Chapter 4:
Guards thundered down the hall, coming around the corner like an avalanche of guns and muscle. Amy gave them all a stare so burning that it could make even the most sceptical believe in pyrokinesis. The red-head only wished that she could turn that glare onto the man who was currently pinning her arms to her back.
In moments a living wall was created; Amy found fifteen guns trained on her. One guard- a towering, purple alien- came forward to speak, with a mouth so full of teeth that it was difficult to understand him. "You are surrounded. We have captured you."
"No, that would be me." Amy could almost hear the cheeky grin the false-Doctor's voice.
"No," repeated the guard. "We have captured the male and female humanoid intruders."
"You must be mistaken." A dark edge had crept into his voice. "You have captured the female humanoid, but only a male humanoid. A wrong one. I'm not the one you're looking for; in fact, it would appear that I'm the only one competent enough to catch an unarmed civilian in this entire base."
The head guard started to growl, and his purple scales flushed to a mauve colour. He looked ready to shoot his laser blaster, but a guard's voice interrupted him. Said voice sounded scared. "He's right, sir. That's a different man."
The guard turned to stare at the source of the voice, never taking the gun off his target. "Oh?"
Despite everything, Amy felt a flutter of pity for the guard. She sounded like a human girl, not much older than herself. It must take a lot of bravery to stand up to this mound of muscle and teeth. "No-no. The intruder on camera looked younger, with more hair, and had completely different clothes."
The head guard glared at her for several long moments, then grunted in consent. "If you say so. You humans all look the same to me."
The false-Doctor stepped forward, careful to keep a grip on Amy, like a warning. "Maybe you'll be able to recognise this, instead." With his free hand, he dug into his leather jacket, producing a leatherflap holding a piece of paper. Amy only saw the inside for a second, but it was enough for her to recognise it was blank. Physic Paper. "Can you tell me what this says?"
Everyone craned to read it. Then the lead guard flushed pink, and the others shuffled nervously. "Head of Security and Covert Operations," he muttered. "My deepest apologises, sir, we never intended-"
"Never intended to let your defences to get so slack, I should think. I am simply appalled by the state of this facility. It literally took me seconds to enter undetected, and for me to later discover the entire security force has been unable to capture just two intruders- it is simply shameful." He shook his head in disgust. "And we have been standing here for minutes, and no one has properly subdued this prisoner. Handcuffs, immediately."
Amy struggled, but it was mostly a show. She recognised what this was. This was a plan. A ploy to escape. Still, as she felt one of the guards roughly cuff her, she couldn't help but give the maybe-Doctor a bitter glare. For just a second, too quick for anyone else to notice, an apology seemed to flash across his face.
"Now," he barked, once Amy was properly secured. "You- get back to searching. We still have one intruder loose, and I don't want to see any of you until he is in your custody. Go!" The majority of the security scattered the moment the head guard nodded his consent, still looking too deeply humiliated to do anything else. The Maybe-Doctor gave a critical eye to those who remained. It was a small group of only five beings, but more than enough to overcome the two of them if they chose to break their cover. They would need to tread carefully. "As for you lot, I want access to our central operations."
"Yes- yes, of course," muttered the head-guard, who began to lead them off.
"Wait," said the same young female guard. "Do you want us to escort the prisoner to a cell first?"
"No." The Maybe-Doctor didn't even look at her.
"But it's completely against regulations," she argued, barely quailing under the heavy stare of her superior. "'All prisoners must be subdued immediately and escorted from the premises'."
"Regulations change." The Maybe-Doctor shrugged, and pulled on Amy's shoulder. "Besides, I've seen no reason to prove that you lot could even manage to escort this prisoner without letting her escape. She stays with me. It's not like she'll manage to get her hands of these Geradii horns, drop them into the main mixing vat before using floportian sub-transistor to resonate the enantomers in the solution. That would completely neutralise your operations, but surely you aren't lax enough to let that happen?"
Amy had to admit, he was very convincing. He spoke with the ease of a practised liar.
"Besides," he continued. "This will give me a chance to interrogate her for further information."
She watched as he picked up the pink horns and sub-transistor (they'd fallen to the ground in all the commotion and Amy hadn't even noticed), carrying them under one arm. He managed it with great dignity. Even though it was the guards leading them, it was obvious that it was really the Maybe-Doctor in charge. As they were led through the corridors, the sound of machinery grew ever stronger. Amy was on high-alert, watching and remembering everything, so she'd know how to escape as quickly as possible. She tried to avoid the notice of the guards, and thought about the Maybe-Doctor's coded instructions to her; get the horns, drop it in the main mixing vat, and she should be able to destroy the facility's machines. Sounded easy enough. But with her hands cuffed behind her back, Amy sure hoped this guy had a couple extra steps to the plan that he hadn't told her.
The ceilings became even lower and the tall lead-guard soon had to stoop. This made Amy smile to herself. This underground lair wasn't very well constructed; the cramped space would hinder the guards when the time for escape came. Mr. Purple Alien wasn't be able to tell humans apart, and Amy hoped he was prejudiced enough not to notice their natural advantage in area of running.
Finally, the procession came to a halt in front of a heavy metal door. The head guard lumbered forward, and pressed his claw-like hand onto sensor adjacent to it. There was a moment pause before an electronic voice asked for identification. The head guard gave it, providing a long, rumbling sound that Amy assumed must be a name, adding that he was accompanied by four guards, an official and prisoner. Two guards stayed back to watch carefully as they went in before following themselves. Maybe these guys did have something resembling security, after all.
The room inside was cavernous- or, rather, if it would be if the cavern wasn't so very full of pipes, boilers, vats and walkways, giving it the overall impression of being a cave far too stuffed with equipment. The creepy blue lights were now built right into metal rails, which in the gloom seemed snake through a maze of machinery. They were marched onto the railing, but even the large clank of seven pairs of feet hitting metal barely made a dint in the roar of the room. Looking down, Amy saw the source for the majority of the noise; what looked like a river running beneath their feet which in normal circumstances could probably be described as white water, if it had in fact been either white or water. As things stood the liquid was a sickly green, turned into a frothing mass by intense heat and stirring. The Doctor had told her that it was a very expensive, very desirable chemical that was necessary in the production of hyperdrive batteries. Less desirable was the tonnes of toxic by-product it produced, which was currently being dumped right into the oceans of this poor planet against its residents' permission.
The Maybe-Doctor grunted in disappointment. Then he ordered to be lead to the central controls.
He began to 'interrogate' her. Amy had to strain to hear his voice, so she doubted that her guards could make out anything but the gist of the conversation, but it was still important to put on a show. "When did you first break into the facility?"
"A couple of hours ago. Not sure of the exact time."
"What about your...companion? The other perpetrator. In your own words, describe him."
She did. She described his floppy mop of untameable hair, the fact he had no eye-brows, and that he always wore tweed and a bow-tie. The Maybe-Doctor digested the information in silence, and it was impossible to see what he was feeling. If he really was a past body of the Doctor, Amy imagined this must be weird for him, to hear a description of what he would one-day be like. Eventually he nodded. "You're a very cooperative prisoner."
Too cooperative. Amy understood the warning. She couldn't let the guards think they were working together.
"Now, do you have an escape vehicle nearby?"
"Not telling." Amy jutted her chin out in a way she hoped was suitably dramatic.
The Maybe-Doctor pulled her close, a threatening scowl on his face. His hand dug deeper into her arm. It didn't hurt, not much, but to the guards watching it would think it looked much worse than it was. That didn't make Amy feel any more comfortable, so close to this stranger's face. "You will tell."
She pretended to look scared. "Okay, fine! I do."
"Is it close by?"
"Near enough."
"After we're done here, you'll take me to it." She glared at him. Idiot. Did he honestly think she'd need to be told that? He didn't notice, because he was already talking to the head guard. "How far away is this thing?"
"Right here, sir," and he did not lie. They turned a corner and they were there.
It was a large, circular platform, one which felt sturdier than the rest, though perhaps that was only because the metal floor was no longer made out of grill, and it felt a great deal more reassuring not to see the vast drop below your feet. Three quarters of the circumference was a console, covered in a great deal of levers, buttons and screens. Amy tried to focus on seeing what was directly beneath her, figuring that if she had to shut this thing off, she'd have a better chance breaking it manually than dealing with all those buttons. It seemed that the Maybe-Doctor understood her intentions, because his nonchalant inspecting of equipment brought them towards the side; there Amy saw that beneath them who a humongous pit, filled with tumbling liquid and the hiss of various other chemicals being poured into the mixture. The only thing separating herself and the poisonous brew was a few centimetres of metal railing.
Most people would have felt the sway of nausea at the thought. If Amy was being completely honest, she would have admitted that she did, too. But mostly she was thinking about just how easy it would be to drop a couple of pink tusks down there.
"Have you taken readings on the chemicals today?"
"I...I don't know, sir. That's the scientists' job. We're just here to guard it."
"Right, then. I'll need to go down there at take some readings. Use this." He put the tusks and equipment down, terribly close to the edge of the console, and broke some weird reader off from a monitor. At least, Amy saw him break it off. From the guards' limited point of view, it probably seemed that he'd only picked it up. "It's very simple to use. I'm sure that even you will be able to work it out."
He pointed down to some stairs leading down, cut off from the base proper by a metal gate. The guards shared some glances. They didn't like this. Even the most obedient were beginning to become suspicious. Amy could almost imagine the gears turning in their heads. Was it worth the risk of not listening to him?
They obviously decided that it wasn't, so they wandered down the stairs. The female guard hung back, her eyes on Amy, but she was silenced by the piercing look on the Maybe-Doctor's face.
So they were left alone. Time to activate the plan.
Amy immediately broke free of the man's weak grip and ran to the side where the Maybe-Doctor had left the tusk, and head-butted it, watching it tumble down into the liquid below.
Okay, maybe she moved too fast. Because the guards were barely half-way down the stairs by that point. They might not have seen the tusk's descent, but it sure seemed like they somehow heard its splash over the turbulent roar- and quite suddenly, they were racing back up. "Why'd you do that for?" hissed the Maybe-Doctor, as he scrambled to get the gate and secure it.
So she'd made a mistake. Not the first time that had happened. She was bright enough to know how to make up for it. As the Maybe-Doctor was securing the gate, she ran over as fast as possible, and tried to take the remaining tusks. This was proving to be rather difficult since her hands were currently forced behind her back, and the man beside her seemed rather preoccupied in blocking the guards.
Said guards were shouting now. Amy remembered they had guns.
There was much fumbling and cursing involved, but finally Amy managed to get the other tusks, and drop them over the edge. She looked over her back just in time to see them fall; unfortunately, this also allowed her to see the guards. They could see her, too. There was the sound of a laser gun, and she managed to duck just in time.
"I need you to vibrate the enantimors in the solution!" her companion shouted.
"And what's that when it's at home?"
"Get the sub-transistor! Hold down the green and blue buttons at the same time, and point it down at the vats."
She scrambled towards the device, which was lying near the floor, right next to the man. She would have asked, "why don't you do it?", except he was somewhat busy executing a rather busy procedure involving both hands and a nose on the console surrounding him. There was the sound of more gun blasts. Thank God the guards' were lousy shots.
Finally, she had the sub-transistor in her grip, but she saw the problem almost immediately. There was a green button and there was a blue button. Unfortunately, they were at completely different ends. The rod was only the length of her forearm, but her two hands were currently secured to her back, and all her fingers were able to do were flail like thelegs of two spiders glued together. A quick experiment confirmed what her eyes had suggested; there was no way for her to hold both buttons at the same time.
"Help!" she said, trying to keep the panic from her voice, even over the yells and pounding of the five guards trying to break down the gate between them. The man glanced over. "Take off the cuffs!"
"On it." The man extracted a long, blue mechanical stick from his leather jacket. He pressed it to the cuffs, and it made a familiar whirring sound. Once the sonic screwdriver fell silent, Amy pulled at her cuffs, ready to break free.
But nothing happened.
"Well, that worked great," Amy said, as she tugged frantically at the hand-cuffs.
The Maybe-Doctor grunted. "Fantastic. They're dead-locked sealed."
"Dead locked sealed? Isn't that the one thing that-"
"Sonic Screwdrivers can't unlock? Yes."
"Wonderful. So what do we do now?"
The Doctor grinned at her, with a smile so wonderfully alive and ecstatic, even while surrounded by the sound of angry enemies- or, Amy amended, because of them. "Now, we improvise."
oOoOoOoOo
The two humans entered the TARDIS with a feeling of trepidation, which was unusual. Normally the ship was their safe haven, a place of both safety and adventure. But never before had Rose or Jack brought a potential enemy on board without permission, and they were obviously having second thoughts about their decision to bring the strangely intelligent cat inside.
Embers was currently struggling in Rose's arms, trying to break free. "Stop," she commanded. "You promised to stay there."
The cat did as it was told. Jack walked up to the console, while Rose stayed cautiously near the door, not wanting to bring the animal too far in. Logic told her that even if the cat had bad intentions, it couldn't do anything substantial with the ship, not when a man as tall as the Doctor needed with a mallet, string, opposable thumbs and two crew-mates just to get them in the right time period alive. She didn't want to risk it, though.
Rose glanced at Jack, and she could see the same question on his mind. What now?
They'd barely finished thinking it when at the console, something beeped. The humans turned to look; it was one of the screens, flashing lights and noises. Rose regarded it warily. She never understood anything on that monitor- it was always numbers and diagrams and languages that didn't translate.
"What's that mean?" she asked Jack as she took a few steps forward. He was more familiar with these kinds of things.
"Nothing...I don't think... Wait." There was more furious beeping. "There!"
Jack, Rose. This is the Doctor.
The screen displayed the words in white all-capital letters.
"Doctor? Where are you?"
Rose wasn't sure if she expected a reply. She got one, anyway.
In the TARDIS, where else?
Jack looked annoyed. "Well, we can't exactly see you, can we?"
Or hear me, I noticed. Thankfully this cat was a titch more aware than you two, and kindly offered to help.
Rose looked down startled. Embers had stopped shifting, but had taken to glaring at her in a rather put-upon expression. "So...you're not the cat?"
No, don't be silly. I'm in an incorporeal form. Well, not really. While I do have a corporal form, it currently seems to be scattered throughout four dimensions, which is a bit of a bother. Only my physic powers are to interact meaningfully with the physical world. But you lot are useless at physic messaging. No offense. You see, the words flashed quickly on the screen the moment Rose opened her mouth, cats have a natural aptitude for physic communication. That's why they gained such a reputation for witchcraft; they flocked to any human who showed the slightest aptitude in the ability.
Well, a long, rambling explanation like that certainly could be the Doctor's, Rose supposed, but it was still hard to be sure that anything this...presence was saying. She looked at Jack, whose background as a Time Agent had given him more experience in this area. "Is he telling the truth?"
"I think so." The captain shrugged. "Cats were never given much employ at the Agency- great at physic abilities, rubbish at time travel. Still- Doctor, if that's you, try to say something." He looked away from the screen, wearing a look of concentration. There were a few moments of intense silence, and then;
"'Bleedle blarble beedle leedle on the moon. Satisfied?'" Jack spoke like he was quoting words, just second after they appeared on the screen behind his turned back. "Yeah, I can hear you. It's just kind of...blurry."
Blurry human minds, that about sums it up.
The humans glared at the computer. "I hope that was a joking tone," Rose muttered.
"Okay, Doc," said Jack. "How did this happen to you? And more importantly, how can we fix it?"
It took a worryingly long time for the message to appear on screen. I don't know, the Doctor admitted. My memory's gone a bit fuzzy, to be honest. Temporal readjustment can do that to you.
Rose grew tense, her face pulling into an expression of worry. The cat clawed in annoyance, but the girl barely seemed to notice. Jack remained calm, but maybe it was just better at hiding his emotions. "Well, do you have any idea how to fix it?"
Pretty good idea.
"Okay, then, what's the plan?" asked Rose.
Well, it's fairly simple, really. You see, there was a scattering of temporal co-ordinates resulting in a mixing of the linear regression of...what followed was several sentences of extreme techno-babble that were so patently ridiculous that they do not need repeating here. Rose regarded the screen with a faintly confused look, wondering if the Doctor would be any more perceptive without a body, while Jack stared in rapt-attention. Before he had come along, the earth-girl had frankly wondered if the Time Lord just made all this stuff up to impress her. Eventually the ex-conman translated for her. "Basically, there was a big boom and the Doctor's been a little bit scattered."
"What's that supposed to mean? Like- his body is separated from his mind, or what?"
"Er. More like his body has been separated from his minds. Plural."
"What?"
"Relax," Jack said, as there was a hurried beeping from the screen. He didn't look very relaxed; his muscles were tense, and his mouth was pursed in a worried frown.
"What do you mean, minds? How can you have more than one?"
I do have one. It's just been a little fractured, is all.
"A little bit fractured," Rose repeated. Sometimes she couldn't believe the life she was living. She recalled something she'd read in school (well, studied would be a more accurate description, since she hadn't really read the whole thing). Jekyll and Hyde. "So- like, what? By different personalities?" Having experienced his angry mode, Rose figured she was currently talking to the Dr. Jekyll.
She pitied anyone who encountered his Mr. Hyde.
No. Not by personalities, or anything. We're- I'm- just weaker, and a little bit muddled. It's more like I've been copied and diluted.
"Right." Rose didn't quite understand. How could a person be...less of themself? Especially someone as big as the Doctor? "Have you seen anything like this before?"
Yes, actually!
"Oh?" said Jack, in the interested sounded voice of someone trying to hide their real feelings.
Oh, yes. Paris, 1979. A Jagaroth named Scaroth. Explosion split him into twelve parts.
"And...how did that workout?"
He, um. Well. He died. But the explosion created all the life on Earth, so that's a plus. Obviously realising that this didn't inspire much confidence in his companions, the Doctor backtracked. But don't worry! I'm much cleverer than him. Besides, I think I'm only split into two parts, so there's that.
Rose gulped. "So...can you fix it?"
Oh, yes. I think so, and I'm very good at thinking.
"I noticed," said Jack. "So, what should we do?"
Well, the trick lies in finding the other me. Scaroth could communicate with his other selves. The explosion I seem to have been in must have been sufficiently different, though, because I can't get any sense of other selves. Or maybe that's just me...very different physiology, my species. Interesting how that explosion gifted a Jagaroth with such physic prowess, even if just limited to himself, they're usually so...
"Doctor," interrupted Rose. "Focus."
Oh, yes. Right! Sorry. Anyway, I need to track my other self down. The TARDIS should be able to do that. She's already tuned in to me, it'll just take a little rewiring. From then on, it should be smooth sailing.
Rose doubted that. It was never smooth sailing, not even when they were doing something as simple as picking up some milk. Searching for the Doctor's fractured mind, easy? Don't make her laugh. Still, she bounced with excitement to the console, the cat in her arms finally giving up and springing to the floor. She smiled thanks towards it; whatever that ragged little thing might look like, it had been kind and helped the Doctor. "Thank you," she whispered to it, wishing she could communicate with it too. Then she turned to the screen. "Okay, let's get started."
Don't you want to say bye to your mum first?
Rose stared in surprise at the message. "Um, yeah. Sure."
That was unexpected, coming from the Doctor. This man, who had faced armies and demons, usually ran from her mother with all the fear and disgust he could possess. He had a point though. If she left without telling Jackie, Rose would be eaten alive the next time she popped in or called. Besides, mum did have all her clothes.
That didn't mean that she fancied having to explain the situation.
Still, the girl said goodbye, promising only to be ten minutes, and ordering them not to leave without her. Jack watched her jog out the TARDIS doors, and could almost feel the Doctor's presence doing the same. The doors closed with a loud click, and he turned immediately to the console again.
"Okay, Doc. What should I do?"
It was surprisingly awkward to have a conversation with someone you couldn't see. It made it difficult to know where to look. And until you were missing a body, you never realised how much you relied on expression and movement to judge the conversation. Even if he could get the whispers of emotion through their tenuous physic link, Jack felt like he was trying to solve a puzzle with only half of the pieces.
Still, they were communicating. And that was more than enough to get the job done. Rose had barely left the ship before Jack was immediately at work; beneath the console, all he could see was a sky of circuitry. Honestly, it was a little overwhelming, although he would never admit as much. He'd never exactly been a techie, but the Agency had trained him well, to the point that he could probably fix any ship or vortex manipulator, no matter where or when he got stranded. But the TARDIS' technology was light-years ahead of anything Time Agents could even dream of. The Doctor had been teaching him about the ship for weeks now, something that he felt very privileged for, but he was nowhere near skilled. Without the physic presence guiding him, Jack would have been lost within minutes.
They worked diligently, rewiring circuits, shifting wires, changing settings. The Doctor's voice spoke in his mind, helping and correcting.
Except, it wasn't really a voice. It was more like a thought of a voice. And if Jack admitted it, the voice was...wrong.
No, not wrong. The correct word was different. He'd been trying to put a finger on the sensation ever since he'd first come back into the TARDIS. The spirit claimed to be the Doctor, and he believed it. The way he acted, the things he knew- Jack doubted that there were many other beings in the universe which were like that. Besides, the feeling in his mind was most definitely the Doctor's. A physic connection is formed of feelings and sensations, and that light and quick voice in Jack's head held all the same age, knowledge and power his physical presence always commanded. It just felt different from what Jack expected. He would have imagined the feeling of leather, the smell of ashes, a sturdy, harsher presence than the once he was experiencing. This was far quicker and lighter than what he would have imagined.
He was the Doctor, though. Jack couldn't doubt that. As he pushed another lever he told himself to stop worrying. If there was something wrong, what else could you expect with a scattered mind?
Rose came back an hour later than she said she would, carrying camping-pack on her back, filled with all her clothes, and arms laden with groceries. She dropped them near the door, obviously figuring that they could sort it out properly once most pressing matters were dealt with. "She wouldn't let me leave," she complained. Then her voice softened. "She's worried."
Considering the life they lead, Jack didn't blame Jackie. "She's letting you come, though," he pointed out. That's what a good parent did. Let their child go.
And go they did. "Ready, Doc?"
Yes. Yep, everything is in order. Rose, go press down that button over there, hold it down for fifteen second intervals after spaces of ten seconds. You might need to toggle that switch at the same time. Jack, go stand on that pedal. Now, when you get it, there might be a bit of a shudder, so hold on...
Jack pressed the pedal. There was more than just a shudder; the whole ship buckled and swayed, and the two humans yelled as they tried to stay on their feet. The brilliant noise of dematerialisation surrounded them, among the halting groan of a tracking signal. And like a whisper in his ear, Jack heard the Doctor's mind shout;
Geronimo!
oOoOoOoOo
The Smith-Jones had finished supper quickly, and Martha had given dish-washing duty to her husband. Ever since the dishwasher had been destroyed in an invasion of possessed soap last month, they'd been taking turns with the messy cutlery until they found time to get a new one. Technically, tonight it was Martha's turn, but she pointed out the flaw of having the woman whose hands were dripping with germs cleaning their plates. Mickey had sent her to their room with minimal complaining, pointing out that she still had to deal with UNIT.
She trudged into the room, and collapsed onto the bed. She didn't want to work. She wanted to sleep. Maybe she would be able to get this done quickly and slink off for the night. Unfortunately, the universe did not seem to like this plan, since when she reached for the laptop she cursed in anger.
It was off. Martha looked for the cable; it had fallen to the floor. It must have run out of batteries and died. Marbles stood at the edge of the bed. She glared at him. "Did you do this?"
The cat mewed angrily and swept its tail. Martha shook her head. Of course he hadn't. Supper had only taken a little longer than an hour, hardly enough time for the power to run out. She must have let it fallen out some point in the day, and not noticed. That didn't make her feel any better, just guilty. She plugged in power cable in angrily, glaring bitterly at the screen as it took an infinitely long time to turn on. She began to feel a head-ache approach, adding to her many pains.
Finally, it loaded, and she immediately opened up her documents. She felt a wave of relief; they'd all auto-saved. She investigated, and quickly discovered that the losses had been minimal. Her spreadsheets had only lost the last few changes, and most of her documents were intact.
"What's this?" she muttered, looking down at the bottom of her long letter drafted to the head of UNIT's diplomatic ambassador for the Shadow Proclamation. In the middle of the penultimate paragraph was a whole string of gibberish. 'sonisrewdiver itmeant. im the dr imin teh catstop ingronig me.' She stared at it for a moment, thinking that she might have gotten a glimmer of sense in the words, before deciding that yes, this really was just gibberish. Marbles must have walked across the keyboard. She deleted it quickly.
The cat glared at her from the dresser, and Martha almost swore she heard a sigh.
She sighed herself when she realised that now she would actually have to get to work- and worst, first have to repeat things she had already done. She was not in the mood for this.
Still, it was something that had to be done, just like bills or stopping the Earth from being destroyed. So she propped herself up with some pillows, popped a throat lozenge into her mouth, and settled in for the long haul.
However, it was a well known fact that no matter the mind's intentions, the body can be traitorous. Barely half an hour passed before Martha began to fall asleep, even as she stared at the screen. She was uncomfortably hot, both from the computer on her lap, and the fever, but felt too exhausting to even go and turn the air-conditioner on. The sensible part of her brain told her to just give up and properly go to bed, while a more silly part told her to wait until Mickey came up and ordered her to. So in a drowsy haze she resolutely continued typing away.
She didn't notice when Marbles stood erect at the end of the bed, like a sentinel.
At first, she didn't even notice the wheezing. In her sleepy head she just assumed it was the sound of her own laboured breathing. But the sound continued, rising and falling, and finally recognition flared. Though it might not sound like it, that groaning noise was the most beautiful sound in the universe, and Martha felt that not even a coma could stop that excited tingle when she heard it.
Forgetting the paperwork, forgetting how tired she was, Martha jumped from the bed as a blue box appeared in her room with a clang.
oOoOoOoOo
"Rory, relax. Are you okay?"
Seeing the Doctor's worried eyes staring at him, he managed a shaky smile.
The Doctor looked relieved. "Knew it. Takes more than a bit of a physic dive to hurt you, eh? I should have been paying better attention, anyway. My fault."
Rory was breathing deeply, relishing the feeling of his own body. Even the ache in his head and the bruises at his side felt good, because Rory knew they were his own. Nothing could quite compare to the shock of finding yourself swept away in the sensations and memories of another body.
Memories. Suddenly the obvious hit him. "I...I don't remember anything new."
"Yeah," the Doctor said softly. "I know. I looked all through your head, searched very deep, deeper than I think I've ever gone into a human mind. But, well...I couldn't find any sign of them."
"Oh." Rory would have said something else, if his mouth hadn't felt full of bitterness.
"I went everywhere. Dreams, subconscious, short term and long term memory storage. Everywhere." The Doctor almost looked impressed, enthralled. "I mean, it's amazing. I've never seen anything like it. You see, Rory, you can't just change a mind with no consequences. The human brain is like a slate-"
"A tabula rasa? A blank slate?"
"No, that's the point. Once you write something on a slate, you can never really get it clean again. If a physic intruder or drug wipes memories, they'll still leave traces. They can be hidden, in distant corners of your mind, or under many layers, but you can still find them, and hopefully repair them. But in this case..." The Doctor swept a hand through his hair. "Nothing."
"So. That's it, then?"
The Doctor gave him a piercing stare. "No. No, this isn't it. You can't give up, Rory. Memories don't just vanish. We just need to find the person who took them from you. They'll know where they are. So, Rory, you have to tell me. The feeling you felt when I was going through your head- have you ever felt anything like that before?"
Rory had to bite back his frustration. No, he had never felt anything like that, he'd never done anything like this before...
But wait. "Yes...actually. I think so."
"Okay, good. Do you remember where? When?"
Rory closed his eyes, trying to pin-point what exactly he'd been feeling until it dawned on him. "Here. Ever since I woke up, it's felt like I've been watched..."
The expression on the Doctor's face was one of the most serious Rory had ever seen. His eyes were cold and deep, and looking at them he could almost being instead the man's mind again. His muscles tensed. "Here? On board the TARDIS?"
"Yeah. Here. I thought I was imagining things, but...well, it just hangs there. Watching me."
The Doctor regarded him seriously, until a look an understanding slowly crept over his features.
"Ah. Right. Of course." He coughed awkwardly. "Um, I think that's the TARDIS, actually."
"...your ship?"
"Yes, exactly."
"Your ship is in my mind?"
"Yes," he said offhandedly, though he did eventually notice Rory's shocked expression. "Listen, it's no big deal. She doesn't want to hurt you. Quite the opposite, in fact. She had been feeling worried for hours, ever since you were injured."
Rory found himself fighting to keep calm once again. His breathing felt shallow. "Okay, right...the blue box is alive...the blue box is reading my mind." He hoped saying it out-loud would make it seem more rational. "It- she- didn't even ask permission."
"She didn't need to," the Doctor said, as tenderly as possible. "That would be like someone asking permission to look at you. It just the way she sees the world."
Rory closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. This was probably just one of those things that he'd have to accept. Except he'd been accepting an awful lot today, and a man had his limits to the impossible things he could believe. To his credit, the Doctor was silent, for the first time all day. He seemed to realise the human needed some breathing space, even though the wait obviously seemed to pain him.
After a few long moments, Rory opened his eyes.
"Okay," said the Doctor. "I need to ask you again. Do you remember anything else invading your mind? Anything else but the TARDIS?"
"I don't know," Rory said. He tried to remember. But all his memories before waking up were either a blur, or peaceful, normal ones, of living in Leadworth. "No, I can't."
The Doctor looked strained. And suddenly, very, very old. "Please, Rory. You have to try."
"I am! That's all I've been doing since I woke up!" The words burst angrily. "But I'm not used to this, okay? And I'm telling you, besides you and your mind-reading ship, I've never felt anything like that in my life!"
"No clues? No clues at all?"
"That's what I said!"
Finally, frustration seemed to grab hold of the Doctor, too. He turned away, stomping around the console. "Great! No clues, no evidence, no starting position- we don't have time to track down a rogue physic!"
"Why not? You have a time-machine." The Doctor looked away, quickly, but not quick enough for Rory not to see the expression of guilt that flashed on his face. "Doctor, why not?"
There was a moment of silence. Then, he said;
"Amy."
Amy? Fear flashed through him."What about her?"
"Nothing." The Doctor had gotten up, plastered a too wide smile on his face. "Nothing about Amy. We've just got to find her, okay? She's expecting us. That comes first."
"Doctor- stop lying to me. I want the truth." He had so little else. He didn't know why he was travelling on this ship. He didn't know how he had gotten there. He didn't know this man. But he knew his girlfriend. "What do you mean, Amy's expecting us? Why do we need to find her?"
The Doctor stopped. Turned. His expression was pained.
"Amy's been kidnapped."
"What?"
The Doctor spoke on, not looking at Rory. "It happened months ago. None of us realised- not even she did. Finally, I worked it out. We've spent the last few weeks tracking her down and recruiting help."
"Recruiting help! You have a time machine! Why can't you just materialise, or whatever, and save her?"
"They know about the TARDIS. They've got amazing technology. She's protected. A whole army is surrounding her."
"An army?" Rory's heart thudded in his chest. She imagined his girlfriend, bound and gagged, surrounded by hundreds of guns and uniforms, unable to escape. "What would an army want with her?" The guilty look on the Doctor's face told him everything. "It's you, isn't it? They want to get at you- so they kidnapped her!
"Well, I'm not taking this!" Rory stood up abruptly, trying to stop his shaking. "Do you expect me to just- just deal with all this? I've woken up to a nightmare! No, don't you say anything. This is all your fault. I don't care if you are bloody 'friendly', or whatever, it's because of you that I have amnesia and Amy's been kidnapped. Just try to tell me otherwise!"
The Doctor opened his mouth, but then hesitated. He looked lost.
"Just what I thought," Rory muttered. And with that he walked away, up the stairs, in into the depths of the TARDIS, not even hearing the calls for him to stop. He was too busy trying not to cry.
oOoOoOoOo
Author's Note:
Poor Rory. I love him, I really do, but without all that character development, he's really not suited for this kind of life.
If anyone's wondering why I chose cats as the animal to channel the Doctor, it's not just that I really like them. Rather, when I was first coming up with the idea for this story, I had Chameleon Circuit's song 'Kiss The Girl' stuck in my head. The line "cause you're talking to a cat, and everybody loves you...' was stuck on a seemingly infinite loop in my head. Plot bunnies are born of strange places.