Break & Fold
"Don't look at me like that," the Doctor snapped, "I'm not some poncey hero from a fairytale ready to rescue you from your tower on high."
Lourdes hastily averted her face, double-checking Vivien's drip with too much enthusiasm instead, nearly knocking it over as she did. Anne came up the side of her, avoiding looking at Tom who was keeping vigil by Vivien's bed-side, not wanting to see what she'd lost being taken by another.
Ever since Vivien's arrival, things between Tom and Anne had become strained. In hindsight, Anne realised she should have took her chance when she'd had it and staked her claim, forcing Tom to face his feelings for her and hers for him, but she'd hesitated and so she'd lost him to a total stranger. But she still had her pride, even as Tom threw his away, losing his head over a girl half his age.
"So what caused Vivien to seize like that?" Anne asked the Doctor with some difficulty, folding her arms across her chest as she did so.
"You tell me - you're the doctor," the Doctor retorted, tentatively testing the tip of his nose again.
"I thought you were the Doctor?" Anne said coldly.
"The radio waves upset the balance of the electrical impulses in her brain," the Doctor said, sighing heavily, running his hand down the side of his face, "resulting in a sort of generalized tonic-clonic seizure."
"A grand-mal," Lourdes interjected, earning a raised eyebrow from the Doctor.
"But this isn't postictal," Anne said, gesturing to the unconscious Vivien. "This is something else altogether."
"Obviously," the Doctor said, rolling his eyes.
"What's that supposed to mean?" Anne snapped.
"Vivien's hybrid status means she's more durable than the average ape," the Doctor snapped back, "she's not as breakable as the rest of you, but only just. Her main advantage is endurance; she can push through the pain barrier" -
- "That gunshot wound was just a through and through," Anne interrupted him, "but she was up and walking about right after it as if nothing happened" -
- "She still feels the pain but she can just... manage it better," the Doctor repeated impatiently, "but she can only heal at the average rate of a human. She was imbibing an abnormal amount of Tylenol, which was a warning sign her body was reaching its breaking point."
"But what you did sent her right over it," Lourdes said quietly.
"Don't you think I know that!?" the Doctor snapped. "If it had been something else, anything else, she wouldn't be in this state – she would wake up" -
- "Wake up how?" Anne said, stepping forwards. "What's the difference?"
"Under too much strain, as long as it's not fatal or potentially so, her body will shut down and recalibrate, a sort of long drawn out healing process," the Doctor explained even more impatiently, "it's the alien in her kicking in" -
- "But she's still alert during this process?" Anne said, trying to wrap her head around all this.
"Yes," the Doctor said, exhaling sharply, "and don't ask me to explain how or why. The danger here is, her whole system has completely shut down, the main threat being neurological. What I did – even as I bore the brunt of it – it – it did something to her - there's a high risk she's... she's brain-damaged" - He half turned away from them, burying his face in the crook of his arm, not wanting them to witness his agony. He had taken a chance out there, and his gamble hadn't paid off, leading him by the hand into his own personal hell. He had hurt all he had left, the TARDIS lost to him, now Vivien, history repeating itself, losing what he loved.
Almost unaware of the Doctor's words, Tom studied Vivien, his dark gaze dwelling on her bloodless face, taking in the way her long black lashes cast crescents on her cheeks, the silver chain circling her swanlike neck, almost hidden from sight. For a moment it was Rebecca lying there, then reality destroyed the illusion, making him wonder if this was what was fuelling his madness, seeking redemption in the arms of the enemy. He was trying to replace Rebecca with Vivien, trying to save her when he hadn't been able to save his own wife, attempting to atone for his sins by rewriting the past with the present.
"Hey, big boy," Maggie called to Tom as she strolled through the swing doors, Tector trailing at her heels, "look lively, I'm here to give you a heads-up."
"About what?" Tom said dully.
"The scouts found a whole load of fried Skitters out back, boss," Tector said before Maggie could say anything.
"Damn it!" the Doctor exploded, booting the science bench, startling Anne and Lourdes.
"I'm meant to be the messenger, country boy," Maggie said to Tector, glaring at him, completely ignoring the Doctor's outburst.
"Is she gonna be okay?" Tector asked Tom, gesturing to Vivien, completely ignoring Maggie in turn.
"You're dismissed," Tom said coldly.
Tector just looked at him, before turning on his heel and stalking back through the swing doors.
"You don't own her," Maggie pointed out to Tom.
"You're dismissed as well," Tom snapped.
Maggie just shook her head before turning and leaving too.
"What the hell's wrong with you?" Anne asked the Doctor in an undertone as Tom resumed his vigil.
"A guilty conscience," the Doctor said sarcastically, "got a cure for it?"
"Guilt over what?"
"The Skitters, stupid!"
"You bloody hypocrite," Anne hissed, "you're the one that killed them!"
"I didn't mean to!" the Doctor protested.
Anne just shook her head at him.
"The Skitters aren't what you think they are," the Doctor said, crossing his arms over his chest.
"What do you mean?" Anne said suspiciously.
"What do I mean?" the Doctor said evasively.
When Vivien opened her eyes, it was only to find herself lying in a strange bed, the sunlight streaming in through wide bay windows, their white lace curtains fluttering in the faint breeze that carried the scent of cherry blossom in its wake. All that could be heard was the sound of breathing, deep and regular, but it wasn't her own.
Not daring to turn around, Vivien's gaze travelled over the rest of the room, taking in the bedside cabinet piled high with books, the titles unfamiliar and unfriendly, repelling her. There was a photo frame balanced precariously on top of them, but the subject of the picture was something she couldn't see without shifting position. All Vivien could make out was two figures, one towering over the other. Some instinct told her it was a wedding photo but she wasn't sure and she didn't want to be.
"Wake up, sleepyhead."
Vivien stiffened, recognizing the voice and not wanting to. Then an arm was winding its way around her waist, lips brushing her black hair, and she snapped, springing to life, turning and shoving Tom away from her, the palms of her hands slamming into his broad bare chest, nearly knocking the wind out of him. Ignoring his shocked face, Vivien scrambled out of the bed, almost breaking her neck as her legs got tangled up in the bed sheets.
"For chrissake, be careful!" Tom cried, grabbing her arm.
"Don't touch me!" Vivien screamed, yanking herself out of his grip, staggering sideways as she did so.
"What the hell is wrong with you!?" Tom snapped, looking at her like she was mad.
"You're not Tom," Vivien hissed, remembering the hooded figure, the room that pulsated like a heart. "I - I know Tom, and you're not him, you're not him" - She turned away from him, digging her fingers into her temples, as if she was trying to claw out the lies of this life that wasn't hers.
"Now you're using your brain," another voice said, making Vivien's head snap up, only to see the Doctor sitting on the edge of the bed, his dark hair flopping across his broad brow, his ancient eyes appraising her.
"No, not you," Vivien said, backing away from him. "Anybody but you."
"I couldn't help you," the Doctor said, straightening his bow-tie. "Nobody could."
"You knew she would die," Vivien whispered, "and you knew I would lose the baby, but you just let it happen - you just walked away without a backwards glance. You didn't even try" -
- "What would trying achieve?" another voice said, making her whirl around, only to see the Doctor, her own Doctor, all cockatoo hair and long limbs. "You would have hated me for failing."
"I don't hate you," Vivien said brokenly, "I hate him. You didn't know, but he did."
"That's not a logical rationale for hatred," the Doctor pointed out, tugging on an earlobe. "He only knew because of me."
"But for you it was too late," Vivien argued, "but for him it hadn't happened yet. He could have stopped it."
"Everything was too back-to-front, Vivien," the Doctor said sadly, "your past happening to my future."
"It doesn't change anything," Vivien said, shaking from head to foot now.
"But everything's changed," a harsh Scottish voice said, making her head snap up. "And it's still changing."
Vivien took a step back, staring at the stranger in bewilderment, knowing and not knowing him all at once.
"You don't know what it's like to carry that guilt through three regenerations," the stranger said, his pale eyes boring into hers, "having to look upon your face for all those lives, bearing that burden" -
- "Wishing I could have helped you," her Doctor said, stepping forwards.
"Knowing that I couldn't have," the other Doctor said from the bed.
"When I can't," the stranger said quietly.
Vivien looked at them all, her lower lip wobbling, and then she buried her face in her hands, bursting into tears, unable to take it anymore, the past colliding with a present that didn't even exist.
"What's wrong, sweetheart?" Tom asked quietly, wrapping his arms around her shoulders, making her tense up.
"This isn't real," Vivien said from between gritted teeth. "None of it."
"Of course it's real," Tom laughed, his mocking tone making her raise her head. "What else could it be? A dream?"
Vivien backed away from him, tears trailing dry down her cheeks, fear threatening to overwhelm what was left of her reason.
"You need to calm down, Vi," Tom chided gently as he stepped forwards, "all that stress, it's bad for you and the baby."
Vivien just stared at him, her hand almost automatically cradling the curve of her bump, disbelief nearly destroying her.
"This is what you wanted," Tom said quietly, smoothing back a black wave of her hair, "isn't it?"
I'm hoping you could save me now but you break and fold
You've got a fire inside but your heart's so cold…
The Doctor straightened up, face taut with tension, his hand clutching his side again. He'd spent the last half hour trying to bring Vivien back from the brink, to try and reach her through her thoughts, but the barriers had been high too breach. For a moment, he'd thought he'd managed to break through, but it was only to find himself banished to her beyond again, returning to reality with the uneasy knowledge she was elsewhere, despite her body being here.
"She said you saved her," Tom said suddenly, making Matt stir in his arms, his head shifting against his father's shoulder, "that she was going to destroy herself, but that you saved her."
The Doctor studied Tom for a long moment, trying to assess the threat he possibly presented, remembering what Pope had inadvertently warned him about, that there was something starting to begin between Tom and Vivien. At first glance, Tom didn't seem the type to turn Vivien's head, but appearances were deceptive, and Vivien had an alarming habit of being unpredictable. It would just be like her to become entangled with the enemy, tempting trouble by dancing with the devil, edging closer and closer to the flames, not caring if she got burned. But the Doctor could handle hit and runs; it was the danger she would find someone who could make her stay that frightened him.
"Don't try any Time Lord trickery on me," Tom said tiredly, leaning back in his seat, "just answer the goddamn question."
The Doctor glanced at Vivien, before exhaling sharply, setting aside his fears for the time being. If Vivien wanted to toy with Tom, so be it. As long as it didn't get her killed, she could dally all she wanted, since it was him she would leave with, never looking back. "She tried to commit suicide to save the world," the Doctor said bluntly, making Tom do a double-take, "but I didn't feel the situation merited such dramatic measures."
Tom's jaw tightened, further questions hovering on his lips, but they were questions that could wait. "What exactly is she?" he asked in an undertone. "Who did this to her?"
"Why do you want to know?" the Doctor spat. "No, wait, I forgot, you're the second-in-command of an alien resistance movement," he said sarcastically, circling Tom, "the intergalactic equivalent of the Gestapo"-
- "We're currently earthbound actually," Tom said tersely, "hardly the stuff space dreams are made of."
"I don't care if you're Darth Vader in disguise," the Doctor hissed, "if you think I'm going to endanger her life any further than it is already, you've got another thing coming."
"I don't want intel," Tom said, sighing heavily, "it's just... I'm curious, that's all, okay? You and her practically fall from the sky, sending the 2nd Mass into uproar. It would be nice to see the whole picture, instead of squabbling over scraps."
"So you do want intel?" the Doctor said, rolling his eyes. "Facts and figures?"
"I'm a history professor," Tom snapped, "I live and breathe facts and figures. That's why I want to know, in order to understand, not to find a reason to put you both in front of a firing squad – I have enough grounds for that already."
"But we've already faced the firing squad," the Doctor said wryly, massaging his side.
Tom exhaled sharply this time, accepting the insult, knowing he deserved that dig. "Please," he then said quietly, something in his voice making the Doctor glance sharply at him, "it would help you both if you helped me to understand. People are scared, myself included, and the fact there might be other forces out there as well as the one we're fighting" -
- "Only concern yourself with what you're up against," the Doctor snapped, "don't get your frilly knickers in a twist over other alien species. They're neither here or there."
"You're here."
"And you should be on bended knee thanking whatever gods you favour that I am," the Doctor retorted, "but never mind that. You want to know what she is, and who did this to her? She's half Xanthe, half human, the creation of a warrior race that had a bad habit of picking fights with other planets. My lot sat back and let them get on it, loathe to interfere, and by the time they bothered their backsides, a little thing called the Time War happened. When the Xanthe's path crossed with Vivien's, there wasn't very many of them left – she probably told you this bit, showed you their little calling card – and then they tried to take over this world, wherein their Trojan Horse tried to total herself, a plan I put the scuppers on. So there you have Vivien's chequered history in a nut-shell."
"Well, thank you for that succinct summary," Tom said tersely, "it was most... enlightening."