Chapter 7 – But Muuuuuum...
The Doctor opened his eyes.
But for some reason it was just as dark when they were open as when they were closed.
"Err... hello?" he asked tentatively, but by the way his voice was suppressed he knew he was in a very small, enclosed space. He reached up, and his hand pressed against a surface. He tried pushing it. It didn't budge. After a moment's struggle he managed to turn onto his side, and he rammed the surface with his shoulder. Nothing happened. Whatever was, it was well-fixed.
"Rose! Don!" he called, but there was nothing but silence. He mentally calculated how much air he had to breathe. At the rate it was depleting he barely had ten minutes before it ran out. He had his respiratory bypass, but that would only give him another ten minutes.
Had he been unconscious? Surely the air would've run out long ago if that was the case? Unless, he thought, maybe he hadn't been unconscious...
He now knew perfectly well where he was, but he didn't particularly want to believe it... Had he regenerated? Why would they bury him before regeneration?
He quickly ran his hands down his face and through his hair. No, he was still himself. None of it made sense. If he hadn't regenerated, and hadn't been unconscious, there was really only one viable option left...
He just hoped Rose and Don would get here pretty soon and get him out.
Ten minutes passed. He flicked on his respiratory bypass.
Another ten minutes went by before it ran out, and he fell unconscious.
The TARDIS churned into existence inside the church porch. Seconds later four people toppled out into the windy, rainy night, looking at their surroundings, frantic.
"Quick!" they ran across the graveyard to the newest grave at the end, checking the stone. This was the Doctor, all right. And the ground was undisturbed.
"Doctor!" Jack yelled into the ground, but knew it was beyond useless. He turned to the others. "We need a spade!"
"Does the Doctor have one in the TARDIS?" Martha asked Don quickly, who shook his head.
"He doesn't bloody grow vegetables!" he said, like she was an idiot.
"Then where the hell do we get a spade from?"Jack asked, panicking.
"Err... Homebase? B+Q? Somewhere that sells spades?" Don asked, turning to Rose.
"It's 3am, Don! They're not gonna be open!" Rose exclaimed, her arms waving.
"Okay okay, err..."
"Faster guys, he's not gonna last much longer in there!" Jack said quickly.
"Can we use the TARDIS?" Rose asked. "Pick one up from somewhere and bring it back?"
"No, no," Don muttered, hand on his forehead. "Donna isn't so good at piloting the TARDIS, we'd be lucky to hit the right week."
"Then what the hell do we do?!"
There was a pause.
"Wait! I got it!" Don yelled, finger in the air.
"What?"
"We'll steal one."
"What?"
"From someone's garden shed."
"What?!"
"Have you got any better ideas?!"
Rose blinked. "Well, no, but..."
"Then allons-y!!" Don yelled, grabbing Rose's hand and wrenching her across the graveyard to the gate. He turned back to Jack and Martha. "Err... you guys... burrow!" he shouted, then disappeared.
They dug and dug and dug with the stolen garden implements in the pouring rain. They were all soaked to the skin and frozen through with exhausted muscles, but they were not about to give up. Finally after twenty minutes Don's spade hit something solid, and he shrieked in delight.
"I've got it!" he yelled, finding a new energy within him to shift the last of the mud with Jack's help. Finally the coffin was revealed and Jack jumped down into the hole.
"Doctor! Can you hear me? Doctor!"
Jack reached down to the coffin, and, with one swift wrench, the lid came off to reveal the Doctor laid perfectly still, his eyes closed.
"Martha!" he yelled, slipping his arms beneath the limp Doctor and grunting as he lifted him up out of the grave for the others to take. Don, Rose and Martha hauled him out to lie on the grass, the rain hammering down on them all.
Martha checked him over as Rose tried to shield him from the rain with her coat, Jack clambering up out of the grave covered in rain and mud to kneel down beside him, eagerly awaiting Martha's diagnosis.
"He's gone into hypoxia," Martha muttered. "Lack of air. Jack, pump his chest five times over each heart, quick!"
Jack quickly obliged, pumping his chest in the beginnings of CPR. Martha then breathed into his mouth twice, before Jack resumed chest pumping.
"Come on, Doctor!" Martha urged, giving him air again. "You can do it!"
Minutes passed. But Martha wasn't giving up.
"Doctor, wake up!" Rose yelled into his ear as Jack resumed compressions. "Please!"
Suddenly the Doctor jerked, coughing chestily as he turned over onto his side, gasping for air. Relieved smiles burst onto all their faces as his eyes flickered open, gazing up at them all with bleary eyes.
"About time too," he said weakly, coughing and panting for air. Everyone laughed as Rose gathered him into a tight hug of sheer relief. He tried to push her away but she held on tightly, stroking back his hair as though he was her favourite puppy dog and pressing her cheek against his, searching for the warmth he had lacked in death. He was alive. He was breathing. Her emotions had taken her to hell and back on the most terrifying rollercoaster she'd ever been on, but it was okay. Everything was fine. He was fine. He was here, and he was alive.
He looked dazed and confused and tired all at the same time, looking up at her with those deep brown eyes of his that right now were barely registering her presence.
"You back with us now?" Jack asked, grinning down at him.
"What...?" the Doctor asked quietly, half asleep.
"Come on," Jack said, sliding his arms beneath the Doctor and lifting him up after Rose had drawn away. "Bed for you."
"I'm fine," the Doctor said tiredly, shifting in Jack's arms.
"Yeah right," Don said.
"Doctor's orders, straight to bed," Martha said sternly.
"But Mum..." the Doctor murmured in protest.
"Do what your mother says, Doctor," Don said sternly, hands on hips, enjoying the moment as everyone laughed.
"But Mum," the Doctor said again. "Dad said..." he trailed off as he closed his eyes, passing out. Martha quickly checked his breathing, before nodding in approval.
"Get him to bed."
A/N: Yeah, I haven't even WRITTEN the next chapter yet. :o