STORM'S FURY

Chapter 3

As Elisabeth looked down into the hole, the door of the police box opened part way. The narrow width of the hole in the floor of her garden, didn't permit the door to open more than twenty centimeters. A pair of fingers appeared in the crack of the door. Then, a nose. She shook her head and gave a 'tsk-tsk' of reproach. You'd think the police of all people, would have the sense to make sure the hole was wide enough to permit egress by its staff.

"Erm--actually, this wasn't exactly a planned landing." A youngish, yet wise-sounding male voice said from between the crack in the door. "Hence the narrowness of the hole. Though I suppose if it were a planned landing, you'd be perfectly right to stand there and make disapproving noises at me. But, as it was an accident, I was wondering if you'd be so kind as to summon some help?" The voice said matter-of-factly.

"I don't know how you got here, or what my neighbour will think of me, when I ask him to disinter a police box that's buried itself in my garden," Elisabeth said, frowning at the crack in the door, "but I'd better get some nice compensation for what you lot did to my poor flower bed." With that she walked off, still shaking her head and muttering about crushed roses.

In the TARDIS, a groggy Rory woke to find the Doctor kneeling beside him. "Wha--? What happened? Where's Amy?" He asked, sitting up with the Doctor's help.

The lights were off in the TARDIS. The Doctor was using a torch, but it was still too dark to see more than a half meter or so. Even with the door propped ajar by a cricket bat and an old leather bound copy of Plutarch's 'Lives,' which the Doctor had retrieved from a nearby storage trunk, there wasn't much light coming in the opening. Between the darkness of the hole and the oncoming twilight, the TARDIS was as dark as the grave.

"I'm over here, Rory. I'm fine." Amy mumbled, leaning against the base of the TARDIS console with her head in her hands. It wasn't exactly true. She'd hit her head in the fall, and now had a slight headache. The Doctor had gently helped her to sit up, and then sonicked her. To both their relief, he assured her there was no indication she'd had a concussion. But, the way her head felt, Amy wasn't entirely convinced.

With his free hand, the Doctor sonicked Rory, as he'd done to Amy. By the light of the torch he examined the readings. "You're fine, Rory." The Doctor told him. "Both of you are OK. We'd all passed out from a brief loss of oxygen in the TARDIS interior, in the few seconds before we crashed here. Wherever here is."

"You don't know where we are?" Rory asked, suddenly very worried.

"Well, yes and no." The Doctor shrugged. "By 'yes' I mean that I can say with utmost authority that we're probably somewhere in East Anglia, in a hole in some very cross lady's flower garden. By 'no,' I mean that I have no idea of our precise location. Or, what year this is. Or, what day this is. Or...."

"OK Doctor. I think we've got the point by now." Amy interrupted him.

The Doctor had been kneeling beside Rory, but now he stood. He was about to say something to Amy, when all of the sudden, he staggered and started to fall. Rory leaped up and grabbed the Doctor.

"Doctor!" Amy shouted in fear, as Rory brought the wobbly Doctor to sit against the console alongside of Amy.

"Are you alright? How many fingers am I holding up?" Asked Rory, crouched down beside the Doctor, holding up three fingers.

The Doctor abruptly cried out in pain and clutched his head in his hands. His whole body broke out into a sweat and trembled. Unable to speak, the Doctor could only bury his head on his raised knees, and close his eyes against the intense pain coursing through his head. Out of nowhere, the control room glowed with a strange green light, the colour of mushy peas.

"No, you can't have me!" the Doctor screamed. "I won't let you!"

"Have what?" Amy asked. Why was Rory not doing anything? She gave him a frustrated, helpless look, then turned and shook the Doctor by the arm. "Doctor, what is it, what's going on?"

"Hush, Amy! Not now!" Rory harshly admonished her, pushing her away. Inwardly, Rory winced at having to do that to her. He adored his wife, but he knew the Doctor was in no condition to answer any questions, and Rory didn't need any distractions while trying to help. Holding the Doctor in his arms , Rory spoke reassuringly to him; "Take it easy, Doctor. I've got you. Just breathe. Deep even breaths. Come on, you can do it. You can fight this. You're the Time Lordy bloke, this is your TARDIS, you're in charge, not....the green thingy. Concentrate, you can fight this, I know you can."

With a deep gasp of inwardly drawn breath, the Doctor gave one final cry, and slumped into unconsciousness. Rory frantically felt for a pulse, put his ear to both sides of the Doctor's chest. Mouth open in shock and despair, he looked at Amy. Rory couldn't stop the tears from welling up in his eyes. He felt the words sticking in his throat. Summoning all of his courage, he forced them to come out. "Amy, I'm sorry, but think he's dead."

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