The Doctor found that he was already sprinting back through the forest and towards the clearing when the explosion tore through the air. He couldn't quite remember at what point he had left the control room, but didn't have time to dwell on it as the very earth around him began to rock and quake as, up ahead, a gigantic mushroom cloud of fire, debris, ash and dust shot into the sky.
A wall of heat hit him head first as, dodging the now falling trees as well, the Doctor continued across the shaking ground. He knew he was being foolish- there was simply no way anyone could possibly have survived being at the epicentre of such an explosion- but there was still a deep, parental instinct he didn't even know he possessed driving him forwards, and he knew he wouldn't be able to stop until he knew, one way or another, whether Jenny was dead.
If he was being truly honest with himself, though, he didn't truly know what he would do if she was. Jenny was his reason to keep living- his inspiration for being a better person- and without her he would have to resort back to being the last, lonely Time Lord. That couldn't happen.
Hurdling a fallen tree trunk with ease, the Doctor finally made it to the, now, destroyed clearing. Any trees in the surrounding area had been torched by the mushroom cloud as it burst from the already created hole that, less than an hour ago, the Commander and his men had pulled him from. It felt like an eternity since then now.
The hole itself seemed to have crumbled at the edges, making it bigger, but a number of trees had collapsed over it (presumably during the explosion), making it impossible to get through to the underground. It was actually surprising that the tunnel was still standing at all, never mind its roof being able to withstand numerous heavy tree trunks laying across it without collapsing under the weight.
The secret entrance, however, had suffered a far worse fate. The rock shaped like Gandhi's face hiding the entrance from view was completely gone and the whole thing seemed to have folded in on itself, making it impossible to get down.
"Jenny?" the Doctor screeched as soldiers staggered about, beginning to attempt to move some of the trees out of the way.
He made as if to race forwards and try to help, but felt strong hands grip his shoulders from behind and hold him in place.
"Doctor, I'm so sorry for your loss."
The Doctor whipped around and came face to face with a bloodied, dazed, slightly singed Commander.
"Don't say that. People only say that when somebody's dead. Well you don't know that Jenny is dead. You don't know. When they shift those trees they're going to pull her, very much alive and well, from the wreckage," the Doctor rambled at top speed, seemingly trying to convince himself more than anyone else.
The Commander surveyed him kindly, before resting a reassuring hand on the Doctor's shoulder. "I know this must be hard for you, but there's simply no way she could have survived being at the centre of that- it would have toasted her alive. You're just going to have to prepare for them pulling a body, or what's left of-"
"No, nope, Jenny's stronger than that. She's too much like me- she can regenerate, she told me so. She might come out a different person, but she's coming out alive. She has to." The Doctor began to shake at the mere thought of the alternative. "I need to be there when they find her."
And so, shrugging the Commander's hand off his shoulder, the Doctor turned and stepped back over towards the, still, tree covered hole, all the time, in his heart of hearts, hoping that what he had told the Commander was true. He was beginning to have doubts anyway- even if she did regenerate, would she still be the same person? Would she still be as selfless, witty and kind? Would their relationship ever be the same?
But what was the alternative- death? The Doctor couldn't even stomach the idea that the Commander could be right- that they'd pull a charcoaled corpse from the wreckage and he'd never again hear the sound of his daughter's laughter, or watch her eyes begin to sparkle at the promise of adventure.
The smell of freshly turned earth filled the Doctor's nose and he suddenly realised he was on the floor, curled into a foetal position. When had that happened? He found, though, that when he tried to get up he simply couldn't; a pain was spreading through his whole body from where he assumed his hearts should be, but that didn't make any sense- his hearts were broken. He then noticed something wet on his cheek, and when he reached up with a shaking hand to touch the source, he realised it was tears. Was he crying?
"Come on sunshine, up you get," the Commander sighed gently from above the, by now, utterly defeated shadow of a man, having moved towards him as he saw him fall. He helped the somewhat limp Doctor to his feet and gripped him tightly around the waist, steering him to an abandoned tree stump. "Here we are- just sit down here for a while until you've calmed down a bit."
The Doctor didn't respond as he sat atop the stump, simply looked vacant. Not a good sign. The Commander was just about to call for some medical help when a yell cut him off.
"Commander? We've found something!"
The Doctor was already sprinting off towards the source of the utterance before the words had even registered with the Commander, but once they had he took off after him towards the tree covered hole- except now a couple of them had been moved enough to fit a grown man through, and someone was, indeed, hauling something large and oddly shaped through.
"Jenny?"
It became obvious as the shape was pulled from the depths of the underground, however, that it wasn't a person, but still the men ran until they skidded to a stop beside it.
"What is it?" the Commander asked while the Doctor waved his sonic screwdriver manically up and down across its surface.
"I saw these before, while I was down there. You told us before that any soldiers who had been down there in the past didn't come back up again- well I think the creature was storing them up in these for later use. Apparently they're flame proof..."
"You mean there's a person in there?" the Commander almost choked, pointing incredulously to the mess of tightly wrapped vines in front of him.
"Yes." A sigh.
"Then how do we get them out? Are they still alive?" the Commander quizzed hurriedly, bending down beside the already kneeling Doctor.
"If Jenny's hypothesis is right, they should still be alive, yes. And, now I assume the creature is dead, it should only take..."
The Doctor didn't finish his sentence, simply reached out and tugged at one of the many nondescript vines and, after a few moments, the whole makeshift sack disintegrated into dust, leaving a very pale, very dirty, but very much alive young man of no older than sixteen years old laid before them.
The Commander let a cry of joy escape his lips as the boy took a deep, steadying breath, before opening his eyes and staring around. Not even the Doctor could stop himself from grinning.
"Where am I?" asked the boy, blinking dumbly up at the two men leaning over him.
"You're safe. You've been through quite an ordeal," the Commander replied gently as the Doctor scanned the boy with the sonic once more.
"Two broken ribs and a fractured ankle but, considering the sheer size and power of the explosion, he's been incredibly lucky. Whatever those vines are made of, they're amazingly strong," he replied once he had finished his scan, noting the results on the side of his beloved screwdriver. "Obviously they're designed to keep anything from trying to break the victims free, but somehow still manage to get sustenance to the bodies in order to keep them alive. Quite ingenious if you really think about it."
"Yes, quite," the Commander sighed, less than impressed at the Doctor's sudden fascination with the flora. Was this some form of new coping mechanism- focusing on the positives belonging to the creature that had killed his child? He didn't know.
"Commander? We think we've found her!"
The Doctor's head snapped up faster than was surely possible as his blood turned cold, bracing himself as the Commander strode purposefully over to the gap in the fallen trees. There was silence and stillness for a few moments, then something small, red and black hurtled through the exposed hole and landed by the startled Commander's feet.
Looking down, the Doctor recognised what it was immediately and bile rose in his throat as a result. Resting on the floor, and almost completely melted, was a single Converse shoe. Jenny's shoe.
"Doctor! They have her! Quickly!" the Commander yelled, now atop one of the fallen trees in his attempt to help pull Jenny from out of the dark gap between the tree he stood on and the one opposite.
The Doctor pulled himself to his feet and, trying to clear his unusually dry throat by swallowing heavily, he ghosted unsteadily over to where the Commander stood. He had never been more uncertain or terrified by anything in his entire life, and he honestly didn't know what to do with himself. The equally tragic and absurd nature of the whole situation was almost too much for him to take.
"I see her!" the Commander cried, reaching down into the dark in order to pull Jenny free. His face fell once his eyes latched onto her. "Doctor, maybe it's best you not-"
"-What? What is it- what's wrong with her?" The Doctor finally found his voice and moved forwards as, slightly reluctantly, the Commander took Jenny from the outstretched arms of the soldier in the tunnel below.
The sight that met the Doctor's eyes took all the air and strength from his body, and it was all he could do to keep from collapsing to his knees.
Jenny was lying completely still in the Commander's strong arms, half covered by the same vines that had covered the boy now being led away by a medical officer. There was something distinctly wrong with the image of Jenny compared with the young man, though. The vines hadn't completely covered her body, as though she had put up a fight or there hadn't been enough time and/or space to do it properly, and so the protruding patches of flesh visible underneath were hideously burnt and bloody. But the Doctor could tell by the overall size and shape that Jenny was still in the same body. Why had she not regenerated?
He found he simply had no words important enough to convey what he was feeling as the Commander climbed slowly from atop the tree trunk and laid Jenny by the Doctor's feet, so he stayed silent as he crouched beside her and tugged on one of the vines. Just as before, the makeshift cocoon disintegrated into dust once touched, leaving, if possible, an even more devastating sight in front of him.
Jenny's eyes were closed and the gentle rise and fall of her chest was gone. Patches of her clothes had been completely burnt away, as well as patches of her hair, leaving splatters of burnt, bright red and even black skin all over her body. The small, resilient end of a vine was still latched onto the left side of her chest and had refused to disintegrate with the rest. Gently, the Doctor reached out with a surprisingly steady hand and felt for a pulse. Nothing.
"She's gone," he whispered, silent tears flooding his face. He didn't even attempt to stop them. "She can't be gone!"
His fists came down on her chest in a sudden fit of anger, almost as though he thought he could beat some life back into her.
The Commander didn't know what to do. He was certain the Doctor needed a moment alone in order to compose himself, but he was loath to leave the man for fear of what he might do either to himself or the body of his child in a fit of emotion, so he stayed put.
The Doctor brought his fists back down onto Jenny's chest again before the Commander had a chance to stop him, knocking the stray bit of vine askew in the process, and suddenly froze as the seemingly lifeless corpse in front of him exhaled.
He looked up at the Commander, eyes wide. "Did you see that?"
"See what?" replied the Commander, slightly worried by the crazed look in the other man's eyes.
The Doctor turned back to Jenny, watching closely for signs of life. He was sure she had taken a breath- certain of it.
"She just breathed out. I'm sure she did."
The Commander's face turned instantaneously sympathetic. "Doctor, she has no pulse. You said so yourself- she's gone. How can she be breathing if she's dead?"
"Maybe I diagnosed her wrong! Contrary to popular belief, I'm not actually a medical doctor!" the Doctor snapped in reply, leaning over to place his ear to his daughter's hearts. Still nothing. Damn it, he was so sure she had taken a breath!
"Anything?" the Commander asked not unkindly, but more hopefully.
The Doctor shook his head silently, now placing his hand over where her hearts should be, and in the process knocked the vine again. This time the corpse inhaled loud enough to make both men jump.
"Did you see it this time?" the Doctor squealed excitedly, kneeling up to get a better look at Jenny.
"Yes, I did," the Commander retorted, in shock. "But she isn't breathing now..."
He was right. As the Doctor watched the rise and fall of her chest stopped again, leaving the body, once again, motionless.
"It's whenever I move the vine," he realised in a small voice after a few moments of silence.
"What?" the Commander quizzed bemusedly.
"She starts breathing whenever I touch or jiggle the vine around," the Doctor explained, reaching out to pull it off.
Would it really work? Could it really be that simple? It was quite possible that the vines had protected Jenny enough from the explosion to save her from regenerating, but why had it stopped her hearts? Was there something wrong with her? There was only one way to find out.
The Doctor gripped the vine tightly in one hand and, inhaling sharply, he tugged it from Jenny's chest. For a moment both men braced themselves, expecting the worst. Nothing happened. Then, just as they lowered their guards again, Jenny suddenly lurched up, taking a huge breath with wide eyes roaming over the surrounding area, before gripping onto the startled Doctor's jacket for dear life and burying her head against his chest.
"Oh God, Jenny, you're alright, I promise you you're safe now. I thought you were dead- I didn't know what to do-" the Doctor rambled into his daughter's hair as he cradled her quaking, sobbing body tightly in his arms.
"-I wasn't dead! I wasn't dead," Jenny cried hysterically. "They don't take your soul at all! They stop your body on purpose so they can feed on the memory power in your brain! But, in the process, your whole life flashes before your eyes and, no surprises, the bad memories create the most power. I was conscious the entire time, I just couldn't move!"
"What?" The Doctor didn't understand. Was she delirious?
"I don't know how, but they must have put my body under a time lock or something, so I couldn't move, but in here I was totally conscious- they all are."
Jenny tapped the side of her head as she spoke, and the Doctor finally understood. Gazing upon his quivering, silently sobbing daughter, he couldn't even begin to imagine the horrors she must have been shown and the terror she must have felt whilst imprisoned in her own body, unable to fight against it. If what she said about the time lock was true, however, then this was very far from over and Jenny was still very far from being alright. He looked into her eyes and saw her soul screaming back at him, asking him to help her. By removing the vine he had removed whatever it was that was stopping her from moving, but that didn't mean that the terrifying memories from her past weren't still flashing before her eyes, even though the Jalvoltri was dead. The other victims would be alright even though the lock hadn't been completely lifted- they hadn't experienced what Jenny had in her long lifetime- but the shaking girl in front of him was another matter.
"You know what you have to do," she whispered sincerely.
The Doctor did know what he had to do, but he didn't want to do it.
"Are you sure it's a time lock? You know I can't bring you back if it isn't," he told her seriously, glancing around. The Commander had joined his men at the other side of the clearing.
"I'm certain. But I want it to be you."
The Doctor sighed heavily, before nodding once and getting to his feet. Eyeing a gun hanging from its holster around the Commander's waist, he strode across the clearing and, before anyone knew what he was doing, he took it and turned back to Jenny. She was now on her feet, arms spread wide in an attempt to make it an easier shot.
"Doctor, what the hell are you doing?" the Commander yelled as he realised his gun had been taken, watching in shock as the Doctor pointed it at his child.
The first shot was enough to lift her off her feet and leave her in a crumpled heap on the floor. As wisps of golden light began to leak from her body, however, the Doctor took a deep breath in order to steady his shaking hand and, repositioning his aim, he shot again. This time a white light filled the clearing as Jenny's body appeared to burst into atoms before everyone's eyes.