Merry Christmas, everyone! Hope you enjoy the Runaway Bride!

Sorry this took so long, you know the drill. Work, work, work...etc. I couldn't resist a little nod to the Sylvester McCoy years, so I hope that's alright.

How to save a life

Chapter 3

The Doctor slid the key into the TARDIS main doors, frowning away to himself, seemingly oblivious to the world around him. He hadn't let on to Jenny, but being here unnerved him. Not that he didn't love trouble, but he didn't like this sort of trouble. Something about it put him on edge. It didn't feel right. Maybe it was just his uncanny ability to get himself into scrapes (Sometimes he wondered if the TARDIS did it on purpose) or maybe it was the damage done to the TARDIS. Either way, it made his hair stand on end.

There were scorch marks across the control panel that he hadn't noticed before. He gritted his teeth and ran his hand over them, gently feeling the damage. "Never mind, you," he told her, placing a wide grin across his face; he darted round to the battered chair on the other side, where the screen was. "We'll soon have you running span and spick, rain as right, come on!" He frowned, thinking about what he'd just said. He hadn't got his words mixed up like that for a while, now.

He gave the screen a small tap. It clicked itself to life, as it usually did. The picture flickered, buzzed, and then gave way to zig-zaggy lines across the screen, telling him that it needed to be tuned. Odd, as it had been working fine before they'd left. Sighing, he reached for his pocket, before remembering that his screwdriver was broken, and Jenny had the other one. He'd forgotten that there had been an energy wave strong enough to crash the TARDIS and break the sonic. And the TARDIS knew he'd forgotten.

"Alright, I'm sorry." He lamented, aloud. "I should have known you're not at your best and not to expect too much from you. But you know there's something seriously not right here, so please, please, put the screen back on?"

There was silence for a moment, then, with a soft moan from the TARDIS, the zig-zags disappeared, to show a clear diagram of the Time Vortex. "Thanks for that," he smiled, cheerily, pulling his glasses out of his pocket; he leant in to get a closer look at what she was showing him. "No…" he said, quietly. "That's not right. That is not right at all". He did a little tapping on the picture moved it about a bit, a deeps frown creasing his forehead. He stared at the screen for a second, his mind taking a moment to register exactly what was on the screen. When it finally did, the frown uncreased itself and he swore very loudly in Gallifreyan. "That," he said, breathlessly, staring wide-eyed at the screen. "Is indeed, very, very wrong".

The TARDIS moaned in agreement

"What's wrong with this staircase?" I asked, looking up at Andrew curiously with my head on one side. With a sigh, his shoulders stiffened as he turned to look at me.

"There's nothing wrong with it. Why is there something wrong with it?" he snapped, the impatience clear in his voice.

"I dunno," I shrugged, pouting a bit. "It just…doesn't feel right. It doesn't feel safe. Like..." I trailed off, unsure how to finish. "It's probably nothing," I decided, carrying on up the stairs. "Are we going or what?"

"Yeah, sure. If we can actually get a chance to move," he replied, raising an eyebrow pointedly. I rolled my eyes. So far I had stopped us four times, once to take a look at a beautiful tapestry in the front room, what I made a mental note to get a better look at later when we had the time, and twice to take a look round the gigantic library, which had two doors leading to it. I had to wonder what dad's reaction would be to the hundreds of books. He'd probably grin a lot, to a bit of giggling, and have a nervous breakdown. Well, it had to happen sometime.

"How much further up is it, anyway? Christ, your house is big!" I exclaimed, for what must have been the sixth time. He nodded impatiently, as we made our way up the wooden staircase.

"You get used to it. Her bedroom's right on the top floor. It's the most secure place in the house. We've had to keep her there since…" he trailed off, bushing as though he'd said too much. "Anyway," he went on, as the stairs came to an end, giving way to a dark corridor. "Her room's right at the end".

"Is it always this dark?" I asked, uneasily, glancing into one of the rooms and trying to make it out in the shadows. Outside it could only have been about three in the afternoon, and although it was clearly still brightly sunny through the window, the room, and, as I saw glancing through some of the other doors, all the other rooms as well, was dark, as though it was night. "Or cold?" I gave a shiver to prove my point. The temperature had dropped by several degrees.

"No," he breathed, frowning, his breath steaming up in the air. I nodded to myself. Typical. I had a feeling that might be his answer.

"I think we'd better get a—" I was cut off by a loud shriek from the end of the corridor.

Andrew's face went deathly pale. "Maria," I heard him mutter, and before I even had time to react, he was speeding down the corridor, and pulling on the door knob of a large, oak door. "It's locked!" he shouted as I caught up with him, panting.

"Where's the key?" I asked urgently.

For a moment he looked lost. "She keeps it with her all the time," he told me, breathlessly. "That's the only one".

"Ok, move over," I said, shoving my hand in my pocket and moving him to the side, as another scream issued from the room. "Frequency, frequency…" I muttered, fiddling with the screwdriver. Andrew gave me a suspicious look as I gave it a quick test.

"What the hell is that?"

"Just trust me," I said, and held it up to the key hole, I pressed down and counted, slowly. "…2…3…4…5…6…7…8," I jumped backwards, pushing Andy to the side as the lock literally exploded, sending sparks everywhere. A second later he'd kicked the door open.

"Maria?" He shouted, looking all round the pitch-dark room, which was even darker than the others. The window was wide open.

"I'm here!" she called out from the corner. He bent down and for a moment he vanished out of sight, I had to strain my eyes to see where he went. I took a careful step towards the door. Other than the deep black, the place looked safe enough. I was about to step right inside when I heard a noise, almost like a…whoosh. A second later, I was forced back into the corridor wall, cracking my head against it as something hit me full on in the stomach. Only it didn't hit me, as such, it went through me. And it was ice cold.

I lay there for a moment, trying to remember where I was. And who I was. I suddenly doubled over; choking and retching, feeling like my insides had frozen solid. I had an urgent need to be sick. Lights seemed to be flashing in front of me a blinding burning pain behind my eyes and a loud, high-pitched screeching ran through my ears and, seemingly, my soul. I was aware of someone holding my hand as I writhed on the floor.

And then it all just stopped, as soon as it had begun. I sat up to find Andrew crouch beside me, a concerned look on his face, holding his sister behind him, protectively. "Jenny? You alright?"

Resisting the urge to make a sarcastic comment, I looked past him into the room, which was now suddenly filled with bright sunlight from outside and swallowed. "I'm fine." I said, breathlessly, standing carefully, testing myself and finding nothing wrong. "I'll tell you what, though," I said matter-of-factly, shaking as I stood staring down the corridor at where the…thing, whatever it had been, has gushed off. "This house definitely isn't".