Chapter 5 - Nightmares
They'd spent three hours so far treating the injured men. There were so many of them.
They'd had to prioritise them from the most severely injured to the least. They had started with missing limbs, worked their way to impalements, then bullet wounds, broken bones... and they were still going.
Rose had watched as the Doctor had reset bones, extracted bullets, dealt with mangled limbs and treated everyone as best he could with the limited supplies they had. He'd been teaching her along the way too, showing her how to treat each wound with the utmost care and consideration. He repeated things to make sure she understood, querying her every now and then, and asking her what he should do next. She was learning, bit by bit, how to help these poor men. Despite the fact that the Doctor had admitted to her that there were a few they may not survive until morning.
It wasn't just physical injuries, they had psychological trauma to deal with too. Several of the men appeared to be almost completely catatonic with fear. Now Rose had had a glimpse of what they were going through, she found it easier to get inside their heads and help them come to terms with what they'd seen.
However, the broken relationships between comrades that the Doctor had pointed out to her was painfully apparent. None of them seemed to care about each other - none of them had friends they asked after. All of them lived in constant fear of being trialled for cowardice just by lying there, even when they were so badly injured they could barely breath they still seemed to be considering it as cowardice. It was clearly every man for himself under a system glued together by pure fear.
52nd century, and war seemed to have gone completely backwards.
She and the Doctor kept going.
Number 59, the Doctor noted in his head as he and Rose reached the last soldier in line - the least injured soldier in the room despite the fact he'd received a very deep and bloody wound to his chest.
"Hello," the Doctor announced to the soldier as Rose helped the Time Lord down to sit beside the man, then took her place opposite. "What's your name?" the Doctor asked gently.
"S-Sol," the man replied.
"Nice to meet you, Sol, I'm the Doctor and this is Rose," the Doctor told him, pointing at each of them in turn. "We'll have you fixed up in a jiffy."
"Thanks," Sol breathed, blinking rapidly.
"So what do we do?" the Doctor shot at Rose, who was frowning.
"Flush the wound, checking for any debris in it?" she supposed.
He grinned and nodded encouragingly. "Then what?"
"Suture it with an interrupted stitch and cover it."
He nodded again. "Brilliant. Can you clean up the wound while I thread the needle?"
She nodded, dipping a cloth ripped from a bed-sheet into the little bucket they had filled with salt and water to make saline.
"What are you doing?" Sol asked, staring at the Doctor as he threaded the needle.
"This is a technique they used to use in the 21st century," the Doctor told him. "We haven't got any skin glue so we're a bit back to basics."
"Oh," Sol muttered.
"It works the same as skin glue except you'll look like a dress," the Doctor told him. "But don't worry, I've made a few dresses, my stitching is beautiful."
Sol managed a little smile. The Doctor grinned back as him as Rose pulled back, showing her work.
"Okay?" she asked.
"Perfect," the Doctor responded after a quick check, then looked at Sol. "This'll hurt a little bit," the Time Lord advised him. "We've got limited painkillers."
Sol just nodded. "Do what you need to do."
The Doctor leaned forward, and carefully began to suture the wound. With every action he explained to Rose what he was doing, and Sol kept obediently still. When the Doctor was finished, Rose covered the wound carefully and finally drew back.
"Okay?" the Doctor asked her.
She nodded. "We're savin' lives," she said, smiling.
He smiled in return. "We should get some sleep." He looked back to Sol. "Don't touch it, it might be a bit itchy but try to ignore it. Also you're my alert. If you see someone about to die you yell as loud as you can, okay? I'll come running. Well, limping. But fast."
Sol just frowned. "You're the one that came back for us," he muttered, gazing at him with deep, penetrating bright blue eyes.
"Yes, I did," the Doctor said.
"Why did you do that?" Sol asked, genuinely sounding puzzled.
"Why, shouldn't I have?" the Doctor wondered.
"Nobody goes back for other people."
"They do where I come from."
"You care about all these people. Why?"
"To be honest, Sol, it's strange that you're asking me that."
"What?"
The Doctor glanced at Rose. "Where I come from, comrades don't abandon each other."
"Why d'you just ditch other people?" Rose asked seriously.
"It's every man for himself," Sol told them. "It's just how it is."
"It's time to change that," the Doctor informed him. "How's your history?"
"What?"
"World War One in the 20th century, how much do you know?"
Sol's eyebrows lowered, confused. "Not much," he confessed.
"Let me tell you a story. During WW1 there was a ship, HMS Partridge. It left Lerwick in a convoy, destined for Norway. But they were spotted by German destroyers just off the coast of Norway. A firefight began, but soon the Partridge was losing. The Lieutenant Commander ordered everyone to evacuate the ship, but two Lieutenants, Walters and Gray, stayed behind at their posts and manning the torpedoes, to allow everyone else enough time to escape. Grey had been shot in the thigh and was put onto a life vessel, but the vessel overturned and he was left in the water, alongside Walters. Although Grey was injured he was the stronger swimmer, so he helped Walters to another life vessel, but there was only enough room for one. Grey insisted Walters should take the place. Then Grey swam away."
"Then what?" Sol asked, wide-eyed.
"By a twist of fate, Grey was actually the one who survived. He was picked up by an enemy German vessel, the one that had just been shooting at him, and was taken as a prisoner of war. But he made a friend later, one of the German soldiers on the enemy ship that had picked him up. They corresponded until they died. Grey died in 1979. He didn't like to wear his medal or talk about what happened."
Sol stared at him. "Is that true?"
"Oh yes," the Doctor assured him. "One of the many stories of friendship in war. It's a remarkable aspect of humanity. And… you appear to have all lost that."
Sol fell silent.
"Think about it," the Doctor advised him.
Sol nodded, still silent.
The Doctor turned to Rose, holding up his arms, inviting her to help him up. She did so, supporting him.
"Let's get some sleep," he told her.
Rose was fast asleep next to him, her nose twitching like a bunny rabbit. The Doctor was lying back, one arm behind his head as he stared at the ceiling, wondering how on Gallifrey he was going to escape on a broken leg.
He and Rose could sneak off during a mission, but that probably wouldn't work. They could distract the guards and sneak out of the base, but they wouldn't get far. They could fake their deaths, but that was a pretty stupid idea in itself.
He had no idea how to get out of this.
Clearly since the Universe hadn't imploded yet, this Jack was from the two years of memories he'd had erased. Just as well. Remembering this war? The Doctor wouldn't wish that on anyone, especially not Jack. The Jack that the Doctor knew, despite his philandering nature of course, was a good man with a strong heart. The Jack right here and now didn't even seem like a distant relation. Time Agents were notoriously ruthless and exceptionally dangerous, trained in torture, manipulation and lots of other lovely things that the Doctor didn't like very much. But he'd never imagined Jack had ever fallen victim to that.
However, here he was. Abandoning comrades and shooting before thinking.
Suddenly Rose made a noise next to him. He looked sidewards and saw her, brow furrowing, her fists clenching slightly as she began to twitch. He recognised it immediately. Nightmare.
He quickly pillowed her head with his hand and pulled his coat a little more over her.
"No, no, stop!" she garbled out. He brushed back her hair from her eyes, massaging her temple lightly for a moment as he closed his eyes, going inside her head briefly to see what she was seeing.
In her nightmare Rose was sitting in a deep, dark pit, and both her legs were missing and she was utterly paralysed, unable to move. Beside her was his own body, lying broken next to her.
A giant face loomed into vision at the opening to the pit. The person, whoever it was, began pouring fire down into the hole.
He heard Rose shriek outside the dream. He abruptly drew out of it and brushed back her hair again.
"Shush," he said gently in her ear. "It's okay. Just a nightmare."
Eventually she calmed down, turned over and fell still again. He adjusted his coat on her a second time, and took her hand, checking her dream state again. She wasn't dreaming anymore.
Being part of this gruesome war wasn't easy for her, and it was bringing back some bad memories for him. He wasn't even sleeping, not wanting to find out what his brain had in store for him when he closed his eyes. They had to go, preferably before they both went insane. She wasn't damaged too much yet, but he could see the Rose he knew slowly wilting away under all the limbs and blood.
She was strong, but not that strong.
"Sorry," he told her sleeping figure seriously in a whisper. "I'm sorry we're here."
Of course, she didn't reply. She kept sleeping, and he kept his hand in hers.
Suddenly the door flew up. The Doctor instinctively sat up and threw himself over Rose who had woken with a start, his actions purely by instinct before he realised who it was.
"Jack!? What are you…"
"You idiot!" Jack yelled, pointing a gun at him.
"What's goin' on?" Rose yelped from beneath the Time Lord.
"Your boyfriend led them right to us!" Jack shouted angrily, glaring at the Doctor.
"What!?" Rose cried, now gripping onto the Doctor's shoulders.
"Get up!" Jack finished and ran off.
"Doctor?" Rose pulled his head to face her. "What's he sayin'?"
"Exes are attacking the base, some must've followed me," the Doctor grated, trying to get up using the wall but failing miserably.
She grabbed him and hauled him to his feet, slinging his arm around her shoulder.
"Stay with me," he ordered her.
"Like I'm goin' anywhere!" she yelped, and helped him out of the medical office.
They were nearly thrown off their feet by a bomb hitting the base. The ceiling shifted slightly. The Doctor and Rose struggled to their lines of injured patients on the floor, where they finally stopped and the Doctor leaned on the wall, his brow furrowed with pain.
"Okay," he finally said, opening his eyes to look at them all. "Hands up who can walk!"
"If you've got no arms just nod enthusiastically," Jack inputted from the side, arriving next to Rose.
"Be quiet, that's not helpful," the Doctor almost snapped.
"You've really got a thing for pissing me off, haven't you?" Jack said incredulously, his eyes darkening.
The Doctor couldn't muster the willpower to care about him. "What's the plan, what are we doing?"
"Evacuating," Jack informed him. "Good time to have a gun."
He threw a gun to the Doctor faster than the Doctor could process what he was catching. He caught the gun as Jack ran off to the Exes trying to break through the ceiling, staring at it for a moment before deciding to throw it in the bin. It hit the rim, trembled for a moment, and then dropped into the bottom.
The Doctor looked at Rose, Registering her expression and direction of her gaze. "You just realised, didn't you?"
"Yeah," she muttered, still gazing at the now open and unguarded entrance area.
He hopped towards her, resting his hand on her shoulder. "We could escape," he said quietly. "In the chaos. Just slip away. What d'you think? Your call."
Rose didn't say anything for a moment, taking a moment to look around at the piles of bodies of the people they had treated last night. "... We can't," she muttered. "... We can't leave them."
The Doctor nodded. "Are you sure?"
Rose bit her lip, looking up at him. "These people will die without us."
"Yeah."
"We've gotta stay."
"Okay."
She rubbed at her eyes before taking a deep breath as the gunfire continued around them. "What d'you want me to do?"
He smiled briefly, dropping his arm from her shoulder. "Help the wounded get to the evacuation point."
Rose nodded, and ran off to do just that. They were nearly sent off their feet again with another blast. Dust streamed down from the rapidly breaking ceiling onto the Doctor's head.
He didn't fancy trying his luck with that again.
He went to the closest soldier first, hopping across the grating to get to him. They'd treated him for fractured ribs and a fractured arm yesterday.
"Hey Chris, it's your lucky day," the Doctor told him. "We're getting a new view."
"Is that so?" Chris asked, struggling to get up.
"Oh yes. Brand new type of concrete for you to stare at."
"Gee I can't wait," Chris muttered with mock enthusiasm.
The Doctor grinned. "Right, you help me and I'll help you," he said, nodding to his leg. "Take it slow."
"Yes, Lieutenant."
"None of the Lieutenant stuff. We're all equal," the Doctor told him as Chris put the Doctor's arm around his shoulder, wincing.
"Except the captain," Chris muttered.
"Yep…"
The entire place turned to dust just as the evacuation craft left. The Exes were still shooting at the craft but the pilot kept them safe, with exceptional piloting skills.
Soon they were clear, and flying straight. Everyone relaxed, at least until Jack came in from the cockpit where everyone immediately tensed again.
He walked straight up to the Doctor and Rose who were sitting on a bench.
"Ken, a word," he said, taking the Doctor's arm and pulling the Time Lord upright. He led him into the back room, closing the door behind them.
The Doctor got the distinct feeling that this wasn't going to be a commendation.
"You defied my orders in the operation," Jack said lowly, his eyes afire as he turned on the Time Lord. "You jeopardised the mission."
"Sorry…"
"You could've killed everyone."
"Just myself," the Doctor pointed out, somewhat redundantly.
"Shut up," Jack snapped.
"Sorry," the Doctor said again.
"Always have to have the last word don't you?" Jack grated.
"Not always."
Jack fumed and gripped his neck, pushing him against the wall. "How did you survive that?"
"B-bone headed, I suppose," the Doctor choked out.
Jack continued to gaze at him, unblinking. "Listen well and listen hard. The only reason you and your assistant are still alive is because we need medical and you do good work. Don't think I don't shoot my own side for insubordination. And you brought them all to us. But now things are changing. You never defy my orders again. I don't know how you got out of that ceiling collapse but I swear if you step out of line one more time you'd be wishing you did die. Clear?"
The Doctor didn't reply, just trying to take in breath.
"Clear!?" Jack yelled in his face, tightening his hold slightly.
"Yessir," the Doctor gasped out.
"Don't think I won't be watching your every move. One bit of suspicious behaviour and I'll shoot your girlfriend point blank in front of you before I shoot you. Now get back to work."
Jack finally let go of his neck, and left. The Doctor took in a few gasps of air as he massaged his neck, thoughts flying through his head. He then left, limping back to Rose.
"What happened?" she asked, holding his arm as her dropped down next to her, wincing badly at the pain in his leg.
"We should have left when we had the chance," he muttered to her.
"What?"
"He's onto us."
Rose stared at him, horrified. "How?"
"He knows something not right…"
"He'll kill us…" she realised.
"He isn't because we're useful. Don't defy his orders. Do what he says. Call him sir."
She bristled. "Oh god, this is real, isn't it?"
"I'm sorry," he said seriously. "We need to leave. I'll figure it out, just play the game for a while. If he catches us were dead."
"Okay," she muttered, and they immediately quietened as Jack walked past, not even looking at them.
The Doctor felt her hand slip into his. He obliging squeezed it.
Neither of them let go for the rest of the journey.