Rising From The Ashes (Book Five of the Bad Wolf Chronicles)

A Christmas Carol

I love this story in general, so to see the Doctor do a take on this was just incredible. I love Kazran's story, and even though it was not the best photoshop I've ever done, I think it looks pretty good. :)

In this chapter, just how well does the Doctor do when Jessie's not at his side to calm him down? And what will happen to Abigail in the end since Jessie's an Asgardian?

Enjoy "A Christmas Carol!"

***

The Doctor fell down the chimney and landed with a crash, soot flying everywhere. He shook his head. "Ah, yes, blimey!" he grinned at the mass of people inside the living room. "Sorry, Christmas Eve, on a rooftop, saw a chimney, my whole brain just went 'what the hell!'" He was babbling again, and he knew it. But he couldn't help it. Jessie had insisted on staying on the starliner to help with panic . . . and that added to his panic. He didn't like her being so far from him, and he didn't like thinking about her dying, either. That meant he died, too. Well, didn't that just add adrenaline to things? And an added boost of squeaky bum time. "Don't worry, fat fellow will be doing the rounds later," he added, brushing himself off and walking over. "I'm just scooping out the general chimney-ness. Yes, nice size, good traction, big tick."

"Fat fellow?" one of the men echoed.

"Father Christmas," the Doctor nodded. "Santa Claus. Or, as I've always known him, Jeff."

The little boy eyed him. "There's no such person as Father Christmas."

"Oh, yeah?" The Doctor whipped out a black and white photograph. "Me, Jez, and Father Christmas, Frank Sinatra's hunting lodge, 1952. See him at the back with the blonde? Albert Einstein. The four of us together? Brrm. Watch out. OK? Keep the faith. Stay off the naughty list."

The Doctor turned to the organ-like device in the corner. "Ooo," he grinned. "Now, what's this, then? I love this! A big flashy lighty thing. That's what brought me here. Big flashy lighty things hae got me written all over them. Not actually, but give me time, and a crayon."

"No more crayons for you," Jessie warned.

"Well, maybe not a crayon," he admitted. "But this big flashy lighty thing is connected to the spire in your dome, yeah? And it controls the sky. Well, technically, it controls the clouds, which technically aren't clouds at all. Well, they're clouds of tiny particles of ice. Ice clouds. Love that." He then inspected the cryochamber the family was by. "Who's she?" he asked, looking at the young woman inside.

"Nobody important," the old man, Kazran Sardick, answered.

"Nobody important?" the Doctor repeated. "Blimey, that's amazing. Do you know, in nine hundred years of time and space, I've never met anyone who wasn't important before." He went back to the device. "Now, this console is the key to saving that ship, or I'll eat my hat . . . if I had a hat. I'll eat someone's hat. Not someone who's using their hat. I don't want to shock a nun, or something."

"Breathe, Doctor," Jessie soothed. "We're just fine."

"Sorry," he shook his head, ready to punch the controls angrily. "Rambling, because this isn't working!"

"The controls are isomorphic," Kazran said, shaking his head and walking over. "One to one. They respond only to me."

"Oh, you fibber," the Doctor snorted. "Isomorphic. There's no such thing." Kazran just turned the machine off, then on again. The Doctor glared and finally did a scan with the sonic screwdriver, then shook his head at the result. "These controls are isomorphic."

"The skies of this entire world are mine," Kazran said smugly. "My family tamed them, and now I own them."

"Tamed the sky? What does that mean?"