ashes ➝ Doctor Who²

XXXVIII

"What's so important about her?"
- Tom, Last of the Time Lords

Penelope landed back in Jasper's kitchen. But something was off. It was dark but she set to come back in the middle of the day. Going over to the windows she pulled open the curtains to find them all blocked off. Staring in horror, she looked down at the vortex manipulator.

She was sure she had set to go back a week after. But no, it had switched. She was almost a year into the future. What the hell had gone so badly wrong that Jasper had to board his windows up?

Then it hit her. Something further into the darkened apartment had started to smell off, it was putrid. She had smelt this before but what it was had escaped her. Creeping into the apartment, a hand on her holster, the panic crept up in her chest the longer she spent scouring the rooms. It was strongest in the bedroom, and it had finally caught up with her.

She turned to throw up in the small bin, but could only dry heave, making the sensation so much worse. The only things making it into the bin were tears as they flowed freely down her face, chest heaving. Falling to her knees over the bin, it almost felt like the tips of her fingers were numb.

The only other time in her life she had encountered this smell was in those ruins. The pile of decaying bodies piled on top of each other, the smell seeping into their clothes and skin. It took weeks of scrubbing to finally feel like she had lost that smell of rotting bodies.

Then, horrified, she finally realised where the smell was coming from. Underneath Jasper's bed was a foot, just barely visible from where she was. She shook out her cold hands, trying to get the blood flowing once again.

Still crying, she crawled on her hands and knees across the room, praying that this was a civilian. No matter how badly that sounded, she couldn't lose anyone else.

She couldn't look down at the person until they were completely out from under the bed. The smell had only gotten worse as the person was dragged towards her. They got caught on something and Penelope had to pull hard.

As they came loose, Penelope fell backwards, her chest heavy in morbid anticipation. Sitting up, she was first drawn to the partially cauterised, gaping hole in the person's chest. Blood still oozed in places, but it was thick, meaning they had been under the bed for a while.

Her view became hazy, gripping at the shoulders of the person, praying she had seen wrong. But as her heart broke, strangled screams and vigorous shaking did nothing to wake up her best friend. It seems that it didn't matter how much she had begged the universe, Jasper wasn't safe.

Sobbing, she tried anything to cover up his chest wound, the only thing she was doing was spreading his blood around and up onto her hands. She leant down, forehead on his shoulder as she cried, bunching his shirt into her hands. Trying to force herself to wake up, because this couldn't be real. She couldn't be covered in her best friend's blood, she isn't there praying for him to wake up, there isn't a single reason for her to believe this is real.

It must've been a couple hours of lying there before anything changed. There was a quiet knock at his apartment door, but she didn't move. Whoever it was, they could just kill her too, anything to get out of what is just a bad dream. She was so numb, so cold. It was hard to breathe, let alone move. She hadn't felt like this for months.

The door opened but was quickly shut and locked again behind them. They crept through the house, but they weren't quiet enough for Penelope to lose track of them. It doesn't matter who they are, all that will happen is them finding the same scene she did.

The person - a woman - called out for Jasper multiple times. Not getting any reply, they got closer to the bedroom. Deciding that she really shouldn't force anyone else to see this, Penelope struggled to get up. The last thing she wanted to do was leave him now, but she couldn't let this innocent person face it. Walking backwards shakily, it wasn't until she had left the room and closed the door that Penelope actually turned around.

Martha stood at the end of the short corridor, looking at her in horror.

"Penelope? You're.. you're covered in blood."

"It's.. uh," she took a moment to cough and clear her throat, it was sore from the hours she spent crying over her partner, "it's not mine."

"Jasper?"

"He's gone."

The two women stood in silence. It had been a couple months for Martha, dealing with this world, but she hadn't had to deal with that much death yet. Not up close, and not this personal. Slowly, she walked towards Penelope, taking the unresponsive woman into her arms.

"I'm so sorry."

"Martha, it's only been a year, what the hell happened?" She looked up at the woman, and at any other time Penelope would've felt bad for what she saw behind her stare. Martha must've seen far too much to be looking at her like that.

"You, you're going to want to sit down for this."