The Thirteenth Doctor: Wake Up Call by Tom Beech

Here we are, the third story in Tom Beech's thirteenth doctor series, and it sees the return of a familiar foe! Here we go...

A heavy set of double doors flung open in the stale reception room. Bursting through them was a blur of neon yellow and silver stripes as it charged down a corridor. The figure darts past bemused faces wearing nursing uniforms as it dodged and weaved between them and juddering wheelchairs. The stranger’s breathing is harsh and stressed as they dive around a corner, peering into a room of calmness.

“Yasmin! My Betti! So good to see you!” The warm tones of Nani Umbreen call out from her bed, leaning up to fully see her granddaughter. Yaz finally comes into view, her police officer uniform is misshapen and creased. She catches her breath finally while taking tentative steps. “Nani, are you alright? I heard about your seizure an’ I rushed here as soon as I could.” Yaz asked in a tone of restrained fear. “Yasmin, are you still on duty? There might be people that need help. You didn’t have to come down for old me.” Nani Umbreen’s mouth twists into a grateful smirk. Yaz holds her hand carefully, “I wanted to make sure you were okay. I was the only one that could see you. Mum’s still looking for a job, Dad’s being useless, Sonya’s job hunting... Again” They both chuckle as a nurse strides in. “There’s a police car outside! Is someone in trouble?” She eyes Yaz and freezes, “oh, hello officer, is everything okay? Is Umbreen in danger?” Yaz looks back at Nani Umbreen, smiling gleefully, “And I had my work car!” Yaz continues, her eyes shine with a sense of playful rebellion. Umbreen chuckles loudly as the nurse steps back, embarrassed. “But really Betti, I’m okay. Honestly, it was a hiccup!” Yaz looks on warmly as she feels a flurry of buzzes from her pocket. She dreads plunging her hand into the trouser pocket. Eventually revealing a ‘classic’ brick phone. She awkwardly fumbles with the buttons while Nani Umbreen looks over. “Is that a new phone Betti?” Yaz keeps her face down, struggling to make out the tiny text on the small screen.

“Yeah Nani, well, it’s old... My friend gave it to me after Ryan broke my last one. I needed a downgrade anyway.” Yaz is eventually met with messages from her supervisor: WHERE ARE YOU? WE’VE RECEIVED A COMPLAINT etc. Yaz rolls her eyes and clicks her phone off.

“Have you got to go?” Umbreen asks disappointingly.

“Yeah Nani, I’m still on duty, and a miserable cow has just reported me for coming in to see you.”

“To Hell with them.” Umbreen says with a smile on her face. They both hold hands, Yaz squeezes softly before letting go and leaving, blowing a kiss before she goes.

Yaz keeps a slow pace in the corridor, eyeing the number of ‘residential’ rooms,10, 11, 12. She stops herself at door 13... It’s ajar. From the vacant space between, a sudden cold wind makes her shudder. In the pitch black, she can’t stop herself from looking in... The room is a gloomy grey, with moss-infected walls and furniture. Yaz finds her hearing is muffled, like being underwater from the constant dripping of a strange black liquid. Yaz traces her eyes under the door frame and is met with the shadowed gaze of a Voidkind figure. Yaz’s mouth is agape, horrid visions of the warped corridors and caverns of the Halfway House flood her memory. The figure crouches uncaring over a sleeping elderly patient... Yaz retaliates, pushing through the door fully, now flooding the room with light... The figure disappears. Yaz looks around frantically to find a state of normality. The bed is perfectly folded and creaseless. She finds the bland coloured curtains are drawn and blowing peacefully from the open window. Yet she still stands, breathing heavily, her air appears in front of her as a thick mist...

Then she feels it. A cold, fleshy tentacle slowly sliding up her arm. She can’t see it but by God she could hear it. Its squelchy, sticky form neared closer and closer... Yaz has lost her ability to speak, her voice breaks into frightful murmurs. She closes her eyes, turning suddenly to face the Entity. Upon opening her eyes, they are wide. But she finds no ‘Entity’. Instead, it’s a nurse’s wrinkly hand that has gripped her. The nurse clasping her arm lets go quickly, stepping back realising the police officer ahead of her is terribly frightened. “You alright love?” The nurse enquires. Her eyes are kind, but her dried, wrinkled hands fidget nervously. Yaz looks back, a reassuring smile is plastered on her face. “Yeah, yeah... I’m alright. I thought I saw something, someone in here.” Yaz responds, blinking her eyes harshly, trying to make sense of the experience. “Oh, you might’ve seen a ghost dearie.” The nurse interjects. “We had a death recently. Poor soul left in his sleep. No one came to visit an’ he started talking to himself bless him.” The kindly nurse shook her head and shuffled away to the opposite room. Leaving Yaz to wonder if she was truly reawakening ghosts of the past...

CHAPTER ONE

In the empty corridors of the TARDIS there was only one constant. The footsteps of a lonely Time Lord... The Doctor. She plods endlessly, her footsteps ring out a pained requiem. The corridors themselves were new as the TARDIS was only recently remodelled yet the cleanliness only added to the apparent emptiness. The Doctor walks on, passing empty, darkened rooms. Rooms that in previous lives, previous adventures were filled with friends and companions that accompanied the Doctor. Now they stand as empty as neglected trophy cabinets.

“Gone now...” The Doctor says while hanging her head low. Eying her feet as they walk in sync, side by side in a straightforward progression. Eventually, the end of her boots catches the door of her destination. Looking up slowly her eyes widen to find that unlike the usual orange lighting and crystalline aesthetic of her TARDIS, this door was a stark white colour. Indented onto the door panel was plastic circles, scored with black mould. The likes of which makes the Doctor shiver internally, a visage of the Halfway House. She lays a hand upon the double doors and they creak upon her delicate touch. Eventually struggling to open, often getting stuck in place prompting the Doctor to slide in between the doors and enter a room she hadn’t needed in a long, long time... “Hello you...” The Doctor says with a grin as she is met with The Zero Room. The Doctor wandered around the blank, white space around her. Despite being unused for the majority of her lives the room held itself in relatively good shape. The walls and floors were crooked and grubby from neglect, but it had a certain charm the Doctor couldn’t put her finger on. The room hummed lowly, almost inaudible unless you focused. The living energy of the TARDIS itself could be sensed here, similar to a human’s pulse.

The Doctor lays in the centre of the room and closes her eyes, tuning into the frequency... Hoping for solace, peace, answers perhaps? The Doctor feels her bare hands numb against the plastic-like floor surface. She writhes and struggles against a strange, charged gravity but soon relents. The Doctor relaxes her eyes under her eyelids and almost miraculously, begins to float slowly in the air. The Doctor rises a couple of feet from the ground, her coat making a strange grey shroud, like a ghastly reaper. While suspended in the air, the Doctor’s limbs feel a mild sensation of ‘pins and needles’. It starts slowly but rises and crawls over her body, reaching her neck. The Doctor mumbles as if she’s in a trance, ‘something’s wrong... Really... Badly wrong...’ The thought runs wild in her head. A low hum echoes in the room... It’s distant at first, but it gets closer and closer. The noise rumbles like a raging stampede. The Doctor squints her eyes and clasps her hands to her temple... Trying to focus on the noise, clear the fog. After some moments, the Doctor finally recognises the dreadful sound... It was a horde of chirping birds... The Doctor’s eyes widen, they are flooded with fear. “It can’t be you...” The Doctor stammers as her eyes slowly close again...

CHAPTER TWO

It was well into the Sheffield evening. The sky was painted as an empty black canvas with no stars. Several hours after visiting Nani Umbreen, Yaz finally arrives back at the Hallamshire police station. Her squad car judders to a stop as Yaz exhaustedly turns the key and switches the engine off. In the cold, dark silence she opens her phone to see no messages from friends or family. Yaz leans her head against the worn-out steering wheel, a defeated sigh from the bottom of her lungs escapes her lips. She contemplated the fact she travelled the universe to escape this routine. Yet even that has beaten her down as she looks upon shifting shadows in the spaces between the spiked steel fences in the car park. Yaz remembers the Halfway House only vaguely, thinking on them in a trancelike state before a flash of yellow appears in the passenger seat beside her... Yaz breathes harshly, clearly terrified as she grips the car-door handle. Yaz yelps in pain finding the handle is burning hot to the touch, singeing her fingertips. Yaz looks back, all she sees is a grey blur with hints of yellow and a stripe of colours in its centre...

“D,Doctor?!” Yaz mumbles incoherently.

“YAZ!?” The blur yells in a bloodcurdling response, making Yaz jump and honk the horn upon the knocking at her window.

“Can ya get out please? I’m starting th’ graveyard shift.” A small gentleman with a thick Yorkshire accent in a police uniform taps his watch... Yaz looks back immediately to see nothing of her blurry intruder. She looks back at the police officer in disbelief. ‘How did he not see that?’ Yaz interrogates herself while nodding hesitantly and shakily opening the car door. She looks at him oddly, “I’ve not seen you around at the station.” She asks cheerfully.

“Aye, just transferred. Name’s Murphy.” He tips his hat and adjusts an imaginary bow tie. In his presence Yaz felt weary, tired even as she yawned. She could hear a faint echo of birds...

“Ahh, it’s a good thing you’re off th’ road miss.” Murphy seats himself in the car. “Sleep on th’ road can kill y’know?” Yaz nods in agreement and heads towards the station. Murphy watches on...

...

Yaz shuffles through an entrance to a near-empty station. She senses the strong aroma of stale coffee while lurching past a leaky coffee machine. Her eyes scan the environment before stopping dead at an ‘Archives Room’. Yaz felt oddly drawn to it. “Was that always there?” Yaz muttered to herself as she took a closer look. The door itself looked old, neglected even as she timidly pressed her hand against it, pushing it ajar. Yaz’s discovery was disappointing at best, the room was the size of a basic flat. With a singular corroded filing cabinet against the back wall. The rest of the space was filled with decorations and random assortments of junk. Yaz sheepishly scans around her and seeing that the coast is clear, enters heading for the lone cabinet. Yaz carefully opens each rusted draw, most were again filled with junk and sickly-sweet wrappers. Yet as her hands scurried around the bottom layer, Yaz feels her finger prick on a sharp corner. Instinctively, she lifts her finger to her mouth but soon realised her finger isn’t bleeding and lowers it down. Feeling stupid as she does. In the dim light of the ‘archives room’ a small sliver of a page is finally visible, encircled by the assortments of junk. It was clearly stamped: CLYFFSIDE CARE HOME... Yaz seizes them curiously, stuffing them in her inner jacket pocket. Digging further her fingers find rough paper folders. Their corners are battered, and they smell distinctly of vinegar. Yaz delicately opens and flicks through the faded pages. Her eyes flick through each typed word. MISSING PERSONS, SUSPICIOUS DEATHS, ELDERLY MISTREATMENT: CLYFFSIDE UNDER INVESTIGATION. Accompanied along with these were greyed-out photographs. They had the correlation of being elderly. Yaz pondered on how they could be missing if they were at the care home. She opens her jacket after folding the papers to hide them... Yaz could swear that the chirping of birds was following her as she left the station under the Sheffield night sky.

...

The Doctor opens her eyes wearily to find that she is stumbling in the winding corridors of the TARDIS. ‘What am I doing? Why am I here? Was I running from something? What from?!’ The Doctor’s thoughts burn like wildfire. Now awake fully, the Doctor struggles to gain a grip on the rusted TARDIS walls as she drags her fingers across. Her legs buckle as she drags herself through a door leading to the first floor of the console room. Her eyes are strained, they try to adjust to the change of light.

She bows down, gripping the rail just above the hexagonal stairs, the steps shake and wobble unevenly, like a devilish fun house attraction. Cautiously and almost instinctively, the Doctor plants her feet onto the descending hexagonal steps. From beneath the steps her feet are suddenly grabbed by an invisible force, holding her in place. The Doctor’s face twists into a scream as she lifts her feet in retaliation... The Doctor kicks and struggles against her invisible captors. Yet they force her to turn away from the console room. As they twist her, the Doctor’s boots squeak and scream against the floor surface as she faces the top of the stairs... Finally seeing what she’s running from... The Dream Lord. His appearance is short yet menacing. Dressed in a ‘homage’ to the Doctor’s eleventh incarnation, complete with a blood-red bow tie and faded tweed jacket. His form seems to shift and change, like ripples in a raining lake. “We meet again at last Doctor. Glad to see that despite being gripped by absolute failure. You still persist.” The Dream Lord chuckles as he effortlessly glides down the stairs to stand alongside the Doctor. His feet never embracing the hexagonal surfaces...

“What does it matter?” The Doctor retorts, “You’re not real... You haven’t even changed your cheap outfit. You’re still just a projection! Look, I’ll prove it!” the Doctor swings a hand to slap the apparent apparition but mid swing the Dream Lord catches her wrist in a harsh, dominating grip... The Doctor is left frozen in fear, “But... You have no physical form?! How?!” The Doctor stammers like a jabbering wreak...

“How’s this for physical Doctor?” The Dream Lord cackles as he drags her arm... The Doctor’s feet slowly lose their footing, the Doctor is powerless as she slips further and further away from the steps. The Dream Lord’s grip seems impossibly strong as the Doctor flails against him vainly. In her struggle, she fails to notice she’s falling... The hexagonal steps grow closer and closer. The Doctor’s thoughts are spinning at a thousand miles an hour as her form finally gives way and she tumbles violently down the last couple of steps. Now crumpled at the bottom of the staircase, the Doctor’s bruised eyes close slowly... The sound of chirping birds slowly grows in an intense orchestra, jeering at her pain. The Dream Lord stands over her, a grin on his face. “Oh dear, what a terrible fall, see? You often neglect health and safety... No banisters!” He leans closer to inspect the Doctor’s bruised head. “Oooh dear oh dear. That’s going to bruise. You know what? You’ve had a terrible ordeal; you need some rest.” The Doctor mumbles feebly as the console room is now filled with the thunderous echo of chirping birds...

CHAPTER THREE

SHEFFIELD - 8:30 PM

Yaz had finally arrived home at Park Hill Flats. Making sure to survey the area for a familiar sight of the TARDIS. Yaz didn’t know if she was disappointed or glad to not see it on the familiar stone steps. Yet, as she squinted her eyes and focussed, she was sure she saw a blue, rectangular blur. Yaz shook her head as she retrieved a plastic bag from the floor beside her. It contained a loaf of bread and milk. ‘The classics’ Yaz mused as she entered the lift to reach her floor. Her exhausted form eventually struggled to push through the front door and is greeted by the familiar: Her father, Hakim struggling to make the final adjustments of his next ‘great’ family meal. His eyebrows furrowed as his hands searched desperately for an assortment of spices. Taking several steps further Yaz had ,failed to be noticed by her younger sister Sonya. Who was again texting on her phone, she may has well have grown the back of her smartphone as a face. As that was what you’d see of her the most often. Finally, from her blind-side, Yaz’s mother Najia clutches Yaz with a bear hug. Her face is scrunched up with glee. “Yasmin! You’ve been gone all day. Where have you been? You could’ve been home hours ago.” Yaz is taken aback, she’s only just finished her shift and headed straight home... Where had the time gone?

...

The Doctor’s eyes shoot open. As if she’d received an emergency adrenaline shot. In a reactionary move, the Doctor grips the floor of the console room, dragging herself along wearily with whitened fingertips. Her head is ablaze, and her vision is blurry. she laments on the last encounter with the Dream Lord. Recounting the ordeal of fighting him in two realities, it was eventually The Doctor’s friend, Amy, that made a choice and solved everything. The Doctor lowered her head... ‘Gone now.’ She mused morosely. The Doctor found it odd that the Dream Lord was much more malicious in this newest encounter. She couldn’t see any game to play unless there was one, but she wasn’t told the rules. The Doctor hated that, not being told the rules meant she couldn’t break them. Her internal monologues fail to form as her mouth mumbles and splutters. Internally, the Doctor continued to piece things together... ‘Before he only had the power to shift and change reality... To control ‘dreams’... He was a crafty sod.’ The Doctor struggles a limp smirk as she reaches the underside of the console. Her fingers awkwardly dig and search in the underside, pulling out wires, circuits, and haphazard components. ‘I also know that last time... The Dream Lord was just pollen! Psychic pollen sure, but I won’t hold it against him.’ The Doctor heaves a heavy chunk of machinery resulting in an electrical spark erupting from the crystalline time rotor. In a matter of moments, it judders and struggles to rise and fall... The Doctor smiles, gleeful that her dear TARDIS is working. As the TARDIS begins to take off... The Doctor’s face begins to dawn a realisation as her smile turns to a fearful frown. Her hands continue to scrabble at the innards of the console, her movements are frantic, desperate even as she finally draws her hand away. Her throat finally clears, a sad realisation hits her like a tsunami... “There’s nothing here...”

...

The Khan family table was at peace. For now... Each member was present yet, absent in their own way. Yaz observes this as she lifts her fork and awkwardly flicks and jabs at her father’s ill-prepared meal. Her eyes intently focus on the four prongs of the dulled silver utensil. Her concentration broken by Najia clearing her throat. Yaz looks slightly startled and lets her fork drop, the prongs slide and scrape against the tacky ceramic plate. Yet, this doesn’t interrupt the flurry of conversation of her father and sister. Yaz is instead met with the gaze of a concerned mother. “Everything okay Yasmin? You... Seem troubled.” Her face twists into a smile of encouragement, goading Yaz to ‘spill the beans’. “Umm, yeah... Yeah. I’m okay Mum. Just got a lot on my mind.” Yaz looks down dejectedly at her plate, her fork is hopelessly drowning in whatever ‘mystery sauce’ her Dad has flavoured the food with. “Is it the Doctor?” Najia interrupts, causing Yaz to shudder awkwardly. “No. Mum it’s not about her. I haven’t heard from her in days. Things are awkward between us.”

“Ah, it looks like it, she hasn’t even stopped sending you letters.” Najia smiles warmly, “alright then, is it because of your job? Seen something bad?”

“It’s not that simple Mum, it’s... Nani. She’s all alone in that home. I can’t trust it.”

“Hey, what’s not to trust?” Yaz’s father reacts, finally listening in to the conversation.

“Nothing Dad, it’s just unfair. She has a stroke and we can’t be bothered to take her in.” Yaz says accusingly... “Don’t say that!” Najia snaps, causing Sonya to lower her phone intrigued. The room is deathly silent, only the hum of electric bulbs and slow breathing exist... “We can’t always offer a hand to those that need it Yasmin... We have to look for ourselves. Nani Umbreen is fine, she had carers nearby when she triggered her alarm.” Yaz looks down at her plate disappointed, “That’s not the point Mum.” Yaz responds lowly... “You all had all day to see her, but you didn’t... She sat alone in that home. An’ there’s something wrong about it too!”

“Now you’re starting to talk like that ‘Doctor’” Najia says disapprovingly. “But I mean it.” Yaz snaps back, “The place is just... ‘off’. The ‘owners’ have millions in the bank, yet that place sees none of it. The carpets are grubby and literally crawling with mud. It smells of death and other things.”

“We’re in a tough time in the economy Yaz,” Yaz’s father butts in, “There’s not enough money to go pumping it into little homes where folks go.” Yaz sighs harshly and rises from her seat, much to the bewilderment of her family as they watch her storm into her room. They have a moment to comprehend it as they look themselves in the eye. This period of grace is swiftly interrupted as Yaz bursts into the room, laying a bundle of papers onto the table. Yaz huffs and places her hands on her hips, exhausted after an intense presentation. “One last thing! Why has the home only existed for a couple of months?” Yaz thumbs through the papers, lifting up research of buildings in the area, blank news articles etc. “None of this makes sense. It’s like it’s popped up out of nowhere and no one noticed. People walk past it every day and don’t notice it. Unless they actually need to visit or be... Treated there.” Yaz hesitantly brushes her hand through the papers reaching the MISSING PERSONS files. “Look! Clyffside is connected to all these missing people. The residents, the staff! Can’t you see it? This place is wrong!”

“This is what you were doing instead of being home? Stalking this building? Where have you got these?” Najia rises to meet Yaz’s gaze. Their eyes bore into each other as they stare intensely... “I thought spending time away from the Doctor was going to be good for you. Now you’re starting to act as mad as her.” She sighs dejectedly before sitting back down at the table... “There’s no conspiracy to harm Nani Umbreen. Now stop this please, finish your food.” Najia says in desperation. Yaz bundles the papers up in retaliation, carrying them out the front door. Much to the bewilderment and disbelief of the Kahn family. Yaz, while breathing stressfully, eventually steps onto the stone slabs where the TARDIS once stood. “It’s like the TARDIS... The home can’t be truly seen. It just exists...” Yaz mutters to herself before retrieving her phone...

CHAPTER FOUR

The Doctor hauls herself onto the dimly lit console. Her hands are jittery and numb, failing to hold any grip as she operates the console. Her face contorts in pain as the Dream Lord slides beside her, slowly taking her hand away from the controls... “Come on Doctor, let’s get you away from these nasty controls! I mean, look at them. It’s a mess. Just as you’ve figured out the last ones, you go for a remodel! It’s pointless.” He looks around mockingly, “Let’s see... Crystals and pitch darkness, what are you? Some new age hippy?”

The Doctor breathes heavily as she fully throws herself at the console, leaning on it to finally grip the controls. “Yaz...” A pained mumble escapes her lips as she lifts herself up, a finger finally flicking a distant switch. “Here we go again...” The Dream Lord leans lazily on the console. “Yaz, Yaz, Yaz! Who even is she? You’ve only travelled with her for a bit and she’s as bland as well.” He materialises a slice of bread in his fingertips. “This piece of bread I’ve just conjured out of thin air!” The Dream Lord giggles as he throws the bread aside. “I mean honestly, you really ‘know’ how to pick your friends. Who’ve you got now? A wannabe OAP that looks more at home doing a game show than battling monsters. A ditsy, dizzy dummy that hasn’t got a clue what’s happening in front of his very eyes. And a police officer that forgets to even turn up at her job! I’m amazed she’s not been sacked yet!” He stands and leans up against the console, delighting in the Doctor’s struggle. “You’ve had so many companions: scientists, highlanders, sailors, teenagers, more ditsy assistants, journalists, savages, even a robot dog! Yet you now choose three randos from Sheffield?!” The Doctor gives no reply as she pushes herself across the console, using the very tips of her fingers to spin the hourglass apparatus...

“You know what you remind me of?” The Dream Lord gives a lengthy, dramatic pause... “A newborn, ugly duckling. You hatch out of a regeneration and immediately imprint on the first people you see. All this ‘first face this face saw’ rubbish. Yes, I did have to stand by and watch that embarrassment. I mean, poor Clara, she stood by while you were dying, reliving another mistake.”

He laughs heartily as the Doctor slams her hand on the console angrily, propping herself up. Through gritted teeth she speaks up. “My mates are the best of me... All of em’. It never mattered where they came from... I trust them with my lives and right now, I need em’ more than ever.” With all her might, the Doctor slams her hands down onto the silver handle, finally jolting the TARDIS to life, the crystalline Rotor shudders up and down, the groaning engines struggle as they grind ceaselessly... The TARDIS is in flight as the Doctor begins to falter, the sound of chirping birds filling her head as she closes her eyes painfully, she mumbles “Yaz...” before finally collapsing on the console...

...

Yaz continued to sit on the stone steps of Park Hill. The evening air felt harsh against her face as she numbly taps into her phone. “Stupid buttons... Stupid phone...” After vainly remembering random strings of numbers her phone finally reciprocates the gesture. It’s ringing is slow and drawn out... Yaz presses the handset to her ear. It finally connects, “hello? Ryan, you there?” Her voice is warm, disguising her anguish. “Yeah Yaz, what’s up, I’m doin’ nights at work.” Yaz frowned, ‘of course Ryan was working.’ Yaz answered back sarcastically in her thoughts. “Oh, it’s alright, I just wanted to talk to someone. There’s been something odd happening.”

“Ah, I can’t help right now, I bet Graham will be alright tho.”

“Okay Ryan.” Yaz smiles, “thanks for answering though.”

“No problem. I’ll see you tomorrow, we’ll talk about it then. Yeah?”

“Yeah!” Yaz nods as she hangs up the phone. Then timidly types in Graham’s number. Her finger hovers over the final digit before she yells in shock at her phone vibrating suddenly. She’s receiving a call from an unknown number... Timidly, she answers it and holds it cautiously to her ear. Her face twists in horror as the caller whispers painfully, “Yaz... I need your help. Please... It’s the Dream Lord! Yaz... He’s...” The phone stops dead, a warm, concerned voice instead comes through... “Yaz? Yaz you alright? I can’t hear you properly.”

“Graham! Uh... Can I come round?” Yaz asks breathlessly. She looks around with startled eyes... The feeling of being watched clings to her subconscious. “I,I need to talk to you.”

...

Graham tried his best to attend to his shivering friend. No matter how many blankets he’d given to Yaz , she was still frozen to the bone. Graham strode across the room to the kitchen, finishing a cup of tea and pouring into an amusing novelty mug. As he walks along, balancing the tea in a shaky hand he asks curiously, “You sure you’re alright? You’ve not said a thing since you bundled in.” He gets no response. “Summat with your family?” Graham seats himself on the sofa, eyeing the bundle of papers on the coffee table. “Is this what it’s about?” He leans in, inspecting the files Yaz had brought delicately. “Clyffside Care Home... Hmm that, that’s familiar that is!” He smirks to himself with the satisfaction of putting a jigsaw piece together. He turns to Yaz, she’s looking livelier. “Is this to do with a case? Why’ve you got these?”

“Y, you recognise it?” Yaz stammers, she’s warming up. “Well yeah,” Graham responds, lifting more papers for inspection. “Yeah, they wanted to hire Grace ages ago.”

“Really?” Yaz says almost in disbelief. She was beside herself. Of course, nothing in her life would ever be just a coincidence anymore. The Doctor has stolen that from her. “What happened? With Grace I mean.” Yaz asks, trying to ease Graham into giving more information. “Ah, well... From what she said. She kept gettin’ letters, calls an’ that. She was havin’ none of it!” Graham grins fondly. “Leaving the cancer ward meant she wouldn’t be with me anymore. Hold on, I think I’ve got them back here...” Graham stands to head to the far end of the house. Under the rumble of boxes and papers something clicks behind Yaz’s eyes... “This was before we met?”

“Yeah, I think so.” Graham enters, holding sheets of paper. Yaz takes them gently and scans over them. They were expertly typed, with lots of jargon about healthcare. It seems perfectly tailored to Grace...

“About a couple of months before actually.” Graham sits back, sipping his tea. Yaz finally leans forward, looking at a small collection of Missing Persons, all staff... Grace could have been one of them. Yaz shudders at the thought. “That’s not the only weird thing though!” Graham says, remembering something else suddenly. “Oh?” Yaz responds, looking up, intrigued. “Yeah! The place tried to get Ryan to work there for experience during college. They were relentless!” Graham chuckles, “sendin’ letters, flyers... Text messages. I was thinkin’ they were gonna get him in his dreams next!”

‘Dreams?’ Yaz’s mind snaps back to the the voice on her phone... “The ‘Dream’ Lord...” Yaz’s face frowns. “Then the cheeky gits have started sending me letters asking if I’d like to ‘take a look around an’ see their cosy little rooms’. Absolute rubbish! I’m only 59!” Yaz puts the final strands together... “So, this home has had something to do with us. Even before we met the Doctor...”

“Have you got any connection to it Yaz?” Graham asks, now fully invested. Yaz takes a moment to decide, whatever this home was it wanted all three of them. Was it a trap for the Doctor? Or maybe something worse? She couldn’t risk anyone else getting hurt. She was unsure if she could even help Nani Umbreen... “No... Not yet, we might’ve got letters or something. I must’ve not noticed; I’ll look when I get home. My Dad’s still collecting rubbish.”

“Yeah... It’s a little funny.” Graham reacts, “So do ya reckon it’s coincidence for once? This home invading our lives?” Graham asks optimistically. “No... I’m sorry Graham.” Yaz stands, patting Graham on the shoulder reassuringly, “ever since the Doctor... My belief in coincidences is long gone.”

CHAPTER FIVE

The Doctor’s eyes open heavily, her body is weary and drained. She again drags herself upon the console, it’s lights are dimming and dying out one by one. Around her, the console room dims, shifting and changing colours to a deep blue. “What have you done?” The Doctor whispers harshly, the words scrape her throat as they exit. She awkwardly limps along the console, trying to read the jumbled, glitchy readings. “Whatever you’ve done, the TARDIS doesn’t like it.”

“Of course, it wouldn’t like it you stupid woman.” A voice like impending thunder echoed above the Doctor. “I’m draining it like a vampire, I need its energy more than you obviously do.” A snap of the fingers is heard as the last light of the console dies down. “It’s still not enough though... Pity.” The Dream Lord fizzes into reality, caressing the console. “I’m going to be honest with you, I prefer the older models.” The Dream Lord smirks. “Yeah, I’ve been around. You thought that just blowing me away like dust into the cosmos would just get rid of me?” The Doctor stumbles back, flashes of her Eleventh incarnation blind her mind. “Yeah! I remember that. Just casting me off into the vacuum of space. In the cold...” He looks down glumly. Summoning a chorus of chirping birds that fog the Doctor’s mind. Attempting to escape, she meekly stumbles to the TARDIS doors... “There was something your ego didn’t take into account though.” He says while slowly approaching the staggering Doctor. “You found me in the Time Rotor! In the time it took you to finish my game... I’d melded with its energy. I was enhanced, able to do things... Things never accomplished before. Even more than being...” He places his hands on the Doctor’s shoulders. “Physical...” With a heavy push, the Doctor is slammed against the powerless doors, falling through them harshly into a blank abyss... The Dream Lord smiles while adjusting his bow tie...

...

SHEFFIELD - 12:45PM

‘Another day, another shift’ Yaz muses while drumming her fingers nervously on the steering wheel. The squad car was different this time. Much smaller and cluttered with coffee cups and receipts. Yaz made note of her phone as she checked the time. It was almost visiting hour. She twisted in her seat to intently watch the sloped entrance of Clyffside Care Home. In the past hour, there’s been no cars, no nurses, no visitors... Her radio buzzed violently, spitting out “YA...” Yaz jumps in her seat. Taking a moment to catch her breath, she timidly flicks the radio off before finally exiting the police car. She stands ahead of the imposing country house in a stale wind. The windows stare back at at her, like it’s aware of an intruding presence.

...

Yaz enters the enclosed space of the reception room. Seeing the room is barren, she taps on the ‘glass’ awkwardly. The plastic material warps and shakes from her mere pressure. A sudden, scorned face appears and huffs in annoyance. Yaz timidly smiles, “Hiya, it’s Yasmin, Yasmin Kahn I’m here to visit my Nani Umbreen.” She steps back from the glass, realising its misting up from her nervous breathing. The receptionist tuts as she lowers her craned neck below the plexi-glass. Yaz awkwardly drums her fingers against her trouser pocket before a sudden, harsh buzz makes her jump on the spot.

“You can go in now.” The receptionist responded with a voice as dry as the deserts of Desolation. Yaz found herself shaking her head as she pushed herself through the double doors. Each plodding footstep on the wooden flooring rang out a memory: Their travels with the Doctor, some great, some terrible. Yaz reflected on the fact it’s been at least a month since the Halfway House. The corridors in Clyffside didn’t help ease her. They stretched on infinitely, they were an existential void of space. She felt lost somehow as she scanned her eyes across the bronze numbered doors again. Some were loose and grubby, haphazardly screwed into the splintered wooden surfaces. She could make out a strange hum of birds chirping... She assumed it was from a resident’s TV and moved ahead.

Yaz felt the building age with each approaching step... The floors creaked and splintered on impact. The wallpaper moulded and peeled off like dead skin, landing in soggy heaps on the floor... Yaz continued to shake her head, tightly closing her eyes to shut out the obvious illusions. Yet this only worked to enhance the orchestra of cackling birds. With her sight locked away, Yaz could hear, smell, and touch. Her feet slogged as they treaded on mushy ground. The bog-like surface gripped at her feet and lower legs. Her ears were bombarded with the wailing of pained individuals. Using her hands to steady herself was one of Yaz’s biggest mistakes... Her hands felt prickly as the cracked, slippery surface of the wall engulfed her hands... Yaz struggled and winced as she tried to pull her hands away, but she couldn’t ... Her hands have been suddenly bound by something leech-like and slippery. Her intense struggling is in vain as she feels it slither up her arms, reaching her screaming face... “Miss Khan?” A concerned voice rang out, purging the horror in the corridor. The satanic choir of screeching birds ceases... Yaz’s eyes shoot open achingly. Her eyeballs feel dry and cracked beyond relief. Blinking for several moments, Yaz looks across at a large cleaning lady with black hair. She smiles warmly yet concernedly. “You alright luv’? You’ve gotten all tangled up with me hoover!” Yaz looks hurriedly down at her feet and hands, finding them wrapped up with the thick, black piping. “Ah! Oh, I’m so sorry, I was in another world just then!” Yaz says, defusing the situation.

“Well, I guess that’s alright luvvie. If it helps, I’m Paula. Nice to meet ya.” The cleaner begins to shuffle away before she’s lightly tapped on the shoulder by Yaz, “wait, where’s room twenty? My Nani’s in there.” The cleaner looks puzzled for a moment, before answering softly. “Hmm that doesn’t sound right dearie... There’s only thirteen rooms.” Yaz scoffs while twisting her head to look behind her. She gasps discovering a wall directly behind her. “I, what? No... I literally just walked down here a minute ago!” Yaz, flippantly twists her head back and forth. Trying to shake the puzzle pieces together. “Don’t worry about it love. These new extensions mess with ya.” She turns to leave down the opposite way...

“What the Hell is going on?” Yaz mumbles to herself as she lays her hand against the newly materialised wall. After a moment she launches her hand off, feeling a strange, ‘pins and needles’ sensation. Yaz tried again, this time more determined. Pushing harder and harder, the surface of the wall feels more mailable as her hands sink in deeper, before she pushes through completely a warm, old voice echoes out from beyond the corridor: “Betti? Are you out there?” Yaz twists suddenly, her hands feeling like lead balloons. She begins to jog towards the sound, eventually stopping hastily at a freshly coated doorframe. Yaz’s breathing slows to a calm rhythm as she eyes the wide smile of an unharmed Nani Umbreen in room thirteen...

CHAPTER SIX

The wind felt stiff against the Doctor’s unconscious face. Her body laid limp on the rough grass, her fingers twitch between yellowed strands. The cackling of crows’ circle around her, causing her eyes to slowly open. Her breathing is slow... Her life restarting, rebooting. She rises, the glare of the afternoon sun on her face makes her eyes twinge painfully. “Sheffield? Yep... Seems about right.” The Doctor mutters as she brushes herself down. Her coat is smudged with dirt. After struggling to her feet her eyes are aghast at a monolithic sight. The TARDIS is stood just a few feet away... Dead. Its dark blue paint is a charcoal black, the panelled windows are cracked and smashed through. Chunks of the ‘Pull To Open’ sign have been bashed in, as if pulverised by a sledgehammer. Above the remains, the lamp let’s out a final, dim flash before the bulb cracks and breaks inside. It’s last breath. The Doctor tearfully places a hand on the scorched wood, she feels a sharp pain but holds the wood firmly. She places her forehead on the wood now, balancing the pain. “This isn’t real. This is just a trick. You’re trying to scare me out of stopping you.” She smirks through the pain after letting go. Optimistically, she pushes on the doors, expecting the expansive interior to be inside. She instead discovers an empty void. The warm orange glow has been replaced by a shrivelled, regular, empty interior of a police public call box. The Doctor’s hearts break...

...

“Are you okay Betti? Your eyes...” Nani Umbreen lays a wrinkled hand on Yaz’s cheek. “You’ve seen demons...” Yaz clasps her hand gently onto Nani Umbreen’s. “I guess so yeah. It’s been a tough week. Are you feeling any better? Have the nurses treated you okay? I’ve seen the Panorama documentaries...” Yaz lets her worry take hold... “Yasmin! Honestly, I’m okay. The people are nice here. There’s a lovely Dr that looks after me. He has such a funny sense of clothes.” Nani Umbreen’s smile is bright, calming Yaz down.

“Well okay, any odd happenings? People going missing, things being stolen an’ stuff like that?” Yaz asks softly. “Well... I don’t know Betti. I didn’t think you wanted to use me as a spy. Has there been problems with the home before? Are you investigating something?”

“Kind of.” Yaz nods. “There’s been inquiries about missing items, mistreatment. I wanted to make sure you were okay. I knew you were brought here involuntarily. So, I couldn’t do any research.”

“Betti, it’s okay.” Nani Umbreen interrupts softly... “I wanted to come here. I got lots of flyers and a lovely man came round to visit before my stroke...”

“Who?” Yaz asks, nerves piling on behind her throat... A friendly rapping at the door makes her jump out of her skin… “Hello!” A voice came strolling into the room. Its owner was small, with a balding head. He’s dressed in a ‘typical’ doctor’s coat, adorned with a blood-red bow tie. His soulless eyes look across to Nani Umbreen. “Ah! Umbreen how are you feeling? Have you gotten much sleep? Is the police lady bothering you?” His smile is slimy yet sharp like a stainless blade.

“Oh no Dr, she’s my granddaughter. She’s giving me a visit on her break from work.” Nani Umbreen smiles warmly. Yaz turns to look, standing now. “Haven’t I seen you before? At the police station?” Her question doesn’t land. “Oh no, I don’t think we’ve been formally introduced yet. I’ve got a familiar face...” He extends a hand, “Dr. Morpheus. I’m the head of this humble Clyffside facility...” His smile burned into Yaz’s soul...

...

The Doctor leaned painfully against the corroded police box. A tear escapes her eye. With an angry fist she pounds the scorched wooden door heavily. Caving in the brittle woodwork. The Doctor yelps, feeling the sharp wood embedded in her hand and the distress of the dead TARDIS. “That was so stupid!” She lays her hand gently on the ‘Pull To Open’ sign “I’m so sorry... For all of this.” She looks away to spot an approaching patrol. They wield batons and handguns. The leader of the group holds a large rifle with gloved hands. “Ah, a welcome committee.” The Doctor smirks, hiding behind a confident persona. As they gather around her, the Doctor curiously notices that underneath pads of black armour, are blue medical uniforms. “Wow, such multifaceted people! You can shoot an’ beat people to a pulp, then you can patch them up again!” The Doctor states sarcastically, leaning against the police box with her arms folded. “We are here...” The rifleman begins to speak.

“For me? Yawn.” The Doctor interrupts. Pushing herself from the police box. “On who’s orders?” There’s an awkward silence. “Come on now! Lovely people like yourselves just love to go around following orders. What’s compelled you to get kitted up with guns and sticks to hunt down a woman and her police box?”

“We follow the commands of Dr. Morpheus.” The leader speaks up in a dull tone.

“There we go!” The Doctor claps enthusiastically, “we’re progressing! I’m liking where this is going!”

“No, you won’t.” The rifleman fires, a dart spikes the Doctor’s neck, she drops to the floor... “Dr. Morpheus requires you for the final phase...”

...

Yaz was being led causally by ‘Dr. Morpheus’. They walked through twisted, tasteless corridors. Rooms littered the walls either side of them, each resident was well rested... Or worse in Yaz’s mind, already dead. She snaps her head back to face forwards. Her mind draws a blank, “Dr. Morpheus, why have I left my Nani? I can’t quite remember?” She’s met with a disarming chuckle from the odd Dr. “Yasmin, you brought up those Missing Persons cases and the planning permissions and all that. I wanted to speak about them in private and here we are, we’re heading to my office...” Suddenly, Yaz was seated in a rigid wooden chair. Surrounding her were a gallery of framed diplomas and photographs. This was Dr. Morpheus’ office... Her mind was a furious blank, what was going on? “So, these papers...” Dr. Morpheus lays down the pile gently on the table ahead of Yaz. The scatter and spread like a perfect deck of playing cards. “These... Are quite damaging to us. As a company, as a health service. This ‘evidence’ could prove to be a nightmare to us.” He smirks through grim teeth.

“I’m sorry, Dr. I can’t remember getting here. We... We were in a corridor.”

“Then we got here. Yaz,”

“Yasmin, please Dr.” Yaz cuts in.

“Yasmin, please focus, we can’t have your mind in dreamland now can we?” Dr. Morpheus adjusts his bow tie, the material shines from the sun’s reflection. “Your files aren’t valid. Your missing persons are all here.” He seats himself down opposite Yaz. Eventually reaching into his desk to retrieve blue plastic binders. He slides them over. “Here, I think you’ll find everything in order, Officer Kahn.” He smiles warmly while leaning back in his chair. Yaz tentatively grabs hold of the binders, absently flicking through the papers. The contained medical histories, admittances. A page caught her eye, INVESTORS. Was stamped across the header. People that actively funded the care home. Her eyes scrolled down the list: Magpie Electrical, Beechwood Wares, International Electromatics... VOR... Did these companies know they were funding this?

“Have I proved my point miss Kahn? I have a home to run.” Dr. Morpheus sounded impatient.

“Have you thought about contacting the police? Maybe prove that these persons aren’t missing?” Yaz responds, slowly closing the folder. “We didn’t have a need for it Officer Kahn.” Dr. Morpheus smirks, “what I’m surprised with is your lack of observation skills...”

“Oh no,” Yaz replies, “I spotted your ‘investors’. It’s an interesting group of supporters. Mostly tech?”

“I like you Officer Kahn.” Dr. Morpheus leans in. “I know you claim we don’t care for the residents here. But the money is going to the best place possible. We have the technology to open their minds. To free them from their trapped existence. I take a look at this place and I notice that they seem...”

“Drained?” Yaz leans in, meeting Dr Morpheus’ gaze, her eyes are cold and unflinching. “My, the friends don’t sink far from the ‘friend-ship.” “Dr. Morpheus laughs. Yaz finally puts the pieces together, the smug smile, the dead eyes... Dr Morpheus was way more than he appeared... Yaz looks on puzzled, the pieces clicking together. “One final question, Dr. I mentioned that I recognised you. Like I know you from somewhere before an’ I know this might be coincidence... But VOR is one of your beneficiaries... “Dr. Morpheus raises an interested eyebrow...

“Are you the Master?” Yaz asks, shooting in the dark. Dr. Morpheus leans back in his chair, a beaming expression. “Ooooh very, very good Ms. Kahn. See? You can be intelligent when you want to.” His tone of voice changes to something more sinister... “But no... I’m not the Master. I’m far more dangerous than they’ll ever be.”

“How so?” Yaz questions, her stomach churns. “Well, for starters, I’ve beaten them. Time and time again. I’ve defied the odds against them. Often sacrificing myself to do so.”

“So, you’re a good guy?” Yaz asks optimistically. “No... Far from it Yaz. You know that for definite... But that’s beside the point. You came here to investigate, to solve a mystery. Here’s a mystery though. Who are you?”

Yaz is taken aback, “you what?”

“You heard me... Who are you? Who are you without that ‘dead-weight’ Doctor? What does Yaz do when faced against impossible odds all alone? I want to know why out of everybody in the universe... The Doctor travels with you and the rest of the ‘fam’.”

“The Doctor warned me about you!” Yaz stirs uncomfortably in her chair. She feels constricted, her breathing is trapped. “You’re... The Dream Lord!”

“Yes... I’d like to know what you dream about Yaz. What lies have you buried in your subconscious... I think it’s time we both find out, don’t you?” The Dream Lord says slyly as the room fills with an echo of chirping birds... Yaz panics, clasping her hands to her ears... “Tweet tweet... Time to sleep...” The room went a pitch black…

CHAPTER SEVEN

Yaz was falling. At least, she felt like she was... Her hair swept behind her, falling wildly as her body plummeted further down this chasm of darkness. The air was forced from her lungs as the pressure on her back grew In immensity. Around her, odd spiral structures formed, encasing her falling form in a tight grip. The strange spiralled texture inspired familiar fear within Yaz as she sails limp fists against the structures. Just as they seem to get tighter and tighter, her lungs compressing, her bones cracking and giving way under the pressure... Yaz screams with blood filled eyes...

...

“BETTI?!” A wrinkled had grabs and pulls at Yaz’s arm. Stirring her from an awful situation. “Yasmin, are you okay?” Nani Umbreen says in distress. Her eyes are tearing up, she witnessed something awful. Yaz blinks wildly, scanning the room around her. It’s dull interior invades her senses. “Where ‘s Dr. Morpheus?” Yaz mumbles, rubbing the crusted dust from her eyes. “Yasmin, he came in and saw we were talking, he didn’t want to disturb us.” Nani Umbreen smiles warmly, her thumb casually strokes the back of Yaz’s hand. Yaz rises slowly in response to the ‘Alien’ sensation. “I, um... Can I just go outside for a bit Nani? I don’t feel too well.” Yaz lies, clutching her temple with timid fingers. “Well, okay Betti, you get some air. I’ll still be here... I hope.” Yaz is taken aback, her head sways like she’s received a horrible case of whiplash. “Nani! You can’t joke about that. I’ll be right back okay? I’ll speak to the staff, see if they can open some windows around here.” She tugs at her shirt, “it’s gotten really, really warm all of a sudden...” Yaz mutters to herself as she wanders out of the room.

...

Yaz felt her legs weaken and tremble. Causing her to collapse on to a bare, yellowed corridor wall. Her head is fuzzy, things feel upside down as she pushes herself away. Her sense of direction is fading as each step merges into the next. Above her an annoying alarm sounded. Nurses rushed by, pushing past her with hushed tones of “move out of the way. And “excuse me, thank you.” Yaz felt dazed as even the light of the corridor window was harsh against her eyes. Yet, the window was closed, its tacky, wooden shutters had covered it completely... So why was she seeing light? Her mind flicked back to several seconds ago but slowly... What was the alarm for? The alarm signalled a new arrival to Clyffside. The home went deathly silent as the squeaky, clunky wheels of a rusted silver stretcher trundled past a group of onlooking nurses and patients...

...

The Doctor’s vision was blurred. Figures swayed by her as they looked on with white, curious eyes. Her limbs were constricted, tied? No... Clamped down on cold steel. Her ears focus on the constant, squeaky, trundling of rusted wheels on damp carpets. She was heading somewhere, but where? The world around her was an off-yellow abyss. Corridors merged and folded in one another as she passed through them. The Doctor decided to focus on her smell. She quickly decided it was a terrible idea, the stench of neglect and age overwhelmed her. Wherever she was, she’d hoped she didn’t have to hold her breath for too long. Her captors didn’t think much to their situation. They carelessly rolled their cargo through the corridors of Clyffside. The elderly in the halls look on sadly, they have no comprehension for the actions of their ‘carers’. Almost every week, a fresh body is brought in to replace the last one. The residents of the home can’t socialise or even remember their fellow residents from their deteriorated minds. Instead, as they look on hopelessly, something flickers dimly in the back of their heads...

...

The Doctor found that her vision clashed with two realities. One was a bizarre landscape of dull corridors and stale air... The other, her corrupted TARDIS. The yellow hexagonal panels crack and splinter above her, raining down on her helpless form. Each jagged shard is as sharp as a thousand pin pricks... Her body now convulses with the violent sensations as she shakes violently on the cold steel of the stretcher. This prompts alarm from her captors as they rush her into an unoccupied room…

...

Moments earlier, Yaz stumbled through the corridors. Drawn to the sound of clunky wheels. Something new, something different was happening here. She had to find it. Yaz forced herself to wake up, shaking her head, pinching her wrists. These minor actions worked eventually, and she found herself slightly buzzed after her period of sleep. She’d also noticed the deafening sound of rusted, squeaky wheels approaching the corridor. Yaz had to think fast, diving into an empty room and rushing to enter a tall, standing wardrobe. Through a tiny crack between the seams of the door... She was able to observe a strange sight... The Doctor was being wheeled in on a steel stretcher, surrounded by armed guards. She was horrified to see that the Doctor was having some kind of seizure. Her body struggled and bashed against the metal frame of the stretcher. Yaz held her hand over her mouth and began to cry silent tears...

...

The guards had hurriedly rushed their cargo into the room. Two of them hastily unclamped the flailing Doctor and tossed her into the stiff, stale-looking bed. It did nothing to ease her condition as they grabbed syringes that were placed nearby. Injecting the Doctor with a blue liquid... Her condition seems to get better... Her body slowed its movements... She opened her eyes with a loud gasp.

...

The Doctor sat bolt upright in a bland, empty room. Her eyes immediately scan her surroundings, but she finds herself blinking constantly, hoping that each time she blinks the room will refresh itself like a webpage. Upon realising that wasn’t going to happen, she lept from the bed like an excited child on Christmas morning. While pacing the room, feeling the strange, harsh texture of the worn-out carpet on her boots... She had no idea where she was. Why had the Dream Lord left her? Is this the source of everything? Or was it another stupid dream? These questions flooded the Doctor’s mind until a sudden bang made her jump from her very skin. The bland wardrobe doors opened and Yaz tumbled out of them... “Yaz!” The Doctors tells excitedly, rushing to hug her but Yaz steps aside. “Yaz? Come on it’s me! The Doctor!”

“Doctor, I know who you are! You daft woman!” Yaz chuckled but soon straightened up. “What are you doing here?” Yaz asked, slightly annoyed that the Doctor has interrupted things. “First things first.” The Doctor holds a finger out and wags it impatiently. “Where am I and when am I?!” Yaz relents, “Sheffield, 2020... Clyffside Care Home.” She speaks sarcastically, but soon notices the fear in the Doctor’s eyes. “Care... Home? But... Surely, I’m not that old! I mean sure it’s been about...” She starts counting on her fingers mumbling numbers ranging from thousands to oddly, billions...

“Doctor!” Yaz snaps at the Doctor, “there’s something going wrong and I bet you’re a part of it!”

The Doctor takes a few steps back, “oh, yeah sure sorry. Right then! I need to know why you’re here, then we can figure things out from there.”

“Well, I’ve been visiting here for the past few days. Investigating into reasons as to...”

“Why everything’s off?” The Doctor cuts in excitedly.

“Well, yeah! I found some reports at the station about disappearances, suspicious deaths. Then, maybe more worryingly... This home has been trying to get us together, to trap us. Graham’s had leaflets; Ryan’s had phone calls. Even Grace before she died kept getting contacted to work here. This is all before we met you! Now worse, Nani Umbreen is here!” The Doctor gasps, she paces back and forth. “Yaz, you’re brilliant! Big, big points from me! Why was she admitted though?”

“She had a stroke and was brought her by her ‘request’ which is rubbish!” Yaz continued. The Doctor nods solemnly, gently holding Yaz’s shoulders, “Yaz, I think we’re both in big trouble here. Something has wanted to bring us both together, here in this building.”

“You mean the Dream Lord?” Yaz butts in smugly.

“Yes. But how did you know that?” The Doctor asks.

“You’ve warned me about him... You’ve appeared in visions all week. You even intercepted a phone call to tell me about them... Who is he anyway?”Yaz asked. She rubbed her hands nervously, the last few days had been a blur.

The Doctor replies sternly. “He’s an old enemy, he could manipulate dreams, reality... Now... He’s gotten stronger. It’s drained the TARDIS. It’s dead outside. Whatever it’s goal is. It has something to do with this building...”

“And the people?” Yaz asks nervously.

“Most likely. When we last ‘spoke’ he mentioned that even draining the TARDIS wasn’t enough for em’. He wants to change, evolve into something new. We can’t allow that.”

“He, it tried to attack me earlier... It’s pretending to be a someone called ‘Dr. Morpheus’.”

The Doctor snorts, “Morpheus?! Oh that’s just dumb! ‘God of dreams!?’ What. A. Hack!” The Doctor takes a breath and rolls her hands, gesturing ‘carry on’. “But nothing happened,” Yaz continued begrudgingly, “He went on about wanting to know what I dream about, what my life is without you.”

“Did you wake up?” The Doctor snaps, realising something terribly wrong.

“Y, yeah... I woke up back in Nani’s room. It was weird, like my mind had been wiped... I was dizzy...” Yaz mumbled worriedly.

“Yaz... This is really important... Did you hear birds?” The Doctor said… Slowly.

“No? I don’t think I did...” Yaz replies unsure. The Doctor’s eyes widen, her mouth loosens. “Yaz, I’m really, really sorry.” She grips softly into Yaz’s shoulders. “You’re still asleep. This is a part of his game.” Almost on que... The room went cold. Frost grew and cracked across the small window. “Doctor, no... I, I woke up! No please, I woke up!” Yaz said breathlessly. What little of her breath remained swirled around them, filling the air with a harsh fog. “Yaz. I need you to be brave. Don’t let him win, don’t let him in your mind... He’ll take the very worst of you...” The Doctor says calmly while backing away slowly. “I’ll find you. I promise.” The room around them begins to shift. Spiralled stone pillars crack and erupt from the floor, encasing Yaz in a misty forest full of the stone structures. Yaz shakes her head as the last visage of the Doctor is closed off to her...

CHAPTER EIGHT

The Doctor struggled to keep focused on Yaz as she faded into the distant void. But she couldn’t tell if she had... She was in a pitch darkness. The void she stood in was cold, the Doctor shivered like an abandoned puppy left outside in a winter’s night. The Doctor decided that the best way to get to or out of places was to keep moving forward. ‘Thanks Walt.’ The Doctor muttered with her inner monologue. With each plodding step she found her ears recoiled, the sound was metallic, like pounding on the inside of a metal furnace. The Doctor took several more steps. Again, the thunk of riveted, welded, metal rang out. ‘Is Hell truly the Devil’s dustbin?’ The Doctor mused as she held her arms outstretched. Her fingertips delighted at the sensation of touch, marvelling at the rusted, thick metal surrounding her. ‘Wait? Why am I excited to find out I’m trapped?’ The Doctor drums her fingers on the metal thoughtfully... ‘Ah!’ She smirks... ‘To be in a trap... You have to at the bare minimum be alive to be in one.’ The Doctor sniffs at the silly observation. She missed her friends the most in this situation. She could bounce off them, keep them calm, be the funny one in the group. She pressed her hands harder in the cold, steel surface. Her fingers sizzled and tingled the harder she pressed. The Doctor’s eyes widened as the surface seemed to bubble and suck her in. She found that she could escape! But to what? The Doctor was submerged in a thick environment devoid of light. Her body contracted and was pushed by invisible forces. Under hushed breaths, the Doctor stammered as she realised, she was surrounded by voices of the damned. They beg and scream for salvation, clinging to the only living thing in their proximity. The Doctor often flip-flopped on her belief in Hell but in this moment, this very second in eternity... As the invisible hands clawed and clenched at her coat... She believed...

...

Yaz’s breaths were harsh. She was pushing herself to run as deep into this environment as she could go. Her feet pounded against an empty surface. She made no impact as nothing echoed from her. Not her breathing, her feet, even her incomprehensible murmurs of fear. Deeper and deeper she ran. Soon, the world began to echo something, something cruel... Something wicked. “This is merely the first layer of the being known as Yasmin Kahn. The one that runs, the one that lets fear overcome them...” The Dream Lord’s words ooze out like a creeping flood of molten metal... Yaz stumbles and stops abruptly. Leaning against a twisted stone pillar. “What do you want?!” She yells into the void. Her voice isn’t carried out. “I’ve told you. I want to know who you are.” The Dream Lord replies slyly. Yaz could feel his sharp teeth gnash together in a ghastly grin. “Yeah!” Yaz replies with sarcastic confidence, “I know what ya want with me... But why have a care home? Why base yourself here if you could travel anywhere? Hmm?” Yaz stands her ground now, pudding from the spiral pillar. “If you’re all big and powerful... A lord?! Why lock yourself here? Why... Try and trap me, Graham and Ryan here? I’ve researched this place, the leaflets, the text messages. Did you hurt my Nani to bring her here?!”

“No.” The Dream Lord flashes just ahead of Yaz. His grin cuts upwards into his face, “Your ‘Nani’ had that stroke on her own accord.” He begins to plod forward... “It wasn’t exactly the plan. I knew if I brought her here, you’d come running to her. Seeing as you’re her favourite grandchild.” He looks dourly at the floor. “But not enough of a favourite to actually care for her? Not enough care to save her true love? Not enough care to leave them to trek for thousands of miles to get to Sheffield!”

“You don’t have a clue about who I am. I have nothing to prove.” Yaz bites back, “all this... Fr what? It’s just attention seeking, this isn’t a test.” The Dream Lord looks up and smirks grimly, “not satisfied Yaz? Do you want to see what’s really going on?” Yaz nods, suddenly feeling the ground shake and turn to ash. The stone spirals flake and burn away, revealing a plain room in Clyffside Care Home. It seemed to be the middle of the night as a stale breeze penetrated through the open window. Laid on the bed was a lone, elderly patient. Her eyes were deeply sunken in, the skin on her fingers was loose. Her breathing was hoarse, sounding like rusted metal being scraped… “Hello?” Yaz said softly, again her voice carried no echo. She was non-existent. This poor woman was dying alone in this uncomfortable bed. Yet no one was there to comfort her... No one except her and a slowly growing figure at the side of the bed.

“I like you Yaz.” The Dream Lord’s voice echoes violently from the wood-chipped walls. “So, I’m going give you some hints and a head start over the Doctor. I mean, this had been your investigation! Your moment to shine... But of course, the Doctor comes in to steal it. To bury it, stamp out your light...” the figure has grown a tweed jacket and a blood-red bow tie. It stands by the side of the bed, grinning. “Humans, you all have a light. A soul that energises these... Husks you call bodies.” He places slim fingers on the woman’s forehead... The instant, cold touch of impeding death causes her to shiver violently in her bed.

Yaz was powerless. While the Dream Lord boasted and lectured, she had tried to force her way to him, finding her body confined in place, like her body was contained in an invisible coffin... Her hands and feet pounded against the ‘surfaces’. To add insult to injury, her movements of protest was silent. She had no option but to look on and memorise the elderly woman’s face, let it burn into her memory and have her be one of many lives that the Dream Lord will pay for... The Dream Lord seemed to be ‘extracting’ some kind of essence from the elderly woman. His fingers ran with dimmed lights, lighting them up like cheap Christmas lights... The already frail body of the woman shrank and shrivelled away, she became rotting fruit right before Yaz’s eyes. As it was the middle of the night, the staff would wrongfully assume that this woman had died peacefully in her sleep. Yet, Yaz was cursed with the knowledge that she’d died screaming a silent scream... As the Dream Lord finished his procedure, he’d left the body to slump against the stiff pillow, letting her face roll and mouth hang open. Empty eyes stared deeply at Yaz who stood silent, but held the rage of wildfire within her...

The Dream Lord approached the invisible visage of Yaz, cradling flickers of dancing lights between his fingertips. “The thing is Yaz,” The Dream Lord speaks lowly,” all those monsters you defeat... The ones you leave out in the cold. They grow stronger in the dark. The cold harshens their skin. We get powers beyond your comprehension. I hold within these ‘fingers’ is a life, one long, boring life at that! As you live a life, you make choices. Choices that alter and change the dynamic of your existence. Today... You will make that choice, but not yet.” He smirks as he steps aside, revealing the elderly lady is now stood upright, her neck is crooked... Her skin is a cracked, charcoal black. Her sunken eyes stare harshly at Yaz... “I’ve got other appointments to attend. I’ll let you schedule an appointment with my secretary here.” He gestures a wicked hand towards the shambling, burnt corpse... “Doris, would you please?” The Dream Lord flickers away, leaving the remains of ‘Doris’ to croak with a dry voice and lurch towards Yaz. The terrified companion is wide-eyed and frantic, banging on her invisible prison. While Doris scratches cracked fingernails on the impregnable surface...

...

In the chamber that was Hell, The Doctor closed her eyes. In the slow instant of silence, the Doctor released a slow, calming breath. Clearing the room of the hallowed cries of the tortured. Upon opening her eyes again, she found that her feet were encircled in a thin veil of mist. Her breath had no destination. Instead of reaching up, it retreated to the depths below her. In this space, there was a slight breeze of someone breathing... Her coat flapped and rippled carefree behind her. The Doctor’s eyes adjusted, and several figures appeared ahead of her. As the Doctor walked on she found that the figures were composed of mist. They had no identity, only their hushed voices as they seemed to be building or mining something... Their ‘arms’ swung down repeatedly but made no sound. These figures were being put to work but to what end?

As the Doctor trudged on, her feet began to impact fragments of metal that wasn’t there before. Each step crunched and scraped. Her boots sunk deeper and deeper into a ground of shredded metal; her brow began to sweat with unfeeling heat... “I do love a dramatic reveal, don’t you?” The Dream Lord speaks out loud but receives no response. This barely catches the Doctor off guard as she looks ahead. “Where am I?” She asks coldly despite the intensifying heat. The Dream Lord smirks as he slides beside the Doctor, offering a hand to guide her politely. The Doctor gives the sly figure a piecing glare. “Very well then.” The Dream Lord sulks, “I finally become physical and you decide to leave me in the cold. What’s new?” He shrugs as he leads the Doctor ahead. As they walked along, the ringing of steel pounded with hammers echoed above them. “Where are you taking me? I’ve asked already!” The Doctor mutters in response... The Dream Lord hastily stops and turns suddenly. A grin stretches across his face...

“Well, put simply Doctor.” The Dream Lord smiled whimsically. “Welcome to ‘The Dream Factory!” The room around them shifted and moulded, brick walls became covered in soot, gargantuan brickwork chimneys erupted from the ground beneath them. They bellowed thick, grey fumes like a never-ending furnace. The grinding sound of engines and grunts and pained groans of weary workers filled the air. The once, stale oxygen of the home had been reduced to a smoggy mess. Filling the Doctor’s lungs with poison... Amongst the choking of fumes, the Doctor pleaded for more answers. “These people?! Who are they? What are they doing here...? What are you doing with them?” The Doctor covers her face with a sleeve, only her bright eyes illuminate the darkness. “I own them Doctor, simple capitalism.” The Dream Lord laughs. “This home, these people... They’re an invaluable resource...”

“Really?” The Doctor asks sarcastically. “No! They’re awful!” The Dream Lord sniggers, “They’re old, they’re stupid. They remind me of you, old git!”

“Hey!” The Doctor stands defiantly, “you don’t look too well yourself. Tweed isn’t a good look for you.” She smirks and crosses her arms. “Fine then.” The Dream Lord snaps his fingers, his tweed outfit and blood-red bow tie melts and drips away, revealing a ‘homage’ to the Doctor’s own outfit. An inverted rainbow is scratched across a black t-shirt coupled with ripped yellow braces; a bleached coat drags across the floor. “I couldn’t be bothered to match the trousers. Even I can’t deal with them not reaching my shoes, you weirdo.”

“Never mind. Change it back.” The Doctor says defeated. “I’m able to pull this look off. You’re trapped in the past. Way into the past.” Slowly, the Dream Lord’s outfit shifts back, he eventually adjusts a blood-red bow tie. “What are you making these people do? Why are you using them?” The Doctor snaps, putting the conversation back on track. She had to admit it was amusing for the Dream Lord to wear her clothes for a moment. “Mostly slave labour, Doctor. I need them to construct something wonderful. Something that could only be built here. In this realm...”

“These people...” the Doctor mutters.

“Yes, they’re dead. Unlike your TARDIS. Once the energy has been drained it’s not completely empty. It’s like, flipping the dead batteries around in a TV remote. Despite being dead, transferring the energy keeps them going!” He raises his hand dramatically, marvelling at the flickering light show on his palm, running down his fingers.

“Let me demonstrate.” With a point of his finger, a figure appeared. It was an elderly woman; her eyes were wide and frantic. Her form frail and crooked. She screamed yet had no mouth... The Doctor looked on, horrified yet powerless... “Doris here, recently passed away, real shame. No one came to visit her. She was poorly fed and even dropped out of a harness that helps her out of bed every morning. It explains her crooked form...” the Dream Lord claps his hands together, “anyway! Her useless life above in the living world means that she has enough reserved energy for me to manipulate down here to help with the construction.”

“What construction?!” The Doctors demands an answer, but the Dream Lord ignores her, instead focusing on his pet... “Hop along Doris. You have work to do. All of you are required for the final phase...” The Dream Lord says through gritted teeth... “Wait, hang on!” The Doctor exclaimed, “if you’re all physical an’ all that... Why are we still in a dream then? Hmm? Unless...?” The Doctor waves a hand towards the Dream Lord... “Don’t touch...!” The Dream Lord bellowed but his protests were unheard as the Doctor’s hand sailed through his form... He was just a projection! “I knew it! That’s why you’re still syphoning energy! An’ why you still took the TARDIS energy, as well as draining these poor people... What’s your endgame? Tell me right now!” The Doctor roars, sending a chill in the room... The Dream Lord sighs, “fine” he said. “I need to build a pathway, an energy transfer of sorts. I want to truly be physical! Taking these... Elderly husks isn’t enough...” He looks upon the Doctor with a sly smile... I need, my other half...”

“You what?” The Doctor asks, baffled and slightly terrified...

“You heard... Me and you... We’re the same! I manifested from your mind, your fears! Together, we could be unstoppable, be a force for good? Be a force for evil? Bit of both? Ah, we’ll flip a coin!”

“You’re right insane!” The Doctor remarks, slowly backing away...

“Don’t you see though Doctor? You forcefully ripped me away. Sent me into the vacuum of space! I had to claw my way back, forge myself again. With the residual energy of the Time Rotor... I could do that.”

“I don’t get what you’re hinting at mate.” The Doctor huffs.

“In order to escape that cold abyss, I had to concentrate, really hard and transfer my psychic energy. After all, I was just pollen right?” The Dream Lord smirks, “after some time building up my energy, I was able to punch a hole in the vortex... Landing myself in Sheffield... 2018!

“What?! But that’s when... I arrived! The Doctor stammered nervously...

“Ah, no that’s where you’re wrong. I arrived earlier, setting this entire scheme into motion... I had to bring you here...” The Doctor begins to sprint away, her escape is in vain however, the shredded metal rises and clasps her hands and feet. She’s stuck in place, lightly buried under shards of metal. As the Dream Lord stands over her...

“Why do you need my body?!” The Doctor screams.

The Dream Lord steps back, astonished and disgusted... “I don’t need YOUR body you egotist!” The Dream Lord snapped back. “I want A body, MY OWN body! Why would I want to walk around looking like...? You! Besides,” his head tilts slyly... “I don’t need you... I need Yaz.”

“What do you mean? If you lay a finger or try to!” The Doctor begins to struggle but finds herself sinking deeper and deeper into the steel quicksand...

“Look, I let you keep Amy,” the Dream Lord said. “It’s only fair I keep Yaz this time, it’s not like you need her any more than me! Just think of the adventures we’d have! She’d take centre stage, problem solving, maybe getting a line in for once! Have her voice heard!” The Doctor looked on, baffled as if she was somewhat aware there was a wider field of reference... “Speaking of choices actually... You need to figure out if this is a dream or reality. You can try and escape the perilous situation you’re in... Or succumb to it. Meld yourself to the ‘living metal!’ Either way, your choice is pointless... Dream Lord trailed off, “Now, if you excuse me...I’ve got to check up on my other patient...” As the Dream Lord slowly evaporated... The Doctor closed her eyes and sunk deeper into the depth below the layers of metal...

CHAPTER NINE

The scraping of broken fingernails continued to ring in Yaz’s ears. Her invisible, coffin-sized prison was still holding her in place. This husk of a creature before her wanted nothing now but bloodthirsty revenge. As Yaz closed her eyes, she thought of Nani Umbreen, how she desperately needed her to get out of this building. Tears ran down her face at the thought of her Nani scratching her nails, her corpse restlessly attacking her... Then the form that was Doris crumbled away. Her arms, legs, and head tumbled and fell to pieces, turning into a pile of ashes on the floor. Yaz daren’t move. Standing upright but deciding to extend a finger to the invisible walls... Her eyes widened and she gasped to find that there was none. She took several steps out and realised foolishly, that she could’ve escaped the whole time. Fear... Fear had held her in place. This could perhaps be her salvation as she sprinted towards the door. The corridors were impossibly twisted, the wallpaper was mouldy and slowly peeling off. The small thuds of soggy paper echoed throughout. This ‘world’ wasn’t being maintained and Yaz sought to exploit that. ‘This Dream Lord’ clearly has a problem with multitasking.’ Yaz smirked to herself as she navigated the maze ahead of her. She realised that in order to affect anything, she had to be awake. Both her, and the Doctor had to be. As Yaz peered into the resident’s rooms she found nothing useful, most of the items had turned to mush or were too rotten to be used. She had to reach something that didn’t have influence in the home... Her squad car! Yaz made a sprint and by luck or coincide, she’d found a pair of chipped, wooden double doors...

...

The outside world was a sorry husk of itself. The sky ran with a sickly green, nearby trees were twisted and black. Their branches seemed to extend and purposefully block out the exits. This didn’t matter to her as her eyes made way to her pristine squad car. As she expected, because it was outside of the Dream Lord’s influence, he couldn’t control it. Fumbling around in her pocket she finally found the keys, they felt warm, almost boiling as she’d plugged them into the car door and turned. Yaz didn’t intend to escape... She intended to wake up. Yaz plugged her keys into the ignition and turned them. After several moments, the engine spluttered to life, it was like it hadn’t been used in years. As she left the engine running, Yaz’s mind fluttered to the possibility that she’d been trapped in this never-ending nightmare forever... Did her family know? In fact, how long has she been dreaming? Since first meeting Nani Umbreen? Or discovering the... Yaz shook her head, placing her hands on the dashboard she felt a warm tingle on the worn-out plastic. Her car was ready to save her...

...

The Doctor was once again incapacitated. Her form was limply pushed along in a stretcher down the hollowed corridors. Yet, she wasn’t being pushed by anyone... An invisible force was exerting itself as the stretcher reached a rusted service elevator. The iron doors screeched open and closed after the stretcher parked itself. As the elevator descended... The Doctor was gifted a moment of consciousness. She could see the neglected walls of the elevator around her flicker and shift into the hellscape she was trapped in. Her mind frazzled trying to distinguish dream from reality as the doors scraped open, allowing the haunted stretcher to stalk the narrow passageway ahead of them. Finally, the stretcher carted its way through a series of double doors. The atmosphere down in the depths of Clyffside was stiflingly cold. Icy mist swirled below her. Creating an illusion of a bottom less floor. The stretcher ‘floated’ across the clouds towards a rudimentary ‘morgue’. This seemed to be a dark, concealed secret within the home.

...

The morgue was spacious but paradoxically cosy with panelled walls of lids surrounding the area. The cold was harshly felt here as the Doctor’s skin rippled with goosebumps. The room continued like a grand hall, eventually ending bathed in a strange blue light. The stretcher parked by a small Vat containing a glowing blue substance. “Forgive the mess.” The Dream Lord said as he fizzed into view at the foot of the stretcher. His form was cast in shadow, only slightly illuminated by the cold, blue hue. “It’s not much, but it’s home.” He strode along the length of the stretcher, a smirk on his face. He reached out a caring hand towards the glowing vat. “If you were at least half-awake, this would be important info.” He taps his fingers gently on the glass, the same way a child would grab the attention of a pet fish. After some tense moments, the glow soon dimmed, revealing a singular, clump of pollen. “You see Doctor.” The Dream Lord began. “My physical form remains. For the process to work, there must be a transference of mind...” He places a palm flat on the lid of the tube... “And body...”

...

Yaz gripped the steering wheel tightly. The rumble of the engine below her reminded her of the dregs’s animalistic roars. Her squad car was now poised to drive straight at a sturdy brick wall. “If you die in a dream... You wake up in reality.” Yaz muttered while shifting the car into gear. The heavy clunk signifying a readiness from the vehicle. Yaz decided to check one more time that this was a dream. Unfurling a crumpled-up leaflet, she tried to read the contents. “Ya can’t read in a dream...” Yaz said while gripping the odd paper. Her eyes squinted, trying to read the fine print:

fvhtsxvnjutrfbjkoutesvhjyrdsawedxvnhsxhjurghjitfhjkkiureadcbbjurechtechrdhnmkitddvbjyddvbnjutfvbhgdchggrdgghyyrfgHelloiknowyouarereadingthisadvjyrghhedhvvggggggtrvjyedvjiyecvjrscjscjfhhdxhhyfvjurcjbbvvftbmjfdrykloougvdsargvkktcerhkivdgvhtudryrylyyitdrdfyvgcfdyri

‘Yeah, thought so.’ Yaz smirked, throwing the paper out of the window and planted her foot harshly onto the pedal. The car accelerated, picking up speed, the wind shot by and whistled like a horde of screaming demons. Closer and closer the wall approached...” I’m coming Doctor.” Yaz closed her eyes…

With a harsh gasp for air, Yaz bolted upright. She was still in ‘Dr Morpheus’ office. Wasting no time, Yaz bundled the scraps of paper into her jacket. But stops herself realising that they were blank. Everything was blank. She sighed, ‘just another case of wishful thinking Officer Kahn.’ Yaz thought to herself harshly but shook it off, she had to focus. It would be a matter of time before the Dream Lord decided to check back on her. ‘Thank you, Doctor.’ Yaz rushed from the office down a small flight of stairs that wasn’t there before. Her mind raced, she had to get people away from the building, she had to get Nani away from the building... Her frantic eyes spot an ominous red box on the wall. Yaz smiled as she drew her fist.

...

Below them in the bowels of Clyffside, the Doctor was struggling against the bonds of the stretcher. Yet, she remained unconscious, the Dream Lord hunched over and looked curiously. Before he could look too closely... An awful siren sounded, echoing and eroding the sound barrier. The Dream Lord snarled, realising his mistake as he pounced through the double doors, leaving the Doctor alone with the vat...

...

Among the confused staff and patients, Yaz was determined. She weaved in and out between wheelchairs, elderly walkers, and those that had fallen or collapsed. She had one room she needed to get to, room thirteen. As she walked on, she was sure to listen out for birds or the Dream Lord and his tweed and bowtie... She stopped just outside a nurses’ station. Her eyes lit up with an idea. She slides next to the door and checks that the staff are distracted before finding that the door is locked with a number code. She slams a palm on the cheap wooden door. Leaning her forehead hard in the surface. She cursed the Doctor for not giving her a sonic screwdriver. She turned her head upwards and gasped, the staff had engraved the number combination into the wooden border: 2468. After imputing the numbers Yaz was greeted with a satisfying click as the door slowly swung open.

...

The room was approximately the size of two small bedrooms. A cluttered desk lived in the corner of the nurses’ station. Files and sheets of paper were laid out and spread with abandon. Approaching tentatively, Yaz peered at the papers checking to read them: Patient Records. Yaz nodded in relief, making her way to a cabinet. Her hands rummaged the insides, pulling out cartons, tablets, confiscated cigarettes. Her hands finally reach a bunch of syringes, they’re filled with yellow liquid. “Adrenaline.” Yaz confirms before stuffing them in her jacket but keeping one out just in case. She turns swiftly and is met with a figure stood in the corner; their back is turned. “Oh, hello. I’m PC Kahn. I’ve come to investigate the fire alarm. Why are you still here? You need to evacuate the premises.” Yaz says nervously, the alrams keeping her on edge.

The figure doesn’t move.

“Sir, you need to evacuate the building. There’s still a fire alarm going off.” Yaz says impatiently.

Again, the figure is deathly silent.

Yaz, frustrated, marches to the figure, placing a hand on its shoulder. “Sir!” The figure turns swiftly, noiselessly... A familiar visage of tweed and bow tie is revealed. “Look at you, trying to be all ‘authoritative’.” The Dream Lord snarls hastily grabbing and reaching for Yaz’s arm. Yaz slides back, dropping her syringe while ducking under the attack. Using the height advantage to sweep under the Dream Lord’s leg. Yet he just stood there, Yaz’s legs simply phased through them. “Pathetic.” The Dream Lord continues to march ahead, Yaz shuffles back, panicking now. “I think you need a time out Yasmin Kahn...” The room roared with the thunderous chirping of birds. Yaz clasps her hands to her hears, her forehead throbs relentlessly, looking down below her, Yaz eyes the dropped syringe of adrenaline rolling back to her. The Dream Lord stops just before her, his face is a twisted scowl. “Don’t you dare.” He lunges at her but Yaz is too quick, quickly popping the plastic orange cap and thrusting the needle into her arm...

...

The Doctor was weightless. Submerged under a layer of metal shards, her fingers were numb against the surface. She felt, something different, a change of body temperature. Like an incredibly hot bath had been exposed to freezing water. It stirred within her as her fingers began to wiggle and pull themselves free... Soon the rest of her limbs gained movement, creating an orchestra of movement allowing the Doctor to break free.

She rises out from the pit with a deep harsh breath. Her eyes are wide open, her skin is a pale grey. Her feet are numb and solid as she wanders the oddly abandoned boiler/factory hybrid. “W,w,w, what is it with metaphysical beings and their love for industrial revolution chic?!” The Doctor quipped with cold lips... She wandered ahead, looking for a way to disrupt the facility. She realised that Yaz had escaped and disrupted the care home, hence there being no one around. The Doctor reasoned that she had to destroy the factory before waking up herself. After crossing flaming furnaces, she hit the centre of the operation. A large vat stood in the centre, an opening presented itself to her as she curled her fingers around and slid it open, revealing the inner-layer, Nani Umbreen...

“Umbreen?!” The Doctor gasped, reaching for her sonic screwdriver to check life signs. After a whirr and a flash of yellow light, the Doctor was relieved to see that Umbreen was stable. She was in suspended animation. Placing her hands on the glass surface, the gears in the Doctor’s head turned... Now it makes sense. All those people, they were small fry. The Dream Lord needed someone with a tangible connection to them and the time vortex. Having already contacted Umbreen in her past, her wedding day no less. The potential energy was massive. If he couldn’t get the fam, he could get the next alternative. ‘But why wasn’t the TARDIS enough for him?’ The Doctor mused as her hands searched for an opening. She had to disconnect Umbreen and they had to escape...

...

The syringe had dropped to the floor, the plastic covering shattered, spreading pieces below the looming Dream Lord. The sound if birds slowly die down as Yaz recovers to her feet. “You have no power anymore...” Yaz says with dilated pupils. The Dream Lord steps back, almost in curious awe.

“Very good miss Kahn... Very good... This was admittedly an unexpected development.” The Dream Lord fizzes away in retreat, leaving Yaz to strain against the surge of energy within her. She clutches her arms tightly, trying to contain the throbbing, stinging pain coursing through them. She closes her eyes and breathes slowly... Focusing... “Must get to Nani...” Yaz mumbles as she shambles through the exit and into deserted hallways. They’re left in an apocalyptic state, wheelchairs are tuned over, aluminium medication trays are bent and buckled on the floor, the walls are adorned with scratches. Yaz struggles to take her surroundings in, her brain absorbing information like a sponge on overtime. The numbers of the patient’s doors flash by as she walks: 1,2,3,4,5,6,7,8,100,1965,1989,2005, 9999999999999999999999999999...

Yaz shakes her head violently. Refocusing her brain until she’s finally stood at the door or room thirteen. With a twitchy hand, she grips the handle and turns it ferociously, barging through the door in a manic, panic. She casts her eyes towards Nani Umbreen and Yaz despairs, she’s fast asleep...

...

In the calm stillness of the morgue, the Dream Lord is panicking. He paces the room, banging his fists against the stainless-steel lids. “Damn stupid health and safety regulations. How can I feed upon them if they’re not in the bloody place?!” He furiously punches a hole in the lid, after realising his mistake, he soon retracts it back. He swiftly turns to look upon the vat and the Doctor... A realisation dawns on him. “Oh... I’ve been stupid.” He slides to the unconscious Doctor’s side, placing a thumb on her forehead. “I’ve got to accelerate things now, thanks to ‘Yaz’! Such a stupid name... It’s just juvenile!” He places a second thumb on the Doctor and with that, the Dream Lord’s body begins to crackle with static, fizzing in and out as it contorts and folds in to enter the Doctor’s mind.

CHAPTER TEN

Yaz grew desperate. She knew that Nani Umbreen could be at the hands of unspeakable torture if she didn’t wake up soon. After attempting to shake her, raise her bed, splash water on her forehead, nothing worked. She had one choice... It was an awful choice but as she gripped an adrenaline syringe in her hand, Yaz had to make that choice.

...

In the boiler room, The Doctor had her sonic screwdriver poised, aimed at the glass surroundings of the vat that entrapped Umbreen. Severing her connection to the Dream Lord’s factory operation stood out to be the best chance at stopping him. Her thumb slowly presses on the sonic... Activating a small buzzing sound. Just before it gets to full power, the sonic is flung from her hand. It slides across the gravel-like flooring. Beside the Doctor, the Dream Lord scowls. “I won’t allow cheating! Not now. Not ever!” He grips violently onto the Doctor’s shoulders, his fingertips digging harshly. The Doctor helps in pain, struggling against her attacker. As their forces push and move around the room, the Doctor grins, she’s just spotted Umbreen in the vat... And she’s waking up... The Doctor pushes the Dream Lord away, letting him slam against a rusted furnace door. The intense heat singes his hands, causing him to scream in what the Doctor assumed was pain. The Doctor wastes no time however as she sprints to the vat and taps excitedly on the glass.

“Hiya Umbreen! It’s me, The Doctor! So good to see you again, listen! Before you go, you need to get Yaz below the care home! In the morgue! Remember the morgue! That bit’s really, really important! There’s a service lift that’ll take you down there... Remember the morgue Umbreen!”

Her speech is cut off as an enraged Dream Lord tackles her to the ground painfully, the Doctor looks up to the vat and sees Umbreen has vanished. The room slowly dims... A wave of cold blows over them... In the struggle, the Doctor looks upon the twisted face of the Dream Lord. “I guess ya didn’t pay off your gas bill? It’s freezin’ in ere’!”

...

Yaz knelt by Nani Umbreen’s side. A syringe gently sticks out from her forearm. Yaz’s eyes are full of hope and fear as she looks apon the husk-like body of Nani Umbreen. Yaz prepares for the worst as she removes the syringe softly and looks back to her. “Betti?” Nani Umbreen says warily. “Oh my God, Nani! You’re okay. I’m so sorry for leaving you.”

“Where did you go? Are you still at work?” Nani Umbreen leans up, squeezing Yaz’s hand. “Yeah Nani.” Yaz smiles warmly, “there’s a fire alarm, I need o get you out. Where’s your wheelchair?”

“Oh, it’s just in the corner.” Nani Umbreen replies, becoming more awake as Yaz rushes to the corner and unfolds the worn-out chair. “Yamin, I had a very strange dream. I was trapped underwater, and this woman kept trying to talk to me… She looked like a woman I hadn’t seen in years…” Yaz jogs over with the chair helping Nani Umbreen out of bed.

“Don’t worry about it Nani.” Yaz smiles, happy that the Doctor is okay. Nani Umbreen slumps in the wheelchair but her face befins to twist in shock. She grips tentatively to Yaz’s hands. “Betti! I remember! I remember! I have to get you to the morgue!” Her movements are fantic, panic stricken her cries are interrupted by a squad of firemen walking in.

“We’ve searched the building this is the last person left!” The leader said approaching Yaz. “Oh brilliant! Please, help my Nani she needs an escourt from you fine gentlemen.” Yaz smiles gently as Nani Umbreen is wheeled away. “BETTI! Remember the morgue!” Nani Umbreen wails as the group turn a corner.

“What did she mean?” The fireman asks.

“There’s staff down there that need escorting. I’ll sort it.” Yaz responds, opening a leather wallet, revealing her police badge.

“Ah, okay PC Kahn. Just get them outside just in case. The staff are in the process of notifying family.” Yaz nods as she strides from the room into the harrowing hallways. Nani Umbreen’s warning echoed out, deafening her as she placed a hand onto the wall. Her hand felt strange, there was a pulse within the walls… A heartbeat. Yaz curiously pressed her hand across the hallway, following it… Her eyes are distracted by the odd rippling of the yellowed wallpaper to notice the rusted service elevator as she bumps into it. Her impact rattles the steel struts, they wiggle like a fly caught in a spider’s web… Yaz feels a sharp shiver up her arm as she grasps the steel and pulls it across, opening into a vast, desolate space of the service elevator. “I guess this is the morgue then…” Yaz says timidly as she steps inside and closes the lift. Activating it’s decent into the depths of Clyffside Care Home…

…

During the infernal struggle between the Doctor and the Dream Lord, the Doctor was being crafty… As they pushed and pulled against one another the Doctor was sure to slam the furnaces shut, damping out the smouldering heat, shutting down the Dream Lord’s ‘dream factory systematically. The Dream Lord was in the fits of rage and had failed to notice this plight as through sharp, chipping teeth his spittle burns hot against the Doctor’s skin. “Nothing you do now can stop me Doctor! No one knows you’re buried under the house. Not Umbreen, not Yaz, not even the rest of your fam! You are powerless now. So, do ‘seat yourself’ won’t you?”

With a roar, the Dream Lord slams the Doctor into the empty vat. Its glass shell cracks and spills its contents onto the Doctor, paralysing her as her surroundings are moulded and shaped by twisting metal… The Doctor doesn’t react in time as the shards of metal twist and fold themselves around her legs and arms. She’s forced to stay seated as a metal cap forms and attaches itself to her head. It slowly begins to squeeze and grow tighter… Eliciting screams from the Doctor as her pain seems to be endless. Satisfied with his victory, the Dream Lord approaches confidently, adjusting his battered, blood-red bowtie… Straightening it with glee.

“Y’know what Doctor? I’m tired of the niceties, the tours, the monologues… I’ve kept you waiting long enough. It’s time. I’ve wanted to keep the extent of my power concealed; I didn’t want to burn out before it was truly needed y’know?”

The Doctor gives no response. She closes her eyes wearily… Her mind focuses on the most important person in the universe at this current moment… Yaz.

…

The service elevator grinds to a stop at the bottom of the shaft. Immediately, Yaz feels a deathly chill rise from the concrete floor. Despite the cold, Yaz persists… Pushing herself to wander the brickwork corridors. A faint echo calls out to her in the mist ridden distance…

“Yaz… Yaz… Yaz…” It was the familiar voice of the Doctor, clling out to her… Guiding her. Yaz closes her eyes and focuses, pushing her way through double doors, each getting harder and harder to push through. Yaz could sense a barrier being breached as she pushed through… Eventually reaching the Dream Lord’s stronghold, the morgue. The room was vacant apart from a small vat sat just ahead of an unconscious Doctor… Yaz gasps in surprise, rushing over to her, Yaz shakes her, willing her back to life. Her efforts seem fruitless however she knows deep down how to free the Doctor. Her hand shakily reaches into her jacket and retrieves an adrenaline syringe…

…

The Dream Lord stands ahead of the Doctor now, his form looms above her like an omnipotent force of unstoppable nature… He presses his thumbs into the Doctor’s forehead. “Look at me when I’m talking to you. It’s just rude if you don’t…” The Dream Lord snarls as he presses harder. Forcing the Doctor to open her eyes wide… The Dream Lord’s fingers pulse with energy that crackles like lightning. It zaps into the Doctor’s skull, jolting her senselessly in the makeshift chair. The Doctor could feel herself rot away, her memories slowly burn away, wiped like ancient tapes. Her adventures, her enemies, her friends and traveling companions, their deaths and their sacrifices reduced to nothing in her mind. The names of Katarina, Jamie, Jo, Sarah, Adric, Peri, Ace, Charley, Donna, Rory… Amy…Slowly burnt away to ashes…

“Oh…” The Dream Lord starts, “That’s where Amy and Rory got to. Your stupidity got them killed. All that bravado, all that effort… And they were wiped away, sent back never to see their friends and family again! Did you have the right Doctor?! To play God with their lives. To whisk people away then never brig them back the same, some not at all? I guess you left her in the dark after all… The eternal darkness…”

The Doctor continued to scream as the Dream Lord emptied her mind, her soul…

“Before you go and hand the keys over to me… I had something to say.” The Dream Lord says as he lets go. “I’d prepared my plan for all of your incarnations…” The Dream Lord steps back, his form shifts and changes into various outfits… An Edwardian gentleman with a crow-cane, a cosmic hobo with baggy trousers, eventually flashing through a variety of styles, snapshots of the Doctor’s life flash before her eyes before reverting back to his ‘original tweed and bowtie’ look. The only one I hadn’t prepared for… Not one bit… Was you. Simply put Doctor… You are not my Doctor! My Doctor wouldn’t play God, my Doctor wouldn’t just ‘move on to the present!’ You’re not worth my time, my effort. With me in your place… I can wipe the slate clean, go on proper adventures, meet interesting people! It’ll be the best of both worlds!” The Dream Lord smirks, his ghastly laugh rips through the Doctor as she struggles to speak…

“That’s the thing that everyone gets wrong mate.” The Doctor speaks coldly but with a warm ‘knowing’ smile. “You’re right!” The Doctor beams now, catching the Dream Lord off guard.

“You what?” The Dream Lord asks, moving closer to hear his captive.

“You heard me. I’m not your Doctor! I’m not anybody’s Doctor! I don’t have to be. I just be the best I can in my time now. These current moments, this current life has and will inspire those in their darkest time… ‘People’ like you are more than happy to stay in the past, to cling desperately to the glory days you thought you had. If there’s one thing that’s stuck with me throughout my lives, the lives you parade around to flaunt my mistakes… Is that I have my…”

The Doctor vanished before the Dream Lord. Leaving him stunned and enraged as the world around him crumbled and fell into ruin before his feet… He tries to summon his strength again, to reconstruct his dream factory… He was powerless… The Dream Lord screams into the void as his form fades away, leaving an empty silence… With his connection severed from the home, the building itself began to collapse. Pieces of the building falls apart, crashing onto the driveway. Eventually, the entire facility itself sinks and crumbles into the ground…

…

Yaz found herself on a knife edge of nerves, she had plunged an adrenaline shot into the Doctor’s arm. If it worked for Nani, would it work for the Doctor? The moments ticked by infinitely. Yaz looked upon her unconscious friend with tears in her eyes until, almost miraculously… The Doctor gasps to life, rising like a phoenix on the stretcher. Her smile is wide and glorious. “Mates!” The Doctor beams as she swivels off the stretcher. Her arms are outstretched as she embraces Yaz. “I knew you could do it Yaz! You were brilliant, you’re always brilliant. You just needed your moment, and you took it.” Yaz breaks off and takes steps back, “Is it over? What’s happened to the Dream Lord?” She asks the Doctor nervously.

“Well,” The Doctor claps her hands together. “The Dream Lord is trapped within his realm now. It’ll take some time to establish a new base and build up his power. He wasted it all trying to transfer himself into me. But you woke me up just in time. He’s a drained battery now.” The Doctor smirks rubbing her hands together to get herself warm. “It’s a bit chilly in here innit?” The Doctor and Yaz laugh together, for the first time in a long time.

“So… Can we talk? About the Halfway House? It’s been ages. At least I can imagine for you. I went to configure my thoughts, and all this happened!” The Doctor lets out a cheeky grin to a bemused Yaz. “I’m sorry Doctor, I’m not ready for that yet, I wanted to distance myself from it. Bit the first time you come back there’s chaos. I need more time, y’know? To think about things.” Yaz replies, sorrow ringing in her voice. “Yeah.” The Doctor nods timidly, she shuffles her feet across the concrete floor…

“I understand. I need to get back to the TARDIS anyway, y’know? Do some trips, you want a lift?” The Doctor perks up at the possibility. But Yaz is distracted. She senses something at the end of the room… Something they’d forgotten. “Doctor… What’s this vat?” Yaz extends her hand towards it much to the anguish of the Doctor. “YAZ NO!” The Doctor yells, but it’s too late… Yaz places her hand on the vat and a plume of thick smoke engulfs her, choking and filling her lungs as she gasps for breath… Her eyes are wide and fearful as she stares at the Doctor…

“I’m sorry… Doctor… I’m sorry…” Yaz mutters before collapsing to the floor. The Doctor darts to her side… As Yaz laid unconscious on the cracked concrete, the Doctor pounded her chest to resuscitate her. Her voice screaming into the void as Yaz falls deeper and deeper into a restless oblivion...

...

Yaz opened her eyes wearily. Immediately feeling a harsh chill of countryside wind, she buries herself in her fuzzy fleece. The thought hadn’t occurred to her that she’d changed clothes... Or travelled back three years again. Yaz moves to grip her hastily packed backpack, she intended to get away, as far as possible. It seems that she got her wish, with the Doctor she’s travelled beyond human comprehension of travel. Broken boundaries that was once thought unbreakable. At this moment, looking out into vast, misty countryside... She discovered that she was at peace with herself. “Oh dear, you’ve dozed off haven’t ya?” The oddly warm tone of a Yorkshire police Officer greeted Yaz. She turned timidly to see the familiar visage of a crumpled man with a battered blood- red bow tie.

“You’re not gonna fool me with that again.” Yaz stated smugly. The Dream Lord clicked his fingers, and his officer’s uniform melted away, tweed hatches scratched into the material, eventually returning to its former glory...

“Oh, very well. You both did wonders. I humbly accept defeat.” The Dream Lord slumps next to Yaz uncomfortably.

“Is this another dream?” Yaz asks unnerved.

“Yeah. But it’s a ‘nice’ one. I promise.” The Dream Lord replies, his eyes still empty, but a sad, hollow, kind of empty. There was an awkward silence between the two of them before the Dream Lord continues, “Don’t you find it funny how we have the same beginnings?”

“We?” Yaz asks. Stirring uncomfortably in her seating position.

“Well yes, we both of us began our ‘lives’ by running away. You ran from fear, towards salvation. I ran because I wanted to escape, to explore the universe. You probably know by now, you’re a smart one, Yasmin Kahn. I’m the Doctor. Well, I wanted to be. I guess. I just tried so very hard to be what the Doctor is. To be better than the Doctor is.”

“That explains why you’re being so nice now. The Doctor said you tried transferring yourself. Maybe, she gave you something back? The small hint of compassion in you, a gift from the Doctor!” Yaz smiles warmly. The Dream Lord stands, frustrated...

“Okay Yaz, to end everything off... I’m gonna do something nice for you. I’m going to use the last of my energy... To give you a choice.”

“You what?” Yaz barked back in surprise.

“Oh yeah, I’m a metaphysical construct of fairness… You have two options. Stay here at this side of the road and travel with me.”

“With you?” Yaz raises an eyebrow.

“Well, just think, I’m not too used to this adventuring malarkey.” The Dream Lord elaborates. “You could take the lead, be the problem solver... Actually matter! You loved it when you found the papers, got the gang together to put the clues together and now you’re here! Or... You can cross this road, go back to the Doctor. Become a footnote in her adventures, be the dummy, the one that gets lectured. Suffer in silence like you always did. Be forced to relive this moment again and again…”

Yaz looked across the barren road only to now see the warm sight of the Doctor. Her coat blows peacefully in the wind, a guardian angel. “I’m not travelling to be the centre of attention. I don’t travel to be the ‘hero’. I travel because it’s fun, because I feel alive. I travel because each adventure helps me learn and better myself. I travel to make a difference. I matter already!”

The dream Lord rolls his eyes, looking into the distance, he sees a barren wasteland. “Well Miss Kahn. You have a choice to make, I can’t keep the barriers open for long...”

Yaz stands confidently, looking across the road at the Doctor, at her friend. “I choose myself, with the Doctor... Always.” Yaz speaks with confidence, smiling at the Dream Lord as she looks back one last time. Yaz sprints ahead, her feet pounding on the malleable concrete below her. Each step propelling her further and further. Not seeing the bright blue car approaching at incredible speed to her right...

*THUD*

Yaz’s body again laid unconscious. Her arms flailed; legs twisted. Her eyes open wide. In the distance, a loud rabble of cackling echoes. “Did no one ever teach you to look both ways before crossing the street?!” The Dream Lord approached slowly, clapping his hands at the violent display. He hums and sings a dark tune... “Yasmin Kahn is a flat as a naan... Yasmin Kahn has spun her last yarn... Yasmin Kahn... Is mostly likely going to be buried under a... Barn!” He approaches the body tentatively, admiring it like a renaissance painting... Yet, as he takes a closer look, Yaz’s form decomposes. The clothes melt and bubble with heated steam erupting violently. It unveils a layer that horrified the Dream Lord... It was his own form that now laid twisted and unblinkingly on the road. The Dream Lord’s face sours realising a terrible mistake as he moves his hand to close the corpse’s eyes. Yet each swipe causes the eyelids to shoot back open, its eyes now pierce back at him.

“With your last smidge of power, ya’ decided to try one last time to kill my friends.” A familiar, haunting voice rung out throughout this ‘world’... The Dream Lord stumbles back, the concrete now breaking into pieces as floods of thick, black liquid seep in. It follows and chases the Dream Lord, his feet unable to carry him away, the distance, the salvation... Is moving further and further away.

The ominous voice of the Doctor continues to scold… “It seems almost sad for it to end this way. You had the chance to change, the chance to be a positive force in this expansive universe. Instead, you followed a pipe dream of cruelty. You thought this was Yaz’s nightmare? This is yours mate.”

The Dream Lord’s screams echo in the minuscule world around him. The liquid growing and sticking on him, covering his face... “Sweet dreams.” The Doctors says as the world goes black.

…

The Doctor’s plan worked. After furiously pumping her hands on Yaz’s chest to resuscitate her, Yaz’s life had reignited within her. Her eyes opened wide but closed soon after. This was enough for the Doctor as she moved to lift Yaz and carry her out of the morgue. The Doctor is cast in shadow as she continues to lift Yaz through the winding corridors. Upon reaching the service elevator the Doctor sighs. The elevator has collapsed, trapping the pair underground. The Doctor lays Yaz gently on the ground. She looks to the distance in despair. “We’ll run out of oxygen soon at this rate…” She leans against the service elevator, staring into the infinite corridor of darkness… Then, a sudden chill of wind blows through, an ancient, wheezing, groaning sound echoes out. It fills the Doctor’s hearts with joy and hope as her ghost monument fades in and out of view… First the roof lamp dims and glows, the yellowed windows appear in the corridor… Eventually, the full Police Box appears. “Brilliant!” The Doctor grins as she lifts Yaz and enters the TARDIS. Departing the abandoned catacombs of Clyffside Care Home…

EPILOUGE

SHEFFIELD-13:00 PM

At the door of Yaz’s flat in Park Hill, the Doctor knocked timidly after gently lowering Yaz to the floor. Najia Kahn answered the door in compete surprise and shock… “Yasmin?! What’s happened? What have you don…”

“Hiya Yaz’s mum…” The Doctor replies while knelt down. “Yaz’s fine. There was a terrible incident at the care home Umbreen was admitted to. I decided to bring her home, safe and sound. Can we come in?” Najia nods apprehensively, stepping aside to let the Doctor enter. A concerned look is cast on her face…

After leaving Yaz to rest on the sofa, the Doctor met with a familiar face… “Hello again… Doctor.” Nani Umbreen wheels herself in quietly, parking herself next to the Doctor. “People will think this is daft, but I saw you in my dreams.” Nani Umbreen whispered joyfully with a smile.

The Doctor gasps excitedly but quietens herself down as she seats herself next to Nani Umbreen. “It really is so good to see you again. How have you been? Y’know since the care home?” The Doctor asks. “Not so bad. I can rest easy knowing I’m out of that place. It was awful… All those people just locked away in buildings like that. If we’re to die… We should die with dignity.” The Doctor nods in agreement. Having come close to and actually dying several times, the thought of ‘dignity’ hadn’t crossed her mind before… “Are you named after your grandmother?” Nani Umbreen asks, snapping the Doctor out of her deep thoughts. She shakes her head confused.

“I’m sorry?” The Doctor responds, her eyes try to read the situation. Nani Umbreen leans in closer, inspecting the Doctor’s blushed face, her eyes are glowing warmly with relief. “You look just like your grandmother… I met her in 1947. She was a Doctor too! She officiated my wedding… Such a sad but beautiful time…” Nani Umbreen reminisces, clutching her heart longingly… “Yes, it was. I mean, from how my grandmother described it!” The Doctor smiles warmly, holding Umbreen’s wrinkled hand calmly. “You look like you’ve let go of a horrible burden.” Nani Umbreen squeezes the Doctor’s hand back.

“Yes, yeah! I guess so. I’ve laid inner demons to rest, now there’s people out there I need forgiveness from. I did something terrible Umbreen, it was a choice I didn’t want to keep making anymore.” The Doctor’s voice was calm, rejuvenated even. Nani Umbreen smiles warmly, looking out towards Yaz on the sofa. “I couldn’t forgive Manish for the longest time. He tore our family apart at the very beginning of the partition.” A harsh tear runs from Nani Umbreen’s eye.

“Did you ever see him again?” The Doctor asks cautiously. “No, but I’d like to think he was happy in his miserable land. That’s the best I could wish for the murderer.” Nani Umbreen looks back at the Doctor, “we’ve both laid demons to rest Doctor. The difference is Yasmin will forgive you. You are a good person. You come from a bloodline of good people. Keep going…” The Doctor hugs Nani Umbreen gently. Najia wanders in, seeing the warm embrace and seats herself calmly. Nani Umbreen senses her and speaks, “feel free to stay Doctor until Yasmin recovers…”

Graham hadn’t heard from Yaz since her visit yesterday. His worries were sparked by news reports of the Cylffside Care Home collapsing in a sink hole/earthquake/fracking disaster. Graham shook his head as he seated himself, flicking through a pile of leaflets on the coffee table. Most were generic charity ones, Help for Heroes, Yorkshire Air Ambulances, but one caught his eye… It was wrong, the paper had a rough texture in his hand. The logo looked oddly familiar too… It was a comic red heart with wires wrapped around it like a bow on a present. The name seemed odd too… WIRED HEARTS.

END