Every Christmas
Chapter Three
The Doctor was rummaging through a pile of books, looking for something. But he wasn’t sure what.
“It’s round. It’s dangerous.” The Doctor snapped his fingers, trying to figure out what he was searching for, but he couldn't think straight. He stood up, his head dizzy.
"Stupid post regeneration..." Something in the Doctor's brain clicked. Like a piece of a puzzle just got in place. "Timelord..."
He didn't have time to finish his thought as Clara burst into the room shouting. "What happened?"
She looked at the mess of books on the floor before asking the Doctor. “What are you doing?”
“I was looking for something.” He decided that the pile of books was not hiding what he was looking for and moved on to a desk; opening all the drawers underneath it.
“Yes, I can see that.” Clara stated. “But what are you looking for? And didn’t you run off to look at your new face?”
The Doctor turned around. “How far away was the Weeping Angel?”
Clara stammered. “Uh. What?’
The Doctor grabbed a pillow from the nearby bed and started swinging it around whilst bouncing on the bed. “I like this pillow, I think I’ll keep it.” He jumped off and ran out the door.
****
Emily stood there. Staring at the angel. Something about it reminded her of her childhood. But the memory was too fuzzy, it almost felt like a dream. But she knew it wasn’t. She knew it was real. And the teenager in her house had something to do with it.
She couldn’t remember much. All she could recall was her as a child, being confronted by a blue police box. And an angel that was following her.
Suddenly, a voice from behind broke her train of thought. “Looks interesting, doesn’t it?”
She turned around to face the Doctor. He was around the same height, despite looking a couple years younger than her. Although, she was never considered “tall”.
His eyes averted her gaze to stare at the angel. He then walked over to the mirror and knocked it over using the pillow.
“Wait, isn’t it going to kill us?” Emily asked.
“Let’s hope not.” The Doctor replied. “Now, if you could turn around so I could test something.”
Emily wasn’t about to risk her life just because some teenager told her to.
“Quick question, can you see the angel?”
Emily realised that her focus had been on the Doctor the entire time, not the angel. She covered her mouth. “Oh my god. Are you going to die?”
The Doctor smiled. “Guess not.” He placed the mirror upright, facing the Weeping Angel. “So, good news is that this thing,” He crossed his arms and leaned against the angel. “Is completely harmless. Mostly.”
Emily breathed a sigh of relief and walked towards the kitchen, which was conveniently placed right next to the living room. “Ok, what’s the bad news?”
“If this mirror is ever removed, it’s going to follow you. And that’s really creepy."
“Oh, well that’s not so bad.”
The Doctor laid down on the couch, facing the ceiling. “Yeah just make sure you don’t have anyone over.” He looked around the room. “Say, where’s your brother Sam?”
Emily looked at the Doctor then asked. “How do you know his name?”
“I was flipping through your journal.” The Doctor stated matter of factly.
“YOU WHAT?” She shouted.
“Shush.” The Doctor just laid there, thinking.
There’s only one reason anyone would have to make a fake Weeping Angel, and that’s to create a diversion, he thought.
He suddenly spoke. “Have you found any items of interest lately?”
“Uh, no.” Emily replied.
“What about Sam?”
Emily shrugged. “Dunno.”
“SAM!” The Doctor’s voice echoed throughout the house. But no one replied. He stood up and shouted again, this time for Clara. “Clara!”
No reply.
“Ok, that’s creepy.” Emily stated.
The Doctor started walking to the bedroom where he left Clara. Emily was trembling in fear, but curious so she trailed behind.
“Clara?” The Doctor called again. Still no reply. He entered the room to see Clara standing there. Perfectly still.
“Why is she just standing there?” Emily whispered. “It’s creepy.”
The Doctor walked over to Clara and put his hand on her shoulder. Immediately, she spun around, looking at the Doctor as his eyes filled with horror. He heard Emily’s gasp, his two hearts pounded fiercely.
In front of him, was Clara Oswald, the impossible girl. And sticking out of her forehead was... a Dalek eyestalk.
He couldn’t bear to look. His eyes followed her arms down and gazed upon the object she was holding. In her hand, was a golden fob watch.
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