The inside of a prison cell was something you never expected to see, especially when it was the inside of an alien prison cell on a planet a million lightyears from Earth. How you'd gotten there, you weren't so sure, and even if you had been sure, you'd struggle to believe it.
It had been pretty much like the movies; you'd been woken up at about 3:00am - the curtains were pulled but they may as well not have been as a light as bright as the sustained flash of a bomb shot through them. Stumbling blindly from your bed, you'd yanked open the window to see what the source was, and then something had happened. You weren't sure what, but it had rendered you both temporarily blind and unconscious.
When you finally woke up, you were in a space ship. The first clue was the jarring hum that encapsulated the small room you were in; it matched the vibrating of the floor that made you feel grimly nauseous. Then, when you found the strength to stand and could look out the window, all you could see was the vast expanse of space, shooting by at speeds the likes of which you didn't think was possible.
The third clue was the aliens. After what felt like hours, two robot... things, had dragged you kicking and screaming from the ship and onto a planet, the surface of which you barely got to see before you were plummeting beneath the ground and into a place that looked much like the ship, only colder, and there were no windows.
For a while - more than a week but less than two to be as exact as you could - the robots had stuck wires on your head and tried to do what they called cyber-conversion. But it clearly didn't work; every time they tried to attach on of their helmets to your face, it cracked, rupturing their machines. That was why, one day, they didn't come for you. One of them mentioned something about you being a trap, but you didn't understand.
From that moment on, they'd left you alone in the cell with a single cup of water. That was three days ago. You'd been slowly refilling it from a leaking pipe. It tasted like water and looked clean enough... You weren't in a position to be picky.
You'd not quite given up hope of rescue the day the police call box appeared. You were sitting in the corner of your cell where the chains around your wrists let you sit without them pulling. You hadn't changed out of your pyjamas and the robots clearly didn't have any knowledge of human hygiene, let alone bodily functions, which made you feel all the more awful. But your one saving grace was a loose nail that you'd found in the cell. You were no miracle worker; you'd tried to pick the lock on the chains but to no avail. However, you could use it to scratch at the wall. Like a caveman, you'd been drawing to keep yourself company.
You were just adding the final details to a portrait, when a strange whirring sound seemingly came from nowhere, drowning out your humming. You dropped the nail in fright as the source of the noise was revealed and a blue box appeared. It settled with a ding, and you shuffled back against the wall, bringing your knees to your chest as the door opened.
A man stuck his head out. He was comical looking, and as he took a large, exaggerated step out of the box, you watched his hair bounce over his eyes. He was wearing a tweed suit and red bowtie; his trousers seemed to short for his legs and shoes too big for his feet. He wasn't looking in your direction, and you didn't know what to do or say.
The man pulled a small metal stick from the lining of his jacket, holding it out in front of him as he slowly spun in place, and when his eyes settled on you, the raggedy man paused, pocketing his weapon. "Hello," he smiled kindly, hitching his trousers and crouching down as he noticed your wide eyes. "I'm the Doctor. Are you alright?"
You nodded your head meekly, then shook it. Might as well be truthful. You were strangely comforted by the presence of this stranger. A tear rolled down your cheek, one that he duly noted. You sensed an anger from him, like he was so worried for your wellbeing, that to find you in this state personally triggered him. Considering the two of you had never met before, it took you by surprise.
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The Imagination Latibule: Doctor Who - Something Borrowed
FanfictionFem reader x Doctor Who (11th Doctor - Matt Smith) Rescued from a Cyberman experiment gone wrong, you go travelling across the universe with the mysterious Doctor, and find yourself falling hopelessly in love with the adventures, and with him Sort o...