A/N: Welcome to another original chapter! Just for clarification, this one takes place after Daleks in Manhattan and Evolution of the Daleks, meaning I've skipped telling that one in this story. Anyways, hope you enjoy!
SINK OR SWIM
"Nothing is softer or more flexible than water,
yet nothing can resist it."
Lao Tzu
"The fact that things like Daleks actually exist in this world… I'm probably going to lose some sleep over that," Martha admitted, snuggled into the side of the couch beside Hartley, a fluffy orange robe draped haphazardly around her shoulders.
Hartley hummed as she took a sip of her tea, burrowing under the blanket she was wrapped in. An episode of some futuristic sitcom went ignored on the television in the background.
Their adventure in New York during the 1930's had been as thrilling as it had been terrifying. The sight of the Daleks had chilled Hartley to her very core. Images of Canary Wharf floated behind her eyes, screams of the dead ringing in her ears – though no sound was louder than the sorrowful sobs of Rose as they stood on a beach, out of one another's reach, forever.
"A Dalek killed me once," she told her Martha conversationally, rather than remain soaked in such painful memories. The Doctor was tinkering away in the console room, and they assumed he was messing with the TARDIS' thermostat as the entertainment room was growing chilly.
Martha started from beside her, nearly choking on a mouthful of her tea. "A Dalek killed you?" she asked, incredulous. "But – but you're alive," she said, eyeing Hartley like she was worried she might suddenly morph into a zombie and start moaning for brains. "Aren't you?"
" 'Course I am," Hartley snorted at the wariness in her voice, grinning into her own steaming mug. "I forgot you don't know." She'd never had to start from scratch with a new companion before – she wondered if it was something she was going to have to get used to. "I'm immortal," she said it offhandedly, as if it wasn't important.
Martha stared at her silently, not seeming to know how to respond. "You—you said the same thing, that day in the hospital on the moon," she finally said, brow furrowed in thought. Hartley cast her mind back to that adventure, only a few short days ago. It was hard to believe they'd only known Martha a week. "I didn't believe you," Martha said, nothing Hartley didn't already know.
"You didn't believe the Doctor was an alien, either," Hartley reminded her with a small, cheeky grin, "and now look where we are."
"So, you're saying you're really, truly immortal?" she asked carefully, eyes narrowed in skepticism.
"It's a bit of a complicated story," she replied, cold palms cupped around the heat of her mug, taking another deep sip. "I can die, but it's never permanent. I always wake up, sooner or later."
"But you're human?"
"Yeah," she nodded with a carefree smile at Martha's reaction. Maybe starting over wasn't all bad.
"So, how'd you become immortal?" she asked, and then her eyes widened in horror. "Oh God, it isn't a side-effect of travelling with the Doctor, is it?" she asked in a muted whisper.
Hartley laughed, unable to help herself. "'Course not," she giggled, and Martha relaxed back into the couch with a sigh of relief. "Basically it's all thanks to Rose," she began to explain, noting with curiosity that when she mentioned their previous companion's name, Martha grimaced like she smelt something bad. "She looked into the heart of the TARDIS, absorbed the power of the time vortex. A Dalek had killed me and so she brought me back to life. Only she wasn't in control and accidentally brought me back forever."
Martha could only gape back at her, stunned.
"Like I said: complicated story," Hartley smiled into the rim of her mug.
Martha was quiet for a few minutes, letting this sink in. "Do you age?" she finally asked, less gobsmacked and more genuinely curious. "You're not actually 500 or anything, right?" she added with a nervous chuckle.
"I stopped aging at twenty-five," Hartley revealed with a shrug.
"And how long ago was that?"
Pausing, she realised she had to think about it. "Uh, I'm not sure," she said, and Martha's flabbergasted look spoke volumes. "It's not so easy to keep track of time on the TARDIS," she admitted with another lift of her shoulders. "I tried to keep track of the days for awhile there, but eventually I gave up. There's just no point." Martha was still frowning, and it made Hartley smile. "The Doctor always knows, something about his Time Lord biology. If I'm ever curious I just have to ask him."
"Don't you celebrate Christmas, or Easter, or birthdays?" Martha asked with that same furrowed brow. Hartley supposed it was rather odd for someone who hadn't lived on TARDIS time for as long as she had.
"Sometimes we'll land on Christmas day," she shrugged. "The Doctor loves gingerbread houses."
"But how do you know how old you are?" Martha was stuck on the fact.
"Like I said," she shrugged once again, "the Doctor knows. Besides, when you don't age, it doesn't really matter."
Martha frowned contemplatively, Hartley having given her plenty of food for thought. With a near-silent rumble, the room abruptly became a few degrees warmer, and Hartley sighed her relief. Before either woman could comment on the favourable change in temperature, the Doctor himself strolled into the room, tossing a small silver ball up and down as he walked.
"If you two have finished lollygagging about," he said derisively, casting them a look at where they were each curled on the couch.
"We only woke up a half hour ago," Hartley told him, gesturing to their still-messy hair and flannel pyjamas.
"Well, go on then," he prompted them impatiently, "get dressed. Places to be."
"Oh?" she asked, cocking an eyebrow at him slowly. "I wasn't aware."
"Well, Martha's been to the past and she's been to the future, but all of it was on Earth, or at least some variation thereof. I was thinking she should go to real alien planet, just so we've covered all our bases," he said, tossing the small, shiny ball into the air and then catching it with deft fingers.
"An actual alien planet? With real, actual aliens?" Martha asked, perking up with excitement.
"Yup," he popped the word playfully. "What d'you say?"
"I say yes!" she grinned, sliding her mug of tea onto the coffee table and leaping to her feet.
Hartley put down her own tea, climbing to her feet and stretching her back until it popped. "Where're we going, then?" she asked, tugging at the cuffs of her sleep shirt.
"Somewhere we've never been before," he told her giddily. "Dress comfortably!"
Martha rushed in the direction of her room, and Hartley could do nothing but follow. She quickly changed into some sturdy jeans, a teeshirt and a grey cardigan, slipping some running shoes onto her feet and making sure her phone was in her pocket before heading for the control room.
She got there before Martha, spying the Doctor at his usual place by the console. He was leaning over the controls, his glasses perched low on his nose as he read the information on the monitor. "So where are you taking us, exactly?" she asked curiously.
Apparently the Doctor hadn't heard her coming, because he practically leapt out of his skin in shock, spinning around and holding a hand to his racing hearts. Hartley laughed as he muttered something about needing to get her a bell. She took her place at the console, leaning against it with a small smile on her face, waiting patiently for an answer to her question.
"We're going somewhere I've wanted to go for a long time," he finally told her, walking circles around the console to pilot his ship.
"Am I going to get a name?"
"Poseidon 83," he said, giving an excited spin. "Little planet on the edge of the Milky Way Galaxy! It has thirty-seven moons and orbits two suns!"
"Poseidon?" she echoed curiously. "As in the Greek god, Poseidon?"
The Doctor was already nodding his head. "Named as such because its surface is nearly 99% water. There's very little land, so the inhabitants live on small ships – houseboats, you would call them."
"Water?" came Martha's voice, pulling on a jacket and tugging her hair from its collar. "Please don't tell me there's going to be any swimming involved," she begged him.
"Nah," said the Doctor flippantly. "We'll land in the main city."
"City?" Martha frowned in confusion.
"It floats on the water," he told her, so gleeful that he was bouncing on his toes like an overexcited child. "I've heard they're famous for their sushi – it's Hart's favourite."
"Ugh," Martha made a sound of disgust. "I hate seafood."
"I'm sure they'll have something else for you to try," Hartley assured her.
"Ready?" the Doctor asked them eagerly from his place at the bottom of the ramp.
"Just open the doors, Spacewalker," Hartley told him, feeling an adoration for him bubble up within her, the force of it surprising her. The Doctor threw open the doors like the host of a bad television game show, presenting the prize they'd be playing to win.
He stepped out first, a grin brimming on his lips. Hartley followed close on his heels, Martha coming up the rear. Hartley wasn't totally sure what she was expecting; maybe towering silver spires and sunlight glistening off an endless sea of water like a billion tiny little diamonds. Maybe the floor beneath their feet would rock and bob along with the current of an unending ocean. Maybe an array of aliens with aquatic qualities would be moving around the floating city, rich with culture and beauty.
None of these things, however, were what they found.
There was no water, not a drop of it anywhere in sight. For miles and miles in every direction, all the three friends could see was dry, cracked, lifeless ground. Like an endless desert, dirt and the odd rock stretched out before them. There was no city, no civilisation, no life of any kind. Above them two alien suns burned bright, their fiery heat beating down on them, hot and unrelenting.
"Are you sure we're on the right planet?" Martha asked slowly, lifting a hand to her eyes to try and block out the glare.
The Doctor looked affronted. "Of course I'm sure we're on the right planet," he said, glancing over at her with something of a pout, offended by her insinuation.
"Then, where's the water?" Hartley pressed, and the Doctor's chin flapped up and down a few times, struggling to come up with an answer. Eventually he produced his sonic, holding it up to the sky and taking a few large steps deeper into the boundless desert.
"We're definitely at the right coordinates," he told them, narrowing his eyes at his screwdriver, frustrated. "We should be directly on top of Verity Point," he said, glancing at them and adding for their benefit, "the absolute northern point of the city."
Hartley heard a low creaking, and when she shifted her weight slightly it grew in volume. "Guys?" she murmured, frowning at the ground beneath their feet. So bemused by their situation were the others, they didn't seem to hear her speak.
"Can't it have moved?" Martha was asking critically, oblivious to Hartley's concern. "Floated away with the current?"
"It's anchored to its spot," the Doctor shook his head.
"Guys," Hartley said again.
But the Doctor was too enveloped in the mystery to pay any attention. He spun in a wide circle, eyeing the distance like the city might appear out of thin air. "I'm telling you, we're right on top of it now––"
There was a great crack as the ground gave way beneath their feet. Hartley yelped, fruitlessly trying to find traction in the hot, empty air. They all cried out as they fell, only they weren't falling for long.
They'd dropped for only a few short metres before they hit a reservoir of cold, salty water. Hartley only just had enough time to take a sharp inhale air before the water enveloped her. She'd always been a good swimmer and very quickly began to kick her way towards the surface. Her head broke through and she reached up to push her sopping hair out of her eyes.
Across from her, Martha had also kicked her way to the surface. So had the Doctor, although he looked far more put together than Martha did, spluttering and sucking in air in her shock.
"What the bloody hell happened?" Martha asked once she'd properly cleared her airways.
"The ground collapsed," the Doctor stated the obvious, bobbing as he treaded water, keeping himself afloat. "The surface of the planet is a crust," he added, voice layered with intrigue, squinting up at the crust of the planet that was now acting as a sort of ceiling to them. It was about five metres above them, and in it was a massive, gaping hole, sunlight beaming through and making a patch of water within sparkle.
Hartley spun herself in a circle, legs kicking to keep herself afloat, but in every direction she looked she saw nothing but watery darkness, stretching on forever and ever.
"What are we meant to do?" Martha asked the Doctor, already beginning to shiver from the cold temperature of the water. Hartley was the same, the chill nipping at her skin, hair flat and heavy against her face. "The hole's too far up to reach!"
The Doctor squinted up at the hole above their heads. "The water's actually rising, a few centimetres per minute, I'd say," he told them, voice frustratingly casual considering their dire circumstances.
"How could you possibly know that?"
Hartley interjected before things could get derailed. "It's usually best to just assume it's because he's too clever for his own good and move on," she said quickly.
"I think we've triggered something by breaking the crust," the Doctor continued on like she hadn't spoken, spinning in a circle in the water, searching for something, anything to help them out of this situation. "Good news is, the water's rising; albeit slowly. Should only be about an hour until the tide's gotten high enough for us to climb out."
"An hour?" Martha hissed, teeth chattering. "How're we meant to keep treading water for that long? We're going to tire out. Not to mention it's freezing."
Something occurred to Hartley and she looked down into the water, hoping to see through it. The water, however, was dark, and it was hard to see with the glare of the light from above. "Maybe there's something below us," she suggested.
"Like what?"
"I dunno," she tried to shrug, but it was difficult to do so while still keeping herself afloat. "Maybe at the very least some kind of explanation as to what happened here?"
"Why does that matter?" Martha asked, already beginning to sound a little breathless from the effort of treading water.
"Hartley's right," said the Doctor, swimming circles in the water rather than staying still. Hartley knew his physiology would be able to cope with the exertion and the temperatures longer than she or Martha could. It was a small mercy in a bad situation. "The more we know, the better chance we have of getting out of here in one piece," he said, not even out of breath.
Martha wasn't convinced. "What if there's nothing below us for miles?" she asked, playing devil's advocate.
"Only one way to find out," Hartley replied, and Martha couldn't argue with that. "I'll swim down, see what I can find," she offered.
But the Doctor was already shaking his head. "No, I'll go," he said. Hartley opened her mouth to argue, but the Doctor had his reply ready to go. "My respiratory bypass system lets me hold my breath longer than you," he reminded her, a cool voice of reason. "It makes more sense for me to be the one to go."
She didn't like it, but she also knew there was no point debating it. In actuality, he had a point. The only plus side to her being the one to go was that she couldn't die – but that wasn't much help if there weren't any threats down there in the deep. Besides, it was probably best she stayed with Martha, made sure she was kept awake and alert.
She wasn't a doctor and didn't claim to have anything more than a rudimentary knowledge of the human body, but she knew enough to know what cold shock response was, and how dangerous it could be.
Still, the thought of letting the Doctor go down there alone was like a dagger to the heart. "How long can you hold your breath, exactly?" she asked, plainly aware she was just stalling for time in a desperate attempt to keep him safe.
"A while," was his vague reply.
"Doctor."
"Well, the temperature of the water and how much I'm exerting myself are factors," he informed her primly. "I can't give an exact time, but it's longer than you ever could."
She knew she couldn't stall forever. They had to do something – there was no guarantee the water would rise quickly enough for them to climb out before they either drowned from their exhaustion or succumbed to cold shock response. Ironically, the only direction to go was down.
"Okay," she relented, closing the few feet between herself and the Doctor, reaching out and gripping his hand in the water. "Be careful. Don't take risks."
The Doctor laughed. "Have you met me?" he asked playfully. "That's my main thing." She snorted, rolling her eyes and kicking backwards to give him some room. "Keep an eye on Martha," he said, nodding in their friend's direction.
"Oi," Martha protested, but it sounded feeble coming through her violently chattering teeth.
"I will," Hartley promised.
The Doctor smiled at them before taking a deep gulp of air and disappearing beneath the surface of the water. Hartley and Martha were left by themselves, both women shivering with cold – Martha more so – succumbing to the temperature faster than Hartley was. She supposed that was part of her gift; she wasn't just immortal, she was also built of stronger stuff these days. It took more than a bit of cold water to send her body into shut down.
"What exactly are we hoping to find down there, again?" Martha asked, voice trembling along with her body.
"I dunno; a switch of some kind of drain the water away?" Hartley murmured distantly.
Martha snorted indelicately at the suggestion. "When are things ever that convenient?" she asked critically.
"Touché," Hartley chuckled. "But we've seen stranger things."
"Name three."
Hartley looked over at Martha, wondering whether the words were serious or said in jest. She was full of desperation, and suddenly Hartley knew the truth. She could feel herself slipping and wanted Hartley to distract her in an effort to keep her alert. It was smart, and Hartley quickly obliged.
"One time my brother and I got addicted to seaweed laced with cocaine," she blurted out the first thing that came to mind, and Martha blanched at the strange story.
"You what?"
"Yeah, it was on Neptune in the distant future," she continued, and as uncomfortable to relive as they were, she found a strange sense of comfort in the memories. "The Doctor had to wean us off of it little by little. It was an uncomfortable few weeks, to say the least."
"Seaweed and cocaine on Neptune," muttered Martha in bewilderment. "Now I've heard it all."
"I promised you three," Hartley reminded her. "There was the time we went to the ballet in France but the performance got crashed by real cavemen."
"Cavemen?" Martha echoed dubiously.
"Oh yeah," Hartley laughed. "Fissure in time, letting them come through from their prehistoric land to ours. It was a mess and a half. Ended up being cyborgs from the future trying to get back home. We had to stop them from blowing up the theatre and its surrounding ten blocks."
Martha was silent a moment. "Your life in mental," she tried to laugh, but it came out breathy and weak as she struggled to keep herself on the surface of the water. Hartley was having similar issues, the temperature making her body numb and sluggish. "How're you gonna top that one?" Martha panted, desperate to stay conscious.
"One time we met Satan."
Martha slipped beneath the water in her shock, then burst back up, coughing her lungs clear. "You what?!" she demanded shrilly.
"Yeah, true story. There was this planet in orbit around a black hole, and it turned out to be a prison for the original satan. He possessed one of the workers we met and tried to kill us all, but the Doctor managed to collapse the planet's orbit and send it into the black hole once and for all," she said nonchalantly.
"Are you telling me the Doctor killed Satan?"
"He doesn't like to use the word 'killed'," Hartley replied with a tiny smile on her lips. "But yeah, basically."
There was a sudden burst of water from her right as the Doctor re-emerged from the depths, sucking in deep lungfuls of air.
"Doctor!" Martha exclaimed.
"You all right?" Hartley pressed once he'd caught his breath.
"Yeah," he told them, hair sticking flat to his face. It was so strange to see him without his usual spiky tufts, and Hartley suddenly couldn't wait until they were back out into the sun just so he could dry off and get his usual hairdo back.
"What'd you find?" she asked instead.
"There's nothing there," he shook his head. "I went down for ages – as far as I safely could. There's just more water."
Hartley remembered what he'd told them – giant cities floating on the water. "Is it possible the city sank?" she asked. "The water's salty, so this is probably an ocean of some kind. Maybe it's at the very bottom."
"But if this is an ocean, where're the waves? The current?" asked Martha breathlessly. "It's dead still."
And she was right. There was no current or waves or movement of any kind. It was like they were in a gigantic bathtub. But that didn't make any sense.
"What in the hell happened to this planet?" Hartley wondered.
Nobody answered her, but she hadn't really been expecting them to anyway.
"How close are we to the surface now?" Martha asked the Doctor hopefully.
"Nearly a metre closer than when I went under," he told her, and she brightened considerably. "If we can just keep ourselves afloat another twenty or so minutes we'll be able to climb out, dry off, and enjoy a cup of Hartley's hot chocolate by the fire."
But things were rarely that easy.
"AH!" Martha screamed, flinching where she was bobbing in the water, a sudden fear thrumming in her heart that immediately put Hartley on edge.
The Doctor spun to face her, alarmed by the cry. "What?" he demanded. "What is it?"
"Something touched me!" she hissed, eyes wide with dread.
Hartley's heart dropped down into her stomach. She hadn't considered that maybe they weren't as alone in this silent ocean as they appeared to be. She felt stupid for not thinking of it sooner – if something was going to go wrong, of course sea monster was next on the list of complications.
"What did it feel like?" she asked Martha quickly.
"I dunno," Martha panted. "Big. It brushed by me." She turned to the Doctor, panic in her eyes. "Did you see anything while you were down there?"
"Nothing," he shook his head. "I'll go back down, see if I can spot it."
"But what if it eats you?!"
"If it was going to eat us, it probably would have done it by now," Hartley pointed out, doing her best to keep a level head.
"Could be like a shark," the Doctor suggested offhandedly, like he wasn't making this situation a hundred times worse, "checking out its prey before it takes a bite."
"You're not helping," Hartley deadpanned, and he at least had the decency to look a little scolded.
"I'll just pop down," he said, as if talking about going down to the corner shop for milk and not submerging himself in an alien, monster-infested sea. "See what I can spot."
"Be careful," Hartley warned.
"Always," he told her, then inhaled a deep lungful of air and sank down beneath the surface.
Hartley arms and legs were starting to ache something fierce, and her lungs were burning from her panting. She was starting to get exhausted, movements turning sluggish, and even as she paddled to keep herself afloat her body was trembling, shivering in response to the icy temperature of the water.
She wasn't sure how much longer she could keep this up, but that wasn't the scary thing. She looked over at her new friend, finding Martha to be vibrating with shivers and staring wildly into the water, desperately searching for the monster that had brushed by her, terror in her heart.
"How're you doing?" Hartley asked her gently.
Martha still flinched in surprise, not having been expecting her to say anything. "F-fine," she stammered, the sound of her teeth chattering echoing in the cavernous space above their heads.
Hartley wasn't convinced. "Getting t-tired?"
"Aren't y-you?"
"Oh yeah," she nodded, holding up her hand up to the light streaming in from above to glance at her fingertips, which had gone numb some time ago. She hoped she wasn't going to lose any fingers thanks to this whole ordeal. She didn't imagine growing them back was going to be any fun.
"Th-think we can…we can last?" Martha's voice was trembling just as violently as her body.
"Of c-course we can," Hartley assured her, stumbling a little over the words. Her own teeth began to click together, and her nose too had turned numb. "Let me k-know if you feel yourself losing c-consciousness," she added quickly.
Even despite her predicament Martha managed to shoot Hartley an utterly flat expression. "I am t-training to be a d-doctor, you k-know?" she said dryly. "I know the s-symptoms of c-cold shock response."
Hartley smiled ruefully. "Sorry," she apologised. She didn't want Martha to think she was mollycoddling her; she just couldn't help it. Martha was their guest, their friend. She was only here because of them. It was only right that Hartley would feel protective.
"D-do you always have to m-mother e-everyone you come into c-c-contact with?" Martha gave another violent tremble.
Hartley didn't how to respond to that. She opened her mouth, unsure what was going to come out, but then she felt something huge and slimy slither past her legs. She yelped, jerking away from the sensation, heart pounding wildly in her chest.
"What?!" asked Martha shrilly.
"I felt it," she hissed back, almost scared that if she spoke any louder the creature might reappear and swallow her whole.
The Doctor reappeared, sucking in a deep lungful of air as his head broke the surface. "D-Doctor," Martha sighed with relief. "Did you s-see it?"
"I just felt it s-swim passed m-m-me," Hartley added quickly.
"I saw it," he confirmed. He wasn't trembling from head to toe like they were. Hartley supposed his cooler-then-human biology kept him from feeling the cold as strongly as they did.
"D-do you k-know what it is?" Martha stammered.
"It's a serpent of some kind, but I don't recognise the species," he shook his head. "It's big, though; maybe half the length of a football field."
"B-brilliant," Hartley stuttered tiredly. The way her body was shivering was beginning to hurt, her skeleton seeming to rattle with cold.
"Hartley, your lips are turning blue," the Doctor said, brow furrowed as his eyes flickered between the two humans, taking in their shivering states.
"S'cold," she replied stiltedly. Looking over at Martha, she saw the younger woman's eyes slowly beginning to shut. "Doctor!" she called, suddenly more alert, jerking her head in Martha's direction.
The Doctor crossed the space between them, quickly gathering Martha in his arms, just barely managing to keep them both afloat. "Martha, you've gotta stay conscious."
"Y-yeah, I k-k-know," Martha stuttered, fighting to keep her eyes open.
The Doctor tilted his head back, eyes narrowing as he judged the distance between them and the lip of the crust above them. "We still have a metre and a half to go before we can reach it," he muttered, more so to Hartley than Martha, whose head was beginning to loll with exhaustion.
"It looks h-higher than t-that," Hartley replied, swimming closer to them both. She reached out with trembling hands, doing her best to take some of Martha's weight. It wasn't easy, but she wasn't about to let him struggle alone.
"Not if you climb on my shoulders, then reach down to pull us out," he said like it were obvious. She supposed it was; she was just too tired and waterlogged to think of it.
Her movements had gone from sluggish to downright lethargic. The water felt thicker somehow, making it harder to move her arms and legs to tread the water and keep herself afloat.
Something moved from the corner of her eye, and Hartley turned her head in time to see the thick, cylindrical body of the serpent winding out of the water. It was black in colour, covered in slimy-looking scales that glistened in the light leaking through the hole above them. Her mouth felt dry and she swallowed thickly, not even daring to breathe. She was too afraid that any movement at all would cause it to attack.
It disappeared back into the water with a small splash, leaving her terrified and uncertain.
She turned back to the Doctor, both of them doing their best to keep Martha's limp body above the surface. "How is sh-she?" she asked him in an attempt to distract herself from the serpent coiled somewhere in the inky, icy depths below them.
"She…she's f-fine," Martha panted, trying valiantly to keep herself afloat, but not having much luck. Her lips were blue, eyes red and irritated from the salt water. Hartley wasn't doing much better. The only thing between her and total physical shock was her immortality, working double time to keep her both conscious and alive.
She dreaded to think what would happen if she were to die here – to fall beneath the surface and drift to the bottom of this black, endless sea. How would she ever find her way home?
The sea monster reappeared, serpentine body curling in the space above the water. It was closer now, and on their other side. It almost seemed like it were boxing them in, like a pack of wolves might corral their prey, cornering them before they attacked. Chills broke out across Hartley's skin that had nothing to do with the cold.
"Doctor," she whispered, suddenly horribly aware of the way her legs were kicking beneath her; she felt like she might as well have been wearing a giant neon sign that said 'Here I am! Come eat me!'.
"I know," he whispered back, brow furrowed as his eyes flickered across the water. There was only inky blackness for miles in every direction, the only shaft of light the sunshine coming through the hole in the crust above them.
"You don't h-happen to have anything useful in those p-pockets of yours, d-do you?" she asked, clinging to hope.
"Just the usual," he said.
Martha abruptly slipped from his grasp, dropping down below the surface. Hartley yelped, ducking down into the water without a second thought. It was freezing cold against her face, but she didn't hesitate to grasp Martha as tightly as she could, hefting her back up to the surface.
When she came up for air it was to get a mouthful of hair, and she coughed as it got stuck on her tongue. A hand quickly pushed her sopping hair out of her face, and she shot the Doctor a look of gratitude.
"You okay, M-Martha?" she asked quickly.
Martha coughed, weakly nodding her head, legs doing their best to kick beneath her, but the movements were sluggish at best. Hartley noited she'd stopped shivering so violently, but from what she knew that was anything but a good sign.
"D-Doctor, she's not sh-shivering as much," she hissed, heart racing with terror.
The Doctor's expression was grave. "She's going hypothermal."
The sea monster made yet another appearance, this time closer still. If Hartley reached out she would have been able to touch its slippery, scaly body. "It's circling," she said, chin slipping into the water, water spilling into her mouth. She spat it out, breathing deeply despite the way the air burned in her chest. "It's t-t-toying with us," she panted. "We've g-gotta go now, b-before it gets sick of g-games."
But the Doctor shook his head. "We're not close enough."
"Then w-what are we going to d-d-do?" she demanded, doing everything in her power not to become hysterical. Their options were growing limited. Another death was creeping ever closer.
The Doctor was struggling to keep Martha afloat, and Hartley took over once more, using every fibre of energy she had left to keep her legs kicking beneath them. "There's a chance it doesn't want to eat us," he said, clinging to optimism. "It could just be curious."
"P-personally I don't f-feel like waiting to f-find out," she stammered. She almost wished she could go hypothermal like Martha, if only to stop the shivering. It was getting exhausting. She'd forgotten what it was like to be warm.
Something rammed into her side, large and heavy, and she cried out as she slipped beneath the water. Her mouth filled with water and it took everything she had not to inhale it into her lungs. Clamouring back to the surface, she coughed violently, spitting out the water gathered at the base of her throat.
"Hartley!" the Doctor cried, but he couldn't let go of Martha without killing her, so he was stuck gripping their friend, terror on his face.
It reminded her suddenly of the look he'd had that fateful day at Torchwood, when Rose was nearly sucked into the Void, torn from them forever. He'd looked just as scared, and just as helpless.
Hartley slipped under the water again, but this time she was in control. She held her breath and wrenched her eyes open. The light shining through the ceiling was just enough to give her a low visibility in the water.
The Doctor had been right – the creature was a massive serpent, a snake bigger than any she'd ever seen before. Its head came into the light, revealing beady red eyes and a mouth full of jagged, deadly teeth. It slithered by, wriggling in the water almost like it were dancing. Terrifying it may have been, it was also – in a way – beautiful.
Something occurred to her suddenly, and without stopping to consider it she burst to the surface, sucking in deep lungfuls of salty air.
"If it l-looks like a snake, m-maybe it has the same b-biology as one," she called to the Doctor before he had a chance to say anything. He held up Martha, whose eyes were hazy and hooded, her grip on consciousness fading.
"Meaning?" the Doctor pressed.
"Meaning it's v-vulnerable to vibrations!"
The Doctor took a moment to think before his eyes lit up with the brilliance of the idea. It didn't surprise Hartley that it hadn't occurred to him to use the sonic as a weapon. In his mind, it was the furthest thing from a weapon he had, but she'd learned enough by now to know that even the most innocuous of objects could be used to hurt others.
"Take Martha!" he shouted, and Hartley pushed past the bone-deep ache in her limbs to grip Martha, furiously kicking her legs to keep them above sea level. The Doctor swam a few feet away, fishing his sonic from his pocket and spinning in a circle in the water, searching for the serpent. "This should blind it long enough for us to get out. As soon as I say, pass Martha to me and climb onto my shoulders. The water's high enough now that you should be able to reach the crust!"
She wasn't so sure she liked the use of the word 'should', but there wasn't any time to argue. "G-got it," she assured him.
"Keep Martha's ears out of the water," he added in a hurry. "Whatever you do, don't let her slip. This could deafen her, permanently."
Hartley hefted Martha's deadweight up a little higher. She supposed it didn't matter if her ears slipped beneath the water; she could heal, Martha couldn't.
The Doctor held the sonic beneath the surface, waited an extra beat, then the light of its blue tip shined through the surface of the water, lighting up their faces in its glow. Hartley could hear a piercing screech, but it was faint, muffled by the water.
"Now!" he shouted abruptly, and Hartley leapt into action, handing Martha over to the Doctor who held her against his chest and tensed his muscles in preparation for Hartley's weight.
Her limbs were killing her, the ache in every cell of her muscles, but she persevered. The Doctor's head was forced beneath the surface as she painfully climbed onto his shoulders, but with an impressive amount of strength he kicked his legs to keep himself steady.
The crust was closer now, and Hartley winced as she reached for the lip of their hole. Her fingers brushed the edge but she couldn't get a good grip.
She was aware time was running out. The serpent's blindness would only hold for so long, and when it came out of it, it was going to be angry; and the Doctor's head was beneath the water. He might have had his respiratory bypass system, but even he couldn't hold his breath forever.
She cried out, grasping desperately at the air, hoping to make contact with the crust. She shut her eyes, gathering her strength, and pushed down on the Doctor's shoulders in an effort to thrust herself upwards.
It worked, and she managed to grasp the lip of the hole. Her arms were burning from the exertion but she was just able to climb out, relieved that the crust's integrity held. She'd been scared it would crumble under her touch, but it remained strong and held her weight with ease.
The surface of the planet was blindingly bright, the two suns above her beating down with unforgiving light and heat. She collapsed to the crust, taking a single second to savour the heat and the feeling of the ground solid beneath her. But there was no time to revel in it, she forced herself upright and looked down into the hole in the planet's crust.
Martha and the Doctor were treading water just below, and Hartley quickly leaned her body into it, arms held outstretched, waiting for Martha's weight. "Martha?!" she called, hoping against hope that she was awake. This was going to go a lot easier if she was conscious enough to help them pull her to safety.
"Yeah," Martha croaked from the ocean below.
"Thank God," Hartley mumbled before raising her voice for Martha to hear. "Hold out your hands, I'll pull you up."
Martha's movements were sluggish, but with the Doctor's help she managed to grip Hartley's hands and sluggishly climb out of the hole. She collapsed onto the scorching crust with a sigh, but Hartley had no time to check her over; the Doctor was still down there.
He held out his hands, and by now the water had risen up just enough that he was able to reach her without any boost, gripping her hands tightly and letting her help him climb his way to safety.
"Come on, come on," Hartley muttered as inch-by-inch he pulled himself up. Hartley gripped the sopping material of his suit and tried to yank at it to make get him up faster.
The scaly skin of the serpent shimmered in the gaping hole beneath where the Doctor's legs still dangled. Hartley let out a scream as its face appeared from the depths, mouth open in the hungry promise of death.
"Doctor!" she cried, gripping ahold of his shoulders and pulling with every ounce of strength left in her body.
The Doctor collapsed on the solid ground beside her just as something moved in front of the light from the double suns. The serpent had launched out of the ocean and upwards in a perfectly vertical line. It seemed to hover there a moment, its horrible jaws open in a silent scream of fury, before it collapsed back into the water with a splash that covered them all in even more icy, salty water.
Everything went utterly still and the three of them just lay there a moment, soaking up the suns' heat and revelling in the fresh air.
Hartley looked over at Martha to find her barely even conscious, lips still dangerously blue. "We've gotta get Martha to the med-bay," she said urgently.
The Doctor climbed to his feet, scooping Martha up into his arms with only minimal grunting and carrying her in the direction of their ship.
"You're going to be okay, Martha," Hartley promised fervently, not sure if the younger woman could even hear a word she was saying. "You'll be all right."
The Doctor put Martha in some kind of large chamber, one Hartley had never seen before. He told her it was a machine specifically designed to restore warmth to hypothermia victims at a safe rate, and that it would take a while to heal her completely.
"Now, you go shower," he said, waving her off with one hand while his other one hurriedly typed something into the chamber's settings. "Start it off cool and gradually make it hotter," he added distractedly.
"I don't need one of these machines?" she asked, absently her thumbnails across her fingertips. They were still rather numb but sensation was coming back to her, albeit slowly. She looked at Martha, sealed in the clear medical pod like Snow White in her glass coffin. She looked peaceful, the blue finally starting to fade from her lips.
"Nah, you're already healing," said the Doctor, reaching up to press a hand against her forehead. His skin was cooler than normal, and his hair was still wet and plastered to his face, brown suit still dripping a puddle onto the floor. She couldn't help but laugh, the sound light and easy. "What?" he asked self-consciously, dropping his hand and looking down at himself in bemusement.
"You look like a drowned rat," she told him playfully, pushing up onto her toes and pushing his soaked hair from his eyes. It didn't make it look any better and she smiled wider at the grumpy frown at home on his face.
"So do you," he shot back, and she grinned brilliantly in response.
"Take care of Martha," she ordered. "I'll go shower and get into something dry."
"Can you make your hot chocolate when you get out?" he asked without pause, only to look away when she tried to meet his eyes. "For Martha's sake; help her warm up."
Hartley pressed her lips together to smother the smile growing there. "You got it, Doc."
The shower was heavenly, she could have wept when she finally warmed up enough to turn it hot, standing under the spray until her skin went pruney and pink. She blowdried her hair when she got out, just for an excuse to savour a little extra heat.
Dressing in pyjamas, Hartley slipped her feet into a pair of slippers and headed for the kitchen. The hot chocolate was her dad's recipe, and she found herself smiling as she made up three mugs, dropping some mini marshmallows in as garnish. The sweet, chocolatey scents wafted through the air, and she breathed it in, contentment settling deep in her bones.
"Doctor?!" she called once she was out in the hallway.
"Library!" he shouted back, and Hartley took the three mugs in the direction of her favourite room on the ship.
Martha was sitting in front of the fireplace, soaking up its crackling heat with a woolly blanket draped over her shoulders. The Doctor sat nearby fiddling with his sonic, using a handkerchief to try and dry out the water stuck in its crevices. He'd changed into a dry suit – his electric blue one – and though his hair was still damp it was back to its usual, springy brilliance.
"Hey," Hartley announced herself, moving to the Doctor's side and passing him one of the mugs – a blue one the same shade as the TARDIS. He smiled gratefully, putting down his sonic and taking it in both hands. She smiled back before turning to Martha whose eyes were still a little distant, but she looked a million times better than she had earlier.
Hartley handed her the red, chipped Christmas mug – this one with extra marshmallows, just because – and then took a seat on the couch beside her.
"How're you feeling?" she asked delicately, cupping her palms around her own mug – Galaxy's Greatest Grandad, it read – and taking a deep sip. It tasted as it always did, sweet and chocolatey with just a hint of cinnamon, and she relaxed back into the plush cushions of the couch.
"I'm all right," said Martha with a shrug. "That machine worked wonders. I don't have any lingering effects. The doctors I know would kill to have something like that in their lab," she added with a wistful little smile.
"Give it a century or so," the Doctor murmured knowingly, "and they will."
They faded into silence, no sound but the warm crackling of the fire filling the room. It was easy, a beautiful slice of calm after the suffering they'd just endured. It would have been even better if Hartley wasn't an Empath – but she was, and she alone felt everything no one was saying.
Martha was anxious and a little wrecked, scared even where she was sat by the fire, as if afraid the ceiling would give way to rain and she'd find herself treading water for her life again.
The Doctor, on the other hand, felt wracked with guilt – Martha hadn't signed up for this, she wasn't even officially travelling with them. She was supposed to be here to see the wonders of the universe as a thank you for saving his life, not get trapped in an endless underwater cavern with a giant, hungry sea monster.
Hartley wasn't sure who to deal with first, because she knew she couldn't help both at the same time. She cleared her throat and the Doctor looked up in surprise. She caught his eyes and then flickered her own to the door.
It took him a moment, but eventually he got the message. He stood to his feet. "Is it still rather chilly in here, or is it just me?" he wondered, a little awkward but meaning well. "I think I'll go adjust the TARDIS' thermostat, just up it by a few degrees. Thanks for the hot chocolate, Hart," he said in farewell.
"You're welcome, Doc," she replied, smiling and watching as he left the room, drinking deeply from his mug as he walked.
Once he was gone, Hartley turned to Martha to find her staring down into her hot chocolate, not quite sad. Maybe more reflective.
"So," Hartley began gently, "how are you really?"
Martha hesitated, mulling over what to say. Hartley was silent, letting her sort through the swirl of thoughts in her own time. It was a lot to process, nearly dying under those kinds of circumstances. Hartley couldn't have blamed her if she ran far, far away, as fast as she possibly could. But she didn't, she just sat there, staring into her drink and thinking.
"It was scary," Martha eventually began, quiet and thoughtful. "Terrifying, really. I've never much been afraid of the water, but I think it'll be awhile now before I willingly go swimming again."
Hartley grimaced. The last thing she'd wanted was for this to leave Martha with any lasting scars – but it seemed that had been too much to hope for. "I'm sorry you had to go through that," she said softly. "I wish you hadn't, but I guess sometimes even with a time machine, some things just can't be undone."
Martha smiled grimly. "Yeah," she murmured, eyes distant as they stared into the fire. "Hey Hart?" she asked, and Hartley looked from where she'd been tracing her fingertip along the rim of her mug. "How'd you know I wasn't okay?"
Hartley's expression twisted at the innocent question, and Martha took it to mean she was confused.
"I mean, I thought I was doing a good job at seeming fine," she admitted.
Hartley tilted her eyes, watching her through gentle eyes. "Why would you need to do that?" she asked simply. Martha winced, lifting her shoulders in a sad little shrug. "You're allowed to be affected by things, Martha," Hartley reminded her. "We don't ever expect you to be anything other than exactly what you are."
Martha looked meek, turning away and taking another sip of her cooling drink. Hartley quickly drained what remained of her own and slid the mug onto the the coffee table in front of them. For some reason Martha was feeling disappointment and still that same thrum of fear.
"What's got you so scared?" Hartley asked, and Martha looked up in surprise.
"How d'you do that?" she demanded.
Hartley blinked back innocently. "Do what?"
"Always know exactly what I'm thinking." Her eyes narrowed in suspicion. "I can't believe I'm asking this, but are you some kind of telepath?" she asked sharply.
Hartley hesitated, suddenly uncomfortable. She'd never had to tell anyone about her ability before now. The only other person who knew was the Doctor, and he'd known before she even did. Hartley winced, looking away with a shard of shame that she couldn't quite explain.
"Hartley," Martha pressed, intent on getting answers.
"Empath," Hartley confessed, saying the word quickly, like ripping off a bandaid. "It's not telepathy, it's empathy."
Martha looked like she might have been about to throw up, and Hartley felt the wave of nausea that went along with it. "Oh God," Martha said thickly. "Are you telling me you know everything I'm feeling right now? Everything I'm feeling all the time?" she was embarrassed; disgusted by this ability Hartley possessed.
And Hartley could finally explain that shame she felt deep in her gut. Her abilities as an Empath were an invasion of people's privacy. She'd never thought about it like that before, but suddenly it was all she could focus on.
She didn't get people's permission to delve into their psyche, didn't ask before she sorted through their emotions, the one thing they had that was supposed to be personal and private. She just dived into their secrets, tearing them apart as if she had any right to it.
Even despite being back in the warmth of the TARDIS, she suddenly felt ice cold all over again.
Standing to her feet, Hartley moved closer to the roaring fire in an attempt to soak in its heat. She stared into the flames, wondering how she hadn't seen any of this before.
"I didn't mean to invade your privacy," she whispered, finding herself too ashamed to meet Martha's eyes. "It's still rather new to me. I don't know how to control it yet. I just feel things, whether I want to or not." She glanced at Martha from the corner of her eye, but her spine was still straight, muscles stiff as she struggled to decide how to feel. "I'm sorry," Hartley said sincerely.
Eventually Martha found her voice. "Can you…manipulate feelings, too?" she asked warily.
Closing her eyes, Hartley could only nod her head.
"Have you ever manipulated me?" Martha persisted.
"No," Hartley turned to look at her, sincerity shining in her eyes. "I rarely manipulate anyone's emotional state. I barely even know how. The few times I have, it's been to save lives, or occasionally just to let someone know they're not alone."
Martha pursed her lips. "Is there any way you can stop knowing what I feel?"
Hartley grimaced. "I can try to ignore it, but I don't know how to fully block it out yet."
Martha's internal disgust finally began to fade and as it did Hartley's tense muscles began to slowly relax. They stood in the quiet for a few minutes, and it was anything but comfortable. Hartley tried to put all her focus on the crackling fire, doing her best to ignore the haze of emotion she could feel to her left.
"Is that what happened at Bedlam?" Martha eventually broke the silence, curiosity in her voice. "Back with Shakespeare, when you got overwhelmed? Was that because of the empathy?"
Hartley nodded. "Like I said, I still can't control it. Sometimes it can be a little overwhelming," she admitted meekly.
Martha's face scrunched in confusion. "You keep saying you're human," she began carefully, "but you're telling me you've got this empathic ability, and you also claim to be immortal-"
"I am immortal," Hartley found a fibre of normalcy in their interaction, rolling her eyes in exasperation.
"What I mean is," Martha continued without pausing, "is there any human left?"
The words weren't meant to hurt her in any way. She was simply voicing her thoughts aloud, putting words to the questions that floated in her mind. Despite the innocuous way she spoke, it still sent a cutting pain through Hartley's chest.
She searched for an answer, coming up short. "The Judoon catalogued me as human, remember?" she eventually managed to say. "So, at a biological level, I'm still just as human as anyone."
It was factually correct, she just wished it didn't sound so much like she were trying to convince herself.
She was left only with more questions, and decided to change the topic before she got any more confused.
"Can I ask, were you afraid before because you think if you show any weakness we might kick you to the kerb?" she asked tentatively.
Martha looked away, and Hartley knew she was right.
"Do you wanna stay with us, Martha?" she pressed, gaining momentum as she spoke. "Because know that if you do, you'd be welcome."
Martha didn't look convinced. "The Doctor hasn't said anything. It's been all 'one last trip' for days now. I'm not actually one of you."
Hartley felt sympathy well in her chest. She knew what it was like to be on the outside looking in. She knew how heartbreaking it could feel. "The Doctor's never been the greatest at letting people in," she said mildly. "He's never been so great at taking hints, either."
"You're saying I should ask him point-blank?" Martha asked, sounding horrified by the idea.
"I'm saying that if this is something you really want, you can't expect it just to happen. Sometimes you've gotta say it aloud, in no uncertain terms – particularly when it comes to dealing with the Doctor," she told her wisely.
Martha chewed on her lips a moment. "Do you want me on board?" she asked. Hartley could tell she was doing her best to keep her emotions hidden behind a mask, but it was pointless. Hartley could feel them all anyway. The only person who could ever truly hide from her was the Doctor himself – ironic, considering she was the one person she most wished she could read.
"Why wouldn't I want you on board?" Hartley asked her carefully.
Martha looked away, feeling a sudden burst of shame that took the Empath by surprise. "Maybe because I just attacked you over something you can't even control," she muttered bitterly.
Hartley smiled, finally retaking her seat beside Martha on the couch. "Let's agree to learn from it, and move past it," she suggested, carefully placing an arm around the younger woman's shoulders, bringing her into a loose hug. "I won't hold it against you, so long as you don't hold my empathy against me."
Martha smiled, a little weak but altogether sincere. "Deal."
Martha yawned, and her exhaustion was contagious. Hartley blinked dopily. "Come on, we've had a long day. We should get some sleep. Who knows what tomorrow will throw at us?"
She helped pull Martha to her feet, and together they headed for the door that would lead them to their rooms.
"And, for the record," Hartley added as they came to a split in the hallway, "I'd really love for you to be part of this team."
Martha radiated happiness at the comment. "Team?" she asked, a little playful.
"I like to call it Team TARDIS," Hartley laughed quietly. "It's never really caught on with the Doc, but that's not for lack of trying."
"Maybe it will, one day," Martha offered kindly.
Hartley smiled. "Maybe one day."
A/N: Hope you enjoyed! This one took a lot longer to write than you'd probably think it would, especially considering its size in comparison to other chapters.
Thanks for your feedback with my last question about the future of this story, it really helped! Seeing as it worked so well, I have another one that I've been trying to work out: what would you guys think about a higher rating for this story?
For those of you who read my other works, you'll know I typically like to write more adult content into my stories. I've held back with this one – seeing as the show's PG I figured this story would be too – but as I'm arriving at some heavier topics/situations in the coming chapters, I'm starting to wonder what it might be like if I had some more explicit content in here. I would obviously change the rating to M, were that the case.
What are your thoughts? Do you want me to keep it PG and just allude to the darker themes and adult content, or do you want to see them, and their consequences, in depth? Any feedback at all would be a huge help!
Coming up next: The Lazarus Experiment