Klary's headache kicked up the moment the Tardis doors closed. Just seconds prior to her complete disappearance, she managed to give the Doctor a quick kiss. Her eyes closed at the bright flash, only to open when a body pressed against her. Arms wrapped around her shoulders. Tight. As warm as the hug was, it felt different. Not as firm as she was used to. The arms not long enough. Warmth lacked the usual cool undertone. It didn't feel wrong. Just, not right.
"Klary! You're okay." Relief clear in Martha's voice. The coily-haired brunette nodded along confused as to what had happened to garner such a reaction. The soon-to-be doctor stepped back. Eyes roved as if to ensure there were no injuries.
Head cocked to the side. Eyes moved between Martha and the Doctor. The latter's gaze held more than just relief. Barely concealed anger. "Did something happen?" The two answered at the same time. Words conflicted. Martha's voice high pitched while his was flat. Void of emotion. She let out a sigh arms crossed. "Something happened but it's in my future. Right?"
"Yes."
"Okay then." Her gaze had lowered at his curt reply. Whatever it was had been pretty bad. Walking into a shitshow of her design- whether or not she had presently done it- was not what she had expected. Wanted. She cleared her throat. "So where to?"
That seemed to snap the Doctor from his thoughts. His intense gaze left Klary as he rushed around the console. Klary, situated by the Y-beam, grabbed a hold. The ship jostled, Martha, having rushed to hold onto the edge of the console. In that moment, it seemed the tension in the room vanished. Klary knew better though. She knew for all his pretending, there would be a reckoning. A moment it would all come out and she would be left to pick up the pieces. Stuck apologising for something she'd done in the future.
"But how do you travel in time? What makes it go?" Martha asked as the Doctor jimmied a lever.
"Oh, let's take the fun and mystery out of everything. Martha, you don't want to know. It just does. Hold on tight!" Klary watched as he kept a foot on the lever as he worked another control. She could have helped but she chose to keep her distance. She found herself wary to speak or do much. Unsure just how deep his anger was towards her. It had been a while since she'd been on the receiving end of his ire. Not the first in this body that was for sure. Until he made things clear, she would remain in the background.
The Tardis came to a stop and Martha fell to the floor. The Doctor stumbled into one of the Y-beams. "Blimey. Do you have to pass a test to fly this thing?" She jumped up. Wiping at her jeans as she oriented herself.
"He failed," Klary cheekily quipped. It slipped through her lips before her brain realised. He shot her a quick glare. Eyes met before she once again looked away. An awkward silence before he seemed to gather himself.
The Doctor grabbed his and Martha's jackets. "Now, make the most of it. I promised you one trip, and one trip only." Without a glance back, he rushed to the door. Back to it as he finally faced the woman. Outside this door, brave new world."
"Where are we?"
"Take a look." He pushed the door open. A smile on his lips. "After you."
Martha rushed out and stopped. The Doctor and Klary behind. Outside, people milled about Southwark. Washing hung on lines overhanging eaves and scruffy urchins ran around. "Oh, you are kidding me. You are so kidding me. Oh, my God, we did it! We travelled in time! Where are we? No, sorry. I got to get used to this whole new language. When are we?"
"Mind out." Klary pulled Martha back as a bucket of slop was emptied from an upstairs window. A look of disgust on both women's faces though Martha's expression returned to one of wonder. A small smile crossed Klary's lips. She could understand the other woman. Even with the differences, there was beauty to seeing history. To being able to witness things no other person could.
"Gardez l'eau!"
"Somewhere before the invention of the toilet. Sorry about that."
"I've seen worse. I've worked the late night shift, A+E. But are we safe? I mean, can we move around and stuff?"
"Of course we can. Why do you ask?"
She gave him a flat look. "It's like in the films. You step on a butterfly, you change the future of the human race."
Klary chuckled. The companion's gaze moved over to her. "Nope."
"Tell you what then, don't step on any butterflies. What have butterflies ever done to you?"
"What if… I don't know. What if I kill my grandfather."
The Doctor faced her. Walking backwards as he did. "Are you planning to?"
"No."
"Well, then."
"And this is London?"
"I think so. 'Round about, um, ooh, 1599."
"Oh, but hold on. Am I all right? I'm not going to get carted off as a slave, am I?"
"Why would they do that?"
"Not exactly white, in case you haven't noticed."
"We're not even human." He ignored Klary's question. "Just walk about like you own the place. Works for me."
Klary interjected before he could continue. "Unfortunately, Martha, the Doctor is a white man. Whether or not he's human. He doesn't have much to worry about on that front so I suppose he doesn't really think about it. However, I don't believe it is something we have to worry about as long as we are with him. Trust me, we'll be safe enough with him."
"Thank you, Klary."
"Of course. Not like I don't have the same thoughts. I'm barely a shade lighter than you as it is. And, I wouldn't dare lie about something like this. Goodness knows how things are back in the future."
She gave the woman a grateful smile as the Doctor pulled attention back to himself. "Besides, you'd be surprised. Elizabethan England, not so different from your time. Look over there. They've got recycling." He pointed to a man shovelling manure into a bucket. "Water cooler moment." Two men talking at a water barrel. He nodded towards a man speaking of the end of the world. "Global warming. Oh, yes, and entertainment. Popular entertainment for the masses. If I'm right, we're just down the river by Southwark, right next to…" The trio ran along the south end of the London Bridge, past Southwark Cathedral and stopped in front of a building. "Oh, yes! The Globe Theatre! Brand new, just opened. Though, strictly speaking, it's not a globe, it's a tetradecagon. Fourteen sides. Containing the man himself."
"Whoa, you don't mean… Is Shakespeare in there?"
"Oh, yes. Miss Jones, will you accompany us to the theatre?" He held out his arm to take.
"Mister Smith, I think I will."
"When you get home, you can tell everyone you've seen Shakespeare."
"Get her sanctioned, why don't you, hun." She rolled her eyes as she was once again ignored. A sigh left her. Klary had to admit that he did a good job of showing Martha things were good between them. Granted, this would have only been the woman's second or third trip with him. Not long enough to truly know how he usually acted with her. Martha probably thought that's just how they were. A half-truth that bothered her. It had been a few adventures and even with the last, she knew she had grown accustomed to his constant touches. His hands were always on her. To have so little contact with him bothered her more than she dared to admit. Klary tried to tell herself that things would work out but she found it hard to believe as she trailed behind them.
The trio were enraptured by the performance. Klary stood opposite Martha, eyes trained before her. It had gotten her through the show. From the corner of her eye, she had watched her two companions whisper to each other. Jealousy coursed through her. Though Klary knew there would be nothing romantic between the two, she wanted to be acknowledged by the Doctor. In retrospect, she knew she wasn't far off from the person she had been when she first arrived. The woman who had folded the moment his anger was directed towards her. A woman who receded into herself the moment she was made to feel worthless and unimportant. Sentiments she'd lived with her entire life. With each moment, it proved her tormentors right. Caused her to pull back. And pull back she planned to do.
As the show finished, applause sounded in the theatre. The actors bowed for the audience. Martha looked between the couple. Klary schooled my features to that of impassive content the moment Martha's gaze was upon her. "That's amazing! Just amazing. It's worth putting up with the smell. And those are men dressed as women, yeah?"
"London never changes."
"Where's Shakespeare? I want to see Shakespeare. Author! Author!" Martha shot the Doctor an uncertain smile. "Do people shout that? Do they shout Author?"
Before either could reply, the man that stood behind the women called out. In moments, the crowd shouted for the playwright. "Well, they do now."
Klary managed a genial chuckle at the woman's happy expression. A chuckle that ended as quickly as it began as Shakespeare walked out to rapturous applause. Martha glanced over at the other brunette. "He's a bit different from his portraits."
She nodded as she watched the playwright soak in all the attention. "This is a bit before that."
"Genius. He's a genius. The genius. The most human, human there's ever been. Now we're going to hear him speak. Always, he chooses the best words. New, beautiful, brilliant words."
"Ah, shut your big, fat mouths."
While the crowd erupted in laughter, the Doctor scowled. "Oh, well."
"You should never meet your heroes."
"You've got excellent taste, I'll give you that. Oh, that's a wig." He laughed along with the crowd as he pointed the man out. He walked the stage. Commanded the audience. "I know what you're all saying. Love's Labour's Lost, that's a funny ending, isn't it? It just stops. Will the boys get the girls? Well, don't get your hose in a tangle. You'll find out soon."
"When?" The crowd asked. The word echoed throughout the theatre.
"Yeah, yeah. All in good time. You don't rush a genius." He bowed. As he righted himself, Shakespeare's body went rigid as he jerked. Face blank for just a second. "When? Tomorrow night." The theatre erupted in cheers. "The premiere of my brand new play. A sequel, no less. And I call it Love's Labour's Won." More cheers and applause erupted from the crowd. Klary watched as Shakespeare ambled away. Gaze trained on him until he vanished backstage. She started as Martha tapped her. Alerted her of movement.
"I'm not an expert, but I've never heard of Love's Labour's Won," Martha expressed as they followed the crowd out of the theatre.
"It's his lost play," Klary answered. She planned to do her best to keep the companion from catching onto her hastily spiralling mood. It wasn't her fault, responsibility, or business. "Technically, it doesn't exist. It is, however, mentioned in lists of his plays."
"It never turns up. And no one knows why."
"Have you got a mini-disc or something? We can tape it. We can flog it. Sell it when we get home, make a mint." Klary forced out a chuckle. Knowing the companion was joking.
"No."
"That would be bad."
"Yeah. Yeah."
"How come it disappeared in the first place?"
"Well, I was just going to give you a quick little trip in the Tardis, but I suppose we could stay a bit longer." Klary rolled her eyes at his words. She hated how he treated Martha for the first few adventures. As if she were a sidekick. Someone to have around just 'cause. She planned to give him hell every time he said something that hurt her feelings. Made her feel like a guest. If there was one thing Klary knew, Martha Jones was a bonafide companion from the moment she first stepped onto the Tardis. And Klary would be damned if she let the Doctor treat her as less than.
At the Elephant, the trio rushed up the stairs and into the only room with an open door. Inside, was William Shakespeare. Before him sat two other men, each with a tankard before them. Off to the side stood a maid, one Klary recognised as Lilith. The Doctor knocked on the door frame before he waltzed in. "Hello! Excuse me. Not interrupting, am I?" The two men turned to face the trio. "Mister Shakespeare, isn't it?"
The man in question put down his tankard and rubbed his forehead. Klary huffed a breath. Amused by his actions. Apparently, celebrities of the past still dealt with overbeating fans. "Oh, no. No, no, no. Who let you in? No autographs. No, you can't have yourself sketched with me. And please don't ask where I get my ideas from. Thanks for the interest. Now be a good boy and shove-" He looked up. Eyes finding the two women. A charming smile grew on his lips as they looked at him. "Hey, nonny nonny! Sit right down here next to me. You two get sewing on them costumes. Off you go."
Dolly walked into the room. Hands patted the men's shoulders. "Come on, lads. I think our William's found his new muse."
"Sweet ladies." Dolly and the two men left as the Doctor and Martha took a seat. Klary planned to stand off to the side but the Doctor had pulled her onto his lap, arms possessively wrapped around her waist. The young woman rolled her eyes at the display. After the way he treated her thus far, she couldn't bring herself to understand his action. Though she relished in the contact, Klary forced herself from his grasp. Moved to stand by the window. Gaze on the movements below as she ignored the curious and confused glances thrown her way. Thankfully, Shakespeare was quick to remove the attention from her. "Such unusual clothes. So fitted."
"Er, verily, forsooth, egads."
Klary chuckled. "No, no, don't do that. Don't." The Doctor showed the playwright the psychic paper. "I'm Sir Doctor of Tardis, this is my wife, Klary,"- insert said woman's scoff- "and this is her companion, Miss Martha Jones."
"Interesting. That bit of paper. It's blank."
" Oh, that's… very clever. That proves it. Absolute genius."
"No, it says so right there. Sir Doctor, Klary Cedrics, Martha Jones. It says so."
"I say it's blank."
"Psychic paper. Er… long story. Oh, I hate starting from scratch." He closed the wallet and tucked it into his pocket.
"Psychic? Never heard that before and words are my trade. Who are you exactly?" His eyes went straight to Martha. Klary wanted to laugh but refrained. It made sense that Shakespeare was a fuckboy. Probably up there with Cassanova. "More's the point, who is your delicious blackamoor lady?"
Martha looked over to Klary. Said woman shot her a wink. "What did you say?"
"Whoops. Isn't that a word we use nowadays? An Ethiop girl? A swarth? A Queen of Afric?"
"I can't believe I'm hearing this."
"It's political correctness gone mad," the Doctor interjected. "Er, Martha's from a far-off land. Freedonia."
A man in expensive clothes and wearing a gold chain entered the office. Pompous. A man who allowed his station to go to his head. As Klary examined him, she tried to think of his name. She knew he was the official censor but she couldn't remember his name. "Excuse me! Hold hard a moment. This is abominable behaviour. A new play with no warning? I demand to see a script, Mister Shakespeare. As Master of the Revels, every new script must be registered at my office and examined by me before it can be performed."
"Tomorrow morning, first thing. I'll send it 'round."
"I don't work to your schedule, you work to mine. The script, now!"
"I can't."
"Then tomorrow's performance is cancelled." As he made that statement, Klary watched as Lilith left the room.
"It's all go around here, innit?" She whispered to the Doctor.
"I'm returning to my office for a banning order. If it's the last thing I do, Love's Labour's Won will never be played," Linley barked before he stormed out of the room.
Martha took a sip from her tankard. Dolly had been kind enough to bring some for the trio when she replenished Will's. "Well then, mystery solved. That's Love's Labour's Won over and done with. Thought it might be something, you know, more mysterious."
Two screams sounded from the street. Klary, the Doctor, and Martha rushed outside to investigate. Out in the courtyard, they found Linley staggering about as water spewed from his mouth. Shakespeare and Dolly joined them, those in close proximity stopped their tasks and watched.
"It's that Linley bloke."
"What's wrong with him?" The Doctor glanced behind him. Eyes met Klary's as he hoped for some answer. But it never came. The brunette just backed away. Moved towards a stack of crates. He huffed a breath before he rushed to the man. " Leave it to me. I'm a doctor."
"So am I, near enough." Martha joined him at the man's side. The two held him until there a final stream of water left him. A grunt as he collapsed, the two pulled down by his weight. Martha put her ear to his chest as the Doctor walked away and looked around. "Got to get the heart going. Mister Lynley! Come on. Can you hear me? You're going to be all right." Martha began to clear his airways for CPR but when she opened his mouth, water gushed out. "What the hell is that?"
The Doctor moved back to her side. "I've never seen a death like it. His lungs are full of water. He drowned and then… I don't know, like a blow to the heart. An invisible blow." Klary watched as the Doctor turned to Dolly. "Good mistress, this poor fellow has died from a sudden imbalance of the humours. A natural, if unfortunate demise. Call a constable and have him taken away."
"Yes, sir." Klary rolled her eyes as she watched the cause of the man's death rush forward and tell Dolly she would do it. Her victorious smirk missed by those around. All those but Klary.
Martha turned to the Doctor. "And why are you telling them that?"
"This lot have still got one foot in the Dark Ages. If I tell them the truth, they'll panic and think it was witchcraft."
"Okay, what is it then?"
"Witchcraft."
As they returned up to Elephant, the three entered Shakespeare's room. Klary remained by the door, leaning beside the frame. Dolly had been behind them though she stopped at the doorframe. "I've got you a room, Sir Doctor. You, your wife and Miss Jones are just across the landing."
Klary nodded at her and the woman walked off. "Poor Lynley. So many strange events. Not least of all, this land of Freedonia where a woman can be a doctor?"
"Where a woman can do what she likes."
"And you, Sir Doctor. How can a man so young have eyes so old?"
"I do a lot of reading."
"A trite reply. Yeah, that's what I'd do." His eyes moved to Klary but she shook her head. Not particularly keen to have him analyse her. To her content, the bard obliged. "And you? You look at them like you're surprised they exist. They're as much of a puzzle to you as they are to me." His eyes momentarily flicked to Klary before they returned to the companion.
"I think we should say goodnight," Martha said before she left the room. Klary followed her out but remained nearby. Leaning against the opposite wall as she awaited the Time Lord.
The Doctor had walked out. Stopped at the door frame to address the bard. His eyes glazed over Klary's frame. "Nighty night, Shakespeare."
When the pair were a bit further down the hall, Klary stopped. Not wanting to continue the charade. "You just going to stand there all night?"
"Well, it would certainly be better than spending the night with you."
"And what's that supposed to mean?"
"Don't play stupid. This entire time you've ignored me. Blamed me for something I haven't done yet."
"But you have. I just watched it."
"Fine. Would you rather I blame you every time you do something stupid in the future?"
"You could have died."
"Oh, please," her voice grew, "there have been plenty times you've almost died. With me present. Because you didn't listen. Don't give me that bullshit when just about every adventure with you has the chance of death." She threw her hands in the air. Tears welled in frustration. "Enjoy your adventure, Doctor. I'll see you in the Tardis."
"What?" Klary didn't reply. With sad eyes, she stormed off. Made her way down the stairs and out into the night.
The coily-haired brunette had made herself comfortable on a crate as she forced away her tears. She didn't want to cry. Not really. She was just so… angry? Hurt? She couldn't understand what had happened. Sure, she had apparently almost died, but she couldn't bring herself to understand why his worry came off as anger. The most she could suspect was that she facilitated her almost death. She would ask a future Doctor. One who wouldn't make her feel like shit. Preferably Eleven or Thirteen.
A scream rang through the night, jolting Klary from her doze. Heart racing as she stood, she noticed something clumped at her feet. A familiar brown trenchcoat. Apparently, the alien had checked on her at some point in the midst of her dozing. Hastily, she picked it up and rushed up to Shakespeare's room. In the rooms, she found the Doctor by Dolly and Martha at the window. "Her heart gave out. She died of fright."
"Klary?"
The Doctor moved from the deceased woman and rushed to Martha's side. "What did you see?"
"A witch."
For the remainder of the night, the four stayed in Will's room. Klary had returned to her spot against the wall not long after she'd handed the Time Lord his coat. Said coat tossed upon a chest as he and Martha took the seats at Shakespeare's desk. The bard stood behind his chair. Hands run through his hair. "Oh, sweet Dolly Bailey. She sat out three bouts of the plague in this place. We all ran like rats. But what could have scared her so? She had such enormous spirit."
"Rage, rage against the dying of the light."
"I might use that."
"You can't. It's someone else's."
"But the thing is, Lynley drowned on dry land, Dolly died of fright, and they were both connected to you."
"You're accusing me?"
"No, but I saw a witch, big as you like, flying, cackling away, and you've written about witches."
"I have? When was that?" The playwright asked, face scrunched in confusion.
Klary shook her head. Voice low as she addressed the companion. "He hasn't yet."
"Peter Streete spoke of witches."
"Who's Peter Streete?"
"Our builder. He sketched the plans to the Globe."
"The architect? Hold on. The architect. The architect! The Globe! Come on!"
At the empty theatre, William and Martha stood on the stage. Klary sat in the first row, feet on the barrier as the Doctor stood in the pit. Klary kept her distance though she noticed the concerned glances Martha periodically shot her. She did her best to brush them off. Klary knew the tension was thick, but it wasn't something he was comfortable speaking about with someone. Not at the moment at least. "Columns there, right? Fourteen sides. I've always wondered, but I never asked. Tell me, Will, why fourteen sides?"
"It was the shape Peter Streete thought best, that's all. Said it carried the sound well."
"Fourteen. Why does that ring a bell? Fourteen?"
"There's fourteen lines in a sonnet," Martha threw out.
"So there is. Good point. Words and shapes following the same design. Fourteen lines, fourteen sides, fourteen facets. Oh, my head. Tetradecagon. Think, think, think!" The Doctor tapped the top of his head. "Words, letters, numbers, lines!"
"This is just a theatre."
"Oh yeah, but a theatre's magic, isn't it? You should know. Stand on this stage, say the right words with the right emphasis at the right time." He went to lean against the stage. "Oh, you can make men weep, or cry with joy. Change them. You can change people's minds just with words in this place. And if you exaggerate that..."
"It's like your police box. Small, wooden box with all that power inside."
"Oh! Oh, Martha Jones, I like you. Tell you what, though. Peter Streete would know. Can I talk to him?"
"You won't get an answer. A month after finishing this place, lost his mind."
"Why, what happened?"
"Started raving about witches, hearing voices, babbling. His mind was addled."
"Where is he now?"
"Bedlam."
"What's Bedlam?"
"Bethlem Hospital. The madhouse."
"We're going there. Right now. Come on!"
"Wait! I'm coming with you. I want to witness this at first hand." Klary rolled her eyes at the Doctor's demand and huffed as she stood. Waited for the three to walk by her before she followed. As Shakespeare walked by, two men entered. Will held up a small stack of papers and stopped before them. "Ralph, the last scene as promised. Copy it, hand it 'round, learn it, speak it. Back before curtain up. And remember kid, project. Eyes and teeth. You never know, the Queen might turn up. As if. She never does."
The quartet walked down Southwark, Klary behind and moving at a much slower pace. A small smile graced her lips as Shakespeare turned to Martha. "So, tell me of Freedonia, where women can be doctors, writers, actors."
"This country's run by a woman."
"Ah, she's royal. That's God's business. Though, you are a royal beauty."
"Whoa, nelly!" The two stopped and to avoid running into them, Klary walked around them. Her gaze remained low as she continued to walk. "I know for a fact you've got a wife in the country."
"But Martha, this is Town."
"Come on. We can all have a good flirt later!"
"Is that a promise, Doctor?"
Klary almost laughed at the Time Lord's put-out expression. "Oh, fifty-seven academics just punched the air. Now move!"
The four continued on though Shakespeare continued to flirt with Martha. When they arrived at Bedlam, Klary's nose scrunched up. She wasn't looking forward to entering the place. The wails that left the place caused a shiver to run down her spine. Inside, her discomfort grew. The cries and begging from those inside pulled at her. Brought out her own memories of her time in hospital. Vastly different due to modern advances, but still the same in the pain of those who graced the hospital's rooms. With a steeling breath, Klary followed the three into the building. They followed- who for lack of a better word- the caretaker through the halls. "Does my Lord Doctor wish some entertainment while he waits? I can whip these madmen. They'll put on a good show for you. Bandog and Bedlam."
"No, I don't."
Shot down, the man gestured to the area. "Well, wait here, my lords, while I make him decent for the ladies." The keeper walked down the corridor while the four waited.
"So this is what you call a hospital, yeah? Where the patients are whipped to entertain the gentry?" The junior doctor's tone judgemental. "And you put your friend in here?"
"Oh, it's all so different in Freedonia."
"But you're clever! Do you honestly think this place is any good?"
"I've been mad. I've lost my mind. Fear of this place set me right again. Serves its purpose."
"Mad in what way?"
"You lost your son."
"My only boy. The Black Death took him. I wasn't even there."
"I didn't know. I'm sorry."
"It made me question everything. The futility of this fleeting existence. To be or not to be. Oh, that's quite good."
"You should write that down," the Doctor advised.
"Maybe not. A bit pretentious?"
"This way, my lord!" the keeper called out. They walked towards his voice until they reached the cell. The cell which held the man they needed to speak with. In Peter Streete's cell, the man sat on a cot. Dressed in rags, he was hunched over with his back to them. The man opened the door and the group in. "They can be dangerous, my lord. Don't know their own strength."
"I think it helps if you don't whip them. Now, get out!" the keeper, chastised, left, locking the door behind him. Klary, Martha, and Shakespeare remained by the gate. The Doctor gently approached the addled man. "Peter? Peter Streete?"
"He's the same as he was. You'll get nothing out of him."
"Peter." The Doctor touched the addled man's shoulder. His head whipped up and stared wide-eyed at the Time Lord. Mouth ajar, his blackened teeth visible. Trembled. The Doctor took the opportunity and placed his fingers to Peter's temples. "Peter, I'm the Doctor. Go into the past." Peter shook his head. "One year ago. Let your mind go back. Back to when everything was fine and shiny. Everything that happened in this year since happened to somebody else. It was just a story. A winter's tale. Let go. That's it. That's it, just let go." He gently laid Peter onto his cot. "Tell me the story, Peter. Tell me about the witches."
"Witches spoke to Peter. In the night, they whispered, they whispered…" His hand moved to his ear as he wiggled his fingers. Mimicked the whispers. "Got Peter to build the Globe to their design. Their design! The fourteen walls. Always fourteen. When the work was done…" Peter began to laugh maniacally for a moment before he grew sullen."They snapped poor Peter's wits."
"Where did Peter see the witches? Where in the city?" The man's breathing increased. Body shook. Klary could see the signs of an oncoming panic attack. The Doctor leant down to his level. To meet his eyes. "Peter, tell me. You've got to tell me. Where were they?"
"All Hallows Street."
"Too many words." The Doctor whipped to beside the three, body shielding Klary as he stood in front of them. Before the quartet stood a wrinkled, bedraggled woman. The looks of what many considered classic of a witch.
"What the hell?"
"Just one touch of the heart."
"No!"
The witch put her hands on Peter's chest. The man gave a strangled gasp as he died. The witch enjoyed the taking of the poor man's life as she gave an excited wail.
"Witch! I'm seeing a witch!"
"Now, who would be next, hmm?" She wiggled her fingers as she taunted them. "Just one touch. Oh, oh, I'll stop your frantic hearts. Poor, fragile mortals."
"Let us out!" Martha turned to the bars and attempted to shake them. "Let us out!"
Klary pulled her away from the cell door. "Everyone's screaming that Martha."
The witch continued to taunt them. "And who will die first, hmm?"
"Well, if you're looking for volunteers…"
"Don't you fucking dare," the coily-haired brunette growled. The Doctor barely spared her a glance. Her anger grew with each step he took. Hadn't they just argued about that?
"Doctor, can you stop her?" Shakespeare muttered.
Her head whipped to the Bard as she addressed him. His words not a silent as he hoped. "No mortal has power over me!"
"No, but there's a power in words. If I can find the right one, if I can just know you…"
"None of Earth has knowledge of us."
"Then it's a good thing I'm here. Now think, think, think. Humanoid, female, uses shapes and words to channel energy… Ah! Fourteen!" The witch gave an indignant huff. "That's it! Fourteen! The fourteen stars of the Rexel planetary configuration! Creature, I name you Carrionite!" The creature screamed and vanished in a flash of light.
"What did you do?"
"I named her. The power of a name. That's old magic."
"But there's no such thing as magic."
"Well, it's just a different sort of science. You lot, you chose mathematics. Given the right string of numbers, the right equation, you can split the atom. Carrionites use words instead."
"Use them for what?"
"The end of the world."
Back at the Elephant, the four were in Shakespeare's room. The man was at a bowl, washing his face, Klary returned to her spot by the door, Martha leaned against the table as the Doctor paced the room. "The Carrionites disappeared way back at the dawn of the universe. Nobody was sure if they were real or legend."
Will stood up, towel in hand as he faced them. "Well, I'm going with real."
"But what do they want?"
"A new empire on Earth. A world of bones and blood and witchcraft," Klary interjected.
"But how?"
He leaned against the desk opposite Martha. "I'm looking at the man with the words."
"Me? But I've done nothing."
"Hold on, though. What were you doing last night, when that Carrionite was in the room?"
"Finishing the play."
"What happens on the last page?"
"The boys get the girls. They have a bit of a dance. It's all as funny and thought-provoking as usual. Except those last few lines. Funny thing is, I don't actually remember writing them."
"That's it!" He began to walk towards Shakespeare. "They used you. They gave you the final words. Like a spell, like a code. Love's Labour's Won, it's a weapon! The right combination of words, spoken at the right place, with the shape of the Globe as an energy converter! The play's the thing! And yes, you can have that." At the Doctor's request, Shakespeare placed a map on his desk. The Time Lord searching for All Hallows. "All Hallows Street. There it is. Martha, we'll track them down. Will, you get to the Globe. Whatever you do, stop that play!"
"I'll do it. All these years I've been the cleverest man around." Shakespeare held out his hand for the Doctor to shake. A gesture the Doctor returned. "Next to you, I know nothing."
"Oh, don't complain."
"I'm not! It's marvellous. Good luck, Doctor."
"Good luck, Shakespeare. Once more unto the breach." He grabbed his coat and rushed out of the room.
"I like that! Wait a minute, that's one of mine."
The Doctor poked his head around the door. "Oh, just shift!"
In a few minutes, the three had gone through a few cross-streets. They had moved quickly. Martha and the Doctor ran side by side as Klary trailed behind. "All Hallows Street. But which house?"
"The thing is, though, am I missing something here? The world didn't end in 1599. It just didn't. Look at me. I'm living proof."
"Oh, how to explain the mechanics of the infinite temporal flux? I know, Back to the Future. It's like Back to the Future."
"The film?"
"Well, there aren't any books, Martha," Klary mentioned. "You know how Marty goes back and changes history?"
"And he starts fading away…" Martha's eyes widened as she realised what was being said. "Oh my god! Am I going to fade?"
"You and the entire future of the human race. It ends right now, in 1599 if we don't stop it. But which house?" The door to the house in front of them creaked open and slammed against the wall. The Doctor leaned closer to Martha. "Make that witch house." With a smirk, he led the way in.
Inside, the Doctor pushed aside a cloth door cover as they entered a larger room. Towards the back was the witch they had seen around the Elephant. She watched as the three approached though her eyes remained trained on the Doctor. "I take it we're expected?"
"Oh, I think death has been waiting for you a very long time."
"Right then, it's my turn." Martha stepped forward. A cocky expression on her features. "I know how to do this. I name thee Carrionite!" Lilith gave a sardonic gasp, a cruel smile on her lips. "What did I do wrong? Was it the finger?"
"The power of a name works only once," Lilith said smugly. "Observe." She pointed a finger at the companion. "I gaze upon this bag of bones and now I name thee Martha Jones." Martha fell backwards and Klary was quick to catch her and gently placed her on the ground.
"What have you done?"
"Only sleeping, alas." Her tone dejected as she looked at her finger. "It's curious, her name has less impact. She's somehow out of her time. And as for you, Sir Doctor." She hopped and pointed at the man. "Fascinating. There is no name. Why would a man hide his title in such despair? Oh, but look. There's still one word with the power that aches-"
"The naming won't work on me."
"But your heart grows cold. The north wind blows as the one you chose to marry. Distant is the heart though it carries its affections. Yet you tarry with your… Klary."
"Oh, big mistake." The Doctor stormed up to her. Anger radiated from him. Klary watched the witch's face. She showed no tension ar fear. "Because that name keeps me fighting. The Carrionites vanished. Where did you go?
She turned, walked back towards a desk before she faced him. "The Eternals found the right word to banish us into deep darkness."
"And how did you escape?"
"New words. New and glittering. From a mind like no other."
"Shakespeare."
She hummed her confirmation. Eyes moved to a cauldron. Klary couldn't see from her spot beside Martha, but she knew it had garnered the Doctro's attention. That is showed the distraught Bard. "His son perished. The grief of a genius. Grief without measure. Madness enough to allow us entrance."
"How many of you?"
"Just the three. But the play tonight shall restore the rest. Then the human race will be purged as pestilence. And from this world, we will lead the universe back into the old ways of blood and magic."
"Hmm. Busy schedule." He scratched his temple as he closed the distance between them and stopped before her. "But first, you've got to get past me."
"Oh, that should be a pleasure, considering my enemy has such a handsome shape." Lilith caressed the side of his face. Her other hand had moved behind his head, a small pair of scissors in hand.
"Now, that's one form of magic that's definitely not going to work on me."
"Oh, we'll see."
She snipped a few strands of hair from him. "What did you do?"
"Souvenir."
"Well, give it back!" She flew out the window. Levitated a few feet away as she gloated. "Well, that's just cheating."
"Behold, Doctor. Men to Carrionites are nothing but puppets." She pulled out a wooden doll and wrapped his hair around it. Klary glanced at the companion as she slowly roused.
"Now, you might call that magic. I'd call that a DNA replication module."
"What use is your science now?"
Scissors in hand, Lilith stabbed the doll. Klary rushed to her feet and grabbed hold of the Doctor at his pained scream. Her eyes met Lilth's as he collapsed. Her face twisted in a scowl as the window slammed closed. Martha, finally awake, rushed over. With her up, Klary backed away. "Oh my God, Doctor. Don't worry, I've got you." She knelt beside him and placed her ear to his chest. A moment later, she slapped his chest. "Hold on, mister. Two hearts?"
"I'm making a habit of it." He surged to his feet but screamed out and would have collapsed if not for Martha's hold on him. "I've only got one heart working!" He gasped out a few breaths. Face scrunched in displeasure. "How do you people cope? I've got to get the other one started. Hit me! Hit me on the chest!" Martha hit his right side. He made a pained grunt. "Dah! Other side." She did as said and he leaned over. "Now, on the back, on the back."Hands together, she slammed her hands onto his back. "Left a bit." Martha repeated her actions. The Doctor leaned back, wiggled his back a bit. "Dah, lovely. There we go." He stood to his full height. "Badda boom-ba! Well, what are you standing there for? Come one, the Globe!"Once again, the three were running.
As they reached an intersection, Klary stopped and leaned against a wall. When the two turned and returned her way, she joined them in the run to the Globe. Upon reaching, they found a red glow over the theatre. The man who had spoke of the end of the world relished in his prediction while others in the area screamed and ran away. Without giving the Doctor a chance to speak, Klary pulled them to the stage door.
A storm raged over the building. They could hear the audience screaming in panic but Klary knew they would be unable to leave. Backstage, they found Shakespeare in a chair, coming to as he held his head.
"Stop the play! I think that was it. Yeah, I said, stop the play!"
"I hit my head," the man groaned.
"Yeah, don't rub it, you'll go bald." Another scream ripped through the night. "I think that's my cue." He ran out, the three right behind. Wind violently whipped at them. On the stage, they got a view of the Carrionites and the panicked audience. In a box, Lilith was seen. A crystal ball in hand, held out as a red light emitted from it. Black bat-like creatures flew from the crystal and around the theatre. They circled a bit then flew up into the sky. The vortex continued as more emerged. Their figures growing in size.
The Doctor pulled Shakespeare to centre stage. "Come on, Will. History needs you!"
"But what can I do?"
"Reverse it!"
"How am I supposed to do that?"
"The shape of the Globe gives words power, but you're the wordsmith. The one true genius. The only man clever enough to do it."
"But what words? I have none ready."
"You're William Shakespeare!"
"But these Carrionite phrases, they need such precision."
"Trust yourself. When you're locked away in your room, the words just come, don't they? Like magic. Words of the right sound, the right shape, the right rhythm. Words that last forever! That's what you do, Will. You choose perfect words. Do it. Improvise!"
"Close up this din of hateful, dire decay, decomposition of your witches' plot! You thieve my brains, consider me your toy. My doting Doctor tells me I am not! Foul Carrionite spectres, cease your show! Between the points…" He looked at the Doctor for help.
"Seven six one three nine oh!"
"Seven six one three nine oh!" He repeated the Time Lord's words. "Banished like a tinker's cuss, I say to thee…" He glanced at the Doctor once more but he seemed to have no words.
"Expelliarmus!" Martha shouted when she realised neither man knew what to say. What word would rhyme with cuss.
"Expelliarmus!"
"Expelliarmus!"
"Good old JK!" The Carrionites screamed as they were sucked into a tornado. All the pages of the play taken along with them as they were pulled into the crystal ball. "Love's Labour's Won. There it goes."
The sky cleared with a flash as the vortex imploded on itself. After a few moments, someone in the crowd began to clap. Soon the theatre was a cacophony of applause. "They think it was all special effects?" Martha stated in disbelief.
"Your effect is special, indeed."
"It's not your best line." Klary smiled before she went backstage. Just before she closed the door, she saw the playwright and Martha bow with the cast and the Doctor in the theatre box. Slowly the theatre cleared out. The four remained until everyone was gone. Once everything was cleared, the four returned to the Elephant for the night.
The next morning, the four were back at the Globe. Martha and Shakespeare sitting on the stage exchanging jokes. Klary chuckled at their equal confusion. She had managed to get some sleep and although she remained irritated, she felt better physically after some rest. It didn't stop her from ignoring the Time Lord though.
"That's brilliant. Doesn't make sense, mind you, but never mind that. Now come here." He wrapped an arm around her and pulled her closer to him.
"I've only just met you."
"The Doctor may never kiss you. Why not entertain a man who will?"
"I don't know how to tell you this, oh great genius, but your breath doesn't half stink."
The Doctor walked over wearing a small stiff ruff. A skull in one hand and a hat in another. "Good props store back there. I'm not sure about this though. Reminds me of a Sycorax."
"Sycorax. Nice word. I'll have that off you as well."
"I should be on ten per cent. How's your head?" He placed the skull and hat down.
"Still aching."
"Here, I got you this." The Doctor pulled off the ruff and put it on Shakespeare. "Neck brace. Wear that for a few days til it's better. Although you might want to keep it. It suits you."
"What about the play?"
"Gone. I looked all over. Every single copy of Love's Labour's Won went up in the sky."
"My lost masterpiece."
"You could write it up again."
"Nah." Klary shook her head. "There's still power in those words. Best it stays forgotten."
"Oh, but I've got new ideas. Perhaps it's time I wrote about fathers and sons, in memory of my boy, my precious Hamnet."
"Hamnet?"
"That's him."
"Ham-net?"
"What's wrong with that?"
"Anyway," the Doctor interjected, "time we were off. I've got a nice attic in the Tardis where this lot can scream for all eternity," he picked up the crystal ball, "and we've got to take Martha back to Freedonia."
"You mean travel on through time and space?"
"You what?"
"You're from another world like the Carrionites. And Martha is from the future. It's not hard to work out."
"That's incredible. You're incredible."
"We're alike in many ways, Doctor. Martha, let me say goodbye to you in a new verse. A sonnet for my Dark Lady." Klary watched as the Doctor and companion shared a look over the Bard's head. "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate…" Klary laughed at the disbelief on Martha's face.
Before Will could continue, the two actors rushed in. "Will!"
"Will, you'll never believe it. She's here! She's turned up!"
Smiles were on both men's faces as they spoke. "We're the talk of the town. She heard about last night. She wants us to perform it again."
"Who?"
"Her Majesty. She's here!"
There was fanfare and an elderly Queen Elizabeth entered with two pikemen. The Doctor had a large smile on his face. "Queen Elizabeth the First!" Klary grabbed the arm of his coat and Martha's and slowly began to pull them away. She noticed how Elizabeth's eyes grew angrier as her eyes slid from the Time Lord to the coily-haired brunette.
"Klary?"
The Doctor looked between the two women. "What?"
"My sworn enemy."
Martha slowly got to her feet. "What?"
"Off with her head!"
"What?"
"Never mind what! Just run! See you, Will, and thanks."
"Stop that pernicious Klary!"
The trio ran down Southwark and back towards the Tardis. The pikemen were close behind. "Stop in the name of the Queen!"
"What have you done to upset her?"
"How should I know? Haven't even met her yet. That's time travel for you. Still, can't wait to find out."
"It was definitely memorable," Klary snarked as they reached the Tardis and the women rushed in. She wasn't exactly sure as to why she received the ire of the woman and she could only think it had to do with the anniversary adventure. Some part of her had been excited to live through it and yet, she was concerned as to what had changed so very much.
"That's something to look forward to. Ooo!" Klary pulled him in and slammed the door shut as an arrow whizzed towards his head.
So this was an interesting chapter... kinda. It's definitely a stark contrast to the previous chapter which was much more lovey-dovey. But there was something that happened in a previous adventure, one not shown on the show so we'll get to the reason why soon. I promise things between them will definitely get better the next they meet.
Another thing, yes, I did add that bit about the Doctor's whiteness. To be honest, I always felt there were some oversights in some of the adventures where Martha was concerned and it was always something that bothered me. I'm glad that as time progressed, the show got better at acknowledging how people were treated at specific times throughout history. Still, the Doctor has been portrayed as a white male and has thus enjoyed that privilege.
Anyways, I hope you enjoyed the chapter. It was interesting to write especially due to how I started it. Hope to hear from you soon.
savethemadscientist:It was. I blushed a bit as I wrote it lol. Their relationship is definitely very advanced on his end. With the glimpse she managed to get from the photo, I like to think the Tardis was in her own way giving her that nudge. I'm glad you enjoyed the change. Klary definitely wants to save as many people as she can. So the Doctor and Klary do get married. I will say it's sometime between Martha and Clara. Not much but it's something, I had to read back to the first time the Doctor called Klary his wife and it was literally in the first chapter. I promise I will definitely make their wedding a chapter of its own. I am also going to do the first meeting of Churchill at some point. I'm pretty sure it's a webtoon or something so once I find the video of it, I'll start writing it so I don't forget. Also, thank you. My birthday was great. My husband took me to see the D&D movie and I got to laze around which was lovely. Anyways, I hope you like this chapter.
smilin steph: I'm glad you enjoyed the chapter. Hope you liked this one as well.
