#prisoner zero

Target's still locked on. Every second is another bit of entropy, introducing more room for error in getting back there before that thing gets someone hurt, or --

No. No, we can stop that right there.

Bolts out the door, and realizes very quickly that something's different. It's warmer than it was, for one thing. Gotten it wrong.

Up to the front, and before he can even reach for his screwdriver to open the door, someone's there. A dark-haired woman, looking him up and down with curiosity and… something a little concerned. --Well, I was a bit of a mess, at that point.

"Are you… the Doctor?" she asks.

"Oh! Yes. Hello." Listen to me. There is something very dangerous inside this house. You need to let me in right now, and stay outside until I'm done -- except that's not what comes out of his mouth. Feels himself reach into the wrong pocket, and pull out the psychic paper. Like he's on autopilot, not even thinking. Faster than thought. Why is he doing that? That's odd. New. He doesn't like it. --Wait. "…How did you know?"

"Well, they said you were coming. A little later than I thought, but they never did tell me what time to expect you. --Amelia will be home from school soon, so we won't have much time for the initial stuff, but you'll get to meet her, at least." She holds out a hand. "I'm her aunt. Sharon. You're the second one they've sent."

Oh, that's funny. How many psychiatrists did Amy say? Four? Wouldn't have known it then, but… sure, let's run it anyway. "What happened to the last one?"

"She uh… Well, Amelia bit her."

"Nothing I haven't seen before. But they didn't tell me much about her, y'know. Busy schedule, short notice, on account of the…" The multi-form hiding in the walls of that house. Which she doesn't know about, and you need to get her out of, right now. What the hell are you doing? No more small talk -- I have to get inside. "…Biting."

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Prisoner Zero knows he's there, of course. It had known, when this had really happened. He could feel it then. Poking. Prodding.

And he feels it now, too -- trying to figure out what he is, what he knows, what he wants. Easy enough to block out, to put up a wall and make himself a psychic black box. A more focused version of the thing he already does on reflex. Keeps him invisible, when he wants to be. Makes sure he doesn't scare the locals too much.

But now…?

Nah. Not this time.

A screen, then, rather than a wall. Just enough that it can sense him. Just enough to tell it exactly what he is.

"Right. Sharon! How old is this house?"

"Fifty years or so, I think. I could check the paperwork." Sharon shrugs. "Why?"

"You think? Now, that's interesting. Perception filter, all around this place. Keeps you from seeing that anything's off. Keeps you from noticing the elephant -- sorry, multi-form -- in the room." But perception filters don't work as well on children. They don't have the mental framework of normal just yet, haven't learned that grown-up habit of rationalizing everything away. So maybe… "Amelia, how many rooms are there on this floor?"

"Five," she answers. She points them out, one by one -- her gaze flickering over the hidden door for just a second. "Easy."

"No, see, you've just…"

But maybe that was never the right question.

"...I'm going to ask you to do something that might be a little scary, in a second." No, don't lie to her. "Okay, a lot scary. But you are clever, and very, very brave. It's gonna be hard, but I know you can do it. Promise me you'll try."

She nods.

"Okay. Good." Gets down on her level, holds her steady. This is going to be hard, but maybe if he just nudges her a little, she'll see it. "Close your eyes. Think about what it's like, moving around the house in the dark. From your room, down to the kitchen. All the things you have to avoid bumping into. You do it without thinking, but I need you to think about it now. How many doors are there?"

Amelia's face scrunches up, all those little gears turning. Counting. "No."

"Come on, Pond. You promised." He squeezes her hand gently. You can be scared. But you have to be brave. Just for a second. "How many doors?"

"Six." Opens her eyes, on the verge of tears, glancing back over her shoulder. "Is there something in there? Is it a monster?"

"No. Yeah. Sort of. --Hey. Look at me." Turns her face toward his. It's alright. I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere. Not this time. Not ever. "I'm not gonna let it hurt you. You know that, right?"

Amelia smiles a little. Shaky, but that's okay.

Ruffles her hair, stands up. Something dares him to do the impossible, as his gaze fixes on that door behind her. Something wild, a different kind of reckless. One he might even get used to.

If I find that you've done anything at all to this little girl, whoever's looking for you will be kind in comparison. Whatever you are… you should understand that.