Chapter 2: Into the Thick of It
Entry 1b: Meeting the Doctor was a breath of fresh air. Before he tumbled into my life, things were so boring – although, I will admit, everything seems boring in comparison to him. I was an English major, going to university with the hope of becoming a writer. My stiff, unimaginative, practical parents hoped the degree would help me get a job in administration – which is a fine job, if that's what you want to do; but I didn't. They'd decided to allow me one last 'hurrah' before I 'got serious' and 'focused on something important.' I'm pretty sure they only let me study English to shut me up, as if the details of my future were negotiable. My parents never saw value in The Arts; they were more analytical than conceptual. My hobby – my passion – had always been viewed as nonsense – and insignificant, on top of that.
I knew that they wanted a steady, reliable job for me. They saw writing as too unpredictable and unorthodox. And I don't necessarily disagree. But it's something I love to do. If I'm going to spend the rest of my life working, I want my work to be something I enjoy. A good paycheck with the possibility of promotions doesn't satisfy me. My whole life, living in my parents' rigid household, was about facts and figures and order. I grew to fear what I couldn't control and despise what I couldn't perfect.
And then I met the Doctor. And suddenly, my mind was opened to all the possibilities of life – not just on Earth, but across the universe. The man was a walking encyclopedia, but he never shied away from encountering something he didn't know or understand; rather, he embraced it. He was curious and playful and brilliant; he traveled through time and space, no concern about structure or predictability. He thrived on chaos and discovery and the unknown. He lived every day simply to explore and to learn and to grow. His search for knowledge wasn't in order to organize everything into a neat category or define the results. The knowledge he gained was up for interpretation, just something to make life richer and more diverse.
I wanted what the Doctor had. I wanted to learn and ponder and experience new things. I wanted to think in the theoretical. I wanted to go about life with the carefree attitude which he did. I wanted to decide what things meant to me personally. I wanted to know of life outside of my own strict bubble, to be able to write a variety of perspectives. I didn't want to study to pass a test; I wanted to study simply to grow my understanding. I needed something (or someone) to break me out of my suffocating mind and my even more suffocating, monotonous existence. (My parents could say what they would about my writing, but they couldn't deny my capacity for drama.)
The Doctor's impact on humanity is hotly debated by many. If you ask me, I believe he changes lives for the better; he liberates and inspires people like no other creature could. And for that, I'm eternally grateful.
After helping the Doctor to secure the Skraw in the TARDIS (Gemma hoped she'd never have to find herself moving an unconscious body ever again), they continued their search of the office. She meandered around the reception area while he took to knocking on walls and sniffing the carpet. However, she very quickly found herself distracted by observing him.
The Doctor was so odd and mysterious and cosmic. There was this aura that surrounded him, an aura of limitless possibilities and untold wonders. Simultaneously, he seemed approachable and humble. Gemma couldn't help likening him to the popular story-telling trope of a mad genius – a man with a mind so brilliant yet so unhinged. He was all gangly limbs and rushed speech and erratic movements. She would've assumed him to be clumsy and uncoordinated, but the Doctor was actually quite the opposite. He practically danced around the room, easily maneuvering to avoid any furniture in his way. And what he couldn't avoid, he simply jumped over or stood on or deftly moved out of his path.
Unlike Gemma, it was obvious the Doctor felt at home in his body (a thought which wouldn't come to strike her as ironic until much further in the future.) He was the sort of person that managed to feel at home no matter where they were. He was so completely and utterly unbothered by the environment around him. He'd get lost in his own little world, dashing about from one end of the room to the other. He never slowed his pace to be more socially acceptable or altered his mannerisms to be more courteous. He just… existed. He fully inhabited the world around him, never once stopping to consider what others might have to say. The Doctor went about his business fearlessly and unyieldingly - and it was absolutely refreshing.
After staring and pondering this miraculous stranger that had turned her day upside-down, Gemma finally remembered that they had a job to do. "So, remind me: what exactly are we looking for?"
His head poked up from behind some armchairs. "Not sure. Some sort of hideout or vessel or something." The Doctor frowned at his Irregularity Indicator like it had committed some great, personal offense against him.
"Ah - the base of operations," she enunciated dramatically.
The Doctor would've smiled if he wasn't so frustrated. "Exactly. It's just this blasted thing." He slapped the device and then gave it a hard shake. "It traces the energy signatures to somewhere in this office, but I can't get it to narrow down any further!"
Gemma came out from behind reception, abandoning any remaining pretense of searching. "Alright, well, let's think…. Occam's Razor states that the simplest explanation is usually the right one. So, if you've thoroughly searched the office and haven't found anything, the simplest explanation is that it isn't in the office. Maybe it's, I dunno… behind it or below it or somethin'."
The Doctor snapped his fingers, pivoting to point at Gemma. "Yes. That is brilliant."
"Well don't sound so surprised!"
The Doctor ignored her, starting to pace back and forth. "Right, then. They're in this area, but not in this building. If I were a Skraw, where would I be?"
"One would hope in space, but obviously we're past that point," Gemma remarked, sitting down to watch his thought process unfold.
"Alright – suppose, in a more undesirable situation, I was a Skraw on Earth. Where would I be? …Skraw usually prefer dark, damp spaces. Is there anything around here like that?"
"Not on campus, but I'm pretty sure there's a sewer system that runs under several of the buildings. There were some plumbing problems last semester."
The Doctor immediately broke out into an excited grin. "Oh, if I were a Skraw, that's definitely where I'd be. Come on – we've got to find an entrance!"
He dashed off like a puppy on box springs, and Gemma scrambled to catch up. Together, they made their way outside and around the office. The Doctor's Irregularity Indicator was back in his hand, and they were both searching fervently. It was Gemma who ultimately spotted it – a sewer grate, in the alley behind the counselor's office.
"Doctor, over here! I think I found something," she called, kneeling down next to grate.
"Ah, very good. That's a sewer entrance if I've ever seen one! You're making a tremendous start on earning your keep, Gemma." At his words, Gemma smiled and reached out to open the grate. The Doctor's arms immediately shot out to stop her. "Woah - hold it right there! I'm going down first."
She frowned, quirking an eyebrow. "Why?"
"Forgot about the deal, have we? I am not putting you at risk – not as long as you insist on joining me. I'll go down first to ensure the surrounding area is safe and then you'll come." He removed the grate and placed it to the side in one swift motion.
Gemma pouted like a petulant preschooler who was told they couldn't have a second cupcake. "So you really intend to stick to that, hm?"
The Doctor gave her a very serious (and slightly exasperated) look. "Yes. I didn't go through all the trouble of saving you just to turn around and shove you headfirst into harm's way…."The end of his sentence got muffled as he began to descend the ladder, but Gemma still heard.
"I'm not sure if I should be takin' that as an insult or a compliment," she replied, hovering over the opening to watch him climb down.
The Doctor muttered something that might've been 'you should take it as common sense', but now he was too far away for Gemma to hear him properly. She waited impatiently for him to reach the bottom and do whatever was necessary to satisfy his neurotic protectiveness. As soon as she heard the "All clear!", Gemma began her descent. It was in this moment, as her palms connected with the rusted, mucky rungs of the ladder, that she finally realized just how gross this was going to be. Gemma tried hard to focus on the people that might be in danger, rather than the disgusting environment. She could deal with a bit of unpleasantness for the sake of her fellow students.
Gemma landed with a splash at the bottom of the ladder - and refused to consider what the shallow stream of liquid might be. The sewer was larger than she'd expected – easily the size of a spacious master bedroom. It was dim and musty and drafty – the perfect backdrop for criminal activity. The Doctor had already meandered a few feet away, pointing the Irregularity Indicator ahead of him.
Gemma hastened to catch up with him. "You getting a better signal down here, then?"
The Doctor nodded enthusiastically. "Oh yes! The location is narrowing down again; we're definitely on the right path."
"Good, good."
They devolved into silence, walking side-by-side through the tunnel. Gemma observed the pipes and canals, and the Doctor stared intently at his invention. She was quiet for a while, wanting to give him the room to focus and evaluate. But dips in a conversation always made her feel awkward, and this situation was odd enough; she needed something to fill the space.
"Y'know," Gemma started, "In my wildest dreams and imaginings of an extraterrestrial encounter, I always pictured something a bit more glamourous than… a sewer."
"You were the one that forced your way into my investigation! I tried to send you home."
Gemma scrunched up her nose in mock disgust. "If I'd known that your adventure was gonna be so dingy, I might've taken your advice."
"Well, I'm terribly sorry to disappoint you, Gemma," The Doctor replied, sounding anything but genuine. "But in my defense, I do usually plan more appealing trips."
That perked Gemma's interest. "Oh? This is something you do often? Adventuring, I mean?"
The Doctor tensed almost imperceptibly, and this was another moment when Gemma suspected she'd made him uncomfortable for some secretive reason. "…I used to."
His brief response suggested that he wanted this topic dropped, but Gemma was persistent. She had an idea brewing. "With other people?"
"…Yes."
"So, they're like group trips across the stars?"
"Well, I don't know if you'd constitute it as a group. I never typically travel with more than two passengers at a time; most often, it's just me and a girl – uh, a woman – a female - a lady – uhm, you know what I mean…." The Doctor got very uncomfortable and flustered at the end, scratching at the nape of his neck.
Gemma found it endearing. She did know what he meant, but she also saw an opportunity to wind him up. Preparing for her acting performance, Gemma gave him a disapproving look. "Ah, I see how it is. You go around flashin' that cheeky smile and pick up a different girl on every planet."
He suddenly looked mortified, going deathly pale. "What? No! Heavens, no, that's not- I would never- it isn't like that! We're just friends! I'm not- I'm not that sort of man; my intentions – I mean, no, I don't have intentions-"
Unable to maintain the ruse, Gemma interrupted him with a comforting grip on his arm. "-Doctor! I know. I know you're not like that. I was only messin' with you; I'm sorry." The Doctor was aghast, and Gemma couldn't help giggling, just a little. "In my defense, you're adorable when you're flustered. And you make it so easy; I couldn't resist."
"'Adorable'?!" The Doctor was immediately offended, but his dilated pupils and pouty expression only worked to prove Gemma's point. "Unbelievable. Un-believable! You, Gemma Barns, are absolutely diabolical!"
She made an effort to look apologetic, squashing down her endeared smile. "Okay, I deserve that. But I just had to see how you'd react. …You really are one of the good ones, Doctor."
His expression shifted from irritated to squeamish very quickly. "You've hardly known me long enough to make that sort of deduction."
"Well, admittedly, the concept of you picking up women and traveling alone with them is a suspicious one. But something tells me you're the sort to use your powers for good."
The Doctor shook his head at her like she'd just said something so incredibly silly. "Those are rather baseless presumptions, Gemma."
"I don't think so. I mean, look what's happened in the short time I've known you: you devote time to investigating the missing students, save me, disarm the Skraw in a humane way. I mean, with the sort of technology you've got, you could be destroying or conquering the planet like all those other aliens. But you don't; you help people. 'Cuz, I mean, that wasyou who put all the planets back, yeah?"
Gemma's admiration was clearly making the Doctor uncomfortable. He didn't seem to like the idea of being considered a hero. (That was probably due to another one of those secrets she didn't know.)
He shrugged noncommittally, brushing off the compliment. (How had she figured out about the planets, anyway? Was he that transparent?) "Well, not just me. I had help from some friends – some of whom were the aforementioned women."
"That sounds absolutely brilliant. Saving the world, exploring the universe… why'd you stop?"
The Doctor swallowed around the anxiety swelling in his throat. "Things just got a bit complicated. It's a dangerous business, traveling like we did. Ultimately, it was better to go our separate ways…."
"And that's it? You're never traveling again?"
"Not like that," he replied almost immediately. His conviction was obvious. "Not with others."
Gemma's face fell – she couldn't help showing her disappointment. It made the Doctor feel awful to see her that way, but his hands were tied. That was absolutely not a path he could venture down again; he'd made an oath to himself. It was a recipe for disaster, otherwise.
Trying to brighten her mood, he quickly attempted to switch topics. "So! According to the Irregularity Indicator, we're only a few hundred feet away from the energy signature."
Gemma's smile wasn't as genuine as it had been, but she tried to get over her displeasure. After all, the Doctor didn't own her anything. (If anything, she owed him.) "And what's the plan for when we get there?"
"Oh, y'know, have a look around, search for potential hostages, confiscate any drugs they may have already made, perhaps give their technology a scan. And hopefully, one of those things will lead us to tracking the rest of them down."
"Yeah, but what'll we do once we've tracked them all?"
Suddenly, a nearby voice echoed off the walls and cut their conversation short. The Doctor and Gemma pressed up against the nearest wall, not daring to move or speak or even breath. There was a conversation taking place just around the bend from them. The language was foreign to Gemma, each word sounding like a frog gargling water. The Doctor, however, seemed to be paying rapt attention. Apparently, he understood this alien dialogue (because, of course he did; evidently, he was the man who could do everything.)
"Can you understand them?" Gemma whispered, already quite certain of the answer.
The Doctor nodded, whispering back, "They're speaking the Skraws' native language - Langrigg."
"Well, what are they saying?"
"They don't know about what happened to the others yet…." The Doctor paused so he could hear more of the conversation before continuing. "They think Dr. Moorland and Mandy will be returning soon… with you. They… they're saying they've almost collected enough. They've got one last target…. A girl named Laura."
"Laura?" Gemma replied, starting to panic. "Laura what? What's her surname?"
The Doctor shook his head. "They haven't said. If only I could get a closer look-"
It was at this moment that things got sticky. The Skraw that was speaking abruptly stopped. He started sniffing - loudly and fervently - and took a deep breath through the nose. Then, he said something to his comrades. There was some more sniffing, and then an exclamation in Langrigg. Gemma didn't need to know the language to understand the connotation. It was very clearly a threat – a call to arms.
The Doctor turned to her with an urgent look and whispered hastily, "They can smell you. Run."
He grabbed her hand in a fierce grip, and the two of them bolted down the corridor. Behind them, Gemma heard rushed footsteps splashing in the shallow water. There was hissing, and what she assumed to be the sound of claws dragging across cement. Gemma was tempted to peek over her shoulder, to chance a look at that undoubtedly bonkers scene. But the Doctor never did, and she decided that was probably for the best. They didn't need the distraction.
Once they reached the base of the ladder, the Doctor pushed her forward. "Go on, start climbing!"
She followed his instructions, ascending that ladder as quickly as humanly possible. The Doctor, who perhaps was able to climb as quickly as non-humanly possible, was right behind Gemma and appeared on the surface only seconds after her. He rushed to replace the sewer grate – it wouldn't stop them, but it would slow them down. In an instant, her hand was back in his, and the Doctor was dragging her away.
Gemma had no idea what to do next, but the Doctor was running with purpose. "Doctor, where can we go?"
"The TARDIS!" he replied as they barreled through the doors of the counselor's office.
They ran through several halls and doorways, eventually making a sharp turn into the storage closet. Gemma heard glass shattering somewhere in the distance, and she surmised that the Skraw had just entered the building. She slammed the closet door shut as the Doctor worked to unlock the TARDIS. His hands, she noted, moved with such dexterity, and the doors were open in seconds. Gemma found it quite impressive, because with all the stress of this situation, her hands were shaking like a leaf.
The doors to the TARDIS slammed shut behind them, locking immediately, and the Doctor dashed up to the console. She dared not interrupt or distract him, knowing that it could very well mean their lives. But Gemma still followed him over, watching as he pressed buttons and adjusted notches. With the final flip of a switch, the TARDIS started to hum and vibrate. It only lasted a few seconds, and as soon as it stopped, the Doctor flopped back onto the launch seat.
He threw his head back with a dramatic sigh. "Safe. We're safe, now."
"But what happens if they check the storage closet? What if they can smell me?" Gemma was flushed and panting, still reeling with adrenaline.
"I've just made the TARDIS go invisible, and she'll mask any scent and heat signatures. I doubt they'd be able to sense us in here anyway, but it's just a precaution."
"'She'? Who is she?"
The Doctor raised his head to give Gemma a confused look. "The TARDIS, of course."
Gemma's brain short-circuited. "The TARDIS? It's a 'she', not an 'it'?"
He nodded. "Oh, yes. She's completely sentient." The lights of the console room glowed a bright green in confirmation. "See? She says 'hello'."
Gemma blinked, then blinked again. Suddenly, she felt like a million eyes were on her, standing in a sentient ship. Just when she thought the Doctor couldn't surprise her anymore, he did. Unable to process all this at one time, Gemma leaned heavily against the console. This was doing nothing good for her flight response.
The Doctor noticed her struggling for breath and quickly stood from the launch seat. "Ah, where are my manners? Please, sit. Get off your feet for a second."
Gemma hesitated. "Is that… alright? Does she, feel it or anythin'? I'm not sitting in her lap, am I?"
The TARDIS vibrated in a way that sounded very much like a laugh. The Doctor chuckled along with her. "No. That's not quite how it works. Don't worry."
"Well, so long as you say it's okay." Her apprehension died the moment she collapsed into the plush leather. This was a much-needed reprieve.
The Doctor scrutinized her carefully. "You alright? Are you hurt?"
She shook her head. "Just a bit winded, that's all. You?"
"Oh, don't worry about me, Gemma. I'm always alright." (Something told her that wasn't true.)
Seemingly out of nowhere, the Doctor presented her with a cool bottle of water. She accepted it with a grateful smile.
As she took greedy gulps, the Doctor turned toward the console and said, "So… If you'd like me to drop you off now, can do. I just need an address or approximate location."
Gemma stopped drinking to scowl at the back of his head. "Really?You're tryna' get rid of me again? What happened to the deal?"
He swiveled back around, looking surprised by her hostility. "Oh, well, I just thought… I mean, we nearly died just then. I figured you wouldn't want to continue."
"Are you kidding? That was the most thrilling thing I've ever done!" At the Doctor's baffled reaction, she elaborated. "I mean, yes, sure, we could've died. But… we didn't. And I was never really worried that we would. I trust your skills."
Her relentless optimism – with a tinge of anarchy – reminded him of Martha. It was a sour-sweet reminder, and he almost smiled. Almost. "Very well then. A deal's a deal." Gemma smiled broadly, and the Doctor decided that maybe it was worth it. "Right, well, we need to get back to work! The Skraw will undoubtedly accelerate their timeline now that they know we're on to them."
That sparked Gemma's memory, and she inhaled sharply. "Oh my gosh. Doctor, you said they were talking about a girl named Laura, yeah?"
The Doctor nodded, growing solemn and contemplative at the implication. "That name means something to you, doesn't it? Do you know her?"
"Well, there's bound to be more than one Laura on campus…. And without a surname, I can't be sure. But, yeah, I do know a Laura. We have a class together on Wednesdays. …How do we figure out which Laura they were talkin' about?"
After a brief silence, the Doctor snapped his fingers in a metaphorical lightbulb moment. "We'll cross-reference with Dr. Moorland's patient list! It's what they used to select their victims. If there's a 'Laura' on the list…"
"Then she's probably their final target," Gemma finished, catching on to his thought process. "And her surname would be listed, so we could conclusively determine her identity."
"Exactly." The Doctor bounded over to a secluded corner of the console room, to a small workstation. He rifled through scattered papers before grabbing the one he was looking for and coming back. "Right, then, let's see…"
There was a tense moment of silence as the Doctor scanned the paperwork. Then, finally, he found something. "Ah! Here we are. Laura… Fieldman. She's the only Laura on the list."
Gemma's chest clenched. "That's the Laura I know…."
The Doctor noticed her starting the tremble, so he reached out to squeeze her wrist supportively. "No, no, no – don't worry! It's okay, Gemma. Really, this is a good thing! We're now one step ahead of them. We know who and where their final target is, and that will enable us to set a trap." She looked him in the eyes (whether for comfort or confirmation, he wasn't sure.) But it felt appropriate to add: "I won't let anything happen to your friend. You have my word."
That seemed to be all she needed, because with a nod and a few deep breaths, Gemma was composed again. "Thank you, Doctor. What can I do to help?"
"Do you have her phone number?" When she nodded, the Doctor continued, "Call her – immediately. Make sure she's safe-" Gemma wanted to slap herself for not thinking of that sooner. Instead of checking on her friend, she'd immediately succumbed to anxiety! Amateur mistake. "-and then explain the situation as best you can. I know she may not believe everything, but it's imperative that you get her to agree to discuss the plan."
Gemma nodded, and dialed Laura's number.
AN: This was originally supposed to be one long chapter that continued on. I split it into chapters 2 and 3, because as a singular chapter, I felt it was too much. Thanks for reading!