Hi guys! Thanks so much for the feedback so far. Yall are so sweet! 3
Oh and sorry for the delay, hehe. I'm a bit of a space case. so distracted by everything! .
Anyways, enjoy! xx
oh! and see if you can guess all the references in this chapter. Winner who gets them all gets...um...cupcakes? affection?
Rory came home to find Amy on the couch, a glass of wine only half full in her hand. She was already dressed in her pajamas, her hair tied up in a loose bun and a blanket draped over her legs and torso. All the lights were off and an old movie from the 40's was on the television. She didn't look amused by it. Her lips pursed slightly as she sipped on her drink, her eyes glued to the television as a man and a woman were flailing around dramatically, running from the police.
Rory slipped off his coat and kicked off his shoes in the hall closet before walking back to the living room. He looked down at his girlfriend expectantly, the copper-haired woman looking back up at him.
"What?"
Rory folded his skinny arms and stared at her expectantly, "You mind telling me what that was tonight?"
Amy's eyes flicked from side to side, her brows furrowing. "What was what?"
"You, and the Doctor," He answered as he took a seat next to her, "He said something about 'the girl who waited', and you got upset."
He watched as his girlfriend's pretty face went from confused to upset within seconds. Her lips pursed and she looked away, shaking her head.
"It's nothing,"
"It's not nothing," He insisted, "It really upset you. Why?"
He listened as Amy let out a deep huff and set her glass aside. She shifted in her seat a little to turn and look at him, her green eyes firm and intent.
"Do you know why he's in there?" She asked, "Why he was sent to the hospital in the first place?
Rory furrowed and shook his head no, watching as her lips curled and her throat bob as she swallowed. She hesitated for a few seconds before opening her mouth.
"He tried to kill his wife," She admitted, "Only a couple months after they lost their first child, he tried to shoot his wife in the head..."
The news hit him like a ton of bricks. He blinked at her a few times, his mouth going slightly ajar in complete shock of what he had just heard.
"Thankfully, he managed to miss," She assured him, "But he promised her he'd be back in five minutes to kill her. He went out, and he didn't come back."
Rory's voice caught in his throat as he tried process what she had just said. Did he hear her right? No. He couldn't have. The Doctor? The man who got excited over wall cracks and toy police boxes, he was a killer? He tried to kill his own wife. She was so sweet though, and The Doctor was so...timid. He couldn't imagine there being a violent bone in his body.
"Wh...Where did he go?" Rory asked, watching Amy as she reached over and grabbed her wine glass.
"He went to burn down a car...with someone inside it," She admitted lowly, taking a hearty gulp of her drink, "The police found him in the graveyard the next morning. He was just standing in front of a gravestone, just starin' at it...not moving a muscle..."
Rory's eyes lowered to the blanket on Amy's lap. He could just picture it: The Doctor looking all raggedy and disturbed as he stood in front of a gravestone. He could picture his green eyes all dull and lifeless, a red gas can sitting loyally at his side, a gun firmly placed in his right hand. He wouldn't say a word, or move a muscle. He would just...stand there.
A cold terror shot up and down his spine for a second. He quickly shook his head, ridding his mind of the terrifying image.
"W...Well, why is he in here with all of us?" He asked her, "He sounds criminally insane."
"I don't know," She replied honestly, shrugging with a sigh, "Saxon said testing proved that he was fit to be with others...Says he had a 'mental blackout'...something to do with the loss of his daughter. Apparently he's improved significantly since then..."
A scoff couldn't help but escape the lanky brunette's lips,
"Still mad as a hatter though..." He muttered.
"Yeah but not a violent hatter," Amy remarked, folding her arms. She let out a small sigh and leaned forward, letting her body gently rest itself onto Rory's. He gently wrapped his arms around her and held her close, kissing the top of her head as she snuggled into his frame.
"I just feel bad for him," She sighed honestly, her eyes fluttering shut, "He seems so lost...So committed to his own little world..."
Rory continued to rub her arm lovingly as she started drifting to sleep. As the night went on, Rory tried to get comfortable on the couch, but the image of the Doctor kept running through his mind. He couldn't fathom how the man must have felt. Scared, he thought. Scared as he woke up and realized that a bullet he fired had almost killed the one he loved.
Then again, maybe he didn't feel scared.
Maybe he didn't feel a single thing.
Maybe the Doctor wasn't this delusional, lost, childish man with a passion for sci-fi. Maybe he really was a killer, a dark, psychotic killer who was only putting up a front. That very idea sent another cold terror through his veins. He couldn't fathom the Doctor being so dark like that. The Doctor, the guy who got excited over something as little as staying up an extra 15 minutes, a homicidal maniac? There was just no way...
The Doctor laid in bed the next morning, quietly toying with his sonic screwdriver while Rory sat on the bed across from him. He read off the itinerary for today's field trip to the museum. First was the dinosaurs, then ancient Egypt, then lunch, and finally the Pompeii exhibit. Chances were they were going to head out for ice cream afterwards, but only if all went well.
Rory started reading off the checklist for hats and mittens, looking over at the Doctor from time to time. The lanky man continued to lay in bed, just staring at his little toy flashlight without saying a single word. He seemed completely at peace and lost in thought.
The nurse still had a hard time seeing him as a violent man.
He didn't seem like the type who was willing to kill his wife and burn someone alive in their own car. All he could see was a man with a child-like sense of wonder. A man who dreamed of spaceships and aliens and magic blue boxes.
Rory looked down at his binder and continued to read, stopping when he was suddenly interrupted by a slew of nurses running and chattering down the hall. Both boys looked over at the open bedroom door as Mickey stopped just in front of it. He turned and stared in with wide eyes over at Rory.
"Mate, we're gonna need help bringin' someone in!" He let out, bolting off like a rocket down the hall. Rory quickly slid out of bed and stepped forward, stopping momentarily before turning around. He repeated this a couple times in confusion before pointing to the Doctor and going, "Stay here, alright?"
The Doctor grunted a small "hm" as Rory rushed out all flustered and confused. He continued to hear voices chattering passionately, instructions being yelled out left and right. The Doctor's eyebrow quirked upward. Someone important was coming in.
That, or someone truly insane and a terrible handful.
He could hear muffled voices and radio talk coming from outside. He set down his screwdriver and slipped out of bed, walking over to the window and pulling the curtain aside. He watched through the chicken wire as three cops and a whole group of nurses carted along a skinny man with shaggy grey hair and a thin face. He wore a fitted black and white suit that was brushed with dirt on the shoulder and knee area. He squirmed a little in their grip, but obediently walked along with a smug grin on his face.
As the man and his entourage of cops and nurses disappeared behind the front door, the Doctor quickly walked over to his bedroom door and shut it slightly, watching through a thin opening as they brought the patient inside.
"Mornin' my little chicks and cocks!" The man chirped, a smile on his face as the nurses let him go and helped him shed his coat, "Ahhhh it's good to be home, innit? I missed this place!"
The Doctor watched through the crack in his door as the lanky man in the distressed black and white suit smiled and beamed at all the patients. All of them herded around and watched with child-like smiles on their faces, some of them groaning and chirping in excitement. The Police removed the cuffs off his wrists and the patient held his arms out obediently, letting the male nurses frisk him up and down.
"Careful of the goods down there, darlings," He chuckled with raised brows. His eyes scanned around the room, falling briefly onto the Doctor, the lanky brunette retreating back slightly as he cracked the door shut a little more. He peered through the small sliver of space between the door and the frame, watching as the suited patient straightened his clothes and his posture. He turned to face a surly blonde nurse who was watching him with folded arms,
"Aye, Wully," He whistled over to William, "Get me a coffee, will ya? And a cigarette too, yeah? Fuckin' gaspin' in here."
The Doctor's eyes widened slightly at the slim man with the thick Scottish accent. His big blue-green eyes flicked over to the Doctor's door again, and The Doctor retreated a little more. He watched as the Patient turned towards Amy. The red haired girl walked up to him with her usual scolding look on her face. The patient didn't seemed phased by it in the least. He actually seemed pleased.
"Ah, Ginger Minge, ya miss me?" He chirped, giving her a snide grin. Amy's lips only pursed.
"Where were you, Malcolm?"
"Here, there, fuckin' everywhere Darlin'. I'm the egg man," He laughed as he held his arms out. He let his arms fall before pointing a thumb over at Dr. Jones, "What's all this I'm hearin' 'bout a field trip? Martha said somethin' 'bout a fuckin' shin-dig goin' on downtown."
"You are not going anywhere," She said firmly, "The others are going on a field trip to the museum."
"Oh, well I love a good museum―"
The Doctor jolted back as his door was suddenly pushed open, the hard wood hitting him in the nose. He stumbled back in shock as Rory stepped through with wide and confused eyes.
"Oh! Bollocks―I-I mean, shoot," He let out frantically, stepping forward and staring at the patient, "Are you alright, Doctor?"
The lanky brunette rubbed his nose for a moment before smiling at the flustered nurse.
"I'm fine Rory, just fine," He assured, "Who was that who just came in with the police?"
Rory turned briefly towards the door.
"I'm...not really sure," He hesitated, turning around to face the Doctor, "A-A runaway, apparently. His name is Malcolm I think? Malcolm..."
"Warren," The Doctor finished. He sat back down on the bed and laid flat across it, "Malcolm Warren, my new face."
Rory furrowed at him, "Wait, what?"
"He's number twelve, Rory," The Doctor insisted, turning his head and staring blankly over at his bedroom door, "He's the twelfth one. My 12th self."
Rory shook his head and took a step forward, "Doctor, what on earth are you―"
The door suddenly pushed open again and the suited man walked through, Amy right behind him with a frustrated look on her face.
"Malcolm!"
"Give us a minute would you please, love," He said coolly, shutting the door right in her face.
Rory turned around sharply and stared right into the stern face of a man who looked ready to kill. He looked about his mid 50's, wrinkles only really visible around his piercing eyes. His brows were shaped in the form of an almost permanent frown. His entire aura radiated power and intimidation, a force to be reckoned with. He didn't look like a physical fighter, not like some of the more surly looking guards and nurses over at maximum security. He looked like a manipulator, someone who could use words to tear a person from the inside out.
Malcolm's piercing blue-green eyes looked Rory over for a minute before looking over towards the Doctor. The lanky brunette stared back at him with wary eyes as he sat up on the bed.
"Nice seein' ya 'gain, Doctor," Malcolm greeted through his glaswegian accent. He pointed a finger over at Rory, smiling earnestly, "Got yourself a new fluffer, aye?"
He let out a hearty scoff, his eyes crinkling as he smiled. The Doctor's lips pursed a little as he stood up off the bed,
"That's Rory, Malcolm. My new companion,"
The lanky man raised his brows and stared over at the nurse.
"Oh, another one," He said in pleasant surprise, "Jesus, they just keep comin', don't they? Got enough first year nursing school goons here to stage a fuckin' scrubs drama."
"Malcolm!" Amy called out, pushing the door open and stepping through. She stopped as Malcolm threw and arm in her direction, holding his hand out and signaling for her to stop.
"Not the time love! We're busy, fuck off."
"Rory, Doctor, you guys can start gathering your things," She spoke out over the suited patient. The Doctor nodded and looked over at Rory with a weak smile.
"I'm sorry about Malcolm," The Doctor muttered, his eyes flicking over to Malcolm as the man pointed a stern finger at him.
"Hay, don't apologize for me, apologize for yourself," He asserted, turning and looking over towards Amy, "Did I not just tell you to fuck off and yet you're still here?"
"Yes, Malcolm, I'm still here," The redhead huffed irately. Malcolm snapped his fingers and pointed over to Rory.
"Hay! Fetus boy," He called out, turning and facing the startled nurse, "Lesson one: I tell ya to fuck off, what do you do?"
The lanky nurse took a small step back and looked from Amy to the Doctor. All eyes were pointed on him, and all he wanted to do currently was hide and/or get away from Malcolm. Still, the man's piercing eyes were on the Nurse's, making him feel smaller and smaller by the second. One wrong answer, Rory thought, and the guy would certainly tear into him.
"F..." He paused, taking a hesitant breath before looking over to Malcolm with wide eyes, "E-Eff off?"
The 55 year old raised his brows in surprise, seemingly pleased with the nurse's answer as he nodded.
"You'll go far," He pointed a thumb over towards the door, "Alright, now fuck off."
Rory took a step forward before Amy held her hand out, stopping him where he stood.
"Malcolm, leave him alone," She said firmly, turning her head and shouting towards the hall, "Mickey!"
"Alright, alright!" Malcolm let out quickly, "Jesus, what's got everyone's knickers twisted?!"
"You've been gone for two weeks, what do you think?!" Amy argued.
"Ay! I only left because lanky gay stacks over here was threatenin' to kill himself!" Malcolm let out, tossing a finger over in the Doctor's direction.
The Doctor instantly dropped his sonic screwdriver on the floor. The metal contraption fell to the ground with a loud thud, a piece of it breaking off and disappearing under the bed. He stood there frozen, his green eyes staring intensely at his 12th regeneration. His throat clamped up, his hearts raced a mile a minute, their beats doing nothing to overpower the sound of drums in his head.
Amy looked over at the Doctor, watching as his shaky hands gripped the hems of his tweed jacket.
"You want to kill yourself?" She asked slowly, trying to calm her shaking voice. The Doctor didn't look at her. He just kept his eyes on Malcolm, and Malcolm kept his eyes on the Doctor.
"...No," The Doctor said plainly.
"Oh, like fuckin' hell!" Malcolm barked suddenly, "Ya said to me ya wanted to die so you could regenerate, ya fuckin' tosser! Said I had to leave, didn't ya!"
"You want to kill yourself?!" Amy repeated, her voice louder, more desperate.
"No!" The Doctor retorted, "I mean I-I did, a-at one poi―"
"Why didn't you tell me?!" She bit over at Malcolm.
"Why the fuck would I tell you about it, I've told ya to fuck off twice and yet you're still here!" Malcolm shouted.
"You should tell me if a patient you know is suicidal so I can help them!" Amy yelled.
"I'm not anymore! I'm not!" The Doctor let out desperately, "Malcolm!"
"Please!" Malcolm retorted, ignoring the Doctor's voice as he eyed Amy bitterly, "Yer probably the reason why he wants ta, the way ya baby him all the fuckin' time! Makes me wanna off myself just thinkin' about it!"
The Doctor put his hands to his ears as the banging grew louder. Louder and louder as the voices melded together in one loud, all-encompassing, irritating, maddening noise. He shut his eyes for a moment before opening them, staring at the figure that loomed behind Amy as she and Malcolm continued to argue. She didn't see it. Malcolm didn't see it. Rory, the one getting between the two, didn't see it. It was right there, tall and skinny with a large head and pale skin. He wore suit similar to Malcolm's. Just like it. The creature growled and tilted his pale bulbous head, it's sunken eyes staring directly at the Doctor.
You should kill them all on sight.
The Doctor screwed his eyes shut, pressing his hands harder against his ears as he opened his mouth.
"MALCOLM SHUT UP!" He screamed out, making everyone in the room jump practically a mile high.
"HEY!" A loud voice suddenly barked out.
All four of them whipped around to see Dr. Harkness stepping up to the doorway, his face stern and angry as he made eye contact with each of them, "What the hell is going on in here?! Huh?!"
Amy opened her mouth to speak when a body suddenly clashed into her own. The Doctor had rushed over and suddenly taken her into a tight hug, pressing his face firmly in the crook of her neck.
"Amelia please," He whispered, sharply, "Please don't. Please. I don't want to die anymore, I promise. I want to go outside. I want to go outside..."
"Rory?" Dr. Harkness asked, turning to look over at the disoriented nurse. Rory put a hand to his forehead for a minute before pointing a thumb over at Malcolm.
"W-Well...uh...he..." His mouth clamped shut at the piercing glare he was getting from the suited patient. Malcolm looked about ready to reach over and rip out his throat.
The American Doctor sighed sharply through his nose and turned his attention towards his best nurse.
"Amy?" He asked out expectantly.
"Please..." The Doctor begged quietly, holding his companion tighter as she gently patted his back.
"Malcolm was upsetting him," She replied. The young doctor nodded in understanding, looking over to the suited patient currently eyeing daggers at a fearful Rory.
Malcolm, head to your room, He said in a more calm yet firm tone, "...Now, please."
Malcolm continued to eye Rory as he tore away and stepped out of the room. Dr. Harkness and three male nurses escorted him down the hall, leaving Rory, Amy, and The Doctor alone in The Doctor's bedroom. Rory let out a shaky sigh and ran a trembling hand through his hair, letting out a 'bloody hell' under his breath.
"Tell me I won't have to look after him too," He breathed, scoffing lightly at the idea of juggling the task of keeping him and the Doctor in check. He turned his head and stared over at Amy and the Doctor, the two of them still hugging each other tight like their lives depended on it. She ran a comforting hand through his hair once before breaking away, taking a step back to look at him.
"Promise me," She said firmly, staring him in the eyes, "Swear that you'll tell Saxon after this trip."
The Doctor nodded lightly, his head dipping as he looked down at his boots, "...I swear."
"Swear on something that matters, John Smith," She demanded, staring at him firmly as he lifted his head to look at her. A faint, warm smile appeared on his lips, his eyes full of fondness as he nodded lightly,
"Fish fingers and custard," He said to her. Amy's eyebrows twitched a little before she furrowed, a snicker escaping her lips before she shook her head.
"You're so weird," She giggled lightly, sniffling and wiping her nose before straightening out her scrub top, "Alright, let's you ready for the field trip, yes? You got your mittens and hat?"
The Doctor seemed to light up instantly, beaming and nodding as he fumbled through his pockets. He pulled out his hat and gloves and waved them in front of her, earning a laugh as she swatted them away.
"Okay, okay. Go out in the hall and ask nurse Astrid for your scarf,"
"The one Idris made me?" The Doctor asked, the grin on his face growing wider as Amy nodded,
"Yeah, that ridiculously long and colorful one," She chirped, patting his shoulder lightly, "Go on now, hurry."
The Doctor nodded and darted off like a bullet. Out of the room he went and shot down the hall towards the Nurses Station, leaving Amy and Rory in the room alone. Rory straightened out his scrub top as well and took a step forward, stepping up to Amy and holding her as she looked down in sadness.
"Hey," He muttered, earning a look from her as she lifted her head, "Smile. It's gonna be okay, yeah?"
She struggled a small smile as she nodded, her hand gently latching onto his top and gripping it.
"Yeah.." She let out quietly, "Just...Promise me you'll watch him like a hawk while you're there, okay?"
"I will," He promised firmly, looking into her green eyes, "Are you going to report this?"
He watched as Amy gave him a firm nod, her lips pursing.
"I have to," She replied honestly, "It doesn't matter if he's okay today. Tomorrow, he might not be..."
She let out a small sigh and once again her green eyes fell to the floor.
"...You never really know with him," She muttered.
"Keep up, Rory!" The Doctor chirped, pointing his sonic screwdriver every which way.
"Doctor! Stay with the group, alright?!" One of the head nurses called out.
"I got him," Rory assured. He rushed over and followed the Doctor closely as he jumped up on benches and ledges, carefully walking across them with both his arms out. Rory watched as the Doctor's scarf trailed after him, picking up various leaves and twigs along with it. Amy wasn't joking, that scarf really was ridiculously long. The Doctor explained that it belonged to his fourth self, whatever that meant. Mickey had told him that Idris and her mother used all the wool in their baskets to knit it. That explained the insane length and odd choice of color and pattern. Still, the Doctor seemed ecstatic to be wearing it again, and despite how odd it looked, Rory thought it suited him well. It was eccentric, just like he was.
"We don't let the patients wear scarves on the hospital grounds," Mickey mentioned as they walked alongside the stone wall on the sidewalk, "Some of 'em try to make nooses and hang themselves."
Rory shot him a surprised look and the man merely shrugged,
"I know it's a dark thing to say, but since you're new to this branch, I thought it best you know," He remarked, his eyes darting up towards the ledge, "A lot of the patients here are going to try and take advantage of you, in attempts to get special privileges..."
Rory's eyes followed Mickey's and they pointed over to the Doctor, the man now spinning and singing a random showtune. He pointed his sonic screwdriver towards a large stone building and he let out a hearty, "Museum, ho!"
"John, down from ledge, alright?!" Mickey called, "Come join the others for a head count!"
The Doctor leaped down from the ledge and landed without faltering. He quickly rushed over to the small of group of patients, getting in line with the others as five nurses and Dr. Jones quickly surrounded them. Astrid called their names off one by one while Mickey did a head count. Rory watched as some of the patients rocked and groaned, some jumping up and down in excitement. The Doctor stood loyally next to Wilfred, pointing his sonic screwdriver at the old man's wooly knitted hat. The old man didn't seem to mind one bit. He just stared straight ahead without saying a word.
"Rory!" Mickey's voice called, snapping the young nurse out of his thoughts. Rory turned his head sharply towards Mickey, watching as the lean man held his arms out alongside the group of patients. Rory mimicked his actions and walked alongside the group, keeping the line together and in an organized fashion as they were lead through a special entryway. Four of the patients hated being stuck in a big crowd for too long, and all the excitement that usually came with going through the front would just get them upset.
"Alright everyone, listen carefully!" The head nurse called over the patients' excited howls and groans, "Class B patients, you'll go with a designated nurse! Class A patients will stick together as a group!"
Rory watched as Mickey and an another male nurse divided up the group. Class B patients appeared to be the more independent ones, such as the Doctor, Alise, and Jenny. The Class A 's were the ones like Georgia and Thom, diagnosed with developmental disorders that needed constant chaperoning and guidance. Rory watched as Class B boiled down to three members while Class A was awarded with five. The Doctor walked up to Rory, pushing Wilfred along in his wheelchair. The young nurse shook his head with a sigh. Wilfred was in Class A.
"Doctor—"
"Astrid said it was okay!" The Doctor interrupted, looking down at the elderly man in the wheelchair, "Isn't that right, Wilf? What do you want to see first? "
The elderly man didn't answer. His light blue eyes simply remained forward, looking onward and off into space. Rory looked over to Astrid and watched as she gave him a brief thumbs up before tending to her group. The lanky nurse let out another light sigh before shaking his head in defeat.
"A-Alright," He spoke, "But let's just try to stick with the―"
"Idris works here," The Doctor interrupted suddenly. He began pushing Wilfred along, Rory scuttling along beside him as they headed down the hall, "My wife, she's a curator."
"Really," Rory chirped in genuine curiosity. The Doctor nodded, turning his head from side to side to occasionally look at all the displays.
"She was studying to be an archaeologist," He brought up, Rory furrowing slightly at his sudden change in tone, "But then she got pregnant with Susan..."
The Nurse looked at him and watched as his lips pursed and his throat bobbed as he swallowed. And that made him worry. Something was wrong. He opened his mouth to speak, but it was cut short when the Doctor suddenly looked over and leaped up, shouting a hearty "Doctor!" Rory jumped at The Doctor's sudden burst of energy, and started to grow flustered as he ran off towards an older man standing in front of a french painting. The man looked over at John Smith and smiled brightly as he held out his arms, taking the patient in for a friendly hug and a pat on the back. The man The Doctor seemed to know had silver, curly hair and wore a thick sweater vest with an interesting pattern all over it. He had a hook nose and bright eyes that seemed to grow unusually large as he talked.
The nurse pushed Wilfred along on the wheelchair and stepped up beside his patient during the peak of their conversation. The Doctor turned around and looked at Wilfred, smiling and holding a hand out in his direction.
"And look who I brought to see you," He announced.
"Ah! Wilfred!" The old man said in pleasant surprise, "So good to see you, mate. You're looking much better." He smiled and took Wilfred's limp, wrinkled hand, giving it a gentle shake before looking back over at Rory. The young Nurse receded a little, suddenly feeling small under his intense stare. The old man simply smiled and held out his hand for the nurse to take.
"Baker is the name, Thomas Baker, curator here," He gave Rory a firm handshake, the Doctor beaming brightly as he put a hand on the curator's shoulder.
"Rory, this is my fourth self," He introduced, looking back at the elderly man, "Thomas, is Idris here? Wilfred wants to say hello."
"Oh, w-why yes, she's over by the Pompeii display this evening, leading a small tour," He answered, turning and pointing towards the other room. The lanky brunette man smiled and gave The curator a friendly pat on the shoulder before leaving. He pushed Wilfred ahead on the wheelchair and brought him along to the Pompeii exhibit, Rory following close behind him. The young nurse stumbled over his feet a little as he stepped up next to the Doctor, his mind slightly wandering after catching glimpses of all the exhibit's wares and artifacts on display. There was so much to see, and he was almost tempted to walk off and look at it, but he knew better. Leave John Smith alone, and you'd have him up on a rooftop somewhere, shouting at imaginary aliens.
"Darling, what are you doing here?" A soft voice chirped, bringing Rory out from his daze. The Nurse blinked a few times and watched as a woman with brown hair and a pretty face came walking up to them. Her face was etched with worry as she walked up to John, her hand lovingly gripping onto a loose end of his scarf as he grinned at her.
"I'm on a field trip," He answered, smiling as he gave her a quick peck on the cheek, "It's so good to see you, darling. You've met Wilfred, yeah?"
She turned and looked down at the man in the wheelchair, giving him a warm and genuine smile. "Hello, Wilfred."
"Oh! And this is Rory," The Doctor chirped, "Handsome Rory. Rory Pond."
The Nurse stammered a little before smiling and holding out his hand,
"H―Hello...Wait, No, Doctor, I'm not a Pond," He said, shaking his head rapidly, "I'm Williams, Rory Williams."
Still, the woman smiled, showing a little bit of teeth as she shook his hand. "It's nice to meet you, Rory."
"This is my wife Idris, and isn't she stunning?" The Doctor looked at her, his smile bright and full of love, "Absolutely marvelous."
"John, please," She giggled, shyly brushing some hair behind her ear before turning back to the small group of students, "I'm running a tour right now, but I can meet you for lunch out on the patio if you like."
"Oh! Yes, yes, yes, I forgot," The Doctor replied, nodding excitedly before gushing, "My brilliant wife, molding young minds, shaping them for a better future..."
He leaned in and gave her another peck on the cheek, and Idris smiled and re-wrapped the long ends of his scarf around his shoulders. She bid the three of them goodbye and returned to her tour group, escorting them along to another room. After they disappeared, Rory took Wilfred along and together they looked at all the display cases in the room. The Doctor obediently sat on the bench in the center, fidgeting with the frayed ends of his scarf. His bright eyes stayed glued to the painting in front of him. "Salome receives the Head of John the Baptist" by Caravaggio. He was so focused on the image itself, he didn't even notice that someone had taken a seat down right next to him.
"Beautiful work, isn't it?" He heard the man beside him say, "Though looking at it. always makes me feel a bit melancholy..."
The Doctor didn't move a muscle, his eyes still on the painting, focusing on the extreme details and the strong contrasting colors of light and dark.
"What are you doing here?" He asked, his tone of voice low.
"I came to see Art," The man replied simply.
"You've seen it, now leave," The Doctor bit.
"Is that anyway to talk to a friend?" The man asked him, his tone sickeningly smooth, and sounding anything but wounded.
"You're not my friend, you're my enemy," The Doctor stated, listening as the man beside him scoffed.
"Even better,"
The Doctor turned his head to look at him, his muscles tightening at the sight of the Master's snide grin.
"What do you want?"
"I want you to quit this charade and go back," He answered simply, tearing his eyes away from the painting to look at the Time Lord, "Go back to how you really are."
"No," The brunette bit, shaking his head firmly and going back to looking at the painting.
"You still have unfinished business," The Master assured, turning in his seat to face him,"Don't you want to get rid of the noise?"
"No more than I want to get rid of you," The Doctor seethed.
The Master frowned and tutted at him.
"Hurtful words, Doctor,I'm protecting you," His eyes flicked over to the entryway to the other room, Idris on the other side pointing to a series of paintings, "...I'm protecting her..."
The Doctor's green eyes looked over to Idris, and he could feel the anger rising within him. Liquid heat rushing through his veins at the very thought of any harm coming to her by the Master's hand.
"Stay away from her," He warned.
"Or what?" The Master asked, watching as The Doctor looked back at the painting,
"...Or I'll kill you,"
The Master gave him an impish grin and leaned forward, his lips only inches away from the Doctor's ear,
"That is no way to speak to your master,"
The Doctor whipped his head around and shot him a nasty look, "You're not my master!"
Rory jumped and quickly pulled his hand off The Doctor's shoulder, having shook him only slightly to get him out of whatever trance he was in. He had been staring at the painting for a whole three minutes without blinking—he was just about to call Mickey over and ask what he should do. The nurse watched as the patient's eyes grew wide and he shot straight up off his seat, adjusting his jacket and clearing his throat.
"Doctor," Rory said slowly, "Are...You alrig—"
"Yes!—Rory, yes, sorry. Sorry about that," He let out a nervous laugh and smiled, patting the nurse on the shoulder and ignoring how he flinched. Rory quickly collected himself and cleared his own throat, gripping on the handles of Wilfred's wheelchair.
"W-Well, we still have time to see a few more exhibits," He stammered, looking down at his watch before looking back at the Doctor, "Anything you wanted to see?"
The Doctor nodded lightly and pointed to his right—Down the hall and over towards the Roman statues standing on either side in front of a giant archway.
"Let's go to Pompeii, you two,"