Chapter 20
UNIT Headquarters, South America
Lima, Peru
June 2009
The still form on the bed slowly opened his eyes, wishing that he hadn't the moment light reached them. The Doctor couldn't remember feeling so awful in what seemed like centuries - probably was, actually - and, for a moment, wondered why he felt the way he did. Doing a quick assessment of his condition brought it all back in glaring clarity. Faux Shining Path guerilla, a nasty cliff and a long fall down, a long hike to rescue Alistair and Sam... It was a wonder that he had become conscious at all. And where was he anyway? The white walls of the room he was in, coupled with the medical equipment attached to him gave him the answer. A hospital. He groaned slightly at the thought. The last time he was in an Earth hospital, he'd had a severe heart attack brought on by the humans defibrillating him. He really didn't want to go through that again.
"I see you're awake at last," came a sonorous, tired, and familiar voice from his right.
The Doctor turned his head towards the Brigadier. "Where..." he started, stopping when he noticed that his mouth was dry.
"UNIT Base. Hospital."
"You took me to a hospital?" the Time Lord questioned with incredulity. Immediately, he pushed back the blanket that was covering him and attempted to sit up, crying out at the sudden pain that shot through the right side of his chest and his left collarbone.
"Yes. For that very reason. You have broken bones, man. Now I know you're not quite the same as us, but bones are bones. Add that to the internal bleeding and general fatigue... the hospital was the right place for you."
"Like hell it is," came the angered response. The alien struggled to finish sitting up and turned to pull his legs over the side. Noticing that the wires leading from him to the equipment was in the way, he immediately pulled them out, including the IV feeding his body saline, causing alarms to sound.
"What the hell are you doing?" Alistair complained, moving forward. "I know you're ill but really, Doctor."
The older man who looked much younger than his friend took a deep breath. "Alistair... I need the TARDIS," he told him bluntly as a nurse rushed in, responding to the alarms.
"Doctor, you need to get back in bed," she ordered, moving to help him do just that.
Despite their entreats, the Gallifreyan slipped from the nurse's hold and onto his feet, wobbling as he did so. "Blimey, when did the Earth move so much?"
Alistair blinked as he heard the Time Lord ask for his usually present TARDIS. He knew it was the way that the Doctor moved from one point in time to the other. "This isn't the time to take a cruise. You need to get better first. Doris says everything is as you left it."
"Brigadier..." the Doctor breathed, grimacing tightly while clinging to the railing of his bed to maintain his normally perfect balance. "If I don't get to the TARDIS within the next couple of hours, it's very likely that you'll be witness once again to my change of appearance. And that is something I really really don't want to go through any time soon. I need my TARDIS. I need her," he emphasized. He frowned for a moment. "And a wheelchair. And my trousers. Where are my clothes?"
"Why would your ship have anything to do with your regeneration?" Alistair asked before indicating to the nurse to retrieve the transportation device.
The nurse hesitated to obey but, given her instructions to follow the retired Brigadier's orders to the letter, she quickly went to go do as she was told.
The Doctor glowered at his friend. "Do you want me to regenerate?"
"Of course not," Alistair declared emphatically. "I just don't understand what one has to do with the other."
The Time Lord groaned in frustration. "I forgot how stubborn you can be." Finding his clothing folded on a nearby table, he reached out and grabbed his trousers.
Sir Alistair, knowing that the Gallifreyan wasn't likely to stop dressing despite his injuries, helped the Doctor by holding him up. "Why in heaven would asking a question be considered stubborn?" he asked as he assisted his friend. The nurse pushed the requested wheelchair into the room. "After all, if I wasn't planning to take you to the TARDIS, I wouldn't have agreed to get your mode of transportation."
The Gallifreyan considered his response for a long moment. "You got me there," he admitted. Deciding that putting on his trousers was far too painful an excursion, the Doctor voted not to put on the rest of his clothes, slipping his trainers unlaced on his feet.
"Quite." Alistair watched as the nurse helped the off-balance man sit himself in the wheelchair. Afterwards he asked the nurse to call the motor pool to have a Hummer meet them at the hospital entrance. "And send an intern to help us down."
"Sir," the nurse protested, "I can't allow the patient to be taken off base without authorization from the Brigadier."
"And you have it."
She crossed her arms. "I mean Brigadier Benton, sir. You may have say over how we treat the Doctor but you don't have say over proper protocols."
"Brigadier Benton?" the Doctor questioned. "Is that who I think it is?"
"Yes, yes," Alistair agreed with the Gallifreyan. Keeping his focus on the nurse, he stated, "Then ask Benton to join us posthaste. Preferably by the Hummer you are going to call for. You heard the Doctor. He doesn't have much time."
"Time for..." the nurse started but seeing the look on the retired officer's face stopped her question cold. "Of course, sir. Right away." She turned and walked quickly out to take care of the requests.
"Now, while we're waiting for proper authorization, you want to tell me just what's so bloody important about the TARDIS in your condition?"
"As long as I put myself into a healing coma within forty-two hours, my injuries can be easily repaired. Well, easily being a relative term when you are forcing your body to shut down to heal. But I need to be in my TARDIS in order to go into that coma. Once past the forty-two hour window, I'd have no choice but to regenerate. The internal bleeding would be too great."
"And a doctor couldn't prevent that just as well as holistic healing?" Alistair questioned.
The Gallifreyan gave him a pointed look. "My tra'eher is bleeding as well as one of my lungs, Alistair. It's pumping toxins into the rest of my body. If it isn't repaired soon, I'll die from infection and I seriously doubt that a human doctor would know how to repair a tra'eher. Besides... I need my TARDIS." Seeing the look on the Brigadier's face, he sighed. "I know I sound like a corrupt audio file but it's important. She's more than a ship. She and I have a semi-symbiotic relationship."
"I once knew an admiral who said much the same thing," the human man replied. "Your tra ayer? I don't think I've ever heard of one of those, but we have the finest xenobiologic doctors in UNIT."
"Of that I'm sure but even they couldn't heal me of that, unless they have a donor available. And please, don't compare my magnificent dimensionally transcendental time ship to one of your clunky metallic monstrosities." He paused. "You'll hurt her feelings." He grimaced slightly in pain as his shoulder twinged.
"Don't start animorphizing inanimate objects or you really will sound like that admiral."
"The TARDIS isn't an inanimate object, Alistair. Okay, she doesn't move around much but she is a living creature. She was grown, not built, and she knows my body inside and out, quite literally. A bullet here and there in minor areas of the body is one thing. I can take care of that on my own. This?" He gasped suddenly, his hand moving to the left side of his abdomen. "It's starting to shut down already. How long have I been here?"
"You've been in the hospital itself for fifteen hours. Since you lost consciousness, seventeen."
The Time Lord quickly did his own calculations. "Add that to the amount of time it took for me to mount the rescue, hike up to the encampment... oh, and I did sleep a bit before that hike... then the climb and being unconscious after the fall... That's about thirty-seven hours!" he exclaimed, his eyes widening in trepidation. "No wonder my tra'eher is shutting down. I'm bleeding to death!" He blinked for a moment. "But... I can't die now! Sam'll kill me! Besides, what will Rose say when she comes back and finds a different face looking at her?"
"Sam? Who's Sam? Rose called herself that in one of her dissociative states. She's still unconscious, thank God. Those monsters were not gentle with her in the least."
"Yeah, well... she'll stay that way for a while. At least until I come back after my healing coma." Hearing a sound from the doorway, he smiled widely at the sight despite the ever increasing pain he was in. "Benton! I'd love to stay and chat but could you possibly take me to the Brigadier's villa? It's sort of a life and regeneration emergency."
"Oh. Of course, Doctor. Can't have you using up yet another of your lives." He turned to his aide. "Help this man to my Hummer, Lieutenant." Seeing that the Gallifreyan was being taken from the room quickly per his orders, Benton quickly followed the Lieutenant down the halls to assure the Doctor wouldn't have to get used to a new face in the mirror. Alistair was only a few seconds behind, arriving at the Hummer just as the lieutenant secured the Time Lord in the vehicle.
"I hope your driving skills with a Hummer are better than your skills with a Jeep," the Brigadier joked as he sat himself beside the Doctor in the rear.
Benton took the joke in stride as he took the front passenger's seat. "I'm not the one driving. Harris is," he informed them as his aide took the wheel.
It turned out that Harris should have qualified for the Indy 500 based on how fast they moved through the dark streets of the city to the Brigadier's Peruvian home. By the time they arrived, though, the Doctor's face was noticeably paler, beads of perspiration escaping his pores. With great care, they helped him from the vehicle, Benton and Harris practically carrying him through the front door while the Brigadier turned on the lights.
Hearing the sound coming from downstairs, Doris abruptly sat up in her bed, disturbing Glad, who had been sharing the bed with the older woman, both concerned about their loved ones. Reaching under the bed, the matriarch pulled out a cricket bat, handing it over to Glad before pulling a gun from the bedside table. Together, the women slowly made their way down the stairs, watchful for the person who was entering the abode so noisily and ready to defend the home if necessary.
"Alistair! What's going on?" Doris cried out as she saw her husband leading the way while John Benton and a UNIT lieutenant carried the Doctor.
Glad had turned into a statue, the bat dropping to her side as she saw the men carrying her friend and mentor. "What's the matter with the Doctor? He looks like we should call a priest for last rites." Concern and fear rolled off of her.
The Doctor raised his head, hearing the young woman's voice. "Oh. Hello, Glad." He gave her a weak smile. "Don't worry about me. I'll be fine. Just... stay away from the TARDIS for a couple of days, okay? That's my girl."
"Speaking of which, Doris," asked Benton. "Where is the bloody thing? The Doctor's heavier than he looks."
"I'm not heavy... I'm dense," came the slurred response.
"Glad to hear you admit it, old boy," Alistair couldn't help but quip, causing the Time Lord to laugh and instantly regret it as his body reacted violently to the action, a shout of agony coming from his lips.
That was the last straw for Glad. She moved around Doris and down the stairs, rushing to the Gallifreyan. "Oh, Doctor! Please don't die! I couldn't bear it."
"In the living room, John," Doris instructed, seeing the Doctor's pale features turn practically white.
Glad pulled the key to the blue box from her pocket. "I'll open it for you."
The lieutenant paused for a moment, wondering why they were carrying an ill man into a 1960s police phone box, before the pull by Brigadier Benton caused him to move into the Gallifreyan's home.
"Right here," the Time Lord whispered as they finished going up the ramp. "By... by the console." The two men obeyed, laying him carefully on the grated floor, both looking very confused at his words. The moment he was prone, the Doctor exhaled, obviously exhausted from his journey. "Going to sleep now," he informed them, closing his eyes.
The lieutenant, having been focused on the ill man, hadn't fully taken in the view of his surrounding up until that moment. He looked at Brigadier Benton. "Sir... it's... it's... it's..." he said with continuing and growing confusion.
"Bigger on the inside. I know," Benton answered. "Pretty obvious, that."
"But..." the lieutenant responded weakly.
"When it comes to the Doctor, it's better just to accept things as they are, Lieutenant. You'll stay sane longer."
"But you can't leave him here," Glad protested as the men started for the door. "He needs to..." Suddenly she stopped, confusion crossing her face. "... he needs to stay right there. She'll take care of him." The words were said almost as if she were in a shallow trance.
Benton looked at the young lady for a moment, interest more than worry in his eyes. "I'm guessing you must be the Doctor's other companion."
At the words, Glad shook her head. "Other companion?" Almost immediately, she blinked rapidly. "Sam. Where's Sam? He should be with the Doctor. Where is he?"
"Sam?" came the questioning reply. "The Doctor wasn't with a man. He was with a young woman. Miss Rose Tyler, I was told. Is there yet another companion?"
"This room. It's impossible. It's just impossible," the lieutenant mumbled, continuing to examine his surroundings.
"Oh," Glad realized the confusion. "That's how you'd see him. That's how I see him too. He doesn't dress up in women's clothes, like my cousin but he looks like Rose because he's wearing her… sort of."
Benton blinked at her words before shaking his head slightly. "You certainly know how to pick them, Doctor," he commented to the prone form. Even as he spoke, he noticed that the Time Lord's skin seemed to have a glittering sheen to it. Concerned for his old friend, he walked over and touched him. "He's ice cold!"
Yet again, another trance state claimed the girl. "That's the way his body heals. He'll be okay as soon as he's well enough to function."
Slowly, the younger Brigadier stood, nodding slightly. "In that case, we better leave him to it." He looked around one more time. "Can't say I like the new decor."
Glad looked around as well. "This isn't new. It's been like this since I started to travel with the Doctor."
"You should have seen it when I first did. Very white and lots of big round circles on the walls. Bigger than the ones here now." He started for the door. "Let's go, Lieutenant," he ordered.
The rather lost man took a moment before responding to his boss. He moved quickly to Benton's side and the two were about to walk out when the girl's voice stopped them yet again.
"What about Sam? You still haven't said where he is."
"Miss, are you referring to Miss Tyler?" Benton said, his voice gentle. "She's in the hospital. She'll probably be there for a few days, depending on whether or not she wakes. She's been asleep since we took her there."
"What's the matter with Sam..." she started then, deciding that since they obviously didn't believe her, amended, "... Rose? Is Rose sick again?"
"Again?" Brigadier Benton questioned. "Not exactly. She was badly injured and needs some medical attention. Depending on her state of mind when she wakes up, she may be in the hospital for quite some time."
Glad stood there, staring. Although she knew - somehow the TARDIS had told her without words - that the Doctor would be well soon, it was still concerning. Now to hear that her other friend was hurt badly, she was devastated. Still, she connected with the name Doris had called out. Alistair. "They saved him, didn't they?" She paused. "Who hurt them so badly? Mr. Alistair looks fine. What happened to them?"
Benton exhaled slowly. "It's a very long story and I don't have all the details as yet. The Doctor was rather... recalcitrant about talking and Miss Tyler is unfit to give a statement as yet." He looked around. "And this isn't the place to discuss this, Miss Glad, nor is it the time. It is very late. I suggest you get some rest." He stepped out of the time ship, his subordinate following slowly, still stunned by the impossible vessel.
Glad looked back over to the Doctor once more, feeling that she should leave him as he was, as strange as that seemed. Walking out, she noticed Doris standing arm in arm with the man the girl knew was the Doctor's dear friend Alistair. "I'm glad you have your husband back, Mrs. Doris. I'm afraid that I need to ask to stay with you longer. You saw the Doctor and I just learned that Sa... Rose won't be here for some time. Is it okay for me to stay?"
"Of course, it is, my dear. Isn't it, Alistair?" Seeing the frown on her husband's face, she smiled. "Oh, I forget you don't know this lovely young lady. Alistair, this is Galadriel, one of the Doctor's companions."
"Pleasure to meet you, Galadriel," Alistair replied.
"You can just call me Glad. That's what the Doctor and Sa... Rose call me."
"You really must explain why she is constantly referred to as Sarose," Alistair said with a smile.
"It's because Rose isn't Rose. She's in the future. Sam... um... replaced her. Said he was like water and Rose's orey is like a pitcher holding that water. I just figured that he means he's sort of wearing Rose and, in the future, I guess Rose is wearing him."
He noted Benton's presence nearby and gave him a raised eyebrow, to which the younger man responded with a shrug. "Well... I'm sure it will become clearer after some sleep."
Seeing they weren't believing her story, her forehead creased. "I'm telling you the truth. Everyone sees Sam as Rose. The Pharaoh King even wanted to marry Sam but Sam didn't want that. Sam is my friend and he's been through a lot with the museum switch, the dead dragon, the sickness, and all." As she spoke, she became more frustrated and sad, finally sprouting tears.
"Oh, Alistair!" Doris berated. "You made the poor dear cry." She went over to the girl to hug her.
"I..." the older Brigadier started, blinking at the sight before him. Looking over at Benton again, he saw his friend shake his head.
"I have two daughters and I still don't understand teenage girls," Benton told him.
Glad looked up at Doris. "Why won't anyone believe me?"
Alistair answered instead. "It isn't that we don't believe you... exactly. It's more of... we're unsure what you are trying to tell us. Perhaps when the Doctor is better, he can explain things more clearly."
"Can I at least visit... um... Rose? See that everything's all right?"
Alistair rubbed his brow. "It is nearly 2 o'clock in the morning."
"I don't mean now. I mean in the morning. I'm not daft, you know."
"Well, thank goodness for that," Benton commented drily, a grin on his face at the seeming contradiction in her words.
"Benton..." Alistair murmured, slight disapproval on his face.
"Right, sir," he replied. "We'll just take our leave then." He saluted his former commander. "Goodnight, Sir Alistair." He dropped his hand and bowed his head to the lady of the house. "Lady Lethbridge-Stewart."
"Oh! Did Arthur knight you as well? He knighted the Doctor and me right before we left Camelot."
Doris turned to her husband. "Quite a creative girl." Then she turned to Glad. "But it's time for you to get some sleep. I'm sure we'll work this all out in the morning." She then offered to Benton and his aide, "Good night, John. Lieutenant. I'm sure things will work themselves out."
Again, Benton gave her a bow of the head before exiting the house, deciding that it was better to leave than to continue to listen to the stories of the intriguing young guest of the Lethbridge-Stewart estate.
With the departure of Benton and his aide, Sir Alistair exhaled with some relief, glancing over at the TARDIS through the open living room entry. "I trust the Doctor is where he needs to be to recover."
Glad shrugged. "The TARDIS seemed to think so. He feels like an ice cube and is lying on the floor in the console room."
"Somehow, that doesn't surprise me in the least," came the wry response. "Well... in that case, I think I shall retire myself." He gave his wife a kiss. "Meet you upstairs in a few minutes?"
Glad looked from one to the other. "Um... Should I go back to my room in the TARDIS now?" She somehow thought that being there when her friend was in such a strange state would be somewhat difficult.
"Of course not, my dear," Doris told her, taking her arm gently. "We have a perfectly good guest room that you can use."
"Quite," the Brigadier responded with a nod before proceeding up the stairs.
Doris gently guided her to come with her. "I hope you'll be all right on your own tonight," she said gently.
"You'll be close by so I'm sure I'll be fine."
The older woman gave her a kind smile as she led her to the room in question. Pulling back the sheets, she made sure that Glad was tucked into bed before wishing her good night. Shutting the light off as she left, she then went to her own room to join her husband for the first time in nearly a week.
