#anahson

“Who are you…?”

James and Alison stood there, wary of the woman in front of them. At least… they thought it was a woman. Whatever the entity was in front of them that blocked their way into the London backalley, it was old—so incredibly, terribly old—and yet it seemed almost Human. Not Gallifreyanoid, but actually Human like their mother.

“We’re just travelers,” James shrugged nonchalantly. “Our ship’s broken, but we know how to fix it, and will be on our way shortly after finding the parts.”

“You’re… familiar…”

“Well, our mum’s from the area, so maybe that’s it,” Alison quipped. She scanned the area quickly—it was definitely not the sort of place she wanted to be, but this Trap Street place was the best they could do for the parts they needed. There were too many beings simply roaming about for her comfort… too many things she was used to running away from. “Do you know where we can find some dimensional stabilizers and a few dozen flux bearings? We’re told this is the best shopping district around these parts.”

“Who is your mother?” the Entity’s Janus aide asked. It was another woman, old and wrinkled and austere. She approached the twins and stared at them critically, her front eyes narrowing in thought. “You are not of this place.”

“Doesn’t look like you are either, with all due respect ma’am,” Alison replied.

“We don’t want trouble,” James said cautiously. “It’s Mum’s birthday soon, in fact, and we’d rather get there before we need to travel too much temporally as well as dimensionally.”

“Then… you are not of this dimension…?” the aide mused. “Dimension-hopping is… difficult, even for the most advanced of technology.”

“Hence why we’re looking for replacement parts after ours decided against working,” Alison said. She locked eyes with the Entity and felt a chill go down her spine. Despite looking like a Human teenaged woman, there was something about this creature that was much, much more than that. “Please? I doubt we can get much further than Alpha Centauri, and everyone knows how dependent they are on basalic-state tech.”

“True…” the aide agreed. She seemed to be calculating the risks, though the Entity cut her off.

“Let them through, Anahson,” the Entity said. “They need to leave, and the only way to do that effectively is to let them get their stabilizers and bearings.”

“…but…!”

“Let them through.”

The aide pursed her lips and took a step back, bowing her head slightly. “Welcome to Trap Street, where the cast-aside come to survive.”

After giving their own shallow bows, the twins stepped around the Entity and her aide. walking uncomfortably down the street. They took a look at the shop fronts and began their search, ducking into the most promising place first.

“Yikes—tension out there is incredible,” James grimaced. “I wonder why that is.”

“She doesn’t scare me,” Alison scoffed. She picked up a proton haltoc from a shelf and examined it before placing it back down again. “Whomever that is, she’s not exactly subtle about the fact we’re not wanted here. There’s been worse.”

“It’s like we’ve found the only street in London where there’s only one Human, and she so happens to be a creepy immortal… somehow…” James caught the antennae-sporting shopkeeper staring at them, which caused him to raise an eyebrow in response. “Is everything alright? Are we allowed to touch?”

“Yeah, you can touch stuff on the sales floor,” the shopkeeper confirmed. “Sorry for staring, just, I feel like I’ve seen you both before, though we don’t get many Humans in here aside from the Mayor.”

“Half,” James corrected. “Our mum’s Human, but our dad just looks it.”

“Never did understand that,” the shopkeeper frowned, shaking his head. “So many people come to this planet just to mate with the women. It’s not to say none of those couples aren’t happy and meant from each other… but… Human women…”

“At least we know we’re in good company,” Alison said. She placed some items on the counter and made her way further into the shop. “How long has it been since regular, non-mayoral, Humans were here? Strangers?”

“I’d say about a hundred-fifty years,” the shopkeeper replied. “The Mayor was pulled into a Time Lord vendetta and ended up killing the Doctor’s mate.” He watched as the twins’ body language began to tense. “So then, you at least know of the Time Lords and the Doctor in your dimension.”

“Let’s just say it’s a bit of a legend,” James said, trying to brush off his clear terror. “The Doctor’s had many mates though, yeah? That doesn’t exactly narrow it down.”

“One of the few that the Time Lords themselves went after,” the shopkeeper explained. “I don’t know why, nor how, but this mate was so dangerous to the Time Lords that they went and tricked her into offering her own life to save another.”

“I wonder which one that was,” Alison chuckled. “I imagine the Doctor went on a rampage.”

“When the Mayor unleashed the Chronolock on Clara Oswald, it meant that the Doctor had ceased to be,” the shopkeeper said gravely. “I had only taken refuge here twenty years at that point, and the sight was a terrifying one. One of the last things you want to do is get involved with Time Lords, and the very last thing would be to anger the Doctor so much that there is no more Doctor.” He looked at his customers and couldn’t help feel but a bit suspicious. “Is this not one of the legends in the dimension you are from?”

“The Doctor is still a being to fear, but not entirely in the same way,” James stated. He found the bearings they needed and placed them with the rest of his sister’s finds. “How much for the lot?”

Blinking with eyelids that went sideways, the shopkeeper tilted his head as he examined James’s face. His skin tinged in blue, which was what the twins figured was possibly his version of going pale.

“You are the Doctor’s children,” he marveled. “You are the prophesied Hybrids that the Time Lords wanted to prevent.”

“Looks like they did a better job of that in this dimension than in our native one,” Alison said. She then gestured to their purchase. “How much?”

“Take it,” the shopkeeper said, shaking his head. “It’s been collecting dust anyhow.” He looked at James and Alison’s eyes intently as they packed up their items. “You have Clara Oswald’s eyes.”

“We have a lot more of Mum than just her eyes,” Alison said. The two were almost ready to leave when the shop door opened and the Entity’s aide came into the shop, her front face set in concern. “Yes…?”

“Is it true?” the aide asked. “Are you really them?”

“The Hybrid Prophesy Foretold?” Alison grinned. “Yeah. We’re that in our dimension, at least.”

“Then let me get you out of here,” the aide decided. She looked at the shopkeeper and glared. “Not a word of this to the Mayor.”

“Only on pain of the Quantum Shade will she get this out of me,” he assured. He paused for a moment and grimaced. “So your abilities weren’t acting up.”

“I now wish they really had been.” The aide began to rush the twins towards the back of the shop, making sure they stayed out of sight. “You know of my kind’s ability to see the future, correct?”

“Yeah, but…!” Alison started.

“I saw you back then, when your mother was here,” the aide stated. They were fully in the back storeroom when she stopped, the three of them surrounded by shelves upon shelves of salvaged and new space-parts. “I saw two futures: one where she died there on the street—the one I thought was to be the end-all—and one where she lived long enough to convince a being as terrifying and all-powerful as the Doctor to father her children.” She paused, examining both of them. “I thought there’d be three of you.”

“We were supposed to have a younger brother, if it’s any consolation,” James shrugged. He knew that it normally was not his place to say, yet in this dimension… it felt like nothing was off-limits. “If you’re so afraid, then why are you helping us?”

“In this dimension, the Time Lords killed Clara Oswald so that her children would never be born, the Hybrid Prophesy never fulfilled, their civilization never threatened. If they find out you still exist, despite it all, then it would spell certain disaster for us all. It would not surprise me if they are on their way over here right now.”

“Then let’s not waste this kindness,” Alison decided. The aide helped them slip out the back of the shop and make their way back towards the main road. By the time they were outside of the Trap Street’s perception filter, the aide pulled up a head scarf over her second face, making it appear as though she was wearing a normal—though loose—Earthen hijab.

“How is your ship cloaked?” the aide asked.

“Usually it looks like our parents’ ship, for the most part, but the Chameleon Circuit is on the fritz,” Alison said. The three found the TARDIS in-question, slipping past a street full of busy Londoners into the abandoned frontage of a kitsch Americana diner. They went into the “kitchen”, only for a console room to open up. While the siblings went to quickly swap out the parts they needed in and under the main console, the aide looked about curiously.

“It’s… spacious,” she said. “Are all Time Lord children in your dimension gifted a TARDIS upon your coming-of-age?”

“Made Da proud and nicked it,” Alison snickered, heading down to the service level with the bearings.

“We didn’t exactly grow up very Time Lord,” James clarified. “You might be surprised at the things we were able to pick up from our parents or on our own.” He did not waste any time and pulled a stabilizer out of the console, tossing it aside before attempting to secure the replacement. “Taking off with junker vehicles is sort of a family past-time.”

“So then you’re all car thieves.”

“In all fairness, the ships ask to be taken,” he shrugged. He squirmed out from underneath the console and scooted over, edging his way underneath another panel. “Cars don’t exactly have that going for them.”

“What about KITT?” Alison asked, her voice filtering up from underneath the floor.

“If you want a bloody AI car to live out a Knight Rider fantasy, then do it yourself,” James scoffed. The aide raised an eyebrow, curious about their conversation. “We can just go meet Richard Basehart. I know you wouldn’t mind meeting Richard Basehart. You’re allowed to have a crush on Richard Basehart.”

“I will end you!” Alison snarled, poking her head over the edge of the floor for only a moment before disappearing again. The aide looked about in confusion.

“What is a Richard Basehart?”

“More like Richard Baehart, I guess, according to my sister…”

“I say one thing once and it’s like it never leaves your brain! You act like I’m always saying it!”

Just then, the sound of the front door bell chimed a bunch of times in a row, causing James to grimace and work faster. “They’re trying to get in! Charlie Jo’s holding them best she can!”

“Then get the stabilizers in!”

“I’m trying!” He shifted over to shimmy underneath a third panel. The aide looked from the “kitchen” door, to James, and back.

“What about me?”

“Let’s get out of harm’s way first, then see,” he replied. He had to smack the corner of the stabilizer a couple times with the palm of his hand for it to click into place, but he did it—the damn thing fit. “Oi, you done down there?!”

There was a large ka-chunk noise and Alison let out a satisfied noise. “Thunderbirds are go!”

“Then get up here and help me get this thing off the planar coordinate!” He stood and began to fiddle with the controls, with the Janus only able to watch in confusion. Once Alison was up the stairs and at the console, the siblings went and quickly went into drive-mode, flinging them into the time vortex and away from their potential pursuers. They looked at each other and, after a moment, laughed.

“What is funny…?” the aide asked.

“Nothing—that was just a lot of fun,” Alison beamed.

“Fun…? How was that fun…?”

“The thrill of the chase and all that,” James shrugged. He pulled over a monitor and showed the Janus CCTV of the front door: Time Lords, and they did not look very pleased. “Dad’s people are a bit of a nasty bunch and it’s always satisfying to stay a step ahead.”

“This still does not rectify the fact I am no longer in London,” the aide scowled. “I am Anahson of Trap Street—I am duty-bound to my fellow outcasts!”

“Don’t worry, we’ll get you back soon as we get them to lose our tail,” James said. He walked over towards the door and gestured for her to enter the outer sanctum again. She did cautiously, seeing that while the vortex swirled and ebbed outside the windows and door, the diner seemed untouched by the temporal anomaly they were currently part of. James went behind the service counter, while Alison and Anahson sat down.

“Welcome to our TARDIS,” the younger woman beamed. “It stands for Time And Relative Dimensions In Space—our niece named it, though not entirely sure as to how. We just call her Charlie Jo though… it just works.”

“I’m James Oswald-Smith, and this AI with mental capacity stripped while maintaining ship functions is my sister Alison. We are, as you know, not exactly of this dimension…”

“...except now we’re stuck here until we can get the Time Lords off our backs, which shouldn’t be difficult since that’s not something we’re new to,” Alison said. “I think if we do a quick lap of the terracycle, hide out for a couple weeks in an inconspicuous space-time coordinate, then we can bring you back to the Trap Street and we can get on our merry way.” Her brother placed two milkshakes on the counter and she made a pleased noise. “What do you think?”

“I’m lactose-intolerant,” Anahson frowned.

“Milk-substitute—oat, I think,” James said. He took his own from the back counter and sipped at it casually as he leaned against the brushed steel surface, settled between the milkshake machine and the fryer. “All of time and space: where would you like to go?”