"I hate hospitals," the Doctor complained the moment we walked in and I had to agree with him.
This wasn't the first time I'd been in a hospital. With the job I'd had, it was almost a common occurrence. If I wasn't in for my own injuries, then I was in to deal with a victim or a suspect or the family of. If I wasn't dealing with nurses, sobbing, or angry families of victims, then it was for injured partners or… deaths of comrades. I frowned, startling one of the cat nurses that shuffled past us, causing her to pick up her pace with a barely heard growl.
"I'd have to agree with you on that one," I murmured to the Doctor as Rose eyed him.
"Bit rich, coming from you, Doctor."
"I can't help it. I don't like hospitals. They give me the creeps." He shivered as Rose looked around with a hum.
"Very smart. Not exactly NHS."
The Doctor though pouted. "No shop. I like a little shop."
"I thought this far in the future, they'd have cured everything," Rose wondered, and I grimaced at her naïvety.
"Maybe they cured our current diseases, but diseases evolve. Medicine will always struggle to keep up."
"He's right," the Doctor agreed. "The human race moves on, but so do viruses. It's an ongoing war."
It was then that Rose seemed to realize that the nurses passing us weren't human.
"They're cats."
I raised a brow. "You're a bit slow, aren't ya?"
She shot me a glare at the rude comment as the Doctor cut in to try and calm rising tensions.
"Now, don't stare. Think what you look like to them, all pink and yellow." He abruptly pointed to an empty area near the door. "That's where I'd put the shop. Right there."
I rolled my eyes and nodded towards the nearby lifts. "Are we going or not?"
"Right! Course." He bounded into a lift as I looked back at Rose.
"Come on, kid."
"Don't call me kid," she complained. "How old are you anyway?"
"Thirty-four," I grumbled, displeased.
"What?" She breathed out in shock, then caught sight of the lift doors closing. "Ah, hold on! Hold on!"
The doors closed in front of the Doctor, shutting us both out and I groaned in complaint.
"This is why I said to hurry up."
"There's another lift," she snapped, the two of us obviously butting heads even now.
I hate dealing with kids like this. Now, I get to be stuck in an elevator with her. "What floor was it?"
"Ward 36!" The Doctor's echoing shout reached us. "And watch out for—"
The rest of his voice was too quiet for us to hear.
"Watch out for what?" Rose called back, but he was too far up, so she just shrugged and climbed into the next lift with me. "Ward 26, thanks."
The lift started to move, and I frowned a bit. Are we going down? Weird. Maybe it's just because it's not a normal lift? But I would think—My thoughts were abruptly cut off as I was drenched in something alongside Rose, who jumped with a squeal. While startled, I was more annoyed at the sudden shower and blow-dry that soon followed. So, one would think I'd be pleased when we were able to step out. Except the dingy basement we ended up in looked more than sketchy.
A young man with designs marking his face greeted us; his garb resembling a sort of nurse-like outfit.
"The human child is clean," he mused, eyes fixed on Rose before spotting me. "Oh, dear. You're not supposed to be here. Oh, dear."
He scuttled away but paused, before waving us on. Rose and I shared a look until I placed myself in front of her.
"I don't like this. I'll go first." I glanced up at the lift that was no longer lit up. "Not like we can just leave, after all."
She nodded, picking up a piece of scrap metal nearby as a weapon, following behind me. We walked cautiously forward, only to pause as the man in front of us rushed to—what appeared to be—a patch of skin attached to a rack. An underground hide tannery? I questioned, blinking at the patch of skin as Rose seemed to recognize it.
"Wait a minute, that's—"
"Peekaboo!" The skin spoke, confusing me further as Rose put a name to the… face.
"Don't you come anywhere near me, Cassandra."
"Why?" Cassandra questioned, red lips turned down in a pout. "What do you think I'm going to do? Flap you to death?"
"Yeah, but what about Gollum?" Rose asked, gesturing to the man who'd led us in.
"Oh, that's just Chip. He's my pet."
The man smiled. "I worship the mistress."
"Moisturize me. Moisturize me," the skin murmured, getting sprayed with something by Chip. "He's not even a proper lifeform. He's a force-grown clone. I modeled him on my favorite pattern, but he's so faithful. Chip sees to my physical needs." Its eyes shifted to me. "Though I see you have a pet of your own."
I bristled. "I'm hardly a pet. And what's with the strung-up piece of tanning leather?" I questioned Rose. "You know it?"
"She murdered me," Cassandra spat, making me raise a brow.
"That was your fault," Rose argued as Chip piped in
"The brain of my mistress survived and her pretty blue eyes were salvaged from the bin."
"Gross," I muttered, getting ignored.
"What about the skin? I saw it. You got ripped apart," Rose asked as I relaxed a smidge.
Meaning she personally didn't kill her, I hope. That's good. I glanced at Rose as she and Cassandra continued to speak. She's too young to have that burden. I know I was. After what happened, I was lucky my mentor found me—saw something in me. I wouldn't have gotten where I was without him, but… God. Look where I ended up. He'd be pissed.
"You must be joking if you think I'm coming anywhere near you. Let's go, Alan," Rose said, drawing me out of my thoughts as she nodded back towards the lift; which was suspiciously lit up again.
I made to go, glancing over my shoulder in confusion, but was abruptly brought to a halt. I struggled, feeling my breath hitch at the memory of being unable to control my body as I climbed to a roof, as Rose whipped around in shock.
"Chip, activate the psychograft," Cassandra commanded before sighing. "He'll just have to do."
"Cassandra, let him go! What are you doing?" Rose cried out as I fought against the invisible restraints.
"The lady's moving on. It's goodbye trampoline and hello brunette!"
Then, everything went dark.
"Mistress?" Chip questioned, stepping forward as Alan collapsed to the ground with Rose at his side.
"Alan? Alan?" She glared at Chip. "What did she do to him? What's wrong with him?"
Alan shifted then with a groan, standing with Rose's help.
"Alan?"
"Moisturize me," he muttered, surprising Rose as he stopped and looked at himself. "Arms, fingers, hair!" He pulled a hand through his short hair in shock, bounding towards a dirty mirror nearby. "Let me see! Let me see! Oh, my God. What is wrong with my face!"
"Alan, what are you—"
"Look at me. From class to trash," Alan continued to complain, rubbing at the scarring on his face as if that would get rid of it. "Although, the muscles are new. It's like living inside a bodybuilder."
"The mistress is strong." Chip smiled in agreement, drawing Rose's attention.
"Mistress?"
"Absolutement!" Alan exclaimed, rubbing a hand along her jaw. "And if you ignore the scarring, he's not bad on the eyes. Oh, but look." Alan glanced to the brain in the jar beside the old flap of skin.
"Oh, the brain expired," Chip said sadly. "My old mistress is gone."
"But safe and sound in here," Alan—No, Cassandra hummed, tapping on the side of Alan's temple as everything clicked into place for Rose.
"Cassandra? What—Where is Alan? What have you done to him?"
"Oh, he's tucked away," Cassandra responded. "I can just about access the surface memory. He's… Gosh, he's with the Doctor and you. A man. He's the Doctor. The same Doctor with a new face." Alan's brows furrowed as Cassandra skimmed his memories. "That hypocrite! I must get the name of his surgeon. I could do with a little work. Or, a lot of work with this mug. Though, maybe with some stubble, I could pull off the rugged look."
"Cassandra, you—" Rose was cut off as her phone rang, giving her hope as she answered it. "Doctor! Thank God. Cass—"
Alan's hand grabbed the phone, covering the speaker as Cassandra smirked. "Ah, ah, ah. Don't say anything to the Doctor."
"Or what?" Rose snapped back.
Even though she was still on the fence about Alan, she didn't believe that anyone should have to deal with someone like Cassandra in their head.
"Or I'll kill him. Fry his mind and take him over completely."
"You wouldn't. Couldn't."
"I would," Cassandra insisted. "Do you really want to take a chance? How would the Doctor feel if you just let him die?"
Rose grit her teeth, snatching the phone back and hating the way Alan's face twisted into a cocky smirk. "Fine. Give it."
Rose spoke with the Doctor, making sure to hint that something was wrong, but not give anything away to Cassandra as Alan picked at the dirt under his nails. She was surprised to hear that the Face of Bo was around but said that she and Alan—Cassandra—would meet up with him in Ward 26. Upon hanging up, Rose shot Alan a look.
"Happy? What's all this about anyway?"
"The Sisterhood is up to something," Cassandra answered simply. "Do you know that Old Earth saying, 'Never trust a nun'? Never trust a nun and never trust a cat." Alan looked at Chip, holding a hand out. "Perfume?"
Alan took the vial and tucked it into his coat pocket as he walked confidently to the lift.
"Come along, chav."
Rose rolled her eyes and followed as they ascended to Ward 26.
The Doctor grinned when he spotted Alan and Rose, though he hadn't missed the glare Rose was shooting at the man. Did they fight? I know they're having little spats, but they were mostly getting along. I might have to intervene. And intervene he did, bounding over and grabbing Alan's wrist.
"There you are. Come and look at these patients," he said, hoping that Alan would enjoy the sight of multiple alien species since he was new to this whole thing. "Marconi's Disease. Should take years to recover. Two days. I've never seen anything like it. They've invented a cell washing cascade. It's amazing! Their medical science is way advanced. And this one!" He pulled the man to another patient in a white gown. "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 is it such a secret?"
"I can't Adam and Eve it," Alan replied, causing the Doctor some confusion.
"W-What's with the voice?"
And his usual gruff expression has changed. He looked at Rose, who appeared thrilled about something, which confused him more. Just what happened between these two while we were separated?
"Oh, I don't know. Just larking about. New Earth, new me."
Oh? The Doctor smiled as they walked in search of a terminal. "Well, I can talk. New New Doctor."
"Mm, aren't you just—"
Alan suddenly grabbed the Doctor's coat lapels and pulled him forward—slamming their lips together in a heated kiss. I didn't think he would be—The Doctor thought for a brief moment, reacting out of instinct to the kiss before Alan pulled away, out of breath.
"T-Terminal's this way," he murmured huskily, leading the way as the Doctor passed a hand through his hair.
"Yup. Still got it."
Rose smacked his arm, looking upset. "You idiot!" She hissed, storming off as the Doctor winced.
Yeah, definitely have to talk to her… Yet, his eyes latched onto Alan's back, narrowing. Why would he tell me to cut it off with her and then kiss me? Jealousy? But… that doesn't seem right. None of this does. Suspicion filling him, he followed Alan to a terminal and used his sonic on it in search of anything out of place.
"Nope, nothing odd. Surgery, post-op, nano-dentistry. No sign of a shop." He pouted, hoping to get a reaction from Alan. "They should have a shop."
Alan didn't even blink. "No, it's missing something else. When I was downstairs, those Nurse Cat Nuns were talking about Intensive Care. Where is it?"
Not too suspicious, though Rose was down there too. Why didn't she mention anything? He glanced briefly at the target of his thoughts and winced. Right. She's angry at us both.
"You're right. Well done," he commented idly, as Alan watched the terminal with a frown.
"Why would they hide a whole department? It's got to be there somewhere. Search the sub-frame, Doc."
Rose turned at the nickname, but the Doctor was more concerned about the sudden extent of knowledge Alan had on computers. Getting stranger.
"What if the sub-frame's locked?" He tested, drawing Rose in more.
"Try the installation protocol."
"Yeah. Of course. Sorry. Hold on." He caught eyes with Rose, seeing a hopeful questioning look on her face and he nodded.
Yeah, I know something's up. She looked relieved as the Doctor managed to open up a secret package in the wall with his sonic.
"Intensive Care. Certainly looks intensive," he commented and they climbed down a staircase with Alan in the lead.
The Doctor began to notice more things wrong with Alan's demeanor the longer he watched, now that he knew for sure that something was going on. Something that Rose couldn't say outright, which means… He frowned. Someone's watching.
They entered a chamber full of green pods and the Doctor's frown deepened when he opened one to discover a man covered in boils with sickly-looking skin.
"That's disgusting," Alan commented, making the Doctor's grip on the door tighten. "What's wrong with him?"
He didn't answer, apologizing quietly to the dazed man in the pod as he closed the door and moved on to the next one.
"What disease is that?" Rose asked softly, looking upset at the sight of the poor people in front of them.
"All of them. Every single disease in the galaxy. They've been infected with everything."
"What about us?" Alan questioned, keeping his distance from the woman in the pod. "Are we safe?"
"The air's sterile. Just don't touch them," the Doctor murmured, trying to rein in his temper that wanted to flare at the man's words.
It's not him. Calm down. Someone's in control of him and making him say these things. Can't yell at him.
"D-Doc."
"Hm?" The Doctor turned around, but Alan—or whoever was controlling him—acted as though they hadn't spoken.
A quick look at Rose said that she's heard it too. Could Alan be breaking through? Hope filled the Doctor's hearts, but so did dread. Depending on what had been done to him, Alan's fighting back to regain control could either work or potentially cause severe damage. I have to figure out what's going on before it's too late.
"How many patients are there?" Alan questioned then, noticing the number of pods in the chamber seemed to go on forever.
"They're not patients," the Doctor corrected as calmly as he could with the worries and concerns swimming in his mind.
"But they're sick."
"They were born sick. They're meant to be sick. They exist to be sick," he snapped, losing a bit of restraint. "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?" Alan asked. "H-Help."
The Doctor's jaw clenched at the unnoticed plea escaping the man's lips. "Plague carriers. The last to go."
"It's for the greater cause."
The group turned to see a nervous cat nurse standing nearby; the Face of Bo's caretaker that the Doctor had met.
"Novice Hame," The Doctor spat. "When you took your vows, did you agree to this?"
"The Sisterhood has sworn to help," she replied, not really giving her personal opinion on the matter.
"What? By killing?"
"But they're not real people. They're specially grown. They have no proper existence."
"What's the turnover, hmm? Thousand a day? Thousand the next? Thousand the next? How many thousands? For how many years?" He took a step forward threateningly as she shouted—Rose grabbing his arm to hold him back. "How many!"
"Mankind needed us," Novice Hame countered. "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 too slow, so the Sisterhood grew its own flesh. That's all they are. Flesh."
"Flesh with a consciousness."
Rose and Novice Hame looked to Alan, startling him as he raised a brow in question. He broke through for an instant. Is it due to strong emotions?
"These people are alive," the Doctor said, drawing attention back to him.
Can't let whoever's watching know until I get some answers.
"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 challenged, making the Doctor's spine straighten in a show of authority.
"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."
Alan leaned forward, holding up a finger to cut in on the conversation. "Just to confirm, none of the humans in the city actually know about this?"
"We thought it best not," Novice Hame answered, making Rose gasp.
"Y-You can't be serious."
"Hold on," the Doctor interjected, believing himself to have found a culprit. "I can understand the bodies. I can understand your vows. One thing I can't understand. What have you done to Alan?"
Novice Hame looked lost. "I don't know what you mean."
"And I'm being very, very calm," he continued as though she hadn't said anything. "You want to be aware 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 Alan's head, I want it reversed."
"We haven't done anything," Novice Hame repeated as Alan rolled his eyes.
"I'm perfectly fine."
"These people are dying, and Alan would care," the Doctor argued, looking to him. "And you haven't noticed it, but he's slipped through a few times now. Haven't you, Alan?"
"D-Doc…"
Whoever was controlling Alan finally noticed and scowled as he stepped towards the Doctor and fiddled with his tie.
"Oh, all right, clever clogs. Smartypants. Lady-killer."
"What's happened to you?" The Doctor questioned, and Rose stepped forward.
"Doctor, it's Cassandra. She—"
"Cassandra?"
Alan sighed heavily. "I knew something was going on in this hospital, but I needed his body and your mind to figure it out." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a vial. "Wake up and smell the perfume."
The Doctor was sprayed in the face and immediately collapsed as Rose rushed to his side.
"What did you do?"
"You've hurt him," Novice Hame breathed out in an equal amount of shock. "I don't understand. I'll have to fetch Matron."
"You do that," Alan said with a smirk. "Because I want to see her. Now, run along. Sound the alarm!"
Novice Hame rushed off as Chip joined them and Rose stood angrily.
"Stop this! Let Alan go and just let us figure something out!"
"Oh, your drivel is going to drive me mad. Chip?" Alan opened an empty pod nearby. "Throw them both in there for now. We've got business to take care of."
Rose protested as she and the Doctor were shoved into a pod, and the Doctor soon woke to join her.
"Let us out! Let us out!"
Alan smirked, leaning towards the foggy green glass separating them. "Aren't you lucky there was a spare?"
"You've stolen Alan's body," the Doctor growled.
"Over the years, I've thought of a thousand ways to kill you, Doctor. Doc," Alan said, ignoring the Doctor and missing the nickname that had been snuck into the speech. "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 Alan go, Cassandra," the Doctor pleaded, concerned as to the damage that was being done with Alan fighting control.
"I will. As soon as I've found someone younger and less scarred, then junk him with the waste. Now, hushaby. It's showtime."
My head ached terribly as I pushed and shoved against the weight of another mentality smothering me. I didn't like it here, in the back of my head, where I shoved so many memories I wished to forget. All the pain and experiences I'd placed here threatened to consume me, and I might have given in if it weren't for the hope I had that the Doctor would save me. Isn't that what he does? I don't remember much of the episodes I watched with Claire, but he saved the day at the end of it. He can help me too.
I cried out for him constantly, hoping to break through. I had a few times, but it was fleeting, and I was growing weary. That, and every time I managed to get past the other mind, a sharp pain went through my head. I feared I was only causing myself more pain for when—if—I got out of this. But I can't stay here. It'll drive me insane! I mentally screamed as I forced my way out of another memory of gunshots and screams and sirens.
Then, I caught a glimpse. For a split second, I had broken through, was in control of my body. Cat nurses wielding sharp claws, the Doctor and Rose trapped in a pod about to be filled with… with what? Diseases came to mind, not from my own head, but that of the other person in my body. I can't let them get hurt. Not because of me. I reached a hand forward and pulled a lever. I didn't know what it would do, but the other mind did and upon discovering that it would let the Doctor and Rose out, I pulled it. Pain made me gasp, bringing a hand to my forehead as the Doctor rushed over and called my name.
"D-Doc…" Was all I managed to get out before I was forced back into the memory of a gang fight.
One I was in charge of.
For a moment, the Doctor had caught a glimpse of Alan, but after the lever was pulled and the pods were opened, chaos ensued.
"Don't touch them!" He shouted to Rose and Cassandra as the sick patients hobbled out. "Whatever you do, don't touch!"
The group of them ran, dodging the sick as they nearly ran into even more. All of the pods had been opened, unleashing a horde of disease carriers.
"What the hell have you done?" The Doctor demanded, and Alan's eyes widened in fear as Cassandra responded frantically
"It wasn't me! Alan pulled the lever!"
But why would he—The Doctor shook his head, herding them along.
"One touch and you get every disease in the world, and I want that body safe, Cassandra," he snapped, spotting a ladder. "We've got to go down."
"But there's thousands of them!"
The Doctor pushed Cassandra forward. "Run!"
An alarm went off as they scrambled down, and Cassandra ran toward a lift.
"No, the lifts have closed down," the Doctor explained. "That's the quarantine. Nothing's moving."
"This way!" Cassandra waved them on, leading them to where Cassandra had been staying.
Poor Chip ended up cut off from them, but there was nothing anyone could do without risking their own safety. Once in the basement though, Cassandra discovered they were trapped, which gave the Doctor a chance to finally help Alan.
"What am I going to do?" Cassandra worried, and the Doctor stepped forward with a glare—having spotted the device used to place her in Alan's body.
"Well, for starters, you're going to leave that body. That psychograph is banned on every civilized planet. You're compressing Alan to death!"
"But I've got nowhere to go," Cassandra begged. "My original skin's dead."
"Not my problem. You can float as atoms in the air. Now, get out. Give him back to me."
Cassandra frowned. "You asked for it."
He breathed out and a cloud escaped him, floating into the Doctor as Alan collapsed.
"Alan!" Rose called out in relief as the man fisted his hands and panted heavily on his knees. "Alan?"
Alan clenched his eyes shut for a moment before glancing up at Rose with a hint of a smile. "H-Hey."
"Oh, thank God. Where's Cassandra?" She asked, looking around before the Doctor spoke.
"Goodness me, I'm a man again. A handsome one this time."
Alan grit his teeth in anger as Rose paled in understanding. Cassandra was in the Doctor now.
"Yum, so many parts and hardly used," she hummed, feeling up the Doctor's body. "Oh! Oh, two hearts! Oh, baby, I'm beating out a samba!"
"Two what?" Alan questioned as Rose stood up furiously.
"Get out of him."
"Ooh, he's slim and a little bit foxy," Cassandra hummed, smirking at Alan. "You've thought so too. I've been inside your head. You've been looking. You like it but are so determined to hide it. That it's ridiculous."
Alan's cheeks flamed, but before he could argue, a pack of sick patients had finally broken through the door.
"What do we do?" Cassandra wailed in a panic, grabbing Alan's sleeve. "What would he do? The Doctor, what the hell would he do?"
"Ladder," Rose pointed out, making Cassandra rush towards it. "We've got to get up."
"Out of the way, blondie!" Cassandra shoved, scrambling up the rungs of the ladder as Rose went up next and Alan followed with a cringe—still dealing with a headache.
"If you get out of the Doctor's body, he can think of something," Rose pressured Cassandra as they climbed.
"Yap, yap, yap. God, I would hate to be in your head. It's probably hormone city in there."
"Look, we won't make it, if—" Alan was cut off as a clawed paw grabbed his ankle. "The hell? Let go, cat!"
The Matron had pulled him to a halt with a hiss. "All our good work. All that healing. The good name of the Sisterhood. You have destroyed everything."
"Go and play with a ball of string." Cassandra rolled her eyes.
"Everywhere, disease. This is the human world. Sickness!"
"You're the ones who got involved," Alan complained, kicking at the cat. "Just leave the people to their own devices if it bothers you that much."
The Matron didn't get a chance to respond as a patient grabbed her ankle and she fell to her death with a cry.
"Move!" Alan shouted, getting Cassandra to return to climbing as he did the same—ignoring the blood slipping down his ankle from the Matron's claws. This is why I'm a dog person, dammit!
"Now, what do we do?" Cassandra questioned at the top of the ladder where a locked door waited.
"Use the sonic screwdriver."
"You mean this thing?" Cassandra held it up like it was diseased as Alan raised a brow—having not known what it was called.
"Yes, I mean that thing," Rose said in exasperation.
"Well, I don't know how. That Doctor's hidden away all his thoughts."
Alan furrowed his brows in confusion, unnoticed as Rose huffed.
"Cassandra, go into me. The Doctor can open it. Do it!"
"Hold on tight."
The Doctor let out a gasp as the Cassandra cloud drifted into Rose.
"Oh, chavtastic," Rose grumbled, looking up at the Doctor in annoyance. "Open it!"
"Not until you get out of her," he snapped, having easily figured out where Cassandra had drifted to.
"We need the Doctor!"
"I order you to leave her!"
Rose sighed, and the cloud went back into him.
"No matter how difficult the situation, there is no need to shout," Cassandra complained as Rose snapped at her from below.
"Cassandra, get out of him!"
"But I can't go into either of you; he simply refuses. He's so rude."
Alan snorted at that, earning a dark look from Rose.
"I don't care. Just do something!"
Cassandra's eyes shifted to the patients before and she groaned. "Oh, I am so going to regret this."
With a sigh, Cassandra scowled from within the closest patent.
"Oh, sweet lord. I look disgusting."
The actual Doctor opened the door above the group and herded everyone through, smiling at Alan. "Nice to have you back."
Before the first patient could get through, the Doctor went to close the door. Determined, Cassandra pushed herself back into Alan. Furious, the Doctor whipped around to the possessed man.
"That was your last warning, Cassandra!"
Cassandra though was pale. "Inside her head. They're so alone. They keep reaching out, just to hold us. All their lives and they've never been touched."
Softened by Cassandra's words, the Doctor lost some of his edge and held a hand out to help her from off the floor. Once up and moving again, they hurried back up to Ward 26, where they were immediately accosted by Clovis—the secretary of the Duke resting nearby.
"We're safe! We're safe!" The Doctor repeated frantically to avoid being clobbered by a chair. "We're clean! Look, look!"
"Show me your skin," she demanded, and they waved their hands.
"Look, clean. Look, if we'd been touched, we'd be dead. So, how is it going up here? What's the status?"
Relaxing, they moved further into the room as Clovis replied.
"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. If I can trip a signal over to New New York they can send a private executive squad."
The Doctor frowned. "You can't do that. If they forced entry, they'd break quarantine."
Clovis didn't care. "I'm not dying in here."
"We can't let a single particle of disease get out. There's ten million people in that city. They'd all be at risk. Now turn that off!" The Doctor commanded, but she refused.
"Not if it gets me out."
"All right, fine. So, I have to stop you lot as well. Suits me. Rose, Cassandra, Novice Hame, everyone! Excuse me, Your Grace." The Doctor slipped by the Duke and grabbed a bag of solutions. "Get me intravenous solutions for every single disease. Move it!"
It was getting worse. I couldn't tell what was real or fake anymore. Gunshots echoed in my ears. Shouts from Cassandra, from the Doctor ringing in my mind, as I fought back gang members, prisoners, foster parents, and police. It hurt. Physically, mentally. I wouldn't last much longer like this, I knew. I was beginning to crack, to lose hope that the Doctor would and could help me.
"Relax, Alan. He will help you. You shouldn't give in so easily."
The deep voice startled me, making me swivel, gun raised in search of the source. I was trapped in another botched job from my past, and my nerves were set on edge as it was without the mystery voice.
"You're still so young, so troubled. Put more trust in him, in the Doctor. You may have just met, but he will grow to care for you and you, him. So, climb out of this darkness you are so eager to drown yourself in. Fight, Alan. Fight!"
I sucked in a breath, falling into a pair of arms as a cheerful voice spoke in my ear.
"Oh, you all right?"
I pushed myself away fearfully, expecting the pain of a knife in my gut. I stumbled back though, tumbling and nearly falling if my wrist hadn't been grabbed.
"Whoa! You okay?"
My mind settled enough to focus on the person keeping me upright, and I finally stopped struggling.
"D-Doc?"
"Hello," the Doctor smiled, having not noticed the turmoil I'd stepped out of. "Welcome back."
I looked around in concern, fearing another gunshot out of nowhere or a gang rival waiting to ambush me. Neither of those things happened and before I could completely settle into being safe, a loud complaint startled me.
"Oh, sweet lord. I'm a walking doodle!"
I had flinched, automatically reaching behind my back for my pistol, before that voice came back.
"Relax. You're safe. Relax."
My tight shoulders eased, and my fingers slipped off the metal of my gun as my heartbeat slowed. I had a face now to match the voice. I wasn't sure how I knew, but my eyes locked onto the large, floating head in a nearby glass container. I was surprised at how little I was bothered by the head in a jar, but he had helped calm me down. I was indebted to him. Hated it, but he had my respect. Big head or not.
The Doctor suddenly shifted, drawing my eyes away from the head and towards the tattooed man who had exclaimed about doodles earlier.
"Are you all right?" He asked and the man, Chip, nodded slowly as he got back up on his feet.
"I'm fine. I'm dying, but that's fine."
"I can take you to the city," the Doctor offered as my brows furrowed.
What? I don't understand. Just how much did I miss?
"No, you won't. Everything's new on this planet. There's no place for Chip and me anymore. You're right, Doctor. It's time to die and that's good."
I brought a hand to my aching head, more confused than ever and dealing with the mother of all headaches. A hand touched my shoulder and I looked up, having to blink away a moment of vertigo as the Doctor's face wobbled in my vision.
"You okay, Alan?"
I wanted to say "yes" but felt I couldn't. "I think I need to lay down for a bit. My head's killing me."
He frowned, doing something with his sonic before I batted it away.
"Could you not?"
He ignored me, looking at the device with a hum. "Right. Might have to give your head a scan later to see if she did any damage, but you probably should have a lie-down."
"That's what I was trying to—"
He pushed me towards the head in a jar and had me sit down, leaning me up against it. "Stay here. I'll bring the Tardis over, so we can deal with you and Cassandra."
"Who?"
He looked past me. "Could you keep an eye on him, Face of Boe?"
"Of course."
"Oi. I don't need 'watching,'" I grumbled a complaint and the Doctor grinned, ruffling my hair.
"Course you don't."
I growled at him, but he bounded off before I could lash out, leaving me with the Face of Boe chuckling in my mind.
"The idiot," I snapped, crossing my arms over my chest and leaning further into the tank.
"You'll appreciate his humor in time, Alan."
"A lot of time," I murmured, settling in as the Face of Boe went quiet.
Or, almost quiet. Soft singing echoed in my mind; songs that even I knew from my universe. I guess there are some similarities.
The Doctor drummed his fingers on the console, looking over the scans he'd taken of Alan's mind while he was asleep. Almost immediately upon returning to Ward 26, he'd been surprised by the man sleeping so deeply while the Face of Boe hummed softly. It was odd how comfortable Alan had gotten in a matter of moments, whereas the Doctor felt—as a homeless person living in the alleyways of London—he wouldn't be able to feel safe enough to sleep so soundly. It took more than a few shakes to wake him as well, making the Doctor more concerned about his mental health after the Cassandra fiasco.
He had then used the opportunity given to him to take scans of Alan's mind and psyche for possible damage as he slept in a spare room. The Tardis had either not finished his room, or did not want to reveal it when he was too dazed to appreciate it. The drumming of his fingers continued though the longer he looked at the scans. This can't be right, he thought, changing the image to another. No, no, no. This can't be right. That sort of brainwave… in a human? He frowned at the ceiling.
"You're playing a trick on me, right? Trying to get me to like him more or something?"
The Tardis grumbled in complaint at his accusation and he waved a hand at the monitor.
"There's no way this is accurate! For his mind to look like this, he would have to have been exposed to deadly amounts of radiation! To be a highly sentient, telepathic alien species! Mental capabilities like this in a human are impossible! It would be smothering even without Cassandra shoving her way in there!"
The ship rang a chime and let out a groan, making his frown deepen.
"But it can't be."
She chimed again.
"He can't be!"
The Tardis huffed at his denial, but not even the Doctor could completely argue against the evidence of the scan in front of him.
"All right. All right." He gave in finally with a heavy sigh. "Let's say this is accurate. Is there any damage from within the last twenty-four hours?"
Another look at the screen made him wince. At least three areas were highlighted to show the damage done and it wasn't great.
"That's a lot of swelling," the Doctor murmured, turning the monitor off and heading towards the med bay, searching through bottles in a drawer. "He'll be experiencing migraines, possible dizziness, nausea. It'll be like the morning after six hypervodkas." He paused, pocketing a bottle of blue pills before looking up as the Tardis let out a whine. "His mind will be left open to possible influences, left exposed as it tries to refill the space lost. And with what these scans said…"
He looked back at the door with a frown, possible scenarios flipping through his mind. What he came up with, only made his concerns worsen.
"He'll be reliving past memories. He'll be stuck swimming through everything in his head all in one rush of information. He's unstable. He's—"
"You're punishing yourself."
The Doctor's eyes widened. "He's unstable." He bolted out the door, quickly running to where Alan had fallen asleep. "Unstable and armed!"
He skidded around and bolted to the first door that appeared, bursting through and freezing in caution. The room was trashed—sheets thrown off the bed, a broken lamp on the ground, end tables flipped—and in the center of it all stood a panting, wild-eyed Alan.
"Alan?" The Doctor called out, moving towards him slowly to not startle the man, but hoping to get close enough to get the gun from his trembling grip.
After the third step, Alan whipped around and raised the weapon, freezing the Doctor in place.
"Hands up! Put your hands up!"
The Doctor did as he said with a wince. I was right. He was a cop. I have to snap him out of it, but I need physical contact. I can't do that with the gun. I need to get closer.
"Alan, listen to me. Your mind's in a panic. You can't tell what's real and what's not. Let me help you," the Doctor said, adding what little hypnotism he could into his voice as he took a few steps forward.
"No… No, you stay back, Mike! I told you! I ain't workin' for you no more! You can't make me!"
The Doctor's brows furrowed, seeing a shift in Alan's posture and hearing the change in his tone and vernacular. This is different. A different memory from a second ago. He's not a cop, but… someone else. Just how bad is this? How quickly is he passing through memories?
"Alan, listen." The Doctor tried again, taking another step.
I'm almost within reach.
"I'm not going to hurt you. I just want to talk, to help you through this. But you've got to put the gun down."
"No. No, I won't," Alan refused, looking scared now as his hands trembled. "Y-You'll hurt us if I do. I-I don't want you to hurt us anymore."
Another memory. That's at least three since I've walked in. This is worse than I thought, and I've only got one chance to restrain him. He would only need one large step to close the gap, but it put him well within range of getting shot and he had only just regenerated. Was this worth risking another?
The lights suddenly went out and the Doctor mentally thanked the Tardis as he used that chance to dash forward. A gunshot went off, whizzing past his shoulder before he hit Alan's wrist and disarmed him. Alan was quick though, hitting the Doctor solidly in the stomach as he dodged a grab. This is going to be tricky.
Using what martial arts he knew, the Doctor fought and wrestled Alan to the ground. It wasn't easy. Even with how malnourished Alan was, the man knew what he was doing. The fight lasted longer than it should before the Doctor landed a good hit to Alan's jaw—just enough to disorientate him and place his fingers to Alan's temples. Relax. Come on, Alan. Relax and let me in. I don't want to force this and make things worse. Alan soon stopped struggling and the Doctor sighed in relief as the lights flicked back on and he finally got a hold of what he needed.
It'll be temporary, but we can't have him this overwhelmed while his mind tries to piece itself back together. And unless he gives me permission to go through his memories, I can't speed up the process. The most I can do is put up a barrier to separate consciousness and subconscious memories. Suddenly, the Doctor was pushed, severing the connection he had with Alan—thankfully after he had placed the barrier. Alan though, hovered over him with a fist pulled back and breathing heavily.
"D-Doc?" He questioned, slowly lowering his hand and leaning back off the Doctor's upper half to look at the disaster around them. "What… What happened?"
"Ah, well… you did," the Doctor replied awkwardly. "You see, when Cassandra took you over, she shoved your mind out of place. Now, it's trying to put everything back."
"But the room…"
"Yes, well, there was some, uh… complications," he muttered, drawing Alan's attention back to him rather quickly.
"What kind of complications?" Alan scowled.
"Well, could we possibly discuss this when I'm not pinned under you?"
Alan, who had remembered Cassandra using his body to kiss the Doctor, turned beet red and scrambled up quickly—only to grimace and hold his head.
"Jesus. It's like I got hit by a truck."
"I have something for your headache," the Doctor said, handing him the pills he had grabbed from the med bay earlier. "Take two every six to eight hours or so. That should help. No more than eight a day."
Alan took them skeptically but took two pills dry before turning back to the Doctor. "So, what happened?"
The Doctor cleared his throat, thinking of the best way to explain. "You… have special mental capabilities."
"What?"
"What I mean is, you're not just some run-of-the-mill human. You have a very strong mind. One that allows you to do things like break past Cassandra's mind control on you."
"So, I'm some mutated thing."
"No! Absolutely not. You're just… different, is all."
Alan frowned but didn't bother arguing over that issue. "And because I'm… different, something went wrong after Cassandra."
The Doctor bobbed his head. "Exactly. With your unique mind trying to put itself back in its proper place, it forced you to be semi-conscious as it moved things around. Basically, you were being pushed and pulled into your memories as your brain placed things back where they should be."
Alan looked pale. "And by semi-conscious, you mean…"
"Sleepwalking. Or, well, sleep fighting in your case."
Alan went quiet, avoiding eye contact. Seeing this, the Doctor could tell that the man was deeply disturbed by what he was being told, and tried to help.
"Alan, this wasn't your fault. You can't hold yourself responsible for this. It was out of your control."
"I know that," Alan snapped, softening his tone as he let out a sigh. "Doesn't mean I have to like it."
Seeing that a distraction was needed for the moment, the Doctor offered him a smile.
"Come on. If you're feeling up to it, we can do another trip. How about one in the past?"
Alan hesitated but seemed willing for something to take his mind off this new development. "Yeah. Yeah, okay."
They weren't done talking about his new capabilities but it could wait for now. Alan wasn't quite ready to accept things but the Doctor would be there when he was. Until then, distractions were necessary, and the Doctor was very good at those.
