Author's Note: Finally earned myself a day off, tomorrow! I'm hoping to use it to rewrite "Something". Wish me luck!
Part II
.
Ben was working in the hospital, as usual, when he first encountered the strange man. The one with the pinstripe suit, who was waving around a little device with a black case and flashing lights. Maybe he was one of their newly admitted nutcases. Glory's work. Great. Ben hated mopping up after Glory's messes.
"Let me help you," Ben offered him, in a soothing voice. "Let's get you into bed, where you can relax."
The man looked up at him, and beamed. "Actually, rather think I can help you." The man tucked the device into his pocket, and bounced on the balls of his feet. "You wouldn't, by any chance, happen to have a wee bit of a problem with sometimes turning into a very angry, incredibly powerful woman, would you?"
Ben's mouth dropped open. "How… how do you…"
"I'm the Doctor," the man said, offering his hand. "And I think I've got the solution to your problem."
"You're not supposed to know," the medical intern — Ben, he'd said his name was — informed the Doctor, as they were walking around outside the hospital. "No one's supposed to know."
"But you know," the Doctor pointed out.
Ben gave a bitter laugh. "Yeah, because I wake up, sometimes, and find all these tortured or killed people around me, and I'm wearing a dress." He ran a hand through his hair. "I may look like just another human being, but you know what I really am."
"Course I do," said the Doctor. "You're Ben — sorry, what was your last name?"
"Wilkinson."
"You're Ben Wilkinson," the Doctor said. "Medical intern, human being. Completely unique, completely yourself, completely independent from your… somewhat violent alter-ego."
"I'm Glory," said Ben.
"No, you're not," the Doctor insisted. "You're Ben Wilkinson. You just happen to also be acting as a three-dimensional compression field for a twelfth-dimensional being."
"Her prison," said Ben. "A mortal prison for a deposed Hell Goddess."
"Blimey, she's done a number on you, hasn't she?" the Doctor muttered. He took the sonic out of his pocket, and began scanning Ben with it. "Look, really, it's quite simple. She's a multi-dimensional being, who's being squeezed down into three dimensions using a compression field comprised of your genetic makeup. Which, although it's terribly clever, also has the unfortunate side effect of driving the compressed entity completely barmy."
"I've noticed," said Ben.
The Doctor checked the readings on the sonic. "Still, compression field like this should be indestructible," he said, raising an eyebrow. "Impenetrable. Which is clearly not the case. Seeing as she's been somehow managing to seep through the cracks. Breaks in the seventh dimension, at a guess. Bit of leakage going on in there."
"You said that you could help me," Ben pointed out.
"Ah, yes," said the Doctor, putting his sonic back into his pocket. "I can. See, if I'm right — and I usually am — I'm guessing whoever built this compression field into your body built it in rather a hurry. Shoddy workmanship, that sort of thing. If I just fix the compression field, tighten up that seventh dimensional weak spot, you'll have full control, she'll be put back in her place, and all will be well." He grimaced. "Rather a nasty end for her, of course. But, well, she did have her chance."
"You can do that?" Ben asked. He took the Doctor by the shoulders. "Please, don't give me false hope. Can you really make sure I'm always myself?"
"Absolutely!" the Doctor said. Then hesitated. "Well, I say absolutely. Possibly. Well, I say possibly…"
Ben's face fell, and he let go of the Doctor. "I see."
"The process itself is rather trivial," the Doctor explained. "Least, for a brain as brilliant as mine. But I've begun to notice that every time I intervene directly in this affair, the universe nearly falls apart. And as I'm very keen to make sure the universe continues to exist, I'd rather not get involved."
"So you can help me," said Ben. "You just won't." He looked down at the ground. "Thanks. Thanks for letting me know that you can fix my problem, you're just choosing not to."
"Never said that," the Doctor replied. He gave Ben a grin. "Said that I couldn't intervene directly. Never said I couldn't help. Just a matter of finding the right people and getting them to fix this, instead."
"As far as I can tell, you're the only human that can understand what's actually going on," said Ben. "If you don't help me, no one else will."
"Ah, actually…" the Doctor trailed off, deciding that, what with Ben's previous associations with non-terrestrial life, telling Ben that he wasn't human would not be his smartest move. "…I'm quite good at doing the impossible. Bit of a genius, I am."
Ben scoffed.
"Ben Wilkinson," the Doctor said, "I promise. I'll fix this. I'll make sure she never bothers you again."
Ben froze. Then a horrified look spread across his face. "She's coming."
Oh, dear. That was bad. There must be enough of a break in the compression field that Glory could sense certain things from the outside world.
"How much does she know?" the Doctor asked. "How much has she heard?"
"None of it!" said Ben. "She just… knows she has to come out. She always knows." His face contorted, as if in pain.
"Fight her," the Doctor urged. "The human mind is strong! Fight her for control!"
"Get out of here!" Ben said. "If you're around when she emerges, she'll kill you! She kills anyone who doesn't bend to her will!"
"You can reassert control!" the Doctor urged him. "You can get your own mind back, Ben. Just fight! Push back! Hold her at bay!"
"I… I… can't…"
Ben's face suddenly morphed, his hair growing long, his lips growing fuller, his entire body turning feminine, curved, elegant. When he opened his eyes, now gray and cold, he wasn't Ben anymore.
"You again!" Glory shouted.
Oh, dear. Probably should have run for it when he had the chance.
"Yes, hello!" the Doctor chirped. "Terribly nice to see you again. Must dash!" He turned, and sprinted away.
Glory caught him in two strides, and grabbed him by the shoulders, lifting him up off the ground. "Not so fast!" She glared at him, with evil, angry eyes. "You were talking to Ben, right? So… what did you want with him?"
The Doctor raised an eyebrow at her. "I think you already know."
Glory's face burned with rage, and she threw him against the outer wall of the hospital. But the Doctor wasn't restrained, this time. He could slow his own momentum, use his surroundings to his advantage. He hooked his foot around a lamppost, redirecting the momentum and trying to roll back to his feet but instead toppling sideways to the ground. But with a whole lot less force than he should have, which was good.
"I gave you a choice," the Doctor told Glory, getting back to his feet. "Told you. No second chances."
"I am so sick of all these stupid little mortals running around pretending they can defeat me!" Glory said, rolling her eyes. "You think you're so high and mighty just because you're a Time Lord?"
She lunged out at the Doctor, again, which the Doctor knew was his cue to run. He got nearly to the end of the block, when he found himself suddenly jumped on by a group of troll-like minions, who managed to wrestle him to the ground.
Glory came over to the Doctor. "Bet you weren't expecting my little munchkins, huh?"
"You should treat them with more respect," the Doctor said, as the minions maneuvered him into a sitting position. "They're living beings, just like you. They have their own hopes, their own dreams, their own aspirations—"
"Oh, shut up!" Glory groaned. "You are so boring! Take the hint, Oncoming Snore. They're called 'Minions'. They only exist to serve me and love me. And why shouldn't they? I'm their goddess, after all."
"Too bad you're no one else's," the Doctor said.
Glory kicked him in the face. She looked like she was about to do it again, when she paused, amusement spreading across her lips. "Hey, I just got an idea," she said, squatting down in front of him. "I'm betting you came here to have a little talk with Ben about fixing that prison I'm being kept in. Making sure I get stuck in it again, right?"
The Doctor didn't bother to answer. She knew the answer already.
"Well, it occurs to me that if you can fix Ben over there," Glory continued, "you can also fix me. Get me out of this human prison of mine, kill Ben off completely, and restore me to my real powers. Can't you?"
The Doctor remained silent.
"And when you're all done with that," said Glory, "we can have a little heart to heart about you telling me where my Key is, yeah?" She reached out and scrunched up his hair, like he was a little doggy. "Like a good boy."
"Do you know what would happen," the Doctor told her, "if you ever used something like the Key?"
"I've got a pretty good idea," said Glory. "Universe collapsing, Hell coming to Earth, possibly your entire reality burning to cinders. Not that it'll matter to me, anyways, when I get home. That stupid Slayer bimbo will probably stop the process before it absorbs my reality, and I'll be safe and sound while the rest of your universe burns."
"If you tear down the walls you need to get back to your home," the Doctor said, "you will destroy everything. Not just this universe, not just your own, but everything. All of time and space."
"Yeah? Well, protecting time and space is your thing," said Glory. "I'm more about the death and destruction. Now… are you going to do what I say, or do we have to start getting nasty, again?"
"If you do what you're planning," said the Doctor, slow enough that she could understand it, "you will die."
Glory laughed. "Hun, I'm immortal," she said. "I don't die."
"You're not, and you will."
"No," said Glory. She pointed at herself. "Me, Hell Goddess. Immortal. All powerful. Eternal." She pointed at the Doctor. "You, Time Lord. Silly little insignificant speck of dust upon the universe. Mortal. Highly killable. We got that? Good."
The Doctor quirked an eyebrow at her. "You're not a goddess, Glory."
Her mirth died away, and she struck him across the face, her anger flushing through her. "I am a goddess! I am she who cannot be named! The Abomination! The Meyomelae Krvas! Entire galaxies tremble at the legend that is—"
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," said the Doctor. "I've heard the legends. I've heard the stories. And I've also met your sort before. Twelfth dimensional beings? Before the war, used to run into them all the time. You lot may have a truly astounding influence over reality and the universe, but you're hardly gods."
"Your own people once called themselves gods," Glory said. "And they were nothing next to me."
"And look where it got them in the end," said the Doctor. "Look where it got you."
Glory grabbed the Doctor by his tie, choking him, her eyes blazing. She then gave him a very cruel smile. "You know, all these warnings about what my Key could do just confirm what I already thought," Glory said. "You were lying. You didn't destroy my Key; you're just protecting it."
Oh, bugger.
"Tell you what," Glory continued, loosening her grip on his tie and tapping the tip of his nose. "Let's make this a party. I go find your little red headed friend, and then you can see just how much you want to cooperate. You got that?"
"I destroyed the Key," said the Doctor. "You can do whatever you want. Nothing will bring it back."
Glory grabbed one of the Doctor's fingers, bending it backwards until it snapped. He hissed, the pain flaring through him as he tried to divert the blood flow and numb that area of his body.
Glory shushed him, wiping some hair out of his face. "Oh, hun, it'll be okay," she said, with false sympathy in her voice. "You just gotta learn to stop being stubborn and do what I want, and I promise, I'll make the hurting stop."
The Doctor tried to break free, but Glory caught the motion and draped an arm across his back, hugging him closer to her, keeping him in place.
"That what you tell them, too?" the Doctor asked, nodding back at the minions.
Glory grabbed another one of his fingers, and bent it backwards.
"All right!" the Doctor said, before she could snap it. "All right! I give in, I'll help you."
Glory gave a grin, and dropped his hand. "That's more like it."
"Well, always happy to help," the Doctor said, with a smile. "Now, what's it to be? Destroying the compression field, then?"
"That'll do for a start," said Glory. "And then we can talk about my Key." She nodded at her minions. "Take him."
"I really, really hate it when he does this," said Buffy, running down the street with Donna in tow. "He just runs off into mortal danger, like he's completely invincible, and… Dawn, what are you doing?"
"I'm helping!" said Dawn, running after them, a bottle of vinegar under her arm.
Buffy stopped, and gave Dawn a demanding glare. "Go home."
Dawn stomped her foot. "No!"
"Dawn!"
"Make me!"
"Oi!" Donna interrupted. "You two! Quit the sibling rivalry and get moving on the Slayer-skills. We've got a Spaceman to rescue, here!"
"Yeah," said Dawn to Buffy, pointedly. "I thought you always knew where the Doctor was, anyways. Because of that thing in your head."
"No," said Buffy, "that just tells me if he's around. It doesn't tell me where he is. And… why do you have a bottle of vinegar, anyways? This isn't a cookout!"
"Yeah, well, when you go up against a Slitheen, then you'll wish you brought vinegar, too!" said Dawn.
Buffy gave her sister a pointed look. "Slitheen? How long did it take you to make that one up?"
"It's a real thing!" Dawn insisted. "They're yucky monsters who're overweight with zippers on their foreheads."
Buffy just continued giving her sister the same pointed look.
"At least I'm not the one who spent a whole summer making up monsters just so I could make kissy faces at an alien!" Dawn retorted.
A look of complete and utter annoyance washed across Buffy's face, and she charged forwards. "All right, that's it," she said. She grabbed Dawn by the arm, and began dragging her down the sidewalk. "You're going home. Right now."
"That's not fair!" Dawn said. "The Doctor told me I could come help!"
"Yes, but I'm your sister, and he's not," said Buffy. "So you do what I say."
Donna just watched the two of them bickering, as Buffy dragged her sister back into the house. Yep, this was a pretty typical day in Sunnydale.
Author's Note: Okay, the last section of Part II is one of my favorite things ever. I wrote it, at first, only for pacing issues, but... when I put Dawn racing down the street with a bottle of vinegar under her arm... it was just too good! That has to be one of the all-time best things ever!
