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Science Fiction and Fantasy
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| Don't Go To Sleep: Chapter 3 | |
| By Kezzi | ||
| 15 July 2008 | ||
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A Doctor Who fanfiction. Ever wondered what it would be like if the people in your dreams were real? The Doctor and Rose come face-to-face with this sinister possibility after spending a night together in Room 42. How hard can it be to tell the world they can't sleep...ever again? Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who or any of its associated characters. All of this is © to the BBC. [: NOTE: my description of the Mayor of Bristol is completely invented, so if you know/are him/her, please don't be offended! xD
Don't Go To Sleep
Chapter Three
They stood frozen for only a fraction of a second before springing into hurried action. By the light of the orb, both struggled into their clothes, a fearful silence between them as sleepy voices and slippered footsteps sounded in the corridor outside. The Doctor was first ready and dashed to the door, wrenching it open as Rose, straightening her top, followed. Pushing through the jostling, tiredly curious crowd, they could just make out a woman sitting trembling against the wall, with a man that must have been her husband attempting to comfort her. The congregation of people in the narrow hallway were shooting endless “What happened?”s at the pair, and as Rose drew closer she could see the woman was in a state of complete distress. She was clearly fresh from sleep; hair sticking up at odd angles, dark circles of mascara around her eyes. She was shaking uncontrollably in her husband’s arms, face blank, eyes wide and frightened. “Excuse me, coming through,” called the Doctor, steadily making his way through the knot of people. The husband looked up at him as he emerged, scared. “Who are you?” “I’m the Doctor,” he replied, kneeling down in front of the woman, who simply continued to stare straight ahead, trembling. “And you?” “Jones, sir.” “Mr Jones, do you have any idea of what has happened?” “Well,” he began slowly, shooting fearful glances towards the door of their room, which was shut and locked tightly. “Me wife was asleep, sir, dreaming she was. I could see her eyes movin’ behind her eyelids. I settled down to go to sleep meself, sir, ‘cause I’d been readin’ – and no more than a few minutes later, this…” he threw a frightened look at the door again “…this strange white bloke with no face sorta vapourised in the bed, holding onto me wife! And she woke up, she did, and she screamed, and then we ran out here and locked the door on the thing. Bloody weird if you ask me, sir…” Rose, who had finally escaped from the milling crowd and was now standing beside the Doctor, looked down to see his lips pressed into a firm, serious line as Mr Jones’s voice tailed off. The surrounding people were suddenly very quiet. “Everybody stand well back,” he said softly, and stood up. The crowd jostled and pushed to give the Doctor a wide berth, although they were all still craning their necks to see what was happening. Mr Jones pulled his whimpering wife to her feet and they backed away to become part of the silent mass as the Doctor, closely followed by a cautious Rose, stepped up to the door and reached for his Sonic Screwdriver. His hand emerged from his inside pocket empty, however, and he turned enquiringly to Rose. She looked fearfully puzzled for a second before remembering with a quiet “Oh…”, and produced the Screwdriver from the pocket of her jeans. The Doctor took it from her, pointed it at the lock, and pressed the button on its side. Bright blue light lit up the Doctor’s face for a second, the crowd waiting with baited breath behind him. When the door swung slowly open with a quiet creak, there was a unanimous intake of breath – and as the duo began to move daringly into the dim room beyond, several people took steps forward. The Doctor wordlessly raised a single hand to halt them, and with his other he took hold of Rose’s trembling forearm. Together, they disappeared inside the room, door swinging shut behind them and locking itself with an ominous, echoing sound. There was no one to be seen. “Keep your eyes peeled,” the Doctor warned, releasing Rose’s arm and scanning the room with his hawk-like eyes. It seemed untouched; only the lamp on the bedside table was overturned, and Rose assumed this was the cause of Mrs Jones leaping out of bed. “There’s bad energy in here, I can sense it. Keep close to me.” This instruction was unnecessary, however – Rose was far too frightened to leave his side. He bent down to look under the bed as Rose kept watch, but emerged only with an anxious expression and a dirty old pacifier. “Should we check the bathroom?” whispered Rose, biting her lip nervously. With a slow nod from the Doctor, they crept silently across the carpet towards the bathroom door, which was ajar. He inched it open gently with his toe and Rose held her breath and closed her eyes as they slipped inside the cool room. She felt the Doctor stop abruptly next to her, and quickly opened her eyelids. She had never seen the Doctor look so grim in her life. “It’s escaped.” Rose followed his eye-line to the little room’s single window and gasped; the sash was pushed up to reveal the bright white sky outside as the blinds in front of it flapped helplessly like dusty snakeskins in the cruel wind. After shutting the window tightly, The Doctor turned and walked back into the main room. Rose followed him out into the corridor once he had unlocked the door again, where the curiously chattering crowd quickly hushed at the sight of them. He stepped up to Mr Jones. “You can return, the creature’s gone. He escaped out of the window.” “You mean it’s loose?” cried a voice. The Doctor nodded morosely. There was an immediate outbreak of confused buzzing and a child somewhere began to wail. The Doctor held up his hand once more and they fell quiet. “We’re not safe,” he said solemnly. “No one in the world is safe. This is going to sound bizarre, but if you want to stay alive, please, please listen to me.” Rose could tell he was struggling to keep his voice from quavering as it echoed down the long passage, and gently laid a hand on his arm. He glanced at her and his eyes spoke his thanks before he turned back to the still congregation; shoulders square under his brown trenchcoat and back stiffly straight. “We are under attack from a race of aliens. They live in the world of dreams; beings dressed entirely in white who possess no faces. They’ve evolved to the point where they can now use dreamers to pass through to this world – to conquer it. Once they have an army based here, they will fight. Hundreds of humans will die.” His pause was met by a horrible, uneasy silence. “What-what are you trying to say?” stuttered one woman, clutching her small baby tightly to her chest with a sort of desperate intensity. Some echoed her terrified expression; while others, Rose saw with a sinking heart, looked doubtful or even mocking, their eyebrows raised. The Doctor gave a long, quiet sigh before answering, as though he knew what he was about to say was rendered hopeless before the words had even left his lips. “Don’t go to sleep. Don’t even nap. Don’t doze, don’t lie down. Pass my message on to everyone you know, and don’t go to sleep.” He eyed the crowd dangerously. “Good luck.” There was another stretch of silence, but when the Doctor turned away they rushed forwards, hailing him in a confused chorus. “What are we supposed to do?” “I’m tired, I need to sleep…” “What about my baby?” “What’s the point, mate?” “You think we’re stupid, you great big-?” “No questions!” called the Doctor, voice shooting their shrieks out of the air, sharp eyes holding them back. “Just stay awake. Call your friends, family, everyone you know. Tell them.” No one moved. “NOW!” The Doctor, apparently satisfied with himself, turned and began to walk in the opposite direction. Rose couldn’t find the heart to alert him to the fact no one seemed to be at all frightened by his news and were instead retreating, heads shaking in disbelief and annoyance, back into their rooms. Instead she pursued him to the fire exit at the end of the corridor, and a freezing breeze met them as he opened it out onto the quiet streets of Bristol. It must have been at least five in the morning, but the sky was a mass of brilliantly piercing white mist and the surrounding city was brighter than day. Rose stared over his shoulder, painfully aware of the resemblance the outside world had to her dream. The Doctor slid an arm around her waist and they stood there in silence, the mist swirling coldly around the city. “It’s too late, isn’t it?” breathed Rose, feeling her eyes start to sting as tears threatened to spill over onto her pale, tired cheeks. The Doctor tightened his hand on her hip and pulled her close to his side, expression impassive. “Not just yet.” As he said these words, the misty city air was pierced with a scream as another citizen awoke to find themselves in the company of the white faceless beings, the shrill noise reverberating all around Rose and the Doctor as they stood, two silent figures at the top of the Bristol Travel Lodge fire escape. “Are you sure?” asked Rose, positive that this latest scream was evidence enough for a complete invasion. “All is not lost yet,” replied the Doctor, who began to descend the fire escape steps with a new urgency. Rose quickly followed. “Where are we going?” “The Town Hall,” the Doctor shot back over his shoulder as he jogged down the metal steps, Rose trying to keep up. “We have to let the Mayor know - he could call a meeting and would probably be able to convince people a lot better than a ragamuffin like me and a-” He paused to look up at her, eyes twinkling despite the desperate situation. “Choose your words very carefully,” laughed Rose, becoming level with him on the step. The Doctor surveyed her with a grin, looking her body up and down several times. “An incredibly sexy and bloody gorgeous young woman like yourself,” he concluded, catching her lips in a quick yet still sensuous kiss before continuing down the steps. Vividly remembering the events of that night, Rose’s cheeks flushed as she accompanied him to the ground. “Right…Town Hall, Town Hall, Town Hall…” the Doctor looked down each road, trying to see it – but gave up this method in favour of what he must have thought was a better one. He began to spin in fast circles while Rose watched, giggling at his odd antics. “Iiiiiiits…” he came to an abrupt stop with his arm pointing down one of the wide roads to his left, “that way!” Grabbing a still-laughing Rose, he began to jog through the waking city down the street, twisting around corners and changing direction if ever he felt it was needed. When they skidded onto a wide road called Court Street, he broke into a run with an extremely breathless Rose several metres behind him. “Here it is!” he yelled suddenly, stopping so abruptly that she bumped heavily into him with a squeal. Looking up, she saw the majestic Town Hall towering over them, and was too busy admiring the stonework to realise that the Doctor had already unlocked the great doors with his Screwdriver and hopped inside. “Come on!” he called, poking his head out of the entrance and grinning almost maniacally. She jumped violently and hurried inside, just as the heavy door swung to a close. The inside of the building seemed even bigger on the inside. They both marvelled at the incredibly high ceiling criss-crossed with gold leaf patterns, the royally decorated walls panelled with dark mahogany on the bottom half. Matching chairs were stacked in their hundreds against the left wall, and a gigantic stage stood directly in front of them at the far end of the hall, flanked by smooth crimson velvet curtains. “Reckon this place uses Time Lord technology?” grinned Rose, performing a little pirouette under the sparkling ceiling. The Doctor gave a bark of laughter before grabbing her by the arm and heading to a door marked ‘Private’. Behind it was a small, narrow staircase which contrasted hugely from the hall they’d just left, and after making a gesture to signal silence the Doctor preceded Rose as they crept carefully up the bare stone steps. Another door at the top opened quietly into what was instantly recognisable as the Mayor’s bedroom. The furnishings were rich in the colours from the hall below, and the same royal wallpaper adorned the walls. A large four–poster stood importantly in the corner with drapings of red velvet and gold–patterned duvets – but it was empty. The reason for this became apparent, however, as the Doctor pushed the door open further and a gruff voice met their startled ears. “Who’s there?” A rather large, balding man waddled into view, dressed in a pair of red and white stripy pyjamas. A monocle was clenched tightly in his eye socket, and he squinted at them through the thick lens as they revealed themselves and stepped into the cosy room. “I’m the Doctor,” the Doctor said, “and this is Rose, my…err…” He looked over his shoulder at Rose, who was staring meaningfully at the carpet. “My wife.” “Doctor who?” “Never mind that.” “And how did you get in?” “Or that. Mayor…I have a message for you, a message of the utmost importance. You probably won’t believe me and think I’m talking utter codswallop, but it’s completely true and absolutely vital that you listen.” “Go ahead, then,” replied the Mayor dubiously, wandering over to his mahogany desk and sitting down heavily at it, pushing aside a stack of papers with his chubby pyjama’d arm. His expression plainly told them that he was expecting some kind of joke. The Doctor took a deep breath and started to pace as he begun the tale.
*
“So you see,” he concluded solemnly, turning to look at the Mayor, who was now sitting with his back to them, hands propping up his double chin, “we need your help. Somehow, we have to either stop the citizens from sleeping, or prepare them for war. The choice is yours.” The Mayor continued to face the other way, and when he spoke his voice was almost dangerously quiet. “You’re right.” The Doctor’s tense shoulders relaxed, and behind him Rose let out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding. “Thank you, sir – I think a town gathering here would be quite-” But he was cut off by the Mayor spinning slowly round in his chair to stare directly at him. “Let me finish. You’re right – I’ve never heard such a load of ‘codswallop’ in my entire life. Get out of my office.” Rose’s eyes were wide with shock, but the Doctor’s were desperate as instead of backing away, he stepped towards the fuming Mayor. “Please, please listen to me,” he hissed warningly. “There will be war if we don’t stop this, you’ll be killing your people if you don’t take action now-” “Give it up, Doctor!” smirked the Mayor, chair creaking as he got to his feet. “April Fools’ is next month.” He chuckled to himself as he turned away once more to tidy his desk. The Doctor persisted as Rose stood, watching the scene unfold helplessly before her. “Mayor, no one must go to sleep, you must understand me-“ He turned back around and faced the Doctor with derision. “I have been up all night - ALL NIGHT - signing these blasted papers and writing replies to stupid, whiny letters…and you’re telling me not to go to sleep?” he laughed cruelly. The Doctor looked on, defeated. “For the last time, Doctor, get out of my office. A Mayor needs his sleep.” Grinning triumphantly, he ushered the downhearted pair out of his office. They were too stunned, too helpless to even attempt to fight back - so with shrugs and defeated sighs they began to trudge together down the dark, narrow staircase. Two hours later, the Mayor of Bristol was dead.
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