Hello there! Sorry for the long wait. I was just trying to get the plot in order. Here we are!
Shouting. Chaos. Screams. Kent laughing just before pulling the leaver.
"...-possible internal injury. Heart beat is weak. Non-responsive to sedatives."
His body burned. There was a mask on his face. Someone was screaming. He vaguely realized it was his own voice. There were voices around him, frantically trying to calm him-...
He stared at the lifeless body. The guard looked at him questioningly.
"Oh. Suicide, of course." He casually brushed off the death. "Very sad."
Murder. He murdered the man...
Kent, Fedirin, Swann. How many others had he murdered?
Someone spoke to him, reassuringly. He felt a sharp pain in his arm, and he faded out of consciousness.
"Just a quick stop in Cardiff to refuel, and then off to Clom!" The Doctor animatedly moved around the console, flipping leavers and pressing controls.
"Why Cardiff?" Martha Jones asked, smiling at his maniacal grin.
"There's a temporal rift there. It leaks out temporal energy and the Tardis picks it up." He explained, simply. The Tardis finished the landing sequence.
"That's strange. " The Doctor was looking at the monitor. "The Tardis is picking up temporal energy in massive amounts. It's almost as if the rift were... alive."
"Is that a bad thing?" Martha asked.
"Don't know. Could be. It's never done that before." His eyes narrowed. "What?!" he exclaimed, suddenly. "But... That's impossible! The Tardis is acting like... Well, like there's another Tardis nearby."
"But you said you had the last Tardis."
"Yes." He muttered, looking at the screen. "Let take a look outside. Allons-y!"
The Doctor dashed to the door, quickly grabbing his coat from the hook by the door and slipping it on.
Martha followed.
Outside, it looked like it was late morning. There were few people about.
The Doctor looked around, something catching his eye. He pulled out his sonic screwdriver, and began scanning the area.
"There are time traces..." He muttered, dashing off after the signal. Martha followed.
"There we are, Jamie! The great falls of Pannimarah!" The Doctor burst out of the door of the Tardis, happily. He stopped short, his face falling, when he saw the city alleyway outside.
"This doesn't look like a waterfall." Victoria frowned.
"Aye! This looks a wee bit more like a city." Jamie laughed. "Let's hope it's nae a Cyberman city, or some other alien beasties."
"It's hardly Cybermen, Jamie." The Doctor retorted, frowning as if his ego had been bruised. "Early twenty first century earth, I should think."
"Aye, It always is earth."
He brightened. "Well!" He clapped his hands together. "Now that we're here, we may as well look around."
He happily walked toward the street, his two young companions following. As they walked, the Doctor seemed to be more and more excited.
"Oh, this is perfectly splendid! We're in Wales!" He said, happily. "Look at the road signs! They're bilingual!"
"What's so special about that?" Victoria asked. To her, it looked as if each sign had a string of gibberish alongside each name.
"I can practice my Welsh!" The Doctor replied.
Jamie shook his head. "Oh no..."
The Doctor wandered off to the nearest local and began talking, leaving Jamie and Victoria where they were.
"Oh, he's going to make a fool of himself." Victoria worried allowed.
"Aye. And he willnae want tae leave."
The two chuckled together.
Jamie looked around at the street and people passing. "The Doctor gave me some money, and I saw a shop with food nae far away. Are ye hungry?" Jamie smiled.
"Famished." Victoria beamed back.
Jamie offered her his arm, and together they walked away.
"... in his eyes. He has a lot of minor lacerations and some bruising. Several fractures in his right wrist and hand, as well as a few fractured ribs. Possible concussion."
Ramon's ears were ringing. He could only just make out the words being said nearby. He slowly began to regain feeling in his body, first in his head, moving downward. His head was pounding like a jackhammer.
As the ringing in his ears lessened, he became aware of the beep, beep, beep, of a heart monitor. But it was erratic, not rhythmnic. He was painfully aware of the lack of a certain burning presence that he had grown so used to, yet loathed.
"He also seems to be suffering from a bad sunburn, with some more serious burns on his limbs, as well as hypothermia."
Ramon became aware that he was lying in a soft bed. He slowly regained his senses, and was met by searing pain. His body was raw as if someone had rubbed sandpaper all over him, and somehow inside as well.
A new voice spoke. "None of his symptoms add up."
The contact with the bed was painful, and even the pressure of the blanket on top of him was agony. He wanted to scream in pain but couldn't even find the strength to whisper.
"Yes, sir, we noticed that as well. It's very strange. Have you received any of the test results relating to why he was resistant to the sedatives? He seemed to be in some sort of pain."
Ramon searched his mind. His memories were muddled, and he couldn't remember
"No, nothing yet."
He struggled to open his eyes. Involuntarily, he gasped as his eyes were greeted by blinding gold light. He blinked several times, trying to clear his vision in vain.
"He's awake..."
"Oh my-..."
"Sir, can you hear me?" The first voice asked suddenly.
"How is he awake?" The other voice hissed, quietly.
Ramon focused on the voices, fighting the panic that was building. I'm blind!
He took a shaky breath. "Wh-..." he broke off into a string of coughs, making his insides once again feel like they were on fire. His throat was dry and grated, and his mouth tasted like dust. "Where... am...?"
"You're in a hospital, in Cardiff, Sir."
"Wh-... What... year...?" Ramon could not tell how long he had been in the vortex. It could have been only a second, or it could have been a thousand years.
There was a pause. "2018."
Ramon felt his heart jump to his mouth. How had they not recognized him? He was a wanted man, let alone a leader of several zones... He realized he couldn't know he hadn't already been found out.
"Sir, do you know what happened to you? Can you tell me your name?"
Well, that settled that. He gently shook his head, and then, with much difficulty, rasped, "...Ramon... S... Rivera... Ramon Rivera..." His mind was fading again, as weariness overcame him again, but he knew it likely wouldn't be a good idea to give himself away.
"Well, Mr Rivera, we'll do everything we can to help you. Tell me, how many fingers am I holding up?"
Ramon blinked, trying hard to keep awake, still only seeing blazing white light, with gold in his peripheral vision. He gently shook his head. "I... Lo siento... señor..."
He heard them talking together. His mind was fuzzy. That was the only word he could come up with to describe it. He picked out something about speaking spanish.
He felt one of the doctors return. "Don't be alarmed. Your sight should return soon. But now you should rest. There will be time for-..."
But Ramon was already asleep, before she could finish her sentence.
UNIT Headquarters, London
"Ma'am." The lieutenant saluted.
The Brigadier turned and relieved him. "What is it, Lieutenant?"
"Ma'am, there have been reports of temporal disturbances, at these coordinates." He handed her a report.
She skimmed through it, and sighed. "Lieutenant, we've known about the temporal rift in Cardiff for decades."
"Excuse me, Ma'am, but last night at exactly 02:37, it fluctuated much more violently than it ever has before. This morning, a man was found at the scene in quite a state. He was taken to the hospital in Cardiff."
The Brigadier began paying more attention. "Do we have a description of this man?"
"Yes, ma'am, it just came in. He matches the description of... well, Him."
The Brigadier stood. "I see. Do you have any more information?"
"Only that it seems to be his Second incarnation, the first to work with UNIT with the Cyberman invasion in the early seventies. He also woke, but only briefly. He wasn't able to give them any information, aside from a name. He called himself 'Ramon Rivera'."
The Brigadier nodded. "Lieutenant, prepare a vehicle and a party to accompany me to Cardiff."
"When, Ma'am?"
"Immediately."
"Yes, Ma'am." The young man hesitated. "Ma'am, there was more to the report."
"Yes, lieutenant?"
"His Tardis was located a few miles away."
"I see. Send a transport to bring it to headquarters. It would be disastrous should it fall into the wrong hands."
"Yes, Ma'am."
The Doctor looked up at the large hospital. "The time traces are coming from there." He muttered.
"Is there some sort of time traveling alien in the Hospital?" Martha asked.
"I don't know." The Doctor moved forward, toward the doors. Martha followed.
The lobby was quiet. The Doctor moved to the receptionist desk and flashed his psychic paper. "Doctor John Smith, and Doctor Martha Jones."
The receptionist nodded. "Another one of those Unit fellows." She muttered. "To the left is the lift, third floor, room 314."
The Doctor nodded, glancing at Martha. He followed her instructions.
"What do you think it is?" Martha asked, as soon as they were out of ear shot
The Doctor frowned. "I'm not sure yet. But if Unit is involved..." He stopped when the elevator opened, and he quickly walked out.
They continued down the hallway until they reached door 314. There were two soldiers outside.
"Excuse me, sir," One of the soldiers said, stopping him. "Your ID please."
The Doctor flashed his psychic paper, saying "Doctor John Smith, and Doctor Martha Jones."
The man's eyes widened, obviously recognising him suddenly. "It's... Its you. You're the Doctor. But... thats impossible!"
The Doctor smiled. "But here I am, in the flesh! Try to keep up."
"You can't be here, because you're in there, unconscious!" He motioned toward the door.
The Doctor frowned, and pushed past the guards, into the room.
There were several UNIT personnel inside. They all stopped what they were doing when they saw him. One, recognizable by her rank as the Brigadier, stood.
"Doctor..." She said, surprised. She quickly regained her professional air. "We weren't expecting you."
"Brigadier, whats going on here?"
Ramon woke again. This time, he was much more coherent and alert, and he thought to keep his breathing even and remain as if he were asleep. He was no longer in any substantial pain, with only minor aches throughout his body. His head no longer hurt, though he could tell it was sensitive and even something minor could trigger a bad headache.
He could hear the steady rhythmnic beeping of a heart monitor, and he was sure there was a nurse nearby.
He heard someone enter the room.
"UNIT is here, to see the patient. I told them your orders, that he can't be seen, but the Brigadier insists." The voice sounded English.
Ramon had a flash of memory hit him. UNIT. United Nations Intelligence Taskforce. He had seen them closely intertwined with his-... the Doctor's timeline.
One of the other occupants sighed. "Very well." He spoke with a thick Welsh accent. "Only one at a time though, and tell them to keep quiet. The patient is stable, but he is still in delicate health."
"Very well, Doctor." The nurse's footsteps echoed as she left.
Ramon almost flinched when he felt a hand on his wrist, checking his pulse. A stethoscope was gently pressed on his chest.
He did his best not to respond or react in any way. It seemed to fool the man as he pulled back, sighing.
The door opened again, this time someone with heavier boots walked in.
"How is he?"
"His heart beat is steady, but arrhythmnic. He's recovering from his injury at a remarkable rate. Its almost inhuman. We haven't gotten the blood tests back yet, but I suspect they will be non-conclusive to what may still be ailing him. It's like nothing we've ever seen."
"Yes. That's to be expected with the Doctor."
"What do you mean?"
Ramon's heart beat harder in his chest. He could hear the monitor beep slightly faster, and he did his best to calm himself. It would not do to reveal himself now. Luckily, they didn't seem to notice.
"Nevermind. Keep him comfortable, and let me know when he wakes. If anything happens, even the slightest change, let me know immediately."
"Yes, Ma'am."
The soldier, as Ramon guessed from the heavy boots, left the room. He thought for a moment. They thought he was the Doctor. That explained some things, but it also put him in a more difficult situation. He knew if he spoke, they would know. The Doctor was, in this incarnation, English. He supposed he could try to copy the accent. Either that, or he could use his condition as an excuse. Sooner or later, he would have to wake up, and then the volley of questions would come, which he couldn't answer just yet.
He felt a sudden itch in his throat, and he cursed his bad luck. He needed more time! Before he could stifle it, he coughed. His insides, still sensitive, clenched, and a splitting pain filled his head.
The doctor came to his side, checking him. "Mr. Rivera?"
Now, he supposed, was as good a time to wake as any. It was no longer feasible to continue the charade, especially considering the pain in his head, making him grimace in pain. He gently stirred, and blinked, in an attempted to appear as if he were only just waking. He was relieved to see a room come into focus instead of the blinding white, though he was still seeing traces of gold in his peripheral vision.
A man's face came into view. "Doctor... Rivera? Can you hear me?"
Ramon nodded, gingerly, and tried to say, with his best English accent, "W-... Water..."
The doctor- not THE Doctor, just A doctor, Ramon found himself reminding himself- moved away, and returned a moment later with a cool glass of water. He carefully helped Ramon sit up, and take a sip.
The water was cool and seemed to heal his parched throat.
"I'll return in a moment." The doctor said, leaving the room no doubt to tell the UNIT people of "the Doctor's" miraculous recovery.
Ramon waited until he was sure the man was gone, before sitting up straight and looking around. He shook his head, trying to clear his vision. He must still be suffering from side effects. He kept seeing gold streaks in his peripheral vision.
There was little in the room. He was sure there were security guards outside the door, and on closer inspection, he could see the window was not an option, as they were several stories up. He might have been able to climb down, but his right hand and wrist were in a cast; broken, as he recalled the doctor mentioning.
He quickly settled back in bed when he heard the doorknob turning.
They would likely ask questions, and when he didn't answer, they would grow suspicious. He needed to think of something, quickly.
The door opened, and the hospital Doctor entered, accompanied by a woman in a uniform. Her heavy boots gave her away as the woman who had been in the room earlier.
A younger man and a young woman came in behind her. Salamander looked at the man a little longer, blinking as the gold haze was coming back. It was strange. It almost seemed to center around him. He wore civilian clothing, including a long brown coat-...
Salamander nearly choked when he realized he recognized this man. He had seen him in the vortex.
The Doctor.