A/N: Hello! Anyone else super excited for the New Year's special, the trailer looks amazing! Anyways, final chapter of this episode, here we go!
He took deep gasping breaths as he was lifted back into consciousness.
He glanced to his right. Martha lay there, slumped on the vinyl flooring. She had saved his life, but there wasn't much he could do for her, or the thousand-odd other people. He just had hope. He quite liked hope. Hoping the Judoon would reverse the H2O scoop in time. Judoon. Plasmavore. MRI scanner. Overloading. He needed to-
Ryan. His brilliant, brave, clever Ryan. The man he would never deserve. He had pulled the plug out the MRI scanner, which was still loosely grasped in his hand, from where he had collapsed, unconscious.
The Doctor slowly crawled over to him, taking rasping breaths with each shuffle. He reached out to cup his cheek, caressing the bone.
"You saved the world today," he whispered, continuing to stroke him.
Impulsively, he brought his hand up to his forehead, brushing his fringe out of the way, and pressed a delicate kiss there.
As he drew back, he couldn't help but think of the Game Station. How he had kissed Ryan's forehead before sending him away to safety, only for him to come back, and then kissing the time vortex out of him (the one detail he had always omitted) and then dying and regenerating. Similar events, just in a different order and under different circumstances.
He knew what could have happened. With the Plasmavore. What did happen. He could keep telling himself that was a genetic transfer, but it was also a dying man's last request. Except the whole dying thing wasn't a certainty, so the metaphor broke down there.
Kissing Ryan had been fantastic. He wanted to do it again. He wanted more, but they couldn't. Even if he ignored everything the Time Lords would have thought.
They always left him in the end, even the ones who had promised him forever. Ryan would live longer than the rest of his companions, but he wasn't invincible, nor could he regenerate. He would still die, one day. Assuming he hadn't left by then. He still hated himself - he had many reasons for hating himself - but specifically for tying Ryan down to him. He didn't have anyone left. Not really. Other than him. A selfish part of him didn't want Ryan to ever leave him. He had carried him out of the darkness and into the light. A sun illuminating a moon, and that moon reflecting beaming light back to the sun. That beaming light. That happiness and pure joy.
Metaphors aside (blimey, he was certainly having a thing for metaphors today), this could all be in vain. He didn't even know if Ryan lo- felt the same way as he did. Friends. He could cope with that. Friends who were cosier than most. But still. Friends.
He caught a subtle movement out of the corner of his eye. Rain. Rain going up. Raining going up, on the Moon. He chuckled to himself. Well, it had to be to himself, there wasn't anyone conscious to hear him. Well, not for another 384,400 km. Approximately. Even then, they wouldn't be able to hear him, as a) sound's longitudinal waves couldn't travel through the vacuum of space, and two, he wasn't loud enough anyway.
He clumsily manoeuvred himself into a low squat position ('arse to grass', as he had once heard some powerlifters say) and scooped Ryan up, one arm under his upper back, the other under his knees.
As he carried him out of the room, he spared once last glance at Martha. She had been good, maybe Ryan would be okay with inviting her along.
Staggering slowly down the corridor, he spotted a linen cupboard. Perfect. They needed somewhere private, tucked away, where Ryan could recover before they snuck out. He didn't want them to get whisked away by paramedics and taken to another hospital. No thanks, he'd had enough of hospitals, and he would be quite happy to not visit any for at least a few decades.
He nudged the door open with his hip, the smell of detergent, cotton and disinfectant assaulting his olfactory receptors. He carefully made his way in and settled Ryan down on the small empty space on the floor. He rummaged around in his jacket for his long trench coat. Once he found it, he folded it up and tilted Ryan's head up, and slid the coat underneath.
The Doctor smiled softly and sighed, then sat down properly, cross-legged. He would wait.
Lying on his back. The Doctor's face peering down at him, concerned. This seemed to be happening to him a lot. One more time and it would be a pattern, rather than a coincidence.
"Wha -" Ryan was cut off by his own sudden coughing fit, jerking him upright. The Doctor steadied him, and rubbed a hand over his back.
"How are you feeling?"
Ryan paused, pushing through clouded thoughts to process what the Doctor had asked. "Dunno. Tired, definitely. My chest aches, and my brain feels fuzzy."
"That's the oxygen deprivation. You'll be fine, don't worry, but it'll take a couple of hours for your symptoms to completely subside," the Doctor reassured him.
Ryan hummed, looking around the small room they were in. Tall shelves filled with bedding and towels lined the walls and stretched from floor to ceiling.
"Why're we in a linen cupboard?"
"Thought it would be easier for us to make an escape like this, rather than out in the open. I wasn't sure how long you'd be unconscious for, and having other people check over us would greatly hinder our exit."
"...Right."
Ryan's head was swimming, memories returning to him. Pulling out the plug, Martha resuscitating the Doctor, the Judoon declaring the Doctor dead, finding the Doctor slumped on the ground, unnaturally still. The Doctor kissing him. Actually, forget that, that was snogging, not kissing. He'd very much like the Doctor to do that again, but definitely under different circumstances. But the Doctor wouldn't be able to do that if he was dead.
"You're alive?"
The Doctor frowned. "Erm, yes? Or at least I was the last time I checked."
"You bloody idiot," Ryan muttered under his breath.
"What?"
Ryan shifted in his cross-legged position, to look directly at the Doctor and glare at him.
The Doctor swallowed and dropped his hand from Ryan's back.
Ryan took a deep, calming breath. He was angry with the Doctor, there was no denying that, but a shouting match wouldn't resolve anything.
"Next time, please don't do any of this self-sacrificing bullshit. The Judoon literally fucking said you were dead. You're always going on about that superior Time Lord brain of yours-" Ryan stopped himself before he started yelling. He inhaled deeply before quietly continuing. "Please just think of a plan that doesn't involve you dying in any part of it. Even if you regenerate..."
The Doctor looked down at the ground, unable to meet Ryan's eyes. His hand inched towards Ryan's before quickly retracting back. Ryan noticed this and grasped it firmly. Holding hands was the first thing they had done together, even coming before "run". And they weren't going to stop now. Hopefully not ever.
The Doctor looked up again, brown eyes wide. "I'm sorry."
Ryan shook his head. "No, that's not good enough. What's the rest of the universe gonna do - what am I gonna do - if you let yourself die like that? At least let me in on your plans," he pleaded.
"I'll try my best," the Doctor said, his voice sincere. "Promise."
Ryan rubbed his thumb over the Doctor's and smiled. "Thank you. Honestly, it means a lot." He paused for a minute. "We going back to the TARDIS, then?"
The Doctor hummed an affirmative and got to his feet, helping Ryan up with him, then stuffing his coat back into his jacket. Ryan moved to walk out the linen cupboard, but the Doctor was holding back.
"What?"
The Doctor bashfully tugged on his ear. "What about our post-saving-the-world hug?"
Ryan held his arms out. "Come on, then."
The Doctor closed the small gap between them and lifted Ryan up into a hug, arms around his waist. Ryan's arms fell around his neck, one hand finding its way to the back of his head, fingers sifting through thick, chocolate brown hair.
The Doctor set him down after a couple of moments and held him infinitesimally tighter, nuzzling his cheek against Ryan's.
"You good to walk back?" he mumbled into Ryan's neck.
Despite the day's prior events, Ryan stiffened at the sensation of the Doctor's lips brushing against his bare skin. "Yeah," he whispered. "What about you? No shoes for a couple of miles of tarmac and concrete."
"Superior Time Lord physiology."
Ryan laughed softly. "Should've known you'd say that."
After giving Ryan a once over in the TARDIS infirmary, the Doctor had suggested that he take a nap, and Ryan had done just that, after showering and washing off the sweat from running through the hospital.
After a couple of hours of sleep, he rolled out of bed and got dressed into fresh clothes, before wandering off to find the Doctor.
He found him in the kitchen disassembling the toaster.
"I see you've got a new sonic," Ryan remarked. "And you're back in your brown suit. Couldn't you just put on those shoes with your blue suit?"
The Doctor whipped around and nearly dropped his brand-new sonic screwdriver in horror.
"Are you suggesting that I wear blue with cream trainers!?" he exclaimed, his voice a higher pitch than usual. "I would never commit such a crime against fashion!"
Ryan snorted. Most people would never wear trainers with a suit, but this version of the Doctor was confident in his clothing choices and somehow managed to pull it off. He supposed he'd gotten lucky with both this Doctor and his previous Northern self, as he had once spotted a hideous multi-coloured coat when he was in the TARDIS wardrobe, so Ryan had his reservations.
"If you say so."
The Doctor grinned. "I know so!" He enthusiastically showed Ryan his new sonic screwdriver, practically shoving it in his face.
"What do you think of my new sonic?"
Ryan squinted at it. "It looks the same as your old one..." he said slowly.
"That's because it is," the Doctor responded, matter-of-factly.
"If it's exactly the same and you know it all works, then why's the toaster in pieces?"
"Ah, well, yes, the um, the toaster, it could be far more efficient, by two factors of ten in fact, if I change the heating element and swap out the capacitors for-"
Ryan cut off his nervous babble. "Bollocks."
"Er, no Ryan, that would be quite painful."
Ryan chuckled and swatted the Doctor's arm. "Shut up, you know what I meant. Could we at least keep this one in definite working condition so I can have my toast in the morning; there must be some others in storage if you absolutely have to "improve" it."
"Suppose we could, although I've got a much better idea for taking my new sonic for a whirl."
Ryan cocked his head. "Oh yeah? What's that?"
"How do you feel about taking Martha Jones with us for a quick trip?"
"Yeah, that's a great idea, though not like that."
"What you mean 'not like that'?" the Doctor spluttered. "She was very good, calm in a crisis, eager to learn, saved my life -"
Placing a hand on his chest, Ryan wordlessly cut him off. "I meant that it's unfair to just offer her one trip. That's not what you said to me, in that back alley. I'm sure she'll love it, and she'll want to stay."
His hand trailed down the Doctor's front as he spoke, before coming to a rest on the granite countertop between them.
The Doctor cleared his throat. "You're right, sorry, wasn't really thinking."
"Thought that was one of your favourite pastimes."
"And you say I'm rude…"
"You sure we're in the right place?" Ryan asked, looking around the grimy alley in which the Doctor had landed the TARDIS.
"Yep. Positive," the Doctor replied, holding his hand out for Ryan to take.
Ryan took it, threading their fingers together. "How did you even know where this party was gonna be, anyway?"
The Doctor tapped his nose. "I have my methods."
As they approached the street, they could hear indistinct shouting, and as they got closer, it became clear that the shouting was in fact arguing. They rounded a corner, and watched as the different members of Martha's family stormed off in various directions, leaving Martha alone, with the faint music from a club punctuating the newfound silence.
Martha soon spotted them peering around the corner, and gave them a look of confusion. Ryan shot back a friendly smile. He felt the Doctor tugging back on his hand.
"C'mon," the Doctor mumbled. "She'll follow." He led them back towards the TARDIS, and soon enough they could hear the distinct click of high heels on cobbles. Just as they settled back against the TARDIS's doors, Martha appeared from around the bend, looking bemused.
"I went to the Moon today."
"Bit more peaceful than down here," the Doctor snarked. Ryan rolled his eyes, not bothering to call the Doctor out on his rudeness.
"You never even told me who you are, either of you," Martha said, as she cautiously approached.
"I'm Ryan Tyler, born and raised in Peckham. And he's, well…" Ryan trailed off. It was best that the Doctor explain who he was.
"I'm the Doctor."
Oh, so he was going for enigmatic, or intentionally vague; however you wanted to look at it.
Martha persisted. "But what sort of species? It's not every day I get to ask that."
"I'm a Time Lord."
"Right. Not pompous at all, then." Ryan smirked.
The Doctor waved his finger between himself and Ryan. "We just thought, since you saved my life," he began, reaching into his jacket for his sonic, tossing it once in hand. "And I've got a brand-new sonic screwdriver which needs road-testing, you might want to come with us."
"Please, our toaster is at stake," Ryan joked.
Martha raised an eyebrow at Ryan's comment. "What, into space?"
"Well…"
"But I can't, I've got exams. I've got things to do, I've got to go into town first thing and pay the rent, I've got my family going mad – "
"We travel in time too," Ryan interrupted. "He forgot to tell me that, the first time."
"Get out of here."
"We can," the Doctor challenged.
"Come on now, that is going too far."
"We'll prove it." And with that, they slipped back into the TARDIS.
"Right, next stop: Chancellor Street, this morning," the Doctor announced as he sprinted up the ramp, quickly programming their destination into the TARDIS, then flipping the dematerialisation lever.
"Do you see her?" Ryan asked. They were in the right place and at the right time (according to the Doctor), but there was no sign of Martha. Yet.
"Hang on," the Doctor said, craning his neck as he scanned the crowd. "Found her!"
Ryan followed the Doctor as he confidently walked up to Martha, blocking her path. "Like so," the Doctor said, then he slipped his tie off. "See?" he said, holding his tie up.
"You'll understand later," Ryan added, before they strode away.
They rematerialised in the same alleyway, barely a second after they had left. The Doctor stepped out first, still clutching his tie in his hand.
"You understand now?" Ryan asked, grinning, as the Doctor retied his tie.
"But, that was this morning, but…" Martha replied, incredulously. "Did you? Oh my god! You can travel in time!" she exclaimed. "But, hold on, if you could see me this morning, why didn't you tell me not to go into work?"
"Crossing into established events is strictly forbidden. Except for cheap tricks," the Doctor said.
"And even then," Ryan added. "We basically had to follow a script."
Martha frowned. "How do you mean?"
"This morning, when we first met in the hospital, you told us where you saw us and what we did, so we had to do exactly that, just now. Otherwise time probably would have gone, I dunno, weird," Ryan explained, gesturing vaguely.
Martha slowly nodded. "And that's your spaceship?"
"It's called the TARDIS," the Doctor simply stated, as Martha walked up to the TARDIS to touch the door frame. "Time And Relative Dimension In Space."
"Your spaceship's made of wood. And there's not much room, might be a bit too cosy with all three of us."
Ryan and the Doctor gave each other knowing looks. "You should take a look inside," Ryan suggested, sidestepping out the way, as the Doctor nudged the door open.
Martha walked in, with Ryan and the Doctor following after, both keen to watch her reaction. Martha's jaw dropped. "No, no, no…" she said, before backing out.
"But it's just a box," they heard her say from outside. "But it's huge! How does it do that?"
Ryan glanced at the Doctor and saw him smiling, obviously enjoying the moment.
"It's wood!" Martha continued, rapping the TARDIS with her knuckles. "It's like a box with that room just crammed in!" She then walked back inside, stopping on the ramp. "It's bigger on the inside!" she exclaimed, with the Doctor mouthing along with her.
"Is it? I hadn't noticed," the Doctor said sarcastically, slamming the door shut and throwing his coat onto its usual coral strut as he sauntered up the ramp, towards the console. "Right then, let's get going."
Ryan followed him and settled down onto the jump seat. Martha slowly circled the console.
"But, is there a crew?" she asked. "Like, a navigator and stuff, where is everyone?"
"Just us," the Doctor answered, busy with the controls.
"Sometimes we have friends travelling with us, though," Ryan added.
The Doctor wandered over to the other side of the console. "Right then. Close down the gravitic anomalyser, fire up the helmic regulator," he commentated. "And finally… the handbrake," he said, flipping it. The Doctor moved in front of the jump seat, gripping the dematerialisation lever. "Ready?"
"Yep," Ryan grinned, bracing himself.
"No!" Martha said, sounding slightly anxious.
"Off we go." The Doctor pulled the lever down, and was immediately thrown back onto the jump seat, narrowly avoiding landing in Ryan's lap.
"Blimey, it's a bit bumpy!" Martha yelled over the rattle of the TARDIS, as she clung to the console.
"You're gonna have to get used to it!" Ryan hollered back.
"Welcome aboard, Miss Jones," the Doctor shouted from the jump seat.
"It's my pleasure, Mr Smith, Mr Tyler!"
A/N: Thank you so much for reading! The Shakespeare Code starts next week.
