We are now more or less in the aftermath of the Daniel Edge portion of the story...
Now comes the hard work of sorting out Curtis' situation!
Once more, a shout out to Sheena for being such a good sport, and sticking with me as a Beta, even after a five-month lapse. Thanks so much!
Oh, and yes. Daniel Edge is based on someone specific... the son of a current world "leader," who I'm hoping will not be a "leader" for too much longer. ;-) A couple of people have asked about that over the months... excellent call!
Enjoy!
SEVENTEEN
In Tim and Curtis' tiny kitchen, there the five of them sat: the two brothers, the Doctor, Martha, and Stephanie. They did the British thing after a difficult turn, and made tea.
Professor Dibbins had hitched a ride back to London with the Scotland Yard folks, and their charge, Daniel Edge. Before leaving, he had volunteered to give evidence at any harassment hearing on Stephanie's behalf, and definitely if he was needed to convict Edge of fraud.
"Does he even understand the connection between Edge trying to kill Curtis, and Edge harassing Stephanie?" Martha asked the group.
"Not unless someone explained it to him," the Doctor answered. "And even then, who the hell would believe something like that?"
"I thought about trying to explain it to him," Stephanie said, with a sigh. "But I knew I'd need a lot of time to convince him, and that we didn't have that kind of time, so I just gave him the normal, human-friendly, abridged version. Daniel Edge, harassing me, possible fraud, let's get him off my back."
Martha smiled at her. "The normal, human-friendly abridged version. You're becoming one of us."
"All I can say is that Professor Dibbins will be instrumental in bringing Daniel down," Stephanie said. "I'd bet that once they start digging, now that they know where to look, they will find about fifty more fraud and/or embezzlement cases they can pursue."
"But I'd bet that his lawyers are scummy and slippery enough to get him out of all of them," Tim sighed.
"Yeah, maybe," she chirped. "But he'll be tangled in court for a long time."
"Not long enough," he replied. "You really ought to think about moving away from London."
"But it should be somewhere other than Leeds," the Doctor suggested.
Tim's head snapped in the Doctor's direction. "What? Why?"
"Because Curtis is safe from Edge," the Doctor said. "He has forever forgotten Curtis and his abilities. If I understand the Axiothe Field correctly, it will have blocked him from knowing about Curtis permanently. But he still knows you, Stephanie, and he knows that he was in Leeds this evening, for better or for worse, and that he saw you here. If you relocate, it should be to a different town, because if he can't find you in London any longer, he'll redirect here. Moving to Chichester or Glasgow won't make you invisible, but it will buy you time to think things through. I might be able to help you get off the grid, if you want, but you'll have to change your name."
Tim's face grew red, with upset and embarrassment. Martha squeezed his hand sympathetically and gave him a look that said, "Sorry, but you know he's right."
"The good news is, Stephanie, you'll just have a run-of-the-mill harassment case to deal with, and not an intangible cosmic crisis which could have been rendered completely out of your hands," the Doctor continued. "You've got options now. Either build a case against him, or disappear."
"Then, we'll all have to move," Curtis said. "If she disappears, we will, as well."
Stephanie frowned. "Why? This isn't your problem. Actually, it never was. Never should've been."
"Because Tim…" Curtis began.
Tim interrupted him. "Because it is our problem. It became our problem, and we're all in this together. I think my brother means that we can't let you do something so big, so risky, on your own."
"That's not why," Curtis said.
This time, Martha patted Curtis' hand, and very quietly said, "Shhh."
True to form, Curtis listened to Martha, and clammed up, even though he didn't understand the nuances of this conversation. Though curiously, he had picked up on the nuances of Tim and Stephanie's rapport.
The Doctor and Martha both separately wondered how Tim would justify moving to wherever Stephanie went, as they could both see the mild panic in his eyes, and the problem-solving wheels turning.
"So, Doctor, you went to all the trouble of rigging up a device to scramble Curtis out of Edge's brain, and never used it?" Tim asked, now trying to change the subject.
"Yeah," the Time Lord sighed. "Truth be told, though, I'm glad I didn't have to use it. I mean, he still got zapped a bit, but the decision to risk high-stakes against a basically helpless human was taken out of my hands, and when that happens, I'm usually saner for it. The man needed a good mental bollocking, but boy, did I not want to be the one to give it to him. Didn't fancy turning him into a vegetable. I've done too much of that rubbish in my life."
"So, the Axiothe Field acted on its own? Knew that Edge was causing problems, and decided to step in?" Tim asked, incredulous.
"See? What did I tell you?" Curtis muttered. "Deus ex machina."
"Yeah, well, this time, I'm perfectly happy to let the Deus run the machina," the Doctor said, pulling one hand down over his face in harried fashion. "I fed it Edge's DNA, but that's it. For once, I feel like my hands are clean. Huzzah – I managed not to kill, maim, or incapacitate someone."
"Don't do that to yourself," Martha whispered.
He smiled wearily at her, then continued talking. "It must've been watching the action through the TARDIS or something, and realised what the problem was. Which brings up an interesting question about how to disentangle it from the TARDIS' inner-workings, but that's for another day, on down the road."
"So, you won't use either of the devices we worked on?" Martha asked.
"Well, I suppose if I'm wrong about the Axiothe's permanent effect, and Edge becomes a problem again, I could use it," the Doctor said, wearily. "And that would give me time to refine it, and maybe engage the Axiothe's help with the mechanism. Maybe it's something I could work on in my spare time…"
"Your what?" she asked, with a chuckle.
"I know, right?" he said. "Although… Santorini."
"Definitely," she said, sheepishly. "But there will be no talk of the Axiothe in Santorini."
"Yes, ma'am," he agreed with a smirk.
"Santorini is in Greece," Curtis announced. "I don't understand the significance."
"You weren't meant to," Tim whispered. "Just let it go."
Curtis exhaled shortly, with exasperation. "Too many secrets in this group."
"As for the first device, as it were," the Doctor went on. "The messy one that was going to block Curtis from the Ifasma… well… that might depend upon the man himself."
Curtis drew up his hoodie tightly, and stared into his teacup. To Tim, it was clear that he had got there before the Doctor had voiced the concern, and had been sitting on the thought this entire time.
"Maybe the Deus will fix my machina too," Curtis said, quietly.
"Maybe," the Doctor echoed. "But I'm guessing that since you're not actively hurting anyone, the Axiothe will give you the choice, and leave me to be the one to refine and detonate. And since we now have your person, and are not trying to work simply from your personal effects, I actually can refine it, and try to minimise the damage to the rest of your brain."
"Choices. Not good with choices," Curtis muttered.
"What's there to choose?" Tim asked him.
"How else are we going to make enough money to live?" Curtis asked him. "This is the only thing I can do for us. If the Doctor takes that away, we will have nothing. I will have nothing. I'll be all lumpy and useless again."
"You have never been useless, mate," Tim told him. "You're my best friend. That's huge."
"Being your best friend doesn't pay the rent," Curtis murmured, pulling the string on his hoodie even tighter.
"No, but… maybe you could get a part-time job, see how it goes?" Tim suggested.
"I dunno… I dunno… I dunno…" Curtis began to panic, rocking back and forth in his chair. "What about Mrs. Marais, and Jessica? What will people like them do?"
"It's not your job to save everyone," Tim said. Then he smiled slightly. "It's the Doctor's."
Everyone at the table chuckled a bit, even Curtis, who stopped rocking.
"He's right, Curtis," Martha said. "Your job is to tend to yourself, and your brother. Live your life as best you can. Contribute to this world, as best you can. Fill the world with great art! Sell your drawings to people who only want them because they're beautiful! That's how you can help!"
"D'you think?" Curtis asked her.
"Sure – people do it all the time. Or, if you don't like that, then try to get a job, if you want – or at least work toward it. Maybe you could retrain some of your neural pathways in order to hold down more relationships with others, and maybe attend classes… I don't know! The world is your oyster. But making sure that Mrs. Marais can find a job, and that Jessica's boyfriend isn't a prat to her… none of that is your responsibility. Okay?"
"All of that is assuming that the Doctor doesn't electromagnetise the autism out of me," Curtis said, meekly.
"The more you cooperate, Curtis, the less chance there is of that happening," the Doctor reminded him.
"Can you give us a few days, Doctor?" Tim asked. "We need to have a family discussion."
Curtis burst into tight sobs then, once again, and covered his face with his hands.
"Sorry, did I say something wrong?" Martha asked.
"No," Tim told her, rubbing his brother on the back. "It's just a lot of information. A lot to think about, a lot of possible changes to navigate. One way or another, his routine will have to be modified, and that can be…"
"Okay, I understand," Martha said.
"He'll be all right in a moment," Tim assured the group, gently.
Martha instinctively reached into her pocket for a tissue, but realised that though she had nothing with which Curtis could wipe his tears, she did have something else.
Curtis calmed fairly quickly after the small burst of stress, and Martha said to the Doctor, "I still have all the pieces of his drawing in my pocket. Do you think it has power, even if it's torn up?"
"It's okay," Curtis said, sniffling. "It's finished, but I couldn't quite bring myself to put Stephanie and Daniel's faces in it, even though I knew he might try to throw me off the building. So instead, I drew the faces of a couple whom I knew wouldn't mind."
"Wouldn't mind?" Tim asked.
"Yeah. If my drawings of people cause them to do things, then I thought I should choose two people who wouldn't be damaged by… what the figures are doing in the drawing."
Everyone went silent. Tim and Stephanie frowned with confusion.
Martha and the Doctor looked at each other.
They had both separately had qualms about taking time, in the middle of a crisis, to see to themselves, their relationship, and finally consummate the connection they've had since day-one. They had seized upon an opportunity to melt together, become solid, with no interruptions, no thoughts of anything except one another, here and now.
The Doctor had been taken by surprise when Martha had suggested it, and had resisted at first. Then, after it was done (and done again), it was Martha who had had scruples and shadows of regret.
They both more or less agreed that it needed doing. They were not "square" with one another as long as he still had doubts about where her affections truly lie, and as long as she was feeling vexed by it. And in one act of love, they had managed to reassure each other, and become secure, thus freeing their minds to grapple with the Edge/Curtis/Stephanie problem.
But it had seemed a bit "unlike" them. Martha had wondered, at one point, what had "come over" her, to switch off her phone, to demand that the Doctor silence the TARDIS' comms, to take his hand and lead him off to bed so boldly. The Doctor had been ultimately delighted by it, but had marvelled in those moments at how much she had changed – how unflappable and adult she was, after having spent a year with him, uncertain and sometimes a bit adolescent. Something had indeed "come over" her, he thought; something positive, enlightened, and strong. The change was more palpable than ever, just then.
And now, locking eyes at the Malmays' kitchen table, they had the same thought. They had been drawn into this debacle several days previously because Curtis had created a picture of the TARDIS beside their sofa. What else had he drawn them into?
Martha had definitely seen Curtis look hard at her just before he began to fill in the faces.
The Doctor chuckled. "I know this goes without saying, but that's one hell of a superpower you've got, Curtis."
It was only about half-past nine on Thursday night when the travelling pair retired to the TARDIS. They hadn't slept the previous night (or day) for various reasons, and they both reckoned it was time to do so.
For Martha's part, she didn't have any choice. She was exhausted. They had all been running on adrenaline, and hers was now waning rather quickly.
Sleep. All other considerations would have to wait.
They remained parked on the roof of the building. They locked the TARDIS door, lay down on the Doctor's bed side-by-side, and drifted off. Well, the Doctor drifted off, eventually, after staring at the ceiling, thinking about all the pieces of the puzzle for about an hour.
In Martha's case, there was no drifting – there was an immediate thud into dreamland, for the next fifteen hours.
When she woke, it was noon, and she was unsurprised to find she was alone. She felt she had a mission from the moment she sat up, so she quickly showered, subsequently deciding that she deserved to spend the next day or two in loose-fitting sweats and a comfy tank top in which she usually slept. Then she dug into the pocket of her jeans, and extracted all of the little pieces of Curtis' drawing.
She made her way to the console room. "Have you got any cello tape?" she asked, before saying hello.
"Good morning to you, too," the Doctor said, from his position staring at something on the control boards. "Well, afternoon now."
She smiled. "Hi. Hope you slept well. Have I told you today that I love you? Have you got any cello tape?"
He laughed. "Yes, in the supply room. Why?"
"I'm going to put the drawing back together," she told him, walking away.
He followed her. "The drawing?"
"Yes, the drawing."
"The drawing?"
"Of course. What other drawing do you know of that needs putting back together?"
"Why would you do that?"
"Just to see," she said. "Aren't you curious?"
"To see how Curtis imagines you and I might look during sex? Not so much."
"Well, yeah, when you put it that way, it's kind of disturbing."
"What other way is there to put it?"
"Someone very talented, and very sensitive, created what is undoubtedly a very beautiful likeness of you and me in the throes of physical love, and if we don't tape it back together, it will be lost forever."
He was walking down the hall behind her. "You can't see me, but I'm rolling my eyes."
"Yeah, that was bad. What difference does it make why I want to see it? I just want to see it."
He sighed. "Fine. Do you, by any chance, also want a sandwich?"
"Yeah."
"I'll meet you in the supply room in ten minutes with a ham and cheese. Or… possibly peanut butter. I'm not sure what we've got in – haven't been to a market in a while."
She ate her cheese and pickle sandwich while sitting on a stool on one side of the supply table, and with the Doctor leaning against the wall on the other side of it. They chatted while she had her lunch – the sandwich came with an apple and a soda from a company that had gone out of business in 1975. Though, the Doctor had just picked up a pack of four, perhaps three months prior, during a jaunt to the early sixties.
"I'll leave you to it," he said, as she finished up. "I've been experimenting all morning with the Axiothe magnetism."
"Again?"
"It's a sentient heavenly body, Martha. There's so much more to learn! And I want to learn as much as I can about it before we use it on Curtis – if we use it on Curtis."
"How could we not use on Curtis? He has got to give up his power. It's too dangerous to exist. Isn't it?" she asked, with worry in her eyes.
"I think so," he agreed. "But... oh, but so many buts."
"Yeah."
He came round the table, kissed her, then took her plate and cup and disappeared.
Well, what say you? I don't think I would put the drawing back together if I thought I was in it, but that's just me. Humans do all sorts of crazy things...
I really could use a review... thanks for all the feedback so far. It's been fantastic to hear from you!
Thank you for reading!