The Doctor and his companions walked through the darkened areas of London. These were areas that many not paid much attention to. It was because of this that these areas of London had looked like remnants of the past. It was the perfect spot for the Plague Doctor to hide in to avoid the lighted Downtown London. Clara looked around the top of the buildings; she expected the ravens to be somewhere. So far they hadn't encountered any ravens and that became worrisome, as it either meant the Plague Doctor was not present in that area or universe, or that he was aware of their presence or pulled back the ravens. Sherlock kept looking at the entrances of the alleys, expecting the Plague Doctor to be in one of them, but he hadn't seen him. John looked behind; he only prayed that the Plague Doctor wasn't behind them. He expected the Plague Doctor to be there the moment he looked behind; it was something that John always considered when it came to something like this. The Doctor kept looking forward, his earpiece was on and he was quietly listening, he hoped he could pick up on the Plague Doctor before he could pick on them.
John uneasily tapped on Sherlock's shoulder and Sherlock glanced at him. John sighed, "Why are we doing this?"
"Do we have any choice?" Sherlock shrugged. John shook his head. "Sherlock, this is beyond anything we have ever done, this makes the Morarity cases look sane," he said. Sherlock sighed. "I know John; this entire case has been one huge ride. A pity no case will ever top this," Sherlock rubbed his brow. John balked. "Sherlock, this entire case is convoluted, absolutely convoluted. It has everything in a bloody science fiction novel. We have an alien time traveler, a human assistant, a military organization, and Revenant," John summed. Sherlock stared, "Revenant?"
"Yeah, that's his name—will be his name once I can go home and type it up," John explained. Sherlock stared, "You're writing about this?"
"I was going to keep it a secret but I suppose there's no point, you'd find out about it one way or another," John shrugged. Sherlock crossed his arms. "What if I didn't?" he questioned. John cackled, as if Sherlock had made a joke. "The day you don't find out about something is the day the world ends," John pointed. Sherlock rubbed his chin, pondering. "I'd be careful, if the Doctor is real, who's to say the world wouldn't?" he wondered. John shirked. "I'm retracting that," John was quick to say. Sherlock chuckled.
It felt like hours since they embarked on the hunt for the Plague Doctor. The Doctor continuously stopped and tilted his head, hoping to hear something on the earpiece. Clara looked at the Doctor, "What are we going to do after we talk to him, Doctor?"
The Doctor turned his head to her, "What do you mean?"
"I mean, are we going to let him on his way or what?" Clara gestured. The Doctor sighed, "I don't know. Depends on how he responds I suppose."
"You're not going to kill him are you?" Clara worried. The Doctor shook his head, "I won't kill him unless he tries to kill us. Which is unlikely, I think he might be in a talkative mood."
"How would you know?" John asked him. The Doctor shrugged, "He hadn't come after us had he?"
"Doesn't mean that he'd be up for a quick chat about what the hell is going on," John responded. Sherlock sighed, "Couldn't hurt to the try nevertheless."
"Besides, the Doctor is right, he hasn't come after us," Clara agreed. The Doctor nodded, "We'll be fine. I'm sure of."
"Well, I suppose so, at least UNIT is keeping an eye on things," John rubbed his forehead.
They combed the area, but nothing they found indicated that the Plague Doctor was in the vicinity. There were no ravens and it didn't look like they were around either. If the ravens were hidden, they were good at it; neither the Doctor nor the others could spot a raven. It became concerning, John was sure the Plague Doctor gone back to Sherwood, but the Doctor assured him that the Plague Doctor was still in London, somewhere.
Clara checked the time to see it was nearly three. The Doctor gritted his teeth, "Where is he?"
"Maybe he did go back to Sherwood?" Sherlock rubbed his eyes. The Doctor shook his head, "Would've set off an alarm at UNIT. I don't understand."
"What if he's in hiding?" John asked. The Doctor sighed, "I don't know. I can bloody believe it; I'm already missing the ravens."
"If he's somewhere, then where could've he gone?" Clara pondered. Sherlock raised a finger, "What if he is at the shoreline? Grissom found beetles there, yeah?"
"Maybe," the Doctor rubbed his chin. Clara cleared her throat, "It couldn't hurt to try."
"Why would he be at the shoreline?" John asked them. "Grissom found beetles in the carcasses of fish," Sherlock explained. The Doctor nodded, "And maybe he gone to feed the ravens."
The Doctor and his companions traversed through the back alleys, through the dimmer areas of London, until they spotted the shoreline of the canal from a distance. They all narrowed their eyes as they scanned the area, they didn't hear the ravens, nor did they see a shape. As they neared, they began to see black specks soaring through the skies, some dove into the water. The black specks rose from the water and flew over the sand, as they passed over the sand, sounds of thudding emitted. "That explains the carcasses," Sherlock whispered to the Doctor. The Doctor nodded. "Who knew the ravens get hungry," John commented. Clara looked up and quickly gestured for everyone to kneel down close to the ground. Overhead, ravens flew over them, disappearing in the distance. When the ravens were gone, the Doctor and his companions stood up and cautiously neared the shoreline. Faintly in the distant there was a dark shape near the waters, standing quietly as black specks flew around it. The Doctor touched the earpiece slightly, affirming that it was still working, and ordered the others to remain as he did the unthinkable. The Doctor approached at a slow pace toward the Plague Doctor, keeping his head held up and his arms at his side as he walked. The ravens instantly took notice of his appearance and begun to caw at him.
Several glared at him as he calmly passed them, neither attempted to peck at him nor tried to gouge his eyes out. The ravens closest to the Plague Doctor begun to stare at the Doctor, but the Plague Doctor merely stared at the water, seemingly oblivious to the Doctor's presence. The Doctor carefully walked over the half-eaten fish that somewhat moved, already festered with beetles. As he touched the earpiece, the Doctor heard only static, it either meant the earpiece wasn't working or something was wrong.
He nearly jumped when the Plague Doctor turned around to face him; he held a raven on his hand, petting it lovingly. The raven in the Plague Doctor's hand cawed at the Doctor, but it quieted when the Plague Doctor touched it's head and it flew off to join the others perching on the lampposts. The Plague Doctor merely stared at the Doctor, not moving an inch; it looked as if he was waiting for the Doctor to do something. The Doctor cleared his throat and begun to speak with the Plague Doctor.
"Who are you?" asked the Doctor as he stared at the Plague Doctor. The Plague Doctor merely stared at him. When he spoke, his voice was hollow, gritty, and downright metallic. "Who are we, really? We lie to ourselves and to others alike, neither us so close to our former," the Plague Doctor simply replied. The Doctor stopped, "I never lied."
"We all lie, even you," the Plague Doctor pointed out. The Doctor crossed his arms, "Suppose I do, but I never lie without reason."
"An honest response—an anomaly in my time," the Plague Doctor watched him uncross his arms. He saw three others standing in the distant, two he was familiar with from what he picked up from the homeless in Sherwood and the assistant. The Plague Doctor returned his attention to the Doctor as he cleared his throat. "So, what is your name?" the Doctor asked him. The Plague Doctor gave a heavy sigh, metallic thumping came from inside the mask. "They gave me many names neither the same nor exact, always at random always at a whim. Never have I been asked myself. Proclaim your own," the Plague Doctor sighs.
The Doctor cleared his throat. "I am the Doctor," he introduced himself. The Plague Doctor gave a slight nod. "You had him throw down that stunner," the Plague Doctor mentioned wearily as he glimpsed to Sherlock who merely stared back. The Doctor shirked in his spot. "Right, I'm sorry about that, we were afraid of what you might've done," the Doctor apologized. The Plague Doctor scoffed, it sounded as if something smacked against a metal wall. "I am not a murderer, Doctor," he vehemently responded. The Doctor nodded. "Right, I'm sorry, it's just that it's been a very long day, indeed," he coughed.
"Are you here to kill me too, Doctor?" the Plague Doctor asked him. The Doctor shook his head, "I'm not here to kill you. I'm here to talk to you."
"No one wants to hear from a condemned man, Doctor. Time has told me this," the Plague Doctor lamented. The Doctor crossed his arms and tilted his head. "What if someone wants to hear?" he asked him. The Plague Doctor chuckled, his chuckle metallic and grinding. "Then they have too much time on their hands," he replied. The Doctor cleared his throat and ran a hand through his hair. He then said to the Plague Doctor, "We knew you killed a Patrolman."
"Found out about Walker, have you?" the Plague Doctor tilted his head left. The Doctor uncrossed his arms. He nodded, "Yes, we knew he kidnapped you."
"He kidnapped others before me, but they… did not…" the Plague Doctor trailed, turning his head away from the Doctor. The Doctor saw his silver eyes, although they didn't move they seemed to gleam with emotions. "He had taken us and was rewarded for the deeds, we were not so fortunate," he heard the Plague Doctor say. The Doctor stared. He responded, "Bring justice to them then, tell me about the Corporation."
The Plague Doctor turned his head back to the Doctor. The Doctor scorned, "What is it? Why is it doing this to people?"
"The Evil desired us—for it used us to become weapons of war. It matters not what became of us. As long as we existed, they had no reason to fathom," the Plague Doctor replied. "It is great evil which corrupts all who enter it, even the noble of men are not safe from it."
"Where is it, tell me, please," the Doctor pleaded. The Plague Doctor sighed and it looked he was thinking. He nodded and replied, "It is where life goes when it die. In depths that no one will ever find them. Where the light cannot be seen and darkness reigns supreme. Darkness will not allow the light to be brought to it."
The Doctor tried to understand what he was told. He chewed on his lip as he tried to figure out the cryptic response he mustered thoughts and they weren't of any help. He then decided to ask about Sofia Lamb—if she was where the Corporation was then it would help him find it easier.
"Do you know where Sofia Lamb is?"
"The She-Devil is in those depths, with the Evil."
"Was she involved with what happened to you?"
"Yes. She made us all like this. It mattered not who we were."
The Doctor gritted his teeth. "Why did she do all this?" he questioned. The Plague Doctor turned his head. "She wanted to create soldiers who would rival the Cybermen. No matter our visage, our faces, our former lives, we would've served as her army," the Doctor heard him say. The Doctor rubbed his chin, "She's no different than the Cybermen!"
"The Cybermen delete, she did nothing of the sort," the Plague Doctor corrected him. The Doctor stopped. "You remember life before this?" the Doctor asked. The Plague Doctor turned away from him.
The others wearily joined the Doctor's side as he continued to stare at the Plague Doctor. The Plague Doctor turned back to see them standing behind the Doctor. One of them, Sherlock, began to ask him his own questions. "Why were you in our universe?" Sherlock asked the Plague Doctor. The Plague Doctor seemingly looked into his eyes and replied. "I was lost," he said. Sherlock tilted his head, "Lost?"
"I was looking for a way home," the Plague Doctor elaborated. Sherlock nodded, "Where do you come from?"
"Neither this universe nor yours," the Plague Doctor only responded. Sherlock stopped. "You're not from either?" he asked. The Plague Doctor gave a slight nod. Clara cleared her throat. The Plague Doctor turned his head to her. Clara asked him, "Do you know what universe you're from?"
"No," she heard him say. "How do you even move between universes in the first place?" Sherlock questioned. The Plague Doctor turned to him. "We were outfitted with… technology that allows us passage between worlds. It matters not," he told him. Sherlock tilted his head, "How many of you exist?"
The Plague Doctor turned his head. "I am… the only one left," he replied. Clara stared, "You are the last?"
"We reviled the She-Devil, the Evil; we refused to become weapons of war. We fought them, but all but I were eliminated. I escaped," the Plague Doctor shook his head. "How many people did they take?" Sherlock questioned. The Plague Doctor gave a heavy sigh, "Too many to count. That is why they claimed us from our worlds. Too many in one draws unwanted attention."
"They take people from other universes," the Doctor stood there appalled. The Plague Doctor gave a slight nod in response. The Doctor ran a hand through his hair as he tried to understand what was spoken. "We were selected," the Plague Doctor sighed. "We were followed and when it was time, we could not stop it."
"How did they take people from the other universes?" the Doctor asked. The Plague Doctor shook his head lightly. "I do not know. They have agents in all universes that claim subjects for use," the Plague Doctor replied. The Doctor nodded, "Are there any other agents in this universe?"
"I do not know, identities are easy to forge," he heard the Plague Doctor sigh. "They do not even return to their own universes most of the time. Too many risks involved."
"Was Walker from your universe?" the Doctor asked. The Plague Doctor gave a nod in response. The Doctor clenched his teeth and ran a hand through his hair. All of this information was imperative and it made his blood boil. People were being taken from their homes and converted to something like the Plague Doctor—assuming they survived at all during the process. The fact that the Plague Doctor was the only one left meant more grim events in the coming future. Sofia Lamb was increasingly becoming someone who would continue a project even after all this; the Doctor feared that the Corporation was still taking people to be used which meant there would be more cases of the Plague Doctor.
"Here's one thing that I don't understand. Why are you infested with beetles and why are you controlling the ravens with them?" John piped up. He shirked in his spot when the Plague Doctor turned his head toward him. "One day a beetle fell into a slit on my face and got lodged. It consumed my tainted flesh and became tainted as well. It became a necessary evil, of sorts. The beetles consumed the flesh that remained and they colonized. The ravens became interested in the beetles and consumed them as they left through the slits. The substance tainted them as well," the Plague Doctor explained. Sherlock pointed, "Why ravens, why no other bird?"
"Ravens were all they had in the Evil's rookeries, great intelligence they proclaimed. The beetles honed in on them. Hence, the ravens I have now."
"You're using the ravens, why?"
"I cannot see the day, as the day cannot see me. The ravens allow me the only chance I have to see the sun."
"So you do hide in the night."
The Plague Doctor looked away, conveying shame. Sherlock cleared his throat. "Then, why do you help the homeless in Sherwood?" he asked. The Plague Doctor sighed heavily. "I am not a cruel man, not cruel like the She-Devil and the Evil. I too have a heart—what remains. No one questions free food and they do not judge me," he responded.
"Um, just humor me, but can the beetles cause harm to… to people?" John asked. The Plague Doctor scoffed, "The beetles are only capable of attracting ravens. No person has ever eaten a beetle and if they did, the only side effect that would happen is death. The amber substance that is my blood and theirs now, kill those who are not being converted. It eats away at their flesh and anything it comes into contact with."
"So, the only thing to come of it is death if anyone were unfortunate enough to eat a beetle?" John summed. The Plague Doctor nodded. Sherlock crossed his arms, "If you're controlling the ravens, why do they eat?"
"Just because I control them does not necessary mean they no longer abide by the laws of nature," the Plague Doctor told him. Sherlock glanced at the fish carcasses by his feet, half-pecked and the eyes gouged out, he shirked in his spot. He felt something poke him in the back and turned his head slightly to see the end of a rifle pointed at him. The soldiers were forcing John and Clara away from the Doctor and the Plague Doctor as one began to force him to follow suit. He and the others were not allowed to speak or make any noises, and since the Doctor was so intently speaking with the Plague Doctor, he didn't notice that they were being taken away.
The Plague Doctor's heavy head moved up, he moved his head looking around before he looked at the Doctor. "Doctor?" he called him. The Doctor nodded, "Yes?"
"Are we doomed men?" the Plague Doctor asked. The Doctor tilted his head, "What do you mean?"
"Are we doomed to remember? Forced to regale in memories that have purpose only to haunt us, remind us of former friends and family that we have lost, that nothing we do will ever bring us back to a point where we were happy men. Where we are forced to wander aimlessly, because we have no homes to our names, forced to carry the weight of our burden with no end in sight?" the Plague Doctor sighed. The Doctor looked at the ground temporary and looked up. "We prevail. We may be doomed as you say, but we prevail," the Doctor responded. The Plague Doctor gave a chuckle, sounds of popping emitting from the inner mask. "An honest answer, it has been far too long since I had heard an honest answer," the Plague Doctor admitted. The Doctor nodded, "I try to be."
"Do you grieve, Doctor?" the Plague Doctor asked him. He nodded. "I do," he replied. The Plague Doctor gave a nod, "Do you mourn the life that you once had before this?"
The Doctor looked at the ground. He never gave much thought about it at all. He remembered life on Gallifrey and the people he grew up with, people he was friends with and he even missed those that persecuted him. Famously, he was friends with the late Master, but the tides changed and the friendship they had soon soured and the once friends became bitter enemies. It ended when the Master was killed that one faithful Christmas. To this day, the Doctor missed his old life, missed his old friendship with the Master, and missed his friends and his companions. "I do," the Doctor finally replied.
"Then we neither so different, are we?" the Plague Doctor wondered. The Doctor nodded. "Neither different, yeah. But there is still one difference."
"Which… is?" the Plague Doctor waited. The Doctor answered, "Hope. I still have hope."
"A man who has lost many, still hopes?" the Plague Doctor questioned. The Doctor nodded. "A foolish prospect," the Plague Doctor spat. The Doctor crossed his arms, "It is the most constant thing in my life. I know I may not succeed but damn if I don't at least try."
"An amicable response, but how long will you hold to that?" the Plague Doctor asked him. He replied, "For as long as I damn live."
The Plague Doctor gave a nod. "Then answer me this, Doctor," the Plague Doctor eyed him. "Why do good men suffer?"
The Doctor looked to the ground. He truly didn't have a response to the Plague Doctor's question. He couldn't come up with an answer that would benefit them both and he wasn't about to go back on his part about lying. He couldn't give a generic answer either nor could he talk through his teeth. He gritted his teeth, "I-I don't know the answer."
The Plague Doctor gave a hollow sigh. The Doctor cleared his throat, "Let me help you."
"No Doctor, I'm far removed for your help. My time has come anyhow," the Plague Doctor slowly shook his head. "Time?" the Doctor stared. The Plague Doctor gave a nod.
"My time has come. I will not be alive much longer. My ravens will die without me and the beetles will follow soon after," he replied.
"What do you mean?" the Doctor demanded. "Goodbye, Doctor," the Plague Doctor merely said. Clara shrieked suddenly. The Doctor turned to see Clara, Sherlock, and John held at gunpoint as other soldiers pointed their rifles at the Plague Doctor. The Doctor was pulled away by force and all watched in horror as men opened fire on the Plague Doctor. He did not resist, nor did he even attempt to shield himself. He merely stood there and took the blunt of the bullets piercing his chassis, the bullets erupted the wirings and producing painful electric shocks. The beetles began to explode from the electric shocks produced from the bullets. The eggs began to pop, like popcorn, shocks sent up to the head where it pierced through the amber membrane and caused the Plague Doctor to let out a hollow moan. The Doctor fought the soldiers who held him and the others back as they watched the Plague Doctor's head violently twitched, amber liquid pouring from the slits of the mask and eyes. The soldiers were ordered to open fire and again and they complied, setting forth another barrage of bullets into the Plague Doctor. The Plague Doctor began to stumble, his head continued to twitch, sparks flew out from his exposed chest, revealing a compressed skeleton inside, enrobed in wires and preserved nerves. A loud thud emitted from the area as the Plague Doctor fell backwards into the waters, sparks continuing to fly. The Doctor yelled at the soldiers, demanding for answers, when he spotted Bradley and Moya near the Humvee, he pushed the soldiers away and stormed toward them. "Why did you kill him?" the Doctor shouted at Bradley and Moya. "He wasn't a threat!"
"We were under orders, we had no choice," Bradley shouted back. Moya nodded, "We had to follow them, Doctor."
"He was a man!" the Doctor insisted. "We know that, Doctor, but the higher ups deemed him a threat and so he had to be-he had to be eliminated," Bradley explained. The Doctor shook his head, "So you had men follow us out here so you can do him in once you learned what you wanted, is that it?"
"Our hands were tied!" Bradley shouted. The Doctor gritted his teeth, "You should've told me!"
"And what becomes of us when they learn we broke the directive and told you our orders?" Bradley pointed at him. The Doctor scoffed. "And even if we did, there wouldn't a damn thing we could do," Bradley continued. The Doctor stared at him, "I could've helped!"
"And what would you've done? He was a corpse in a machine—a revenant—he was too far from for help, Doctor, and even if you did help him—it doesn't excuse the fact he killed a man!" Bradley responded. Moya looked at him, "Walker was dirty, and the thing knew him. Are you going to excuse his actions?"
"He would've been tried as any other," Bradley looked at her. Moya shook her head, "We wouldn't have known until after he was killed."
Bradley took a deep breath as the Doctor stared at the body of water. He pushed past the soldiers and stopped at the water's edge. He saw the Plague Doctor looking at him directly, the eyes changing from the pure silver to a dark, empty color. The Doctor watched as the body slowly disappeared into the depths of the canal as soldiers swarmed it with equipment. Sherlock and the others stood next to him, watching as men entered the canal, claiming what remained. Clara covered her mouth as she quietly sobbed; Sherlock and John were in disbelief. The Doctor rubbed his eyes, "I will stop them I promise you this, I will avenge you."