A few baby "waves" were made by the Doctor and Martha's ship. But as usual, they were interrupted. Curtis called, and reported that he'd stormed out of the house because Tim was "being a prat," and asked the TARDIS team to come and meet him in a chip shop near the estate. So, what are his thoughts on this whole magnetic-field-might-fix-the-problem-but-also-mess-with-his-brain, state of affairs?

Enjoy!


EIGHT

The Axiothe Field had not yielded any important information, so it probably felt that it was safe to allow the TARDIS to dematerialise from the Ifasma Galaxy, and rematerialise wherever it wanted.

As such, the Doctor and Martha walked into a narrow little hideaway called "Chipwrecked". It was already after ten p.m., so the fluorescent light seemed particularly sickening. The tile on the floor and walls was yellow, and probably hadn't been replaced since 1980. This made it all the more jarring to see Curtis Malmay, who was somewhat of a large man, sitting at a table in the middle of the shop, in his bright red hoodie. Especially as there was no-one else in the store, save for the sixty-or-so-year-old server behind the counter.

"Hi," Martha said as they made their way toward the table.

"They won't let you sit here unless you buy something," he said, sipping on a soda. There was already an empty paper container that had once contained chips, sitting in front of him.

"Sorry, loves," said the woman behind the counter. "It's policy. I get no say in it."

"Hungry?" the Doctor asked Martha.

"Do I have a choice?"

"Okay. I'll deal with the, erm… food… bit," he said, awkwardly, as he walked toward the counter.

"How are you?" Martha asked. "Finally got some rest, we heard."

"Yes," Curtis confirmed. "But when I woke up, Tim was being a prat."

"So you said," Martha commented, as the Doctor ordered a steak pie and chips. "How so?"

"He suggested that we try to solve the problem by me drawing a picture of Daniel Edge going to prison," Curtis said. "Or forgetting that I exist. Or forgetting that Stephanie Havilland exists. But that can't work because that reality will have to be maintained. Especially when you're manipulating sentient creatures…"

"Er, Curtis, Curtis," the Doctor said, turning around, putting a finger over his lips. Martha had already begun to try to stop him talking, but to no avail. "Might want to pipe down a bit, mate."

"It's okay," Curtis said, nodding toward the woman behind the counter. "Louise knows me – she lives in our estate. She knows what I can do."

Louise nodded. "Curtis fixed my car – drew me up a whole new carburetor," she said. "I couldn't have afforded it meself. And he's told me about his little problem with the Edge family. A bunch of bloody reptiles, that family, if you ask me."

"Mm, yes," the Doctor muttered. "Well said. However, Curtis, Louise… maybe we don't mention this to anyone else, eh?"

Louise made a show of "zipping" her lips, and throwing away the key. Then, she moved down the line to fill the Doctor's order.

"Well, Curtis," Martha said. "The Doctor and I talked about doing that sort of thing as a kind of solution – your drawing an end to the situation – and we came to the same conclusion you did. It can't work."

"Right," Curtis agreed. "So you agree, Tim was being a prat."

"Well, I wasn't there," Martha argued.

"Not to mention, if the influence of the Ifasma ever faded, Edge might realise he's in prison because you put him there," the Doctor said. "And then he'd be able to lawyer his way out, and he'd want revenge, and everyone you know would be in danger."

"What you're discussing is more like the mafia," Curtis snapped at him. "We have no evidence that the Edge family is involved in that sort of thing."

"But wouldn't it be naïve simply to assume that they're not?" asked the Doctor.

"I suppose," Curtis grumbled.

"Actually, it doesn't matter whether they are actually involved in the mafia or not," the Doctor pointed out, turning his back to the counter, and now leaning against it pensively, with his arms crossed over his chest. "Their behaviour suggests that they would seek revenge anyhow – or at least, young Daniel would. They'd do their own thing, have their own entourage, their own operation… and they wouldn't see it as mafia-like, they would simply see it as business. Protecting their interests."

"Right, so, no artificial manipulating of the Edge family," Martha said to Curtis. "You are right about that."

Curtis sighed heavily. He then used his fists to hide his face.

"Curtis?" Martha asked. "What's wrong?"

The man shook his head, and said nothing.

"Curtis," she said, trying to pry his hands away from his eyes. "Are you upset?"

He nodded vigorously.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Curtis," Martha said, reaching out to stroke his arm.

He allowed her to do this for about three seconds, then pulled away.

In the next minute and a half, Martha just let Curtis cry a bit. Louise delivered the Doctor's steak pie and chips on a tray, he paid her, and then sat down beside Martha. Neither of them ate yet, though it did start to smell quite good to Martha…

In his own time, Curtis brought his hands down to his lap, and stared at them. His eyes were bloodshot, cheeks wet with tears.

"This is a curse," he said, very softly.

"No arguments here, mate," the Doctor said to him, just as softly.

"I can't not draw," he said. "It's part of who I am, just as much as being part of the Malmay family. Or being autistic. Or being clever. I draw."

"I completely understand that," Martha told him.

"But when I draw, it causes chaos," Curtis said. "I've now seen what can happen when the wrong people find out about it. And unless Tim and I get very, very mean…"

"It will continue, and people like Edge will continue to demand things from you," Martha finished.

"Yes," Curtis confirmed. He took a deep breath. "Okay. Tim wanted me to draw us out of the situation because he thought we should be finding a way to take the two of you out of the equation, and out of our lives. I asked him why he'd want Martha Jones out of our lives. He said because it would be easier for him if he never saw you again."

Martha breathed in deeply, and exhaled evenly, trying hard not to make some kind of outburst that would alarm both Curtis and the Doctor. "Okay. Go on."

"But he also said…" Curtis began, then he gulped hard. "He said, the two of you want to do something drastic that will… change me."

"We don't want to, Curtis," the Doctor said, gently. "But it's the only thing we've found that even somewhat resembles a solution, and we're running out of time."

Curtis focused his eyes on Martha, as usual, rather ignoring the Doctor. "Would it… change me, Martha?"

He was so child-like with this question, and seemed so frightened, that Martha desperately wanted to lie to him. But as they all well knew, they were running out of time, and moreover, Curtis would probably know.

"Very, very likely, it would, Curtis," she told him. "We don't know enough about it right now to say for sure, but based on the research we've done, the Axiothe Field would crawl inside your brain. It could sever your connection with the Ifasma Galaxy, and therefore, we think, with every drawing you've ever done that changed reality."

He frowned deeply. "What would happen to Xanthavia and Valanon and the Dragon?"

He was referring to characters he'd created that had come alive, and their existence had wrought enough havoc in the city of Leeds that UNIT had been called in, and subsequently the Doctor. He and Martha had ultimately found homes for all three of them on different planets, but their very existence hinged upon Curtis "maintaining" them with new drawings every few weeks.

"We'll find a way to take care of them," the Doctor said. In truth, he had no idea how they would do that – there would be a lot more research, he reckoned, and a few more visits to the Ifasma.

"In that case," Curtis said, actually acknowledging what the Doctor had said. "I'm ready for you to do it."

"We would have to bring you up into the Axiothe Field and study it with you there, first," Martha said.

"Fine," Curtis said. "Do what you have to." He pulled his hood even tighter, and crossed his arms.

"You'd come with us?" the Doctor asked. "Let us hook you up to machines?"

Curtis was quiet for about a minute, then he asked, "If I drew the picture for Edge without Tim knowing about it…"

"Curtis, you can't," Martha urged.

"No, listen," he said. "If I drew it, it would be rape. Right?"

"Yes," Martha said. "Definitely."

"She would feel horrible in the end."

"Yes," Martha repeated.

"Okay then, I won't finish the drawing, and that's final," Curtis said. "So how do we keep her from getting killed?"

"We see if we can sever the link between you and everyone who knows about your ability," the Doctor told him. "We might be able to do that, as well."

"All right, let's try it," Curtis said, in a rare moment of speaking directly to the Doctor, without any cynical venom in his voice. "I'm ready."

"Are you sure?" Martha asked him. "Because, here's the thing. When we mentioned to Tim what we could do, he reacted very… er, vehemently. He forbade it, and said that you have a beautiful mind… and after knowing you for a while, I guess I'm inclined to agree with that bit."

"Tim is a good brother," Curtis said, now rocking back and forth in his chair a bit. He was agitated, to be sure, and Martha became very aware that this was the first time they'd been in Curtis' presence without Tim. "But it's not for him to forbid. Besides, he deserves to be free."

"I think so, too," Martha said, taking the Doctor's hand.

"And, I think what people don't understand is that my autism isn't just something that makes me special," Curtis continued, still rather nervous. "It's something that makes Tim special, too. He's the wonderful, generous caretaker of an autistic brother. That is one-hundred-per-cent true, but it has become part of his identity. And he's quite attached to that identity."

"Interesting," Martha said. She and the Doctor looked at each other with surprise, because neither of them had thought of it that way.

"So it would be scary for him if I changed. If I was no longer autistic. If my symptoms abated and I could be more independent… which part of me wants, just because it would be nice to be independent," Curtis continued. "So, of course he would forbid it. Not only is he trying to protect me and who I am, he he is trying to protect himself, and who he is. But the difference is, this old brain is mine, not his. And I say, I don't want anyone getting raped."

"A noble sentiment, indeed," the Doctor said, very, very quietly.

"Thanks to you, Dr. Jones, I've been able to spend a bit of time feeling slightly less literal and linear and black-versus-white than ever before," Curtis said to Martha. "And I've seen why having such a straightforward view of the world is… can be a disadvantage. I never understood that before. How could not seeing absolute truth in most things be good for anyone? But I get it now. Most of the world believes there isn't absolute truth."

"Now, hold on, Curtis," Martha said. "We're going to do this because we want to save Stephanie Havilland from something terrible and humiliating. Not because there's anything wrong with you."

"I know that," Curtis said, stopping his rocking. "I guess I'm trying to work out whether the pros might outweigh the cons in the end. I think I may not know until it happens."

"You may be right," she agreed.

"But for the sake of that young woman, I'm willing to sacrifice a part of myself."

"All right. If you're sure," she said, looking at the Doctor. Curtis had not made eye-contact in several minutes.

"I am," he practically whispered. "Just… give me an hour or so."

"An hour?" Martha asked.

"Yes. Is that all right?"

"I think so," Martha said. "It's now half-ten."

"Then give me until midnight," Curtis said. He stripped his hood back, and sat up straight, and folded his hands on the table in front of him. "Tim will be waiting up for me. I'll go home and tell him what we talked about, and that I've made up my mind. Then you can come collect us at midnight, after I've calmed him down."

"All right," the Doctor said. "And then, once we're in the TARDIS, we can fudge on time, just a bit. But not too much."

Curtis did not answer. He was not meant to believe in the Doctor and his prowess, especially as a time-traveller, but was willing to submit to his "Deus Ex Machina" style of problem-solving, just this once. Even though he didn't believe in that either.

He stood up and said, "See you then," then headed purposefully toward the door.

The Doctor and Martha watched him go, then the Doctor slipped round and took a seat across from Martha. The two of them sat silently, contemplatively, and shared the food they'd ordered from Louise, which was now cold. It wasn't particularly tasty, but it was very English, which Martha found comforting.


The chip shop closed at eleven, so the two of them went back to the TARDIS to get ready, neither of them feeling great about what was about to happen.

The Doctor spent some time preparing the equipment he'd need to probe the Axiothe Field, along with Curtis' brain.

In addition, he extracted four harnesses from storage, and showed Martha how to attach them to the console and/or the railing, so that just in case the field pulled them through as it had before, they would be ready for it to mess with gravity all it wanted, with less chance of injury. Martha's sprained wrist hampered her a bit, so the process was slow, but it was one of the few things she could do to help at the moment. Her current superpower was being able to penetrate Curtis' Time Lord-resistant shell. She would have more work cut out for her, soon enough.

"Doctor, it's five minutes after midnight," Martha said. "We'd better get up to their flat."

"Yeah… let's go."

And once again, as if on cue, Martha's mobile phone rang.

"Wow, these guys have impeccable timing," she said, opening her phone. "Hi, Tim."

"Hi, Martha," Tim said, with a sigh. "Okay, before I say anything else… I'm sorry about before. I didn't mean to lose my temper."

"It's all right," she said. "Emotions are running high – it's a dramatic time."

"Thanks for saying that," he told her. "But I'm still sorry."

"So, does that mean Curtis talked to you?"

"About what?" Tim asked.

"About how he'd made a decision about what to do."

"Er, no… actually, that's what I'm phoning you about. Actually, two things."

"Oh?"

"Yeah," Tim said. "There's something I want you to see. Can you come to the flat?"

"We're parked right outside," Martha told him. "We were just going to come up anyway."

"Great. See you in a mo'."

The Doctor and Martha locked up the TARDIS, and made their way up the stairs to the Malmays' abode. They didn't even have a chance to rap on the door before Tim opened it.

"You'll never guess what's happened," he said, ushering them in.

Upon entering the front parlour, the Doctor and Martha realised that there was someone sitting on the outdated tartan sofa. Someone who was not Curtis.

"Oh!" the Doctor said, fixing his eyes on her. "Hello."

"Hi," the young woman on the sofa said, with a little wave.

"Are you…" Martha began to ask her.

"Doctor, Martha," Tim said. "Meet Stephanie Havilland."


At last a TWIST! Please let me know what you think! I would love a review from you... it would make my day! :-)

Thank you for reading!