Chapter Two
It all started that morning. I was sleeping on the old tattered couch by the control room wall. I'd spent most of the night before reading Northanger Abbey until I fell asleep with the book open on my chest. After what seemed only a few minutes, I heard laughter. I opened my eyes blearily and saw the Doctor's smiling face.
'I didn't realize you were a bookworm!' he exclaimed as I picked up my book and marked my place.
'There are a lot of things you don't realize about me, Doctor.' I hadn't meant it to pop out, but it did. And it sounded bitter. About as bitter as pure vanilla extract when you lick it off your finger while baking cookies. (And if you've never tried that, it's as bitter as bitter gets!)
The smile slipped of the Doctor's face and he looked confused for a moment. I bowed my head, shamed.
Immediately, though, he hitched his grin onto his face again and cried, 'Well, where to today?' But the words sounded forced, like he was trying a little too hard to be cheerful.
'Oh, I don't know,' I said, mimicking his tone. 'You choose,' I suggested, trying to look apologetic.
My attempt, however, was in vain, for he looked away and started for the console, missing my apologetic expression entirely. I sighed heavily; this was going to be a long day.
The Doctor chose an isolated planet in the Horsehead Nebula. It was a pretty sight, with a rocky cliff-side beach, the salty air moist with spray. Thought it was a lovely sight, I took no pleasure in it. I was still sorry about what I had said and, more to the point, how I had said it.
'Nothing like the briny smell of the sea to calm even the tightest nerves!' exclaimed the Doctor, breathing deeply in an over-exaggerated fashion.
I made a slight noise of agreement in the back of my throat, being unable to bring myself to say anything. I was rehearsing an apology in my head.
'D-doctor...' I stuttered.
'What is it, Molly?'
I took a deep breath. 'About what I said... earlier...'
'Which bit?' he inquired dully.
'Th-the bit about not knowing much about-'
I was interrupted by a splash from the water.
We both looked down in unison and saw a white ring of sea foam where the initiator of the splash had disappeared. 'What on earth...' I mused quietly, squinting at the water.
'I think, Molly, since we are involved, we can safely say "what in the universe",' the Doctor said with a light laugh.
'Well, what in the universe?' I amended.
We found out, too. Only too soon. Lacertian Reptilians- vicious, telepathic water creatures. The afternoon ended with a vicious battle for our lives (which included me nearly being dragged off by a pair of reptilians who were ordering in my mind not to shout for help).Finally, with a few clever measures by the Doctor, we made a run for the TARDIS; that sainted blue police box that served as our "getaway car" too many times to count.
We'd just slammed the door and the Doctor was fiddling with the controls as I laughed breathlessly. 'Imagine that!' I said sarcastically. 'Us, running into aliens. That doesn't happen often.'
Then I noticed something was wrong. The Doctor's eyes were closed and he wasn't laughing or even smiling, which was unusual after a good scrap. He had a nasty cut by his temple, but I thought nothing of it. I had quite a few scratches myself. But then he slumped forward, lifeless.
I couldn't even scream. Time seemed to slow down, like in those bad TV shows where someone's fall or faint is replayed six or seven times in slow motion with the sound of a heartbeat in the background. As I said, I wasn't one for clichés, but that's just what happened... without the six or seven times bit. Before I knew it, he hit the TARDIS floor and time sped up again.
So I was kneeling next to an unconscious Doctor not knowing what the hell I was supposed to do. Where was that dream-like life I'd just been living? It seemed like it had been suddenly turned into a nightmarish hell.
'What do I do?! What do I do?! Oh my fucking God! What the hell am I supposed to do?!' I screeched to the TARDIS at large. I took the Doctor's pulse, still shrieking. Suddenly, there was a sound from the TARDIS and my phone buzzed in my pocket. The 'Intergalactic Mobile', I always called it. I hurriedly pulled it out and looked at the screen. The word 'Martha' was displayed in black letters. I realized that the TARDIS was trying to tell me something.
'Of course!' I squealed. I dialed her number frantically and waited impatiently for her to pick up.
I kept my fingers on the Doctor's neck, making sure his faint but steady pulse didn't fade out. 'Come on, Martha!' I cried. 'Pick up, you stupid-'
'Hello?' Martha's voice sounded wary. 'Who is it?'
'It's me, Molly,' I told her quickly. 'Where are you?' I asked in a crazed voice.
'Calm down and talk slowly, Molls,' ordered Martha in a criminally calm voice.
'I can't calm down!' I squawked. 'The Doctor! Something's happened to him! I need your help!'
'Can you get here?' she asked, suddenly businesslike and emotionless. She really did make a wonderful doctor.
'I... I think so,' I muttered, suddenly unsure. Indeed, the Doctor had allowed me to learn the basics of driving the TARDIS, which had taken a while and taken us to very... erm... interesting places. 'Where are you?' I repeated.
'My practice.'
'When?' I questioned.
'February 3rd, 2010, around three in the afternoon.'
'All right,' I said. 'We'll be there in no time.'
I hung up and hurriedly moved to the console. I set the dials in the right spot and we were off.
After much bumping (and me ending up in the corner on the floor clutching my shoulder), I managed to get us to Martha's practice. She had set herself up late last year in a small business district near my sister Charlotte's apartment. I was immensely proud of her. Of all the Doctor's former companions, I liked Martha best.
I opened the door to see Martha pacing anxiously around her office. The sight of her in her white coat relieved my panic, but only slightly.
Upon seeing me, Martha hurried to my side and we managed to carry the Doctor to the examining bed. Really, he was heavy when he was unconscious!
She felt his pulse, listened to his breathing and said, 'Nothing's wrong.'
'What?' I inquired, thinking I'd heard her wrong.
She shrugged. 'Apart from being unconscious- and running a high temperature- there's nothing wrong with him.'
'But he passed out!' I protested.
'I know,' she told me, pulling a thoughtful face. 'And that's what's worrying me.'
'How do you mean?'
'He once told me all about his regenerations. This looks suspiciously like one.'
My heart stopped. I couldn't speak. My Doctor? Regenerating? It wasn't possible! I had always told myself that looks don't matter to me. But I confess that there definitely is something in familiarity, isn't there? Personally, my answer when you asked "what do you first think of when I say 'the Doctor?'" would have to be "charisma, bed hair, and converse". What would his new self be like?
My emotions must have shown on my face because Martha smiled her reassuring smile and said softly, 'There is a strong chance that I'm wrong, you know. This might just be calcium or sodium deficiency.'
I laughed weakly. 'We'll just have to wait and see, won't we?' I murmured, trying to show more confidence than I felt.
She smiled wanly for a moment before saying, 'Well, I can't keep him in here.'
I laughed wildly- it sounded like she was talking about a stray dog!
'I have an appointment in here at three,' she explained, rolling her eyes at me.
'Oh,' I said, thinking for a moment. 'Well... my sister.'
'You mean Charlotte?' questioned Martha.
I nodded. 'She lives near here.'
'I know! She's one of my patients!' she said excitedly. 'Last time she was here, a couple months ago, we were talking about you.'
'Nothing bad, I hope.'
She laughed lightly. 'No.' Sighing, she muttered, 'Here, I'll get my car. We can load him in the back and get him to Charlotte's.'
'Erm...'
'What?' she inquired, in the midst of acting as the Doctor's human crutch.
'What about the TARDIS?' I wondered. 'Your next patient might think it's a little strange that there's a honking great police call box in your office.'
She let go of the Doctor, who fell limply to the table, smacking his head. 'Good point, that,' she praised me, completely ignoring the Doctor. 'There's an old alley behind the practice. You can park her there.'
I nodded.
Ten minutes later, I re-entered the office and helped Martha half drag-half carry the Doctor to her car. I gave her directions to Charlotte's apartment, only half aware of what I was saying. I was thinking about all the times I'd had with the Doctor. Happy times. What if the new Doctor was different? I mean, different inside as well as outside. How would things be then?
Then I mentally kicked myself and told myself that Martha had said it was possible she was mistaken. I took hope in that. The hope of a drowning person when they say to themselves, "just a few more feet to the surface". A crazy person's hope.
I knocked on Charlotte's door, praying that she was in. The door opened, and I saw Charlotte's familiar face, crowned with raven black hair and accented with wide brown eyes.
Charlotte's glance landed on the Doctor, and her jaw dropped. 'What happened to him, Molly?' she asked me in a low voice.
'Long story,' I muttered. 'Can we use the spare bedroom, Lottie?'
She nodded mutely, stepping aside so Martha and I could drag the Doctor into the apartment.
The spare bedroom was a small cluttered room in the back of the apartment. Charlotte sometimes had Liam over to stay, mostly when I was in the area so we could visit.
Trying to ignore the flood of memories with the four of us (me, Charlotte, Liam, and the Doctor) and our many happy moments around Charlotte's table, I helped Martha deposit the Doctor on the bed.
'Not much we can do until he's conscious,' Martha told me, stepping back and toward the door.
I just stared at the Doctor's limp form. I'd never seen him sleep- he always said he didn't need sleep. I had never even seen him sit still for more than three seconds together. Now he was completely still, like a stone statue.
Noticing where my eyes lingered, Charlotte suggested, 'We could order take-out for lunch. What would you like, Molly?'
I shrugged. I didn't much care.
'Martha?' Charlotte was employing a falsely cheery voice.
'Anything. What's close and good?' Martha inquired, taking my elbow and leading me out of the room.