The Doctor's Daughter

Chapter 20

I can't choose. Carl and I stare wordlessly at the needles, not even attempting to speak. If I die, what becomes of my family? I constantly put the doctor in danger that he shouldn't be in, situations that I force him to handle. My poor doctor. I have failed him again, and I have failed Carl again. Suddenly, Carl stands, seeming as if he has come to a desperate conclusion. He gazes blankly at the alien, and I see the strain and effort he is putting forth. The alien and him must be communicating independently.

Then the oddest thing happens; "Okay," the Grimm Reaper/Alien grins, clapping his blackened and burned hands together in excitement. "Carl and I have come to an agreement. I will let you all leave, including Carl, but you have an I-O-U card." He smirks. "I want pain for you, Ms. Emily. And I will get to watch you go through pain, but it won't be me. Not my fault! You shouldn't make deals with, as the saying goes, the devil."

Then, almost a second of agonizing pain shoots through me, and I'm suddenly in America. New York City. That's what the doctor just whispered, anyway. Blinking in mild surprise, I look to the doctor for reassurance, wondering if we are still in a screwed up situation. He goes back into the tardis, trying to start her up again without any luck. Amy goes into help, and Carl and I stand outside, staring into the wonderful blazing lights and gargantuan buildings.

An old, abandoned and extremely shabby hotel is near us, and Carl walks brusquely towards it. Reticently, I follow, knowing that he wants to talk to me privately. We enter, and immediately go to the lobby, sitting uncomfortably on the moldy chairs.

"I'm a fake." Carl says, breaking the silence with his hoarse voice. I look at him wonderingly, not understanding.
"My names not Carl, and I'm not.. who you think I am." His voice cracks, and I meet his eyes.
"That alien, that thing, I'm its slave. It told me to pretend to love you, to protect you and get close to you. Find your strengths and weaknesses. Then dig up stuff on the doctor, on you, and tell him. Exploit the real you, and trap you in a deadly situation. Watch you burn, kill you myself. Let you suffer, let the doctor watch. And I always was in contact with him, always knew. I lied to you, from that day we met in the hallway. It was a setup, I made those boys do that to you." He swallows, eyes tearing up.

"It wasn't part of the plan to actually fall in love with you, Emily. I fell hard, so hard. And the more I fell in love with you, an aching guiltiness itched on my heart. I drove you insane, that was me."

"That wasn't you, that was the alien." I say, my shaking voice unsure.

"You don't get it!" He runs his hands through his hair angrily.
"I am the voice. I said that all to you, but I'm not the alien. There never was an alien, it's a person. And he used alien technology to enhance your brain, to enhance mine. So I could say to you as I please, make you suffer more. And I drove you insane, let you think horrible things. You should be grateful that this is how you burn. This is me, lighting the fire right now. We were going to kill you, but I will reiterate clearly; I. Loved. You. It was dangerous and foolish of me, and this is me showing you." He continues.

"Go outside. The doctor is gone, I sent his tardis away. I kidnapped you, so for God's sake, just do what I say. Go stand in the street, please, and call my phone. I can't tell you the next part face to face." His tone is painful, and I see him close his eyes. I clasp my phone in my pocket, and my lip quivers.

"Then let me ask one question." I say, and hope to drive some emotion out of him. I am dangerous as well, and he basically just told me his weakness.
He nods, looking at me with a cold hatred that chills me to the bone.

"I get it. You lied to me, practically hated me, fell in love, and your still trying to burn me. The only question I can ask that you will probably answer correctly is this; what's your real name?" A tear solemnly falls from my face, splashing onto my hand curled into a fist in my lap. He laughs, a genuine laugh, which slowly turns into a broken hearted one. Like he wants so bad to let me leave, send me into a blissful life.