Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who. All rights go to the BBC. Episode transcript for The Shakespeare Code was received for free online.
Story Summary: "My name is Marie Morgan and I am completely unextraordinary. Everything about me is unextraordinary. My life is normal. Or, at least it was. Because even a child knows that life with the Doctor changes you. You can't ever really go back to who you were before you met the Doctor. And with me, that was for the best. When I met the Doctor, I ran from my previous life. I ran from the normal, the boring, the sane. And I've been running ever since."
Chapter Word Count: 13,255
Date Published: 9/11/15
The Shakespeare Code
"Rage, rage, against the dying of light/Do not go gentle into that good night." -Dylan Thomas
"But how do you travel in time? What makes it go?" Martha pressed, holding onto the still shaking console with determination.
"No, no, don't tell us. I want it to be a secret." Marie said, cutting off the Doctor when she noticed him opening his mouth to answer her best friend. The man shot her a cheeky wink in response.
"I wasn't going to tell you anyway. It's more fun and mysterious that way," he explained, "Hold on tight!"
As the TARDIS finally came to a halt, it became apparent that only Marie had heeded the Doctor's advice as Martha fell to the ground. The black haired woman laughed, walking over to offer her friend a hand up, seemingly unaffected by the bumpy ride through time and space.
"Blimey," Marie laughed, "Did you fail your test to fly her, or does she just not like you?"
The Doctor glared at the engineer, grabbing his coat and slinging it on. "My driving isn't that bad. And for your information, the TARDIS loves me. Now, come on. I promised you two one trip, and one trip only."
Marie frowned at this. She definitely remembered him saying one trip, but she couldn't understand how he could be so cruel. How could he just take her and Martha on what she was sure to be an amazing trip and then dump them back in that alleyway? It didn't seem fair. But then again, Marie of all people knew that life wasn't fair.
"Outside this door," the Doctor continued, not noticing or not caring that Marie's happy mood had diminished, "Brave new world."
"The Tempest," Marie said immediately, staring at the ground beneath her feet absently before snapping her head up to face the Doctor. Martha rolled her eyes, and the Doctor simply raised an eyebrow.
"In addition to being an engineer, Marie is also a giant Shakespeare nerd." Martha explained, amusement lacing her tone. Marie playfully glared at her before flipping her wavy black hair over her shoulders.
"Excuse you, Miss Jones, I prefer the term Shakespeare enthusiast."
The Doctor smiled, enjoying their friendly banter. "Well, it looks like I picked just the right place for your trip then."
Marie froze in pure excitement. "You didn't," she breathed.
The alien smirked, opening the door a tad and leaning on the doorframe. "After you."
The blue eyed woman wasted no time in grabbing Martha's hand and running out the door, only to stop in complete shock at the scenery around her. Hay littered the dirt around them, crates and barrels stacked on top of each other and pushed against buildings carelessly. The area was bathed in a warm orange light from the torches placed strategically around them. People of all types strolled about, some wearing worn-in modest clothes, and others in richer fabric. Conversation created a pleasant buzz that served for background noise as the Doctor stepped out to join the two women.
"Oh, you are kidding me," Martha breathed, "You are so kidding me."
"We actually did it," Marie laughed madly, letting go of Martha's hand to spin in a circle, her arms raised. "We traveled in time! Wow! What year is this?"
The Doctor suddenly pulled the two women back by the arm, narrowly saving them from having a bucket of… something gross being dumped all over them.
"Gardez l'eau!" The man emptying the bucket called, making Marie glare at him.
"Somewhere before the invention of the toilet." The Doctor said calmly.
"And manners," Marie muttered, but was promptly ignored.
"Sorry about that."
"That man should be apologizing."
"I've seen worse, I've worked the late night shift, A+E," Martha assured him, "But are we safe? I mean, can we move around and stuff?"
"Is everybody just going to ignore me?" Marie wondered, and received her answer by being ignored yet again.
"Of course we can. Why do you ask?"
"It's like in the films. You step on the butterfly, you change the future of the human race." Martha said seriously. Marie rolled her eyes at her friend. If that was the case, then she was sure the Doctor wouldn't have taken them to the 1500's. He may be strange and child like, but Marie sincerely doubted that he would put the world at such a risk just to take them on a trip.
Then again, he did 'cross into an established time line' for cheap tricks…
Marie decided to trust him anyway.
"I'll tell you what, don't step on any butterflies. What have butterflies ever done to you?" The Doctor asked, somewhat indignant.
"What if, I don't know, what if I kill my grandfather?"
"Are you planning to?" Marie asked with interest.
"No," Martha responded, and Marie smiled, happy that she was being acknowledged again.
"Well then," the Doctor said, gesturing towards the pale woman, "Oh mighty Shakespeare enthusiast. Care to tell me where and when we are?"
Marie frowned, placing her hands on her hips. "I enjoy his works, but that doesn't mean I can tell exactly what year it is. What sort of rubbish thinking gave you that idea?"
The eccentric brown haired man raised an eyebrow. "So you don't know, then?"
Out of the corner of her eyes, Marie could see her best friend laughing quietly to herself and crossed her arms over her chest. "1599."
The Doctor looked smug. "Close, but it's actually…" His sentence died on his lips as he looked around, lightly sniffing the air. He turned back to the pale woman with interest. "How did you know?"
Marie shrugged. "Lucky guess, I suppose. But it's bloody freezing out here, that's for sure." She uncrossed her arms a little, rubbing her hands up and down her bare arms in an attempt to get warmer. She was still in the clothes she had worn to Leo's party, a black dress with short sleeves that fell to her knees and had a lace back, paired with red high heels that only gave her an extra inch of height.
The Doctor eyed her clothes critically. "Why did you wear that anyway? It's not at all practical for 1599."
"Well, excuse me for not knowing that when I stepped out of my flat in 2006 for a party that I would be going to bloody 1599," the woman in question hissed fiercely, "But next time, I'll dress for time travel."
The Doctor nodded, not at all phased by her anger. "You'd better. You never know when things like this will happen. It's always good to be prepared."
Marie let out a loud scoff, ready to give the rude alien a piece of her mind when Martha stepped forward and whispered something in his ear. When she pulled away, the Doctor looked at her with interest in his eyes.
"Really?"
"Yes, you idiot!" Martha whispered angrily.
The brown eyed man let out a 'huh' and began to shrug off his coat, handing to Marie without saying another word. The woman beamed and put it on, the bottom of the coat hitting her ankles and the rest of it pooling around her body like a giant tan blanket. With the height difference between the two, even with Marie's heels, the coat practically swallowed her whole.
"Thank you, Doctor. Apology accepted." She said cheerfully, relishing in the warmth.
The Doctor scratched the back of his neck with confusion. "Blimey, is it really that easy to make you not cross with me?"
Marie shrugged. "It probably won't work again, but I suppose it doesn't matter anyways. You're dropping us back off after this trip."
Marie watched with satisfaction as the Doctor hesitated before nodding, that was a good sign.
"Oh, but hold on," Martha spoke up suddenly. "Am I all right? I'm not going to get carted off as a slave, am I?"
"Why would they do that?" The Doctor asked, confused once again. Marie rolled her eyes and shook her head. For a genius, he really was clueless.
Martha seemed to share this sentiment. "Not exactly white, in case you haven't noticed."
"I'm not even human," the man shrugged, "Just walk about like you own the place. Works for me. Besides, Elizabethan England, not so different from your time. Look over there, they've got recycling."
Marie's eyes followed as the Doctor pointed to a man shoveling what appeared to be – and smelled like – horse manure into a bucket. She looked to the right of him and noticed two men taking beside a barrel full of water.
"Water cooler moment," she said.
"And the world will be consumed by flame!" A preacher cried, holding a group of parchment in his hand, a manic look in his eyes as the trio of time travelers passed by him.
"Global warming," the Doctor noted. "Oh, yes, and entertainment. Popular entertainment for the masses. If I'm right, we're just down the river by Southwark, right next to…"
Marie needed no further words, grabbing the Doctor's and Martha's hands as best as she could through the giant coat and running across the old (although, Marie mused, it's probably new now) London Bridge, pushing through people and historical buildings such as the Southwark Cathedral, and stopped dead in her tracks, her bright blue eyes sparkling with excitement as she saw the building she was looking for.
"The Globe Theatre," she breathed. "Probably brand new by now. Oh my god."
The Doctor looked down at the shorter woman, still holding onto her hand, smiling softly at her wonderstruck expression. "Though, strictly speaking, it's not a globe. It's a-"
"Tetradecagon. Fourteen sides." Marie interrupted smugly, happy to have been the one with the knowledge instead of this all knowing alien. She hoped that being with her would knock his ego down a few levels, but she doubted it.
"Oh, this whole trip is just going to be one big geek out for you, isn't it?" Martha asked with good humor.
Marie laughed with glee, turning to the Doctor. "D'you suppose he's in there?"
"Oh, yes," the Doctor said, a mad smile spreading across his lips. "Miss Morgan, Miss Jones, will you accompany me to the theatre?"
"Mister Smith, I know I speak for Marie and I when I say that it would be our absolute pleasure." Martha stated, squeezing Marie's other hand with a grin. Marie looked over at her friend with a huge smile.
"Miss Jones, may I just say how incredible it is that we get to experience bloody Shakespeare together?"
"Miss Morgan, my sentiments exactly," Martha giggled.
"Now, when you go home, you can tell everybody that you met Shakespeare!" The Doctor exclaimed, laughing along with the girls.
"Then I can get sectioned!" Martha said gleefully.
"Wow!" A short, black haired woman breathed, applauding with the rest of the three thousand people in the audience, "Just wow! That was incredible!"
"It was worth putting up with the smell," Martha added.
Marie laughed to herself. Times had changed so much in what was, in retrospect, so little time. Where they were standing, the pit, was the place where peasants and the like would stand and watch plays, and the richer and the royals would take their places high above them. Now, in say, a concert, the best place to be would be the pit. She would hate it if she had to be in the nosebleed section during a Shakespeare play in actual Elizabethan England.
"And those are men dressed as women, yeah?" The medical student continued, trying to stand on her tip toes to see over the people in front of her.
"London never changes." Marie stated with absolute happiness in her voice. "But where's Shakespeare?"
"Author! Author!" Martha shouted, stopping only when Marie and the Doctor gave her curious looks. "Do people do that? Do they shout author?"
The woman's question was answered when a man next to her repeated her chant, and soon had the rest of the crowd cheering along. Marie laughed at the absurdity of it all. If somebody had told her a week ago that she would be time traveling with her best friend and an alien with a title for a name and his sentient female spaceship to see a Shakespeare play during Shakespeare's time, well, she would have laughed in their faces.
Marie's thoughts were abruptly cut off when a brunet man with a mildly impressive beard strutted on stage, kissing his hands and then motioning to the audience. The bright eyed woman paused placing her coat covered hands over her heart. He's very… pompous.
"You alright, love?" Martha asked gently, looking at her best friend with concern.
"Genius," the Doctor said with a mad grin, not noticing the two women, "He's a genius. The genius. The most human human there's ever been. Now we're going to hear him speak. Always, he chooses the best words. New, beautiful, brilliant words."
Marie didn't have the heart to tell him that Shakespeare would probably disappoint him.
Luckily, Shakespeare himself seemed to have no such qualms. "Ah, shut your big fat mouths!"
Marie glanced over at the Doctor, then giggled at his crestfallen expression. Martha noticed this and looked over at her best friend with interest.
"You're not disappointed?" She asked.
"Hell no," Marie laughed, "Quite the opposite, in fact. Shakespeare was a genius alright, a comedic genius. I would have been disappointed if he was serious."
"You've got excellent taste, I'll give you that. Oh, that's a wig!" The writer continued, pointing out a man a cluster of people away from where they were standing, owning his stage. "I know what you're all saying. Love's Labor's Lost, that's a funny ending, isn't it? It just stops. Will the boys get the girls?" He paused for a moment, soaking up the attention. "Well, don't get your horse in a tangle, you'll find out soon. Yeah, yeah. All in good time. You don't rush a genius."
Shakespeare paused again, but this time, his body stiffened and his eyes seemed to be unfocused. Marie frowned, and made eye contact with the Doctor.
What was that about? Her eyes seemed to ask. He simply shrugged in response, making Marie relax. If the Doctor thought nothing of it, then she shouldn't be worried. Really, she should be enjoying this, not being on the lookout for possible threats. Maybe it was just left over adrenaline and tenseness from her experience on the moon a few hours previous.
Marie almost laughed out loud. This was an overall mad day. First, she goes to meet her best friend at work and gets stopped by a mad man. Then, she goes to the bloody moon and meets bloody aliens, almost dies from lack of oxygen, goes to a party, and then time travels with her best friend and an alien and is now looking at bloody Shakespeare himself!
"When?" Shakespeare asked rhetorically. "Tomorrow night! The premiere of my brand new play. A sequel no less, and I call it Love's Labor's Won!"
Okay, now it was time to be suspicious. The short, pale woman bit her lip as she followed the Doctor and Martha out of the Globe.
"I'm not an expert, but I've never heard of Love's Labor's Won." Martha said, looking at Marie with a concerned expression before wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Marie briefly smiled gratefully at her best friend before wrapping the blanket like coat around her more.
"Some people call it the lost play," Marie explained. "It doesn't exist, only in rumors. It's mentioned in his list of plays, but there's no copy anywhere. And nobody knows why."
Martha seemingly didn't find this as concerning as the Doctor and Marie did. "Have you got a mini-disc or something? We can tape it. We can flog it. Sell it when we get home and make a mint."
Marie wrinkled her nose and responded in the negative at the same time the Doctor did. "That would be bad," the engineer responded.
"Yeah," the Doctor agreed, seemingly noticing for the first time Marie's discomfort.
"Well, how come it disappeared in the first place?" Martha persisted.
"Well," the time traveling alien responded, dragging out the word, looking at Marie with a hint of a smile. "I was going to just give you two a quick little trip in the TARDIS, but I suppose we could stay a bit longer."
Marie grinned, throwing her arms around the skinny man for a brief hug.
"Hello!" The Doctor grinned to a very unamused Shakespeare and two actors. "Excuse me, not interrupting, am I? Mister Shakespeare, isn't it?"
"Oh, no. No, no, no. Who let you in? No autographs. No, you can't have yourself sketched with me. And please don't ask where I get my ideas from. Thanks for the interest, now be a good boy and shove…" Shakespeare's irritated tone trailed off as he caught sight of Marie and Martha. "Hey, nonny nonny. You two lovely ladies sit right down here next to me. You two, get sewing on them costumes. Off you go."
The actors grumbled their protest but still followed their playwright's instructions, shuffling out of the inn. Marie shrugged off the Doctor's coat now that she was inside a warm building, and handed it back to the Doctor.
Shakespeare's eyes widened considerably at the new time traveler's attire. "Sweet lady, such unusual clothes, so… fitted."
"Mister Shakespeare, while I appreciate the compliment I'm sure you were trying to say there, I would very much like it if you focused on my face rather than my body." Marie responded smoothly, not skipping a beat, relaxing in her seat and raising an eyebrow at the man.
He laughed, clearly amused by her quick wit. "And what a beautiful face it is. Might I request to know the name of a woman whose beauty rivals that of the goddess Venus?"
The Doctor frowned, clearing his throat to catch the attention of the trio sitting down at the table and pulling out a wallet and opening it to reveal a blank rectangle of paper. "I'm Sir Doctor of the TARDIS, and these are my companions, Miss Marie Morgan and Miss Martha Jones."
"Interesting, that bit of paper," Shakespeare commented. "It's blank."
"Oh, that's clever. That proves it. Absolute genius." The Doctor grinned. Marie knitted her slender black eyebrows in confusion.
"No, it says so right there. Sir Doctor, Marie Morgan, Martha Jones. It says so." Martha insisted, pointing to the paper.
"And I say it's blank." Marie stated, crossing her arms over her chest.
The Doctor frowned, looking over at the young engineer with a curious expression. "Blimey, you can't see it either?"
Marie shrugged helplessly. "I suppose not, since I'm looking at a blank piece of paper right now."
"Did I drink contaminated water or something?" Martha wondered.
"Psychic paper," the Doctor explained, pocketing it. "Er, long story. Oh, I hate starting from scratch."
"Psychic? Never heard that before, and words are my trade. Who are you exactly? More to the point, how to you manage to find a goddess and a delicious blackamoor lady to be your traveling companions?" Shakespeare wondered, causing Marie to let out a bark of laughter and Martha to look at the playwright with an incredulous expression.
"What did you say?"
Shakespeare at least had the decency to look moderately sorry. "Oops. Isn't that the word we use nowadays? And Ethiop girl? A swarth? A Queen of Afric?"
Marie nudged her best friend with her shoulder, a smile ever present on her lips. "Did you hear that? A Queen and a goddess. Why aren't there blokes like this at home?"
Martha smiled at this, glad to see that Marie was enjoying herself.
"It's political correctness gone mad," the Doctor muttered, before speaking up. "Er, Martha and Marie are from a far-off land. Freedonia."
Marie snorted to herself. "Freedonia?" She whispered to the Doctor as an official looking man strolled into the room. The Doctor rolled his eyes at her sass.
"I panicked!" He whispered back, then nudged her to keep quiet.
"Excuse me! Hold hard a moment!" The man huffed, placing his hands on his hips. Marie quirked an eyebrow. "This is abominable behavior. A new play with no warning? I demand to see a script, Mister Shakespeare. As Master of the Revels, every new script must be registered in my office and examined by me before it can be performed."
Marie wondered how any of Shakespeare's plays were published if it was with this man proofreading it. He didn't look like the type to appreciate Shakespeare's dryer sense of humor. Then again, Marie mused, he probably didn't understand any of the jokes.
"Tomorrow, first thing. I'll send it round." Shakespeare promised, irritation slipping through his professional tone.
"I don't work to your schedule, you work to mine! The script, now!" The Master of the Revels fumed, his face growing redder and redder with each word. Marie decided that she didn't like him very much.
"I can't." Shakespeare responded sharply.
"Then tomorrow's performance is canceled." The official said, smug.
Martha looked at the scene before her with interest, turning to Marie. "It's all go around here, isn't it?"
Marie chortled lightly in response, earning a glare from the angry man. She raised her eyebrows, a silent challenge, and the Master of the Revels huffed in annoyance again and turned away from her. Marie celebrated her win quietly, sharing smug glances with the Doctor and her best friend.
"I'm returning to my office for a banning order. If it's the last thing I do, Love's Labor's Won will never be played." The man growled, probably trying to look intimidating, but only serving to make Marie laugh harder as he stomped down the stairs.
Martha sighed in disappointment, playing with the sleeve of her jacket. "Well then, mystery solved. That's Love's Labor's Won over and done with. Thought it might be something more, you know, mysterious."
Marie wrinkled her nose in distaste. "Honestly, after the day we've had, it really shouldn't be-"
The pale engineer was abruptly cut off by a woman screaming for help. The four immediately ran out of the Elephant's Lodge and ran into the street before them, only to be greeted with the sight of the Master of the Revels choking and spewing out copious amounts of water. Marie froze where she stood, looking at the scene with wide eyes as Martha and the Doctor ran to the man to help him. The black haired woman frowned, ashamed at herself for not going to help him as soon as she saw him, and joined her two companions.
"It's that bloke from before," Marie breathed, trying to pat his back roughly to assist in getting some of the water out of his mouth.
"What's wrong with him?" The Doctor muttered, then looked around to the frightened townspeople. "Leave it to me, I'm a doctor."
"So am I, near enough." Martha said with determination.
Marie continued to pat his back. "I'm an engineer, but I do know CPR."
"Not helping!" The Doctor hissed at her.
Marie rolled her bright blue eyes in annoyance. "Now is not the time to be arguing with me!"
Martha seemingly ignored the two as the Master of the Revels collapsed on the floor and began getting ready to pump his chest for CPR. "Got to get the heart going… Does anybody know this man's name?"
"Lynley," a helpful townsperson reported, their voice shaking.
"Mister Lynley, come on. Can you hear me? You're going to be all right." The medical student pumped his chest three times, only to be rewarded with water that spewed out of his mouth like a fountain. He was dead.
"What the hell?" Marie muttered.
"I've never seen a death like it," the Doctor admitted, flabbergasted. "His lungs are full of water. He drowned, and then, I don't know, like a blow to the heart, an invisible blow."
Marie's eyes narrowed as she looked at the various people watching. Some were crying, some were frozen in shock, but none looked guilty. Marie nudged the Doctor as she noticed a maid coming out of Shakespeare's inn.
The alien looked up, a serious expression on his face. "Good mistress, this poor fellow has died from a sudden imbalance of the humors. A natural, if unfortunate demise. Call a constable and have him taken away."
"Yes, sir." The woman responded, fierce with determination. Marie would have taken a liking to her if it weren't for the fact that another woman, who looked no more than eighteen, stepped forward with humor in her eyes.
"I'll do it, ma'am." She offered, curtseying to the older woman before leaving. The black haired engineer frowned, committing her face to memory.
"Why are you telling them that?" Martha asked the Doctor.
"This lot still have got one foot in the Dark Ages," the time traveler explained, "If I tell them the truth, they'll panic and think it was witchcraft."
"Okay, so what was it?" Marie asked impatiently. The Doctor turned to face her directly, his eyes serious.
"Witchcraft."
"I got you a room, Sir Doctor. You, Miss Jones and Miss Morgan are just across the landing," the woman from before, who they learned was named Dolly Bailey, said, leaving the room with a sad smile.
Marie thanked the woman before turning to Shakespeare, who was rubbing his face tiredly, the script for Love's Labor's Won freshly inked but not yet completed.
"Poor Lynley. So many strange events. Not least of all, this land of Freedonia where a woman can be a doctor and an engineer? And wear so little of clothing?"
"Where a woman can do what she likes." Marie stated simply, too tired to argue sexism with the old poet.
Shakespeare nodded, sensing her mood, before turning to the Doctor. "And you, Sir Doctor. How can a man so young have eyes so old?"
Marie turned to the Doctor curiously. The Doctor couldn't be more than five, ten years older than herself and Martha. But Shakespeare was onto something, he did have the eyes of a man far beyond his years. Maybe she could get some answers tonight to the questions that have been nagging at the back of her mind instead of blindly trusting the mad man with a time machine.
"I do a lot of reading," the Doctor lied, deadpan.
Shakespeare nodded, expecting this answer. "A trite reply. Yeah, that's what I'd do. And you, Miss Martha Jones? You look at him like you're surprised he exists. He's as much of a puzzle to you as he is to me."
Marie smiled softly, her eyes focused on the floor boards beneath her feet, perking up slightly when she heard Shakespeare say her name. "And Miss Marie Morgan. A true wonder of the world, but not just for your beauty. I think you must do as the Doctor does, and read a great deal."
Marie shook her head. "You've got it wrong, Mister Shakespeare. I'm just as ordinary as any. I think it's time Sir Doctor, Miss Jones and I retire to bed."
"I must work. I have a play to complete. But I'll get my answers tomorrow, Doctor and Marie, and I'll discover more about you and why this constant performance of yours." The playwright promised, waving his feather quill at the two. Marie just shook her head again. He really had it all wrong. The Doctor was the one who was an enigma, not her.
"All the world's a stage," Marie responded vaguely, causing the Doctor to look down at her with a smile.
"Hmm. I might use that," Shakespeare mused thoughtfully. "Goodnight, Miss Marie."
The black haired woman smiled softly. "Nighty night, William."
"It's not exactly five star, is it?" Martha said with distaste, holding a candle up to see the rest of the room better a few moments later.
"Oh, it'll do." The Doctor said confidently. "I've seen worse."
Marie laughed quietly to herself, looking out the window with her arms crossed over her chest. "I haven't even got a toothbrush."
"Oh, er…" The Doctor walked over to the woman, procuring one from his coat pocket. Marie and Martha looked on with interest. "Contains Venusion Spearmint."
Marie smiled her thanks as Martha looked at the bed with unease. "So, who's going where? I mean, there's only one bed."
"We'll manage. Come on, Marie." The Doctor said, plopping himself down on the bed and making himself comfortable. The black haired engineer shook her head, causing Martha to look at her with sympathy.
"Not a good night?" The medical student asked.
Marie nodded, making eye contact with the Doctor, who was looking at her solemnly. "Us insomniacs know when sleep's not in the question."*
The subject was dropped as soon as Marie finished speaking, and Martha laid herself down on the bed, as far away as she could from the Doctor to avoid potential awkwardness.
"So, magic. It's all a little bit Harry Potter." Marie stated, her back to the night sky, facing the Doctor and Martha with a slight smirk.
"Oh, wait till you read book seven," the Doctor sighed wistfully, winking at Marie. "I cried."
Marie grinned.
"But, is it real, though? I mean, witches, black magic and all that, it's real?" Martha had to know.
The Doctor scoffed, as if the idea was completely ridiculous. "Of course it isn't."
The pale engineer rolled her eyes. She went from 2007 to 1599 in a matter of seconds with an alien she had met on the moon that she met before he met her, and magic was something to be scoffed at? "You of all people are going to act like magic is a crazy idea?"
The alien frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means that you're impossible in more ways than one." Marie stated matter-of-factly.
"That's rich coming from –"
"So, if it's not witchcraft, then what is it?" Martha interrupted, ever the peacekeeper.
The Doctor looked at Marie warily, but the woman had turned her back and was now looking at the starry night sky. "Looks like witchcraft, but isn't. Can't be."
There were a few moments of silence before the Doctor spoke again. "There's such a thing as psychic energy, but a human couldn't channel it like that. Not without a generator the size of Taunton, and I think we'd have spotted that. No, there's something I'm missing. Something close, something really close, staring me right in the face and I can't see it."
Once again, the room grew quiet, and once again, it was the Doctor that broke the silence. "Rose would know. A friend of mine, Rose. Right now, she'd say exactly the right thing." His voice was sad, as if he was recalling a great loss, and then reverted back to normal. "Still, can't be helped. You two are just novices, never mind. I'll be taking you back home tomorrow."
"Great." Marie stated icily, rolling her eyes even though she knew neither the Doctor or her best friend could see it. She didn't know why she was so offended, honestly. Sure, he insulted their intelligence, but Marie knew he didn't mean that part. Idiots don't become medical students, and he had praised Marie's brain on the moon. They simply didn't know about his world like this Rose woman seemed to.
Martha, seemingly much more irritated than her best friend, blew out the candle with a huff of air, eliminating the light and the conversation in the room. Marie simply stared out into the sky.
It was strange, she thought, to still be so transfixed with the moon after being on it. She had touched the stars, ran on the moon, bathed in the earth light, and yet space was still just as beautiful. She was glad, she supposed. Because that meant that she stood a chance at not losing interest in something so beautiful during future adventures.
Unless…
Marie almost imperceptibly looked over at the Doctor, who hadn't moved an inch from where he had settled himself just a few moments before. His eyes were closed, but Marie knew he wasn't asleep.
The black haired woman then left the room, her steps quiet as to not rouse Martha, but loud enough that the Doctor would hear, and follow her.
She hadn't even made it more than two feet outside of the room before she heard nearly silent footsteps behind her. The engineer paused at the nearest window, gazing out at the houses that contained the sleeping people of 1599.
Marie laughed at that softly. "It's incredible, really." She looked over to see the Doctor, who was standing with his arms crossed over his chest with a neutral expression on his face, but a single eyebrow raised, posing the unspoken words for her to continue.
"It's just, I was born hundreds of years before this one moment in time. Here I am, a woman from 2007, looking at the sleeping city of 1599. You look back on history books, and you always imagine the exciting things, the historical drama. But these people, the people of my past… They're just people. Sleeping, breathing, eating, thinking, feeling and living just like 2007. In the end, people are just people. Nothing has changed, and yet everything has." Marie paused again, this time making eye contact with the alien.
"And you, you can just travel in between time with the press of a few buttons. You can see the rising and falling of empires that have happened and haven't happened yet. You can walk on one street in 1599 and then just as easily walk the same street in 2007 with almost no time passed for you. So many lives come and go between those 408 years. So many birthdays, funerals, break ups, make ups, children losing their baby teeth, adults finding their first grey hairs… And you, Doctor, you see it all."
The Doctor stared at the woman, a hint of a sad smile gracing his face. Before he had a chance to speak, a scream ripped through the air. The pair only hesitated for a second, glancing at each other.
"Martha." Marie said.
"Shakespeare. I'll meet you both there." The Doctor nodded, and the two ran their separate ways.
Marie had a much quicker journey, seeing as how the window where she had spoken to the Doctor was only a few feet away from where her friend was sleeping. The moment Marie burst into the room where Martha had been sleeping, the two set off to where the scream had originated without a word from either woman.
Within seconds, the pair found themselves in Shakespeare's room. Martha, ever the caregiver, immediately ran to the Doctor's side to kneel down to woman on the floor who Marie dimly recognized was Dolly Bailey. Marie, catching a flash of motion out of the corner of her eyes, ran to the window, and was absolutely shocked at what she saw.
"Her heart gave out. She died of fright…" Marie heard the Doctor murmur to Martha, and Marie whirled around to what she now knew was the body of Dolly Bailey.
A woman was dead. That was the scream. The scream of a dying woman. Marie had heard the final sounds out of a human beings mouth.
The Doctor had said she died of fright, but Marie simply couldn't believe that. The woman had been so strong when the Master of the Revels had died.
Oh, god… Two people have died today.
Marie let out a choked, but still mostly silent sob at the thought. Those two people weren't alive anymore. They were somebody's child, somebody's friend, maybe they even had spouses or children of their own, or siblings. They were never going home.
And Marie… Marie had barely blinked an eye when the Master of Revels had died. In fact, she had been cracking jokes while he was choking. How could she have possibly changed so much to where death didn't affect her like that? What, she takes one trip to the moon and suddenly, death is something to joke about?
"… Marie!" The Doctor said with a raised, but still gentle voice. The black haired engineer stopped looking at the poor dead woman and jumped a little when she realized the Doctor was inches away from her, and Martha was speaking quietly to Shakespeare.
"Are you alright?" The Doctor asked softly, placing a comforting hand on her shoulder.
Marie shook her head no, but shrugged. "I… I'm not. But this isn't the time to worry about my emotional state. I saw something."
"What did you see?"
Marie hesitated before speaking, hoping that she didn't sound too ridiculous. "A witch. I think."
The Doctor's eyes narrowed in concentration and confusion. "What did the witch look like?"
"Um, I didn't get too good of a look, she was flying away on a broomstick. But from what I saw, she had messy grey hair, a large pointed nose, and was wearing a dirty looking dress."
"Oh, sweet Dolly Bailey," Shakespeare murmured sadly, looking at the body of his friend. "She sat out three bouts of the plague in this place when we all ran like rats. But what could have scared her so? She had such enormous spirit."
"Rage, rage, against the dying of the light." The Doctor quoted, following Shakespeare's gaze.
"I might use that." The old playwright mused, bringing his hand up to stroke his beard.
"You can't," Marie responded, crossing her arms over her chest, her voice quiet and the excitement and the light fading from her eyes. "It's somebody else's."
The Doctor smiled sadly at the engineer, glad that at least somebody understood his references and was there to make sure that Dylan Thomas was able to keep to history and be the one who coined the famous phrases. For a moment, it was almost like it was normal. Then Marie was reminded that two people were now dead.
"But the thing is," Martha persisted, "Lynley's drowned on dry land, Dolly died of fright, and they were both connected to you, Shakespeare."
Marie shifted uncomfortably at Martha being so blasé about the whole thing. It was true that she was a medical student, but even then, death shouldn't ever be something anybody is used to. Especially deaths like these.
"You're accusing me?" Shakespeare asked, incredulous.
Martha waved him off errantly. "No, but did you hear Marie? She saw a witch, just like the ones you've written about."
Shakespeare's eyebrows mashed together in confusion. "I have? When was that?"
"No, not quite yet." The Doctor correctly gently.
"Peter Streete spoke of witches." Shakespeare said suddenly, looking to Marie and frowning. "He was our builder. He sketched the plans to the Globe."
Marie shrugged helplessly at the old poet. She was no Doctor, this wasn't her area of expertise. As a matter of fact, the black haired engineer was feeling more and more out of place as time went on. On one hand, it was beautiful and a privilege to be time traveling and meeting one of her favorite historical figures in his prime. On the other hand, she was just an ordinary woman, in 1599, dealing with witches and Shakespeare and deaths. Not to mention she had just been to the moon, and was traveling with her best friend and an alien she essentially knew nothing about.
Marie bit at her lip, trying to calm herself down.
It's just the chemicals, the blue eyed woman told herself. It's just the anxiety, it isn't real.
"The architect… Hold on, the architect!" The Doctor exclaimed, looking at the other three with wide eyes. "The architect! The Globe! Come on!"
"Wait!" Marie called as the Doctor, Martha and Shakespeare all began to run out of the room. The trio all stopped and looked at her, and the engineer cleared her throat. "What about Dolly Bailey? Are we just going to leave her here?"
Their eyes widened, and Marie could see the wheels turning in their head. They truly had forgotten about the dead woman, and were just about to run out and leave her. Marie watched as Shakespeare's face dropped, Martha put a hand to her mouth as she realized she was just about to leave her body there, and the Doctor eyed Marie with a sad expression on his face.
"I… I didn't even think about her." Shakespeare murmured, looking almost ashamed of himself, and once again, his eyes went to Marie, as if he was asking for forgiveness. The old poet raised his voice, enough to be heard throughout the building. "Creevey!"
Not even a minute later did a younger looking boy, maybe about nineteen, stumble into the room. "Yes, sir?"
"I need you to gather a few men, and call for the constable. Miss Dolly Bailey has died." Shakespeare said, his voice deep with sadness, but still carrying a commanding tone.
The boy, Creevey's eyes widened at the sight of the body on the floor. "Y-yes, sir. Right away sir."
With that, the young boy turned and ran, leaving the three time travelers and William Shakespeare to look at each other.
"I'm sorry," the Doctor offered. "For your loss."
Shakespeare nodded, not making eye contact. "Yeah."
"We… we should go to the Globe." Martha said quietly, and the Doctor nodded, looking at Marie and shrugging out of his tan coat, handing it to her again. Marie shook her head in refusal, even though she was still wearing her dress from Leo's party that had only happened for her a few hours ago, but seemed like a few hundred years ago.
"Take it." The Doctor insisted, pushing it closer to her. Marie eyed it warily, and looked up to meet the Doctor's chocolate brown eyes. She wasn't sure if it was because she was dressed improperly for the time period, or if he remembered that she was cold when she was outside earlier. Or maybe it was his way of offering her some sort of comfort.
The pale engineer nodded once, taking the coat from him and putting it on herself, not meeting anybody else's eyes, and missing the look Shakespeare and Martha shared.
"The columns there, right?" The Doctor was muttered as soon as the four were in the Globe, turning so he could see the theatre clearly. "Fourteen sides. I've always wondered, but I never asked. Tell me, Will, why fourteen sides?"
The playwright shrugged. "It was the shape Peter Streete thought best, that's all. Said it carried the sound well."
"Fourteen," the Doctor repeated for about the hundredth time since they had entered the Globe. "Why does that ring a bell? Fourteen."
Marie would have been at least somewhat enjoying herself in the Globe – the original Globe, not the rebuilt one after it burned to the ground – but the fact that her anxiety was rearing its ugly head and that the Doctor was beginning to grate on her nerves with his repetition of the word 'fourteen'. She had long since resigned herself to sitting on the edge of the stage, her feet dangling but not quite touching the ground thanks to her short stature.
"There's fourteen lines in a sonnet." Martha stated, crossing her arms over her chest. She appeared to be just as nonplussed as Marie at the Doctor's form of investigating and talking to himself.
"So there is. Good point." The Doctor replied, glancing over at Martha, impressed. "Words and shapes following the same design. Fourteen lines, fourteen sides, fourteen facets. Oh, my head. Tetradecagon. Think, think, think! Words, letters, numbers, lines!"
"This is just a theatre," Shakespeare protested, seemingly just as confused as the two other women, despite his genius level intellect.
The Doctor did a halfway smile that Marie was starting to find familiar on him, and spoke to the old poet. "Oh yeah, but a theatre's magic, isn't it? Marie should know."
The engineer looked over at William, silently giving him support. Somehow, she knew that he would be what they needed to fix things and solve the mystery of the two deaths. Her heart dropped as she thought of Dolly Bailey and Lynley again, staring at the ground guilty. Logically, Marie knew there was nothing she or Martha, the Doctor or Shakespeare could have done to prevent their deaths, but she still felt a sort of responsibility for their deaths.
Those were people, it didn't matter if they were already dead long before Marie was alive, who had lives. They had families that were probably just getting the news of their deaths. Maybe Lynley had a wife, had children. Maybe Dolly Bailey had a loving family who cared for her very much. They had just died, right in front of her.
The Doctor sprung Marie from her thoughts, hopping up on the stage effortlessly and striding around behind her, his footsteps and his words confident. The black haired woman stood up and looked at him with interest, hoping he would provide a distraction from her thoughts.
"Stand on this stage, say the right words with the right emphasis at the right time… Oh, you can make men weep, or cry with joy. Change them. You can change people's minds with words in this place. But if you exaggerate that…" The Doctor's voice trailed off, looking to his two temporary traveling companions for help.
"It's like the TARDIS." Marie supplied, pulling the tan coat over her body even more. It really was rather chilly.
Martha nodded, agreeing with her best friend. "Small wooden box with all of that power inside."
The Doctor looked at the two women, approval shining in his eyes. "Oh. Oh, Martha Jones, Marie Morgan, I like you two. Tell you what, though. Peter Streete would know. Can I talk to him?"
"You won't get an answer," Shakespeare replied. "A month after finishing this place, lost his mind."
"Why?" Martha asked immediately. Marie smiled softly at her friend's concern over a man she had never met that was from a different time. Some things never changed, and she sincerely hoped this never did. "What happened?"
"Probably the witches he was speaking of." Marie answered rather than the poet. She may be out of her depths at solving mysteries, unlike the Doctor who seemed unaffected by anything other than his irritation that he hadn't solved it yet.
This made Marie shift uneasily where she stood. The Doctor was a who-knows-how-old time traveling alien who she knew nothing about, and here he was, getting excited over murder and so easily forgetting that it was murder he was getting excited over. He seemed like a good man, but Marie had a bit of a hard time trusting him, at least for the time being.
Shakespeare, oblivious to Marie's internal struggling, nodded and pointed at the young, pale engineer. "He started raving about witches, hearing voices, babbling. His mind was addled."
The Doctor's face shifted, the man becoming more and more serious as time went on, something Marie noticed and appreciated. "Where is he now?"
"Bedlam."
"What's Bedlam?" Martha asked, confused.
"Bethlehem Hospital. The madhouse." Shakespeare clarified, looking as if the idea of the place alone gave him chills. Marie didn't blame him. She wasn't all too keen on the idea of it either, considering people with anxiety like her were typically thrown into madhouses like Bedlam simply because nobody knew what anxiety was in the past. It was like the Doctor had said, this lot still had one foot in the Dark Ages.
"We're going to go there. Right now. Come on." The Doctor said firmly, moving off stage and grabbing Marie's hand gently, helping her down, but still holding on to her hand. The blue eyed woman wasn't sure if it was because he knew she was having a bit of a breakdown or what, but she appreciated the gesture nonetheless.
"Wait!" Shakespeare called. "I'm coming with you. I want to witness this at first hand."
Before the Doctor could protest like Marie was sure he would, two young men, the same from the inn a few hours ago, entered the Globe. Shakespeare pulled out the pages of Love's Labor's Won and handed it to them, eyeing the actors. "Ralph, the last scene, as promised. Copy it, hand it round, learn it, speak it. I'll be back before curtain up. And remember kid, project. Eyes and teeth. You never know, the Queen might turn up." Shakespeare's voice lowered, and his tone became more sarcastic as he followed Marie, Martha and the Doctor out of the theatre. "As if. She never does."
The playwright had to jog a bit to catch up to the three, but immediately began speaking to them, seemingly eager to learn about where they came from.
"So, tell me of Freedonia, where women can be doctors, writers, actors, engineers."
Marie side eyed the poet, but didn't give him much more than a glance as she worked to keep up with the Doctor's brisk pace. "This county is ruled by a woman."
"Ah, she's royal," Shakespeare counted, his stride easily matching the pairs, Martha following close behind and listening with interest. "That's God's business. Though you are a royal beauty."
Marie laughed, stopping her walking and subsequently stopping the Doctor, who was looking at the poet, his eyes narrowed. Martha watched with a grin.
"Woah, there, Will. What would your wife in the country say?" Marie asked, raising a slender eyebrow.
"Ah, but my sweet Marie, this is Town." He grinned, winking at her.
The engineer giggled. It had been quite a while since she had an interaction with somebody this flirtatious. It was nice to feel wanted, even if it was just the way Shakespeare was.
"Come on," the Doctor said impatiently, tugging on Marie's hand, making her look up at him. She had forgotten that he was holding her hand, and was a little confused as to why he still was. Maybe it was just a thing he did? After all, he did hold her hand a lot back on the moon. It did help when they were running for their lives, but they weren't even walking anymore. And Marie certainly hoped they wouldn't have to be running anytime soon. She was just a little sore from the moon still, and she was wearing heels. "We can all have a good flirt later."
"Is that a promise, Doctor?" William Shakespeare asked cheekily, looking the alien up and down.
"Oh, fifty seven academics just punched the air." The Doctor muttered, somewhat amused but still looking a bit annoyed. "Now, move!"
Bethlehem Hospital was absolutely horrifying. The building was in a dilapidated state, as if it hadn't been cleaned since its inception. Bits of the wall were crumbling off, spider webs were seen more often than not in every corner, and the only light was coming from the weak and flickering torches that were placed once every ten feet or so, far enough away from the 'patients' so they couldn't reach.
And the noises. Marie was nearly in tears at the sounds of the screams of all of the men and women in the horrible, horrible place, begging to be let out, that they weren't crazy… Marie wasn't very good with her history, but she did know enough from looking around alone that many of these people would die in their cells.
The Doctor was… surprisingly kind to her. He hadn't let go of her hand for a second, and had walked very close to her, keeping to the center of the hallway so she wouldn't be close to the cells. It surprised her because even though she had been though very crazy experiences with him, the Doctor was still a stranger to her. If she was following the natural timeline of things – which was already starting to get a little fuzzy to her – then she had met him not even a full day ago.
Kind man or not, most people in general wouldn't be kind to a stranger like he was being kind to her. Marie briefly wondered if it was simply the way he was raised, after all, she knew nothing about his race. He was alien in more ways than one.
"Does my Lord Doctor wish some entertainment while he waits? I'd whip these madmen." The keeper of the hospital asked, and Marie squeezed the Doctor's hand shuddering at the horrible treatment of these human beings that was seemingly entertainment for the rich. "They'll put on a good show for you. Mad dog in Bedlam."
The Doctor looked furious, scowling at the keeper. "No, I don't!"
The keeper looked taken aback, as if people didn't usually refuse his request. Marie's eyes closed. As much as she wished she was strong enough to be able to look at the horrid place around her, she just wasn't.
"Very well. Wait here, my lords, while I make him decent for the ladies." Marie heard the keeper say, and then his footsteps faded off. Marie's eyes fluttered open, moving so she could look at her best friend.
Martha frowned, and left Shakespeare's side, and gently grabbed Marie, taking her away from the Doctor's grasp and holding her. The medical student then turned an accusing glare to Shakespeare. "So this is what you call a hospital, yeah? Where the patients are whipped to entertain the gentry? And you put your friend in here?"
"Martha," Marie protested, but her plea went unheard.
"Oh, it's all so different in Freedonia!" Shakespeare exclaimed, rolling his eyes.
"William, you're not like the rest of these people. You're clever." Marie said, quietly but capturing the attention of the Doctor, Martha, and Shakespeare. "You honestly think a place like this would do anybody any good?"
Shakespeare lowered his eyes, unable to meet Marie's gaze. "I've been mad. Fear of this place set me right again. It serves its purpose." The old poet said, stubborn but almost guilty.
Marie's eyes softened. "You lost your son." Her knowledge of William Shakespeare didn't exclusively mean his works.
"My only boy. The Black Death took him. I wasn't even there."
The only noise in the hospital was the sounds of the 'mad men' shouting and crying for a moment or two before Martha spoke.
"I didn't know. I'm sorry."
"It made me question everything. The futility of this fleeting existence. To be or not to be." The playwright paused, considering his words for a moment. "Oh, that's quite good."
Marie smiled softly, her first smile in a while. Despite all of the things happening around her, she still couldn't ignore the fact that William Shakespeare himself had just said one of the most iconic lines of his for the first time. Marie looked over at the Doctor and exchanged an amused glance with him.
"You should write that down." The Doctor suggested.
Shakespeare shrugged indifferently. "Maybe not. A bit pretentious?"
Marie was almost thankful for a split second that the keeper called for the group, because she almost laughed out loud. Instead of catching back up to hold the Doctor's hand again, Marie linked arms with Martha, smiling at her best friend to show that even though she didn't feel very okay, she would be fine later.
"They can be dangerous, my lord. Don't know their own strength." The keeper muttered to the Doctor, and the alien turned to face him, his face furious. Marie took a slight step back, taking Martha with her. The Doctor looked dangerous, which was something Marie hadn't counted on him being. Though she hadn't known him long, he's been nice, funny, smart, and gentle. This side of the Doctor was very different, and if the pale engineer was being honest… a little frightening.
"I think it helps if you don't whip them. Now get out!" The Doctor spat, and the keeper's eyes widened before he obediently left the cell. Marie looked at Martha, but the other woman didn't seem particularly perturbed. Marie frowned, but she supposed he was only being this way to the hospital keeper who clearly had no problem with whipping innocent people for fun…
"Peter? Peter Streete?" The Doctor asked gently, and in stark contrast to his words not even a few seconds before. Marie blinked, shocked at his sudden mood swing, but again, neither Martha nor Shakespeare seemed to be bothered.
"He's the same as he was. You'll get nothing out of him." Shakespeare commented, his arms crossed over his chest as he looked at his friend, hunched over and dressed in dirty rags, staring at the wall, with sadness.
The Doctor moved closer and placed a hand on Peter's shoulder, and the man whipped around, staring at the Doctor with wild eyes. Marie watched the two men carefully, but moved Martha back a bit more to a safe distance. The Doctor slowly placed his fingers on Peter's temples, reminiscent of the Star Trek Vulcan Mind Melds.
"Peter, I'm the Doctor. Go into the past. One year ago. Let your mind go back. Back to when everything was fine and shining. Everything that happened in this year since happened to somebody else. It was just a story, A Winter's Tale. Let go. That's it, just let go." Gently, with almost paternal like care, the Doctor laid Peter down on his cot, removing his hands and standing back from the man. "Tell me the story, Peter. Tell me about the witches."
"Witches spoke to Peter. In the night, they whispered. They whispered. Got Peter to build the Globe to their design. Their design! The fourteen walls. Always fourteen. When the work was done, they snapped poor Peter's wits."
Marie tightened her grip on Martha's arm, and her best friend returned the action. Desperately, Marie hoped she really wasn't shaking as bad as she felt, but she knew that she was.
"Where did Peter see the witches? Where in the city?" When Peter didn't respond, the Doctor's tone turned sharper. "Peter, tell me. You've got to tell me where were they?"
Peter's body was trembling, and his eyes were searching the ceiling, almost as if he was seeing where the witches were. "All Hallows Street."
As soon as Peter finished speaking, Marie was dumbfounded as a witch, just like the one she had saw flying away on the broomstick when Dolly Bailey died. Martha and Marie gripped at each other with a gasp, backing away as far as they could in the tiny cell, hiding by Shakespeare.
"Too many words," the witch proclaimed, glaring at the Doctor and Peter Streete.
"What the hell?" Martha muttered, and Marie could feel her friend's heart beating quickly and erratically.
"Just one touch of the heart…" The witch grinned grotesquely, moving towards Peter, ignoring the Doctor's shouted protest and touching the man on the chest, and Marie watched in horror as another person died, right in front of her.
"Witch! I'm seeing a witch!" Shakespeare exclaimed, his eyes wide and frightened.
The witch moved from Peter's body, looking at the four other people in the room with a questioning look. "Now, who would be next, hmm? Just one touch. Oh, oh, I'll stop your frantic hearts. Poor, fragile mortals."
Martha dropped Marie's arm momentarily to put her hands on the cell bars and rattle them. "Let us out! Let us out!"
"That's not going to work, the whole building's shouting that." The Doctor said calmly, slowly and carefully making his way to the witch.
"Who will die first, hmm?" The witch repeated, cocking her head at Marie, who was staring back with fear in her eyes. Never before had the engineer wished to be stronger than she was harder than in that one moment, with a murderous witch from the 15th century poised to kill her.
"Well," the Doctor drawled, drawing the witches attention to him. "If you're looking for volunteers."
"Doctor, don't!" Marie called frantically, snapped out of her stupor.
"Can you stop her?" Shakespeare asked urgently, putting a hand on Marie's wrist to stop her from going forward, which the woman shook off but stayed put.
"No mortal has power over me." The witch boasted.
The Doctor's eyes narrowed, thinking hard. "Oh, but there's a power in words. If I can find the right one, if I can just know you…"
"None on Earth have knowledge of us." The witch was suddenly looking much less confident than she was a few moments ago.
"Then it's a good thing I'm here. Now think, think, think… Humanoid female, uses shapes and words to channel energy. Ah! Fourteen! That's it! Fourteen! The fourteen stars of the Rexel planetary configuration!" The Doctor exclaimed, pointing at the witch with a smug smirk. "Creature, I name you: Carrionite!"
The Carrionite looked at the Doctor with pure horror in her eyes, disappearing in a flash of light with a scream that echoed around the room, joining in to the screams from the inmates of the hospital.
"What… what did you do?" Marie asked with a shaky voice. Part of her was glad that the Doctor had the knowledge to make the creature go away, but another part of her was a little frightened that he had the power.
"I named her." The Doctor said simply, tucking his hands in his pockets and rocking back and forth on his heels. "The power of a name. That's old magic."
"But there's no such thing as magic." Martha protested.
"Well, it's just a different sort of science. You lot, you chose mathematics. Given the right string of numbers, the right equation, you can split the atom. Carrionites use words instead." The Doctor explained, meeting Marie's eyes with a questioning gaze. The engineer had the Doctor's coat wrapped around her, and was visibly shaking.
"Use them for what?" Shakespeare asked.
"The end of the world."
Once the group was back in Shakespeare's room, Dolly Bailey's body gone, but not forgotten, at least not by Marie, the Doctor was pacing across the room, running his fingers through his hair agitatedly as he thought out loud to a room full of people who had no idea what he was talking about.
"The Carrionites disappeared way back at the dawn of the universe. Nobody was sure if they were real or legend." The time traveling alien ranted, crossing across the room in a few long strides before turning back and repeating the motion.
"Well, I'm going for real." Marie smiled at Shakespeare, glad he was there to be sarcastic when she wasn't feeling up for it.
Martha bit her lip. "But what do they want?"
"A new empire on Earth. A world of bones and blood and witchcraft."
"But how?" Martha persisted, crossing her arms over her chest. Marie loved her best friend, she really did, but like all living things, she had her flaws. One of them was the constant desire to be the smartest one in the room. Usually Marie wouldn't count this trait as a flaw, but at the moment, her words were only serving to unsettle Marie further.
"I'm looking at the man with the words." The Doctor said simply, his pacing ceasing. Marie and Martha turned to look at the old poet, as if waiting for some incredible wisdom.
"Me? But I've done nothing." Shakespeare protested, distraught.
"What were you doing?" Marie asked, her voice small and almost alien since she had remained relatively silent for a while now. That being said, she still commanded the attention of everybody in the room. "Last night, when the Carrionite was in the room?"
"Finishing the play." William recited. Marie nodded, looking to her feet. She had said her part.
"What happens on the last page?" The Doctor asked, picking up on the same line of questioning.
The playwright shrugged. "The boys get the girls. They have a bit of a dance. It's all as funny and thought provoking as usual. Except for those last few lines. Funny thing is, I don't actually remember writing them."
"That's it," the Doctor breathed. "They used you. They gave you the final words like a spell, like a code. Love's Labor's Won, it's a weapon. The right combination of words, spoken at the right place with the shape of the Globe as an energy converter!"
"The play's the thing." Marie couldn't help but quote, making the Doctor turn to her and wink cheekily at her, grabbing her hand in his own and running out of the building.
"And yes, you can have that!"
The Doctor looked almost laughably hopeless at an incredibly inaccurate map, pointing at a general cluster of marked streets. "All Hallows Street. Martha, we'll track them down. Will, Marie, you get to the Globe. Whatever you do, stop that play."
Marie felt immensely uncomfortable leaving both the Doctor and Martha, but she knew she needed to stop the play, and it would be best if Shakespeare had some sort of backup.
"I'll do it." Shakespeare said, determined. "All these years, I've been the cleverest man around. Next to you, I know nothing."
"Oh, don't complain." Martha rolled her eyes.
"I'm not!" Shakespeare laughed. "It's marvelous."
"Marie, I need you to focus. Will can't do it without you." The Doctor said, his chocolate brown eyes gazing intently into her sharp blue ones. The pale engineer nodded, taking a deep breath and reminding herself to keep her anxiety in check so she could save the world.
"Good luck. Once more unto the breach." Marie said to her best friend and the Doctor. The alien grinned, winking at her and Martha hugged her quickly before the two linked hands and ran to All Hallows Street. Marie followed suit, grabbing on to Shakespeare's hand and running to the Globe.
"That was one of mine, wasn't it?" Shakespeare asked through heavy breathing, but still smiling. Marie couldn't help but smile back.
Marie came to her senses slowly, as if she was waking up from a twenty four hour long sleep. The first thing that registered in her mind was the noise. It was still muffled, but getting louder and clearer as the seconds ticked by. There was so much screaming. And somebody was shouting at her, right in front of her. Suddenly, Marie's bright blue eyes opened with a start, everything much clearer for her, and her heart dropped to her stomach.
The last thing she remembered was running on to the stage with Shakespeare, attempting to stop the play, and watching the old poet go down and then her world went black. And now the shouting made sense. The Carrionites.
The Doctor was looking at her and Shakespeare with an expression Marie couldn't quite place, but he eventually held his hand out to her, and she took it gratefully, standing up on legs that were shaky for a moment before she got her footing again. Marie quickly embraced Martha, and stood back.
"'Stop the play.' I think that was it. Yeah, I said 'stop the play!'" The Doctor exclaimed, scowling.
"I hit my head." Shakespeare said groggily, rubbing at the top of his head.
"Yeah, don't rub it, you'll go bald." The Doctor muttered before grabbing Marie and Martha's hand and dashing off to the stage, Shakespeare following close behind. Marie gaped at what she saw in the sky, right in front of her.
Shadows of witches were circling what sort of resembled a black hole, and were slowly turning more and more clear, as if they were getting stronger and closer to being actually there. The terrified people tried to leave, but the doors slammed shut in front of them. If anyone had asked Marie what the end of the world looked like before her life got turned upside down and she met the Doctor, she would have probably described a B-list apocalypse movie. But here, looking at the chaos in front of her, she was terrified that everything would end right then and there, in 1599.
"Come on, Will!" The Doctor shouted. "History needs you!"
"But what can I do?" Shakespeare asked, his eyes just as wide and terrified as Marie was sure hers looked.
"Reverse it!"
"How am I supposed to do that?" The poor poet looked so lost, so afraid. It pained Marie to see him this way.
"The shape of the Globe gives words power, but you're the wordsmith, the one true genius." The Doctor pleaded. "The only man clever enough to do it."
"But what words? I have none ready!"
Marie moved closer to the playwright, taking his hands in her own as best as she could with the Doctor's trench coat covering the majority of her hands. "Will, listen to me! I need you to trust me right now, more than you've ever trusted anybody in your life. You're one of the most important men to exist, past and future. Your words will last forever, your perfect, beautiful words with just the right sound, the right shape, and the right rhythm. Always, you chose the perfect words, and that's what I need you to do now. I need you to improvise." The engineer implored, looking into his eyes unwaveringly. "Please, Will."
Shakespeare nodded, taking a shaky breath and turning to the Carrionites, his hand clutching Marie's like it was a lifeline. "Close up this din of hateful, dire decay, decomposition of your witches' plot. You thieve my brains, consider me your toy. My doting Marie tells me I am not! Foul Carrionite specters, cease your show! Between the points…"
It was almost comical, Shakespeare looking to Marie for help, Marie turning to Martha, and Martha looking at the Doctor, who looked back at Shakespeare.
"Seven six one three nine oh!" The Doctor exclaimed, grinning like a fool.
"Seven six one three nine oh! Banished like a tinker's cuss, I say to thee…" Shakespeare looked to Marie for help again, but this time, the engineer knew exactly what to say.
"Expelliarmus!"
The Doctor and Martha echoed her in a cheer, shaking their fist at the black hole in the sky that was starting to fade away.
"Expelliarmus!" William Shakespeare exclaimed, and the Carrionites screamed, a tornado coming out of the black hole and sucking the alien women into the hole, along with a lot of loose paper.
"Good old JK!" Marie shouted, a wide grin decorating her face. She let out a laugh, feeling like herself again now that the crushing weight of the world ending in front of her was about to become a distant memory.
"Love's Labor's Won. There it goes." The Doctor sighed, shaking his head as if to say 'what a shame.' Shortly after his words, the sky cleared with a mighty flash and bang. There were a few moments of silence, something Marie would later describe as the sigh of relief before a lone person in the audience began clapping, then the rest of the people joining in.
"They think it was all special effects." Marie stated, shaking her head, side eying the Doctor, Martha, and Shakespeare. The old poet winked at her, running his eyes up and down her body (Marie really was beginning to detest the dress she wore for what was originally only supposed to be for a birthday party in her time).
"Your effect is special indeed." He all but purred, raising his eyebrows.
Marie could hear the Doctor scoff, but she didn't care. The pale engineer let out another laugh, squeezing Shakespeare's hand. "It's not your best line." She informed him.
Marie gently took Martha's hand in her own, and together, the three bowed for the cheering audience, none of them noticing the Doctor leaving them.
The Doctor had willingly pointed Marie in the direction of the TARDIS wardrobe, and the engineer was shocked to see one of the biggest rooms she could have ever imagined, filled with so many clothes her eyes couldn't even reach them all. Eventually, an errant thought passed through her mind, something along the lines of – How am I ever going to find anything in my size, or style? – and suddenly, clothes were pushed out of the way and replaced with things that looked like both something she could fit in and something she would wear. With a smile, Marie thanked the TARDIS and had eventually settled on a pair of cute yet comfortable jeans, combat-style boots, and a green v-neck shirt, paired with a lovely black leather jacket.
Finally comfortable and pleased with what the TARDIS had provided her, Marie strolled out of the TARDIS and into the Globe, the Doctor's tan trench coat folded over neatly and draped over her arms. The engineer smiled as she saw Martha and Shakespeare chatting (something she thought would be impossible up until she met the Doctor) and the Doctor wearing a small stiff ruff and carrying an animal skull.
"Ah, Marie. You look lovely." The Doctor grinned, motioning to her new outfit.
"Thank you, Doctor. Here's your coat back, sorry I had to take it hostage for a bit there." Marie said, and the Doctor waved her off, but took the coat from her outstretched hands and put it on with one hand.
"Good props store back there." The Doctor complimented as he noticed the other three looking at him each with very different, but all amused expressions. "I'm not sure about this skull, though. Reminds me of a Sycorax."
Shakespeare hummed, considering the word. "Sycorax. Nice word. I'll have that off you as well."
The Doctor sniffed, affronted, and looked at Marie. "We should be on ten percent."
Marie giggled, shrugging. She didn't mind. It was something to remind her of this incredible experience when she went back and read her old and tattered copies of Shakespeare play when the Doctor inevitably dropped her and Martha off back in their own time. Though, Marie had a sneaking suspicion he wouldn't be taking them back. Not yet, anyway.
"How's your head?" Marie asked the playwright. She hadn't awoken with head pains like he did, so that was a plus to being knocked out by an up-until-recently-thought-to-be-extinct alien race of women witches from before the dawn of time. At least they were moderately considerate.
"Still aching."
"Ah, that's why I got this." The Doctor beamed, taking off the ruff and placing it on Shakespeare. Marie stifled her giggles, making eye contact with Martha, the two raising their eyebrows. "Neck brace. Wear that for a few days till its better, although, you might want to keep it. It suits you."
"What about the play?" Martha asked.
"Gone. I looked all over. Every single copy of Love's Labor's Won went up in the sky."
Shakespeare frowned, mourning the loss of something he had worked hard on. Marie placed a reassuring hand to his shoulder, and he held his hand over hers with a soft smile of thanks. "My lost masterpiece."
"You could write it up again." Martha suggested, her heart warming at the camaraderie between her best friend and William Shakespeare.
"Yeah," the Doctor said, sucking in air through his teeth. "Better not, Will. There's still power in those words. Maybe it should best stay forgotten."
"Besides, you've written plenty of masterpieces already, and I'm sure you'll write even more." Marie encouraged. "I wasn't lying when I said your works will last forever."
Shakespeare's eyes shone as he looked at the pale engineer, picking up her hand and kissing it lightly. "I've got new ideas. Perhaps it's time I wrote about fathers and sons, in memory of my boy, my precious Hamnet."
"Hamnet?" Martha echoed, her eyebrows knitted together in confusion.
"That's him."
"Hamnet?"
Shakespeare frowned, defensive. "What's wrong with that?"
"Anyway," the Doctor cut in. "Time we were off. I've got a nice attic in the TARDIS where this lot can scream for all eternity, and I've got to take Marie and Martha back to Freedonia."
Shakespeare chuckled. "You mean travel on through time and space."
"You what?" The Doctor's face was almost laughable, and Marie and Martha had to cover their mouths to stifle their giggles.
"You're from another world like the Carrionites, and Marie and Martha are from the future. It's not hard to work out." The old poet stated plainly.
"That's… that's incredible." The Doctor smiled, a newfound appreciation for the genius before him. "You're incredible."
"We're alike in many ways, Doctor." Shakespeare said, thanking the Doctor in so few but so many words. "Martha, I shall never forget your stunning beauty and incredible mind. Thank you. And Marie, my dear, I'm afraid that unless you stay another day I wouldn't have the time to express how I feel. I could never thank you enough for your words, and for your inspiration in my life. Allow me to say goodbye to you in a new verse, a sonnet for my Dark Haired Lady. Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate."
Marie's grin could have lit up the entire globe. She was the Dark Haired Lady, the infamous Dark Haired Lady that Shakespeare ended up penning multiple works for. He didn't have to say anything more, history said the rest for him.
"Will, honestly, it was an honor and a pleasure to meet you. Remember what I told you, all of its true."
Just as Shakespeare was opening his mouth to say more, two people that Marie vaguely recognized as actors ran into the Globe with wide eyes and slack jaws.
"Will!" One of them shouted, waving his hands around.
"Will, you'll never believe it. She's here! She's turned up!" The other exclaimed, grinning ear to ear.
"We're the talk of the town. She heard about last night. She wants us to perform it again."
Marie quirked an eyebrow. Maybe it was for the best that they thought it was special effects as well, but even so. The engineer made eye contact with Martha, the Doctor, and Shakespeare, and the Doctor simply shook his head, amused.
"Who?" Martha questioned.
"Hey Majesty. She's here."
Fanfare filled the room, and none other than Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth the First strolled into the room with two pikemen, elegant and gorgeous despite her old age, her face impassive, but according to the two actors, she was impressed, so Marie supposed she really was like the history books say.
"Queen Elizabeth the First!" The Doctor cheered, beaming.
"Doctor?" Queen Elizabeth asked, frowning.
"What?" The Doctor reminded Marie a lot of a newborn puppy: confused, a little upset, wide eyed and hair that couldn't be tamed. One glance over at Martha confirmed that her best friend felt the same way, and the two grinned at each other.
"My sworn enemy!" Queen Elizabeth proclaimed, furious.
"What?" Marie had to bite her lip to stifle her laughs.
"Off with his head!"
"What?"
"Never mind what, just run!" Martha exclaimed, grabbing Marie and the Doctor by the hand and running out of the globe.
"Will! I'll never forget!" Marie called over her shoulder, smiling at the poet who saluted her with two fingers.
"Nor I!" William Shakespeare called, blowing a kiss.
"Stop that pernicious Doctor!" Queen Elizabeth ordered, and if Marie didn't know any better, she would say that she sounded very upset.
Marie laughed, running with her best friend and a very unexpected friend to the TARDIS. "What in the world did you do to earn the title pernicious from Queen Elizabeth the First?"
"How should I know? Haven't even met her yet. That's time travel for you. Still, can't wait to find out!" The Doctor exclaimed with glee, grinning at Marie and Martha. "That's something to look forward to. Oooh!"
* Taken from the novel Gray by Pete Wentz