Last time:
Sylvia calls UNIT for help, Torchwood talks to Donna, Donna is reunited with the Tenth Doctor, and the Eleventh Doctor comes to the aid of a distressed nurse named Mary Stonebridge.
Chapter 4
In Which People Fax Themselves
Mary stared at him. "A what?"
He backtracked toward the lift, nodding at her to follow. "A transmat. We're headed for the seventh floor."
She climbed on after him. "What's a transmat? And how could they have taken the baby anywhere from the seventh floor? That's right in the middle of the hospital. Even if they wanted a heli, they would have had to go all the way to the roof."
Ah, yes. Time to start observing how she was with aliens. He had to explain anyways. "Well, do you know what a teleport is? Think Star Trek or something."
"Teleports are science fiction." She crossed her arms. "I need a straight answer here."
"Ah, well, Star Trek teleports are a bad comparison anyway. Forget I said that. A transmat works nothing like that." The Doctor thought quickly, eyes scanning the upper edge of the lift. "I know. Think of a 3D printer."
"Okay?"
He smiled. "Good! Now make it a 3D fax machine, and delete the original item. The molecules are all uploaded to a wi-fi connecting the machines."
"What's the difference?" Mary stopped. "No, wait. Are you going anywhere with this?"
The Doctor stepped out onto the seventh floor. "The method of transport is completely different. Star Trek hypothetically locks onto the energy signature of the object to transport to and from anywhere; transmats are fixed transports between two places that transfer on touch, not energy locks; and real-life teleports are usually-" He caught Mary scowling, still standing in the elevator. He blinked. "I suppose that doesn't matter right now. Are you coming or not?"
She pressed the hold door button. "You're talking about science fiction as though it was real. Give me one good reason why I should let a madman anywhere near the abducted patient."
He met her eyes. Gray. A bit of a boring color really, like rain-soaked concrete. No, focus! He scowled, "Because, Mary Stonebridge, I'm not the one taking infants away from their mother to be experimented on. Didn't you think there was something out of the ordinary going on here with the vitals you got from that child?"
Mary's eyes softened a bit. Oh, she was listening at least. Good.
"Think, Mary? Why would anyone want to experiment on an infant? A human infant? No one that could actually convince a hospital to hand a child over."
Her face went dark. "That's what I never understood. Who is Torchwood?"
"They're government, technically." The Doctor made a face as though he'd just eaten baked beans. Beans are evil. "Not very good government. They're a secret organization that deals with aliens. They have a motto: if it's alien, it's ours. Never mind if the alien is from Earth, originally."
Mary stared at him. Still, she pressed the open door button again to continue their conversation. "Government? Aliens? You sound like some conspiracy theorist."
"Alien infants, on the other hand, that's something Torchwood has no issue abducting." The Doctor put his hand against the door frame to keep it open. "Mary, please! The longer we stand here talking, the longer Torchwood has to do something to the child. I'm going to need your help to return him to his mother."
"Sorry," she lowered her head. "You could be right anyway. It's just… this is all a bit crazy if you ask me."
He held out his hand to her. "Yes, it is a bit crazy, but I'll help you. We'll get the child back, and I'll hook you up with something better than this job. If you want to help people, you shouldn't be stuck in a hospital that hands over children."
Looking up, Mary took his hand and stepped out of the elevator. "You're not just an MD, are you?"
He shook his head. "Psychic paper. It shows you anything I want. I'm not a medical doctor – well, I have some advanced medical training, just not from Earth – but it was the fastest way to recruit your help. What I really do is step in to resolve crises. It's just the Doctor, by the way. It wasn't an unheard-of naming convention among my people."
"You're saying you're an alien?"
"The good kind!" He said quickly. "I'm helping, aren't I?"
She blinked. "Is the baby one of your people? Is that why you're helping?"
He shook his head, eyes drooping. "That's impossible. I'd know if there were any other Time Lords still alive. I just happened to be here, and, as I said, what I do is resolve crises. I can't just leave a child in Torchwood's hands."
He turned. "Come on. We should get going."
They went to Torchwood's office. It was locked.
"I'm starting to think I should have called the police," Mary said, glaring at the doorknob.
The Doctor shook his head. "They can't help. Torchwood is government, remember?" He reached into his jacket pocket, pulled out his sonic screwdriver, and aimed it at the door. "Besides, we're in."
He barged in, mentally preparing something clever for if he got caught. He hoped he got caught. That would be the fastest way to find the child, wouldn't it? Unless Torchwood wised up to him.
No one was inside. There was, however, a computer, left on the office desk. That could do just as well. "Hang on," he told Mary. "If there's a map of where we're going, possibly with a clue to where they're keeping him, that will make our job so much faster."
Mary hung over his shoulder as he searched. "How are you familiar with using our computers anyway?"
He didn't look up. The browser history was interesting: someone was using secure email recently, after the time the infant was taken, he'd say. "Oh, me? I've spent a lot of time here. While Earth might not be my planet, I've put a lot of work into keeping it safe. Besides, it's the closest I've got to a home now."
"Why?" Mary paused. "Hold on. You said all your people are dead?"
He closed his eyes for a moment and took a breath. "That's right. There was a war, and my planet was destroyed at its end. My people with it. I'm the last one."
Mary's hand found its way on his shoulder. "I'm sorry. I don't know what to say."
He took another breath and opened his eyes. "There's nothing that can be done for them anymore. But there is someone we can do something for, and we need to save him." He opened the email and scanned through. "Ha! Found him!"
Mary leaned forward to read, but the Doctor needed to see if there was a map of Torchwood he could access from this computer. He filled her in instead. "Someone requested that diapers, blankets, and baby formula be delivered to the observation room. There's no sense in killing something you want to study long-term. He'll be there."
Moments later, Torchwood's schematics were pulled up and the Doctor memorized ten different routes to where they were going. He bounced toward the transmat. "Wait in this office. I'll bring him back."
"Doctor!" Mary called behind him, but he was out of the hospital before he could hear what she wanted.
It didn't matter long. Humans! Couldn't anyone for once just stay where he told them to? Mary caught up with him, making an obvious effort to fight the bewilderment on her face. She couldn't believe that the transmat actually worked, could she? "Doctor," she hissed, "aren't you an alien? What happens if you get caught?"
"I'm really good at sneaking through corridors. But if I do get caught, I get taken to the observation room and break out with the baby." The Doctor scanned the long, empty corridor in front of them. He could swear he could hear footsteps around where there was finally a corner. Holding a finger over his lips, he pulled Mary through a door.
The lights turned on automatically. They'd ended up in a restroom. A women's restroom, judging by the floral air freshener and the pale pink tiles.
"Doctor?"
He pressed his finger to his lips. "There's someone coming. Wait until they pass."
They waited silently for a few minutes until the Doctor was certain the danger was gone. He paused with his hand on the door to the corridor. "There's no heading back now. They'll be on the other side. But if you're going to come, keep quiet until we're back at the hospital. We don't want to get caught."
"Right." Mary nodded.
The Doctor led them through snaking corridors and down a winding staircase. They ducked as they reached a room with large windows and several lab-coated scientists milling around.
Mary nudged the Doctor. "We're in the right spot," she whispered. "I saw the baby. But how are we going to get in there? Can you use that paper?"
"No." He reached inside his pocket and wrapped his hand around his sonic screwdriver. "They're trained to see through tricks like that. The best we can do is to create a distraction, grab the baby, and run."
The Doctor looked around for something he could use. The walls were bare around here, but up on the ceiling were the fire sprinklers. He could use them to trip the entire fire system, alarm and all. He calculated and aimed.
The sirens blared. Within seconds, every Torchwood scientist in the observation room poured out, heading for the nearest stairwell.
The Doctor slipped inside, Mary close behind him. He could hear the infant's wails competing with the alarm: Someone help me! Get me back to my mum.
They wove around tables of microscopes and cages of alien creatures, the Doctor sonicking cages open on their way. The creatures scampered away. Finally, they reached a newborn on a padded mat, sloppily wrapped in a white blanket.
The Doctor stopped in front of him. "It's alright. I'm the Doctor, and this is Mary. We're come to take you back to your mother."
The child calmed, looking up at the Doctor through teary eyes.
The Doctor would have said more as he reached for the child, but he froze: this wasn't just a newborn. This was a newborn with his hospital tag still around his ankle: Jonathan Wilfred Noble.
"No." The Doctor's eyes widened. He knew that name. He knew that name very well. But it couldn't be. This was impossible.
Even more impossibly, when he payed attention, he felt a Time Lord presence right in front of him. A young Time Lord presence, but it was unmistakable: he was looking at himself.
Mary peered at him. She peered at adult him, that is. "No what? Is everything alright?"
He stared at his infant self. "This is – well, it's not impossible. It's more than theoretically possible for Time Lords to travel back to the day they were born. It's just very, very unlikely that of all the times my ship could have gone when she drifted off-course, it would be to here and now."
He blinked, synapses connecting. He didn't remember his mother very well in his old age, not his human mother at least – only that she was ginger and loved him very much – but didn't his younger self say that he was here to help Donna, as in Donna was-once Noble? Possibly Noble once again. Shawn must have left her because of the pregnancy. Oh, Donna. Mum.
His hands trembled. "The thing is, genetically, I'm fully Time Lord. I thought this whole timeline must have been a regeneration-induced hallucination. I was from Gallifrey. I wasn't from Earth, except I am."
"What are you on about?"
The Doctor nodded to Jon. "This is me. The only reason you see adult me here is because I'm a time-traveler."
Mary nodded, but her eyes were still clouded with confusion. It was as though she were trying very hard to keep an open mind. "Right. After teleports, I guess time travel could be possible for you aliens."
Jon opened his mouth to resume his fussing. Are you going to get me home or not?
"Of course." The Doctor reached for his younger self, but Jon screamed out about how he was in pain. He pulled away, now very glad that Mary followed him through Torchwood. He looked at her. "Mine is a time-sensitive species. Our young ones especially so. I can't pick him up without hurting him, being his future self. I need you to carry him back."
Mary scooped Jon up. "I'm sure that makes sense to others from your planet. Let's just get you to safety, alright?"
They ran back the way they came. The Doctor wasn't paying nearly as much attention this time: the building should have been empty, but he rounded a corner and saw a Torchwood employee turning around. He shoved Mary gently to keep her from rounding the corner too. "Hide," he hissed at her.
The employee was a tall man with thick, flyaway blond hair and two eyes dwarfed by the size of his nose. His eyes locked on the Doctor.
"Hello. My name's Jon. I'm brand-new. I don't suppose you could direct me to the nearest fire escape?"
The man stepped toward him. "There isn't any fire. A simple search of our systems revealed they was hacked by extraterrestrial technology. We haven't been hiring anybody lately either. Who are you really?"
"Oh well, it was worth a try." The Doctor held his hands up. "Why is Torchwood hanging around hospitals?"
"You're the Doctor, aren't you?" The man lunged forward and knocked the Doctor against a wall. He pinned him to it.
With a look up and down the man's side, the Doctor grinned, mind rushing to find a way out of his predicament. All he could do until then was keep him talking. "You're unarmed. That's an improvement."
"If you were quiet, that would be an improvement. If I catch you, I'll be more than just the caretaker."
Mary's hand reached between the Doctor and his captor with a pocket-sized bottle of hairspray and squirted the captor's eyes. The captor yelped.
The Doctor shoved him off. He checked that Mary was still holding the baby, grabbed the hand she had her hairspray in, and sprinted toward the nearest lift. He used his sonic to send them hurtling toward the transmat floor. They dashed down that long entrance hallway, leaped through the wall, and bounded out of the hospital office.
"Made it!" The Doctor hugged Mary. Nothing serious, just in celebration. John started wailing at the contact.
He pulled back. "Thanks for back there. You, Mary Stonebridge, are an example of the very best of people."
Mary glanced at him as she made nonsense noises at John. "You're alright, now. He didn't mean to hurt you. Let's just focus on getting you back to your mum, alright? I don't know how we can keep you away from Torchwood afterwards, but I'm sure your mum can think of someplace safe for you. Something's got to work if your older self is free."
The Doctor frowned, not wanting to worry his temporary companion with the fact that time could be rewritten. Instead, he voiced something else that was bothering him. "There was another one of me running around. He said he was here to help Mum. It worries me that we haven't run into him. He would have been getting our infant self back for her unless something happened to him or Mum."
"We'd better hurry and check up on them then." Mary strode forward. "Come on. Room's this way."
He followed behind her, blanking out a few times on the way. It couldn't be helped, he supposed. It was boring. And he'd picked up a test tube and a syringe somewhere along the way. He couldn't remember what for. Oh well. He pocketed them.
When they entered, his younger self was sitting next to Donna, having his hand held, his eyes staring at his knees. "Can I stay with you while I'm going through therapy?"
"Of course you can! You're like family. You just help explain things to Mum. Deal?"
The Doctor stared at them. "Therapy? I don't remember this. And since when can she remember without her mind burning?"
Sand Shoes looked up. "What? But therapy's going to take months. You forgot this too? Do you at least remember Mars?"
The Doctor blinked. "Of course I remember Mars. It was horrible, having to listen to those people die and being unable to do anything. But why would that motivate us to seek therapy when nothing else did?"
Sand Shoes' jaw dropped. His hand trembled on Donna's. "You mean you-? Are you sure? I don't like you. I am never going to become you. I will do everything in my power to rewrite time."
Donna looked at Sand Shoes, then looked at him. "Spaceman, who's this?" She was quickly distracted as she noticed the bundle in Mary's arms. "Jon! You brought him back!"
Mary did the one thing Donna had been asking the hospital staff most to do: she let her hold her baby. She then busied herself with unhooking the pain killers in Donna's arm. No one had bothered after she gave birth to an alien baby.
Meanwhile, Jon was squealing and reaching for his mother. Donna planted a kiss on his forehead. He cuddled into her chest. "I am not letting some evil man take you away again!" She looked up, tears in her shining eyes. "Thank you. I owe you the life of my only child. Both of you."
The Doctor smiled at her. "It's good to see you again. It's been centuries for me."
Donna blinked. "Is this like Professor River Song and skinny here? Are you a time traveler we're meeting out of order? I only know you as the man who's saved Jon."
Sand Shoes cleared his throat. "Donna, since your memories are entirely your own again, and you never got a proper explanation when I was shot by Daleks, there's something I need to tell you about Time Lords: when we're about to die, we have a chance to save ourselves by changing every single cell in our bodies. Every single one. We're like a brand new person afterwards: different body, different personality, sometimes even a different sex. Well, unless we pull a stupid stunt that ends up getting our best friend hurt. I am so, so sorry."
Donna's eyes gradually widened as Sand Shoes spoke, and they turned toward the Doctor. "You mean that's you?"
The Doctor smiled and spread his arms. "Yeah. What do you think? Is it an improvement?"
Next time:
The baby is not fine.
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