Emerald Green

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Emerald Green

Chapter Thirty-Two

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"No, no, no..." she whispered, fighting with the handle. She pressed her palms against the door and tried to ignore the heat radiating off of it. "TARDIS. Please. Open the door. I really don't want to burn." Again she tried, and again the door didn't move. "I'll die in here! Please!" Still there was no movement.

Molly thought she'd be crying, though the heat was so intense the tears may have evaporated before she could feel them. She looked at her skin, already easily marked and turned pink, and saw it turning red and blistering in some places. The pain made her gasp. This was worse than the wildfire. Worse by far.

How long had she been in there? A few seconds? A minute? Two? How many more seconds before she burned to nothing?

Then she heard it: footsteps. Quick, heavy. Eleven.

She didn't really have a choice.

Molly looked through the window, and began to bang on the door, first with her fists, and then with her uncovered foot, knowing her kicks would be louder. "I'm in here! Get me out! I'm trapped!" she screamed. "Eleven! I'm in here! Please!" She still didn't see him, but heard him getting closer. "I'm trapped in here, get me out!"

She finally saw a flash of him, the purple suit, the hair – but only for a second before he ran right by her. No, no, no! "Come back! Come back! I'm trapped in here! ELEVEN!" That was it. That was her last hope. He'd come, he'd gone, and now she would die, painfully.

She wanted to rest her head on the window and cry, but it would only burn her more, and she wasn't able to cry. It was too hot. So very, very hot.

But then she saw movement outside the window again. The bowtie, his hair, then his green eyes. A look of panic came over his features as he reached into his pocket. She saw him pull out the sonic, and stepped back so he could get the door open. As soon as it swung open, he reached in and grabbed her wrists, and pulled her out of the room.

The cool air was like a bath of aloe vera, and the instant relief made her knees go weak. He wrapped his arms around her before she could fall. "Molly!" he exclaimed. "Molly, what were you thinking? You must have felt the heat the moment you got the door open!"

She inhaled sharply, again and again, to fill her burned lungs with the cold oxygen. Though there was no smoke in the room, it felt like her throat was filled with it. She tried to speak, but could only cough. She pressed her head against his shoulder. Cotton. Mint. Earth. Honey. He smelled the same as her Doctor.

When she was steady on her feet, he pulled back some, still holding her shoulders. "You could have died in there! Would it have been worth it? What was the point of this?" He tried to meet her eyes, but she refused to look in his. They were so exactly like her Doctor's. "Are you okay? The burns don't look too bad, but they must hurt."

Molly still felt vaguely like she was burning. She took another deep breath of air, and pressed her hands against his chest, pushing him away gently so he would release her shoulders. "I'm okay," she said, though her voice sounded harsh with the ache in her throat. "Thanks for getting me out of there."

"Of course I got you out. I wouldn't leave you to burn. I promise, I'm just like him. I am him," he insisted.

She looked at his face for a moment, how earnest his expression was. She nodded. "Well," she said. "Anyway." And she turned and ran.