Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Jackson Akintola feigned sleep. He always got restless this time of the year. There just was too much excitement. He tossed and turned in bed awhile. If I fall asleep now, he thought, then I could skip over the night, and be that much closer to Christmas! He tried letting his mind go blank; maybe sleep would just come to him. It wasn't working. He sighed and sat up. What could he do to pass the time? He looked around his room at all his things packed in big cardboard moving boxes. He felt strange to be leaving this house. He lived here his whole life. Everything had been perfect. Him, his mum, and his dad. All together. In this house. Not anymore.

Something caught his eye. He stumbled out of bed, and began digging through one of his boxes. It was all his old comic books. This will do. Mum can't get mad at me for staying up if I'm reading. He grabbed a random issue, and sat back on his bed. Clicking on a flashlight, he began to read. He got lost in the story until suddenly he heard a wheezing, groaning noise. He glanced out his window at the cold winter night. Maybe a draft was coming through? He abandoned that reasoning. He couldn't feel any cold air blowing. He put the comic book on his nightstand, and went right up to his window. Peaking down the London streets he tried to find something, anything, but not a soul was in sight.

Jackson sat back on the bed deciding that this was just one of those weird times when strange, unexplainable things occurred. Those had been happening more and more recently. First, they had the Giggle, then the Day of Dust, and just last May they had the Wish World and the battle that followed it in central London. Jackson's dad had always chalked these things up to mass hallucinations from chemicals in the water. Jackson's mum always thought otherwise though.

THUD!!! Jackson jumped. Slowly he looked up at his ceiling. THUMP! THUMP! The entire house shook. Somebody was up there. Somebody was on their roof! A shiver went down Jackson's spine. Or something, he thought. He jumped under his covers, and hastily pulled the blanket over his head. It's happening again! Isn't it? Visions of nightmares swirled in his mind. He pictured some big hulking beast with blood red eyes and teeth as sharp as knives. There was probably one on every street! Everyone was gonna be attacked by some monster who had escaped from Hell!

A revelation then hit him. It's Christmas time! Santa must be doing a practice round! He rushed out of bed, and ran to the kitchen. He hastily pulled out a plate and cup, and prepared the offerings. Maybe, if he was lucky, Santa would even let him open a present early! He threw open the door to his mother's bedroom.

"Mum! Mum!" he shouted.

Angel slowly opened her eyes, "What is it Jackson?"

"It's Santa!"

"What? Christmas isn't for another week."

"But listen!" Jackson fell silent letting Angel listen to the thumping on the roof.

After a pause she said, "Jackson, that's hail."

"Look outside! It's not! It's Santa!" Jackson was so excited he was hardly breathing.

Angel got up groggily, and pulled a pink robe tightly around herself. She drew the curtains open to take a peak. The sky was clear. The stars were twinkling. The thumping continued. A feeling of indignation fell over her. Who the hell was on her roof? She slid her slippers on, and marched outside with Jackson trailing excitedly behind her. Standing out in the street she gazed up at the roof to see a little blue box sat parked.

"What the hell?" Angel muttered in a panic.

"Oh hello!" said a voice; clearly a woman's.

Angel's eye practically bulged out of her head as she noticed a woman with blonde hair on her knees staring down at her. "Do you mind telling me what you think you're doing up there!?!"

"I'm not quite sure myself," she giggled. "She just sort of dropped me off here."

"She did?" Angel pause. "Who did?"

The woman stood up with a wobble and sauntered over to the blue box. With a pat she said, "she did!"

"That's a box!" Angel called back.

The woman whispered something to the box, and then placed a little kiss on it.

Angel took a deep breath, "Listen, whatever game this is... you have to stop! You could get hurt up there!"

"Nah! I'll be fi-" the woman twisted her ankle stumbling towards the ledge, but caught herself before falling. "Fine," her voice wavered as she repeated herself.

"You've clearly had a little too much to drink! Practicing for Christmas are we?" Angel let out a little whimperish laugh trying to break the tension.

"Me? Drunk?" A manic laugh escaped her lungs. "A little glass of milk is more my style, luv."

Jackson's heart leapt. "I've got some ready for you!"

"You have?!" the woman grinned. "Now isn't that sweet?"

"I'll go get it!" Jackson dashed inside.

"Why don't you come down now!" Angel suggested. "Nice and slowly!"

"Well, if you insist!" The woman ran toward the chimney, and jumped tumbling down into the house.

In a panic Angel ran inside to find the woman lying face down in the fireplace. Jackson walked up to his mother holding a glass of milk and plate of cookies. It felt like an eternity that the two of them just stared at the woman's body. Jackson eventually decided to break the long uncomfortable silence, "Is she dead?"

As if on cue the woman leapt up. Her blue patterned dress was in tatters, and her white shirt was soaked with sweat. She smiled that big toothy grin that she'd given them earlier. That's when Jackson and Angel noticed that her eyes were glowing golden as if fire was swirling within them. Both of them were speechless. The woman's entire body gave out, and she fell to the ground once more. Jackson now knew for certain that this was going to be one of those days where strange, unexplainable things happened. He looked up at Angel, "Here we go again."

Chapter Text

Jackson knelt on the floor. He was mesmerized by this woman laying on their sofa. Angel was all in a panic on the phone in the kitchen, but Jackson instinctually knew he was safe. Yes, the woman had acted a little manic on their roof, but it was clear she meant no harm to them. For some reason he couldn't take his eyes off her. She was very beautiful, but Jackson knew that wasn't it.

All of a sudden, the light veins in her neck began to glow golden and pulsate. Jackson's brow furrowed, and his hand trembled as he reached out to feel her. The moment his finger tips grazed her skin he felt a sharp jolt like electricity zapping through him. The woman's eyes sprung open, and Jackson jumped back. She smiled at him, and he quickly grabbed the plate of cookies and glass of milk off the end table. She stared at it hesitantly.

"We made these for you," Jackson said.

The woman looked confused, "All this? How long was I out for?"

"Only about fifteen minutes."

"You made all this in fifteen minutes!" the woman said in awe.

"No, we made them last weekend."

She sat up, "You were expecting me?"

"Well, of course."

"Of course... Of course... Obviously..." she trailed off. "Sorry, still not getting it."

Jackson placed the glass and plate onto the floor. He reached into the pocket of his pajama pants, and pulled out a slip of paper. The woman slowly took and unfolded it. Her eyes quickly grazed over the writing all done in crayon. Realization dawned on her. This was a Christmas list! A grin crept up on her face. As she mouthed an "oooh!" Jackson smiled back at her, his eyes gleaming.

"Now let's see here," she said. Pulling a little leather wallet from her dress, she flicked it open. "Jackson Akintola," she read, "10-years-old, attends Coal Hill Academy, and is most certainly on the nice list." She glanced back over at his list and paused. Leaning in, she whispered to him cheekily, "I'll see what I can do."

Jackson squealed a little excitedly.

"Now, if you don't mind," the woman said politely, "I'm starving." She grabbed the plate off the floor and began piling cookies into her mouth. One after another, she was devouring whole cookies in one bite. Crumbs fell from her lips as she finished the plate off. "Milk!" She downed the glass.

As the woman handed the empty glass back to Jackson, Angel walked in. Her hands were down in front of her holding her phone flat against her stomach. Both heads turned to face her. She awkwardly shuffled into the room putting some space between Jackson and the woman. "Who are you?" she asked.

Before the woman could answer Jackson shouted, "It's Santa!"

Angel sighed and turned to him. "She's not. Look at her."

"Can you say that again?" the woman interrupted.

"Say what?"

"That last bit! Repeat it for me!"

"Look at her?"

"Am I!?!" the woman grinned.

"Are you what?"

"A her!!!"

"You don't know?"

The woman began rubbing and feeling her face, pulling and stretching the skin in all sorts of directions. Her hands fell to her upper lip. "No more mustache," she whispered softly. She abruptly jumped up from the sofa, and got really close to Angel's face. "Please, tell me honestly," she said, her eyes welling up like a puppy dog's, "am I still sexy?"

Angel moved back for some air. How the hell was she meant to answer that? "Umm," she paused for a long while. Whatever this woman was on, it was clearly making her mad. "Technically," Angel said slowly, the confusion ringing out in her words.

The woman sighed, and fell back onto the sofa, "Thank God," she muttered.

Angel shut her eyes in frustration. "Just tell me! Who are you!"

"I thought we established Santa," Jackson added.

"Santa's not a woman!" she snapped.

"Santa's magic," said Jackson. "Could he not change what he looks like?"

"SANTA'S NOT RE-"

Knock! Knock! Knock!

"I didn't know we were expecting company," the woman said.

Angel took a deep breath, straightened the wrinkles from her robe, and walked to the door. Opening it she revealed two men standing in the doorway. One was fat, the other was thin, and both were in black police uniforms. The site was almost cartoonish. If Angel hadn't been in such a panic she might've laughed.

"Good evening, ma'am," said the thin one. "We got a report of some intoxicated woman mucking about?"

"She's inside," Angel answered. She moved over letting the police men enter.

As the fat one came in he said, "You are aware there's a police telephone box on your roof?"

Angel let out a little groan.

The officer nodded in some sort of sympathy, and continued into her house. As the pair walked into the sitting room, the woman's eye went wide, and she hopped up. "You phoned the police!?!" she yelled.

Jackson stared at his mother, his eyes filled with rage. If there was one way someone could shatter their 10-year-old's trust it was to phone the police on Santa.

"What the hell was I meant to do?" Angel called. "There was some crazy lady running on top my roof!"

The fat one began to pull handcuffs out. "Listen ma'am," he said to the woman. "Let's make this easy on all of us."

The woman looked around the room before quickly saying, "Wait! I can explain!"

Angel laughed sarcastically. It was gonna be fun watching her try to spin this one.

"I work for the Unified Intelligence Task Force!"

Angel's jaw practically fell to the floor. She was seriously gonna say she worked for UNIT? Weren't they those folks with that big building in the center of London? Didn't they deal with the Sea Devil incident that happened a while back? This woman was seriously trying to wiggle her way out of this by claiming to work for them? She couldn't have picked anything less believable.

The woman fished in her pockets and pulled out a leather wallet. It was a badge! Angel was amazed. She actually had a UNIT badge! It had to be forgery or something. The officers took it, and spent a good while inspecting it.

"Well, it looks real enough," the thin one said. He handed it back to her.

She put the wallet back in her pocket. "I'm here on official UNIT business." She pulled another wallet out. This time it was a warrant.

"What exactly are you investigating, ma'am?" he asked.

"Sorry, can't say. Top secret... But if you need to verify my claims, feel free to call them up. Kate Stewart can personally confirm."

"What was your code name again?"

"The Doctor."

Chapter Text

The police had been gone for about fifteen minutes. By this point, Angel was freaking out. “You’re not… You can’t be,” she said.

“Okay! Fine!” the Doctor threw her hands up. “You got me! I’m not a UNIT agent. Not anymore.”

“So that badge. What? Is it expired?”

“Psychic paper,” she declared, “makes them see whatever I want!”

Angel looked horrified, “Get out of my house!!!”

The Doctor stumbled back a little bit. Her big grin faded and was replaced with a look that was much more somber. “Alright,” she said, a lump forming in her throat. She began to back away slowly. “Before I go, can I borrow a ladder?”

“What?”

“My, umm, box. It’s on your roof.”

Angel and Jackson later watched as the Doctor stumbled onto the roof. She stayed silent. No goodbye. No thanks for all the help. Nothing. She pulled out a key from around her neck and unlocked the door. Before heading in she turned to face them. She gave Jackson a little wink and then went into the box.
What, Angel thought, is she just gonna try to hide in there? Please, it’s late. Just let me get to bed. Let me forget that any of this ever happened.
The light on top of the box began to flash. Cold, bitter, wind gushed towards Angel and Jackson. They squinted and raised their hands to block it, but by the time they managed to get a good look at the roof again, the box was gone. Must’ve been some trick of the light, Angel thought. Deep down, though, she knew. She knew that this wasn’t some sort of trick of prank. All of this had been real, and she just knew Jackson would never shut up about it again.

Chapter Text

In the following week Jackson obsessed over the Doctor that came to visit them that night. In school he got in trouble for rambling on during his lessons. He almost got into a fight because none of his classmates believed him. On the playground all he would do is play ‘Doctor’ where he and his friends would go around the school yard investigating for the paranormal. Angel was beginning to get quite worried about him. One afternoon she went into his room and found stacks of papers. All of them were hand made comic strips done in crayons and markers all about the Doctor. This was a proper obsession.

It was Christmas Eve now. An unusually warm Christmas Eve nonetheless. Angel decided to take Jackson to the local park. They had gone there often in the past as a whole family, usually after church since it was right down the street.

Angel was sitting on a park bench. She had a book with her she had checked out from the library, and was eager to finish it before it was due back. Every now and again she would glance up from the pages to check on Jackson running about on the playground. When she looked up this time, she caught him explaining to some poor girl that one time a blue box appeared on his roof with Santa Claus inside. Angel cringed a little, but decided to not do anything about it. She just chalked it up to kids being kids. She probably would’ve acted a similar way too if that had happened to her when she was ten.

In the middle of reading a page, she felt a tap on her shoulder. Turning around she saw a big man grinning down at her. He was old. His face was like worn leather. His skin was dark, a tone very similar to Angel’s. On his head was snow white hair, cut short. He said nothing at first, just kept staring at her with that dopey smile.

“Umm, hello,” Angel said, trying to break the tension.

There was a twinkle in the man’s eyes. “Hello,” his voice rang like merry bells.

“Can I help you with something?”

“Might I suggest, you keep a better eye on your son?”

“Excuse me?”

“You should be more careful,” he whispered.

Angel jolted upward. Her eyes quickly grazed over the whole park. Where was Jackson? She couldn’t find him. “Jackson!” she called.

The weird man tapped her on the shoulder again. Grinning impishly he pointed down the road where Jackson was running.

“JACKSON!!! Get back here!!!”

Jackson quickly looked behind him, but then ignored her and kept running.

“If you don’t stop right now!” Angel stuttered as she thought what to say. “I’ll call Santa and cancel Christmas!”

Jackson didn’t even pause. He kept going. Angel huffed and began chasing after him. She quickly got closer to him, but right before she could yank him by the shirt he turned left into the church.

That’s when she saw it. Right in front of the altar was that blue box. Cast on it were beams of sunlight shining through mosaics on either side of the walls giving it an ethereal quality. The door was cracked open slightly, so that a little sliver of light could be seen. Angel slowly approached. Her hand was out trembling. She felt the fear bubble up inside her, but she couldn’t run away. Half her mind told her to grab Jackson and get out of this place. She just couldn’t though. It was like she was under some sort of spell.

Her finger tips grazed the old wood of the box and then stopped. Should she do this? Should she peek inside? Right as she pushed the door inward suddenly the Doctor came stepping out of it.

The Doctor paused, and looked around taking in Angel’s shock and Jackson’s astonishment. “Oh hello!”

Jackson ran up, and hugged her wrapping his arms around her waist.

“It’s good to see you Jackson.”

Now there were a lot of things Angel could’ve said at this moment. Millions of thoughts swirled in her mind, but the only one that made it to her lips were, “Are you wearing the same clothes?”

“Yeah, sorry, busy day. Haven’t had time to change!”

“It’s been a week!”

“Has it?” the Doctor said, confused. Glancing down she checked on some gadget she was holding. To Angel it looked like some type of alarm clock with wires sticking out all over it, and one old fashioned antenna poking out of the top. The Doctor flicked the screen a couple times. The numbers on the clock fizzed out, and changed to the current time. “Well that explains my trouble,” she said.

“What the hell is that thing?”

“It’s an Artron energy detector gizmo… thingy.”

Jackson giggled a little.

“I’m still trying to come up with a cooler name,” the Doctor said.

“Yeah, that doesn’t answer my question,” Angel replied.

“Well, why not? Try to keep up. Jackson gets it, don’t you?”

Jackson nodded agreement though in reality he only partially understood. It was clear the Doctor was on some sort of quest, and she needed the Artron energy detector gizmo to figure it out.

“Now,” the Doctor said looking around, “it brought me here, but why? What are you guys doing here?”

“I saw you,” Jackson said, “dashing about, so I followed you in here.”

“There’s something about this building. Something important, but I’m missing it!”

Jackson titled his head up, looking at the grand mosaics adorning the walls. It was the typical religious stuff. Jesus was up on the cross. The crown of thorns was on his head, and his face was tilted down in defeat. Kneeling and crying at his feet were two angels.

The lights in the church begin to flicker. “That’s wrong,” the Doctor said. She pulled out some sort of remote, and pointed it at the lights. The little remote let out a high pitched buzz.

“The lights are probably old,” Angel said. “That’s all. This place is practically ancient.”

The Doctor ignored her as she looked at her remote very intently. Jackson looked back at the mosaics. Had one of those angels moved? He swore before that both angels had their faces covered, but now one of them was showing their eyes slightly. The eyes weren’t looking up at Jesus, but instead were staring at Jackson, piercing into his soul. It sent a shiver down his spine, and moved closer to the Doctor.

She was busy cross checking her little remote with her Artron energy detector gizmo. Jackson grabbed her dress, and tugged at it a little to get her attention. “Doctor,” he said. “That angel moved.”

The Doctor looked up from what she was doing. A very grave look came upon her face.

“You’re just seeing this Jackson,” Angel retorted.

All of a sudden the Doctor became very stern. The clown seen a few minutes prior was replaced by something much more terrifying. “If you’re not gonna listen to your kid then shut up.”

Angel was taken aback, “but… kids lie all the time! They make up tall tales!”

“No,” the Doctor protested, “they tell the truth. Kids are brutally honest. Every parent knows that.”

“Are you questioning my parenting?!?! Cos if you are, let me tell you-”

The Doctor suddenly cupped her hand over Angel’s mouth to silence her. She harshly whispered, “No, let me tell you. Kids are truthful. A little too much in all honesty. It’s just grown ups never believe them. They’re too stuck in their ways. They have the world all figured out in a neat little box that when a kid tells them something that shatters it they disregard it.” She softly released her.

Angel with full force slapped the Doctor across the face. “Don’t you dare lay a hand on me again!”

The Doctor rubbed her cheek which was now red and tender.

Both the Doctor and Angel paused to take a breath. That’s when Angel suddenly realized, “Where’s Jackson?”

Chapter Text

Jackson was missing. Angel spun in a circle looking for him. Where could he have gone? He was here one moment, and then all of a sudden, poof, he disappeared. He couldn’t have gotten far. The room seemed so much darker now, like a shadow engulfed them. The only light was shining onto them through the stained glass windows.

“Get back,” the Doctor muttered in a grave tone. The Doctor was grabbing her hand, and attempting to pull her back. Angel snatched her hand away. “Please, listen to me.”

Angel stepped into the looming darkness. She squinted. There was something in here. The faint outline of a person perhaps? They were too tall to be Jackson. Maybe they’d seen him? “Hello,” she called.

The Doctor shouted, “Get out of there!”

Angel ignored her. She stepped a little bit farther. The wooden floorboards of the church creaked beneath her feet. “Hello,” she repeated. “Are you the vicar?” Still no response. “Listen,” Angel spoke as she walked forward, “I’m just looking for my son. Have you seen him?” She grazed the figure with her finger tips. It was hard, smooth, and icy cold to the touch. Angel began to laugh. It was a statue!

She turned around to head back to the Doctor, but suddenly it was so much darker. The little patch of light cast from the stained glass window that was present moments ago had vanished. The only light left was being emanated off that blue box thing the Doctor carried around.

All of a sudden, she heard the sound of a match being struck and a sulfurous smell filled the air. With a little flicker of light, the Doctor now stood next to her.

“Is everything alright?” the Doctor whispered her breath hot against Angel’s ear.

“What’s gone on with the lights?”

The Doctor continued to whisper, “I was so stupid. How could I’ve missed that?”

“Miss what?” Angel asked.

“The windows…” the Doctor trailed off.

“You’re not making any sense!”

“Angel,” the Doctor’s voice broke a bit, “what exactly did you find down here?”

“There’s just a statue or something.”

“Famous last words,” she muttered. “Just a statue.”

Angel rolled her eyes. “Listen,” she said, “whatever game this is, has to stop. I need to find Jackson and get out of here.”

The Doctor ignored her and continued walking into the shadows. Angel followed in an attempt to not get lost in the dark. That’s when Angel realized:

“That match! It hasn’t gotten any shorter!”

“Oh, just a little invention of mine.”

“Electric is it?”

“Not exactly,” the Doctor told her, and that was the end of it.

The Doctor led the way to the statue as Angel trailed behind her. The mysterious match casted a soft, warm, light forward. The shadows parted, and the orange glow of the match faintly revealed a cracked stone face. The once black eyes on the statue were scratched out. She waved the match around to get a broader view. Through the quick glimpse, Angel saw the statue had its almost claw-like hand reaching out.

Suddenly, the match fell out of the Doctor’s hand. In a flash her and Angel were plunged into darkness. The Doctor’s breathing became heavy. Angel was about to reach into her pocket to fish out her mobile when she felt the Doctor yank at her hand. She yelped as she fumbled through the dark. The Doctor dragged her so fast that her legs could barely keep up. Without warning, the Doctor let go causing Angel to trip over herself. Before she could figure out what happened, she slammed into the floor.

She laid there for a moment in shock. These weren’t the old wooden floorboards of the church. This was colder, and the room smelled slightly of aluminum foil. Angel looked up, and heard the Doctor moving about in the pitch black. Angel slowly got up, wobbling in the process. Whatever this place was, it wasn’t the church. Maybe she pulled them into the vestry? She took a nervous step forward and heard her boots clank on the ground. “Doctor,” Angel said, “where are we?”

“Sorry,” the Doctor whispered, “controls have been acting a bit funny lately.” She sounded a good way away. “Just a tick.”

Light flashed catching Angel off guard. She squinted, and raised her hand. All around her white light flooded in. As everything came into focus, she realized she was in a vast room. Along these walls were these roundels that glowed. At the center of the room was a massive glass column. All along it were panels with little buttons and switches. Angel’s mouth hung open as she took in the size of it all.

She walked deeper in. Slowly lowering her hand she saw this place was lived in. All about were some potted plants, book cases, and chairs. The room had ramps swirling up and down to different levels.

“Sorry about the light,” the Doctor said. “Didn’t mean to blind you like that.” At that central pillar she clicked a few buttons and the roundels flashed, so now they alternated red and green. “See! Very festive!”

“What the hell is this place?”

“It’s the TARDIS.”

“English! Please!”

“I’m a wanderer in space and time. This place is my ship. My home.”

“But… How did we get here?”

“That little blue box.”

“Huh?”

“The blue box! Pay attention!”

“What do you mean the blue box?!”

“We’re inside it! Right now!”

Angel ran back to the doors.

“Ah, I wouldn’t if I were you.”

She spun back around and gave the Doctor a look.

“We’re right now in flight.”

“I don’t bloody care we’re in flight! We have to get back and find Jackson!”

The Doctor walked over to Angel and took her by the hand, “About that…”

Angel’s stomach dropped. She did not like that look. Whatever the Doctor had to say it certainly wasn’t going to be good.

“Jackson’s gone.”

“Gone?” Angel stared like the Doctor had two heads. “Doctor, he’s ten. He can’t have gotten that far. Now let’s go.” She pulled her hands away and went to the door. As the door flung open, a strong breeze pushed her back. Outside was a flashing swirl of many colours dipping together like paint in water. The Doctor dashed over and slammed it shut. Angel stuttered a while, “I think I’ve seen this trick before. It has something to do with mirrors, right? Something about lights being reflected?”

The Doctor crossed her arms, “It’s not a trick. We’re right now on a little sleigh ride.”

“Where?”

“Christmas! 1955!”

“Why exactly?”

“Because that’s where Jackson will be.”

“No he won’t. Jackson was born 2015.”

“Yeah, and Dua Lipa was born 1995, but that doesn’t mean she didn’t perform in ancient Mesopotamia. Time’s not always linear.”

“Okay, sure, but not all of us have time machines! And for the moment, I’ll believe you took Dua Lipa to Mesopotamia, but how did Jackson manage to end up in 1955?!?!”

The Doctor screamed, “That’s what I’ve been trying to explain if you’d shut up with your idiotic questions for five minutes!”

Angel stood undignified. She wanted to scream. She wanted to just lose it. The Doctor acted like everything she said was normal, and Angel wanted to pull her back to reality. Maybe then she’d realize just how mental she sounded.

“Good,” the Doctor gave a small curtsey. “Now, that statue we saw back in the church, it wasn’t exactly normal. It was a being from another plane of existence. A scavenger. A hunter. Known as the Weeping Angel.” She paused to make sure Angel was still with her. She took the silence as a confirmation of understanding. “They in this plane are quantum locked as statues. They can only move when no one’s looking, which in most cases would be fine, but they are fast. Impossibly fast! They can move in the blink of an eye.”

“Okay,” Angel said. “But what exactly happened to Jackson?”

“When they touch you, they zap you back to the past, and feast off the residual artron energy. Their victims get trapped in the past where they live out the rest of their lives with only the glimmer of hope that they might one see their loved ones again once they are incredibly old.”

Angel took a deep breath.

“Which would be a problem if we didn’t have a time machine.”

Chapter Text

Angel stumbled out of the TARDIS. She turned to examine the old, wooden box. They were now on a street corner. She moved around and felt all four sides of the box. Maybe there was some sort of trap door mechanism in the floor? She quickly dropped that line of thinking. It didn't make any sense.

Glancing around and it seemed like they were still in London. Could this really be 1955 though? And more importantly where was Jackson? She walked down the street, and saw some old cars parked on the side. This couldn't really be the past though. How easy would it be to fake all this? Just park some vintage cars on the street, and tell someone it's the past.

A homeless man was sitting on a bench reading a newspaper. Angel bent down a little to inspect the front page. 24th December, 1955, it read. She still couldn't believe it though. This had to be some elaborate prank. Someone (the Doctor probably) must've rented out some old cars, printed some fake newspapers, and closed off this street to wind Angel up. The homeless man pushed down the paper and locked eyes with her. She jumped back and stuttered, "Sorry, just trying to see the paper."

The Doctor then stood beside Angel. "So," she said, "now do you believe me?"

Angel looked around, eyes all wide, saying nothing. By all logic she couldn't accept it, but all the signs pointed to this being 1955. The Doctor really was a traveller in time and space, and she really did have a magic blue box. She took a long, deep breath. "Where's Jackson?" she asked calmly, her voice wavering a little.

The Doctor suddenly jolted upwards like she had forgotten what they were initially here to do. "Good question," she said. "I suppose I could've gotten the landing wrong by a few hours."

Angel paused for a moment. The gears turned in her head, processing everything that had happened today, and then she sobbed. Collapsing onto the ground, she held herself. Tears streamed down her face. The Doctor reached out to comfort Angel, but then pulled back. Angel looked up and stopped, "what?"

Stuttering, the Doctor nervously said, "Nothing."

"No, tell me, what is it?"

After another long silence, the Doctor got onto Angel's level. "I promise, we will get Jackson back. I will do everything in my power to save him. I will not rest until he is safe."

Angel stood up and wiped the tears from her eyes, "What now?"

The Doctor pulled out her funny remote thing from earlier and began buzzing it all around.

"What is that thing anyways?"

"Sonic screwdriver."

"That's a screwdriver?"

"And it's sonic."

Angel giggled, "Have you never seen a screwdriver before."

The Doctor gripped it tightly as she blushed, "Yes."

"So you are aware, that looks nothing like a screwdriver?"

"I have a very liberal interpretation of what the word screwdriver means," the Doctor said in a high pitched voice. "Now, if you'll excuse me," she said, her voice returning to normal, "I'm going to keep scanning for residual artron energy." The sonic screwdriver whirred and screeched. The Doctor marched down the street and Angel followed.

Eventually they arrived at the door of a corner shop. The Doctor turned to face Angel, "He's in here." Angel nodded, and they went into the shop.

It was a very run down place. The Doctor sauntered right up to the front counter. There was nobody. Nearby a small radio crackled with static.

"Lunch break, maybe?" Angel suggested.

The Doctor glanced at a clock, "At ten in the morning?" She jumped over the counter and pulled back a curtain with a paper that read 'employees only' taped to it. "Hello!"

All of a sudden a balding man with a leathery face appeared, "Sorry ma'am we're closed right now. Bit of an emergency."

The Doctor gave a quick buzz from her sonic screwdriver and then whispered, "No, not you."

The shop keeper looked confused.

"Sorry," the Doctor said, "is anyone else working with you?"

"Nope, just myself, now please I have to go."

Angel stepped behind the counter, "What's wrong?"

"There's this boy having a fit!"

Pushing past the shopkeeper, Angel went to take a look. Jackson's body was face down on the floor convulsing back and forth with violent tremors. Angel quickly got onto her knees, and held Jackson up, turning him to face her. Some puffy white foam trailed out his mouth, and dribbled down his chin. A quiet, deep growling was bubbling up in the back of his throat. Angel lightly shook him, "Jackson! Jackson!" Her heart pounded so loud that she could feel it in her entire body. She shook him a little harder.

By now the Doctor had leapt down onto the floor beside her. She grabbed Jackson's face, and angled it towards her. Jackson's eyes had a twinge of blue in them, not just in the iris, but in the whites and the pupil as well. It was like viewing them through a deep blue filter. The Doctor got out her sonic screwdriver, and began zapping the light into his eyes.

Angel with a fierce intensity swatted the Doctor's hand away, "Put your laser spanner away, and do something bloody useful!"

"I am being useful!" the Doctor shouted back.

The growl in Jackson's throat grew. Angel held him closer. "You're gonna be okay, baby," she whispered. She knew that deep down the reassurance was more for her than it was for him. She felt Jackson get warmer. "Doctor, he's burning up!"

The Doctor muttered something to herself. Angel could tell that the gears in her head were turning, and that the Doctor was probably a hundred steps ahead of them.

Angel turned to the shopkeeper, "Why don't you do something?!?"

The shopkeeper stumbled forward, "I've never seen anything like this."

"I don't care! Phone for an ambulance or something!"

"Yes ma'am!" The shopkeeper stumbled to the phone.

Jackson's growl had now become a scream. Both Angel and the Doctor had jumped back slightly. The scream was high pitched and unwavering giving it a slightly artificial feel.

Chapter Text

The shopkeeper could hear the screaming as he was on the phone. The static of the nearby radio grew and mixed with the yell. It all filled the shopkeeper’s ears: fizzling, crackling, yelling. Eventually, Jackson’s scream grew fainter. The shopkeeper paused as he tried to talk to the operator on the other end. Was the screaming growing fainter or was the static getting louder?

He dashed over to the radio, pulling the telephone wire taunt as he turned off the radio with the dial. He felt the click of the dial hitting the off setting, but the static still crackled through the speaker. The shopkeeper mumbled curses under his breath as he picked up the radio, and prepared to slam it against the counter.

His arm was powered up in the air like a wind up toy ready to release. He paused though as the static suddenly stopped. Breathing a sigh of relief, he placed it back down gently. Turning back to face the base of the telephone the radio made a pop. He spun back around. Music was playing, very strange music.

It was like a weird sort of opera with lots and lots of voices singing at once. He could make out different pitches and tones as the song waivered. It had a celestial quality. The individual tones of the singers weaved and mixed creating a sound that was unlike anything on this earth.

A blood curdling scream snapped the shopkeeper out of his dream like haze. He dashed to the back, dropping the phone in the process. Angel was on the ground holding Jackson’s body. Limp. Unmoving. The shopkeeper swallowed. Angel screamed again and again. It was the type of scream that’s locked inside deep of everyone that comes straight from your core. It was the kind of scream that’s only released when faced with a primal fear.

The Doctor was back slightly. Her face stood like a mask. All her stoic features were locked into place. The shopkeeper wondered what it would take for that mask to shatter.

Angel looked up at the Doctor. “You,” she stabbed in a bitter tone, “You did this.”

The Doctor didn’t fight back or argue. The mask just stood in place.

A fire bubbled up in Angel, “Say. Something.”

“I’m… sorry,” the Doctor shivered.

Angel stood up, “Bullshit!”

The Doctor walked back slightly. Was she afraid?

“This is all your fault! You dragged us into this!”

The Doctor was quiet now, “I know.”

Angel stepped forward, and gave the Doctor a shove.

Jackson’s leg twitched. The shopkeeper gasped.

The Doctor straightened her shirt.

“I’m sorry,” the shopkeeper interrupted, “but I think he just moved.”

“Huh?” the Doctor said.

Jackson’s fingers wiggled for a split second.

“He’s alive!” Angel exclaimed. A little laugh spilled out of her.

The Doctor got down, and lifted up Jackson’s hand, “He’s too cold.”

“But we saw him move,” Angel argued.

Suddenly, they noticed Jackson’s eyes moving behind his eyelids.

The Doctor examined Jackson’s body, “Cadaveric spasm, maybe?”

“What’s that?” Angel asked.

“Muscle twitches after death from residual nerve activity.”

Angel nodded.

Whispering to herself, the Doctor noted, “But that wouldn’t affect the eyes.”

The shopkeeper stayed back. The Doctor seemed to understand the situation far greater than he did. He let his mind wander a bit. He drifted off to the song on the radio faintly coming from the front of the shop. How beautiful it was. Its melodious tones flowed through him. This otherworldly opera filled his ears. It put a funny feeling in his stomach though. That type of fluttery feeling you get when you run into someone you fancy.

The Doctor looked up from Jackson’s body confused, “What the hell am I listening to?”

The shopkeeper cleared his throat, “Must be some sort of new Christmas carol, ma’am.”

Jackson sprung up, sitting with his back perfectly straight giving them all a spook. His eyes flickered open. Angel saw his eyes were still blue, but not in the way they were before. Now it was just the iris that was a deep blue. “Transfer complete,” he whispered with a smile.

Chapter Text

Jackson stood up as everyone around him stared in shock. He examined his body, noting first his fingers, and then feeling at his chest. No one could say anything.

Angel swooped in and scooped Jackson into her arms. She placed a kiss on his forehead. Jackson didn't react or respond. His face stayed blank. In no way did he reciprocate his mother's affections. Angel stopped and then studied her son. "Jackson?" she muttered.

Jackson didn't reply. He just slowly turned his head upwards to look at her.

As Angel looked into Jackson's eyes, she saw something unfamiliar. Goosebumps formed on her skin. This was not her son. She moved back, letting go. Angel felt the Doctor's hand gently on her shoulder. The Doctor urged her backwards, placing herself between Angel and Jackson.

"Who are you?" the Doctor asked.

Not-Jackson twitched his head upward, "My name has been lost to time."

Okay, Angel thought, that's weird.

The Doctor bent down to look into Not-Jackson's eyes, "How exactly did you get in there?"

"Our song."

"Your... song?"

"Transmitted across the planes of existence."

"Okay, sure," the Doctor waved her arms, "but you can't just break through the material plane like that."

"There was a weak point," Not-Jackson glanced at Angel.

The Doctor followed his eyes, "Around Angel?"

Not-Jackson smiled in a way that made everyone's stomach drop, "And Jackson."

"But why?"

"We do not know. We simply exploited the opportunity in front of us."

"Okay, so a Weeping Angel has a body now. So?"

Angel chimed in, "He's one of those statue things we saw?"

Nodding her head, the Doctor muttered, "Yup."

Not-Jackson began to laugh, "You seriously think I'm the only one of my kind? I'm just the beginning."

"Not falling for that," said the Doctor nonchalantly. "Sure, you exploited a weak point in reality to transmit yourself into Jackson's body through your song sung on exactly the right frequency."

Not-Jackson nodded in an unhuman way.

"But your song came out of this," the Doctor picked up the radio. "And I know that weak point definitely isn't big enough to push through onto every radio on the planet. Sorry, but no way you can repeat what's been done on a massive scale."

"I admire your over confidence, Doctor," Not-Jackson said.

The Doctor looked genuinely insulted.

"I have been sent here as an agent, to manipulate the events of this planet."

"Save it," the Doctor said. "You're not manipulating anything while I'm here."

"That's where you're wrong, Doctor. I already have from a certain point of view."

"What?"

"I think the word you'd use is timey wimey."

The Doctor still wasn't getting it.

"December 24th 2025 has sealed your fate. Angel has already met me."

"You're not making any sense!" Angel yelled.

Not-Jackson's face turned stern, "I'm making perfect sense! You're just not paying close enough attention! I would've assumed you'd keep a better eye on your son."

Those words echoed in her mind. Better eye on your son. Who exactly was that man in the park? The one that had said that?

The malicious smile on Not-Jackson's face grew, "It's a fixed point that you meet me."

Angel looked to the Doctor in shock, "But you have a time machine. Time travel is possible! Why don't we just change the future?"

"We can't," the Doctor quickly said. "Fixed points are stuck. We have to follow the pre-established chain of events, or we'll fall into the deepest paradox possible."

"You have to let me go," Not-Jackson whispered.

"This isn't over," the Doctor said.

"Of course not," Not-Jackson grinned.

The Doctor began to march away. In panic, Angel followed.

"I look forward to our final meeting!" he shouted after them. "Christmas! Twenty! Twenty! Five! The end of mankind as we know it! And the rise of our empire!"