Chapter Forty-One
Predictably, everything went to hell.
As a fuse box exploded by his head, the Doctor twisted out of the way of a Cyberman that reached for him and grabbed hold of the nearest body. Mrs Moore yelped at the sudden added weight of a Time Lord on her shoulders, nearly dragged her down to the ground, her arms pinwheeling in an effort to keep her balance. His foot slipped from beneath him, knee buckling, and he was contemplating exactly how painful falling headfirst down a flight of stone stairs was going to be when Rose caught hold of him by the collar and yanked him back up, temporarily cutting his oxygen supply off. Releasing him, she pushed him out of the way of another Cyberman – they were emerging from every single nook and cranny the corridor had, which was far more than the Doctor thought structurally sound – and he turned to catch a glimpse of Zoe as smoke billowed down the hall in thick, rolling plumes.
"CRANE!" She disappeared into the smoke without a backwards glance. "You murderer, get back –"
"Son of a bitch," he swore, ducking under outstretched arms and reappearing next to Mrs Moore who was flushed and wide eyed. "I guess Jack and Mickey knocked out the transmitter controls."
"You think?" She replied, breathless. "Could be they just don't like you."
"Also a possibility," the Doctor agreed and braced his back against the wall in order to plant his foot against the chest of a Cyberman and kicked it back, the loud clatter it made as it fell head over heels down the stairwell was satisfying. "Unlikely though. This lot don't know me."
Rose surged from the shadows with a war cry and slammed the fire extinguisher in her hands against a Cyberman's head. The Doctor looked on, filled with pride; Rose had a wonderful affinity with fire extinguishers that always proved useful no matter the situation. He watched as she hit the Cyberman again and again and again around the head before it stumbled back and staggered down the stairs, its crashing tumble signifying that it was down and out for the count, at least for a little bit. Rose dropped the makeshift weapon by her feet and wiped the sweat from her forehead, cheeks flushed.
"Our plans always suck," she complained. "Every time we plan it – where's Zoe?" Her entire body twisted in an effort to lay eyes on her sister, the sudden realisation that she wasn't there distracting her. "Where the fuck is Zoe?"
The Doctor pointed towards the thick smoke that was filling the room, casting them in a hazy, grey film.
"That way," he said. "I'm going after her. You two get out of here and do what you can to help the unconverted."
"We're not leavin' without you," Rose argued. "There are bloody Cybermen everywhere."
"Yeah, I know, and Zoe's chosen this time to go all Rambo on them," the Doctor told her. "I can't deal with that and keep you two safe at the same time. Go, do what you do best, and we'll meet back up at the TARDIS. Or sooner. Hopefully sooner, but you need to go."
"Goddammit." Rose stomped her feet and dragged him into a quick hug. His arms wrapped around her with a fierceness that took them both by surprise, lifting her from her feet in his quick farewell. When she touched the ground again, she curled her fingers into fists against his shoulders. "Be careful. Don't you dare die. An' bring my sister back with you."
"Cross my hearts," the Doctor promised, kissing her forehead swiftly before pushing her towards Mrs Moore, to whom he gave a reassuring nod. "Now go, and for Rassilon's sake be careful!"
Pivoting on his heels, he took off after Zoe.
A fire had been set in the control room, the smoke billowing out of it as the Cybermen within put it out, and it invaded the Doctor's lungs and set him coughing. Scrambling for the handkerchief in his pocket, he clamped it across his nose and mouth though it did little to stop the smoke from choking him. Not that it mattered. All that mattered was finding Zoe in the confusing chaos of Jack and Mickey's victory. He ducked into a side room and sucked in a deep breath of cleaner air before surging back out in search of her, annoyed that she had hurled herself off after someone she loudly proclaimed to be a murderer.
She was an intelligent woman. She knew that starting fights with murderers was a bad idea. She also knew that disappearing in the middle of a fight with the Cybermen was a bad idea, yet she did it anyway.
Humans.
"Zoe," he shouted for her. "Zoe, where are you?"
His answer came in the sound of a door shuddering beneath an impact. He hurried to it and tried the handle, pushing hard against the bodies that were leaning against it, and staggered into the room when it burst free. Bronze pipes ran along the edges of the room and up the sides, steam bursting out in soft puffs as they vented the heat and smoke out of the control room. One of them creaked and popped out of its bracket when a man in a long, blood-stained coat slammed Zoe against it, his hand around her throat.
Anger crashed over him and he strode forward, wrapping his hand around the back of the man's coat and throwinghim off of Zoe who slid to the floor gracelessly and gasped for breath. The man soared through the air and hit the wall opposite them, landing in a pile of limbs, dazed and pained. He looked up, furious, and the Doctor positioned himself between him and Zoe, rage wrapped around him like a shawl.
"You're not touching her again," the Doctor warned, voice cracking with ice. "Leave. Now."
The man heaved himself up off the ground and spat blood and saliva to the floor, pointing a bloodied hand at Zoe.
"Fuck you."
"Go to hell," Zoe rasped, a cough overtaking her, and the man was gone. The Doctor dropped to a crouch before her, her smoke-wet eyes glaring at him. "I had that under control."
"You absolute liar, you did not," he snapped, hands on her face as he examined her neck. "What the hell were you thinking running after him?"
"He murdered Thomas."
"Who's Thomas?"
"The president," she said, pushing his hands away and using his shoulders to help her stand, swaying into him. He vowed to lock her away in their room for at least two days to let her heal and sleep but also to reassure himself that she wasn't going to get herself injured or worse when his back was turned. "He killed him right in front of me. Shot him through the head. This blood on me, its his. I couldn't – it was –"
"Okay." His voice turned soft, the annoyance at her behaviour rushing from him at the clear sight of her barely holding it together. Swiftly standing, he drew her to him and cradled her against his chest. "It's okay."
"No, it's not," Zoe said. "None of this is okay."
"I know," he said gently, stroking a hand down the length of her spine. "But we'll make it okay."
She sniffed and wiped her eyes on his jacket. "Where's Rose?"
"She and Mrs Moore've gone to help the unconverted," he said. "Or escape. Probably both, I kind of wanted them out the building in case everything goes even more sideways than it already has. We should do the same."
"No." Zoe stepped back from him and he noticed how absolutely filthy she was: blood, smoke, and sweat covered her in a thick film. "I need to see Lumic."
"I know I had the idea of deactivating the emotional inhibitor and I still want to do that but I'm beginning to think seeing Lumic's a bad idea," the Doctor admitted. "We'll just deactivate it from wherever Jack and Mickey are. I'll give them a call and get them to find the code while we get the hell out of here."
She shook her head. "I want to see Lumic."
"I'm going to be brutally honest right now," he said, annoyance returning. "I'm not enjoying this streak of vengeance currently running through you. It's very unattractive."
"It's not vengeance," Zoe scowled. "It's taking responsibility."
"For what?" The Doctor demanded. "None of this is your fault."
"Lumic is," she said, shame spreading across her face and pausing him in his tracks, confused by its presence. "And I need to see this through. Go, if you have to, but –"
"You and I both know I'm not leaving you here alone," he interrupted, holding his hand out to her. "If we're doing this, we're doing it together."
Her hand slipped into his and squeezed his fingers gratefully.
The control room looked like a war zone. Scorch marks seared the walls and the white foam used to extinguish the fire slid down the computer banks and fell together in a loose mess in the large pool of congealing blood that was smeared across the floor. Judging from the drag marks that ran through it, the Doctor assumed that Zoe had been pulled through it and he regretted letting Mr Crane leave unharmed. He froze in surprise when Zoe freed her hand from his and dropped to a crouch by the blood and plunged her hand into the thick, foamy mess as she searched for something.
"What are you doing?" The Doctor asked, wondering if this was how his friends felt when he stuck his body parts into places they shouldn't go. "Zo, that's deeply unhygienic."
"It's not here," she muttered, ignoring him. "Fuck. It's not here."
"What's n –?"
"LUMIC!" She straightened from her crouch and spun to face the raised platform, the Doctor jumping at her shout. "John! Get out here, you coward."
"That's great," the Doctor sighed. "Just go yelling for the megalomaniac with absolutely no concern for your well being."
Her eyes cut sharply over her shoulder. "I'm looking for my phone. I dropped it earlier and it's not here any more."
"For Rassilon's sake," he muttered, barely resisting the urge to rub his eyes. "Your phone isn't that important. All the information's back up on the TARDIS as in, and I know you've got a stack of handsets somewhere on board."
"And what about the handset itself?" Zoe demanded, the sound of Cyber boots getting closer and closer to the control room. "It's from the 32nd century. What do you think the Cybermen'll do with that?"
"It won't matter when we stop them," the Doctor told her. "And it's certainly not worth you throwing yourself headfirst into danger."
"Pot, kettle, black."
Frustration with her rose up in his chest, annoyed at how easily she was able to trigger all the instincts and emotions he normally kept controlled. He was saved from starting an ill-timed fight when a Cyberman entered a room at speed and raised its hand in their direction. He lunged forward and grabbed Zoe around the waist, pulling her back to him as the Cyberman paused, listening to instructions being fed into its helmet. Movement caught their eyes, a flicker of it in the darkened room set back off the raised platform, and he felt Zoe's body stiffen with tension.
"Lumic, is that you?" Zoe called out, his fingers flexing on her, a warning to be careful. "What did you do with Thomas's body? Where is it?"
Silence was the only response, and she sank back against him.
"What would they do with it?" She asked, quietly.
He hesitated. "Incineration, most likely. They've no use for organic components at the end of the day. At least not the living kind."
"Right."
"Sorry," he murmured.
"No, I'm glad I know," she said though she didn't sound grateful. "Didn't know him long or at all really but I'm glad I know."
The Doctor tightened his arm around her waist and pressed a fleeting kiss to her temple before refocusing, eyes lingering on the Cyberman. It made him uncomfortable. A still Cyberman was generally a sign that something worse was coming.
"Oddly quiet for a Cyber control centre," he said. "Especially given what Jack and Mickey have done. Figured it'd be a veritable hub of activity but here we are and there's nothing doing. Bit boring really."
"Shouldn't have let Crane go," Zoe replied. "Then there'd be a spot of excitement."
"Crane?"
"The bloke trying to kill me just now," she said in a tone of voice that he associated more with what she wanted for dinner than murder attempts. "Lumic's goon. Tell you what, if they've taken him to a proper conversion chamber, I'm going to be really pissed. We've come all this way and talking to an empty room is a bit much even for – woah!"
Another Cyberman lurched through the smoky doorway and paused, blank face looking at them and analysing the situation, a silent conversation held with its partner. It stilled, blank face fixed in their direction, and the Doctor slowly released Zoe, patting her hip in an unspoken request that she not move before he turned and rapped his knuckles against the Cyberman's chest. Despite passing through a heat-filled corridor, the armour remained cool to the touch – not quite chilled but cold enough that it was off-putting.
"Where is he then?" The Cybermen stared down at him, never good conversationalists regardless of where they sprung from. "Good old Mr Lumic who does what anyone with a bit of genius and some money does: turn the world to chaos, I'd quite like a chat with him."
It tilted its head down, empty eyes staring into the Doctor's, the experience less unnerving than it was on Mondas. He was never able to get over how utterly terrifying the simple white cloth was, preferring the newer and improved version that held less humanity in their build.
"He has been upgraded," it said.
The Doctor caught Zoe's flinch within her reflection on the Cyberman's armour. He stretched out his hand behind him, waiting for hers to slip into his, curling his fingers around hers when it did so.
"He's just like you then?" He asked. "Tad disappointing, all told."
"He is superior," it replied. "The Lumic Unit has been designated Cyber Controller."
"So not just like you," Zoe said, stepping next to the Doctor. "Where is he? Tell him Zoe Tyler's back and not finished with our conversation yet."
The gentle sound of wheels against the ground broke through the alarms that blared distantly in the corridors beyond the room and mixed together with the quiet beep-beep-beep of the computers along the wall. Zoe turned and watched as, from the darkness, Lumic emerged; the sight of him dropping guilt and shame onto her shoulders. Clad in Cyber armour and with his wheelchair upgraded into something that closely resembled a metal throne, the superiority of his designation superior designation was clear and made clearer still by the large L that was embossed on his chest in place of the Cybus Industries logo.
"Zoe Tyler," Lumic said, his voice modulated as all the other Cybermen's were, and she wondered if it was only her imagination that heard the fumbling, up-and-down quality of Lumic's natural voice behind the upgraded voice box. "You fell into this universe in time to witness the birth of the Age of Steel and now stand in the presence of its creator. History will mark this day as the beginning of humanity's new golden age."
"Don't you mean steel age?" The Doctor asked. "If this is the Age of Steel and the golden age, what would that really make it? Iron and gold go together about as well as oil and water, but I suppose if you use magnesium as a binding agent you might get some form of alloy. Of course, magnesium metal is highly explosive so that probably won't help in the long run."
Lumic stared down at him. "You speak like an idiot."
"I've heard that before," he agreed, inclining his head towards Zoe. "Often from this one."
"This fool is the one you spoke of?" Lumic questioned. "The one who would bring hell upon me for killing you?"
"Yes."
"He does not look like much."
"You'd be surprised at the amount of trouble he can cause," she said, glancing around the room with a casualness that belied the tight grip she had on the Doctor's hand. "Your night seems to be going from bad to worse. Dear old Mr Crane's left you in the lurch, our friends seem to have cut out your transmitter, and it'll only be a matter of time before the unconverted storm the building looking for you. How does it feel to have your life's work come to nothing?"
Impossible as it was to read the emotion's on Lumic's face, the square metal concealing whatever human remained in him, through his modulated voice it was easy to hear his frustration and shallow grasp at victory.
"So London has failed, it makes no difference," he said. "I have factories waiting on seven continents. The Cybermen will take humanity by force if you refuse the peaceful assimilation I designed."
"Peaceful assimilation," Zoe mocked. "You're too smart to be this stupid."
"I offered humanity a quiet transition free of fear and pain," Lumic told her. "And you took that from them. Out of the two us, which is truly the more monstrous?"
"That'd still be you," the Doctor said, slipping into the conversation as Zoe's hand tightened its grip on his to an almost painful degree, tension running through her spine. "Spin this whatever way you want but you did this. You took humanity and twisted it to suit your own goals and look where that's got you: a cheap suit and a fancy chair. All your money and intelligence, you could've done anything."
"And I have," he said. "I will bring peace to the world: Everlasting peace, unity, and uniformity."
"Peace through force is no peace," the Doctor told him. "Where there's authoritarianism, there's dissent. Always. And I've been around humans a very long time to know that they won't accept you deciding their fate for them. They'll keep fighting until they've got nothing else to give, and then they'll fight some more."
Stepping forward, the Doctor left Zoe's side and slipped his hands into his pockets. Zoe followed his movements, wondering what he had up his sleeve and hoping it was better than the cold, scared anger that was her only weapon.
"If they want to die fighting, so be it," Lumic said. "The end will be the same."
"How are you not seeing this?" He strolled the room with a languid, careless pace, hopping over the mess on the floor and shooting Zoe a small wink that brought a small, confused frown to her forehead. His eyes flicked to the security cameras in the corner in an attempt to explain his behaviour. "I keep hearing about what a clever man you are but I'm not seeing any evidence of it right now. Think about it, Lumic. Think about all of human history. Throughout time, humans have never been very good at doing what they're told, even when it's for their own good. They don't like being ordered about. Now, make it seem like their idea and they'll hop, skip, and jump into the boiling water but force them? Nah. Never going to happen."
Lumic's head tilted, as though a glitch in his system had jerked his head to one side. "What is your name?"
"The Doctor," he said, passing by the computers. "I'd say it's a pleasure but – eh."
He seesawed his hand back and forth, pulling a face.
"A redundant title," Lumic dismissed. "Doctors need no longer exist. Cybermen never sicken."
The Doctor leaned carelessly against a console, one hand in his pocket moving and the other attempting to catch Zoe's attention by wriggling madly over his stomach. Normally, his various gestures and swagger towards triumph made sense to her but, in that moment, she had no idea what he was doing or why he was pointing discreetly at the cameras in the corner.
She lifted her shoulders in a small, confused shrug and the whites of his eyes flashed as they rolled in exasperation.
"And is that it?" The Doctor questioned. "You used your genius to get rid of your sickness and in a burst of misplaced philanthropy, you decide to do the same for all the human race. But what happens next?"
"We succeed."
"At what?" He asked. "Once you remove all of that lovely human morality with the back and forth and the contradictions that drive a Time Lord mad, what exactly are you going to succeed at? Cybermen have one goal and one goal only: upgrading. If you've got plans of turning Earth into a new empire, think again. It won't be Earth with them here, it won't be your planet any more. All you've done is take away the human ability to strive and imagine. Remove their mortality and what's there for them to do any more? If you have all of time then you get lazy, and you can trust me on that, I know."
"You talk too much," Lumic decided.
"He really does," Zoe agreed. "But he's making a point here, Lumic. Your idea of a golden age is always going to be that: An idea."
"This is it," the Doctor told him. "Today, right now, if the conversions continue and Cybermen take the planet by force, this is what the pinnacle of human achievement will be. Because you're not going to be human after today. You'll be Cybermen forever. A metal Earth with metal people and metal thoughts without that little burst of infuriating ingenuity that makes humans so special. You'll have stripped that right out of them along with all of their emotions."
"What use are emotions?" Lumic demanded. "Fear is a weakness that holds us back. Love is a disease that softens us. Without them, we will be better."
"You're wrong," he said. "Fear teaches us who we are. Love shows us that life's worth living."
"Spoken like man who has never known grief and rage and pain."
The laugh that left the Doctor's mouth sucked all the warmth from the room and sent a shiver down Zoe's spine.
"Are you kidding me? Me?" Age stole over his expression, all the long centuries of his life etching deep lines into his face, and she wanted to do something – anything – to make it better, aware that it was a suffering she wasn't able to carry for him. "I've known more grief than you've ever experienced, more pain than can be imagined, and the rage I've felt? Planets burned because of it, so I know emotions, Lumic. I know the good and the bad."
"Then why would you not want to be set free?" Lumic replied. "You could live a life without pain simply by cutting them out."
"No." The Doctor shook his head. "Because I've known all of those horrible, painful emotions that sent me down a dark path but I've also known love, friendship, happiness. If you take away the bad, you'll also be stripping away the good. And if that's the option, then you might as well just kill me."
"Then I take that option."
"But it's not yours to take," he argued. "You're a Cyber Controller. You don't control me or anything with blood in its heart."
"You have no means of stopping me," Lumic reminded him. "I have an army, a species of my own. What do you have?"
"More than you'll ever know," the Doctor said. "Because an army's nothing against those ordinary people. They're the key. The most ordinary person can change the world given the right tools and the opportunity. Sometimes the universe comes together just right to put the right idiot –" his eyes flicked to the camera again and Zoe frowned. "In the right place at the right time. All it takes is for this idiot to find the right numbers and the the right code."
Lumic stared at him. "What are talking about?"
"No, no, bear with me a second because you'll want to hear this," he said, holding up a finger to keep the attention on him. "So let's say this idiot – for clarity's sake, we'll call him, I don't know, how about Mickey? That's a good name. Mickey the Idiot." Zoe glanced back up at the camera, the Doctor's plan slotting into place as he spelled it out for her. "So, imagine it: Mickey the Idiot is in front of a computer and he knows all about computers because who doesn't these days? He knows how to get past firewalls and passwords and stuff to look for – oh, I don't know – the code behind the emotional inhibitor in the Lumic Family database under –"
He leaned forwards and licked the Cyberman's arm.
"Doctor!" The sharp chastisement snapped from Zoe's mouth before she stopped herself. "You don't know where it's been for Christ's sake."
He worked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. "Nowhere exciting apparently."
"Jesus."
"But I'm going to say binary nine," the Doctor said. "And away he goes. Mickey the Idiot's going through the old family database looking for this code, this tiny little code that seems like it's nothing but is actually really quite important and, let's be honest, the difference between life and death for Zoe and me here. So he's working and working, typing away at that computer of his, and he'll do it because Mickey the Idiot's not an idiot and I don't mind putting our lives in his hands."
Zoe stared up at the camera, wondering if Mickey was actually able to hear them through the camera or if it was simply a visual feed as the Doctor seemed to be banking on the fact that Mickey could hear them.
"Your words are meaningless," Lumic said. "Your hypotheticals reductive."
"Maybe, but I wanted to keep it simple for you," the Doctor said with an easy grin, his phone beeping in his pocket with a message alert. He slipped it out and tapped the screen open. "Sorry, this is important. I don't normally like to answer the phone when I'm in the middle of something."
Zoe felt energy return to her, aware that they were going to have to run soon.
"You don't like answering your phone full stop," she said.
"I answer when you call," he replied. "Not my fault other people aren't as interesting as you." He looked back up at Lumic and grinned. "Ask me what your biggest mistake was?"
"No," Lumic said.
The Doctor deflated. "Oh, come up. It's not as much fun when you don't ask me questions."
"What was his biggest mistake, Doctor?" Zoe asked, humouring him and enjoying the delighted smile he sent in her direction.
"Thank you very much for asking, love," he said, twirling his phone in his palm. "His biggest mistake – and do pay attention here, Mr Lumic – was making every bit of technology compatible with everything else."
He clucked his tongue and set the bottom of his phone that miraculously fit into the docking station, uploading the code Mickey had sent straight into the main computer system that began to distribute it to every Cyberman across London.
"What is that?" Lumic demanded, hulking body twitching and jerking in his chair. "Tell me what that is!"
The Doctor tilted his head back to look up at him. "Just a nice little cancellation code. Those plans of world domination are seconds away from crashing down around your ears. Shame about that. Well, I say shame, I mean good riddance."
The Cyberman at his side buckled. Knees collapsed beneath it as its emotional inhibitor switched off and the human within reasserted itself, horror yawning through it as it realised what it had become. Heavy, metal hands clutched at its head and the rumbling, echoing cry of pain that ripped through its modulated voice box sent a flinch snapping through Zoe. Its body jerked and convulsed, the dam breaking and flooding their systems with an overdose of human emotion and adrenaline that wreaked havoc with the technological implants seared into its body.
Screams echoed back through the corridor and sounded out across London as the lack of emotional inhibitor took effect.
The Doctor watched as death slammed into the Cyberman before him, its humanity rewriting its programming and the incomprehensibility of what it was driving it mad. Dopamine, norepinephrine, endorphins, anandamide, and serotonin raced through its remaining organic system and it dropped heavily to the floor, face first, fingers spasming even as death claimed it for its own.
I'm sorry, he thought.
The other Cybermen that stood guard over Lumic writhed in pain as it tried to rip the casing from its body, succeeding though Zoe wished it hadn't; the sight of what lay beneath the helmet was an image that was going to haunt her.
Lumic rose from his city, a towering metal giant that cast a long shadow, voice shaking with rage and fear. "What have you done?"
"I gave them back their souls," the Doctor said. "They can see what you've done to them, Lumic, and it's killing them."
Zoe stepped close to the Doctor and dipped her hand into his pocket, startling him at the unexpected touch. Curling her fingers around the sonic screwdriver, she hesitated for only a moment before rushing up the wheelchair ramp to Lumic. Fear lodged itself in the Doctor's throat, vision whiting out in his panic, only to watch her duck under his outstretched arms and jam the sonic screwdriver firmly against the L on the front of his armour, sending a large electrical charge through the technology in his body and into his brain. Lumic's body convulsed, heavy arms flying out and missing Zoe by an inch as she ducked, catching him on the fall down and lowering his inert body back into his wheelchair.
The Doctor stared at her, waiting for her to move, but she stood above him as though frozen in place. Cursing under his breath, he leapt over the fallen Cyberman and pirouetted around the blood and foam, dashing up the steps to take hold of her cleanish hand. Her feet were rooted to the ground and her eyes never wavered from Lumic's deceased form; he put an arm around her waist and forcibly pulled her back.
"No time for this," he told her. "You need to move those legs of yours."
"I killed him," Zoe said, blankly, horror yawning through her. "What have I done?"
"Stay with me," the Doctor whispered in her ear, hearts breaking for her. "I need you right now. Please stay with me."
An explosion rocked the room, the building shuddering as something outside and close by went up in flames. Unable to wait for her to gather her wits to her, he took her by the hand and the elbow and dragged her from the room, catching his sonic screwdriver before it was lost to the quiet despair of the control room.
"No, wait." She struggled against him, trying to push back. "My phone. We can't leave it behind!"
"I'm pretty sure this building's going to go up in flames soon," the Doctor told her, pulling her back. "Your phone doesn't matter. The Cybermen are done!"
"But –"
"Enough," he interrupted loudly, impatience making him sharp, and he took hold of her hand firmly. "It doesn't matter. We need to hurry. Please keep it together until we get to safety and we'll deal with everything then. Right now, I need you to run."
Hesitation and confusion slowed her down before her common sense reasserted itself, survival instinct kicking in, and she soon matched his pace as they raced through the corridors littered with the bodies of the Cybermen.
The Doctor took a corner at speed and kicked a door that led up open. "Quick, quick, quick."
Relieved that she did as she was told, the Doctor glanced behind him to take in the damage before turning on his heels and following her. He found Zoe at the top of the stairs attempting to force open a fire escape door that was jammed shut.
"What's the point of an emergency fucking exit if it doesn't open in an emergency?" She demanded, ramming her shoulder against it one last time and then stepping to one side, gesturing. "Superior biology, go."
He braced himself and slammed his shoulder into the door, the lock breaking, and he staggered through the door and into another corridor. Zoe followed him through and caught him by the back of his jacket.
"Why's everything exploding?" She asked. "Who decided to blow stuff up?"
"It's probably the unconverted," the Doctor said, rubbing his shoulder. "If you woke up in the middle of a conversion chamber, you'd probably want to blow things up too. My bet is they'll be storming the building soon. You know how revolutions go. We've been involved in some here and there."
"Always accidentally," she replied, catching her breath. "We don't typically start them though."
"We are more of a catalyst," he agreed. "I blame the TARDIS myself. She's the one who takes us to most places."
"You've been a bad influence on her," Zoe said, peering out of the narrow window that looked down onto the courtyard below. "Goddammit. Lumic's men are still putting up a fight. They're gunning people down. Idiots. Don't they know what's coming?"
"Sunken cost fallacy," the Doctor explained. "They've invested too much effort to be told they're wrong now. I think we should keep going up. If we head to the roof then we'll have a better lay of the land. And I think Mickey and Jack should hopefully have the Zeppelin still tethered to the building. That'll be our way out."
"I do want to ride in a Zeppelin," she said, wiping the blood and foam from her hands onto the front of her maid's uniform. "It's that scene from Indiana Jones, y'know? Love it."
"I know you do," he said, smiling. "Hey, the Hindenburg didn't happen here by the way. I think that might be the deviation point between our universes. Funny how things work out, isn't it?"
She looked up at him, the emergency lighting casting her face in a strange glow, and she breathed out.
"I killed a man today," Zoe said, the admission sending ice through his veins that only melted with her next words. "Lumic. I killed him."
"He was already dead," the Doctor told her. "The second he had that upgrade. It was never going to end any other way for him." Shame stole across her features, and she looked away. "Zoe, look at me. Hey." He reached out and touched her cheek, gently guiding her eyes to his. "You're not to blame. What you did there at the end, that was a kindness some might argue he didn't deserve but I'm glad you did. I'm proud of you for it."
"No –" the word shook as it left her mouth, filling him with confusion. "Don't say that. Not when I –"
Another explosion shook the building again and sent Zoe tripping into his arms.
"Best finish this conversation later," he said, grabbing her hand again. "Come on."
Furious shouts of those freed from the conversion chambers reached Zoe and the Doctor as they raced up the stairs, loud demands for Lumic to come out and face the crowd, unaware that his body was cooling within his Cyber armour. The door at the top of the steps opened easily and they burst out onto the open rooftop where Rose was waiting at the bottom of a rope ladder, her arm waving wildly at them when she caught their entrance, twisting to yell something up into the Zeppelin.
"Thank God," she exclaimed, slamming into both of them with a quick hug, one hand latched around the ladder. "We saw you on the security cameras but we weren't sure if you were goin' to make it out."
"Not us," the Doctor said. "We've always got a way out. Thought you were helping the others?"
"Do they look like they need help?"
"Yeah, good point," he admitted. "Things okay here?"
"Yeah, Mickey's got the Zeppelin under control but Jack wants us movin' so up the ladder, both of you," Rose ordered."Chop chop."
"Ladies first," the Doctor replied.
Rose put her feet on the ladder and began to scale the rope rungs, moving swiftly and efficiently towards Jack whose pale face peered out of the emergency hatch. The Zeppelin gave a shudder as Mickey activated the engines, and the Doctor pointed the sonic screwdriver at the thick cables attaching it to the roof, snapping them loose. One arm stretched in the direction of the stern cable, he pointed his finger firmly at the ladder, indicating that he was quite happy to wait for his death if it meant getting her up first.
Zoe shook her head. "Chivalry's not that an attractive quality, you know."
"I beg to differ," he said. "Up."
The Doctor looked back over his shoulder as Zoe began the climb and took in the building that was falling apart under his feet, the factories surrounding them going up in flames, the screams of the Cybermen wailing through the air. Planting his feet on the ladder and keeping a firm grip as the wind buffeted them, he felt the Zeppelin take flight, inching away from the top of the building and guiding them to relative safety. He hadn't climbed a rope ladder in years – perhaps centuries – and he had forgotten how hard it was to climb one. He focused on the stretch of Zoe's long legs as he tried to find his footing, a smile appearing on his face: At least the view wasn't bad.
Without any warning, Mickey's voice boomed out into the air around them.
"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. Please keep a firm grip on the emergency ladder so as not to plummet to your untimely deaths. Enjoy your ride."
"This is high, this is high, this is high." Zoe's muttered words caught on the wind and were carried down to him. "Oh god, this is too high."
"Don't look down," he called up to her.
"Oh, there's some good advice," she shot back, sarcastically. "Don't look down. Thanks, Doctor, I'd never have thought of that."
Zoe dragged herself up the rope ladder, terrified of plunging to her death in the flames below, and trembled when Jack and Rose grabbed hold of her and pulled her into the Zeppelin. She crawled over Jack, who was lying on the floor with cushions placed beneath his knees to protect them, and shoved herself up against the wall, wrapping her arms around her knees as she held them to her chest. She watched the Doctor's head appear, his arms following as he used Rose and Jack's hands to help him in; her stomach bottomed out when he missed his footing and fell two inches, catching himself easily. Pushing himself in the rest of the way, he fell face first onto Jack, and Rose slammed the hatch shut. The sudden absence of noise forced an awareness on Zoe of the ringing in her ears.
"Hello," Jack greeted, cheerfully, patting the Doctor's head and smoothing his wild, smoke-stained hair down. "Had a good evening?"
The Doctor groaned into his chest. "Cybermen. They're the worst."
"Absolutely agree with that," he said. "Mickey's flying a Zeppelin though."
"It's very cool," the Doctor agreed, peeling himself off of him. "How are your knees?"
"I can't feel anything so I'm going to assume good," Jack greeted, eyeing her with concern. "Hey, Zo, you look like hell."
"Feel like it too," Zoe said into her knees, staring at him over the top of them. "It's been a rough night."
"I bet."
The Doctor got to his feet and winced, a muscle in his back twanging with pain; he stretched carefully, attempting to work it out only for his eyes to fall onto Zoe who looked tired and small on the floor. He dropped his hand from his back and held it out to her, worried about her emotional wellbeing now that they were out of immediate physical danger. She wiped her eyes with the edge of her oversized jacket and took it, letting him help her onto her feet as Jack shifted and sat with his back against the wall.
"You did good," the Doctor said, softly, drawing her close to him. "We made it out."
Her throat moved with a swallow. "Yeah."
Mickey's head popped out of the bridge's door. "Good, you're both alive. Overdid it a bit with Mickey the Idiot, didn't you?"
"Had to make sure you knew I was talking to you," the Doctor said, Zoe tucked safely under his arm, Mickey's grin faltering as he took in her appearance. "Don't recall telling you to steal a Zeppelin though."
"You didn't tell me not to either," he said. "I improvised."
"It's not as nice as I thought it'd be," Zoe said, examining their surroundings from where her temple lay against the Doctor's chest. "Bit boring to be honest."
"There's a golden toilet in the back," Jack told her. "As in actual solid gold."
"Rich people," Rose said, disapprovingly. "Bunch of twats."
"No arguments from me," the Doctor said. "Hey, Micks, if you're here talking to us, who's flying this thing?"
"Gran."
"Mrs Smith?" He clarified. "Your blind grandmother?"
He shrugged, unconcerned. "What's she goin' to crash into up here?"
"Rassilon," the Doctor breathed, torn between annoyance and laughter, settling on the latter for simplicity's sake. "You know what, fine. It doesn't matter. Just find somewhere to put us down, yeah? And has anyone heard from Jake and Pete?"
"Nothing," Jack said from the floor. "People were fleeing the conversion chambers so we hope they're heading to the TARDIS. They know we were going to meet on the South Bank. Even Mrs Moore hasn't been able to get in touch with them."
"Jake's not that good at answering messages," Mrs Moore said, emerging with a tray of tea and biscuits from the back, unconcerned with the fact that part of London was burning beneath her. "But he knows where to go. If he's made it out with Ricky and Pete, he'll meet us on the South Bank."
"Can you get us there?" Rose asked Mickey.
"Course I can," he said. "Not that hard. It's kind of like playin' video games."
"Excellent," the Doctor said.
"Although," he considered, frowning out of a dark window. "I'm not sure I actually know how to park this thing."
The screaming finally stopped.
Pete slowly lowered his hands from over his ears and raised his eyes above the blood-slicked table to peer out through the conversion chamber's entrance. Lines and lines of Cybermen lay on the ground, limbs twitching in the final throes of death, and the one that had seared a black burn mark on the wall behind his head was slumped against the edge of the entrance, liquid leaking from its dark eyes. The silence broke only with the ringing in his ears and the cries of the survivors that began with one long, loud wail that drew others in until weeping echoed off the walls and replaced the horrible, dying screams of the Cybermen. Falling back, the ground cold and wet beneath him, he looked to Jake and Ricky at his side.
"They did it," he said. "Those mad bastards did it."
Ricky shivered. "Who did what now?"
"Mrs Moore and those weirdos from the other universe," Jake said, arms looped around his best friend, knuckles white where they gripped his shoulders. "They were planning on stopping the Cybermen and they did it. God dammit, they actually did it."
"Jackie..." Pete breathed, grabbing hold of the table and heaving himself up. "I've got to find Jackie."
"Wait," Jake urged as Pete staggered through the blood. "Pete, don't, she's already dead!"
Ignoring him, Pete left the room by leaping over the Cybermen and disappearing into the darkness. Jake sank back, a frown creased across his forehead, before he looked down at Ricky who was collapsed half on top of him.
"Are you okay?"
"I don't know," Ricky said, cold and shaken. "The last thing I remember was telling that Mickey bloke to run and then I wake up here with my arm nearly half off and you and Pete fucking Tyler of all people keeping those Cybermen at bay."
Jake touched near the deep incision that ran around the curve of Ricky's shoulder. "It's not half off. You might have a scar at the end of it though."
"It hurts!"
"Like that time you sprained your ankle and wouldn't stop complaining hurts, or the time you stubbed your toe and it was like the world had ended hurt?"
"Like the sprained ankle, you ass." Ricky grunted as he pushed himself up, struggling to his feet, reluctantly allowing Jake to help him. He sobered at the sight that stretched out before them and exhaled long and slow. "Shit, man. Look at that."
"We were right," Jake said though he felt no joy because of it. "People thought we were crazy but we were right all along. If people had fucking listened to us, we could've avoided this. If they'd listened to Nomi and the others instead of calling us conspiracy theorists, they'd still be alive." Anger brought his hand down on the table that rattled under the force of it. "We fucking told them!"
Ricky caught his arm. "Hey, hey. It's done. It's on them for not listening to us. We'll make sure they know it as well. We won't let them pretend they weren't warned about all of this when things get back to normal. The president's going to have to answer for being in bed with Lumic, just like the rest of them. It's not over."
Jake blinked, pale cheeks flushed red. "It's not?"
"Course it's not," he said. "Someone needs to hold the toffs in power accountable and we Preachers are just the people to do it."
"Yeah," Jake said, a knot of tension easing in his chest, a smile beginning to grow. "Yeah, you're right. It's not over. We've still got a lot of work to do. Reckon Mrs Moore will stay around and help us?"
"I don't know," Ricky mused, rooting through a bin of discarded clothes for his shirt that had been torn in two, choosing instead a large polo neck that smelt of sweat. He pulled it on and decided that the warmth it offered was a fair trade off for the smell. "She's got that family of hers she thinks we don't know about. She'll probably want to go back to them. I know I would. How's my gran? She okay?"
"She's fine," Jake told him. "Went off with Mickey and his boyfriend. They'll have kept her safe."
"They bloody well better have," he said, stepping out of the conversation chamber and pausing. He turned so suddenly that Jake took a step back. "Thanks for coming for me, man. I appreciate it."
"It's what mates do, isn't it?" Jake replied, colour climbing up his neck and settling in his cheeks. "You'd have done the same for me, no question."
"Too right I would've." Ricky held out his fist and Jake grinned as they bumped knuckles. "Where's the rendezvous?"
"South Bank," he said. "Apparently their ship or whatever is there."
"D'you actually believe them about that stuff?" Ricky asked. "Parallel universes and everything?"
"I mean...Mickey looks exactly like you," Jake said with a shrug. "And I'm pretty sure they're not the weirdest thing that's happened today, so parallel universes? Sure, why not? It makes about as much sense as a rich twat building an army of cyborgs."
Ricky snorted, blood seeping through the grey polo neck from his wound. "Fair point. Which way did Tyler go?"
"That way, I think," Jake said, gesturing vaguely into the dark. "He might be trouble. His wife's one of the Cybermen. She's already dead but I don't know if he'll accept it."
Ricky nodded and silently absorbed the information, leading them through the chaos of fallen Cybermen and weeping survivors.
It was a scene lifted from a nightmare.
He had to turn his eyes away from those Cybermen that had ripped their armour off, the sight of their torn flesh turning his stomach, acutely aware of how close he had come to such a fate. His arm gave a painful throb at the sight of an elderly woman who had woken mid-conversion, her eyes glassy and blank as blood dripped from her and onto the floor, her daughter weeping into her knees by her, having missed death by a minute. The sheer waste of life infuriated Ricky, his anger at Lumic growing with each step he took; it wasn't just Lumic though, it was the people that supported him, turned a blind eye to his unethical practices, and who cut him deals and dined with him. They each had blood on their hands as much as Lumic.
Ricky swore he wouldn't let them get away with it.
Not when it could have been him on that table.
Or Rita.
Or Jake.
Or Mrs Moore.
He was lucky; the people he loved had survived – at least that was the assumption he was working under until proved wrong – but there were going to be thousands and thousands of people who had dead to mourn. This night was going to change Great Britain for generations and he wanted to make sure it changed for the better, not that he knew how to go about doing that. Before working for the Preachers became too dangerous to live a normal life – Lumic's men trailing them and setting up observation posts outside Rita's house – he worked as a driver for the local supermarket. He knew nothing about holding government's accountable; though, as he took in the death and destruction, he felt he could learn.
"There." Jake's hand touched his before he pointed. "You see him?"
Pete was on the floor, cradling a heavy Cyberman in his arms, and Ricky wondered how he knew which one was his wife until he stepped closer and –
"Jesus."
He knew Jackie Tyler, or at least he had done. She had been friends with his mother before Odessa killed herself one grey afternoon and let her young child find her body in the bathroom. He remembered her from the funeral and how kind her eyes had been and how soft her embrace was, her perfume wrapping around him. Occasionally, since then, he had seen her picture in the paper when she attended events with her husband or promoted whatever charitable endeavour she had decided to put her name to; but, the woman lying within the Cyber armour looked nothing like the woman from his memories or her pictures.
She looked destroyed.
"Pete." Jake edged past Ricky and gently laid his hand on Pete's shoulder, the man's face stripped free of any pretence and laid bare the grief that was etched on his features. "I'm sorry."
"She's gone..." Pete whispered. "My Jackie...she's gone."
"She is," Jake agreed, quietly. "And I'm sorry."
"What am I supposed to do without her?" Grief bowed his shoulders, hunching him over Jackie's body. "I don't know how to live without her. I don't...this can't be happening. It can't be. We were supposed to have more time. I need more time to get it right, to fix my mistakes. This can't be how it ends. It just can't be."
Jake shifted until he was able to crouch next to him, arm around his shoulders. "What can we do to help? Tell us and we'll do it."
"Give me my wife back," he murmured. "Give me our future back."
"Shit," Ricky said under his breath. "Mate, we can't do that. She's gone."
"No." Pete shook his head, arms tightening around Jackie's mutilated corpse. "I can – I can't – she's not gone."
"Pete." Jake shook his shoulders. "She's dead. She died the moment they cut into her on the table. She was dead hours ago. I'm sorry but you need to let her go and come with us. There's work that needs to be done. We need your help to do it."
Ricky wasn't quick enough to stop the expression that whipped across his face, grateful that only Jake saw it. When it came to rebuilding the country, Pete Tyler wasn't exactly his first choice to help them. Jake threw him a sharp look of rebuke and he swallowed his reservations back.
"He's right, man," he said. "We need to make sure something like this doesn't happen again, and we can't do that with you on the ground like this. So, come on. Get up and let's get to work. We'll mourn later."
Pete stared up at him, pain and grief behind his eyes. "I'm not leaving her here. I can't just leave her here. She'll be scared alone in the cold like this."
Ricky bit his cheek to keep his impatience in check. The man had just lost his wife and needed grace from those around him.
"We'll take her outside, yeah?" Jake said. "Put her somewhere safe so you can come back for her. How does that sound?"
"Trucks," Pete said, sounding as though he was speaking through a thick glass his words were slurred and quiet. "There are trucks outside."
"That's it, we'll take her to one of them," Jake said.
"I'll take her home," he continued. "That's where she belongs. Home."
Jake sighed but nodded, aware that it was a lost battle, and the three of them managed to lift Jackie up a foot from the ground. The weight of her armour and the fallen Cybermen in their path made it difficult to carry her from the building, and Ricky's arm spilled fresh blood into his stolen polo neck, his back aching by the time they passed through the wide entrance and into the cold air. The sky was dark though he knew it wasn't long until dawn as the birds were waking up and there was a smell in the air that he associated with dawn. Carefully, they lowered Jackie to the ground and –
– an explosion ripped through the air, the force of it sending them from their feet, cries of terror lifting into the night.
"The fucking building's gone up!" Jake stared wide-eyed and shocked behind Ricky and Pete, watching as the buildings that houses Lumic's offices collapsed in on themselves, rubble spilling out in a dangerous tidal wave as a silver Zeppelin drifted slowly away. "Jesus Christ."
"We need to get out of here," Ricky said. "Where are the trucks?"
"I'll go," Jake said, tearing his eyes from the burning building. "Wait here."
People streamed around him as they fled the power station. Most fled into the darkness, others did as Jake was doing and stole a car; not that Ricky blamed them. He wanted to get as far from the factory as possible, hide himself away behind a locked door so that he was able to feel safe again. The thought of home with Rita's décor that she hadn't updated since the 1970s and its particular smell of spices, perfume, and bleach was all Ricky wanted in that moment, and he pressed his knuckles against his chest to rub the knot of emotion from under his heart, eyes falling to Pete who was sat on the floor with his wife's head in his lap.
"I knew her," Ricky heard himself say. "Jackie, I mean. She was friends with my mum back in the day."
Pete glanced at him up. "Your mum?"
"Odessa Smith."
Surprise settled around his eyes. "You're Essie's boy? I remember you. Jackie looked after you a bit when we were still living on the estate. Caught you trying to eat some protein bars I was flogging down the market once."
Ricky swallowed. "I don't remember that."
"You were only about three or four at the time, I reckon," he said, eyes drawn back to Jackie's damaged face. "We never had kids. Not for lack of trying mind. Just another thing I couldn't do for her. Another thing that made her unhappy."
Ricky didn't know what to say to that and was relieved when Jake came back.
"Found a truck," he said. "Engine's running. There'll be enough space in the back for –" hesitation tripped his words. " – Mrs Tyler."
Bracing himself against the pain, Ricky joined them in lifting Jackie again and it was the work of five agonising minutes before she was inside an old army truck that Jake had emptied of everything unnecessary. Pete paused at the driver's door and looked back at them.
"I'll help you," he said. "With what comes next. I just...I need to take care of my Jackie first."
"We appreciate that," Jake replied. "Thank you."
"D'you remember my gran?" Ricky asked. "Rita Smith, she lives in the Docklands?"
"Yeah, I remember her," Pete said. "She's still alive?"
"Course she is." At least he hoped she was. "Point is, you can find us there. She'll know where we are if we're not there."
"Right." He lingered at the door before nodding and sliding into the seat, drawing the seatbelt across his torso and glancing back at Jackie, knuckles tightening on the wheel. "I'll be in touch."
Ricky and Jake watched him drive away, headlights illuminating lines of people that were walking away from the factory and heading back into London, huddled together for warmth and security.
"Think we'll see him again?" Ricky asked.
"Yeah, I reckon we will," Jake said. "How does he know your gran?"
"He knew my mum back in the day," he said with a dismissive wave that made him wince as it pulled against his wound. He pressed a hand to it and grunted. "Christ. Let's get going. I don't know about you, but I'm ready to call it a night."
"Come on then," Jake said with a small smile. "It's an hour or so's walk from here."
"Can't you steal us another car?" Ricky complained. "Everything hurts."
"That was the only one left," he said. "Unless you fancy taking one of those."
He pointed at a large refrigerated lorry that Ricky would have been able to drive had his arm not lost feeling down to his fingers. With a sigh, he nodded and the two of them set off into the night.
The Zeppelin was parked awkwardly in the middle of the street. Mickey had done his best at setting it down only to crush a Marks and Spencer's at the last minute. Not that it mattered. Most of London was in a state of disrepair and one broken building was barely noticeable among everything else. As it was, there was also no one there to watch the descent of the Zeppelin as the majority of the population had been taken to the conversion chambers in Battersea and the Millennium Dome. The streets were quiet and only wild animals snuck out of their urban hiding places, sniffing at rubbish bins and tentatively stepping out into the unusual stillness.
A fox paused in the middle of the road and watched the Doctor cross the street with a bag of stolen sandwiches dangling from his arm and a styrofoam cup of hot black coffee in the other. Catching sight of the fox, he gave it a cheery smile only to have a pointed nose turned up at him, bushy tail turning in his direction as it padded off.
The Doctor watched it disappear into the shadows cast by the street lights and slip down the path to where the TARDIS sat. Dark and lifeless, his ship was dead, although he hoped temporarily, and the Time Lord technology containing the dimension within its snug exterior wouldn't last forever. The dimensional dam was going to break if he didn't get the TARDIS out of the parallel universe; the thought of what might happen if the interior dimension broke free while they were sitting in London made his blood turn to ice. It was best to avoid that completely, though he knew that he had at least a year or two before that actually happened as while his people had been – as Brother Lassar of the Krillitanes told him recently – indolent in recent millennia, their early technological development was built to last.
The more selfish reason for wanting to leave the parallel universe was less to do with protecting it from the effect of a dimension popping into existence where it shouldn't and more to do with the fact that being cut off from his ship was like a knife digging into his brain.
The sharp suddenness of their link sundering reminded him of those hazy, awful days after Gallifrey's death. While there was a blank stretch of time that he didn't remember, his memories only kicking in four days after his crash landing in Foreman's junkyard with a throat raw and bloodied from screaming, the first and overwhelming memory he had was of finding the empty space in his mind where Gallifrey and his people had once been and how the TARDIS had wrapped herself around the spot to ease the pain, holding him tight as he slowly grew used to the emptiness.
Without his ship, he didn't know what he would do with himself.
It had been him and the TARDIS for so long – his one, beautiful constant – that being without her was something he wasn't able to imagine.
"Sandwiches," the Doctor announced, shaking the dark thoughts from him and holding up the plastic bag of food. "If you're hungry, come and get one."
"Toss one this way, would you?" Jack asked from his wheelchair that was parked next to the bench Mickey was sat on. "Any filling, I don't mind."
"Egg mayo?"
"Anything but that."
The Doctor laughed and threw him the vegetable sandwich he had stolen for him, following it up with a ploughman's that he aimed at Mickey. He turned and jumped at discovering Rose standing right behind him, the trait for sneaking up on him running through all three of the Tyler women.
"Don't s'pose you've got a –?"
"Chicken mayo?" He pulled it from the bag. "As if I'd get you anything else."
Her face lit up. "Thanks, Doctor."
"Mrs Moore, Mrs Moore," he said, sliding towards her as though dancing. "Wasn't sure what you like so I got a selection. Egg mayo, tuna mayo, ham and cheese, just cheese, cheese and pickle –"
"I'll take the ham and cheese, thanks very much." There was a looseness about her that the Doctor thought sat well on her, the worry over Lumic and Cybus Industries draining the years from her face even as she looked around every few minutes for Jake, Pete, and – they all hoped – Ricky. "Normally break and enter for food, do you?"
"Only on special occasions," he replied. "And it was only from Tesco's so they won't really miss it. Bon appétit."
Turning on the balls of his feet, Rose joining Mrs Moore at the wall that overlooked the River Thames, he made his way over to Zoe who was sat at a distance from everyone else with her coat from the TARDIS draped over her lap in an attempt to keep her warm. He had offered to find her a proper throw like Jack's but she shook her head and took her coat from the mess that was the console room. The blood on her body, her clothes, and in her hair had dried into an uncomfortable layer on her skin, and he watched as she lifted her hand to scratch at her cheek, flecks of blood falling away like dandruff.
"Coffee," the Doctor said, holding the cup out to her. "And your favourite."
"Coronation chicken?"
"One in the same." He took his seat next to her, thigh pressed along the length of hers, close enough that he heard her small, barely audible sigh as she took her first sip in nearly twenty-four hours. "Taste all right?"
"Slightly caramel," Zoe said. "Probably the beans, but it's great, thank you. I needed a cup."
"And something to eat," he said, unwrapping the top half of her sandwich for her. "This'll help you feel a bit better. You know what you get like when you don't eat for a bit."
She took the food from him. "I'm not that bad."
"You really are," he disagreed, remembering many occasions when he wasn't sure if she wasn't actually annoyed about something or simply hungry before he had learnt to keep food on his person for her to snack on. "Eat up. The ride back's going to be rough and you'll want something to throw up when we get to the other side." Her mouth froze around the sandwich, eyes flicking to him. "Sorry. Travelling from one universe to another is difficult at the best of times and we'll be riding a small burst of energy that shoots us straight through the crack between our universes. The only control I'll have is making sure we don't hit the wall and bounce back."
Slowly chewing her mouthful, she frowned. "That hard?"
"Like threading a needle while riding a horse blindfolded." Slipping an arm around her shoulders, he unwrapped his cheese and pickle sandwich one handed. "I'll do it though. I just can't make any promises to keep the contents of your stomach where they should be."
"I trust you," Zoe said, letting her weight sink against him with a quiet murmur of contentment. "It'll be nice to get home. I know we've got the TARDIS to put to rights – and Jack, for that matter – but I don't like being here. It's not just the Cybermen. It's everything. It feels wrong here. Like the air's different or something."
"That's probably psychosomatic," the Doctor said around a mouthful of food. "You know we shouldn't be here so your brain's making things seem out of place. Admittedly, the Zeppelins probably don't help matters."
"That and –" she turned her coffee cup around and tilted her head to one side to read the writing. "Folgers. Isn't this an American brand back home?"
"Think so," he said. "That or Canadian."
She rubbed her eyes, narrowly avoiding smearing coronation chicken across her forehead, and settled deeper against his chest. The sky was beginning to turn grey as the sun started to rise over the Houses of Parliament, a definitive signal that their long night was at an end. Zoe was more than ready to leave the parallel universe behind and wash the night from her, hoping that as the blood swirled down the drain and her bruises healed, the feeling of shame that cloaked her would go with it. Resting against the Doctor's chest helped calm the frayed nerves and the tempest of guilt that swirled within her, but she was certain turning her back on the universe and never returning was what she needed more than anything else.
"This may not be the best time to tell you this," the Doctor began, brushing the crumbs he had scattered against the top of Zoe's head from her. "But I like the outfit."
She scoffed around her sandwich. "Of course you do."
"What does that mean?"
"I'm wearing a French maid's outfit," Zoe said. "Isn't this one of the many, many fantasies that all blokes have?"
"I keep telling you, I'm not a bloke." He slipped his fingers against her waist and lightly tickled her there, her body twitching, elbow pressing back into his ribs as a warning. "And it's not so much the outfit, really, it's more how it looks on you. If you ignore the blood and the dirt, you look gorgeous."
"Shut up," she said, reluctantly smiling into her coffee. "The French maid fantasy is overdone and rooted in sexism. It speaks to man's belief that women are there to service them be it cleaning for them or through sexual activities. I expect better from you."
The Doctor made a sound of agreement in his throat. "All very valid points. However, if you'll allow a counterpoint?"
"Go on then," she said.
"Your legs look amazing in it."
Her sudden burst of laughter drew their friends attention and she pinched his thigh in retaliation. Pleased with himself for making her laugh, a triumph considering the day she had had, he looped his arm around the front of her chest and pulled her closer to him as she popped the last of her sandwich into her mouth and chewed. The food in her stomach and the burst of much-needed energy that raised her blood sugar levels did as the Doctor predicted and made her feel marginally better. Her head no longer throbbed with pain and though her wrists hurt and while the various bruises she had accumulated were sore where they rubbed against her clothing, she felt more like herself.
"So if I'm the French maid in this fantasy of yours," Zoe started, screwing up her sandwich rapper and aiming it at the nearest bin, satisfied when it went in the first time. "What does that make you?"
"The wealthy older man obviously in love with you."
Her fingers tapped lightly against his thigh. "This character of yours wouldn't happen to be Scottish, would he?"
"Ah, does my wee bonnie lass miss the sound of the Highlands?"
It was no surprise to him that she liked the Scottish accent he was able to slip in and out of. After their meeting with Queen Victoria she had put the accent to good use and his body gave a throb with the echo of remembered pleasure.
She squirmed against him. "A bit."
"More than a bit, I reckon." His nose brushed under her ear and a shiver ran through her when his lips grazed the soft skin beneath it, her breath catching as he breathed her in, the slow burn of arousal starting in the pit of her stomach. "I'm open to taking your fantasy for a whirl."
"My fantasy?" There was a breathless quality to her voice that forced the Doctor to swallow back a groan, fingers tightening on her waist, the low sounds of conversation from their friends reminding them that they weren't alone. "You're the one who brought it up."
"Did I?" He hummed a thoughtful sound and smiled against her neck. "Gold star to me for an excellent idea."
Turning her head, she bumped her nose against his, the freckles spread across her cheeks blurring at their closeness. Instead of responding, she tipped her mouth up and kissed him, sending a ripple of surprise through him. Zoe was not one for public displays of affection, tending to frown at him if his hand rested on her back for too long or if he brushed her hair from her face in front of too many people, and he hadn't thought she would be the type of instigate a kiss in public, particularly in front of their friends. As he lifted a hand to brush across her jaw, tasting the traces coffee and curry on her lips, he wondered if it was to be their new normal.
If it was, he had a list of locations he wanted to kiss her in.
A small sound of protest slipped from his throat when she pulled back, his mouth chasing hers and grazing against her lips before she was out of reach.
"Sorry," Zoe apologised, her hand patting his thigh lightly. "I shouldn't be kissing you when you're still sore from all that sex. D'you need some chapstick? Water for the dehydration?"
The Doctor pressed his nose into her dirty hair and laughed. "You think you're so funny."
"Your laughter only encourages me," she said, a grin tugging at her mouth. "And I'm very funny. Many people have found me to be one of the funniest people they know."
"Yeah? Who's that then?"
"You and Reinette."
"Right, okay," he laughed. "The two people who've loved you find you funny. Do you think maybe Reinette and I might be a little biased?"
"Nope, can't think why," she said.
"You're ridiculous," the Doctor said, fondly. "But more fool you. Charging up the power cell yesterday got rid of all those aches and pains so I'm afraid it's you –" he booped her gently on the nose, withdrawing his finger before she bit it. "– holding us up."
"I am a little achy," Zoe admitted. "I got my ass kicked today but I did win the fight so I'm not sure if that's a tally for me or for him."
He traced the Gallifreyan word for love on her shoulder. "The man from earlier? What was his name again? Cranium? Chrysler?"
"I've known you for over ten years," Zoe reminded him. "Three of them actually spent in your company. Do you honestly believe that I'm going to fall for that I-don't-care-if-you-tell-me-it's-really-fine tone of voice you're using?"
His mouth twitched, fingers looping back around and starting the word again. "I'm using a tone of voice?"
"What good would come of me telling you anyway? It's not like we'll ever see him again." She finished her coffee and aiming it at the bin only to send it bouncing off the edge. Mickey watched it roll along the ground before getting up to throw it away for her. "Thank you!"
"You're a shit shot," Mickey told her.
"The Doctor's annoying me, that's why."
He shook his head in response, already falling back into conversation with Jack, and the Doctor pressed his cheek against hers, rubbing his stubble across her skin.
"I'm annoying, am I?"
"Deeply," she said, shying away from him as a smile twisted across her mouth. "I love you for it anyway."
"Good," he said, kissing her cheek and pulling back. "I doubt the TARDIS is going to be liveable for a bit. We might have to stay in a hotel until she gets her energy back. I'm a little worried about Jack's knees though. I can manage his pain but the longer we leave the second surgery the worse the recovery time's going to be."
"Can't you take the Vortex Manipulator?" Zoe asked. "I know you think it's an awful way to travel but if the TARDIS isn't up for it, it might be the best option."
"Maybe, I'd rather not though and not just because it's offensive to time travel but it wouldn't provide any protection for Jack's knees," the Doctor said. "If I have to, I'll take the TARDIS when she's got enough fuel in her and do a two-way trip: drop Mickey and Jack off with the Vortex Manipulator and then go back to Cardiff to finish refuelling."
"We'll figure it out," she promised him. "As long as we're not here. I really hate the Cybermen. I know they weren't responsible for what happened to me on Mondas but they're just awful. Honestly, I'd rather the –" Daleks any day caught itself before it left her mouth, aware that saying such a thing to the Doctor of all people was not advisable. "You know, I'd rather anything else but the Cybermen."
"Perfectly understandable," he said, kissing the top of her head. "And I'm just eager to get you home to fuss over you a little bit. You're annoyingly stubborn to being fussed over in public."
"Because I'm an adult not a child."
He huffed. "Yes, dear."
Zoe let her mind drift though she shouldn't have. Her phone was missing and while the Doctor had used his to deactivate it remotely, the fact that the technology was unaccounted for concerned her. The building had blown up, which was a point in its favour of being gone, but the unfinished business made her uncomfortable. Part of her wondered if she was focusing on it to avoid thinking about other things – namely Lumic – but every time her mind touched him, she wanted to cry, the ruthlessness of her actions in forcing an early conversion left her untethered. Desperate for something to ground her, she turned into the Doctor properly and draped her legs over his, taking him by surprise.
"I'm cold," Zoe lied.
He wrapped both arms around her. "Want me to steal Jack's throw?"
"No." She scrunched her nose. "Maybe a little."
"We'll be off soon enough," he promised her, rubbing a hand over her thigh to warm her up. "The power cell's ready to go, I just need to put it back and start the TARDIS up. Since we're waiting though, do you want to tell me what's bothering you?"
She twirled his tie around her fingers. "Aside from the obvious that is?"
"Of course."
Zoe tugged lightly on his tie, shame slipping through her again. The Doctor loved her. She knew that from his words and actions. Of all the things in the universe she questioned, his love for her wasn't one of them.
Yet, she worried.
His code of ethics was so strong that she knew he had thrown people out of the TARDIS for breaking it in the past – Brain Door was the one that came instantly to her mind. And she understood why that was. He had himself broken his own vows and used his friends as the things that held him accountable and stopped him slipping into the darkness that he had once seen reflected back in the form of the Valeyard.
If he relied on his friends to keep him on the straight and narrow, he leaned more heavily on Zoe who knew better the consequences of straying from his ethics. She saw firsthand what damage he had done to himself by disregarding the vow of the Doctor during the Time War; she lay in bed next to him as he twitched and mumbled, hands gripping the sheets as torment washed over him. And despite knowing the consequences of her actions, she had chosen to convert Lumic early in an act that went against everything he stood for simply to give her a few moments that allowed her to escape.
She worried that his love for her might not be enough to outweigh what she had done to Lumic.
"I –" Zoe began, heart slamming into her chest, her grip on his tie tightening until his hand came up to loosen it. She splayed her fingers across his chest and pressed her fingers over his left heart to feel the steady thud of it. "I did something. It was bad."
His shoulders eased. "I told you, what you did for Lumic was a kindness. Can you imagine what a mob would've done to him if they'd got hold of him?"
"I'm not talking about that," she said, mouth dry. "I'm talking about –"
"It's Jake, he's here!" Rose's voice interrupted her, and Zoe felt relief crash through her like a cold wave as she was granted a temporary respite from his disappointment. "Ricky's with him! Ricky's alive!"
Mrs Moore leapt off the wall and sprinted towards her friends, the three of them meeting in a tangle of limbs that ended up on the floor, while Mickey carefully escorted Rita to her grandson, the two of them hugging tightly with tears wetting their face. The Doctor watched from the bench but his attention was caught by Zoe who had closed her eyes and flexed her fingers against his chest, concerned at whatever it was that she was keeping to herself. Aware that it wasn't the best time to have the conversation, he silently tabled it and brushed a kiss over her cheek, gently removing her legs from him.
"I'm going to get the TARDIS ready to go," the Doctor told her, eager to be on their way now that they had assurance of Jake and Ricky's survival. "Five minutes, we need to be on our way."
She nodded, hand falling from him. "Okay."
"Hey." He stroked her dishevelled eyebrow back into place with the pad of his thumb. "Whatever it is that you think you've done, I love you. There's nothing you can do that'll stop that."
Her eyes closed, a soft sight leaving her. "I know. I love you too."
The Doctor's hand lingered before he let it drop and made his way to the TARDIS. Zoe watched him step inside, missing the warmth that normally spilled through the open door, before she stood up and tucked her coat over her crooked arm. She was going to have to tell him sooner rather than later; a lesson had been learnt not to keep things from him for too long – or at all – and she knew he would find out eventually. She wasn't as discreet with her emotions as she might have liked when in his company.
"What about Pete?" Rose asked as Zoe approached, eyes fixed in fascination on Ricky Smith who looked identical to Mickey. "Did he – is he okay?"
"He's alive," Jake told her. "His wife didn't make it though."
"Jackie's dead?" Zoe asked, a strange jolt passing through her stomach at the thought of it. Jack's hand touched hers and she pushed away the faint grief for the woman who wasn't her mother to give them a nod. "Zoe Tyler, hello."
"Hey," Jake greeted. "And yeah, his wife was converted. We were able to get her body out but he wanted to take her home. Man's in shock and wouldn't hear of anything else. What about you lot? Everything taken care of?"
"Yes," Mrs Moore said. "Lumic's dead and the Cybermen aren't Cybermen any more. Should think most of them are dead now. Don't know what's going to happen to the ones who aren't."
"Something for you to deal with then," Jack said, smiling when they looked at him. "Come on, the president's dead, the government's in disarray. Who better to deal with things than the only people who saw it coming?"
"There's a woman who can help you," Zoe said. "A politician. Her name's Harriet Jones. Call her at her constituency office in Flydale North. She's the leader back in our Britain and does a bloody good job of it. She'll be just the person you need, especially now the president's dead."
"The president's dead?" Ricky asked, surprised. "How? Was he converted?"
"No, he was executed by Lumic for refusing an upgrade," she replied, pulling Thomas's jacket tighter around her. "I'm not sure how much of your government is left actually. A lot of them were at Pete and Jackie's party. Like I said though, Harriet Jones. She's a woman you want in your corner."
"We'll call her," he said. "Thanks."
"Hey-up, there's the mad bastard," Jake grinned as the Doctor came up behind Zoe and rested his hands on her arms. "Was that you that blew the building up then?"
"Actually nothing to do with us," the Doctor said. "I think it was probably a mixture of those that were freed from the ear pods followed by whatever Cybermen survived the emotional inhibitor being turned off. Good to see the both of you in one piece. Ricky, close call."
"Too close," he agreed, his good arm around Rita. "Thanks for the rescue."
"Nothing to do with me," the Doctor said, nodding at Mickey. "Him and Jack knocked out the transmitter as well as found the code for the inhibitor." He suddenly noticed the absence of Pete Tyler. "No Pete? Is he –?"
"Alive but busy," Ricky said, succinctly.
"Ah." The Doctor didn't fully know what that meant but it didn't matter as time was of the essence and the TARDIS was creeping back into his mind, touching the edges of the space where she lived in cautious welcome tinged with utter exasperation at their current situation. "We need to be saying our goodbyes now. Our ship's about five minutes out from being ready to go and we can't miss our window."
"So quickly?" Mrs Moore asked, dismayed. "You can't stay for a bit?"
"Sorry, but we don't belong here," he apologised. "Too many people in a parallel universe can have a detrimental effect on the fabric of things. Besides, I'm not sure this universe can handle two Smith boys."
Ricky and Mickey grinned at each other.
"Two of them," Jack said as though the thought had only just occurred to him. "I can't tell you what I'm thinking right now."
"Stop it," Mickey said, laughing.
"Yes, please stop it," Ricky said, frowning.
"Might be nice to go," Jack considered. "Not just because my knees are pretty much like jelly right now, and not the fun, tasty kind of jelly with hypervodka in it, but also does anyone else notice how the air tastes different here? It's like pepper or something."
"That's what that is," Rose exclaimed. "I thought I was havin' an allergic reaction to a salmon pinwheel."
"You had a salmon pinwheel?" The Doctor asked, betrayed. "When? I love salmon pinwheels."
"Back at Pete's place," she shrugged. "Nicked one from a servin' plate, didn't I?"
"I'm not entirely sure you lot are sane," Mrs Moore laughed. "Here you are just having saved the world from a fate worse than death and you're talking about salmon pinwheels."
"Sanity's overrated," the Doctor told her. "Life's much more fun when you're on the edge."
She smiled "I'll take your word for it."
"Nah, I think you're about to find out for yourself," he said. "There are still Cyber factories all across the world. Lumic was thorough and well-planned. Someone's going to have to go and make sure they're all shut down – advise governments and the like."
Mrs Moore raised her eyebrows. "What, us?"
"Who else?" Ricky asked, and she turned to him in surprise. "Come on, Mrs M. We've spent years investigating Lumic, documenting what he was doing. We've got the names of every CEO in the world who did business with him and the location of all his international factories. I think we're the best people to take the lead on this. Someone's got to tell the world what really happened here tonight, and it might as well be us."
Rita patted her grandson's chest. "If one of my grandson's can travel the universe, then the other can save the world here. You'd best come back and visit mind. I'll set you plates for Sunday dinner. Make sure you get here in time for church though. Lord knows you lot probably need a good church service to help your minds."
"Is that possible?" Mickey asked, the hope in his eyes searing through the Doctor when he turned to look at him. "Can we come back and visit?"
"I'm sorry but no," the Doctor said, hating the way Mickey and Rita deflated in front of him. "Once we leave, that's it. We can never come back."
Jack reached and took Mickey's hand in his.
"You could stay," Ricky offered. "All of you could stay. I don't know what you've got in that universe of yours, but you could have a home here. Stay and help us fix this. Between the lot of us, we'll have it fixed in no time at all."
Rita reached out and took Mickey's other hand. "Stay with us, sweetheart."
"I –" the want surged up and took Mickey in its grasp, startling him with how powerful it was, but the sensation passed, washing through him in moments. "I'm sorry, Gran. I can't. This isn't my home. An' I'm not about to leave Jack behind."
"I'll stay with you," Jack said, the Doctor's hands tightening reflexively on Zoe as Rose drew in a sharp, startled breath. "If you want to stay, I'll stay with you."
"What? No!" Rose looked between them, panicked. "You can't stay. We won't see you again. Doctor, tell them. Tell them they can't stay."
"Rose," Zoe said, gently even though nausea swirled within her at the thought of leaving them behind. At her back the Doctor struggled to find his words, thrown by the sudden possible future that stretched out before him where Mickey and Jack weren't there, where he would never see them again. "If they want to stay, that's their choice."
"No," Mickey said, squeezing Rita's hand gently, feeling the thin fragility of her bones beneath her papery skin. "You told me to find my people. These are my people, Gran. My family. Besides, Rose an' Zoe'd never leave their mum behind, the Doctor'd never leave Zoe, an' I can't leave them. I need to go home."
Rita looked up at him, his face reflected back in her glasses, and her chin wobbled.
"I'll miss you," she said. "And I'll always think of you."
Mickey swept her up into his arms and hugged her tightly, tears slipping free of his eyes that were squeezed tightly shut. He had never thought to see his grandmother again and the last twenty-four hours had been a gift even with the chaos and the destruction. He had the opportunity to introduce her to Jack and to gain her blessing, which meant more than he could say, but it was over now and he needed to move forward with his life and let go of the guilt that surrounded her death. Carefully, he set her back onto her feet and looked to Ricky.
"Fix her carpet," he said, roughly. "You don't want to live through what happens if you don't."
"I'll do it as soon as I get home," Ricky promised.
Mickey stepped back to Jack, hand resting on the back of his neck, unable to put into words how grateful he was that he was ready to give up his life and settle down with him in a parallel world. He looked over at Rose who wiped the tears from her face, hands shaking at how close she had come to losing both him and Jack, and she sniffed just as the Doctor's phone beeped.
"Rassilon," the Doctor hissed. "Time's up. Right, we need to move now. Everyone who came here with me, TARDIS, now." He twirled his phone around and held it out to Mrs Moore. "Here. This has the cancellation code on it. Use it to get it out to the rest of the world. And whatever you do, don't lose this phone. It's from the 32nd century so just be careful with it."
Mrs Moore took it and slid it into her pocket. "I'll keep it safe."
"I know you will," he said. "Well, Mrs Moore, it's been absolute pleasure."
"The pleasure's been mine, you mad sod," she said, laughing when he hugged her, patting him on the back. "Thank you for everything."
"Make sure you hug your husband and kids extra tight when you see them next," he said into her ear before releasing her. "They're going to be so proud of you."
"This has been nuts," Ricky said, shaking Mickey's hand firmly. "But good to know there's another me out there fighting the good fight."
"Same here," Mickey said, clapping him on his good shoulder as Jack shook hands with Jake in a fond farewell and Rose and Mrs Moore hugged their goodbyes, only Zoe on the edge of the group, not having had the chance to form a bond with the Preachers. "Good luck with everything, and look after Gran, yeah?"
"Course."
"Come here, my boy." Rita opened her arms for Mickey one last time and he fell into them, hugging her tightly, trying to sear the moment into his memory. "You forgive yourself and live a good life. Be the best man you can possibly be, Mickey Smith, and you'll never let me down."
Hot tears pressed at his eyes once more. "I love you, Gran."
"I love you too." She kissed his cheek and smoothed a hand over his head like she had done when he was a child, turning to Jack. "And you, you make sure you look after him and love him like you're supposed to."
"I will, I promise," Jack said, accepting her hug with unconcealed delight. "Thanks, Gran."
"All right, all right, everyone who doesn't belong in this universe, inside," the Doctor ordered, pointing at the Preachers. "You lot, good luck. You're going to need it."
Mrs Moore looked the TARDIS over with interest, itching to explore inside the doors that revealed a warm orange glow that steadily grew in brightness as more power returned to its engines. It seemed too small to contain five adults but they walked in one after another, Jack's wheelchair easily passing through the doors, and she was reminded of a clown car. Leaning, she attempted to get a better look inside and caught a glimpse of something bright and blue before the Doctor reached the door and blocked her view.
"Wait," she called out, unable to resist one final question to the maddest man she had ever met. "How is that wooden box a space ship?"
The Doctor opened his mouth only to pause. He looked back towards his four new and unexpected friends and a slow grin unfurled on his face, unable to resist.
"Magic," he said and shut the door on Mrs Moore's whoop of laughter. He grinned and turned around, taking in the sight of the people he treasured preparing for takeoff in the ship that he loved. "Definitely magic."
