ADIUTRIX | DOCTOR WHO

↳ oxygen #3

It seemed leaving a door leading outside hadn't been a good idea because just as they entered an intersection of passages, several of those zombies interrupted their path. Men and women, stuck somewhere after death, reached for strangers.

"They're here. Come on!" The Doctor urged his company to move through an empty doorway, checking they all made through before going in himself. "This way! Move!"

"You look like you're trying to run. Would you like some help with that?" Bill's suit called out with amazing calm while he kept on fiddling with a panel.

"Can you shut your girlfriend up?" She pleaded with Nardole.

"Velma!" Ophelia staggered back at his sudden shout. "That was her name!"

"Confirmed." It complied to his command. "My name is now Velma."

As the Doctor sealed the bulkhead door between them and a horde of zombies, he took further action by smashing the control panel. But there was no way out. Those things had used their very trick to keep them trapped on a dead end.

"We've hit a sealed door at the end of Corridor Twelve." Ophelia leaned against it, face to face with him. She had lied about the gravity of her injuries. "No way through."

Her lying shouldn't be that surprising, and if he were being honest that didn't bother him as much as the way her lips stayed thinly pressed while her eyes conveyed a horrible message. If it comes down to it, leave me. Like hell he would. Her eyebrows curved in response, that is ridiculous rang through both their minds, in company of many shared smiles over tea and disbelief at another of his crazy stories.

"Tasker, come in." She heard desperation seeping into his voice but had things always been this blurry?

"Oh!" Nardole exclaimed. "They're through!" Maybe glasses, but they shouldn't be needed.

As both guys hammered on the door, calling out hello's and anybody's to a silent Tasker, Ophelia's hazy vision caught on to her friend. In spite of growing pains, a kick of adrenaline helped her reach the girl.

"Bill, listen to me." Surprisingly they were able to keep their eyes locked. "Match me. Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in."

"Breathe out." Bill's shaky breath steadied little by little. "Breathe in, breathe out."

Then she made the mistake of checking how far away those zombies were. Answer: not too far. Panic came back like an angry ocean during storm season.

"Hey, remember when Shireen slapped Paul?" Ophelia's body ignored itself, a dissociation technique learned during training year number six, to focus on keeping someone alive.

"What?" That was way too many breaths.

"Yeah." She began to talk fast, with an uncharacteristic cheerfulness, hoping to distract her. "We'd gone out for chips, remember?"

"Yeah." Bill focused on her friend's hazel eyes. "After the gallery, right?"

"And we..." That memory came at full speed. "We had been walking back to your place and he made this... this very ungraceful comment about some girl in his Lit class..."

"Wasn't it Claire from European History?" Her voice became steadier.

"It was!" Ophelia smile at how her breath became steadier.

People said that when a group went through traumatic experiences together, it served to bring them closer in a way. What could possibly be more traumatic than a trip down memory lane while angry zombies came at you? Both girls shakily smiled at each other and then looked over at the Doctor, to let him know whatever happened was okay. Somehow, they'd be perfectly fine. Much to their surprise, the door chose that moment to open.