Until Forever Ends •| Doctor Who |•

Chapter One: Promise? ✔️

"Not all who are silent do not want to talk." ― Debasish Mridha

[Tardis]

High above the city of London, a big blue box tumbled across the night sky, spinning faster and faster. It flew over the Millennium Dome and the man dangling from the threshold, a strange pen-like device between his teeth, could be seen desperately trying to pull himself back inside. The box was heading straight for the Parliament Clock Tower, showing no sign of conveniently spinning out of the way, but the man pointed his strange pen device at the controls and the box changed course just in time. With a final heave, the man hauled himself back inside and shut the doors behind him, exhausted, as the box careered on its way.

[Bedroom]

A little red-haired girl sat watching her a darker haired, younger sister said her prayers at the edge of her bed.

"Dear Santa," the little sister started, the sweet lilt of Scottish brogue in her words. "Thank you for the dolls, and the pencils, and the paint. I know it's Easter now, s-so I hope I didn't wake you, but please, it is an e-mer-gen-cee," as she struggled through the big word, she cast a wary glance at her wall. "There's a crack in my wall," she whispered, shifting on her knees as they began to ache. "Aunty Sharon says it's just an ordinary crack, but I know it's not, because. . . because at night there's voices," her eyes squeezed shut, trying to convince herself that she couldn't hear the whispering starting up again. "Please, please, please, could you send someone to fix it? A fire-man, o-or a policeman, or-"

She stopped, interrupted by a strange wheezing sound outside, then a crash. The girl looked to her sister, who was already standing up and moving over to the window

"Back in a moment," the youngest girl whispered to Santa, grabbing a torch from her bedside table and hiding behind her sister as she peered out the window.

"W-what is it?" she asked timidly, handing the torch to the older girl.

"I don't know," the girl replied vaguely, shining a light into the garden. "Looks like. . . a box. In the shed."

The younger girl frowned to herself, nervously peering around her sister. She was right. In the old garden shed's place was now a big blue on its side, surrounded by steam and the remains of the old shed. Illuminated in bold text on its front, it said–

Police Public Call Box.

The little girl gasped, looking up at her smirking sister.

"Looks like you owe Santa a 'thank you'," the older girl said, before racing out of the room and thundering down the stairs.

After a moment's indecision, the little girl followed, but not before she paused and whispered to the empty room, "thank you."

[Garden]

Out in the garden, the little girl caught up with her sister, practically stepping on her heels in an attempt to stay as close to her as possible. Her sister rolled her eyes but allowed the comfort, slowing down as together they approach the smoking box, the younger girl a little more hesitant than her fiery sister.

They stopped, watching and waiting in an-tis-i-pay-shon for something to happen when bang! suddenly, the doors open outwards and a grappling hook flew out, narrowly missing them. Both girls jumped, the younger one latching on to the back of her sister's coat in fright.

There was a beat, and then a hand shot out grasped the ledge, and then another one and then, finally, out popped the soaking wet head of a man.

"Can I have an apple?" he asked, words breathy and tinged with exertion. "All I can think about. Apples. I love apples. Maybe I'm having a craving?" he asked excitedly. "That's new. Never had cravings before."