Chapter Seven: Show Yourself
Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Nunc aliquet sapien ac felis varius finibus. Aliquam sed justo suscipit, fringilla justo et, ultricies lorem. Pellentesque blandit odio aliquet sapien bibendum lobortis. Integer vel nisl libero – riverrun, past Eve and Adam's, from swerve of shore to bend of bay, brings us by a commodius vicus of recirculation back to Howth Castle and – it is a truth universally acknowledged – words words words – delorem ipsum – people assume that time is a strict progression of – pain itself – or words – forty-five, forty-five – it was the worst of times, it was the worst of times – the offing was barred by a black bank of clouds, and the tranquil waterway leading to the uttermost ends of the earth flowed sombre under an overcast sky – forty-five? forty-five – "my, my, the landing is rather rough this time. I hope the Doctor's companions don't end up dead. Don't think the Doc would be too pleased" – forty-five, or maybe fourty-five (but no) – where a broken row of houses stood between us and the harbour, and where the eye encountered all sorts of stratagems – conveyance – four – nobody's there – five – nobody | ˈnəʊbədi/ | (pronoun) | no person; no one –
– "so the man picks up the parrot and tosses him into the freezer to teach him a lesson, see? And he hears the bird squawking for a few minutes, but all of a sudden the parrot is quiet. And the man opens the freezer door and the parrot walks out, looks up at him and says," –
"...ouch!" went Hex, hitting the ground at an unpleasant angle, which was beginning to be a recurring theme. He ended up face down (of course), and noted quite randomly to himself that the floor was made of some rough sort of sandstone.
He rolled over onto his back, wincing. Ace was within arm's reach, doing much the same. They were in between shelves, that much he could tell, although his eyesight was still more than a bit blurry, so he couldn't see much else.
"Yeah, intertextual travel doesn't tend to mix well with humans," said Nobody No-One, who looked perfectly unruffled, was standing upright, and was leaning on an umbrella nearby in a manner that very much indicated he was trying to emulate the Doctor. "Or any inhabitants of this reality, honestly!" He winked, and flipped the umbrella end-over-end, catching it neatly. "I'm surprised you didn't throw up."
Hex's vision cleared, allowing him to sit up properly without incident and glance around. His suspicions that had been aroused upon seeing the shelves around them was now confirmed: they were definitely in some sort of ancient library, because the shelves around him stretched out as far as the eye could see, and all of them were filled to bursting with hundreds upon thousands of scrolls – lined up neatly and organized with labels and subsections.
"Whoa," he couldn't help saying aloud. Despite the situation, it was an awe-inspiring sight. They were in some kind of grand hall designed specifically for the purpose of keeping all of these scrolls. There weren't windows, not exactly, anyway. Instead, there were panels that looked like they had been made out of very thin stones, and the panels glowed with natural light that seemed to come from the sun outside. At one end of the hall – too far away to run to, but just visible – was a pair of massive stone double doors. And as far as Hex could tell, there were no people around at all. The place was completely abandoned.
He turned his attention back to their captor, who had started whistling some sort of tune that sounded suspiciously and disturbingly like the Pokémon theme song.
The umbrella that Nobody was now carrying wasn't the Doctor's, exactly, although that didn't change the feeling of wrongness that came along with seeing it. Its canvas was rainbow-patterned, loud and garish in the way that the Doctor tended to detest, and although its handle was molded into the shape of a question mark, the color was a bright, eye-popping pink.
"Okay," said Hex, "where exactly are we? And when?" he added, almost as an afterthought. It wasn't a question he would have been asking if there wasn't the possibility of time travel being involved.
"Ancient Egypt," said Nobody, apparently willing to share. "545 AD, to be exact. The Doctor set the meeting place," he added, frowning, "but I don't know why he chose the Library of Alexandria, of all places – if anything, all the words nearby are going to make me even more powerful."
"The Library of Alexandria?" Ace asked, with a raised eyebrow. "That would be the same Library of Alexandria that ended up getting burnt to the ground, right?"
Hex winced. He had made the connection too, but there was no way that the fact that they were here wasn't part of the Doctor's plan, and if Ace had just inadvertently messed the whole thing up...
"Yeah, I know that," Nobody sing-songed at her, rolling his eyes. "But I got to choose the time and date for our little meet-and-greet, and I chose a point ages after it was first destroyed, and a long time before it's going to be destroyed again, permanently. I'm not stupid." He glanced from side to side. "But he evidently is. Where is he? Doesn't he know I've got things to do; places to be?"
With Nobody muttering angrily to himself, Hex was almost comically startled when Ace nudged him and whispered-shouted at him, "look!"
He gave her a quizzical look and followed her gaze upward, to the ceiling. In a plaque set high above the bookshelves, a phrase was carved, large enough so anybody browsing the scrolls would be able to see it: The place of the cure of the soul. "Uh – that's nice, but... what am I supposed to be looking at?"
"That's Latin, Hex!" Ace said, clearly excited about this. "We're in Alexandria, and it should be written in Latin, but we're reading it in English!"
"We're–? Oh," Hex said, getting it. "The TARDIS! The translation thing –"
"Right! It's gotta be nearby!" Ace rose up onto her toes, trying to see over the shelves, and spot any sign of their big blue box.
Hex nearly started to do the same, but then noticed Nobody watching them. Apparently he had realized the same thing as them, because although he didn't physically change in any way, he seemed to become bigger in many respects – absorbing more light, more time, more space (although it was hard to pinpoint exactly how he was doing this). He strode towards the intersection at the end of the row of shelves they were in, umbrella in the crook of one arm, and a gleeful, almost sadistic grin crossing his face.
"Doctor!" he practically screamed, slamming a foot down onto the ground, and a wave of force, intangible and indescribable radiated outwards from where he had done so, blowing back Ace's hair and making Hex stumble back a step. Reality seemed to flicker slightly. "I know you're there! Show yourself!"
Something in his words was inhumanly powerful – they seemed to contain a particular sort of electric energy in them that was making Hex's hair stand on end. They echoed for much longer than they should have, and Hex was suddenly aware of how very scared he was.
And then there was silence, so complete that nothing should have been able to break it.
But barely a second passed before another sound reached them – footsteps, slow and measured. Accompanying them, like a percussive instrumental, the faint, irregular tapping of an umbrella's tip on sandstone floor.
"There's really no need to shout," said a voice very softly indeed, the sound nonetheless carrying across the entire library. And the Doctor, twirling his umbrella with familiar ease, stepped out from behind a row of shelves, and came to a halt, tapping the tip against the ground twice. "Good afternoon," he said pleasantly.
"Professor!" Ace exclaimed immediately upon seeing him, equal parts delight and exasperation.
Even from a distance, Hex could see the worry and anger that was tightening around the Doctor's eyes. It was subtle, but definitely there. But the thing was, as soon as he saw Hex and Ace, about half of all that faded, and he almost smiled. He inclined his head slightly; a silent question.
Hex gave him a tentative double-thumbs up and an utterly terrified look. The Doctor's eyes crinkled up slightly in apparent amusement, but he didn't say anything. Instead, he turned to look at Nobody, and frowned. "It's evidently not enough that you've stolen my old scarf," he said rather dryly. "I see you've decided to bastardize my old umbrella, too."
Nobody grinned widely and tossed it up into the air, twirling it around as he caught it. "We match now!" he said, displaying the hot pink question-mark handle proudly to everybody in the vicinity. "Twinsies!"
"I sincerely hope not," said the Doctor, and Hex could see the grip on the handle of his own umbrella tightening ever so slightly. "Ace? Hex? Would you mind coming over here?"
Hex definitely wasn't about to argue, and in fact had already been in the process of going, but Ace had already grabbed his wrist – "come on, you" – and began to speed-walk (it was closer to a run, actually) in the Doctor's direction, dragging him behind her.
"Actually," said Nobody loudly but somewhat lazily, "I don't think Ace wants to do that, now – does she?"
Even as the words left his mouth, Ace had already frozen in place, but definitely not willingly. She glanced down at her feet, which were firmly planted on the ground, and made a noise of utter frustration. "Goddammit."
"Ace?" The Doctor's eyes had gone narrow and he looked worried. "Oh no, Ace – what did he do?" He whirled on Nobody. "What did you do?"
Nobody just smirked. "Hey, I didn't force her to say 'nobody tells me what to do'. That was all her."
Ace grimaced, still frozen to the ground. Hex was hovering very close to her, completely unsure of what to do – stay with her, or go to the Doctor? He wasn't sure what the Doctor wanted him to do in this situation, anyway.
"...I fucked up, Professor," Ace said, uncharacteristically contrite. "Sorry."
"Oh, Ace..." He looked very old and very sad for a moment, but then the corner of his mouth twitched. "Mind your language."
Ace grimaced pointedly at him, very much not amused by this.
Nobody coughed loudly, evidently fed up at this. "Excuse me. I can tell you're absolutely delighted to see each other, etcetera, etcetera, so on and so forth, but are you really going to give yourself up, Doctor? Or is this all just an excuse for bad wordplay?" He paused, and then added, "which I don't object to, per se, I'd just really rather, y'know, get on with it."
"But of course," said the Doctor placidly. "First, however, I'd rather like the opportunity to reconcile with my friends, however briefly – if that is quite all right with you?"
Ace and Hex exchanged a significant look. As Ace had once said to Hex, a (relatively) very long time ago: The length of time the Doctor spends rolling his rs is directly proportional to the amount of shit that's about to go down. And right now, he was rolling them for all he was worth.
"Feeling sentimental?" Nobody wondered, eyebrow quirked slightly.
"If you like," the Doctor agreed. "As well as some... other things. You are planning to have me killed at some point, you know," he pointed out. "I need to set some affairs in order."
Nobody tapped his (the Doctor's?) umbrella thoughtfully on the ground – once, twice, and then he sighed dramatically. "Fine," he said, throwing another vast roll of his eyes in for good measure, "but only because I'm nice. Take four minutes, then – actually, four-and-a-half; I'm feeling super generous for some reason!" He bounced – literally bounced into the air – and landed on the top of one of the shelves. Reality seemed to warp around him ever so slightly so he didn't actually have to duck to prevent himself from bumping his head on the ceiling. He waved a hand magnanimously at them from his unconventional throne. "Go forth!"
"Oi," said Ace angrily, failing to move from where she was.
"Oh, sorry." Nobody flicked a hand dismissively. "Yeah, you can go hang out with them. Don't do anything I wouldn't!"
Hex grabbed Ace's shoulder to steady her as she stumbled, and then the two of them ended up sort of dragging each other – it was hard to tell who was doing more work – away from Nobody No-One.
They were within meters of the Doctor when Nobody spoke up again. "Oh," he said, with the air of somebody suddenly realizing something, "Ace – if the Doctor tries anything funny... would you be a dear and choke yourself?"
Ace paused for a second, and her teeth audibly ground together. "Well, I don't exactly have a choice now, do I?" she spat.
The Doctor, too, was frowning. "Is that really necessary?"
Nobody flipped his umbrella up into the air, and when it came back down again, it was a cricket bat – although the handle was still pink. He stuck out his lower lip, pursed it. "I don't know. Is it?" Another flip. Now the cricket bat's handle was still pink, but now in the shape of a question mark, which was more than a bit impractical. "Are you planning on trying anything funny?"
"No," said the Doctor instantly. His expression was hard to read. "No," he said again, "no, I'm not," and then, to Ace and Hex, with that familiar tone that said hurry up all over, "come along, you two – we don't have all day."
As soon as they got within barely an arm's reach of him, he began hurriedly shepherding them sideways – to a set of shelves beyond Nobody's line of sight. It was very sudden, and Hex ended up tripping over and hitting the ground yet again – and since the Doctor was holding onto both his and Ace's shoulders, the two of them ended up doing much the same, and the end result of all of this was that they all were sitting on the ground in an impromptu, uneven triangle. It seemed to be a silent agreement between them that they would pretend they had meant to do this.
"Professor!" said Ace again, "why the hell would you come here? He's planning to kill you –"
The Doctor didn't get up, exactly, but he hauled himself into a kneeling position, adjusting his hat. "Come closer," he said, hurriedly but rather quietly too. "We have to talk. I have no doubt that our friend out there is listening in, but I have no wish to make it an easy task for him."
Obligingly, Hex shuffled closer, and Ace did too, and when they were all practically knee-to-knee, the Doctor did something very unexpected, and more than a little uncharacteristic – he swept the two of them into a tight hug.
"Uh," went Hex, nonplussed. The Doctor almost never did anything that went anywhere near the territory of 'physical affection'. Brief brushes – taps of the nose, a hand clapped to the shoulder, a guiding touch to the elbow – yes, okay, those were occasional and expected, but they were generally directed towards Ace specifically.
Ace made a surprised little noise that quickly turned into a laugh. "Of course," she said, "like this day wasn't weird enough already. Next you'll be apologizing."
"I really should; this entire situation is at least partly my fault," the Doctor said, squeezing lightly.
"Who are you," Hex said, only partly joking, "and what have you done with the Doctor."
He patted Hex on the back once and then withdrew to face them both properly again, looking almost anxiously between the two of them. Hex felt as if he were being x-rayed. "Are you all right? Did he harm you in any way?"
"I'm fine, but Ace –" Hex began, but Ace swiftly cut across him.
"He's not fine, his hand is well messed up, look –" She grabbed his arm, forcing it upwards. Hex tried to tug it back, but only succeeded in jarring his already-tender wrist even further, and he hissed in pain.
"Let me look at that," the Doctor said, joining the tug-of-war for Hex's hand, but with a considerably more gentle touch. Hex acceded after a moment, although somewhat reluctantly, and let the Doctor examine his painfully burnt hand that he just hadn't had time to attend to, with everything that had been going on.
"He said five minutes," Hex said, trying not to develop a nervous twitch (although honestly that should have already happened by now). "Shouldn't you be –?"
"I can multitask," the Doctor said, and pulled out his sonic screwdriver, buzzing it back and forth over Hex's hand. "The TARDIS –"
"It's nearby?" Ace asked eagerly.
"Yes, yes, yes, just beyond that row of shelves," the Doctor said impatiently, indicating the shelves in question with his free hand. "The door's unlocked. Get inside as soon as you can, and Ace – you do know where the emergency return switch is, don't you?"
Ace bit her lip, and then nodded. "Back to Earth?"
"Mm," the Doctor said, and switched settings. The pain was starting to recede, and Hex let out a breath he hadn't been aware he was holding. "Mister Hex's time, rather than yours. Hopefully you'll be able to... well." The sonic screwdriver was switched off, and the Doctor released his light hold on Hex's hand. "Never mind that for now. Is that better?"
"Y-yeah. A lot. Thanks."
"I'm glad," he said. "Hopefully you'll be up to throwing and catching any number of things that come your way soon enough."
He had probably intended that to sound utterly jolly and off-hand, but here was a moment; a very long moment, in which Ace and Hex just looked at him without any surprise whatsoever. This was exactly the sort of non-sequitur of a comment that tended to mark the beginning of the Doctor's latest chess-like grand scheme. And for once, Hex wasn't even annoyed.
But then Ace's arm twitched, moved ninety degrees upwards to rest at her throat, and her eyes widened. "Uh – Professor, if you were, you know, feeling the inclination to plan anything 'funny', not that you would or anything – I think I'd feel a lot safer for once if you kept me completely in the dark about it."
The Doctor shot her a look that implied that she was the one who had uttered the non-sequitur, not him. "Ace, I'm wounded." It was light in tone, but he genuinely appeared to have no idea what she was talking about. "Not everything is a plan or scheme, you know."
Hex stared at the Doctor. "Doc – you're not really going to –?"
"No tricks," he said grimly. "No plans. Not this time." He swept his umbrella from the floor and into his lap, and wrapped his hands tightly around the handle, as if it were a lifeline of some sort. "You heard the Word Lord. If I try anything, Ace... well. Self-asphyxiation," he pronounced the words quite delicately, but with no small amount of distaste, "is quite a nasty way to go."
Ace pressed her lips together, and really didn't look happy. "I – Doctor. You know I wouldn't blame you if you just went and –"
"I know," he said, cutting across her. "And I'm not going to. And if you thought I would," he added, giving her a Look, "you don't know me as well as I'd expect you to by now."
She looked slightly abashed by this, but not much. "But," she began, and didn't get a chance to continue.
"Okay, look," said Hex, "he only specified consequences if the Doctor does something, but what if I'm the one that comes up with the plan, and I..." He trailed off. He couldn't think of a plan. The Doctor was giving up, and there was no plan. "Ace can't do it, because of – of the word thing that he did to her, and you – you can't. Because of Ace. But if she knows that you're not the one doing it, then maybe?"
"Mister Hex." The Doctor's hand was on his shoulder, and his gaze was warm, although more than a bit sad. "I appreciate your concern, but I rather suspect that at the first sign of any trickery, he'll simply order Ace to choke herself anyway. Or worse," he said, with the faintest hint of a dark expression creeping over his features.
"Get on with it, why don't you?" came Nobody No-One's voice, carrying with it a distinct air of annoyance. "Are you planning to die today or what."
"Just a moment," called the Doctor, almost cheerfully, and then turned his attention back to the two humans sitting in front of him. His expression sharpened, became more serious somehow. "I reiterate: get to the TARDIS. As soon as you can. There is absolutely no guarantee that Nobody will hold up his end of the bargain, so you need to leave his sphere of influence as soon as possible."
"Why the hell did you agree to this, then?" Hex's eyes were wide. "If you know that he might not even–"
"Because it was my only option," he said, pressing a hand to the ground as if to steady himself. "Believe me when I tell you that there is absolutely, physically and completely no way for any being from this dimension to enter or exit a Word Lord's CORDIS without being explicitly taken there or removed by the Word Lord themself. The only way you would have left the CORDIS otherwise is dead or enslaved, or some gruesome mixture of both!"
"We're not worth that much!" Ace retorted. "The universe can get on well enough without me and Hex, Professor, but it can't handle your loss."
"I hate to say it, but Ace is right," Hex said, biting his lip. "I know we give you a lotta crap about manipulating us and all, but – what she said. The universe isn't going to last very long, I reckon. Not without you around."
"The universe can learn to cope!" the Doctor snapped, furious, and then that anger softened, turning into something gentler, more regretful. "We don't have time to argue. Just promise me –"
"The TARDIS. Yeah, we got that," said Hex.
"Good." He stared at them, an unreadable expression on his face. There was a brief moment wherein it almost looked as if he was going to pull them into another hug, but instead he stood up, motioning for them to do the same. "Ace –"
Ace scowled. "I heard you – TARDIS, I know. I'm impulsive, not stupid –"
"That wasn't what I was going to say," he told her, almost gently, and placed his red-handled umbrella into her hands. She stared at it for a long moment, apparently not understanding. She didn't move to hold it herself. After a second, the Doctor reached out and closed her fingers around it.
"N-no." Her voice cracked slightly. "Professor, this is yours. I can't..."
"Take care of it for me," he told her solemnly, and pressed a finger lightly to the tip of her nose. Just as quickly, he turned away. "Mister Hex –"
"Yeah?" Hex said, and the Doctor flipped his white Panama hat down off his head and through the air towards him. Without thinking, he caught it.
"Hold onto my hat," the Doctor told him, the corner of his mouth curling up slightly.
Hex, much like Ace had; simply stared at the hat, uncomprehending.
The Doctor sighed. "Oh, really. Must I do everything myself?" He reached forward, plucked it out of his hands, and spun it neatly in the air before depositing it neatly on top of Hex's head. He stepped back, and did that thing of his where he smiled with just his eyes. "There you are. It suits you."
"No, it doesn't," said Ace, clutching onto the umbrella so hard her knuckles were beginning to turn white. "It looks ridiculous."
He smiled properly, then inclined his head towards them – a simple, grave nod; communicating what words couldn't.
And then he turned to the main aisle of books, and with the mournful air of a person about to attend his own funeral, began to walk. And within minutes, he was standing before the shelf where Nobody was perched, glaring upwards at the Word Lord.
"Well?" he said – impatient in the way that only the Doctor could be when faced with almost-certain death. "Do get on with it, then."
"You need to say the words," Nobody informed him, eyes going innocently wide. "Whatever ones you want, take your pick – just make them good ones, huh?"
The Doctor was silent for a moment, and then he seemed to deflate a bit. "Nobody," he said, the words soft and reluctant, "can do as he wishes with me, in exchange for the lives of my friends."
This statement seemed to echo in the silence – a contract, a promise made. There was power in the Doctor's sentence, as well as more than a bit of finality.
In the aisle where the two humans still were, Ace's hand shot to Hex's arm and she squeezed it tightly. Neither of them had made the slightest move to leave yet.
Nobody began to grin almost literally ear-to-ear – the expression stretched out for just a bit too long than generally physically possible. There were a lot of teeth. "Give me a sec, Doc," he said. "This is a big moment. I gotta savor it, you know?"
"If you must," said the Doctor.
And Nobody began to laugh like a madman – even louder, even more furiously, manically gleeful than he had been back in the TARDIS, so long ago. There were black tears of glee running down his face, and his head was thrown back to the ceiling. The Doctor, for his part, just looked resigned, and maybe a little annoyed – which seemed like more than a bit of an under-reaction, considering the gravity of what had just occurred.
It was over, Hex realized.
Nobody had won.