A Breath Away
By Sonic Jules
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Disclaimer: Doctor Who and the characters of said show do not belong to me, no matter how hard I've wished for it. No infringement meant on the owners and associates, nor BBC.
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A/N 1: As always, my humble thanks to Catharticone for her generosity with prompts. (and beta-ing, and helpful hints ...) She more than not guides this writer's muse.
A/N 2: This story is complete, with nine chapters total. I hope you'll like it, as it's a little different from my others. :o) Let the mystery begin...
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Chapter One:
The Perils of Capture
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The Doctor awoke to the feeling of being smothered. After the natural panic had subsided, he listened, trying to figure out exactly where he was.
His memories were a bit foggy; he remembered a flash of light, a stabbing headache, then nothing more. He shook his head slightly, trying to clear the cobwebs, and realized that his face was covered in cloth. Burlap perhaps, with a strange smell that reminded him of chloroform.
He tried to move his legs, but they felt unusually heavy, as if a great weight lay upon them. He wriggled his fingers and toes. He was definitely meant to stay here, but then again, he rarely did what others intended. Working with the loosest limb, he was able to remove the lower portion of his arm from the weight - perhaps ropes - that bound him. He couldn't reach up enough to remove the scratchy cloth from his face, but some freedom of movement was better than none.
He muddled through his memories, trying to find something recent enough to tell him where he was and why he was here. Who had abducted him? Why had they done it? Was he alone?
The soft exhale of breath to his left stifled all thoughts into instant focus. Rose!
He couldn't see her. The heavy fabric covered his eyes, stealing the sight of her. He knew somehow that she was similarly bound, too. Breathing was growing difficult, but his respiratory bypass system would permit the Doctor to function with relative normalcy. This would not be true for Rose, however. He needed to reach her quickly; she could not last long.
Blindly his free hand reached out for her. "Rose!" he cried, his voice muffled by the thick cloth.
Still he groped and grasped, and finally his fingers brushed over something soft, something cold. He closed his hand over hers and hoped beyond hope that he was not too late.
"Rose!" He shook the hand he held, squeezing it too tightly, hoping for any kind of response. He received none.
A vision of two halves of a Grovourian coffin entered his thoughts, and he knew in that moment that he lay in one and Rose within the other. He recalled that the caskets had been sitting side by side on a plinth, clearly intended for use as an offering. Abruptly he realized that he and Rose were now the offering.
Quickly releasing his hold on her, the Doctor felt around until his fingers landed on the rim of her small prison. He pushed and pulled with a strength even he didn't know he possessed, rocking the half of the tomb in which she lay. He continued struggling, exerting much more effort than his body was willing to lend, until finally she and her casket toppled over. It was the best he could do at the moment, and the most he could hope for was that she would be free of the coverings and chemicals and begin breathing fresh air once more.
Still, in order to help her further, he would have to free himself. The noise of her falling had not brought forth their captors, wherever they were, but he had no doubts they would arrive soon. He had to get to Rose. Now.
Grasping the side of his own half of their prison, the Doctor began rocking, working toward his own freedom as he attempted to turn over on the opposite side of where Rose had landed.
It didn't take long though it did take a considerable amount of his energy. But every moment that passed without a sound from Rose was another he couldn't afford to lose. There was no choice.
Crashing none too gracefully to the floor, the Doctor gratefully noted the heavy weight upon him had shifted, and soon he was able to push out of the cocoon his coffin-like bed had turned into. Untwining the ropes around his waist after maneuvering his arms from them, he quickly moved toward Rose on hands and knees, calling to her.
The half-casket she'd been in had fallen away from her, leaving her to lie on her side yet remain motionless, even though the medicated cloths had fallen away from her face. It had been the most he hoped for; toppling her over as he had. Yet it still was not enough. The Doctor could not hear the sounds of Rose drawing breath.
Upon reaching his companion he shook her harshly, calling her name with such urgency even he did not recognize his own voice. When he rolled Rose onto her back, her deathly pallor shocked him into silence.
Placing his fingertips on her neck, the Doctor felt no pulse beneath his touch.
"No! No, Rose, no!" He bent forward, his ear to her chest, listening for any signs of life. The sadness etched on his features turned to agony as a sob escaped him.
"No! I won't allow it!" he yelled angrily in her face, his words so forced her hair billowed beneath his breath as sadness constricted his hearts.
He bent closer, grabbing her face as he began forcing air into her lungs, determined to breathe life back into his companion. His urgency made him light-headed, but he paid it no heed. He continued on, breathing for her, then breathing with her.
Suddenly he stopped.
He waited unbearable seconds until finally he felt the soft caress of her breath on his face. She was breathing!
Bending down over her chest once more, he listened as her heart began its own rhythm, picking up speed slowly but surely. He laid his head on her, feeling the movement as his eyes closed. Nothing else held his attention. Nothing was more important to him than this moment.
"What is the meaning of this?!" A harsh voice echoed in the quiet room, startling the Time Lord. He sat up quickly.
"You!" The Doctor seethed. "What the hell were you trying to do?"
Deep lines etched the brow of the humanoid the Doctor faced, now standing and staring with venom. "You've ruined our gathering," the grotesque man growled, his anger evident from the rising red of his pasty grey pallor.
"Yes? Well, I'm afraid that's not all I'll be ruining," the Doctor replied smartly.
The two stared at one another for a moment. The man's eyes closed into slits, while the Doctor relaxed slightly, hands in his pockets, rocking on his heels. He grinned at his captor.
"So, where are we, anyway? Can't say as I remember meeting you, or even coming here, for that matter."
"You are on Glassgorn. In my cellar. You were an uninvited guest, however, your timing was impeccable."
"Really? How's that?" the Doctor asked cordially.
"The villagers had grown suspicious of the disappearances. No one will miss you and your beloved."
"Ahh," the Time Lord said, one hand reaching for his head to rub his scalp thoughtfully. "Sacrifices?"
"Yes."
"Hmm. Not one for giving much information, are you? I mean, if you're going to kill me, I'd at least like to know exactly why I'm being sacrificed."
"Kill both of you," the man sneered.
"Yes, well, you've already done her in," he pointed a thumb in Rose's direction. "I'm all that's left now," the Doctor offered.
"She is not dead. She is drugged. Death will only occur when I make it so."
"Nooooo," the Doctor said slowly. "Your drugs affected her human system a bit differently than I think you were expecting. So, I suppose the sacrifices are off, then. Can't do it right if one of us has already bitten the dust, am I correct?"
The tall man stepped into the Time Lord's personal space, bending to match the Doctor's height. "One will do," he grinned.
The Doctor stepped back, wincing slightly. "Ever heard of breath mints?" he asked. "I believe I may have some in my pocket. Since I'm about to die I suppose I might as well share."
Bringing his hand out of his pocket, the Oncoming Storm showed his enemy what he revealed. "Hmm, this isn't breath mints. Sorry," he winked, then turned on the sonic screwdriver. The flash of light and piercing hum brought the man to his knees, moaning in significant pain. When he fell to the ground unconscious, the Doctor shut off the instrument, turning back to Rose.
Calling to her, he bent down, feeling her pulse beneath his fingertips. It had grown stronger, and he was grateful. However, she was still unconscious, and the man lying insensate had clearly stated 'our' gathering, which meant there were more of them. And that meant he had to get them out of this place. Now.
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