The Time of Change

Comes with the Territory

"Can you hear me?" calls a man's voice, garbled like he's underwater. "Listen to me. Can you hear what I'm saying?"

    My eyes flutter open, and immediately I'm resentful of the action. The dim light around me is a bit too much to handle. The large indistinct mass in front of me moves, its edges looking like wet ink someone rubbed their hand over. There is a pop of red color beneath what I assume to be its chin. While I could hear the first few words, I can't decipher what it's saying anymore. Everything's just incomprehensible noise. The blur speaking to me starts to sway along with the room, and I clamp my eyes shut again. My glasses are still on, so the side of them that is between me and the floor pinches my temple. Uncomfortable, I slowly shift onto my back when I hear a young voice exclaim, "She isn't dead!"

    The first voice sighs, relieved. "No, she isn't." It's an English voice, I realize now. I think hard about that red splotch I saw in its form, and my brain comes to a conclusion: Doctor. I chance to reopen my eyes, and this time the foyer stays stationary. I zero in on the Doctor; after a moment, his form clears up and sharpens. The concern on his face causes my heart to do a backflip. Comfort and a deep sensation of safety fills me to the brim at the sight of him, even in this state. Sitting beside him is Daniel, who also watches me apprehensively.

    "What happened?" I hear myself choke out. My breathing is deep and steady, but I can't seem to get enough air. A sliver of fear pricks at my stomach because the only thing that hit me was a bit of rock, so there is no reason for me to feel this weak.

    "I kept a hold on you," the Doctor tells me lowly. "You were touching Mrs. Ralph, and the Angel touched her, so by extension it should've sent you back as well. I grabbed hold of you before you got sucked into the vortex it opened. You can't do that," he admonishes in a tremulous fashion. I sit up, my eyes on his face. "You can't touch someone who's been chosen by an Angel. You'll both be gone. You have to promise me you won't do that again. Please don't. You came so close to... I almost..." He trails off, not meeting my gaze. I realize now that his hand has moved to cover my own, and I gently brush my thumb over his in reassurance. A small smile plays across his lips.

    "Where were they sent?" asks Daniel unexpectedly. I look at him. His eyes are still full of fear, his face pale and shoulders sagging. "Where are they, Mum and Dad? When will they come back?"

    I glance up at the Doctor. Tears build in my throat, and he meets my eyes with sorrow in his own. "Daniel... you remember how we said your sister couldn't return to this time?" he replies tentatively. Daniel nods. "Well, the same... the same goes for your parents. We just—we can't bring them back here. It isn't possible. I-I'm sorry."

    Daniel stares at his hands for a long minute. I can see his brilliant green irises, their vibrant pain so similar to the Doctor's, shaking from the effort of holding in his tears, and I touch his shoulder lightly. He looks at me through his bangs for a moment, and without warning, he falls into my arms and powerful sobbing overtakes him. I stroke his blonde hair and rock him back and forth.

Wildly, I wonder what will become of him. If we happen to figure out why the Angels are attacking and solve the mystery, what then? We certainly can't bring back his family, so where will he go? Is there anyone left to take him in? How will he explain what happened—that two strangers showed up on his doorstep, and suddenly everyone in his family had disappeared?

    And now it hits me.

This is our fault.

    It's my fault.

If I had just chosen a place instead of allowing the TARDIS to bring us somewhere random, we would have never been here. We would have never been the cause of Daniel losing everything he has ever known. We wouldn't have catalyzed a monumental shift in his world.