Black and Blue and Bloodied

by Sixes_And_Sevens

Bloodstone

Blueblood sailed through the door to the fortieth floor. The Doctor slammed it shut as he passed over the threshold, whipping out the sonic and waving it at the door. “That’ll hold it for a little while,” he said gruffly.

“Can’t you just shatter it?” Blueblood asked through gasps of breath. “Like the other one?”

The Doctor shook his head. “There’s a chance that the host might still be alive in there. Killing is our last resort.”

The prince sighed and plopped down against the wall. With a single tug, he undid his bow tie, too tired and sweaty to care how he looked anymore. “We’re on the top floor of this building,” he said neutrally. “The beast is in the stairwell, and I’m certain that even as we speak it is going to use the elevator on a lower floor. We could dismantle that too, I suppose, but it wouldn’t change our situation. We’re stuck in an office building with two dead bodies and a killer, and I very much doubt that for all my charms and wiles that I can get us out of being arrested again.”

The Doctor nodded. “That about sums it up, yeah.”

Blueblood stared at him. “How can you be so calm about this? We are doomed. Either by that creature or by the justice system. There is no way to escape.”

“Eh. I’ve been in worse.”

The prince scoffed. “Like what?”

“Well, there was the time Luna and I were trapped in a labyrinth while Celestia was about to be forcibly married to a genocidal warlord.”

Blueblood fell silent. “...Really?” he asked after a few moments.

“Oh yeah.”

Blueblood chuckled slightly. “If I survive this, she’s never living that one down. How did you save her?”

“Story for another day. Got t’ focus on th’ problem at ‘oof.”

Blueblood glanced around. “Well, there must be some way out. A fire escape, perhaps?” He glanced around, but saw no conveniently marked doors.

“Or,” said the Doctor, inspecting a wall panel closely. “A secret passage?” He pushed on the paneling. Absolutely nothing happened. He frowned. “Maybe not.”

Blueblood’s brow furrowed as he began to think. “Perhaps we’re looking at this from the wrong angle,” he said slowly.

“What d’you mean?”

Blueblood gazed thoughtfully at the door to the late Henn’s office. “I believe,” he said slowly, “I have got the beginnings of a plan.”

***

The elevator opened slowly, heralded by a faint chime. The gargoyle leapt out, snarling and glancing up and down the hallway. No sign of life. The beast paced the corridor, glaring around. There was nowhere they could hide from it. But where would they be? Suddenly, the beast’s eyes caught on something amiss at the end of the hall. The door to Henn's office was ajar. The gargoyle bared its teeth in a hideous approximation of a smile and crept toward the door. Silently, it lay a stone talon against the wood and shoved it back open. The beast roared, leaping forward and striking and the first thing he saw. This turned out to be a lamp. It stared at its claw for a moment, befuddled. It was a moment too long, for as it glanced up, it was only just in time to see a file cabinet toppling down from where it had been carefully set atop the door. There was a percussive crash, and paper proved once and for all that it could definitely beat rock.

***

Blueblood let out a breath he didn’t realize he had been holding as the sound of pained roars mixed with crunching rock echoed down the hall. The Doctor opened the door to the stairwell slightly and peeked out. A pair of taloned, stony feet kicked uselessly, only serving to scratch the wooden door as it bounced off the monster, attempting to close. “Ha! Got ‘im,” he said with a grin.

Blueblood sighed in relief. “So we can go now?”

“Go?” the Doctor asked, turning to face his companion, a faint frown on his face. “Why would we go now? We’ve only jus’ caught th’ killer.”

“Exactly. So we can leave now. Preferably before he, I don’t know, escapes?” the prince asked, glancing at the gargoyle skittishly.

The Doctor considered that offer with the air of a wealthy patron of the arts examining a new work, turning it over and around in his mind. At length, he reached a decision, the thought and consideration evaporating from his brow. “Nah,” he said. “I’ve got a few questions for the bloke. ‘Course, if you want t’ head on down the stairs, into the dark and unknown dangers that might await, I won’t stop ya.”

Blueblood twitched slightly. “I’ll help you interrogate him.”

“Ta much. You can be good cop, I’ll be bad cop.”

“What?”

“Never mind. Jus’ try not t’ get in the way.”

***

The gargoyle roared and gnashed its terrible teeth as it struggled to free itself from beneath the filing cabinet. Blueblood cringed away from the thrashing claws, but the Doctor didn’t even flinch. With only a slight grunt, he leapt atop the metal box and jumped down to the other side. The prince merely stared, jaw hanging agape. “Come on then, if you’re coming,” the Doctor called.

Hesitantly, Blueblood sidled into the room, pressing himself as far away from the flailing claws as he could. The Doctor waited patiently by the beast’s snarling face, smiling peacefully, if not a little cheekily. “Now that we’re all here, I rather think introductions are in order, don’t you?” He nodded at Blueblood, who merely stared blankly. The Doctor’s eyes hardened slightly and he gestured impatiently.

The prince drew himself up to his full height as years of practice kicked in. He had been polite and diplomatic to far worse than this creature. Emperor Sven of the caribou sprang to mind. “How do you do?” he asked, his voice turning a few shades closer to plum. “I am Blueblood. Prince Polaris Blueblood.” His eyes narrowed and he stared down the bridge of his nose at the beast. When he spoke again his voice was lower and far darker in tone. “And you?”

Stony gaze met stone. “Your downfall,” the creature rasped. “Yours and all those like you, Polaris Blueblood. Free me, and your death will be swift.”

Blueblood shuddered, and the creature smirked maliciously. The Doctor met it, grin for grin. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Downfall. I’m the Doctor. But if you prefer, I also go by ‘Oncoming Storm’, ‘Predator’, or if you’re not feeling particularly creative, ‘Death’. So, tell me a little about yourself, why don’t you?”

The creature turned its eyes on the Doctor, and the Time Lord stared back, his blue eyes burning vivid and bright. The gargoyle looked away first. “I once was called Pick Axe.”

“Miner?” the Doctor guessed. “You were part of the Echo Quarry outfit, right?”

“The one that collapsed?” Blueblood asked.

“Yes,” the gargoyle ground out, tired irony etched deep in every syllable. “The one that collapsed.”

The Doctor nodded. “You want revenge, then. Revenge on the wealthy.”

Blueblood frowned. “What makes you think that?”

The others ignored him. The gargoyle had locked gazes with the Doctor once more. “Fourteen dead. Seventy-five others seriously injured. Do you think any of the survivors saw any insurance money? Any money at all?”

The green pony’s eyes softened. “I see where you’re coming from. Really, I do. But revenge isn’t the answer.”

“Why do you help them?” the gargoyle asked, levering himself up slightly. “You are not wealthy. Earth ponies are rarely well-considered in Canterlot.”

“You have unusually good diction for a miner,” Blueblood said thoughtfully.

The Doctor paused and shot a glare at his companion. “Oh, I’m terribly sorry,” the unicorn said flatly. “Were you two having a moment?”

The Time Lord sighed. “Something like tha’. S’not a bad point, though, you're speakin' pretty U-standard,” he added, regarding the gargoyle consideringly. “So, what ‘appened?”

“I died,” the creature replied shortly.

There was a long moment of silence. “You… died?” Blueblood squeaked.

“Is there an echo?” the creature growled. “Yes, I died. And then… they came. They came to us all, offering us our revenge.”

The Doctor leaned forward. “Who?” he asked urgently. “Who came?”

“The earth itself,” the gargoyle whispered, a hideous smile traced over its features. “The rock that destroyed us made us whole once more, Doctor. And if that rock must destroy me again, then so be it, so long as I take you with me!”

The gargoyle closed its eyes, and the stone stilled. The coating began to crumble away, slowly at first and then in what might be considered almost an avalanche, revealing the dead body of a unicorn buried beneath a pile of rocks and a filing cabinet.

There was a long, tense moment. “Is it— is it dead?” he asked, tentative.

The Doctor shook his head. “He’s been dead a long time,” he said quietly. “And there’s nothing that can fix that, no matter what he thought.”

“But what did it mean?” Blueblood pressed. “About rock destroying it again?”

The Doctor fell silent, staring at the wall. As he watched, a crack started to run up the side, sending a cascade of dust and pebbles down. “Blue,” he said slowly. “Th’ doors. They were made of crystal.”

The prince frowned. “Yes.”

“An’ the stairs weren’t concrete, were they? They were stone. Every part of this building was mined. Natural rock.”

“Are you going somewhere with this?” the unicorn asked impatiently.

The building rumbled ominously. The Doctor turned to the suddenly very pale unicorn. “Yeah. Down.”