I know this is so unexpected but YES I've actually managed to update this story! I have writer's block with the last chapter of Triangle right now and as one block moves in, another one clears!
Thank you all so much for the wonderful reviews and I'm so sorry this took so long!
Previously:
The Doctor snatched the phone from her hands, pressed his sonic screwdriver to it, and made the call.
"Sir, you're bleeding."
"Yes, I'm aware." He forced a smile at the receptionist then returned his attention to the phone pressed to his ear. "Come on, Rose." He said through gritted teeth.
"Are you a Slitheen?" Rose gasped, her knees buckling, held up only by his bruising grip.
"You killed the Doctor and used his skin."
She vaguely registered that the phone was ringing. "Killed… him?" The words she had uttered echoed in her mind and his hand under her throat tightened. She gasped for air. The shock of the words she had uttered as well as her own restricted air, caused the room to blur and grow dark.
Chapter Eight
The Doctor scanned the hall he was in and his eyes rested on a door to an office. He froze, staring at the door, then gradually approached it, bringing the phone with him.
"Sir? Sir, where are you—"
The Doctor pushed past people to get to the office door. In bronze, a nameplate signified that it was the office of Samuel Haxall M.D. He opened the door then shut it behind him. Jogging to the desk, he opened the drawers then sighed as understanding set in. Stacks of plastic blood bags filled the drawers.
He picked up the phone and redailed. "Damn." He murmured when the door behind him was flung open.
Rose slowly came to. She ran a hand through her hair as she tried to remember how she had fallen asleep on the floor.
"Oxygen starvation. Just enough to knock you out."
She sat up at the sound of the Doctor's voice. Memories rushed back. The imposter Doctor was sitting at the table, rifling through stacks of documents.
"You are Rose Tyler." He said casually as he tossed bank statements and old Christmas cards on the floor. "And you are going to tell me everything you know about the man you call John Smith, and the Doctor."
"I don't know what you're talking about."
The imposter Doctor jerked suddenly, scattering a stack of papers. "This form I'm in now isn't the Doctor's. This one only has one little heart."
"How do you know about the Doctor?"
His body jerked again and Rose stared. She could have sworn she saw a grey tinge to his hair. "He's the man who defeated the Cybermen and he is the most powerful body I could hope to assume. Imagine if I had that brain and that power. This one is decent. Sure he's clever, but he doesn't have the power the Doctor has."
"What are you?" Rose stood slowly and backed toward the door. "What have you done with my Doctor?"
"Right now, your pathetic human excuse for the Doctor is having his life blood removed. The amount of blood my friends will get from him should be enough for… oh, a couple days probably. That's long enough for me to pick his mind over and find a way to get to the real Doctor."
"He's in a parallel world and there's no way through." Rose said stubbornly. "He's safe."
The man gave a derisive laugh. "He's never safe. I'll find a way to get to him."
The Doctor stood squarely, the desk between him and the two men: Norm, and Rich.
"What do you want with me? Talk to me!"
"You're not in the position to demand." Said Norm, shutting the door.
"On the contrary, I'd say I'm very much in the position to demand seeing as I could scream at any moment and hospital staff would be inside this room in an instant. I very much doubt this is official NHS business."
"He's wasting blood." Rich whispered to Norm.
"Eh?" The Doctor put a hand to his lower back, feeling the sticky blood that still streamed from the wound in his back. "Ah. To feed your friend the plasmavore."
He glanced down briefly to see the splashes of blood on the floor, committing them to memory so he wouldn't slip. In the second he had glanced down, the shot of the tranquilizer ripped through the room and buried its self in his solar plexus. He looked down at the needle that stuck from his torso and swayed on the spot. "No. No-no-no. Just a little needle." He took a wobbly side step, clutching the phone to him as though it were his first born. His eyes were heavy. Suddenly the floor was looking as inviting as a down comforter.
Craving the floor's stability in the spinning world, he let his knees buckle.
"You're mad." Rose said, following the imposter Doctor with her eyes as he walked to the bathroom. "You won't be able to cross universes and you will have killed an innocent man."
"Worth a try though, isn't it? He's only been around here for a few months, not a great loss to the world, is he?" He opened the medicine cabinet and began sifting through it. He tossed an empty birth control container into the rubbish bin. "You really should stay up to date, dear. How sweet and tragic would it be if you were left to have his bastard? At least you'd have something of his to remember him by."
Rose clenched her fists, her eyes murderous. "I will never let you hurt him, you hear me? I won't let you touch a hair on his head." The original Doctor had trusted her to look after himself and she promised herself she would protect him.
"Too late sweetie. You're Doctor is bleeding dry as we speak."
"I don't believe you." She couldn't help the doubt of her own words as she spoke them, however, and she could tell he knew by the smile he gave her. His face was an odd mixture of features. The Doctor's nose was now paired with disproportionately large teeth. His hair was also shrinking, thinning, and graying. His eyes were changing color and shape too. The shifts made Rose feel queasy as his skin stretched over a new skull structure.
"Doctor Haxall."
"All I ask is to drop the second part." His voice cracked, jumping from the Doctor's tenor to Haxall's baritone.
The phone rang again. There was a click and a cheery voice began. Hallo! This is the residence of John Smith and Rose Tyler. We're probably far too busy and important to reach your call so if you'd like to leave a message for either the lovely Miss Tyler or myself, we'll call you back! Rose I don't think this is working, I told you I'm rubbish at domestics. –The green light?—Yes that's on. Oh, did I record that? –Yes, two sugars—
The beep sounded and the sound of heavy breathing came on the line. "Rose?" The voice was strangled and weak. "Help me."
Rose felt her stomach lurch at the words. The Doctor needed her and she had a pretty good idea where he was. Ready to defend her partner with her last breath, she lunged for the door of the bathroom, pulling it open and then slamming it back into his face.
Haxall stumbled but Rose didn't allow herself the time to make sure. She bolted from the flat.
The Doctor groaned as the phone fell from his face to clatter on the hard floor. He didn't want Rose in danger, and he regretted the call he had made, but his instinct to survive had taken over and Rose was his go-to.
His hip bone was pressed uncomfortably against a hard surface. He rolled onto his back, unwilling to open his eyes again. The light shone through his eyelids. The floor was cold on his bare back.
He was lying on the floor in a room lined with cabinets. White walls and bright lights washed out all color except the brown and red marks that smeared the floor: his blood.
"Just relax." Norm's voice came from above and the Doctor looked down at his left wrist. Clear plastic tubes were attached to the veins. Dark red blood pumped through.
"Can't we just go in through the kidney?" Rich complained. "This is taking so long."
"He'd be dead too fast. The longer we take, the more time for his heart to make more."
"Ah." Rich seemed satisfied with the answer.
The Doctor bent his knees and raised himself up to a sitting position only to fall forward on his hands with dizziness. He looked up to see Norm and Rich standing over him, watching in mild interest. He tried to speak, but only a slurred string of syllables made it past his mouth. His hand slipped in the blood from his back and he didn't try to protect himself as he pitched face down on the floor, his trouser-clad legs splayed out behind. Feeling like a colt learning to stand, he gathered his hands beneath him and pressed himself up. His body was too weak form blood loss and crashed back down to the floor, gasping, his eyes half closed. "I don't want to die." He managed to articulate slowly and precisely. He could feel himself slipping as though on a fraying tether, ready to snap at any moment as the coldness spread slowly through his body.
A/N Woohoo! Are you guys proud of me for updating this? I know I am! Please review and I'll see how fast I can get the next chapter up