Chapter 12
After bidding their hosts good night, the Doctor and Sam went upstairs. The Time Lord dug into his jacket pocket in search of his room key as he reached the landing. All through dinner, he'd been thinking about Sam's comments about his appetite, how the words and even the tone reminded him so much of Rose. Of course, he knew Sam wasn't Rose so there had to be a logical explanation for the sudden, odd behavior. A kind of telepathy he wasn't aware of, perhaps. "How did you do it?" the Doctor asked, stopping Sam from entering his room.
"Do what?" Sam asked, totally confused with the question that seemed to come out of left field.
The Gallifreyan turned to look into the human male's eyes. "Speak with Rose's words."
"Um... you mean at dinner?"
"Don't recall you doing it any other time." While the Doctor knew deep down that Sam wouldn't harm Rose physically - actually couldn't harm her - he still wasn't in the least bit comfortable with the idea of Sam taking her place. And if he accidentally harmed her mentally...
Sam sighed. "This is normal. Well, sort of normal..." He noticed the Doctor getting a bit agitated. "I mean, it depends on the leapee. Some of them magnaflux with me occasionally, like when we were on Rextar Seven and I touched your hand." He vaguely recalled a memory of slicing his own wrists and shivered. "Some magnaflux more than others. Rose seems to... um... do so from time to time."
"Magnaflux..." the Doctor repeated, questioning still in his eyes.
"Yeah. It's not really something that's controlled. I can assure you there's nothing dangerous about it. Well, not dangerous to the leapee anyways."
"But it is dangerous to you?"
"The times when it is dangerous, it's because I'm not really in control of my thoughts or actions. If the leapee's magnafluxing is destructive or if it happens at a time when I need my wits about me, then it can get... interesting."
"Oh, I can imagine that it could," the Gallifreyan agreed, remembering how odd things got when Cassandra had taken over first Rose's body and then his own. He distinctly remembered not enjoying being out of control. He allowed the concept of magnafluxing to run through his mind, analyzed it and immediately accepted it as perfectly understandable given Sam's immediate circumstances - all within less than five seconds. "Right," he replied cheerfully before starting for his own room. "Try to keep your wits about you then."
"That's it? 'Right. Try to keep your wits about you then' and that's it?"
"Well, you gave a perfectly logical explanation for your odd behavior at the table. What else is there? Is there something else?" the Doctor added with suspicion.
"Of course, the explanation was logical; it's true." He gave the Doctor a longer glance. "I always thought Al was mercurial, but you're worse."
"Mercurial? Well, I can't say I've ever being associated with the Roman god Mercury. Mind you, I did meet someone who pretended to be Mercury." He winced slightly at the memory. "As I recall, he wasn't a very pleasant fellow. Tried to kidnap Susan," he finished with a mutter.
"Susan? You've mentioned her before. Who is she?"
The Doctor didn't answer, just giving him a look before turning again towards his room. Unlocking the door, he stepped in. He could sense Sam following him into the room but he didn't stop him. He said nothing as he dropped the key onto the dresser and kicked off his trainers.
The physicist spoke up. "From what I've gathered from your reminisces with Harry, you've had a number of 'companions.' This Susan, though, seems to mean something more to you."
The alien sniffed slightly. In his mind, he was thinking of an elfish-looking young lady with short brown - almost black - hair, piercing blue eyes, and hearts of gold. He also was thinking of a damaged shoe that desperately needed to be mended. He never talked about Susan. Never. Until now, apparently. "She was my granddaughter."
"You have a granddaughter?" Sam patiently waited for the answer.
"Had," the Doctor corrected solemnly. "She's gone," he murmured.
Sam's heart went out to the man in front of him. He knew what it meant to lose family, especially when one didn't know what had happened for sure. Like in the before time when he'd lost Tom. "I'm so sorry," he said kindly.
The Doctor cringed internally at the words and tone Sam used, giving him a slight look. "Don't be," he told him bluntly. "It's my fault. I abandoned her, thought I was doing the right thing. I promised her that I'd come back and I didn't. Well... I did but... it wasn't much of a visit," he murmured as he recalled when five of his previous incarnations and quite a few of his companions found themselves fighting for their lives in an attempt to get to the Tower of Rassilon on Gallifrey.
"Oh. I thought you meant she was..." The leaper paused. "Do you know where she is? You could always go back. Even if you abandoned her, I'm sure she'd be happy to see you again."
The alien gave a sad smile. "Yeah. She was," he murmured, his mind still on the last time he saw her, just before the Time War. He swallowed as he realized that Sam had misunderstood his words before. "But going to see her is impossible. Timelines. And now... she's gone. Just like the rest of my people." He paused before changing the subject. "I think you had better get to bed. We have a lot to do tomorrow."
Sam couldn't just walk away from the pain he felt emanating from the Gallifreyan. "I know it hurts to lose someone you love. But I also know that timelines can change. Maybe someday you'll see her again."
The Doctor stared at him for a moment before literally hopping onto the bed and lying on top of the covers, not saying a word as he stared up at the ceiling.
"Fine. Don't answer. Goodnight." Sam turned to walk to the egress.
"It doesn't work that way," the Doctor told him bluntly.
Sam turned around, quickly. Hearing the pain in the Time Lord's voice, he swallowed. "Sometimes it does."
"It doesn't in this case," the Gallifreyan emphasized. "You have no idea what it is like to be really truly alone and unable to do anything about it. And I hope, Sam Beckett, that you never do."
"Not like you, that's true. But there are many forms of being alone. I realize you've had more years than I have, but since I stepped into the Accelerator, I've seen the real me only a handful of times." He huffed a small laugh. "You've had companions through your travels, flesh and blood people. I thank God for Al everyday or at least as much as I can remember, but I can't even touch him. He's the only one from my time and he's never physically there." He swallowed. "I know it isn't the same, but I do empathize," he finished.
There was an unsettling silence in the room as the men's words hung in the air. The Doctor closed his eyes and took a deep breath before opening them and finally looking at Sam without moving an inch from his prone position. "I will get you home, Sam," he said firmly and with determination.
The sides of Sam's mouth rose a bit. "I hope you're right." He paused. "You gonna be all right?"
The Doctor gave a slight smile, so plainly false to anyone who looked closely enough. "I'm always all right."
"No, you're not. You show that face to the world you take such good care of, but who takes care of you? I'm here now, Doctor. I may not fully understand, but I'll listen and I'll try to help."
"You can help by leaving me alone," the Doctor said softly but without malice. "It's late and we both need rest."
"Okay. Then pleasant dreams." He started to the door and then turned back. "Time Lords do dream, don't they?"
The Doctor exhaled slowly, a haunted look on his face. "Yes. I dream." He paused for a moment. "Good night, Dr. Beckett. Turn off light when you leave."
Doing as asked, the time trapped human assured the lights were indeed off. Entering his own room, he thought of the man he'd just left, suddenly realizing the magnitude of what the Time Lord had said. He recalled that the Doctor had said there were no other Time Lords. He still didn't understand how the Gallifreyan could be so certain about that but somehow he figured it was all wrapped up in this situation. He looked backed towards the other room and whispered, "I'm not sure, but I'm beginning to wonder if you're the reason why I'm here." With that thought in mind, he settled in for the night.
DWQLTWDWQLTW
After Sam left, the Doctor lay in silence, in the darkness, staring at nothing except the thoughts running through his mind. For some reason, this particular room was the one he always was given when he stayed at the inn, though he wasn't sure why that was the case. Perhaps it was just Harry and Sally's policy to give him this room anytime he came for a visit. However, at that moment, the reasoning behind the room assignment was furthest from his mind, even if it did flitter briefly across for a peek.
No, at that moment, he wanted nothing more than to go to Rose and hug her, just to feel her gentle soul close to his hearts. No questions from curious, overly sympathetic physicists from the 21st century, no need to give any explanations. Just a hug to drive back the memories, to drive back the guilt that he could never seem to purge. Oh, he could live with it now, unlike before. But it was always there. And he knew that Sam Beckett would never understand, not like Rose did. Besides... he wasn't about to go hug Sam, even if he did look like Rose. With his luck, a gentleman named Jack Harkness would check into the inn just at that moment and catch him in the act. He knew Jack was a clever man and he couldn't be certain that he hadn't found some way off of Game Station and traveled to Earth's distant past. Well, distant being a relative concept, especially when one was traveling from the year 200,100.
His thoughts shifted away from the mystery that was his former companion to three distinct things: getting Sam home and Rose back, solving Harry's problem with the mysterious being in the basement, and Susan. Sam had a point; he could easily go and find out what happened to her. But he was so scared - so very scared - of perhaps learning that she either was already dead or was alive and couldn't forgive him. And the real rub was the fact that, even if he did find her, he would be unable to interact with her for risk of damaging space-time. His thoughts were so focused that he didn't even notice that he had fallen asleep, a rarity for him when on an adventure.
Daffidd...
It wasn't even really a sound but a feeling. An odd creeping feeling that sent him sitting upright in his bed, especially since the name spoken was last done by a human woman. Looking around quickly for the source, he shivered slightly.
"Is it my imagination or is the room extremely cold?" he murmured to himself, trying desperately to ignore the name he heard in his head.
Daffidd...
The sensation was there again. The only thing the Doctor could compare it to was someone shouting at the top of their lungs but unheard because they were a great distance away and there was a hard wind blowing. It didn't help that whatever the voice was, it knew the name his human mother had always called him. Scrambling from the bed, the Doctor quickly searched for his sonic screwdriver, his eyes easily finding the device in the darkened room. Turning it on, he quickly scanned the room, frowning at the readings he was getting. "Electromagnetic field is off the charts... temperature has dropped to... negative one degree Celsius! It's twenty degrees outside! This building doesn't have air conditioning! That's... impossible!"
Daffidd...
The Doctor turned his head towards the sensation, slowly approaching it, wary of everything around him.
Time Lord...
His mind was still wrapped around the impossibility of this... strange event.
"Doctor?"
Light abruptly filled his vision, causing him to turn quickly towards the door to see Sam standing in the doorway.
The human noted the quick movement of his new friend. "I thought I heard something. Are you okay?"
"Does this room feel odd to you?" the Gallifreyan asked, calming his mind so quickly from being startled that it didn't even register on his face.
Sam nodded. "Yeah. It's freezing in here. What's going on?"
"I don't know," the Time Lord murmured, looking around the room as if this were the first time he'd ever seen it in his life when, in fact, he'd never stayed in any of the other rooms in the inn. "There was an electromagnetic field as well, like nothing I've seen before." He paused, thinking hard. There was something in the back of his head, something of an Earth legend, like those stories they liked to tell around campfires. He counted them on his fingers. "Change in temperature, odd EM field..." He fluttered his fingers behind his neck. "...prickly sensation as if the hairs on the back of your neck are going up..." He paused. "Voices. Quiet winds screaming for attention."
Sam noted that the temperature seemed to be rising again. "It's almost as if someone's trying to convince us this house is haunted."
The Doctor clicked his fingers and pointed at Sam. "That's it! Hauntings! Ghost hauntings!" He frowned slightly. "But not like rips in the space-time vortex... something else..." He clicked his fingers again before hitting the back of his head. "Come on. Think think think..."
Seeing the alien abusing his cranium, Sam asked, concerned, "Does that really help?"
The Gallifreyan stopped his mistreatment of his skull. "Not really," he commented. "Just a habit I seem to have with this incarnation." He frowned. "Actually, it gives me a bloody headache most of the time. Well... sometimes."
"Then maybe you should use some other action when you're thinking." The room had reached the proper temperature again. "Whatever it was seems to have passed."
"Yes," the Doctor concurred, looking up at the ceiling as if it held the answer. A split second later, he took two giant and rapid steps to his overcoat, which was laid over the back of a chair. Rifling through it, he pulled out the psychic paper and gave it to Sam. "I have a mission for you."
"It's two thirty in the morning," Sam said, noticing the alarm clock on the nightstand.
"Is it?" the Doctor questioned with surprise. He followed Sam's gaze to see the time on the clock. "Right. Well, first thing in the morning then. Go to the University, city records, wherever you can think, and dig into their archives. Find out as much as you can about this building. Architecture, year it was built, legends and ghost stories... everything."
"Can I eat breakfast first?" the Earth physicist asked wryly.
"Well, if you must," the Doctor answered quickly. "Just get whatever you can. Use the psychic paper but don't abuse it. Last thing I want is to have to bail my companion out of jail again."
"All right," Sam said warily, looking at the paper with a hint of confusion. "How do I use it?"
"You just... do," came the reply, as if anyone with any common sense knew how to work with psychic paper. Seeing the confusion on Sam's face, he sighed. "I forget sometimes that even the most brilliant humans can be a little thick if they haven't had the proper amount of sleep. Plus you're a little too brilliant to be fooled by psychic paper in the first place." Taking a breath, he explained. "Psychic paper will cause others to see whatever you want them to see on it. Basically, if you think up the proper credentials with your name on it, or even an alias on it, that is what the other person will see on the paper. Should get you into any archive. Just be sure to concentrate on your cover story or it won't work."
Sam looked skeptical. "All I need to do is concentrate and people will see what I want them to." He looked at the blank paper. "You're sure this works?"
"Of course, it works!" the Time Lord berated him. "You think I go around time and space, flashing a blank piece of paper at others, telling them I'm Dr. John Smith from the War Department and they are so gullible that they believe me?"
"No, I suppose not." Sam yawned. "I'm going back to bed for now, though. Goodnight."
"Don't lose that paper!" the Doctor told him as he watched him return to his room. He grinned slightly as he closed the door and shut off the lights. With the memory of the weird sensation running through his head, however, there was no way he was going to fall asleep again tonight.
