Twists in Time

Chapter Eight: The Shakespeare Code: Witch Sighting

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.

….

Martha's stomach was twisting in knots as she stretched out on the narrow bed that she and Rose would be sharing. The other woman had helped her remove the heavier outer layer of her dress and directed her to return the favour. She was a bit more comfortable in that regard, but as she watched Rose take off her French hood, Martha couldn't help but worry.

These people… they were so strange. Even Shakespeare had noticed right away that they were something other. Martha knew they were good. At least she was very confident in that. They could have just left the hospital to die, but instead, they had put themselves in danger to help. The Doctor had almost died, in fact.

But Rose had casually dismissed talk about other lives and having memories from them; she'd commented that she was probably older than the Doctor. Martha had no idea how old he was. He looked like he was in his thirties, but he was an alien so that probably didn't really match up. Jack was… he was from another time and not completely human by her standards. Three very strange people, and she'd just run off with them. Her stomach tightened further, and Martha kept her eyes on Rose. Questions burned at the tip of her tongue, but Martha was worried about going further down this road tonight. Plus, she was very tied.

The small candle didn't provide much illumination as Rose lay down beside her. Martha could hear the muffled voices of Jack and the Doctor through the wall. Rose chuckled and looked at her.

"The Doctor doesn't sleep much compared to humans. And Jack can push himself for some time without sleep, so they may be talking for a while yet. If they get too loud, you can knock on the wall." Rose studied her for a moment. "You alright?"

"Just thinking."

"It's been a lot today. Given that earlier, you were on the moon and then came straight here with us."

"Yeah." Martha had almost forgotten that all of it was the same day. They had a time machine, had it been the same day to them. She didn't ask. "Guess I am really tired."

"Alright." Rose's voice was careful, cautious. "It's alright to be a bit overwhelmed, you know."

"Were you on your first trip?"

"Uh…" Rose hesitated. "No, not in the way you're thinking. I've known the Doctor and aliens for a long time. I encountered a nasty one that was hunting my friends when I was just a kid. Met the Doctor when he saved me, and then the next day, I saved him." Rose smiled softly at the memory. "Then things kept happening. All on Earth, and I just learned how to deal. By the time that I left Earth to travel with the Doctor, I had finished university and worked at UNIT, uh, the Unified Intelligence Taskforce, helping them deal with aliens, for four years under contract."

Martha had no idea what to focus on there first. It was all so mad. "You met when you were a kid?"

Rose grimaced. "Yeah. I know that's a little weird, given our relationship now, but time travel can be like that. It was only a couple of days to him before we met again, but years to me." Rose shrugged. "But he was a good friend. I trusted him and didn't have to worry about him thinking I was mad when I talked. Shared experience and values are important in a relationship. I lacked that with most other people."

That did make sense. It was still weird to Martha, but given how difficult this all was for her, even after seeing rhino aliens on the moon and travelling in time, she could see Rose's point. Martha studied Rose's profile. She was pretty. Blonde and fit. Yet Martha couldn't shake that odd sense that Rose was dangerous. Then she remembered that weird sword she'd seen on the moon.

"You have a sword?"

"Oh, yeah." Rose's lips curved into a smile. "My bracelet turns into a sword. It's a long story, but it marks me as part of an ancient order established by the White Guardian. He's, uh, a cosmic being that I work with. Anyway, the sword has a link to me and can cut through basically anything, depending on what I want it to do. Pretty handy in bad situations though I try not to rely on it or hurt living beings if that can be avoided."

"White Guardian," Martha repeated. "You and Jack both say oh Guardians instead of oh God."

"I suppose we do." Rose chuckled at the observation. "Well… I know that they exist. They watch over the universe, to an extent, at least. I prefer the Doctor's method of bouncing around and helping where you can. That's more my speed." Rose inhaled slowly. "But try to get some sleep, Martha. I get that you have questions, and it's been a lot, but trust me, we'll probably need rest for what tomorrow brings."

Something in Martha hissed like a cat at the dismissal, even as part of her recognized that it was wise advice. If Rose and the Doctor were right about something targeting Shakespeare and maybe the Globe, then tomorrow would likely be mad. She nodded and settled as best she could into the bed before Rose rolled to the side and blew out the candle, plunging them into darkness.

Closing her eyes, Martha tried to calm her thrumming mind. There were so many pieces of the puzzle scattered around her. Both about her new companions and Shakespeare. Was it really like this all the time? What had they meant by the London Eye? It certainly sounded like a joke. Rose's words about working for UNIT during university rang in her mind. According to Rose, that overlapped with when they'd picked her up.

"Go to sleep," Rose whispered with a hint of amusement.

"There's just so much…." Martha opened her eyes.

"Yeah, there is. There always is. But some sleep helps. I'm sure you're professors taught you that."

Chuckling, Martha closed her eyes again and started counting sheep as she imagined them jumping over a hedge. Of course, she knew from a trip out to the country that sheep weren't that spry, but it did help. Somehow, she slipped off to sleep.

Movement on the bed woke Martha sometime later. Rose was climbing out of bed by the light of her phone's torch. Confusion and worry warred in Martha before her medical school-driven inability to manage without much sleep kicked in.

"Rose, are you alright?"

"Yeah…" Rose didn't sound at all certain of that.

"Rose? Are you sick? We did drink some of that beer earlier; it might have had bad water in it. If you're feeling ill-"

"It's not that," Rose said. "Something is wrong. I can feel it. I'm just gonna go check on Shakespeare."

Martha climbed to her feet, ignoring Rose's soft protests for her to rest. It would have been impossible to simply sleep now. Glancing at the Doctor and Jack's room, Martha wondered if she should wake them. The Doctor and Jack both seemed very protective. But she stayed close to Rose, and they peered into Shakespeare's room. The man was at his desk with his fingers frantically moving a quill over a page. Beside him, with their back to her and Rose, was a female figure. Rose shivered while Martha started to relax.

"What are you doing to him?" Rose demanded. She strode into the room, not waiting any longer. "Enough!"

The figure spun around to face Rose. There was a soft inhale from Rose, but she was blocking Martha's view. Rose tensed and put her hands on the doorframe, now physically blocking both her way in and the intruder's way out.

"I'll take this to aid my flight, and you shall speak no more this night." Came a grave voice inside the room.

Martha saw a flash of gold as Rose's sword appeared. The figure drew back sharply. Rose dashed into the room.

"Stop!"

Shakespeare woke with a start, and Martha caught sight of the figure throwing themselves out the window. Rushing to the window, Martha stared out with widening eyes. A witch was flying through the night sky, silhouetted against the full moon. Martha just caught the sound of them cackling. She stared at the vanishing figure, her mouth hanging open a little as the Doctor's words not long ago echoed in her head. Witchcraft, he'd said.

"Rose?" Martha called. "Did that really just…"

"Yeah." Rose nodded beside her, and that made Martha feel a little better.

"What did you see?" the Doctor asked, hurrying over to them.

"A witch."

"A witch?" Jack repeated. He was beside them for a moment, peering outside. "What is going on here? Why were you two awake?"

"Give us some space," Rose murmured.

The Doctor and Jack shifted back, letting Rose and Martha move away from the window. Rose shifted closer to the Doctor and touched his arm. Martha couldn't help but notice how much he visibly relaxed at the small gesture. She tried to remember if she'd ever seen anything like that with her parents, but Martha couldn't. Then Rose turned her attention to Shakespeare.

"Are you alright?" Rose asked.

"I'm not sure what happened; I was woken by your shout." Shakespeare shook his head. "And I glimpsed that figure…"

"What's going on, Will?" Dolly asked. The blonde woman was standing in the doorway of the room. She was still holding a broom and frowned at all of them. "I finish cleaning, and there's a blooming party up here."

"Peace, please, Dolly," Shakespeare said gently. He held up a hand and gave the blond woman a tired smile. "Someone was trespassing in my rooms and…" he trailed off.

"It was that serving girl," Rose said. She turned back to Dolly. "The one who was up here earlier. She looked… it was her."

"That's not a problem then," Dolly said with a hint of impatience. "Lilith must have been finishing her chores. Mind you, I thought she'd left a while ago." Then Dolly looked around with suspicious confusion. "But are you really saying that she jumped out the window?" Dolly laughed. "I think you all need more sleep. Jumping at nightmares by the sound of things."

Martha was going to argue, but Rose smiled slowly and exhaled. "You're probably right. Sorry about that, Madame. We'll calm down and return to bed."

"Sit with me awhile," Shakespeare said quickly. Despite their assurances to Dolly, Martha could tell that he was confused but also curious. He smiled at the landlady. "Forgive me, dearest Dolly. It seems that perhaps my creative energy spilt forth this night to affect others."

She snorted softly and glanced around curiously. But she nodded and left. Martha released a soft exhale of relief. She wasn't sure why, but after the mysterious drowning on land, she had the feeling that anything else strange might get them all in trouble. How dangerous was a charge of witchcraft? The Doctor had said that people would believe that. She was tempted to believe it herself. Did they really burn people over that?

The Doctor moved to Shakespeare's desk. Visible confusion and unease were on the man's face, and Martha tried not to think about the fact that they'd only come in because Rose had a strange feeling. Still, Shakespeare quickly composed himself and peered at the Doctor.

"Did you see or hear anything?" the Doctor asked Shakespeare. "Anything at all?"

"Not until I heard your wife shout," Shakespeare answered. "And I did not turn in time to see the flight of the trespasser." He stood and rubbed the back of his neck. "I am grateful that Dolly did not stumble upon whatever darkness that creature was seeking to inflict."

"You believe us then?" Martha asked in surprise.

Shakespeare's gaze shifted to Rose, who was studying him. "Yes, I find that I do, though I have no notion of why a witch might have interest in me. I am a writer. A writer of some success, to be sure, but I don't dabble in the things men ought not." He nodded at Rose. "Not like your lady there."

"I'm not a witch," Rose answered calmly.

"No, I do not think so, but you are more than you appear. You sensed it in this room, did you now?"

"Rose, what woke you up?" the Doctor asked. He shifted closer to Rose, positioning himself between her and Shakespeare. "Did you hear something?"

"No. I just woke up with an uneasy feeling in my chest. I could feel that something was wrong and wanted to check on Shakespeare." Rose shifted as she spoke, glancing at Shakespeare with a hint of nervousness.

At the words, Jack shifted behind Shakespeare and reached for his wrist. He was using whatever device he had there to scan again or something. Shakespeare started to turn, so Martha stepped closer to the desk where he sat.

"Whatever is going on is definitely connected with you," Martha told Shakespeare.

"Are you accusing me of something, good lady?"

"No," Martha said quickly. "But I saw a witch, big as you like, flying, cackling away, and you've written about witches."

"I have? When was that?"

"Not, not quite yet," the Doctor said, turning his attention back to her.

"Peter Streete spoke of witches," Shakespeare said.

"Who's Peter Street?" the Doctor asked.

"Our builder. He sketched the plans to the Globe."

"The architect. Hold on. The architect! The architect! The Globe! Come on!" The Doctor started to rush for the door, leaving the other four to follow in his wake. "Rose, you were right! Something is using the Globe as its transmitter!"

Martha noted that Shakespeare was watching Rose with sharp interest as Rose called for the Doctor to wait. It was a strange look. By rights, Shakespeare should not believe that something had happened in the room. He woke up in a daze and hadn't seen the witch. Yet… he seemed to believe them. Especially Rose. Martha had noted that the older woman had a way about her, but it seemed to be something more. Martha wondered what Shakespeare was seeing that she wasn't. Rose huffed and reminded the Doctor that she and Martha needed to redress, or they'd cause a scandal. At that, Shakespeare laughed.

"No sure about that, Rosie," Jack teased. "They'd all probably enjoy it too much."

"By the time we are properly ready, it will be light out," Rose retorted. "And that will make things easier."

"Alright, just hurry!" The Doctor called. He was twitching with impatient energy. "I need to see the Globe! Knowing the transmitter type can help narrow down what we're dealing with."

"Still doesn't explain their interest in Will," Jack said as Martha followed Rose into the small bedroom.

They pulled back on the outer gowns quickly while listening to Jack, Shakespeare, and the Doctor talk. Shakespeare asked some questions, that the other two men stepped around. Martha was quiet as Rose quickly braided her hair again before tucking it back under the French hood. Something very strange was happening, and Rose was completely calm.

"Do you want to return to the TARDIS?" Rose asked gently. "We don't know what that witch is or how dangerous they might be."

"No," Martha answered. "I'm fine. I'll stay with you. I'd like to help." She tried not to think about how brilliant that hot spark of excitement mixed with fear felt in her chest. "Not every day you meet witches while meeting William Shakespeare."

For some reason, Rose laughed at her statement.