END OF ARC. WOOHOO.
Hope everyone had a happy Christmas, or, if you don't celebrate Christmas, a good ol' holiday time. Or something. I spent my Christmas crying my eyes out, because MATT SMITH NOOOO.
I mean, Peter Capaldi is cool and all but MATT NOOOO
Before Hal could protest the seemingly small size of the TARDIS, Merlin opened the door and shoved him inside with little explanation. The ringleader stumbled into the spaceship and quickly righted himself, preparing to chastise the young warlock for his rough handling. Whatever words he may have said died on his lips the moment he looked at his surroundings; the tiny little blue box parked in the middle of the festival grounds was…
"Bigger on the inside," he breathed.
"Yeah; I said the same thing," replied Merlin, closing the door behind him.
"But- how is this possible?"
"Something about transcending dimensions. Not exactly sure what that means, but…"
Hal stopped gaping at the TARDIS's interior long enough to catch Merlin's worried expression.
"Hey, uh… The Doctor… Do you think he'll be alright?" he asked nervously. "I mean, Troy's a clever fellow…"
Merlin snorted. "The Doctor is ten times as clever. And ten times as rash. Which actually makes him rather dangerous."
Hal tilted his head to the side, observing Merlin curiously. "… Do you two get into trouble like this often?"
"Well, as far as I know, he always does. On my side, it's like the trouble finds me."
Merlin walked past Hal, up the stairs to the console, staring down at the strange array of buttons and gadgets. He heaved a deep sigh. His fingers twitched anxiously as he gripped the sides of the control panel, his mind racing. He'd taken Hal to the TARDIS, as the Doctor asked. Surely now he could go back and help his friend? No, the Doctor had certainly meant for Merlin to stay there, safe in the blue box.
But why? He was sure the Doctor trusted him… So there had to be some other motive behind sending Merlin back to the TARDIS.
"Uh, Merlin?" Hal interrupted his thoughts. "What's that in your pocket?"
"Hm?"
Glancing down, the warlock found a small black corner poking out of his leather jacket's pocket. He cautiously took it out, revealing the Doctor's psychic paper he'd showed him earlier. "How did…" he began to ask, but then remembered the Doctor placing a hand on his shoulder as he told him to go to the TARDIS; he must have slipped it in then. He opened it, not sure of what to expect.
Lined in neat script he guessed was meant to be the Timelord's handwriting, were instructions.
Go to Medical Bay, it ordered, await further directions.
He'd read it out loud to Hal, and the ringleader blinked.
"There's a Med Bay here?"
"Well, he is called the Doctor..."
"Where is it?"
"I'm not sure," Merlin frowned. Then, as if responding to the unspoken question, the words erased themselves and new writing formed on the paper.
Left hallway, three rooms down, there's a label next to the door. Off you pop.
Merlin fought the urge to roll his eyes, instead turning to Hal Monsoon. "Let's go."
"So, Mr. Triton, how exactly did you get a life-force transferor? I imagine illegally," the Doctor quipped conversationally, and Troy Triton grinned smugly.
"Oh, quite so. But I don't have to reveal my methods to you, Doctor."
"Didn't think you would. By the way, where are your burly friends? I wanted to thank them for their hospitality." His words were laced with jovial sarcasm.
Troy grinned wickedly. "I no longer required their services- after they tossed you and your friend away, I showed them to their own, specially reserved cages. Far back there," he nodded to the far side of the tent, where the larger cages stood.
The Doctor made a disgusted face, but only for a split second. His typical happy expression quickly returned. "A shame. Well then, that makes this plan of your all the more intriguing. Why not tell me about it? Especially if you're going to kill me anyways."
"I don't think so."
"Why?" The Doctor pouted. "Who am I going to tell?"
Troy narrowed his eyes. "You have that friend of yours- Merlin. He could report me."
At this, the Doctor laughed. "Well, if you were concerned about that, you missed your chance to stop him! And you know what that tells me, Troy?" The Doctor pushed himself off of his makeshift seat and walked closer to Troy, who held up his hand in a defensive stance. "That tells me that you don't really care about getting caught. You just want to use the machine. Oh, I get it, yeah, it's all for your brother."
The magician before him inhaled sharply, and the smug look was finally off his face, replaced with a fierce glare. The Doctor didn't let him voice that anger, however, and merely pressed on.
"Hal mentioned he was pretty sick- but sick enough to warrant all this?" He gestured to all the cages around them, and more importantly, the entrapped victims.
It was quiet for a moment before Troy answered. "Advanced Atelectasis Atrophy. We found out about it too late for surgery." He chuckled solemnly. "Not that we had the money for it."
"I'm sorry." The Doctor gave him a pitying look, all the while focusing his mind on sending a message to a certain warlock in a certain blue box.
"He's twelve," Troy continued. "He shouldn't have even been at risk for it. The doctors couldn't find a cause, and when they found it was too late for a cure, do you know what they said? 'I'm sorry.' Sorry. Like saying that will get my brother help!" He was slowly growing angrier, and the palm of his hand began glowing blue, presumably charging its power. The Doctor took a step back, but kept his eyes on Troy.
"You can't blame them, Troy. The technology in this era hasn't found a cure for Double A Atrophy. These things happen."
"Yes, I know that much. But like you said earlier, Doctor, it's the most basic desire of all- keeping your loved ones safe." The blue glow faded from his hand, which relieved the Doctor. "So I quit my job with Hal- there was nothing he could do to help Gian- and I set off, trying to find a way to fix my brother."
"Which is when you found out about…" the Timelord nodded his head to the machine.
Troy nodded, staring at the machine with longing. "A man heard about my troubles and offered to sell it to me- he'd bought it off of some black market dealer, but he thought it would have better use with me."
"And so you bought the transferor, set up this grand scheme of attracting customers to kidnap, and used them to heal your brother," concluded the Doctor. "But, what about Dea Halto, and the rest of Hal's old employees? Why did you need them?"
Troy smiled weakly. "If there was anything Hal was good for, it was picking talent. I needed the best of the best to work in my show, even if it meant using a mind control injection or two."
"Hmm. And all these 'volunteers' of yours? Why do you need so many?"
"The machine was only half-operational when I bought it. So I needed twice as many people to get the desired results." The magician's expression turned manic, bordering on hysterical. "I'm so close, Doctor! Gian will be all better, and he can live normally again!"
"But at the cost of all these people," said the Doctor sadly. "And you will get caught, Troy, I'm sorry."
He shook his head. "No, that doesn't matter. As long as he's healed first, I don't care if I rot in prison or even get executed. But it can't happen before he's better!"
"What if you didn't have to, Troy? What if there was another way?"
"There is no other way- I've tried everything."
The Doctor smiled. "I doubt you had my resources. See, Troy, I'm a time traveler." The other man scoffed, so he elaborated. "No, really! And in the future, the distant future, they do find a cure for your brother's disease."
Troy's eyes went wide, but he quickly masked his shock with suspicion. "You're lying."
"You have to trust me on this, alright? Let me give you the cure in exchange for you stopping all this. No one will die, Gian will be cured, and maybe, just maybe, you can actually be with him instead of rotting in a cell."
For a moment, it seemed as though Troy was seriously considering his offer. But he shook his head and leveled the Doctor with a saddened glare. "Oh, Doctor. You don't know the first thing about us magicians, do you?"
"What do you mean?"
"You don't back out of the act before it's done." Without further preamble, Troy raised his glowing hand upwards. The Doctor closed his eyes tightly, expecting the painful blast.
The moment the blue shock of energy propelled itself out of Troy's hand, Merlin and Hal came running in.
Still in the TARDIS, Merlin navigated the halls with relative ease and determination, though Hal was not so coordinated. The ringleader grew more and more distressed once he saw how truly large the time machine was on the inside, but Merlin had no time to explain the finer mechanics of the ship. Partly because he didn't quite know the details himself, and partly because they were hurrying along as fast as they could.
They passed the door reading "Medical Bay", and ran inside. The space was a sterile white, walls lined with strange bottles and devices. There were textbooks about diseases and health manuals strewn about, and despite its futuristic look, Merlin found that it reminded him quite a lot of Gaius's workspace.
As the door automatically closed behind them, Merlin again took out the psychic paper, hoping for the best. The Doctor didn't disappoint.
Once you're there, go the third shelf of bottles on the back wall. Look for one labeled 'Double A Atrophy'- it should be blue. Bring it back to the tent.
Hurry.
It was almost as if Merlin could detect the urgency in that last word, so he shoved the paper back in his pocket and raced to the back wall. They could see the bottle already, for it was the only blue one up there. Unfortunately, the third shelf was too far up for either Merlin or Hal to simply reach up and grab what they need. They could see the bottle already, for it was the only blue one up there.
"Is there a ladder around here somewhere?" asked Hal, looking around, but Merlin raised his hands towards the bottle and chanted softly.
"Ampelle, folge min bebod!"
His eyes turned gold, startling Hal, and the bottle gently lifted itself off the shelf and into Merlin's waiting grasp. The warlock sighed, pleased. Then he caught Hal's stare.
"Damn, kid," the ringleader breathed. "I really gotta know where you buy your equipment."
Merlin grinned in reply, clutching the bottle securely, and together, they ran out of the expansive spaceship. The warlock made a beeline for Triton's show, noting the odd absence of any guards, and weaved his way around the tents until he found the one housing the disturbing machine. Hal, slightly out of breath, followed the teenager inside.
At the exact moment the two of them stumbled into the tent, they saw Troy's palm raised, aiming at the Doctor, who defiantly stood his ground. A blue blast shot out of his hand, and before Hal could stop him, Merlin ran at full speed towards the Doctor.
"Doctor!" He shouted, spurring both Troy and the Timelord to look at him with shock. The Doctor raised his hand, as if to tell him to stop, but Merlin was already in front of him when the blast struck.
He had expected pain, maybe even death- or at least to be knocked back, like Hal was before. Instead, he felt nothing; he could hear a faint hum, and he couldn't see anything, for he had closed his eyes, waiting for the impact that never came. Slowly, he opened one eye, surveying the area.
Troy stared at the young warlock in shock, though to Merlin, his face was obscured by a strange force, distorting Troy's features, like looking at someone through shifting water. He heard an exhale behind him, and he turned to face the Doctor. The Timelord grinned at Merlin, nodding his approval.
"What…?" Merlin began to ask, but a distinct crackling noise caused him to look downwards to its source.
The silver etchings engraved in the Kuborian bracelet resting on Merlin's wrist glowed like a pulse, each palpitation causing the force field surrounding him to shift and churn. The glow soon faded, and the field disappeared, leaving three stunned spectators- plus the Doctor- in its wake.
"Good ol' Ruvator, eh?" whispered the Doctor, so only Merlin could hear. The warlock suddenly recalled the old Kuborian's words…
"Stops energy and metallic-based weapons… Energy." Realization dawned upon him; the bracelet had stopped Troy's attack.
"I imagine that energy's being dispersed safely throughout the atmosphere by now," the Doctor mused, walking around Merlin with a wink. "The cure, Merlin, if you'd please." He held his hand out, and without another word, Merlin deposited the bottle to his grip.
The Doctor held up the bottle and waved it tantalizingly in front of Troy, who observed it cautiously.
"The cure for Double A Atrophy, otherwise known as Advanced Atelectasis Atrophy, discovered in the 62nd century by Dr. Howard Harp-… Oh, well, I suppose you don't care about his name. He's not even born yet, funnily enough. Time travel, I always forget…" He clicked his tongue to stop himself. "Anyway, here you go."
Troy was wide-eyed, but he didn't move forward. "… How do I know this isn't a trick? How do I know that's real?"
"Shut off the machine and you can find out. Please," implored the Doctor.
"I have no reason to trust you! You could be the police, or- or black marketers trying to reclaim the machine-!" He bellowed angrily.
"Troy!" Hal shouted. "Just stop this!"
He turned, an angry scowl marring his face. Hal had an equally furious expression.
"You have nothing to do with this, Monsoon," Troy hissed.
"You're my friend, Troy. And I care about Gian too. I wanted to help you earn money, I really did, but you just left without even talking to me or the others." Hal sighed. "The Doctor and Merlin are good people- they're not liars. Just stop this, and they'll help you. You and Gian can go back to the way things were."
Troy shook his head. "It's too late for that; I've already used the machine, and either way, I'll be sent to jail."
"Then don't you want Gian to know you at least tried to do the right thing?"
He was quiet. Looking from Hal, to the Doctor and Merlin, and finally to the machine, where his brother lay inside, Troy began to tear up.
"… Fine," he whispered. "Fine."
With a sharp turn, he ran to the machine, the trio right behind him. He pulled a couple of levers and slammed his palm down on a large button. The glow emanating from the machine stopped, dulling till it was extinguished. A panel suddenly opened, from the center of the machine, revealing the figure of a young boy, easily thirteen. His thin, almost emaciated body was hooked up to the machine with various wires and patches connected to his skin.
"Good God," Hal murmured. Troy looked away, feeling guilty.
"I did what I had to," Troy defended, though his voice lacked the determined edge it had earlier.
"Of course you did- but now you don't need it anymore." The Doctor held up the bottle again. "So let's get him out of there."
The police were notified within the hour, but Troy Triton had a smile on his face as he was hauled away. Far off to the side, surrounded by collapsing tents, confused victims, and shouting policemen, stood the Doctor, Merlin, and Hal Monsoon, the latter holding his hand on the shoulder of Gian Triton. The boy was pale, though he kept his stance, and it would appear to anyone that there was never anything wrong with him.
Gian tilted his head upwards to face the Doctor. "Where are they taking Troy?"
The Doctor smiled down at the young boy, though it was reciprocated with a curious frown. "Top-facility prison, probably on an outer planet. Don't worry though, since no one died while he was operating the machine, he could get away with parole. If he's good."
"With Gian here waiting for him, I'm sure he'll be on his best behavior," Hal said, patting Gian on the shoulder. "In the meantime, I don't suppose you'd mind living with me, tough guy?"
Gian beamed up at him. "I'd love that, Uncle Hal!"
The ringleader made a face at being called 'uncle', but found it in his heart not to correct the young lad. Merlin and the Doctor shared a smile.
"Well, we'd best pop off then," the Doctor announced, nodding his head towards the awaiting TARDIS. "Places to be, people to see, all that jazz."
"Are you sure?" Hal tilted his head. "I could really use somebody like Merlin in my show, you know."
Merlin laughed nervously and shook his head. "Thank you for the offer, but I've already got a job."
"And he utilizes his skills quite enough there," added the Doctor.
"Oh, that's a shame. Your employer must be lucky, then." Hal offered Merlin a hand, which the latter shook.
"If only he knew," Merlin muttered, but when Hal gave him a curious look, he merely smiled. "Anyway, good luck to you, Hal."
"And to you two as well, with… whatever it is you do."
The Doctor mock-saluted, and he, with Merlin in tow, walked back to the TARDIS. Hal and Gian waved goodbye, before turning back themselves to observe the rest of the operation. They didn't see the travelers step into the machine, nor did they see the strange box fade from the scenery, making its distinctive groaning sound. And just like that, they were gone.
Merlin stepped out of the blue box, expecting to see Gaius poring over an old tome, or perhaps brewing some foul-smelling potion for a patient. He did not expect to find the Lady Morgana standing in the center of the physician's chambers, looking extremely shocked, and more importantly, in her nightgown. That is to say, it wasn't important to Merlin that Morgana specifically was in a rather racy selection of clothing, but that she was wearing her nightclothes at all. If he remembered right, it was barely the afternoon when he and the Doctor left.
"Morgana!" he shouted, voice cracking, which added to the blush on his cheeks. The Lady herself blinked a few times, opening and closing her mouth, before Merlin remembered she had never seen the TARDIS materialize before. The Doctor poked his head out, catching sight of her.
"Oh! My Lady, how are you?" he grinned, which appeared to relax her slightly.
"I, just… Well, I was going to see if Merlin was back yet…" she smiled timidly.
"How long was I gone?" Merlin asked, shooting a glance at the Timelord, who shrugged, as though he wasn't as concerned.
"Almost the entire afternoon." Morgana bit her lip. "And, well, Arthur apparently needed you for something, but he couldn't find you…"
"Morgana," Merlin said gravely, "please tell me 'the tavern' is not in any way related to all this."
"Well, it wasn't me! He asked Gaius where you were, and…" she said, exasperated, and the warlock groaned.
"Fantastic."
But Morgana wasn't finished. "… And I sort of made him tell Arthur that you were sent to collect herbs instead?" She rushed the end of her sentence in one breath. Both Merlin and the Doctor stared at her, bewildered.
"You… did?" asked Merlin.
"Well, I couldn't just let him keep thinking you were a drunkard! I had to do something!" She crossed her arms with a regal huff. "So, if Arthur asks, you were collecting herbs in the forest until late at night. Understand?"
"I…" A smile broke onto Merlin's face. "Yes, My Lady! And thank you!"
She allowed herself to smile back. "You're very welcome."
The Doctor, looking between the two of them, smirked.
"Shall I leave you two alone, then?" he asked, suggestively raising a brow. The teenagers immediately turned red, causing the Doctor's smirk to widen.
"Just get back in your box, Doctor," muttered Merlin.
"Okay, okay," he held up his hands, backing away from the two into his TARDIS. "See you later, then… love bird."
Before either of them could yell at him for the moniker, the Doctor disappeared behind the blue wooden door, and seconds later, the man and his box vanished.
Merlin looked back, rather shyly, to Morgana.
"So, erm… thank you again, for covering for me…"
"It was no problem," she replied curtly, avoiding his eyes. "I should, uh, retire now. Gwen and I are going somewhere tomorrow."
He smiled lightly. "May I ask where?"
She met his gaze and returned the smile. "I'm going to visit my father's resting place. It's been such a long while, and doing so always makes me feel better."
"I hope you have a safe journey, then, My Lady."
Morgana curtsied, a teasing look on her face. "Thank you, Merlin. And goodnight, as well."
"Goodnight."
She left, leaving the young warlock alone in Gaius's chambers. He sighed contentedly, feeling the strange fluttering sensation leave his stomach. He then moved to ready himself for bed, shrugging off his jacket, but stopping halfway.
The Doctor's psychic paper was still tucked safely inside his pocket. With a half-smile, Merlin took the paper and opened it, expecting to see the note from earlier still inscribed. Instead, he was met with a new message entirely.
Did you kiss her?
Merlin dropped it with a start. Positive the Timelord was laughing at him from wherever he was in the universe, he picked it up and crammed it back into his pocket with a scowl.
First Arthur, now the Doctor. Why did his friends like to embarrass him so much?
WEEEEELLL. That happened.
Next Time: It's a certain young warlock's birthday, and the Doctor wants everything to be perfect. And, to his delight, the Lady Morgana wants to help. Unfortunately, another impetuous female joins the festivities, and the familiar routine begins again.