"WE NEED A BANDAID, STAT!" yelled Truman as he scrambled around the metal corridor searching in vain for the adhesive strip that could save the Doctor's life.
"Oh, piss off, Truman. It's a cut, that's all," Windsor blew off, smacking the whirling dervish that was Truman in the back of the head. The Doctor smirked.
"Not a fan of blood, eh Truman?" he teased, sucking his wound with a manic glee. "No worries, we'll rid you of that fear in no time! Lots worse to fear in the universe! Stone angels that'll displace you in the blink of an eye, salt and pepper shakers with disintegration beams, living mannequin dolls, you name it!" The Doctor pressed onward, forcing Truman to overcome his once overwhelming fear of blood in order to fight his encroaching fear of being left alone in an alien hallway. They twisted and turned around corridors, facing the endless labyrinth of cold steel walls until they came upon a familiar broken panel.
"Well we seem to have gotten turned around," the Doctor noted, pacing from wall to wall to figure out the next plan of attack. Truman was tired, and decided to lean against the wall to rest.
Windsor was nowhere to be found.
"Where has the Duke gone off to?" asked the Doctor, spinning around in circles in search of their lost companion. The halls were silent, giving them no hint at where the brain surgeon had popped off to.
"I could have sworn he was right behind me." Truman began calling out his name, only to be silenced by the Doctor.
"Not too loudly. We never know what prying ears may be listening in," he explained in a sinister whisper, sending goosebumps down Truman's spine. Suddenly Windsor came running around the corner sporting a bloodied cricket bat.
"Where the hell have you two been? I must have been lost for weeks! I ran into thousands of them in this giant library, they were all attacking me, but I fended them off," Windsor said proudly, hoping to earn merit from the Doctor or Truman.
Instead the Doctor pinned him against the wall.
"We NEVER resort to violence!" he yelled, tossing Windsor's cricket bat to the ground. "Those were innocent people who had no control over their bodies, not a score tally in Grand Theft Auto."
"It was me or them, Doctor," Windsor spat, refusing to back down or apologize. "Next time well try the pacifist way and see where that gets us."
"Um, guys?" Truman interjected, looking worried.
They ignored him.
"You could have killed them! Innocents bludgeoned to death by a cricket bat!"
"You think I don't know about senseless deaths? I've failed to save more people on the operating table than you can ever imagine. I live with those deaths every day. I know what needs to be done, and I'm going to do it."
"Guys…"
"You want to talk about deaths? I've condemned entire races, planets full of people from my mistakes. You think your load is great? Think again!"
"GUYS!" yelled Truman, finally grabbing their attention. They looked up, and saw that they were completely surrounded by Ideo-controlled people.
"Well, Doctor," Windsor said quietly. "Looks like we get to do this the peaceful way like you wanted."
They found themselves in a vast room styled as a 19th century library filled to the brim with leather bound volumes and comfortable chairs. In the middle of the room stood Ralph Ganger, who gestured around him as his captives were brought before him and tied into the comfortable chairs.
Truman was especially thankful for the comfy chairs, as he was about ready to pass out.
"Who ties people up anymore?" the Doctor asked aloud as if genuinely curious about the question.
"Welcome, Doctor and friends, to the Master Library. We have been waiting for you to try and break your way into this facility," Ganger bellowed.
"I'm just going to take a shot in the dark and say you're the head Ideo?" the Doctor ventured, looking calmer Truman noticed, than he had when arguing with Windsor. He actually seemed jovial when talking to the leader!
"You are correct, Doctor. But there is someone much higher than us in charge here. He has enlightened us to a new way of thinking, to expanding our minds to accomplish what we never could have dreamed of."
"OK, boys," the Doctor whispered under his breath to Truman and Windsor. "We need a plan of attack. If we can generate enough noise we may be able to distract the Ideos enough for the humans inside to regain control and expel them from their bodies. Downside is it could potentially kill them, so start thinking of other options." The group looked back up at Ganger, who had turned abruptly and bowed towards the opening door. A lone Dalek rolled into view, causing the Doctor to seize up.
"Hello, Doctor," the Dalek warbled. The synthesized voice sent shivers down Truman's spine. He looked over at the frozen Doctor, realizing the Doctor recognized the giant pepper shaker. It doesn't seem that intimidating, Truman thought.
So why does the Doctor seem so alarmed?
"But how?" the Doctor stammered. "How are you here? You were gone, I made sure of it!" Anger seeped back into his voice, and Truman began to understand that the Doctor must have a history with this robot.
"Daleks are a supreme race able to withstand anything," the Dalek stated. "Your trap could not hold all of us for long, Doctor."
"Doctor, we need a plan," Windsor said, looking worriedly around the room at the Ideos. The Doctor shook his head, snapped out of the trance of seeing his old adversaries alive again.
"Um, right you are Windsor," he muttered, his face still registering shock. "Did you think of anything?"
"I rather liked your first plan since it involved incapacitating basically everyone in the room except us," Windsor coldly stated. Truman looked at him in shock.
"The Doctor said it might kill everyone!"
"Risk versus reward, Truman," replied Windsor, who tapped his leg impatiently. "Listen Doctor, I'll bet that sonic device of yours could create that amount of noise needed."
"Windsor, I can't possibly do that to these people," the Doctor said, although Truman noticed something in his eyes that said he was starting to agree with Windsor.
"What other alternative do we have?"
"How about NOT KILLING EVERYONE?" Truman yelled, causing the library to fall silent and the trio to remember that they were, in fact, still hostages.
"Escape is useless!" the Dalek noted. "We have planned for every possible outcome!" Windsor looked at the Doctor.
"Look, if you don't want to be the one to do it, I will." The Doctor stared at him, contemplating his words with the utmost care as Truman frantically gyrated his disapproval.
With a deft hand the Doctor shimmied the sonic out of his pocket and tossed it to Windsor. "Psychic interface, point and think," the Doctor breathed, his features looking dead.
"Account for this, tin can," Windsor yelled as he pointed the sonic upward and powered it on.
Truman was bombarded with a harsh noise, causing him to reactively reach for his ears only to remember that he was tied up. He looked around him in his pain and saw the Ideos violently shaking as they clutched their heads in agony. Screams of pain filled the library as they all fell to the floor.
Windsor jumped up from his chair, having freed himself from his ropes and untied his other two captives. The noise stopped, and Truman regained enough equilibrium to properly look around. Bodies littered the floor unmoving. He ran up to the nearest one, Stewart, and checked for any signs of life.
Much to his chagrin, Stewart was breathing.
Truman let loose a sigh of relief that the plan had worked without fatalities (even if his annoying supervisor survived) and joined the Doctor and Windsor in their triumphant pose as they regarded the Dalek.
"Retreat! Retreat! Activate emergency temporal shift!" the Dalek scrambled, activating the emergency temporal shift to retreat. Windsor ran after him, only to be stopped by the Doctor.
"Let him go. Small fish, Duke of Windsor," he said.
Truman waited until they were in the TARDIS and the building was back in its proper place before he laid into them.
"WHAT THE BLOODY HELL WERE THE TWO OF YOU THINKING?" Truman roared, taking Windsor and the Doctor by surprise. "You could have killed everyone! What happened to not resorting to violence? Where's that moral code you were preaching about earlier?"
The Doctor looked forlornly around the room.
"Truman, you have to understand that sometimes…"
"Bull, Doctor. That is bull and you know it! Don't try to justify placing this whole building at risk just for us to escape. I know you're better than that. We didn't even find out what they came there for in the first place," Truman stared down the Doctor, who relented.
"You're absolutely right, Truman. In the past I've had companions that have stopped me from any rash decisions, kept me checked and balanced. Lately I've been travelling alone and have lost sight of that restraint. I need someone to tell me when to stop. I'm hoping you can fill that void, Truman." The Doctor reached towards Truman, offering him his hand to shake. After what seemed like ages Truman shook it, and found a key in his palm.
"What about me, Doctor?" Windsor asked, tapping impatiently on the dash of the TARDIS.
"First off stop that tapping, its rather annoying." Windsor complied. "Thanks. Now, I will let you come along too, but only if you never EVER use violent means to get your way again. Got that?" Windsor nodded, and the Doctor tossed him his own key. The Doctor began to smile.
"Now, a few ground rules before we take off. Rule one: don't wander off. I've had many different first rules throughout my incarnations but this one seems to apply best to you two. Next rule: when I say run, you run. We're going to be doing a lot of running on our journey so Truman, you'll have to hit the gym. It's the third door down past the billiard room." The Doctor continued, ignoring Truman's confused looks. As the Doctor continued listing his rules, he thought back to the last time he had a companion, the terrible fate that befell upon her, and promised himself he wouldn't let it happen again.
Truman, after recovering from his confusion, grew excited as the Doctor continued speaking. Now was his chance to travel to faraway lands and actually do something with his life. He thought to his mother, who no doubt was fixing up dinner for his father and younger brother at the moment, and wondered if she would approve of it. He knew his younger brother Danny would be absolutely thrilled for him, and would want to come along. His father, well, his father would probably just grunt and continue reading his paper.
He pushed that thought from his mind. He had the beginning of the rest of his life ahead of him with the Doctor, and he wasn't going to let anything or anyone spoil it.
Windsor resumed his tapping unconsciously as he listened to the Doctor's rules.
Hell, this beat working the late shift at the hospital.