A/N: Final part of Gridlock. There's a tiny (accidental) sort of parallel to a scene in Journey's End this chapter - see if you can spot it! Enjoy!
Simply put, Ryan was bored. And worried, but mostly bored.
He had engaged in some conversation with Valerie and Brannigan, with them asking where they were from, who Martha was, what the Doctor was to him.
The first question had been simple enough. Ryan followed the Doctor's usual protocol of being vague enough to not reveal the full truth, but thorough enough to erase any mistrust. Not that he didn't trust Brannigan and Valerie, and more that he didn't know where their society currently stood with time travel, whether it was ubiquitous technology or an overused sci-fi trope. He told them they were off-worlders, who liked to travel around to all sorts of places, throwing themselves in everywhere they landed, and always helping those who needed it.
The second question was a little trickier to answer. Again, he couldn't say too much without mentioning time travel, but he really didn't know much about Martha at all. "We only started travelling with her a few days ago," he'd said. "I hardly know anything about her…" He then vowed to have a proper chat with Martha once the Doctor got her back. Human to human.
The final question… well. Valerie had given him a knowing little smile when she had asked, which had said it all, really.
"How long have you known each other?" she'd asked.
"Just over two years," he'd replied, though it felt it had been much longer since that life-changing moment in Henriks' basement.
"He seems nice."
"Yeah… suppose he is, yeah." Truthfully, the Doctor was a lot more than nice, but Ryan wasn't about to discuss their weird, undefined relationship with a couple of near strangers, let alone his possibly unrequited love for the man.
He'd asked his own questions in return and learnt a little of their backstories. They were childhood sweethearts, having first met at their middle school in New Queens. They had lived fairly ordinary lives (or at least from Ryan's somewhat antiquated experiences), and then had headed onto the motorway, just like everyone else.
Having reached the limit of polite small talk, the conversation had trailed off into nothingness. Ryan had ended up sat on the floor of the small car, hugging the Doctor's neatly folded coat to himself.
His thoughts had then turned to the Doctor. He'd been acting weird, weirder than his usual weird. Something was bothering him, and if Ryan were to hazard a guess, he'd have said it was more than just the reminder of Gallifrey, or that Martha had been kidnapped, or whatever was wrong in New New York. What it actually was though, Ryan didn't have a clue.
But it was enough for him to worry about the Doctor, enough for him to be unable to concentrate on reading the copy of Shakespeare's Twelfth Night he knew the Doctor kept in his coat.
But that had been over a quarter of an hour ago. His anxiety hadn't subsided, and his boredom had crept in.
But all of a sudden, there was a bang on the roof, and the grind of metal being cut as sparks flew from the ceiling. Ryan jumped to his feet as Brannigan and Valerie swivelled around in their chairs.
"Just what we need – pirates!" Brannigan commented sarcastically.
"I'm calling the police!" Valerie yelled.
A sheet of metal dropped from the ceiling and a Catkind leaned into the car upside down. She was dressed in grey robes, much like the garb worn by the nuns in the hospital. Though perhaps more concerningly, she was pointing a gun straight into Ryan's face.
"The Doctor – where is he?" she hissed.
Ryan slowly raised his hands. "Who the hell are you? And what do you want with the Doctor?"
The Catkind landed gracefully in the car. "I met him just once, many years ago. And I need his help."
Ryan furrowed his brow. Was it possible he had met her when they had visited the hospital? He honestly couldn't remember.
"Are you his associate?" she questioned, taking advantage of Ryan's contemplative pause.
Again, 'associate' didn't exactly cover it. "Yeah, suppose I am," Ryan replied.
"Then where is the Doctor?"
"He went down," Ryan said, gesturing vaguely towards the floor. "Though he's a bit busy with something at the moment." The Catkind ignored him, pulling open the hatch in the floor, and dropping down to the next car, much like the Doctor had.
"Well, that was pleasant," Ryan muttered to himself.
There was another bang above, but not from the ceiling, something else, something further away.
"What in Jehovah was that?" Brannigan exclaimed.
"It's coming from above!" Valerie cried.
"What is it? What's happening?"
Ryan rejoined them at the front of the car. "How is the motorway enclosed? Is there a roof mechanism – 'cos that sounds like something unlocking."
Brannigan leapt out of his seat, and then Ryan remembered the hole cut into the roof. They peered up through it.
"By all the Cats in the Kingdom…"
Ryan couldn't help but grin. "He did it!"
"What is it?" Valerie asked.
Far, far above, the roof of the motorway was unlocking, one segment at a time. Ryan squinted as beams of bright sunlight shone down, the first sunlight these people had seen in years.
Brannigan started to laugh madly out of joy, and Valerie cried "It's the sun! Oh, Brannigan!" She lifted the blanket on her lap, showing their children the sunlight for the first time in the lives.
The screen in the dashboard flickered into life, and Ryan didn't think he'd ever been so happy to see the Doctor's stupid face. Apart from the incident with the Isolus. And Krop Tor. And the Wire. Top ten then, he amended.
"Sorry, no Sally Calypso, she was just a hologram; my name's the Doctor."
"He's a magician," said Brannigan.
"And this is an order. Everyone, drive up! Right now! I've opened the roof of the motorway, come on! Throttle those engines. Drive up, all of you! The whole undercity!"
Ryan grinned. "Come on then, what're you waiting for?"
Brannigan hastily put the car in gear. "Here we go!"
"… We've gotta clear that fast lane. Drive up and get out of the way!"
Brannigan whooped and hollered as they soared up into the open sky. "Did I tell you, Doctor? You're not bad sir! You're not bad at all!"
"You keep driving, Brannigan, all the way up! 'Cos it's here, just waiting for you, the city of New New York. And it's yours. And don't forget, I want Ryan back, and my coat, assuming he hasn't accidentally dropped it out your car."
Ryan grinned at his teasing. "Still got it, Doctor!" he called, hoping the radio would pick him up.
"Knew you wouldn't let me down." Ryan could hear the smile in his voice. "And car four-six-five-diamond-six, I've sent you a flight path – come to the Senate."
"On my way!" came Martha's overjoyed voice. Ryan was very happy to hear that she sounded well.
"Been quite a while since we saw you, Martha Jones."
Brannigan dropped Ryan off at the top of the Senate building. He bade them farewell, wishing them the best in the future. As they left, another car pulled up to the Senate, and a gleeful Martha jumped out.
"Martha!" Ryan exclaimed.
"Ryan! God, I'm so happy to see you!"
"Likewise!" Ryan opened his arms out, and Martha joyfully accepted a brief hug. "You alright?" he asked, as they stepped apart.
"Yeah…" Martha trailed off. Ryan followed her gaze, turning around to see skeletons crumpled on the marble floor. Ryan was not an archaeologist, forensic scientist, or anything of the like, but those bones looked like they'd been there for years, their deaths forgotten.
"Doctor?" Ryan called out.
"Over here," the Doctor said lowly, from around a corner. They followed his voice and dashed out from behind some drapes.
"What's- " Ryan stilled when he saw the Face of Boe slumped on the floor, his tank shattered. The Doctor was crouched beside him alongside the Catkind he had met earlier. Ryan put two and two together and guessed that she had been the Sister who had been looking after the Face of Boe in the hospital.
He jogged over to join the Doctor at his side, but Martha was more hesitant.
"What's that?" she asked.
"It's the Face of Boe, it's alright," the Doctor replied. "Come say hello. And this is Hame, she's a cat. Don't worry." He turned to Ryan. "You remember Hame?"
Ryan shrugged, smiling apologetically at Hame; though in all fairness, he hadn't been expecting Hame to remember him either, seeing as he looked just a little bit different now, compared to last time.
The Doctor turned his attention back to the Face of Boe, his sad eyes watching him. "He's the one that saved you, not me."
"My lord gave his life to save to save the city," Hame added mournfully. "And now he's dying."
"No, don't say that. Not old Boe – plenty of life left."
"It's good to breathe the air once more," the Face of Boe said telepathically, his rasping voice echoing through their heads. "And it's good to see you again, Ryan."
"Um, thanks," Ryan replied. "And you," he added quickly. Something didn't add up. From what he could hazily remember, the Face of Boe had said something about seeing them for the third and last time. Platform One, the hospital, and now here, which made three. So how did the Face of Boe know who he was now? Not knowing the mechanics of the Face of Boe's telepathy and whether that had anything to do with it or not, Ryan decided to not dwell on it, and assumed the mystery would be solved at some point, probably when they were least expecting it.
"Who is he?" Martha asked.
"We've met him a couple of times before," Ryan said. "But other than that…" he trailed off, hoping the Doctor would enlighten them further.
"We don't even know who he is," the Doctor continued in a whisper. "Legend says that the Face of Boe has lived for billions of years. Isn't that right? And you're not about to give up now."
"Everything has its time. You know that old friend, better than most."
"The legend says more," said Hame.
"Don't, there's no need for that," the Doctor said firmly.
Hame ignored him. "It says the Face of Boe will speak his final secret to a traveller."
"Yeah, but not yet. Who needs secrets, eh?"
"I have seen so much. Perhaps too much. I am the last of my kind… as you are the last of yours, Doctor."
The Doctor's lip quivered minutely, and Ryan placed a hand on his back, trailing his fingers up and down his spine.
"That's why we have to survive," the Doctor whispered, his voice shaking. "Both of us. Don't go."
"I must," the Face of Boe spoke out loud for the first time, between slow, gasping breaths. "But know this, Time Lord. You are not alone."
The Doctor stiffened under Ryan's hand, clearly shaken.
The Face of Boe let out a final breath, and his eyes fell closed.
Ryan bowed his head, and he felt the Doctor's arm wrap around his waist. Hame broke out into sobs, mourning her patient who she had dutifully cared for, for many years, right until the end.
The Doctor stood slowly, his arm still wrapped around Ryan, and with Martha they took a few steps back, giving Hame some privacy to grieve.
They slowly found their way back to Pharmacy Town. It was even tattier than it had been earlier, a panicked hurricane had ripped through as the mood patch salespeople had fled.
"All closed down," the Doctor commented.
"Happy?" Ryan asked, his hand in the Doctor's.
"Happy happy. New New York can start again. And they've got Novice Hame; just what every city needs – cats in charge! Come on, time we were off." The Doctor started to stroll away, tugging Ryan along with him. Ryan saw straight through his little 'nice, happy conclusion' speech, knowing the Doctor just wanted to get back so he could wallow in his own, lonely misery.
"But what did he mean, the Face of Boe?" Martha asked. "You are not alone."
The Doctor shook his head. "I dunno."
"You've got me and Ryan. Is that what he meant?"
There's me. When Ryan had told the Doctor that over two years ago, he hadn't said anything in response, just offering half a smile.
The Doctor gave the same half smile. "I don't think so. Sorry," he added, seeing Martha's face fall.
"Then what?"
"Doesn't matter," he dismissed. "Back to the TARDIS, off we go." He turned away again. Ryan let his hand drop out of the Doctor's. He wasn't as torn up as he had been earlier, on the TARDIS. Sure, the Doctor didn't have to talk about his personal life, but he also didn't need to be a massive wanker about it. And he definitely should have thought about the long-term consequences of lying.
Martha picked up a chair and sat down, arms crossed indignantly. Ryan gave her what he hoped was an encouraging smile. "Doctor," he said evenly.
The Doctor twisted around. "Alright, you staying?" he said, exasperated. Ryan thought this annoyance was more directed towards Martha than him, but that could easily be changed, depending on whether or not the Doctor had realised that Ryan was no longer acting as a neutral third party.
"Till you talk to me properly, yes," Martha answered. "He said 'last of your kind'. What does that mean?"
The Doctor's eyes dropped to the ground, watching his toes tap on the rough cobbles.
"Ryan – he talks, and I don't feel like he's hiding some big dirty secret," Martha continued. "But you – you don't talk. You never say. Why not?"
The harmonious lyrics of a hymn drifted through the air, gently pausing the one-sided discussion.
"It's the city… they're singing."
Ryan watched as the Doctor's Adam apple bobbed, his lips struggling to form words. He glanced at Ryan, desperate for… something. Ryan couldn't tell what.
"I lied to you… 'cos I liked it. I could pretend. Just for a bit, I could imagine they were still alive, underneath a burnt orange sky. I'm not just a Time Lord… I'm the last of the Time Lords. The Face of Boe was wrong, there's no one else."
Martha shook her head. "What happened?" she asked.
The Doctor walked the few short paces back. He grabbed a discarded folding chair and an overturned crate, and placed them next to each other, facing Martha. He took the crate, leaving the chair for Ryan. The Doctor shot him a pleading look as he sat down.
You need a hand to hold.
Ryan held his hand out, and the Doctor quickly grasped it, entwining their fingers, letting their hands rest on his thigh.
Martha watched keenly as the Doctor began to speak.
"There was a war. A Time War… the Last Great Time War. My people fought a race called the Daleks, for the sake of all creation. And they lost. We lost, everyone lost. They're all gone now. My family, my friends, even that sky." He smiled melancholically and glanced at Ryan; his eyes glazed over with nostalgia. Ryan rubbed his thumb with his own, to comfort and encourage.
"Oh, you should've seen it, that old planet. The second sun would rise in the south. and the mountains would shine. The leaves on the trees were silver, and when they caught the light every morning, it looked like a forest on fire. When the autumn came, the breeze would blow through the branches like a song. The leaves would dance to it as they drifted to the ground. And as winter approached, the snowline would creep down the mountains, to the hills, until the solstice. Then it would retreat back up, as steadily as it had approached. The melted snow would trickle down, forming little streams and rivulets, breathing new life into the rivers. When I was younger, I'd –" the Doctor cut himself off, and the mask slipped back up.
"Let's go back to the TARDIS," he muttered.
Back on the TARDIS, the atmosphere was heavy, heavier than was on Gororga VI, a huge planet where the high amounts of Xenon and Radon in the air - in addition to the stronger gravitational field – meant that you could practically feel the atmosphere pushing down on you. But of course, that was a literal heavy atmosphere, rather a metaphorical one.
The Doctor had said a lot about Gallifrey, more than Ryan had ever heard him say at once. But then his memories got more personal and he backed away. Even without the Face of Boe's cryptic final secret haunting him, Ryan knew the Doctor would want to be left alone for a while.
"I'll show Martha her room," Ryan offered, once the Doctor had sent them back into the vortex. The Doctor offered no more than a grunt in response, not even glancing up from the console.
"Come on," Ryan beckoned, and Martha followed him out of the console room. "Sorry about that," he added, once they were out of earshot.
"I feel kind of bad," Martha confessed. "I mean, I didn't know, but still…"
"Exactly, you didn't know, so don't feel bad. And I really am sorry about what happened today."
Martha shook her head. "It's not your fault – think I just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time."
Ryan nodded. "Of course. But I'm also apologising on the Doctor's behalf. He just blames himself for everything bad that happens, and either apologises too much, or just gets into a funk and acts like a bit of a twat, and then won't apologise for that."
"Will he be alright?" Martha asked.
Ryan shrugged. "He says he's always alright, but I know that's a load of crap. He just..." Ryan sighed. "He finds it difficult, opening up, talking to people, especially about his past. I thought that maybe, ever since I..."
"Ever since you what?"
He was going to explain about his gender identity at some point that evening, but now wasn't the right moment.
"Basically, I opened up to him about something important to me, something quite personal, and I was hoping that might encourage him more. It's silly; I know he doesn't owe me anything, but still, he's my best mate."
Martha nodded as she blindly followed Ryan through the TARDIS's winding corridors.
Ryan continued. "But he's never said that much in one go before, and I'm so proud of him."
Martha paused. "Sounds like you've got a bit more than a crush."
Ryan stilled. "I never said I had a crush!"
Martha turned to him and raised an eyebrow.
"Okay, yeah, bit more than a crush… god, is it really that obvious?" he laughed.
Martha laughed. "Trust me, it is."
The TARDIS indicated to Ryan that they had arrived at the right door. It was oak and had a simple handle.
"This is you," Ryan said, opening the door and letting Martha through. She gasped, and Ryan followed her in.
The walls were painted a vibrant turquoise and on the floor was a fluffy, deep purple carpet. Oak furniture was arranged against the walls, and a queen-sized double bed took centre stage, with plenty of cushions and luxurious bedding in the same hue as the carpet.
"It's just like my bedroom in my flat, but so much nicer!" Martha exclaimed. "And I've got a window! How does that work?"
"Oh, I've got one of those too. It sort of simulates a day-night cycle, kinda helps me get to bed."
"How does this all work though? I mean, you knew where to go, and my room looks like this, it's bonkers!"
Ryan looked around. "Shall we take a seat, think we might be here for a while."
Martha nodded and sat down on the bed, and Ryan joined her.
"The TARDIS is telepathic, like, she gets in your head. She was telling me which way to go, and she knew how to make your room based on what you prefer and what environment you'd be most comfortable in. She also translates language as well - like earlier, chances are they weren't speaking English in New New York, but we could understand them and they could understand us, cos the TARDIS just translated it all without us having to think about it."
Martha frowned slightly. "That's so weird. Makes sense, but still, it's bloody weird."
Ryan chuckled at Martha's reaction. "You're doing better than me - I was proper fuming when I found out."
"What else is there?" Martha enquired. "Like where do we eat?"
"Kitchen, 'course. Except we're on a ship, so it's a galley. And as for other rooms, if you can think of it, chances are it exists. Don't worry about getting lost either - rooms mostly stay in the same place, but she'll turn on some lights to guide your way, or something similar."
"Hang on, what do you mean by 'rooms mostly stay in the same place?'"
"The TARDIS likes to move rooms about sometimes - I think she does it to prank the Doctor, mainly," Ryan laughed.
"That's mad!"
"What, and whole bigger-on-the-inside thing isn't?"
"Well, that too."
They both chuckled, trailing off into an awkward silence.
"Can I ask you something?"
Worry welled up inside Ryan. He had no idea what Martha was going to ask, and part of him was scared he had been clocked.
He cleared his throat. "Um, sure."
"When the Judoon scanned you, they said you were a genetically modified human. What genetic modifications?"
Ryan relaxed a little, but not completely.
"Right. It's kinda complicated. Basically, I looked into the heart of the TARDIS, and ended up with this genetic modification," he answered, glossing over the details. "So now my lifespan will be longer than that of the typical human, and I'll age slower. Something to do with my cells regenerating more efficiently - that's what the Doctor said." He paused. "Shit."
"What is it?"
He pushed the heels of his palms to his temples. "Just realised that we never properly discussed it – me and the Doctor. We found out the end of a really long day, and I was knackered, so we just ended up watching a film and going to bed…" Another conversation to add to the list of conversations that he needed to have with the Doctor, but would probably never happen.
"So what's your story?" he asked Martha, changing the subject.
"I don't know really, it's nothing that interesting. Grew up in Richmond, got an elder sister and a younger brother – Tish and Leo. My parents divorced when I was in sixth form – Dad was caught cheating with Annalise."
"She the blonde one?"
Martha nodded. "Yeah, that's her."
"Wow…" Ryan breathed out. "Your life's so different to mine."
"How so?" Martha asked. "Other than, you know," she gestured vaguely at the wall, "the obvious. You said you were from Peckham, right?"
"Yeah, I am. My dad died when I was just a baby, so my mum brought me up by herself. Just about managed to get into sixth form, but dropped out after a term 'cos I met this guy. Being the naïve teenager I was, thought he was the one, but no, turns out he was a dickhead who cheated on me and left me in a load of debt. Moved back in with my mum, got with my friend, Mickey. Ended up working in a department store."
"And then you met the Doctor?"
Ryan nodded. "Yep."
Martha frowned. "I swear a department store blew up a few years back… was that…?"
Ryan grinned. "Yeah, it was him!"
They both broke out into laughter.
"So I guess it gets weirder once the Doctor got in the picture?" Martha supposed.
"Yeah, it does." Ryan exhaled heavily. "D'you remember I said I lost my mum? At Canary Wharf?"
"Yeah."
Ryan chuckled softly. "Right, this is where it gets kinda complicated…" He quickly recounted the story of how they accidentally fell out of the Time Vortex and into the parallel universe, meeting the parallel version of Pete, the death of parallel Jackie, and how they saved the world. He told her about Torchwood, and how they inadvertently started an alien invasion.
"We were caught in the middle of it all. Mum, Pete and Mickey escaped to the parallel universe. I stayed here. But now the walls between the universes have closed, and I can't ever see her again." He shuddered involuntarily.
"I'm sorry," Martha said quietly. "Do you… regret it?" she asked hesitantly.
"No," Ryan said firmly. "I mean, I miss her so much, and think about her every day. But if I'd gone with them and left the Doctor… I think it would have hurt so much more."
Martha nodded in understanding. Ryan drummed his fingers nervously against his knee. Now or never.
He swallowed sharply. "I've got er, something to tell you," he mumbled.
"Oh? What's that?"
He looked down at his hands, picking at his cuticles, unable to make eye contact. "I'm er, transgender." At the lack of response from Martha, he continued. "Means I was born female, but transitioned to male." He held his breath.
"Why?"
Why what? Still too nervous to look up, all Ryan had to go off was tone her tone of voice. It was neutral, albeit slightly curious.
"I don't know how to explain it, but being a girl – woman – didn't feel right. I feel happier, like this, as a guy. More me."
"Right."
There was a long silence.
"Hey, Ryan?"
He looked up finally. Martha was smiling at him sympathetically.
"I don't really understand… but it sounds really interesting though – was that the important thing you told the Doctor about?"
Ryan nodded slowly, still struggling to meet her eyes. Much to his surprise, Martha pulled him into a quick hug. "I'm glad you felt you could tell me."
He pulled back, smiling. "Thank you," he said quietly. "Sorry if this sounds weird, but I'm due another testosterone injection in a few days. Would you like to watch? I'm sure the Doctor would love to have someone else to talk medical stuff with."
Martha nodded with enthusiasm. "That sounds great! I mean, I'm not specialising in endocrinology, but it's all good experience."
All of a sudden, Ryan yawned a jaw-cracking yawn. "Oh my god, I'm sorry," he laughed. "I'm shattered."
"Don't worry, I'm pretty knackered too," she said.
Ryan slapped his hands on his knees and stood. "Right. I'll erm, be off. If you need anything, either the TARDIS'll help you, or she'll help you find me. Is that alright?"
Martha grinned. "Of course, thanks for everything, Ryan. See you later, then."
"Goodnight." Ryan slipped out the door and closed it gently.
He wandered back to the console room, and found a panel of grating pulled up, and the Doctor fiddling with some wires. Ryan doubted he was actually fixing anything, instead just giving his hands something to do while he was brooding.
"Hey, Doctor."
"I don't want to talk," the Doctor said lowly, not looking up from his tinkering.
Ryan rolled his eyes. "Fine… goodnight, then."
He just hoped the Doctor would be more willing to talk later.
A/N: Thanks for reading. My take on a fairly common trope next chapter, and then we move onto Daleks in Manhattan.
