The heat was unbearable. Even worse than it was before because of all the rubble pits. He could smell the decay and putrid burning of bodies and taste their ash in the air. This was her work, without a doubt. Oh, that wicked little girl had been hard at work since crawling her way out of the war.
He couldn't help feeling angry with the Doctor. The sensible part of his mind reminded him that the Doctor would never have told him she was alive out of fear for his health and happiness. His mind still had tendencies to slip into confusion when he was afraid, and his fear of her was absolute.
The sensible part of him told him that, while the rest of him showed his anger. The Doctor was trying to talk to him, trying to stop him, but he refused to listen. He pushed away the hands that grasped at him and he looked through the eyes that looked at him so pleadingly. The Doctor was afraid that she was still here and he was trying desperately to get Harry to go back, but he would not go. He knew that if she was still here, no one would be walking free in the streets like they were.
"You should have said something," he hissed in Gallifreyan, to stop the others from knowing what he was saying. "This is so much bigger than you and I, Doctor. How dare you keep something like that a secret?"
"I know. Harry, I know," the Doctor answered him quickly, his voice clearly showing his distress. "Listen, I'm sorry. I am so sorry, but we can handle—"
"YOU LET ME CARRY A BABY!" he roared, pushing the Doctor back again, though this time the sensible part told him that he pushed too hard. "Do you have any idea what she will do to my—to our son if she gets a hold of him!?"
He was so angry. That sensible part of him was shouting at him to stop and to calm down. He heard it, in the back of his head, telling him to let go when he grabbed the Doctor by the arms. But he was so angry that he didn't care. His hands squeezed tight and it felt like the heat around him was infecting him inside.
"She won't just kill me, Doctor," he shouted again, maintaining his grip so that he could shake that infuriating man a bit. "She'll keep us until he's born and then she'll make us watch him suffer."
Hands were grabbing at him from behind and he heard other sensible voices telling him to stop. But he wasn't done yet because the Doctor didn't look afraid. He was hurt, yes, but not afraid. And he needed to understand how foolish it was not to be afraid.
"She'll kill everyone, don't you know that?" he urged. "Why would you do this? Why would you start all this with me? Why would you act like having a child was so wonderful when you knew she was out there!?"
"Because now we'll fight for it!" the Doctor barked back, giving Harry a push to force his hands away. "We have so much to lose now that there is no way in hell either of us is going to go down easily. These are our lives, not hers, and we don't stop living just because she says so, do you understand?"
He stared furiously at the pair of brown eyes that glared defiantly and unapologetically back. "You're insane."
"Do you love me, Harry?" the Doctor asked, his voice nearly growling and his jaw set firmly.
"Now don't start with—"
"I asked you if you loved me, now answer the question!" the Doctor shouted impatiently. "Do. You. Love. Me? Yes or no!?"
"Yes!" he shouted in return.
"I want you to say it. Say it and think about what it means!"
"Alright, I love you!" His hands shot upwards in exasperation and he saw Donna jump out of the corner of his eye. He'd forgotten that the rest of the group had no idea what they were saying. For all they knew, the two of them were seconds away from violence.
"Do you love our baby?"
"Of course I do."
"And do you love them?" the Doctor asked, gesturing towards the group that were staring at them with such anxious faces.
He glowered at the Doctor. He didn't care how good the Doctor's excuse was, he was still furious. Either way, Godforge was still in ruins and people had died. He felt responsible for that happening and, if the Doctor hadn't kept secrets, it might have been prevented.
"She's not killing any one of us because we aren't going to let her," the Doctor said in that low growl of his that he used when he was completely serious. "I am not going to apologize for falling in love, getting married, or for bringing new life into this universe and neither are you. I regret nothing."
The Doctor turned on his heel and began to walk away. Despite his anger and frustration, and despite the large part of him that wanted to take off his shoe and hurl it at the Doctor's head, he bit his tongue and followed. A few quick steps caught him up to the Doctor and, though he made sure to do it a bit roughly, took hold of his hand.
"I'm still mad at you," he said grumpily.
"Be mad all you want. I don't care," the Doctor answered just as grumpily, though he locked their fingers together without hesitation.
The others followed after a moment or two of muttering amongst themselves and then they all remained unnaturally quiet. He supposed it was for the best though, because he certainly didn't want to be pestered with questions and he had a feeling that the Doctor didn't either.
They found a priest outside the temple, going through an enormous book and marking off the members of their brotherhood that had fallen. The Doctor began to question him and the priest obliged most politely. He spoke of the fires showing distress and warning them of the presence of evil, but they were still unprepared. They called her the Nightmare, for the way she infected their thoughts and dreams and filled them with horrors.
At first, she was torturing the Haephsian people into madness with her imaginary terrors and they began to murder their own. Then she appeared with soldiers of her own and stole so many of their people away. Parents fell protecting their children, friends protecting friends, even many of their own brotherhood disappeared with the mysterious girl with black lips.
Some of the brotherhood saw it as the fulfillment of a prophecy and insisted that they were meant to rescue a Star in the form of a child that would come back to Godforge and purge it of evil. A team volunteered, desperate to earn approval from the gods and perhaps earn their mercy, but the team never returned.
He saw Donna's face fall as the story was told. He knew that she felt badly enough about what happened on Christmas day, but learning that they were trying to save so many lives must have made it worse for her.
"But then what happened?" the Doctor asked, looking around in confusion. "You're organizing and rebuilding so she can't still be here. Where did she go? She didn't just pack up and leave."
The priest's eyes lit up with pride and a smile spread across his scaly face. "The Star came anyway."
The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "Are you saying that a child saved you?"
"A man," the priest answered with a shake of his of head.
"But no, no it can't be," Donna said a bit too loudly as she pushed her way past Harry to come face to face with the priest. "Because the prophecy said a child and babies don't grow up that fast."
"He is one of the gods," the priest answered as though it were perfectly simple. "Gods are not bound by bodies or age."
"Did he look Haephsian?" Harry asked, and when the priest shook his head he turned to the Doctor with raised eyebrows. "A god of the Haephsian people but it doesn't take a Haephsian form?
"It is not our place to question the decisions of the stars themselves," the priest answered simply. "Our pilgrim brothers failed the test given to them and never returned. We are very blessed that the Star showed us such forgiveness despite their shortcomings. We would not dare question that forgiveness."
"Alright, fair enough, but what did he do?" the Doctor asked. "How did he just show up and chase away an army?"
"We supplied him with the armour of the most scared arts that he might fight for his people," the priest explained, his eyes clearly showing the excitement he felt from just the memory. "And wielding a white staff he pushed the soldiers back towards their ships and they began to fight amongst themselves while other simply turned and ran. It was truly a sight of awe."
"And that's it?" Harry asked in disbelief. "She just left?"
"No!" the priest answered quickly. "The Nightmare's soldiers were in such a state of pandemonium that it seemed as though they had been turned into mere animals and she had no protection from them. The Star called for her blood and she had no more defenses. His holy light strengthened his followers and we stormed her ship with him. It was then that she ran."
"Well, the enemy of our enemy makes a friend, doesn't it?" Jack said happily. "And a kickass one at that. Did he say what his name was?"
"He is the Star," the priest answered plainly.
"How about his species?"
"He is the Star," the priest answered again, frowning at them as if he thought them incredibly stupid. "One of the gods who reward us for our faith and—"
"Yeah, yeah, we get it," the Doctor interrupted a bit impatiently. "Alright, thank you. Thank you very much."
There was a bit of muttering back and forth between the others as they walked back to the ship, but Harry wasn't really paying attention. It was so hot, and the stench of death was making him feel a bit dizzy. The baby was kicking and moving about, clearly agitated, and he wondered if the heat was bothering him too.
Grandfather must have known. He felt the old man's hand on his shoulder and glanced back to see him smiling kindly. Was Wilfred worried about him because of the heat or because of the situation? He was suddenly aware again that the shouting match he had with the Doctor had not been in English and that maybe the others thought that they were still angry with each other.
He was still angry and, though the he would never admit it, the Doctor was angry with him too. But it was a lingering anger that was only there because nothing had replaced it yet and he thought it might be best to try to put the others at ease.
"Baby's trying to say hello to you, Banni," he said quietly, reaching out to tap the Doctor on the shoulder.
The man didn't say a word. He turned around, still scowling a bit, but the tense lines in his face vanished and his eyes lit up a bit when Harry grabbed his hand and placed it over top of the denndi. It was a moment or two before the Doctor seemed to feel anything, which was amazing to him because he felt every single wiggle, and just like that all anger was forgotten.
"I want to feel it!" Donna bumped the Doctor aside with her shoulder and placed her hands on Harry's chest, grinning in delight when the baby gave another strong kick. "My word, he's gonna be a footballer, this one!"
He wasn't exactly in the mood to stand in that stifling heat while everyone in the group took turns at groping his chest, but he decided to tolerate it if only to lighten things up a little. The heat was making it more difficult to keep his mind to himself, and the last thing he wanted was to be experiencing the negativity of five other people.
He glanced over Wilfred's shoulder as those wrinkled hands hesitantly and rather awkwardly landed over top of the kicking baby. The Doctor was smirking. Despite the sight of smoke, the smell of death, and the knowledge of the evil that threatened them all, there was a shine to his eyes and joy tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"He's a whiner, just like his Tokrah," the Doctor said after a moment of many hands reaching out to Harry. "He doesn't like the heat much, I suspect. We'd best head back to the TARDIS and quickly."
He wasn't going to argue with that, and he was extremely grateful that no one else did either. He could swear that Godforge seemed ten times hotter than the last time he had been there, though he supposed that carrying a denndi had made it harder on his body. The walk back to the TARDIS felt like it took forever and it was worse with each step.
"The thing I don't understand is the whole nightmare thing," Jack said as the blue box finally came into view. "Because Tussenii don't have telepathic abilities."
"You're right, they don't," the Doctor answered, turning to walk backwards so that he could frown curiously at Jack. "What makes you say she's Tussenii?"
"The way he described her," Jack answered with a shrug. "The pale features, the black lips, the fact that she looks like a little girl when she can't be. Tussenii age up and down, don't they?"
"They do," the Doctor answered slowly. "I also suspected that was what she was but came across the same problem you did."
"Right. Tussenii aren't telepathic."
God, it was hot and their chatter was annoying. "She's only half Tussenii," he answered irritably. "You already knew that."
There was a bit of an odd silence, but he didn't really care. The TARDIS was close now, and inside it were wonderful things like air conditioning and ice and the swimming pool with its lovely cool and calming water.
"Actually, I didn't know that," Jack replied as the Doctor opened those beautiful blue doors and the promise of shelter stood before him.
"What do you know, Jack?" he huffed in irritation and pushed past him to get inside.
The relief was almost immediate, like stepping into the shade from beneath a glaring sun. The sweat on his face turned cold and he let the cooling sensation wash over him. When he opened his eyes again and took a look around, the others were looking at him a bit oddly. All except the Doctor, who was busy working away on the ship's console.
Maybe Jack didn't know but the Doctor did. How long had that mad old Time Lord convinced himself that he didn't know a thing about the Nightmare? How long had he thought about it just enough to convince himself that he had tried without allowing himself to realize the truth?
Yes, he knew all about that half-breed Tussenii whether he denied it or not.
He remembered the first day he met the girl known as the Nightmare. He'd heard all about her and the travesties that followed in her wake. He remembered working with Kahlia to find out who the Nightmare's spy had been for so long and he should have known the moment they found her. The moment he saw the woman who had managed to capture his heart, no matter how briefly, look up at him in fear and ecstacy and lift the communicator to her lips, he should have known that there was more to it than he had thought.
"He's here," she said. She looked at him right in the face, though they hadn't yet met, and smiled.
"He's here," meant he had been expected. She knew he would come and she anticipated something more, but he hadn't thought about it then. In his blind rage, he never thought to wonder why a spy would look so thrilled to get caught.
He pulled the trigger and Kahlia screamed as her mother fell. His hearts had turned cold for the time being and he didn't wait to say goodbye or to look in his daughter's eyes as she faded from existence; he just turned and walked away.
He didn't know all the details of what happened next. All he knew was that he never made it back to the rendezvous ship before the Nightmare and her troops descended. The land burned and Time Lords died and he was not taken without soaking himself in the blood of his enemy first. The exhaustion set in, the thick smoke making it hard to breathe and the unbearably loud drumming in his head making it impossible to concentrate. Finally, he was overpowered and taken captive, dragged aboard the Nightmare's ship to meet the Queen herself for the very first time.
He looked into those unforgiving grey eyes and felt as though he might die right then and there. He should never have pulled that trigger, or else he should never have left without making sure that vile woman was dead. The betrayal of a lover was a bitter sting, but the betrayal of a father was far worse—a betrayal deep enough to twist a person into something evil.
"Have I ever shown you what my daughter looked like?" he asked Jack quietly, though his eyes were fixated on the man at the console.
"Harry, don't," the Doctor said quickly, looking up at him with panicked eyes. "You're tired from the heat. The baby is in distress. You shouldn't be pushing yourself with telepathy until you've had a chance to rest. Just don't."
Just like with Berran. The Doctor had known all along . . . he just didn't want to know.
Harry projected the image of Kahlia into their minds and he saw the Doctor's panicked face turn to one of defeat. Those brown eyes turned downward and he saw a tear spill down the Doctor's cheek, while the others simply looked at him in awe. Donna gasped in a way that sounded like she was holding back a sob and covered her face with her hands, and something that sounded rather like a whimper escaped Wilfred's mouth.
They could all see her now. His beautiful daughter, the way she looked when she fought beside him. She was nearly sixty at the time, though she only looked to be in her early twenties, with short silver hair and blue-grey eyes. And then, just as they were now, those lips tugging into that half smile of hers were black as night.
She had always been an unstoppable force with insatiable ambition, even as a child, and he had given her a purpose—to conquer, to kill, to become Master over the universe where her father had failed. Most of all, he had given her a thirst for revenge.
"Her name is Kahlia," he whispered, unable to look away from the devastated look on the Doctor's face. "She was born on Gallifrey and her mother was Tussenii," he felt the baby kick him hard as the shame engulfed him completely. "These days they call her the Nightmare."
