Tyloric
Illogical Process of Elimination
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Left 4 Dead/Doctor Who: Caught in between reality and limbo, the Doctor finds himself on an alternate Earth. Unfortunately, this Earth is beyond saving in its current state. It's been ravaged by a pathogen that has turned nearly the entire population in to monsters. But there is still hope; he stumbles upon three survivors who have held out and survived against all odds. The Doctor isn't sure he can save this version of Earth, but he's determined to at least save them.
Originally written for the L4D Big Bang.
MAJOR SPOILERS TO DOCTOR WHO SERIES 5!
NOTE: There are some formatting issues (paragraphs where their shouldn't be, run-on paragraphs, spacing errors). This is a result of copy and pasting from the word document. I'll go back and fix these errors later.
He’d hardly recognized it at first as it had crept up on him slowly, only pouncing when he was at his most venerable. It had been so long since he’d experienced this emotion that It had taken quite a bit of his considerable intellect to properly identify it.
The Doctor had in fact been bored. It was an outrageous idea, really. He always had something he could be doing. There was always some place he could be, someone he could save. In this particular moment, however, he didn’t. Well, technically he couldn’t. The sensation didn’t last long, nearly five seconds, but it was enough of a stretch to catapult him in to action.
The Doctor was stuck in the TARDIS and couldn’t vacate it without being erased from reality itself. Not only that, the TARDIS itself was all that was keeping him grounded in reality. It was, for the most part, immobile. Sustaining an anomaly in an ever changing time stream isn’t a particularly easy task.
He quickly weighed his options and set upon the task of scanning the outside world. Where was he? When was he? You know; the basics. He twisted knobs, pulled levers, typed commands, going about each task in a much slower pace than he would normally have allowed himself. He just wasn’t sure what the TARDIS’ limits were. The Doctor would give her a task, a simple one at first, like what the climate was. If the TARDIS was able to answer him without much effort on her part, he would slowly climb up the ladder to more complex tasks; like what the year was.
He was, after a good ten minutes of tinkering, able to get all the data he usually found critical. He was, on Earth, as he expected and in the southern United States. That was good; he really didn’t travel to the west of the planet enough. All the other scans remained unremarkable, at least until he got down to the bottom of the screen. Local Human Population: 3.
The Doctor blinked and then frowned, ran that particular scan again with the results remaining the same. Naturally he came to the conclusion that he was just in some remote area of the country and that the only people nearby was one small family. Still, he ran a global analysis for good measure and almost wished he hadn’t. Global Human Population: <100,000,000.
There was still one more critical scan to run. Still wary of what the TARDIS could accomplish in its present state, he asked only one more critical piece of information: the date. The day and month were inconclusive, but neither was nearly as important as the year, which the TARDIS was indeed able to provide. The Doctor’s spirits sank when the year was displayed on the console: 2010.
That was all the information he needed to do something outrageously risky, something most people would consider completely bonkers. Fortunately, he was just that risky. He sprinted for the door and only hesitated for a brief second before he swung them open… and found himself face to face with someone’s, well, face. Or rather, what was left of someone’s face. The eyes were what drew the Doctor’s attention first. They were nearly completely glazed over; the pupils barely visible at all, even at this close a distance. This person had no nose; where the cartilage had once been there was just a vacant hole with the bone like outline of a nose, murky yellow fluid running out of it. It had no hair, and its flesh was a dead grey color which seemed to be flaking off.
The creature didn’t react to, or even seem to notice, the TARDIS doors swinging open or the Doctor standing there. It was just swaying wobbly from side to side as if it was having trouble keeping its balance. It reminded the Doctor distinctly of a decaying corpse.
The Doctor didn’t move right away. He kept carefully still and just… watched.
Then it did something unexpected; it blinked several times, as if it was startled to find something suddenly it its way. The creatures face twisted up in to a horrendous scowl and let out such a loud wail that the Doctor took a few instinctive steps backwards and just had the creature began to start forward he closed the door. The sound of pounding fists against wood started not a second later.
“Oh,” the Doctor said, bemused. “Perception filter, then.”
He turned and started back up towards the controls without missing a beat. When he reached them he sat down in his chair, draped one leg over the other, and began thinking.
The TARDIS said that the human population had all but been annihilated. The creature lingering outside his door clearly used to be human, but it was also equally clear it no longer was. Before the creature took notice to the Doctor it showed no sort of thought, showed no clear indication that it was thinking. When it did become aware of the Doctor, it immediately attacked, again showing no thought process in doing so. It didn’t hesitate.
He didn’t like where this train of thought was leading.
The Doctor smiled, inappropriately cheery.
“Okay then,” he said to no one in particular. “Local population is three. So, let’s go meet the locals.”
Zoey was doing her best to be a leader, but she wasn’t Bill. She didn’t have his honed instincts or his inherent intuition. Now that she was officially in a leadership position, she had to wonder if Bill hadn’t made it up as he went along, too. Well, she was using the term ‘official’ loosely, but all things considered she was the one who usually ended up making the final decision. Francis was too much of a hot head to and Louis was at times naïve.
It was times like these that she missed Bill terribly; the times when she had her doubts.
The island idea had worked, if only for a while. They’d been there for nearly ten months before the supplies began to wane, and they’d been at the eleven month mark when things started to go critical. So they’d gone to the main land to attempt to restock. Even as they set out Zoey had known the chance of being to do so were slim. The fact of the matter was there weren’t any supplies left, and now they were worse off than when they had started.
The three of them were in a makeshift safe room, which was really just the office area of an abandoned warehouse. It was surviving its purpose well enough; it had thick walls, plenty of furniture to barricade doors for the night and best of all: no windows. It was kind of like an apartment, when she thought about it. After moving all the furniture from the various offices to block off the main entrance that left a hallway with empty rooms. Naturally, they all bunkered down in the same room.
The walls in this particular room were manila with an old fashion oil lantern they’d found a while back. Sitting in the middle of the floor, its flame was finally starting to flicker. There was a diploma that hung on the wall furthest from the door, though Zoey hadn’t taken the time to read it. She’d lost interest in the past when the realized the world had no future.
She shook her head a bit harshly, trying to clear her head of those thoughts. Pessimism was a slippery slope, especially now. The world may be over, and there may be no hope of recovering, but she still refused to go out without a fight.
The boys were asleep in their sleeping bags on the wall opposite her. The three of them had actually gotten used to sleeping as near to each other as they could. She wondered what that might mean.
Then she heard what she could only classify as a whisper. She was not even sure she had heard it at first, thinking maybe her mind was playing tricks on her. Then she heard it again; it was coming from the other side of the office door. Suddenly, it ceased sounding like something as tame as a whisper and escalated to what could only be described as a heavy gust of wind.
“Get up,” she didn’t quite yell, but it was close.
The thing about living during an apocalypse, you become a very light sleeper. Both Louis and Francis were sitting up and grabbing their respective weapons out of reflex, even though their brains were still partially sleep addled.
“What’s going on?” Louis asked groggily but was already on his feet, fire axe gripped tightly in his hands. They’d all long since run out of ammo.
“No idea,” was her simple reply.
Francis, surprisingly, was alert. “Sounds like a god damn tornado.”
Then there was a new sound, a rough, wheezing sound that faded in and out but became much louder each time.
“What the hell is that?” Francis grounded out, hunting knife in one hand brass knuckles on his other. Zoey brandished a machete.
The noise grew louder and louder and then just stopped. Just like that, followed by a tense, eerie silence. They stood there, Zoey not at all sure what to do. So, they waited for what seemed like forever.
“Hello?” called a voice from outside the door. “Hellooooo?”
Zoey blinked.
“Come on out, then. I’m not going to bite.”
“What. The. ****?” Francis growled in a hushed tone. “Who the hell is that?”
Louis was frowning, but that old glimmer of hope was shining in his eye. “A survivor?”
“Sounds like it…,” Zoey replied.
“Yeah, sounds. Probably some kind of trick.”
“Trick?” Louis asked.
“Yeah, trick. Bastards are always changing and mutatin’ and ****. A trick.”
Zoey was less sure, “I’ve never heard one of them talk before.”
“Please?” the voice outside asked.
“Why don’t you come in here?” Louis shouted, for which Zoey swatted him on the side of the head. He cursed.
“That is an excellent question.” The voice yelled back. “And under normal circumstances I would be unhindered in doing so. But I am. Hindered, I mean. Stuck. So if you could just come out in to the hall we could talk a bit more quietly?”
Zoey noted the British accent. Whoever it was did raise a good point; shouting, even in doors, was just asking for a swarm. She was still uncertain.
“Who are you?” she called.
“The Doctor,” was the reply.
“A doctor?” Francis asked.
“The Doctor,” whoever it was said.
“Doctor Who?” Louis asked and Zoey was almost certain she heard the man on the other side of the door snort.
“Look, if you could just come out in to the hall this would all be so much simpler.”
Louis started toward the door and Zoey put a hand on his shoulder signaling to not. “Hold on, Louis.”
“Hold on? Someone is out there!”
“Yeah, but this whole thing smells,” Francis hissed.
“Yeah, something isn’t adding up,” Zoey agreed. “What does he mean he’s ‘stuck’? He got out there alright, didn’t he? And what was with all the racket earlier?”
“Well we won’t know until we check. We have to leave sometime anyway, right?”
Zoey bit her lip.
“…man has a point.” Francis said. “If whoever is out there is gonna try to kill us it’s gonna happen sooner or later. Might as well be sooner.”
Ever since Bill had died, Francis had been more level headed and had started offering legitimate opinions instead of being solely the comedy relief.
Zoey stared at the two of them for a moment before sighing, “Two against one, not much I can do, I guess.” Francis slapped her on the back.
The three of them went over to the door together, and with a grin Louis turned the knob and they stepped out in to the hallway.
The Doctor wad old. Well, old according to most standards. As a Time Lord he was middle aged, but that wasn’t the point. The point was that he had seen many, many things.
The people who walked out in the hallway broke his hearts.
There were three of them; two men, one woman. The tall white man had a vast array of tattoos on both his arms that ran up his shoulders and to his neck. His hair was short, unkempt, and stuck up in all directions. He had a beard that looked like it was haphazardly shaved with a piece of glass. He wore a sleeveless vest but had on a dark red t-shirt underneath.
The dark skinned man was in a similar condition, only thinner. He had on a white tee and blue jeans with a belt that, the Doctor noted, was pulled down to its last hole.
The woman had hair that looked like it hadn’t been cut in at least a year. She wore a green coat that was zipped up all the way with blue jeans. What set her apart from the other two were her eyes; they weren’t as dark her companions. They still had a bit of fire in them. There was something else… something-
“Who are you?” She asked.
He blinked, as if remembering where he was, “Ah, yes. Well, I’m the Doctor.”
“What is that thing? Police box?” The black man asked, noticing the label written across the top of the object. “What’s a police box?”
“Oh, that. Well it’s a camouflage. Well, it used to be. It’s stuck. Never bothered to get it fixed, I like this one.”
The man blinked. The Doctor smiled.
“A more interesting question;” the Doctor started. “Who are you three?”
The girl narrowed her eyes suspiciously, but answered, “Zoey. This is Louis and Francis.”
The Doctor beamed, “Yes, hello. Nice to meet you. So, I can see from your faces you have questions. Questions are good, I love questions. They’re the only real way to know things, and I also love knowing.”
“You’re rambling,” Zoey said simply.
“Yes, I love doing that too. Overload the mind of who ever you’re talking to, they’re less likely to ask questions I don’t feel like answering. But I can tell from your face—Zoey, right? – that overloading you would be particularly difficult so,” The doctor stepped slightly to the side of the doorway with a small grin on his face, “Why don’t you come inside?”
“Kinda small, don’t you…” Francis trailed off as he actually looked just beyond the Doctor to see a room. He wasn’t sure what else to call it. He tightened his grip on his knife nervously.
“This some kind of trick?” Louis glanced over to him, sharing the sentiment.
“Oh, yes.” The Doctor said brightly. “The best trick you will ever see. I promise.” Without warning he turned and ran up the ramp and to the center console. He pivoted on his heel and threw his arms in the air. He said something but was apparently too far away to be heard.
The three of them just stood there.
“What do you guys think?” Zoey asked.
Louis ran a hand over his face tiredly. “I don’t know.”
Francis narrowed his eyes. “Lets do it.”
They both turned to him, shocked.
The ex-con scowled. “What have we got to lose? He seems…” he hesitated, ”nice?”
“Nice?” Louis said under his breath.
“You feeling okay, Francis?” Zoey asked, a ghost of a smile on her face.
“I’m just sayin’… what’a we got to lose?”
The first few minutes on board the TARDIS were, naturally, spent in awe. The Doctor never got tired of it. He liked impressing people; it was one of his many guilty pleasures.
“How… is this possible?” Zoey asked weakly, gazing around in wonder. It was massive, larger than her college dorm. Larger than her parent’s house! The walls were curved and waved with pillars sticking out of the base at such odd angles that they couldn’t possibly be anything over than decorative. Cat walks were raised up off the floor which was a good five feet down. All the walk ways met each other in the center and circled around what Zoey could only describe as a giant machine.
“Quite simple, really; just fold one dimension on to another and repeat the process until you have the amount of space you need. The TARDIS does it all on her own.” The Doctor said as he patted the control console affectionately.
“Her? This thing is alive?” Louis asked.
He shrugged, “For the most part.”
“That’s a terrible answer.” The dark skinned man said.
The Doctor looked a offended. “Oi, maybe it was just a bad question. Ever think about that? Is she alive… what kind of question is that?”
“A good one!”
“Fair enough. Look, I’ll just get it all out of the way; yes, it is bigger on the inside. Yes, she is alive. I’m a Time Lord. Which means yes, I’m an alien and a time traveler. I’m the Doctor. I’m nine-hundred and ten years old… roughly. Any more questions?”
There was a moment before anyone responded. “A lot more, actually.” The woman said, crossing her arms.
“Well, they can wait. I’m sure you’re all tired. Follow me if you want to live.” The Doctor turned and walked away. The three survivors stood there shocked at what the Time Lord had just said. A split second later the Doctor came walking back looking a bit abashed, “Sorry… got caught up in the moment. I meant rest. Follow me if you want to rest.” He nodded once and spun on his heel.
The Doctor gave all three of them a suspicious look when all three of them stepped in to the same bathroom and it took Zoey a moment to realize why. It had been a while since any of them had had any real privacy and out in the city it was just safer to stick together, no matter what you were doing.
So she back tracked quickly when the boys went in one bathroom and they both gave her a knowing look. Zoey smiled, only slightly embarrassed, as the door slid shut (the doors here slide!) with her on the other side of it. Oddly, she wasn’t sure what she should have been feeling right then.
“Are they… together?” The Doctor asked cautiously.
She regarded him with eye brows raised. “What?”
“Romantically, I mean.” He clarified.
She blinked, running the idea over in her head. She chose her words carefully. “We’ve been out there for years now, Doctor… years just trying to get by, just trying to survive. I mean, when you’re all each other has… you get close.”
The Doctor stayed silent, his expression guarded.
Zoey laughed softly. “I don’t know if you can call it romance. I don’t know if they’ve even had sex. But…” she held her hands against her chest with her eyes closed and remembered Bill. “There’s definitely a bond.”
The Doctor didn’t say anything for a long moment. “There were more than three of you.” It wasn’t a question.
She smiled sadly at him, “Yeah. There were four of us when we started; the three of us… and Bill.”
The Doctor frowned, “I’m sorry.”
Zoey shrugged, “It’s just the way the world is now. Sometimes you live;” She paused as the memories overtook her for a second, “and sometimes you sacrifice everything.”
The bathroom slid door opened to reveal a naked Francis standing in the opening holding a small pile of garments. He dropped them on the ground just in front of Zoey. “Wash these for us, will ya babe?” He asked before he reached over to activate something and the door slid shut again.
“Ass!” She yelled at the door and was certain she heard him laugh. She glared at the door, but her heart wasn’t in it. She picked up the pile of dirty laundry. When she turned back around the Doctor was right in her face, smiling one of the happiest smiles she’d ever seen.
“Come with me.” He grabbed her hand and started pulling her down the corridor. They didn’t go far; a right turn, a left turn and they were there. They stopped in front of a door that looked no different that the bathroom door.
She looked up and down the hallway she now found herself in and found that it looked identical to the one they had just left; faded brown walls lines with sliding faded brown doors every six feet. “How do you not get lost?”
“Practice.” The Doctor said as he pressed the panel on the wall. The door slid open to reveal a janitors closet.
Zoey looked at him flatly.
“Ah.” The Doctor said. He raised his eyebrows and glanced in her direction. “That’s…” He turned and went further down the hall while she stood there and watched him. He pressed another door panel. When the door slid open he shook his head, apparently displeased.
“Where did I put it?” He went over to the next door in line and opened it. “Ah, so that’s where that went.”
Zoey was doing her best not to smile as she started to trail after him at a distance. It was funny; the more time she spent in this man’s company, the more at ease she felt with him. “What are you looking for?”
He stopped to look at her, opened his mouth, shut it, opened, shut, and said, “…it’s a surprise,” turned, and tried another door. He huffed, “Where is it?” He looked up at the ceiling, “Feel free to help whenever you want.”
“It would help if I knew what I was looking for,” she said.
The Doctor scowled and pointed at her, “Not you,” he pointed at the ceiling, “You! I know you’re listening.” For a few seconds, nothing happened. Zoey was getting ready to ask when a door at the end of the hall opposite the direction they came from slid open of its own accord. The Doctor put his hand together as if her were praying, “Thank you.” He gestured for her to follow.
When they approached the open doorway the doctor stopped on just the other side of it and turned to look at her, a smile on his face. He jerked his head in a way that told her to look inside. With her eyes narrowed suspiciously, she followed.
Her arms went limp and she dropped the pile of clothes n the floor.
“Zoey,” the Doctor began and paused for effect, “Welcome to the wardrobe.”
The warehouse (that was the only way Zoey could begin to describe its size) stretched out of site; it was filled entirely with clothes, all of it. Clothes for tall people, short people, fat people, skinny people. Men’s clothes, women’s clothes, children’s, even infant clothes; to top it all off, it was arranged in displays and on mannequins.
“You… have a department store?!” She asked hysterically.
The Doctor scoffed, “It’s not a store. It’s a wardrobe.”
Zoey took a few shaky steps in, her eyes wandering over the collection, “What’s the difference?”
“Well, you don’t have to pay anything in a wardrobe.”
Her eyes snapped to his direction with a look of pure disbelief on her face as she finally put the pieces in to place. “You mean-?”
The Doctor gave her a small smile and swept an arm out in front of him. “Anything you like, for you and your friends.”
At that moment Zoey did something she hadn’t done in years, something outrageously embarrassing, something that she would defiantly regret later, but was too excited to care, she squealed while jumping up and down, clapping her hands in front of herself. This lasted only a couple of seconds before she rushed forward and wrapped her arms around his neck, pushed him away, and sprinted deeper inside.
