The smell of apple grass greeted her before she even opened her eyes. It was as good a way to start the day as any if she had to start it out by jumping. Rey loved apples and firmly believed that whoever invented apple grass was deserving of an award.
She didn't recognize where she'd landed. Apple grass meant either the future or a different planet, probably both. Wandering to the top of the grassy hill, she looked out and saw a sight that was both old and new.
The sound of a familiar wheeze had her turning to see the TARDIS materializing a few feet away. Odd. She usually didn't arrive first, but it was of no matter. The Doctor opened the doors, expression brightening up immediately when he caught sight of her. He was younger than from when she'd last left him. "Rey!"
"Hello again."
Rose followed the Doctor out, startling a bit when she noticed her. She quickly looked away, closing the doors in an almost subdued manner. A sudden tense silence filled the air between the three of them, leaving Rey utterly confused. She had the distinct feeling she'd missed something. The last time she was with this Rose, they had been at odds with one another. Granted, it had been mostly over the stress of the Doctor's regeneration, but that had only been the excuse that gave them cause to argue.
Looking back, she felt ashamed at how she'd acted. She should have tried harder to explain herself or get through to Rose. There had been so many ways that Christmas could have gone terribly wrong, and it was only through sheer luck that things hadn't ended up worse.
"Hello Rose," she said evenly. The past was the past, but she could try to make amends now.
"Hi," Rose replied, sounding a bit strangled. Still, it was better than being ignored, which meant it was already an improvement to most of their interactions. And Rey had no idea what to do.
She looked to the Doctor, hoping he could explain the strange situation they'd somehow stumbled into. His expression was cloaked, almost unreadable even to Rey. She needed time to decipher it, something he didn't give her when he smoothly slid into a grin.
"Have you been waiting long?"
She shook her head, studying him a moment longer before acquiescing to his silent request. She wasn't giving up on figuring him or Rose, out, oh no, but she could take her time. "Are we on New Earth?"
"Brilliant. Yes, yes we are. It's the year five billion and twenty-three, and we're in the galaxy MB7." He walked over to the stretch of grass that gave the best view of the city below. Flying cars zoomed towards the skyscraper-filled metropolitan. "Not bad. Not bad at all!"
"That's amazing," Rose gushed, awkwardness forgotten. "I'll never get used to this. Never. Different ground beneath my feet!" She jump up and down a bit, emphasizing her point. "Different sky… what's that smell?"
"Apple grass," the Doctor explained, giving Rey a conspiring look. He was well aware of her fondness for it.
"Apple grass," Rose repeated breathlessly. She shared an easy grin with the Doctor and linked arms with him. "That's beautiful! Oh, I love this. Can I just say… traveling with you… I love it."
"Me too," he agreed. Rose laughed, deep and free. "Come on!" Letting go of her, he dashed off towards the city.
Rey chased after him, for once not minding the running. It took her a second to place the bubbly feeling in her chest, but she was actually feeling giddy. It had been a childhood dream of her to run across and open grassy field. She felt like a character in a book.
"Me three," she told him when she caught up, breathless and red in the face but feeling more alive than she had in a long time. They were waiting for Rose to catch up.
"'Me three' what," the Doctor asked.
"I love traveling with you," she said honestly. "I always remember how lucky I am for having met you. Thank you, Doctor."
His cheeks went pink, and he blinked a few times like he was having difficulty processing her words. Rey wondered if she'd said something wrong, but it didn't sound very different from what Rose had just said. Unless there was a reason she wasn't seeing that meant Rose was allowed to when she wasn't.
She opened her mouth to apologize, but suddenly, the loveliest smile broke out on the Doctor's face. He telegraphed his moves, making it clear that he was reaching out for her and giving her plenty of time to pull away if she was uncomfortable. His hand was warm against the thin barrier of her gloves.
"I should be the one thanking you," he said mysteriously, and then he was pulling back as Rose finally caught up.
"How the hell do you run so fast," she asked between gasping breaths.
The Doctor shrugged off his coat and laid it on the grass so they could sit. They lounged for a little while, allowing the refreshing breeze to cool them off from their impromptu race. Or Rey and Rose did. The Doctor looked completely unaffected by the exercise. He gave them some background while they rested. "So the year five billion—the sun expands, the Earth gets roasted."
"That was our first date."
Date?
"Spoilers," he scolded. "Rey hasn't been there yet." His tone and expression gave her no indication that what Rose said was or wasn't true. If it was, it certainly explained a lot. It also made her chest hurt like someone had managed to grab hold of her heart and was currently squeezing very tightly.
"So anyway," the Doctor continued, "planet gone, all rocks and dust, but the human race lives on, spread out across the stars. Soon as the Earth burns up—oh, yeah, they get all nostalgic—big revival movement… but find this place! Same size as the Earth… same air… same orbit… lovely! Call goes out, the humans move in!"
"What's the city called," Rose asked.
"New New York."
"Oh, come on," she said dubiously.
"It is," the Doctor insisted. "It's the City of New New York! Tell her, Rey!"
"It's technically the fifteenth New York since the original," she said, pushing down the unease.
"So that makes it New New New New New New New New New New New New New New York," the Doctor said brightly, not missing a beat. Instead of laughing, Rose just smiled tenderly at him. "What?"
"You're so different," she said.
"New New Doctor," he joked, chuckling a little.
For a moment, Rey felt like she was intruding in on the moment. But then he turned and smiled fondly at her, and something loosened in her chest. "Can we see it," she asked. There hadn't been much time for sightseeing the last time she was here, nor much inclination after the Face of Boe delivered his final message.
They all got up. Strangely, the Doctor was suddenly nervous. "Well—I thought we might go there first." He pointed to the large building along the coast in the distance. A green moon was on the side of it.
"Why? What is it," Rose asked.
"Some sort of hospital." Rey froze. He spun to face her, abandoning his attempt to put on his coat. "Not that kind of hospital," he added quickly, winching when he realized how terrible that sounded. "I mean, we— we don't have to. And you don't have to, if you don't want to, of course you don't, you can just—"
"Did you get a message," she asked him, not caring that she was interrupting. Her own voice sounded so far away.
"Yeah. I got this." He pulled out the psychic paper. "Ward 26—Please Come" was written on it.
When she touched it, it felt familiar. In fact, it felt like the Face of Boe had the last time she'd met him. Was he dying? He was supposed to deliver a message before he died; was that why he asked the Doctor to come? He died in her past—the Doctor's future—but time could be rewritten. What if he was dying now? They were strangers, but he'd felt familiar. And his words had helped her so much, anchored her. She might have actually gone mad if she didn't have them to help her.
"Breathe. Rey, you have to breathe—"
"Promise you won't leave me? Promise you won't leave me in there?"
"Of course, Rey. Of course I'd never leave you. I promise, but you have to breathe." She took in a deep shuddering breath, unaware until now that she was shaking. "That's it," the Doctor said. His hands were fisted at his side, his entire body tense. He wanted to touch her, but she was glad he'd held himself back. "Just breathe."
She felt foolish. More than that, she felt embarrassed. What was wrong with her? She'd nearly had a panic attack at the mere mention of a hospital. That had never happened. She had been nearly fine going into Albion Hospital that time when Jack first joined them. And Bedlam had been terrible, but she'd managed that visit as well. Panicking this much was ridiculous.
Rose was looking at her like she'd grown a second head. "Sorry. Sorry, I don't— I don't like hospitals."
"You don't have to apologize," the Doctor said gently, but also firmly. "You never have to apologize for this, Rey."
She nodded, not feeling strong enough to risk a glance at his face to see if he was telling the truth or not. It wasn't anything she held against him, just people had a tendency to lie when they were trying to be comforting. Even she did it.
They didn't touch, but the Doctor adamantly stayed by her side, not so much as taking a step too far. She probably looked like some overgrown kid who needed to be minded, but it helped her nerves as they walked through the doors. It was too bright inside. Too white. The smell of antiseptic and dry air made her skin was to crawl off.
Actinium. Aluminum. Americium. Antimony. Argon…
"Bit rich coming from you," Rose said, bringing her back to the present.
"I can't help it! I don't like hospitals—they give me the creeps," the Doctor said. That made Rey feel a little better. His distaste was clearly not as strong as hers, but if even the Doctor didn't like hospitals, then maybe she wasn't so abnormal after all.
"The Pleasure Gardens will now take visitors carrying green or blue identification cards for the next fifteen minutes," the PA announced. "Visitors are reminded that cuttings from the gardens are not permitted."
"Very smart," Rose noted of their surroundings. "Not exactly NHS."
"No shop," the Doctor complained. "I like the little shop!"
"There isn't one in Nevermore either," Rey said, trying to keep her breathing even. Arsenic. Astatine. Barium. Berkelium. "Or a garden."
Rose gave her another strange look. Not for the first time, she wondered if the other woman actually knew where and why she was institutionalized. "I thought this far in the future, they'd have cured everything."
"The human race moves on, but so do the viruses," the Doctor said. "It's an ongoing war."
A nurse crossed their path, nodding politely at them before continuing on her way. She looked like Novice Hame, which only cemented Rey's theory that it was the Face of Boe who'd called the Doctor here. "They're cats," Rose said in shock, pointing obviously.
"Now, don't stare… Think what you look like to them all…" The Doctor very obviously looked her up and down. "Pink and yellow. That's where I'd put the shop!" He pointed to a spot over her shoulder and walked off to the lifts without checking to see if she was following.
"Don't panic," he told Rey softly as they stepped into the lift. "There's a disinfecting process built into the lifts. It's just like taking a shower, okay?"
He waited until she nodded to allow the doors to close, giving her an encouraging smile. One tinged with pride for some reason that made no sense to her. What was there to be proud of? She was acting like a coward.
He asked the lift to bring them up to Ward 26.
"Hold on! Hold on!" Rose rushed at them, but the doors closed before she could get it.
"Oh, too late—we're going up," the Doctor said through the clear doors.
"It's alright, there's another lift," Rose called back.
"Ward 26," he told her. "And watch out for the disinfectant."
"The what?"
"The disinfectant," he repeated.
"The what?"
"The di— oh, she'll find out." He winked at Rey. It made her chest loosen a bit more, calmed her in a way that even reciting elements hadn't managed.
Green lights flashed. "Commence stage one—disinfection."
"Water first," he warned. Two seconds later a torrent came pouring down from above, drenching them both. She rubbed her hair out of her face, blinking blearily to clear her vision. White powder was dropped on them next, then a fierce blow dryer that dried her eyes out terribly. Before each phase, the Doctor told her what to expect. His voice was low and steady in her ear, and warm. She told herself it was just the chill brought on by the water and wind that made her shiver.
When they finally arrived on Ward 26, she was feeling a little frazzled and very clean. The Doctor gestured to his head questioningly. For the first time, his hair was properly tidy. She shook her head—it looked good on him, but it didn't suit him one bit. With a grin he ran his hands through his hair, messing it up again. Much better.
Sister Jatt led them through the ward. She was stiff and came across as both detached but also overly proud. Rey had come across too many nurses and orderlies with that same disposition to be anywhere near comfortable around her. She instinctively shied away; what little good will she had recovered was squashed again as she all but hid behind the Doctor, letting him do all the engaging.
Beryllium. Bismuth. Bohrium. Boron. Bromine…
To his credit, he did a marvelous job at deflecting attention from her. "Nice place. No shop, downstairs. I'd have a shot. Not a big one—just a shop. So people can shop."
"The hospital is a place of healing." Sister Jatt sounded like she was shocked at the very idea of a gift store.
"A shop does some people the world of good," the Doctor said easily. "Not me. Other people…"
"The sisters of Plentitude take a lifelong vow to help. And to mend," Sister Jatt explained as they walked further into the ward, ignoring him.
They passed a man with completely red skin, and another man whose skin looked like it was calcifying. A stern looking, very put together woman by the bed stuck her nose in the air as they passed. "Excuse me," she said indignantly when she spied them glancing over. With a huff she strutted over. "Members of the public may only gaze upon the Duke of Manhattan with written permission from the Senate of New New York."
"That's Petrifold Regression, right," the Doctor asked, nodding to him and ignoring her outrage.
"I'm dying, sir," the Duke said. "A lifetime of charity and abstinence. And it ends like this."
"Any statements made by the Duke of Manhattan may not be made public without official clearance."
"Frau Clovis," the Duke suddenly gasped. She rushed back to his side, allowing him to grasp her hand. "I'm so weak!"
"Sister Jatt! A little privacy, please," she demanded.
They were quickly led away, though Sister Jatt seemed entirely unconcerned. "He'll be up and about in no time."
"I doubt it," the Doctor said. "Petrifold Regression? He's turning to stone. There won't be a cure for… oh… a thousand years? He might be up and about, but only as a statue…"
Again, Sister Jatt looked unperturbed. "Have faith in the sisterhood. But is there no one here you recognize? It's rather unusual to visit without knowing a patient."
Rey tugged lightly on the Doctor's sleeve. He followed her gaze to the corner where the Face of Boe said by the window and offered her a small smile in thanks. "No, I think we've found him."
"Novice Hame," Sister Jatt greeted his nurse. "If I can leave this gentleman and lady in your care?"
"Oh, I think my friend got lost. Uh—Rose Tyler. Could you ask at reception?"
"Certainly, sir." And with that, she left.
Novice Hame was younger than Rey remembered, but that was to be expected. She couldn't really smile—none of Sisters of the Plentitude could an account of their facial structure—but she gave off the impression that she would be smiling softly, a little sadly, if she could. Maybe it was on account of their future acquaintance, or because Rey could tell that she genuinely cared, but she found herself relaxing the slightest bit.
"I'm afraid the Face of Boe's asleep. That's all he tends to do these days. Are you friends, or…?"
"We met just the once on Platform One," the Doctor told her.
"What's wrong with him," Rey asked softly.
"I'm so sorry. I thought you knew. The Face of Boe is dying," Novice Hame said sadly.
"Of what?"
"Old age. The one thing we can't cure. He's thousands of years old. Some people say millions. Although, that's impossible."
A smile tugged at the Doctor's lips. "Oh, no… I like impossible." He knelt in front of the tank and placed a hand on the glass. "I'm here. I look a bit different, but it's me… it's the Doctor, and Rey's here too."
In his sleep, the Face of Boe sighed.
"Hope, harmony, and health," the PA announced, the motto of the hospital. "Hope, harmony, and health."
Rey went with the Doctor to fetch glass of water for Novice Hame. It was only across the hall, which made her feel especially pathetic, but she'd rather that than be left alone, even for a second. The Doctor, at least, didn't act as if there was anything different about her sticking so closer to him.
"That's very kind. But there's no need," Novice Hame said, taking the glass.
"You're the one working," the Doctor pointed out.
"There's not much to do," she admitted, taking a sip. "Just maintain his smoke. And I suppose I'm company. I can hear him singing, sometimes. In my mind… such ancient songs…"
"Are we the only visitors?"
"The rest of Boe-kind became extinct. Long ago. He's the only one left. Legend says that the Face of Boe has watched the universe grown old." Novice Hame's words brought a smile to the Doctor's face. His hand slipped into Rey's. "There's all sorts of superstitions around him. One story says that just before his death, the Face of Boe will impart his great secret. That he will speak those words only to two like himself."
"What does that mean," the Doctor asked.
"It's just a story," Novice Hame protested lightly. She believed the legends, she just wasn't ready to admit that she believed yet.
"Tell me the rest."
"It's said he'll talk to two wanderers. To a man without a home; the lonely god. And to the girl who fell through time."
There was no mistaking who Novice Hame was talking about. Rey would know even if she hadn't already heard the Face of Boe's message. The Doctor could certainly be mistaken as god-like with all his knowledge and time traveling. And she supposed that jumping was like falling—in fact, what she did was more like falling than jumping since jumping suggested a measure of control.
But she could tell that the descriptors bothered the Doctor. Despite his ego, he was never one for the grandiose. Eventually, he couldn't stand the idleness anymore. Novice Hame's words had set off a chain of contemplating thoughts in his head that finally settled on what the Face of Boe's message could be. But with the man himself unavailable and the threat of his demise hanging over them, the Doctor needed something else to occupy his mind with.
Naturally, he turned to the rest of the ward for that distraction.
But first: Rose. She still hadn't found her way up to them yet. He went over to a phone by the front of the ward to ring her, the speaker allowing both of them to hear. "Rose where are you?"
"Uhm… wotcha…"
"Where've you been? How long does it take to get to Ward 26?"
"I'm on my way, governor," she replied in a strained voice. "I shall proceed up the Apples and Pears."
Rey frowned. She may not have been close to Rose, but they didn't need to be friends for her to recognize that Rose didn't speak like that. No one spoke like that unless they were trying, very badly, to imitate something they knew next to nothing about.
"You'll never guess. Rey and I are with the Face of Boe! Remember him?"
Rose gave a forced laugh. "'Course I do… that big old… boat… race…"
The Doctor didn't seem to have noticed her strange behavior. A commotion by the Duke of Manhattan's cot soon distracted hi,. "I'd better go. See you in a minute," he said quickly before hanging the receiver back on its docking station. Turning back to Rey, he offered her a warm smile. "Just a bit longer, then we can leave."
"Did Rose sound odd to you?"
"Rose always sounds odd to me," he said easily, mostly joking.
"More than usual then?"
He blinked, brow furrowing slightly in confusion. "Not really. Why? Is this… is this about the last time we saw you, about Christmas?" Christmas? Why would he bring that up? "'Cos you should probably know, I spoke to Rose about that and really, what happened was completely unacceptable—"
"I never apologized," she realized suddenly completely sidetracked.
Strangely, the Doctor's confusion only deepened. "Why would you apologize?"
Now it was Rey's turn to be confused. "For the way I acted," she explained, feeling more uncertain as the seconds ticked by. "It wasn't very mature or fair to either of you. I should have explained things more clearly."
"What? What? No! It's not— I mean, you're not— You don't have to always be the one explaining things, Rey, especially not when it's about things that I should have explained!"
"But you were in a coma," she reminded him. "I was the one with more knowledge, so of course I should have explained. It's not like I don't know how people lash out when they're distressed. I should have known to handle things better."
He was angry now. No, she corrected herself, not quite angry yet, just very upset. But why? She could read his emotions plainly but she couldn't understand them at all. Why was he upset? What had she said to set him off?
"But what happened wasn't your fault," he insisted. "I spoke with Rose because she should've known better!"
Her chest tightened again. It felt like something was stabbing her over and over. "Why should she have known better but not me?"
"I made it clear to her from the very beginning that you were nonnegotiable. There were three things she had to accept: aliens, time traveling, and you."
Were her ears working properly? Had there been something in the disinfectant? Was her fear causing her to hallucinate?
"Me? I'm nonnegotiable?"
The words felt foreign in her mouth, and she was entirely unsure how to react. She was even more uncomprehending of what he was saying. All the words made sense individually, but put together in that order and applied to her they were unfathomable.
Unless he meant nonnegotiable in that there was no getting rid of her? That made sense. Because no matter what, Rey still jumped or fell or whatever what she did was called, and there was no known way to stop it.
He seemed to suddenly deflate. A hand came up to hover just a few millimetres from her face. She could feel the warmth emanating from it, and her skin tingled where the almost contact was. The Doctor's gaze was so tender that it hurt even just to be on the receiving end of it. Her chest tightened and loosened over and over; she had never felt so unsteady. "Of course you are. Rey, you—"
Raucous laughter drew both their attention to somewhere back inside the ward. The Duke of Manhattan sounded like he was dying, but when she looked, he appeared to be better than ever. No longer calcifying, instead, he and Frau Clovis were enthusiastically celebrating his miraculous recovery with a toast.
Were she anyone else, Rey would have missed the split second look of resignation on the Doctor's face. But since she hadn't, it only served to confuse her more. She had told herself that she'd find answers to his and Rose's strange behaviors, but she seemed to only be finding more questions instead. Not for the first time, she wondered if she would have this same problem if she traveled linearly.
"Didn't think I was going to make it," the Duke exclaimed, sipping from his glass of champagne.
"That's impossible." The Doctor didn't have to try very hard to school his face into curiosity again. She could tell that evidence of the Duke of Manhattan's recovery, however ill-timed, piqued his interest.
"It's that couple again! They're my good luck charm!" The Duke bid them over.
A little reluctantly, they went.
"Any friendship expressed by the Duke of Manhattan does not constitute a form of legal contract," Frau Clovis dutifully told them. She gave them a harsh stare until the Doctor nodded, signifying he understood.
"Winch me up," the Duke ordered, giving them a thumbs up as Frau Clovis pressed the button to tilt his bed forward. "Ah! Look at me! No sign of infection!"
"Champagne, sir? Miss?" The waiter offered them a glass.
Rey shook her head. "No thanks," the Doctor replied quickly. "Uh… you had Petrifold Regression, right?"
"That being the operative world," the Duke merrily agreed. "Past tense! Completely cured."
"But that's impossible," the Doctor protested.
"Primitive species would accuse us of magic, but it's merely the tender application of science," Matron Casp said coyly. Rey inched away from her. She gave off even worst vibes than Sister Jatt.
The Doctor tensed, noticing her unease. "How on Earth did you cure him," he asked.
"How on New Earth, you might say."
He nodded to the drip at the side of the bed feeding into the Duke's IV. "What's in that solution?"
"A simple remedy."
Growling irritated with her purposefully vague answers, he levied her a challenging look. "Then tell me what it is."
"I'm sorry. Patient confidentiality. I don't believe we've met. My name is Matron Casp."
"I'm the Doctor." Rey was glad that he didn't mention her. The less Matron Casp knew about her, the better she felt. She hated the way the matron looked at them, like they were under examination.
"I think you'll find that we're the doctors here," Matron Casp corrected, looking very much like the cat who got the cream. Rey wouldn't trust her further than she could throw her on account of that look alone.
"Matron Casp—you're needed in intensive care," Sister Jatt told her.
"If you would excuse me."
The two nurses left, whispering quietly to each other. It didn't slip Rey's notice how they both tensed and hurried out as soon as they thought no one was looking. The Doctor gave her an apologetic look and she nodded in understanding. It looked like they were going to be staying for a while longer.
By the time Rose finally found her way to Ward 26, the Doctor had finished examining half the patients. She was even walking differently, Rey noted. Sort of like she was trying to strut but wasn't used to having all her limbs.
"There you are! Come and look at this patient!" The Doctor took her by the arm and led her over to the man with red skin. "Marconi's Disease. Should take years to recover. Two days. I've never seen anything like it—they've inventing a cell washing cascade—it's amazing! Their medical science is way advanced. And this one!" Like an eager child he led her to another bed belonging to a man with pure white skin. "Pallidome Pancrosis. Kills you in ten minutes, and he's fine! I need to find a terminal. I've got to see how they do this. Because if they've got the best medicine in the world… then why's it such a secret?"
"I can't Adam and Eve it," Rose said in an oddly low voice.
"What's— what's with the voice," the Doctor asked.
She looked up at him through her lashes. "Oh, I don't know… just larking about New Earth… New me…" Very obviously looking him up and down, she leaned in closer.
"Well, I can talk," he supposed. "New New Doctor."
"Mmm… aren't you just…"
And suddenly they were kissing. Rey felt like the world had gone still. Every second slashed a thousand new cuts over her heart. The scene was burned into her memory forever, and she couldn't look away no matter how loudly her mind screamed at her.
Rose pulled away, slightly breathless and looking pleasantly surprised. "T… terminal's this way." She walked off without checking to see if they followed, hips swaying more than usual.
The Doctor was hardly in better shape. His lips were wet, and his coat and hair disheveled. She couldn't stand to look at him with that dazed expression on his face, didn't want to be reminded of what had just happened, so she hurried off. She busied herself with hacking the hospital's mainframe from the terminal, all the while scolding herself for her reaction.
What right did she have to be hurt and upset? She had no claim over him, and he didn't owe her anything. Wasn't this precisely the reason why she kept her feelings to herself? If the Doctor and Rose—or the Doctor and anyone else for that matter—started a relationship then it was none of her business.
The surgery and post-operation rooms all checked out. There was even a floor of the hospital for nano-dentistry. No psychiatric ward, however, which allowed her to breathe a sigh of relief. It did make her wonder, however, why not. Had the treatment of mental illness reached a stage where hospitalization was no longer needed, or did they just have separate facilities for that? The former was more ideal, but the latter was more likely.
"No sign of a shop," the Doctor noted from where he was looking over her shoulder. "They should have a shop."
Rose was pacing behind them both. "No, it's missing something else. When I was downstairs, those Nurse/Cat/Nuns were talking about Intensive Care. Where is it…?"
"You're right," the Doctor realized. "Well done."
"Why would they hide a whole department? It's gotta be there somewhere. Search the sub-frame."
Rey entered in a few commands. Warning bells were going off in her head. Rose wouldn't have known to do that. "What if it's locked," she asked casually.
"Try the installation protocol… shouldn't he be the one doing this," Not-Rose asked, pointing to the Doctor.
"Rey's perfectly capable of handling a system like this," he dismissed easily, handing her the sonic. A few seconds later the entire wall in front of them slid down to reveal a hidden corridor behind it. "Intensive Care. Certainly looks intensive."
Not-Rose walked straight in without saying anything, looking very chuff. Rey felt the Doctor's eyes on her but she didn't return the look. She nodded discreetly instead; it was about time he noticed that something was wrong.
The corridor couldn't have been more different than the rest of the hospital. There was no lift, only metal stairs, and the walls were cavernous instead of tiled white. It was a good thing that there was only one direction to walk in because the lighting made it so even Rey, whose night vision was above average, could barely see the steps they were walking down. Only the air hadn't changed. It was still that same dry, sterile air she hated, rife with the scent of sanitation chemicals.
Eventually they came across a huge chamber, as wide as the entire ground floor. Row after row, the walls were lined with heavy green doors. The Doctor opened one with the sonic to reveal a man covered in boils, surrounded by a thin grey smoke on the other side. Rey was reaching out before she could help herself, only stopping her hand centimetres from the doorway when Not-Rose spoke. "That's disgusting. What's wrong with him?"
She pulled back, staring at her hand before glancing to the Doctor. He looked about as horrified as she felt. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He closed the door gently, then opened another. A woman was inside in much of the same condition: boils and surrounded by grey smoke.
With a sinking sensation of dread, Rey realized that there was a person suffering behind every single door, and there must've been thousands of them.
Not-Rose held her nose at the smell. "What disease is that?"
"All of them," the Doctor answered quietly. "Every single disease in the galaxy, they've been infected with everything."
"What about us," Not-Rose asked, alarmed. "Are we safe?"
"The air's sterile. Just don't touch them." He shut the door and leaned over the railing, looking out at all the doors.
"How many patients are there?"
Rey corrected her. "They're not patients."
"But they're sick."
"They were born sick," the Doctor said angrily. "They're meant to be sick. They exist to be sick. Lab rats. No wonder the Sisters have got a cure for everything. They've built the ultimate research laboratory. A human farm?"
"Why don't they just die," Not-Rose asked, like it was that simple.
"It's usually those who want to die that realize how difficult it actually is," Rey told her. "Especially when your autonomy over your own body is limited."
One of the sisters stepped out into view at the end of the row, sad and full of something she wouldn't dare recognize or admit to be shame. "It's for a greater cause," she said, trying to convince them.
"Novice Hame. When you took your vows, did you agree to this," the Doctor asked her. He took a step left towards Rey, covering her.
"The Sisterhood has sworn to help."
"What, by killing?!" The shout echoed off the walls.
"But they're not real people," she said gently. "They're specially grown. They have no proper existence."
"Is that what you tell yourself so that you can sleep at night," Rey asked, horror, disgust, and a hurt she couldn't explain seeping into her voice. "It doesn't matter because they don't matter. You tell yourself 'no one cares about them,' so you can do whatever you want to them. How many of them do you kill in a day? A hundred? A thousand? For how many years have you been justifying mass slaughter?"
"Mankind needed us," she defended, trying to explain. "They came to this planet with so many illnesses. We couldn't cope. We did try. We tried everything. We tried using clone-meat and bio-cattle… but the results were to slow. So the Sisterhood grew its own flesh. That's all they are: flesh."
"These people are alive," the Doctor insisted.
"But think of those humans out there… healthy… and happy, because of us."
"If they live because of this, then life is worthless."
"But who are you to decide that," Novice Hame argued.
He stepped forward. "I'm the Doctor. And if you don't like it… if you want to take it to a higher authority, then there isn't one. It stops with me."
"Just to confirm… none of the humans in the city actually know about this," Not-Rose asked.
"We thought it best not—"
"Hold on," the Doctor interrupted. "I can understand the bodies. I can understand your vows. But one thing I can't understand—what have you done to Rose?"
Novice Hame shook her head. "I don't know what you mean."
"And I'm being very, very calm. You wanna beware of that—very, very calm. And the only reason I'm being so very, very calm is that the brain is a delicate thing. Whatever you've done to Rose's head, I want it reversed," he demanded.
"We haven't done anything."
"I'm perfectly fine," Not-Rose claimed.
He ignored her. "These people are dying," he said to Novice Hame, "and Rose would care."
"Oh, alright, clever clogs." Not-Rose reached out and physically spun the Doctor so that he was facing her. She pulled at his tie like it was a leash, twirling it between her fingers. "Smarty pants. Lady-killer."
He pulled his tie out of her grasp, retreating to Rey's side. "What's happened to you?"
"I knew something was going on in this hospital, but I needed this body and your mind to find it out."
"Who are you?"
Not-Rose leaned in closer, standing on the tips of her toes to whisper demurely, "The Last Human."
"Cassandra?"
"Who's Cassandra," Rey asked.
Whoever she was, she examined Rey with a curious disdain. "Now I know I'm not as beautiful as I was, something we're going to fix very soon, but I know I'm not that forgettable."
"I don't know you," Rey said honestly.
"Oh, wake up and smell the perfume." Before she could react, Cassandra pulled out a small vial and sprayed it in Rey's face. It was like that time on Starship UK—whatever the chemical was, it disoriented her but didn't knock her out. She wobbled, dropping to her knees. The Doctor wasn't so lucky as to have built up a tolerance, falling straight into unconsciousness.
Novice Hame rushed over. "You've hurt them! I don't understand—I'll have to fetch Matron!"
"You do that, 'cause I want to see her," Cassandra said. "Now, run along! Sound the alarm!" She ripped out a cable as Novice Hame scurried away, setting off a warning klaxon. Rey groaned. It felt like sound was coming to her through a funnel. Her head pounded, brain trying to work sluggishly through the haze of drugs. "Still awake are we," Cassandra asked condescendingly. "Well, not for long." She stuck out with her foot.
There was a blinding flash of pain, and then nothing.
The next time Rey regained consciousness, it took her awhile to realize where she was. The smell and the familiar bitter taste in her mouth almost had her thinking she was back at Nevermore before she realized that if she really had gone back, they would have at least dressed her wound. But her hand came back sticky and wet when she pressed it against whatever was dripping down the side of her face. When she blinked blearily, she saw that her fingers were red.
She looked up. The Doctor was under her, and they were both stuck in one of the Intensive Care Ward's cells. He was properly angry this time as he argued with Cassandra. She was looking through the window panel in the closed door, gloating over what she'd accomplished. "Over the years, I've thought of a thousand ways to kill you, Doctor. And now that's exactly what I've got. One thousand diseases. They pump the patients with a top-up every ten minutes. You've got about… three minutes left. Enjoy."
"Just let Rey and Rose go, Cassandra."
"Oh, I'll let this one go as soon as I've found someone younger and… less common… then I'll junk her with the waste. As for your little Rey… the brat might not remember those rotten words she said to me on Platform One, but I haven't forgotten! Now, hushaby! It's showtime."
Sound carried surprisingly well from the walkway outside into the cell. They could hear every word Cassandra exchanged with Matron Casp and Sister Jatt. Another time Rey might have been grateful for that, but right now, she was dealing with minor head trauma that was making her feel sick to her stomach. Her eyes refused to focus, and every sound only reminded her of the ringing in her ears.
Cassandra was trying to blackmail the Sisterhood: money in exchange for keeping quiet about what they did down there. Rey had known even without being able to focus on the complete conversation that Matron Casp was much too proud to ever give in. Sure enough, there were sounds of a short fight followed soon by the door to the cell sliding open and the restraints locking her and the Doctor in place releasing them.
Rey stumbled to her feet, nearly losing balance falling over again if not for the Doctor catching her in time. He helped her out of the cell and they saw that it wasn't just them but every cell in their row that had been overrode.
The infected were getting out.
"What've you done," he yelled at Cassandra angrily.
"Gave the system a shot of adrenaline, just to wake 'em up." She sounded very smug beneath her fear. "See ya!"
"Don't touch them," the Doctor called after her. He gave the same warning to the nurses behind them before he and Rey hurried after Cassandra and her helper Chip. They caught up quickly, just in time for every single cell door to explode open. Cassandra screamed as they picked up the pace, running for their lives.
The infected walked slowly, limbs sluggish and muscles atrophied from disuse. Reaching out, they repeated "stop the pain," over and over. Sister Jatt ended up backed against the wall. She shrieked in agony when she was touched, her skin instantly breaking out into boils.
"Oh my God," Cassandra gasped.
"What the hell have you done," the Doctor demanded to know.
"It wasn't me!"
"One touch and you get every disease in the world, and I want that body safe, Cassandra! We've gotta go down!"
"But there's thousands of them," Cassandra protested.
They might have moved slowly, but the sheer number of the infected made them a force to be reckoned with. Rey stumbled again, managing to catch the railing before she fell. Her vision kept blurring, and her head wound had yet to stop bleeding.
"Run! Down! Down! Go down!" The Doctor helped Rey stay steady as they ran down the stairs. His arm was warm where it wrapped around her, and his hand holding hers was even warmer.
"This building is under quarantine," the PA announced. "Repeat—this building is under quarantine. No one may leave the premises. Repeat—no one may leave the premises."
"Keep going," the Doctor urged as the infected followed them down, arms stretched out. "Go down!" They dashed down the last flight of stairs and burst through a door into the cellar. Cassandra went straight to the lift only to be stopped by the Doctor. The quarantine would have shut it down, along with all other unnecessary facilities, to conserve power.
"This way!" She ran down corridor, the Doctor and Rey right on her heels. Chip was falling behind, and more of the infected were coming from the connecting hallway.
"Someone will touch him," the Doctor shouted, turning back to help.
Cassandra grabbed his arm to stop him. "Leave him! He's just a clone thing, he's only got a half-life—come on!"
"Mistress," Chip called out, but she had already left him behind.
Either Rey's equilibrium was getting worse, or the ground really was winding up and down like choppy waves. "I'm sorry," she heard the Doctor say from far away. "I have to help Rey and I can't let her escape."
Warm hands caught her just as she was about to topple over. Before she could protest, her legs were swept out from under her. "Sorry, but we've gotta hurry," the Doctor told her, and then he was running with her in his arms.
Chasing after Cassandra, they ended up in a basement room with a large screen at one end. The door slammed behind them, buying them some time, but when Cassandra opened the other one, it was to a hoard of the infected trying to get in. She slammed it shut again quickly. "We're trapped! What're we going to do?"
The Doctor set Rey down carefully. She wobbled a bit but managed to stay on her feet. Her vision was still swimming, but her periods of clarity were slowly getting longer. Her head still throbbed terribly, but at least she could see. He gave a handkerchief to press against her cut. The pressure stung, but it was better than leaving the wound open.
"Well, for starters, you're going to leave that body," he told Cassandra angrily. Pulling out the sonic, he gestured to a large machine pushed off to the side. "That psychograft is banned on every civilized planet! You're compressing Rose to death."
"But I've got nowhere to go," Cassandra protested. "My original skin is dead."
"Not my problem," he said. "You can float as atoms in the air. Now, get out. Give her back to me."
"You asked for it." That was all he warning they had before Cassandra basically leapt from Rose into the Doctor.
"Blimey, my head," Rose complained, disoriented. She swayed on her feet, blinking around at her surroundings. "Where'd she go…"
"Oh my. This is… different,"
"Get out of him," Rey demanded, taking a step forward and nearly doubling over when a sharp bout of vertigo struck her.
"Cassandra," Rose asked at the Doctor's body.
"Goodness me, I'm a man. Yum. So many parts! And hardly used." She wiggled around. "Ah… ah! Two hearts! Oh baby, I'm beating out a samba!"
"Get out of him," Rey repeated.
Cassandra ignored her again, running a hand down her new body. "Ooh, he's slim. And a bit foxy." She raised her eyebrows at Rose. "You've thought so too. I've been inside your head… you've been looking… you like it." The back door suddenly burst opened from the force of the infected, allowing them in. "What do we do? What would he do? The Doctor—what the hell would he do?!"
"Ladder… we've gotta get up," Rose decided.
"Out of the way, Blondie!" Cassandra shoved her aside to get to it first. Rose scrambled after her, and Rey climbed up last. Her limbs shook but she forced them to work, considering the climb one rung at a time rather than looking up at all the stories they had to go.
"If you get out of the Doctor's body, he can think of something," Rose told Cassandra.
"Yap, yap, yap… God, it was tedious inside your head. Hormone City."
"Then use—" Rey abruptly cut herself off as a hand wrapped around her clothed ankle. She glanced down, expecting to see one of the infected, but it was Matron Casp who was holding onto her. "Let go."
"All our good work," she moaned. "All that healing! The good name of the Sisterhood—you have destroyed everything!"
Cassandra rolled her eyes at the nurse. "Go play with a ball of string."
"Everywhere—disease! This is the human world. Sickness!" She suddenly screamed as she was grabbed, boils breaking out of her skin. The pain caused her to lose her grip on the ladder, and she plummeted down, still wailing. The infected were still for a moment, watching her fall. Then, they began to climb again.
"Move," Rose demanded, and Cassandra grabbed the next rung.
They soon reached the top of the ladder, the only way out blocked by the closed lift doors. "Now what do we do," Cassandra asked.
"Use the sonic," Rey told her, swinging around so that she was level with Rose but hanging onto different rungs due to their unequal heights.
Cassandra pulled the screwdriver out, holding it disdainfully between a thumb and forefinger. Her nose wrinkled. "You mean this thing?"
"Yes, that thing," Rose answered, aggravated.
"Well, I don't know how—that Doctor's hidden away all his thoughts."
"I can use it," Rey said, reaching up.
"Fat chance," Cassandra protested, holding it away.
"Cassandra, go back into me," Rose said before Rey could stop her. "The Doctor can open it. Do it!"
"Hold on tight." There was another flash of light as she leapt out of the Doctor. "Oh… oh, chavtastic again. Open it!"
Instead of the door, the Doctor aimed the sonic at Cassandra. "Not 'til you get out of her."
"We need the Doctor," she protested.
"I order you to leave her," he shouted.
Obeying, Cassandra leapt back into him. "No matter how difficult the situation, there is no need to shout."
"Cassandra, get out of him," Rose shouted.
"But I can't go into you, he simply refuses—he's so rude."
Rey grit her teeth. Rose was looking very pale, and not just from the stress of the situation. There was a reason why psychographs were banned, and Rose was still recovering. Rey wasn't sure if she could survive any more compression. "Then get inside me because the only other option is death."
"Oh, I am so gonna regret this…"
She didn't have a lot of words to describe the feeling of housing Cassandra's consciousness. It was definitely painful, like being crushed by a heavy weight. It made her head throb even more, and though she could see and hear everything, it was duller. She felt detached and dissociated from her own body.
"Cassandra, what are you doing? Get out of there," the Doctor demanded. "I'm warning you—"
"You won't let me inside her—" Rey's hand came up to point at Rose. Her voice sounded strange in her own ears. "And she won't let me inside you, so what other choice is there?! They're catching up, hurry and open the doors!"
The infected were just a few feet below them. Cassandra was right; they didn't have much time.
The Doctor realized this as well. He clenched his teeth with a force that had Rey worrying they would crack under the strain, but he also turned back and opened the lift doors. He climbed up, then helped the two—or was it three—up. Cassandra looked down when she was safely inside, straight into the eyes of one of the infected.
It wasn't as if she needed eye contact to do what she always did. There was some truth in the saying that eyes were windows, but it wasn't magic. She didn't look into someone's eyes and suddenly know everything about them. The slant of the jaw, the line of the shoulders, hand positions, voice, and yes eyes—Rey's mind took all of that in and came up with a conclusion in an instant.
It was just that eyes were more expressive than most people gave them credit for, and harder to control than most people realized. And when Rey made eye contact, it was like some other connection formed, deeper than when she took in any other emotional indicator. Eyes made things clearer and stronger, and sometimes that connection affected her.
Dr. Usher said she was easily influenced. That was one of the many reasons why he refused to let her out. It was for her own protection—how could she be sure that what she was thinking, feeling, doing was of her own accord?
Cassandra was in her now. She might've been the one at the forefront, controlling her body, but it was still Rey's body. It was still Rey's mind.
She fled abruptly, leaping into Rose. Rey was glad she was already on the floor because she would have fallen otherwise. The sudden relief from the crushing pain and the unceremonious return to her sharp senses had the world reeling towards her much too quickly. She scrambled back, hitting the wall in her haste and staying there. It was too much; she needed time to process.
The Doctor sealed the lift doors. "That was your last warning, Cassandra," he shouted at the newly possessed Rose. Rey wished he wouldn't shout. The volume alone was bad enough, but she could feel his anger rolling around inside her like it was her own.
"What is she," Cassandra asked softly. She was shaking, and beneath the sorrow was a heavy current of fear. "Your Rey—what is she? Inside her head, there's so much; she sees so much. How could she see what those people were feeling? They're so alone… they keep reaching out, just to hold us… She could feel it and so could I."
"That's just how she is," the Doctor told her. He walked carefully over to where she was still huddled, crouching down a good distance away. "Rey?"
She flinched away from him, squeezing her eyes shut so she wouldn't see how he reacted. She didn't want to feel anymore. It was too much for her, too much for any one person. "…cerium… praseodymium… ytterbium… neodymium… zinc…"
"Rey, we have to move. I'm sorry, but we can't stay here." A loud banging came from the other side of the lift doors. "Please, Rey…"
"My head…"
"I know, I know. But we can't stay here."
She forced herself to her feet, eyes on the floor. Chromium… Promethium… Indium… Tin…
They walked back into Ward 26 and were nearly attacked by Frau Clovis, who held a chair as a weapon. She gave a battle cry, intending to slam it down on the Doctor. He stopped her with a rushed, "We're safe! We're safe! We're safe. We're clean! We're clean! Look, look—"
"Show me your skin," she demanded.
"Look!" The Doctor rolled his sleeves up. "Clean. Look—if we'd been touched, we'd be dead." Reluctantly, Frau Clovis nodded and set the chair down. "So, how's it going up here? What's the status?"
"There's nothing but silence from the other wards. I think we're the only ones left. And I've been trying to override the quarantine." She fiddled with the handheld device she had. It beeped repetitively. Annoyingly. "If I can trip a signal over to New New York, they can send a private executive squad."
"You can't do that," the Doctor protested. "If they forced entry, they'd break quarantine."
"I'm not dying in here," Frau Clovis told him angrily.
"We can't let a single particle of disease get out," he said. "There are ten million people in that city, they'd all be at risk! Now turn that off!"
"Not if it gets me out."
"Alright, fine," he decided. "So I have to stop you lot as well. Suits me. Rose, Novice Hame. Everyone! Excuse me, your grace—get me intravenous solutions for every single disease. Move it!"
Rey sequestered herself against the wall, away from everyone else. As the others rushed to obey the Doctor's orders, he came over to her, stopping a good distance away so she wouldn't feel crowded. She figured out what he had planned easily enough, but…
"I can't." She hid her face, not wanting to see disappointment in his. "I can't go back down with you. I'm sorry."
"What? No, no, no, no. I'm the one who should… I should have never brought you here."
"Is that why you tried to come without me? You wouldn't have to worry if I was normal."
Neither of them said it, but the words from her childhood echoed in her ears. Too sensitive. The nurses said it. Dr. Usher said it. Even the Madame said it. If she wasn't so sensitive, the Doctor would have to take special considerations for her. No one would have to tiptoe around her, wondering what was going to set her off. She could hold hands and touch and look at people if she was normal instead of whatever lopsided, too-strong interactions she had now.
"Can you look at me?" His voice was carefully light, like he was holding back a great deal of anger. "You don't have to look me in the eyes, but can you please just look? I want you to see that what I'm about to say is true."
She froze as two conflicting desires warred inside her. The more rational part of her brain told her not to look. She always saw too much when she looked, and even if the Doctor didn't mean to show it, if she saw disappointment or irritation she didn't know if she could handle it.
The less rational part of her brain told her to trust him and look.
He wasn't at all tense when she peeked. The lines of his body were soft and betrayed no aggression. Even though he was moments away from jumping back into the fray, he kept himself calm around her. A small smile tugged at his lips when he saw her looking.
She didn't look at his eyes.
"There is nothing wrong with you." He hadn't tensed, but his voice was firm the surety of someone who believed wholeheartedly that what they were saying was the truth. "I didn't want to bring you here because I want to show you only the best things in the universe. I never seem to get that right."
Cassandra called him over before she could think of what to say to that. The Doctor's smile turned slightly rueful as he got up and began to walk away. "I'll see you soon," she blurted out before he got too far. From his legs she could tell that he paused, but he didn't turn back and she didn't look up at the rest of him.
"Yeah," he replied, tone soft and undecipherable. "See you soon." And then he walked off.
She wasn't the only one in a somber mood as they returned to the Time Vortex. In the end, the Last Human had died after all, but she had died a changed person who had even, if reluctantly, helped ensure the survival of a brand new species. The New Humans had been cured and could finally, safely touch and connect with other people. It was a fitting legacy.
The Doctor was tinkering again. Everything but his feet and ankles was shoved under the grating to get to the TARDIS circuits. Rose watched him quietly, curled up on the jump seat with a large mug of tea in her hands. She was taking Cassandra's passing especially hard. Rey still wanted to be alone. If she was honest, she'd actually prefer not to be conscious at all at this point, but there was something she needed to do first.
"At Christmas…" Rose jumped a little, nearly spilling her tea. She glared at Rey for startling her, though the expression was quickly dropped as she recalled something. Rey tried not to let the horrible start deter her. "You said you couldn't trust me because you didn't know my name."
Eyeing her suspiciously, Rose nodded.
"It's Lacus. I don't like using it, so I'd appreciate it if you continued calling me Rey."
It never felt right to be called Lacus. When she was younger she had gone by her middle name for a while. That felt better, but then she'd met someone whose first name was the same as her middle name, so eventually she'd decided on just Rey. It was never going to be fairy tale name like Amelia Pond or River Song, but it served its purpose without rubbing her the wrong way. And she'd gotten used to it over time, so changing it something else now would feel even weirder.
Having said her piece, she turned away, intending on going to her room and not coming out for a long while. Rose's hand shot out to stop her, grabbing her arm. Rey froze, too shocked to properly process the sensation. She couldn't remember ever touching Rose purposefully, and she certainly would have recalled if Rose ever touched her. Realizing what she'd done, Rose quickly pulled her hand away.
"I might've… overreacted a bit last time," she said awkwardly. "Just a bit, mind you. I still think you're wrong to keep secrets all the time. But, in the spirit of starting over…" she looked over to the Doctor's feet. A small explosion shook the TARDIS almost on cue. "Since neither of us seems to be leaving anytime soon, let's… try to get along."
Rey nodded, feeling distinctly displaced. Rose squared herself with a "right then," and turned back to watch the Doctor. She took it as meaning the conversation was over and started to walk off again. A new start with Rose wouldn't be so bad.
And we finally have Rey's first name! I'm sorry if anyone is disappointed with the way the ending was glossed over. I actually rewrote the last third of this chapter twice before I was satisfied. In one version, Rey was supposed to come up with the solution to combine treatments to cure the infected. In another, she went down with the Doctor to cure them. I thought that this way felt the most authentic to her characterization given her backstory. You don't just get over years of psychological abuse in an instant.