Chapter 10

Martha slipped into the infirmary in the late evening, pulling off her maid's cap with a sigh. Rose lay on the bed, the slow rise and fall of her chest the only movement she made. It'd been four days now since John Smith had brought her back, and there hadn't been any change since. Matron Redfern had no idea what was wrong with her—granted, she didn't say that herself, but Martha had been around enough medical professionals to know when 'let her rest' meant 'I don't know'. Mickey had called to let her know that he couldn't contact the parallel world anymore, so that was out, as well.

Martha sat in the rickety chair next to Rose's bed and slouched down, resting her head on her propped-up arm. "Come on, Rose. You've got to wake up." She groaned and rubbed a hand over her face, wiping roughly at her eyes. "What else would he come back for?"

There was a creak at the doorway and she looked up to see a small blond boy standing there, his blue eyes wide. He had a hand in one pocket, and he clenched it convulsively. Martha drew her eyebrows together. Latimer, that was it. He'd been Rose's most faithful visitor over the last few days, always sitting with her when he didn't have class. Martha's hand tightened on her heavy skirt. It was more than John Smith was doing—he hadn't been to visit Rose since he first carried her in.

The boy cleared his throat, his voice low in the dim light of the room. "Sorry to intrude, miss."

Martha blinked and raised her eyebrows. "No need to apologize, Mr. Latimer. There's another chair here. I was just keeping her company."

"Good." He looked down and flushed. "It's good somebody's here." He walked over hesitatingly and sat down next to her, his right hand still deep in his pocket. He swallowed. "Is she going to be all right?"

Martha sighed again and leaned back in her chair, staring at the ceiling. "I don't know. Her vitals are good, but she just… won't wake up." The silence between them was heavy, both of their attentions focused on the still figure on the bed. Tim's hand tightened, and a small click came from his pocket.

Rose suddenly arched on the bed, her back clenching in a vicious spasm. Golden light exhaled from her open mouth as Martha jumped up, her years of training setting her to restraining Rose's seizing body before she could even think. Tim blanched and pulled his hand out of his pocket, jumping up to stand beside her. "What is it? What's happened?"

After a few minutes Rose collapsed back onto the bed, her body gone abruptly loose. Her eyes were still closed, and she seemed to be just as unconscious as she had been before. Martha checked her pulse and paled. "Something's gone wrong with her heart." Her eyes widened as she held her fingers against Rose's throat, and she darted over to the Matron's desk and pulled out her stethoscope. She hurried back and tested Rose's heartbeat, holding it gently to the left side of her chest. With trembling fingers, she shifted the old-fashioned stethoscope over to the right. After a long moment she sat back down, staring into nothing. "Oh, my god."

Tim frowned. "What happened?"

The door opened and John Smith entered hurriedly, his hair disheveled and his bow tie loose. There were heavy shadows under his eyes, and Martha frowned as she noticed the uneven stubble showing on his jaw. The Doctor wasn't the neatest person in the world, but John Smith was immaculate in his grooming—him looking this rough wasn't a good sign. He stopped at the foot of Rose's bed, his eyes tracing over her face anxiously. "She's still asleep?"

Martha raised an eyebrow at him, not bothering to get up from her chair. "Has been for four days. Not that you'd know." The latter sentence was spoken quietly, barely even a whisper, but John sent Martha a look of irritation and …guilt?

He cleared his throat. "Has she been asleep this whole time? I could've sworn, a moment ago…" He shook his head and ran a hand hastily through his head. "No, never mind. It's mad. This whole bloody thing is mad."

Martha glanced at Tim, unsure of what to do about the Doctor's—no, John Smith's—swearing, but Tim was staring at the schoolteacher with wide eyes. "It's you."

John blinked and lowered his hand from his hair, his eyebrows furrowing. "What are you talking about?"

"You're him. The Doctor. I couldn't see it at first, couldn't see anything but her… but it's you." He reached into his pocket and pulled out an elegantly etched fob watch, his pale hand trembling very slightly.

Martha gasped and covered her mouth with her hand, staring at the proffered watch. So that's where it went.

John Smith stared down at it, confused and more than a little frightened. "But that's insane. The Doctor's just a dream, nothing real. And that's just a fob watch."

"It's not." John turned to stare at Martha, his dark brown eyes wide and pleading. She swallowed and continued. "You an' I, we showed up here together, right?"

"Of course we did—you've been with my family for years, Martha." He started to back away from the bed but Rose shifted toward him, a faint sound of protest slipping out of her lips. He stepped closer to her immediately, almost helplessly.

Martha shook her head slowly. "If that's true, then tell me this: what was your mother's name? Your father's?"

"It was… it was… " John's hand reached out to grab Rose's even as he stared wildly at Martha. "This is madness. Why am I listening to this?" He looked down at Rose's hand, wrapped in his own, and dropped it as if it scalded him.

Martha watched him carefully. "My parent's names are Clive and Francine Jones. My older sister's name is Tish—she works in public relations—and my younger brother's name is Leo. He and his girlfriend have a little girl together, Keisha. She's terribly spoiled, but we all love her. You and I? We only met a few months ago, when the hospital I work for got teleported to the moon." She smiled nervously. "We had to deal with a platoon of Judoon on the moon, remember?"

He shook his head emphatically, running a hand through his hair. "No. No, this is mad. Martha, you've been traumatized somehow—you've worked for my family for years."

"No, I haven't. A few years ago, I'd never met you, an' I was just starting my medical training." She sighed and held up her hand. "Look: bones of the hand. Carpal bones, proximal row: scaphoid, lunate, triquetral, pisiform. Distal row: trapezium, trapezoid, capitate, hamate. Then the metacarpal bones extending in three distinct phalanges: proximal, middle, distal. "

He stumbled back towards the door and Martha stood, her voice going higher with nerves. "Don't you what's really going on? Who you really are? Don't you want to know what happened the other night, out in the field?"

"It was a hallucination, it had to be."

Tim's voice broke in, steady and distant. His eyes were glued to the watch in his hand. "The Wolf howled."

Martha stared at the boy, confused. "Wait, how do you know about that?"

John paused before shutting the door, leaning against it and watching Martha warily. "I could ask the same of you."

She remembered with a jolt that he'd never actually seen her, that night in Copper's Field. She swallowed. "You've dreamt of me before, though. That we travelled together."

His eyebrows drew down, and he crossed his arms nervously. "That… those were just dreams." His eyes narrowed. "Wait, did you find my journal?"

"Those weren't just dreams—they happened. Shakespeare? We had to save 'im from the witches, the Carrionites. We went to New Earth together, an' I got kidnapped by some carpoolers. My sister Tish invited us to Professor Lazarus' party, an' we had to save the day when he turned into that scorpion thing." John back up against the door, reaching for the knob, and Martha tightened her jaw and gestured at Rose. "D'you want to know why she seemed so familiar? It's 'cause she loves you, the real you, and you've been in love with her since before I met you."

"So all of this is a lie? Everything that I am? This life, it's just a joke—you expect me to go back to a life of chaos and pain and endless loneliness?"

"It's not all chaos, though! There's so much beauty out there, so much joy—an' you showed me that. An' yeah, you were lonely when I met you. But that's not true any more." Martha beckoned him closer and groaned when he ignored her. "Oh, just come on. I'm not going to bite you." John stepped forward warily, and she gestured at Rose. "Check her pulse."

He reached out a hand and rested long fingers against her throat. After a moment, he paled and looked up at Martha, his eyes wide. "There's something wrong with her heart."

"Nah, her heart's just fine." She paused. "Both of them."

He jerked back, his gaze darting between Martha and Tim. His voice was hoarse when he spoke. "Why do this? Why do you care?"

Tim looked up from the watch, his blue eyes hazy. "The Doctor is the fulcrum of the universe. Without him, the balance would fall to chaos."

Martha swallowed. "The universe needs him. And he… he needs Rose."

There was a long silence as John looked at Rose. His hand had taken hers again, and he swallowed and tightened his grip. He glanced up at Tim and Martha and reached out his other hand for the watch, his freckles standing out like stains against his paper-white skin. Tim dropped in into his hand and stepped back, his eyes clearing. John turned back to Rose and spoke quietly. "Can you give us the room?"

Martha rested a hand on Tim's shoulder and steered him out the room, glancing behind her once more before closing the door quietly on them.

John stared at Rose—the long lashes that brushed her cheeks, the lips that were slightly parted as she slept. A small, half-formed smile tugged at his mouth. "Well, if it's my last chance…"

At that, he leaned down and brushed his lips against hers, his eyes clenched tight. A golden glow shone between them, and as he reluctantly lifted his head Rose's eyes slowly fluttered open. She smiled up at him, her eyes full of joy. "Doctor?"

"Soon, love." John's smile cracked, and as Rose's eyebrows furrowed he ducked his head and kissed her again, releasing the catch on the watch.

Outside the infirmary, Martha leaned back against the wall, her eyes shut tight against the brilliant light that shone around the door. The screams, though… those, she couldn't escape.