Author's Notes:

Time to draw the Doctor and Charlie's misadventures on Solos Nine to a close – but not before we meet the series' main villain. Sort of.

The Doctor's fingers tightened around the railing as he leaned over the edge of the platform.

With his eyes now accustomed to the darkness, he could see that the faint glow emanating from the tanks below were beginning to fade. One by one, the lights were going out.

From the depths of the tower, an unearthly grinding and wrenching sound reverberated around him.

"The life support…" he breathed. "If the system fails, millions of people will die…"

The Doctor made for the ladder, but hesitated, and turned back.

"But I need to get Charlie out of there first," he muttered. "He doesn't belong in this time period. He's my responsibility."

He leapt back over to the holographic globe, and wrenched a section out with his hands, opening up a window.

On the screen, he could see Charlie's view, as he looked desperately between a blue-haired girl with orange eyes, and the blocked door.

The Doctor clamped his eyes shut, and the memory of the word 'VYPER' flashed before him.

"And if I don't stop that virus, they could all be in danger!" the Doctor roared, pulling at his hair in frustration.

He had to make a decision quickly.

The Doctor began to manipulate pieces of the globe, his arms waving frantically, like an orchestra conductor. He drew connections between different shapes, and threw in new lines of code.

Everything he tried was failing. The virus was spreading faster than before; orange blips bled across the sphere, corrupting the core of the system.

The Doctor stopped, chewing on his thumb as he worked out what to do next.

"This is going to be more difficult than I thought," he grumbled. "This system is incredibly sophisticated. Almost… un-hackable. I would be impressed, but I don't have the time."

The Doctor reached out, pulling Charlie's mind away from the oncoming stream of orange data. "The only thing I can do… is keep you safe."

The door was blocked. Charlie was trapped inside a computer system in the far future, and there was no way out.

Willow's avatar advanced towards him, and he backed away.

"Wake up," Charlie urged, slapping his forehead as hard as he dared, "Wake up!"

"Hello, Charlie," Willow simpered. "I've been looking forward to meeting you."

Charlie's heart froze in his chest. Willow's voice had changed again. This time, it sounded cold and sinister, and it scared him.

"What do you mean?"

Willow chuckled, and it was a moment before she answered.

"You're not sure yet, are you?"

Charlie frowned, struggling to make sense of her words. Backing slowly away, he collided with the glass wall.

Willow closed the space between them, and reached out to him.

Charlie flinched.

"Oh, don't look so concerned," she cooed, "I'm not going to kill you."

She paused, glancing away thoughtfully for a moment, reconsidering her words.

"Actually, yes I am."

Her shining orange eyes bore into him.

"But I'd love to have a little chat first."

Charlie clamped his eyes shut, screaming the words inside his head: wake up, wake up, wake up!

But this wasn't a nightmare. His brain was plugged into a computer.

He felt the sudden sensation of being submerged in water. Cold liquid poured into his mouth, through his nose, and down his throat, filling his lungs. He was drowning.

Panicked, he opened his eyes.

"Keep still," Willow's avatar insisted.

He looked around. There were more avatars surrounding him. They were real people – or images of them at least, their eyes shining orange. He was still in the virtual world. Still in the computer simulation. There had to be a way out. A cheat code.

Without thinking, Charlie pushed past the avatars, and charged straight at the doorway – straight into the wall. He shut his eyes tight, expecting to receive a nasty bruise.

Nothing.

Charlie slowly opened his eyes. Twisting back round, he saw that he had simply run straight through a solid wall.

But he didn't have time to be amazed, or confused. He had to keep going. He had to get out.

He began to sprint down the endless white corridor.

"Wall thickness – zero!" the Doctor exclaimed with excitement. He grinned, watching a flashing blue dot float through the system, surfing the wave of orange blips crashing towards it.

He waved his hands, painting more lines in the air, drawing the blue dot away from the virus.

He paused for a moment, frowning.

Pinching the air, the Doctor expanded a few lines of code.

The virus had just made a mistake – which was ridiculous, the Doctor considered, because viruses don't make mistakes. If he didn't know better, he would say that it wasn't a computer virus at all, but a living thing.

VYPER had attempted to bypass a number of system protocols – cutting corners, as it chased after Charlie. It had slipped up, leaving itself momentarily vulnerable.

In those few moments, the Doctor snatched up a sliver of information it had left behind.

"The source of the virus…" the muttered aloud, his voice laced with dismay, "but that's…"

Charlie skidded to a halt, throwing his arms out to stop himself tripping up. All the doors ahead of him, as far as he could see, swung open, and a person through each one. They were all avatars – each with an individual form – people of all descriptions, each with glowing eyes.

He staggered back around, and began running back the way he came. He didn't get very far, as Willow's avatar, followed by ten others, marched out of his door, blocking his path.

There was no other way through. The only possible exits were the featureless white doors that lined the corridor.

He tried a door at random. It was locked.

The next one along. Locked!

He whirled around, just in time to see one of the doors behind him blur and distort. A viscous liquid, like blue paint, began to bleed from the doorframe. It seeped across the whole door, covering it in a brilliant blue coat.

Charlie watched in awe as eight rectangular panels etched themselves into the woodwork. As soon as a pair of windows were emblazoned into the pattern, he laughed in delight. It was the TARDIS' door! The Doctor was trying to get him out.

Charlie barged through it, and found himself in a workshop. There were wooden benches scattered around the room, and a familiar smell of sawdust penetrated his nostrils.

Charlie grabbed a wrench from a row of tools lining the wall, arming himself as the avatar zombies poured into the room.

He swung at a balding man, but the wrench passed straight through him. Charlie was taken by surprise – his swing kept going and he lost his balance, sending him crashing into a cupboard.

An avatar – which he recognised as Willow – grasped his arm. Her grip was incredibly strong. He couldn't shake her free.

Several more hands grasped his body – his arm, his leg, his torso.

They were all muttering: 'disintegrate'. They began to pull him, dragging him back through the door. He tried to resist, but they were too strong. There were too many of them. His trainers scraped uselessly against the wooden floor.

The TARDIS door swung shut, and faded. It was replaced once more with a plain, white door.

As more of the avatars took hold of him, burying him, suffocating him, he began to itch. All over. His face itched. His arms, and legs, and back itched. Even his insides were itching. He wanted to scratch, but he couldn't move his arms.

"No!" yelled the Doctor, watching in horror as the orange specks swarmed around Charlie's blue dot.

"Fight them, Charlie! Fight them! Don't let them rewrite you."

He grappled furiously with a tangle of lines of code.

The Doctor growled through bared teeth: "If I can just…"

Willow's avatar leaned in to Charlie's ear, and whispered:

"What are you so afraid of, Charlie?"

Charlie tried to wrench himself away from her, but there were bodies all around him, pressing in from all sides.

"I think you've dreamed of this moment, haven't you?" Willow hissed. "The moment where I kill you?"

"Who are you?" gasped Charlie, fighting for breath.

"You don't know who I am?"

He couldn't respond. The avatars were crushing the air from him.

"I am Vyper," she spoke, barely a whisper. "I am your nightmares…"

Charlie gritted his teeth, trying to calm himself. There had to be a way to get out of the machine. A big red button with an 'X' on it.

If the Doctor could change the VR world, then surely, so could he. He was part of the system, after all. Perhaps if he just imagined an exit…?

He fought, and managed to tear his left hand free from an avatar's grasp. He forced his way through the crowd, and, fingers splayed, he thrust his hand out towards the wall. His teeth bared, he concentrated. There had to be a way out. He needed a way out.

He poured all his energy, all his emotion, into that thought. His frustration… his anger… and his fear.

A number of the avatars staggered away from him in disorientation, clearing his view of the wall.

A hairline crack spread down the wall. The line grew thicker, and wider – expanding more at the bottom of the wall.

He laughed with relief; mania, perhaps.

A black triangle ran from the floor to the ceiling. But it wasn't simply a shape. It was an illusion – a perspective illusion. It was not a flat image, but a path, extending into the distance over a blank void.

Breaking free of the avatars' grip, Charlie took a leap of faith, and began to run. He didn't know if they were following him. He didn't look back.

"I'm coming for you, Charlie," Willow called. "You can't escape from me."

The Doctor watched him in amazement; as lines of blue code rewrote the orange. He grinned.

"Ha! I'm a genius! And you!"

He threw his hands out in glee.

"So clever! So determined!"

The Doctor grabbed a strand of blue text in his fist, and whirled the sphere around.

"You've found an exit! All I need to do is copy that…"

The Doctor threw the lines towards the centre of the projection. The code began to replicate, unfurling and duplicating like strands of DNA.

He relaxed, and stood back to enjoy his handiwork. But it was not over yet.

Four of the black spheres ascended into view, distorting the hologram as they glided through it.

The Doctor backed away, delving into his pocket for the sonic screwdriver. The spheres hovered in front of him, watching patiently.

He glowered at each of them, and then laughed.

"Ah, but your programming's been rewritten, too. You don't have a reason to attack me. Now," he snapped his fingers, "take me to Charlie. I think you know where he is."

The spheres calculated their motion, and hovered into position – two at chest height, two resting on the floor.

The Doctor's face fell. "You can't be serious."

Rather reluctantly, the Doctor placed his boot on the top of the sphere, and carefully shifted his weight onto it, grabbing another sphere to balance himself. Placing his foot on the second droid, they took off, soaring between the rows of tanks.

The following few minutes were something of a blur for Charlie. He was vaguely aware of the sensation of water draining away, and the Doctor's bony hands hauling him out of the tank. His world was black.

"I can't see," he whined pathetically.

"Hold on a moment," urged the Doctor, tactlessly tapping the 'helmet'. There was a faint hiss, and the sphere removed itself.

Charlie squinted as the light from the recently illuminated chamber flooded into his eyes.

He tried to sit up, but didn't quite have the energy. There was a warm trickle down the side of his head, and a feeling of light-headedness began to consume him.

"Stay with me, Charlie."

He recognised the buzz of the Doctor's sonic screwdriver, and the flow stopped.

"I've cauterised the wound. You should be… good…"

The Doctor was distracted by a thumping sound. Someone was knocking from the inside of their tank.

Charlie stood up. He was feeling rather woozy. Head spinning, he staggered across the walkway to where the Doctor was extracting someone from the machine. Unlike him, this woman didn't have a sphere clamped around her head.

It took Charlie a moment to work out who she was.

It was a thirty- or forty-year-old woman. Her skin was wrinkled, and mottled with freckles. She didn't look familiar, but Charlie recognised her eyes. It was Willow.

She must have been in the Dreamer system for a long time - she looked so different from her virtual avatar.

"Willow!" he exclaimed. "You're still alive, and not a... psycho zombie."

Willow threw him a puzzled look.

"Of course she is," the Doctor explained. "I was able to hijack the virus, and spread the escape route you used."

"Thanks…" mumbled Willow, rubbing her head. "I feel terrible."

"Oh, you'll get used to it," the Doctor muttered with a smirk, "It's called reality."

The Doctor's grin dropped when he realised that no-one was amused by his witticism.

He addressed Willow. "You seem to be the first one out. I'm sure there'll be others. You'll be able to manage, won't you? The drones will help you out. They're quite friendly now."

He waved at one of the spheres, buzzing chirpily a few metres away.

"Um…" was the confused reply.

The Doctor whirled round, and muttered into Charlie's ear.

"Time to go, I think. I don't like hanging around."

The Doctor strode along the walkway, towards the doorway.

"No objections there."

Charlie cast a final look around, watching Willow, who was leaning against a railing nauseously. Charlie smiled, and jogged after the Doctor, who was waiting by the train. The Doctor attempted to offer him a reassuring grin.

Charlie smirked, and boarded the monorail.

A thought struck him, and he thrust his hand into his pocket. His phone was still there, of course. He checked it; there were no missed calls.

"Ah, yes. I had to shut the phone network down. So you won't get a signal here anymore. I can fix that for you, if you like," the Doctor offered, grabbing Charlie's phone, and thrusting the sonic screwdriver at it.

The Doctor gave his phone back, and Charlie quietly thanked him.

"Did anything… strange happen in there?" the Doctor asked, offhandedly.

"Lots of strange things happened in there. Why?"

The Doctor shrugged. "I was trying to locate the source of the virus, and…"

"And?"

The Doctor shrugged, peering through the grubby windows of the train.

"I couldn't find it."

Charlie nodded, wondering why the Doctor was bothering to tell him if he hadn't found something.

The Doctor shook his head. "I'm sorry. I should probably ask if you're okay?"

He paused, licking his lips for a moment, trying to tread carefully on a sensitive subject.

"You weren't, uh… mentally or emotionally scarred for life, or anything?"

The Doctor pierced him with a serious expression.

Charlie wasn't sure if he was deliberately being this direct, or if he had no awareness of how blunt his manner was.

"No, not particularly," Charlie answered, truthfully. "I was a bit concerned that I was gonna die, but other than that, no."

The Doctor nodded, satisfied.

It was incredible to think that just a few hours ago, he had run away in a time machine disguised as a blue box, with a complete stranger. He had already had a number of near-death experiences, but even then… he felt alive.

And the Doctor was probably mad, but he was amazing. And who in their right mind would turn down the chance to travel in time with him?

They left the train, and stood on the rooftop for a few minutes, watching the rising sun, as it bathed them in a warm, pink glow.

"The future's a scary place," Charlie mused conversationally.

"Change always is," the Doctor agreed.

"I think it'll turn out okay."

Charlie took in the light of the new dawn, and the Doctor clapped him gently on the shoulder.

He smiled as he watched Charlie, staring at the dazzling sunrise with wide eyes. He always forgot how people reacted when he showed them things beyond their comprehension.

And here was a teenager – a fairly ordinary seventeen year old human on first impression – so caught up in the anxieties of normal life, and yet! There was something else, something hidden deep in his eyes. A sadness, perhaps. It only showed when he thought no-one was watching him. The sadness reminded the Doctor of his own, ancient eyes – just a little.

"That's not a real sun, you know," the Doctor pointed out.

"You what?"

"It's an artificial sun," the Doctor revealed.

He frowned, catching Charlie's nonplussed expression. "Sorry. Did I just ruin the moment?"

Charlie nodded, screwing his face up in an estranged grin. "Yeah. Kinda."

The Adventure Continues...

The Twelfth Doctor and Charlie will return in: Imitation of Life. The Doctor and Charlie are caught up in a war involving intelligent robots.

Author's Notes:

Thank you for reading. I hope you'll consider checking out my other stories featuring the Twelfth Doctor.

A little more background on this story in case you're interested - Whilst writing it, I discovered the Doctor had already visited a planet called Solos, in the Third Doctor serial The Mutants. I probably should have just come up with a different name. But no – apparently it was more 'fun' to add this knowledge into the Doctor's explanation in those first chapters. Still, the universe is a big place.