Disclaimer: I don't own Sherlock or Doctor Who and if you thought I did then you seriously need to rethink some things. I mean, I'm not getting another season of Doctor Who for an entire year. Do you seriously think I'd make us wait so long if I was in charge? Um, no. And don't even get me started on Sherlock... There's my rant for you, lol.

AN: Hi Guys! So this is Book 2 in the When Death Flees series. If you haven't read When Death Flees, I'd suggest clicking over to my profile and getting caught up. Although you could read this as stand-alone, you're probably going to be totally confused. If you're stopping around from book one, congratulations, you found book two! I am so excited to get this going! Thanks for sticking around for so long!

When Morning Dawns

1

Life on Mars

Humanity is a tricky term. What is it that makes us human? Is it the skin that covers us? Our beating heart? Is it the exhilaration after a roller coaster? Is it the smile and laugh shared by friends? Is it intellect? Morality?

It seems I am introspective when unable to do anything else but think.

Back to morality.

Can you have humanity without being human?

If humanity is morality- if it is knowing that your actions have consequences, and knowing right and wrong, then you could easily be something other than a human while still having humanity. An extraterrestrial, for example, could know right and wrong.

As could a machine. Right?

Having humanity is… not merely existing as a human, but having knowledge of good and evil. Can a machine know good and evil?

If it is taught, surely.

Or if it is more than a typical machine.

I wished I could click off these thoughts but when I was alone at night listening to the laughs of the madwoman on the far side of our little camp, I couldn't help but fall deeper and deeper into contemplation that frightened me.

Shutting my eyes, the afterimage of the fire danced on the back of my eyelids. With my hands tied to a pole, and my legs currently numb from some sort of drug Missy fed me, there was no escape from this jungle.

Given the foliage and position of the stars, I guessed I was somewhere in India. The humidity hugged my chest and the mosquitoes were reluctantly retiring as night fell. Missy, my captor, seemed to find it funny that I was covered in mosquito bites. "Bet you weren't getting bites when you weren't an itty-bitty human, silly." A double negative. How wonderful…

She thought I was a TARDIS. She had said so on many occasions, even pressing my hand to her chest to prove that she was a Time Lord, and, therefore, knew what she was talking about.

I remembered this Time Lord, or lady, rather, from the Doctor's now-flickering memories when I first glimpsed into his mind. They were… friends-ish? Siblings, perhaps? They were constantly trying to kill each other.

I imagine Moriarty and I would have turned out similarly if we'd lived for centuries and the idiot hadn't shot his brains out. I curled away from that memory in disgust. It's not every day someone commits suicide while literally holding your hand.

That seemed like so long ago but in reality, it had only been a few weeks.

To be fair, they were quite busy weeks. First, I woke up in a morgue, having accidentally committed suicide. Apparently I don't die easily. After that, everything was a whirlwind of other strange phenomena seemingly sparked by my impromptu return to the land of the living. I ran into the Doctor, who had met me later in my time stream, and we ended up falling headfirst into the plot of a cannibalic alien. Then I died again.

And again.

And now I was here, with no way to tell John and the Doctor that I had survived the explosion that brought down said-cannibal.

"Hey, ikky Tardi, want a slice?" Missy plopped down in front of me. Her hair was long and chestnut and fell gracefully down her shoulders. She was still in the tattered suit she must have worn during her regeneration, and she held out a slice of something that looked like a cantaloupe. With a grin, she did not wait for my response and instead suffered the sweet thing in my mouth. "There you go, sweetheart." She cleaned my face with a handkerchief from nowhere and I resisted spitting in her pretty little face. Her mouth quipped up, and she leaned forward conspiratorially. "Want to know a secret, Tardi?"

"Not particularly."

Missy laughed, far too loud and then her voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "Twelve isn't primary."

I blinked. "What?"

"Never mind, dear. You were much more intelligent when you were a machine, you know."

I clenched my jaw and Missy giggled. "Oh? Does that bother you, Tardi? That you're a machine?"

Instead of answering, I glared at her steadily. "Are we done?"

"Absolutely not. What else am I supposed to do in the middle of nowhere but talk to you until you're better, yeah?"

And…

There was the other issue.

I was stuck here because I couldn't travel out. When I escaped from the explosion, (not even sure how that happened) something ripped in me. Not psychically, but it was painful enough that I dreamed I'd been shot through the head.

But now I was stuck, unable to find that spark in my mind that would be my release. It was quite painful to even search for it. Last time I tried, I nearly blacked out from the agony.

A mental wound. Didn't even know that could happen like this. Then again, this is me after all, and the normal rules don't seem to apply.

I let my eyes glass over and stared sightlessly over her shoulder. Irritated, Missy stood and kicked me without much malice. She was in her mid- twenties, if I had to guess, and full of fire. "Don't worry, sweet. We're gonna fix you up. Then we'll fly right out of here. Maybe find a peaceful planet to decimate."

For a moment, Missy sounded almost motherly, and if she was actually concerned about me and was offering a soothing activity.

What kind of maniac was she?

"Get back here you naughty boy!"

Great.

I stumbled through the foliage, my legs still uncooperative because of Missy's numbing serum. My headache never seemed to cease, and I tried to ignore it.

The good thing was I could move, and that was enough to run with.

The leaves whipping my cheeks as I sped, I picked up my pace. Missy was a lot faster than she looked. Risking a glanced back, I caught a glimpse of a tattered black suit. Yes, quite fast.

Tripping on a root, I scrambled and kept going. She couldn't run after me forever.

I spotted an overhanging branch ahead and reached up. Grunting, I jumped and wrapped my fingers around the slippery branch. I threw myself upwards around the branch with surprising ease and crouched above it, shocked that that had actually worked. Then, shaking away my surprise, I scrambled up the tree. A monkey squawked at me but I ignored it and placed foot after foot higher.

She could climb after me, surely. But I doubted she would see me up here.

Stilling, I tried to quiet my ragged breath. I shut my eyes and breathed through my nose while my heart thumped in my throat. A moment later, leaves rustled and steps grew near. I looked down and there she was.

Her hair was askew and she was breathing hard, but she still had enough air to let out a sad sort of shout. "Come back!" Missy screamed. She was counting under her breath and clapped her hands in a strange rhythm I had heard on her lips several times before. Ba-ba-ba-BA, ba-ba-ba-BA. Over and over. Slowing to a walk beneath me, she shuddered and I could see it from twenty feet above.

I stayed as still as I could.

Suddenly, Missy went quiet. It was then I noticed the gun in her hand.

Fantastic.

Slowly, Missy looked up. For the life of me, I couldn't discern why. The drumming died on her lips instantly and something seemed to lift from her shoulders.

"Playing hide-seek, Tardi?" She giggled and the anger in her eyes faded once they latched on me. Great. With perfect sanity, she said, "You idiot, get down here. Your legs are going to give out in two minutes. The last inject will take effect."

I blinked and licked my lips nervously. If I suddenly couldn't walk while up in a tree, there might be a slight problem.

But I was sure not about to climb back down to my captor.

Missy rolled her eyes. "Fine. You made me." With that, she lifted the gun and fired. I tried to dodge, but something invisible landed on my chest and tugged me through the air. I somersaulted through past branches and that monkey.

With surprising gentleness, the pull set me down on the floor in front of Missy. I had not even brushed the leaves as I was pulled down. "Neat trick," I grunted, irritated.

"I think so too." She flashed a grin. Taking a small vial out of her pocket, she grabbed my hand and pressed the liquid into my wrist before I could even think to react. "A counter agent. Now I won't have to drag you," she explained quickly.

I could feel my limbs, but I was still stuck to her side because of that stupid gun. Glancing at the weapon, I noted the empty canister on the top. That was her last shot, whatever weapon that was. My head pulsed with pain but I didn't react.

Pursing her lips sadly, she tucked the gun in her waist and began walking back to the camp. The pull in my chest forced me forward so I followed grudgingly.

Fifteen minutes later, we were back to our little camp. A small fire pit, a tent-like covering for Missy, and a spot on the ground where I had been captive. She'd nicked her supplies from a nearby town and had been staying out here for several months. According to her, she did something that caused her to spit out in this universe, and she'd regenerated as she fell from the sky.

I wondered what she'd done. The Doctor's memories had become more and more blurry as my headaches grew worse.

Instead of forcing me to sit, numb-legged on the dirt spot like before, Missy left me standing near the fire. With that same sad quiet, she went into her tent and crawled out again with a blanket, tarp, and a rope.

I raised an eyebrow questioningly but Missy ignored me. Instead, she picked up some long sticks and busily made a lean-to- like structure which she covered with a tarp. She then stuffed the blanket inside and placed her hands on her hips in satisfaction. Her eyes darted to me nervously.

What did she want?

"There," she said finally when I did not react. She gestured at the lean-to. "For you."

"Oh." I gave her a small smile. She seemed so very childish sometimes. "Treating me better won't make me stay."

She shifted her weight and a spark of fear flitted through her eyes. Swiping a stray hair behind her ear, she shrugged. "Yes, but I can't numb you forever. And it's safer for you this way anyhow." Why did she care again?

Quickly, Missy stepped forward and grabbed my hand. Surprised, I didn't resist her pull into the lean-to. Crouched inside with me, she crossed her legs and stuck out her tongue in concentration as she tied my ankle to the tree. "Still can't have you run, though, right?"

I stayed silent and the pull on my chest faded. The gun's effects must be fading. But I was tied expertly to a tree with a knot I had never seen before in my life.

"It's a self-tying knot," Missy offered cheerfully. "It keeps tying itself over and over again when you try to undo it. With a smile, she patted me on the cheek and shuffled backward out of the lean-to. "Time to sleep, Sherlock."

I peered at her curiously. That was the first time she'd called me by my actual name. "Goodbye, Missy."

"What do you think?" Missy asked, throwing her arms up and twirling in a circle for the full effect. She was wearing a burgundy skirt with a suit jacket of the same color. She jabbed the ground with a black umbrella and had a little flowery hat perched on the side of her head. Where had she gotten all of that? It was horribly impractical for a jungle.

"I think you could start a Mary Poppins club. You and Mycroft."

Missy blinked at me, apparently having no idea who Mary Poppins was. She instead latched onto the more familiar name. "Mycroft. Is that your brother? Like in the stories?"

I nodded and swatted a fly away.

"... He thinks you're dead right now."

Instantly, I snapped my gaze to hers. "I doubt it. He is quite capable when he gets off his lazy arse."

"But even he couldn't possibly find you."

I glared at her but the Mistress wasn't perturbed. Instead, she sighed and sat down next to me. The manic delusion died from her eyes. It was happening more often now and I wondered why. She stuck out her lip. "I have a brother too."

"I've met him."

And I had. The Doctor gave me an adequate description of his naughty sibling while we were trapped in a closet.

Missy looked at me with surprise. "I believe you." and then suddenly spiteful, "The Doctor is always getting his hands on things that aren't his."

"You do realize I don't belong to you, Missy? I'm not one of your toys."

Missy snorted dismissively. "The whole world is my toy, Sherlock Holmes. That includes you. Besides," She smirked and poked me in the chest. "you chose me."

I raised an eyebrow incredulously. "To be perfectly clear, Missy, I would never choose you."

Missy's eyes met mine and maybe they looked sad. I don't know. "But you did. Back when you and I weren't hiding. Before the war. I was so young… We traveled the stars, you and me."

"You're insane."

Missy huffed. "Unfortunately."

Missy said that I was a TARDIS once. Fine. Perhaps I was. As much as it frightened me to admit it, it was a very logical conclusion. It took me several weeks of stewing to accept that.

But… her TARDIS?

No. I would never consent to travel with a maniac. Not someone like her, leaving smoke and dust in her wake.

But maybe…

No.

That left only a few options. Either I had 'chosen' her (whatever that meant) and had been letting her loose on the universe, something I found quite unlikely. Or she had forced me along.

Or she was stranded and needed me. She could be completely lying altogether and happened to stumble across a former TARDIS without memories of his past (oh, I hated that thought). I wouldn't put it past her to take advantage of the situation.

But looking at her now, her eyes a sad sort of confusion, I wondered how much of Missy was throttled under insanity. She seemed to care for me.

Which did not make any sense at all. Had I seen something beneath all of the bravoes before?

What if she was mine?

"Missy?"

"Hmm?"

"I want to go home."

Missy scowled and stood, brushing herself off. "You're already home, you idiot." With a sigh, she cocked her head and looked at me curiously. Her piercing eyes seemed to peel me back layer by layer. What did she see? Did I want to know?

If John was here, he'd know what to do. He'd know what her expression meant. He'd be able to find some kind of humanity in her. But would John find humanity in me when I broke her hearts?

AN: Woo Hoo! There's the first chapter! If you haven't noticed, I love Missy. She is literally so fun to play with. Anyway, leave a review and tell me what you think!

So I decided in this story that Missy is the Doctor's sister/brother (you know what I mean). That's not really cannon but, shoot, this is fanfiction and I do what I like.