Escape {Larry Stylinson/Doctor Who} NEW AU

“So, Harry Styles,” the Doctor twirls pointlessly and leads me through twists and turns of endless hallways within the TARDIS, “Down this way is the pool and that way is the library.”

I don’t know why he’s telling me all of this; I lost track of the rooms about an hour ago. At first, I couldn’t tell if he was being sarcastic when he told me that the guest wing was to the right. I mean, I accepted that it was bigger on the inside, but I hadn’t gathered exactly how much bigger. It’s unfathomable really.

I still can’t tell when he’s being serious or not. He’s flamboyant in his behavior and everything he does is for dramatic effect. I’m not accustomed to getting used to new people; my circle of peers has been completely constant for as long as I can remember, and I don’t have friends. It’s all so new to me. I feel embarrassed to even speak, but this seems to baffle the Doctor. He keeps telling me to speak up and “own my words”, whatever that means. Either way, it’s nice to have someone who supports my personality and everything that comes along with it.

The Doctor leads me back to the console room. It doesn’t even make sense how the hallways work; it seems like they move when we do. Either way, we find ourselves back at the console, and the Doctor leads me down a small set of stairs to a rugged couch. He sits down clumsily and crosses his legs, motioning for me to sit as well. I awkwardly settle in on the opposite side, my hands folded anxiously in my lap.

“So,” the Doctor adjusts his bow-tie and smiles, “Have you decided where we’re going first?”

I shrug casually. I really haven’t had time to think about where I want to go; It’s all been so overwhelming and I have no clue where we should begin.

“I don’t know. Do you have any favorites? Anywhere you haven’t been yet?”

The Doctor chuckles mindlessly, “Well, the Universe is vast and when you add time into the factor, there’s no way I could see it all. However, I have seen plenty. Are you thinking past or future?”

The first thing I think of when it comes to time travel, is seeing all of the things I’ve read about in history books. Most places are simply too typical, though, so I try to dig deeper and finally admit, “I really have no clue.”

The Doctor hums in thought, grazing his defined chin with his fingers, “Well, tell me a bit more about yourself. I suppose I don’t know much quite yet.”

I shrug again, because no one ever asks me about that. I’ve never had to explain myself to someone; my likes, dislikes, hobbies, preferences.

There’s one preference I’d prefer not to share just yet. I want the Doctor to actually get to know me before he can only think of me as gay. Who knows how his planet views that.

“I like music a lot. It’s my passion, I suppose and I love to sing. I’m a huge fan of classic artists; like from the sixties, seventies, and eighties. Music’s always been my escape-“ I pause and glance up; the Doctor is smiling and listening intently, “At least it was before you came around.”

We both chuckle and he gives me a pressing look that begs me to continue; so, I do, “I’ve got a sister in America who I haven’t seen in years. Don’t know where my dad is. He’s been gone since I was little; always had a drinking problem. Guess it was contagious, because my mum-“ I don’t know if I should continue. Maybe he doesn’t actually care about all my problems. I don’t want to sound like I’m whining and complaining. The Doctor motions his hand for me to continue, though, and I decide that it wouldn’t hurt, “My mum’s in jail right now. For driving drunk. She does it all the time; I suppose it’s high time she got caught. It’s sad, but I’m sort of relieved she’s out of the picture, even just for the time being. She’s really mean when she’s drunk, which is all the time.”

“Harry-“ I raise a hand, bidding him to stop.

“It’s alright, Doctor. I don’t need sympathy. I’ve learned to take care of myself.”

The Doctor scoots closer to me, draping his arm around my shoulders, “That isn’t the point. Sympathy isn’t a bad thing. It just means that someone cares.”

I simply shrug, unsure of how that helps me. Maybe I’m not aware of the good caring can do, but I’ve never been a recipient.

“Then, thank you, I suppose,” I glance up and the Doctor has a sad smile on his face.

“No need to think me, darling. Now,” and he bolts up, back to the same energetic man that has been bouncing around since I joined him, “We need to think of a time and place. You need to have some fun. How’s about the roaring twenties?”

He pretends to dance like a flapper girl, and I stifle a laugh of embarrassment.

“Or perhaps,” he paces the floor, finger over his lips thoughtfully, “the fifties! The 3050’s, of course. Splendid time to be alive. Particularly on the planet Siron, actually. Wonderful place. Come on, now. Give me some feedback!”

I chuckle and stand up, opting for leaning against the wall behind me, “Well, I guess we could start off with something in the future. I feel like that would be comforting.”

The Doctor nods before turning on his heels to face me, “Comforting, how?”

“To see the world as a better place,” I mutter, my eyes cast to the floor.

“Well,” the Doctor drags on, his hands behind his back, “It’s not as simple as that. Planet Earth has its up’s and down’s. What changes would you like to see?”

I shrug, because I feel like he knows I’m hiding something. I’m not sure why I am, though. This man (alien) dragged me out of my house to come with him. I kind of have the upper hand, it would seem. I’m still terrified that he’ll hate me.

“People treating each other with dignity and respect,” I mumble distantly. He has to catch on at some point.

“Well, that’s a broad statement. There’s no part of Earth’s long history where that just happens, Harry. If you’re specific, maybe I can-“

“Never mind,” I cut him off, irritated with myself for hinting at the idea more than anything, “Let’s just go to the sixties. The 1960’s, to be exact.”

The Doctor squints and adjusts his bowtie, “That would be the opposite of what you said you’d like to see. The 1960’s were a splendid time in the sense that people were changing the world, but it definitely wasn’t changed at that point.”

“I want to go there,” I repeat myself, firm in my random resolve. I’m not sure why I choose the sixties. I suppose I’d like to hang out with some hippies and go to Woodstock. I’m not sure why, but the sixties sound like a good idea.

“Alright, the sixties it is. Now, where would you like to go?” he takes the stairs up to the console and starts pressing buttons. Suddenly, I feel nervous. For some reason, I’ve felt like this discussion was only preparation for a future trip. But, no, the Doctor is rearing to go.

“I- um, I don’t know!” I frantically follow him, my legs feeling like jell-o, “Surprise me.”

“Alright,” the Doctor smirks, flipping a switch and pulling a lever, “New York City, 1969. Geronimo!”

.........

When the TARDIS stops shaking, the Doctor looks up and grins brightly, “We’re here. Open the door. Take a look.”

I nod slowly, gulping as I turn to face the door. I tell myself it’ll be okay. I’ll open the door, and somehow get used to the idea of being in a different place, in a different time.

“Don’t be afraid,” the Doctor whispers, now standing right behind me, “Be brilliant.”

I push the doors open and step out, finding myself in a back alley. I can hear music, though, and it smells different. Not that I’ve been to New York City, but maybe that’s the point.

As I turn the corner onto the main road, it’s strange to look at the city in such a time. The colors are vibrant and the scene is crisp, unlike any footage or pictures of it. That makes sense, but it’s still unreal.

“Is this-“ I can’t continue, but I feel the Doctor’s hand on the small of my back.

“Yes, Harry,” his voice is quiet for once, “It’s real. We’re at the heart of a revolution.”

Notes

sorry, I know it's short and shitty, but I wanted to update you guys with SOMETHING. I'm working on the next chapter soon. I'd really appreciate comments and feedback so I can sculpt this story :* rates would be nice too xx