sadhappygirl: I did. Sorry, but look, I have more for you. I feel bad for him too, and slightly evil for putting him in this position. haha. I'm glad you like him. He's a difficult character to write, but totally worth it.
Mystery Commenter: Thank you so much for the compliment! I'm very picky too, so it really makes me happy that you should enjoy my story so much. I do love cliffhangers.
Ayiana89: I'm glad you enjoyed it. We'll see...
Dengirl: Thank you very much! It was my favorite chapter to write so far.
He had tried so hard to open the doors, to close the ones that had been opened against his will, but each time he tried, the horrible, shadowy form of Akdevor would rush at him, slashing at him with invisible claws and he was forced to retreat to the only part of the hall that Akdevor could not yet touch. The Time War. He'd protected it with every last ounce of strength he had left. If Akdevor got to it, he would win. So the Doctor had retreated to guard that last door at whatever cost; the last stronghold in his mind.
Akdevor was patient. For some reason he had stopped his attack and instead hovered at the mental barrier that blocked his path, staring at the Doctor with hungry, maniacal eyes. He had not spoken, either, which the Doctor would have found curious if he had any energy left to wonder about it, but he didn't have time for worries like that. The barrier had to hold and he was putting everything he had into it. But it was weak. He knew that and he knew that Akdevor decided to attack now, it would not take him long to break through, so why was he hanging back?
He didn't look around the hall. The only doors that remained open were those of pain, sorrow or anger. Every door with anything good behind it had been shut long ago (how long ago was long ago? It could have been years, maybe minutes, but the Doctor had lost his sense of time at some point). It was an unnerving thing, not knowing the time. He always knew the time. Had Akdevor taken that, too?
He sat behind the barrier, head buried in his arms, which were resting against his raised knees, his hope gone. He was just waiting for the inevitable now and he wondered why he was letting it draw out like this. It would be easier to just let Akdevor in, let him ravage the last horrific memory he had and then it would be over. Yes, he'd turn into Legion, but he now began to wonder if that was such a bad thing. He wouldn't have to feel anymore, he wouldn't have to hurt anymore. No more tears, no more pain. Just nothing.
That was when he felt it.
"Fight me."
The Doctor clapped his hands over his ears, trying to drown out the hideous voice. A mind prodded at him. It was small, but he could still feel it.
"Fight me! Fight me or I will kill your friends. Everyone you have ever loved. I will slaughter them."
"NO!" he shouted. He grabbed at the mind and pulled it into focus, ready to fight it; to save his friends. He rose to his feet, clenching his fists, looking past the barrier, past Akdevor at the new thing that had appeared.
He didn't see much of it, probably because he was too tired, but he did see wings. Huge, dark, bat-like wings and a body connected to them. He saw luminous yellow eyes and they were focused on him.
"Time Lord!" the winged creature called to him.
The Doctor blinked, his anger evaporating, too startled to answer. Whatever this thing was had just let him to draw it in. That was odd, but one thing was clear. This creature was not Akdevor. That reminded him... He looked up as Akdevor turned and snarled at the intruder, his black smoke taking on a huge, hound shape.
The winged creature paid him no notice. "Time Lord. Do not be frightened."
The Doctor didn't feel comforted by this statement, but he continued to listen. The creature looked familiar, but he was too tired to figure out what it was.
"I am here to help," the winged figure said, turning to Akdevor, barring sharp, pointed fangs at it. The Doctor stared and suddenly noticed that there were two Akdevors in the room, one on either side of the newcomer. Neither Akdevors seemed to notice each other, but they did notice the winged creature and they turned to him, snarling viciously.
One Akdevor was bad enough. Two was just unthinkable. "What are you doing?" The Doctor asked in alarm. "Come here behind the barrier!"
The winged creature made no move towards him, but instead spread out its great wings and glanced between the two Akdevor's approaching it. "You have little time, Doctor. Find the light." With that, it launched itself at the Akdevor nearest the Doctor, disappearing in its smoke. The other Akdevor joined the fray until there was nothing but a violently stirring puff of smoke in the middle of the hall.
The Doctor stared in confusion and fear. Find the light? What light? He could see just fine, despite how dark and gloomy it was. He looked around, trying to figure out what was illuminating the hall, but there was nothing. He was just able to see. Slowly, he got to his feet, careful not to cross the barrier and rubbed his face with his hands, trying to get his groggy, tired mind to work. The more he thought, the more he felt the barrier weaken. He panicked and again focused his attention on the wall, reinforcing it once again.
This is ridiculous, he scolded himself. Are you just going to sit here and wait for that thing to take your soul? He disliked that idea very much, but the thought of letting the barrier fall seemed even worse.
So what? he told himself. You're doomed whether you sit here and wait for it or not. Might as well try being clever before He gets you. This thought cheered him a little. One last defiant stand sounded like a very good idea and, with a hesitant breath, he let the barrier fall and started hurrying through the hall, careful to avoid the raging puff of smoke where the two Akdevor's and the winged creature were fighting in its depths.
A light. He needed some sort of light. Or did he need a specific light? The creature had not specified. He decided to just start searching through his memories until he found something bright.
But to do that he needed all of the doors open.
Akdevor wasn't around to guard them, but they had been locked shut and there was no way he was going to be able to open them in his condition. He clenched his fists in frustration. How was he supposed to open these doors? He looked around the hall for anything he could use, but it was empty of anything but doors. He peered into a few of the open doors, but quickly looked away when he saw what was inside. Just bad memories. He looked across the hall, at the Time War's door, still closed, but probably not for long. Akdevor would likely win the fight against the winged creature and then he would tear that door from its hinges, taking what was left of the Doctor with it.
Then it occured to him that Gallifrey had had a beautiful sun. Maybe that would suffice? He ran to the other side of the long hall, grabbed the door handle and carefully opened the door. The memories rushed at him in painful waves, but he sorted through them, through all of the death and pain, focusing on his home. His family flashed brightly by and he felt a little warmth touch his icy skin, but he quickly ushered them away and groped at Gallifrey until he had what he wanted. The sun. He pulled it free of the memory and shut the door, holding it tightly in his hands. As he opened them to look at it, he frowned. That was not near bright enough. It was a sun, but there wasn't any light coming from it. He scowled and thrust it back into the door.
He paused, a thought suddenly occuring to him. His family had past. They were glowing. It was duller than he would have liked, but they were glowing. He glanced at the door again and winced. He didn't want to reach in there and bring them into focus. He'd killed them. Besides, he doubted they were bright enough.
But it gave him an idea.
He turned, looking around at the other doors. The puff of smoke was growing and it looked like whatever was within was thrashing. The fight was intensifying and he was quickly running out of time. He hurried to the door at the farthest side of the room- the most heavily blocked door in the hall (one he was very familiar with and often visited) and tried to pry it open, but it wouldn't budge. Grumbling in frustration, he stood back and took a deep breath. He could get in. It would exhaust the last of his energy, but he could get in. He just hoped that it would work.
He focused on the door, on the lock that was keeping him from entering. He sent all the mental strength he had at it, willing it to open. He heard a splintering crack and the door groaned. The effort nearly made him collapse, but he grabbed the doorhandle to catch himself, wincing wearily and gasping for breath. He was so tired.
The puff behind him suddenly seperated and a very beaten-looking winged creature appeared from the smoke, flashing fangs at the two puffs that had seperated. There was snarling, growling and howling from the three fighters. The fight had taken a toll on all three participants, though the winged creature had taken the brunt of the damage, covered in bruises, cuts and slashes. The only sign that the two now canine-shaped Akdevors displayed of the fight was that they looked smaller than before.
The Doctor hurriedly opened the door, reaching inside. He felt warmth and soft skin touch his hand. He smiled. He smiled and it nearly made him weep then and there out of pure joy and relief. He reached into that door and pulled out a glowing figure and then he reached in again and pulled out another, and another, and another. One after another, he pulled out his past companions. He pulled out Martha, Mickey, Harriet Jones, Jack, Rose, Ace, Peri, Melanie, Kamelion, Vislor, Harry, Leela, K9, Sarah, Jo, Liz, Brigadier, Zoe, Victoria, James, Ben, Polly, Dodo, Steven, Vicki, Ian, Barbara and Susan. 29 blazing figures entering the hall, all of them beautiful and wonderful.
The Doctor stared at them for a moment, leaning heavily against the wall and panting from exhaustion. He was fairly certain he was about to pass out- or die- but he wanted to hang on for a moment and look at his friends, all of them brilliantly illuminated. All of them as he remembered them; happy and full of compasion and potential. He closed the door full of the good memories of his friends and turned towards the two Akdevors, which were now shrieking and wailing in pain and agony as his companions approached them, making the hall nearly white with their light.
The winged creature was on the floor on its hands and knees, heavily beaten, wings curled in to protect itself. It looked up at the blinding lights, stared for just a moment and then vanished along with one of the Akdevors.
The Doctor watched as his friends grabbed the remaining Akdevor, smothering him until he just evaporated in a flash of light. And then the Doctor shut his eyes.
And then he opened them, gasping and groping for a lungful of air. He bolted upright and then immediately fell back down, too exhausted to hold up his trembling body. He felt sick physically, but his mind felt worse; like it had been ripped into tiny little shreds, but it was working. Slowly, but surely, it was working, registering his surroundings and recalling the events of the past... day and half. It had been a day and half. He nearly smiled. His time-sense was back.
His mind was too busy working on getting his body to function and repairing the damage done to his weary mind to really focus on the fact that he was looking up into Martha's worried face. It took him a good ten minutes to really appreciate what his eyes were trying to show him, but when at last his brain allowed him to really look around, he beamed a weak smile at her. "Martha," he said wearily.
She nearly burst into tears then, but held herself together, holding his head in her lap and stroking his hair. "Hi," she said, her voice cracking. She sounded exhausted and from the bags under her eyes, she had not gotten any sleep.
He looked past her at the roof and then around at the coral pillars, becoming aware of the metal grating he was laying on. It was uncomfortable, but he wasn't in the mood to complain about petty things like that. "We're in the TARDIS..."
She nodded. "Yeah. We brought you in about half an hour ago, I think," she said. "Don't know where we are, though. We did what you said with the sonic screwdriver. Where did we end up?"
"Cardiff," the Doctor replied, groaning as he tried to get up. Martha gently pushed him back down.
"Stay still. You're too weak to be moving right now."
"Oh, I'm fine, really," he said, but did not try to move again. He had nearly heaved. He turned his head, finding a grotesque head laying a few feet beside him, its white eyes locked in a dead stare. Its body was breathing too slowly, only taking in short inhales. He nearly jumped up and sprinted away at the sight of it, but a gentle, firm hand on his chest stopped him from doing so. He stared in alarm. "There's a Legion in my TARDIS."
"That's Grem," Martha said soothingly, as though this explained everything perfectly.
The Doctor eyed him warily. "He has a name?"
Martha nodded. "He saved your life."
The Doctor's brow raised in surprise and he looked at her. "But... how?"
"I don't know," Martha said. "He got you to make a psychic connection with him and then you both fainted."
"No, not that," he said, although he noted what she said for later, " I mean how is he not like the other Legion? They were all mindless."
Martha shrugged. "I don't know. He never said." She then began to relate everything that had happened since they were seperated, detailing everything that happened in case any of it was more important than it seemed.
The Doctor listened patiently, relieved to have a moments' rest. His body hurt, but his head hurt worse and it was comforting to have her talk to him. He kept looking at her and picturing the golden sun-glow around her. It made him smile a little.
"Glad to hear Amara got away. Where is she? And Jack?"
"They went to look for a med kit," Martha said, glancing over at Grem. He was still unconscious. Martha had apparently gotten some of her shirts and tended to his wounds as best she could, not knowing enough about the creature's anatomy to properly care for it. The Doctor stared at it with a grimace, looking into its eyes, searching for that spark of life. He didn't see it, but he decided he'd wait until it woke before making judgements. This creature had willingly allowed a Time Lord to pull him into his mind and not just any Time Lord; a cornered, scared Time Lord who wasn't of competely sound mind. Grem couldn't have known that the Doctor was too weak to hurt him, but then the creature he had appeared as in the Doctor's mind had seemed familiar with the Doctor's origins. It had also been familiar to the Doctor, but he still couldn't quite place what it was. His head was still groggy and tired.
His thoughts were interrupted when Jack and Amara returned. Jack grinned at the sight of the Doctor. "Look at you! You're not still hallucinating, are you?"
"Depends... do you often wear tutus?"
Jack and Martha laughed and the Doctor joined them, if a little less jovially. It felt good, like a heavy weight was being lifted from his chest. The Doctor looked at Amara and smiled at her. "Hello. How are you feeling?"
"Like you are," Amara replied.
The Doctor nodded in understanding.
Amara fidgeted with the end of her shirt, obviously itching to say something, but hesitant.
The Doctor frowned. "I'm sorry, I don't have the strength yet," he said apologetically. "I will as soon as I can."
She gave a short, disappointed nod.
The Doctor smiled again, but looking at her had cleared his mind somewhat and images of Legion started to fill his mind; screaming and trapped in their own tortured minds. Swallowing, he very slowly started to push himself up. Martha tried to stop him, but he gave her a reassuring look and she helped him sit. He reeled, but only for a moment. He collected himself and then had Jack and Martha help him stand. Both of them gave him concerned looks, but didn't try to stop him.
He leaned wearily against the console of the TARDIS, looking up at her engines in deep thought. "Martha, does your mother hate me?" he asked.
Martha blinked at him. "What? No, she doesn't... hate you, but she doesn't really-"
The Doctor waved his hand dismissively. "I get it. She hates me. I guess then she would't react well if I dropped you, Jack and Amara off at her home?"
"What? Why? Where are you going?" Martha asked.
The Doctor sighed. "Back."
Jack gaped at him. "Back? We just got out! We can't go back."
"I didn't say we," he said, turning towards the controls.
Martha shook her head in disbelief at him. "No. That's... that's ridiculous! You're still not thinking clearly."
He started pressing buttons and pulling levers, ignoring her.
"Doctor, listen to me," Martha said sternly. He didn't turn to her, didn't acknowledge her.
"Doc," Jack started carefully, "Why are you going back?"
The Doctor hung his head. "Because..." He found himself having difficulty finding words. "Because of all those people I left behind. They're stuck. Trapped in their own minds," he said softly, feeling a lump form in his throat.
"You are weak."
The Doctor cringed at the voice, turning as Grem got shakily to his feet, ghostly eyes fixed upon the Time Lord. The Doctor stared back, searching the white eyes.
He found it.
And he knew what he had been.
The Doctor stared at him, stunned into silence. Grem regarded him expressionlessly, kind-of jutting his head towards him as though to test whether or not he was safe. The Doctor felt extremely uncomfortable having him there (particularly now that he knew what he was), in the TARDIS, and he felt that she didn't like it, either. But she was tolerating him and he didn't question her judgement. He nodded in greeting, folding his arms across his chest. "Hello. I hear you remember your name."
He scowled. "We are Legion."
The Doctor felt like vomiting at that statement, and he shut his eyes to collect himself.
"I am... Grem."
The Doctor looked at him again with interest. That was something. "Hello, Grem."
Grem huffed.
Martha, Jack and Amara watched in silence, glancing between the two with interest. Tension had built in the room, and everyone could feel it.
"I need the Doctor," he said.
"What for?"
Grem flicked his dead eyes at Amara and then at the Doctor again. "I cannot remember. You must help me to remember."
The Doctor sighed, unfolding his arms. "I'm too tired. I can't right now."
Grem made a noise- the Doctor thought it might have been a chuckle, although it could have been a scoff. "Then you cannot go back." Alright, it had been a scoff.
"I have to," the Doctor said. "They need me."
Grem shook his head fervently. "The Doctor must rest. He would break you now."
"He's right," Martha interjected. "You can't go back in your condition."
The Doctor rubbed his face with his hands in frustration. "You don't understand!" he barked. It hadn't been intentional and he felt bad for it, but he couldn't stop himself. "I can't let them spend one more second like that! They're being tortured, driven mad. Marcol-" He stopped, unable to continue. He was breathing heavily, close to tears, but he fought them off. The doors that had been cruelly and ruthlessly opened in his mind flooded his thoughts with pain and misery and he had only just enough energy to keep them at bay. He leaned heavily against the TARDIS console and it purred to comfort him.
Martha went to him and brought him into a hug, laying her head on his shoulder. "I know. We don't understand. But you can't help them in your condition. Do you understand that?"
He looked at floor, everything rushing at him at once. He was angry; angry for what Akdevor had done and what he had been unable to prevent, sad for those he left behind, trapped in their minds to be driven slowly insane, and ashamed. Once again, he hadn't been there when people needed him. He had been rendered a helpless, weeping wreck. He was exhausted, drained, defeated. He had no mental barriers to protect himself from the miserable thoughts that did not creep, but leapt to his mind, bombarding him. He felt himself shaking and new he was crying, but didn't really care anymore.
The Doctor gently removed himself from Martha's arms, standing on unsteady feet and then walked around the console to his chair, gently sitting down on it. "I think I'm going to rest for a bit. I suggest all of you do the same."
Jack nodded as though it had been an order and then gestured to Martha and Amara. He turned to Grem, but found the beast laying down on the grating and resting his head on his massive paws, apparently ready to sleep right there. "Okay... Um, come on, Amara. We'll find your room," he said, taking her hand and leading her down one of the hallways of the TARDIS. Martha followed after, casting one last, concerned look at the Doctor before heading off to bed.
The Doctor pretened to be deep in thought until he was sure they were gone and then sat forward on the seat, running a hand through his hair in thought.
"You must rest," Grem said. His head was up. He didn't look tired, either.
The Doctor glanced at him and then looked at the console again, covering his mouth and nose with his hands. "I can't rest."
"You must."
The Doctor looked at him, dropping his hands so that his arms rested lazily on his knees. He paused, staring at him thoughtfully. "How'd you do it?"
Grem cocked his head.
"How did you fight him off? By yourself..."
Grem looked at the floor. "Light. I found light."
"Yes. That's what you told me to do-" He noticed that Grem looked confused and he guessed that he didn't remember what happened when they'd psychically connected. "-but how did you know to do it?"
"I... do not remember. He was known to me."
"You knew what he was?" the Doctor asked.
Grem shifted where lay, switching from one side to the other uncomfortably as he struggled to remember. "I... was... one of the first. Of Legion. I am not sure. Martha believes I am old."
"You are," the Doctor said.
Grem raised his head in curiosity. "You know what I am?"
"Pretty sure," the Doctor replied.
"That is yes?"
He nodded.
Grem waited expectantly, eyes seemingly brighter with anticipation.
"I think you're the last Great Vampire," he said slowly, watching Grem's response carefully. It was exactly what he'd thought it would be; a blank stare. He didn't know what he was talking about and he continued to stare at the Doctor, waiting for him to explain. "A small one, and not as strong as the others, but a Great Vampire nonetheless."
Grem appeared to search his memory. "I remember great wings."
The Doctor nodded.
He looked up. "I remember a war."
He had been afraid of that. He swallowed. "Yes."
Grem violently shook his head, snarling in frustration. "I do not remember."
The Doctor stared at him for a moment, thinking about what he'd done for him, what he'd risked and had been willing to sacrifice to save the Doctor. Deciding, he sighed. "Come here."
Grem looked at him suspiciously, but obliged, coming up so that he stood beside the Doctor's seat. The Doctor repositioned himself so that he faced Grem, was staring into his ghostly eyes. He tried not to look away, or cringe, or grimace or show any sign that Grem's appearance bothered him. Instead, he reached up and put his fingers on Grem's leathery temples and thumbs below his cheek bone. He then shut his eyes.
It took more effort than he'd thought it would to enter Grem's mind and when he came into the hall of doors, it became apparent why.
The doors were saturated with black smoke. Like they had rotten. The whole hall was suffocated in the smoke, although it wasn't so thick that he couldn't see. Small, hissing, canine Akevor's passed through the shadows, circling something lik scavengers waiting for their prey to die. At the other end of the hall, he saw the last Great Vampire, laying on the floor, holding his wounds and hanging his head in exhaustion. He looked up as the Doctor approached.
"Time Lord," he said, bowing his head respectfully.
The Doctor bowed in return, looking at the battered and bruised being before him. His wings were torn to shreds, little bits hanging off uselessly. His grey body was raked with gashes and bruises. The Doctor frowned, putting his hands into his pockets to hide the fact that they were shaking. There was nothing but darkness in the Great Vampire's tarnished, broken mind. He was surprised Grem was able to function as well as he was with what was happening inside of him.
Grem looked around the hall sadly. "I know," he said.
The Doctor looked at him sadly. "I'm so sorry... but this is beyond me. If I could-"
Grem nodded understandingly, his yellow eyes looking around the suffocating darkness in dispair. "You are not to blame. I have been Legion too long."
"I'm sorry," the Doctor said sincerely.
Grem shrugged. "I won't understand. My mind is too polluted with that foul being to comprehend what has happened to me. You must make me understand."
The Doctor nodded, glanced around the room, frowning. Here he was, invited into the mind of a Great Vampire -enemy of the Time Lords- trying to help him, only to find that he was too far gone to save. He might heal, slowly, but he would never be the same. He would forever be Legion. He looked at Grem again. "Why did you trust me?"
Grem smiled. "Rassilion misled the Time Lords concerning my race. He made us appear to be monsters. You know this... but I heard about you, Doctor. Long ago. You were not like other Time Lords. I knew you were capable of seeing me for what I am; not what Rassilion claimed me to be."
"He lied about everything, then?" the Doctor asked.
Grem nodded. "We were not murderers. We were content to eat bred livestock."
"I heard," the Doctor replied. He believed him. He was silent for a moment, staring around the darkness. Even if he'd been well rested, he knew that helping Grem would be next to impossible and the thought got him angry. Just another creature he couldn't save.
"You wanted to know how I did it?" Grem asked, breaking the Doctor from his dark thoughts.
The Doctor nodded.
Grem made to stand, but his legs gave out on him. The Doctor didn't move to help him, knowing that it would only shame him. He watched sadly as Grem sighed in surrender and pointed a weary hand down the hall. "That door. At the end. My family is in there. All of the happy moments I had with them. It came to me when I saw your box. Something clicked inside of me. It was anger at first and I did not understand why it made me angry. Then I felt them." He looked at the door at the end of the hall. "They are not very bright, but they protect me from losing myself."
The Doctor looked at the door at the end of the hall and then at Grem. "May I?"
Grem nodded.
The Doctor turned and walked down the hall, stopping at the door. It was locked, guarded by a layer of black smoke, but not very well. It could be opened if Grem wanted in badly enough. The Doctor unlocked the door and banished the smoke guarding it with difficulty, but he remained standing this time. He opened the door. Great Vampires, glowing dimly, greats wings carrying them, came out of the door and into the hall. They burned away some of the smoke, but there was too much of it, too deeply rooted and they were not bright enough to repel all of it.
Grem smiled at the sight of them. "That should give me clarity for a short while. Will I remember?"
"I don't know," he replied honestly. "You may. I think it depends on whether or not that door gets shut again." He gestured to the door Grem's glowing family was emerging from. "When I'm better rested, I'll give you some extra help to keep it open."
"Thank you. I would be grateful."
The Doctor nodded and pulled away, returning to the TARDIS. He looked at Grem, his eyes no longer ghostly white. They were yellow, very subtly fogged.
"Grem?" he asked.
"Time Lord," Grem acknowledged. "You will not win against Akdevor, even with the knowledge you have now."
"I know," the Doctor admitted.
"What is your plan, then?"
The Doctor leaned back in the chair, groaning wearily. "I don't know. I thought I'd wing it."
"Do not be foolish. If you do this, you must free them all at once."
"I know."
Grem thought, eyes fixed on the floor in concentration. "Akdevor is the last of his kind... and the weakest. He is not as strong as he proclaims himself to be."
"Well, I have an idea, but there's the problem of all of those minds I need to free all at once. I just don't have that in me."
"Then you must be amplified," Grem stated.
"That would take a while."
"Good. You need rest," he said and then returned to the spot he had been laying. He laid down, rested his head on his paws again.
"Are you going to sleep? It's a bit late in the day," he said, attempting a light joke, but it fell flat.
"I do not know if I will remember this in a few moments, but if that is the case, I would like to sleep without nightmares, if only one more time."
The Doctor nodded and then leaned back on the seat, staring up at the ceiling. He thought about Grem and the Great Vampires. There had been a time whe he had been so sure they were evil. He'd later found something that had suggested otherwise, but now that he'd met Grem, been in his mind, he knew that Rassilion must have lied. This shouldn't have been a surprise to him, but he couldn't help but feel a little disbelief.
He also thought about the tremendous task at hand. He needed to save those people all at once and as the TARDIS hummed to him, low and comforting, he was fairly certain he knew how to do it.
We're coming up on the end here, I think. It's actually a little depressing, since I've been using this as an outlet for different reasons. At least I can focus on my other book. Still, I'm going to miss writing this when it's over... but not yet.
If I forgot any companions, I apologize. I haven't ever actually watched any of the old Doctor Who. Also, for those of you who are like me in this regard, and are confused as to what a Great Vampire is and who some of the people mentioned were, you can look it up if you're interested at this site: tardis. wiki .com without the spaces.
It has all of the Doctor Who information you'll need. It's especially helpful when writing a Doctor Who fic.