Chapter 1: A Chance Encounter
AN: This is my first Doctor Who fanfic, as I'm quite new to the fandom. So far, I've only seen the Tenth Doctor's episodes, so my knowledge is limited to 3 seasons and random bits of info that I've picked up from YouTube and the wiki. I'm also American, so my understanding of British slang might be lackluster. Please excuse any awkward phraseology or inaccurate lore.
This story is based around the premise of what I would've liked to see happen with Ten's character development had he not regenerated. This story takes place not long after Journey's End; 4x14 and onward didn't happen. I've also set the Tenth Doctor's era in modern times - 2023 - because the options for technology are just so much better.
I'll also explain the narrative structure, since it's nontraditional. The first section of each chapter (in italics) are the writings of my OC in her journal; as such, they're 1st person POV. After her journal entries comes the proper chapter - you'll be able to tell the difference by the line break and the change from italics back to regular; this will always be done in 3rd person POV. So if you find 1st person off-putting, I ask that you still give it a read. In my extremely biased opinion, I think I make the two POVs work pretty well.
That's all you need to know. Thanks for giving this story a shot, and I hope you enjoy! Feedback is much appreciated :)
(Cross-posted on AO3)
Entry 1a: Recent events have got me thinking a lot about time – about how vastly your perspective can change as time passes. "Hindsight is 20/20", "if only I knew then what I know now" – that sort of thing. And I've decided that, whether you're aware of it or not, there are these defining moments in time that fundamentally shape some aspect of your life. I never imagined that anything would happen in my life which was so consequential. But in retrospect, I see that brief encounter in the counselor's office for what it was: the moment my life fundamentally shifted.
It's funny, because I didn't think much of it at the time. I was on my way out after my Monday session, and suddenly, he came barreling around the corner – frizzled hair, long coat, and all. He buzzed with frantic energy, and he was so focused on whatever he was doing that he knocked right into me. I noticed the odd smartphone-like device in his hand and the somewhat distant look in his eyes and, well, to be frank, I just assumed he was an engineering professor on the brink of a nervous breakdown. (Given that we were in the university counselor's office, it wasn't exactly an improbable theory.) He stammered an apology, seeming genuinely remorseful amongst the ball of chaotic energy that surrounded him, and I accepted the apology and went on my way. It was odd, to be sure, but I didn't expect anything to come of it. I didn't expect to cross paths with that strange man ever again.
If only I had known then what I know now.
She never would've known that anything unusual was going to happen when she awoke that Friday morning. Her day followed the course that it normally did: breakfast, classes, assignments, lunch, another class. It was ordinary – as every day had been since… well, since recent memory. Her lunchtime therapy session had been moved to the early evening, an occurrence which she attributed to the increased number of students seeking counseling around finals week.
It was as she entered the office around 5:30pm that the day started to take a turn. She expected the waiting room to be bustling with people - chairs full, magazines rustling, nails tapping on phone screens. But, when she arrived, it was deserted. She hadn't passed anyone on her way in; there wasn't anyone coming out of an earlier appointment; no one had arrived early for a later appointment. She knew for a fact that Dr. Moorland saw patients up until 6:45, so where were they? People usually came and went from this building from opening to closing. Why did it look like the office had been evacuated when it was packed full the last time she was here?
"Evening, Gemma," greeted the receptionist.
Gemma smiled, approaching the counter to sign in. "Hey, Mandy. Slow day? I thought students were breakin' down the door to get an appointment."
Mandy returned the smile, but it was tinged with something that made Gemma uncomfortable in a way she couldn't explain. "Absolutely. Everyone gets so stressed around this time of year, it's no wonder."
Gemma chuckled. "You wouldn't know it, lookin' around this waiting room."
"Well, most of them don't need therapy, anymore. Dr. Moorland is a miracle-worker," Mandy replied, looking somewhat wistful.
Just as Gemma was thinking that surely therapy doesn't work that way, Dr. Moorland peeked out of her office. "Gemma? Ah, hello, love. Ready for our session?"
Gemma nodded, desperate to break away from the receptionist's unnerving presence. She walked into the office, sat down on that familiar plush couch, and for a moment, things felt ordinary once again. Then, there was a click – which she determined could only be the sound of one thing.
"Dr., did- did you just lock the door?"
As she was saying that, Gemma noticed that the curtains were drawn. And Dr. Moorland's chair wasn't in its usual spot. And… what was that stuff on her desk? It was hard to see in the dim lighting, but Gemma was sure she spotted the silhouette of some duct tape. And suddenly, she got the very overwhelming feeling of wrong, wrong, wrong.
"Gemma, I always do," Dr. Moorland said with a furrowed brow and disarming smile. "It prevents others from bursting in during a session. More privacy this way. I've told you this before; don't you remember?"
No, she absolutely did not lock the door during sessions! Of this, Gemma was sure! Why was her psychiatrist trying to convince her of an obvious lie? That was the last clue Gemma needed to realize that she had to get out of this situation. "Uhh, right. Well, listen, Dr. Moorland, I'm actually not feeling well today, so let's just reschedule." Gemma scurried to the door, shakily jiggling the handle before turning back to her doctor. "Could you – could you go ahead and open the door now?"
But Dr. Moorland just gave her a devilish grin, taking a deep breath through the nose. "Mmm. Do you smell that, Gemma? Do you smell that… pure stress in the air? It's a delightful scent, don't you think?"
At that point, she abandoned all plans to reason with Dr. Moorland and just started yanking at the doorknob, hoping to break herself out. She wasn't able to accomplish much before Dr. Moorland's arms wrapped tightly around Gemma's torso, pinning her arms against her hips. Gemma screamed, began to thrash and kick, but the psychiatrist was stronger, and she began pulling Gemma back towards the desk. Gemma's mind ran a mile a minute, trying to figure a way out. She was just deciding between biting her captor or trying to get hold of a weapon when a commotion arose outside the door.
There was a muffled conversation, followed by crashing items, a big thud, and then, just beyond the door, a whirring noise. As quickly as the whirring started, it was over, and a lanky man came bursting into the room. No, not just some lanky man – that man, the strange man she'd bumped into earlier in the week!
Dr. Moorland tossed Gemma to the floor, hissing at the newcomer. "Who are you? What is the meaning of this?"
"I should ask you the same thing! Sculking around, imprisoning innocent people – didn't your mother teach you better than that?" replied the stranger.
The psychiatrist barred her teeth, which, to Gemma's surprise, were razor-sharp and unusually dense.
The man tutted, looking disappointed. "Oh, that routine might work on the little ones, but it isn't nearly as scary as you think. You wanna know what is scary?" He smirked, pulling out a dart gun from behind his back. "Me."
Dr. Moorland had no time to react as the man fired off a dart, hitting her in the side of the neck. She promptly collapsed, and the room descended into silence.
After a beat, the man walked over and kneeled down next to Gemma. "Are you alright? She didn't hurt you, did she?"
The remorse in his eyes was just as genuine now as it was last Monday, which left her perplexed and with dozens of questions. The first one she settled on was, "Who are you?"
He smiled gently, assisting Gemma to her feet. "I'm the Doctor. Pleasure to make your acquaintance. Well, I suppose there are much nicer ways of meeting, but still." The Doctor moved to hover over Dr. Moorland, inspecting her carefully.
Once again, Gemma was at war about what to say. There was the matter of this man's sudden appearance, the dart gun, her psychiatrist's ironically psychotic behavior- oh. Her psychiatrist. Gemma looked down at her somberly. "Is she… is she dead?"
"Hmm?" The Doctor's head suddenly popped up to face her, like he'd been lost in his own little world. "Oh! No, no, no. She's perfectly fine. Just unconscious, that's all. She'll wake up later in tippity-top shape. No need to worry now; I've got this handled. Best to get yourself home safe."
"Get myself…? What?" The Doctor stood to his full height, startled by her outburst, but Gemma couldn't hold her tongue anymore. "I- you- and, and she…! My psychiatrist just tried to, I dunno, abduct me, and you just want to send me home?! You burst in, from outta nowhere, getting through a door locked from the inside and just want me to go home? You, you shot Dr. Moorland, won't tell me who you are, and say you've 'got this handled'?! Like I'm just s'possed to walk away as if nothing happened?! Give me one good reason why I shouldn't be calling the police on both of you right now!"
He shook his head. "I can assure you, I mean no harm. It's just better this way. The explanation isn't quick or easy."
Gemma crossed her arms. "Try me."
The Doctor scrutinized her for a minute before sighing. He pulled a weird cylinder out of his pocket, pointing it at Dr. Moorland. It activated, emitting a glowing blue light, and once again Gemma heard the whirring. (Well, at least that was one question answered.) Then, before her very eyes, Dr. Moorland's shape began to fade and change. Her human body was replaced with-
Gemma yelped, stepping back a few feet. "Sh-she – she's an alligator! What did you do to her?!"
The Doctor raised his hands in surrender. "I didn't do anything to her. This… is the form that was hiding under her human visage." He approached Gemma slowly, trying to convey comfort. "She was wearing something called a 'shimmer'; it's basically a sort of temporary disguise. And-" The Doctor turned to look down at Dr. Moorland "-she's not an alligator. She's part of an alien species called 'Skraw.'"
"'Alien?'" Gemma chuckled, slightly delirious. "What, like that time all those planets showed up in the sky?"
The Doctor nodded. "That was also due to alien intervention, yes."
As she began to process this, the Doctor pulled another device out of his pocket – the smartphone thing she'd seen him with on Monday – and started meandering around the room. "But… but this is the sort of stuff that happens in movies. I mean, taking over the planet is one thing, but what would aliens want with me?"
"The same thing they wanted with those other missing students. You heard about that, yes?"
Gemma furrowed her brow, contemplating. "Yeah, but the school was reporting that it was probably just a few 'slackers' out on a 'bender'."
The Doctor briefly paused in his search to look over at her. "That's not what happened. I suspect they only said that to keep from spreading panic – or to absolve themselves of guilt."
"So, there's an actual threat out there? These…" Gemma floundered for the right word.
"Skraw," the Doctor supplied.
"Skraw, yeah. They're hunting students at Oxford?"
"I believe so, yes."
"…What for?"
The Doctor bounded over to the bookcase, scanning everything with that handheld device. "As I'm sure you can imagine, Skraw biology is vastly different from that of humans. Their bodies don't naturally produce adrenaline or cortisol."
"Stress hormones…" Gemma added, starting to piece things together.
"Precisely. And though their bodies don't produce stress hormones, adrenaline and cortisol have an intoxicating effect on their anatomy. It's like a drug to them." The Doctor moved to lean against the desk, suddenly very focused and serious. "My theory is that they've come to Earth to obtain stress hormones from humans. And there's no environment rifer with stress than a university near finals week."
Gemma went silent for a moment, running this new information through her head. Then, finally, she said, "So… you're saying that these… creatures have been abducting my classmates to harness their stress hormones as part of some, what, intergalactic drug deal?"
The Doctor made a face, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "Well, that's a bit of a crude way to put it, but… yes."
Gemma stood in silence once more as the Doctor returned to searching the room. She still had so many questions, but a general picture was beginning to form in her mind. "Oh… I think understand now." The Doctor began nodding at her words. "This is all some elaborate prank, innit?"
His nodding abruptly stopped. He frowned, furrowing his brow. "What?"
"Finally, it all makes sense." Gemma laughed, experiencing levity for the first time since she walked into this office. "This is just a stupid prank. Someone thought they could get a row out of me, is that it? Who put you up to this? Was it James? Oh, I'll bet it was James – that knob. Well, I must admit, this was impressive. The props, the masks, the visual effects – it's quite the production you put on. You had me goin' for a minute."
Now the Doctor was shaking his head. "No, I can assure you, Gemma, this isn't a trick."
"How could it not be? Space alligators, mysterious darts, you bangin' on about some stress hormone conspiracy! I might've actually gone for it had you not made it quite so absurd."
"Gemma-"
"Ah, and there's another thing! You slipped up, 'cuz I never told you my name. How would you know that unless this was preplanned with some of my mates?"
The Doctor sighed, getting flustered. "I – was here on Monday, remember? I managed to get hold of the patient list; I needed to know who might be potential targets. That's how I knew to find you here. You're welcome, by the way! To think, I saved your life, and this is the thanks I get!" Gemma just crossed her arms, continuing to look unimpressed. The Doctor let out a frustrated huff. "Fine - you want more conclusive proof?"
Gemma chuckled. "Yeah. Yeah, let's see what else you can pull outta this bag of tricks."
"Alright, then."
The Doctor ushered her out of the room, past the receptionist (who was lying on the floor, also a "Skraw", apparently), and to a storage closet. He opened the door to reveal a giant blue box in the middle of the room.
"Your irrefutable proof is a police box in a storage closet?" she drawled.
"No," The Doctor replied, ever so slightly petulant. He pulled out a key and went to unlock the police box. "My irrefutable proof is this." With a flourish of his hand, he threw the door open to reveal… a giant room.
Gemma's eyes went wide. Her feet carried her of their own free will, bringing her up to the door. She took a step over the threshold, one foot inside, one foot outside. Her hands ran along the railing, needing to prove to herself that this was real and tangible. Then, she backed up and started circling the box.
The whole time, she barely dared to take a breath – until it all came tumbling out. "But… that's impossible, it's- on the outside, it's this tiny little thing. But then there's this massive room inside…" She ran her hands along the outside of the box, not quite sure what she was looking for, but curious all the same. Gemma turned to the Doctor, and her awestricken state was very nearly ruined by the smug look on his face. Still, she had to ask, "What is it?"
"The TARDIS – Time and Relative Dimension in Space. In layman's terms, it's my time machine – able to travel anywhere and anywhen in the universe."
"Your time machine?" Gemma echoed. "Does that mean- you're an alien, as well?"
The Doctor smiled. "That's right. I'm from a species called Time Lords."
"You look human," Gemma said, scrutinizing him very carefully. She looked at him, really looked at him, from the freckles on his face to the shape of his hands to the size of his feet. Suddenly deciding that she need to be sure he was tangible and real, Gemma reached up to touch his face. She stopped just short, realizing what she was doing only when she saw the Doctor's eyes widen. "Oh, sorry! I just… d'you mind?"
The Doctor looked slightly uncomfortable, his face going through a myriad of expressions before landing on something deceivingly calm. "Uhh, yeah, sure. Go ahead."
Gemma closed the distance, gently resting her palm against his cheek. The Doctor grew much more amused as he saw her eyes widen once more. "I'm talking to an alien." She started giggling. "I'm standing in front of an alien! I'm making physical contact with an alien!" Gemma swiveled around, bounding up the ramp toward the console. "I'm standing on an alien space ship!"
The Doctor followed after her at a much more leisurely place. "O' ye of little faith."
Gemma chuckled, pausing in her inspection of all the buttons to look back at him. "So… your name really is 'The Doctor'?"
"Yup."
"Just 'The Doctor'?"
"Mhmm."
"…Right then." She abruptly turned shy, realizing how off the mark she'd been about him. "I'm sorry… You really did save my life and I just screamed at you…." The Doctor waved her off with a smile, no malice felt whatsoever. "I just – it seemed so unlikely to believe that an average person in an average place could encounter extraterrestrials."
"It's a brave new world out there, Gemma Barns. Nothing's impossible. And with every day that passes, everything – no matter how mad – becomes more likely."
"I s'ppose so." She leaned against the console, now ready for a proper chat. "So, those Skraw things… they're really hunting students here?"
The Doctor nodded.
"What – what was that dart you hit them with? You said Dr. Moorland wasn't dead…"
"No, certainly not. I dipped the darts in a special concoction I made here in the TARDIS." The Doctor approached the console, pulling up various 3D images and equations on a screen. "See, Skraw are usually pretty harmless-"
"Harmless? That's what you call harmless?"
The Doctor raised a finger. "Usually. It isn't in their nature to be volatile, but much like how Earthly drugs can have a negative effect on a human's mood and behavior, so too can stress hormones effect a Skraw. They get the high, yes, but repeated exposure makes them more and more aggressive. Combine that with a desire to get another fix, and, well, you see what can happen. The serum I created is a mixture of chemicals that negates the effect of the hormones."
"So, when they wake up, they won't be violent anymore?"
"Exactly."
"But what then? What are you gonna do with them? I mean, I'm assuming you don't plan to just leave them wandering around Earth – violent or not."
"Quite right. That would create an unpredictable amount of chaos. I have holding cells here in the TARDIS; I'll move them in there, and once I've settled everything here at Oxford, I'll return them to their home planet – and their parents."
"Their parents?"
"Oh yes." The Doctor turned to see the baffled look Gemma was giving him, so he elaborated. "They're only children, after all. Well, teenagers, technically."
"What about those things suggests that they're teenagers?" she asked.
"Oh, adult Skraw grow to be much bigger. That's how you can tell. Also, their behavior; the adults know about the negative effects of stress hormones and tend to steer clear of them. There was an epidemic a few decades back that caused a lot of trouble…. But the younger ones are more reckless; they'll take the risk."
"…Unbelievable. So, the school is saying that the missing students are just off on a bender, but the real reason they're missing is because some teenage aliens actually are on a bender."
The Doctor chuckled, moving around to tinker with some controls. "You have quite a knack for summaries, Gemma."
Gemma plopped down on one of the launch seats, trying to process it all. "Blimey. …But hold on, what are you even doing here, anyway? How'd you know about the Skraw bein' here?"
"I didn't. I was passing by when the TARDIS picked up signals from technology that humans shouldn't have – at least not in this century. I came to investigate, heard talk of the missing students, and went from there."
Gemma leaned forward, elbows on knees. "What led you to the counselor's office?"
The Doctor pulled that strange handheld device out of his pocket. "This. It's just a little machine I threw together. I call it a portable Irregularity Indicator. It's a smaller version of the sensors in the TARDIS that picked up the signals in the first place. It can identify uncommon energy signatures in the surrounding area. The signals grew stronger 'round this office, so I figured whatever was going on had to do with someone or something here."
"Which is why you committed a crime to unlawfully access patient information?" she replied with a smirk.
"Oi! Be glad I did, or you wouldn't be sitting there right now."
Gemma laughed, and as hard as the Doctor tried to maintain a cross look, he couldn't help smiling after a minute. The moment of mirth was cut short when she thought of something else. "Wait! Have I been telling my problems and innermost thoughts to a Skraw this whole semester?"
That actually did make the Doctor laugh a little. "No. They were using shimmers to impersonate Dr. Moorland and the receptionist – and potentially others around campus - but my investigation suggests they've only been here about a week."
"A week…? But, if that's the case, then where's the real Dr. Moorland? And Mandy?"
The Doctor sobered, looking down at the console. "They probably ended up wherever those missing students did." At the saddened look on her face, he felt inclined to add, "I'm sorry, Gemma. They'd already been taken by the time I got here; there was nothing I could do."
Gemma nodded, wringing her hands soothingly. "I know, Doctor." With a dejected sigh, she rose from her seat to stand beside him at the console. "Why can't more of these aliens be like you, hm? It's all… exploding ships in the sky and flying Titanics nearly crashing into Buckingham Palace and alligators tryna steal our cortisol! Where are the rest of your species? Why can't any of them visit Earth instead?"
Gemma's words were said jokingly, but the Doctor immediately tensed. His eyes got a dark, faraway look in them, and she worried that she'd said something wrong. "Doctor? You alright? Was it something I said?"
After a beat, he looked up, the darkness pushed to the back of his eyes – but still very much there. He smiled as if nothing was amiss. "No, not at all. I just remembered about some repairs I need to make later on."
Not for the first time, Gemma was struck with just how much of an enigma this man was. He obviously carried secrets, and she wanted to know what they were. But it wasn't her place, and this wasn't the time. So, she took a cue from him and brushed the issue aside – for now. "Oh, right…. Well then, what do we do now?"
The Doctor pivoted to face her. "'We'?"
"Yes, we. These Skraw came after me – and my friends might be in danger, as well. I want to help."
The Doctor started shaking his head before she'd even finished speaking. "No, Gemma, I can't allow you to do that. It's much too dangerous; you've seen how they behave!"
Gemma crossed her arms resolutely. "Oh, you won't allow it, will you? Well then, it's a good thing I don't take my marching orders from you, because I am going to help. This involves me, my university, my classmates, my species – and you're not sidelining me! This is my fight, as well. I wanna be able to help the others, like you helped me today."
"Gemma-"
"Doctor."
The two had a scathing staring contest, in which Gemma refused to back down and the Doctor analyzed her carefully. In the end, he decided that her will was strong, and it wasn't worth the effort. (These pesky human women and their resolves…) It would only be for a short while longer, and then he vowed to safely return Gemma to her life. (She had to return, no matter what. Bad things happened when they stayed. He repeated that like a mantra.) And he could get things done faster with a sounding board and an extra set of hands.
"…Fine. You can help. But I refuse to put you in any immediate danger, and you will let me take the lead, because I've got more experience with this sort of thing. Deal?"
Gemma reached out to grasp the Doctor's outstretched hand, a smile building on her face. "Deal."