The Adventures of a Consulting Time Lord
By Soledad
Episode 01: Ginger, At Last! (But Still Rude)
Disclaimer: Both Dr. Who and Sherlock belong to the BBC. I'm just borrowing them to have some fun.
Author's note: This is as close to canon re: chameleon arch as research could bring me. Apologies if I'd got anything wrong. The only thing I changed was that by using a fully functional one a Time Lord could keep his memories. I needed that for Mycroft to be able to work as he does.
Chapter 09 – Becoming Sherlock
It took a couple of hours – not to mention an extensive data exchange between Mummy and the Doctor's TARDIS – but finally they were standing in the control room of said TARDIS, ready to begin. Ianto was holding the fob watch once again; Anthea was still correlating the last string of data, while the two Time Lords were looking up at the ceiling, from which some sort of helmet was descending.
Well, calling it a helmet would have been somewhat exaggerated. The structure consisted of three short, wide, bent metal bands, made of some silvery material, which ended in flat, round disks of the same metal. There were buttons on its top, arranged in a seemingly random pattern.
"That is?" Ianto asked in slight disappointment. "This… thing is going to rewrite every cell in your body to human?"
"Yep," the Doctor's exotic eyes, his only visibly alien feature, kept sliding to the device above his head as if he expected it to attack him any moment. "The chameleon arch. An amazing piece of Time Lord technology that can modify the biology of one species, so the cells register as another species. In essence, it allows the user to change their species, while their original biological information gets stored in a special device."
"You mean the fob watch," Ianto said. The Doctor nodded.
"Exactly. The watch itself is merely a disguise, of course, as it can't be opened once the transformation has been completed."
"Why?" Ianto asked. "What happens if you open it?"
"Then I'll revert to my true self," the Doctor explained. "Which is why it has a perception filter: to hide it from me, so that I wouldn't accidentally blow my cover. Seeing that you'll be the one to keep the watch, though, that's not very likely to happen," he shot Mycroft an annoyed look. "I thought you've explained it to him."
"He has," Ianto said before Mycroft could have answered, "but I wanted to hear it from you… knowing how much you like to repeat yourself."
"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" the Doctor scowled.
"Immensely," Ianto replied with a blank face. It was impossible to tell whether he truly meant it or not, but the Doctor would have bet that yes, he did. Very much so.
"You should get at it," Mycroft said before the verbal blows could have escalated. "Delaying it won't help with the… erm… unpleasant part, and you know it."
"You mean the transformation is painful?" Ianto asked, and there was a gleam in his eyes that both Time Lords found slightly disturbing.
"Oh yeah," Mycroft said with feeling. "It hurts. It hurts like a bitch; it changes us into something we were never meant to be, after all."
Ianto didn't seem to be impressed by that statement.
"Trust me sir, I know the feeling," he said dryly. "Coming back from the dead once was bad enough. Imagine what it was like for Jack during the Master's reign – going through that several hundred times," he glared at the Doctor accusingly. "He stopped sleeping entirely for the next year! He couldn't deal with the nightmares… and where were you when he needed you?"
"Ianto," Mycroft said sharply, a clear warning in his voice. "Try to be a little more sympathetic, would you?"
That look, that tone would have made battle-hardened generals quake in their boots. Ianto merely shrugged.
"Why should I, sir? How sympathetic was he to Jack's case?"
"That's neither here nor there, and you'd do better if you stopped dwelling over the past," Mycroft said sternly. "That won't help either of you; and you'll have to learn to tolerate each other. He'll live as my brother for quite some time; and I expect you to be at least civil with him. Especially as he won't remember the things you blame him for."
"Yes, sir," Ianto replied coldly. Mycroft sighed and shook his head.
"The two of you will be the death of mine. Give me that watch, Ianto."
Gritting his teeth, Ianto handed him the watch. Mycroft inserted it into the chameleon arch and pushed some buttons on the helmet.
"Programming complete," Anthea reported, consulting her Blackberry.
"All right," Mycroft said. "Let's do this, little brother. As they say on Raxacoricofallapatorius, the only way out is the way through. Come here."
He helped the Doctor to put the chameleon arch over his head, so that he three flat discs would connect with his temples and the centre of his forehead. Then he flicked the switch.
In the next moment, the Doctor let out a terrible, agonised scream. Mycroft winced in sympathy. He remembered all too well the horrible, burning sensation of every cell in his body being forcibly re-written. It had felt as if he'd been poured over with gasoline and set on fire; and if the twitching and writhing and howling of the Doctor was any indication, the side effects must have been similar.
It was extremely painful to watch the only other Time Lord known to exist give up his very being through excruciating agony. Especially as he seemed to be the only one affected by the Doctor's suffering. Anthea had no emotions whatsoever – she had a programming – and though Ianto had become stark white, his bleak expression revealed nothing.
Of course, the fact that he'd lived through the Battle of Canary Wharf probably had hardened him against such things. That, and having witnessed the hundreds of painful deaths of Jack Harkness, which the Master had broadcast all over the Earth during his reign. Hiding in the vaults of the Torchwood Hub, with its own time bubble – courtesy of the Rift – Ianto was one of the very few people who remembered… and still blamed the Doctor for what had happened, apparently.
Besides, the dead rarely had pity with the living.
Endless minutes passed with the Doctor shrieking and seizing in agony – and then, finally, it stopped.
"Is it over?" Ianto asked flatly. Mycroft nodded.
"You can remove the watch now. Just keep it safe. And closed; once it's opened, there will be no way to stop him reverting to his true self."
Ianto nodded in understanding and carefully plucked the watch from its socket atop the helmet. He ran his thumb over the etchings on the surface of the lid; the gossamer fine circular lines seemed to glow from within and the watch seemed heavier and warmer. He fastened it on its chain and put it into the pocket of his waistcoat. It was a strange thing, knowing that he was now the guardian of a Time Lord.
Mycroft, in the meantime, went to the Doctor to check on him.
"Sherlock?" he asked softy. "Can you hear me, brother?"
The Doctor – Sherlock – stared blankly ahead for another second before those strangely luminous eyes of his rolled back and he collapsed, landing on his bony knees rather painfully. Fortunately for him, he couldn't feel it, having passed out already. The chameleon arch slid off, swinging above him in a pendulum. The lights within the TARDIS died, leaving only a faint golden glow coming from the central column.
"She's switched to emergency power," Anthea reported. She consulted her Blackberry again. "Transformation's complete, sir. Only one heartbeat; physiology reads one hundred per cent human."
"Good," Mycroft said. "Let's take him to his room. He needs rest; and the TARDIS must go into sleeping mode until she's needed again. Anthea, if you'd do the honours."
The android slid her arms under Sherlock's knees and back and scooped him up like a child, carrying him off to his temporary quarters. Having a titanium spine did have its advantages; none of the two men could have done this alone.
Following her, Ianto turned back from the door for a moment. His amazed look fell at a tall fridge where a moment earlier the TARDIS had stood.
~TBC~
