Chapter Text
Mia Tyler walked home from school in the pouring rain. She shivered, pulling her coat around her body a little tighter, silently praying that the water wouldn’t seep through into her bookbag and ruin her papers. She had an important handwritten essay in there, one that she’d procrastinated writing for ages, and she knew that if it was ruined she would be an ordeal to re-do.
Inwardly, she knew this was her fault. She was supposed to take the bus. However, the bus was crowded, smelled a bit rank, and she felt particularly unwelcome because her kind-of boyfriend Dylan had dumped her earlier that day. As it so happened, the only free seat on the bus was next to him. Wanker, Mia thought, grimacing to herself.
Mia had considered calling her mum before she remembered that she was working, and should really only call her for emergencies. She had deliberated on it in the schoolyard, underneath a covered area, biting her lip as she considered the weather. A bit of rain really couldn’t be a good enough excuse to call her mum to leave work for her. Besides, she didn’t fancy explaining to her mother why she hadn’t taken the bus.
Ergo, walking home in the early September downpour, likely catching hypothermia. Somehow, this was better to her than facing Dylan, Sabrina, and Chase – three peers she’d once considered her closest friends.
After ten minutes of torture, she finally hopped up the front steps to their house, rooting through her pockets for the key. Finding it, she let herself in, immediately sighing in relief. She hung her coat and kicked off her shoes, leaving her bag to dry in the foyer.
“Mum?” she called out, just to be sure no one was home. Silence was her only answer.
She skirted into her room down the hall, picked out some comfortable clothes, and took a long bath. She could practically hear her mum’s nagging in the back of her mind; “Mia Jacqueline Tyler, what on Earth were you thinking, walking home in that monsoon? Are you tryin’ to get bloody frostbitten?”
Feeling sufficiently warmed, Mia left the tub and dressed. Meandering out to the kitchen, she found a pink sticky note on the counter.
Got you a sammie from Route 52’s. I hope to be back before dinner time. Remember to fold your laundry. Love you.
Xx, Mum
“Hell yeah,” Mia muttered excitedly, rushing over to the fridge and pulling out her sandwich. Route 52 was a nearby diner – Mia had grown up going there with her mum. They had brilliant chips and such, but Mia had always liked their ham sandwiches.
She settled down on the sofa, nibbling on one half of her sandwich, and flipped on the television. It was a Friday, so she felt no pressure to sink into her usual routine of bringing out her homework right after getting home, then spending the whole night trying to convince herself to actually do it.
Absently, her mind wandered to what had happened at school that day. She recalled Dylan flippantly shrugging her off and telling her “I mean, come on, Mi. You’re a bit simple, is all.”
She wasn’t too upset about it. After all, she was only fifteen, and definitely didn’t expect to date Dylan long term. They’d been friends for a while, but only went on three “dates.” One of the times was after he convinced her to sneak out while her mum was asleep, exhausted from a long day at work. She had been nervous the whole time that her mum would notice she was gone and lose her mind. Dylan had only been concerned about trying to get her to get into the back of his brother’s car.
No, Mia wasn’t too terribly upset about the breakup. Being called ‘simple’ was offensive to her, though. That did hurt. She was not simple. She was the farthest thing from simple, actually, and Dylan would have known that if he ever tried to talk to her about anything other than football.
She had never told her mother about Dylan. Didn’t think she needed to know, really, since she didn’t think it would last too long. Besides, her mum was always busy, always working in some way or another, always one foot out the door. Mia couldn’t quite remember the last time she’d seen her mother for longer than a day or so, besides during the holidays.
Rose Tyler seemed to be a very important woman. To Mia’s knowledge, she worked in government. International relations or something like that. Her grandad Pete used to as well, but retired when Mia was around nine. Her Uncle Mickey was her mother’s right hand at work. Whatever they did on a daily basis, Mia knew it had to be pretty serious. Important and serious. So important that Mia had to spend a good bit of her childhood with her grandparents, until her mum was able to take care of her full time.
She understood. Really, she did. Raising a child on your own couldn’t have been easy, and Rose Tyler was a very important woman.
Mia knew nothing of her father. One time, she had asked her mum about him. She was six, and was starting to realise that her family wasn’t quite the same as the other kids in her school. So, she’d gone home that day and said, “Mummy, do I have a daddy?”
Rose tensed, and for a moment, Mia thought that she was angry with her. Then her mother’s eyes softened. She reached out to her, taking her small hands. “Yes,” she answered sincerely, nodding. “Yes, my love, you do. But he…” Her voice hitched, her tone lowering and becoming more and more sombre. “He went away, darling. He went to the stars. He’s gone now.”
Passed away, of course. It was the best explanation, Mia thought as she looked back on it. She remembered her mum being a bit emotionally unavailable when she was quite young, had vague recollections of Nan comforting her during harder times. It made sense that Mum had been dealing with a huge loss, and couldn’t handle everything on her own.
She turned to her work, like many people do when faced with a trauma. Unfortunately for Mia, that meant many hours spent at home by herself, and many summers at Nan and Granddad’s estate, sometimes not seeing her mother for many days.
Sometimes, Mia allowed herself to daydream about what her life could have been like if her father had not died. Mum would be happier, would work much less. She’d spend more time with them. Maybe she’d even get to travel for fun, as she sometimes mentioned wanting to do.
And her dad – well, he’d be… a dad. He’d make terrible jokes and laugh right after. Maybe he’d have a boring hobby like fishing or carpentry, or maybe he’d be more bookish, like her. (Mia loved to read.) One thing that was terribly consistent in all of her dreams was that he’d absolutely love her mum. Would dote on her and give her the peace and relaxation she deserved.
And, of course, he’d love Mia. He would read her a story each night and tuck her in. He would be brilliant.
It was all daydreaming, and Mia knew that whatever Mum had with her father was final for her. She hadn’t dated anyone else, hadn’t even mentioned it.
Mia’s phone rang some time later. She had already finished her sandwich, wrapper discarded on the side table. She turned off the telly and snatched up her phone – Mum calling.
She rolled her eyes a bit. She could predict the conversation. Mum was sorry but she’d have to stay late, and don’t wait up for her, and don’t forget the laundry.
She hit accept. “Hi, Mum.”
The voice that came through was not her mother. It was Uncle Mickey. “Mia. I’m using your mum’s phone. Listen, you have to listen to me and not panic, alright?”
Mia froze, sitting up straight. “Is Mum okay?” she asked, terrified. Mickey’s tone was not calm, not sympathetic – it sounded more like… frantic.
“She’s – I can’t say, alright? I need you to pack a bag. Not a suitcase. A bag, like a bookbag, something that can fit on your shoulder. Pack some clothes and a few essentials, but nothing unnecessary. Got it?”
Mia’s jaw opened and closed a few times. After a second, she stammered out, “Yeah. I got it. What do I do after –”
“I’m comin’ over to get you. Don’t call anyone else, you hear me? Pack that bag. Don’t answer the door to anyone but me.”
*
Twenty six minutes and seventeen seconds later, Mickey wordlessly drove, knuckles pale on the steering wheel. Mia sat in the passenger side, her bag clutched across her lap. She snuck a look at him, trying to read his face. His eyes were blown wide, and he was perspiring.
“Uncle Mickey?” Her voice was tiny, whispering. Her heart thumped wildly in her chest. She briefly worried about it – she had a slight arrhythmia she took medication for, which was stuffed deep in her bag – but pushed her anxiety aside. “Where are we going?”
After a moment of hesitation, Mickey said, “I’m takin’ you to our headquarters. Your mum is there. She’ll explain everything to you.”
“Headquarters? Like, your work?”
He just nodded, and silence fell again.
Mia swallowed nervously as he pulled the car into a garage, parking completely out of the lines, and quickly ushered her inside of an elevator, swivelling his head around as he did. Mia’s eyes narrowed. What was he so worried for? What could possibly be happening that was this serious?
Hurriedly, Mickey led her through some bland-looking offices and swiped an access card through a few doors. Some employees made eye contact with Mia, a few wordlessly nodding to her, others looking away guiltily.
Finally, Mickey pushed open the door to a big, wide open room that was an absolute mess. There were machines and contraptions everywhere that Mia couldn’t identify, wires all across the ground, and a huge, circular machine in the centre of the room. There were people in uniforms bustling about, shouting haptics and reading off of computers.
In the middle of it was her mother, surrounded by some people wearing white lab coats. She seemed to be speaking to them heatedly.
“Rose,” Mickey said as they approached, catching her attention.
Mia’s mother whipped around, eyes falling on her, immediately softening. Her expression fell and she stepped forward, wrapping Mia in a crushing hug. “Oh, Mia. My baby.”
Mia heard something in her mum’s voice break, and felt her shudder. “Mum?” she asked tentatively, eyes darting around the room, “What the hell is going on?” Rose pulled back, keeping her hands on Mia’s arms. She had tears heavily rolling down her cheeks. Mia immediately felt herself beginning to cry as well. “Mum, please, what’s –”
“I’m so sorry for this,” her mum told her in a whisper. “I never wanted to do this. I… Oh, Mia. You have to trust me.”
Mia nodded, furiously wiping away her tears. “I do, Mum. I trust you.”
Rose put her palms to her daughter’s cheeks, keeping their gazes locked. “Listen to me, baby. There’s something very bad happening. There are some people that are after us.”
Mia’s face contracted in horror. “After us?”
“Yes. I know I always told you that you’re special, but I wasn’t exaggerating, Mia. You’re –”
“Director Tyler,” someone interrupted pointedly, “the canon is ready. You have 90 seconds.”
Mia’s eyes darted to the person speaking, then to her mum, then to the machine in the back which had started to make a whirring noise and light up. “What is that?”
“I built it, I…” Rose trailed off, rummaging through her pockets and pulling out two envelopes. She shoved them into Mia’s hands. “Here, I wrote you some instructions. Once you get there, you have to find a man called the Doctor, okay? I’m not sure exactly what he’ll look like, but if we’re lucky, he’ll be wearing a pinstriped suit and a brown coat, and he –”
Suddenly, someone was shoving a harness onto Mia’s shoulders, buckling it. She was being dragged into the centre of the room, perfectly in the middle of the machine, the one that was whirring and did they call it a canon?
Her mum was backing away, wringing her hands, tears freshly pouring down. “I wrote him a letter, too!” she said, pointing to the ones that Mia was still holding.
“Mum, what the hell is happening?” Mia cried out, panic seeping into her bones. The whirring was getting louder and louder.
“You’re gonna be fine!” Rose yelled back desperately. “It won’t hurt, I promise! Read your letter! Remember to find the Doc–”
With a huge flash of light, and a crackle of energy, Mia Tyler was gone.