Martha snipped the thread of the suture and grabbed a sealed packet of gauze. She wrapped the stitches then looked up at the young man. His gray pageboy cap struck Martha as familiar even though she knew he was a refugee on Fespa. When the wound was dressed to her liking, she fixed him a warm look.
"Keep it dry, and try not to use that arm too much," she advised. "The wound should heal in a week and a half if you take proper care. You're lucky the shrapnel missed your radial artery."
The man nodded and ran his free hand through a mop of dark brown hair. "Will do, Doc. Think you'll be around for a follow up?"
Martha shook her head and smiled a little. "I don't think so. I travel a lot."
"Sounds like fun. Wish I could tag along."
"Well, the trips tend to be taxing, not good for arm in its current state. Now head back to the camp and get some rest."
With that, her patient pushed himself off the cot and walked out of the medical tent. Martha leaned back and watched as he chatted with the Doctor. Once the younger man left, the Doctor lifted a flap and ducked inside. He settled on the cot and attempted to brush some of the dirt off his suit.
"I think we've found all the survivors," he said. "It's just damage assessment at this point."
Martha nodded and packed away some nearby supplies. The Doctor watched as she made a more concentrated effort to clean up the treatment area, her head hanging as she worked.
"Anything I can do?" he asked.
"No, I'm good," she muttered. "I'll take what's left back to the base, and then we can go."
"Right. So what happened to the survivors you treated?"
"Most of the human refugees were outside of ground zero and had minor injuries. A couple who helped with the initial rescue had serious burns. I had to wrap them up in towels and convince a couple Judoon to help me get them in hospital bound transport."
The Doctor nodded. "What about your last patient? He looked a little young to be near the compound."
"He was visiting his brother and had just left when the bomb dropped. The two of them apparently fled Titania a few months ago."
"Why's that?"
"He didn't say."
The Doctor hummed and began gathering loose items in the tent. While working, he watched Martha. Though she stood straight, her dark eyes absorbed what little light was in the area. Slight puffiness began to form under her eyes, commendable for having worked for close to twenty hours.
"Why do you ask?" Martha piped up, interrupting the Doctor's assessment.
"Well, he looked a sight familiar."
"I thought the same thing. His accent also sounded like something I've heard recently."
At that, the Doctor cracked an unhappy smile. He grabbed a box of bandages and opened the tent for Martha. She walked out balancing three boxes that blocked her line of vision. Without a word, he set his on top of the stack before grabbing the top two. Martha nodded in thanks, and they walked to the base in silence. After handing the boxes to a solemn humanoid neither one had the energy to identify, they hiked back to the TARDIS. The Doctor sighed upon discovering his ship was intact and hurried to unlock the door. Martha walked in without so much as a glance. His eyebrows drifted up as he shut the door behind him.
"I don't want to go home just yet," he heard her utter.
The Doctor went to the controls and prepared for dematerialization. "Very well. Anyplace you want to go?"
Martha shook her head. "I just don't want to go back."
"I'll get us out of here and park on Crallica. No one's around there, anymore. You can get some rest, if you'd like."
He looked up just in time to see her flash an appreciative smile. With that, he began dematerialization and entered the coordinates for Crallica. The lingering confusion at the attack and exhaustion from a two day rescue effort prompted the Doctor to say little except for reminding Martha to hold on. After a minute of shaking, the TARDIS settled.
"Let me know if you need anything," the Doctor told her.
"I will," she replied before heading to her room.
The Doctor sighed and glanced around the control room. He figured that after working nearly a full day without a break would make Martha sleep at least ten Earth hours. Though he itched to see what was happening in other points in time, he knew better than to land anywhere. After standing by the console for several minutes, he decided to grab a cuppa and catch up on some reading.
He almost dropped his tea on one of his childhood story collections when he heard a scuffling by the door. The Doctor sprung to his feet and made sure to set the book far away from the liquid. When he answered the door, he found Martha fully awake and dressed in a new pair of jeans along with a light cardie. Giving her a small smile, he allowed her to step into the library.
"Sleep well?" he asked.
Martha nodded. "Much better than I do at home. No noisy neighbors, just a peaceful humming."
The Doctor beamed and patted the nearest wall. "That's my girl."
Martha smiled at the TARDIS's warmth and crept further into the room.
"So, Miss Jones, you're up early. Ready to go?"
"I actually wanted to ask you a favor," she replied.
"Oh? What kind?"
She pulled the cardie tighter. "I'd like to go back to New York. Not New New York, mind you."
The Doctor nodded. "I know exactly what you mean. Made some friends in 1930?"
"Well…that's not entirely the reason."
He cocked his head at her evasiveness but grabbed his coat from where he flung it over one of the library couches. Without a word, Martha turned and headed for the console. The Doctor pursed his lips before following. By the time he reached the console, he found her leaning against the handrails, lost in thought. He stepped over and began entering the coordinates for their landing. A low buzz from the ship made him groan before punching in a different combination of numbers.
"Closest I can get us is the middle of November that year," he mumbled. "You might want to grab a heavier jacket."
"Right."
Martha ran to the wardrobe after the TARDIS's whine faded. The Doctor watched her until she disappeared into the ship's corridors, stroking the console in an autonomic manner. He was about to sit on the railing when Martha returned wearing a Sherpa lined jacket. Quirking an eyebrow at the gleam in her eye, he went over to the door. After peeking out, he discovered they landed on Ellis Island again. The Doctor threw the door open the rest of the way and glanced back at Martha. She flashed him a beatific smile as she joined him outside. The midday sun helped counter some of the nippy autumn air that settled on the city with a gentle weight.
They headed to Central Park while taking in the subdued bustle of the city. A couple street vendors on Fifth Avenue peddled overripe apples to the men and women who hurried to the jobs they managed to hold onto during the Depression. Martha overheard two elderly women discussing when the next trolley would come but kept walking when she realized she didn't have any form of change in her pockets. Some people gave the Doctor and Martha curious glances, but they ignored them as they focused on getting to the park. Her speed picked up as they approached the park's eastern entrance.
"You sure are in a hurry," the Doctor called out. "What's the rush?"
"I told Frank I was a hitcher," Martha replied, "but I didn't tell him the whole story."
The Doctor hummed as he mulled over this statement. "Martha, you know-"
"That I was never just a passenger. I understand that, especially after what we just through on Fespa. Frank seemed to think otherwise."
At that, the Doctor stopped and almost tripped over a branch. "Wait a minute. What did you tell him?"
Martha glanced over her shoulder. "I told him that once we dealt with the Daleks I'd tell him how I got here."
"Martha, you do realize how bad an idea it is to tell people about our travels, right? I mean, just look at how your mum reacted just when she met me."
"I owe it to him. He encountered the Daleks and survived. I think he can handle this."
"And that's an achievement in itself, but why, Martha? And when did you promise him this?"
"Before our return to Hooverville that night."
The streetlights flickered, providing intermittent flashes of yellow light along the sidewalks. The Doctor strode toward Hooverville after determining that they didn't wind up too far from Central Park. Martha and Frank lingered a little bit behind him. A breeze kicked up, eliciting a shiver from Martha. She drew her jacket closer, and Frank just caught the flicker of movement. Without a word, he wrapped an arm around Martha's shoulders and rubbed a hand against her arm.
"Thanks," she whispered.
"My pleasure," he mumbled.
"So…."
"Yeah?"
They shared a low chuckle and kept walking. It was a while before Frank spoke up again.
"You know how you said that the Daleks couldn't experiment on people? That it was insane?" he asked.
Martha nodded. "No one of any species would allow that."
Frank sighed and held her closer. "Well, someone was doing that when I was still in Tennessee. I remember the neighbors had a daughter who was called mentally retarded. I'm not sure why, although they weren't the most well educated people in town and did some strange things. Anyway, some men claiming they were doctors came to pick her up one day…."
"And?" Martha urged.
"Well," Frank whispered, "they did something to her. I think they sterilized her because she was retarded. She came back and was constantly screaming, wouldn't let anyone near her. The one time I saw her out of the house she wrapped her arms around her stomach and was crouching. I can't even describe it."
At that, Frank shuddered, prompting Martha to rub his back. He gave her a thin smile.
"I know, Frank. I know."
"Does anyone do that where you're from?"
Martha shook her head. "If any medical work is done on humans, those participating agree to it and aren't dragged off by pig slaves in the night."
A stronger breeze prompted them to huddle closer together. Frank used his whole arm to generate enough friction to keep Martha warm.
"Where did you get this coat?" he asked. "It's even thinner than mine, and I'm just warm enough."
Martha opened her mouth to reply when she saw the Hooverville sign close by. She shrugged out of Frank's grasp as they approached the camp.
"Observant young man," the Doctor mused. "No wonder he was taken to the lab."
"In the end I did stick with him, and I was alright," Martha added. "I owe him for that."
At that, the Doctor peered at Martha. "Do you think he sees it that way?"
"What do you mean by that?"
"Well, we've travelled a distance so you two can share life stories, and we have lots of times and places left to visit and explore. And what if he's already forgotten and moved on with trying to survive his everyday life?"
"What if I just want to see him and make sure he's alright?" Martha asked.
The Doctor shrugged. "Well, we're almost there. Let's go."
They continued the walk to Hooverville in silence, the only sound being grass and leaves crunching underfoot. A few people smiled and waved at the duo once they arrived in Hooverville. Martha stopped walking long enough to ask where Frank was before venturing further into the maze of tents. The Doctor stayed back, opting to observe the community as a whole. Life in Hooverville seemed to be back to normal but was a little quieter than their last week. He surmised many were waiting in the lines they passed, and he remembered some of the once residents being killed when the Daleks descended on the settlement. He spotted Lazlo talking with an older gentleman, traces of a grin forming around his tusks. Stepping closer, the Doctor discovered they were discussing Tallulah's show.
"And how is Tallulah, anyway?" the Doctor asked.
Lazlo started but turned to face the Doctor. "She's well, has a show tonight. The theater just reopened a couple days ago."
"That's good to hear."
"I had one heck of a time explaining everything to the police, and Tallulah got yelled at by the theater manager for the damage."
The Doctor waved his hand. "I can take care of that."
"You don't have to. Like I said, she has a show tonight. They can't get rid of her that easily."
The other gentleman smiled in agreement.
"Right, then," the Doctor replied. "How about you, Lazlo? How's life been treatin' ya?"
Lazlo sighed. "Tough. I can't work at the theater anymore, something about scaring the other girls. I've been trying to find something where I'm not dealing with many other people. For obvious reasons."
"Too bad you aren't married," Lazlo's companion chipped in. "Then you could let Tallulah do all the work."
"No," Lazlo replied with a shake of his head, "that's not fair to her."
"Commendable mindset, Lazlo, but it may not be practical," the Doctor told him. "There really isn't any way to reverse the damage the Daleks did. You may not be able to find anything in town."
"Frank said I'd be worse off if I left right before he started rambling about hogtying."
The Doctor tapped his chin. "Lad's got a point. What's Frank been up to, anyway?"
At that, the older gentleman spoke up. "He helped repair the damage at the theater and earned enough money to buy us all bread and sausage. He might even get a job as a stagehand."
"Ah. Who's in charge, then?"
"Howard. He's currently in one of the soup lines."
"From what Frank says Howard was Solomon's right hand man for a while," Lazlo said. "He let Frank take his place when his wife became sick. Now that she's gone, keeping an eye on things here keeps his mind off unhappier things."
"I see."
"So what brings you back, Doctor?"
"Martha asked, said something about telling Frank how she got here in the first place."
"That oughtta make Frank's day."
"Really? What makes you say that?"
Lazlo's gaze shifted to a nearby tent. "Apparently he has dreams about what happened with the Daleks. He sometimes calls out for Martha in his sleep."
Martha glanced around the tent as she listened to Frank tell her everything that happened since she left. The space was smaller than she remembered Solomon's tent being but possessed the same sort of livability. A vivid red apple sat on a ledge, and a knife was nearby. Martha frowned at the shot gun resting against one of the tent poles. Trying to suppress the memory of Frank shooting at a Dalek, she refocused on him in the present.
"Sounds like you've been busy," she murmured when she realized he was done talking.
"Oh, I have," he said as he scooted closer to Martha on the log that served as a bench. "But I reckon you didn't come back just to hear me talk about my life."
"Well, I remembered that I didn't tell you something, and I promised I would."
"And what's that?'
Martha rested a hand on Frank's knee. "How I got here."
Frank grinned. "Let me guess. The Doctor is involved."
"He's the one that found me, during my time, which is about 80 years from now. O was about to start my residency, and he disguised himself as a patient in order to track down this…alien, who also was disguised as a patient."
Frank adjusted his newly acquired pageboy cap and quirked an eyebrow. "So there are other aliens besides those creepy Dalek things?"
"You wouldn't believe how many there are."
"Is the Doctor one?"
"Yup. Figured out that one pretty quickly."
"Well, just 'cause I'm from Tennessee doesn't mean I'm stupid or anything."
"Of course not," Martha replied. "I think we both know that was confirmed after we met a couple weeks ago."
"Heh. It got me in trouble when I was back home. I read more than I worked, occasionally mouthed off at the teachers if something they said didn't seem right, stuff like that. It drove my parents crazy."
"It seems unfair that they would look down on your desire to learn."
At that, Frank rested his hand on Martha's and squeezed. "It's not, but that's not what we were discussing."
"I know. Anyway, the Doctor found me at the hospital, right before the whole building was transported to the moon."
The Doctor watched Lazlo add more wood to the main fire pit. He noticed the sun creeping closer to the western horizon line and wondered just how much detail Martha was revealing in her story.
"Say, Lazlo," he piped up, "do you know where Frank might be right now? I haven't seen him since I arrived."
"He should be here," Lazlo said while pointing toward the northwest. "Go down that path, second on the right. That's where his tent is."
"Thanks."
The Doctor stood and stretched before making his way to Frank's tent. He stood in front of the flaps for a minute before pushing the fabric aside. Peeking in, he found Martha hugging Frank, the younger man's face pressed into her shoulder. The Doctor cleared his throat, and Martha looked up, nodding her consent for him to join them. Finding no other benches, he settled on the dirt floor near the other two. He watched Martha stroke Frank's hair for a while before breaking the silence.
"What happened?" he asked.
"Long story. I'll tell you later," Martha answered. "Frank is completely exhausted, though. I think…."
"Think what, Martha? If there's something physically wrong, tell me."
Martha sighed and adjusted her hold. "I think we should get Frank out of Hooverville so he can rest."
"Bring him on the TARDIS?"
Martha nodded.
"I don't want to pull him from his time, especially if he's helping run the community. He's needed here."
"Doctor."
"It's okay," Frank croaked.
The Doctor started at the hoarseness of Frank's voice. "Actually, we can bring him on board. When you're ready. I'll go find Howard."
Martha and Frank nodded at the Doctor before pulling far enough apart for Frank to wipe his eyes. The Doctor watched their display before stepping out of the tent. He found himself face to face with a somewhat shorter gentleman with glasses once outside.
"Good to see you again," the gentleman said while nodding his head. "You might not remember me, but I was with Frank and Martha when those creatures of damnation brought us to the lab. If you hadn't been there, I don't want to think of what could have happened."
"Daleks," the Doctor muttered. "The creatures-they're called Daleks."
"Ah. I'm Howard, by the way."
"Pleasure."
They shook hands and headed back to the center of the settlement. They stood near the fire, and they had a clear view of the settlement.
"So what brings you back to Hooverville?" Howard asked. "Not those Daleks, I hope."
"No, thankfully," the Doctor replied. "Just some unfinished business."
"Is that what Lazlo mentioned about Frank?"
"Yes, and I actually wanted to talk to you about him."
Howard rubbed his gloved hands together. "What do you mean?"
"Martha and I noticed that Frank is not doing well."
"Is he sick?"
"Not yet, but he will be if he doesn't get enough rest. Have you noticed him overexerting himself or not sleeping?"
Howard pursed his lips. "He sometimes didn't come back here while working at the theater. I'm not sure if he slept there or what he did. He's seemed fatigued ever since we were attacked."
The Doctor nodded. "Well, we have a place we can take so he can sleep. I know people come and go from here, but it seems Frank's absence would be noticed."
"It would. He's been instrumental in making sure we all get by. If you're able to help him, I'll handle the questions."
"Good. We'll bring him back when he's ready."
The Doctor returned to Frank's tent after staying by the fire pit for a few minutes. He found Frank and Martha waiting outside, both looking a little less solemn. He grinned at them before leading the way out of Central Park. No one said anything until they arrived at Ellis Island.
"Is your ship here?" Frank asked.
The Doctor looked back and nodded. "The TARDIS. Time and relative dimension in space. Good ol' girl."
Martha cracked a weak smile as they approached the wall concealing the TARDIS from view. When they arrived, Frank stopped and looked at Martha.
"Are you serious?" he asked. "We're not all gonna fit in that thing!"
The Doctor fished his key out of his coat pocket and opened the door. "Sure we will. Martha?"
Martha guided Frank to the ship and coaxed him inside. His eyes bugged out when he entered the console room.
"What? You've gotta be kidding!"
He ducked his head out the still open door, eliciting a chuckle from the Doctor.
"See? We'll all fit and lots of room! In you go."
The Doctor started to close the door, and Frank took that as his cue to get back into the control room. Martha stood on one side of the console, watching Frank wander around.
"This is…I don't even know what this is!" Frank exclaimed. "Hey, wait. What's that buzzing in my head?"
"That's just my girl saying hello," the Doctor chirped.
"She…who?"
"The ship," Martha told him. "She did that with me. It's okay. She won't hurt you."
"Right. Am I dreaming right now?"
Martha walked over and pinched Frank's arm.
"Ow!"
"You're not dreaming," the Doctor said. "This is all real. Go on. Walk around a bit."
"There's more?"
"Lots. We have time, so you explore as much as you like."
"If you say so."
With that, Frank shook his head and stepped further into the corridors of the TARDIS. Once he determined Frank was out of earshot, the Doctor sidled over to Martha.
"I didn't give him too many details on the ship when we were in Hooverville," Martha informed him.
"It's more fun to show them, anyway. You should know that. I actually wanted your opinion about letting Frank sleep."
"Would we have to land on another planet?"
"I can find a deserted one. Would be safer than trying to stay in the vortex. Either way, he should be here for takeoff. Might amuse him."
"Provided he doesn't fall asleep standing up. Can we stay a while, wherever we end up?"
"Sure, just as long as we don't get any unexpected company."
Martha snorted. "Yeah, right. You better hope that doesn't happen. Frank needs at least ten hours of sleep. He might wake up and want to go back to bed."
"Think nightmares will be a problem?"
"Possibly."
"We should put him in the sleep room," the Doctor suggested.
"Are you sure? I don't know if he'll agree to being in that deep of sleep."
"Martha, I think he'd be grateful for any kind of sleep at this point."
Martha frowned and crossed her arms over her chest. The Doctor looked on as she set off to get Frank. He waited before they returned before stepping over to the console. As the ship warmed up, he punched in some coordinates with an intensity that almost shattered the controls. Frank stifled a yawn just as the Doctor finished his work.
"Alright, everyone," the Doctor huffed. "Hold on."
"What?" Frank asked.
The TARDIS lurched, throwing Frank off balance. Martha caught his wrist and pulled him close enough so he could grab the handrail. Once upright, Frank glanced at Martha with wild, almost panicked eyes.
"Somebody should have warned me!" he yelped.
The Doctor looked up from the controls. "I did."
Martha shook her head at their exchange and grinned. After a while, the TARDIS stopped moving, and the Doctor announced that they had reached their destination. Before Martha could ask where that was, the Doctor put a finger to his lips. She understood and persuaded Frank to let go of the handrail. They walked back into the ship's corridors, Frank sticking close to Martha. The Doctor followed them to the sleep room. He pressed his lips in a tight grimace as Frank almost leaned on Martha.
"Well, here we are," she announced while opening the door. "In you go."
Frank mumbled his thanks and stepped into the room. He squinted at the dark gray slab but wasted no time in getting settled.
"Wow! This is comfier than it looks," he said while moving into a supine position. "Don't suppose I have to get up anytime soon."
"Not at all," Martha assured him.
The Doctor took that as his cue to prepare the dampener. Frank looked over when he heard the commotion stemming from the Doctor's work.
"Now what in tarnation is that thing?" he asked.
"It'll help you sleep," the Doctor responded as he pulled the headpiece closer to the bed.
Frank scooted away. "Uh-uh. I'm not wearing that thing. Am I, Martha?"
Martha glared at the Doctor then shook her head. "Not if you don't want to."
"Good."
Frank reverted to his original position and closed his eyes. Martha looked around and found a chair against the wall. She pulled it closer to the bed before making herself comfortable.
"Think I'll stay and keep an eye on him," she muttered.
The Doctor nodded. "Let me know if you need anything."
"I will."
Taking one last look at Frank (who was now fast asleep), the Doctor left the room. He busied himself with some cleaning and overdue ship maintenance. He spent nearly two hours alone cleaning the disarray Martha left in the wardrobe while looking for a warmer coat. Just as he was walking out of the wardrobe, a startled cry ripped through the TARDIS' halls. Turning on his heel, the Doctor sprinted to the sleep room. When he arrived, he found Martha on the bed holding a quivering Frank.
"What happened?" he asked.
Martha glanced at the Doctor. "Frank had a nightmare about the Daleks."
"I'm not going back to sleep!" Frank panicked. "I don't want to see those things kill Martha!"
The Doctor watched Martha rub a soothing hand along Frank's back. He watched her as she reassured Frank that she wasn't going anywhere.
"I'm afraid I'm with Martha on this one," the Doctor told Frank. "You will go to sleep, and you will have the dampener. It'll keep you from dreaming about the Daleks."
"Are you sure?"
"Positive."
The Doctor grabbed the headpiece, and Martha eased Frank into lying back down. She kept telling him she would be nearby, and some of the tension drained from his face as she talked to him. The Doctor fit the headpiece around Frank's head, and his eyes started to droop in seconds. Martha kissed his temple, which brought a smile to Frank's face as he drifted off to sleep. Without a word, the Doctor left the two of them alone in the sleep room.