A/N: Sorry to anyone who has me on their Favourite Author list and received like seven emails from me – fanfiction kept changing the description on my new story. (Check it out if you want, I wrote it really quickly before a lecture; it's called 'An Inexcusable Feeling' and it's Whouffle) This adventure is coming to an end, but not before I break your heart a little. I originally planned to post this earlier but I got onto my university's Student's Union Magazine as a Journalist and my first article was to write a tribute to Seamus Heaney with only five days to do it in. But here it is! Bring tissues next time around, and I'd really appreciate a review or two. Thank you to my regular reviewers; you will be mentioned next chapter!
Chapter Fourteen: Flowers and Guesses
When Strax returned to the Doctor, on his own, he was more than a little confused.
The small alien didn't even get a chance to rap the door because the Doctor was there in two heartbeats once he realised Rose was absent. The Doctor was going through some theory with Benjamin, prepping him up and tipping him off on what to expect from their plan of action. The Doctor had a full plan now and Benjamin was one hundred per cent behind him throughout it, even if it did mean the young lawyer putting his life at risk.
The only person to distract him now was Rose. And Rose wasn't here.
"Where's Rose?" the Doctor practically shouted in Strax's face once the door was open.
Strax was standing with one fist raised in the air ready to knock the door and a puzzled expression on his scrunched up potato face.
The Doctor slammed his hand against the door frame. "Where's Rose?!" he demanded.
Strax straightened and revealed the book he was holding in his other hand. "She said she had other plans and she would be back here around the same time as me. Is she not back yet?"
"Obviously not!" the Doctor spat. He stood to the side to let Strax into the hall. "Did you ask her where she went? You didn't stop her from going?"
"Um, no. Should I've?"
The Doctor fell against the closed door, his head pressing against the wood and his eyes closed tight. He didn't respond. He had no words. A deep, irritating and inconsolable anger tainted with fear rose through him. His fists clenched together and he had to physically bite his tongue to stop himself from shouting. Why couldn't she just listen? Why did she have to be so defiantly stubborn? Couldn't she see she was putting herself in unnecessary danger? Couldn't she see what was happening to him because she so reckless? It was like he was facing his biggest phobia at every turn. The universe was trying to tear them apart and Rose seemed to be a willing accomplice.
Reckless, stubborn, defiant, independent. Everything that drove him to the point of breaking.
But he wouldn't love her any other way.
While his feet led him back into the living room, the Doctor's mind was lost elsewhere. Benjamin was half standing and half sitting, his eyes narrowing as he realised they were one person down.
"Where's Rose?" he asked, a little too concerned for the Doctor's liking.
"Not here," answered Strax.
The Doctor, coming to a swift decision, shrugged and snatched Strax's book from his clasp. It was indeed the Bronte book of poetry that Rose had told them about. He flicked over to the first page and found that he didn't need to go any further. Three poems were highlighted in the index – the three first poems in the book, all by the author Charlotte Bronte. They were 'Retrospection,' 'Parting,' and 'Life.'
When he flicked to the three poems, everything fell into place. The first poem, 'Retrospection' talked of a fantasy land created by the Bronte sisters when they were young. It was the last two lines of the final stanza that were underlined in this one: Oh how my heart shrank back to thee,/Then I felt how fast thy ties had bound me.
The Second poem, 'Parting' spoke of death, life, parting and families. Once again it referred to hearts and remembrance, not to mention shooting stars, but it was left quite blank.
The third and final poem called 'Life' was probably the most highlighted by the reader, and the one which made the Doctor connect the dots. The lines underlined in this one were: If the shower will make the roses bloom,/O why lament its fall? And in the second stanza: What though Death at times steps in,/And calls our Best away? It was all so clear now. How hadn't he seen it before? But he needed confirmation.
"Benjamin!" he shouted, making the young man jump. "You said you studied the cases of the Heartless murders – so tell me this; who was the first victim?"
He stuttered. "Um, um a woman called… Best, I think her name was. She was married to Alfred Best."
The Doctor reopened the book of poems to the last highlighted stanza: What though Death at times steps in,/And calls our Best away? What though sorrow seems to win,/O'er hope, a heavy sway?/Yet hope again elastic springs,/Unconquered, though she fell;/Still buoyant are her golden wings,/Still strong to bear us well.
Yep. Best was capitalised in the poem. It all fit.
"Your last name is Primrose. The poem refers to flowers and roses, ha! Why didn't I see this before?"
The Doctor was on his feet now, exuberating energy. "Best was capitalised in the poem and the first victim was dear old Mrs Best! Ha! Well, we believe she was the first victim. Now I'm not too sure. Shooting stars, flowers, names, hearts, everything that refers to the Heartless Case! It's all in these poems!"
Benjamin was staring at the Doctor as if he was crazy. "And what's important about that…?"
"What's important is the significance of metaphors and personification and allusion and everything else that makes literature so spectacular and knowledgeable and so incredibly human!" the Doctor shouted while flinging the book across the room.
"I don't know what you –"
"Strax," the Doctor turned to the alien in order to clear up some of Benjamin's confusion. "If I tell you my love for you is like the darling buds of May, what do you think I mean?"
The sontaran frowned in concentration. "I would tell you, sir, that to say such a thing is a serious tactical disadvantage on your part."
The Doctor smiled and walked over, slowly, to Strax. He draped his arm around his small shoulders and patted his head fondly. "Benjamin, primitive and unemotional creatures, such as Strax here, cannot comprehend the meaning of poetry. They take it in the literal sense instead of figurative imagery and are unable to understand literary devices. They're stupid when it comes to literature. All the space for meaning in their tiny little brains is used up for pointless information like military strength and opposition."
While Strax tried to process this insult, Benjamin's expression softened. His eyes widened and he raised a finger to point in the Doctor's direction as the realisation hit him.
"What if," said the Doctor, "the only piece of information an alien from a faraway galaxy had on the human race was a simple book of poetry. And instead of truly understanding it, they took everything as literal. When they thought the true weakness of humanity was the human heart – they didn't believe it was the emotional, figurative heart. They believed it was literal. Hence why the first victims were found without hearts."
"Best – the name Best!" Benjamin exclaimed. "They read the name in the poem!"
Strax, still miffed by the insult, concluded, "And that explains why the culprit didn't know how to attack Madame Vastra. She wasn't human."
The Doctor laughed and slapped Strax playfully on his blue armour. "Brilliant, Strax! Not so stupid, after all!"
Benjamin was beaming at their new epiphany. The young man was now leaning against the fireplace, a wide smile spread across his handsome face and his kind eyes crinkled as the grin reached him inside and warmed his heart. They were finally getting somewhere in this investigation. All thanks to the Doctor and Rose.
But now the Doctor was frowning and his eyes were dark and serious. The way he walked over to Benjamin made him feel unsteady; there was something else. Something the Doctor wasn't taking lightly and something Benjamin had a deeply bad feeling about.
"Benjamin," the Doctor started, his voice hollow and low, "this invasion didn't start seven months ago. This has been simmering for a while. Two years, I reckon."
"Two years?"
"Yes. Whoever this was has decided to lie low. When they arrived here they decided to choose one victim. One person to deepen their knowledge on humans before they started to attack others. One person to make sure what they read in the book was correct. Then they waited until the time was right, to call for back up – the shooting star seven months ago."
Benjamin started to shake his head. No. No, not her.
"I think you know who the first victim was, Benjamin," the Doctor whispered, reaching out a hand to the young man.
"No, please," Benjamin pleaded as if the Doctor could change the past.
The Doctor nodded. Resolute. Cold. He needed him to understand. "I'm sorry. So sorry. But it was your mother; Alice Primrose."
Benjamin's legs gave way. The Doctor helped him over to the armchair and let him have a moment for this new piece of information to sink in. It wouldn't be easy, he knew that. But there was more.
"When did you say Lady Carson arrived in town?" he asked delicately.
Benjamin's eyes widened in horror. "Two years ago."
"And she became acquainted with your father straight away?"
"Yes."
"I don't think that's a coincidence, do you? I also don't think it's a coincidence that the TARDIS landed right on her street. She was trying to tell us straight away, the old girl."
Through his heartbreak and confusion, realisation dawned on Benjamin's face. He sat on the edge of his seat, his hands gripping onto the armrests, his eyes staring unblinkingly at the Doctor. "But Elizabeth – Elizabeth's with Lady Carson! She has been all this time! We have to –"
"No," the Doctor interrupted, raising his hand. "Get your coat. I have another plan."
As the Doctor gestured for Strax to follow, Benjamin stood up, looking a little lost. "What about Rose?"
The Doctor, still bristling with irritation, shrugged and turned his back on the two of them. "Rose can look after herself, obviously. Not my problem. We have bigger matters to sort."
The silence that followed his announcement made the Doctor sharply turn back around. When it came to the matter of the deeply complex Rose, and their relationship, he could not fake a lie. He breathed out a heavy and annoyed sigh, throwing Benjamin over his coat and patting Strax on his potato head. "Who am I kidding? Of course we're going to find Rose first. I couldn't go anywhere without her."
Note: I'm sorry, but I just laughed at my own writing: the image of the Doctor praising literature while throwing a book across the room did it. I didn't mean to end it there (well, I did) so suspenseful, but I'll try to update sooner in the next few days!