The Caretaker
.
.
Chapter 2
.
Martha found herself propelled along strange corridors in the TARDIS. Everything looked familiar, but wrong, as if someone had rearranged a set of building blocks. The corridor blurred and shifted before her eyes and Martha felt nauseous.
"Have I gone barmy?" she whispered, closing her eyes.
"Be quiet," the Caretaker ordered, shoving her through a doorway at last. Martha's knee gave out and she sprawled across the floor, burning her chin and elbows on the dusty carpet of a dim bedroom.
Martha sat up with a quiet growl and massaged her knee, determined not to let her fear show. She got her first good look at her captor. He appeared to be about forty, not tall but not particularly short either, and solidly built. He had that 'surfer' look about him that people who spend a lot of time outdoors get. The look of desperation he wore sat oddly on features that looked like they were more accustomed to smiling.
At least she had some idea what she was dealing with; a Time Lord: highly intelligent, not particularly strong or poisonous or otherwise physically powerful. "Do I have a tag on my forehead that says 'Damsel in Distress' or something? Why am I always the hostage?"
The Caretaker finished erasing the door and rounded on Martha. "I said be quiet." He grabbed her by the neck and hauled her onto the bed. He brought his face close. "You are just a mayfly. If I have to destroy you to save my planet, I won't hesitate."
Martha swallowed all traces of her fear and looked him in the eye. "I'm not afraid of you. I've been manhandled by better men than you and I'm still standing. They'll come for me."
The Caretaker gripped her chin and peered closely at the fading bruises on her face. "Maybe I did choose the wrong hostage. They can't care too much about you if they did this. Still, let's see if I can't make them care."
.
.
Jack gave up on the door after only a moment. It's not like it was merely locked, it was gone. There was not so much as a crack left to even attempt to pry open. He turned his attention to the Doctor, who still stood frozen in place.
"Hey!" Jack snapped his fingers in front of the Doctor's eyes. "Your friend needs you, so wake up and tell me everything you know about this nut job."
The Doctor's eyes focused on Jack. "Oh, it'd be so much easier if he were a nutter."
"So you know this 'Caretaker,'" Jack said.
"By reputation only," the Doctor answered. "He's a nurturer; renowned for his cultivated gardens. He can coax plants to grow in even the most hostile climes. Animals do not shy from him, much like your Francis of Assisi."
"So you're telling me a Gallifreyan saint has stolen aboard your TARDIS and taken Martha hostage," Jack said incredulously. "Doesn't sound like much of a saint to me."
"He's just found out his entire world, every man, woman, and child he cares for, every bird and beast, every plant he nurtured from a tiny seed is going to be destroyed. By me," the Doctor said. "I'm not surprised a man who cares so deeply for life is reacting badly."
"Well, don't let it distract you, Doctor. If you're gonna have a bleeding heart, have it for Martha. You know, your injured friend who's in the hands of a desperate psycho?" Jack pointed out.
The Doctor pierced Jack with a look but had no time to respond because just then they heard the com activate with a small burst of static. "Do you have anything to tell me, Doctor?" the Caretaker's voice drifted through.
"I've already told you, I can't," the Doctor said through gritted teeth.
"Not even for the sake of your little female?" he asked. There was a slight scuffling sound and then they heard a low moan. "Come on, woman, you have to do better than that," they heard him mutter. Then there was a sudden shriek that had the Doctor gripping Jack's shoulder.
"I'm sorry, Martha. I can't," the Doctor choked.
"Don't. Tell. Him. Anything!" Martha said breathlessly.
"Good girl," Jack praised under his breath.
"You've got twenty minutes to think about it, Doctor, and then I'm going to hurt her again. How long do you think your fragile human friend will last?" the Caretaker asked. The com cut out.
Jack looked at the Doctor. "You heard the man, we've got twenty minutes. Is there another way out of this kitchen?"
The Doctor opened a lower cupboard and began tossing pots and pans out on the floor with his sonic screwdriver clenched in his teeth.
"Seriously?" Jack asked.
The Doctor ripped out the middle shelf and climbed head and shoulders into the cabinet. He ran his sonic around the inner top of the cupboard, which swung down like a hatch.
Jack thought his eyes were going to pop out of his head as the Doctor climbed into the hatch and disappeared. There should have been nothing above that hatch but the kitchen counter and air, but the Doctor disappeared into it all the same.
The Doctor's head reappeared. "You coming?"
Jack shook his head and muttered, "I know, I know. It's bigger on the inside. I should be used to these relative dimensions by now." He followed the Doctor through the hatch and found himself in a long round tunnel. "Where are we?"
"We are in the inner workings of the TARDIS. Not just in the ship, but inside her biological structure. It's like the difference between holding a stone cupped in your hand and having a stone lodged in your hand," the Doctor explained as they crawled.
"Are we hurting her?" Jack asked, worried.
The Doctor gave a small smile at his friend's concern for his ship. "More like irritating her a bit, but she knows it's for a good cause. She'll try not to cough us up," he said. They crawled on.
"So where are we going?" Jack asked.
"We've got to get to the control room and undo whatever it is the Caretaker did," the Doctor answered. "This place is a giant maze otherwise, and we'll never be able to find them."
Jack thought of his Webley, stashed under the floor near the console. It'd be a relief to have it back, and right now he could think of an excellent use for it. "But how will we find the control room? If the Caretaker's taken over the layout controls, it could be anywhere," Jack said.
"The heart of the TARDIS is in the control room. The Caretaker may be able to rearrange the rooms, but her heart is a part of her physiology," the Doctor explained. "Do you hear that? It's her beating heart. We just need to follow that sound to the source."
Jack did hear a pulsing sound, now that his attention was drawn to it, but it seemed to come from everywhere. He hoped the Doctor's hearing was more precise than his.
.
.
Martha clutched at her knee and swallowed her moans of pain. She could still feel the imprint where the Caretaker had dug his fingers into her already injured knee and twisted. God, it was too soon. Too soon! Martha hadn't really even dealt with her feelings over being attacked by the Doctor when he'd been under the influence of an accidental dose of Phorillian Pollen.
And now here she found herself again, trapped with a man who intended her harm. There was no handy object this time for her to knock the Caretaker out. Aside from the bed, which seemed to her a threat unto itself, there wasn't even any other furniture. The bedroom appeared to be a spare that had never had the occasion to be used. No way to fight. Nowhere to run. The word 'trapped' echoed through Martha's head.
"Do you Time Lords just name yourself anything you please? Because you obviously didn't earn the title of Caretaker," Martha goaded.
She knew it was a foolish thing to do, but it was that or fall to pieces and she'd rather not give him the satisfaction. She had faith that the Doctor and Jack would find a way to get to her, and she'd rather still be standing tall, even if only metaphorically, when they saw her again.
The Caretaker trembled as he turned to face Martha.
.
.
.
Author's note: The next chapter's the last, but I'm hard at work on the next story. Thanks to everyone who reviewed the first chapter: sadhappygirl, angnay, and Nagini Potter.
