[CRITIQUE NEEDED!] Apocalypse Falling: A Doctor Who/Left 4 Dead Fan Fiction

[Tyloric]

I'm currently writing a fan fiction for a L4D Big Bang (essentially a writing workshop). The story I decided to write is a L4D/Doctor Who crossover. What I'm looking for from you all is some feedback, be it positive or negative.

A few things to note:
1) This is story is UNCOMPLETED. What is posted here is the first 6,000 words of the story. I'm still writing it (though the entire story is planned).
2) THIS HAS NOT BEEN EDITED IN ANY WAY! I'm not looking for grammar/spelling/punctuation critique, just critique on the story itself.
3) Yes, this story will have a happy ending.

Without further ado:

1.​

It had been a while since he had felt this particular emotion, perhaps centuries. 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 taken quite a bit of his considerable intellect to properly identify it and when he had he had been less than pleased.

Yes, the Doctor had in fact been bored. It was an outrageous idea, really. He always had something he could be doing, always had some place he could be, someone he could save. But for now, in this particular moment, he didn’t. Well, technically he did but rather, couldn’t. The sensation didn’t last long, nearly five seconds, but it was enough of a stretch to catapult him in to action.

He was stuck in the TARDIS and couldn’t vacate it without being erased from reality itself. Not only that, but because the TARDIS itself was all that was keeping him grounded in reality it was, for the most part, immobile. It turns out 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. So he would give her a task, a simple one at first, like what the climate was, and if she 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, as he had expected, on Earth - In the southern United States, no less. 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 then frowned and ran that particular scan again. But the result remained 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. He sprinted for the door and only hesitated for a brief second before swinging them open-
-And found himself face to face with someone’s, well, face. Or rather, what was left of someone’s face. The eyes are 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, he couldn’t distinguish gender, had no nose. Where the cartilage had once been there was just a vacant hole with the boney outline of a nose, with a murky yellow fluid running out of it. No hair, either, and it’s flesh was a dead grey color which seemed to be flaking off.

The creature didn’t react, or even seem to notice, the TARDIS doors swinging open or that the Doctor was 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 keeping carefully still and just… watching.

“Well, then. Either the perception filter is working over time or I’m still very far away from existing,” he mused out loud.

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 has 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, ala him speaking, it should no sort of thought, should 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 also didn’t hesitate.

He didn’t like where this train of thought was leading.

The Doctor smiled a smile that inappropriately cheery. “Okay then,” he said to no one in particular. “Local population is three. So let’s go meet the locals.”

2.​

Zoey was doing her best to be a leader, really she was. But she wasn’t Bill; she didn’t have his honed instincts or his inherent intuition. But 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 to much of a hot head to and Louis was at times naïve, which left her.

It was times like this she missed Bill terribly; 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, they hadn’t a choice, to attempt to restock. But 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. But it was surviving its purpose well enough; 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. Though, they naturally 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 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 she had her back against. The three of them had actually gotten used to sleeping as near each other that they could. She wondered what that might mean.

Then she heard what she could only classify as a whisper. She wasn’t even sure she had heard it at first, thinking maybe her mind was playing tricks on her. But then she heard it again, and it was coming from the other side of the office door. Quickly, though, it ceased sounding like something as tame as a whisper and escalated to what could be described as a heavy gust of wind.

“Get up,” she didn’t quite yell, but it was close. Funny thing about living during an apocalypse though; you become a very light sleeper, and 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 it did so.

“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… stopped. Just like that, followed by a tense, eerie silence. They just 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 uncomprehendingly.

“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. And whoever it was did raise a good point; shouting, even in doors, was just asking for a swarm. But 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 leveled and had started actually offering legitimate opinions instead of being solely the comedy relief.

So 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.

3.​

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 and unkempt and stuck up in all directions with 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. But 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?” The black man asked. “A police box? 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 Dcotor 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. A 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?”

4.​

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 that were 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.

 

[Tyloric]

5.​

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 defiantly 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 just 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 point 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 did.

Her arms went limp and she dropped the pile of clothes (that she’d forgotten she was carrying) on 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 and 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 and 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 snapped at in 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 away (a bit roughly) and sprinted deeper inside.

6.​

Twenty minutes later, Zoey and the Doctor were headed back where the boys were, armed with an arm full of new clean clothes. She couldn’t help but have a spring in her step and when they reached the door she opened it without a word and walked right in.

Zoey was beginning to figure out that each room in the TARDIS had its own unique interior. This particular bathroom was entirely white with a large walk in shower that was shielded by a long pane of opaque glass with two swinging shower doors on either end. It took up the entirety of the back wall, a good ten feet wide and six feet tall.

There was a toilet hidden in its own alcove off to the side with a long counter that started next to the door and went back to the wall. It had two sinks with, of course, a large mirror hanging over it. The entire room was dimly lit with yellow lighting, creating a surprisingly relaxing atmosphere.

“Hey!” Louis yelped in surprise, covering himself with his towel. Both he and Francis were just starting to towel off. “Come on, Zoey, at least knock.”

“Clothes!” She announced instead of a response, laying theirs on the counter.

Francis wasn’t nearly as shy. He narrowed his eyes at her. “Those ain’t my clothes.”

“New clothes.” She clarified.

The ex-con scowled. “Did’ja at least clean my vest?”

“New vest.” Zoey turned and started to walk out.

“What?! Aww, c’mon! I want MY vest!” He called out after her as the door slid shut.

“You three are odd.” The Doctor told her.

She gave him a very unladylike snort. “Said the man with the bowtie.”

“Oy,” he reached up and adjusted his bowtie with both hands. “Bowties are cool.”

The door slid open and Francis stepped out in blue jeans and bare feet holding the white t-shirt Zoey had chosen for him up in both hands. “What the hell is this?”

Zoey tilted her head. “A shirt?”

“It says ‘I Hate Everything’ on it.”

“Yep.”

“Don’t yep me, princess.”

“Well you do, don’t you?”

“What?”

“Hate everything. You do, don’t you?

“No!” He shouted.

Instead of getting annoyed, Zoey actually looked surprised. “You don’t? Like what?”

Francis’ eyes widened and his cheeks blushed slightly as if realizing he’d said to much. “Uhhh…” He shrank back in to the doorway and the door slid shut.

“Very, very odd,” The Doctor whispered.

Zoey smirked. “You get used to it.”

7.​

As Zoey stepped under the spray of warm water, she finally had to face what she had been avoiding for a while; she had to think. Her mind wandered over the past year. Everything they’d been through, all the obstacles, the people they’ve had to kill, Bill dying and now all of this.

As the emotions rushed through her, she sank down against the tile wall and started to try. It may have been her imagination, but it seemed like the lights got a bit dimmer.

8.​

“What are you up to?” a voice asked.

The Doctor looked up from the controls he was fiddling with to find Louis walking down the catwalk. He was wearing the clothes Zoey had lay out for him; a white button up shirt with black slacks and work shoes. “I’m trying to get some of the TARDIS’ more advanced systems online so I can try to start finding a solution to… whatever the problem out there is exactly.” He sniffed and stood up a bit straighter. “What is the problem, exactly?”

Louis’ shoulders slumped a bit. “A virus.”

“A virus that does…?”

The dark man’s eyebrows lifted in surprise. “You don’t know? Just where have you been?”

“Yes, right, sorry. Not from around here. I’m from… a place.” he deadpanned.

One of Louis’ brows fell while the other stayed raised. “Anyway…” His face darkened. “The virus it… changes you. Not just a bit, but completely. It leaves people only wanting to kill what isn’t infected. We just call them zombies because, well, that’s really the best thing to call them. They don’t attack each other, not really, just people who aren’t infected.” He sighed. “Some people change more than others.”

“And you three? Why aren’t you all infected?” The Doctor asked lightly.

“We’re… carriers…” Louis’ trailed off, his eyes losing focus. The Doctor recognized that expression; it’s what you do when you remember something important, something you hadn’t had to think about in a long time. His gaze met the Doctor’s, his eyes wide and sad. “Oh, god, Doctor. I’m so sorry.”

“What’s wrong?” The Time Lord asked, surprised.

Louis suddenly looked miserable. “We are infected, Doctor. We’re just immune. But we still carry the virus, we can spread it to those who aren’t infected. Doctor, you could be infected.”

The Doctor blinked, seeming to remain completely calm. He then reached inside his jacket and pulled out a long, thick, metal object with a green tip. The Doctor pointed the green tip at himself and pressed a button. The device let out a humming and the tip lit up. He then proceeded to trace a line down the middle of his body, stopping just short of his navel. He gave it a flick causing the device to extend a couple of inches, raising it to his eyes.

“Nope, I’m fine,” he said after a moment.

“What--?” Louis started.

“You were saying?” He said, prompting Louis to continue.

“Uhh… that was all.”

“Oh. New question then; how long?”

Louis frowned. “How long for what?”

“Until the world ended; how long did it take?”

“I dunno, a week? Maybe more?”

“And how long ago was that?”

“A few years?”

The Doctor pursed his lips and furrowed his brow line. “That’s… troubling.” He went back to fiddling with the console.

Louis watched him for a good thirty seconds before he spoke next. “You sure you’re okay?”

“Am I trying to kill you?”

“N-no…”

“Then I’m fine.”

9.​

An hour later, the Doctor was certain he could move the TARDIS again. He still couldn’t get it to time travel in either direction but was sure that he could get at least one safe trip out of it. He already had an idea of where he wanted to go, too. He inputted the coordinates and with the flick of a switch the TARDIS began rumbling underneath his feet. It wasn’t the same hold on to something shaking, he wasn’t sure if the TARDIS was up to traveling through the vortex so quickly, so he’d set the arrival time for a sedate five minutes.

One hundred and nine seconds later the TARDIS stopped, followed by the familiar sound of it landing. He patted the control console fondly. “I shouldn’t have doubted you.”

“What’s up, Doc?” Francis yelled loudly, stomping down the catwalk.

“Research, and don’t call me that.” The Doctor replied, starting toward the TARDIS doors.

Francis grinned obnoxiously, smacking his lips as if he was chewing on smacking.

The Doctor stopped halfway to the door, turned on his heel, and regarded Francis curiously. “What are you eating?”

“Gum.”

“Where did you get it?”

The larger man shrugged. “Found it in one of the bedrooms.”

The Time Lord stepped toward Francis, his steps slow and measured. “What was in it?”

“Lots of costumes, and gum.”

The Doctor stepped up to the man so that they were only a foot apart. He swept his eyes up and down the ex-con, sizing him up, narrowing his eyes when he was done. He looked at Francis levelly. “I don’t like you.”

Francis snorted and crossed his arms. “You and everyone else left on the planet.”

He gave Francis a half hearted scowl and walk back down the walkway. “Stop stealing from my friends.” He called over his shoulder. When he reached the door he swung it open.

The TARDIS had landed on one of the many sky scrapers in New York City, the TARDIS in question positioned so it was sticking out a few inches of the edge of the building so he could get a good look at the world below. There was another sky scraper across the street that was more or less level with the one they had landed on. It was still mid-day, the sun hanging heavily in the sky. Even then, the air was both humid and chilly. The Doctor smelled snow in the near future, clouds in the distance promising it by nightfall.

“Well ain’t that somethin’.” Francis said while peering over the Doctor’s shoulder. “How’d you do that?”

“After everything I’ve shown you today, you still feel a need to ask that?”

Francis scowled at the back of the Doctor’s head, shifting his weight sheepishly. “Just curious is all… don’t gotta be a prick about it.”

The Time Lord shut his eyes tightly and silently cursed. He turned around, ending up being right in Francis’ face. “The TARDIS moves through time and space by opening a rift in the vortex, which is basically another dimension. The vortex connects everything to everything else, even though you can never actually see the connection. The TARDIS works by folding this dimension in to another dimension so it can then reappear anywhere at any time. Understand?”

Francis looked like his head was about to explode. “Uhh… no.”

“Well… to bad.” He turned back around, leaning forward (being careful that no part of him actually goes outside the threshold) to peer down at the world below. The street was in total disarray: cars were up on the sidewalks and crashed into the structures, debris of various kinds scattered all around and corpses that were still decomposing. The Doctor noted that most of the windows on the sky scrapers in the distance were all knocked out and shattered. But no infected were anywhere to be seen. “Where are they?” He wondered aloud.

“Don’t worry,” Francis started. His voice was suddenly serious and grim. “They’re around.” Francis started back up the catwalk. The Doctor was frustrated too, but still not entirely unconvinced that he could help this planet.

The Doctor started to close the TARDIS doors. “What I really need is--” It happened so quickly that he didn’t have time to react. Something long and slimy shot through the crack of the doors and wrapped itself around the Doctor’s left arm and began trying to pull him out of the TARDIS with staggering viciousness. His instincts are probably the only thing that saved him, his body’s natural impulses immediately trying to resist. “Francis!” he yelled. His hand was pulled through the door ever so slightly, just enough so that the tips of his fingers left the TARDIS.

The universe itself began to reject him, as if he were a stain that needed to be cleaned. He felt his fingers begin to burn as if he had dipped them in molten metal. He couldn’t help the scream that followed.

Francis appeared next to him with combat knife in hand and severed the tentacle where it met the Doctor’s arm. The Time Lord fell backwards in a heap clutching his wrist as the appendage went limp and fell out of the TARDIS. Francis immediately slammed the doors shut.

 

[Tsuyu]

Before I start reading... this isn't a /-fanfiction, is it?

 

[Tyloric]

Before I start reading... this isn't a /-fanfiction, is it?

No, not really. I mean, it's implied, but it's a 'blink and you'll miss it' sort of thing.