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Love, Laugh, Die
Author's Note: HAPPY (slightly belated) NEW YEAR, FOLKS!
TRIGGER WARNING: contains bullshit science (it's Doctor Who).
A point of interest: "Dyrfain" is derived from the ancient Norse word "Dýrfinna," which means "sorcerer" or "illusionist." Take from that what you will.
Chapter 8
…
Rose waited.
She twiddled her thumbs.
There was a game on her phone that was good for passing mindless, anxious minutes.
In all, she didn't have to wait terribly long – just twenty minutes – but it felt like an eternity before Maria knocked on the door. Rose heard her call into the cabin and instantly she shot to her feet, all but tearing it open. The young laundry-maid stood there, a cart just behind her. She smiled, but it did little to soften the lines of exhaustion etched across her face.
"Long day?" Rose asked wryly, stepping aside.
Maria snorted. "Sort of." She turned and collected two trays from the cart behind her. "Dinner, if you're hungry at all."
Rose wasn't. "Sure." She paused, taking the trays. "Can you come in?"
Maria looked hesitant at first, then she nodded. "I saved yours for the end for that reason. I don't suppose anybody cares either way if I'm back at once. It's a dreadful panic up there." She slipped inside the cabin and shut the door, then dropped heavily onto the bed. There followed another pregnant pause as Maria looked about the room. Then, as if it had only just occurred to her, she said, "You're in the Doctor's cabin. And, ah, he's not here."
Rose shook her head, placing the dinner trays on the desk before collapsing onto the bed next to Maria. "He… he went down. Stupid bloody... " It came out in a weak, shaky burst of breath and tears welled in her eyes.
"Down… where?" Maria's voice was measured and wary.
Rose's response was to punch a pillow. "Down to the engine room. To talk to the creature, or creatures, or whatever the hell's down there. And I didn't stop him."
Maria's shoulders sagged a little and she let her own whoosh of breath. "Oh. Oh. Well, I mean… " There was an extremely long pause during which she seemed to struggle to compose herself before she asked, "How long ago?"
Rose glanced at her watch, then shook her head. "'bout twenty minutes ago."
"So. He's probably fine. … Probably." Maria breathed out. "Probably." Pause number four. "There's tea, by the way. Well, just a teabag and hot water, but… "
"Cure for everything, yeah?" Rose smiled, scrubbing at her eyes and wiping away any stray tracks of mascara. She got to her feet and removed the teacup from its holder on the tray, then got to work pouring in the tea from the teapot. "'s what my mum always said. Made it for everything, she did." Now she freed the Doctor's cup and poured a second serving. Abandoning the saucers, she brought both cups back over to the bed, handed one to Maria. "Used to brew a cuppa at any time when I was a kid 'n' had a nightmare."
Maria smiled softly over her teacup, only looking hesitant for a moment. "And you'd curl up on the sofa and she'd tell you stories, is that right?"
"Not so much stories, nah. Sometimes she'd talk to me about my dad, or even fill me in on the gossip just to make me think about somethin' else. Raised me to be a proper estates girl." Rose laughed. "But she wasn't a stories kinda mum. Left that part up to me. She'd turn on the telly and we'd watch – "
"Coronation Street," Maria finished.
"No. Don't tell me they still do Coronation Street."
"And EastEnders."
Rose was really laughing now. "You're jokin'!"
"I'm not!" Maria was insistent. "My mam followed them all like part of her life's rulebook, right along with the old stories and church on Sundays." She nodded wisely, then trailed off. "I believe, following a British calendar like we do up here, Brookside was meant to be on tonight. I suppose she's watching it now. There's this wee telly at the pub where she works, and she and all the barmaids crowd around it every night and don't pay the customers any mind unless the manager starts skulking about. Nobody really minds; if you're a regular you know enough not to show at the pub when Brookside's on. If you're new and you're heart's set on getting pissed, you'll give up pretty quickly."
Rose grinned. "Same here. 'cept mine don't work."
Maria smirked. "A bit different from mine, then." She laughed again, softly, taking another sip of tea. "Mine loves stories. Really. I was raised by a book of fairy stories just as much as I was by nurture and nutrition. My dad, he likes them fine, but my mam… " She sighed.
"When I was wee enough she'd sit me on her knee and tell me about the faerie folk and the leprechauns. I used to ask her if they were real, or just make-believe, and she said it was up to me, and that depended on where I looked. We grew up in this wee village, in one of those corners of Ireland that hadn't been touched much, so there were always places to explore – this brook filled with moss-covered rocks and a little wood that knew no limits for hiding places. I loved that wood. They tore most of it up when I was thirteen. Needed to make buildings.
"Anyway. The first time I asked her, and she told me that, I was awfully disappointed. I didn't see the point if they weren't real. She actually swatted me for that." Maria laughed. "She said that stories were their own reward, that you could lose yourself to them, and learn and discover them, and that they were everywhere. And I had to make sure stories never died. So I headed out to chase them." She laughed again. "I suppose that's what we're doing now. Chasing a story. Of these… creatures, and this ship."
Rose nodded contemplatively. She had opened her mouth and was about to respond when the door whipped open. The Doctor stood there. In an instant Rose shot to her feet, all but forgetting the tea she still held and only just managed to set it down on the desk before grabbing his hands.
"Doctor! God, my God, are you okay?! What happened?"
The Doctor didn't respond right away, just gave Maria one quick nod and closed the cabin door. He pulled out the desk chair and sank down into it. Rose hovered uncertainly for a moment before sinking back down onto the bed next to Maria. "… Doctor?"
"I talked to 'em. Identified 'em. Reckon we know what we're up against now."
In an instant, both women's heads snapped up. "Hang on – you – but are you okay, I mean, you never said, you – "
"You plan on listenin'?"
Rose settled back. "Sure – sorry. 's just… shoot."
He laced his fingers together as he leaned forwards, elbows resting against his knees. He looked up at her gravely. "They're called the Dyrfain. Advanced psychics, high-level telepaths. What us Time Lords can do? Child's play, if that, compared to them. And they're a… they're what you call a parasite race. Rely on other species for survival. Not like carnivores or anythin', I mean, technically lions reply on other beings for survival too. But these, they're wicked cruel and cling to other beings to live. Drain their life energy from 'em.
"They have a home planet, technically, though they're not the ruling race there. Sort of like you humans are the ruling race of Earth, but there's other species on that little rock o' yours – animals and the like. Dyrfain are similar. They don't like being the submissive, secondary race. So most of 'em ran off and established their bases on the planets ruled by lower-level races. Lower-level as psychics, anyway."
"Your planet?" Rose asked softly.
The Doctor nodded shortly, once. "Yes. Gallifrey was a favourite home of theirs. The Dyrfain feed off pure life essence – your lot might understand it is a soul, but it's much more complicated than that. The longer a life, the more filling the person is. But what really counts for them is the emotions stirring around in that person. What they feel like, what their life's like, what dictates their actions and thoughts. Some people lead boring little lives, nothin' much happens, don't feel much of anything, and they're not as much of a meal. Anyway, you combine these two things together into pure life energy and that's what the Dyrfain rely on."
"To… eat," Maria clarified.
"Partially. I mean, yeah, they use it to survive, but they can use it as an energy source too. You might power a car with petrol or whatever, they use the energy of their victims. How they drain one's life essence depends on what their victim is. A psychic species is more effective if consumed alive, a non-psychic race isn't worth the trouble of consuming alive. Anyway, that doesn't matter… Essentially they feed on their victim, then use excess and excreted energy as a power source."
"They sound awfully complex for a low-ranking species – on their home planet, I mean," Maria mused.
The Doctor snorted, not quite bitterly. "Yeah, well. Space travel for you." There was a beat, then he continued. "See, like I said, the Dyrfain established themselves on Gallifrey – my home. Fed off Time Lords and your regular Gallifreyans, made a good life for themselves. Wasn't much my people could do about it." He faltered. "Then came… y'know. The war.
"Most of the Dyrfain got wiped out. Some fled to other neighbouring planets, others figured they'd suck it up and buck on back home. Most of those got killed or executed on arrival. 'cept for a few stragglers, resourceful ones. A couple members of the noble families made it, along with a bunch of citizens." Now he pulled his sonic out from his inner breast pocket and, using it, gestured vaguely at nothing in particular. "And this ragtag little crew, less'n fifty of them, I'd wager, they scraped a team together and settled… somewhere. Dunno where, doesn't matter far as I can tell.
"Anyway, they were grieving, if you like. All teary-eyed cos their favourite nest to take over was gone. Poor saps. Then they picked up on it."
"On… ?" Rose cut in pointedly. Despite everything, he was starting to enter that mode of his in which he explained things at a higher-than-normal speed and made assumptions she knew about what he was talking about. Words like "it" and "thing" tended to surface in these situations.
"Me."
Rose raised a brow, and the Doctor had the courtesy to launch into a more reasonable explanation. "See, remember how I said once the vortex is like a river?" He shot Maria a quick glance to ensure she understood. She seemed to be following with little difficulty as Rose nodded. "Well, 's a fairly elementary explanation but it still works all right. So picture the vortex as this river. And it's not just flowing one way. There's fish swimming around in there, tadpoles and frogs. Few ducks 'n' geese, maybe a few swans. Water bugs buzzing about. There's small disturbances all around. Now, on the riverbank – outside of the river, outside of time – you get the occasional family picnic. Some kids playing. And once in a while, one of those kids toddles up to the edge of the water and drops a stone in. And that stone – " he gestured using the sonic again – "makes ripples."
The Doctor surged to his feet then. "And that – that – is what the Dyrfain pick up on. My people could sense disturbances in space-time too, but only with the proper equipment. And all of that burned up."
"On… a disruption in space-time?" Maria ventured.
The Doctor pulled a face. "Sort of. They can do it but most o' the time it means nothing. Those fish and birds cause their share of disturbance too. But some things, like rocks, send out particular ripples, that reach out long and far. And on me. I'm the rock."
Silence.
"They came here cos o' me," the Doctor explained after a very long pause. "Y'know. My fault if you like. They sensed, picked up on me, and travelled onto the ship, but they overshot rather. Ended up landing a near week before I got here. They've been takin' over slowly, from the inside. Tearin' up the engine room. 's a real sight if you care to pop down there some day. They're building a vessel, using what simple tools they've got left and the humans they've – collected."
"That's awful," Maria whispered, and he snorted.
"You're tellin' me. Anyway, Rose, Maria, listen. This is the important bit. They want to establish an – well, not an empire exactly – establish themselves on Earth. Live in the shadows, feed off humans. They'd be invisible. Nobody would notice 'em. And, y'know. Repopulate. They're dead set on it, and they'll go right on killing humans on this ship 'til they have enough energy to settle on Earth."
"And… why are they taking over the ship if the Bad Wolf's landin' on Earth soon anyway? This… energy-collecting stuff. Can't they just start, ah, consumin' people when they land there along with the rest of us?"
He shook his head. "They're weak. They need to start rebuilding. And they need a vessel. To store energy, 's like storin' fat for the winter. They're not sure what the conditions'll be like on Earth. Technically the Dyrfain can adapt to anything, but they need to store energy first to pull through. Besides, taking over the ship's like a little statement for them." He snorted and there was no denying the bitterness behind it this time. A beat. "Make sense?"
"As much as it's ever gonna make," Rose remarked. She paused. "Hold on a tick. What about the bodies? They never decomposed."
"Yes, they did, remember? They've started," Maria cut in.
Both women turned to look at the Doctor questioningly.
"Oh. Yeah." He joined them on the edge of the bed, forcing them to scoot aside a bit to make room. "That's the nature of having your pure life essence torn out of you. It's part of what composes your body signature, in a way – you humans wouldn't understand yet – but the same rules applies to any sentient species. That's a contributor, and then there's the energy of the Dyrfain. The lower decks are full of it. Some of that energy's bleeding up into the ship, there's traces of it all around. But it's centralised 'round Decks A-B-C and especially strong in the main engine room. It doesn't stop the process of decomposition but it slows it down drastically. Now that the bodies have been removed from that area, they'll finally start to decay."
Neither Rose nor Maria responded until the Doctor looked about the cabin. "Oh, look," he remarked in sudden merry tones. "Food. Thanks, love." He nodded to Maria and took one tray from the desk. He removed a tinfoil cover and inspected his dinner – a lump of baked beans, overcooked potatoes, and some slices of beef.
"The chefs didn't have time to cook any proper meals," said Maria apologetically. "It comes from our storage of emergency pre-made stuff. In case something happened. Sorry."
The Doctor shrugged it off, digging into the beans. "Not bad," he remarked, smiling brightly. There was a small bottle of orange juice sitting on the tray. Tang. He unscrewed the cap, took a sip, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.
Maria glanced at Rose in confusion. Rose just shook her head. She took a sip of her tea, though it had gone cold by now. "Doctor?"
"Yeah, that's me."
Rose cast Maria a quick worried glance. "So… what now?"
He gave her a jovial smile. It was terrifying, though Rose had come to expect it. "After supper, you mean?"
She shrugged. "Well… sure."
The Doctor paused and seemed to give this some kind of sardonic, horrible consideration. Then he shrugged. "Guess we'll see." He gave Maria a sort of nod of respect. "Oi. Potatoes aren't half-bad."
…
The Doctor lay sprawled on his cabin bed, still fully clothed. It was about four in the morning. The energy device was held between his two hands, raised a bit above his chest. He twirled and turned it this way and that. Tossed it in the air and caught it lightly. A plaything.
His mind, however, was elsewhere. It wandered down to the lower decks, to the engine room. To linger among rust and dust and cold concrete floor, to face a nightie-clad child.
No, she was not a child, he reminded himself, not for the first time. Why did he have to keep remembering? That – that thing, that pint-sized little beast was a Dyrfain. A parasite.
A clever, clever little parasite.
He sighed to himself, tossing the device onto his desk. He folded his hands and rested them atop his chest, his eyes fixed on the low ceiling of the room.
A quiet empire on Earth.
The Dyrfain had established their little kingdom on Gallifrey, taking Time Lords, Gallifreyans and the odd low-ranking creature as they pleased. And the Time Lords, one of the mightiest warrior races in existence, had not been able to get rid of them, cockroaches or no.
The vortex was like a river. He was the rock.
He never actually got anywhere.
Neither did the river, actually.
The Doctor sighed, and rolled out of bed. He was the Doctor, he reminded himself. He was nothing if not clever. He could, he reckoned, talk his way out of any situation. Not that he especially wanted to right now. But the child's – the creature's – words kept coming back to haunt him, blurred his vision. The child had reached out her – its, her, their, its, her, it didn't matter really – hand. A smile. An offering, a way out.
The humans would… well, they'd be all right, he reckoned.
He closed his hand around his sonic, pressed its blue end to his lips. Then he slipped it into his breast pocket and opened his cabin door, stepped out into the deserted passageway.
There was a light flickering on and off, somewhere above him, and below, a little girl's voice called his name.
"Excuse me, sir." The Doctor stopped dead and spun on his heel at the sound of the smooth Estuary voice. A man, a supervisor judging by his attire, was striding down the passageway towards him. The supervisor reached for his breast pocket, fumbling for a banal little card that would reveal his authoritarian position, just in case the Doctor wasn't bright enough to work it out himself. "Excuse me. Were you headed somewhere?"
The Doctor gave him an easy grin. "Just out for a bit o' fresh air, me. Gets awful stuffy shut up in a little cabin room all day."
The man cleared his throat, looking apprehensive. "They haven't done the interview rounds in Deck J yet, have they, sir?"
Well, if they had, Rose hadn't bothered informing him. "Don't think so, no."
"Hmm." The man glanced at his wrist tablet. "Oh, I see. They're scheduled for 4pm tomorrow." He eyed the Doctor suspiciously and shuffled his feet. "Sir, I'm afraid you're going to have to return to your cabin now. The SS Bad Wolf is currently under a strict curfew. Due to the circumstances… of which I thought all passengers were made aware."
"That so? A shame, that. Had my heart set on a pint."
"At this hour, sir?"
"You're the ones what set up a twenty-four hour bar." The Doctor spread his hands out.
The supervisor cleared his throat. "If you really want a pint, sir, we could arrange to have one delivered to your cabin, but in all truthfulness – "
"And if I wanna stretch my legs a bit? Go out for a bit of a walk? Cabins aren't awfully big, you know."
An edge slid into the supervisor's voice. "Sir – "
"Doctor?" A bleary-eyed Rose was shuffling out of her own cabin. "What's goin' on?"
The supervisor tensed more, if possible. "Miss, are you travelling with this passenger?"
"Hey? Oh, yeah. Yeah. Sorry, he's, uh, he's restless at night. I mean – " Rose reached out a hand. "Come on back in, won't you?"
The Doctor's gaze slid from the supervisor to Rose and back again. He had no chance of getting down to the engine room right now. "Right. Sorry. Have a good night, mate." The Doctor nodded curtly and followed Rose into her cabin.
She kicked off her slippers and dropped back onto her bed. He elected to lean against the desk.
"What the hell were you doing?" she asked sleepily.
"Out for a walk."
Despite being groggy she managed to shoot him a respectable glare. "'m not stupid. And in case ya forgot, I'm your friend. Who you trust, last time I checked. So tell me what you were doin'." She stood up and crossed her arms over her chest.
He stared at her. She glowered up at him, clad in her pink pyjamas, her jaw set and her shoulders square. A lock of blonde hair had fallen into her face. She had lost any traces of sleepiness, and behind those soft whisky-coloured eyes there was something fierce and challenging. The Doctor had seen this expression on her face a few times before (her face, her lovely face) and had had difficulty lying or saying no every time she wore it.
The Doctor drew in a deep breath. "All right," he said in measured tones. "I was considering – considering, mind – offering myself up to the Dyrfain. To – "
She slapped him.
Instinctively his hand flew to his cheek. She took after her mother in the way of slaps. "Oi! That hurt!"
She glared at him. "Are you really that stupid, or is it just me?" She shook her head and seemed to deflate then, shoulders sagging. "That you even let that thought fly through your stupid alien head… I just can't believe you." Her head snapped up again. "You were gonna just offer yourself up, and, and then what? Let them win? Is that what the Doctor does when he finds himself in a corner?"
"I had some ideas," he lied, nursing his still-stinging cheek. "Was gonna negotiate with them. My life, a last taste o' Time Lord, in exchange for leavin' Earth alone."
Rose shook her head, still incredulous. "See, see the thing is, I don't believe you. And I don't believe you feel, totally and completely, without a doubt, that these Dyrfain things wouldn't lie. We've made bargains before, and look how they turned out? Does the word Gelth ring a bell?" She threw her arms up in the air and began to pace the small space. The Doctor stood there, shoulders set back, silently watching her. "But okay, I'll bite. Say you actually did believe the Dyrfain'd keep their word. Say they did it. Well, that still ain't good enough, is it? Because, because you'd be gone."
The Doctor was half-expecting her to burst into tears – women did that often following emotional monologues, in his experience – but instead she continued on, angry. So all he could do was continue standing, waiting for her to finish.
He so very much wanted her to finish.
"No," Rose finally said, spinning on him, one finger raised in accusation and shaking. "No, you don't do that. You don't get to do that. Not long as I'm around." She dropped back onto the bed, seemingly truly exhausted, at long last, but she still wasn't done. As she glared resolutely at him, she said forcefully, "Promise me. Promise me you won't even bloody think about doing something so bloody thick ever again."
"Rose, I – "
"Promise me."
"Yeah." The Doctor sank down next to her. "Yeah, okay. I promise. I promise."
She let out a long breath and finally leaned against his shoulder, eyes drifting shut. "Good," she murmured. "Good." But she didn't sound like she fully believed him, and she had every reason not to.