I apologize for the wait. I was working on revising the last chapter after I was contacted about how I was portraying the mild cases of PTSD Rose and the Doctor had developed after 42. The user offered me advice and suggestions and I made changes accordingly. You do not have to go back and re-read though you might as well. :)
BTW.
BULLSHIT ALERT.
I know many of you have seen that article about John Hurt playing the Ninth Doctor.
NOTHING, I REPEAT, NOTHING IN THAT ARTICLE COMES FROM THE BBC. IT IS NOT CREDIBLE. THEIR ONLY INFORMATION COMES FROM AN UNNAMED "SOURCE." DO NOT TAKE WHAT IT SAYS SERIOUSLY.
Martha had adrenaline buzzing through her while she got ready to go after the Doctor. She wasn't sure what kind of environment she'd face out there but she thought it would be best to be prepared. She put on a pair of jeans and a pair study black boots she found in the wardrobe plus a black short-sleeve shirt and her red leather jacket. She brushed her hair back into a bun and tucked her TARDIS key in her pocket. She felt like she was dressing for battle.
For all she know she could be heading into one. The Doctor was many things, but he was not careless enough to stay out this long when Rose was sick. Something was keeping him away. She hoped it was only law enforcement and not something worse, something that would take a rescue mission. She couldn't do something like that on her own and Rose was in no condition to help. She'd need to recover some first and to do that she needed medicine.
Martha grabbed a bag she'd found weeks before in the wardrobe that must have belonged to another Time Lord (Lady?) at one time because it was bigger on the inside. She went around her room looking for anything valuable she could use to trade for medicine or medical aid if it came to that. She did a quick search of the wardrobe as well and the TARDIS willingly led her to a section of clothes that were made with fine fabrics and adorned in gems. She took one dress and one jacket and lowered them into her bag on their hangers, hooking them on a pouch and shut her bag.
Next she went to the kitchen and got herself a bowl of cereal and another grape Popsicle for Rose. She ate at Rose's bedside and explained the plan.
"If we're near a town or something I'll ask around and then I'll try the police—he may have been arrested or something."
Rose smiled at that.
"If not, we'll have to wait until you're better before we can do anything. But I've got some stuff in my bag I can barter with if it comes to that. I just hope they're civilized enough to have antibiotics."
"And if they're not?"
"There's always herbal remedies, but let's hope for antibiotics, yeah?"
After breakfast, Martha brought out a ventilator. It was a nice sleek box from the 23rd century and could hook onto the side of the bed. "Some patients with pneumonia can find it difficult to breathe," she explained as she set the mask where could grab it quickly if she had to. She didn't think Rose's case was that bad, but it was better to be safe than sorry. "If you need to, just press the green button and it'll turn on."
"Okay," she said.
"Okay." Martha smiled tightly and patted her hand. There was a light thump on the counter and she looked up. It was a book. She went to retrieve it. "Looks like the TARDIS has provided entertainment."
"What's it called?"
"The Fault in Our Stars."
Rose shook her head. "Never heard of it."
"Me neither." Martha opened the cover and looked at the publication date. "2012. That explains it. Well, here you are, then. Something to keep you occupied until you fall asleep."
Rose accepted the book and turned it over to read the back cover.
"I'll see you when I get back." Martha said.
"Thank you."
"Any time."
She adjusted Rose's covers once more and left the infirmary.
In the console room, the TARDIS had an oxygen mask and two small oxygen packs and waiting. Each one had a two-hour battery life, which would hopefully be enough. The mask covered her entire face, connected to the filter by a single tube. She clipped one filter to each side of her belt, adjusted her jacket and bag, then headed for the door. She set her watch to go off in an hour and fifty-five minutes. After that if she hadn't reached any form of civilization she'd have to head back to the TARDIS.
She took a deep breath and pulled the door open. Outside the air looked thick, like it was full of fog, except there was perfect visibility. There was no grass on the ground so she figured they were on some sort of asteroid or maybe a moon and she felt warmth filtering through the TARDIS's protective shields.
"Take care of her," she ordered the ship. "And if worst comes to worse, take her to Sarah Jane."
She reached down and switched the pack on and took a deep breath. She felt the cool, filtered air flow through her nose and as she exhaled she stepped out of the TARDIS. She pulled the door shut behind her and circled the TARDIS to get a look of the land. Off to the right, she could see something like a town about two miles away and she sighed in relief. That had to be where he'd gone. She checked the pack's levels once more and then set off at a jog.
Months with the Doctor had given her stamina she didn't know she was capable of. She didn't flat out run to conserve her oxygen but she was able to keep at a brisk jog and her breathing stayed steady.
The sky was a funny shade of blue, hinging towards green. She supposed it had to do with the atmospheric composition. There were no clouds, either, and the barren land suggested there wasn't much, if any, precipitation here. But the fact there was a settlement meant this bit of space rock had a relatively stable orbit around a star. Unless this was just a bad part of the planet, the locals were probably colonists or their descendants, which meant they're home world had been advanced enough for space travel. They probably would have developed some sort of antibiotics and sent them with the brave pioneers.
It took her about ten minutes to reach the town. She estimated there were several thousand people living there. Although the word 'people' might be a bit loose. The citizens all seemed to be of the same species: humanoids with varying shades of olive and dark skin and silvery or black hair. They all eyed Martha with surprise and a hint of suspicion. Some with more than just a bit. She matched their physical features well enough, but the town was so small they probably all knew each other and she was obviously an outsider with that mask on her face.
She wandered into the mercantile district, figuring this would be where the Doctor would have come. The Doctor said if you wanted to know about anything going on around a town like this to try the market first. Isolated as they were, everyone had to come through here once every few days at least for supplies.
"And who might you be?"
Martha turned around. A slim olive-skinned with silver hair was staring straight at her from the doorway of a pub. She pointed to herself hesitantly and the woman nodded.
"I-I'm Martha," she said and walked towards her. "You?"
"Per'rit."
"…Parrot?"
"Per'rit," she corrected with a frown. "It's not the right day for a convoy to come through and no one on this moon needs a breathing system to walk around in the open. So who are you?"
"I'm looking for someone, a friend of mine. I think he might have come to this town yesterday."
"Tall, skinny, pale man in a brown coat?"
"Yes!" She exhaled in relief. "Oh my God, where is he?"
Per'rit looked her up and down slowly, rubbing her lips together. "You're not here for trouble, are you?"
"No, honestly, no, and neither was he."
"Oh, really? He tried to steal several hundred kirtz worth of parts from Kux. Sounds like trouble if you ask me."
"Oh that bloody alien." Martha seethed. "Please tell me he was arrested and not shot or something."
"No, he wasn't shot."
"Well, that's something. Really, he's not a bad man, he must've just forgotten to bring money when he left the ship. Our friend is sick and he tends to not think very rationally when she's hurt."
Per'rit looked worried. "Sick? How sick?"
"To be honest, very. She could die."
"We have two physicians here. If she's in danger of dying, they'd be willing to treat her with little compensation."
"That won't work." Martha tapped the oxygen mask. "She and I are the same species and we can't breathe the air here. So it's probably safe to assume your people couldn't breathe inside our ship."
Per'rit nodded slowly. "Your friend was arrested, you'll find him at the lockup. Turn around and take a left. Turn right on Er'rs street and a left on Sopi. It's the big green building, you can't miss it."
"Thank you, thank you." Martha smiled at her gratefully and ran back they way she'd come.
Ignoring the looks she was getting, Martha raced through the town, following the directions Per'rit had given her. She spotted the deep green building from several streets over and laughed in relief when she reached the door. She took a moment to catch her breath then pulled the door open and stepped inside.
It looked like the waiting room in a small office. The walls were pastel blue, several pictures hung from them in wooden frames. A few chairs were placed along one wall, a plump woman sat in one, reading a magazine. A simple reception desk occupied most of the space, managed by a dark-skinned man with a shock of silver hair. He looked up when she entered and his eyebrows shot towards his hairline.
"What in the name of Is'sara are you wearing, child?" he demanded.
"I am not child, thank you." she rested her hands on the desk. "I'm here for a friend of mine; I was told he was arrested yesterday. Tall skinny bloke, pale skin, wild brown hair, brown coat, big gob—apparently he tried to steal something."
"Ah." The man made a face. "Him, yes." He held up a small black box and pressed a series of numbers. An image shot up from the tiny little dome on the top. The man touched the corner of the hologram screen and a series of information in a thing, squiggly language scrolled past.
Hologram screens were always slow in translating. It was quite annoying sometimes.
"Can you tell me his real name? He's only given us his alias."
"His name is the Doctor."
"Oh, that's actually his name? All right, he's been charged with theft and resisting arrest. The sentence is three weeks in prison and then he will have to work to pay back half the cost of what he stole. It will be a few months," he added for her benefit.
"Oh, no, no, no, no. We can't wait a few months. We can't even wait a few weeks for his sentence to be up." She reached up to put her hands over her face but they connected with the front of her mask instead. "You don't understand he has to come back today. Isn't there anything we can do?"
The man lifted his eyebrows and considered her for a moment. "What is your name, species, and planet of origin?"
"Martha Jones, human, Earth—um, I mean, Sol 3."
"Very well, have a seat please. I'll be back." He gestured to the chairs along the wall.
She walked over to the chairs and sank down into one. The woman with the magazine was staring at her. Martha looked up for a moment and wondered if she could see how weary she was. She turned away and put her head in her hands, which was more difficult than it sounded with that mask on her face. She waited silently for several minutes. That woman kept sneaking glances at her, staring openly when Martha checked the levels on her oxygen pack.
A few more silent minutes passed and then the door on the opposite wall opened.
The man returned with another officer. He was tall with black hair and skin darker than hers, wearing the same brown uniform as the other man. He looked severe and she was genuinely worried for her safety for a moment.
But then his eyes found her, took in her appearance, and he smiled friendlily at her. "Martha Jones? My name is Tyrin. You're here about our alien thief."
She stood up. "Yes, I am."
"Might I ask what your relation to him is?"
"We…we're just travellers. Friends."
He sighed. "Well, that's unfortunate."
"Why?" she asked.
"There was a process we could have gone through, but you have to be related to the accused to sign the release papers."
"What about married couples?"
The officer was not amused. "If you're thinking of marrying him just to get him out, nice try, but it's been done before."
"Oh, no, not me, I meant—" She stopped abruptly, an idea forming. She let out a long sigh. "I didn't mean me. He's already married. Her name's Rose. I'm their friend and I travel with them. Rose is back on our ship right now. When he didn't come back yesterday she sent me to find him."
"Well, in that case, if you return to your ship and bring her here, I'm sure we can get this sorted quickly."
"I can't. Rose would've come with me if she could've. She's very sick and I'm a physician so I've been doing my best to take care of her, but we don't have anything on board that can help her that I know of. All the labels are written in the Doctor's native language and I can't read it. We've never been in a position before where he wasn't able to translate for me."
Tyrin considered her for a moment. "What is she ill with?"
"Pneumonia."
He shook his head. "I don't know of any such thing."
"It's an upper-respiratory infection that can make us very sick. She can't make the trip here and the Doctor was repairing our ship—that's why he tried to take the parts—so we can't move any closer. Please, I know you've got no reason to believe me, but you've got to."
"I believe you. You don't look like a liar, Martha." he sighed. "But the law is the law. Unless his wife or some other relative is here to negotiate for his freedom and sign the papers we cannot do anything. Does he have any kin you can contact?"
"No, we're all he has."
"Then, I'm sorry, there's nothing I can do. But if you can pay off his debt he will not have to work to pay it back himself. In which case he will be freed in three weeks time."
"Don't you understand? We don't have three weeks!" she shouted. Tyrin looked surprised. The man behind the desk was watching her intently. She sucked in a sharp breath through her nose and exhaled slowly. "I'm sorry. You don't understand. If left untreated, pneumonia can kill. She could die. If she dies, he—oh, I don't even want to think about it."
"I can't change the law," he told her gently.
"I know, I know… Can I at least see him? Maybe he can tell me if there's something onboard I can use."
"Now that," said Tyrin, "I can do."
Before they'd let her into the holding area, he made her empty her bag. They were already aware of the whole bigger on the inside thing from the Doctor and she had to hold it upside down and shake to prove there was nothing else hidden within. As she was reloading her bag she explained her plan to use the items to barter for money or medicine if she'd had to. Tyrin seemed to approve of her resourcefulness and told her that the jacket alone could probably fetch more than the debt owed. Add the dress and she'd possibly enough to actually buy the parts he took as well.
"But I do not understand. If you don't have any currency, why didn't he think to do this instead of stealing?" he asked. "We are used to bartering here."
"Because he is one of the smartest men you'll ever meet but sometimes he overlooks the most basic social etiquettes. It's like babysitting a wunderkind. I don't know how Rose puts up with him."
Tyrin led her back into the holding area, which turned out to be a single hallway of cells. Instead of bars they had walls of glass, probably impenetrable or else the Doctor would already be free, and only two of them appeared to be occupied. The third cell they came to was occupied by none other than the skinny Time Lord himself, wearing a snug black shirt, trousers, and simple black shoes. He was lying on the floor with his legs propped up on the wall and he appeared to be mouthing something.
"What is he doing?" he asked.
Martha shook her head.
Tyrin slid a panel in the glass open. "What are you doing?"
"Well, since you've neglected to provide me any sort of entertainment, I'm trying to keep myself occupied. And if you must know, I am currently calculating the total amount of each gas in the air. I'm almost done. Couldn't you at least give me a game of Sudoku or Kall Cheiks? You do play Kall Cheiks here, don't you? You're Kall colonists, after all. Oh, wait. Left pocket of my jacket, there's a megaminx in there—it's a dodecahedron with lots of colors—if you could be so kind as to bring it to me."
"You've got a visitor."
"Oh?" The Doctor craned his neck to see. Quick as a flash, he was off the wall and on his feet. "Well, it's about time! I expected you to turn up hours ago."
"You complete arse!" she snarled, smacking her palm against the glass. "I swear to God, if you weren't in there I would slap you into your next life!"
Despite the thick glass protecting him, the Doctor took a step away from the furious female. "Martha, calm down."
"Don't you tell me to calm down!" she screeched. "A few hours, you said! We've been worried sick!"
"I'm sorry."
"You better be. I just can't believe you'd go and get yourself arrested knowing full well your wife is sick. …She's gotten worse, Doctor," she added quietly.
"Worse," he repeated flatly. Thankfully, he didn't question the 'wife' bit.
"She's running a fever of thirty-nine point nine last I checked. She's been throwing up, pale as a ghost, her blood pressure's a bit low, her lungs sound full, she's coughing up mucus, and she's having trouble breathing."
Understanding dawned on his face and she saw terror in his eyes. He closed the remaining distance between himself in the glass and leaned his arm against it. "And the TARDIS hasn't brought anything out?"
"No."
"Then there's nothing onboard that would be of use."
"There might be something," she countered. "Except all the labels are written in bloody Gallifreyan. You were supposed to translate them, remember? This is all your fault, you know. I can't believe you let her go so long without proper protection against the elements. Now she's got pneumonia and you're in jail!"
The Doctor looked at Tyrin. "You've got to let me out."
"No," he said.
"She could die."
Tyrin pressed his lips together. "There is only one way you could be released before your sentence is served. Martha has several items with her she could sell to earn the money you owe Kux. However, to negotiate your release and sign the papers, you'd need your wife or any other relative."
"But Rose can't make the trip here." Martha added.
"So we go to her," the Doctor said. He looked between them. "You and anyone else who needs to be there come to our ship and Martha can bring her outside to you. It's not far."
"That would be easier."
"Well, it's a bit unorthodox," Tyrin said after a moment, "but this is a special circumstance. …If Kux can be convinced to make the journey, then I don't see why not."
"Except, don't we still need those parts you filched?" Martha asked.
The Doctor nodded.
"I'll see what I can do."
Tyrin would spend the next hour contacting the vendor the Doctor had stolen from about the proposition and, hopefully, getting him to agree to go along with it, as well as organizing the required paperwork, and official transportation. Martha, meanwhile, headed back to the mercantile district to find the shop Tyrin said would be her best bet for trading the items she'd brought.
Luck was on her side. The shop was open and the vendor, a plump dark woman named Yis'si, was more than happy to do business with her. Once she'd explained the oxygen mask and bigger-on-the-inside bag, of course.
She spread the sky blue dress out on the counter first and waited patiently while Yis'si looked it over, checking the design, fabrics, and stitching, as well as the veracity of the many precious stones on the fabric. When the woman was satisfied, Martha pulled out the jacket, which was only a few shades darker than the dress, and Yis'si inspected it as well.
"How much were you wanting?" Yis'si asked as she peered at one of the jacket sleeves. So Martha explained the situation as best she could.
"They're a bit worn, but this is quality work. I'll give you nine hundred for both. Do you have anything else?"
Martha nodded and pulled a necklace from her bag. The chain was black and on the end was a single oval ruby nestled into a medallion of ornate gold. It was hers, something she'd found at a market a few weeks prior and she'd be sad to see it go, but she could always make the Doctor take her back for another since it was his fault she had to part with it in the first place.
"My, my, you certainly have many jewels. Is it custom to be decorated in jewels on your planet?"
"In a way. Having a lot is a sign of wealth and class."
"Are you wealthy, then?"
"No, but the Doctor and Rose have acquired many things on their travels." She nodded to the dress and jacket. "Though, this one is mine. It's from Pérsa Major."
"May I?"
Martha nodded and the woman lifted the pendant in her hand. "It is quite beautiful. Such craftsmanship… Might I suggest you take this down the road? My cousin, Brenan, owns a jewelry store and I think he would be interested in this. You tell him Yis'si said it's worth at least a thousand and if he tries to talk you any lower, you come back here."
Yis'si gave her the money for the clothes and sent her on her way with a smile. Up the road, Martha introduced herself to Brenan and explained that she was helping her friend pay off a debt he owed. Then she showed him the necklace and repeated what Yis'si said. He was about to give her 1200 but then she mentioned the planet of origin and he gave her 1500.
With the money safely ensconced in her bag, Martha raced back towards the station. As she ran, she checked her watch to see how she was doing on time. She had about an hour to go, and considering the extra air she'd used up while running, she figured she could make it another forty five minutes before having to switch packs. If Tyrin had been successful then that was more than enough time.
When she arrived back, the receptionist went to fetch Tyrin and her favorite officer emerged from the back not long after.
"Were you successful?"
"2400 kirtz."
Tyrin smiled. "Very nice. Oh, your Doctor asked me to make sure you were doing alright on air." He glanced down at the pack. "Am I to understand that little box carries a mix of gasses that your body requires to survive?"
"Yep."
"And the mix of gasses in our air is toxic to you?"
"Apparently. I trust the Doctor. If he says it'll kill me then it probably will."
"That is a shame." His frown seemed genuine. Oh, dear. "And yet he requires no such mask?"
"He's a different species than us."
Use of motor vehicles on this planet was restricted to only official business and their predicament wasn't deemed important enough to warrant the use of one of the few vehicles in town. So they were walking back to the TARDIS. Martha, Tyrin, another guard, someone from their courts with the papers and the Doctor's effects, the Doctor himself (in cuffs), and the stout little silver-haired man he'd stolen from. Martha kept four hundred kirtz in reserve just in case something like this happened again and gave the other nineteen hundred to Kux. The extra three hundred was for agreeing to come out to the TARDIS.
"Thank you kindly," he said, tucking the money into his pocket. "At least some of you have manners."
"Don't worry, he's gonna get a good kick from me later for this." she promised with a glare in the Doctor's direction. Then she added, "Once Rose is on the mend."
"So, his wife is really very ill?"
She nodded. "You'll believe me once you see her."
Martha glanced at the Doctor again. His nose was scrunched, his lips stretched into a tight frown. "What's wrong with you?" she called.
Everyone glanced at him.
"The TARDIS is yelling at me."
Martha snorted. Everyone else just looked confused. Their confusion only increased when they realized Martha was leading them towards the blue box sitting in the middle of nowhere.
"That's your ship?" Kux asked. "I think can see what the problem is: most of it appears to be missing."
"No, she's perfectly intact." the Doctor informed him haughtily. "What you're seeing is merely a cloaking device."
Martha sternly ordered them all to stay outside as she unlocked the door. She couldn't breathe their air so they probably couldn't breathe hers. The Doctor didn't agree, but he didn't disagree either. That was interesting and she wondered to herself if that meant they could breathe inside the TARDIS.
She slipped inside quickly and shut the door before they could see the interior. She flipped the switch on her pack and pulled the mask off, inhaling the familiar scent of the TARDIS. Hooking the top of the mask to the back, she hurried down the halls to the infirmary.
Rose was asleep in the bed, the book lying just off her leg. She was still so pale and when Martha got closer she could hear how raspy her breathing was. Rose's favorite fluffy pink robe was lying across the chair next to her bed, along with a new t-shirt. She coaxed Rose awake by calling her name and shaking her arm gently. Rose opened her eyes blearily and looked at Martha blankly for several seconds before recognition dawned on her.
"Whasgoinon?"
"You have to get up, Rose. We need your help."
"Wha?" she yawned.
"The Doctor's gotten himself arrested. In order to get him released you have to talk to the man he stole from and sign some papers."
She yawned again, rubbing her eyes, and blinked slowly as this information processed. "They wouldn't let you do it?"
"No but you can because I told them you're his wife. Come on, wake up, and put this shirt on. The one your wearing is in a state."
Rose rubbed her eyes again and took the shirt. Martha rinsed out the bin again and explained as best she could what was going on and why the sheriff and his posse were currently waiting outside the TARDIS. When she was done, Rose had changed into the gray t-shirt and was pushing the covers off her legs. Martha helped her down from the bed and held up the robe for her to slide her arms into. Rose tied it herself and pulled her hair out from the collar. Then almost as an afterthought pulled her TARDIS key out from underneath her shirt, tucking it just under the flap of her robe.
"What's that for?"
"Just in case they need proof of marriage. I can say this necklace is a wedding band."
The TARDIS had shifted the hallways again and when they emerged they were literally next door to the console room. Martha smiled and patted the wall. Another mask was waiting on the pilots seat and Martha hooked the tube to her extra oxygen pack. There was nowhere for it to hook onto so she held onto it while Martha slid the mask over her face and switched it on. Rose took a few experimental breaths and nodded then tried to tuck the pack into the pocket of her robe. Martha pulled her mask back on and then walked down the ramp to the doors.
She poked her head out to make sure everyone was still there and slipped outside. "She's coming. Just getting her oxygen pack situated."
A moment later Rose stepped out of the TARDIS. She winced when her foot touched the ground and Martha realized too late that she wasn't wearing shoes, but Rose didn't complain and pulled the door shut behind her. In her light clothes, with her blonde hair and pasty skin, Rose looked positively alien amongst the dark-skinned natives.
"Hello," she said, smiling at them. "I think you have something of mine."
Someone chuckled.
"Rose?" Tyrin asked.
Rose opened her mouth to confirm but ended up doubling over as another round of coughing seized her. The Doctor jerked forward to help her. The bigger officer tried to stop him but the Doctor shoved him off like he was nothing and rushed to Rose's side. He grabbed onto one of her arms to hold her up and Martha held onto her other arm, rubbing her back soothingly. Rose's coughing died down and she gasped, her shoulders heaving.
"I'm alright," she assured them breathlessly. "I'm alright."
The Doctor turned to the four people watching. If they hadn't believed Rose was sick before that coughing fit had been enough to seal the deal. "Can we hurry?" he snapped, concern for her making him irritable.
"Bein' rude again."
"Yeah, well you can yell at me later."
"Oh, believe me, I plan to."
Someone laughed.
The man from the courts explained to Rose what exactly she had to do to finish the process, which included "official" negotiations with Kux, signing some papers and agreeing to take responsibility should something like this occur again, and showing some proof of marriage. She decided to start with that one and reached into her robe and pulled out her TARDIS key.
"The key?" the court man asked doubtfully.
"No, the chain. Since I never take it off, I keep the key on it as well so I don't lose either."
"And where his? Tyrin?"
Tyrin shook his head. "We found no necklace in his belongings."
"Of course not," the Doctor scoffed. "I was doing maintenance before I left. I took it off for safekeeping. Unless the TARDIS moved it, which she likes to do for some reason, it should be on the nightstand in our room. Rose, could you—"
She shook her head. "If I go back inside, I am not coming back out."
"Right, then. Martha. You know which door's mine?"
"I think so," she lied. She actually had no clue but she trusted the TARDIS to help her…and to provide a necklace.
"On the nightstand. Tell the old girl to be nice."
Martha went inside to get a necklace and they went on with the other business. It was mostly formalities, Kux stating what the Doctor had done and demanding he be paid half the value of the items and agreeing to allow him to purchase them after that. Then he consented to the Doctor being released from custody. He signed the paper and Rose followed suit. Almost immediately after she returned the pen, she was hit by another bout of coughing. Tyrin came forward and quicklyremoved the cuffs so the Doctor could put his arms around her and keep her up.
She twisted in his grip, lifting from the mask from her face, and a clump of mucus into the dirt. Unfortunately, her reflexes kicked in then and she gasped immediately afterwards. The air was thick, like she'd always imagined fog would be, and tasted salty. It made her eyes water and her nose sting. It caught in her throat and coughing even worse, unable to breathe until the Doctor pushed the mask down onto her face again. She exhaled roughly and then sucked in a nice breath of air from her pack and moaned quietly, clutching at her aching chest, and sagged against the Doctor. She felt like shit and just wanted to go back to bed and rest.
"That's it," he snapped. "I'm taking her inside."
"Yes, yes please do."
Rose glanced up. The tall dark man called officer Tyrin's eyes were wide as he stared at her. Like he hadn't expected her to be so sick or he was shocked at her reaction to breathing in their air.
The TARDIS door opened and Martha stepped out, proudly holding up a silver chain that resembled Rose's. "I found it!"
Her smile fell away when she noticed how the Doctor was holding onto Rose and her ashen skin.
"Acknowledged!" the court man cried immediately. "Now, please, take the lady inside before she gets any worse."
The Doctor nodded curtly, adjusted his grip so she was under his arm, and guided her back inside the TARDIS, plucking the necklace from Martha's hand as he went. The door shut behind him, leaving Martha outside to settle the final business. She accepted the boxes containing the Doctor's belongings and the parts he needed. With a smile of gratitude, she started to go inside, but Tyrin stopped her.
"Martha?"
She turned. "Yes?"
He bit the inside of his lip and nodded to her. "Good luck."
"Thank you. So much." Martha set the boxes on the ground, lifted her mask, and kissed him on the cheek. Slipping the mask back on her face, she watched him touch his cheek, both of which were now tinged with color, and wondered what that gesture represented to his culture.
She gave him one more grateful smile, letting him see her face properly, then lowered the mask, retrieved the boxes, and nudged the TARDIS door open with her shoulder.
Bad Doctor. *scolds* Toss a review my way and I wish you all the best of luck this Saturday. x-x
