metaltron cage, immediately."

***

De Maggio shouted ahead of them as they ran. "Civilians! Let them through!" The guards coming in the opposite direction spread to the sides, allowing the three of them safe passage through. Hazel swallowed as she saw people dying, the bullets they shot being absorbed into the Dalek's casing.

***

"Tell them to stop shooting at it," Van Statten commanded.

"But it's killing them!" Goddard protested.

"They're indispensable," Van Statten snapped. "That Dalek is unique. I don't want a scratch on its bodywork, do you hear me? Do you hear me?!"

The gunfire stopped after only a few moments, but only because there was no one left to shoot.

Goddard bit her lip, bringing up a schematic of the base for the Hunter to see. "That's us, right below the surface. That's the cage, and that's the Dalek."

The Hunter nodded, narrowing her eyes in concentration. "This museum, have you got any alien weapons?"

"Lots of them, but the trouble is that the Dalek's between us and them," Goddard supplied.

"We've got to keep that thing alive," Van Statten stated. "We could just seal the entire vault, trap it down there."

"Leaving everyone trapped with it?" the Hunter glared. "Hazel is down there. I won't let that happen. Have you got that?" She sighed, turning back to the schematic. "It's got to go through this area. What's that?"

"Weapons testing," Goddard answered.

The Hunter nodded. "Give guns to the technicians, the lawyers, anyone. Everyone. Only then have you got a chance of killing it."

***

"Stairs!" Hazel exclaimed, her eyes lighting up. "That's more like it. It hasn't got legs. It's stuck."

"It's coming!" De Maggio warned. "Get up!"

They sprinted a flight before looking back down to the Dalek. "Great big alien death machine defeated by a flight of stairs," Adam jeered.

"Now listen to me," De Maggio stated firmly, aiming her gun at the Dalek with an unwavering grip. "I demand that you return to your cage. If you want to negotiate then I can guarantee that Mr Van Statten will be willing to talk. I accept that we imprisoned you, and maybe that was wrong, but people have died, and that stops right now. The killing stops. Have you got that? I demand that you surrender. Is that clear?"

The Dalek regarded her for a moment with its lone eyestalk. Then, it said, "Elevate," and began to rise, floating up the stairs.

"Oh my God," Hazel breathed, stumbling back.

"Adam, get her out of here," De Maggio ordered, not looking back.

"Come with us," Hazel pleaded. "You can't stop it."

De Maggio shook her head bravely. "Someone's got to try. Now get out! Don't look back. Just run."

Adam dragged Hazel away, forcing her to run, even when they heard the agonized dying scream of the woman whose name they hadn't even thought to ask.

***

"I thought you were the great expert, Hunter," Van Statten sneered. "If you're so impressive, then why not just reason with this Dalek? It must be willing to negotiate. There must be something it needs. Everything needs something."

The Hunter closed her eyes briefly in annoyance. "What's the nearest town?"

"Salt Lake City," Van Statten replied automatically.

"Population?"

"One million."

"All dead," the Hunter answered bluntly. "If the Dalek gets out, it'll murder every living creature. That's all it needs."

Van Statten frowned. "But why would it do that?"

"Because it honestly believes they should die. Human beings are different, and anything different is wrong. It is the ultimate in racial cleansing, and you, Van Statten, you've let it loose!" the Hunter accused angrily, before checking herself. In a much calmer voice, she said, "The Dalek's surrounded by a force field. The bullets are melting before they even hit home, but it's not indestructible. If you concentrate your fire, you might get through. Aim for the dome, the head, the eyepiece. That's the weak spot."

The man commanding the guards scoffed. "Thank you, Hunter, but I think I know how to fight one single tin robot. Positions!" Adam and Hazel ran into view, and the man held up a hand, irritated. "Hold your fire! You two, get the hell out of there!" Without pausing even to gripe at the man, they ran to the other side as fast as they could, leaving just after the Dalek entered.

***

"It was looking at me," Hazel worried, gasping for breath.

Adam wasn't that concerned. "Yeah, it wants to slaughter us."

"I know," Hazel growled. "But it was looking right at me."

"So?" Adam shrugged, encouraging her to keep walking at least. "It's just a sort of metal eye thing. It's looking all around."

"I don't know," she sighed. "It's like there's something inside, looking at me, like, like it knows me."

***

"On my mark. Open fire!"

"We've got vision," Goddard noted as the screen flickered into life, showing the guards shooting at the Dalek.

"It wants us to see," the Hunter muttered, frowning. What was it doing? Then she blanched as she saw what the Dalek had in mind. It shot at the fire alarm, setting off the sprinklers. As soon as the floor was covered in a watery sheen, it fires downwards, electrocuting the people.

Van Statten winced slightly as he watched the massacre. "Perhaps it's time for a new strategy. Maybe we should consider abandoning this place."

"Except there's no power to the helipad, sir," Goddard pointed out. "We can't get out."

"You said we could seal the vault?" the Hunter prompted, raising an eyebrow and crossing her arms.

"It was desgined to be a bunker in the event of nuclear war," Van Statten nodded. "Steel bulkheads."

"There's not enough power, those bulkheads are massive," Goddard reasoned.

The Hunter shook her head. "We've got emergency power. We can re-route that to the bulkhead doors."

"We'd have to bypass the security codes," Goddard frowned. "That would take a computer genius."

"Good thing you've got me, then," Van Statten shrugged.

"You want to help?" the Hunter asked, surprised.

"I don't want to die, Hunter," he stated. "Simple as that. And nobody knows this software better than me."

"Ma'am," Goddard warned, seeing the Dalek was looking up at the camera on the screen, sitting in the pool of water amongst the corpses it had created.

"I shall speak only to the Hunter," the Dalek stated, monotonously as usual.

"You're going to get rusty," the Hunter joked half-heartedly. She hadn't quite expected to be faced with her greatest enemy this soon, if at all.

"I fed off the DNA of Hazel Norton. Extrapolating the biomass of a time traveller regenerated me," it explained.

"What's your next trick?" the Hunter asked, trying to gauge its plan.

"I have been searching for the Daleks."

"Yeah, I saw," she admitted. "Downloading the internet. What did you find?"

"I scanned your satellites and radio telescopes," it elucidated.

"And?" she raised her eyebrows.

"Nothing," it stated. "Where shall I get my orders now?"

"You're just a soldier without commands," the Hunter goaded, wondering for a second if those words didn't apply to herself.

"Then I shall follow the Primary Order, the Dalek instinct to destroy, to conquer," the Dalek decided.

The Hunter scoffed. "What for? What's the point? Don't you see it's all gone? Everything you were, everything you stood for."

The Dalek paused momentarily. "Then what should I do?"

"All right, then. If you want orders, follow this one." She took a deep breath. "Kill yourself."

"The Daleks must survive!" it protested.

"The Daleks have failed!" she countered. "Why don't you finish the job and make the Daleks extinct. Rid the universe of your filth. Why don't you just die?"

The Dalek was silent for minutes, and then, "You would make a good Dalek." The screen went blank, and the Hunter swallowed hard, her eyes wide.

"Seal the vault," she ordered.

"I can leech power of the ground defences, feed it to the bulkheads," Van Statten announced, grinning. "God, it's been years since I had to work this fast."

The Hunter raised her eyebrows, unimpressed. "Are you enjoying this?"

"Hunter, she's still down there," Goddard reminded her.

***

Hazel growled when her phone rang as they ran up the stairs. "This had better be bloody brilliant."

"Where are you?" the Hunter's voice inquired tensely.

"Level forty nine," Hazel replied, glancing at a sign as they rounded onto the next sign.

"You've got to keep moving," the Hunter encouraged. "The vault's being sealed off up at level forty six."

"Can't you stop them closing?" Hazel frowned, breathing heavily. She had a stitch, and had done for a while.

The Hunter hesitated. "I'm the one who's closing them. I can't wait, and I can't help you. Now run."

***

"Done it," Van Statten announced triumphantly. "We've got power to the bulkheads."

"The Dalek's right behind them," Goddard stated, watching their progress on a monitor.

"We're nearly there," Hazel panted. "Give us two seconds."

"Hunter, I can't sustain the power," Van Statten warned. "The whole system is failing. Hunter, you've got to close the bulkheads."

The Hunter bit her lip. "I'm sorry." She hit enter.

***

Hazel jumped as a loud klaxon sounded, the bulkhead starting to lower at the end of the corridor.

"Come on!" Adam cried, ahead of her. He rolled under the bulkhead with inches to spare, but Hazel wasn't so lucky.

***

Van Statten nodded. "The vault is sealed."

The Hunter lifted the phone to her ear. "Haze, where are you? Hazel, did you make it?"

"Sorry," a small, breathless voice came through, sounding scared. "I was a bit slow. See you then, Art." The Time Lady froze. "It wasn't your fault, so don't fucking blame yourself. Remember that, okay? It wasn't your fault. And do you know what? I wouldn't have missed it for the world."

The Dalek's tinny voice took over. "Exterminate!"

The Hunter hung up numbly, hearing the other phone clatter to the floor. "I killed her," she whispered, her eyes wide in horror.

"I'm sorry," Van Statten stated, bowing his head.

She tuirned him. "I said I'd protect her. She was only here because of me, and you're sorry?! I could've killed that Dalek in its cell, but you stopped me."

"It was the prize of my collection!" Van Statten protested.

"Your collection?" The Hunter scoffed. "But was it worth it? Worht all those men's deaths? Worth Hazel? Let me tell you something, Van Statten. Mankind goes into space to explore, to be part of something greater."

"Exactly!" Van Statten exclaimed. "I wanted to touch the stars!"

"You just want to drag the stars down and stick them underground, underneath tons of sand and dirt and label them. You're about as far from the stars as you can get. And you took her down with you." The Hunter covered her mouth and turned away, choking back tears. "She was twenty years old."

***

Down on level forty six, Hazel stared down the Dalek, trying not to show how utterly terrified she was. "Go on, then. Kill me. Why're you doing this?"

"I am armed," it told her. "I will kill. It is my purpose."

"They're all dead because of you," she accused.

"They are dead because of us," the Dalek corrected.

She shrugged, conceding the point. "And now what? What're you waiting for?"

"I feel your fear," it stated.

Hazel snorted, her voice catching. "What do you expect?"

"Daleks do not fear. Must not fear." It shot at the wall to either side of her, making her yelp, falling to the ground and flinchign with every shot. "You gave me life. What else have you given me? I am contaminated."

***

The Hunter glared as Adam entered, not even seeming out of breath. "You were quick on your feet, leaving Hazel behind."

"I'm not the one who sealed the vault!" the boy shot back.

"Open the bulkhead or Hazel Norton dies." Everyone whipped around to look at the screen as the Dalek's voice emanated from it. The Dalek was looking up at the camera, with its gun pointed towards Hazel, who was standing just in front of it, her eyes wide and scared.

"You're alive!" the Hunter exclaimed, grinning in delight.

Hazel cracked a smile that didn't quite hide her fear. "'S gonna take more than a pepper pot to get rid of me."

"I thought you were dead," the Hunter sighed, her relief obvious.

"Open the bulkhead!" the Dalek ordered.

"Don't you bloody dare," Hazel added, shaking her head emphatically.

"What use are emotions if you will not save the woman you love?" the Dalek taunted.

The Hunter hesitated, feeling four sets of human eyes on her. Then she shook her head. "I killed her once. I can't do it again." She opened the bulkhead door, and Hazel and the Dalek went through.

"What do we do now, you bleeding heart," Van Statten demanded. "What the hell do we do?!"

"Kill it when it gets here," Adam suggested.

"All the guns are useless, and the alien weapons are in the vault," Goddard pointed out.

Adam raised an eyebrow. "Only the catalogued ones."

***

The Hunter made various faces of exasperation as she went through the weapons Adam had yet to catalogue. "Broken. Broken." She frowned, looking at one in particular with a snort. "Hairdryer."

"Mr Van Statten tends to dispose of his staff, and when he does, he wipes their memory," Adam was saying. "I kept this stuff in case I needed to fight my way out one day."

She scoffed. "What, you in a fight? I'd like to see that."

"I could do," Adam muttered defensively.

"What're you going to do, throw your A-Levels at 'em?" the Hunter snorted absently, before grinning as she found a working weapon. "Oh, yes. Lock and load."

***

"I'm begging you, don't kill them," Hazel pleaded. "You didn't kill me."

"But why not?" the Dalek questioned. "Why are you alive? My function is to kill. What am I? What am I?"

The lift doors opened and the pair entered the office where Van Statten and Goddard were standing, looking terrified.

"Don't move," Hazel warned. "Don't do anything. I think it's having an existential crisis."

The Dalek moved up to the man. "Van Statten. You tortured me. Why?"

"I wanted to help you," Van Statten tried. "I just, I don't know. I was trying to help. I thought if we could get through to you, if we could mend you. I wanted you better. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry! I swear, I just wanted you to talk!" He backed up as the Dalek approached.

"Then hear me talk now. Exterminate! Exterminate! Exterminate!"

Hazel jumped in before the Dalek could shoot. "Don't do it!" she cried, only half questioning whether she was sane, protecting this man. "Don't kill him! You don't have to do this anymore. There must be something else, not just killing. What else is there? What do you want?"

Eventually, after a long pause, the Dalek said, "I want freedom."

***

On level one, the Dalek shot a hole in the roof, streaming a shaft of sunlight down upon it and Hazel.

"You're out. You made it." She smiled as she felt the warmth of the sun on her face. "I never thought I'd feel the sunlight again."

The Dalek's eyestalk moved to look at her. "How does it feel?" When she shrugged, it opened its middle and top sections to reveal a one-eyed mutant thing within. It held out one small tentacle into the sunlight.

"Get out of the way. Haze, get out of the way now!" the Hunter shouted, holding up a powerful-looking gun towards the Dalek. Her eyes were hard with hatred.

"No," Hazel shook her head, biting her lip. "I won't let you do this."

The Hunter's eyes flickered towards her, surprise evident. "That thing killed hundreds of people. My brother -" She broke off.

"It's not the one pointing the gun at me," Hazel muttered, raising her eyebrows.

"I've got to do this," the Time Lady implored. "I've got to end it. The Daleks destroyed my home, my people. I've got nothing left."

"Look at it," Hazel suggested, turning so she could see without giving her room to shoot.

For the first time, the Hunter faltered, her aim dropping. "What's it doing?"

"It's the sunlight, that's all it wants," Hazel explained.

"But -"

"It couldn't kill Van Statten, and it couldn't kill me. It's changing," Hazel tried. "What about you, Hunter? What the hell are you changing into?"

The Hunter recognised the shock in her companion's eyes and sighed, putting her gun down and wiping her hands over her face. "I couldn't - I wasn't -" She bit her lip. "Oh, Haze... They're all dead."

"Why do we survive?" the Dalek asked, almost plaintively.

"I don't know," the Hunter replied, laughing slightly as a tear fell down her cheek.

"I am the last of the Daleks."

She shook her head. "You're not even that. Hazel did more than regenerate you. You've absorbed her DNA. You're mutating."

"Into what?" the Dalek wondered.

"Something new. I'm sorry."

Hazel frowned. "Isn't that better?"

"Not for a Dalek," the Hunter answered.

"I can feel so many ideas," the Dalek stated. "So much darkness. Hazel, give me orders. Order me to die."

Hazel looked horrified. "I can't do that."

"This is not life. This is sickness. I shall not be like you. Order my destruction! Obey! Obey! Obey!"

Hazel covered her mouth, sobbing. "Do it."

"Are you frightened, Hazel Norton?" the Dalek asked.

"Yeah," she admitted.

"So am I," the Dalek agreed. "Exterminate." It shut its eye.

Hazel back up to the Hunter as the Dalek closed up its armour and rose up into the air. The balls from its lower body floated out around it, creating a forcefield, in which it imploded, protecting the girls.

When the light died down, Hazel turned and threw herself into the Hunter's arms, breathing heavily. Neither of them said anything for a long time.

***

The Hunter smiled as they found the TARDIS again, patting the old girl gently. "A little piece of home. Better than nothing."

"Is that the end of it, the Time War?" Hazel asked, biting her lip. She wasn't sure she ever wanted to see something like that ever again.

"I'm the only one left," the Hunter mused. "I win. How about that?"

"The Dalek survived," Hazel pointed out. "Maybe some of your people did too."

The Hunter shook her head sadly. "I'd know. In here." She tapped her temple. "Feels like there's no one."

"Well then," Hazel smiled cheekily, "good thing I'm not going anywhere."

"Yeah," the Hunter grinned.

"We'd better get out," Adam called as he hurried towards them, making the easy smile slip off the Hunter's face. "Van Statten's disappeared. They're closing down the base. Goddard says they're going to fill it full of cement, like it never existed."

"About time," Hazel snorted.

"I'll have to go back home," Adam stated stagily.

"Better hurry up then," the Hunter said cheerfully, checking her watch. "Next flight to heathrow leaves at fifteen hundred hours."

Hazel bit her lip, then sighed. "Adam was saying that all his life he wanted to see the stars."

"Tell him to go and stand outside, then," the Hunter raised an eyebrow.

"He's all on his own, Art, and he did help," Hazel implored.

"He left you down there," the Hunter pointed out.

"So did you," Hazel shot back.

The Hunter narrowed her eyes. "I'm feeling kind of attacked right now."

"What're you talking about?" Adam sighed. "We've got to leave."

"Plus, he's a bit..." The Hunter made a face. "...Pretty."

Hazel blinked innocently. "Really? I hadn't noticed."

The Hunter sighed, rolling her eyes. "On your own head," she warned, unlocking the TARDIS.

"What're you doing?" Adam frowned. "She said cement. She wasn't joking. We're going to get sealed in." He narrowed his eyes as the girls went inside the TARDIS. "Hunter? What're you doing standing inside a box? Hazel?" Uncertainly, he crept inside the box. The doors slammed shut behind him, and the TARDIS dematerialised.

~~~

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