Summary: Wherein the Doctor makes his escape, and the mopup begins.

Notes: And wherein the second rationale for the title is revealed. Bit lame, but I think it works.

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Chapter Ten: Mind Over Matter

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One of the Doctor's captives took a deep breath, as if steadying his nerves for some terrifying encounter.

"Okay, I'm going to ask you something," he said.

That explained it.

"What are you doing here?"

The Doctor shrugged. "I was just here for a nice relaxing trip to the festival, until somebody kidnapped my companion and forced me to infiltrate this top-secret facility. Which was pathetically easy, by the way. You people are miserable at screening your spies."

"Someone kidnapped your-- this is a rescue mission," the security person realized.

"You are far too smart for this job. Yes, this is a rescue mission. Try and tell someone about it, don't, it's really up to you. You won't be able to warn them in time, though. But you can try if it makes you feel better."

Something in the Doctor's pocket beeped; he pulled it out and checked it. "Well, folks, it's been just lovely chatting with you, but I'm afraid I have to go."

"What the hell is this?" asked the other security person, staring at him like he was insane.

"All right," the Doctor yelled, "I'm ready to come out now."

"Open the door, slowly," the negotiator instructed, sounding like he didn't quite believe him. "Put the gun down, and step toward us, with your hands up."

"Sure." The Doctor opened the door, slid the gun across the floor, and stepped out of the room, hands held cheerfully up.

The guards were motionless for a second-- then rushed at him, tackling him to the ground and handcuffing his hands behind his back.

"Oi! That was hardly necessary," the Doctor complained.

"For once in your life, shut your pie hole," snapped the head guard, knocking his head to the floor.

One of the guards was confiscating the gun; since it wasn't at all beyond their current technological capabilities, he figured he'd let them keep it. Two more guards were escorting his "hostages" from the room; they stared down at him, but didn't say a word as they were escorted down the corridor.

"Get up!" The guards yanked him to his feet, clearly testy after their half-hour standoff.

'What, you're not going to read me my rights?"

"This is a top-secret government facility," the head guard snapped. "You don't have any."

"Hmm. Almost surprising, that."

"This is the last time I'm telling you. Shut up."

An explosion rocked the building, causing guards to cry out in panic as parts of the ceiling fell down around them. "Get down!" the head guard yelled, though everyone already had anyway. He looked around frantically. The floor was littered with chunks of plaster. The walls behind him were on fire. And his prisoner had disappeared.

The head guard blasphemed thoroughly to himself as he got up. This was going to be a very bad day.

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Lyssa was standing outside the TARDIS doors, debating to herself whether they should wait there, go in, or figure out somewhere to run. Many of the other ex-captives were debating this too, especially the ones who'd been recently captured and/or part of less mainstream organizations. Lyssa knew she should make a decision, but she had no idea what to do, and she was very, very tired. Some of the prisoners had already left, and she couldn't help but be relieved. Fewer people to make decisions for.

But Andy, and Loren, and Rose, and the guy she'd given the key to, and the mysterious songbird sage, were all still there, and looking to her like she was their leader. And it was such a heavier weight than she'd ever have dreamed.

But maybe I can manage it. If I have to...

"Lyssa!"

She breathed a sign of relief. "Doctor!"

The Doctor ran up, looking-- well, she'd normally have deemed that look 'inordinately smug', but at the moment, she thought it was entirely called for. "It worked?"

She nodded wearily. "Most of them left. Here's your girlfriend. She has a fever; must be the retrovirus. Gonna be important, I'm pretty sure. Here's Andy; got him back. The guy with the messy hair's my boyfriend Loren. This guy with the broken arm was very helpful. Never asked his name."

"Ellis," he said, holding out his uninjured hand to the Doctor.

"And so was this lady. Never asked her name, either."

"Sibylla." She bowed to the Doctor. "We thank you for your efforts and our freedom."

"Right. You're welcome." The Doctor took Rose from Loren. "God, she's burning up. Retrovirus? --Oh."

He hesitated a moment, then sighed and opened the door of the TARDIS. "I think we should hole up in here for the time being. 'Till we sort out all this medical stuff."

"...It's a box," said Loren.

"If I were you, I'd apologize to this 'box' right now before she sends you on a scenic tour of all the spare rooms. Inside, everybody. At least one of us is being chased."

Lyssa smiled. "C'mon," she said, and grabbed Loren's shirt to pull him inside.

"What-- what the hell is this?"

"How-- how can this be in that!"

"You are from elsewhere, aren't you?"

"Doctor, where do you keep the beer?" Lyssa asked, a hint of desperation in her voice.

"Follow me," said the Doctor, easily assuming the mantle of command. "This is my spaceship. It's called the TARDIS. Don't piss her off. And for the love of god, don't break anything. Unless you want to have an interesting adventure in the man-eating jungles of Siberdian IV. But I really think you don't. I am not from your planet. I helped rescue you 'cos that's what I do. And also my companion here was captured. No, we are not a couple. No, you may not touch any levers. Yes, I can help that arm of yours. Yes, I will try to help counteract this virus for you, but I doubt there's any way to reverse the damage. Retroviruses splice things in, and I don't think there's an easy way to take that back out. Even if we did know what was spliced where. And judging by the changes you're exhibiting, there was more than one sequence spliced in. But we can probably keep this from progressing any further. No, I do not know how much that will help you. Lyssa, the alcohol is in the kitchen, third door to the left, second hallway, first door to the right, seventh cabinet. Knock yourself out, you deserve it. Any questions?"

"...Not yet," said Loren, wide-eyed.

"Fantastic. You, on the cot there. Be right with you." He settled Rose down on the other cot, brushing her hair from her forehead. "Her immune system's fighting the virus. I'll help it along and isolate the antibodies for you. Lyssa, why don't you bring some food for everyone while you're at it?"

"Sure. Do you have any chocolate?"

"Chocolate and alcohol? You have had a bad day, haven't you?"

"Yes. But I'm just having chocolate. Not worth the hangover."

"Third cabinet. Rummage around, you ought to find something."

"Right. Be right back." She left.

"...So," Loren said, sounding slightly wounded. "Doctor who?"

"Just the Doctor, actually."

"Right." Loren fidgeted.

"No, I'm not trying to steal your girlfriend," the Doctor sighed, rolling his eyes. "Considering all the trouble she just went through to get you back, I'd say you're safe."

"Oh. Um. Well." Loren coughed. "Sorry."

"No need. I'd have been bothered if you didn't worry. That's a damn special girl you've got there."

"Yeah. I noticed." He smiled hazily. "Wonder when she'll realize that and go find something better."

"Oi, boyfriend. Stop being an idiot." He chucked a bandage at him. "That's the kind of girl who knows what she's doing. Now, what's your name, Ellis, show me your arm..."

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"...Doctor...?"

He was at her side in an instant. "Right here, Rose."

"...Good. Knew you'd be. Wha'happ'n'd?"

"Remember what I said about this planet being perfectly harmless?"

"Yeah."

"Turns out I was wrong."

"That so?"

"Happens every so often."

"Would've never guessed. What was it?"

"Corrupt government killing two birds with one stone. Gather up dissidents; use 'em as fodder for your illegal military genetic experiments. Almost clever, really."

"They injected me with things..." Rose remembered, troubled.

"Don't worry. They had to use viruses to alter their subjects' DNA. They picked a retroviral that their planet's population by-and-large couldn't fight. You're not from their planet. Your system could detect it, and do a fairly good job of rooting it out. And your systems are similar enough that I could isolate your antibodies and vaccinate them."

"...Most of that was English, right?"

"Yeah. You should probably get some rest, you're still fighting off that fever."

"Dun' wanna rest. Sick of being knocked out. Happened way too much today. Is it still today?"

"It's been three days since we got here."

"Oh. Makes sense." She paused. "Got kidnapped by a magician."

"Yeah. Diabolical, really. Who'd ever be suspicious of someone disappearing during a magic trick?"

"Yeah. Stupid to've gone up there."

"No, it wasn't. How were you supposed to know? It was a magician! 'Sides, you can't travel through time and space without being willing to jump in head first."

"Yeah, fig'ered that one too." She closed her eyes.

"You really should rest."

"Yeah. How'd you get me out?"

"Hmm?"

"How'd you get me out?"

"Found a couple confederates. Infiltrated the system as a magician. Blew up a few things. I'll be happy to tell you the whole story when you're coherent."

"Tha'd be nice." Her eyes started to drift closed again. "Blew up a few things?"

He beamed. "Yep. Remind me to teach you about those explosives. Touchy little things, very easy to blow yourself up with 'em."

She was still a little hazy, but she grinned back at him. "Mm'hmm. Think I'll get some rest now."

"Yeah, you should."

"G'night, Doctor." Her eyes slipped shut

The Doctor found himself staring at her, scrutinizing her face like she was a stranger. Maybe she was. She should be.

But she didn't feel like a stranger. Not at all.

He didn't like getting attached to people; it was dangerous in his line of work, and a very bad idea.

A terrible idea. Something he'd never be crazy enough to do.

He'd thought that about a lot of things, once. For all his rampant lunacy, he'd thought there were some lines he'd never be persuaded to cross.

Innocence and vanity, and everything died.

Everything died.

And humans, with their tiny little life-spans, lucky if they reached a century. Crazy, bold enough to weigh honor over risk.

His people had never managed that. They'd played it safe, and now they were gone.

And crazy, reckless humans were scattered throughout the galaxy, their genetic legacy living on throughout the universe.

Which choice was foolish?

Did Rose Tyler, perhaps, actually know what she was doing?

He stared down at her, left without an answer.

But this is what she wants. These are risks she's willing to take, even if she knows she doesn't understand them. Willing to put all her trust in a stranger.

Now you see her...

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