To Whisper Sweet Nothings (Tyra/4)

The death of one to save one more
When the Doctor returns to Trenzalore...

The TARDIS was still, almost eerily quiet. The console room had a soft, dim glow from the hexagonal console that studded the center of the pale, white room. The walls, covered with pale, glowing roundels, gave little light to the massive room. All was silent....

In what could be considered a small reading nook deep in the TARDIS itself, the Doctor snoozed deeply in a soft, plush leather chair. His feet rested shoeless on an antique velvet ottoman, revealing argyle socks with a singular hole in the toe. On his chest laid a first edition copy of The Rise and Fall of the Roman Empire, half marked up with red ink from the inaccuracies in history, perhaps one of the Doctor's favorite hobbies.

While the Doctor lay comatose in his chair, dreaming of sugar plum jelly babies dancing in his head, a small hiss came from behind him. A looming figure, pale and featureless, clad in Victorian garb and felt top hat, came closer and closer to the Doctor. Their faces formed a fiendish looking mouth with sharp daggers of teeth snarled and hissed, reaching closer and closer to the man...

All the meanwhile, the Doctor's dreams had turned sour. The jelly babies he once imagined gnarled and twisted into horrible shapes and forms, clumping into a terribly familiar mass almost reminiscent of a whisk. The shadowed form revealed itself, and it's other terrifying appendage being a plunger. The Doctor tried getting up, but his legs felt like they were a thousand pounds apiece. He couldn't move at all. He wiggled and squirmed, but to no avail, nothing happened. He could feel the tears start to run down his face as he begged for mercy. But the creature gave none. It grew massive, turning into a 30-foot tall form, shooting it's massive beams down at the Doctor....

The Doctor jumped out of his chair, hearts pounding nearly out of his chest and breathless. It took him a moment before he realized he was in the safety and sanctity of his own TARDIS, alone. The crackling fire next to him gave a relaxing warmth that felt much needed. He sighed as he fell back into the plush chair.

After regaining his composure, the Doctor stood up and wandered back into the console room. The idle console buzzed to life as the Doctor entered the room, slowly bringing up the lights as to not blind him from his post-nap state. He booted up the console screen to observe his location. It was London, around 10:00 pm. The cobblestone street beckoned of a bygone era, but then again, all of London beckoned of a bygone era.

The Doctor felt a small abdominal pain, followed by an irritatingly loud gurgle. Food time. The Doctor grabbed his scarf and frock, plopping a forest green fedora atop his head, and left the TARDIS in search for food...

'Don't let them find you, you can't even let them know that you've seen them. If you do, they'll whisper, and their whispers will tear you apart.' Frowning slightly at the computer screen in front of her, Tyra leaned back in the chair and lifted the cup of tea to her lips, taking a small sip of the steaming liquid while she glanced around the cafe. She never heard of the 'Whispermen' before, but if it was anything like she had found in 2009, they were mostly people telling stories to scare other people and to incite paranoia.

Letting out a small huff, she powered down the laptop and shut it, content to simply sit there and enjoy herself during a rare moment between 'cases' as she had taken to calling them. Not a peep from Jack or anyone else asking for help or for her to look into one thing or another. It was nice at first, now it was mostly boring. She had nothing to do to occupy her time, so once she first read an article in a newspaper, really it was just a mentioning for the most part. Hardly a sentence, but it was about something called 'Whispermen', something she never heard of.

Taking the opportunity, she searched online, for anything that might bring up information on them, but for the most part it was obviously doctored photos, drawings, blogs... The random bits of internet all scattered, but nothing important. Turning her head, Tyra watched the flow of foot traffic idly, people watching as her mother called it. Something she enjoyed whenever finding herself with nothing to do.

The Doctor exited the TARDIS and right onto a sidewalk right in the middle of town. The sidewalks were lit with orange fluorescent bulbs, giving an unusual glow to the lit up street shops and to the faces of passerbys, who didn't seem to notice the police box or the man coming out of it.

The Doctor closed the TARDIS doors and observed the nearby shops. Most of the restaurants nearby were either close to closing or were already closed, but the neon signs in the windows gave a dim sense of life. The Doctor began to walk down the street, in search of some sort of food shop or bar that could be open. But nothing seemed to be open. After a while, the Doctor came across a small shop that looked to be open late. He sighed, but it was something he'd have to accept. He entered the cafe.

He was immediately met with a strong scent of coffee and bakery goods, making his gurgling stomach growl louder. He went up to the barista and ordered the largest coffee he get and the biggest orange scone he saw. He took the goods back to a small corner table and made himself at home. Looking around the shop, he was taking in the sights. There weren't many people in the cafe left, but some odd people and couples still sat at tables chatting and noshing. There was one lone person with a laptop computer watching the couple pass by, not even taking mention of the information on her laptop screen.

What was on her screen, though, is what caught the Doctor's eye. Trying his best not to snoop over her shoulder, he observed that she seemed to be researching something called the "Whispermen". It had been a while since the Doctor had ever heard of the Whispermen, as it was often credited to being an old folk tale. Pale, faceless men in long coats whispering and terrorizing, killing in some lores. Incredibly interested in this subject, the Doctor stood up and came over to the girl. "A-hem! Pardon me, I couldn't help but noticing you're researching a very interesting subject. Do you mind if I join you?"

Tyra jumped slightly, shook from her thoughts as a bright, loud, friendly, did she mention loud? Voice commenting on what she still had sitting on her laptop screen. Feeling a faint flush cross her cheeks, she snapped it shut and tossed a wry smile in the man's direction, quickly taking in his odd dressing and friendly face, her instinct taking over and immediately calming her nerves from the edge. "Ah, well, I just heard about it honestly. I think it's just something more that people came up with to scare and cause paranoia. I admit, it has a past, old tales told about them, but so did the 'Slenderman' Character that came around a few years back." She admitted with a shrug, curiosity taking over and causing her hand to raise up and wave him towards the empty seat across from where she sat.

"Truthfully, every myth has a nugget of truth in it, the question is though, what part is true, and what parts are added on?" Tyra let out a huff of air, her eyes drifting down to the bag beside her, itching to go through her mother's journal once more and try to find at least one mention of these 'Whispermen' to give her reason to believe that there was something out there unusual. Something she never ran into, but was dangerous, something she knew nothing about. Her eyes flicked back over to the man, a small frown appearing between her eyebrows as she thought over the possible questions that it would raise if he spotted the journal and decided against it. "What do you think about them?"

The Doctor retrieved his scone and coffee and took the seat across from the woman. He noticed that she had slammed her laptop screen down dramatically, and apologized for causing any possible embarrassment. "Just heard about it? Would you be surprised that it's been around a lot longer that that, and in legends revolving around a massive entity which was unnamed. I've heard all of the legends and lore, but without getting into too much detail you know?"

He took a large bite of his scone, getting crumbs and orange rind all over himself and his table. He brushed them off while listening to the woman's story, nodding occasionally and taking in what information she had. "Slenderman eh? Most interesting..."

The Doctor, mid-bite, noticed that while the woman spoke, she kept looking down at her bag. The Doctor casually glanced down at the bag, taking keen notice that she had a journal stuffed in there, which looked well used and traveled. "You know, every myth is based off of some sort of fact. The Loch Ness monster, Vlad the Impaler, Hitler. Perhaps it's from some sort of local legend or native witch doctor? How can one ever tell the difference? Oh, do you mind if I take a look at the journal?"

He blurted the last bit out, spurting crumbs all over the table. He felt quite embarrassed, sweeping them onto the floor and cleaning up a bit of his mess.

Heat spread across Tyra's cheeks at the man's sudden question, embarrassed at being caught staring at it, more frustrated that he seemed to think it was alright to ask such a thing to someone he barely even met. "It's my mother's. One of the few things I have left of her, so no. You can't." She said shortly, ending the discussion about the journal effectively while watching with mild amusement as he cleaned up the mess he created a bit haphazardly. "You remind me of someone she talked about. Quite a bit actually..." She said idly, her mind wandering off like it had been recently, going back to happier times with Sonya before forcing herself back to the present.

"She told me tales about everything, All the horrible things in the dark to the most wonderful things that made light look grey in comparison. Of places so beautiful, it could cause heartache and the deepest joy at the same time. She told me stories of creatures so ruthless, they'd trace you to the end of time if they wanted to just to destroy all you held close to you..." Tyra fell silent, her eyes drifting down to the cup held between her hands and let out a low sigh. "Sorry, I get like that sometimes. Just ignore me and my ramblings." Looking back up, she flashed a wide grin in his direction. "My skull may be thick, but it cracks like a taco shell under the slightest pressure in the right direction."

"Besides, enough about me and my odd way of talking. You, what makes you so interesting? I mean, besides your taste in clothes because honestly... They-" Cutting herself off, a memory surfacing as she spoke to finally tell her what it was that had been ticking at the back of her mind.

'He has this scarf in his wardrobe. Huge thing, full of colors that just clash. Horrible fashion statement.' Her mother laughed, head tossing itself back as she did while a younger Tyra sat at her feet, eyes wide and ears trained to catch everything Sonya said. 'I asked him about it once before, he said it was from one of his younger phases. When he regenerated, he decided against wearing it again because of the reason that people kept stepping on the end of it.'

"You're the Doctor." She finally stated flatly, the slight shine in her eyes dying away to leave nothing behind. "I should have known."

The Doctor felt himself blush slightly at her sudden snap. At least she didn't whip out her whisk and laser him to death. "My apologies, I didn't realize how important it was to you. In all honesty, I was going to see if I could compare notes, since it seemed about the age of someone who would do research on this type of thing. I meant no offense, you know."

The Doctor brushed crumbs off his lips before giving a silent Ah HA! He reached into his frock pocket and pulled out a small leather bound journal of (what looked like) similar make. The glistening golden letters on the front gleamed "700 year old diary" on it. The book had seen age and life, facing enemies of the galaxy and filled with knowledge that would make the National Archives look like a pamphlet brochure. When she mentioned that the Doctor reminded her of someone her mom used to know, he looked up at her, revealing his glistening purple eyes in the dim, yellow cafe light. He gave her a trademark ear-to-ear toothy smile. "I hope it's in a McGann way, my dear! But in this diary, i've written some very interesting things about my travels, and you might find it a lot more interesting than using Google or Wikipedia in the end."

He flipped through the journal as she began her tale about her mother, which intrigued the Doctor with a terrible curiosity. "She's right, you know. I've seen some of those terrible creatures myself, but you'd never believe it if you looked at me, would you?" He jested at her in a friendly fashion, trying to ease up a bit of the awkward tension that he might have caused earlier.

He began to flip through the journal once more when she said it. The name he had been known by for centuries. His eyes shot up to meet hers, letting the journal in his hands drop down to the table. "So you know me already? How very unusual to meet a stranger who knows my name at least. And I don't even know yours, what a shame. Who, exactly, was your mother?"

Steeling herself to calm the sudden anger that rose up at the realization of who this man was, Tyra closed her blue eyes and took a deep breath, silently reminding herself he wasn't him, the one she knew of the most. It wasn't him, so therefore not at fault. After several repeats of the mantra and three more deep breaths, she opened her eyes again and silently studied him for a moment. "I don't think you ever met her to be honest. She may have mentioned you in her journal a few times, but it was in passing mostly." She finally murmured, a hand reaching over and pulling the leather-bound book from the bag and setting it gently on the table, taking special care of the worn edges and holding a loving hand against it's cover.

"Her name was Sonya, and she was one of your form's supposed best friend. Until she died that is, but I suppose I'll let you sort out the details with him should you two ever meet." She added bitterly, a hard edge appearing in her words before another sigh nearly deflated her form, sending it slumping backwards into the seat and weary eyes to lift from the red leather to his purple ones. "I can't hate you. I want to, but I can't. You aren't him, you have no idea what happened..." trailing off again, Tyra glanced towards the window, staying silent for a while.

"Her name was Sonya. She never told me her last name, or if she even had one. From what I know, it was because of Rassilon that she ended up escaping what happened to Gallifrey, that and her blasted parents." Still refusing to look over at the Doctor, she watched a couple standing on the sidewalk just outside the window with forced interest, a slight pang slicing through her chest as the man wrapped an arm around the woman's shoulders and lead her across the street.

"My name is Tyra. I am not a Time Lord, but I know all that my mother taught me." She finally explained softly, her head slowly turning to look in his direction once more. "I'm purely human, even though both of my parents were Time Lords, figure that one out."

Watching Tyra with a hawk-like focus, the Doctor felt his face begin to flush. There was pain in her eyes; a pain that seemed immeasurable. The Doctor knew this pain all too well. He knew very well that losing someone very close to you was a pain that no one should ever experience, at least by themselves. He saw flashes of Jamie and Zoe's faces, filled with tears and pain as they left the Doctor to go back home. He saw the terror in Sarah Kingdom's face as she lay before him, limb and lifeless from a dalek phaser. But more importantly, he saw the very familiar pain of of being alone in her eyes.

The Doctor felt compelled to reach out and grab her hand and tell her it's going to be okay, but he knew it wouldn't work. It never worked for him at least. He watched her pull out the journal and place it on the table, taking tender and careful care with the worn leather binding. He tried his best to muster up a smile for her, but she faced away from him when she mentioned that Sonya was with a future incarnation. It was understandable how she couldn't face him in that situation. The Doctor was sure he wouldn't even be able to face himself in that situation either. But time had a funny way of reuniting most people...

"You know, being human is not necessarily a bad thing. Some of the best people in the universe that I've ever met were human. Being a time lord really isn't a trip either. The gift of restricted immortality is a terrible burden to carry on one's shoulders in order to travel the galaxy. I've seen galaxies of the most brilliant minds dissolve into stardust, watched some of the most honorable warriors in the world fall into a nova, seen entire civilizations fall to it's knees before my very eyes only to be nearly wiped out by greed and vanity. All for the price of living for centuries as an observer. This is why I became the Doctor."

Tyra eyed the Doctor silently, her hands still gently passing across the cover of the journal sitting in front of her while he spoke before making a careful reply of her own. "I don't hate being human, but now I'm stuck between two worlds I will never fully belong to. I was raised in the future, taught Time Lord history, now live in the past with more money than I could ever hope to spend in my entire lifetime. I don't fit in anywhere." Her blue eyes lost their focus as they turned inward, focusing on her thoughts for a moment with a slight frown on her face. "I really believe I have no place to go. I don't even have an official home, I just bounce from hotel to hotel as I travel from job to job to be honest."

Focusing back on his face, Tyra let out an empty laugh and shook her head, ignoring the worried glance a couple tossed in her direction when they heard it. "The only person in the universe that wants me around is Jack. And he's so busy most of the time, I rarely even see him anymore. So basically... I'm a social pariah. You're the first to talk to me outside of a job in three months." Looking down, she fingered the edge of her journal before finally flipping it open to the first page. "I will tell you one thing, what is in this journal, is precious to me. And anyone I choose to share it's information with had best not cross me. I will not hesitate to kill. I've lived in a harsh world and had to learn fast, Doctor. This is your only warning." With that, she slowly slid it across the table towards him, sharp eyes locking onto his face once more.

The Doctor nodded, and took the journal gingerly, flipping through the pages with care and observing the details upon the pages. Inside, he found various archives of encounters on different planets, drawings of terrible beasties and elaborate plans, and a particular drawing of a man with stuck out ears and a cheeky smile. The Doctor paused for a moment on this particular page, and began to flip through it once more without giving it another thought.

At long last, he saw something that caught his eye: a poem that sent chills up his spine. His instinct told him that when the chills occur, something very important was at stake. And this was it, apparently. He began to read through the poem, mumbling as he read:

Galactic peace, at long last,
when the blue box takes a blast.

A sad grave, it shall stand,
When he no longer walks the land.

Death of one to save one more
When the Doctor returns to Trenzalore.

Control, he will lose, out of hand
and all will fall into sand.

The Doctor sat, staring at the poem for a while. The words echoed through his mind like a room filled with ten thousand bouncy balls. He looked up at Tyra with wide eyes and solemn expression, set the journal down, then began to flip through his own journal. He landed on the page entitled "Whispermen" and gave the journal to her.

"My dear, I don't think this is a chance meeting at all. Coincidences are far too close together to be random."

Tyra felt a weak smile spread across her face at his words, her head already nodding in agreement. "My mother once told me 'When you meet someone, there is a reason behind it. No matter how brief the meeting, no matter how little you know of the person or the situation. Everything that happens is done for a single reason for their timeline. So do not take anything lightly, always smile, always be curious, and always always ask questions.' She was a bit eccentric, but she has a point about a lot of things." Glancing down at the diary in front of her, Tyra's blue eyes scanned the page curiously, head tipped to the side while she read bits and pieces of them.

"I do have to say though, whatever we met for, it is a rather big reason behind it. Or we never would have ended up showing our prized possessions off like this. Mother told me once you... Well not you, another you threatened to force regeneration if she touched his diary again when she found it tucked away under the TARDIS console while working on it." Laughing slightly, she shook her head at the memory of Sonya's face, complete indignation at what he had said to her. Almost huffy if she would go so far as to say that. "Yet here you are, showing me your Journal. So tell me, Doctor. I know that brilliant mind of yours already came up with an idea, share it with the rest of the people because I am a bit useless at untangling timelines."

The Doctor, thoroughly entranced by the aged leather-bound journal he held in his hands, gingerly flipped through the pages, seeming to read each page with a speedy brilliance. He casually glanced up at Tyra, assuring her that he was fully attentive to both her conversation and to the work of art he held in his hands. He absorbed the information of the mysterious Whisper creatures, piecing together information and collecting the thoughts in his mind-mixer. This information has to be relevant...

"Of course i've got an idea. This information that you have in your mother's journal, this information is terribly fantastic. And certainly awe-some. There is one thing in particular that your journal has outside of mine that interests me in the most amounts. A most terrible thing; a thing that I've hated to come across in all of my faces so far. This thing--name rather--is a spine tingling entity that i've faced way too many times, and I fear this will not be the last."

He set down the journal in front of her, pointing with a long, boney finger at an underlined phrase.

"The Great Intellegence."

"Oh them? Mother told me stories about them... Showing up in so many different forms. Mostly creatures of the abstract, taking form of an intangable form of intelligence in seperate beings that animate objects... Snow for instance, it seems to love cold things." Tyra said idly, leaning forward before sitting up and paging through his journal in front of her carefully then slid the page over dipicting a hastily drawn image of what looked to be a furry creature with black eyes, tapping it to get his attention. "One of their forms. She told me once about it, never saw it for herself, retelling it from the Doctor she knew best when she was a child. He told her loads of stories about his past adventures, and this..." She flipped the page and pointed out the small drawing in the corner that looked vaguely like a lunchbox with a map on it's front. "would be how he stopped them that time."

Flipping the journal back around, she frowned at the pages with confusion. "You didn't write much aabout it honestly, it just seems like you drew those things so you wouldn't forget. Why wouldn't you go into detail?" Looking back up, Tyra studied his face, tipping her head to the side to see it in a different light and only frowned again. "You make no sense to me to be absolutely honest. I'm nothing like Sonya... Mother... She knew who you were no matter what face you held or where you were at in her timeline. What you had done, where you were physically and what to tell you when one of those... Moods came around. I'm rubbish at that sort of thing."

"Moods? MOODS? I don't get moods. Well...perhaps. But in all honesty, my former selves did get a bit sloppy near the end, didn't they? At least that's the way it would look. However, I did fear the journal getting into the wrong hands. So I started writing in code, so only I could read and write in the journal and avoid it being tampered with."

The Doctor looked up from his journal at Tyra with a smirk, then turned his attention to the window. Standing, looming outside of the window was a large, pale man in Victorian garb, looking in. His top hat shadowed what was the most of his face, but no distinguishable features could be made out. He grabbed Tyra's hand and motioned to the window, making sure not to lose sight of the spine-chilling beast.

Blinking in surprise, Tyra nearly jerked her hand out of his before catching the slight motion he made towards the window and froze at what she saw. There it was, the creature she had been trying to find, standing right there just staring at the two of them. "Ah... Well... This is a bit unprecidented." She murmured quietly so he could hear, not taking her eyes off of the blank face and red lips in a haze of fear and facination. "Would you look at that. It can't even see us, no eyes, but it's... Sensing us. I can almost feel the static charge from where it's 'looking'." She added in awe, leaning towards the window despite herself to study it closer.

"Only a mouth. I suppose the clothing is so it can hide easier. But Victorian is a bit outstanding in this timeline. You might want to look into getting a jumper maybe. Or a sweatshirt with a hoodie even. That would be a bit easier." She said louder, watching as it's head tipped in her direction, studying her as she spoke. "I don't know what you want with either of us. But you're here now, so... Either tell us, or walk away. I don't exactly have a lot of paitence." She added with false bravado, trying to shake the slight tingle of fear that spiked at it's 'gaze'.