Author: Zalia Chimera zalia
Rating: PG-13 for this chapter. Will most likely go up.
Pairings: None yet. Will eventually have EdxRoy and some others.
Warnings: AU. Bad language. Violence. The occasional bout of bad sci-fi (if you've seen Doctor Who, you will understand). Englishness.
Notes: Okay, this is a fusion of Fullmetal Alchemist and Doctor Who, although you don't really need to have seen Doctor Who to understand this fic. I'm just picking and choosing bits of both series that I like and making a lot up myself. Some chapters will be based on episodes of the TV series, some will be entirely made up.
If you want to know more about Doctor Who (and see a picture of the Tardis...) I suggest these sites:
Summary: Roy's day was going just fine until the mannequins tried to kill him.
Many thanks go to shido for poking me into writing it and for spellchecking and for kytyngurl2 for betaing for me ^_^
Hope you enjoy!
The alarm had gone off a while ago but it was far too warm to move. He knew, in a sort of distant fuzzy way that there was a reason why he should be getting up, but the warm and the soft seemed so much more important at the moment.
"Roy?" Someone muttered close to his ear. The words were accompanied by a poke in the ribs. He waves a hand absently at the voice. "Go 'way. Busy." There was a moment of silence and he relaxed a little until the voice spoke again. "Ummm, Roy. Don't you have to work today?"
Roy Mustang sat bolt upright and grabbed his alarm clock. He stared uncomprehendingly at the time for a long moment and then swore. He hurled himself out of bed and started dragging on his clothes as quickly as he could. He cast a glare at his room mate. "Why the fuck didn't you wake me earlier, Fury?"
Fury sighed and held out a mug of coffee with a long suffering expression. Roy grabbed the mug and started gulping it down as he looked for his car keys. "Dammit," he mumbled between sips. "Where the hell did I put them?" There was another sigh from Fury and the keys were pressed into his hand. "Go, or you'll make me late too."
"Thanks Fury," he mumbled and dropped his mug into the sink as he ran to the door.
Roy looked up from unpacking another box of black nail polish and was met with a friendly smile that could only mean that his co-worker wanted something. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "What do you want?"
A brown envelope was thrust into his hands. "Would you take that to the caretaker for me? It's the lottery money for this week."
Roy sighed and pushed it back. "No. It's your turn."
The girl pouted. "But Rooooy! You know I hate going down there. It's creepy! Besides, I want to get off on time tonight. Going out."
Roy rolled his eyes and sneered. "Off to see another second rate band who think they're Black Sabbath all over again?"
The girl thumped him playfully on the shoulder. "I'll never understand why you work here. You don't like the music, the clothes, the make-up. Anything."
Roy shrugged and grabbed the envelope from her, knowing that he'd end up doing it anyway. "It pays decently enough until I find a proper job." He stuffed the envelope into his pocket and stood. "Fine. I'll take it. You go. I'll lock up." He endured a hug from the girl and a stream of nonsense exclamations before pushing her away and forcing her to the exit. He quickly finished putting out the nail polish and grabbed the keys, starting the process of locking up the shop.
The cellar of the building was a mass of corridors and store rooms and there were always a few lightbulbs broken, leaving it dark enough to cast sinister shadows across the walls. And of course, every shop in the place used it as their personal dumping ground so there was always the danger of tripping over a box of forgotten comics or the dismembered corpse of a shop dummy. Then of course you'd break your neck against the thick stone walls and die a painful death without anyone ever realising you were there until some customer wanted something brought out of storage and they found your rotting corpse.
Well, maybe not. Roy still thought that they should just gut the whole cellar, historic building or not. It was creepy and he avoided going down there if he possibly could. He just managed to stop himself jumping in fright when he heard a skittering noise behind him. Probably a rat. Just a rat. Of course in a city like Leeds, who knew what size rats grew to? He cursed his overactive imagination which was conjuring up images of rottweiler sized rats with blood soaked fangs and knocked sharply on the door to the caretaker's room.
He sighed and knocked again, louder this time but there was still nothing. "Hello!" he called, trying the door handle. Locked apparently. Strange. The door was never locked unless the caretaker was out and it wasn't late enough for him to have gone home yet.
He glared at the door as though that would somehow make it open, and shoved his hands into his pockets, fingering the envelope. Oh well. If the old git wasn't there, then he wasn't going to hang around waiting. He started to turn and then shrugged. He had the key, might as well use the service entrance. Saved him walking back up all those stairs.
Roy shuddered as he entered the store room where they kept the mannequins that weren't in use. Overactive imagination again. He couldn't help it. They looked like corpses standing, lying and hanging there and in the dark. It was so easy to see them move. He took a breath and headed onwards, half regretting his choice to go the shorter way.
There was a clang of metal meeting metal and he spun around, heart beating just a little faster. He took a step towards where the sound had come from, peering into the half light. He gave a nervous laugh when he realised that it had just been the door shutting. Must have been a draft of something. He carefully avoided thinking about the fact that the door was far too heavy for a simple draft to blow shut.
He ignored the sounds he heard at first, the little rustles and creaks, like new plastic unfolding. Rats he told himself. Just rats.
He froze at the clear sound of a footstep behind him. That definitely was not a rat. "Hello?" he whispered, trying to fill the silence with his weak voice. "Who's there?"
Another footstep and Roy felt anger starting to build. "Look! If you're trying to scare me, it isn't working." He forced the words, out, filling them with all his frustration and annoyance. He didn't like being played with. With a growl he turned around, intending to give the prankster his opinion on their absolutely fucking hilarious joke.
The blank face of a mannequin met him and a scream bubbled in his throat.
And the whole room was moving now, pale grasping plastic hands reaching for him and clawing at him and all he could do was stand there, frozen in terror until some instinct broke in and told him to fucking run, idiot.
The room seemed suddenly much bigger than it had been and all he could see were empty faces and clawed hands and the fucking exit was too far away and oh Christ he was going to die and there were too many of them, too many of them all converging by the exit ready to tear him apart and he couldn't help but imagine how painful that would feel. He could feel their hands on him as he moved, wrapping in his clothes and hair and he could feel their fingers start to dig through his skin and he couldn't break away from the grips on his body.
Electric blue light flared and he blinked into it, still trying desperately to reach the exit. The light cleared and he felt that the grips the... the things had on him had loosened slightly, fingers gone slack. He took the tiny chance presented to him and jerked forwards... if he could just make it to the next room...
He had to force down the urge to scream again when a hand fell onto his shoulder. He was dragged quickly towards the wall and then through a door. A door he knew had not been there before. The blue light flared again and when it faded the door was gone, replaced with plain grey concrete. A person was leaning against the wall, gloved hands pressing against it. The person slowly turned, giving Roy a good look at annoyed gold eyes and a tangle of blond hair.
"You," the person growled, "are an idiot."
Roy could only stare for a moment, mouth open in absolute bafflement. He could feel the walls of reality finish crumbling around him. Finally, he managed to stutter out "What?".
The blond rolled his eyes and stalked towards him, long red coat flaring out behind him as he walked. "I said, you're an idiot."
Roy regained his composure enough to start feeling annoyed. "I heard that," he said, sarcasm tinging his voice. "Would you mind telling me what the fuck is going on?!" His voice cracked a little at the end and he could still feel his heart pounding heavily in his chest. The blond smirked up at him and then turned on his heel, heading away down the dark corridor. "Later. We should leave here first, unless you want them to find you again. I'm sure they'd love to make that wound worse."
Roy stared after him for a moment, wondering what he was talking about and then glanced down at his shirt. His eyes widened. Blood. And quite a lot of it. Those... those things must have done more damage that he'd thought and he'd been too full of adrenaline to notice until the blond pointed it out.
"Well?" the other man called to him. "Hurry up or I'm leaving you to die."
Roy cast a nervous glance to the wall where there should have been a door. He could hear scratching and moaning sounds coming from the other side. Screw it. If it was a choice between following the short blond guy and waiting until those creatures found a way through to him... well... he wasn't stupid.
He took off quickly, following the sight of the bright red coat.
The blond was fiddling with the controls of the goods lift when Roy caught up to him, ignoring completely the noises drifting from along the corridor, the sounds that made Roy's blood go cold. He bolted to the back of the lift, pressing himself back against the wall as though it would protect him. The blond ignored him and continued playing with the control panel as though all was right in the world.
"What the hell are you doing?" Roy snapped. "Let's go!"
The blond turned and shot him an icy glare, then shrugged casually. "It's broken. They must have smashed the panel earlier."
He turned back to the panel, but froze for a moment, staring into the darkness. "And we have company."
Roy followed the line of the blond's gaze. "Bugger."
Bodies of pale plastic were shuffling steadily closer.
Roy darted forwards and grabbed the handle of one of the metal doors to the lift. He tugged it sharply and cursed when it didn't move. Damn. He recalled suddenly that they hadn't been using the lift because of the jammed door. He rounded on the blond. "Help!"
The blond looked up at him and then back down at what he was working on. "No point. They'll be through it in a minute. Close the cage doors instead so the lift will move."
Roy found himself nodding and obeying without question, something in the other man's tone of voice brooked no arguments. He slid the cage doors across the lift entrance and jammed down the bolts. He clenched his fingers in the wire mesh and bit his lip until blood flowed. They were only a few metres away now. He moved behind the blond, watching over his shoulder and willing him to get the damn machine to work.
He jumped when the first mannequin crashed against the cage doors and pressed himself against the back wall again, as far from the grasping hands as he could get. Plastic faces pressed against the wire, blank eyesockets seeming to stare. He could see blood across some of them and understood with terrible clarity what had happened to the caretaker... what had nearly happened to him.
The first hand smashed through the wire just as the blond hissed in pleasure and the lights of the control panel blinked on. The blond smashed one hand against the up button and the lift slowly started to rise. Some of the arms still stubbornly clutched on though, still ripping at the wire. The lift shuddered, pausing for a long moment and Roy could only hold his breath, praying... and then it moved again, tearing away from the creatures. There was a sickening tearing sound and Roy looked down just in time to see one remaining arm be torn away from it's owner.
It was still moving.
Before it could do anything, the blond lifted one booted foot and stamped down onto it hard, watching the fingers writhe beneath the sole with a satisfied smirk. He looked up and grinned fiercely at Roy. "Tracking device," he said, as though that explained everything.
The lift stopped on the ground floor in the stock office. Roy stumbled out to lean against the wall, breathing heavily. The blond stooped to pick up the still twitching arm, resting it against his shoulder casually and following Roy at a much more sedate pace. He lay one hand against Roy's shoulder and the first glimpse of sympathy passed over his face. "I know this is a lot to take in, but I need you to trust me once more."
Roy stared at him blankly and the other man patted his shoulder comfortingly then lifted his sleeve to reveal a thin silver bracelet. He tapped a button on the bracelet and a screeching sound filled the room combined with flashing blue lights. Roy gulped and turned to wonder what new horror he was about to face.
He blinked. And again. He rubbed his eyes roughly and blinked once more to confirm that he was actually seeing this.
A blue 1960's police box.
He closed his eyes for a long moment, trying to convince himself that he was actually hallucinating.
No. The police box was still there.
The blond just smirked at him and wrenched open the door of the box. "Come on."
"Eh... in there?" Roy managed to sputter, mind drifting too easily to the creatures on the floor below which were probably already climbing the stairs towards them. "Shouldn't we be getting out?"
The other man grinned. "This is our way out. Come on." He disappeared inside. Roy shrugged to himself and found himself following the blond once more. He tried not to think about how crowded it would be inside the box.
He was wrong.
Somehow, he had no idea how, the inside was huge. Enormous. It defied all the laws of physics but Roy was starting to think that the normal laws of reality didn't apply any more. He stared around himself for a long moment, forgetting about everything else except what was around him. Wires and pipes twisted around the room like vines, all coiling to meet at one central pillar where the blond man stood. He flash Roy and smile and then twisted a dial on the pillar. "Close the door then."
Roy absently turned and pulled the door closed, still staring about himself in amazement.
"Impressive, isn't it?"
Roy pulled himself together enough to nod and walk over to the other man. He rested one hand against a panel and sighed heavily. "Look," he said softly, trying to untangle the strings of thought crowding his mind, "what the hell were those things? What is this place?" The words came out in a jumble and he reached up to rub his forehead. "Who are you?
The lights dimmed for a moment and then went back to normal and the blond made a satisfied sound. He walked around to pillar to stand next to Roy. "I'm the Doctor."
Roy raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you a little young to be a doctor?"
The blond gave him an annoyed frown. "Not a doctor. The Doctor."
Roy rolled his eyes. "Oh, of course. Because that makes it all so much clearer!"
"You must be feeling better if you can be sarcastic," the blond muttered. "As for your other questions, this is my ship, the Tardis and those things..." He paused, a look of deep concentration on his face. "Those things were dolls. Soulless, mindless dolls animated using alchemy."
"Alchemy?" Roy scoffed. "There's no such thing."
The Doctor gave him a scornful glance. "A little over a century ago and people would have said that flight was impossible for humans, and look at you now. It's all a matter of perspective."
"But nothing. You saw those things. Look at your chest." He gestured to the scratch across Roy's torso that was still bleeding sluggishly. "You think that was a dream? An illusion?"
Roy shook his head fiercely. Those things... dolls, had been too real, too vicious and terrifying to be a dream. And he had the wounds to prove it.
The Doctor smirked, seeing the acceptance cross Roy's face. "Figured it out yet? Or is your tiny human mind too useless to take it all in?"
"I believe you," Roy muttered grudgingly. He wasn't sure he actually did believe the guy, but it was the only explanation forthcoming at the moment and being rational hadn't worked.
The 'Tardis' shook and Roy clutched a pipe to maintain his balance until it stopped. "Was that them?" He asked, fear creeping into his mind again.
The Doctor shook his head. "I doubt they'll have come this far." He walked over and slid the door open. "Nope."
Hesitantly, Roy crossed the room to join him. He stared out uncomprehendingly for a moment and then shook his head. "No. I don't know. I don't care." He stepped out of the Tardis, pulled the key from his pocket and opened the door to his flat. He glanced back at the Doctor. "Coffee?"