The Doctor parked the TARDIS in its usual spot behind Sarah Jane's house before quietly letting himself inside. He crept past Jack, passed out on the sofa from too much nog, and took care not to rouse anyone else who was tucked away snugly in their beds. He made his way up to Alex's room and shook her awake.
"Alex. Alex, wake up."
She groaned, looking up at him with no short amount of irritation in her bleary eyes. "What's up, Doc? And it had better be presents because otherwise I'll throttle you myself."
"Get up, let's go!" he whispered, excitedly.
"Go?" She was so confused. "Go where?"
"Anywhere! Got the TARDIS idling outside, thought we could take a little trip."
She looked at him closely. "Doc, are you alright? What's happened?"
He blinked, having forgotten how perceptive she was. "Nothing's happened, just want to treat my little girl to an adventure. Be spontaneous."
She nodded. "That is like you, yes. But I don't know, feels like something's wrong."
"Nothing's wrong!" he insisted.
"Yes there is." She was suddenly very awake and sat up straight. "Please tell me."
He swallowed, hard. "I just wanted one more trip with you. Didn't want to just disappear."
"Dad, you're scaring me."
That just made it harder for him. "I was told some time ago that I'm supposed to...well, I wouldn't be able to come back. But I promised my daughter I'd be here for Christmas so I'm here for Christmas. Prophesy be damned!"
She just stared at him for a moment, eyes welling with tears. "Did someone die? Was it...was it Ginger?"
"What?" he asked, genuinely surprised. "Why would it be Ginger? I haven't even seen her."
"I just...I had a nasty feeling that...But this has nothing to do with her?"
"Absolutely nothing. I mean, sure, we kissed and it ruined everything but-"
"Wait, Doc, slow down, you kissed her? When did this happen?"
"Oh ages ago. Doesn't matter now. What matters is getting to hang out with my daughter on Christmas Eve. "
"As much as I'd love that...I'm getting the feeling that there's somewhere you're supposed to be. And you're avoiding it."
"Yes, for some time now, but-"
"Then it must be important. That means you have to go. Don't worry about any of us. I'm sure it'll all be fine."
"What does that mean?" he asked her. "Alex, is there any particular reason why I should be worried? Maybe about Ginger, in particular?"
She hesitated again, clearly torn. "Look, it's just that I've seen something like that before. But I'm sure Ginger wouldn't."
"Wouldn't what?" Then he remembered something. "Oh this is...this is about you friend, isn't it? Dani? The one you started telling me about?"
She nodded. "She wasn't really my friend, though. Might've exaggerated a bit. She was just someone I'd see round at school. We weren't close."
"What happened to her?" He was getting nervous, though he couldn't pin point why.
"Doc-"
"Alex, what happened to her? You said it ended badly."
"Well, Doc...she's dead. She was so traumatized by what happened to her when she was younger that she got involved in a relationship before she'd dealt with it and ended up pushing everyone away and then...well, she killed herself."
He felt a sinking feeling in the pit of his stomach and got to his feet.
She stood up as well. "But Doc, you said you had somewhere to be. You don't need to be worrying about us."
"What about Christmas?" he asked her.
She looked at him sadly. "If you have to miss Christmas...that's okay. I understand. It's practically Christmas anyway."
He couldn't help but wonder if this had been what the Corsair had meant about her being a 'moderating influence'. Maybe this was the path she'd been trying to set him on. He cupped Alex's cheek with his right hand and kissed her forehead. "Little Alex Mitchell, all grown up. My brave girl."
A few tears leaked from her eyes. "Do what you feel is right," she said. "I know you will. You always do." She didn't know what she meant by that, whether she was trying to tell him to follow his destiny or go check on Ginger. Maybe both.
...
He went back to the TARDIS, fully intending to follow her advice and go meet the Ood. Then he realized she hadn't actually said to do that. She'd just said to do what he felt was right. That was so ambiguous, that she could've meant anything. He knew what he felt was right and, hell, he wasn't quite ready to die.
...
The world seemed eerily quiet as he landed the TARDIS outside the theatre at 6 AM Christmas morning. He stepped over the fresh snow that crunched underfoot and sparkled like little shards of glass, and thought of how the thickly falling snow reminded him too much of ashes. He used the sonic screwdriver to let himself inside, not really having a plan for what he'd do once in there. He knew she didn't sleep much, but he thought she seemed like the type who might just be asleep at this early hour. It wasn't like she was likely to be up unwrapping presents.
As soon as he entered the auditorium, he heard the unmistakable sounds of music playing softly through the hush of the building. That had to be a good sign. Meant she was here and awake. He couldn't find an exact location the music was emanating from, as it was being blasted from the speakers. She could be anywhere in here and remote controlling the sound system from her phone.
"Ginger?" he called to her, still feeling uneasy. It was quite dark in here and he didn't hear any signs of movement. "Ginger, look, I know you don't want to see me but...Well, can we talk?"
Still no response. That concerned him more than anything. Ginger wasn't one to hide, she would've come out by now to snap his head off for violating her terms. The only sound was the song playing, and he was becoming concerned with the content in the lyrics.
"I don't want to disappoint you all,
Because you held me up before I fall,
You're my unconditional lovers,
You're my eyes and you're my sunny days,
But when my pen hit the paper I tried
To mold and sculpt and shape her and make her lovely
It wasn't good enough, it wasn't good enough."
"Ginger, seriously, I'm just here to talk," he shouted again, before noticing a faint light coming from the tech booth.
Of course, he thought. She'll be up there.
The music kept playing on.
"I tried to numb it,
But it still hurts to touch."
He reached the ladder, the same one where he'd first laid eyes on her all those months ago.
"And it hurts to touch-"
"Ginger?" he said, standing on the loft now, just outside the tech booth which he now remembered was basically her equivalent of a bedroom. He knocked softly on the door, as if asking permission to enter. Just trying to be polite.
"And it hurts to touch-"
"You in there?"
"And it hurts to touch-"
"Sorry, I know you don't want to talk to me-"
"And it hurts to touch-"
"And it's a bit early-"
"And it hurts to touch."
"Ginger?" he asked, knocking with more urgency. "Can I come in? Ginger, it's me. I wanted to check on you because I'm worried about you. And I know it's my fault. I'm sorry. If you don't say something in the next second I'm going to come in, okay?" Still nothing. "Alright, I'm coming in." He turned the knob to enter, letting his eyes adjust to the low light of only one nearly spent candle on top of the mini fridge.
"And it hurts to be here-"
"Ginger?" he asked, in a low voice.
"I don't want to be here-"
His eyes landed on a shape on the bed.
"And it hurts to be here-"
A human-shaped shape.
"Tonight."
"Ginger!" he shouted, panic rising as he realized what he was seeing. He flipped on the overhead light to rush to the side of the bed.
"And it hurts to be here (suicidal tendencies)-"
Her hair was matted to her face with sweat, and she seemed to be breathing - but only barely.
"I don't want to be here (drain creativity)-"
"What did you do?" he asked, grabbing her by the arms. His hands came away sticky with blood. "You're bleeding! What did you do?" Her eyes fluttered open, unfocused as if not really seeing him.
"And it hurts to be here-"
"Doctor?" she slurred, her voice faint.
"Tonight."
"We need to get help," he said, trying his best not to panic. Panicking wouldn't help her.
"And it hurts to be here (suicidal tendencies)-"
"No!" she said, faintly. "Leave me alone. Let me go."
He began trying to pick her up. "I'm not doing that. You're not thinking clearly."
"This is the clearest I've ever been in my life. Just want to disappear."
"I don't want to be here (drain creativity)-"
"No, you're not doing this. I'm not going to let you be another one of my consequences."
"As if the whole universe revolves around you," her voice was getting faint, but she still found the time to be sarcastic.
"Goodnight-"
"This was a long time coming. An inevitability. So let it go. Let me have what I want, just once-"
"My love."
Ginger started coughing and shaking, and within seconds she had gone completely limp in his arms.
"GINGER!"
...
"You're up early," Mickey Smith said. "Don't tell me you were up trying to make me breakfast in bed?"
Martha Jones turned away from the coffee pot with a smile. "You wish. It's Christmas morning, I can't help but wake up early. Besides, mum will have made breakfast when we go over later. It'll offend her if we've already eaten."
"Well it was worth a try," he grinned back at her. "I'm actually glad you're up. I had something I wanted to give you."
She raised her eyebrows. "Now? Thought we were saving the gifts for later on."
"Well this one is special," he replied, nervously. "Wanted to do it while we still have some time alone."
"Right," Martha said. "Especially seeing as we have to clear out of here right after the New Year right?"
Mickey had surprised her by renting out this Airbnb for a few weeks around Christmas. He'd said that it was so they could have some time alone instead of having to stay at one of their cramped apartments.
"Yeah, that's sort of the thing," he laughed to himself. "You like it here?"
"I do," she agreed. "It's cozy."
"Would you like to stay longer?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well I sort of...lied about it being a bnb. I actually saved up and started renting this place for us." He reached in his pocket and pulled out a set of keys. "And I wanted to know if maybe you wanted to take the next step and, well, move in with me."
She was so thrown off by the offer that she was unable to process it right away. Before she could answer, her cellphone rang.
"Sorry, let me just..." She picked the phone up off the counter and peered at the screen.
"Let it go to voicemail," Mickey pressed.
"It's...the Doctor," Martha said, surprised. "Sorry, I have to take this. Could be important. I'll just be a second." She answered it. "Hello?"
"Martha, where are you?" The Doctor was speaking so loudly that Mickey could hear him from a couple feet away. "I'm outside your apartment and I need your help!" He didn't sound angry, just...actually terrified. Martha wasn't sure that made it better.
"Doctor, slow down, what's happened?"
"There's no time! Where are you?"
Martha glanced at Mickey before answering. "I'm not at the apartment. I'll give you the address. Park around back." She gave him the address and hung up. "I'm so sorry, it was the Doctor. I think he's in trouble."
"He always is," Mickey said, with just a trace of bitterness. Then his eyes widened. "Wait, is it Rose?"
"He didn't say."
...
The TARDIS arrived within minutes and Martha rushed out to greet the Doctor. She nearly collided into him head on as he was trying to rush out to find her, he was in such a hurry. The near collision didn't even phase her and he immediately took her by the arm and started rushing her further back in the TARDIS.
"I'm sorry, I know it's Christmas, there just wasn't anyone else I could turn to-"
"Doctor, what's happened?" She was completely alarmed by how out of sorts he was. She'd seen him emotional before, but she seemed to have caught him in the middle of a breakdown.
"It's my friend, something's happened to her, I need a doctor."
"And naturally, you think of me," she said.
"Right," he agreed. "I can do simple stuff but human physiology is slightly different and this is beyond what I know. The nanobots even have trouble responding - I think she's been drinking. Alcohol has an inhibiting effect on nanobots. I think she's lost a lot of blood."
"Who's lost a lot of blood?" Mickey had just appeared at their heels. "Is it Rose?"
"No it's not Rose," the Doctor said, impatiently. "We don't have time for this, Mickey, so stay out of the way."
"You can't take her to a hospital?" Martha asked.
"No, no, I need someone I can trust! She's in some sort of trouble and I need you to be discreet, please, can you do that?"
"Of course I can. Anything you need."
He led her into the sick bay where a young woman with short red hair lay barely breathing on the cot. Martha picked a stethoscope off the table and went straight to work. "This isn't good, she barely has a pulse. You said she's been drinking?"
"She smells like it."
"Yeah she does." Martha got to work examining her arms, which were still bleeding. "The good news is she hasn't lost much blood. These cuts aren't too deep and didn't really nick the major arteries. They appear self-inflicted though. Is she an addict? Because I can stabilize her, but I'm not qualified to provide recovery care to addicts."
"What?" The Doctor was shocked by this line of questioning. "No, of course not. What makes you think that?"
"She doesn't appear to have any track marks." Martha dropped the arm and started prepping. "But she smells strongly of alcohol and cough syrup. Humans can get high off cough syrup. That itself is already dangerous, but combining it with alcohol depresses the respiratory system and has a high risk of overdose. It's possible she didn't know that. I'm going to need Nalaxone and intravenous fluids, stat. I'm most likely going to need to pump her stomach as well, but she's going to need an IV drip of fluids." The Doctor just stood there, frozen like a deer in the headlights. Martha snapped her fingers in his face. "Hey! Hey! She needs your help, so are you going to stand there or are you going to save her life?"
"Right, yes," the Doctor snapped out of it. "What medication did you need?"
"Nalaxone," Martha replied, as the Doctor ran to the medicine cabinet. She knew the TARDIS would instantly stock whatever they needed. "It will counteract the Opioids in her system."
"Opioids? You said it was cough medicine! She wouldn't use-"
"Doctor, there are low levels of Opioids in cough medicine," she said, patiently. "Which I'm sure you'd know if you were thinking clearly. Has she been having seizures?"
"No."
"Good. I could start her on some stuff to prevent them, but I'm hesitant to put her on benzos if she's an addict."
"She's not," he replied, coming around with a bottle and a syringe.
She took them from him and began filling the syringe. Just then, the heart monitor Ginger was hooked up to started flatlining.
"Never mind, we don't have time for this," she shoved the medicine back in his hands. "We're losing her."
Martha began CPR as the Doctor stood there, completely frozen. He had only one thought that kept circling around his head:
I'm losing her.