A.N. I don't own Dr. who how I wish I did. Other than that this story is mine the idea came from my head. Om for those of you who have already read this I'm reposting chapters 1 through five I've updated them. So it should generally be the same. Also anyone know how I get tabs inserted into this, cause I enter them when I type this up and try a second time when I past this over to the site but they never show.
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A hot shower and a change of clothing had made me feel more human but I was too wired to fall asleep, instead I headed to the library wearing something meant for lounging and not my night gown. Apparently I was more tired than I thought for I had quickly fallen asleep. The scream woke me. It resounded down the hall and seemed to fill the ship with pain. I was up and heading down the hall before my mind even fully registers the noise. At the hallway intersection I nearly miss slamming into Jack coming from his room as he runs full tilt to where the noise is coming from. I am surprised to see that Jack actually made it to bed and seemed to be startled, much like I am. I can't help but steal glances at his bare chiseled chest, muscular arms and well-defined back as he takes the lead and continues rushing down the hall.
I notice the wall seems darker than normal, like all of the colors were muted. I also hear an odd keening sound, a mix between a moan and a whimper. Hearing it I have flashbacks working at the pediatric ward. Children made such a similar sound when they were trying to be brave not show that it hurt. What confuses me was that there was a machine like quality to the sound almost as if it was coming from the ship itself. This ship was acting as if it was wounded, as if it was in pain. But it is just a ship, how can it feel pain? I will say that it is a rather odd machine but it is a machine all the same. How can it act like it is alive? We're at the door before I can finish that line of thought. It's one that continuously crops up in the back of my mind. That odd question that always seems to taboo to talk about.
I can't help but notice the door is covered in some kind of goo. But Jack is blocking the doorway before I can even comment on it or attempt to touch it. He pays no attention to the odd fluid on the door, his entire focus is centered on the fact that it's closed. With five or six steps back Jack runs at the door slamming his shoulder into it and it flings open. Jack rushes to the bed where the doctor is tossing and turning in the throes of some awful dream it seems. A detached part of me examines the door and I can't help but notice the goo feels like oil but looks like blood.
Jack's shouts for the Doc to wake up drag my attention back to the bed and its occupant. I begin to feel a stirring fear, the type I haven't felt since I was child. Since becoming a companion I had to face things that make the monster under the bed seem like the childhood demon I thought it was. You learn very quickly to hide your fears for you never know just who or what is going to use them against you. As a doctor, I had to face truly frightening things along with blood and gore. I thought I had mastered my fear a long time ago but I cannot explain then why I am standing frozen in the door way desperately trying not to make a sound. In the space of one heartbeat the next I go from grown adult to feeling like a six-year-old child again trying desperately to convince my parents that the monster is real. For some reason I am terrified that the monster on the bed (instead of under it) will notice me. I know that he is not, but right now, all of my instincts say that I am staring at the deadliest predator. The type that will have no trouble killing me before I can even try to run away.
The Doc sits straight up with a shriek and his fist slams into the side of Jack's jaw like a freight train. The blow is so sudden and jarring it throws Jack to the opposite wall and Jack's body crumples to the floor. The physician in me notes that the blow probably fractured Jack's jaw and loosened a few teeth. All the while the Doctor is breathing heavily, almost panting, like he had been running for his life. His eyes are wild and unfocused; he seems still caught in the grips of his nightmare. It was then I realized for the first time I am seeing the real him. It only takes him a minute to pull all of the masks in back in place, but in the time it does I see his true self. What I saw terrified me.
I knew almost from the very beginning that the Doc was someone who wore many masks to hide the true him. I can't help but love and hate him for that. I love him for trying to protect me from his true self and I hate him for not loving me enough to think that I could handle what he tries to hide. I am a doctor, I've seen all sorts of pain. I've worked in the neonatal drug unit seeing newborns suffering from withdrawals. I've worked in the ER and seen the results of both massive pileups and terrorist bombings. I've comforted parents weeping for their children, men and women weeping for their lovers, and even children just wanting someone to hold them. So I know I could handle what he was hiding, or at least I thought I could.
There are so many different masks, too many different versions of him to name. The one thing I found is that it can be broken down into a basic four. These will mix and mingle but there is always one of the four in the mix. Jack told me once that he never used to show so many emotions, that he was different before. But that was before...Her.
The first mask is that of The Explorer. All he wants to do show you is the next exciting thing. He is all laughter and fun. It's the type of man that can't sit still, who runs head first into danger just because he can. Jack has told me that he was never like this before. That the old Doc was serious and brooding, but he changed for Her. Now that she's gone he's back to the brooding but there's almost a suicidal need for danger added to the mix. I know that's because he's lost Her.
The next is the mask of The Solider. That mask is full of restrained furry and a hint of fear. Jack called that mask "The On Coming Storm" when I mentioned it to him. The few times that I have seen it that mask has scared me. I know that I am not Her; I know that I can't stop him like She could. I can't get him to give mercy, and I am not brave enough to stand between his rage and the thing that caused it.
To me The Lover comes next. This mask is so rare to see. His eyes soften and small joyful smile is formed on his lips. I catch a glimpse of it, a shadow of it, in his eyes before we go to leave anywhere. He turns to face me and for a moment I swear his arm twitches and he's going to take my hand, and then he realizes who I am. I have seen surprise in his eyes like he did not expect me to be there, like he was looking at someone else and I appeared. Unless we are running for our lives he never takes my hand, the hand hold was strictly reserved for Her. It is with this mask that I see a glimmer of the true man underneath. I hate this mask, and I hate that he will never wear it for me.
The last mask is Sorrow. Like that of The Lover this mask is rare. To see this mask is for him to admit that he is in pain, that he can even feel pain like we can. He does not like to admit that. In fact I have only seen him wear it three times. The first when he spoke of his home on new Earth. The second was only last night when The Master refused to heal himself. And the third was between the two when I caught him in a room that was feminine. He was lying on the bed curled around a pillow crying. I don't even think he knew I was awake and I know I wasn't supposed to see him like that. It is only through sheer persistence that I managed to find him in the first place. I never spoke of the room to him or of what I saw that night.
Once upon a time I was a naive enough to think that he should wear the masks he does. Now I know that he wears them to protect us from the monster underneath. He wears them and pretends to be human so that we humans are more comfortable. So that we don't fear the monster he keeps contained.
As I see him now sweating and his eyes unfocused, panting and still in the grips of his nightmare and fear, I finally know why he hides himself. I finally see just what he is and I can't help the thrill of lust that blossoms in my lower abdomen and the shiver of fear that runs up my spine. I have been fooling myself this whole time. I fooled myself into thinking that he was human, that he was just like any other bloke. I see now that unlike humans, Time Lords feel things more strongly...they feel emotions more deeply. He hides these emotions from us; to protect us from our own inadequacies. He feels them more strongly than we ever could and just for a second I pity him for with his two hearts he must feel twice the heart break.
It takes not but a moment for him to pull his masks back into place and a mix of sorrow and soldier shows up. He goes to Jack and helps him to his feet both of them in a silent understanding that I cannot understand and mumbles something about meeting in the kitchen. He asks me to make tea but I don't think I can after all every time I've tried usually something's wrong with it. His tone is bored and droll, like he doesn't even care what just happened as he walks to his bathroom like he didn't just destroy everything I thought I knew about him. It's in that moment that I realize that he is a bastard, and that I hate him as much as I love him.
Jack and I make our way to the kitchen. I take down 3 mugs from the cabinet for tea but before I could even start to do anything Jack stops me. Sitting at the table I watch as Jack goes through the familiar motions and yet somehow they are not familiar. A different blend tea is picked and honey, not sugar, is placed on the table. After an unknown amount of time the Doctor shows up his hair still wet from the shower he swipes a cup of tea...he takes a swallow and grimaces and puts it back down. Looks like Jack was no better at this tea thing that I am. A call comes in before he can even open his mouth to start an explanation, and all too soon instead of our talk we are gearing up to save the world.