"Found it," the Doctor called to him.
Charlie looked up, and realised that he was sitting in a field of tall grass, perched on the edge of a muddy bank.
A small stream, a couple of inches deep, trickled playfully over a pebbled basin.
Charlie ran his fingers through his hair as he tried to recall how he had arrived here.
And where were they now? This was always the problem with the Doctor – you were somewhere new every few days. Sometimes every couple of hours. Was this was an alien world, or somewhere on Earth? Charlie thought it best to ask, rather than keep wondering.
"We're on Earth," the Doctor answered, digging about in the river. "Not far from where you live."
The Doctor didn't notice Charlie's puzzled expression.
Really? Because Charlie didn't recognise this place.
Noticing the Doctor's boots, placed neatly side by side on the patch of flattened grass next to him, Charlie realised the Time Lord was standing in the stream, his trousers rolled up above his ankles.
The Doctor grabbed something, and splashed about, causing far more ripples in the water than Charlie would have thought necessary.
"Those Gumblejacks are always getting in the way."
"Gumblejacks?" Charlie questioned.
The Doctor paused, and considered this for a moment. "No, you're right. You don't get Gumblejacks in these parts."
The Doctor picked something out of the water, and sifted the clammy dirt through his fingers.
Then, he was by Charlie's side – on dry land, his palm outstretched.
"Found it," he said again. The Doctor's voice was harsh, serious.
Charlie's eyes almost popped out of his skull.
It couldn't be!
The Doctor was presenting that padlock key to him. The key to a box stored under his bed. The one that kept everything locked away.
"There," the Doctor growled, "Now you can tell me… everything."
"What…?"
Charlie looked up into the Doctor's wide, piercing eyes.
"Who's Nate?" he demanded.
The Doctor couldn't know. He was certain the Doctor wouldn't like it if he found out the truth.
"This can't be happening. This can't be real!"
It wasn't.
It was a dream. It was another dream.
Charlie's insides began to boil. He'd had enough of dreams. Dreams that lied. Dreams that tried to kill you. Dreams that showed him things that he really didn't want to see.
He stood up, ready to confront the Doctor – an action which lifted him out of the dream, and dropped him back into a seat in the TARDIS.
The Doctor was staring at him, his thick, grey brows contorted with worry.
"Another nightmare?"
"No," Charlie quickly responded. "Not really."
The Doctor pulled a face, indicating he didn't really believe him. His expression was so alien, Charlie had to look away.
"I'm just not sure what's real anymore."
"Aren't colours just different wavelengths of light?" the Doctor suggested brightly, "It's how your eye perceives it that determines what you see."
He frowned, peering into the pulsating Time Rotor. "Reality's just what your mind stitches together…" he muttered.
The words seemed familiar, but Charlie couldn't think who had said them.
He felt that this was something quite important – but couldn't recall what it might have been.
It was like one of those moments where you're in the middle of a sentence, and you can't think of the exact word you want to say. You end up staring blankly at whoever you were talking to, whilst your brain thumbs desperately through a thesaurus.
It was frustrating, so Charlie distracted himself by pulling out his phone.
There were a few notifications, indicating he'd missed a couple of calls. He showed it to the Doctor.
"Do you know this number?"
The Doctor glanced at it.
"Ah yes. It's Simmons'. You remember her - from UNIT? I tried to call you a couple of times when we were on the Moonbase."
Charlie rubbed his jaw. The adventure had seemed like it was so long ago.
"You weren't answering. I guess you were a little… tied up at the time," the Doctor quipped.
"Very funny," Charlie muttered cynically, recalling his incarceration in a cocoon of Arachnid webbing.
The Doctor was unable to contain his grin, and he started chuckling.
Despite everything, Charlie couldn't resist. The Doctor's laughter was weirdly contagious, and he found himself smiling too.
"Yes," the Doctor decided.
"What?"
"Yes, I've made up my mind," the Doctor muttered, diving into his jacket.
He pressed something into Charlie's palm. It was a key.
Charlie's stomach lurched, suddenly recalling that strange little dream.
It wasn't the key he had feared, but a TARDIS key.
"You've earned it," the Doctor said gently.
Charlie looked up at him in disbelief.
"Not many people get one of these, you know," the Doctor stated proudly. "Although, I always forget to ask for them back. Never seems appropriate. So I suppose there are quite a few knocking about."
Charlie couldn't stop staring at the key.
This meant… this meant… the Doctor actually wanted him to be here. He actually wanted Charlie to travel in the TARDIS with him.
The Doctor nudged him gently. "That means you're a full-time adventurer now. If you want the job…"
Charlie grinned, his mind reeling. What could he say to thank the Doctor? Thank him for taking him on this extraordinary adventure?
Nah… Charlie smiled wryly.
"I'm cool with that."
Author's Notes
The Twelfth Doctor and Charlie will return-
++INCOMING MESSAGE FROM: The Voice of Unreason++
Wait, you mean there's more? Haven't you had enough yet?
Author's Notes
Ah, this chap. The strange fictional character that's been invading all my Author's Notes sections. It's been incredibly distracting. It will of course stop existing now that this story's over.
The Voice of Unreason
What? No! Nooooo!
*Epic villain wail*
*Dissipates into nothingness*
Author's Notes
Yeah. Well, that was weird. It won't be happening again.
Anyways…
Thanks for reading and reviewing - it's always very much appreciated. I hope you'll continue to follow my Twelfth Doctor Adventures. I still have a few more stories for the Doctor and Charlie yet...