Two Ponds, A River, And A Rose {[Doctor Who Fanfic]}

14: Hilton's Prize

Quick a/n: thanks so much for reading guys it really means a lot to me! Also, I will try to update at least twice a week from now on, if not more. new cover credit to @masterofwriting please go look at her stuff!!!!

"The girl will tell what she has to say,

Before the sunrise on the May.

She hides and lies but soon will see

What consequences wait for thee,"

The man's voice floats out across the room without him opening his mouth. A small boy steps out from behind him, wearing a similar suit to the strange man.

"Master Hilton wishes the girl to speak." He says with a strong English accent. Trying to hide the shaking in my voice, I say sarcastically,

"Hello!" The man's expression doesn't change, but the child scowls and flicks his hand into the air. I suddenly find myself unable to breathe. I clutch at my throat as I fall to my knees, the Doctor asking me what's wrong, holding onto my upper arms.

"Leave her alone!" he shouts powerfully. My windpipe remains restricted, and I feel myself slowly losing consciousness. "She'll tell you whatever you want!" I still can't breathe. "She'll tell me whatever you want!" he tries again. The block in my throat leaves and I collapse on the ground coughing, trying to remember how to pull air into my lungs and push it out again.

"What. . ." I cough. "What do you want. . . me to say?"

"Master Hilton wishes for the girl to tell her secret." the boy says, monotone. I feel the blood rush from my face. I pretend to be confused, but of course I know what he means. Why he would care, though, is a mystery to me.

"The girl will not lie!" The boy shouts, face remaining expressionless. There's a sharp sting on the side of my face, almost as if someone had slapped me.

"Okay!" I shout. "Okay." I turn to the Doctor and take a deep breath. "I know how to fix you. I have for a while. . . But I just couldn't do it because that would mean I would lose you and I-" he cuts me off by kissing me hard on the mouth. When he pulls away, his hand on the side of my face, he looks angry, but somehow I know the anger is not directed at me. His gaze softens, just for a moment, before he marches toward the man and the boy, preparing for a rant. But as soon as he reaches the top of the stairs, the two disappear. Holograms. The Doctor throws his screwdriver at the wall where they'd been standing. His face is bright red, he's breathing heavily, and his eyes are closed.

"It's not over," he blurts, voice shaking. "They came here for something and they're going to get it." I'm silent, knowing that if I speak I'll set him off again. There's a few minutes of quiet before he asks me the question I've been dreading for weeks. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I couldn't-" I choke on my words and have to pause before continuing. "I would have to leave you, and I couldn't do that because first I would have to-" his hand is over my mouth in a heartbeat.

"Don't tell me. If you tell me I'll be obligated to try and fix it. If I don't know then I can pretend nothing's happening. Okay?" I nod, because his hand clamped over my face is restricting my ability to speak.

"Whoops!" A voice from behind us calls. I whirl around and the man, whose name I assume is Hilton, is standing only three feet behind me with four younger, stronger men. "You thought this was over!" he cries. I can see why he made the boy speak for him, and why he only thought the words to us the first time. His voice is a but ridiculous, and a lot insane. He sounds like he belongs in a combined prison and asylum. "Well guess what?" he says. "Boys," he motions toward me with his hands and the other men start to move toward me. The Doctor, naturally, pulls me behind him protectively, but it does no more good than than shoving me forward. They easily shove him aside and grab me by the wrists and shoulders. Hilton pulls a needle from his jacket pocket and holds it up threateningly. The Doctor is passed out on the floor and I know he's been given an anesthetic, the same thing that no doubt is about to administered to me. I close my eyes and feel the needle pierce my skin, the dull ache that means the plunger has been pressed, and then: Blackness.