The console was sparking like mad as the Doctor and Molly dove into the TARDIS, the former slamming the door shut behind them. They scrambled to their feet, but before Molly could run for the console, the Doctor put both hands on her shoulders and stared intently into her eyes. "Did they see you?" he demanded.
Molly stammered, thrown off by the question. "I - I'm not sure - "
"Did they see you?!" he repeated more urgently. While she shrugged helplessly, his grip on her tightened. "Molly, it's important - did they see your face?"
More sure now, she shook her head. "No, not my face, I was running with my back to them the whole time."
Satisfied, the Doctor released her and bolted towards the console. "Off we go!" He threw the TARDIS into the Time Vortex, causing her to shudder and jerk about like never before. Molly had followed him to the console, and now she was forced to cling to it for dear life as the TARDIS careened through the vortex.
A warning alarm began sounding. The Doctor grabbed the monitor to read, then let out a growl of frustration. "They're following us."
"How?" Molly asked as she clung to the wildly shaking console. "I thought we were in the Vortex."
He gave a frustrated snarl as he smacked the console. "Stolen technology, they've got a Time Agent's vortex manipulator. They can follow us wherever we go, right across the universe – they're never going to stop."
The Time Lord ran an agitated hand through his hair, then paused, the flicker of an idea in his eyes. He seemed reluctant, but after a few moments he sighed. "Unless...I'll have to do it..."
He spun around with warning and grabbed both of Molly's hands. His brown gaze was unusually intense as he scanned her face. Urgently he asked, "Molly, you trust me don't you?"
Bewildered, she nevertheless replied with a sure, "Of course, why?"
"Because, Molly Hooper, it all depends on you." Without further explanation, he dove to grab something behind the console. Molly watched, baffled, as he re-emerged with a large, ornate pocket watch. "Take this watch," he told her solemnly, "'cause my life depends on it. The watch, Molly... the watch is..."
SCENEBREAK
The man woke with a start. For a moment, he struggled to remember where he was. Why couldn't he hear the familiar hum of an engine?
Then he shook his head to clear it. What was he talking about? Why would there be engines in his room? He sighed and sat up, blinking sleepily. Those dreams were really starting to mess with his head. What nonsense he seemed to dream about these days. Like the one he'd just had, with him and the girl he handed the fob watch. What ridiculous clothes they'd been wearing, and what a strange room. He just wished he could make sense of it.
Stifling a yawn, he reluctantly got up and dressed, with that dream still there in the back of his mind. Once he was dressed, there was a knock at his door. "Come in," he called out.
The door opened, and the girl from his dream stepped inside. Unlike the strange blue trousers and jacket from his dream, now she was dressed in a modest dark blue dress, with a light shawl and hair done up in a neat bun. He himself wore a white, puffy-sleeved buttoned shirt with a dark gray waistcoat and darker pants, and a tie.
The woman smiled as she closed the door behind her. "Good morning Mr. Smith," she greeted cheerfully. As always, she had the morning paper tucked under one arm. She was always reading.
He grinned back with equal cheer. "Good morning, Miss Molly," he greeted with mock formality.
Molly pulled out the morning paper, flipping to a page she'd dog-eared. "Nice column, I have to say," she complimented. "They were right enough to hire you at the paper."
John Smith chuckled as she handed him the paper so he could see. The date read March 2nd, 1865. "You say that every morning," he accused lightly.
"I mean it though," Molly insisted. "You've got the talent for writing, that's plain to see."
John shook his head with a sigh. "They hired me because there's hardly any men left to write," he reminded her.
Molly cheerful smile wavered for a moment. John knew she hated talking about the war. Normally he'd push a little more, but today a different thought was more prominent in his mind. "You know, I've been having these weird dreams lately.
The woman stiffened, dark eyes suddenly sharp with interest. "Really? What kind of dreams?"
He shrugged. "Nonsense really. Forget I said anything. Ignore the fantasy and stick to the facts. The lot of a reporter, eh?"
"At work, yes," Molly agreed, "but I'd love to hear about your dreams."
"Really?" he asked dubiously. Molly nodded eagerly. Encouraged, he headed over to his desk by the wall. He ruffled through a few drawers before pulling out a small, leather-bound notebook. "Here. I wrote down some of them in this." Molly took the book with a strange mix of excitement and anxiety, as if she wanted to know what was inside but was afraid of what it might mean.
"It's odd. I dream I'm this... character, I suppose, a doctor." Molly gave a slight start at the word, but didn't say anything as he continued, "He's quite the odd fellow, this Doctor. Always dashing about, never seems to stay still. I'm somewhere new every time."
Molly smiled, though something seemed off in the expression. "Well, you said you're a doctor. Maybe you're going around helping people?"
He shrugged. "Maybe. Sometimes it seems like he hurts more than he helps." The woman flinched at that, but quickly returned her attention to the notebook. She paused at a page depicting the blue box. "Ah, yes, that thing always seems to be there. It seems to be his portal to new worlds, a strange flying contraption."
She smiled almost fondly at the picture. "Does the box have a name?" she asked.
"Not that I've seen," he replied, somewhat puzzled at the question. "But what does a box need a name for?"
Molly ignored the question, flipping through the pages until she found something else that made her pause. She held up the book for John to see. "Who's this?" she asked curiously.
The sight of the face made him falter slightly, but he forced a smile back on his face as he replied, "She's this character I call Rose." Molly froze, comprehension and sympathy dawning in her eyes as she looked at the drawing of Rose. "She's been there a couple times, but she disappears later on. It's... it's strange. She seems almost familiar."
Molly shrugged. "Maybe she's someone you knew back home?"
John scoffed. "What, in England? That was ages ago. Why would I be dreaming about someone from there?"
"Maybe you miss her?" she suggested.
John's eyes narrowed. "I don't miss anything there," he insisted stiffly. "We're American now, Molly. Our loyalty should be here."
"I'm not saying it isn't," she protested. "I'm just saying she could be someone you met in London."
John shrugged. "Nah, she's just someone I made up." The conversation was taking an uncomfortable turn for him, and for a few moments there was an awkward silence.
Hesitantly, Molly asked, "John, are you alright?"
"Yeah," he lied. "Why wouldn't I be?" He began busying himself with the papers on his desk, trying to ignore Molly's knowing look.
"Come on, John. I know you. You never talk about stuff like this unless you have to. So what is it?"
John hesitated, then finally admitted, "You were there. Last night."
"Oh really?" Molly asked warily. "What was I saying?"
"I'm not sure," he told her distractedly, memories of the dream flashing in his mind. "I don't always remember words, it's more just flashes. Though I do remember... I was calling you Molly Hooper, not Molly Smith."
Understanding dawned on her face. "Is that what this is about?" She rolled her eyes. "John, it was just a dream."
He shrugged helplessly. "I don't think we know any Mr. Hoopers, but you never know," he defended himself.
Molly let out a patient sigh. "John, you know me. I'm not going to go running off with some guy any time soon. You don't need to worry."
John gave her a crooked grin. "Yeah, but what kind of a big brother would I be if I didn't worry about my little sister?" His younger sister just shook her head with a laugh, instantly making him feel better. Satisfied, he assured her, "I believe you, I just worry."
Molly just chuckled. "You know," she said as she took a seat on the bed across from his chair, "most brothers would be absolutely dying to get their thirty-plus year-old sister out and married."
"And most women aged thirty-plus years would be dying to get herself married," he countered playfully.
His sister rolled her eyes. "Yeah, and then I can be bossed around by a misogynistic Victorian man for the rest of my life. No thank you."
He shook his head with a laugh. "You have such a dim view of marriage, little sister."
"Well it's not like you're actively looking for someone," Molly defended herself.
John sobered at the words. "There's no point in looking for anyone," he said softly. "Not with everything that's going on. Not if I'm leaving soon."
"John," Molly interrupted sharply.
He rolled his eyes. "I know, I know, we've talked about this." It was a subject neither wanted to breach, because they'd quarreled so often about it. So he let it drop for now.
After a few awkward moments, Molly finally stood. "I'm heading out into town," she told him. "Mind if I borrow that book of yours? Just for a bit?"
"To take into town?" he asked with confusion.
"Just to keep it with me," she said with a roll of her eyes. "I know a nice place to sit and read."
He hesitated for a moment, protectiveness over the journal flashing through his mind. Mine. Mythoughtsmymemories. Medreamsareme.Then he shook his head, irritated with his irrational thoughts. "Sure, go ahead."
She reached down to grab it, then hesitated, unease flashing in her eyes. "Listen, John. Just... be careful who you tell about these dreams. It's fine here, but it's just going to sound like nonsense to anyone else. Ignore the fantasy and stick to the facts, right?"
John was surprised by the urgency in Molly's tone. "Sure, but they're just dreams, right? What does it matter?"
She hesitated, gaze searching and unusually intense, then sighed. "Right. Just dreams." She straightened, then headed for the door. "I'll see you later, alright?" Her voice was more friendly now, the tense moment forgotten.
He smiled. "See you." She closed the door behind her, leaving the man alone with his thoughts, trying to forget the dreams that seemed so strangely real.
SCENEBREAK
The "siblings" had rented out two rooms above a barber's shop in the small town of Allentown, Pennsylvania. Molly descended down the narrow staircase that led to the shop. The kindhearted barber, Mr. Sanders, and his wife greeted her cheerfully as she descended into the shop and headed out into the town. After a bit of necessary shopping, she followed the familiar pathway into the woods, following the twists and turns until she came across the small shack.
She smiled as she pushed open the door to reveal the familiar blue box. Molly pulled the TARDIS key from the necklace she kept hidden behind her dress collar, then turned the key in the lock and pushed the doors open. The familiar console room greeted her, the domed roof and metal rotor a relieving sight after having to spend days on end with a Doctor who had no clue who he really was.
Molly sighed, letting the tension roll off her shoulders. "Hello old girl," she greeted the ship warmly. The TARDIS gave no reply. The ship's lights were dimmed, and the time rotor was completely still. It was eerie how silent the ship had become since the change. Molly liked to tell herself that the TARDIS was asleep, keeping her owner's memories safe and sending them to him in dreams. "He dreams about you, girl," she told the ship, giving the console a familiar pat. "He's drawn you in this book of his. Doesn't remember what you're called though. That'd give him a bit of a shock, wouldn't it? Learning he's got a Time and Space machine waiting for him in the woods, just waiting for him to remember who he is." Talking to the ship, even in this slumbering state, made her feel better. The TARDIS was the only proof left that she hadn't dreamed those travels through time and space.
Her mind flashed back to that day two months ago, the last time she'd seen the Doctor as the Time Lord she'd met him as.
A warning alarm began sounding. The Doctor grabbed the monitor to read, then let out a growl of frustration. "They're following us."
"How?" Molly asked as she clung to the wildly shaking console. "I thought we were in the Vortex."
He gave a frustrated snarl as he smacked the console. "Stolen technology, they've got a Time Agent's vortex manipulator. They can follow us wherever we go, right across the universe- they're never going to stop."
The Time Lord ran an agitated hand through his hair, then paused, the flicker of an idea in his eyes. He seemed reluctant, but after a few moments he sighed. "Unless...I'll have to do it..."
He spun around with warning and grabbed both of Molly's hands. His brown gaze was unusually intense as he scanned her face. Urgently he asked, "Molly, you trust me don't you?"
Bewildered, she nevertheless replied with a sure, "Of course, why?"
"Because, Molly Hooper, it all depends on you." Without further explanation, he dove to grab something behind the console. Molly watched, baffled, as he re-emerged with a large, ornate pocket watch. "Take this watch," he told her solemnly, "'cause my life depends on it. The watch, Molly - the watch is me."
Molly stared at the watch, now completely lost. "Wait, what do you mean?"
"Those creatures are hunters," he told her quickly, "they can sniff out anyone – and me being a Time Lord, well, I'm unique. They can track me down across the whole of time and space."
His companion wrinkled her brow. "And what does this have to do with the watch?"
The Doctor explained, "They can smell me, they haven't seen me. And their life's bound to be running out – so, we hide, wait for them to die."
"How?" Molly asked.
The Time Lord hesitated, uncertainty flashing in his eyes for a moment, before his grip tightened on the watch. "That's why I've got to do it. I have to stop being a Time Lord. I'm gonna become human."
The statement had shocked Molly. She'd had no idea he could possibly do something like that. Even worse was the revelation that he'd have all of his memories rewritten, leaving her completely alone to protect someone not even aware they were in danger.
The Doctor connected the strange metal helmet to his head, a look of nervous anticipation on his face. "Never thought I'd use this. All the times I've wondered.."
"What is it?" Molly asked. She was getting truly confused at this point. How on Earth was the Doctor going to become human, and what did the watch have to do with it?
"Chameleon Arch. Re-write my biology. Literally changes every single cell in my body. I've set it to human. Now, the TARDIS will take care of everything. Invent a life story for me, find me a setting and integrate me. Can't do the same for you...you'll just have to improvise. I should have just enough residual awareness to let you in."
Molly thought about that uneasily. "Changing every cell in your body? Isn't that going to hurt?"
A strange look flashed in the Time Lord's eyes. "Oh yeah. It hurts."
Molly shuddered as she remembered the horrible sight of the Doctor's pain. That machine had sent him into terrible screams of agony as it rewrote every cell in his body. That was a memory she'd rather not relive, so instead she headed over to the monitor on the console. After tweaking a few controls, the monitor zapped to life, and the Doctor appeared on screen. It was so good to see him in the familiar brown pinstripe again, and to see the old eyes of a Time Lord, rather than the youthful face of John Smith.
"This working?" He tapped the screen experimentally before settling back in his chair. "Molly, before I change here's a list of instructions for when I'm human. One, don't let me hurt anyone. We can't have that, but you know what humans are like. Two, don't worry about the TARDIS, I'll put it on emergency power so they can't detect it, just let it hide away. Four- no, wait a minute, three. No getting involved in big historical events."
There was more to the video, but Molly paused it there, staring sadly at the screen. No getting involved in big historical events, the Doctor had told her. Don't let me hurt anyone. She sighed. "I'm trying. I'm really trying, Doctor," she said sadly, "but you're a stubborn human."
She pulled out the newspaper from earlier. One of the headlines read: "CIVIL WAR RAGES ON." The title sent chills up the pathologist's spine. The American Civil War was almost surely some sort of fixed point in time, but that wasn't even what concerned her. What happened if John signed up and got himself killed? As a human he wouldn't be nearly as strong or resilient as he was as a Time Lord. Or worse, what if he killed other humans? He had told her not to let him hurt anyone. He would never forgive himself if his human form resorted to murder. She wouldn't let him. She would not fail him like that. But try as she might, she couldn't see a way to stop him.
Except for that one, desperate last measure. The one she'd promised not to take unless there was no other choice. She fast forwarded through the rest of the video, finally letting it play near the end. " – and twenty three. If anything goes wrong, if they find us, Molly, then you know what to do. Open the watch. Everything I am is kept safe in there. Now, I've put a perception filter on it so the human me won't think anything of it, to him it's just a watch. But don't open it unless you have to. Because once it's open, then the Family will be able to find me. It's all down to you, Molly. Your choice. Oh – and thank you." With that, the video ended.
She sighed, leaning back as she considered her options. It had been two months since the change, and it had become increasingly clear that there was a serious problem. John Smith seemed determined to do his part in the war, and as a woman, even with a "brother" as understanding as John, she had little influence on that decision. But if she opened the watch, the Family of Blood would be able to find him. There had to be another way. She would just have to do her best to find it.
But if there was no other choice, she would open the watch.
What was that about you having to wait for another chapter? *sheepish grin* It's like I compulsively can't not work on this story. Something's wrong with me.
Anyway, as I said, this story takes a pretty different path from canon. The TARDIS chooses a different time period to dump John Smith in, and Molly becomes the Doctor's sister rather than his servant. That is meant to reflect their companion-Doctor relationship. The Doctor's like a protective older brother for her, and Molly is the sister that's steadily proving herself to her brother.
I've done a bit of research on the era, but I really couldn't find a lot of information on Civil War era journalists. Journalism yes, the actual writers no. So I have no idea how much they earn and what kind of conditions they lived in. So this here is mostly guesswork.
I hope you guys like the direction I'm taking this story.