'Doc Martin' and its existing characters is the property of Buffalo Pictures, Ltd., of which I have no affiliation – only admiration. I love the characters, and the actors who bring them to life, and do try my best to treat them with the utmost respect . This post season 6 story follows where 'Then We Must Change' left off, so reading that one first should make a lot of things a whole lot clearer. No intended spoilers, but I do reference events from throughout the series. 'DCI Banks' is the property of Left Bank Pictures, no copyright infringements or existing case spoilers are intended, I'm just borrowing a character or two. Reviews are always appreciated, thank you and happy reading. -DC

Time Travel

Chapter Fourteen – "Peace by Piece"

Louisa had in the end cried herself to sleep last night, curled into herself and grasping on to my hand until finally relaxing as sleep overtook her. I had remained awake for quite some time, not daring to move and simultaneously overcome by a sense of inadequacy – an inability to help her, to be useful.

She had appeared uncharacteristically small and vulnerable, completely enveloped by my stature and seemingly locked into place the way she had tucked her head under my chin. Not having bothered combing out her hair after showering, the usually soft texture of it had felt . . . coarse and different against my skin.

She had felt different.

We are scheduled to see Dr. Arscott as usual tomorrow afternoon, but that is more than 24 hours out and I remain concerned for her welfare, uncertain as to the progress today may bring – if any.

Currently turned into me, buried against my side as if hiding, she is beginning to stir yet not fully awake. James Henry is thankfully still quiet, likely exhausted after the last couple of days' antics. Like myself he does not take kindly to changes in his routine and this entire past week, and particularly yesterday with Louisa unable to interact with him as she normally would have, has left him uncharacteristically uncooperative and whingey.

A warm and familiar hand finds its way past my sternum and settles over the general area of my heart, a gesture with which I have generally come to associate certain repose.

"Did you know that your heartbeat has a very soothing effect on me, Martin? Well, most times anyways."

"No, I didn't know that. Good morning."

"Morning. Well now you do."

"Do what?"

"Know 'bout it."

"Right, yes."

"Thank you for . . . being there for me last night, I must've been in need of a good cry. I guess all the . . . the events of this week, have got to me more than I thought they would – or could. Or maybe I'd just never thought I'd be dealing with something like this – I don't really know. Seems there's no preconceived notion for this kind of thing floating 'round in my head, least I can't locate it. And I've been searching these last few days you know."

"Mm. How are you feeling today?"

"Bit better now, been thinking. . . . I want going forwards to be . . . like a blank slate, and I've come to realise that looking back right now just makes me angry and sad – upset like. So for now I should be focussing mostly forwards then, yeah? For a while, anyways – leave the past in peace till I get to know the present."

"Sound reasoning."

"Ruth had me look past the anger and hurt – well, something she said made me do it, really. And this is where I ended up, hopefully she'll approve.

Louisa is quiet for a long time, before speaking up again.

"What's she like?"

"Who?"

"Helen, my . . . sister."

"Oh, um – yes right. I didn't speak with her for very long, Louisa."

"Well no, but you must've formed some kind of impression of her in the time you did speak to her?"

"She seemed very . . . straight-forward – direct. Organised in speech and to the point, not easily rattled. Clear and concise in answering and conveying the information I requested, took what I had to say in stride. Reliable, she had the letter to me just as she said she would. Other than that, I don't recall anything specific."

"Actually, Martin, that was pretty specific. She sounds . . . well, she certainly doesn't sound much like me at all, does she? More like you really I reckon, and I should know."

"Hm, yes – a bit. It is worth bearing in mind that I did interrupt her at her place of employment and she is a Detective Inspector, which is exactly how she came across. You sound very different when you are at the school, Louisa, more . . . authoritative, commanding – disciplined."

"I do?"

"You do. As a matter of fact . . . during your interview for the Headship, when I was recruited for the Board of Governors?"

"Mm . . ."

"Well, you weren't very happy with me at the time, as you may recall."

"I do, yes."

"The fire you possessed that day, during that interview, and the way you stood up for yourself and the pupils – stood up to me. You made quite the impression on me that day I will have you know, and you have continued to do so ever since. You're driven Louisa."

"Driven?"

"Mm, yes. And as for your sister not sounding like you, that's not entirely true. You may not express yourself with similar manner and verbage, but I clearly recall my immediate thoughts after having rung off that day were how she seemed to share your sense of drive. You both seem motivated in much the same way, though I'm not clear as to how I reached that conclusion, it doesn't seem logical."

"Life isn't always logical, Martin."

"No, I suppose not."

"What's she sound like?"

"A bit like you perhaps, but more Northern not Cornish obviously. Not as . . . melodious?"

That brings her out of hiding as she studiously perches above me – my Louisa having seemingly returned.

"Did you just call me melodious?"

Kissing me full on the mouth she seems appreciative of my diction and settles back down into her spot, albeit scooting up a bit.

"Well, you . . . do have your ways of making me sing, husband."

That much has proven true time after time and is an experiment in which the outcome can be predicted and repeated with a high degree of certainty.

"In all seriousness though Martin, do you think I'll like her, get along with her? More importantly, do you think she'll like me? What if she doesn't like me, then what?"

"I couldn't possibly say from one phone conversation, Louisa. But based on logic I will say that with your affinity for people and the way people in turn feel comfortable around you, the odds are pretty favourable."

"Hope so . . . I'm a little bit scared if I'm to be completely honest. I'm worried I'll let her down somehow, that I'll end up disappointing her."

"Louisa . . . "

"How 'bout the twin thing, Martin? As a doctor what do you think, don't they say twins have a special bond or something of the sort?"

"Well, that holds true with monozygotic twins to a certain extent, but dizygotic twins raised apart shouldn't expect to be any more connected than singleton siblings raised apart."

"Oh, I didn't know that. Did dad say anything about that, about . . . you know, what kind we were?"

"Are, Louisa. And no I asked, he didn't know."

"Right . . . I just, I don't even know where to begin – what to say, what to do or how to act. Here she's got a head start on me and has already done up and passed along a very informative and well thought out letter, whereas my thoughts are bouncing all over the place and I can't even think straight, never mind try to sit down in front of a computer to methodically type up a document. I just wanna pour my heart out, but she probably wouldn't like that, would she?"

Louisa's bottom lip is being punished once again by those perfectly white upper teeth. A decidedly bad habit, but one I consider to be uniquely my wife. I can't help but wonder now if her sister carries the same trait.

Time will tell.

"Maybe I should go 'bout this like I did do when I was a kid, Martin. I'd hide under the duvet with a torch scribbling in my diary all of my thoughts – just anything that would jump to mind, a jumble of words usually, but mine nonetheless."

"Well, don't act for one – just be yourself. And you could compose a diary if you feel it would help, but you wouldn't necessarily need the torch. I, um . . . I got you something. Well, ordered you something . . . useful. It arrived Tracked 24 yesterday, but you seemed a bit out of sorts so I didn't want to burden you."

"A package arrived yesterday, for me? From you?"

"Mm, it is sitting in my consulting room. Since your spirits seem to have lifted, perhaps you could take a look at it today, after breakfast?"

"Now . . . now is good, yeah?"

"Now? Well I could go get it."

"You . . . could."

I can tell she is rather anxious to see what it is that I have picked out for her, patience is not one of Louisa's many virtues, however unbeknownst to her I am quite enjoying seeing her like this. I am relieved her mood has lifted and one would have to be rather obtuse not to pick up on her poorly repressed enthusiasm. Even I am not that abject.

"So . . . should I then, go get it I mean?"

"Martin, my god. You're actually teasing me, aren't you? Yes, yes go get it – please. Hurry, before James wakes!"

So I do as I am told and return with said item, quite anxious myself to see her reaction. I could be way out of line of course, but I'm hoping she'll find it a useful incentive and a first step in connecting with her sister.

"– Martin, how did you . . . ?"

"I called the shop in Wadebridge on Wednesday to set it aside for you, hoping we could pick it up on our way home, but when it became clear that we weren't going to be stopping in I phoned and had them dispatch it through the post instead."

"It's brilliant, just brilliant – how'd you think of it?"

"Helen, actually. She mentioned in her letter to you that she has one with her at all times, so I thought it only fair that you should have one as well. It may also prove useful for your school work and I believe you can transfer your pictures of James onto it as well as take new ones – it has a camera built in."

She's already got the gadget booted up and seems very pleased with my purchase.

"Where your mobile is black, that seemed the logical choice, but there is a white and silver option available if you prefer. And I've already had the iPad mobile access added onto our plan, so you should be able to utilise it wherever you have a signal for your mobile, or so I was told."

"This is a very nice and thoughtful surprise, Martin. You really want to see me pursue this, don't you?"

"Of course I do. You've been given a chance to find your missing piece and to make it right."

"Thank you Martin. For thinking of this, for steering me in the right direction – keeping me afloat when I feel like I'm sinking. James and I are very lucky to have you in our lives, you know, and I don't think I tell you that enough. I will try to do better."

She gives me a quick peck on the cheek.

"I'm also hoping I can tell my sister about you one day, to let her know how lucky I am to have found you, that is. To have a friend, let alone a sister, who might understand these kind of things . . . Well, just maybe that's in the cards for me now, who knows, yeah? Scary and exciting at once it is."

Louisa is rarely truly afraid of anything, but no doubt this is stirring her underlying insecurities . . . and I'll have to admit rightfully so.

"But . . . Martin? You should know that I already found my missing piece years ago, my perfect opposite. Took me a while to realise it and a considerable while longer to see us align in time and space, but . . . once we did do I knew with absolute certainty that I loved you and that we love one another."

She's drawing little patterns on my chest with her index finger. I don't think she's even aware, but I'm enjoying the familiarity of it – another trait that is uniquely Louisa.

"The hardest thing 'bout being perfect opposites, Martin, is the perfect part – doesn't allow us much wiggle room, now does it? When we're even the littlest bit off kilter, we don't fall into place as easily as most people. But that's okay 'cause we're not most people, we're us – you and me Martin. We've just got to learn to trust that we do perfectly form a bigger picture; a family that will continue to change piece by piece. Sometimes we may not even recognise it, but its ours, Martin – yours and mine, and that's how family comes about."

And this is the Louisa that I know and love, the feisty emotionally outspoken one who will say and do all the things that I cannot even conceive of, let alone express. She's the only person who has the innate ability to render me speechless and who's come to understand, even expect perhaps, that when I look at her as I do now it is with absolute and unconditional love and admiration.

"This family we're part of may not've come 'bout in the right order, nor are we picture perfect . . . but we've got potential don't we Martin? We've got all the right pieces, just need to keep workin' on the layout, yeah?"

And working on it we are.

We are doing considerably better Louisa and I, and with the addition of James Henry in my life family has taken on a whole new meaning for me as well. As Louisa has correctly gathered, I now feel part of a bigger picture – possibly for the first time ever. No longer does the thought of such a unit fill me with absolute dread.

In fact, despite the unpredictability and inevitable changes involved, and now an extended branch by way of Helen and her family, I find that I want to continue to grow what was planted years ago when I found my missing piece.

Even if I'm not exactly certain as to what this realisation may mean for us, I do know that I'm at peace with it and no longer opposed to finding out.