Lost In Time: A Doctor Who Fanfiction

Chapter 16 - Flatline, Part 2

"Welcome to my world, Doctor Clara," the Doctor said dryly. "So, what's next?" 

Clara took a deep breath. "Lie to them."

"What?"

"Lie to them. Give them hope. Tell them they're all going to be fine. Isn't that what you would do?"

"In a manner of speaking. It's true that people with hope tend to run faster, whereas people who think they're doomed..." the Doctor trailed off, exchanging glances with Lyssa.

"Dawdle. End up dead," Clara finished bluntly. 

"So that's what I sound like," the Doctor commented. Lyssa shrugged. In a sense, it was true. Sometimes you had to face the horrible truth to survive, and that meant no sugar-coating it. "Right, here's something that might help you. Do you remember the graffiti from the estate? Footprints, tire treads?"

"Vaguely," Clara said absently as the Ranger turned to her, muttering something about checking out the exits before moving off.

"Well, I don't think it was graffiti. I think that that was how those creatures saw us. The impressions we make in two dimensional space. That was them reaching out, attempting to talk. At which point they moved into flattening and dissection. Trying to understand. Trying to emulate. But here's the big question. Do they know they're hurting us?" the Doctor postulated.

"They're intelligent," Lyssa pointed out. "It shouldn't be hard to figure out that smooshing something that's not supposed to be smooshed can be harmful."

"Perhaps, but they clearly come from a very different place," the Doctor reminded her. "Maybe in their world it isn't harmful at all. You wouldn't think breathing is dangerous, you do it all the time. But there's an entire galaxy where one whiff of carbon dioxide would set the place alight. We need to find a way to communicate with them."

"Why can't the TARDIS just translate?" Clara asked unhappily.

"Because their idea of language is just as bizarre as their idea of space. Even the TARDIS is confused. And whatever they're doing is affecting the TARDIS. So even if she could come up with some sort of translator, we could well end up insulting them due to something being inaccurately translated. And then they might really want to kill us."

"Not like it would be the first time," Clara muttered.

Lyssa bit back a snicker, then gave up and laughed out loud at the Doctor's betrayed look.

"This is a bad idea. What makes this colleague of yours think those monsters even want to talk?" Fenton complained.

The Doctor rolled his eyes. "Oh, great. A real pudding brain we've picked up here. I know a race made of sentient gas who throw fireballs as a friendly wave. I know another race with sixty four stomachs who talk to each other by disemboweling."

"He's, ah, got a hunch," Clara told the others.

"My point being that in a universe as immense and bizarre as this one, you cannot be too quick to judge. Perhaps these creatures don't even understand that we need three dimensions to live in. They may not even know that they're hurting us," the Doctor explained.

"Do you really believe that?" Clara asked him bluntly.

"No. I really hope that. It would make a nice change, wouldn't it?" he said dryly. "Okay. Let's start with pi. Even in a flat world they would have circles. I don't mean edible pie, I mean circular pi. Which I realize would also mean edible pie but anyway." He spun around the console, pulling Lyssa with him as he inputted information and started sending out the signal. He glanced over when he caught Lyssa watching him. "What?"