I meant to get this out yesterday for the first anniversary of Lis's death, but I, um, failed to compute the date. Possibly because I didn't find out until the 20th last year - 2am, precisely - and so my inner clock is out of whack. As always, many thanks for all your comments and support, and long live Sarah Jane...

Chapter Twelve

The muttering increased in volume as Sarah Jane cautiously opened the blue door and peered into the room beyond. She froze as the jumble of words suddenly coalesced into sense.

'That's what you want, isn't it?' her best friend shouted, his eyes wild. 'That's the whole reason you exist. And it's the best way to fix time,' he muttered. 'TAKE ME!' he bellowed. 'Kill me now, and get it over with!'

'No!' Sarah Jane expostulated as she flung herself across the room to him. 'Doctor, no!' All her fine words to River about a time for everything evaporated; the most important thing was keeping the Doctor alive.

The Doctor's eyes flickered in her direction, and when he flinched away from her, Sarah Jane felt as though she'd been punched in the stomach.

'Doctor,' she whispered pleadingly, 'Doctor, it's me.'

'This is another of your tricks, isn't it,' the Doctor demanded, the words falling over themselves in a delirious rush. 'Mind games. Well, I've had enough. Why won't you end it?' Again, his glare shot daggers into something unseen, and Sarah Jane felt a chill of fear prickle down her neck.

Carefully, she lowered herself next to him on the floor, maintaining a measurable distance between them. Equally carefully, she no longer sought eye contact.

'Is there someone – or something – else here?' she asked softly. 'Something I can't see?'

'There's always something you can't see, Sarah,' he said, sounding so unnervingly like his fourth self that she glanced up at him in surprise, but he wasn't looking at her.

She wondered if he really knew she was there; whether the use of her name was nothing more than a subconscious reflex.

That doubt was dispelled when a long, skinny arm shot into her field of vision, and a gasp escaped her lips at sight of the black marks scored all over it. A tally marked again and again.

Tentatively, she reached out a finger and traced those marks: four down strokes, one long diagonal one… 'What is this, Doctor?'

'A reminder,' he replied hoarsely. He snatched his arm back.

She kept her head turned down, but glanced towards him. 'A reminder of what?'

'Shhh!' the Doctor hissed, putting a finger on her lips. 'They'll hear you!'

That chill-prickle became a full-on shudder, and Sarah Jane resisted the temptation to move closer to him, to close the gap between them.

'Who?' she mouthed at him, daring to look at him properly.

'The Silence,' he mouthed back, meeting her eyes for the first time. 'They're everywhere… just watching. And waiting.'

'For what?' she whispered.

The Doctor gave her a sad smile, a smile that was too old for his young face. 'For me to die.'

'They'll have a long wait,' she retorted, a smile glimmering at the corners of her mouth.

He did not return it. 'They're determined. That's why they exist, to kill me.' The pain in his voice was so great that Sarah Jane's eyes filled with tears in response. 'Just think, Sarah. An entire religious order dedicated to killing me. Because I've become too dangerous.'

'How?' Sarah Jane demanded, indignation making her sit bolt upright, away from the support of the wall behind them. Fleetingly, she noticed multiple instances of the tally drawn there, inscribed with something darkly red and chalky, and she bit down on her lower lip. When the blood came, it seemed oddly appropriate.

His answer to her question made very little sense. It was a ramble about plains and falls and Elevens and questions that must never be answered, and her mind latched onto the one phrase she understood: the recurring mention of fixed points.

'Are you saying your death is a fixed point in time?'

'Apparently so.' He was no longer looking at her; he was back to staring into nothing...

'Are they still here?' she whispered.

The Doctor blinked. 'Who?'

Sarah Jane opened her mouth to reply, but the words vanished unspoken from the tip of her tongue, leaving a residue of uneasy frustruation.

She gave a nervous laugh. 'I can't remember. Ignore me, Doctor. I'm getting old.'

His gaze switched back to her and sharpened. 'No, it's not that. I've forgotten too, something important.' He frowned and looked down at himself, at his decorated arms. 'There's something I'm missing,' he murmured. He put a hand through the shaggy mop of hair that fell over his forehead, and looked unhappily at Sarah Jane. 'Why can't I remember?'

She could only shake her head and settle down beside him, the oppressiveness of this little room and its distracted occupant wearing her down. She shivered, even though the room was not cold - to the contrary, it was dry and bright, and modestly furnished.

Sarah Jane's brow wrinkled. 'Doctor, why are you being held here?'

He wasn't looking at her; his attention was focused on the palm of his hand.

'Doctor?' she repeated.

'It was the Silence,' he muttered without looking up. 'That's it, they want me dead, and they even trained their very own psychopath to do the deed...and she failed them.' He snorted. 'Typical.'

'River was trained by the Silence to kill you?' Sarah Jane asked, aghast. 'But she said she loved you!'

The Doctor's eyes turned thoughtful. 'I think it's more complex than that. River... she's not entirely human, you see.'

Now it was Sarah Jane's turn to snort. 'Good match for you, then.'

'Yes. It was designed that way. Clever, wasn't it? Quite brilliant, in fact. Give me a woman whom I find irresistible, a woman who combines human oddities with just enough Time Lord DNA to make us truly compatible... and turn her into my deadliest enemy. The woman who kills the Doctor.'

'But she didn't,' Sarah Jane pointed out, confused. 'You're still here, alive.'

'That was a mistake,' he responded, his eyes hard. 'That is why we're here now, that is why time has stopped! All because River, typical bloody River, didn't do as she was told!'

'You sound as if you're sorry she didn't kill you,' Sarah Jane commented tartly. 'Why do you need to die, anyway? Are fixed points in time really so immutable? I'm sure I've seen you play fast and loose with a few!'

'That was different,' he said indignantly and she rolled her eyes. 'No, really, it was. I was a maverick - still am - but there's some lines even I avoid crossing unless there's a good strong safety net - and back then, there was.'

'Gallifrey,' Sarah Jane said.

'I knew they'd fix it if I really messed up,' he said, affirming her interjection. His old grin flashed, the one that she still found strange, without all the teeth. 'But now... there's only me. The Silence managed to engineer events so that my death would occur at a time and place that would fix it indelibly into the time-space matrix. When River interfered, she tore the very fabric of time itself... and now all of history, everywhere and everywhen, is collapsing. It's only a matter of time before everything is lost.'

Sarah Jane was chewing her lip again, despair sinking slowly into her. When the Doctor put the situation so very plainly, so very bluntly, it was difficult if not impossible to hold onto her hope that perhaps, perhaps, his death could be averted.

'If you die, will everything return to where and when it was?'

'Yep. We're in a vacuum right now. All it will take restart things is for River and I to touch... and we'll find ourselves back on the shores of Lake Silencio.'

'And she'll be killing you,' Sarah Jane finished for him, proud that she'd managed to force the unpalatable words past the ache in her throat.

'It's the only way,' he asserted. 'There's no way out this time, Sarah Jane. It's my time. Isn't that what you told me, that day in Deffrey Vale? Everything ends.'

'I never thought it would apply to you,' she said. Her voice broke, and she turned her face away from him, not wanting him to see her tears.

He put a lanky arm around her shoulders and pulled her close. 'Don't cry, Sarah. You know I hate to see you cry. Please.'

A large, old-fashioned handkerchief that recalled Sarah Jane's first Doctor was thrust under her nose.

'Wipe up,' the Doctor ordered, trying and failing to sound brisk.

Sarah Jane accepted the hanky and wiped her eyes. As she regained control, her mind started ticking over, revolving ideas ranging from the ridiculous to the impossible in less time than it takes to tell. She'd had experience, after all. When she returned the damp piece of white linen to its owner, she was calm once more, and the Doctor had returned to his slumped position against the wall.

She examined him through her lashes, and relief surged through her. He looked … grim, resigned, and perhaps there was just a trace of petulance? That thought made her smile.

'You don't want to die, do you,' she stated flatly. 'No matter what you say. Well then, we'll just have to think of a way out of it!'

'What d'you think I've been doing, sitting here?' the Doctor demanded, the trace of petulance becoming tangible. 'Twiddling my thumbs? There is no other way, Sarah Jane!'

She permitted herself a wry smile. 'You only use my full name when I've made a point you're reluctant to admit has merit,' she told him. 'Come on, Doctor. Think. A Doctor needs to die at Lake Silencio at 5.02 on the 22nd of April, but does it need to be you?'

He raised an eyebrow in response. 'What, get one of my past or future selves to die in my stead? That's not very helpful.'

'And it wouldn't solve the real problem, would it,' Sarah Jane agreed with a sigh, her enthusiasm ebbing. 'You'd still be dead - "really most sincerely dead", as Sky as taken to saying ever since she watched The Wizard of Oz.'

He peered at her curiously. 'Who's Sky? Have you been taking in more waifs and strays?'

She shrugged. 'I learned from the best. Never mind Sky, you'll meet her soon enough if we can get out of this.' She chewed on a thumb nail, an old habit that she deplored but which always popped up in moments of stress.

The Doctor's head fell back against the wall, his hair flopping forward over his forehead. It was a ridiculously boyish look, but Sarah Jane thought it did not suit this incarnation as well as it had done his predecessor…

'You asked if it needed to be me at Lake Silencio,' the Doctor said, interrupting her admittedly maudlin thoughts. 'And maybe it doesn't. If - Eureka, I've got it!'

His face lit up from within, chasing away the grimness that all too often inhabited those raw features in repose. 'Sarah Jane Smith, you're a genius! The Teselecta! Yes!' He jumped to his feet and punched the air, before beginning to march up and down his 'cell', muttering all the while.

Sarah Jane watched him, satisfied. This was familiar muttering, vigorous and purposeful; it signified that the Doctor had a plan, and she had no doubt he would find a way to carry it out.

Her confidence was validated when he said, 'Rory!' and turned sharply on his heel, marching towards the door. He grinned at Sarah Jane. 'Tardis blue an' all, yeah? Yeah.' He began to bang the door. 'Oi, Roman Boy, open up. I want a word with you.'

'You can't talk to a member of the Emperor's guard like that!' Sarah Jane remonstrated, albeit with some amusement. 'Bees and honey, Doctor - and a foot in the door when that fails.'

The Doctor's grin turned wicked. 'Don't you worry, Sarah. This isn't any old Roman, y'know. This is Rory, the Last Centurion. He doesn't know it, but he's married to one Amelia Pond. Once he remembers her, he'll move heaven and earth to get to her. He always does.'

At that point Rory's head popped in through the door. 'Are you well, Dom- oh.'

'Yes, "oh",' the Doctor agreed cheerfully. He yanked the door away from Rory's grip, and steadied him as he flew into the room. 'Steady on. No need to brain yourself.'

Rory looked helplessly towards Sarah Jane. 'Domina?'

'My name is Sarah Jane,' the owner of the name told him firmly as she rose to her feet. 'For goodness sake, use it. And sit down. The Doctor has a plan.'

'"Doctor"?' Rory repeated warily. He did not sit down; in fact, he was edging back towards the door, as if hoping he could make a run for it.

Sarah Jane went to him and smiled up at him, hoping she could re-establish their earlier bond. 'Rory, we need your help. You heard Wins - the Emperor. He wants to fix time, and the Doctor's the only one who can do it - one way or another.'

Rory's gaze switched from Sarah Jane to the Doctor and back. His hands clenched and relaxed and clenched again: a sign of nerves, Sarah Jane thought, her heart sinking.

And the Doctor wasn't helping. He was muttering again, and with his wild hair and unkempt clothes, Sarah Jane found that she could not blame Rory for his hesitation.

Then the Roman soldier lifted his head and squared his shoulders. His gaze was calm and steady, belying the nervous twitch at one side of his mouth. 'What do you need me to do?'

TBC