After Molly left John's room, she headed slowly into her own, sitting down on her mattress. She hated arguing with John; it was, essentially, arguing with the Doctor, and something just seemed so incredibly wrong about that. One doesn't argue with the timeless god who'd seen dynasties fall and traveled to world's end and back. But even since the beginning of her travels with him, the she saw him less as a god and the more she as a man, both a friend she was glad to have and a flawed and conflicted being, one that made mistakes. Still, he was a friend she trusted, and not one that she argued with lightly.
Unfortunately, these fights with John were getting more frequent and more heated. She had lived with John Smith for two months now, and that time had her convinced that he wasn't just using the Time Lord's body; he actually was the Doctor. The Doctor with different memories, thirty-six years' worth of human memories instead of his nine-hundred years' worth of wisdom and heartbreak. Same personality, but changed through naivety and Victorian values.
John had the same passion and general convictions as his Time Lord self, but without the memories and lessons learned over nine hundred years to temper that passion, he was an exceedingly reckless and foolhardy individual. A man dying to do whatever it took to defend his convictions but not understanding the price connected. He wanted so badly to fight in the war, but without his memories of the Time War he had no real understanding of war and what it was like to take a life, and Molly had no way of making him understand.
With a sigh, she pulled the satchel she had taken into town off of her shoulder. It was a simple, brown bag, but she was almost never without it. Inside, she had stored a few things from the modern era – her cell phone, her wallet, a phone charger – some money from Civil War era America, and a few other useful things. But the most important of them all was one thing she was never without, one she didn't want to leave at home and didn't trust John enough not to get rid of.
She took it out slowly, turning it over in her hand. The watch was simple in design, but the front was embellished with an intricate design of circles and lines. It looked like some form of writing, one she'd seen around the TARDIS before, but the TARDIS translation matrix wouldn't translate it for her. Since it was on the Doctor's fob watch, she assumed it was probably a language from his planet. She'd have to ask him about it after this was all over.
The watch contained the Doctor's memories. She knew that the man in the room she'd just left really was the Doctor, but it still felt comforting knowing that part of the man she traveled with, his wisdom, was somewhere safe. "I don't know what to do, Doctor," she confided quietly to the watch. "I'm alone and I'm scared I'm going to lose you, and I don't know how to stop you from going."
The watch was warm in her hands, but there was no reply. She was on her own.
SCENEBREAK
The next few days were tense. The "siblings" tiptoed around each other, neither wanting to fight again but neither willing to back down.
Molly spent most of her time inside her room now, considering it too risky to go outside now that she knew the Family was about. She couldn't do anything to draw attention to them, not when they were so close to the end. Instead, she helped Mrs. Sanders around the shop and kept up to date on gossip. Since the ship landed, there had been plenty of it.
"I think Mr. Coleman might be coming down with something," Mrs. Sanders mentioned off-hand a few days after the big fight with John.
Molly tried to act casual as she probed, "The grocer down the street? How do you reckon?"
"Well, when I saw him earlier, he was acting all funny. You know that man can talk your ear off, but he was being all quiet-like, sniffing and staring. Probably some kind of cold."
The pathologist nodded and murmured in agreement, but internally she digested the information. If her instincts were right, Mr. Coleman had probably been possessed by one of the Family. She had no proof, of course, but the last few months of dangerous travel through time and space had taught her to be wary of coincidences and odd behavior. Right now, there could be no such thing as being too careful.
She did her best to keep John around the house after work, to run less chance of him running into one of the Family. She didn't know how many of the Family there were, or whether they'd be able to tell John was the Doctor upon meeting him, but she wasn't taking any chances.
SCENEBREAK
Several days after their fight, Molly was down in the barber's shop helping out late at night. She was sweeping around one of the chairs in the back when she heard the front door open with the light tinkling of the bell. A late customer, no doubt. She withdrew to the far end of the shop, as far from the front as she could get. Helping around the shop was a great way to burn time, but she tried to avoid the customers as much as she could without seeming suspicious. Any one of them could be part of the Family.
After several minutes, Mrs. Sanders came into the back of the shop, smiling cheerfully as always. It had been a while since she'd heard the door open, and in that time she hadn't heard the customer leaving. "Tricky customer?" she questioned as Mrs. Sanders swept in.
"Hmm? Oh, no dear, that was your brother," the petite old woman explained as she hung up her apron.
Molly blinked in surprise. "John?"
"Oh yes, dear," Mrs. Sanders told her amiably. "He popped out half an hour ago. Didn't say where he was headed, but he had a bag with him."
"A bag?" She didn't know what it meant, but she was starting to get a horrible feeling. Why would John leave late at night without any warning?
Not pausing to say goodbye to Mrs. Sanders, Molly dropped her broom and bolted for the stairs. She clambered up as quickly as she could and pushed past the door into John's room.
The first thing she noticed was that it was clean. Too clean. John, like the Doctor, was not a tidy man. Molly's room was probably the neatest one on the TARDIS, which was cluttered with no end of junk and artifacts. Usually, John's room was very much the same. But now the bed was neatly made, the floor completely clear of clutter. That was all Molly needed to see to know something was very, very wrong.
Heart frozen in fear, Molly approached the bed. A note lay neatly on the sheets, covered in John's untidy scrawl. Molly picked it up with trembling hands.
My dear sister,
You're a clever girl. If you're reading this, you've already guessed what's happened. I mailed in my enlistment to the army, and I've been accepted. I'm leaving on a train this evening to join the 35th PA Infantry. There you go, now you know where to send your letters.
I'm sorry for sneaking out on you like this, but if I'd told you I was going you would have tried to make me stay. If something happens, I don't want your last memory of me to be a fight. We've fought enough in the past days. The war will be over soon, and I'll be back, and we can get on with our lives. Please don't worry about me, Molly. I'll be home before the month is out.
Your brother always, John.
Molly's heart forgot how to beat. No. I can't have lost him. Not now.
She hurtled down the stairs again, pushing past a bewildered Mrs. Sanders as she bolted out of the store. The pathologist sprinted through the emptied streets of Allentown, desperately hoping she could make it to the train station before it was too late.
"Station" was a generous term at best. There was a little booth where people purchased their ticket, then a long wooden platform where you waited for the train to arrive. It wasn't fancy, but it was what the town had. Molly sprinted through the streets as quick as she could towards it, but the low whistle of a train, and the sound of the train departing, told her she was already too late. But still she pushed on.
By the time she reached the station, the train was already gone, leaving a cloud of dust in its wake. Molly stood in the platform, trembling and panting from her run, staring desperately down the tracks. He's gone. I didn't stop him and now he's gone. She leaned over, hands on her knees, trying desperately to get air back into her lungs.
As she recovered, the pathologist began to notice people staring at her. Molly straightened, dusting off her dress nervously. She didn't honestly care what these stuck-up Victorians thought of her, but if any of the Family were about, they would have seen her desperate rush for the station. She could only hope none of them had. She had bigger problems at the moment.
SCENEBREAK
Molly made her way straight from the train station to the woods. She needed to know where John had gone, and she had a feeling a simple Internet search wouldn't cut it. She was going to need help.
She cut quickly through the woods to the shed where the TARDIS lay concealed. After fumbling with the lock for a bit, she was able to push her way into the blue box, shutting the door hurriedly behind her.
Once she was sure the doors were locked securely, she turned to the satchel on her shoulder, digging quickly through the contents until she reached her cell phone. She hesitated a moment before dialing, but she needed help, and he was the only one she'd be able to ask. Reluctantly she tapped in the number she hadn't called in months.
There were a few short rings, then the short click of someone picking up. "Hello?"
Molly smiled slightly at the familiar voice. "Mrs. Hudson, hi."
"Molly dear!" The woman's voice was full of it's usual friendly cheer. Molly had only met Sherlock's landlady a few times, but she had always seemed like such a sweet old lady. "I haven't seen you in ages. How are you? The boys said you've been traveling."
"Er, yeah," Molly agreed distractedly. "Listen, Mrs. Hudson, I need to talk to Sherlock."
Mrs. Hudson hesitated. "Ooo, I don't know that now's the best time, dear. The boys are in with a client."
Molly rubbed her temple, trying to keep her irritation to a minimum. "Just trust me. He'll want to talk to me. Can you just put him on, please?"
There was a slight sigh on the other end, then Mrs. Hudson agreed, "Alright, just a tic." There was slight static as the phone was carried, quiet murmurs in the background, then the phone was picked up again.
As usual, Sherlock cut right past the usual greetings. "I'm busy," he informed her brusquely.
At the detective's curt dismissal, her patience snapped. "Listen Sherlock, I have been stuck in Civil War era America for the last two months, looking after a Doctor who can't remember who he is, hiding from an enemy I don't know, and now the Doctor's run off to get himself killed in war, and I have no idea where to find him. I need your help to save the Doctor and that's a damn sight more important than whatever's keeping you entertained, alright?" The words came out in a sharp, angry rush, two months' worth of frustration bubbling over. She'd never been so sharp with Sherlock Holmes before, and she was surprised at her own anger. A few months' travel with the Doctor had clearly given her a bit of backbone.
There were a few moments of silence on the other line. Molly waited nervously, biting her lip. Part of her regretted her outburst, but the other stood by her words. She had suffered plenty because of Sherlock Holmes, and now he was going to help her whether he liked it or not.
"Tell me everything from the start, don't leave out any details." The detective's dismissive tone had turned sharp with interest. Molly felt a rush of relief. She'd caught his attention.
Quickly, she explained her situation with John Smith and the Family of Blood. She tried to be both concise and detailed, but Sherlock didn't interrupt her at any point, so she assumed she was explaining herself well enough. "He said he was going to join the 35th PA Infantry. I know you've got government connections. Can you find out where the infantry's going to fight – er, did fight, for you? There's no way I'm going to find that online."
"Please, if you're going to call me from the past, at least give me a challenge," the detective snarked, the sound of typing in the background.
"This isn't about you being entertained, Sherlock," Molly replied testily, "this is about helping the Doctor."
He didn't reply to her curtness, instead drawing into silence as the keys tapped away in the background. After a few moments, he told her, "All I need is the precise date."
Molly felt a rush of relief. She gave him the date, then waited as keys typed in the background. Finally, Sherlock told her, "The 35th Infantry will only fight in one more battle, in Richmond, Virginia, from April 2nd to April 4th. It's the battle that wraps up the war, a decisive Union victory that captures the Confederate capitol of Richmond, the war ends five days later. If he's in that Infantry, the Time Lord should be there. Do you want a list of the dead and wounded?"
Molly shook her head quickly. "No, definitely not. Time can be rewritten, but I don't want to take any chances. So, Richmond. That battle's only a few days away. How do I get there?"
Suddenly, an idea came to her. "Hold on." Not waiting for a response, she set down the phone and headed to one of the hallways. A few paces in she found the closet where she'd stored his jacket and suit after he'd changed into more period-suitable wear. She grabbed the coat, digging through the spacious pockets until she emerged with the two things she needed; the sonic screwdriver, and the psychic paper.
Items in hand, she hurried back to the phone, cupping it between her cheek and her shoulder. "Sherlock, what can you tell me about female nurses during the Civil War?"
Sherlock was quick to supply her with the information she needed. There were indeed female nurses during the Civil War, and they didn't have a set uniform. A plain black dress and a white apron would do. All she'd need to do was use the psychic paper to sneak in, find John, and either convince him away from the battle or have him open the watch. Simple.
After thanking Sherlock for his help, Molly hung up and headed for the TARDIS wardrobe. There was bound to be something in there that would work for her disguise.
She left the TARDIS after she found what she needed. Molly had everything planned, but she hasn't noticed eyes watching her at the train station. Nor had she noticed the one who had followed her through the woods, the one now staring at the blue box with hungry eyes.
Oh god. I can't with what just happened. It happened two days ago and I'm still freaking excited.
(I apologize for those who don't care about my petty rambling and are here about the story only. I recommend skipping to the second-to-last paragraph to avoid my rambling.)
So, I mentioned I was going to Disney World, right? Well, I also went to Harry Potter World for the very first time. It was totally awesome! I saw all the shops in Hogsmeade, tried Butterbeer (didn't particularly like it, but whatever), went on the ride in the castle. It was so surreal. But the best part is the one I'm about to rant about.
At Ollivanders, for those of you who don't know, they take a group of people inside and select one to be "chosen" by a wand in this really cool display. After that, the rest of the group gets sent inside the actual shop to buy a wand, rather than getting chosen. I go in thinking they're going to pick one of the younger kids in the group, right?
Nope!
The guy in the shop, who was a dead-on Ollivander, chose seventeen-year- old me to get chosen by a wand. I got pulled up in front of everyone, tried two wands, one of which started making the drawers rattle, the other which made lightning strike overhead, before getting chosen by an Ivy wand with Dragon Heartstring core. That was probably the coolest thing that's ever happened to me.
Back to the actual story, this here is the end of Human Nature. The story will pick up in the next episode, The Family of Blood. I'm home from vacation now, so the story can resume its regular updates. (oh hell, who am I kidding, I was writing and updating regularly the whole bloody vacation.)
I also want to address what is factual in this episode. Allentown, Pennsylvania is a real place, but I made up what it looks like. The battle and capture of Richmond, VA was real, as are all the dates listed here, but the 35th PA Infantry is not (though for all I know, there could have been an infantry with that name.) There were indeed female nurses at the time.