L E G E N D S (A superwholock fanfiction)

Chapter 11-Itward

The captain pulls me through winding hallways, the dim lights making the trek challenging. "You know, where I'm from, this is not how you treat a lady," I huff. He ignores my question and suddenly stops in front of a dead end. "Open door seven," he barks out. "Open door seven," I mimic with a whine in my voice. The wall before us slides open, and the interior of a bedroom reveals itself. He pulls me inside, and I hear the familiar hiss of air as the door closes behind us. I scan the belongings in the room and see nothing but a simple bed with blank sheets and a single trunk in the far corner. "Have fun," I feel his grip vanish from my arm and I back away to see what he was doing. His back was turned to me, and he stood in front of the bare wall. "Open door seven," the door slides open and he steps out, leaving me alone in the room. I can make it. I see the door beginning to close behind him and I rush forward. He catches my movement in the corner of his eye and he quickly turns, placing his hand on the now closing door.

I only have enough time to fit my small wrist through the doorway before he thrusts the door and it comes down on my hand.

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The Doctor watches as Daisy is dragged through the door, and he lets out a frustrated grunt, trying to pull away from his captor. "Open trapdoor," the chubby man barks. Confused, the Doctor looks back and sees that the floor before him had opened, and a large pit stood in its place. "Have I ever told you that I'm actually claustro-" with a sudden shove, the man pushes the Doctor into the pit.

The Doctor lands on his side, a groan escaping his lips at the sharp pain. "That really wasn't necessary," he wheezes out. The man ignores the Doctor and reaches into his dirty coat, pulling out a white cube the size of his fist and throws it down into the dark hole. The Doctor catches it in his right hand and stares at it quizzically. "Well what am I supposed to use this for?" the Doctor whines. "Close trapdoor," the man grunts, and the floor above the Doctor slowly slides shut, entrapping the Doctor in darkness. The Doctor makes a sour face before gripping the cube tighter in his hand, wondering what to do with it. "You're supposed to shake it," the Doctor jumps at the strange voice. "Who's there?" the Doctor reaches into his pocket and fumbles around for his sonic screwdriver. "I have a sonic thingy. I'm not going to say what kind of sonic thingy it is because you'll laugh," the Doctor pulls out the screwdriver and points it in the direction of the cube in his hand. The screwdriver comes to life and blue light emerges from the end, along with the whirring sound he had grown so used to. A fluorescent light hatches from the cube and the room is illuminated. The Doctor squints his eyes at the change in lighting and lets his sonic screwdriver die down. "It's a screwdriver, you can't really do much except build a cupboard," the voice speaks again. The Doctor fixes his gaze in the direction of the voice and sees a hunched over figure in the dusty corner of the room. "How'd you know it was a screwdriver?" the Doctor suppresses his pout. The figure pops up, and the face of a man gazes at the Doctor, his eyes wide and curious. "Because Doctor," the man jumps to his feet. "I know you. I've been waiting for you. IN FACT, you've taken a while to get here!" the Doctor raises his eyebrow at the change in the man's volume. "You were the one who sent me the coordinates?" the Doctor questions. "Mhm," the man hums. "It's a very very very very very very very long long long story," the man grins. "Alright..." the Doctor places the cube on the floor and stands to his feet.

"WAIT," the man yells. "What?!" the Doctor exclaims, a troubled feeling setting in his gut about this strange man. "Where is she?" the man breaks into a sprint and runs around the small room, kicking up dust. "Who?" the Doctor feels the dust rise up his nose and covers his face with the sleeve of his coat.

"Daisy, of course!" the man looks at the Doctor with an impatient face. "How do you know Daisy?" the Doctor's guard goes up. "We're best mates actually," the man crosses his arms and rests his weight on one hip. "Where is she?" the man insists. "The Captain has her," the Doctor said bitterly. "Well, that wasn't part of the plan!" the man whines. "Well, lots of things haven't gone according to plan today, so welcome to the club!" the Doctor began to grow frustrated at this strange man. "How do you even know who I am?" the man rolls his eyes at the Doctors question. "No time, no time, no time, NO TIME!" the man yells. "We have to save Daisy!" the man lurches towards the Doctor and grips his coat. "So what's your plan?"

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I let out a scream as I feel the door crush my bones, and I pull my hand back into the room. The door completely closed and I crumbled to the floor, holding my wrist close to my chest. I bite down hard on my lip, trying to muffle my cries. My vision becomes clouded, and I feel the hot pressure of the tears in my eyes. I let them fall, the warm trail on my face giving me a small comfort. I let myself lie back onto the floor, refusing to use the bed in the corner. I won't give him the satisfaction. I groan and gently wrap my fingers around my wrist, letting what little warmth I had left absorb in my wrist. The cold from the floor seeps into my back, and I feel my bones start to ache. I'm getting old.

Eventually, I get up off the floor and use the bed to my advantage, taking the white bedsheet and ripping a thin strip off of it despite the growing pain in my wrist. With my working hand, I tried my best to tightly wrap the cloth around my now throbbing wrist. I tucked the end of the itchy sheet underneath the wrap and felt a little proud of myself. "At least I can say I've done one thing right," I murmur.

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The Doctor huffs in frustration as the door remains shut, and he lets his sonic screwdriver die down again. "I don't understand, the door should open," the Doctor runs a hand through his hair. "It's voice activated! I've been telling you for the past half hour!" the man whines. The Doctor sighs and slips the screwdriver back into his pocket. "You haven't told me who you are, or how you know Daisy," the Doctor persisted. "My name is....Itward," the man pipes up. "Itward?" the Doctor asks. "Is there something wrong with my name? Well look who's talking Doctor," the man shakes his head and his shaggy hair that was wrapped in a bandana shook wildly. "How long have you been here exactly?" the Doctor pipes up. "Who knows?" Itward shrugs. "Now, I think it's time to go," Itward walks to the other side of the room and pushed against the wall. "What are you-"

The part of the wall underneath Itwards' hands indented and he stepped back with a grin plastered across his face. "Doodly doodly doo," he spoke, and the floor above them began to slide open.