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sparrow015Title: Are You There Rassilion? It’s Me, Peter Tork.
Series: TARDIS Series-P(rototype)
Author: Sparrow
Fandom: The Monkees, Doctor Who
Characters: Peter, Mike, Davy, Micky
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I in no way own The Monkees or Doctor Who, I just love playing in their ‘verses.
Author’s Note: It’s amazing what kind of ideas spark in your brain when you’re at work and this story idea was no exception. I hope everyone enjoys themselves! Also, thank you to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
sierraphoenix for the beta and jennytork for the encouragement and help!
Spoilers: It’s a good idea to have a working idea of what TARDIS’s are in the Doctor Who ‘verse and a brief understanding of what the Time War is.
Summary: As long as he could remember, Peter dreamed of fire. He was now going to find out why.
Red and orange flames licked up along his side as he ran desperately anywhere to escape the fire that followed him.
Running, searching, seeking, he ran on and on until the fire finally caught and consumed him.
Peter sat straight up in bed screaming his head off. “NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!! SOMEONE!! ANYONE!!! HELP ME!!! DON’T WANNA BURN!!!”
Davy was instantly out of bed and by his side. "Sssshhh....it was a dream.... you're safe, you're all right....”
But Peter was beyond listening as he continued to scream out against the invisible torment that only he could see. “NOOOOOO!! DRAX? DRAX? WHERE ARE YOU? HELP ME!”
“Peter!! PETER!!” Davy was suddenly in front of Peter trying to get his attention.
Peter continued to scream for someone called Drax.
"Drax?" Davy covered his ears and bellowed for Mike.
Davy heard Mike come thundering down the stairs and entered the downstairs bedroom.
Mike gestured with his head for Davy to move.
The younger man complied and watched Mike kneel in front of the hysterical screaming blond.
Cupping Peter’s face with his hands, Mike leaned forward and whispered in Peter’s ear. “Hey, hey. It’s okay Peter. Its Drax, I’m here.”
The guitarist suddenly found himself being hugged by the bassist as Peter whispered words in his ear. “Thought I lost you Drax!! Thought I lost you to the fire!”
“Shh, its okay Peter, I’m here now. Go to sleep, okay? Shh....that’s it,” Mike gently said as Peter closed tired lids and slumped forward on the Texan’s shoulder. But Mike found himself unable to move as Peter had a tight grip around his waist.
Sighing, Mike manoeuvred them so they were both lying down on the bed. He gently petted Peter’s hair and looked at Davy.
“This is the third one in four days, Davy.”
"What the hell kind of name is Drax?”
“Sounds like someone important that Peter here lost,” Mike said again as Peter whimpered slightly and burrowed into Mike’s warmth.
Davy slumped down on his bed. “I’m just worried about him Mike. He wakes up screaming almost every night and he doesn’t remember a thing in the morning. The only thing that makes him believe us about it is his sore throat.”
"Drax...wonder what nationality that is?” Mike wondered out loud.
“Thought it was a person?” Davy asked.
“Could be a person,” Mike said. “Hell, could be anythin’. Hafta ask Peter here in the morn.”
“Doubt he’ll remember,” Davy groused as he settled into his bed.
“Doesn’t hurt to try,” Mike gently chided.
“Well good luck mate,” Davy said.
~~~
“Drax, Drax, Drax,” Peter tried the word. “Nope, sorry. Doesn’t ring a bell guys.”
“You were screaming that name last night Peter,” Davy said.
“I was?”
“He was? How come I didn’t hear anything?” Micky asked around his forkful of eggs.
“Cause you sleep like the dead Mick,” Mike said from his newspaper.
Peter tried the word once more and shook his head. “Sorry Davy, I don’t really remember.”
“You never do,” Davy muttered as he sat into the kitchen chair, dejected.
But Peter heard him and his face fell a little.
“I can’t help it Davy, I never remembered anything after having one of those nightmares. It took my parents years to tell me about them when I was old enough,” Peter said, wringing his hands nervously.
Davy looked at Peter with huge eyes. “You’ve had those nightmares before?”
Peter nodded, tears starting to form at his eyes.
“Why didn’t you bloody mention this before?”
“They *sniff* they went away on their own when I was little. *sniff* I thought these would too,” Peter took the Kleenex that Micky held out to him gratefully.
“Why fire, Shotgun?” Mike spoke.
“I, I don’t know Mike,” Peter said confused. “It was always about fire, but the Drax name is new.”
“I think you ought’ a call your parents and find out what’s goin’ on Peter,” Mike said. “You deserve to wake up without a sore throat.”
“And for us to get a full night’s sleep,” Davy said.
“I always get a full night’s sleep,” Micky grinned at Davy.
Davy eyed Micky and wadded up his napkin. Taking aim, he hit Micky between the eyes with a grin.
Wiping away the rest of his tears, Peter got up and headed over to the phone. A determined look appeared in his eyes as he dialed the familiar numbers.
The rest of The Monkees quickly cleared the table and did the washing to give their friend some privacy in hopes he would find something out.
It was half an hour later and The Monkees made their way over to a nearly white-faced Peter who was still holding the phone.
Prying the handle out of the bassist’s hand, Mike heard the dial tone and realized the phone call ended already. Putting it back on the hook, he led Peter over towards the couch and sat them both down.
“Micky, get some water,” Mike ordered. “Davy, grab Peter his teddy bear.”
“Aye, aye Captain!” they both saluted and hurried off to their tasks.
Gently tugging Peter towards him, Mike threaded his fingers through the blonde’s hair. “Phone call didn’t go so well Shotgun?”
“I was just a replacement,” Peter whispered out.
"What?"
Peter sobbed. “Just a damned replacement for Peter Tork.”
"Hold on -- you ARE Peter Tork!"
Micky and Davy came in at this point. Handing Peter the water, the blond took a long drink and handed a nearly empty glass back to Micky. But when Davy handed him the bear, Peter took it in his hands, stared at it and tossed it far away from himself.
“Peter!” Davy cried out and ran to retrieve the bear.
“That doesn’t belong to me. It belongs to a child long since dead!” Peter sobbed out.
"Peter, you're not makin' sense," Mike said.
Trying to control his crying, Peter told them what he was told. “The Torks found me in their backyard when I was little; surrounded by scorched grass and weird metal components around me. I looked so much like their dead son, they gave me his name.”
“But you’re Peter Tork,” Micky said.
“No I’m not. I was just given his name because I looked so much like him. I’m not Peter Tork and I never was. Peter Tork is buried in a Connecticut Cemetery, dead at the age of seven years old,” Here Peter’s voice had taken a broken monotone tone to it. “I’m just a replacement. Their replacement miracle child.”
Mike gripped his wrist and bored his eyes into the brown ones. "Now you listen to me. You are still our friend, do you understand this?"
Peter nodded.
“You are the bassist for The Monkees,” Micky said as he laid a hand on Peter’s leg.
“And you are our brother,” Davy added as he laid his hand on Peter’s arm.
Peter looked at them all and broke down into a heart breaking keening, crying as they all pulled themselves into a group hug.
"And until you find out who you are, we'll keep calling you Peter. Okay?" Mike asked in Peter's ear.
“Okay Michael,” Peter whispered back into Mike’s ear.
They all crowded around Peter to lend him comfort and support. Peter soaked it all in.
“Did, did the Torks say anything else?” Micky asked tenderly. “About the nightmares?”
“No, I’m having the same reactions as I did when I was little and they first found me. Although they said the ‘Drax’ word was new,” Peter whispered. “They’re sending a box filled with the metal components that were found near me.”
“Maybe those will have some answers for you Peter,” Davy said.
~~~
The Torks must have overnighted it. The boxes arrived in 18 hours.
“Staring at them won’t give you answers, Shotgun,” Mike said from behind Peter.
Peter jumped a little from the kitchen chair and then glanced at the boxes still waiting near the front door. “I’m nervous Michael. I don’t know what I’ll find in there.”
"Let's find out,”
Micky came bounding down the stairs with a grin. “Who’s going to find out who they are today?”
Peter smiled slightly. “I am,”
“That’s the spirit Big Pete!” Micky clapped Peter hard on the back. Hard enough to send the bassist flying forward to his feet.
“Easy there Micky. You’re going to knock him out before he can find out who he is,” Davy laughed as he wandered over to the blond and helped him up.
Peter nodded thanks to the shorter man. Going to pull his hand from the Englishman, he found that Davy had a good firm grip and was staring at his arm.
“Davy?” Peter looked at him confused and then stared down. Brown eyes went wide.
There on his arm, his skin had raised to form some sort of tattoo. In geometric shapes.
Mike scrambled and got pen and paper. He drew the shapes.
“What the bloody hell are those?” Davy cried out as he rubbed his free hand against the raised skin.
Micky came over and watched as it disappeared underneath Peter’s arm.
Peter just continued to stare at the now unblemished skin of his arm.
“Looks like some sort of geometric shapes,” Mike said as he finished the drawing.
“But why were they on my arm?” Peter raised frightened, confused eyes towards Mike.
“No clue Peter. But maybe those boxes will have some sorta answer,” Mike nodded. "Let's open them.”
The Monkees quickly carried the boxes towards the kitchen table and opened them up.
Micky’s eyes went huge over the metal found inside. “Groovy bits here!
Peter just looked at them in half wonder and half recognition. “I, I think they all belong to me...but, there’s something else on the tip of my tongue. I, I don’t know how to explain it!”
Mike, Davy and Micky watched as Peter looked at the bits and pieces of metal frustrated, as if he expected them to do something.
Mike picked up three. "These look like they fit together.”
Peter grabbed them out of Mike’s hands. “Nononono!! They don’t fit like that. They need...they need..,” Peter’s eyes took on a glossy look as he started grabbing the bits of metal and started fitting them together.
Mike hesitantly put a hand on Peter’s shoulder and shook. “Peter?”
Peter shrugged him off and babbled something out that sounded like a musical scale.
They watched Peter lose himself in assembling the metal bits together like a jigsaw. And they saw more and more geometric shapes appear on visible skin.
Mike continued sketching the shapes out on the pad of paper.
“It’s like he’s not in control of himself,” Davy wondered out loud.
Both Micky and Mike nodded their agreement and continued to watch.
The pieces were finally assembled in different groupings, but complete and whole. Smiling, Peter looked at them with such happiness; Mike had to wonder what these metal bits were to the blond.
Taking a step backwards, Peter raised his arms and The Monkees watched as the metal floated upwards and attached themselves to Peter like armour.
The ‘armour’ soon melted into the geometric shapes until the tattoos were glowing a visible blue hue.
Mike shot to his feet. "PETER!"
Peter tilted his head and looked at Mike. “Peter Tork is not available as a function currently. I am TARDIS Series P,”
“I don’t care!! Bring him back!” Mike snarled as he grabbed the being inhabiting his friends’ body.
Peter gently untangled Mike’s hands from his shirt and took a step towards Micky. “I need my emotions chip and memory module please,”
“Why should I give it to you? What did you do with Peter?” Micky growled out as Davy circled around to the other side.
Peter sighed. “Micky, I am Peter, but I am not Peter. Currently I need those components to save Peter Tork’s data from being erased,”
“What do you mean erased?” Mike asked suspiciously.
“Without those components to save my back-up data, every time I reboot from a sleep, old data is erased and my functions see Peter Tork as old data,” Peter’s voice was monotone, but hopefully they could see his logic. “I can’t emote properly and I am sorry. I love being Peter Tork and I don’t wish to see him destroyed,”
The tattoos flashed blue and they watched as light slowly crept up Peter’s arms. “You must hurry, countdown is beginning,”
Davy picked up the two modules. "Which is which?"
“The square one is the memory module. That must be inserted behind my left ear. The triangle one is my emotions chip and must be inserted near my heart,”
Mike grabbed Peter’s shirt and tore it open. Taking the triangle one, Mike SHOVED it into the space.
Davy moved like lightning, pushing the other piece behind Peter’s left ear.
As the two pieces were inserted, the blue lines had disappeared underneath Peter’s blond hair. A light seemed to die from within Peter and he fell backwards into Micky’s arms as blue light escaped from his lips.
The tattoos writhed and disappeared underneath smooth skin once again and Peter stared blankly from Micky’s arms.
“Did we do it?” Davy asked.
“I – I don’t know,” Mike said.
Micky eased to his knees and Mike knelt to the side, tapping his cheek. "Peter? Peter!"
Davy looked on as Micky and Mike tried to rouse their friend.
Like a system restarting, Peter gave a gasp of breath and sat up, nearly taking Micky out.
Mike put his hand on Peter's shoulder.
Peter’s hand came up and grabbed it. Brown eyes looked up into chocolate brown eyes and Peter smiled. “Hi, Michael.”
Mike smiled, seeing his friend still in those eyes. "Hi, Peter,”
Micky’s arms circled the two from behind Peter. “Don’t you ever scare us like that again Big Pete.”
“I’ll try not to Micky,” Peter said gently.
Davy joined the group and looked at Peter. “So, what was all of that about?”
Peter started to laugh and laugh and laugh.
"Not really funny, Peter," Mike said.
Peter calmed down at that and looked Mike in the eye. “I know Michael. But it was a question that struck me funny.”
“So, what that was all about, did it help you in finding out who you are?” Micky asked, quickly diffusing the situation.
“Yes, it did,” Peter said.
“And?” Mike asked.
Peter looked at them all, capturing their eyes. “I am a Type-102 TARDIS Series-P. I am a sentient time ship. And I am the last of my kind,”
THE END.
Series: TARDIS Series-P(rototype)
Author: Sparrow
Fandom: The Monkees, Doctor Who
Characters: Peter, Mike, Davy, Micky
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: I in no way own The Monkees or Doctor Who, I just love playing in their ‘verses.
Author’s Note: It’s amazing what kind of ideas spark in your brain when you’re at work and this story idea was no exception. I hope everyone enjoys themselves! Also, thank you to
sierraphoenix for the beta and jennytork for the encouragement and help!Spoilers: It’s a good idea to have a working idea of what TARDIS’s are in the Doctor Who ‘verse and a brief understanding of what the Time War is.
Summary: As long as he could remember, Peter dreamed of fire. He was now going to find out why.
Red and orange flames licked up along his side as he ran desperately anywhere to escape the fire that followed him.
Running, searching, seeking, he ran on and on until the fire finally caught and consumed him.
Peter sat straight up in bed screaming his head off. “NOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!! SOMEONE!! ANYONE!!! HELP ME!!! DON’T WANNA BURN!!!”
Davy was instantly out of bed and by his side. "Sssshhh....it was a dream.... you're safe, you're all right....”
But Peter was beyond listening as he continued to scream out against the invisible torment that only he could see. “NOOOOOO!! DRAX? DRAX? WHERE ARE YOU? HELP ME!”
“Peter!! PETER!!” Davy was suddenly in front of Peter trying to get his attention.
Peter continued to scream for someone called Drax.
"Drax?" Davy covered his ears and bellowed for Mike.
Davy heard Mike come thundering down the stairs and entered the downstairs bedroom.
Mike gestured with his head for Davy to move.
The younger man complied and watched Mike kneel in front of the hysterical screaming blond.
Cupping Peter’s face with his hands, Mike leaned forward and whispered in Peter’s ear. “Hey, hey. It’s okay Peter. Its Drax, I’m here.”
The guitarist suddenly found himself being hugged by the bassist as Peter whispered words in his ear. “Thought I lost you Drax!! Thought I lost you to the fire!”
“Shh, its okay Peter, I’m here now. Go to sleep, okay? Shh....that’s it,” Mike gently said as Peter closed tired lids and slumped forward on the Texan’s shoulder. But Mike found himself unable to move as Peter had a tight grip around his waist.
Sighing, Mike manoeuvred them so they were both lying down on the bed. He gently petted Peter’s hair and looked at Davy.
“This is the third one in four days, Davy.”
"What the hell kind of name is Drax?”
“Sounds like someone important that Peter here lost,” Mike said again as Peter whimpered slightly and burrowed into Mike’s warmth.
Davy slumped down on his bed. “I’m just worried about him Mike. He wakes up screaming almost every night and he doesn’t remember a thing in the morning. The only thing that makes him believe us about it is his sore throat.”
"Drax...wonder what nationality that is?” Mike wondered out loud.
“Thought it was a person?” Davy asked.
“Could be a person,” Mike said. “Hell, could be anythin’. Hafta ask Peter here in the morn.”
“Doubt he’ll remember,” Davy groused as he settled into his bed.
“Doesn’t hurt to try,” Mike gently chided.
“Well good luck mate,” Davy said.
~~~
“Drax, Drax, Drax,” Peter tried the word. “Nope, sorry. Doesn’t ring a bell guys.”
“You were screaming that name last night Peter,” Davy said.
“I was?”
“He was? How come I didn’t hear anything?” Micky asked around his forkful of eggs.
“Cause you sleep like the dead Mick,” Mike said from his newspaper.
Peter tried the word once more and shook his head. “Sorry Davy, I don’t really remember.”
“You never do,” Davy muttered as he sat into the kitchen chair, dejected.
But Peter heard him and his face fell a little.
“I can’t help it Davy, I never remembered anything after having one of those nightmares. It took my parents years to tell me about them when I was old enough,” Peter said, wringing his hands nervously.
Davy looked at Peter with huge eyes. “You’ve had those nightmares before?”
Peter nodded, tears starting to form at his eyes.
“Why didn’t you bloody mention this before?”
“They *sniff* they went away on their own when I was little. *sniff* I thought these would too,” Peter took the Kleenex that Micky held out to him gratefully.
“Why fire, Shotgun?” Mike spoke.
“I, I don’t know Mike,” Peter said confused. “It was always about fire, but the Drax name is new.”
“I think you ought’ a call your parents and find out what’s goin’ on Peter,” Mike said. “You deserve to wake up without a sore throat.”
“And for us to get a full night’s sleep,” Davy said.
“I always get a full night’s sleep,” Micky grinned at Davy.
Davy eyed Micky and wadded up his napkin. Taking aim, he hit Micky between the eyes with a grin.
Wiping away the rest of his tears, Peter got up and headed over to the phone. A determined look appeared in his eyes as he dialed the familiar numbers.
The rest of The Monkees quickly cleared the table and did the washing to give their friend some privacy in hopes he would find something out.
It was half an hour later and The Monkees made their way over to a nearly white-faced Peter who was still holding the phone.
Prying the handle out of the bassist’s hand, Mike heard the dial tone and realized the phone call ended already. Putting it back on the hook, he led Peter over towards the couch and sat them both down.
“Micky, get some water,” Mike ordered. “Davy, grab Peter his teddy bear.”
“Aye, aye Captain!” they both saluted and hurried off to their tasks.
Gently tugging Peter towards him, Mike threaded his fingers through the blonde’s hair. “Phone call didn’t go so well Shotgun?”
“I was just a replacement,” Peter whispered out.
"What?"
Peter sobbed. “Just a damned replacement for Peter Tork.”
"Hold on -- you ARE Peter Tork!"
Micky and Davy came in at this point. Handing Peter the water, the blond took a long drink and handed a nearly empty glass back to Micky. But when Davy handed him the bear, Peter took it in his hands, stared at it and tossed it far away from himself.
“Peter!” Davy cried out and ran to retrieve the bear.
“That doesn’t belong to me. It belongs to a child long since dead!” Peter sobbed out.
"Peter, you're not makin' sense," Mike said.
Trying to control his crying, Peter told them what he was told. “The Torks found me in their backyard when I was little; surrounded by scorched grass and weird metal components around me. I looked so much like their dead son, they gave me his name.”
“But you’re Peter Tork,” Micky said.
“No I’m not. I was just given his name because I looked so much like him. I’m not Peter Tork and I never was. Peter Tork is buried in a Connecticut Cemetery, dead at the age of seven years old,” Here Peter’s voice had taken a broken monotone tone to it. “I’m just a replacement. Their replacement miracle child.”
Mike gripped his wrist and bored his eyes into the brown ones. "Now you listen to me. You are still our friend, do you understand this?"
Peter nodded.
“You are the bassist for The Monkees,” Micky said as he laid a hand on Peter’s leg.
“And you are our brother,” Davy added as he laid his hand on Peter’s arm.
Peter looked at them all and broke down into a heart breaking keening, crying as they all pulled themselves into a group hug.
"And until you find out who you are, we'll keep calling you Peter. Okay?" Mike asked in Peter's ear.
“Okay Michael,” Peter whispered back into Mike’s ear.
They all crowded around Peter to lend him comfort and support. Peter soaked it all in.
“Did, did the Torks say anything else?” Micky asked tenderly. “About the nightmares?”
“No, I’m having the same reactions as I did when I was little and they first found me. Although they said the ‘Drax’ word was new,” Peter whispered. “They’re sending a box filled with the metal components that were found near me.”
“Maybe those will have some answers for you Peter,” Davy said.
~~~
The Torks must have overnighted it. The boxes arrived in 18 hours.
“Staring at them won’t give you answers, Shotgun,” Mike said from behind Peter.
Peter jumped a little from the kitchen chair and then glanced at the boxes still waiting near the front door. “I’m nervous Michael. I don’t know what I’ll find in there.”
"Let's find out,”
Micky came bounding down the stairs with a grin. “Who’s going to find out who they are today?”
Peter smiled slightly. “I am,”
“That’s the spirit Big Pete!” Micky clapped Peter hard on the back. Hard enough to send the bassist flying forward to his feet.
“Easy there Micky. You’re going to knock him out before he can find out who he is,” Davy laughed as he wandered over to the blond and helped him up.
Peter nodded thanks to the shorter man. Going to pull his hand from the Englishman, he found that Davy had a good firm grip and was staring at his arm.
“Davy?” Peter looked at him confused and then stared down. Brown eyes went wide.
There on his arm, his skin had raised to form some sort of tattoo. In geometric shapes.
Mike scrambled and got pen and paper. He drew the shapes.
“What the bloody hell are those?” Davy cried out as he rubbed his free hand against the raised skin.
Micky came over and watched as it disappeared underneath Peter’s arm.
Peter just continued to stare at the now unblemished skin of his arm.
“Looks like some sort of geometric shapes,” Mike said as he finished the drawing.
“But why were they on my arm?” Peter raised frightened, confused eyes towards Mike.
“No clue Peter. But maybe those boxes will have some sorta answer,” Mike nodded. "Let's open them.”
The Monkees quickly carried the boxes towards the kitchen table and opened them up.
Micky’s eyes went huge over the metal found inside. “Groovy bits here!
Peter just looked at them in half wonder and half recognition. “I, I think they all belong to me...but, there’s something else on the tip of my tongue. I, I don’t know how to explain it!”
Mike, Davy and Micky watched as Peter looked at the bits and pieces of metal frustrated, as if he expected them to do something.
Mike picked up three. "These look like they fit together.”
Peter grabbed them out of Mike’s hands. “Nononono!! They don’t fit like that. They need...they need..,” Peter’s eyes took on a glossy look as he started grabbing the bits of metal and started fitting them together.
Mike hesitantly put a hand on Peter’s shoulder and shook. “Peter?”
Peter shrugged him off and babbled something out that sounded like a musical scale.
They watched Peter lose himself in assembling the metal bits together like a jigsaw. And they saw more and more geometric shapes appear on visible skin.
Mike continued sketching the shapes out on the pad of paper.
“It’s like he’s not in control of himself,” Davy wondered out loud.
Both Micky and Mike nodded their agreement and continued to watch.
The pieces were finally assembled in different groupings, but complete and whole. Smiling, Peter looked at them with such happiness; Mike had to wonder what these metal bits were to the blond.
Taking a step backwards, Peter raised his arms and The Monkees watched as the metal floated upwards and attached themselves to Peter like armour.
The ‘armour’ soon melted into the geometric shapes until the tattoos were glowing a visible blue hue.
Mike shot to his feet. "PETER!"
Peter tilted his head and looked at Mike. “Peter Tork is not available as a function currently. I am TARDIS Series P,”
“I don’t care!! Bring him back!” Mike snarled as he grabbed the being inhabiting his friends’ body.
Peter gently untangled Mike’s hands from his shirt and took a step towards Micky. “I need my emotions chip and memory module please,”
“Why should I give it to you? What did you do with Peter?” Micky growled out as Davy circled around to the other side.
Peter sighed. “Micky, I am Peter, but I am not Peter. Currently I need those components to save Peter Tork’s data from being erased,”
“What do you mean erased?” Mike asked suspiciously.
“Without those components to save my back-up data, every time I reboot from a sleep, old data is erased and my functions see Peter Tork as old data,” Peter’s voice was monotone, but hopefully they could see his logic. “I can’t emote properly and I am sorry. I love being Peter Tork and I don’t wish to see him destroyed,”
The tattoos flashed blue and they watched as light slowly crept up Peter’s arms. “You must hurry, countdown is beginning,”
Davy picked up the two modules. "Which is which?"
“The square one is the memory module. That must be inserted behind my left ear. The triangle one is my emotions chip and must be inserted near my heart,”
Mike grabbed Peter’s shirt and tore it open. Taking the triangle one, Mike SHOVED it into the space.
Davy moved like lightning, pushing the other piece behind Peter’s left ear.
As the two pieces were inserted, the blue lines had disappeared underneath Peter’s blond hair. A light seemed to die from within Peter and he fell backwards into Micky’s arms as blue light escaped from his lips.
The tattoos writhed and disappeared underneath smooth skin once again and Peter stared blankly from Micky’s arms.
“Did we do it?” Davy asked.
“I – I don’t know,” Mike said.
Micky eased to his knees and Mike knelt to the side, tapping his cheek. "Peter? Peter!"
Davy looked on as Micky and Mike tried to rouse their friend.
Like a system restarting, Peter gave a gasp of breath and sat up, nearly taking Micky out.
Mike put his hand on Peter's shoulder.
Peter’s hand came up and grabbed it. Brown eyes looked up into chocolate brown eyes and Peter smiled. “Hi, Michael.”
Mike smiled, seeing his friend still in those eyes. "Hi, Peter,”
Micky’s arms circled the two from behind Peter. “Don’t you ever scare us like that again Big Pete.”
“I’ll try not to Micky,” Peter said gently.
Davy joined the group and looked at Peter. “So, what was all of that about?”
Peter started to laugh and laugh and laugh.
"Not really funny, Peter," Mike said.
Peter calmed down at that and looked Mike in the eye. “I know Michael. But it was a question that struck me funny.”
“So, what that was all about, did it help you in finding out who you are?” Micky asked, quickly diffusing the situation.
“Yes, it did,” Peter said.
“And?” Mike asked.
Peter looked at them all, capturing their eyes. “I am a Type-102 TARDIS Series-P. I am a sentient time ship. And I am the last of my kind,”
THE END.
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Date: 2009-06-18 06:42 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2009-06-18 11:58 am (UTC)