Eleven's Soulmate (An Eleventh Doctor and OC story)

Thirty Seven

"I'VE done it!" 

The first good thing an incredibly stressed Pippa heard that day was the young boy, Elliot. In his two hands he held a detailed, coloured map. She grinned, and took it gently from his hands as the Doctor walked through the doors with Ambrose. The latter, she noted, looked rather on edge.

"Look at that" she began, scanning over the boy's handiwork. "Brilliant. See, nothing you need to worry about. Dyslexia didn't stop Einstein or Da Vinci, and it certainly isn't going to be stopping you" she praised. The Doctor took the map form her hands and hummed.

"She's right. Look at you go. Perfect" he added. Elliot looked up between the two of them and tilted his head. "I don't understand what you're going to do" he spoke, and the Doctor took his sonic screwdriver out of his pocket.

"Two phase plan" he began. "First, the sensors and cameras will tell us when something arrives. Second, if something does arrive, I use this to send a sonic impulse through that network of devices" he tossed the sonic into the air, catching it almost expertly in his hand. Pippa clicked her tongue. "A pulse which would temporarily incapacitate most things in the universe"

"Knock 'em out. Cool" Elliot grinned. Having caught sight of Rory outside in the graveyard, Pippa excused herself quietly and walked away from the pair of children (and though he certainly did not look like one, Pippa had learnt first hand that looks can be deceiving. The Doctor most certainly behaved younger than he was).

Rory looked distracted. He'd focus, pause, and sigh, and seemingly in that very order. Tasked with completing the sensor array, he seemed to be struggling-in more ways than one she deduced. 

She swallowed, watching his internal struggle, his attempts to stay above the water. Amy wasn't here. She was underground, and she honestly had no idea if they could get her back. All they had was the time travelling man-child, and whilst he had proved himself to be capable thus far, there was no telling of when and where that streak of success would stop.

She also knew she had to stop spending so much time up in her head.

"Rory?" she called out, forcing her feet forward towards him. "How're you doing?" she asked, to which Rory shrugged and made incomprehensible noises. She raised an eyebrow but made no comment on it. "Need some help?" she offered. He merely nodded.

The two set to work in relative silence. The words Pippa so desperately wanted to say hung in the air, slowly drifting away like a boat to sea. Nothing she could do, but desperately clawing for something to say.

I'm sorry. I should have done more. I should have known she was there, but we're going to save her. It'll be okay. 

"You know we'll get her back, right?" is what she said instead, and she chewed the inside of her cheek and cringed when he stopped looking. It was Rory's turn to swallow then, and he exhaled shakily. He nodded, not quite believing her words. She wasn't sure she believed them either.

It was then she looked up into the sky with a frown. Surely, she hadn't been outside for long? Not even twenty minutes? Yet, when she looked up into the sky, she was met not with the clear blue, but with the mixed hues of red and yellow. The evening had arrived already.

"Do you trust him?"

Pippa looked down, meeting Rory's gaze. "Trust who?" she asked, to which the man sent her a withering look. She shrugged. "Hasn't exactly given me a reason not to I suppose" 

"Except for the part where he's an alien from space, an ancient alien, I should mention. The fact that he whisked you and Amy off into that Box and you've been going on adventures and meeting other aliens. I just-" he paused. "I just don't think we know him as well as you both seem to think. What if we can't save her? What if-what if she-"