Didn't realize this had 10k words until it was too late... oh well, hope you all enjoy it! Next chapter is nearly done too so, oops. But brain wants a new project and something similar to Alexander the Seer might be popping up within the next few weeks since I've been informed I'm out of a job so... look forward to that!
A break. That's all I'd wanted. Some time to collect myself, to relax. To do something other than think about past memories and struggle through surviving whatever troubles the Doctor would drag me into. So, why was it that within hours of me leaving the Tardis, I'd died again? Literal hours, and I was forced to experience the feeling of a spinning ball of blades tearing right through me like the rest of the ten percent that was killed off by the new prime minister.
"The Master," he called himself. It was a joke, really. Or, well, I laughed, anyway. Before I died, that is. It seemed amusing at the time. Made "The Doctor" look like a silly title when someone just went and called themselves Master. Then, the man mocked him. Made a joke about the world needing a Doctor and suddenly the joke wasn't funny. I'd left one possible problem and inadvertently fell right into another. There would be no relaxing, no sunny beaches or quiet escapes into the mountains. I'd stepped right into the apocalypse with the Master at its helm.
Not everyone could deal with that. It's just how humans were. Some ran and hid, some stood up and rebelled—typically dying for it—and some… Well, some like me simply survived. Those who had experienced things like this before, veterans returning to those natural instincts that had helped them survive far worse. We were the ones to press through this the easiest. Well, I say "we" but the veterans all chose their own paths. Some joined the rebels, spread the word to gather others. I did not.
I wanted nothing to do with this mess. It was the Doctor's problem and humanity happened to be in the way. He'd fix it, probably. I couldn't begin to think how he would fix it, but that was just how things worked with him. Something happened and as bad as it seemed, he always figured something out—
I stared down at the dirty notebook in front of me with a scowl, swiping away some crumbs from a scrap of bread I'd been chewing and rereading what I'd written. Damn. Sounds almost like I trust him to fix this mess, doesn't it? I clicked my tongue and scribbled something in the corner margin where a number of other edits and thoughts sat. Note to self: I don't trust him to fix this. Find better wording.
I snapped the book closed and tucked it into a small bag with a few other meager items. I rose from the upturned bucket I'd been sitting on and stretched. Dirt flickered down from above as a military vehicle of some kind drove overhead, going ignored as I checked a few supplies in the small cupboards and boxes scattered around. Not much left. Can't stay. I stuffed what food was left into my bag—an unlabeled can of something edible and a stale bit of bread and crackers—and made for the bookcase nearby.
A heave shifted it aside and revealed a cloth-covered bulkhead door. I pushed the cloth aside and removed the latch locking the door shut, turning the wheel, and peering out cautiously. That's how everything was done nowadays; cautiously. When I saw and heard nothing but scattering rats, I ducked out of the hide in the sewer and closed the door behind me, ensuring it was latched again and being thankful my memory was well enough to remember the many scattered hides I had and those old historic ones I knew about.
This was how I lived now, anyway. I survived and I moved and acted to survive. It was all I knew how to do. It was easier this way, anyway. If I thought about what happened for too long—
"By order of the Queen—"
"Witch!"
"You did this! This is your fault!"
"I loved you."
If I thought about anything for more than a moment the memories came rushing back and overwhelmed me. I'd already had a mental break with the Doctor. Too many things had piled up too quickly and the experience of war again in 1914 was the tipping point. This time, I had more control, more time to settle into who I needed to be to keep going.
"Take care of yourself."
I frowned at those words, digging a hand into my coat pocket and putting out a phone. It hadn't been used since the Doctor had given it to me. There was no point in trying to call him anyway. I may not have a way to watch what was happening but I'd heard enough to know that the Doctor was at the center of this thing with the Master and I wasn't about to get any help from him. I shook my head and stuffed the phone back, finding the ladder up and climbing out of the sewers onto the surface.
It wasn't much better up here. Homes were either abandoned, destroyed, or being used as dens for the frightened and scared. I found it was much safer to use my hides or keep traveling. Living outdoors was well worth the risk when there were looters constantly slipping into wherever they could to steal the things people clung to. In this sort of place, rabid dogs were the least of your problems when humans could do far more damage.
I stayed tucked in a darkened alleyway as a group of those spheres flew by; eyeing them distastefully. After the first one killed me, I hadn't had any issues with them again but it didn't mean I liked them any more than before. All it told me was that they were a sort of hive-mind race. One killing me meant all the others assumed I was already dead, whether I was walking and talking or not. It meant no more trouble from them, but that didn't stop the painful memories I had of getting torn apart.
Once they were gone, I kept going, following an unknown path that had been leading me around to various hides since I'd died. It was instinctual at this point. I'd spent so much of my life running and hiding from people, just trying to survive, that my mind and body knew where to go and how to get there. I'd already done a bit of traveling while given this opportunity. The easiest places to survive were those well away from civilization but they also had the least amount of supplies. And staying in one place for too long is also a risk.
I sighed as I walked, making my way over the scattered remains of buildings and memories of loved ones. The mourning was long over but that didn't stop people from remembering. One could still find a few scattered bits of flowers left for those who were a part of that first ten percent. With the Master's rule, far more died over trivial things but the people remembered, and with those memories came heartbreak and the will to fight. It was that which would break the monotony. It was what I was waiting for.
Months had passed by now, though I wasn't exactly counting. I hadn't counted the passing of time since I first arrived in this universe. I'd tried while imprisoned a few times but all it did was make things worse and reminded me that time doesn't matter, not really. Things will happen eventually and counting how long it took for that to occur only ever leaves you feeling disappointed. I knew better. I simply listened. Listened to the people, the rats hiding about muttering to themselves and others. Whispers of information leaking about rebel groups taking a stand, people disappearing, war being raged, and a woman traveling the globe.
I lifted my head, not remembering when night had fallen or when I'd tucked myself within the eaves of a group home full of chattering people. They didn't know I was here, that I was listening in, but the information was invaluable. A woman traveling the globe, standing up against the Master and in search of a weapon to defeat him. Rumors had spread far around the world but the group whispered excitedly. She was coming back, back to England. She was finishing her journey and the end of the Master would soon follow.
"A year of suffering will finally be over."
A year. Has it been a year already? My eyes drifted shut again for seemingly only a moment before they snapped open once more. The people were asleep. It was time to move. I went a few more places and in every one of them, people gathered and spoke of this woman. The woman searching for parts of a weapon to defeat the Master and spreading word of the Doctor. It was only when I heard her name that understanding dawned on me.
"Her name? Martha Jones."
I jerked up at that, scrambling to my feet and bursting out of my hiding place, startling the small group of people as I confronted them.
"Who the hell—"
"You said her name was Martha?" I questioned, getting an uncertain nod from him as my brain spun and ran rampant with questions. "But she's not with the Doctor?"
"With him? Nah, she just tells stories about him. If the guy even exists, anyway."
"No… No, that can't be right," I muttered under my breath, pacing back and forth uneasily. "If he's not with her and she's alone… does he expect her to do this by herself? This will never get fixed at that rate. What is he doing then? Ugh." I groaned in frustration, messing up my hair and turning toward the group once more. "Where's the nearest group of rebels?"
The man stiffened, feeling threatened. "Why the hell would I tell you that?"
I rolled my eyes with a sigh, hand ducking into my coat and drawing a pistol to aim at him, eyes eerily calm as he flinched back. "Now, understand that I'm being very nice right now." I reached back into my hide and grabbed my pack, throwing it to the ground in front of him. "There's some bread and cans of food in there. You can have the lot if you just answer the question."
He only hesitated a moment longer, eyeing the weapon before spitting out the answer. I huffed and stored my weapon back into my coat, leaving the home before he would change his mind and retaliate. It was rare that I had to resort to violence here, but there were times when I hadn't been able to stop it. Early on was the worst, when you couldn't stay anywhere for more than a moment without getting jumped by looters or other desperate people. With my life once again on the line though, I had to fall back on old habits.
"Give me the money. Now!"
"Just give it to him, pa. I don't want you to get hurt."
"It ain't right, Melody. We worked hard for this money. We earned this trip!"
"And I work hard not to starve, now give me the money or I'll put a bullet in you."
"I refuse."
"Fine."
Bang!
I jolted, head whipping to the door that had slammed open and relaxing as a young man walked in. I'd forgotten where I was again. That was the problem with being immortal. Time just slipped away without me knowing. A few hours could just disappear or a week or more. I'd gone from scrambling for food right after death to long gaps vanishing from my mind while just walking and traveling. Now, I had settled again, somehow the head of a group of rebels and scouring the country for information on Martha and her progress.
"Where is she?"
"She just landed. Came off a small craft and is making her way into London with a medic."
She wouldn't come back without a reason. "Is she meeting anyone?"
He nodded eagerly. "The professor."
I clicked my tongue in annoyance, drumming my fingers on the table as my eyes scanned the scraps of paper there with more information on how the nearby rebel groups were doing. That was what I was good for, apparently. That old military thinking had come back quick and fierce in this situation, leaving me in the position where moving people and assigning tasks to them came easily. I didn't like leadership roles but it was so easy to fall into those past memories and roles.
"Colonel, the men are ready and awaiting orders."
They're walking into a death trap but we have no choice. This is war and we have to slow them down here or…
"Sir?"
"Sir?"
I lifted my gaze and waved at the man still standing there. "Sorry. Thank you. You can go. There should be a ration for you in the hall."
The man smiled and took off, eager for food after his travels while I tried to figure out what to do now. Martha will be back and trying to do something to the Master. If he hears word—he always does—then he'll come down to meet her. She needs to succeed if we want to stop this. I'm the only chance she has if something goes wrong and it already is. The professor is… I got up and headed to the door, grabbing my coat and pulling it over my shoulders before stepping out into the hall and immediately drawing attention to myself from those waiting for the next big plan.
"Matthews."
"Yes?" Another young man piped up, making his way over as I walked with long strides down the hall.
"I'm going to need you to make sure that things go right for Martha Jones as she gets closer to London. Preferably, without being noticed by her or anyone else."
He nodded, eager for a new task, especially one this important. "Anything I need to watch out for?"
"The professor. We already know her son's taken by the Master. Send a team to try and get him out of there. Martha might already know what's going on, but just in case I need you to keep watch on her and send me her whereabouts as she gets closer. After that, I'll meet up with her myself."
"But sir, if you leave, then—"
I let out a sigh. "Martha Jones is our one big chance against the Master. So long as she succeeds, then everything will go back to how it was. If she fails, then we'll have to try and figure something else out."
"What else is there?"
I shrugged, not about to lie to offer him a small chance of hope. "Who knows, but we'll figure that out when we get there. Do you have a team in mind for the professor's son?"
He nodded, determined. "Jeremy has a good group. They've gotten people out of places before and he has inside connections."
"Good. All I need then is a small pack of rations and I'll stay within the area but will have to loosely blend in. While I'm out and you're keeping an eye on Martha, put Vanessa in charge. Have her keep up with what we've been doing so far, collecting and distributing rations, recruiting, whatever."
"Of course, and sir?"
"Hm?" I hummed, glancing at him as I reached the storeroom, only for him to salute.
"It's been an honor."
I sighed again, looking away. "We're not military, Matthews, even if it feels like it."
He chuckled, sending a trickle of unease through me. "Still felt like I should say it."
I shook my head as he bounded off to go do as he was asked and I grabbed a pack and started putting in some supplies, limiting it to only what I would need to not starve to death. I've already had that death once this year. No need for another when we have supplies. Once that was done, I gathered a few of the other higher-up rebel members and let them know what was happening before slipping out into the night and starting my return to silently listening in to rumors.
It didn't last as long as I'd thought. Martha was quick to come into town and spread the word, and after only a few days, I'd found out where she was. I slipped into the home holding a decent-sized group of people and blended in until I met up with Matthews.
"So? Any trouble?"
He shook his head. "None. She met with the professor and they caught one of those spheres. Destroyed it after so I'm not sure what they were doing exactly but after that, she left. It's just her and Tom, the medic she was with."
I nodded, eyeing Martha as she spoke to the people about the Doctor from the steps of the stairs. "Any news on the Master?"
"Jeremy said he was on the move when they went to get the professor's kid. He's already got word."
"Shouldn't be long before he shows up then."
"What should we do?"
"I'll worry about Martha. You keep the people here safe. No one is to walk outside once he shows up."
"You're sure you're okay on your own? I could get a team here quick if we need to."
"No. Best do things quietly. Less risk of getting spotted and fewer casualties."
He nodded begrudgingly and slipped away to talk to the few other rebel people in the group to let them know the plan. I saw a few nod at me and I shifted toward the door, peering out once I opened it a crack, already spotting a helicopter in the distance moving in. Not long now. If he's anything like the Doctor, then he won't be easy to kill either. I touched the pistol in my coat, wondering just how useless it would be and if the death would be worth it.
Someone was running over now and I shifted away from the door as they burst into the building, calling out in terror.
"It's him! It's him! Oh my God, it's him! It's the Master. He's here."
The people scrambled to cover Martha up and try and hide her, but I knew she wouldn't stay put if the right pressure was applied. The Master knew this as well and easily said the words that would drag her out.
"Martha. Martha Jones. I can see you! Out you come, little girl. Come and meet your master. Anybody? Nobody? No? Nothing? Positions," he commanded his men. "I'll give the order unless you surrender. Ask yourself. What would the Doctor do?"
Martha stood up and removed her cover, walking right past me to the door. I trailed after her and gave Matthews a nod as I slipped into the dark outside and he placed himself in front of the door to keep the people inside. Martha moved out into the street and faced the armed soldiers and the Master himself, who looked as smug as can be at having finally caught his prize.
"Oh, yes. Oh, very well done. Good girl. He trained you well. Bag. Give me the bag. No, stay there. Just throw it."
Martha took off her pack and tossed it to him, letting him destroy it before it came too close.
"And now, good companion, your work is done," he said, lifting a screwdriver as someone shouted near me.
It was the medic she'd traveled with, making a bolt for Martha and having been outside the home before Matthews interfered. I muttered a curse and rushed after him the second the Master turned his attention to him. A blast was fired and I tackled the man to the ground, feeling only a moment of white-hot heat before the world went dark.
The Master scoffed, satisfied that he'd at least killed someone before heading back, only for Martha to call out.
"Fallon?"
He frowned, looking back at the terrified man who crawled out from under the person he shot. Martha hurried toward the dead figure though, rolling her onto her back and sucking in a sharp breath.
"What?" The Master snapped, annoyed at losing her focus. "Friend of yours?"
Martha scowled at him from over her shoulder. "Friend of the Doctor's and you killed her."
The Master's smirk widened, feeling giddy as he headed over and waved some men with him to grab Martha and haul her off the body. "Friend of the Doctor's, you say? Well then, we better bring her up. I can't wait to see the look on his face when I drop the corpse of his precious friend at his feet. Shame he couldn't be witness to it, but that's what we have you for, right? Almost dawn, Martha, and planet Earth marches to war."
The trip to the Valiant was short and to the point, but Martha kept glancing at Fallon as she was carried over a man's shoulder like a sack of potatoes. You said you were immortal. You've died before, right? You should be okay. Like Jack, you should just pop back up again, right? She felt uneasy staring at Fallon's hanging body but was soon brought into the flight deck of the Valiant where her family was already waiting with Jack as well. Her heart swelled, glad to see them relatively unharmed physically at least, She was left standing before the Master as he eyed her smugly, holding out a hand.
"Your teleport device, in case you thought I'd forgotten."
She tossed it to him and he sneered.
"And now, kneel," he commanded and she did so. "Down below, the fleet is ready to launch. Two hundred thousand ships set to burn across the universe. Are we ready?"
The spheres outside twittered eagerly as a man responded. "The fleet awaits your signal. Rejoice!"
"Three minutes to align the black hole converters. Counting down. I never could resist a ticking clock. My children, are you ready?"
"We will fly and blaze and slice. We will fly and blaze and slice."
"At zero, to mark this day, the child Martha Jones, will die. My second blood," he hummed, smirking at the Doctor who was now a small, decrepit creature in a cage. "My first blood was already taken. It's a shame you weren't there to witness it. I only found out she was a friend of yours afterward." He nodded to the soldiers in the back and the one carrying Fallon stepped forward and threw her body to the ground.
The Doctor's eyes widened momentarily, surprised that Fallon had been killed before they fell into something sad. He had hoped she'd escape this mess without an issue, but she'd been dragged into it in the end.
"Any last words, Martha Jones?" The Master questioned, aiming his laser screwdriver at her once more. "No? Such a disappointment, this one. Days of old, Doctor, you had companions who could absorb the time vortex. This one's just as useless as your friend there... Bow your head," he snapped at Martha as she complied. "And so it falls to me, as Master of all, to establish from this day, a new order of Time Lords. From this day forward—"
Laughter echoed in the room, stopping him from continuing his speech as he frowned at Martha.
"What? What's so funny?" He demanded.
"A gun."
His brows furrowed. "What about it?"
"A gun in four parts?"
"Yes, and I destroyed it."
"A gun in four parts scattered across the world? I mean, come on, did you really believe that?"
The Master bristled. "What do you mean?"
"As if I would ask her to kill," the Doctor croaked.
"Oh well, it doesn't matter. I've got her exactly where I want her."
"But I knew what Professor Docherty would do. The Resistance knew about her son. I told her about the gun, so she'd get me here at the right time," Martha explained.
"Oh, but you're still going to die."
"Don't you want to know what I was doing, traveling the world?" Martha teased, drawing him in easily.
"Tell me."
"I told a story, that's all. No weapons, just words. I did just what the Doctor said. I went across the continents all on my own. And everywhere I went, I found the people, and I told them my story. I told them about the Doctor and I told them to pass it on, to spread the word so everyone would know about the Doctor."
"Faith and hope? Is that all?" The Master scoffed.
"No, because I gave them an instruction, just as the Doctor said. I told them that if everyone thinks of one word, at one specific time—"
"Nothing will happen," the Master snapped. "Is that your weapon? Prayer?"
"Right across the world, in word, just one thought at one moment but with fifteen satellites."
Understanding dawned on the Master then, making him uneasy.
"What?"
"The Archangel Network," Jack piped up, seeing the plan as well.
"A telepathic field binding the whole human race together, with all of them, every single person on Earth, thinking the same thing at the same time. And that word is Doctor."
The timer the Master set up hit zero and everyone around the world started thinking about him: the Doctor. Even those on the Valiant did the same and across the room on the floor, a hand twitched back to life. The Doctor himself was glowing bright, being rejuvenated by the telepathic field he'd taken a year to connect himself to. He changed from that small creature back to his former self as the Master shrank away in fear.
"Stop it. No, no, no, no, you don't. Don't! Stop this right now. Stop it!"
"I've had a whole year to tune myself into the psychic network and integrate with its matrices," the Doctor said, facing the Master calmly.
"I order you to stop!"
"The one thing you can't do. Stop them thinking. Tell me the human race is degenerate now when they can do this."
"No!" The Master screeched, firing his laser at the Doctor and failing before turning it to the others. "Then, I'll kill them!"
The Doctor went to reach out toward him but before he could, the Master was grabbed around the ankle. The Master yelled in surprise as Fallon launched herself up off the ground, jerking his leg up and grabbing him by the throat, pinning him to the floor of the ship.
"Fallon!" The Doctor shouted as she snarled at the Master underneath her.
"A year of your egotistical bullshit! Like I haven't had enough to deal with! A whole year of dealing with those damn voices because you decided to fuck up the world!" She raged at him as he choked under her hand before there was another shot fired from his screwdriver, right into her side.
She choked up blood, grip loosening as he shoved her off and the Doctor rushed for them both. The Master's eyes snapped between the two uneasily.
"S-She was trying to kill me!" He said, pleading with the Doctor almost as he lightly touched Fallon and looked back to the Master.
"You know what happens now."
The Master took a faltering step back. "No! No, no, no!"
"You wouldn't listen," the Doctor sighed, getting up and heading toward him as he stumbled back. "Because you know what I'm going to say."
"No," the Master whimpered, curling up on himself as the Doctor went over and wrapped his arms around him.
"I forgive you."
"My children!" The Master hissed, sending the Toclafane off as the Doctor bolted to his feet and called out to Jack.
"Captain! The paradox machine!"
Jack rushed for the controls and the Doctor turned back to see the Master reaching for the Vortex Manipulator. He rushed for the man, but Fallon grabbed hold of him first and they were both teleported away.
I sucked in a breath of air desperately, feeling my side on fire from the Master's screwdriver and somehow still able to hold tight to him as he fought against my hold.
"Let go!"
I snarled, more than angry at this point. "No! You gave me so much shit to deal with!"
"I don't even know you! How are you even still alive!"
"I'm immortal and to date, you are the worst person I've ever had to deal with! War was easier than this!"
"God, another one? How the hell does the Doctor keep collecting you!"
"A-Another?" I breathed, mind short-circuiting.
"It won't matter anyway, because I have this!" The Master brought out a device smugly. "Black hole converter inside every ship. If I can't have this world, then neither will the Doctor."
"Are you joking?" I complained, somehow getting to my feet as my vision spun and my hand grabbed hold of the bleeding hole in my side in vain. "You? I might not know you like the Doctor, but I sure as hell have met people like you before and if you can't survive your own chaos then you won't damn well do it."
The Master scowled, throwing the device to the ground and reaching for the teleport device on his wrist again. Not one to be left in a barren wasteland of Earth again, I lunged and grabbed him too, just as we teleported back onto the ship. I groaned upon landing, feeling sick from the teleportation and from the quaking ship I'd landed in.
"Everyone, get down! Time is reversing!" The Doctor shouted over the noise, making eye contact with me before the ship gave a rather violent jolt and his arms wrapped around me. "I've gotcha. Hold on, Fallon."
I nodded weakly, knowing my injury would undoubtedly end up being the actual death of me in a minute. I'd lost too much blood and already couldn't hold myself up. The Doctor was the only reason I was standing and I sagged against him as the ship settled. He helped me down, leaning me up against a wall with a worried glance as I weakly waved him off. He hesitated, the bleeding heart that he was, but soon went and checked on the others, explaining that he'd broken the paradox that had been placed over the world this last year.
I honestly had no clue what he meant. Being someone who'd been down on Earth the whole time, I hardly had a good idea of what had happened other than the Master showing up with killer spheres and becoming a tyrant ruling over the world. The paradox nonsense wasn't anything I understood or cared about, much less when I was slowly dying and my mind grew foggier by the second.
A hand touched my shoulder, dragging my eyes up to a blurred figure with dark hair kneeling before me. It wasn't the Doctor but I couldn't make out his features well enough to tell who it was.
"Don't worry," he murmured, giving my shoulder a slight squeeze. "Just let go. It'll be over in a minute."
I wanted to argue that he didn't know what he was talking about but my mind and body had other plans as my eyes slowly slipped closed and I fell into the dark once again. When I woke back up, I was being carried on someone's back. My body still throbbed with pain, letting me know I hadn't fully recovered from multiple bad deaths, but the voices nearby had dragged me out of my slumber early.
"Time was, every single one of these people knew your name. Now they've all forgotten you," Martha hummed as a breeze wafted through my hair lightly, making my eyes close for a moment.
"Good," the Doctor replied as the person holding me let out a hum himself.
"Back to work."
"Well, once you drop Fallon back off in the med bay," the Doctor teased. "I really don't mind, though. Come with me."
"I had plenty of time to think that past year, the year that never was, and I kept thinking about that team of mine. Like you said, Doctor, responsibility. Glad to see you've at least started thinking about that with this one."
A hand pat my leg and I grumbled, tightening my grip on the man's throat in warning.
"I'm still sore," I croaked out, "stop jostling me."
"Oh, well, good morning, Sleeping Beauty," the man chuckled once I'd loosened my hold. "Feeling better?"
"No," I huffed, dropping my chin on his shoulder with an exhausted sigh. "I need more recovery time. Too many deaths. I need sleep."
"Works a bit different than mine then, huh?"
I wasn't sure what that meant and cracked an eye open to glance at the Doctor who gave me a small smile.
"This is Captain Jack Harkness. Another immortal thanks to the quirks of the soul of the Tardis."
"Anoth—" I cringed, having started to jerk upright until the pain made me collapse back onto Jack's shoulders. "S-Son of a…"
"Careful there. Know your limits," Jack chided lightly. "Nice to know that there's another one of us out there though. Ever need a place or a drink, call me."
"Jack," the Doctor chided, letting me know the man holding me was a well-known flirt.
"M-Might take you up on that now, actually," I muttered, catching the slightly hurt look from the Doctor and lifting a finger to point at him. "Don't give me that."
"What?" He questioned and I waved my finger around at him.
"That. The sad puppy look. It's your fault I ended up in this mess, you know. You drop me off hours before an apocalypse? I died four times this year, you know. It's a damn record."
He sagged a bit and I dropped my arm tiredly and let out a sigh.
"Not that the deaths were your fault," I huffed, peeking an eye open. "I just need a break. A proper one this time."
"I understand," he murmured and I groaned.
"God, I'll call you, okay? Look." I fumbled with my pockets, nearly dropping the phone until I managed to hold it up. "I still got the phone. Okay? Just let me have a vacation for a bit. Talk to someone who gets it a little." I stuffed the phone back and pat Jack's shoulder as he watched this in amusement. "Your friend will take care of me."
"Oh, absolutely."
"That's what I'm worried about," the Doctor complained, before sighing and giving in with a small smile. "Yeah, all right. But soon as you're ready—"
"I'll call," I grumbled. "Might be a while though. I don't even know how I'm awake right now. Might end up knocked out for a week after this just to recover. I don't know."
He gave me one more worried look and I sighed.
"I'll be all right, Doctor."
He scratched at his head in frustration but nodded. "Yeah… Yeah, I know."
I hummed, closing my eyes again and giving Jack a pat on the chest. "Let's go. I'm going to pass out again in a minute and would love it if I made it to an actual bed this time."
Jack chuckled. "You heard her, Doc. Places to go, drinks to have, people to meet."
The Doctor sighed reluctantly as my mind started to slip back to sleep. "I'll see you later then, Fallon."
"Mm, later," I murmured, sagging into Jack's back and drifting back into the dark.
I woke up slowly, turning over under the heavy blankets and curling my arm around the pillow under my head. Soft… Wait. What happened again? My brows furrowed before everything came back.
"We will fly and blaze and slice."
"The Master."
"I'm so sorry."
I bolted upright, gasping for breath and grabbing at the loose shirt I was wearing. My heart raced at the memory of blades slicing through me, seeing blood pouring from wounds that were no longer there. I closed my eyes, trying to calm down, hating the cold sweat that rolled down the back of my neck. I sighed once I had pushed the memories aside, leaning my head back and lightly bumping it against the wall. My brows furrowed and I opened my eyes, frowning at the brickwork that was a part of the ceiling and wall. My stomach clenched with hunger though, distracting me and reminding me that I had been living off of bare minimum for the last year. So, I pushed myself out of the bed.
I paused once I was standing, frowning at my lack of clothes. I was only wearing an oversized t-shirt and my underwear. Who…? My mind was fuzzy after I died on the Valiant, remembering only the burning pain in my side and the chill of cold that rolled through me after. There was a brief memory of someone comforting me and of being carried but my memory was terrible anyway, so I brushed it off. I'm alive and in one piece. I also woke up in a bed for the first time in a year. Whatever happened can't be too terrible. I scratched the back of my head and searched for a door, only to find no such thing. Instead, there was a ladder leading up to a manhole cover and I suddenly had a feeling of unease roll through me. It reminded me eerily of the hides I'd been going through while surviving.
I shivered at the feeling and hastily made for the ladder, climbing up and shoving the manhole cover off. Even more confused, I climbed out into another brick room with a desk and quite a few machines scattered around. Some I recognized and others I didn't, but the change of space certainly had my head spinning. I rubbed my eyes for a second, leaning back against the desk before my nose caught the scent of coffee. Instinctually, I followed it, ending up in a kitchen area where someone was pouring a mug of coffee for himself. The smell was more than enticing though, and I came up beside him.
"Is that coffee?" I asked, making the man jump in surprise as I snatched the mug and held it close, smelling the scent drifting off it with a groan. "God, it smells heavenly."
A sip confirmed this and I sighed, ignoring the man's surprise and the way his mouth opened and closed like a fish gasping for breath. Another sip allowed a shiver of warmth to roll through me and I sank against the counter, drinking more and peering an eye open to glance at him.
"Great coffee. Love it, and anyone who makes great coffee is amazing in my books."
He flushed a bit, clamming up as his eyes wandered down, realizing my state of dress and he quickly snapped them back up to my eyes. "W-Who—"
"Fallon!"
I leaned forward as the man I had been complimenting turned to see someone else hurrying up. I vaguely recognized him from some part of those forgotten memories after my most recent death but made no move to say anything. The coffee was too good.
"Glad you're finally awake. See you've met Ianto."
"She stole my coffee!" Ianto complained lightly, making the other man chuckle.
"Well, I would too, honestly. How's everything, Fallon? All in working order?"
"Physically, yes," I replied, seeing that he apparently knew what I was. "I do have a bit of a blank spot in my memory though. Who are you exactly?"
He brought a hand to his chest as though I'd wounded him. "You've already forgotten me?"
"Yeah, I don't remember much after the Valliant." I placed the empty mug down and waved vaguely at my head. "My memories are shoddy, to begin with. Can I ask for my clothes back though? As much as I enjoy wandering in a stranger's shirt, I'd rather my own things."
"Well, most of your things had some rather large holes in them. We've got some spare stuff you can go through. I'll gladly take you out later if you want to have a little shopping done."
The flirting tone wasn't missed but the man seemed to ooze confidence. He was good-looking too, a typical lady's man with a hint of suave that would make anyone swoon. Shame I'm not just anyone, I mused but I easily gave in as I pushed off the counter. Still, I'm on vacation. Might as well have a bit of fun.
"Sure. Why not?" I shrugged, making him beam as he gestured for me to follow.
"Maybe some dinner?" He offered casually. "You did say we might enjoy some drinks. I know a great place off the wharf we can try."
I shrugged again, not super interested in anything other than blowing some steam. A nice night getting drunk might be fun. Don't plan on staying long anyway. Spend some cash, have a good meal, nice night out. My body relaxed at the thought before I glanced at the man beside me.
"So? Introductions?"
He smiled again. "Captain Jack Harkness at your service. Friend of the Doctor's, or well, sort of friend by his standards. Fellow immortal, in case you missed that part too. Though you're not exactly panicking like someone who just woke up in a random place with strangers."
"Living as long as I do means forgetting a lot of things," I replied with a hum. "Wouldn't be the first time, doubt it'll be the last. I find panicking about it isn't worth it, especially nowadays where any problems that might crop up can be dealt with easily."
He let out a whistle as he opened a door into another room. "Not big on the relationships then?"
A brief memory of a smiling face flickered through my mind before quickly getting shoved back.
"No. Not really," I replied shortly, earning a hum from him that was surprisingly not offended.
"No, I get it. I'm all for some one-time flings myself but it's not easy forming new relationships when you're like us." He gestured toward the next room where a few racks of clothes were hung up, smiling softly. "Feel free to take something for now. We can dip out of here and grab some more things before the shops close. You need cash?"
I shook my head, moving toward the racks and searching for things my size. "I've got a few places I can drop by to get some. Where are we exactly?"
"Underneath Roald Dahl Plass in Cardiff Bay."
I hummed, thinking of the closest hides that would have spare cash from this century. "Yeah, I've got somewhere nearby that should work. Think you can get me to Insole Court?"
Jack tipped his head, curious as I pulled out a pair of jeans that might fit. "Sure. What's hiding out there?"
I looked over my shoulder at him with a smirk. "There's an old World War II bunker just outside of its back garden. Been closed since 1991," I informed him as I searched for a shirt next. "I tend to use old bunkers and such if I need a quick place to stop by or hide out. Keep some cash and food in each one. This one is one I need to empty out though. People are starting to notice it so either I purchase it at auction or empty it out. It's not the nicest place with the damage done to it so I'm better off grabbing what's in there instead."
"Nice," he mused, "don't know why I didn't think of that. How much cash do you have?"
I snorted, stripping out of the shirt I'd been in and working on pulling up the pants, ignoring the feeling of his eyes on me. I'd long since given up on decency.
"More than I need. It's the plus side to living as long as I have. Old money becomes worth more the longer you have it. Add the extra bonus of banks giving you money for having certain account types and owning a lot of antiques that are worth good money to the right people and you tend to accumulate wealth."
"So, you're rich."
"A bit, yeah," I chuckled, pulling on a shirt that still ended up a bit too large. "Not that I flaunt it. Still, I own a nice place just outside London in the countryside. Nothing big or fancy, but still a home if I need one."
He hummed, glancing away. "Must be nice. Closest thing I've got is this place. Settling down was never my thing."
"Not entirely my thing either," I admitted, "but after a while, I… wanted somewhere to just stop. Never getting old meant staying in one place was a risk. This was the only exception… Full of memories though. Can't always stay there, especially on the bad days."
"Yeah, I get that," he mused, understanding, and I wandered over with a sad smile.
"So, shopping then drinks?"
"Fine by me," he chirped, regaining his previous enthusiasm. "Though we best get some food in you first. It has been over a week."
"Ah, that explains the stomach pains," I noted, rubbing my gut as we started to leave the home Jack owned. "How long was I out?"
"About ten days since the Valiant. Dunno how you did before that."
"Bare minimum," I replied, lifting a hand to shade my eyes and blinking at the brightness of the outdoors once we'd gotten out of the building. "Starved once near the beginning of the year but managed through the rest of it. The last week I had some small food items but limited myself since I was caring for others."
"You? Caring for others?" He teased, making me snort.
"You know me too well already," I huffed. "Yes, caring for others. Ended up leading a rebel group once I heard about Martha. Wasn't sure how the whole mess would end and took only the bare minimum from our supplies. I can starve a million times over but they can't. I might not like building relationships but they creep up on you sometimes."
"Like the Doctor?"
I groaned as we got into a car, dropping my head back against the seat. "Don't even get me started."
Jack laughed, starting up the engine and driving us off. It was nice, having someone I didn't have to hide from. Someone who understood what it was like to live through history, experience it, and die from it. Sure, he was a bit flirty but I didn't mind. We handled our immortality differently. He had fun, did what he wanted, ran off, made friends, drank, and had a good time. The fun for him overrode the trauma and that was just what worked. It was different for me. He'd become immortal and lived through a few hundred years. I was practically born immortal the second I landed here and lived through thousands of years. We had different experiences, different troubles, different lives and personalities. I couldn't just drink my problems away. Couldn't blow cash, run around and party hard to forget the past. It just didn't work. I'd tried.
Instead, I wrote about it. My memoirs helped me keep track, sure, but they also helped me express myself, helped me work through things. Maybe that's why I've been having issues lately. I haven't been writing them as much. I've been too busy running. I eyed my drink lazily, eyes already half-lidded and mind buzzing from the many previous drinks. We'd finished shopping ages ago and dinner had happened after that. We'd moved up to pub crawling now and I was well into my drinks, as was Jack. Though he hardly looks it, I noted, glancing at him as he downed yet another with a grin.
"If I had my Vortex Manipulator, I would've taken you to this great bar where their drinks are absolutely insane. You'd love it," he chirped, pleasantly, winking at another customer across the bar who'd been eyeing him hungrily all night. "They serve these drinks from another planet that just wipe the floor with you. Not that Earth drinks are bad, of course."
"You're not from Earth?" I questioned idly.
"Oh, no. I am. From the Boeshane Peninsula, in fact. 51st century."
My addled brain fought to figure out what he meant and he chuckled, patting my back and draping his arm across it.
"Don't worry about it. I'm human, just like you, if that's what was bothering you. I just know a bit more about what's off Earth."
"I wasn't bothered," I countered with a small frown. "Just thought you might be like the Doctor. All human-faced but alien."
"There's plenty of those," he hummed, waving down the bartender for another drink. "You'll meet a lot of people when you're with the Doctor. He seems to like you, you know."
I scoffed, downing my own drink so I could get another. "Please. We barely know each other."
"How long have you known him?"
"Few days," I grumbled, dropping my chin in my hand and eyeing the liquid being poured into a glass before me. "He wants to be closer but I'm just not ready for that."
"For being friends?" Jack questioned, leaning on the bar himself and facing me. "Hate to say it, but that guy picks up friends like that." He snapped his fingers. "The Doctor's usually pretty friendly right off unless you're doing something morally wrong. Wasn't exactly nice to me. We met while I was doing a con that went wrong. I grew on him though. Saved my life, then ruined it, then made it all work out again."
Jack chuckled as I scoffed again, grabbing my refilled glass and taking a sip.
"Sounds about right. Every minute I'm with him something new happens. I've left him a few times now. Just can't get my head on right long enough to stick around."
He tipped his head, toying with the olive in his glass. "How do you mean? He's not upsetting you, is he?"
I waved at my temple with a scowl. "It's just my head. Damn memories. Every little thing brings up something I'd rather forget. Thousands of years does that. I might not remember everything now but all it takes is some trigger and suddenly I'm remembering a death from ages back or someone who fucked things up for me. Things get messy and if I have a mental break right in the middle of a bad situation, people could get hurt. Me, the Doctor, his companion, whoever. I've got enough death on my hands to deal with, without adding another because I can't keep my head on straight."
Jack hummed, glancing away with sad eyes. "Yeah… Yeah, I get that. It's tough, isn't it? Living as long as we do, as long as we're going to. I'm missing two years of my memories, you know? Had a job and someone betrayed me and took them. I'm… I'm kind of afraid about getting them back. I'm a pretty decent guy right now, but anything could've happened then. I might have killed someone or done something irreversible. I could be a terrible person and not even know it, and I'm not sure I want to know."
I was quiet for a moment, thinking that over. "As someone who forgets a lot… I can't exactly blame you but…" I frowned, rubbing the back of my neck. "I'm not exactly a great person either. Thousands of years means I've done a lot of things. Things I shouldn't have—"
"Just give him the money…"
"No! Look what you've done!"
"—Things I can't remember or things that I get reminded of constantly." I looked over at him, eyes swimming with guilt. "There's no excuse for the things that I did. The Doctor doesn't know about them because we aren't close but… I doubt he'll be so desperate to hang onto me once he finds out about them."
"Fallon…"
I waved his sympathy off, looking toward my drink. "The point is, I did all those things. They're done and over with, but I remember them all, and… even the things I'd like to forget, I remember. I go out of my way to remember them because, in the end, they remind me of what I've done and what I shouldn't do again. They remind me of the consequences of my actions and how things could've been done differently. How I should do things in the future, how I should look at situations and react to them. So… sure, you might've been an absolute ass for two years but knowing what you did just gives you knowledge for the future and… well…" I picked my drink back up to sip at it once more. "You can't make up for the bad until you know what you did, right?"
Jack was quiet for a while, silently drinking and staring off into space until he spoke again. "Thousands of years, huh?"
"Since the dawn of humanity in this world. Or, well, close to it, I think. Don't remember a lot of the early stuff so I might have hit a million. I don't know." I waved at my head. "Again, my memories are fickle. My memoirs only go so far back and written word came about… what? 3400BC? Hacking away on stone is a pain and not worth the effort so…" My brows furrowed. "But didn't humanity start like two million years ago? I swear I popped up before then…"
I muttered a bit to myself, trying to figure out my approximate age and at what point I forgot and when I started writing to keep track but the alcohol made things far more confusing until I eventually gave up. Jack though, was thoroughly amused at my scramble and eventually interrupted.
"I only asked because it seemed you've got a good head on your shoulders," he hummed, fiddling with the little umbrella from his newest drink. "Takes time to be that experienced. To have a good handle on what's going on and how to deal with it. I like that."
"Good handle on myself?" I scoffed, pointing at him and prodding him in the chest when I leaned a little too far forward. "I am the opposite of that. I've already had…" I paused to count before lifting three fingers. "...two mental breaks since being with the Doctor, you know. That's hardly handling myself."
He blinked in surprise. "Really?"
"Yup," I huffed, frowning at my empty glass. "Too many memories. I've got drug issues, you know. Used to, anyway, but the temptation is still there. We ended up on New Earth or something and they had these patches. Sounded like a good idea at the time and it was just the Doctor that kept me right, and he didn't even know he was doing it. Sod." I scoffed. "With that and Shakespeare being a nosey git, I took a short break to try and get a handle on things. Doctor popped up again and then it was bad adventure after bad adventure. Got possessed by a parasitic sun—"
The bartender refilled my glass and I took a long swig of it before setting it down a bit harshly on the counter.
"—Killed someone. Then there was… was those things. Some family that only live a few months. They got a whiff of the Doctor and we had to go in hiding in 1913. You can imagine how that went."
Jack winced, undoubtedly knowing how World War II would've gone if he'd experienced it a second time.
"And get this! As if that wasn't bad enough, right? The Doctor turned himself human for that adventure. Became this John fellow and he fell in love with me!" I half-shouted. "Can you believe that? We've only known each other a few days, the Doctor and me, but he went an' turned all human. And I don't know how that works. If John was like a part of him or if he's part of John or if John was even real or made up but I knew him for two months and we weren't exactly friends either. So, who was kissing me? Makes no sense, right? I was dealing with enough shit anyway. Aliens found us, started bombing the place, I had every right to mentally break. Then, poof! Apocalypse the second I'm back on Earth."
"Sounds like the usual with the Doctor," Jack replied, leaning in. "Did he really kiss you?"
"Yup, the idiot," I scoffed, downing the rest of my drink. "What was I supposed to think? Did he actually like me? Was it John or the Doctor? And why? I'm nothing special other than the whole not-dying bit. He doesn't know half of what I've gone through or done and I don't exactly know his whole story either. Just some Time War thing and him being all… all alone…"
I sagged a bit before dropping my forehead on the table with a groan, making Jack grab me just in case I fell.
"Ugh, I'm so stupid. I'm such an ass. Why did he love me? Doesn't he know I'm a terrible person?"
"You're not terrible from what I've seen and heard," Jack offered. "You've made mistakes, sure, but like you said, you're making up for them now, right?"
"How do you make up for thousands of years of horrible actions? I've been alone for so long, I don't even know when I'm doing good anymore," I muttered into the table, feeling his hand rubbing comfortingly against my back.
"You're doing your best, Fallon. That's all that matters. You're trying to be good and you've got people like the Doctor around to help you figure it out."
"No one is all good," I complained, rolling my head over so I faced him. "What happens when the Doctor makes a mistake? Who will correct him?"
"You, probably. Or his other companions. Just because you have a bit of trouble doesn't mean you won't see a mistake when it happens. You need to trust yourself more, Fallon." He lightly pushed the nearby drink further away. "And probably lay off the alcohol a bit."
I pouted, watching the bartender take the glass away. "I like alcohol."
Jack chuckled. "So do I but I think you've hit your limit for today. I'll grab us a hotel nearby if that's all right with you."
I hummed in agreement, letting him ring up a place before he heaved me up off the barstool and draped my arm over his shoulder. I couldn't walk straight if I tried, after all, and he had a very high tolerance apparently. His cheeks are barely even red. No fair. I frowned as he called a cab and helped me in before we started to drive off. He kept me tucked up against his side and the rumble of the engine was quick to make me relax.
"Have you ever liked someone?" I murmured, feeling him stiffen under me.
"Like someone? I take it you mean not your typical fling."
"I had a husband once," I admitted. "Kids too. It didn't work out. One died in infancy, the other was killed in war. My husband, he… he didn't believe me. I thought I could trust him but he…" I curled into Jack further, hiding my face as it crumbled. "I thought he would understand. I'm not crazy. I'm not."
"I know," Jack murmured, rubbing my back again as the cab pulled up. "Come on. Let's get some rest."
I was again helped from the cab and soon up to our room. Jack gave me some water that I greedily drank as the room felt too warm for me anyway. He handed me some clothes and upon finding me a moment later struggling with the buttons on the pajama shirt, he sighed and helped.
"Jack."
"Yeah?"
I dropped my head on his shoulder. "I'm so tired."
"I know."
"How am I supposed to enjoy anything when I'm so tired? I can't even pretend to be happy anymore."
"You just need a nudge in the right direction. The Doctor can help you, Fallon. I'm sure of it. You need to give him a chance though, okay?" He said, giving my arms a squeeze. "Don't let your past drag you down any further. He'll understand once you let him try. I promise."
"You shouldn't do that," I grumbled. "People break promises all the time."
He cracked a small smile. "Well, if I'm wrong then you've always got me."
I reached out and grabbed him around the neck in a hug, startling him until he relaxed and hugged me back. "Thanks," I murmured and he hummed back.
"Yeah. Of course."
