Chapter Text
“It’s this way, I’m positive,” the Doctor declared from several steps ahead of you. “Not too much further.”
She’d been saying a variation of that phrase for the past hour.
You lifted your feet over the twisting roots that covered the ground of the largely untrodden forest, forever mystified by how the Doctor maneuvered over obstacles with a long coat like hers.
“You’re putting the kettle on immediately when we get back,” you huffed. “And I’m opening that packet of biscuits you’ve been saving for a special occasion. This is special enough.”
Getting back. A concept that wouldn’t be on your radar for another few hours, with the way this was going.
The Doctor murmured a response that could’ve been an uh-huh, a general observational grunt, or an indication of something much worse. You couldn’t quite pinpoint when all her conversational murmurs began to blur together, and yet you could always separate them into various Doctor-ey emotions.
She abruptly turned on her heel, guided by an unknown force.
An observational noise, then.
“The humming is getting louder. Can’t you hear it? Seriously, what’s the point of humans having two ears when you can’t hear even the most basic frequencies?”
The gentle bullying of your species was an indication that the two of you had been walking for a little bit too long, and she was reaching the end of her tether. Still, you trailed behind her without question. This formed the routine of your everyday life. Wherever she went, you followed.
She threw a look at you over her shoulder, and slowed her pace until she was walking alongside you. Her free hand came to rest between your shoulder blades, slowly drifting down to the small of your back as she veered to the right, guiding you with her.
“I know it’s been a long day, and I’m feeling it too. But I’m absolutely, positively certain we’re nearly there.”
Worry tinged the edges of her tone.
It had been several hours since the TARDIS had jolted mid-flight as a distress call came in. Hours since the Doctor hauled all those levers on the console and altered the course, bringing the two of you to this planet. Hours since she’d thrown open those blue doors and revealed dense forests and jagged mountain ranges. Way, way too far from the source of the signal.
You were supposed to go on that beachside holiday she had been promising you. Another time, she had said as her eyes flicked around the console. I promise! She'd said defensively when you'd raised your eyebrows. When have I ever lied to you?
“It’s okay, we’re doing all we can,” you tried. You were never sure if your reassuring words found their mark; still, you tried. She didn’t reply.
Her other arm was still stuck out in front of her, the glowing amber of her sonic dancing between her fingertips, guiding you both into the green unknown.
The buzzing emanating from her sonic upped an octave, and the Doctor let out a small ah. Then, as quickly as she appeared at your side, she vanished into the foliage.
You plunged your focus into keeping up with her now, straying from the beaten path, forearms raised above your head to shield yourself from stray branches—
The atmosphere shifted, trees giving way to an open landscape of dirt and stone. Twenty steps ahead, the ground abruptly ended, plummeting into an unforgiving ravine. Balanced across the gap in an unfortunate - or perhaps lucky - position, was a spaceship no larger than a one-bedroom apartment. The Doctor was over there in a leap and bound, sonicking a side door.
You walked over and placed one hand on the side of the ship. It was slightly warm to the touch.
“Appears to be a rogue explorer squad ship. Common around these parts,” the Doctor said quietly, grabbing the door handle and sliding it open with a slight rattle. She paused, the air stilling as her gaze lingered on you. “It’s human. Not too far into your future.”
She hoisted herself into the ship before turning around and offering her hand to you in silent question. You took it as you’d done a million times before, letting her pull you through the doorway.
“Antramnius-B is a captivating place. I've only visited once or twice, but not since a few regenerations ago. Overgrown forests, deep cave systems, and occupied by a native alien species,” her voice had slight echo in the empty confines of the ship. “Great planet, in theory. That being said, no humans are known to occupy it. Not for another few centuries, at least.”
You nodded, looking around the ship. It was well and truly unoccupied. Dust had made its way in through the shattered windows and was beginning to settle on every surface. The ghostlike silence was broken by a persistent beeping that broke from the console, instantly drawing the Doctor towards it like a moth to a light.
You let her tinker away at the front, doing a lap of the ship on your own to look for anything out of the ordinary. There were open compartments, belongings scattered across floors and chairs. Sleeping pods were unmade, the sheets strewn everywhere. Something was off; its inhabitants - dead or alive - were nowhere to be seen.
Upon returning, you found the Doctor crouched in front of the console, pulling various components apart in search of the ship’s black box. You sank into one of the seats in front of the console, immediately feeling the tiredness in your legs. Your hands brushed against something cold and metallic. The seatbelt; buckled but ripped open. An uncomfortable weight settled in your gut.
“Forests, caves, oxygen, and water are enough to get you lot to come sniffing,” the Doctor observed aloud, freeing you from your train of thought. “It’s not surprising to find a human ship here, I mean. Except it is. Because it shouldn’t be here.”
An obvious contradiction. It would’ve surprised you, if you didn’t travel with the Doctor.
“If this planet is occupied, why haven’t we seen anyone?”
“Asking the right questions. Why haven’t we seen anyone?,” she repeated back to you, grabbing a handful of wires and scattering them on the floor behind her. "This planet isn’t as densely populated as Earth, for example, but its population is significant enough that we probably should’ve seen someone by now. It’s a lovely day, I’m surprised no one’s out walking the dog.”
You rocked back and forth in the seat. “Now that you say it, I don’t think we’ve seen many animals, either.”
“Well, this planet has an intricate cave system, reaching from the mountain summits deep into the planet’s core. Most of its creatures have evolved in its caves and still reside there, some only venturing out when the sun sets.”
“Hmm. Could it be that an animal caused the ship to crash?”
The Doctor yanked on something inside the console, to no avail. She met your waiting gaze briefly. “No. Well… I don’t think so. I couldn’t imagine how, since most of them are ground-dwelling. Or underground-dwelling. Nocturnal. Et cetera.”
You looked around the ship again, racking your brain for clues.
“If I crashed, I’d stay close to the safety of my ship, unless it was unsafe to do so. Right? Is the race on this planet peaceful?”
“How do you define peaceful?” the Doctor shrugged. “Humans are incredibly intelligent and compassionate, and you still have wars and climate change and Facebook arguments.”
You uncrossed your legs and stood up, the squeak of the chair announcing your movement.
“Don’t wander off,” her focus was pinned on you now. She pointed a finger at you. “Not until we have figured out what happened here.”
“I won’t,” you said, not even trying to sound reassuring, and made your way back to the open door.
Her eyes followed you, brows slightly furrowed. She gave you that look; that look that suggested she didn’t entirely believe you, but hoped that you’d do the right thing anyway.
“I won’t!”
“I’ll believe it when I see it.”
She turned her attention back to the guts of the ship. You braced a hand against the open doorway, gazing towards the forest ahead, and slid yourself onto the steel floor. Your feet dangled about a foot from the ground.
The Doctor’s background tinkering made for a peaceful atmosphere. If you closed your eyes, it’s like you were back on the TARDIS, cross-legged, staring out the open door and mapping out the stars. Drifting, with a cup of tea in your hands. And a biscuit. You hoped that reality wasn’t too far into your future.
You gazed up to see the planet's eerily red sun crawling towards the horizon. You hadn’t noticed it this whole time; the forest canopy was in your way. You would’ve liked to explore the planet properly, if it wasn’t for the situation at hand. Perhaps another time.
Your eyes trailed across the landscape before snagging on some nearby shrubbery.
Between two trees, the bushes were parted.
You pushed yourself out of the ship, a small cloud of dust rising from the impact of your shoes. You craned your neck and took a few steps forward.
You peered down. As the dust dissipated, you noticed… bootprints. Pressed into the dirt, heading towards the gap in the shrubbery.
Brows furrowing, you picked up one of your feet, comparing the patterns on the soles of your shoes to that pressed into the dirt in front of you. Definitely not yours, and not the Doctor's, either. Her boots were not this chunky.
“Can you hand me those pliers?” The Doctor shouted from inside the vessel, a world away from you. “I think I saw an emergency toolkit out the back."
"I think you should come out here, actually." She uttered something unintelligible, swiftly followed by the clattering of tools and ship components.
She was at your side within seconds, her mouth forming around a small oh. Before you could launch into your own theory, she sprang ahead of you, sonic outstretched, coat billowing.
You followed her beyond the treeline, the trail immediately angling into a downwards slope. She was already twenty steps ahead of you. How was she moving so fast, and not tripping over her coat? The trail became so steep that you were inclined to lower yourself into a sitting position and inelegantly slide down.
About twenty minutes into hike number two of the day, the forest grew denser; denser than you thought was possible. The space between the trees appeared to shrink the further down the hill you traversed, the roots growing larger and twisting further out of the soil. They were enormous, larger than any root system you'd ever seen. Like a family of the giant fig trees you'd seen back on Earth, their roots coursed through the forest like hundreds of individual rivers. The Doctor, as usual, maneuvered them with little issue.
"Have you got a signal?"
"Nothing solid," she huffed, sticking her sonic out, then pulling it back to her face, scrunching her nose, and repeating. "There isn't much for the sonic to lock onto, just general lifeforms. Can't pinpoint what type, not yet. Not... close enough. Yet."
You looked down. She was following the boot prints. You caught up, falling into step beside her.
"Just think, though. If I hadn't wandered off…" you elbowed her. "I'm just saying. I'm not intentionally looking for trouble."
"Yeah, neither am I," she lied. "And yes, I admit, that was very clever of you - thank you - but stick closely now. They must've left in a hurry to get away from something. And we could very well be heading straight towards it."
Her warning was straight-forward, and you knew she was serious. Still, she raised her eyebrows at you in that mischievous way. Concerned as she was, she couldn't help her own curiosity.
The next few minutes went by mostly in silence, broken only by your ragged breathing and frantic footsteps. Cliffs rose up on either side of you, the massive roots crawling up them like a huge living fishnet.
At one point, you had to switch course to find your way around a root the size of a small car. The Doctor debated climbing on top of it - to get a good vantage point, was her spectacular reasoning - something you quickly talked her out of, much to her disappointment.
You continued on, the sky above darkening. Was that the sun going down, or the canopy growing too thick? You weren't entirely sure anymore.
Then she skidded to a halt and gasped, and swiftly stuck out her arm to stop you. She not-so-gracefully moved her arm further back, essentially pushing you behind her, and your breath caught in your throat when you realised why.
The ground just ended.
And plunged into the ravine. The bottom was completely shrouded in fog, making it impossible to calculate how deep it truly was.
This point of the ravine was significantly wider than the narrow part where the spaceship had crashed. Your breakfast nearly made its way up your throat when you looked down, so you took a few steps back.
The Doctor continued peering over the edge. It took everything in you not to grab her by the wrist and yank her back to safety.
"Well, that's not helpful," she uttered to no one in particular. "What are we supposed to do with—"
Something echoed from your left. A shrill noise that pierced the atmosphere, travelling from far away and bouncing off… the walls.
Obscured by a knotted grouping of tree roots and leaves the size of dinner plates, the limestone wall gave way to the gaping mouth of a cave.
It was tall; the size of a house, tree roots growing out of it as if trying to escape. Vines haphazardly framed the imposing entrance, giving way to the darkest shade of black you've ever seen. Darker than the space between the stars, as if it contained everything and nothing, beckoning you towards it. You peered down - only to see those same bootprints heading straight into that inky unknown, and your stomach roiled.
You expected the Doctor to plunge straight into that void before her common sense had the chance to kick in, but when you glanced over, that wasn't the case.
She stood there, looking at the cave entrance as if it looked back at her. Her hair slightly unkempt, sweat beading on her forehead. Dust rose from the ground to cling to her boots, her striped navy socks, and the hems of her pants.
This was her, completely in her element. Answering a call from an unknown recipient, following it into the unknown, wherever it may call her. There to help; to be a Doctor. Pausing, calculating. Considering all the potential consequences. Considering…
Her dark eyes fell on you.
You had the urge to look away, but couldn't bring yourself to follow through.
"I won't lie to you, this isn't going to be pleasant. Caves are not the most comfortable places. You can wait out here if you'd like, I could set up a perception filter to keep you—"
"No," you cut her off, and her mouth snapped shut, surprised. "We didn't come all this way for me to wait outside like a lost dog. I'm right behind you."
You spoke confidently, although your stomach pitched at the reality that now lay before you. She gave you a knowing look and smiled, just slightly, just enough to give you that extra ounce of courage.
A rogue, frigid breeze flowed out of the cave and through your hair and clothes.
"Alright then," the Doctor pushed out a breath, returning her attention to the ominous entrance ahead. "We better get a shift on."
Then, a beacon of hope and starlight, she stepped confidently into the cave, the darkness enveloping her like a blanket devoid of comfort.