Infinite DC

Ten minutes until the New Year.

Benson put on the best front he could for the party. Everyone was there – Skips, Pops, Muscle Man, and High-Five Ghost. He was less than surprised to see Mordecai and Rigby; no way would those two ever miss a shindig like this.

Being park manager, he spared no expense.

The finest wings from Wing Kingdom, the most refreshing sodas, and Dion’s “The Wanderer” playing in the background – how could their last night of the year be anything but celebratory?

Audrey.

No matter how hard he tried, no matter how much the gang did their best to help him, there was just no getting over the breakup.

Skips was wrong. There may have been plenty other women out there on the planet, but none of them would be as perfect as Audrey.

He hit the wings and soda harder than everybody else, intoxicating him more than the others.

Two minutes from midnight, with one can of soda in hand, he stood atop the coffee table and slurred a speech for the group: “I…I’ve got…I’ve got s-somethin’ to say! And this…this is from…this is from the heart!”

“We love you, bro!” Muscle Man whooped.

“T-That’s…That is what I’m talkin’ about!” Benson madly shouted. “I l-love you guys, too. You…Y-You are…You’re my crew. You know that? Y-You guys are my crew, ya know that?”

More whoops from the crowd, the loudest coming out of Mordecai and Rigby.

“Yeah, I-I may threaten to f-fire you most days…these two guys know what I’m sayin’!” He pointed right to Mordecai and Rigby, drawing roistered laughter. “Buh…But, you know…d-deep down…” Tears filled his eyes, his voice cracked. “…I love you all!”

The eyes of his co-workers watered as well.

Genuinely touched from the heartfelt speech, they shared in a group hug.

“Good show, Benson,” said Pops. “Good show.”

The euphoria of televised cheers brought their attention to the living room set.

The Times Square ball began to drop.

“Here we go!” Benson bellowed. “Let’s do this!”

The crew counted along, “Ten…nine…eight…seven…six…five…four…three…two…ONE!”

BOOM!

The house shook violently.

The electricity kicked out, shutting down the TV.

“WHAT’S HAPPENING?!” Rigby cried.

What sounded to be a jet plane rapidly plunging to the earth prompted them all to rush outside. Sure enough, something did plummet; they caught sight of the smoky trail left in its wake, running straight down to a collection of towering trees, a mile from the house.

“Whoa,” Mordecai muttered his surprise.

“We’ve got to check for survivors.” Benson directed. “Pops, call 9-1-1.”

“Certainly, Benson.”

Benson, Mordecai, Rigby, Skips, Muscle Man, and High-Five hurried to the clearing beyond the trees.

When they reached the area, they were breathless.

Too many wings and sodas, Benson thought.

“Guys…look!”

Following Mordecai’s gaze, they gasped over the wide, fiery crater dug deep into the ground. Embedded within it was a smoky eleven-foot black rectangular solid.

“What the heck is that thing?” Rigby questioned.

“Looks like a giant VHS tape.” Skips observed.

“It must be what fell from the sky.” Mordecai presumed.

Their focus on the strange, unidentifiable object intensified with the sudden manifestation of doors on what they believed to be its front. A peek into the penetratingly lit interior showed some disproportion to the exterior. This was certain from the emergence of a young African American man decked in a brown bomber jacket, a cream-colored aviator scarf, beige pants, and brown boots.

To Skips, he looked like a Tuskegee airman; the yeti was old enough to recall fighting in World War II with such soldiers.

In the arms of the supposed airman, he carried a much younger auburn-haired Caucasian woman. She looked to be in her early twenties and, in the eyes of Benson, was strikingly beautiful, even in her unconscious state.

“She needs help,” the airman said of the girl in his arms.

Mordecai offered his bed as a good place for the girl; carefully, the airman placed her onto it.

Benson was unable to take his eyes off her the whole time. She looked like a princess, albeit in a tight grey t-shirt and beige pants, black high tops, and a plaid shirt tied around her waist.

“Doctor Henry says that he’ll be here shortly,” Pops alerted.

“Tell him not to come,” ordered the airman, who scanned his inert companion’s body with a small, peculiar device shaped like a screwdriver. “He wouldn’t be able to determine her biology.”

“What do you mean by that?” Benson asked, trying his best not to sound judgmental towards the man. “Who are you? And what happened to this girl?”

“We were attacked by one of the deadliest creatures known to this universe and the next,” the airman explained.

“What kind of creature, bro?” Muscle Man queried.

The stranger answered with a single word unknown to the park residents: “Dalek.”

Despite being unfamiliar with the term, Pops quivered. “It sounds dreadful.”

“More than you know,” the airman remarked, pocketing his screwdriver device into his jacket.

During the exchange, Skips momentarily departed from the room and returned with a stethoscope. He used the device on the girl before switching over to the airman. What he heard in the bodies of both beings confirmed a suspicion he had since their discovery of the alien ship.

“Time Lords,” he uttered. “Just as I thought.”

“Come again?” Rigby said.

“The dimensionally uneven spacecraft, the screwdriver-lookin’ tool, and two heartbeats,” the yeti recounted. “They’re Time Lords.”

The airman raised a curious eyebrow. “You know of our race?”

“Yeah, I know about ‘em.” Skips passively confirmed. “The Guardians once told me how they stole the idea for headgear. Their knowledge of the universe extends beyond our own, ya know.”

“Hold up. Can we rewind for a second?” Rigby proposed. “Could one of you guys explain to us what a ‘Time Lord’ is?”

“We’re ancient beings of marvelous intelligence and capable of living longer than any other race in existence,” the airman divulged.

Mordecai snickered. “Pretty high and mighty of yourselves, aren’t ya? I mean, even the name is a giveaway.”

The airman glared to the blue jay. “I am a survivor,” he snapped. “Shel and I represent the last sole Gallifreyan in existence, and her…his…my name is Neas.”

Benson frowned. “You said ‘sole,’ as in one, but we count two of you here.”

“We are both the same person – born through a process known as ‘regeneration,’” Neas clarified. “Shel is what I’ll one day regenerate into, and from the time I’ve spent with her, I have a lot to prepare myself for…though I’ll never remember any of it, once we’re back in our proper timelines.”

Benson felt slightly dismayed.

The beautiful auburn-haired girl he fawned over in the last minutes was in reality a manifestation born from a man. He was not quite certain what to make of this circumstance, and Muscle Man’s response to it did not help any…

“You used to be a chick?!”

Neas scoffed. “Shel is an incarnation of my future self. But, yes, I was originally born a woman.”

“Dude, that’s just creepy,” said Mordecai.

“Hey,” Neas retorted, “I don’t control the regenerations! At least, not consciously! It’s a lottery!”

“What I cannot understand is why you are dressed like a pilot?” Pops asked.

Proudly tugging at his bomber jacket, Neas replied, “I’m a fan of the Tuskegee Airmen. As a matter of fact, I’ve flown and fought alongside them. The way I figure, I might as well make the best from regenerating as a black man. I faced enough prejudice as a woman in the eras I’ve been to.”

“But why a dude?” Muscle Man pressed. “I mean, it’s so much more fun being a chick, bro.”

Awkward silence followed his statement. He noticed the odd stares in his general direction.

“Not that I would know! I’m just sayin’!”

Neas cleared his throat, returning their concentration on Shel.

“I’ll give her a moment to rest here, and then we’ll be on our way. In all honesty, she would be safer here with you guys. Dalek Vec has relentlessly chased us through the dimensions between time and space all my lives. Never expected to have bumped into myself in the process. Poor kid.”

Benson’s eyes centered on Shel once more.

Despite knowing what he now knew about her, she was still quite a vision.

“She’s gorgeous,” he spoke his private thoughts aloud subconsciously.

Everyone, including Neas, looked to him strangely.

“Dude, Benson, you know that technically you are turned on by a guy, right?” Rigby informed.

“I AM NOT TURNED ON BY A GUY, RIGBY!”

Awkward silence followed once again.

Neas could tolerate no more of the oddball characters he considered entrusting the life of his succeeding incarnation with.

“I’ve got to return to my T.A.R.D.I.S. to survey the damages.”

“I’ll go and help ya.” Skips volunteered.

Neas grinned. “If you know as much about Time Lords as you claim, you’re more than welcome to come.”

The immortal pair set off, leaving the others to care for the auburn-haired beauty resting on Mordecai’s bed.

Soon, however, they realized that she regained consciousness.

Her eyelids rose, exposing clear blue eyes beneath the fluorescent lighting. They darted all around, taking in the new surroundings and the blue jay, raccoon, gumball machine, green-skinned man, and ghost in front of her.

After a few seconds of realization, she exclaimed with immense anxiety, “Where’s my Mogwai?”