Into the Storm

"You're kidding me?!" I said, after a few minutes.

I sighed, and walked up to my bedroom.

I stared at my face in the mirror. I looked depressing. I sighed again, with no idea what to do, I laid down on my bed and shut my eyes.

I suddenly opened my eyes, and sat up when I heard a whooshing sound. I looked at my mirror, and noticed it wasn't showing my reflection.

It was showing the labyrinth.

The mirror was a portal to the dimension the TARDIS supposedly couldn't reach.

I got up, walked over, and touched the glass.

It rippled.

I quickly pulled my hand away in surprise. Was Eleven...?

I reached out again, and this time I felt something pull me towards the mirror.

All I remember as I went flying through the mirror was blacking out, waking up what I assumed to be several hours later.

I sat up, rubbing my head.

I stood up, my leg didn't hurt, so that's good.

I surveyed my surroundings. The labyrinth looked as it did before, I didn't know where to go, or even how to find Eleven.

I slid down the wall, head in hand.

"Eleven, how am I suppose to find you?" I thought.

"You shouldn't have come Nicole."

I froze when I heard his voice in my mind. I shouldn't have come? What?

"Eleven?" I thought, "where are you?"

"Does it matter Nicole? You shouldn't have come, and besides, how would you be able to find me in the labyrinth?"

I froze for a Moment, then smiled.

I took off down a corridor.

Think about it. If telepathic waves are like celltower signals, then, in theory, the signal will get stronger as you get closer to the source.

What I didn't realize until I almost found him was that telepathy waves worked both ways.

After that, it was instinct.

I finally rounded a corner and found him slumped against the back wall, a dirty, torn, thin mess. With a beard.

"You have problems listening, don't you Nicole?" He asked, raising his head to look at me.

"I couldn't go back very easily Eleven."

"Why did you even come?"

"Because of you Eleven," I replied, walking towards him, and kneeling down, "you can't remain trapped here forever, you're not suppose to."

"And how do you know that Nikki?"

Did he just?

"How old are you Eleven?"

"908, why do you even care?"

Okay so he hasn't done The Impossible Astronaut, The curse of the Black Spot, or The Doctor's Wife yet.

"Eleven, you have asked this of your companions on many occasions," I said, placing a hand on his cheek. "Now I'm asking you. Just trust me."