Time and Earth: A Doctor Who and PJO Crossover (Bk 1)

Chapter 4: Oncoming Storm

Chapter 4: Oncoming Storm

"So, nothing? Nothing has happened at all?" Will asked in disbelief at lunch a week later.

We were in our usual spot; by the trees beside the asphalt where kids played sports. Both of us not being sporty kids but not wanting to spend all of our days in the library, one particular rust spotted bench had become our headquarters. It also provided a spectacular view of all the kids who did play sport, Daniel being one of them.

"Were you expecting anything to happen?" I asked, crossing my legs atop the bench.

Will gaped at me, "Of course! Anyone with eyes can see he's got the hots for you."

I almost spewed out the apple I'd been eating. The thought of such a thing was ludicrous, playing out in my head with the same tang as the Granny Smith. I didn't respond, opting to take another bite.

My eyes began to slide back to Daniel, who was stationary in the middle of the field, unusual for a sportsman of his caliber. He looked exactly like he did when he left my house last night, and all the nights we'd had this assignment. He wrung his hands and ran them through his hair, each strand plotting back into their original position.

Even weirder, he was still wearing his jumper today, despite the sun. Daniel was the only kid playing who'd kept it on. His mind was far from the asphalt plains of Coal Hill.

A force ripped him back to reality, and he looked straight to me. Whatever his gaze said, whatever emotion or thought he portrayed, I'd never know, but he returned to play within seconds, my apple lying in my lap on the fringes of memory.

I remained staring at the spot where he'd stood seconds after he'd left, until Will nudged my shoulder, "You two are insufferable. I would have taken him for myself by now."

"It's been a week, Will."

"Week, minute, day. Time is relative."

I stared back out at the game. The soccer kids were weaved in and out of each other like the different threads in conversation. Kids were screaming for whoever had the ball to pass it to them. Not Daniel, because either he had the ball, or he was watching the play, defending.

The ball had returned to Daniel's ankles, and he set off for the goals with a vengeance.

"See," Will nudged, gaining my attention, "he saw you and now he's trying extra hard."

In the time it took for me to look to Will and at the match again, Daniel tripped over his feet, the ball stolen by the opposition. At the end of the field, the three idiots which claimed to be his friends guffawed at the golden boy losing his footing. A growl bubbled in the curve of my throat. I hadn't told him what I thought of his friends, knowing he wouldn't take my advice to heart.

"I'm worried about him actually."

The words, finally birthed into the world, was a release unlike any I'd known. Ahead, Daniel shrugged off his loss of footing and continued playing, his usual charisma returning.

Will scrunched his eyebrows in confusion, "What for?"

"Whenever he has to leave, he gets so worried about something he won't say. And he's never offered to study at his."

Will lifted his own legs onto the bench, eyebrows crunching further. He knew how much experience I had in this department."You're studying today?"

I nodded, "The presentation is tomorrow."

"Tell him that Dorothy won't be at home because of work, and she isn't comfortable with you two being home alone."

It wasn't as if it hadn't happened before. Many times, Dorothy's work had kept her held back for hours on end. As a result, I knew Will's dad as well as he knew my guardian.

Nevertheless, it was a plan and one that had a chance of working. From then on, I'd see what was, if anything, was troubling Daniel.

The school bell rung, and I hugged Will before we ran off to our separate classes.

~~~

"My mum won't be home until late after work," I blurted halfway through English. It was my nth time trying to spit out the words, after so many failed attempts of nearly choking on my own breath. The abruptness of them tore Daniel away from his work.

Behind us, the trio of Daniel's friends watched with incredible levels of surveillance, male gazes ironing our uniforms.

Here, our conversation was so much more filtered, even my thirteen-year-old-self recognized it. That was just how things were. Had we been at my place, Daniel would have turned with an awareness that was borderline inhuman, here, it was muted, tired.

"She said she wasn't really comfortable with us being home alone, so if you still wanted to study-"

"My dad wouldn't like it."

His shoulders were hunched, his spine curved. Lips in a straight line and knuckles frozen over ebony keys. But what got me was his voice. Unrelenting and blunt. And as much as I knew to respect his privacy, the unknown behind his house's walls, the endless possibilities...

"Are you sure? The presentation is in two days."

Daniel started speaking halfway through the end of the last syllable, his resolve on the issue growing in both strength and volume. "My dad wouldn't like it."

This time, it was enough to grant Ms. Oswald's attention, marking papers on her desk ahead of us. Brown eyes met mine, and her groomed brows raised in a question. I nodded imperceptibly, a silent covenant passing between us, and I returned to my work, keeping conversation mild for the remainder of the lesson.

When everyone had left, bursting out of the door within moments of the bell, I took my time packing up my things. Daniel had been the first to escape, elbowing his way out as if the room had lost its oxygen. It was no effort at all to let the guilt simmer again.

Ms. Oswald sat with one leg crossed over the over, and with her hair pulled into a low ponytail and monochrome tea dress, she was hell dressed quaintly.

"I'm worried about Daniel," I stated as I grabbed my bag, each step towards her desk a beat of an executioner's drum.

This was invasive, I knew, if it had been me I would never have talked to the traitor again. But if it meant that Daniel would be better off, safer, I'd go through with it. It wasn't like there was a chance we'd ever be friends anyway.

"Understatement of the year," Ms. Oswald sighed, closing her large folder containing her students' grades, "Lately his pieces have been getting grimmer. Though their quality is another question."

This was to protect him, I reminded myself, this was in his best interests.

Outside, the muffled clouds which had gathered all day began to slowly unleash themselves on the earth at last. A fitting soundtrack for what I was about to do.

"What are you worried about specifically?" she asked, her voice like tea and a fire on a winter's night. The same voice she'd used when I'd recounted my story to her when she'd helped me make it appropriate for the class to hear.

"Daniel and I have been studying for the presentation after school," I began, earning an enigmatic grin from my teacher, "but whenever he leaves he gets really anxious about his dad. I'm not sure why, something about being late, I guess. But I get a really bad vibe."

The last part was what I knew would be the last straw for her. When I'd told her about my encounter with the Doctor, I'd kept most things true. Except for the anchor in my gut; that I replaced with the word 'vibe.' Dorothy said it was probably best to keep it secret.

Ms. Oswald's face hardened, transforming from a summer night's breeze to the granite face of an old god. Perhaps my testimony had been the last piece of the puzzle. "Thank you for telling me, Lucy. I'll see what I can do."

I smiled, already walking towards the door, eager to leave the scene of the crime. Relief and guilt swirled in my being like milk and fruit juice, lightning striking in my wooden abdomen, setting it aflame. I'd either saved Daniel Kane or damned us both.

"Thanks, Ms. Oswald. See you tomorrow."

"Good luck with your presentation."