Author's Note: Next chapter. I've had a bit of a lazy week this week, but now I'm getting back into a writing routine again. So hopefully this means more updates soon...perhaps even more than one next week. We'll see. :)
Oh and just a warning, these next couple of chapters will be a little dark...
I do not own Doctor Who or any of its characters.
Thank you to everyone who is reading/following/favoriting/reviewing this. It is always appreciated.
Chapter Three
Silence and darkness. Those were the only constants left in James Robert McCrimmons's life.
Huddled on a platform in the bowels of the station, Jamie had no idea how much time had passed since he last heard any sounds at all. He was certain that it had been hours and guessed that it might have been days. There was no way to tell for sure from where he currently was. No light ever penetrated the shadows surrounding him nor were there ever any changes in his environment of metal beams and wires. Nevertheless, the lack of any external cues as to how much time had gone by did not affect one other certainty that Jamie had eventually worked out: that the Knights had long since departed and left everyone on the station for dead.
However, neither this knowledge nor the slow passage of time was enough to compel him to move very far from where he had hidden himself.
"And make sure to keep out of sight."
Jamie shivered and pulled a ratty blanket he had recently acquired over his head. Exhaustion made his eyelids droop. Soon he found himself lying down, curled on the platform in a tight ball. He didn't want to go to sleep, but severe hunger and thirst combined with hours of sustained hyper-vigilance had taken their toll. It wasn't long before his eyes closed and he fell into a fitful sleep.
Against his will, he started to dream.
Smoke and screams followed him everywhere as Jamie ran down the corridors.
There were several moments along the way when he cursed himself for running and leaving the Doctor behind. These fits of anger with himself were tempered, however, by the memory of the Doctor's voice when he told him to flee. Jamie had stopped being afraid of the Doctor years ago and he knew that he was not expected to mindlessly obey every command given to him. However, the piper also knew that there were times when the Doctor would brook absolutely no argument from him and this was clearly one of them.
Still, while Jamie could reluctantly heed the instruction for a strategic retreat, every fiber of his being would not let him abandon the Doctor completely.
Jamie darted around a corridor, his heart thumping wildly in his chest. At one point, one of the Knights had spotted him and started waving some kind of stick at him that fired out a purple light. The piper had just seen that light kill one of the scientists, so he knew that he had to avoid it at all costs. He ran in the opposite direction, weaving back and forth randomly to make it difficult for his pursuer to aim. He was certain that the Knight was gaining ground and desperately tried to speed up his pace when a shrill shriek startled him into stopping.
The Scot turned to see an old man in white stumble backwards onto the floor and raise his arms out toward the Knight, a gesture begging for mercy. The Knight merely grunted before shooting the man in the leg. The man screamed again, and Jamie balled up his fists, ready to fight. Before he could react, however, the stomping of more boots filled his ears. The Knight in front of him had pulled out what looked like a short saber and had thrust it into the man's abdomen.
Burning with anger and sickened to the core, Jamie fled. Battle instincts which he had honed over the years told him that there was nothing he could do and that any intervention on his part would just result in his own death as well. It didn't make him feel any better, but it was enough to compel his feet to move.
'I have to find the Doctor. I have to save him.'
Those words became a mantra that gave Jamie the will and focus to continue to flee and evade capture even though it also meant running away from a series of hopeless battles filled with people who pleaded for someone to help them and with scenes of torture and slaughter.
At one point, he hid in an alcove within a corridor that was stained with blood and charred debris. He could hear the Knights marching along the hallways that intersected with this one and decided to wait until they passed to resume his search for the Doctor. While he waited, an odd sensation overtook him. Something was prodding at the corners of his mind, a faint awareness that was both alien and comfortingly familiar to him.
Despite his grim situation, a trace of a smile played on Jamie's lips. He recognized the presence that had brushed up against his thoughts as the Doctor trying to communicate with him. Not only did it mean that the Doctor was still alive, it also meant that he was probably trying to formulate a plan to escape. Jamie closed his eyes and cleared his mind in order to let the Doctor's message permeate his brain. He strained to concentrate and felt more than heard what was said.
'Jamie…you must not let them catch you.'
'Do what you must to stay alive….'
'And make sure to keep out of sight.'
Jamie's eyes popped open, a shiver running through his body. Rather than giving him hope, the Doctor's instructions had created a tight ball of anxiety deep within him. He was convinced that the Doctor had not devised a plan nor was he in the process of doing so. Instead he was doing one of the things Jamie feared most: he was giving up. Worse still, the Doctor was pushing him away in an attempt to shield him from whatever disaster he thought was coming.
Jamie ground his jaw. By now, he had the prudence to be frightened whenever the Doctor was scared of something, but that terror could never supersede the things that defined him. He was James Robert McCrimmon, son of Donald McCrimmon and a piper like his father for the Clan McLaren. He had left his native Highlands for an uncertain path through time and space and now acknowledged a Time Lord as his laird. However, none of that changed the tenets of fidelity, courage and fortitude that governed his life. Thus, the piper was angry that the Doctor thought that he would leave him behind.
The Scot took a deep breath and crept back down into the corridors. His anger had only lasted a moment because Jamie knew that the Doctor's instructions were borne out of affection and concern for him and were not meant as a slight on his character. For all his care and protectiveness of the lives of others, the Doctor had distressingly little regard for his own life and wellbeing. It was a fault in his personality that Jamie had known about for a long time and was one of the reasons why the piper believed that it was vital that someone look after the Doctor.
Right now, that someone was him and Jamie refused to shirk his duty, no matter how dangerous it tended to to be.
As he stealthily weaved down the hallways, Jamie heard some of the Knights refer to their leader completing some sort of task as part of their plan. He continued to hear snatches of conversation and barked orders about the leader from other Knights. Jamie suspected that their plan had something to do with the Doctor, so he followed them and listened closely until one of them finally mentioned where their leader had gone. Then Jamie sneaked away in the general direction that the Knight had stated, unsure of where he needed to go until the moment when he heard the distant sound of Doctor's voice shouting at someone.
Jamie grimaced and headed off toward that voice. Eventually, he found a room with a pair of Knights guarding it. Certain that he had found the Doctor, Jamie began to look for a way in. He swiftly decided that the main doorway was not an option and went to search for another entrance. Unfortunately, there didn't appear to be one which momentarily left the Scot frustrated and at a loss over what he should do next. He glanced upward and saw a grate in the wall high above him. Jamie climbed onto a narrow metal cage and slowly rose up to peer into the room.
What he saw there would haunt him for the rest of his life.
His eyes were immediately drawn toward a tall, glass chamber with a light blue glow pulsating inside it. In the center of the tube was a person whose face and limbs were contorted with agony and Jamie was horrified to discover that it was the Doctor.
"Doctor!" he cried out, his voice a hoarse whisper. Jamie didn't know what this tube was for or what it was doing, but it was clear to him that, whatever it was, it was killing the Doctor.
Jamie yanked his dirk out of his boot and stabbed it against the grate. The rational part of his mind quickly realized that it was futile, but that wasn't enough to stop his hands from continuing to shove the blade into the edges.
Another soundless scream erupted from the Doctor's lips, and Jamie felt his heart break apart into so many tiny shards.
'Doctor!'
"Doctor!"
Jamie's eyes flew open and he breathed heavily through the fabric of his blankets. Ever since he had hidden himself away in the station's inner workings, he had made sure to make as little noise as possible. That meant no talking to himself, no songs to soothe his nerves, and no tears lest he lose control and his tears turn into loud sobs. He had even learned to press his face into the crook of his arm or the blankets he was wrapped in before going to sleep because sleep often meant dreams and dreams always meant going back to that moment when he saw the Doctor die. Thus, he needed to make sure to muffle the screams that would accompany him upon waking.
"…you must not let them catch you."
The piper took a couple more deep breaths before rubbing his eyes and sitting up. He rifled through the folds of the blanket he had laid onto the platform. He hadn't eaten since arriving at the station and he ran out of water a while ago. Jamie knew that he would have to leave his hiding place to search for food and water, but he was reluctant to move.
Especially after what had happened before.
After hours and hours of silence, Jamie ventured back out into the rest of the station. It was dark, the air filled with the stench of death and decay, but Jamie continued to keep an eye out for any other survivors and for provisions that could keep him alive while he waited for a rescue party.
The first room he walked into was one of the maintenance staff's quarters. There was even less light here and the floor was sticky. Jamie gulped when he realized that he was stepping in pools of drying blood, He shifted his focus back onto looking for supplies and pressed on. He managed to find a pair of old blankets, a jacket, and some packets of water. The Scot bundled it all up into a ball and stepped back into the hallway.
The moment he did, a cold metallic voice echoed all around him.
"Return to your ship and leave."
Jamie rushed over to hide up against the wall. He had thought that the Knights had left and now wondered if he had been wrong.
"Return to your ship and leave."
The piper shook and clutched at his bundle. The way the voice kept repeating the same thing over and over made him suspect that it was artificial. While Jamie found some relief in the fact that the Knights were no longer around, he did worry about what would happen if that voice wasn't happy with his lack of a response.
"Switching to defense alert."
Jamie felt his breathing quicken. He didn't know for sure what that meant, but he was certain that it was nothing good. He ran down the corridor back toward the vent he had come from. He felt the air around him grow frigid and found it increasingly hard to breathe. His heart raced as he dashed away while his head spun. In his haste, he tripped over a corpse which sent him sprawling onto the floor. Panicked, he shoved himself away from the cold, stiff form and scrambled back up to his feet.
Once he had made it back to the vent, he shoved his bundle in first and jumped in behind it, gasping for air. Then he grabbed his things and crawled and climbed his way through the maze of ladders, steps and platforms. Eventually, Jamie returned to where he had been hiding and promptly collapsed, shaking from fear and exhaustion. After a few minutes of lying still so he could recover, he realized that it was warmer now and easier to breathe. Whatever it was that had tried to suffocate him had not been able to find him here.
Jamie sat up and unwrapped his bundle. He was relieved to see that all the packets of water were still intact. He picked one of them up and tore it open, greedily gulping down the liquid inside. He wanted more and had drunk down another packet of water before forcing himself to hold back. He didn't know how long it would be before he could get more water, so it was important to make his supply last.
The Scot moved his water to the side and situated his blankets into a makeshift bed. Then he tucked the other packets away into one of the folds and laid down, pulling the other blanket over his head. He closed his eyes and shoved a corner of his blanket against his mouth.
There was still something in the station, something that had tried to kill him. From this point on, Jamie would stay where he was, silent and hidden away until it gave up and left him alone.
Jamie stared at the used water packets and frowned. He had tried to hold out as long as possible with the supplies he had, but they had not been enough. He thought about how he used to grumble to the Doctor about their 'one-meal-a-day' eating schedule, and the thought of it made his stomach ache. However, it also occurred to him that that regimen had made it easier for him to live without food for prolonged periods of time. Hunger pangs were nothing he couldn't handle. He had learned to ignore them.
He was aware, though that he could not go without nourishment forever. While he had adjusted to the constant, empty feeling in his stomach, recently he had felt increasingly light-headed and disoriented. He had managed to stave it off some by drinking more, but that had drained his water supply. Now, he had to deal with both hunger and an increasing thirst, and he knew that he couldn't last much longer like this.
The piper pulled the jacket he had found around his shoulders and onto his head.
The coat was ill-fitting, but wearing it this way helped some with the persistent chill that Jamie could not shake.
He had thought about his last attempt to search the station many times and had formulated some ideas about how to move around without being noticed. This time, he would stay in the shafts and vents as much as possible and only stay in room for short periods of time. Whatever had taken the air and heat away from him before did not seem to be able to follow him into the vents. Thus, this seemed like a good plan to avoid detection.
Jamie's insides quaked and he tried to take some deep breaths to calm himself. Even with his strategy worked out, he still did not want to wander out into the station again. While he might be able to evade the Voice controlling the station's environment, he would still be confronted with the sights and smells of the aftermath of a massacre, a massacre that reminded him too much of Culloden.
'No quarter. That's what those Redcoats shouted to each other while they murdered everyone,' he mused bitterly. 'Aye, and that's jes what happened here. No quarter. No reason to show any mercy. And don' show any decency in the killin'. Jes keep on murderin' 'til there's no one left.'
Jamie swallowed hard. Traveling with the Doctor the way he did made it difficult to know how many years had passed since he had escaped that battlefield. But Jamie knew that no amount of time could ever erase the memory of watching his family, friends, and fellow clan members die all around him. The scent of blood in the corridors and the bodies strewn about were sure to take him back to that day.
"Do what you must to stay alive."
Jamie blinked several times and scrubbed the back of his hand across watery eyes. The Doctor's last instructions continued to resonate within him. By now, they existed more as impressions that were deeply entrenched in his mind than actual words. He could try not to think about them, but he could not escape them.
The piper closed his eyes for a moment before finally getting up. He crept along the metal lattices carefully while making sure to catalog every twist and turn he made as best he could. Then Jamie hoisted himself into the ventilation shafts and squirmed through them, taking the time to pause by every grate so he could see where he was within the station.
Soon, Jamie was able to find the kitchen where he and the Doctor had first landed in the TARDIS. The stink of rot was even stronger here, but that was to be expected. Jamie tried to breathe through his mouth as much as possible. It helped. If only a little bit.
Jamie worked his way downward until he found a duct opening that was close to the floor. He pried the cover off and gingerly climbed into the room. He looked around and spied the bare space in the corner where the TARDIS had materialized.
His throat tightened as Jamie walked over to that spot. He lowered himself to kneel on the floor and leaned forward, running his hands over the ground. He squeezed his eyes shut and prayed. He begged anyone who could listen to help him wake up from this nightmare and for the TARDIS to reappear with the Doctor inside, alive and well. Lost in a rush of memories, he could see the Doctor's warm smile and hear him gently chiding him for some reason or another. For a moment, Jamie could swear that he felt a pair of hands patting his shoulders, reassuring him that he was safe and that everything would be fine.
Then he opened his eyes and was returned to the bleak landscape of darkness and death. Jamie's breathing hitched. He thought that he would break down then and there.
"…you must not let them catch you."
'No…No I cannae…If I stay here tae long that…that Voice…will find me here.'
Jamie stood back up and stumbled before regaining his footing and beginning his search. Most of the food was rancid, but he did find a few pieces of what looked like fruit that seemed as if they might be edible. Jamie took off his jacket and turned it into a basket to carry the produce. He found some canisters of water and stuffed those into the impromptu sack as well. Lastly, he discovered a platter with some scraps of meat that had apparently been smoked. He hesitated, unsure if he could bring himself to eat any flesh while he was trapped with all those corpses, but eventually tucked away what was left into his bag.
Confident that he had found most of what could be salvaged, Jamie knotted the jacket up and climbed back into the vents. He took several wrong turns on his way back and was scared that he might not make it back to his hiding place. However, the piper fought against his fear and was able to regain his bearings over time. After what felt like another two hours of searching, he found the platform he had been living on and laid down to rest for a few minutes. Then he opened his jacket up and surveyed its contents.
It was easy for him to grab one of the canisters and drink several mouthfuls of water, his thirst having become unbearable. He was less sure, however, about how palpable the food would be.
Jamie's stomach rumbled loudly and it encouraged him to at least sample his finds. He eyed one of the scraps of meat for a minute before picking it up. He nibbled at it, and upon finding it suitable to eat, wolfed the rest of it down. It was when he started to gnaw at the bone that Jamie finally realized just how hungry he had been.
Suddenly, a memory of the aroma of decay sprung into his brain, and his stomach churned. Jamie tasted bile at the back of his throat. He leaned over the side and vomited, emptying his stomach of everything he had just eaten. Once he was finished, Jamie groaned and fell back onto his side, clutching his belly.
'I…I cannae….I cannae eat this.'
Jamie stared at the rest of the food he had gathered. He was tempted to throw it all away and go back to not eating.
"Do what you must to stay alive."
Jamie hiccupped. He just wanted to close his eyes and never reopen them. But that was something he could not do. The Doctor had wanted him to survive, and Jamie was determined to honor his last wish.
It was the least he could do given how he had failed in so many other ways.
The piper rubbed his stomach a few times and studied the produce. Despite what had just happened, he was pretty sure that the food he had found was safe to eat. It was just a matter of getting used to eating it.
Jamie decided that perhaps he should try one of the fruits this time. He picked up a dark red item and tentatively bit into the skin. It had a mild peppery flavor that he got used to in a couple more bites. He finished it in less than a minute, thankful that it had not upset his stomach. He forced himself to eat a little more of the meat and managed to keep it down too. Then he washed his meager meal down with some more water and stored the rest of it away in his blanket. He would have to ration his supplies carefully in order to make them last, and that meant severely limiting his intake.
Still, Jamie rationalized that it wouldn't be any worse than the hours he had already spent down here, starved and dehydrated. At least now he would be getting some nourishment once in a while. He pulled the food back out and arranged into portions that he could allocate to rough estimates of time.
After he was finished, Jamie hid the food away and laid back down, covering himself completely with one of the blankets. He thought again of the kitchen and the void where the TARDIS had been. He wondered if the other Time Lords were aware of what had happened.
And he wondered if they would even care.
Fresh tears filled his eyes, and this time, Jamie wasn't able to hold them back. His body shook, wracked with sobs, and it no longer mattered if he could be heard.
"Doctor," he wept, burying his face into the rough fabric. "Please… please don'….Ye…ye cannae…ye cannae be…."
Jamie let out strangled cry and beat the heel of his fist against the floor several times before covering his face with his palms. Darkness had enveloped him again, but now it was not so silent.
Now, Jamie McCrimmon had the sounds of his grief to be his constant.
