Here's the next one, though I'll probably end up skipping the new new york one. Can't see Ripley not saving Martha, nor can I see her jumping through cars with the Doctor. But I hope you all enjoy!
Let me know what you think about what the Doctor's discovered about Ripley and if I should have him make something to "hear" her thoughts. It feels a bit cheesy, so I'm not sure yet how I'll go about it. Probably not like Doug (from Up).
"But how do you travel in time? What makes it go?" Martha asked over the noise of the Tardis while I tucked myself under the jump-seat as it rocked, staying out of the Doctor's way.
"Oh, let's take the fun and mystery out of everything. Martha, you don't want to know. It just does. Hold on tight!"
The Tardis finally stopped, and Martha fell to the floor while the Doctor was tossed off the console near me.
"Blimey! Do you have to pass a test to fly this thing?"
"Yes, and I failed," the Doctor chirped as I clambered out with a grumble.
Of course, you did. Doesn't that explain a lot? He smiled at me, as though knowing what I'd been thinking and ruffled my head before heading to the door and grabbing his coat.
"Now, make the most of it. I promised you one trip and one trip only. Outside this door, brave new world."
"Where are we?"
"Take a look," he said, opening the door. "After you."
Martha stepped out and the Doctor and I came out behind her. I sniffed with my nose in the air as kids ran by and people chatted in the cobblestone streets.
"Oh, you are kidding me. You are so kidding me. Oh, my God, we did it. We traveled in time. Where are we? No, sorry. I got to get used to this whole new language. When are we?"
"Mind out," the Doctor said, tugging her back as I yelped and ducked behind his legs the second someone dumped their toilet outside their window.
"Somewhere before the invention of the toilet. Sorry about that."
"I've seen worse. I've worked the late-night shift A+E," Martha brushed off as I wrinkled my nose at the scent, ears flicking back.
Yeah, I've been in some situations too, but that doesn't mean I enjoy other people's… well, shit.
"But are we safe? I mean, can we move around and stuff?"
"Of course, we can. Why do you ask?" The Doctor hummed.
"It's like in the films. You step on a butterfly, you change the future of the human race."
I mean, she's not wrong, but they are films. Time doesn't really work like that… right? I glanced at the Doctor who eyed her as though he'd never thought about it in that way.
"Tell you what then, don't step on any butterflies. What have butterflies ever done to you?"
I resisted the urge to grumble. Really? I don't think that's her point. I trailed alongside the Doctor and Martha as they continued to talk, sniffing around on occasion as we passed shop stalls. It was always fun to end up in a new place, especially as a dog. Everything was new and had its own scent, letting me know what animals were around and different things about the people who roamed the streets. I almost wandered off, if it hadn't been for the Doctor hooking a finger through my collar and pulling me to a stop.
"Careful there, Ripley. I don't want you wandering too far. The last thing we need is to lose you in 1599."
He let me go and I grumbled under my breath, turning away from the barrel I'd been heading towards and back to his side. There was another dog here though. I just wanted a sniff.
"If I'm right, we're just down the river by Southwark, right next to…" The Doctor took Martha's hand and jogged around a corner, startling me as I hurried to catch up. "Oh, yes, the Globe Theatre! Brand new. Just opened. Though, strictly speaking, it's not a globe, it's a tetradecagon. Fourteen sides. Containing the man himself."
No way. No fucking way! Shakespeare? We're going to see Shakespeare? I barked and bounced, spinning in a circle in my excitement as Martha came to the same conclusion.
"Whoa, you don't mean. Is Shakespeare in there?"
"Oh, yes. Miss Jones, will you accompany me to the theatre?" The Doctor asked, offering the crook of his elbow as she grinned.
"Mister Smith, I will." She paused though, eyeing my wagging tail and eager expression. "Hold on. I get understanding you and all, but why's she excited? It's not like she knows who Shakespeare is."
Don't know who Shakespeare is? Are you daft! Who doesn't know Shakespeare! I barked at her irritably earning a surprised look until the Doctor stepped in.
"Now, now. Calm down, Ripley. You've got to admit it's a good question."
A good—Oh, shit. I forgot I'm a dog. Oh, no. What now? How do I explain this? How can I explain? My brows furrowed, head tipped slightly as I tried to find a way to work this out, but a hand settled on my head as the Doctor smiled.
"Well, maybe she was just feeding off our own excitement? She is just a dog, after all."
Just a dog…I pouted, beginning to hate that saying, no matter how true it was. I was human, before. If there was a way to just tell you that, then maybe… I winced at the thought, imagining immediately how terribly that could go. I didn't want to end up in a position like before, getting tested and experimented on. The Doctor might not do that, but I worried how things would change if he knew.
"Oi! Get out of here, mangy mutt!"
I saw the shadow heading for me and jerked away, ears and tail quickly tucking themselves close with a wince, but the pain didn't come.
"Hey! She's with us!"
I peered my eyes open and felt relief flood my body at the sight of the Doctor standing in front of me, protecting me from the man who'd swung a leg at me.
"No mutts in the theater," the man spat, glaring at me as I stayed behind the Doctor's leg. "No exceptions."
The Doctor rubbed the back of his head, looking to Martha. "We can't just leave her here. Not that I don't trust her to stay put, but…" His gaze drifted to the man and Martha sighed.
"I guess we'll just have to take her back to the Tardis then and see the play another time."
No. No, I don't want… God, why did I have to be a dog? Why has this suddenly gotten so damn frustrating!
"I can take her if you want, sir."
The Doctor and I turned to the smiling blonde woman standing in the doorway of a tavern, wiping her hands in a rag.
"So long as she's quiet and doesn't bother my customers."
I hesitantly approached the woman when she crouched down, offering a hand to sniff and I instantly relaxed. She's a good person.
"Well, if she's willing, then I suppose it won't hurt," the Doctor mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. "Oh, I can pay you, of course!"
She nodded, patting my head as the Doctor handed her some money and knelt down with a smile at me.
"We'll be back soon, so be on your best behavior, Ripley."
I barked once in confirmation, sitting at the woman's heel and leaning my head against her skirt, showing the Doctor I trusted her to watch over me while they saw a play.
"Good girl."
He hooked his arm around Martha's and they disappeared into the crowd moving into the theater. I felt my ears flick back sadly, whining a little in disappointment that I couldn't go as well, but the woman pat my head once more, drawing my gaze up to her.
"There, there. Come. Your owner gave me a bit extra and I should have some extra stew for you."
I perked up at the thought of food, not remembering when I ate last and I bounded after her into the tavern. The few customers within eyed me curiously, a few making comments that the woman—Dolly—chuckled at. I was soon served a warm bowl of stew though, gobbling it down eagerly but being careful not to make a mess. I licked the bowl clean and barked once to get Dolly's attention, earning a grateful smile as she gathered it with some other dishes.
I felt bad though, just sitting around watching her serve people. I fidgeted and looked for something to do and spotted a table being abandoned. I hopped up and headed for it, putting my paws on the chair and grabbing a mug handle to bring to the kitchen. I managed to clear off most of it before a guest noticed, calling out and drawing her attention to me.
"No, no! Leave it!" She lightly scolded, making me hesitate but put back the plate I'd picked up.
"Now, now, Dolly. She was helping," a guest said, offering me a soft smile. "Clearing the table while you were refilling drinks."
Dolly took another look at the mostly clean table and smiled a little. "Well, then. So long as you're helping."
I wagged my tail, glad to be of help and grabbing the plate again, taking it to the kitchen and returning. I headed for the man who'd stood up for me though, curiosity drawing me in. Seems like a good person. I sniffed at his ankle stealthily, tucked under the table, and crawling forward on my elbows. Ink? A writer? My ears perked up at the kissing noise that drew my attention to a piece of chicken being offered under the table. Despite having just eaten, I couldn't help but move in and lightly take the offered table scrap, until I realized it put me within sight of the man I'd been sniffing. He's a bit… hot… I hastily ate the chicken and blinked at his soft smile.
He wasn't as scruffy as some of the others in the pub, sporting a goatee, and his brown hair slicked back. He was a roguishly handsome sort of guy that had caught my interest until I heard Dolly call for me. I gave him a second look, but he waved me off and I bounded away to see what the woman wanted. What I came in to, was her wielding a broom and eyeing a small shape nearby.
It was a rat. She'd called me in to help her catch a rat. I'm… not a cat, lady. She swiped at it, determined, but the creature easily dodged and made a beeline for the pub area.
"Don't let it out!"
I reacted to the command on instinct—my dog body having already gone alert the second it moved—and I jumped on it, grabbing its squirming body in my jaws just tight enough to keep it running off, but not hurting it. Dolly let out a sigh of relief and showed me the door, where I carefully lowered my head and set it down. The rat was more than pleased to leave, bolting away down the back alley and towards some sewage further down. I wrinkled my nose, having forgotten how gross the world was before plumbing.
"Thank you," Dolly muttered, patting my head and earning a pleased tail wag from me.
I yawned though, growing a little tired as I headed back to the pub area. It was getting late, so more people were around drinking, and Dolly hummed, looking concerned.
"Will? Would you mind terribly if I sent Ripley up to your room? I'm sure she's tired and I don't want her underfoot. Your play will be over soon as well, so her owners will be returning."
Will, the handsome man from before nodded. "Yes, yes. Send her up. I'll drop by to see how the play is fairing before returning, so I trust she's well-behaved."
Dolly nodded. "Yes, of course. I'll check in on her from time-to-time as well. Come on, Ripley."
I trailed after her up the stairs to another room where a table waited, covered in papers and quills. She dug through a cupboard and pulled out a blanket, laying it on the ground for me and smiling softly as I plodded over and got comfy.
"I'll be back in a bit. Go ahead and rest."
I yawned and watched her leave, before getting up and pulling the blanket under the table. I felt safer that way and soon settled into a soft sleep until the nightmares came. I jolted awake, startled by someone sitting in the chair just behind me only to relax as Will leaned over and shushed me quietly. He seemed to tell I'd been startled and murmured apologies, patting my head once I calmed and settled back down under the table at his feet.
A few more men entered to speak with him, but I was comfortable for now and ignored them, yawning once more and settling into the blanket I was given. Dolly entered with drinks, checking on me and cooing a little, patting my head before I caught the scent of something foul. I perked up; brows furrowed as I sniffed again. No. There's definitely something not right… but what? I slipped out from under the table, tugging out the blanket so it wouldn't be in the way and shaking myself out. I put my nose down to the ground, searching, but before I could locate the scent another one breezed in through the door.
"Hello! Excuse me, not interrupting, am I?"
Doctor! My tail began to wag and I barked and whined, bounding over to him and circling him eagerly. I missed you! How was the play! I wish I could've gone. Was it good? Did you meet Shakespeare? The Doctor chuckled, kneeling down and allowing me to slobber all over his face as my whole body wagged with my tail.
"Yes, yes, Ripley! I missed you too! Hope you didn't cause any trouble."
"Oh, she was no trouble, sir," Dolly smiled. "Helped me around the pub downstairs very well. Did you train her?"
"Oh, well. Trains herself, really," the Doctor said, standing again and holding me as I continued to fuss and lean close to him—pressing my joy and curiosity towards him as well. "Now then, Shakespeare, isn't it?"
Will groaned, complaining about him getting let in and sketches and such as it clicked. Oh, my God. I was just hanging out with Shakespeare? You're joking. He's not really… He looks nothing like the portraits! Then, Martha walked in and Will hummed.
"Hey, nonny nonny. Sit right down here next to me. You two get sewing on them costumes. Off you go." He shooed off the two men who'd entered and even Dolly rolled her eyes.
Shakespeare, as it turns out, was a player.
"Sweet lady," Will purred, allowing an enthusiastic Martha to sit beside him as the Doctor settled across the way with me being placed in a chair. "Such unusual clothes. So fitted."
"Uh, verily, forsooth, egads," Martha tried, and I tipped my head in confusion.
What the hell is she doing? The Doctor too winced.
"No, no. Don't do that. Don't." He cleared his throat, pulling out that psychic paper of his. "I'm Sir Doctor of Tardis and this is my companion, Miss Martha Jones, and Ripley."
I barked, happy at being included and earning a small smile from Will.
"Interesting, that bit of paper. It's blank."
The Doctor was surprised but pleased. "Oh, that's very clever. That proves it. Absolute genius."
Martha looked at the paper though, confused. "No, it says right there. Sir Doctor, Martha Jones. It says so."
"And I say it's blank," Will challenged.
I grabbed the paper from the Doctor, surprising him as I dropped it on the table and stared at it in confusion. Will's right. I'm not seeing anything. How's this work, anyway? I picked it up again, only for the Doctor to tug it from my mouth.
"Hey, hey! You're getting drool on—"
He went quiet, confusing me as he stared at the paper in surprise. I tipped my head, curious as to what caught his attention, and tried to take the paper again, only for him to tuck it away and force a smile as he lightly pushed me off him and back to the chair.
"It's a psychic paper," he explained to Martha.
Or began to, anyway, struggling with how to explain it as Will began to hit on Martha. It was weird though. Why'd the Doctor suddenly stop? Did I actually damage the psychic paper? He never really explained what it does, but he didn't get angry either. I leaned over and nudged the Doctor's hand with my nose, flipping it onto my head. He smiled again, petting me briefly just before a large man stepped in and shouted.
"Excuse me! Hold hard a moment. This is abominable behavior. A new play with no warning? I demand to see a script, Mister Shakespeare. As Master of the Revels, every new script must be registered at my office and examined by me before it can be performed."
I was a bit put off by the guy, ears flicking back in annoyance, but holding back a growl for now. Will hardly looked bothered, after all, as he sighed.
"Tomorrow morning, first thing, I'll send it round."
"I don't work to your schedule, you work to mine. The script, now!"
Oh, I get it. He's Will's boss. Yikes.
"I can't."
"Then tomorrow's performance is canceled. I'm returning to my office for a banning order. If it's the last thing I do, Love's Labors Won will never be played."
Love Labor's what? I looked at the Doctor. Did I hear that right? I don't remember a play like that. The Doctor winked at me, making me grumble a little. Damn. Can't hear me, can't understand me. I really need to find a better way to communicate or I'm going to go mad.
"Well then, mystery solved. That's Love's Labors Won over and done with. Thought it might be something more, you know, more mysterious," Martha hummed, lifting her mug only for someone outside to scream.
I perked up, jumping from the chair and scrambling out barking with the Doctor on my heels. It was the large man from before, struggling with water just pouring from his mouth. I wasn't sure what to do as the Doctor and Martha rushed over to help him and he collapsed to the ground. I whined, uncertain as I fidgeted beside Will.
"There, there, Ripley," he murmured, kneeling down and petting my head before I caught that sour scent again.
I looked over to my right, seeing a blonde maid from the tavern. She was the one who smelled foul, and she was smiling. Will had stood back up, but I flicked my ears back and growled at the woman, who turned to me with a frown.
"Good mistress, this poor fellow has died from a sudden imbalance of the humors. A natural if unfortunate demise. Call a constable and have him taken away," the Doctor commanded, and the woman I growled at quickly offered to do so, scuttling off as I continued to snarl and watch her go.
She's like that older woman from the hospital. She's dangerous, and I'll bet she's the one who hurt that man. Or, at least knows why. She was smiling. Who smiles when someone is dying?
"Ripley? What's wrong?"
I turned to the Doctor and calmed down, realizing again, that I had no possible way to explain the danger of the woman who'd gone. I looked back to where she went, but there was no sign of her. I'll just have to keep the Doctor safe then. Can't let them get caught by her when they don't even know she's dangerous. I huffed, puffing up in determination as the Doctor shook his head; undoubtedly having no idea what was going on.
We returned to Will's room and Dolly ruffled my ears as she informed the Doctor that she'd set up a room for us. No one but Will had taken a seat, so I figured we'd be heading to bed soon, something I was grateful for. A still-growing puppy needed far more rest than what I was getting.
"Poor Lynley," Will murmured. "So many strange events. Not least of all, this land of Freedonia where a woman can be a doctor?"
Free… what? The Doctor made that up, didn't he? I shot said man a look, but he wasn't paying attention as Martha smirked at Will.
"Where a woman can do what she likes."
"And you, Sir Doctor. How can a man so young have eyes so old?"
I felt the Doctor stiffen and leaned up against his leg in comfort. He's perceptive, isn't he, Doc?
"I do a lot of reading," the Doctor replied, eyeing the playwright who smiled.
"A trite reply. Yeah, that's what I'd do. And you? You look at him like you're surprised he exists. He's as much of a puzzle to you as he is to me," he commented and Martha, feeling rattled, fidgeted.
"I think we should say goodnight."
She stepped out and Will stood with a small stretch.
"I must work. I have a play to complete. But I'll get my answers tomorrow, Doctor, and I'll discover more about you and why this constant performance of yours."
"'All the world's a stage,'" the Doctor quoted.
"Hm, I might use that." Will looked to me then, kneeling down as I approached and let him scratch my ears. "And you are so curious as well. Full of so many expressions and emotions. More than any dog I've met before. So much more human, eh, Ripley?"
I quickly went from enjoying the pets to hesitant, taking a small step back from him. How did he… Does he know? How? How could he know? Will stood though, waving us out with a goodnight and I slowly trailed after the Doctor to the room Dolly had prepared.
"It's not exactly five star, is it?" Martha commented when we entered, though I looked at the small bundle of blankets left for me eagerly.
Better than some of the places I've camped at. I grabbed a blanket and started to drag it under the bench by the window, not even noticing the Doctor watching me with a raised brow.
"So, who's going where? I mean, there's only one bed," Martha mused, making me pause as the Doctor flopped onto it.
"We'll manage. Come on."
Oh. He's got no clue, does he? Dimwit. She likes you. Have a little tact, would ya? I huffed through my nose with a roll of my eyes, going back to adjusting my blankets with my paws and nose.
"So, magic and stuff. That's a surprise. It's all a little bit Harry Potter."
"Wait till you read book seven. Oh, I cried."
I barked with a whine. Don't spoil it! I was in Borneo when it came out and never got the chance. He chuckled at me but didn't say any more about it as Martha questioned him further.
"But is it real, though? I mean, witches, black magic, and all that, it's real?"
"Course it isn't!"
"Well, how am I supposed to know? I've only just started believing in time travel. Give me a break."
"Looks like witchcraft, but it isn't," the Doctor explained. "Can't be. Are you going to stand there all night?"
"Budge up a bit, then," she said, moving to the other side and settling beside him. "Sorry, there's not much room. Us two here, same bed. Tongues will wag."
Oh, God. It's like watching a cheap rom-com. I dug a bit in my blankets, settling on them and watching the two, ignoring the slightly uneasy feeling in my chest.
"There's such a thing as psychic energy, but a human couldn't channel it like that," the Doctor went on, ignoring her or not even noticing what she'd said. "Not without a generator the size of Taunton and I think we'd have spotted that. No, there's something I'm missing, Martha. Something really close, staring me right in the face and I can't see it."
I resisted the urge to want to hop on the bed and get between them, but the Doctor solved that problem by rolling away from her and sighing as he stared up at the ceiling.
"Rose'd know. A friend of mine, Rose. Right now, she'd say exactly the right thing. Still, can't be helped. You're a novice, never mind. I'll take you back home tomorrow."
"Great," Martha spat, rolling the other way and blowing out the candle.
Clueless git, I snorted, closing my eyes as Martha fell asleep, only to open them when there was a creak of the bed. The Doctor had gotten up and headed for me, making me lift my head with a small yawn. He plopped down on the floor in front of me and I raised a brow, dropping my head in his lap, curious as to what he wanted. Surprisingly enough, he pulled out that wallet again, looking at the paper with a frown. What? Something wrong with it? He eyed me then, before setting it on my nose. I went cross-eyed trying to look at it, before sneezing and lifting my head so it toppled off. Why'd you do that? He picked it up then and looked at it, cracking a smile.
"Will was right. You're certainly special, aren't you?"
What do you mean? I tipped my head, confused and he showed me the paper. It was still blank, and I barely spared it a glance.
"Can you see it?" He asked, setting it on my nose again for a brief moment until I shook my head to get it off.
No, I can't see it. What are you getting at?
"What I'm getting at is, either Torchwood did something more to you than I thought, or you're not really a dog."
What? Hold on. Seriously. Wait… Did you just answer me? Can you hear me? I stood, pressing my front paws onto his chest and making him steady himself to not topple over as the wallet brushed over the side of my head. And stop tapping me in the head!
"Sorry. Just thought your head would give a better connection."
I rolled my eyes. Connection my ars—Hold on. You can hear me! I whined as my tail whipped back and forth behind me, feeling happier than I had in ages. Then, he tapped my paw with the wallet and gave it a look.
"Ah, no. Sorry. I can't… I can't hear you, per se. It's this." He waved the wallet. "It's a psychic paper. It can tap into the thoughts of people and show others what they want it to say. Thing is, it doesn't usually work on animals. Back with Shakespeare though, when you took it, it changed. I think… I think it's picking up your thoughts."
No way. Really? I… I can talk with you now? Properly talk? I nudged the wallet with my nose, and he looked at the words that must have appeared on it.
"Well, as proper as you can get, anyway." He paused, eyeing me. "Did Torchwood do this to you?"
I shook my head and touched the wallet. No. I've always spoke—thought—like this. No one's been able to hear me is all. Being… well, a dog.
"You say that like you weren't always a dog. My scans said you were though. DNA checked out and everything."
I don't get it either. I was hu—My thoughts were cut off when there was a sudden scream and I whipped away from the Doctor as ice flowed through my veins. Dolly. That was Dolly! I bolted to the door, slamming into it in protest until the Doctor yanked it open and let me through. I bolted down the hall into Will's room, seeing that woman standing near the window. I growled, barking aggressively and charging at her, but she slipped through the window with a hiss as the Doctor and Martha rushed in.
"What? What was that?" Will murmured, half asleep as Martha came up beside me and stared, gapping out the window. "Ripley? Why are you barking?"
Didn't you see? Will, that woman was—I saw the Doctor kneeling by Dolly then and stopped, heading over with a whine. He rushed over to the window as well when Martha called, but I nudged Dolly's hand with my nose, getting no response. She… She's dead. Why? What did that woman do? Oh, I should've told someone. Showed her to them or, or something. Dolly might not be dead if I had just… A hand settled on my head and I looked up at the Doctor sadly.
"I know," he murmured, scooping me up and holding me close before sending Martha out to get someone to take her body away.
We'd ended up staying awake while that happened, getting no more sleep as Will sighed.
"Oh, sweet Dolly Bailey. She sat out three bouts of the plague in this place when we all ran like rats. But what could have scared her so? She had such enormous spirit."
"'Rage, rage against the dying of the light,'" the Doctor quoted.
"I might use that."
"You can't," the Doctor sighed. "It's someone else's."
His hand ran over my back comfortingly, knowing I had liked Dolly and wasn't handling her death well. As someone who's long since gotten used to the idea of dying, it's still sad having it happen to someone you know. I wonder how my parents are handling mine. If they've even realized it yet. They might still think I'm out traveling or something… I should have written more often.
"You're accusing me?" Will said; voice raised at the accusation Martha had presented.
"No, but I saw a witch, big as you like, flying, cackling away, and you've written about witches."
"I have? When was that?"
"Not, not quite yet," the Doctor warned her, but it had sparked an idea in the playwright's mind.
"Peter Streete spoke of witches."
"Who's Peter Streete?" Martha questioned.
"Our builder. He sketched the plans to the Globe."
The Doctor perked up then. "The architect. Hold on. The architect!" The Doctor slammed a hand on the table, startling me as he bolted up—me in his arms rather confused. "The architect! The Globe! Come on!"
Ok. I guess we're going to the theater.
The Doctor looked around the Globe with a small frown. "The columns there, right? Fourteen sides. I've always wondered, but I never asked. Tell me, Will. Why fourteen sides?"
"It was the shape Peter Streete thought best, that's all. Said it carried the sound well."
"Fourteen," the Doctor muttered, trying to figure it out. "Why does that ring a bell? Fourteen."
There was a bark then and he turned, only to snort at seeing Ripley rolling around in the dirt without a care. Still a dog at heart then. He pulled out a ball and squeaked it, amused when she immediately stopped rolling and was on her feet—eyes locked onto the ball until he threw it and she bolted after, as happy as can be. Definitely have to get her out more often. She needs the exercise.
"There's fourteen lines in a sonnet," Martha offered, drawing him back to the task on hand.
"So, there is. Good point. Words and shapes following the same design. Fourteen lines, fourteen sides, fourteen facets. Oh, my head. Tetradecagon. Think, think, think! Words, letters, numbers, lines!"
"This is just a theatre," Will shrugged, earning a grumble of complaint from Ripley as she dropped the ball at the Doctor's feet.
The Doctor got the feeling she didn't appreciate him talking like that about the theatre but couldn't quite argue with him. It was definitely going to be different for them now that he knew she had an almost human intelligence behind those barks and yips. He'd have to start paying more attention to the physical signs she gave off. Having human intelligence and a dog's senses were more than helpful.
"But a theatre's magic, isn't it? You should know. Stand on this stage, say the right words with the right emphasis at the right time. Oh, you can make men weep, or cry with joy. Change them. You can change people's minds just with words in this place. But if you exaggerate that…" he offered, trying to show him the point as Martha grinned and he threw Ripley's ball again.
"It's like your police box. Small wooden box with all that power inside."
"Oh. Oh, Martha Jones, I like you. Tell you what, though. Peter Streete would know. Can I talk to him?"
Will shrugged. "You won't get an answer. A month after finishing this place, lost his mind."
"Why? What happened?" Martha asked, concerned.
"Started raving about witches, hearing voices, babbling. His mind was addled."
"Where is he now?" The Doctor questioned.
"Bedlam."
Ripley dropped her ball, looking a bit worried as her ears flicked back uneasily.
"What's Bedlam?"
"Bethlem Hospital. The madhouse."
"We're going to go there. Right now. Come on." The Doctor paused though, looking to Ripley. "You think they'd let us…"
Will tipped his head. "I don't see why not."
Ripley barked, standing and looking eager. The Doctor didn't want to leave her alone at all, but he doubted the pup would just obediently return to the Tardis until this was solved. That and the Doctor knew he wouldn't get all the answers he wanted from Peter Streete. Having Ripley around could prove helpful.
"On we go, then." He smiled, leading the way once more through the town as Will followed—idly chatting.
"So, tell me of Freedonia, where women can be doctors, writers, actors."
"This country's ruled by a woman."
"Ah, she's royal. That's God's business. Though you are a royal beauty."
"Whoa, Nelly. I know for a fact you've got a wife in the country."
"But Martha, this is Town."
"Aroo ooh," Ripley grumbled, earning a chuckle from Will as the Doctor sighed himself.
"Come on. We can all have a good flirt later."
"Is that a promise, Doctor?" Will teased, ruffling Ripley's fur with a smirk and making the Doctor groan.
"Oh, fifty-seven academics just punched the air. Now move!"
It was spooky just being outside Bedlam. I could sense the uneasiness of the people within and hoped that whatever the Doctor needed to find would be found quickly. The inside was even worse. I stuck close to the Doctor, who tricked the guard into allowing me in, keeping my ears flat against my skull and my tail tucked uneasily. There was no healing inside of this hospital, which was only proven when the guard offered to whip the men for fun.
"No, I don't!" The Doctor snapped, making me growl as well as the guard huffed in disappointment and left to ensure the man would be decent for Martha's sake.
"So, this is what you call a hospital, yeah? Where the patients are whipped to entertain the gentry? And you put your friend in here?" Martha hissed at Will, who frowned, not looking thrilled about being here either.
"Oh, it's all so different in Freedonia," he bit out snarkily.
"But you're clever. Do you honestly think this place is any good?"
"I've been mad. I've lost my mind. Fear of this place set me right again. It serves its purpose." Will looked to his side, smiling softly as Ripley leaned up against him with a whine.
The Doctor wondered if she was a bit of an empath too, or if it was just like that old saying that dogs just knew how people felt.
"Mad in what way?" Martha asked.
"You lost your son," the Doctor answered for him, earning a nod as he lightly pet Ripley's head.
"My only boy. The Black Death took him. I wasn't even there."
"I didn't know. I'm sorry," Martha apologized.
"It made me question everything. The futility of this fleeting existence. To be or not to be. Oh, that's quite good."
The Doctor was grateful for the lightness the man's joy of words brought; Ripley looking relieved as well as her tongue lolled out of her mouth and she panted happily.
"You should write that down."
"Maybe not. A bit pretentious?"
Ripley barked, earning a chuckle from Will as the guard led them down to Peter Streete's cell.
"They can be dangerous, my lord. Don't know their own strength," the guard warned, making the Doctor's blood boil again.
"I think it helps if you don't whip them. Now get out!"
Ripley growled, hackles rising with his anger and the guard closed the cell door and left, eyeing her with a frown. Once left alone, the Doctor moved towards the thin, frightened-looking man sitting on a tattered bed.
"Peter? Peter Streete?"
"He's the same as he was. You'll get nothing out of him," Will offered, having remembered when he'd visited the man last.
"Peter?"
The man snapped his head up when the Doctor placed a hand on his shoulder and Ripley growled a little, but the Doctor held out a hand towards her and she slowly stopped, lying down on the ground—cautious and alert. Slowly, to not startle the man further, the Doctor placed his fingers on his temples.
"Peter, I'm the Doctor. Go into the past. One year ago. Let your mind go back. Back to when everything was fine and shining. Everything that happened in this year since happened to somebody else. It was just a story. A Winter's Tale. Let go. That's it. That's it, just let go," he murmured, voice soft and calm as he laid the man down. "Tell me the story, Peter. Tell me about the witches."
Will hadn't expected anything to come of this but was pleasantly surprised when Peter did indeed began speaking, weaving a tale about making the Globe to the design of the very witches who "snapped his wits."
"Where did Peter see the witches? Where in the city? Peter, tell me. You've got to tell me, where were they?" The Doctor insisted, hoping to have a location.
"All Hallows Street."
Ripley began to growl then, on her feet in an instant just as a crackly old voice spoke up right beside him.
"Too many words."
"What the hell!" Martha gaped at the elderly woman in a black cloak who hadn't been there just a second ago.
Staying cautious of the visitor, the Doctor hastily moved away from her and Peter, Ripley moving in front of him with a vicious snarl.
"Just one touch of the heart."
"No!" The Doctor shouted, making Ripley bark as the witch touched Peter's chest and the man collapsed back onto the bed, dead.
"Witch! I'm seeing a witch!" Will called out as said witch pointed her finger at them.
"Now, who would be next, hmm? Just one touch. Oh, oh, I'll stop your frantic hearts. Poor, fragile mortals."
"Let us out!" Martha screamed, pounding on the bars.
"That's not going to work. The whole building's shouting that," the Doctor stopped her as the witch hummed.
"Who will die first, hm?"
"Well, if you're looking for volunteers," the Doctor offered, only for Ripley to move in front of him again, barking and snarling like mad from her spot between his legs, making the witch hiss at her.
"Doctor, can you stop her?" Will asked.
"No mortal has power over me," the witch hissed.
"Oh, but there's a power in words. If I can find the right one. If I can just know you," the Doctor mused, making the witch move her finger towards him.
"None on Earth has knowledge of us."
"Then it's a good thing I'm here," he replied; Ripley moving forward as he took a step away from the witch's finger. "Now think, think, think, because I'd really rather not have Ripley hurt anyone again. Not today."
Said dog was still snarling, teeth flaring white in the candlelight and eyes near silver in color instead of their usual deep shade of blue. Martha was one of the few who shivered at the sight, remembering the corpse of Miss Finnegan from the hospital and the dog who'd stubbornly protected the Doctor even afterward.
"Humanoid female, uses shapes and words to channel energy. Ah! Fourteen! That's it! Fourteen!" The Doctor cheered, taking a step forward, much to the witch's displeasure. "The fourteen stars of the Rexel planetary configuration! Creature, I name you Carrionite!"
The witch screamed and vanished, stunning the others.
"What did you do?"
"I named her. The power of a name. That's old magic," the Doctor explained, eyes blazing seriously.
"But there's no such thing as magic," Martha argued.
"Well, it's just a different sort of science. You lot, you chose mathematics. Given the right string of numbers, the right equation, you can split the atom. Carrionites use words instead."
"Use them for what?" Will asked.
"The end of the world. Now, Ripley, everything's okay," he said softly, kneeling down near the dog who'd not yet stopped snarling at where the witch had been. "Ripley." He touched her back, making her whip to him with her teeth bared before she slowly began to calm as he ran his hand down her back, unfearfully. "There we are. There you go. She's gone now. You don't need to worry anymore, eh?"
She lowered her hackles, lips falling over her teeth once more as she licked her chops uneasily. The Doctor smiled softly, passing his hand over her ears and kissing the top of her nose.
"Good girl."
A small grumble of complaint rumbled from her throat as he scooped her up and she tucked her head under his chin. He could feel it though, her worry for him. Made him feel just a little less lonely. I'll have to see if I can rig something up to let us hear her thoughts properly. She must be lonely herself, with no one to talk to.
I panted, a little out of breath as we bounded into a courtyard, searching for the All Hallows street that Peter had claimed held the witches. We'd sent Will to go stop the play, which the witches were apparently manipulating to bring about the end of the world. How? I'm not exactly sure, but I really don't like them. Even now, I could smell it. That foul scent had grown stronger in the courtyard and I put my nose to the ground in search as the Doctor rambled overhead and Martha questioned just how dangerous this really was.
"The thing is, though am I missing something here? The world didn't end in 1599. It just didn't. Look at me. I'm living proof."
The Doctor groaned. "Oh, how to explain the mechanics of the infinite temporal flux?"
Even I paused to give him a look. Infinite temporal what?
"I know! Back to the Future. It's like Back to the Future."
Really? So, time changes in the past and those it affects… Oh, dear.
"Marty McFly goes back and changes history."
Martha gasped in understanding. "And he starts fading away. Oh my God, am I going to fade?"
"You and the entire future of the human race. It ends right now in 1599 if we don't stop it. But which house?"
I barked, drawing his attention to me as I turned to look towards the house that smelled the foulest. The door to said house creaked open as well and the Doctor hummed.
"Ah, make that witch house. Good job, Ripley. Excellent nose."
I preened at the praise, accepting the pat on the head as we headed into the house and up the stairs. Waiting for us was the blonde maid from the pub, making me growl low in my throat as the Doctor walked forward beside me, leaning against my shoulder a bit to silently ask me to behave.
"I take it we're expected."
"Oh, I think Death has been waiting for you a very long time," she purred, and Martha stepped up.
"Right then, it's my turn. I know how to do this. I name thee Carrionite!"
The maid faked a gasp, chuckling as Martha frowned in confusion.
"What did I do wrong? Was it the finger?"
"The power of a name works only once. Observe. I gaze upon this bag of bones and now I name thee Martha Jones."
Martha's eyes rolled up into her head and she collapsed, making me bark at the witch who hissed at me and the Doctor snapped as well.
"What have you done?"
"Only sleeping, alas. It's curious. The name has less impact. She's somehow out of her time," the witch explained as the Doctor laid Martha down and stood up, eyes fierce. "And as for you, Sir Doctor… Fascinating. There is no name. Why would a man hide his title in such despair?"
I growled again, being sure to put myself between her and him, drawing her gaze to me.
"And you, the barking annoyance." She smirked then, making my ears flick back uneasily. "Well, now. Are you a curious thing?" She pointed, making me bare my teeth. "Once a human of such weak heart, now a tiny mutt clinging to her old name: Ripley Newhart."
For a second, my heart pounded, making my tail tuck underneath me as I shrank away from the witch. It was a familiar feeling. One that brought back memories of painful attacks, of lying in a hospital bed choking for air with no relief as my chest burned.
"Ripley?" The Doctor muttered, concerned as I flinched away, and the witch chuckled.
"Oh, but look. There's still one word with the power that aches the Doctor."
Said man stood tall, tucking me behind him as I caught my breath, struggling to shake off the aftereffects of what the witch had done.
"The naming won't work on me," he declared.
"But your heart grows cold. The north wind blows and carries down the distant Rose."
And immediately, I felt fire. The Doctor stormed forward without caution and snarled down at her.
"Oh, big mistake. Because that name keeps me fighting. The Carrionites vanished. Where did you go?"
Even the witch seemed unsettled, moving away as she answered. I n-need to calm down, I told myself, shaking my head and focusing on the beating of my heart. It was fine now, and while the memories will linger, there was a bigger problem here. I need to keep the Doctor safe. Peering back up, I felt fear rise in me. She was up close to the Doctor again after having spouted out their plan. Her hand brushed over his face then, but I'd spotted her other hand with a pair of scissors and rushed in.
The Doctor turned at my barking, whipping back around as there was a snip of his hair being cut.
"What did you do?"
"Souvenir," she purred before flying out the window when I jumped at her.
"Give it back!" The Doctor shouted, but I was one step ahead.
I jumped onto the windowsill and out into the open air after her. She screeched when my teeth dug into her arm, making her drop the hair clutched in her hand. She struggled to pry me off, but I wasn't letting go, ignoring the foul taste of blood in my mouth as I shook my head and kicked at her with my feet.
"Ripley!" The Doctor shouted, half leaning out the window as the two of us fought one another.
"You pest!" The witch screamed, her free hand grabbing the scruff of my neck. "Flame of fire and flame of light, release me from this bitch's bite!"
Fire licked at my back and I yelped, releasing her arm and finding myself tumbling to the cobblestones below.
"Ripley!"
The witch herself snarled and flew off towards the Globe, but I had hit the ground hard, knocking the air from my lungs and disorienting myself. My back ached and I forced myself onto wobbly limbs as I scrambled for water. I found a divot in the road with a puddle and rolled into it. Once cooled, I laid there in exhaustion, panting and whining lightly. Oh, why did I do that? The Doctor's making me an idiot, he is. Jumping out windows, attaching flying witches. And my parents thought skydiving was going to be the end of me. Footsteps pounded over and I turned my gaze towards the Doctor as he dashed out into the courtyard with Martha.
"Ripley!"
I pushed myself onto my feet, shaking off the excess water with a grimace. Tender back. Great. He's so going to lock me in the Tardis again. I glanced at him as I slowly approached, head ducked down uneasily as I came out of the shadows.
"Ripley!" He cried again, stepping towards me and kneeling down, hands raised hesitantly as he looked over my wet, tattered form. "Oh, you daft dog," he murmured, pulling me towards him, much to my surprise and holding me up against his chest.
I licked his cheek, allowing him to hold me tight as I whined slightly.
"What were you thinking?"
I wanted you safe. I was scared. I didn't want to end up alone. I pressed my head against his cheek pressing these feelings towards him as best I could, and he sighed.
"You scared me too," he murmured, pulling back and running a hand over my head, carefully checking my back to see how bad the witch's attack was. "You're lucky you weren't hurt worse. Don't do that again though, okay? I don't want to lose you either."
I whined again, tucking my head under his chin. No promises. You get into far too many messes for me to just stand by and watch. The Doctor sighed as if knowing what I had been thinking.
"Yeah, there's no way you'll do that."
"Doctor, the play!" Martha reminded him and he hastily stood.
"Right! Ripley, you good for running?"
I barked, shaking my fur again and pushing back any exhaustion I'd been feeling a moment ago and bounding after him as we ran. We almost headed the wrong way before doubling back and pulling to a stop as we caught sight of the ominous red glowing cloud above the globe. I panted heavily, body not used to this much running, and limbs aching slightly. Honestly, it's not good to exercise a dog this young for extended amounts of time. We need to stop this mess, quick.
We finally made it to the Globe, slipping in the stage door to find Will in a chair, rubbing at his head.
"Stop the play. I think that was it. Yeah, I said, stop the play!" The Doctor chided him.
"I hit my head," he complained.
"Yeah, don't rub it, you'll go bald. I think that's my cue! Ripley! Find the witches! We'll stop the play!"
I barked, ducking past the stage curtains and spotting said witches up in a balcony. With a growl, I hurried for the stairs leading up, determined to not fail this time around. I made it to one balcony—not the right one and moved to prop myself up on the railing. Witch demons flew around, cackling and swinging at any people who leaned too close. Will, Martha and the Doctor were on the stage, arguing about something before Will began to speak above the storm.
"Close up this din of hateful, dire decay, decomposition of your witches' plot. You thieve my brains, consider me your toy. My doting Doctor tells me I am not! Foul Carrionite specters, cease your show! Between the points…"
"Seven, six, one, three, nine, oh!" The Doctor supplied as I ducked back down and searched for the right balcony, finding it just as the witches began to wail.
The witches turned hissing at me as the other Carrionites vanished with the scripts. I won't let them get away now! Then, the smoke cleared, and applauding started up, but the witches were gone, sucked into the orb they'd been holding. I neared it, snorting in disgust and pawing at the orb just as the Doctor ducked in.
"That's them gone, eh?"
I laid on the stage sprawled out and sunbathing as Martha and Will flirted. My back felt much better after some burn salve the Doctor found in his coat, and it was already mostly healed—though the fur would take a bit longer to grow back. Thankfully, it hadn't been worse off, which it undoubtedly would if I'd panicked like any normal dog.
I yawned, stretching and rolling onto my back, paws up in the air and tail tucking itself close as I lightly dozed. That's the witches dealt with and the Doctor's taking a peek backstage before we head back to the Tardis. I think I could do with a good lie-in. Maybe I'll sit the next adventure out.
"Good props store back there. I'm not sure about this though. Reminds me of a Sycorax," the Doctor chimed in, having returned with a ruffled collar and a steer skull.
I turned slightly, peering an eye open as Will hummed.
"Sycorax. Nice word. I'll have that off you as well."
"I should be on ten percent," the Doctor smiled. "How's your head?"
"Still aching."
"Here, I got you this."
I snorted when he took the ruffled collar and placed it on Will. There's the iconic look we know.
"Neckbrace. Wear that for a few days till it's better, although you might want to keep it. It suits you."
"What about the play?" Martha asked as the Doctor approached me and knelt down, rubbing my belly and chest, and making my back leg kick.
Oh, that's the spot.
"Gone. I looked all over. Every single copy of Love's Labors Won went up in the sky," he answered, cooing about me being a good dog, much to their amusement.
"Oh, but I've got new ideas," Will smiled. "Perhaps it's time I wrote about fathers and sons, in memory of my boy, my precious Hamnet."
That made me pause, lifting my head in confusion as Martha did much the same.
"Hamnet?"
"That's him."
"Hamnet?" Martha repeated
"What's wrong with that?"
"Anyway," the Doctor interrupted, picking up the orb with the Carrionites inside. "Time we were off. I've got a nice attic in the Tardis where this lot can scream for all eternity, and I've got to take Martha back to Freedonia."
"You mean travel on through time and space."
I fell over with a small "thud" looking at Will in shock as the Doctor reacted much the same.
"You what?"
"You're from another world like the Carrionites, and Martha is from the future. It's not hard to work out. Though Ripley still confuses me. A human in a dog body just seems odd."
My mouth dropped open. Are you serious? The Doctor may have only just figured that out, but it took you all of a couple of days?
"That's incredible," the Doctor hummed. "You are incredible."
"We're alike in many ways, Doctor," Will smiled, looking to Martha. "Martha, let me say goodbye to you in a new verse. A sonnet for my Dark Lady. Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate."
I was on my feet now as two of Will's actors rushed in talking about someone important showing up. And by important, I soon discovered they meant very important. Trumpets started up as the Queen herself stepped foot in the Globe, making me wish I was human so I could me smacking the Doctor's arm in my shock.
"Queen Elizabeth the First!" The Doctor beamed, though the woman who spotted him looked less than pleased.
"Doctor?"
"What?"
"My sworn enemy."
"What?"
"Off with his head!"
"What!"
"Never mind what, just run!" Martha called as her guards began to head for us. "See you, Will, and thanks!"
I barked as well, thankful to him as the Queen shouted.
"Stop that pernicious Doctor!"
We ran through the town, slipping past people as I laughed and barked in excitement. The Doctor too, sent me a grin as we made for the Tardis with Martha complaining.
"What have you done to upset her?"
"How should I know? Haven't even met her yet. That's time travel for you. Still, can't wait to find out. That's something to look forward to. Ooh! In, Ripley!"
I ducked in quickly with him following just as an arrow hit the door. Oh, the running just never stops, does it?