Disclaimer: I don't own the rights to Doctor Who or Supernatural or any of the related rights.
...
"Rose."
Her head hurt. And it was nice and comfy back in the blackness that was unconsciousness, so she'd just like to climb back inside, thank you very much. It would be warmer there, too.
"Rose!"
This time, she recognized Jack's voice and was surprised that he was so insistent. She'd get up when she felt like it!
"Rose!"
"What?" She forced her eyes open, and when she did, she stopped being mad at Jack for being so insistent. They were in the middle of that Maine forest, and now that she was awake enough to try moving, she could feel the rope tearing into her wrists. "What happened?" she asked the air, since she still hadn't seen Jack.
She heard his voice from somewhere behind her. "We were suckered," Jack said. "That girl was never in trouble."
Ah yes. Now she remembered. They'd heard someone scream, went to investigate . . . was that how they ended up here? She shifted, trying to find a way to see Jack, but he was definitely behind her and definitely on a different tree.
She worked at the ropes for a while to occupy her mind while she asked, "Did you see where that other guy went?"
"What other guy?"
"Oh, right. You weren't there. There was this guy in a plaid shirt, and he knew about the Doctor, and he left me with the girl and told me to take her to the police." The explanation tumbled out of her lips probably faster than she meant it to, but she was not sure what to make of the guy she'd met. First, he'd seemed dangerous, a trained soldier. And then he was all smiles and charm and care and confidence. And then he was leaving her with a dangerous little girl (though in fairness, she didn't know Alice was dangerous, so maybe her plaid-shirted forest guy didn't either).
"He knew about the Doctor?"
Rose nodded. "Yeah. Dunno how, though." She blew all her breath out in a huff and leaned back against her tree. "I can't get out."
"Me neither."
"We're stuck."
"Thanks for that. I wouldn't have noticed."
"Shut up," she laughed despite her aching wrists.
"Come over here and make me."
"Shut up!" she laughed again, this time louder, and this time with an even broader smile. Leave it to Jack to turn anything into flirting. Tied up and helpless and all he could do was tease her! Typical.
Jack was quiet for a bit, and Rose imagined he was probably either feeling proud of himself or trying to figure a way out of this mess. "Tell me about this girl," he said at last. (Ah, so he was trying to figure a way out. Well, her feelings weren't too hurt.)
"Alice."
"Right. Alice. Tell me about her. What did she say to you right before she nabbed us?"
Rose thought for a moment for anything that stood out to her in particular. "Well," she said, with a small smile, "she's a very good actress, for one thing."
"She's gotta be, to pull the wool over your eyes," Jack pointed out, and she could just hear the smirk in his voice. "You can usually see right into people, Rose. What happened?"
Rose hardly had time to blush at the compliment before she had to answer Jack's question. "I was a bit preoccupied by the guy I thought was trying to kidnap her!"
"Makes sense," Jack said. (To her relief, he didn't try to press her any further.) "I mean, if you're gonna be suspicious, suspect the one who's not tiny and crying her eyes out, right?"
"Exactly!"
"I'm just trying to figure out why she was so interested in how many of us there were," Jack said. "She said something about moving fast before the Doctor came."
"Maybe she knows who he is," Rose suggested. "I mean, Plaid Guy knew about him, so maybe he's been to this town before?" She wouldn't be surprised. The Doctor had been on plenty of adventures across space and time, and 900 years was a long time to make new friends. And new enemies, as she was learning quickly.
"Maybe," Jack said, but the tone of his voice meant he didn't really think that was the case and was just humoring her. She hated when he did that.
"So what's your grand theory, then?" she asked. "Let's have it."
"What happened when Plaid Guy left?" Jack asked, skirting her question.
"She wanted to get him back. Didn't want him to leave," Rose said. She frowned. Now that she thought about it, Alice really could have taken her and Plaid Guy out. Maybe the only thing stopping her was the fact that Plaid Guy's dad was shouting for him and would have been close by if something had happened.
Jack was quiet for another uncharacteristically long stretch of time. "So she needed two."
"You think so?"
Again, Jack was quiet. Rose wished she could turn to see him properly, but she could hardly move at all; whoever had fastened her to this tree definitely knew what they were doing. Finally, he said, "I think we're in trouble."
Rose blew out all her breath again. "You're no help."
He was quiet, but this time, she knew he was smirking at her, so the quiet didn't bother her as much this time.
...
The Doctor stayed a good distance ahead of the two men behind him. He didn't like the arsenal they were carrying (and don't think he didn't notice the knife sticking out of a teenager's pocket. What was his father thinking?).
He could hear the distant arguing and couldn't help feeling proud of the younger son for standing up to his father, though he was too far ahead to hear what they were arguing about and too preoccupied with his lost companions to care enough to eavesdrop.
All he knew was that when he turned around again to see why they were lagging behind, there was only one man behind him. The father.
Fantastic.
He picked up his pace a little bit but masked it by shouting into the forest, "Rose! Jack!"
But the father was at his side in an instant, no longer hampered by his youngest son. He was alert and aware, and for at least that much, the Doctor was grateful. He might not have approved of the man's lifestyle, but he could use eyes like his.
"I doubt shouting for them is going to be any good," he said at last.
"Doesn't mean I'm not going to try," the Doctor said.
The father grabbed the Doctor's arm to turn him to face him. "People have been going missing around here for years. I think maybe it's time to consider the fact that your friends might not be lost—they might have been taken."
The Doctor whirled around. "Don't you think I've—"
"Of course you've considered it. But you didn't let the thought stay."
The Doctor blinked, surprised. There was something new behind this man's eyes, something almost like loss, but crushed down and turned into something else. "What did you say your name was?"
"John."
"Nice to meet you, John," the Doctor said, meaning it for the first time. "So tell me, if you're so sure, what is it you think took my friends?"
"I'm not sure yet," John said. "My sons and I are still figuring that out."
"Is this what you do, then? Pick up strangers and help them find people?" The Doctor almost laughed at his description. That was what Rose said he did. Picked up strangers and helped them.
John smirked. "Sort of."
"And does everyone come back?"
The look in John's eyes told him everything. And more. He'd lost someone, too, only his loss was never coming back to him.
So the Doctor decided, for now, not to press him too hard about the shotgun or the military bearing. Loss could . . . it could do things to a person, and not everyone was lucky enough to have a Rose by their side to fix them up and clean up afterward.
If he ever found Rose again.
He forgot that humans could be this way. So . . . easily endangered. So fragile. And it amazed the Doctor that he was constantly surprised by this. The most tenacious species in the universe, the most curious, the most likely to get themselves in mortal peril at the first opportunity.
Sometimes he wondered how they managed to survive for so long as a race.
"My son said the girl who screamed got picked up by the police," John said at last, breaking into the Doctor's thoughts. "If your friends were following her, maybe she'll be able to help."
"What about your son? Isn't he still out here?" the Doctor asked.
John shrugged. "I told him to meet us at the police station anyway. He'll be there."
The Doctor frowned. "You're sure you don't want to—"
"We're wasting daylight," John said brusquely, and it was clear he meant it to be the end of the conversation. Clearly, the man was used to getting what he wanted.
The Doctor thought back to John's youngest son. Well, John was used to almost always getting what he wanted.
The Doctor made a mental note to invite the youngest son into the TARDIS. He could use that kind of spirit. He'd fit in well with Jack and Rose, and besides, the TARDIS had plenty of space for travelers, especially ones who didn't seem to fit in where they were.
