The Dread of Tomorrow and Yesterday – Chapter 24
Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who, I wish I did, but sadly, I don't.
A/N: I know, this is final chapter of The Shakespeare Code and the next chapter/episode will be one with the Eleventh Doctor, I promise. I hope you like this one, anyway. I'm sorry for taking so long to update. I had two assignments that were due this week, so I've been really slow when it comes to writing, not to mention like 300 pages to read for Monday. I will try my hardest to finish a chapter in a week, if not earlier, my updating depends on the time I finish the next chapter, but I don't know, you might see the next update a bit quicker. Hopefully... And please do keep reviewing, they push me to write faster, I really mean it :)
Notes on Reviews:
YingWhiteyWolf: I know, I promised. I'm glad you like the chapter anyway. The next episode is one with the 11th Doctor, I promise.
Grapejuice101: I'm so happy you liked the chapter!
RavenSkill: I'm really glad you like it!
Warnings: Swearing, graphic imagery…
The Shakespeare Code: Bewitched
"Come on. We can all have a good flirt later." The Doctor huffed. Rhea laughed and wrapped an arm around his waist.
"Is that a promise, Doctor?" Shakespeare grinned.
"Oh, 57 academics just punched the air." Rhea muttered to the Doctor, making him smirk at her.
"Move!" The Doctor ordered.
They could hear loud screams and moans through the corridors as the four were led through the hospital.
"Does my lord, Doctor, wish some entertainment while he waits? I'd whip these madmen. They'll put on a good show for ya. Bandog and Bedlam!" The jailer crowed, a grin on his face.
The Doctor gripped Rhea's hand tightly and pulled her close to his side, as she closed her eyes, rubbing her temples as she was unwilling to see the atrocities as well as hear them. "No, I don't!" He growled.
"Wait here, my lords, while I make him decent for the ladies." The jailor said, before walking away.
"So this is what you call a hospital, yeah?" Martha glared at Shakespeare, her own experience as a medical student affecting the way she viewed what she considered to be a 'medieval' way of dealing with patients. "Where the patients are whipped to entertain the gentry? And you put your friend in here?"
"Oh, and it's all so different in Freedonia." Shakespeare said, defensively.
"Stop it, Martha." Rhea said, quietly.
Martha rounded on her. "How can you be okay with this? You're a doctor, you're a psychologist, for god's sake, you, of all people, can't be okay with this!" Martha said, incredulously. She thought that Rhea, at least, would be on her side.
"Martha…" The Doctor began, warningly, watching Rhea tense at the girl's words.
Rhea spun on her heels, an icy look on her face. "And, what's the alternative, exactly?" Rhea asked, folding her arms over her chest. "Pumping them full of so many drugs that they can't tell their left from their right?" Rhea asked.
"Medications can help them." Martha argued.
Rhea gave her a sad smile. "Oh, honey, you're so naïve." Rhea watched the girl bristle with anger, but cut her off before she could say anything. "Do you know what the problem with medication is, especially when you're treating this kind of illness?" Rhea asked, cocking her head.
"What?" Martha asked, hardly.
"Because they forget and we forget." Rhea said, simply. "We forget whether they were insane in the first place or if we just made them that way." Her voice was a bitter snarl at the end, her hands shook with some indescribable feeling, a mix between loss and grief and pain and hate, and she looked down to see her hands still, following another, masculine set of arms up to the Doctor's face, a knowing and compassionate look on his face as he stopped her from shaking.
For the first time, since she had met him, she utterly hated him.
She withdrew her hands from his grip, shoving them into the pockets of her leather jacket, hiding the influence that her words had on her, as she frantically tried to regain control of herself. Her lips pursed and she turned away from the Doctor, not before catching the look of hurt on his face, and resisting the urge to claw at her own eyes as a fierce sense of protectiveness and need to erase that hurt rose in her.
"I've been mad." Shakespeare said, after a moment. "I've lost my mind. Fear of this place set me right again. It serves its purpose."
"Mad in what way?" Rhea asked, hoarsely, her back still to him.
"You lost your son." The Doctor said, softly.
For some stupid, risky reason that Rhea knew the answer to but couldn't bring herself to admit it, their hands reached for each other at that precise moment and entwined all over again. It's a fucking vicious circle with you, isn't it?
"My only boy. The Black Death took him. I wasn't even there." Shakespeare said, his eyes empty and distant.
Martha shook her head. "I didn't know. I'm sorry." She said, quietly, noticing the tension in the Doctor's and Rhea's frames. She didn't understand why Rhea had acted so furiously just then, but the warning look that the Doctor had given her, before they had fought, gave her an inkling of why Rhea hadn't seemed thrilled when they had decided to come to Bedlam.
"It made me question everything. The futility of this fleeting existence. To be or not to be... oh, that's quite good."
"You should write that down." Rhea murmured to Shakespeare.
"Hm, maybe not. A bit pretentious."
Rhea snorted. "Of course it is, but it's good, nonetheless."
"This way, m'lord!" The jailor called from down the hall. He unlocked the door to Peter Streete's cell once the four arrived. "They can be dangerous, m'lord. Don't know their own strength."
"I think it helps if you don't whip them! Now get out!" The Doctor growled. The jailor scampered away and the Doctor and Rhea approached Peter, slowly.
"Peter? Peter Streete?" The Doctor tried.
"He's the same as he was. You'll get nothing out of him." Shakespeare told them.
Rhea levelled him with a look. "Oh, I don't know, I'm pretty good at this."
The Doctor laid a hand on Peter's shoulder. "Peter?"
Peter's head jerked up the moment the Doctor's hand touched him and he looked at the two with wide, glassy eyes, looking like there was something he desperately wanted to tell them.
The Doctor placed his fingertips along Peter's face, closing his eyes as he did so. Rhea flinched indiscernibly; she was reminded of the last time she had seen the Doctor do something similar to this. She had ended up, unconscious, on the floor as he disappeared into a teleport, determined on saving Earth from the Sontarans, without any care for himself.
"Peter, I'm the Doctor. Go into the past, one year ago. Let your mind go back, back to when everything was fine and shining." The Doctor said, his voice as smooth as silk as he tried to get Peter to do as he said. "Everything that happened in this year since happened to somebody else. It was just a story. A winter's tale. Let go. Listen. That's it, just let go." He placed Peter down on his cot. "Tell me the story, Peter. Tell me about the witches."
"Witches spoke to Peter." Peter began in a raw voice, scratching at his face. "In the night, they whispered. Got Peter to build the Globe to their design. Their design! The 14 walls, always 14. When the work was done," He laughed, baring his grimy teeth. "They sapped poor Peter's wits."
"Where did Peter see the witches?" Rhea asked, coming to stand next to the Doctor, but making sure to keep some distance between them. "Where in the city?" She crouched down. "Peter, tell me. You've got to tell me where were they?"
"All Hallows Street."
Suddenly, an old woman with wrinkled skin and fangs appeared, right next to the Doctor and Rhea, looking the very stereotype of an evil, old hag. Rhea swore and withdrew, pulling the Doctor back with her, going to stand beside Martha and Shakespeare.
"Too many words." The woman hissed.
"What the hell?" Martha breathed.
She placed her hand on Peter's chest.
"No!" The Doctor and Rhea shouted.
Peter screamed and his eyes went wide, going limp.
"Witch! I'm seeing a witch!" Shakespeare exclaimed.
"Who would be next, hmm? Just one touch." The crone said, turning to the three with a sick smile. "Oh, oh, I'll stop your frantic hearts. Poor, fragile mortals."
Martha rushed to the door, banging on it with her fists. "Let us out! Let us out!"
"That's not going to work." Rhea said, shaking her head, not taking her eyes off the crone. "The whole building's shouting the same thing. No one's going to listen."
"Who will die first, hmm?" The crone cackled.
"Well, if you're looking for volunteers." The Doctor said, walking towards the witch.
Rhea's eyes widened and her hand made a grab for him but she missed. She was held back by Martha. "No, wait, don't!"
"Doctor, can you stop her?" Shakespeare asked, looking at the incredibly brave man.
"No mortal has power over me." The crone hissed.
"Oh, but there's a power in words. If I can find the right one, if I can just know you..." The Doctor trailed off, thinking hard.
"None on Earth has knowledge of us."
The Doctor smirked. "Then it's a good thing I'm here. Now think, think, think... Humanoid female, uses shapes and words to channel energy... ah, 14!" The Doctor's eyes widened. "That's it! 14! The 14 stars of the Rexel planetary configuration! Creature, I name you Carrionite!"
The crone wailed and disappeared in a flash of white light that converged on itself.
"What did you do?" Rhea asked, her eyes wide as she turned to the Doctor.
"I named her. The power of a name. That's old magic." The Doctor said, lowly, taking a peek at her.
"But there's no such thing as magic." Martha argued.
"Well, it's just a different sort of science. You lot," He said, looking at Rhea and Martha. "You chose mathematics. Given the right string of numbers, the right equation, you can split the atom. Carrionites use words instead."
"Use them for what?" Shakespeare asked, as he held the panic off.
"The end of the world." The Doctor said, grimly, staring at Peter Streete's dead body.
Once they had returned back to Shakespeare's room at the inn, the Doctor started to explain who exactly the Carrionites were.
"The Carrionites disappeared way back at the dawn of the universe. Nobody was sure if they were real or legend." The Doctor said.
"Well, I'm going for real." Shakespeare said, dryly.
"What do they want?" Rhea asked, leaning against the table.
"A new empire on Earth. A world of bones and blood and witchcraft."
"But how?" Martha asked.
"I'm looking at the man with the words." The Doctor said, his eyes on Shakespeare.
Shakespeare's eyes widened. "Me?" He pointed to himself. "But I've done nothing."
Rhea frowned at him. "What were you doing last night, when the Carrionite was in the room with you?" She asked, cocking her head.
"Finishing the play."
"What happens on the last page?" The Doctor asked, coming to stand next to Rhea.
"The boys get the girls. They have a bit of a dance. It's all as funny and thought provoking as usual…" Shakespeare paused. "Except those last few lines. Funny thing is... I don't actually remember writing them."
Rhea's eyes widened. "That's it, don't you see!" Rhea whirled around, looking at the Doctor and Martha with mad green eyes. "They used him, they gave him the last few lines."
The Doctor's eyes dawned with realisation. "Like a spell, like a code." He breathed. "'Love's Labours Won', it's a weapon! The right combination of words, spoken at the right place with the shape of the Globe as an energy converter! The play's the thing!" The Doctor said, excitedly, before rushing out of the room.
"And yes, you can have that." Rhea said, guessing what Shakespeare was going to say even before he could say it, before following the Doctor.
The Doctor was looking at a map of London. "All Hallows Street. There it is. Rhea, Martha, we'll track them down. Will, you get to the Globe. Whatever you do, stop that play!" The Doctor growled.
"I'll do it." He shook the Doctor's hand. "All these years I've been the cleverest man around. Next to you, I know nothing."
Rhea rolled her eyes. "Oh, don't say that, he's already got a big enough head as it is." Rhea moaned when she saw the Doctor smirk.
"You shouldn't complain." Martha said, winking at Shakespeare.
"I'm not. It's marvellous. Good luck, Doctor." He nodded at the man.
"Good luck, Shakespeare…" The Doctor said, heading for the door. "Once more unto the breach!"
"I like that." Shakespeare paused. "Wait a minute... that's one of mine."
The Doctor poked his head around the door. "Oh, just shift!"
The Doctor, Rhea and Martha ran out of an alleyway and onto a busy street.
"All Hallows Street, but which house?" The Doctor muttered, looking around for some sort of sign.
"The thing is, though... am I missing something here? The world didn't end in 1599. It just didn't. Look at me, I'm living proof." Martha said to the Doctor.
The Doctor paced around, still looking for the right house. "Oh, how to explain the mechanics of the infinite temporal flux?" He paused and spun around to face Martha. "I know! 'Back to the Future'! It's like 'Back to the Future'!"
"The film?" Martha clarified.
"No, the novelisation. Yes, the film." The Doctor snapped.
Rhea lashed out and smacked the Time Lord on the back of his head with her palm.
"Ow!" The Doctor hissed, turning to her with a glare.
"Don't be rude." Rhea growled, not at all deterred by the fierceness of his glare.
The Doctor let out an exasperated sigh and turned back to Martha, who had been watching their exchange with an expression of amusement. "Marty McFly goes back and changes history." The Doctor said.
"And then he starts fading away." Rhea finished.
Martha's eyes widened with her realisation. "Oh, my god, am I going to start fading away?" Martha asked, her gaze moving back and forth between the Doctor and Rhea.
"You, Rhea and the entire future of the human race." The Doctor said, grimly. "It ends right now in 1599 if we don't stop it. But which house?"
Rhea spun on her heels and stared at a large, decrepit house that loomed over them. Her gaze turned downwards and she exhaled when the door began to open, slowly, seemingly of its own free will. Rhea elbowed the Doctor, forcing him to look her way.
"Hello, Amityville." Rhea muttered.
"I should have said 'witch' house." The Doctor said.
"No," Rhea shook her head, barely holding back an annoyed groan. "You shouldn't have."
They walked inside to find a very familiar woman standing there, waiting for them. She had been one of the maids at the inn when they had first arrived to speak to Shakespeare.
"I take it we're expected." The Doctor said, dryly.
"Oh, I think Death has been waiting for you a very long time." The Carrionite said, smirking.
"Right then, it's my turn." Martha said, bravely, taking a step forward. "I know how to do this." She pointed her finger at the woman. "I name thee, Carrionite!"
The Carrionite remained just as she was, unaffected.
"What did I do wrong?" Martha asked, looking at the Doctor and Rhea. "Was it the finger?"
"The power of a name works only once. Observe." The Carrionite said, smugly. She pointed her finger at Martha, who took a step back. "I gaze upon this bag of bones and now I name thee Martha Jones."
Martha's eyes rolled back into her head and she collapsed. Her head would have hit the ground had Rhea's reflexes not kicked in and caught her before she fell. Rhea placed her on the ground, gently, two of her fingers falling to Martha's neck, checking her pulse.
"What have you done?" The Doctor shouted.
"She's just sleeping." Rhea said, feeling the slow vibration beneath her fingertips.
"Alas, that is true," The Carrionite sighed. "Curious, the name has less impact. She's somehow out of her time. I wonder what would happen…" Her gaze turned to Rhea, who met her eyes, unflinching.
"Sunehri Adwani." She cut the Carrionite off, so that the witch wouldn't have a chance to use her name against her. "I wouldn't try it, though." Rhea said, lightly. "It's quite difficult to find words that rhyme with my name." Her hand went to the gun hidden in her jacket. "And I'd just shoot you before you got the words out." She said, her eyes dark with a vengeful promise.
The Carrionite hissed and turned back to the Doctor. "And as for you, Sir Doctor!" She pointed her finger at the Doctor, expecting a reaction. Rhea's head turned, sharply, but the Doctor's face remained blank and unaffected. "Fascinating. There is no name. Why would a man hide his title in such despair? Oh, but look. There's still one word with the power that aches."
"The naming won't work on me." The Doctor said.
"But your heart grows cold. The north wind blows and carries down the distant... Rose." The Carrionite tried, smiling when she saw the Doctor's reaction.
The Doctor stood and stormed over to the woman. "Oh, big mistake 'cos that name keeps me fighting! The Carrionites vanished! Where did you go?" The Doctor growled.
The woman turned her back on them. "The Eternals found the right word to banish us into deep darkness."
"So how did you escape?" Rhea asked, leaving Martha on the floor and coming to stand beside the Doctor, but not before making sure she would be alright.
"New words. New and glittering from a mind like no other."
"Shakespeare." The Doctor and Rhea said, simultaneously.
"His son perished. The grief of a genius. Grief without measure. Madness enough to allow us entrance." The Carrionite explained.
The Doctor frowned. "How many of you?"
"Just the three." The Carrionite murmured and turned to face them, a fierce look on her face. "But the play tonight shall restore the rest. Then the human race will be purged as pestilence. And from this world we will lead the universe back to the old ways of blood and magic."
"Hmm... busy schedule... but first you gotta get past us." The Doctor said, the two of them standing face-to-face with the Carrionite.
The woman smiled and sauntered forwards, pressing herself against the Doctor, smiling seductively. "Oh, that should be a pleasure considering my enemy has such a handsome shape." She ran her fingers along his face.
Rhea had the urge to rip those offending digits right of her hand, a strong bout of jealousy and possessiveness clouding her mind for a brief moment. She forced herself to calm down, cursing herself for that unplanned show of emotion, wondering if the Doctor could resist the woman's advances.
"Now, that's one form of magic that's definitely not gonna work on me." The Doctor said, lightly, his hand reaching out and gripping Rhea's hand. Whether to reassure her or himself, she wasn't sure. But she was pleased by his reaction to the Carrionite, nonetheless.
"Oh, we'll see." The woman whispered and yanked a few strands of hair from his head, backing away.
The Doctor touched the place on his head which stung.
"What did you do?" Rhea asked, frowning.
"Souvenir."
"Well, give it back!" The Doctor growled.
The Carrionite threw out her arms and the large window behind her swung open. She flew out, backwards, levitating in the air, outside.
"Well, that's just cheating." The Doctor said, from his place at the windowsill.
"Behold, Doctor. Men to Carrionites are nothing but puppets." She pulled out a doll made out of straw, something looking remarkably like a voodoo doll, and wrapped the strands of his hair around it. Rhea looked back and saw Martha waking up slowly.
"Now, you might call that magic... I'd call that a DNA replication module." The Doctor reasoned.
"What use is your science now?" She stabbed the doll in the chest.
The Doctor let out a cry and crumped to the ground as the Carrionite cackled and flew away. Rhea's eyes widened and she fell to her knees beside him, Martha rushing to the pair as well.
"Oh, my god!" Martha shouted, her eyes wide. "Doctor! Don't worry, we've got you." She rolled him onto his back.
Rhea rested her ear on his chest, hearing only one heartbeat instead of two. She rolled her eyes and raised her head, smacking him on the chest as she did so. "You idiot, you've only got one heart working, you nearly gave me a heart attack."
"I was hoping you were going to give me CPR." The Doctor teased, getting up. He let out a cry, his knees buckling. "Ah!" Rhea and Martha held him up, supporting him. "I've only got one heart working. How do you people cope?" He asked, eyeing the two women incredulously.
"I'll make it so that you only ever have one heart, if you don't fix yourself now." Rhea threatened.
The Doctor rolled his eyes. "I've got to get the other one started. Hit me! Hit me on the chest!"
Rhea balled her fingers into a fist and struck him hard on the side of his chest that was the closest to her.
"Ah!" The Doctor cried out. "The other side!"
She hit him again, this time on the other side.
"On the back! On the back!"
She reached over and thumped him between his shoulder blades.
"Left a bit."
She struck him again.
"Ah, lovely!" The Doctor exclaimed, standing up properly now. "There we go! Ba-da-boom-ba!" The Doctor sniffled and gave the two women a look. "Well, what are you standing there for? Come on! The Globe!"
"Sometimes I truly do wonder about him." Rhea sighed and the two women ran after him.
Rhea, Martha and the Doctor ran through the streets, on their way back to the Globe.
"We're going the wrong way!" Rhea shouted at him as they ran around a corner.
"No, we're not!" He argued.
He grabbed their hands and twisted their direction so that they were running the opposite way this time, the same way they came. "We're going the wrong way!"
Rhea rolled her eyes.
As they approached the Globe, the Doctor, Rhea and Martha could hear screaming and as they got closer, they stopped when they saw a bright red glow of energy streaming from the theatre.
The preacher they had seen when they had first arrived in 1599 was standing there, panicking. "I told thee so! I told thee!"
"Stage door!" The Doctor shouted, pointing at the door in question, at Rhea and Martha and they rushed off.
Thunderclouds and lightening formed over the Globe, mixing with the red glow.
The Doctor, Rhea and Martha burst in backstage to see Shakespeare sitting down in a chair and nursing his head.
"Stop the play! I think that was it!" The Doctor looked at Rhea, who nodded, glaring at the playwright herself. "Yeah, we said, 'Stop the play!'!"
"I hit my head." Shakespeare said, mournfully.
"Yeah, don't rub it, you'll go bald." The Doctor said, absentmindedly. He heard screams coming from the stage. "I think that's our cue!"
He and Rhea ran out on to the stage, while Martha grabbed Shakespeare's hand and they followed.
When they rushed out onto the stage, they saw hundreds more Carrionites cackling and flying about the theatre, having been released from a crystal that the maid, Lilith, had been holding up in her box.
"The Doctor! He lives! Then watch this world become a blasted heath! They come! They come!" They heard Lilith shriek.
The Doctor grabbed Shakespeare and pushed him to the forefront of the stage. "Come on, Will! History needs you!"
Shakespeare looked back at him, helplessly. "But what can I do?"
"Reverse it!" Rhea shouted.
"How am I supposed to do that?"
"The shape of the Globe gives words power, but you're the wordsmith, the one true genius. The only man clever enough to do it!" The Doctor encouraged.
"But what words? I have none ready!"
"You're William Shakespeare!" Rhea and the Doctor both screamed in unison.
"But these Carrionite phrases, the need such precision!" The playwright argued.
"Trust yourself." The Doctor urged. "When you're locked away in your room, the words just come, don't they? Like magic. Words of the right sound, the right shape, the right rhythm, words that last forever! That's what you do, Will! You choose perfect words. Do it. Improvise!" The Doctor pushed Shakespeare a little more.
Shakespeare closed his eyes, deep in thought. His eyes snapped open and he opened his mouth. "Close up this den of hateful, dire decay! Decomposition of your witches' plot! You thieve my brains, consider me your toy. My doting Doctor tells me I am not!" He said, looking back at the Doctor briefly.
Rhea started to smile when she saw the fearful look appear on the crones' faces.
"No! Words of power!" Lilith shrieked.
"Foul Carrionite spectres, cease your show! Between the points..." Shakespeare looked
"7-6-1-3-9-0!" The Doctor said, quickly.
"7-6-1-3-9-0!" Shakespeare repeated. "And banished like a tinker's cuss, I say to thee..." He, again, looked to the Doctor, who was at a loss, unsure of what Shakespeare should say next.
"Expelliarmus!" Martha suggested.
"Expelliarmus!" Rhea shouted with a bright grin on her face.
"Expelliarmus!" Shakespeare finished.
"Good old JK!" The Doctor crowed.
The Carrionites screamed.
"The deep darkness! They are consumed! Ahhh!" Lilith screamed.
"Ding dong, the witch is dead!" Rhea sang, loudly.
"Which old witch?" The Doctor asked, playing along as he grinned at her.
"The wicked witch!" They both finished at the same time. Rhea threw herself into his arms with a laugh, wrapping her arms around his waist and hugging him tightly, grinning into his chest when she felt him return the action as enthusiastically as she done.
Her previous anger at him was knocked from her head, violently, only to be replaced with a strange softness that…oh, shut up, you stupid slut.
The wraith-like witches were sucked into the massive cloud hanging over the theatre, similarly to a tornado, along with all of the copies of the play.
"'Love's Labours Won'. There it goes." The Doctor commented.
The cloud dissipated and the remaining audience sighed in relief and started to applaud. The Doctor and Rhea ducked out as the actors, along with Shakespeare and Martha, took their bows.
"They think it was all special effects." Martha murmured to Shakespeare as they smiled at the cheering crowd.
"Your effect is special indeed." Shakespeare said, giving her saucy grin and a wink.
Martha smirked. "It's not your best line."
The Doctor and Rhea went over to the box where the three Carrionites had been seated, where they found a small, purple crystal ball, in which the Carrionites were currently trapped. They looked into the ball and could see the three women scratching at the walls of their prison in vain. The Doctor took it with him, placing it in his pocket.
The next morning, the Doctor and Rhea walked back into the theatre and onto the stage, where Martha and Shakespeare were sitting at the edge of the platform.
"Well, don't they look cosy." Rhea murmured to the Doctor.
"And I say, a heart for a hart and a dear for a deer." Shakespeare finished, waiting for a reaction.
Martha shook her head. "I don't get it."
"Then give me a joke from Freedonia."
"Okay," Martha nodded and thought for a moment. "Shakespeare walks into a pub and the landlord says "Oi, mate, you're bard"."
Shakespeare laughed. "It's brilliant! Doesn't make sense, mind you, but never mind that." He wrapped his hand around her waist and pulled her closer. "Come here."
Martha shook her head, withdrawing from him just a bit. "I've only just met you."
"The Doctor might never kiss you. Why not entertain a man who will?" Shakespeare said, leaning in.
Martha pulled back. "I don't know how to tell you this, oh great genius, but your breath doesn't half stink."
The Doctor walked forwards, so that he and Rhea were in Shakespeare's and Martha's line of sight, wearing a ruffled collar and carrying an animal skull.
"Good props store back there! I'm not sure about this though." He looked down at the skull. "Reminds me of a Sycorax."
"What's a Sycorax?" Rhea asked.
"Sycorax." Shakespeare tried the words out on his tongue. "Nice word. I'll have that off you as well." Shakespeare said.
The Doctor huffed. "I should be on 10%." He told Rhea, who smirked at him. "How's your head?" He asked Shakespeare.
"Still aching."
"Here, I got you this." The Doctor removed the collar and placed it around Shakespeare's neck. "Neck brace. Wear that for a few days till it's better, although you might wanna keep it. It suits you."
Rhea rolled her eyes and elbowed him in the side. "Anything to make history happen." She teased.
"What about the play?" Martha asked them.
"Gone. We looked all over. Every single copy of 'Love's Labours' Won went up in the sky."
"My lost masterpiece." Shakespeare murmured, looking down.
"You could write it up again." Martha suggested.
The Doctor grimaced. "Yeah, better not, Will. There's still power in those words. Maybe it should best stay forgotten."
"Oh, but I've got new ideas. Perhaps it's time I wrote about fathers and sons. In memory of my precious Hamnet."
Martha's eyes went wide. "Hamnet?"
Shakespeare nodded. "That's him."
"Ham-NET?" Rhea clarified, just as stunned as Martha was.
Shakespeare frowned, looking between the two women's strange looks. "What's wrong with that?"
"Anyway," The Doctor interjected. "I've got a nice attic in the TARDIS where this lot," The Doctor held up the purple crystal ball. "Can scream for all eternity and I've gotta take Martha back to Freedonia."
"You mean travel on through time and space." Shakespeare said, bluntly, looking the Doctor in the eye.
The Doctor's eyes widened. "You what?"
"You're from another world like the Carrionites and Sunehri and Martha are from the future. It's not hard to work out."
The Doctor looked absolutely dazed. "That's... incredible." He said, dumbly. "You are incredible."
The playwright gave the Doctor a secret smile. "We're alike in many ways, Doctor." He turned to Martha. "Martha, let me say goodbye to you in a new verse. A sonnet for my Dark Lady."
Rhea gave Martha, who looked a little shocked, a wink and a smile. She turned to the Doctor. "I can't believe she's the 'Dark Lady', good for her!" She whispered.
"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate-"
Two actors rushed in, interrupting Shakespeare's attempt to woo Martha.
"Will! Will! You'll never believe it! She's here! She's turned up!" One of them shouted.
"We're the talk of the town. She heard about last night! She wants us to perform it again." The other told them.
"Who?" Martha asked.
"Her Majesty! She's here!"
There was the sound of fanfare and trumpets as a middle-aged woman with bright red hair entered the theatre, decked out in voluminous gown and jewellery.
"Queen Elizabeth I!" The Doctor cried out, excitedly.
"Doctor!" The queen hissed, angrily, the minute she saw him.
"What?" The Doctor eyebrows furrowed in confusion.
"My sworn enemy!"
"What?" The Doctor's voice rose higher as his bewilderment deepened.
The queen's beady eyes turned to Rhea, who narrowed her own eyes. "And his wanton temptress!"
"Wait, what did you just call me?" Rhea asked, taking a step forward, suddenly furious.
"Off with their heads!" Elizabeth shouted.
"What?"
"Never mind 'what'," Rhea shrieked at him, grabbing the Doctor by his collar and tugging him behind her the moment she saw the queen's guards raise their bows and spears. "Just run!"
"See you, Will!" Martha shouted as she ran after the two, looking back at Shakespeare briefly. "And thanks!"
"Stop that pernicious Doctor!" They heard Queen Elizabeth scream over Shakespeare's guffaws.
They ran through the busy streets, dodging the others, who glared at them, back to the TARDIS.
"Stop in the name of the Queen!" They heard the guards shout from behind them.
"What have you two done to upset her?!" Martha asked as they ran up to the blue police box.
"How should I know? Haven't even met her yet. That's time travel for you! Still, can't wait to find out." He unlocked the TARDIS and Rhea and Martha ran in. "That's something to look forward to." He said, looking back with a smile.
"Maybe not when her guards are playing William Tell!" Rhea hissed in his ear as she grabbed him and pulled him inside, just as the archers fired, their arrows embedding in the doors of the TARDIS.
The TARDIS disappeared.
Rhea stumbled into the control room after showing Martha to a room where she could freshen up. The Doctor was at the console, plugging in the coordinates for the next place they would be going.
"She find the place okay?" The Doctor asked, not taking his eyes off the piece of equipment he was observing.
"Yeah, I showed her to the bathroom." Rhea said, rubbing her hands together and coming to stand next to her.
"Are you angry at me?" The Doctor asked, suddenly looking at her with those annoyingly soulful brown eyes.
Rhea pursed her lips. "What gave you that idea?" She asked, laughing it off.
His hand clamped around her wrist, stilling her jerky movements and preventing her from running off, her signature move when things got too emotional or too painful for her.
"You haven't spoken to me properly the entire time." Rhea opened her mouth to refute what he had just said, but the Doctor cut her off. "You flirt with and tease me like I'm some random person you just met and not me." He stressed the pronoun, using his grip on her hand to pull her closer, so that her hip was touching his. "And what happened in Bedlam-"
"I don't want to talk about what happened in Bedlam." Rhea said, sharply, cutting him off this time. She sighed and ran her hand through her hair for what seemed the millionth time that day.
"I know why you had that reaction." The Doctor said, quietly.
Rhea laughed. It was a harsh and chilly laugh, that made her feel even more colder than she already was. "Don't you always?" She asked, cocking her head as she stared at him, a cynical smile plastered across her face. "You always know." She ripped her hand from his grasp but leaned in this time, not pulling away. "Why do you always know?" She growled.
The Doctor shook his head. "I can't tell you that."
He was about to say something else, but Rhea wasn't going to let him. "If you say that word one more time, so help me God, I will knock you out." Rhea said, dangerously.
"I can't tell you more than what I have." The Doctor snarled, getting angry himself.
"You've barely told me anything as it is!" Rhea shouted.
The Doctor made to move away from her. There was nothing he could say to her without disturbing the timelines. Didn't she realise it hurt him just as much to see her like this?
"Who are you?" Rhea asked, leaning forwards slightly. "What could you possibly be to me that I would tell you any of that?" Rhea had never been more terrified of anyone or anything than she was at this very precise moment, of him.
"Spoilers." The Doctor said, simply.
Rhea let out a frustrated scream. "Why are you so infuriating?" She breathed in, harshly. "Who are you to me?!" She demanded. "Tell me!"
"I'm your friend."
"Oh, don't give me that vague bullshit!" Rhea snapped. "I don't tell anyone about my demons. No one. What makes you so damn special?" With that final question, she hurled herself away from him, storming away from the console.
She wrapped her arms around herself, hugging tightly. She kept her back to him until she felt a large hand squeeze her shoulder. She turned, reluctantly, to see him, sad brown eyes and upset look on his face. She cursed herself and him in her head, wondering why the alien had such an intense effect on her and her ability to forgive him for things. If it were anyone else, she would have no problem with cutting them out of her life completely.
"I know." He said, earnestly. He cupped her face with his hands. "Listen to me, I know." He stressed. He pulled her into a hug. "I know you hate me right now." His hearts felt like they had been ripped out of his chest and disintegrated right in front of him the minute he spoke those words. It was hard to imagine a life where Rhea hated him. "I understand why, I hate it too." He pulled back and looked her in the eye. "I hate not being able tell you how I know all of those things. But I am someone you trust. You would never have told me any of those things if you couldn't trust me."
Rhea pursed her lips. "Why should I trust you?" She asked, her voice cracking.
"Shakespeare said you trusted me."
Rhea shook her head. "I never said I didn't trust you. I want to know why I should."
"Because I need you." The Doctor said, simply. "I need you to be there, by my side, like you always have been. I need you to pull me in when I'm lost and…" He hesitated. "I think you need me to pull you in when you're lost too." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a necklace. It was a pretty piece. A long gold chain with small strands of pearls of differing length coming out from it.
Rhea felt the hollowness of her attempt to distance herself from him, just as the pain of caring about him pulled at her, as if she were standing in a puddle of quick sand. Her eyes softened during the war of her emotions and she took the necklace he handed her. Her fingers ran over the smooth pearls, just a bit reverently, and she looked up at him, questioningly.
"I, well, I," He rubbed the back of his neck, giving her a sheepish smile. "I might have nicked it from the prop room of the theatre when you weren't looking." Rhea laughed, throwing her head back, exposing the smooth skin of her neck. "I thought it suited you."
He motioned, asking her silently whether he could put the necklace on her. She nodded and turned her back to him, sweeping her hair over her shoulder and out of the way. He wrapped the chain around her neck and clasped it, tugging the long black locks of her hair out of her grasp and back over her shoulder, letting it flow down her back. She turned back to face him.
"You don't even have to wear it as a necklace." The Doctor said. "You could wear it as a circlet or a tiara."
"It's lovely." Rhea whispered. "It's been a long time since someone bought me jewellery without expecting anything in return." She looked up at him and smiled, softly. "Thank you." She said, meaning every word of it. She leaned up and kissed him, slowly and softly, just on the corner of his mouth. She pulled back and bit her bottom lip, as it curved into a smile.
The Doctor smiled at her and wrapped her small, curvy form in a hug, lifting her off the floor, her shrieking as he did, wrapping her own arms around him, so that she didn't fall down. When her feet touched the ground again, she pushed herself away from him, just a tad unwillingly, and walked back over to the console, the Doctor following her.
"So, where are we off to now?"
A/N: This chapter's title comes from the TV show, Bewitched. This was definitely a hard chapter to write. I had to make Rhea very distant from the Doctor, because this whole out-of-order time travel thing is really getting to her and the only person she can show that on is on the Doctor. Things finally blew up at the end and Rhea got a chance to vent out a lot of what she's been feeling. But they had a very sweet moment at the end of the chapter, and she kissed him, on the corner of the mouth, but it was still a kiss! And he gave her a necklace. I'll put up a picture of the necklace on my Tumblr when I get up to The Shakespeare Code. And Bedlam has a very strange effect on Rhea, doesn't it. She got very angry and defensive when Martha mentioned medication. Well, I suppose we'll find out soon!
And, don't worry, the next chapter/episode is one with the Eleventh Doctor in it. And Amy and Rory. It's one that we've all been waiting for… but I don't plan on telling you which episode it is. I'm evil like that! You'll just have to wait and see.
Anyway, Read and Review!