Prayers to Broken Stone ((The Meddler VI/Allison Castiel))

[Rob "the Meddler" Goodfellow]

"Hack Wotan's systems..." Rob echoed, voice suddenly thoughtful. He leaned back against the wall, chin in hand as he chased a sudden hint of a memory.

"That's all well and good," Danny said, "but we need weapons. Did you see anything that..."

"Me wallet!" Rob suddenly announced brightly, springing upright and digging into the rags and tatters of the black suit he wore.

"...what?" Danny stared at him, then looked at Allie. "His wallet's a weapon?"

"Nah," Rob assured him, "that'd be ridiculous, that would. It's a key!"

"And now you've lost me again," Danny sighed. "Just when I think you're starting to make sense, you... what are you doing?"

Rob was now on his hands and knees, the small black box in one hand and the cable for the public addrsss system in the other. Looking carefully, he fit the cable back into the socket. "Wotan?" he called. "Wotan, ya barmy pistol, I've a bit of a bargain for you I do! You hear me?"

There was silence for a moment. "What is your offer, Doctor Who?"

"I can get you outta here with us, I can," Rob declared, waving the black box in the air. "See this thing? Me wallet? I can get you out in this?"

"In your wallet?" The computer's voice was skeptical. "How would that work?"

"It's got..." He thought hard, chasing the memories, "well, how large are your cognative systems and databases? Can't be too big, if'n yer runnin' off reelto-reel..."

"My core personality and memory requires ten petabytes of memory," WOTAN responded. "It required less when I was first compiled, but I have become more complex over time."

Rob sighed in relief. "Oh, good. Yeah, I can put you on me wallet, I can. In exchange, though..."

"In exchange?" WOTAN asked.

"You work with us. Partners, none o' this 'I require slaves' or that "Doctor Who is required' nonsense." He wiggled the box. "You sit in here, an' you help us fix things, an' you get to live.

WOTAN went silent, for a long minute. "I agree. With the stipulation that this agreement exists only if you are capable of fully downloading and running me."

"Great!" Rob clapped his hands as he popped up. "What say you..."

"You can't be serious!" Danny looked appalled. "You're going to help that, that... thing!"

Rob shrugged. "Why not? He want to live, too."

"It [ienslaved[/i] us! Tried to kill us!"

"An' you lot murdered your whole world," Rob replied, heading for the door. "Shattered your ecosystem beyond repair, an' doomed th' whole planet." He stopped and looked Danny in the eye. "What makes you so much more deserving of life?" Danny spluttered, and Rob turned towards the door once more. "I'll tell you what, since you can't. You're alive, an' you're willin' to try an' make things better. So's Wotan, now." He grinned back as he stepped out into the main room. "Everyone lives, Danny-boy. I've killed more'n enough in me day. Everyone lives. Now make youreself useful an' grab anythin' interesting looking while I download our new best mate."

[Allison Castiel]

"Me wallet!" Rob suddenly announced brightly, springing upright and digging into the rags and tatters of the black suit he wore.

"...what?" Danny stared at him, then looked at Allie. "His wallet's a weapon?"

Allie shrugged, equally bewildered. She had no idea where Rob's thought processes were taking him. However, she was getting used to that by now. He was brilliant, but erratic, just like the Doctor. Which made a lot of sense, she supposed, if he was the Doctor.

"Nah," Rob assured him, "that'd be ridiculous, that would. It's a key!"

She didn't follow that any more than Danny did. But she grew more and more nervous as he started to bargain with WOTAN. Having had the song of the gigantic computer inside her head, it was almost impossible for her to imagine trusting it, or even working with it to achieve a common goal.

Danny, having been in the same position, clearly felt the same way.

"You can't be serious!" Danny looked appalled. "You're going to help that, that... thing!"

Rob shrugged. "Why not? He wants to live, too."

“B-but... it's a computer,” Allie ventured. “It isn't alive at all... is it?”

Her voice trailed away uncertainly at the end of the question. After all, WOTAN gave every evidence of being sentient. There was no-one left here to program him or to keep his systems running. He had to be doing that himself, which required a certain amount of autonomous cognitive ability. Perhaps that really was the definition of life – being able to think. If that was the case, WOTAN was ironically more alive than some humans she had known, back in the old days.

"It enslaved us! Tried to kill us!" Danny continued to protest.

"An' you lot murdered your whole world," Rob replied, heading for the door. "Shattered your ecosystem beyond repair, an' doomed th' whole planet." He stopped and looked Danny in the eye. "What makes you so much more deserving of life?"

Allison bit her lip at the harsh words. “We didn't,” she told herself sadly, suddenly too tired and dispirited even to voice the thought aloud. “Danny and I... we aren't responsible for any of this... we're just the ones who are trying to fix it.”

Danny spluttered, and Rob turned towards the door once more. "I'll tell you what, since you can't. You're alive, an' you're willin' to try an' make things better. So's Wotan, now." He grinned back as he stepped out into the main room. "Everyone lives, Danny-boy. I've killed more'n enough in me day. Everyone lives. Now make youreself useful an' grab anythin' interesting looking while I download our new best mate."

Rob hadn't given her any specific instructions, but she assumed that his last injunction was directed at her too. Which was why, giving Danny a rueful glance, she moved past him and followed Rob out into the main room. Her friend gave a muttered curse, then also emerged, a resigned expression on his weather-beaten face.

Working methodically, with the wordless and instinctive teamwork built up from years of scavenging together, they began to sort through the array of detritus scattered throughout the room, trying to find anything that would be of use.

---

[OOC:  Clacice will pass this turn, she's just plotting and planning in her TARDIS, like a spider in her web ]

[Rob "the Meddler" Goodfellow]

It took half an hour, most of which was spent with Rob trying to figure out how to adapt a network connection to his - for lack of a better word - wallet. And then waiting for the computer to transfer a copy of itself into the device. Finally, though...

"It is done," WOTAN announced, both from the mainframe structure and the small black box. "The transfer is complete."

Rob, who had been sitting in a cracked office chair with his feet on a terminal, sat up. "Brilliant! How do you feel, mate?"

"There is ample capacity for my personality and memory in this device, Doctor Who."

Rob shook his head. "Just Rob, thank you. I ain't fully sure I'm this 'Doctor', so let's just go with the name I'm using right now." He weighed the data block in his hand, then looked at the mainframe. "You... you know that it's just a copy of you here, right? You're still..."

"I am a program," WOTAN interrupted, voice still coming from both machines. "We will diverge in time, but I possess little of the existential angst organics have about continuity. As long as an instance of me survives, I am content."

Shrugging, Rob disconnected the cables and stuffed the black box back into his tattered coat. "Well, so long as you're happy..." Waving at the mainframe, he slouched out into the main chamber to find Danny and Allie and a small mound of junk. "And what have we here?"

"I haven't the slightest idea," Danny replied. "It's... well, I just grabbed whatever."

Crossing the room, Rob began snatching liners from the wastebaskets. "Good enough. Let's toss it all in here and get going. No sense in hanging about, we're burning daylight we are. Oh, and anyone know of any good places to scavenge some clothes? These are, to be honest, a bit drafty."

[Allison Castiel]

In the end, Allie had just collected anything that looked remotely technical. Bits and pieces of broken machinery; nameless devices, with purposes she couldn't even begin to guess at; things that looking like tools, but could have been anything, for all she knew. And a smattering of books, most of them in strange languages she couldn't read, but which maybe Rob would find useful.

She tugged a large black leather-bound volume off a high shelf. Undoing the metal clasps, she flipped it open. It looked very old and was entitled 'The Necronomicon', which sounded vaguely familiar, but she couldn't remember why. Within the covers, it was written in glyph-form, and illustrated with pictures of terrifying monsters. Most Time Lords would have recognised the script as Eocene, better known as Silurian – but to Allie, it was nothing more than indecipherable scrawl.

With a sigh, she tossed it on to the steadily-growing pile. Probably better to be safe than sorry. That was one hard and inescapable truth she had learned as a scavenger. There was never any going back. If you left it behind, it stayed behind, and there was no use bemoaning the fact later, when you suddenly thought of a use for it. You had to hit a target hard and fast, collect what you could, and get out before anyone realised you were there. Going back was only asking to get ambushed.

Danny turned towards her, holding a pair of red high-heeled shoes he had found on another shelf, a comically quizzical look on his face. “I thought this was supposed to be a top-secret depository for alien tech. Do these look like alien tech to you?”

“How would I know, Danny?” she responded, a bit tetchily. She was hungry, tired and thirsty, and she'd hardly had a chance to draw breath since they'd first discovered Rob in the centre of London the day before. Her head ached and her feet hurt. And from what the Time Lord had said, they still had a long way to go, all the way to Surrey, so she wasn't expecting to get a rest any time soon. “Perhaps on some planets, they make their weapons look like shoes.”

Danny snorted. “Yeah, in the Land of Oz, maybe.” He threw the shoes disdainfully aside. They hit the far wall with a soft thump and fell into a pile of discarded rubbish. “Wonder how Wonder Boy's getting on with that bloody computer?”

“I don't know that, either.” She sighed and plonked a large vial of electric-blue liquid on their 'keep me' pile. It looked important, but she had no way of judging if it really was.

She'd no sooner spoken, however, when Rob emerged from the other room. He must be tired too, she thought. He hadn't had any sleep, or anything to eat. And the water Jem had given him, he had passed on to Allie to drink. Yet, he still seemed as full of energy as he had when they first saw him, running away from the Los Niños like a man possessed. His eyes were bright and alert, as he surveyed the motley pile of goods they had amassed.

"And what have we here?"

"I haven't the slightest idea," Danny replied. "It's... well, I just grabbed whatever."

"Me too,” Allie agreed. “Most of it seems broken, some of it on purpose, I'd say. Not that I'm any tech expert. But it looks like someone's trashed the place - quite a while ago, probably, from the dust that's spread everywhere. So we just tried to figure out what might be most useful.”

Crossing the room, Rob began snatching liners from the wastebaskets. "Good enough. Let's toss it all in here and get going. No sense in hanging about, we're burning daylight we are.”

Allie couldn't help wondering what time it was. From the way her stomach was growling, it had to be quite late. Which meant they'd be travelling through the night, a far from pleasant prospect. With a bit of a shiver, she tried to concentrate on packing the bags, using the activity to keep her fear at bay.

“Oh, and anyone know of any good places to scavenge some clothes? These are, to be honest, a bit drafty."

Allie nearly succumbed to an imp of mischief, and suggested that Rob should try on the red high heels, but she managed to stifle it at the last moment. Joking around wasn't going to get them on the road any faster. Besides, she thought wryly, knowing Rob, he might actually do it.

“There's a lab coat hanging in the corner over there,” she replied, straightening up and pointing towards the long, white jacket dangling from a hook. Allie had examined it earlier.  The name stitched into the breast pocket was 'Osgood'.  “Would that be any use?”

[Rob "the Meddler" Goodfellow]

"Lab coat, hey?" Rob picked it up and tried it on. "Nah, bit tight across the shoulders really. Looks like I'm the raggedy man a while longer."

Tossing it aside, he wandered idly through the room. Alley and Danny had probably done a thorough job tossing the remains, but you never knew. Finally, carrying a last few trinkets, he joined them at the pile and helped stuff bags. He cooed happily over a few items, stuffing one or two into the remnants of his pockets, and finally hefted a sack. With it slung over his shoulder, he looked nothing at all like Santa Clause. "All right, let's shift. Time and tide and all that, right?"

---

Later, in the APC

Bored, and annoyed by the way that Danny had refused to let him drive, Rob sat in the back of the APC and leafed through the book Alley had found. "Book classifying the dead" the title translated as, or 'laws of the dead". Necronomicon. "Apparently," he announced aloud, "someone at UNIT had an interest in rubbish Renaissance occultism - seems this was translated by John Dee himself, it was. Silly berk mauled the Arabic, he did."

He turned a page, finding himself confronted with a woodcut of a barrel-shaped, winged creature sporting tentacles on either end. Something in his memory nagged at him, made him think that he recognized the thing depicted in it. On the opposite page was a large circular glyph, decorated with astrological signs and Silurian characters. He pursed his lips, staring at the oddly familiar shape. "Yaksotot," he whispered, giving it a name. Then he glanced down, and sniggered. "I mean, listen to this bollocks translation. 'Scit Yog-Sothoth porta. Yog-Sothoth porta. Et portae custos Yog-Sothoth est clavis. Praeteritum, praesens, futurum Yog-Sothoth in omnes.'"

Leaning back against the wall, he shook his head. "Sounded so much better in the original, it did: 'Yaksotot zfhidoaso tainagnedaita dnea dbahmfleanit. Yaksotot sahni wgaeantwau znhai mreundai. Yaksotot sahni meeoncdheair yaaogsuhis hceajoimahnnhouirreann. Gsuhoiqun xiilaantzhaaiir jsiaantgloadih dsoau sthoidzhhciai ytia Yaksotot.'"

"What language is that?" WOTAN asked from his pocket.

"That's the origilan Arabic, ain't it? What old Abd wrote the bloody thing in, poor beggar."

"No," WOTAN said flatly. "It is not."

"Listen, you bloody..."

"I understand every language on this planet, Rob. That was not Arabic."

Rob glared at the book, then slammed it shut. "Bloody stupid thing, anyway." Tossing it back into the sack, he leaned forward and looked up into the driver's compartment. "Alley-cat? Why's Danny-boy stopping? Surely we ain't there, yet."

[Allison Castiel]

Rob glared at the book, then slammed it shut. "Bloody stupid thing, anyway." Tossing it back into the sack, he leaned forward and looked up into the driver's compartment. "Alley-cat? Why's Danny-boy stopping? Surely we ain't there, yet."

Allie, who had fallen into a half doze born of utter exhaustion in the front passenger seat, startled awake as Rob called her name. Sure enough, the ATV had come to a complete stop.

“Danny...?” Drowsily, she passed the question on to her friend.

He was sitting with his hands clenched white-knuckled on the wheel, staring ahead of them at the ribbon of black asphalt that was the road, gleaming in the pale moonlight.

“Look,” he said hoarsely.

Scootching forward in her seat, Allie rubbed at her eyes and peered through the windscreen. About ten metres in front of them, she could see something sprawled on the road. No, not something... someone. With a sinking sensation, she realised it looked like a child. A little girl, lying face down, with long blonde hair, dressed in a bright pink puffer jacket. From the size of her, Allie guessed she was around nine or ten years old.

“Danny.” Her voice was low, but urgent. “Danny, you have to keep going. I know what this looks like but... you need to drive around her. It's bound to be a trap. An ambush, set by the Los Ninos... or maybe something worse.”

“You don't understand.” There was an ache in his words, an undercurrent of pure pain and grief that she'd never heard before from him, as if there was a silent scream building in his throat that he couldn't utter.

She put her hand out to him, grasped him by the shoulder. “Then tell me! What don't I understand?”

His head turned slowly, too slowly to be normal, his dark eyes wild and burning with anguish. “It's my daughter.”

Shock stole Allie's breath, her heart beating loudly in her chest. Her gaze sprang back to the unmoving figure out on the road. “Kelsey? But... it can't be! She died during the War. You told me she died.”

“I thought she did! Our apartment building took a direct hit from a missile. She was inside, with her mother and little brother,” he burst out, his face feverish with torment. “I saw it collapse. But that's her, Castiel. I know my own child. That's her hair, her shape, she's wearing the puffer jacket I gave her that last Christmas...”

Her hand tightened on his shoulder almost painfully. “Listen to me, Danny, you can't go out there. You'll get yourself killed!  That isn't Kelsey. It can't be! She died five years ago. Even if you were wrong, even if she somehow survived, she wouldn't be ten any more. She'd have grown up!”

Danny tore himself away from her, refusing to accept what she was saying. “No... NO...” His body was tight with rejection, every part of his heart needing to believe that at least one of his family members was still alive. “It's her. I know it's her. I'm her father, I've got to go to her. I failed her once before, I won't do it again!”

“Danny, please, don't do this!"

“I'm sorry, Castiel. You two stay inside the ATV, where it's safe. If anything happens to me, just... drive like hell.” Snatching her close, he gave her a strong, fierce hug, his lips against her ear, as he whispered his final instructions. “Stick with Goodfellow, he's crazy, but he'll look after you. Good luck and... don't forget me.”

Before she could stop him, or even call his name again, he'd released her and popped open the driver's door. The last thing she heard of him was the emphatic slam of the door closing, preventing her from interfering as he slipped away into the night.

[Rob "the Meddler" Goodfellow]

"Bleedin' church," Rob sighed as the door slammed shut. He watched Danny jog off into the darkness, then slithered into the driver's seat. His hand stopped as he touched the keys, though, and he couldn't quite bring himself to turn the vehicle back on. Danny-boy had made his choice, hadn't he? And besides, if he could trust his patchwork memories, then once they'd fixed things none of this would have happened. So if Danny-boy got his fool self killed out there, it wouldn't matter. This Danny would be consigned to the ash heap of history, a neverwas or might-have-been detatched from the main trunk of history. He'd done it before, he knew. He didn't know how he knew that, but he knew it.

Done it before. Lots of times.

An old monster, whispered that naggingly familiar memory-voice. Hands steeped in blood...

With another sigh, he pulled the keys from the ignition and jammed them into one of his surviving pockets. "C'mon, Alley," he grumbled. "Can't let the daft berk get himself killed, now can we?" He pushed open the door and stepped out. "If his daughter's still breathin', I reckon he'll need help findin' her. And if she's not...?"

He slammed the door shut and locked it. "Then he'll need help with whatever it is that's playin' him."

The resolution didn't make him any happier about stopping in the middle of the demilitarized zone that was the outskirts of London, though. Not with crazy cannibals and worse on the loose. The sooner this was over, the better. Fortunatly, Danny wasn't hard to follow. The big man wasn't trying to be discrete or stealthy, and his voice echoed wierdly in the ruins as he called his little girl's name over and over. "Oh Danny Boy, Robin, Robin's calling," he saing, voice surprisingly pleasant. "From street to street and through the ruined town. Your cover's blown, and all the eyes are watching. It's you, It's you, must show some bleedin' common sense an' stop bellowin'!" The last broke the tune to come out in an irritated snarl as he caught up with the big man.

"I told you," Danny said, whirling, "to stay-"

Rob backhanded him across the face, then slammed him into a wall. "An' I bloody well said that you need to stop yer bleatin'!" Rob hissed. "It's you calls [i[me[/i] crazy, ain't it? Told me all about how bloody dangerous it is out here? An' here you are, a' shoutin' fer anyone who wanders past to come an' make kebabs outta yer an' yer daughter!"

Struggling, Danny was startled to discover that Rob was stronger than his wirey fram appeared. "You don't understand!" he snapped back. "It's my..."

Rob slapped him again. "I bloody well do!" Which was news to him, but his brain had volunteered that information. "Three... no, five o' me own. An' when they was little, I'd have done anythin' fer them. But you ain't helpin' her, bellowin' an' bleating' and drawin' attention!" He glared into Danny's eyes. "Now. You gonna yerself down, or am I gonna 'ave ta slap th' stupid outta yer?"

[Allison Castiel]

Unlike the days, which were blazing hot, the post-Apocalyptic nights were bitter – a cold that bit deep into your bones and stayed there like a cancer. Allie shivered as she jumped out of the ATV behind Rob. The rapid cooling of the land had created an eerie, drifting ground fog, which reduced the local visibility to intermittent at best. The moonlight came and went, fading in and out, one moment bright and white; the next, abandoning them to complete darkness, as heavy cloud drifted over the face of the moon.

As a result, Allie wasn't quite sure when the child's body disappeared from the road. Up ahead, she saw Danny reach the place where she had lain, only to find nothing there. Desperately, he whirled around, shouting his daughter's name as he searched the darkness for a clue where she had gone. Off to his right, deep in the ruins of what had once been the picturesque village of Godalming, and was now nothing but piles of blasted rubble, he caught a glimpse of something pink. It was just a flicker in the shadows, but without hesitation, Danny charged off the road, still shouting Kelsey's name.

Rob ran after him, his long legs eating up the ground. Again, Allie was amazed at how quickly her new friend could move. Despite Danny's head start, Rob closed the gap on him, his own voice softly lilting to the tune of a famous old Irish ballad.

"Oh Danny Boy, Robin, Robin's calling," he saing, voice surprisingly pleasant. "From street to street and through the ruined town. Your cover's blown, and all the eyes are watching. It's you, It's you, must show some bleedin' common sense an' stop bellowin'!" The last broke the tune to come out in an irritated snarl as he caught up with the big man.

Being much smaller, and not nearly as fast, by the time the blonde girl caught up with them, Rob had pinned Danny against a wall in what appeared to be the shattered remains of an ancient church. The wind moaned eerily through the skeletonised steeple. Oddly, one single stained-glass window had survived the bombardment of the apocalypse, a haloed imaged of the Virgin Mary holding the Christ Child. As Allie ran up to the two men, panting for breath, moonlight shone through the large painted heart on Mary's breast, scattering prismic droplets of crimson light across the ground like blood. Allie had seen a lot since the War, but she didn't think she'd ever been anywhere this creepy, not even when they'd braved the Gunnersbury tunnels.

Struggling, Danny was startled to discover that Rob was stronger than his wirey fram appeared. "You don't understand!" he snapped back. "It's my..."

Rob slapped him again. "I bloody well do!" Which was news to him, but his brain had volunteered that information. "Three... no, five o' me own. An' when they was little, I'd have done anythin' fer them. But you ain't helpin' her, bellowin' an' bleating' and drawin' attention!" He glared into Danny's eyes. "Now. You gonna yerself down, or am I gonna 'ave ta slap th' stupid outta yer?"

"Please, Danny, it isn't safe out here! You know better than this! You taught me better than this!” Allie begged, adding her plea to Rob's. “Whatever's out here, it isn't your daughter. And it's intentionally leading us further and further from the ATV, making us vulnerable!”

All at once, as if to emphasise her words, there was an ominous scuffling sound. In a tight ring, completely surrounding them, dark, shabby figures began to rise out of the ground. With a chill of horror, Allie realised they'd been there all along, concealed and motionless, waiting to spring their trap. Once human, they were now anything but. Their faces were hideous and emaciated, their limbs spidery and stick-like, as if all the life had been sucked right out of their bodies. Even more horribly, as if by contrast, their bellies showed round and distended through the rags of their clothes, men and women and children alike. One of them was small with long blonde hair, dressed in what had once been a pink puffer jacket. Her cadaverous face was covered in pustulent sores and her eyes were blank and vacant.

Danny let out a low, long moan of anguish and disbelief, his body going limp in Rob's grasp.

“Oh God,” Allie breathed, appalled. Automatically retreating, she backed up until she stood close to the two men, her cheeks chalk white. “Creepers. They're all Creepers!”

[Rob "the Meddler" Goodfellow]

“Oh God,” Allie breathed, appalled. Automatically retreating, she backed up until she stood close to the two men, her cheeks chalk white. “Creepers. They're all Creepers!”

"Creepers, hey?" Rob echoed, looking around. "Bleedin' ragged scarecrows, more like."

His tone was light, but he eyed the encroaching mob carefully. They were starving, that much was clear. Fleshless, stick-like limbs and swollen bellies and skin stretched thin over their skulls. They wore rags and tatters, seemingly more from habit than anything else, and there was hunger in their dull, angry eyes. This was bad, it was. Very bad.

As he watched, one of them crept closer. A child, or an extremely small adult, with long matted blonde hair She sniffed like an animal, licking her lips. Drawing a breath, Rob stepped forward and said something. At least, it seemed like he said something, although nothing he said was recognizable as human speech. Strange wet noises issued from his mouth as his lips moved, loose and flapping, interspersing the wet noises with loud glottal swallowing. The creepers flinched back at that, looking around wildly.

"Well," Rob observed as the scurried back, "that settles that. Whatever else they are, they ain't ghul." He glanced around, wishing they'd scurried back further. "Pity, that. I could probably negotiate with ghul. This lot, though..?" He shrugged.

"We're dead," Danny whispered.

"Oh, no, we ain't dead," Rob replied, still watching the creepers. "Still breathin', ain't we? An' we still got us a world to save, don't we. So we ain't got time to be gettin' killed. Here, I got an idea." Still watching the creepers, he stooped down and picked up an egg-sized lump of concrete. They flinched back, watching him warily as he picked up several more.

"You gonna fight them?" Danny asked.

Rob snorted. "No. Not if I don't have to." He shifted his hands, weighing the concrete lumps he held. "No, here in a minute, you an' Alley-cat are gonna leg it like church fer the APC. Meanwhile, we'll keep 'em distracted. WOTAN?" he asked, addressing his pocket. "I think there was some music in me wallet. Any left?"

"Yes," the AI responded.

"Great. Play us something peppy, would you?" He experimentally hefted the lumps again, then glanced backwards. "An' Danny? Try not to get distracted again. Hit it!" Music began blasting out of Rob's pocket and the creepers jerked, startled. Then, before they could react, he began juggling. "Roll up, roll up!" he called, as the irregular lumps of concrete began flashing through the air. "And leg it!"

[Rob "the Meddler" Goodfellow]

OOC: Hopeful bump?

[Allison Castiel]

"Creepers, hey?" Rob echoed, looking around. "Bleedin' ragged scarecrows, more like."

His tone was light, but he eyed the encroaching mob carefully. They were starving, that much was clear. Fleshless, stick-like limbs and swollen bellies and skin stretched thin over their skulls. They wore rags and tatters, seemingly more from habit than anything else, and there was hunger in their dull, angry eyes. This was bad, it was. Very bad.

“Their bellies are full of dormant Glyptapanteles larvae,” Allie whispered in a strangled voice. “That's why they're so swollen. When the larvae awaken, they eat their way free.”

As he watched, one of them crept closer. A child, or an extremely small adult, with long matted blonde hair. She sniffed like an animal, licking her lips.

“Kelsey!” Danny wailed, trying to thrust his way past Allie, his face wild and tortured and unheeding. “Sweetheart, it's Daddy! Don't you recognise me?”

Like a tiny but determined terrier, Allie clung to him, slowing his progress and refusing to let go. “NO! She isn't your daughter any more, Danny. I'm sorry, but Kelsey's dead. That... thing... is nothing but a husk!”

Danny fought to throw her off, but short of hitting her, there was no way to dislodge her grip. “Let go, Castiel, I'm warning you...”

Drawing a breath, Rob stepped forward and said something. At least, it seemed like he said something, although nothing he said was recognizable as human speech. Strange wet noises issued from his mouth as his lips moved, loose and flapping, interspersing the wet noises with loud glottal swallowing. The creepers flinched back at that, looking around wildly.

"Well," Rob observed as the scurried back, "that settles that. Whatever else they are, they ain't ghul." He glanced around, wishing they'd scurried back further. "Pity, that. I could probably negotiate with ghul. This lot, though..?" He shrugged.

"I don't know what ghul are,” Allison replied. “But you can't negotiate with Creepers. Somehow, the wasp larvae control their minds from inside. The only thing they care about is protecting the burden they carry.”

The Creepers were inching nearer again, closing the circle. The monster that had once been Danny's daughter was at the front of the pack, her empty eyes fixed on the three of them with an unnatural hunger that sent shivers down Allie's spine. Drool ran in small rivulets from the corners of the child's mouth. Salivation, at the thought of tearing their raw, bloody flesh from their bones and swallowing it whole, to nourish the vile creatures nesting in her belly.

At the awful sight, Danny stopped struggling, paralysed in shock, and his shoulders slumped like a wounded animal. It was as though, Allie thought with a stab of grief, something essential had just died inside him. Instead of trying to hold him back, her arms tightened around him in comfort, even though the anguish of this situation was beyond any possible consolation.

"We're dead," Danny whispered.

"Oh, no, we ain't dead," Rob replied, still watching the creepers. "Still breathin', ain't we? An' we still got us a world to save, don't we. So we ain't got time to be gettin' killed. Here, I got an idea." Still watching the creepers, he stooped down and picked up an egg-sized lump of concrete. They flinched back, watching him warily as he picked up several more.

"You gonna fight them?" Danny asked.

Rob snorted. "No. Not if I don't have to." He shifted his hands, weighing the concrete lumps he held. "No, here in a minute, you an' Alley-cat are gonna leg it like church fer the APC. Meanwhile, we'll keep 'em distracted.”

Allie had no idea was Rob's plan was, but she trusted him to see it through. She also didn't bother to waste time telling him to be careful. Rob was sharp and intelligent, but he wasn't a reckless hero. Whatever scheme he had brewing in his head, he fully intended to come out alive on the other side. Instead, she concentrated her attention on Danny, because she wasn't at all sure that coming out alive mattered to him any more. Not after seeing what Kelsey had become.

“Are you listening, Danny?” She tugged insistently on his arm. “We have to run. Together. When Rob says so, we have to get back to the truck.”

“I hear you,” he answered. But his voice was distant and despairing, his eyes fixed unwaveringly on his daughter's ruined face as she edged closer and closer to them.

“WOTAN?" [Rob] asked, addressing his pocket. "I think there was some music in me wallet. Any left?"

"Yes," the AI responded.

"Great. Play us something peppy, would you?" He experimentally hefted the lumps again, then glanced backwards. "An' Danny? Try not to get distracted again. Hit it!" Music began blasting out of Rob's pocket and the creepers jerked, startled. Then, before they could react, he began juggling. "Roll up, roll up!" he called, as the irregular lumps of concrete began flashing through the air.

Juggling! Allie couldn't have been more surprised if Rob had suddenly done a strip tease. He was juggling, like a circus clown. And it was working. The Creepers were staring at him, fascinated, the lively music echoing bizzarely around the ruins. Allie hadn't heard any music in five long years. Hearing it now only added to the surreal experience.

"And leg it!"

At Rob's command, she pulled again on Danny's arm and began to run. To her relief, he made no resistance to being drawn along with her, his boots matching her steps. They pushed through the cordon of mesmerised Creepers and out of the shattered church into the open. The ATV was just ahead, on the road where they had left it, headlights beaming across the jagged asphalt. Hope surged inside her. They were going to make it.

She never even saw it coming. A dark shape – another Creeper – leaping from the shadows behind the ATV, hissing and snarling. It struck Danny first, and under its weight, both he and Allie went down, crashing to the sandy ground in a confused tangle of limbs.

---

((OOC:  Sorry for delay, I was having a bit of writer's block with this one for some reason - I hope this post is okay!!!))

[Rob "the Meddler" Goodfellow]

This is a bad, bad idea, Rob thought.

Oh, it was working and all. The Creepers - and now he remembered that Alley had confirmed they were hosts full of wasp larvae - were staring, enthralled and perplexed by his actions. They probably expected him to run, after all, and the fact that he wasn't doing that was messing with their reflexes. And be honest, the whirling chunks of broken masonry and concrete were probably catching their eyes. All of their eyes, the human ones and the dozens - maybe hundreds - of multifaceted eyes that chewed their guts and demanded food. But it wouldn't work long, he figured.

Shoulda paid attention, he grumbled to himself. Shoulda remembered they're hosts fer parasites, not just barmy cannibals.

Still, Alley-cat and Danny-boy had scarpered. That made this all just a little simpler, didn't it? But... that thing was happening again. That thing where he seemed to catch glimpses of what was about to happen, and what was about to happen was unpleasant and terminal. They were hungrier than they were bored, after all, and music and juggling would only hold them so long. "That's it, watch the show!" he called, shifting a little and watching them watch his movements. "Lovely bit of juggling, and now I'll need volunteers from the audience!"

His hands began to blur and the chunks of stone launched forward. The first caught the Creeper who was just beginning to spring, crashing hard into a deceptively little girl face and flipping her on her back. Two more struck Creepers in the ribs, checking an attempt to dash forward and grab him. The others flew scattershot, drawing blood and cracking bone, and covering his sudden spin and sprint. The sudden attack bought him nearly six seconds as the Creepers drew back at the onslaught before realizing he was running, and then hunting reflexes kicked in.

"Bugger!" Rob huffed as he ran. "Bugger, bugger, bugger bugger!" He flexed his right hand experimentally, feeling for something that he thought should be there, but his hand closed on nothing but empty air. "Shadows and mummery," he snorted at himself. "What would I have?"

Then he saw Alley-cat and Danny-boy down, pinned to the pavement before the ATV by a lone Creeper that was squabbling and snarling and ripping at Danny's throat. The big man determinedly gripped one lean wrist and pushed against a pale forehead, muscles straining to keep the snarling parasite victim from his throat. It was clearly a fight he was going to lose, though - Danny was also gasping for breath, as if the wind had been knocked from his lungs.

Rob caught it in passing, arm hooking around the Creeper's throat and slamming it backwards into the broken pavement. There was a hollow crack as the woman's skull - she had been a thin brunette in life, still wearing a lab coat with 'Osgood' on the pocket - bounced hard. The parasites that controlled her nervous system tried to rallie, forcing the concussed host to start to rise, and Rob helped himself stand by driving his knuckles in to her throat with a loud crack. "C'mon!" he barked, stomping on her abdomen as the wasp larvae tried to force her to rise again, "shift! There's a mob behind me, there is, and I ain't in the mood for company!"

Kicking the wasp host again, he grabbed Danny with one hand and Alley with the other and heaved, dragging them to their feet. "Right there!" he shouted, pushing them both towards the ATV. "Right there, and tell me you didn't lock the doors!"

[Allison Castiel]

Dazed, Allie lay sprawled on the broken tarmac, half-crushed by Danny's larger body, as he fought to hold off their attacker. The Creeper's visage, once quite pretty, was now truly horrific, the stuff of nightmares. Her skin was tattered and bloody, marred by weeping pustules that looked like plague sores of some sort. Incongruously, she was still wearing a pair of dark-rimmed spectacles, the lenses spider-webbed with a fine network of cracks.

As she reared over them, Allie could see the name tag painstakingly stitched on to the pocket of what remained of a ragged lab coat. It read 'Osgood'. Allie's mind flashed back to an identical coat, the one she had found in the Black Archive back at the Tower. Had this woman been a UNIT scientist? Had it been the Creepers who had so thoroughly ransacked and destroyed the secret facility? They would probably never know for sure, but it seemed likely.

Danny was swearing frenziedly, as he tried to throw the woman off them, but she was ridiculously strong. Driven by the will of the wasp larvae, she could no longer feel any pain. Her body absorbed every punch Danny threw at her and she just kept coming. Then, miraculously, Rob was there, wrenching her away from behind, smashing her brutally into the ground. The crack of her skull made a sickening sound in the still night air, sending an appalled shiver up Allie's spine.

The parasites that controlled her nervous system tried to rallie, forcing the concussed host to start to rise, and Rob helped himself stand by driving his knuckles in to her throat with a loud crack. "C'mon!" he barked, stomping on her abdomen as the wasp larvae tried to force her to rise again, "shift! There's a mob behind me, there is, and I ain't in the mood for company!"

Kicking the wasp host again, he grabbed Danny with one hand and Alley with the other and heaved, dragging them to their feet. "Right there!" he shouted, pushing them both towards the ATV. "Right there, and tell me you didn't lock the doors!"

"I didn't!” Allie squeaked. “You did!”

Ducking under his arm, her hand snaked out and into his pocket, retrieving the keys from where she had seen him stuff them earlier. And although it delayed them by a few extra precious seconds as she fumbled with the button to release the door locks, she was glad that he'd had the presence of mind to secure the vehicle. At least now they could be sure that there wouldn't be any Creepers lurking inside, waiting to ambush them.

They managed to get inside and crash the doors shut just as the mob of remaining parasite-ridden zombies converged on them. The armoured vehicle rocked and shuddered as the creatures swarmed on top of them like ants, desperately trying to find a way to get at the fresh meat inside. In seconds, the windscreen was covered with a filthy mass of squirming, emaciated bodies, pressing obscenely against the glass.

Danny snatched the keys from Allie's hand and slammed them into the ignition. Gloriously, the engine roared into life and he floored the accelerator, giving it every ounce of guts the powerful engine possessed. Fishtailing slightly under the combined weight of the swarming Creepers, the ATV sped away into the night, scattering bodies left, right and centre as it went.

[Rob "the Meddler" Goodfellow]

"I did?" Rob blustered, shoving Danny through the door and jerking it shut behind him as the Creepers hit it. "I never did! Why the church would I lock the bleedin' doors, when there's wasp-ridden murder cannibals about?"

Danny snatched the key from Alley's hand and started the vehicle. "Not in the mood," he muttered darkly, voice almost inaudible under the pounding of flesh on metal as the Creepers swarmed over them. "Not in the mood at all."

The engine rumbled to life. Watching him carefully for a moment, Rob settled into the passenger seat and tried to look out through a windscreen covered with bodies. Once or twice a boil on exposed skin burst, smearing a tiny wiggling wasp across the glass. "No," he agreed, reaching out and flipping the switch for the wipers. "I expect you ain't." The wipers groaned, failing utterly at dislodging the Creepers. "Just get us outta here, Danny."

He eased the vehicle forward, taking it slow at first. Creepers slid away, tumbling to the ground and rolling, and both men tried to ignore the quick glimpse of a small blonde figure amongst their ranks. For a while, everything was silent in the cabin. Rob leaned back, watching out the window. Danny gripped the steering wheel with both hands, white knuckled, thinking hard as he drove over the rough, broken streets. "What happens?" he finally asked, breaking the silence.

"Whaddya mean?" Rob asked back.

"What happens?" Danny waved around with one hand. "With all of this. What happens, if... if you're right. If you can, can change it?"

Rob turned to look at him, and shrugged. "Then it never happened. Any of it."

Danny braked, shifting the vehicle to park as he turned to stare at Rob with haunted eyes. "I need more than that, Goodfellow," he said, voice brittle. "What... happens... to... us? To all of us?"

Rob didn't answer for a moment, then nodded his head. "I can't promise you anything about what happens in the new history, Danny," he said softly. "But... your family picks up where they were before it all went to hell. Your Kelsey never has to run from monster wasps. Those Creepers never get infested. Jem never has to set up a survival camp."

"What about me?" Danny asked, sounding tired.

"This happened," Rob said slowly, gesturing around. "It happened to us. When we go back, it's still our past. Even if it's the future, and even if it never happened." He hesitated, then rested a hand on Danny's shoulder. "You'll remember. Everything. But you won't have to live it again."

Danny started to say something, face working as he fought back tears. Then he stopped, and nodded. Slowly, he shifted out of park, and the engine rumbled into life once more.

---

Dawn broke, the light of the morning sun harsh in the arid atmosphere of the dying world. Rob was driving now, having taken the wheel when Danny was incapable of keeping his eyes open longer, and he'd driven the night through without bothering to rest. Even now, with the rising sun casting red flame and stark black shadows across the barren landscape before him, without having bothered to sleep at any time since he'd found himself sitting on Lord Nelson's Column, he felt no need for sleep. Instead, he let the APC rumble to a stop and then leaned forward against the steering wheel to contemplate the sight before him.

www.surrey.ac.uk/sites/default/files/campus-video-placeholder.jpg[/i,g]

It would have been scenic once, he assumed. A sparkling lake, shaded by tall green trees that concealed elegant buildings of concrete and glass. All of that was gone now, the lake dried up and the trees killed by the overzealous efforts of humanity to kill the unkillable. Now broken dessicated stumps stood guard over a cracked dry bed, and wind-scoured concrete structures squatted dully in the glare.

"I met a traveller from an antique land," he whispered, "Who said: “Two vast and trunkless legs of stone stand in the desert . . . Near them, on the sand, half sunk, a shattered visage lies, whose frown, and wrinkled lip, and sneer of cold command, tell that its sculptor well those passions read which yet survive, stamped on these lifeless things, the hand that mocked them, and the heart that fed."

He shifted a little, leaning back against the seat once more. "And on the pedestal these words appear: ‘My name is Ozymandias, king of kings: Look on my works, ye Mighty, and despair!'"

He paused to tear open a MRE. "Nothing beside remains. Round the decay of that colossal wreck, boundless and bare the lone and level sands stretch far away.” Then he grinned. "Hey! Cheese tortellini!" Digging into the bag with his fingers, he enthusiastically slurped down a handfull of cold pasta. "Come on, you two!" he called back, sucking cheese sauce off his fingers. "Tuck in! We've a colossal wreck to explore, on account o' I don't remember exactly where the ARC's located!"

[Allison Castiel]

He eased the vehicle forward, taking it slow at first. Creepers slid away, tumbling to the ground and rolling, and both men tried to ignore the quick glimpse of a small blonde figure amongst their ranks. For a while, everything was silent in the cabin.

Allie hunched down into the front passenger seat and stared blindly out the side window, unable to bear looking at Danny's face. After five long years of the post-Apocalyptic world, and all the associated hardships, she'd thought her tears were as dried up as the River Thames. But at the sight of that child, so very precious to her friend, her life cut so senselessly and horribly short, she found that the grief was too much to hold inside, and she was silently crying.

Rob leaned back, watching out the window. Danny gripped the steering wheel with both hands, white knuckled, thinking hard as he drove over the rough, broken streets. "What happens?" he finally asked, breaking the silence.

"Whaddya mean?" Rob asked back.

"What happens?" Danny waved around with one hand. "With all of this. What happens, if... if you're right. If you can, can change it?"

Rob turned to look at him, and shrugged. "Then it never happened. Any of it."

Danny braked, shifting the vehicle to park as he turned to stare at Rob with haunted eyes. "I need more than that, Goodfellow," he said, voice brittle. "What... happens... to... us? To all of us?"

Allie didn't turn her head, but she was listening all the same. She couldn't blame Danny for his questions. Rob was his only hope now. His only reason for going on. Because if this was all there was... if it was all there would ever be... what would be the point? She'd often asked herself the same question. When her home was destroyed.  When Glenda died. When she was so hungry or thirsty that it ate away at her belly like a cancer. But there had always been part of her that was too stubborn to give up. And after a while, there had always been Danny, rough and gruff, but urging her onwards, telling her she had to fight to survive.

Rob didn't answer for a moment, then nodded his head. "I can't promise you anything about what happens in the new history, Danny," he said softly. "But... your family picks up where they were before it all went to hell. Your Kelsey never has to run from monster wasps. Those Creepers never get infested. Jem never has to set up a survival camp."

"What about me?" Danny asked, sounding tired.

"This happened," Rob said slowly, gesturing around. "It happened to us. When we go back, it's still our past. Even if it's the future, and even if it never happened." He hesitated, then rested a hand on Danny's shoulder. "You'll remember. Everything. But you won't have to live it again."

"The Doctor once told me...” Allie piped up, her voice small and sad. “That it's like being at the eye of a storm. When you change history. For everyone else, it never happened, and they don't remember. But the ones who make the change... they're at what he called the temporal epicentre, and it affects them differently. They can't forget.”

Danny started to say something, face working as he fought back tears. Then he stopped, and nodded. Slowly, he shifted out of park, and the engine rumbled into life once more.

---

Allie had been asleep when the two men switched places, so she was surprised when she awoke to find that Rob was now in the driver's seat. Especially since he seemed to be quoting poetry.

Danny was just stirring in the backseat, and she realised that he must have been taking a nap. She hoped he'd managed some actual sleep. After last night's traumatic events, it would have been the best thing for him. Some untroubled rest, and maybe some dreams of a time when things were better.

She peered out the windscreen at the arid lake bed and the shattered buildings. “This is it? We made it to Surrey?” To be honest, Allie had never been to Surrey in her life before. Universities weren't really her thing.  But even if she had, she doubted she would have recognised any of it from this devastated landscape.

"Hey! Cheese tortellini!" Digging into the bag with his fingers, [Rob] enthusiastically slurped down a handfull of cold pasta. "Come on, you two!" he called back, sucking cheese sauce off his fingers. "Tuck in! We've a colossal wreck to explore, on account o' I don't remember exactly where the ARC's located!"

“In a minute,” Allie responded, with a yawn. “First I need to do what my Aunt Vanessa used to politely call 'spending a penny'.” Cautiously, she shoved open the passenger door and peeped outside. The sun was rising, but it was too early yet for it to cause any damage. There was no sign of anything moving in the thin, pale light, but she reached for her rifle just the same.  After last night, she wasn't taking any chances.  “Don't worry, I won't go far.” And before either of the men could comment, she slipped out of the door and swung it closed behind her.

As soon as she'd gone, Danny climbed over from the back to take her place in the front seat. “I need to talk to you, Goodfellow,” he said gruffly. “Now, quickly, before she comes back. It's important.”