*Disclaimer: Doctor Who and the established canon characters and lore contained within the following story are not mine. They are the property of BBC Wales and any of its licensees and constituents. I write fan fiction for pleasure, entertainment, and feedback, not monetary gain. Any situations, inventions, concepts, and characters you do not recognise are out of my own imagination, unless otherwise stated.
Dear Readers,
Welcome to my first Doctor Who fiction! If you've followed me for years, you know this is quite a jump from my established writing of "Potter only". However, the first fan fiction I ever wrote was for Star Trek. In the past 2 years or so, I have become increasingly ensconced within all things Doctor Who, and the more I find out, the more I like. It offers mirrors, twins, parallels, alternates, and all manner of sci-fi-geeky things which I enjoy, so I decided I'd take a shot at writing my own. Keep in mind that this fic will hop back and forth between New!Who, Classic!Who, alternate universes, parallel universes, may or may not include information from DW radio plays, novels, along with being supplemented by my own imagination. When in doubt, you can always ask me what's going on, and I'll do my best to explain--as long as it doesn't interfere with the storyline by revealing too much too quickly! Enjoy!
~Rae Carson
Doctor, Heal Thyself
Prologue
Parallel Universe
Present Day
Ever since the incident with the Judoon at the hospital where she worked, Martha Jones's life had taken a dramatic turn. Some of Earth's authorities had known for quite some time now that aliens existed in London. It made a lot of sense the further she thought on it, which is most likely why an agency called UNIT had recruited her shortly afterward. Though Martha hadn't any credentials or experience, that seemed less important to UNIT than interrogatives with questions such as, "Can you psychologically handle not only the presence of, but interacting with extra-terrestrials?"
Her answers were apparently to their liking, since the results of her school finals were expedited—no doubt due to pressure from UNIT. Nobody at the university seemed to care whether or not Martha Jones actually wanted a residency with some faceless agency; the school faculty instead behaved as if she were tainted or untouchable following the hospital debacle. It was quite hurtful, since she had considered many of her instructors and classmates to be her friends in the years leading up to their graduating. As a result, Martha elected not to attend her graduation ceremony, since the only people likely to show up would be her father and his floozy-of-the-week. Martha's sister was traveling abroad and her brother had joined the military straight after their mother's death so he could find some direction in his life.
Momentarily, Martha wished that her mother was still alive to see her graduate...and unwished it shortly thereafter. Working with UNIT meant keeping secrets—a lot of them—and it would be nearly impossible for Martha to keep everything she did from her mum. She also doubted her mother would know how to deal with Martha's scrambled feelings after having been kissed by a barefoot alien man on the moon. And what a kiss it was, she reminisced longingly.
Martha knew no chance remained of meeting up with the enigmatic Doctor ever again, for he had been killed in pursuit of that vampiric woman. After being cornered, the Plasmavore had teleported to one of the Judoon ships, but the Doctor had traced her signal and immediately teleported himself with the overloaded MRI machine over to the same ship to prevent the Plasmavore's escape. The Doctor's last act had been to activate the strongest deflector shields aboard the Judoon vessel. By so doing, he managed to contain the explosion of the MRI machine to just the Judoon ship and the surrounding area.
He was a hero—he managed to save not only everybody in the hospital, but over half the population of the planet, and nobody knew about it. Nobody except those few witnesses on the moon...and who would believe them? Only the tabloids, as Martha found out. The less she spoke about her experience with "normal" humans, the less people thought of her as mental, which suited her just fine.
Although Martha went to work everyday just like other people, it required her to follow stringent clearance and security guidelines. One might refer to the guidelines as "militant". She lived off-site in her flat, but the UNIT people still liked to behave as if they owned her. Several weeks after reporting to them, Martha still hadn't made any real friends but supposed that was probably for the best. The people who she trained with seemed rather abrasive, impersonable, and much preferred to keep their distance from anybody else. All of the training Martha was being given was leading up to something...she just didn't know what. It was also extremely odd that during her so-called "residency", she had yet to see a single patient.
Presently, she was en route to a top-top secret installation that was located somewhere off the surface of the planet. She had learned early on that it was best to directly ask questions as little as possible and instead learn what she needed to know through other means. It irked her that she still didn't know where exactly she was teleporting or precisely why they chose her to be there. Her assignment debriefing had lasted practically forever, but it didn't consist of any sort of real, solid information. It was more of the same type of extra-terrestrial stuff, except this time she was given physical training in case a "hostile alien engaged her in combat." Martha thought it was rather ominous that somebody in the medical profession was being trained more like a soldier than a doctor. Obviously, these UNIT people meant serious business.
She could only assume the new training paired with her cryptic orders "to observe something that was of non-Terran origin" meant that she was going to get up close and personal with an alien life form. Hopefully this also meant that the presumed life form would be less threatening than the Judoon had been.
Martha stepped down out of the teleport bay to be greeted by two heavily armed guards. Clearly they don't want the wrong person gaining access, she thought warily. She doubted those weapons had any lower setting than "shoot to kill". As she was escorted through the corridors, Martha's sense of anticipation heightened. Bulkheads had painted warnings such as, "AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY" and "DANGER: TOXIC ATMOSPHERE". A few people walked by in containment suits. Otherwise, the outpost seemed scantily staffed. Considering the nature of what the installation probably held, it was no mystery why UNIT wanted as few people as possible to be aware of its existence. The silence still bothered her, however. The outpost seemed nearly as still as a crypt.
The guards led her through a non-descript doorway and left her with an older gentleman in a lab coat that matched her own.
"I'm Dr. Joel Sutherland," he said, and appeared to be sizing her up. "So you must be the lucky Martha Jones to whom they gave this assignment." Martha detected his sarcasm right off.
"What exactly is the assignment?" she asked curiously. "And yes, I am Martha Jones."
Dr. Sutherland jerked a thumb toward several large panes of glass within a darkened observation area. "It's him. You're supposed to watch him and note any changes in his behaviour."
"And is 'he' an alien?" The individual in the room was laying on a bed with his back to her.
"I've been told he is. Physically, he is externally indistinguishable from humans. The largest difference is his multi-lobed brain. Instead of having just two lobes like a human, he appears to have 12 or even 13 separate lobes. Other than that, the differences are minimal—a few missing organs, highly specialised endocrine system. And his blood is amazing. It assimilates oxygen at an efficiency that's 50% greater than yours or mine. His liver and heart are on the opposite side of the body from most humans, almost like his body is a mirror of somebody else. Not unheard of amongst humans, as you know—just extremely rare. The place where he excels the most is mentally, even though he's clearly impaired in that capacity."
Martha mulled over the information that Sutherland had just given her. It appeared she really was going to get to interact with an alien being after all. Then she asked, "How do you know he's impaired?"
"I don't know the full story. I can tell you that UNIT said his ship crashed and that when they found him, he had a terrible head injury." Sutherland paused and looked troubled, as if internally debating whether or not to tell Martha more.
"So UNIT says. What do you say?" she asked softly.
He looked into her eyes for a time before replying, "I'm not entirely certain a crash is responsible for his current condition. I can't say for certain—I have nothing to compare it to, of course—but the scars he has are indicative of some sort of lobotomy. That's why I can't tell if he's supposed to have 12 or 13 lobes in his brain."
Martha frowned. She didn't like the idea of those in the medical profession performing experimental surgery when it wasn't necessary. That included surgery on aliens as well as human beings. She valued all forms of life, whether or not two of the three species she'd encountered so far had been less than friendly. Then she back-tracked a bit.
"You knew my name. Did UNIT tell you to expect me?"
Sutherland pursed his lips and folded his arms as he said, "Well, not...entirely."
Her brow furrowing, Martha inquired, "And what exactly does that mean?"
"It would seem our subject in question," began Sutherland, nodding toward the person behind the glass, "knows who you are."
"He...what?" Martha was mystified. Something was niggling the back of her brain...
"It also seems that you two met in the same hospital with the Judoon attack."
Suddenly, the niggling something clicked in Martha's head. "John Smith! He said he was alien, but I didn't know whether or not to believe him. Last I knew, he died in that encounter, because some sort of...thing...Plasmavore I think it was? Murdered him." Her eyes flew open wide as she continued excitedly, "Are you telling me he's still alive?"
Dr. Sutherland sadly shook his head. "I'm afraid I don't know of any 'John Smith'. The patient in that observatory goes by the name of 'Donald Noble'."