Twists in Time
Chapter Two: Tylers and Jones: On the Moon
By Lumendea
Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who or any spinoff material, and I gain no income from this story, just the satisfaction of playing with the characters.
AN: Martha Jones is here! Oh, I am so excited to bring her aboard the TARDIS with this older and wiser Rose and especially an emotionally stable (mostly) Doctor. I originally planned to bring her on with the Ninth Doctor, but other plot lines held priority and I didn't want Martha being a background character. I'm hopeful that we'll see a great dynamic with Martha and the others this season. Should be something a bit different than most fanfictions.
….
Martha Jones took a deep breath before she walked inside the hospital. She'd finally managed to end this morning's procession of phone calls. A flicker of irritation flared in Martha's chest, but she quickly suppressed it. Getting angry wouldn't help. It never did. Everyone else was angry. Leo's complaints about his family dinner or the party were still ringing in her head, along with her mother's rant and Tish's desire to placate their mother while not actually calling her directly.
Martha shook her head and walked through the main doors to head for the staff area. Dwelling on family matters wouldn't help anything. She needed to focus. They were working with patients today, and she needed to make a good impression on the consultant overseeing them. Studying from the books was one thing, but Martha wanted to be a good doctor. The sort who was comforting and productive with patients.
Things were already busy despite the hour, and Martha was grateful that she had access to the staff corridors to move quicker. Some of her familiar classmates were already present, and Martha greeted them as she put her things away. After getting ready for the day and getting an electrical shock for her troubles, Martha joined the small group of medical students. Mister Stoker already had an impatient expression on his face while he flipped through a chart and spoke with one of the nurses. Martha's stomach churned nervously. Last night's late study session and this morning's phone call had left her already feeling a little tired. That odd man popping up to give her his tie hadn't exactly helped her focus. She had the feeling that between her rounds with the class and tonight's party, it was going to be a difficult day.
Her group of medical students walked into the main ward. It was one of the older styles and a bit more open than Martha preferred, but she supposed that the lower risk cases and size of the room made it accessible for the group. Their first stop was an older woman with thinning white hair tied out of her face. She looked slightly dazed as all of them gathered around her. Mister Stoker stepped up to her bedside to take her pulse and greet her.
"I was all right till this morning, and then, I don't know, I woke up, and I felt all dizzy again," the woman told them. "It was worse than when I came in."
"Pulse is slightly thready," Stoker said. Well, let's see what Britain's finest might suggest. Any ideas, Morgenstern?"
Morgenstern was a rather nervous young man that Martha knew a little from their prior classes and practicals in the hospital. He swallowed and blinked at the woman on the bed.
"Dizziness can be a sign of early onset diabetes," Morgenstern offered.
"Hardly early onset, if you'll forgive me, Miss Finnegan," Stoker replied. "Any more ideas? Swales?"
Swales' eyes widened at being put on the spot. "Er, could recommend a CT scan."
"And spend all our money? Jones?"
Martha managed not to start too badly at being called on. "We could take blood and check for Meniere's disease."
Something like smugness filled Stoker's eyes, and Martha immediately knew that she was on the wrong track. "Or we could simply ask the patient." He smiled a little at their group before turning back to Florence Finnegan. "What did you have for dinner last night?"
"I had salad."
"And the night before?" Stoker pressed.
"Salad again."
"And salad every night for the past week, contrary to my instructions. Salt deficiency, that's all." Mister Stoker turned back to all of them, standing straight. "Simple, honest salt. Hippocrates himself expounded on the virtues of salt. Recommended the inhalation of steam from seawater. Though no doubt if he'd been afflicted with my students, results might have been rather more colourful."
Their group managed a weak chuckle. Martha knew that she wasn't the only one feeling a bit knocked down by that, but she reminded herself that was the point. They were supposed to learn about how complex medicine was and not lose sight of the small, individual picture. No human bodies were exactly the same. Similar, yes, but not the same, and lifestyle had a huge impact.
They stepped up to the next bed in the ward. Martha's eyes were immediately drawn to the familiar man perched in the chair beside the bed of a blonde woman. The pair were smiling and speaking lowly to each other. As their group came to a stop, their pair ceased talking and looked at Mister Stoker expectantly.
"Now then, Dr and Mrs Tyler, a very good morning to you. How are you today, Mrs Tyler?" Stocker asked, addressing the woman.
"Not horrible," the blond woman replied with a tight smile. "But not exactly good either."
"Rose Tyler admitted yesterday with severe abdominal pains. Jones, why don't you see what you can find? Amaze me."
Martha stepped forward, glancing between the woman and her husband. "That wasn't very clever, running around outside, was it?" she asked, addressing the brown-haired man.
"Sorry?" Dr Tyler asked, confusion taking over his face.
"On Chancellor Street this morning? You came up to me and took your tie off."
"Really? What did I do that for?" Now he glanced at his wife.
"I don't know, you just did."
"Not me. I was here with Rose." The man rubbed the back of his neck and nodded to his wife. "Ask the nurses."
"Well, that's weird, 'cause it looked like you," Martha said. Confusion welled up inside of her. She was so certain that they'd looked the same. The man was even dressed in the same suit. That even looked like the same tie. "Have you got a brother?"
"No, not anymore." His wife reached over and squeezed his hand. Martha could have kicked herself for that.
"As time passes and I grow ever more infirm and weary, Miss Jones," Stocker said behind her.
She nearly jumped. Right, that had been a little unprofessional. Even if it had been him, his wife was meant to be her focus. And she's apparently touched on a difficult topic with the brother question. The blond woman, Rose, offered her an encouraging little smile.
"Sorry. Right." Martha placed her stethoscope against Rose's chest to listen to her heart and lungs. It all sounded normal. "Have the nurses done a pregnancy test?" she asked Rose.
"Immediately after we checked in," Rose confirmed. "Negative as I expected."
"Miss Jones?" Stocker pressed.
"Er, I don't know. Stomach cramps?"
"That is a symptom, not a diagnosis. And you rather failed basic techniques by not consulting first with the patient's chart." He reached for the chart clipped to the end of the bed only to receive an electric shock.
"That happened to me this morning," Martha said, recalling the sharp sting she's gotten from her locker despite the room being all tile and metal.
"I had the same thing on the door handle," Morgenstern added.
"And me, on the lift," Swales agreed.
"That's only to be expected," Stocker said calmly. "There's a thunderstorm moving in, and lightning is a form of static electricity, as was first proven by. Anyone?"
"Benjamin Franklin," Dr Tyler answered as his wife smiled.
"Correct," Stoker said as if the patient's husband was one of his students.
"My mate, Ben. That was a day and a half. I got rope burns off that kite, and then I got soaked."
"Quite," Stoker said slowly.
"And then I got electrocuted."
Mrs Tyler laughed and shook her head. "Sorry, he thinks he's funny."
The man pouted at his wife. "I am funny. You just laughed."
Stoker seemed to relax a little at the couple's banter. "Moving on," he said with a gesture for the students to follow. "And next we have…."
Martha glanced back at the couple who were leaning close together and speaking in low voices. Then the blonde woman glanced her way and offered her another smile. That made her feel a little better. Martha nodded and turned her focus back to Mr Stocker and the next patient.
When they finally finished the rounds, Martha retreated into the staff restroom along with Swales. While her fellow student went for coffee, Martha pulled out her phone and checked the messages. Tish was the most recent, and Martha quickly called up her sister. Their greetings lasted only for a few seconds before the issue of their dad, his girlfriend, and the night's party came up again.
"No, listen, I've worked out a plan," Martha told Tish. "We tell Annelise that the buffet tonight is one hundred per cent carbohydrate, and she won't turn up."
"I wish you'd take this seriously," Tish replied. Martha could hear the frustration in her sister's voice but wasn't sure what to do about it. "That's our inheritance she's spending on fake tan. Tell you what, I'm not that far away, I'll drop by for a sandwich, and we can draw up a battle plan."
Martha blinked and looked out the window. Thick raindrops were rolling down the glass and obscuring the city beyond. It was impressive, even to a Londoner.
"In this weather?" Martha asked. "I'm not going out. It's pouring down."
"It's not raining here." There was a pause, and then her sister's shocked voice added, "That's weird. It's raining right on top of you, I can see it, but it's dry where I am."
"Well, you just got lucky."
"No, but it's like in cartoons. You know, when a man's got a cloud over his head," Tish insisted.
"Yeah, but listen, I'll tell you what we'll do," Martha told herself to focus on the issue at hand. The rain wasn't important. "We tell Dad and Annalise to get there early, about seven thirty, and we tell Leo to get there at the same time so we can do all that birthday stuff. We tell Mum to get there for about eight-thirty, nine, and that gives me time to have a word with Annalise, and-" Someone touched Martha's arm. She turned quickly to find Swales beside her. "What?" Martha asked.
"The rain." Swales' voice was soft.
"It's only rain," Martha said.
"Martha, have you seen the rain?" Tish asked. There was something off about her sister's voice.
"Why's everyone fussing about rain?" Martha demanded into her phone.
"It's going up," Swales whispered.
"The rain is going up," Tish's voice answered.
Martha's eyes widened. They were right. The rain was going up, like a video of falling rain in reverse. A flash of lightning blinded Martha, and the building shuddered as a crack of thunder filled the air. But the shudder turned into a brutal shaking, sending Martha stumbling.
"What the hell was that?" Martha snapped. She brutally shoved the shock and panic trying to build in her chest down.
"Are you all right?" Swales asked her, reaching for Martha.
"I think so, yeah. It felt like an earthquake, or-"
She was cut off by a frightened sentence from Swales. "Martha? It's night. Look. It was lunchtime."
Stepping closer to the windows, Martha stared out of it. That rush of panic and worry was strangely fading away as realization, and a need for the world to make sense took its place. The sky outside was dark. Very dark. Almost completely free of light pollution, but it wasn't night. She took in the landscape outside too quickly for that.
"It's not night." Martha was amazed at how calm her voice was.
"But it's got to be. It's dark."
"We're on the moon." Martha nodded out the window to where the Earth hung over the black sky over the cratered surface of the moon.
"We can't be," Swales insisted. Panic was filling her voice, and Martha could only stare out the window as her own emotions started to go haywire.
"We're on the moon," Martha said again. "We're on the bloody moon."
She didn't have much time to take it all in. Other staff and even worse patients were creeping up to the windows. Low panicked chatter echoed around them. Lights were frantically switched on around them. Martha had a moment to wonder how that worked but was just grateful that it was. But more important was the people panicking at the realization of where they were.
Swallowing down her fear and dread, Martha spun away from the window. "All right now, everyone back to bed, we've got an emergency, but we'll sort it out." That was a lie. She had no idea how to even start, but panic was bad. Letting these people turn frantic was only going to make everything worse. "Don't worry."
Some of the patients listened and shifted back from the windows. Maybe it was her words or just the desire to be away from the windows. Either way, Martha was grateful. It gave her and Swales some space. She headed back to the window with Swales right behind her.
"It's real. It's really real." Martha wasn't sure what she was feeling. Reaching for the window latch, she told Swales. "Hold on."
"Don't!" Swales cried. "We'll lose all the air."
"But they're not exactly airtight. If the air was going to get sucked out, it would have happened straight away, but it didn't. So how come?"
There was the sound of a curtain being pulled back loudly behind them. Martha looked back, preparing to send a panicking patient back to bed. She found Dr Tyler on his feet and peering curiously at her. His wife was behind him, dressed in jeans and a red blouse. She sent Marth a smile while rapidly braiding her long blonde hair. The pair seemed very calm.
"Very good point. Brilliant, in fact," Dr Tyler said. "What was your name?"
"Martha."
"And it was Jones, wasn't it? Well then, Martha Jones, the question is, how are we still breathing?" Dr Tyler stalked forward with his wife right behind him.
"We can't be." Swales gasped.
"Obviously, we are, so don't waste my time."
"Doctor," Rose said softly. She touched his arm.
He huffed but turned his attention back to her with another word to Swales. "Martha, what have we got? Is there a balcony on this floor, or a veranda, or…"
"By the patients' lounge, yeah," Martha answered.
"Fancy going out?" Dr Tyler asked with a hint of a smile.
"Okay." Now Rose beamed at her.
"We might die," Dr Tyler said.
"We might not," Martha replied, looking between the pair.
"Good." Dr Tyler grinned at her. "Come on. Not her; she'd hold us up."
Swales made a small sound of hurt and alarm. Rose gave her husband a sharp look and stepped closer to Swales.
"Hey," Rose said gently. She took Swales' hand. "Look at me." Her voice was still kind but also carried a firm edge. "Focus on me." Swales obeyed, and Martha watched the raw panic in her colleague begin to fade a little. "We'll investigate this. You focus on what you can do. Check on the patients, and make sure that they're calm and being cared for. Alright?"
"Rose," the Doctor called softly with a hint of impatience. Though Martha saw a proud gleam in his eye as he watched the blonde. "We need to get moving."
"Alright," Swales managed. She kept her eyes away from the windows and released Rose's hands. Then she stepped away and strode down the corridor.
Rose turned and took the Doctor's outstretched hand with a slight smile and a confident air. Unsure of what else to do, Martha gestured for the pair to follow her and led them towards the patients' lounge. What they were looking for, she didn't know, but at least they weren't in a panic like Swales and some of the others. Martha was barely holding herself together as it was. But she focused on the immediate task. Check out the patient's lounge and appear calm for the patients around her.
When they reached the lounge, it was empty of patients. Martha was grateful for that as the Tylers stepped past her. They each reached for one of the doors that led out onto the small balcony. Rose looked back at Martha. She nodded in response, and the couple pushed open the doors. There was no rush of air out into space. In fact, even stepping outside of the hospital proper, Martha found herself still able to breathe.
"We've got air. How does that work?" Martha asked.
"Just be glad it does," Dr Tyler answered.
Martha stepped up to the bannister and stared at the Earth before her. It was beautiful. It was terrifying. It was so many things all at once that Martha was struggling to keep breathing. Then it all tried to crash down on her all at once.
"I've got a party tonight. It's my brother's twenty-first," Martha said softly. She wasn't sure why she bothered to say anything about it at all. "My mother's going to be really, really…"
"Are you alright?" Rose asked softly.
"Yeah."
"Sure?" Dr Tyler asked. Martha briefly wondered what his name was.
"Yeah."
"Want to go back in?" Dr Tyler asked her, nodding at the doors.
"No way," Martha's voice was stronger than she'd thought it would be. "I mean, we could die any minute, but all the same, it's beautiful."
"It is," Rose agreed. She leaned against the bannister beside Martha.
"How many people want to go to the moon?" Martha asked, nearly laughing. "And here we are."
"Standing in the Earthlight." Dr Tyler said. Martha saw him wrapping an arm around his wife in the corner of her eye but didn't look away from the Earth.
"What do you think happened?" Martha asked.
"What do you think?" Dr Tyler countered.
"Extraterrestrial. It's got to be." Martha felt daft as soon as she said the words, but they were all she could think about. "I don't know, a few years ago, that would have sounded mad, but these days? That spaceship flying into Big Ben and people on the roofs at Christmas with that ship over London."
Dr Tyler smirked and looked pointedly at his wife. Rose just rolled her eyes at him she an amused smile on her face. "We couldn't hide everything," Rose grumbled. "Those two were too big."
Martha wasn't sure what that comment meant. It sounded like… no, she pushed that madness away and cleared her throat. "I promise you, Dr and Mrs Tyler, we will find a way out. If we can travel to the moon, then we can travel back. There's got to be a way."
"Oh, just call him the Doctor," Rose said with a smile. "Just the Doctor. No Tyler."
"How do you mean, just the Doctor?"
"Just the Doctor," he said dryly. Then he began to move around the balcony and look around it carefully.
"What, people call you the Doctor?" Martha asked.
"Yeah."
"Well, I'm not. As far as I'm concerned, you've got to earn that title," Martha said firmly.
Rose blinked at her, but the Doctor smiled. "Well, I'd better make a start, then. Let's have a look. There must be some sort of…." He found a small rock, likely some part of the cement work that was falling apart and threw it out past Martha. It bounced off of something, making Martha gasp.
"Forcefield," Rose said. She sighed a little. "We're in a bubble. Must have grabbed the building, some of the atmosphere, and the emergency generators."
"Looks like," the Doctor agreed.
"But that means this is the only air we've got," Martha gasped. "What happens when it runs out?"
"How many people in this hospital?" the Doctor asked.
"I don't know. A thousand?" Martha answered.
"One thousand people... suffocating," the Doctor answered tightly.
"Oh, Guardians," Rose breathed. She shuddered.
"Why would anyone do that?" Martha asked. She couldn't think of any reason for a person to do that.
"Head's up!" the Doctor said. He nodded past Martha. "Ask them yourself."
She spun around to find three massive columnar spaceships passing overhead. Her breath caught. Martha remembered that strange feeling she'd had when watching the footage of a spaceship hitting Big Ben and then of that ship over London and people on the roof. That sense that the world was tilting and the only option was to adjust her own centre of gravity. The ships landed, and almost immediately, columns of marching aliens came out. They were heading for the hospital.
"Aliens," Martha gasped. "That's aliens. Real, proper aliens."
"Judoon," the Doctor said.
Rose groaned. "No," she whined. "Not them." She grimaced and looked at the Doctor. "Any idea how long their execution orders stand?"
Martha stared at her and the Doctor paused as he considered the question. "I'm not sure. When did they find you guilty of a crime?" Martha managed not to gape at the pair of them.
"Oh, it was something with Thane. Last year from now… I think." Rose shook her head. "Blimey, it's a bit complicated being in 2007."
Then the Doctor just beamed at her and grabbed her hand. Looking back at Martha, he nodded back into the building. "We need to check it out. What to come?"
"What?" Martha asked softly.
Rose smiled gently at her, patiently. "Martha, you study at this hospital often, right?"
"Yeah, it's my study assignment hospital."
"So you know the layout, the staff areas?" Rose asked. "I hate to ask, but we could really use a guide."
"Yeah." Martha nodded. That was reasonable. Swallowing, she pushed down the fear churning in her gut. These two… well, she didn't know who they were, not really, but they seemed to know a thing or two about aliens and this situation. If it meant getting home, then Martha was ready to give whatever help she could give. "This way. There's a staff stairwell we can use to the entryway. It'll be faster." Her mind made up, Martha led the couple to the quickest route she could think of.