This was not what I expected to happen when I'd left London after falling to my death.
"Exterminate!"
"Delete! Delete!"
I cursed under my breath, ducking into the darkness of a nearby alley and shimmying up a fire escape to avoid any pursuers. I laid down on the grating, ignoring how it irritated a laser burn on my thigh and the dark bruising on my arm. If I tried to go to the roof, I'd just be a bigger target. Laying here was a better decision. Movement attracted attention and they were already stomping into the alleyway.
What a pain in the ass. First an alien invasion, now robots shaped like people and pepper pots? I knew those ghost things weren't right, but getting dragged into Torchwood trying to stop them would've been an even worse decision. I sighed, rolling over onto my back once I was sure they'd passed through without seeing me. I grimaced as I stared up at the clouded sky streaked with flying machines and tinted red from ongoing fires.
Closing my eyes only forced me to listen to those screaming in pain and mourning, reminding me of the howls of wounded soldiers from the wars I'd been involved in, or the few times I tried working as a doctor. I sat up abruptly, slightly out of breath and shaking as I forced myself through the minor panic attack as best I could. They came more often in situations like this. Times when I was forced to remember things I'd done or had seen.
Looking out over war-torn France didn't help matters, but I needed to focus. I wouldn't survive while thinking about the past. Immortal or not, my ultimate plan was to die as few times as possible. I'd spent far too much of this new life not caring or not having the experience needed, so now was the time to make up for it. Either I find the source of all this and shut it down—drawing unwanted attention, possibly dying in the process, and risking getting caught by Torchwood again—or I find the most isolated area possible and just… hide… like a coward.
A grumble of complaint escaped me and I climbed down the ladder. Who am I kidding? Haven't I served enough? Being a coward… It can't be that bad. I've done my time helping. I don't even know where to start looking for the source. So, I should just—My mind pulled to a stop at the sight of a little girl standing in the road crying over a corpse with a stuffed rabbit in her hand dragging on the ruined concrete. Stomping could be heard nearby, as could the hum of the flying pepper pots. She won't last a second.
"An angel indeed."
I cursed as Abe's final words flickered through my head, sprinting out into the road as fast as my battered body was able and grabbing the girl just as a laser flew towards her. I better not regret this.
I let out a groan involuntarily as I flexed my fingers and brought a hand up to my head. Something clattered to the ground nearby but I paid it no attention as I managed to push myself up off the metal table I was lying on. My vision spun a little, as it tended to do after I died, and I gave my body a second to remember how to function properly. Once my vision had settled and I could look across the room without the light burning my retinas, I spotted a man in blue scrubs on the ground staring at me with wide eyes full of shock.
I blinked, a little confused since his gaze was focused solely on me and his scalpel lay abandoned on the ground near his feet. A quick look down at my naked torso—marred by a puffy, pink "Y" incision—and a look around the sterile room, where a corpse in the middle of an autopsy was waiting, allowed understanding to dawn on me.
"Shit. Again?"
The man's eyes rolled up into his head and I sighed, gingerly sliding off the table and pulling the white sheet with me in an attempt at modesty while I searched for my clothes and belongings. At least he didn't scream and alert the entire hospital staff that someone who was very much dead just stood up after an autopsy. I found my things and began slipping them back on, scowling at my poor shirt and coat that now sported a rather large burn hole clear through the right side.
A patch of pink, healed skin on my own side marked where I'd been killed by a flying pepper pot creature, but I pulled the clothes on nonetheless and took the time to gather anything showing my presence and stuffing it in my pocket for later disposal. I'd rather he believe he imagined the whole thing than have someone look into this. I rubbed the back of my neck which was still tight with tension from my death and stepped out of the morgue to find the exit before someone questioned me and my ragged attire.
As I walked, I slipped out a small journal and fountain pen, checking it still had ink in it before writing what I remembered up until my death. What a mess. I should find out how long I've been dead this time around. The more damage done, the longer it takes to get back up. I put the journal back into my pocket and found the nearest patient who I could question about the most recent alien attack.
"A year ago? You're certain?" I asked, rather stunned.
"Yeah. Happened in July sometime," the older woman responded with a shrug. "Hospital was in a panic and everything. They're saying it was aliens. What rubbish."
"Yeah. Rubbish," I muttered, thanking her and moving away towards a nurse's station. That can't be right. I've never been out for more than a few days. A week at most. If it's been a year, I should've been buried or—
I was quick to cut myself off there, not wanting to think of how cremation would work on someone who didn't die. Instead, I found a nurse at her station, being careful to hide the hole in my coat and the damage on my side that twinged on occasion despite being healed.
"Hi, would you mind helping me with something? I'm wondering if there was a… a Jane Doe admitted about a year ago? A coma patient perhaps. She was caught in the whole alien thing and I thought she might have died?"
The nurse hummed and got up, grabbing a binder from a filing case before handing it to me. "Check through there. It's a list of everyone who was admitted during the incident with descriptions of them and their belongings. Just the ones who passed, though. You'd have to talk to the police station for those who are alive and out of our care."
I nodded and smiled politely before taking it to the side and flipping through the binder. My body began to ache more the longer I was standing there searching, but I pushed through it until I found one description that may have matched my own. Dyed black hair, blue eyes, coat, journal, sounds about right. Says here… ah, that would explain it. They resuscitated me. I was actually alive but in a coma until two days ago. That explains why I'm still so damn sore. Body didn't get a chance to rest and recover properly because they brought me back.
I thanked the nurse and returned the binder before running a hand through my hair and settling in a patient's lounge for a minute to rest. Damn. A whole year? I mean, it was probably middling. Just glad I managed to get that kid safe before I got hit bad enough to die. I massaged my scalp searching for any signs of my head injury the flying pepper pot had caused when I helped that kid in France but it was gone along with all other minor injuries from before my death.
That was apparently how being immortal worked for me. Scars only remained from my fatal encounters and everything else vanished once I died. Broken bones were repaired, burns healed, cuts, scrapes, abscesses, whatever. Even the fatal wounds were healed up mostly but they always left scars. And psychological trauma but I'd rather not dwell on that. The nightmares and twitchy fingers are enough of a reminder.
Said fingers were already drumming on my bouncing thigh and would occasionally come up and tug at my ear—something I'd gotten cut off ages back and had never quite forgotten. The habit came out whenever I was a bit stressed or sat still for a while. Just reminding myself what happens when I hang around for too long.
"Better go," I muttered. "Before the coroner wakes up and spots me."
I stood and started for the door only for the ground to suddenly quake. I paled, grabbing a firm hold of the door jam and bracing myself as the earthquake rocked the hospital and patients and staff screamed. Clenching my eyes shut and gritting my teeth tight, I tried to focus on my breathing and not the memories that the screaming dragged forward.
The sharp crack of gunshots echoing across a barren wasteland.
Cries of wounded soldiers and horses lasting far into the night.
Fires burning and crackling as women sobbed for children lost in the burning rubble.
"—all right?"
I dragged in a ragged breath at the feeling of someone's hand on my shoulder. I nodded to the stranger, muttering that I just needed a moment and lightening my grip on the door jam that turned my knuckles white. A few more steady breaths allowed me the ease to look up and see what the others in the room were panicking over. I had expected the fallen objects and nurses attempting to quiet more startled people, but not the darkened skies outside and the sheer chaos of everyone inside.
N-Now that I think about it, an earthquake of that magnitude in the middle of Britain? That just doesn't happen and there was no windup to that. No subtle shaking or rolling. That was just… too abrupt. I started towards the double doors that would lead out to a balcony—eyes focused on the dark sky beyond. That, and it was daytime, wasn't it? I might not have looked out the window but the hospital was too busy for it to be night. Something is just not… right.
My hand pressed to the glass doors as my breath left me once more. The darkness of space was spread out before me, scattered with stars and out in the distance a picturesque image of planet Earth. The panic happening behind me was understandable now. We were in space. Somehow almost instantly transported into the vastness of space.
"And still breathing," I muttered to myself, pushing the door open and slipping out to grasp the edge of the balcony as I tried to draw some sort of sense back into myself. "Well, shit. This is new. Over two millenias and this hasn't happened before."
I leaned over the railing a bit, eyeing the grey soil we were on and humming.
"I expected to get here eventually, but landing on the moon in 2007 was a bit sooner than I thought. Humans couldn't do this. No way. So that leaves…" I trailed off, lifting my gaze with a groan. "Aliens again? Damn London. I knew I should've stayed in France."
I groaned and ran a hand through my hair, grumbling about aliens just as a ship poised itself to land outside. Chin resting on my arms, I watched as long files of apparent soldiers stepped out, too far away for me to get a proper view of what they really looked like other than having two arms, two legs, and a single head. Joy. Should I bother trying to reason with them? It's not my job but I'd really rather I didn't die again so soon after this last time. Suffocating on the moon doesn't sound like fun.
"Suppose it'll be just like drowning but without the water," I muttered, having experienced that death at least once before.
Pushing myself away from the balcony, I dragged myself downstairs. While it was possible the aliens were friendly, I doubted it and since my death would either be by their weapons or by suffocating, I decided attempting to help the people in the hospital would be the best choice. Not like anyone else is going to ask what they want. Humans are always too cautious… or stupid. I stepped out of the stairwell onto the ground level and picked my way through some of the still-panicking patients to reach the front lobby in time for the aliens to step through. They were decked out in leather-like armor, wearing solid helmets with small slits for them to see through and what looked almost like a skirt. My lip twitched up in mild amusement at that but I pushed back the slight bit of laughter as the crowd of people in front of me began screaming and running for their lives. I winced at the noise, shooting a glare at a particular woman who was screeching at a pitch that was far too high to be humanly possible.
Shaking my head with a sigh, I faced the group of aliens—being the only one standing—and searched through them for the possible leader. As the creatures spread out, I noticed one standing still at the center, watching it until it pulled off its helmet. I blinked in mild surprise at the rhino-shaped head as its ears turned and flicked at every noise.
"Bo, sco, fo, do. No, kro, blo, co, sho, ro!" It ordered and the other creatures drew weapons, adding to the panic in the room.
I rubbed the back of my neck and stepped forward, drawing the leader's attention and the weapons to me. I lifted my hands in surrender but remained calm. Not many things really scared me anymore. Those pepper pot things were worse than these guys. They aren't shooting right away, so they must want something.
"Do you speak English?" I asked and the leader stomped forward, grabbing my coat and holding me in place, but not yet harming me.
It shoved a device in front of my mouth and I gave it a glance.
"A translator, I hope?"
The device repeated my words and the rhino pressed it to his chest.
"Language assimilated," he declared in English, confirming my assumption. "Designation: Earth English. You will be cataloged."
A trickle of unease went down my spine as he lifted a different device up to my forehead.
"Oh, dear. This might be problematic," I muttered, wondering what would come up when I was being scanned.
"Category: human," it paused then, ears flicking back. "Error. Non-human elements detected."
"Announce it to the world, why don't you," I grunted, wincing as it grabbed my clothes once more, shoving me back against a wall and scanning again.
"Secondary scan. Category: human with genetic mutation. Fugitive match, negative."
"Oh, well, that's good," I replied as he released me and marked the back of my hand with an "X." "You're looking for a fugitive?"
"Assumption, correct."
An alien fugitive hidden in a human hospital. Wouldn't be the first time something alien was blending in a little too well. "Someone hidden then. So, scanning everyone would be a way to find them. A bit slow-going—"
The creature huffed out its nose, ears flicking back as I chuckled awkwardly.
"But effective, of course. Working from the bottom up, as it were."
It shoved a piece of paper towards me and I took it curiously, not able to understand the written language on it, which was new. Having lived as long as I have, I knew most of the languages in the world. Even a few that weren't being used anymore.
"What's this?"
"Compensation," the creature grunted, turning to the rest. "Catalogue all suspects."
The rest of the soldiers went around scanning and marking off the people in the lobby as a sole doctor spoke up to try and calm the patients and guests. I spotted movement then, on the upper level that was visible from the lobby, and felt a bit surprised to spot a familiar face watching from up above. Is that…? He spotted me then, eyes going wide and I numbly lifted my hand in a wave.
He went to say something only to stop as a woman beside him asked him something. He responded to her and I took that time to wonder what I should do. I died in front of him. Not exactly in front of him, but fell far enough that no human would survive. With this new development of being scanned as human with a mutation, he might want to figure that out. A chill went down my spine at the dark memories that brought up, making me hesitant as to possibly meeting up with him now, after dying. It was rare that anyone saw me a second time after a death. Those who did only reacted a few ways, none of which were good.
My hand reached up to rub at my neck. There was a pale scar wrapped around it—caused by a death I'd rather forget—but that had nothing to do with the tightening of my throat. The unease was still there though, even when I looked up to find that the Doctor was absent from his perch. He was decent when I met him before though. He had assumptions about me, I'm sure, and he's an alien so would he really care? I still didn't feel comfortable though and sighed. I'll just wander and if we bump into one another, I'll deal with it then.
The leader of the creatures spotted me heading for the stairs and stepped in my way.
"Halt. Leaving this area is restricted by order of the Judoon."
At least I have a species name now. "All right. Here." I handed him the compensation paper, making him frown. "You said that was compensation, right? I'm turning it in to be compensated."
"Compensation had been paid," he argued, trying to give it back.
"It's not proper compensation if I can't use it. I'm trying to make it easy for you. Let me wander freely and I'll help you look for your fugitive. Then, my compensation will be paid."
He looked confused but soon grunted with a nod. "Conditions accepted. Any sign of the fugitive will be given to the Judoon. Compensation paid."
I smiled. "Perfect. I'll let you know if I see anything."
They're not very bright, are they? Though, I'm not your everyday haggler. I know my way around a deal after a few millenias of bartering. Suppose I should help find the fugitive though if only to avoid suffocating to death again. Just the thought had me clearing my throat to ease the tightness and I started my idle walk up to the next floor. Wonder what sort of fugitive led to dragging a hospital up to the moon…
Of course, it wasn't long before I bumped into the Doctor anyway. He was running towards me, hand-in-hand with the woman I'd seen him speaking to before. I blinked in mild surprise before leaning to the side, peering around behind them, and spotting the leather-clad man storming after them.
"I'm sorry. Are you running from a motorcyclist?" I questioned as the Doctor ran up, not expecting him to grab me by the wrist as well.
"Just run!"
I was pulled down the hall and towards the stairwell, ending up getting yanked to a halt as the Judoon stomping up the stairs caused the Doctor to turn around. I grunted upon being pulled with him, keeping up relatively well, though feeling the ache in my body the longer we went. My body is still struggling to deal with my recent death and subsequent autopsy, though it's not the first time I've had to run after dying. We ducked into a radiology room and the Doctor shoved me and the other woman behind a shielded area.
"When I say 'now' press the button."
"But I don't know which one!" The woman called out as the Doctor went to fiddle with the X-Ray machine.
"Then, find out!"
I rolled my eyes with a sigh, wrapping an arm around my side and rubbing at the ache from where I'd been killed that was throbbing lightly after the run. "What are you doing?" I asked the Doctor as the motorcyclist pounded on the door.
"Increasing the radiation," he grunted out, using a pen-like device on the X-ray machine as the woman over with me frantically flipped through manuals.
"You're going to kill him?"
"It's not a real person. I'll explain in a minute!" He said, turning the machine towards the door in time for the motorcyclist to burst in. "Now!"
The woman beside me hadn't found what she wanted, staring at the many buttons and switches on the panel in front of us in confusion. Thankfully, I've done a little bit of everything in the hospital. I reached out and slapped a large yellow button, turning the machine on long enough to send the motorcyclist to the ground, dead. The Doctor let out a small sigh of relief as the woman beside me frowned.
"How did you know what to push?"
"I've worked in a hospital before," I replied. "Plus, most machines tend to make the on-off switch the biggest, most obvious button for emergencies."
She opened her mouth but stopped, shaking her head as I stepped out from behind the shielding, eyeing the collapsed person on the ground and she turned to the Doctor. "What did you do?"
"Increased the radiation by 5000%. Killed him dead."
"But isn't that gonna kill you?"
"Nah, it's only Rontgen radiation. We used to play with Rontgen bricks."
"Cute," I drawled, earning a cheeky grin from him as the woman slipped out from behind the shielding as well. "Where's it all go? The radiation?"
"I've absorbed it all. Just need to expel it," he said, starting to almost dance as he bounced around on his feet. "If I concentrate I can shake the radiation out of my body and into one spot. It's in my left shoe. Here we go, here we go. Easy does it. Out, out, out, out, out. Out, out. Ah, ah, ah, ah! It is, it is, it is, it is, it is hot. Hold on." He pulled off his shoe and tossed it into a radiation bin. "Done."
"You're completely mad," the woman beside me commented and I folded my arms over my chest, nodding towards her.
"I'm gonna have to agree with her on this one."
"You're right," he agreed surprisingly. "I look daft with one shoe." He tossed his other shoe in the bin and wiggled his toes. "Barefoot on the moon."
I snorted at his childish antics while the woman went to prod at the leather man on the ground.
"What is that thing? Where's it from, the planet Zovirax?"
I raised a brow at the name, mouthing it in confusion as the Doctor went over too.
"Just a Slab. They're called Slabs. Basic slave drones, you see. Solid leather all the way through. Someone has got one hell of a fetish."
"But it was that woman, Miss Finnegan. It was working for her just like a servant," she informed as the Doctor moved back towards me and pulled his pen device out of the machine with a whine.
"My sonic screwdriver."
"Your what?" I questioned as the woman continued and the Doctor kept whining.
"She was a patient—"
"Burnt out my sonic screwdriver."
"She had this straw, like some sort of vampire—"
I turned to her when she said that, but the Doctor hadn't noticed.
"I love my sonic screwdriver!"
"Doctor!" She finally snapped and he tossed the "beloved" pen over his shoulder with a grin.
"Sorry. You called me Doctor!"
"Anyway?" She stopped then, pointing at me. "Who is she?"
"Rude," I grumbled, giving the Doctor a look. "What is it with the decline of decency in the human population? I swear it gets worse every century."
He tipped his head with a small hum in agreement but explained. "I met her a year or so ago. Martha Jones, Marley Russell."
Thankfully I hadn't had time to learn the new name I made for myself in France. "Pleasure," I hummed idly.
"Are you two like partners or something?"
I snorted, waving a hand and ignoring the pout the Doctor aimed my way. "No, no. Absolutely not. We bumped into each other briefly at Christmas, is all. We're acquaintances at best."
"Though we're bumping into each other quite a bit, I think. Qualifies us as friends at least, doesn't it?" He argued, earning a raised brow from me.
We hardly know each other… Is he just asking to be friends in some weird roundabout way? "Um… sure. If you like."
He grinned, pleased with that response it seemed, as Martha sighed.
"Look. Miss Finnegan is the alien. She was drinking Mister Stoker's blood."
"Like a leech?" I questioned, confused, but the Doctor seemed to understand.
"Funny time to take a snack. You'd think she'd be hiding. Unless. No. Yes, that's it. Wait a minute. Yes! Shape-changer. Internal shape-changer. She wasn't drinking blood, she was assimilating it. If she can assimilate Mister Stoker's blood, mimic the biology, she'll register as human. We've got to find her and show the Judoon. Come on!"
We started rushing down the halls but didn't get far before the Doctor grabbed me and pulled me against his chest around the corner, hiding me from a second leather-clad figure.
"That's the thing about Slabs," he grunted, eyeing it as it walked past us. "They always travel in pairs."
"Yes, that's lovely and all, but would you mind letting me go now?" I complained, frowning and blowing a tuft of hair out of my face before he realized he'd pulled me into him and still had an arm wrapped around my stomach.
"Ah, right. Sorry." He smiled sheepishly and let me go as we stood up.
"And you two really aren't working together or anything?" Martha pressed, eyeing me with a frown. "You haven't got back-up or anything?"
The Doctor rolled his eyes. "Oh. Humans. We're stuck on the moon running out of air with Judoon and a bloodsucking criminal, you're asking personal questions? Come on."
"I like that. Humans. I'm still not convinced you're an alien."
"Oh, you'd be surprised," I muttered just as the Doctor rounded the corner and walked right into the Judoon Platoon.
"Non-human," the lead rhino alien declared and the Doctor winced as Martha gaped at him in shock.
"Oh my God, you really are."
"And again," the Doctor drawled, grabbing her this time and leaving me as I held up my hands before the Judoon to hold them off from immediately killing him.
"Now, hold on, the criminal you're looking for isn't him."
"Explain. Scans indicate non-human."
"Yeah, but whoever you're looking for isn't the only non-human on Earth. So, unless you want more paperwork to do for killing someone innocent, might I suggest listening. I have information for you."
The creature huffed a sharp breath out its nose and its ears flicked back but the gun in its hand was lowered.
"The creature you're looking for is disguised as an older woman called Miss Finnegan. She drinks blood to appear human. Is there something you can do to scan past that?"
"Scans will be increased to level two," the Judoon ordered, looking to those behind him who grunted and fiddled with their guns.
"Level two doesn't hurt anyone, does it?"
"Negative. Level two scans function at the molecular level. Injury to humans is nonexistent."
"Just… Just making sure," I replied, glancing behind me but seeing no sign of the Doctor. "I would double-check those you've already scanned. Anyone older than forty. I'll look as well and let you know if I find her."
He huffed, writing me off as he gave orders to his men and stormed off with them. I scratched the back of my head, not really sure what to do now other than wander again. But what would an alien do now? They're basically cornered, aren't they? Stuck on the moon with no way out other than the Judoon ships and—
"Oh," I muttered, realization dawning on me. "They're gonna kill everyone here and escape on the Judoon ships. Quickest way to do that would be…"
I racked my brain, trying to think about the last time I was in a hospital and what could possibly make an explosion big enough to wipe out the building. Although, I will admit the few times I was working in a hospital weren't exactly recent. Think.
"Explosion requires power, requires energy. Ah! The MRI!" I blurted out, searching for the nearest nurse or doctor and grabbing them. "What level is the MRI on?"
"U-Um, the next one down. Why?"
"No reason," I blurted out, rushing through the hallway as they shouted about restricted access and I skidded around the corner straight into a leather-clad figure. "Oh. Hello there."
I went to back up, but the creature grabbed me and shoved me into the wall, holding me there as I grimaced and spotted the older woman by its side.
"Oh, the Judoon are thick if they haven't found you already," I grunted out as she eyed me with a sickly sweet smile.
"You're the one who ratted me out to them about my disguise, weren't you?"
"And of course, you overheard us. I'd say, 'God smite me now' except I've become rather atheist as of late." Dying repeatedly does that.
"Take her. We'll deal with her somewhere more private. Can't have them finding us now. Not when we're so close to escaping."
I was pulled off the wall and my arm twisted up my back as the Slab led me through the halls, grumbling under my breath. "Yeah, definitely not staying in London this time 'round. I'll try somewhere warmer, fewer aliens. Australia sounds fun. Don't think I've died by snakebite yet, though vampiric shape-shifter is definitely a first. Should I start making up badges for this? Like a Boy-Scout? Death-By-Alien-Vampire, Death-By-Alien-Pepper-Pot, Death-By-Falling-Off-Alien-Spaceship. I'd be the highest tier badge-earner of my own club."
I was brought into the MRI room and shoved onto the ground on my knees, arm released but the Slab's firm grip on my shoulders kept me still. The woman started messing with the MRI machine, causing bright sparks to go off as I waited impatiently. At least I was right about the MRI thing. Best way to blow up a hospital, I suppose, given the right adjustments. I sighed softly, awaiting my fate and wrinkling my nose as I started to feel the effects of the slowly depleting oxygen. Ah, I suppose it's not so bad. Drowning was definitely worse. This feels like slowly falling asleep, but knowing I'm still going to die kind of puts a damper on it.
"Three times within a year," I murmured under my breath solemnly. "That's the last time I stick up for humanity. Self-preservation and laziness is the goal for my next life."
The door clattered open then and I turned my head, raising a brow at the Doctor who walked into the room and suddenly pointed behind him loudly.
"Have you seen them? There are these things. These great big space rhino things. I mean, rhinos from space. And we're on the moon! Great big space rhinos with guns on the moon. And I only came in for my bunions, look. I mean, all fixed now. Perfectly good treatment. The nurses were lovely. I said to my wife, I said I'd recommend this place to anyone, but then we end up on the moon. And did I mention the rhinos?"
"My word, do you breathe?" I questioned him, making him turn in surprise before Miss Finnegan gave out the order.
"Hold him."
I was yanked up by my arm before the Slab pulled me over to grab the Doctor too.
"You know, as far as a rescue goes, that was pretty pathetic," I complained to the Doctor who shot me a look.
"I didn't know I'd be rescuing someone. How did you get here?"
"Same way you did," I answered. "I worked it out. She's only got one escape route: the Judoon ships. Best way to blow up the building to give her time to escape is the biggest, most dangerous machine here. I just happened to run into our leather friend here and she recognized me. That's what I get for trying to help humanity by playing nice with aliens." I rolled my eyes. "Maybe the Caribbean would be a better place for a vacation. Ah, but the hurricanes…"
"Now's not the time to worry about vacations," he hissed to me, glancing at Finnegan. "What's she doing to the machine?"
I shrugged as best I could with the Slab still holding me. "Dunno. If I could tell what switches she's messing with I'd have a better idea. Judging by the noise and electricity sparks, I'd guess increasing the range and power of the MRI. Like I said, she's trying to get out to the ships. Can't do that if the Judoon are around."
He frowned, nodding before speaking up and playing innocent once more with Finnegan. "Er, that, that big, uh, machine thing. Is it supposed to be making that noise?"
"You wouldn't understand."
I sighed, willing to go along with it for now. "I did advanced engineering GCSE. I'm sure I could get the gist of it."
She surprisingly did explain. "The magnetic setting now increased to fifty thousand Tesla."
"Ooh, that's a bit strong, isn't it?" The Doctor added as I worked on seeing if I could get out of the Slab's grip at all.
It's harder to control two people than one, with or without being made of solid leather.
"It'll send out a magnetic pulse that'll fry the brain stems of every living thing within two hundred and fifty thousand miles. Except for me, safe in this room, Finnegan explained.
"But er, hold on, hold on, I did geography GCSE. Doesn't that distance include the Earth?"
Geography GCSE? I'm sorry, that wouldn't include judging the distance between—You know what? I don't know why I'm trying to think about this. Can I possibly off-balance this Slab thing? I teetered my weight forward a little, feeling a hint of its grip tightening on my shoulder, and felt a small smile slip onto my face. Perfect.
"Only the side facing the moon. The other half will survive. Call it my little gift."
"I'm sorry, you'll have to excuse me, I'm a little out of my depth. I've spent the past fifteen years working as a postman. Hence the bunions. Why would you do that?"
Now he's a postman? I'm surprised anyone believes a word that comes out of his mouth. I shook the thought off, thinking over what I was going to do when I had the chance to slip out of the Slab's hold.
"With everyone dead, the Judoon ships will be mine, to make my escape. This place is the perfect hiding place. Blood banks downstairs for a midnight feast, and all this equipment ready to arm myself with should the police come looking," Finnegan continued, smirking devilishly.
"The Judoon are looking for you," I concluded, drawing her frown towards me. "As I told them. Did I mention them turning up their scans to level two?"
I understood the Doctor's plan, after all. The only way she would get caught is if she appeared alien. He wanted her to drink his blood, not knowing that they had upgraded their scans to level two and that it would tell she was a shape-shifter even with another assimilation. He was going to sacrifice himself when there wasn't any need to.
"Then, I must assimilate again."
"Assimilating won't help. The level two scans are—"
"What does that mean?" The Doctor cut me off, making me scowl at him.
Stop it, you idiot! I can avoid this if we buy enough time for the Judoon!
"I must appear human," the woman muttered, slipping behind the machine to find something.
"Well, you're welcome to come home and meet the wife. She'd be honored. We can have cake," the Doctor rambled as I took a steadying breath to calm the urge to strangle him.
"Why should I have cake? I've got my little straw," the woman smirked, holding up what appeared to be a plastic bendy straw.
"Hold on. You're going to hurt someone with a plastic straw?" I questioned, drawing her attention to me.
"Not made of Earth plastic," she informed, "and you've been a rather large thorn in my side for a human. So, you'll be first."
"What?" The Doctor said, looking more panicked now. "No, hold on. Why her?"
"I'm more annoying, weren't you listening?" I scoffed as the Slab forced me to my knees. "I told the Judoon about her current appearance, got them to increase their scans to level two. You just tried to talk her to death."
"No. No, no, no, no, no. Take me. Take me first!" He shouted, trying to rush for me until the Slab grabbed him around the neck, somehow able to handle his struggling and keep a firm grip on my shoulder to hold me in place.
"I'm afraid this is going to hurt," Miss Finnegan said, pulling my head to the side to better expose my neck. "But if it's any consolation, the dead don't tend to remember."
Yeah, well, I don't stay dead so I'll remember. Joy. What number death is this? Am I over a hundred yet? Two hundred? Ah, who gives a shit, I mentally sighed, wincing as the straw was jabbed into my neck and blood began to get drained from me. A small glance to my left though, had me frustrated. The Doctor was shouting at me, for me. I'm going to die, you idiot. Just let it go. You should know it's not a big deal by now. I just survive anyway. Why… Why are you so desperate? My vision was getting a little foggy now and my eyes started to slip closed, leaving that image of the Doctor struggling to help burned in the back of my mind before I groaned.
"G-God dammit… Why do you fucking care so damn much?" I hissed out, sliding my knee under me and using my weight to fall to the side, dislodging the straw and kicking up.
My foot slammed into Miss Finnegan, knocking her back as I rolled over to get back upright, grimacing at how my body teetered, vision swimming.
"G-Get her!" The older woman shouted, scooting back away from me and rubbing at her bruised jaw while the Slab let the Doctor go and rushed at me.
I ducked under its outstretched hands, turning and grabbing it just under the knee, flipping it over my shoulder before grabbing its arm. Twisting it up behind its back, I hauled it to its feet and shoved it into the sparking MRI. Jolts of electricity ran up my arms before I managed to release the Slab and stumble away—jaw locked tight as I tried to work off the electricity. My sight was blackening already and I couldn't get back up to my feet as Miss Finnegan made a run for the door only to run into the Judoon.
Fear overtook her features as the Doctor ran to my side and held me semi-upright, letting her make up her excuses.
"N-Now see what you've done? This poor woman is dying from fright!"
The Judoon glanced at me and I pointed to the woman.
"I-It's her. She assimilated my blood. Scan her. If it's got the same anomaly then it's her."
Miss Finnegan looked between me and the Judoon as it drew its scanner and grunted.
"Confirmation. Human with genetic mutation. Secondary scan initiated. Non-human confirmed."
Miss Finnegan began to panic. "No… It's a mistake, surely."
"Confirm. Plasmavore, charged with the crime of murdering the child princess of Patrival Regency Nine."
She gave up the act at this point, understanding she was caught. "Well, she deserved it! Those pink cheeks and those blonde curls and that simpering voice. She was begging for the bite of a plasmavore."
"Then you confess?"
"Confess? I'm proud of it!"
"Verdict, guilty. Sentence, execution," the Judoon declared, raising its gun as the others behind it did as well in case she tried one more escape.
"Enjoy your victory, Judoon, because you're going to burn with me. Burn in hell!"
The woman was disintegrated in an instant and I allowed myself to relax, letting the darkness edge in as I was handed along to someone and the Doctor went to try and stop whatever the woman had done to the MRI.
"Just… unplug it," I grunted out, holding myself up more than whoever he'd left me with, pressing a hand to my neck.
Martha had fallen unconscious due to the lack of oxygen and I was just teetering on the edge of it myself. If I'm not dying from blood loss anyway. I closed my eyes for what felt like only a second before feeling as though I was on a boat, swaying softly as someone murmured in my ears.
"Stay with me, Marley… It's raining… on the moon…"
That's not my name… It's not… but I can't remember… I can't… Haven't I died enough?
