Fun fact about this chapter and the next few ones. I'm using some elements from the Robot Target Novel. It's where I'm getting some parts (particularly Harry's internal monologue and some aspects of Four's inner monologue) from.
Side note, I had a lot of fun writing Harry and I had a lot of fun trying to put together Four's scattered thoughts.
Acknowledgement Time Folks!
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"C'mon Doctor," a surprisingly clear voice said, cutting through the haze that was his brain, "When you wake up again, we'll be right here. I'll be right here!"
The thing about regeneration is that the more times you do it the more erratic the process is. After your sixth, the chances of the change being, let's say "explosive" increases significantly. That's why the council had rules that stated if you had plans to go off-world in a capsule and were more than halfway through your regenerations, you had to submit yourself to a medical examination to make sure you weren't moments from kneeling over and destroying your console room in an explosion of arton energy. It wasn't as silly as some of their rules he thought, but then again, that wasn't that high of a bar to cross.
The Time Lords had a lot of rather silly rules.
Although, not so silly that they hadn't forced his last change over one. That one had hurt more than this one.
The other thing about regeneration is that when you've done several, it's fast, explosive, and most important of all painless.
The thing about regeneration is that when you're only on your third, it's slow, gradual, and most important of all painful.
But he wasn't thinking about any of that. He wasn't thinking about much of anything. Other than that he wished that he could make it stop. His whole body felt uncomfortably hot and every part of his body felt like it burned. He could feel his tissues and muscles and bones shifting as if the heat he was feeling was from a kiln and the coals had softened them and strong yet uncaring hands were bending and stretching and molding him into something new.
The first time he changed had hurt far more than the second time, but it had also hurt less because he hadn't been alone. He wasn't alone this time either. But he was barely aware of that or anything else for that matter.
Who was he?
Memory was a funny thing. What was a man, if not the sum of all of his memories? Such a thing was even more important for a person like him. Was he going to be the same man as he'd been before? Had he changed yet? Would he know when he changed? Would he even know that he had changed? Could anyone know?
No one was the same person today as they had been a year ago. Was he the same man as he had been before? He wasn't sure anymore. He was sure that he knew for sure that he was still himself. For who else could he be other than himself? Someone else?
No. No, he was himself and he was always going to be himself. He didn't remember who had told him that, but he remembered that he trusted her. And she'd made a promise.
And then it was over.
Something was different though. Something was off. He felt different. No, he was different from who he had been. He knew that for certain. And he was sure that he was still himself.
Who that was, he couldn't be certain.
The heat under his skin slowly dissipated. He still felt far too hot, but he didn't feel like his blood was made of molten iron. His bones settled into their new place and his skin stopped shifting over them. He wasn't completely done...regenerating? That was the word. That's why he had changed. The process was mostly complete, but not quite.
Still, the pain was all but gone. He could focus now. Or at least try to focus. He groaned and raised a hand to his head. Thinking was hard. It made his head hurt. Had thinking always hurt that much? He didn't think so. He spent an awful lot of his time doing that. He might've noticed. He had to focus on the small details one at a time until the big picture felt safe enough to look at.
There was something between his fingers. It was soft and there was a lot of it. Which was good. What was it called again- HAIR. Yes, that was it. He still had hair. Quite a lot of it. More of it than he had had before. He hoped that it looked as nice as he felt. The Doctor prepared to open his eyes.
The last time this had happened, when he'd opened his new eyes, it had been too dark. And then the first time it had been too bright and it hurt until someone had said something and the lights had dimmed until they were bright enough for him to see but not enough to hurt.
He opened his eyes fully. They were dimmed. So she had to be here then.
There was a woman looking down at him. She wasn't HER, but he knew her. He knew that he knew her, but he wasn't sure of who she was other than that he trusted her. Who was she? Chin-length hair framing her face...
It had to be Z- no, no, her hair had been black, and he doubted that he was ever going to see her again. Plus, she had been a teenager. This woman was an adult and her hair was brown. She was...her name escaped him. But he knew who she was. He thought he did. But how could he know that he was right about what he knew?
"Sontarans," he heard himself say. That was where he'd met her the first time. He knew that. It had been before, when he had been himself but not THIS self. He could hear another voice talking, something about a medical officer. The man was familiar. Just as the woman. But names were very, very hard. The Brigadier! That wasn't his name, but it was close enough to this name. He'd heard the man called that frequently, and he answered it just fine. There were many, many, many names to know, and he could only recall a handful.
"perverting the course of human history," he finished his thought and looked at the woman with the chin-length hair expectantly.
She'd know what he was talking about if she was who he was pretty sure that she was.
"What's he talking about?" the other man.
"It's something that happened when we first met!"
Aha! Yes! He knew that he was right! It was her! But where was the other "Her"? Where was she! She said she'd be right there when he woke up. And she'd also said that no matter what he'd still be himself. And he was awake now. So that meant that she had to still be here. If she wasn't, then maybe it meant that he wasn't still himself.
So, she had to be here.
Maybe the Brigadier would know! He always made it his business to know everything about everyone. Oh, but he looked concerned about something. What could he be worried about... Dinosaurs! There had been Dinosaurs hadn't there. In 20th century London no less! Did that ever get resolved? Better safe than sorry, at least until he could remember what worried him.
The Doctor quickly sat up to get the other man's attention and looked the man in the eye.
"I tell you, Brigadier," he said as authoritatively as he could, "there's nothing to worry about. The brontosaurus is large and placid,"
He had gotten the Brigadier's attention. So there was no need to continue sitting up. He was still tired after all. He wondered if perhaps he wasn't finished yet. He was sure that he used to know and remember more things. He lied back down. As he did, he happened to glance to the other side of him, and there She was.
The other Her. The one with the dark curly hair. What was her name...Marion!
He knew that! It came to him almost instantly too!
She's been right there next to him the first time he changed. And she'd instantly known that it was really him and not someone pretending to be him! Not like the other two. She hadn't been there the second time, but he couldn't fault her for that. No one had been with him the second time, no one who mattered anyway, but she'd been there as soon as she had been able to And that's what mattered. He knew that if she could've been with him, she would've. Marion was just like that.
And here she was sitting right next to him again. He looked up at her. She was looking back at him, and absentmindedly tapping her fingers against her leg.
He was aware of someone else walking into the room. He didn't know who the new man was, and he didn't know who the men who joined him were either. But that didn't matter.
"This the patient, sir?"
That reminded him! Something else about the brontosaurus.
"And stupid!"
He added finally.
It was like saying that was the trigger that exploded the dam that was just barely holding off the explosion of information. Suddenly his thoughts were racing faster than he could keep up. It hurt. He shot up again, grabbing a hold of Marion's sweater to help keep him up. It was red. She seemed surprised by his sudden outburst, but not so surprised that she fell over. He felt a hand pressing against the side of his shoulder and holding him up. The hand was warm, not hot like the hands that molded his bones and muscles into something new, but warm.
He was starting to feel very tired, but he couldn't rest yet. He needed to get what he was thinking out of his head or else he wasn't going to be able to bear it. Come to think of it, Marion might know the answer to his question. She knew a lot just like he knew a lot, but they both knew different things. They helped to bridge each other's gaps. So since he didn't know surely she would. And if she didn't perhaps the Brigadier or the woman with the brown hair or the chap that was crouched near his head would know. But Marion probably would, so the point was moot.
"If the square on the hypotenuse equals the sum of the square on the other two sides, why is a mouse when it spins?"
Without missing a beat, Marion answered. "Simple. Because the higher the fewer!"
He laughed. He knew that if anyone could answer that, it'd be her.
"I've always wanted to know the answer to that one,"
He was so very tired. He asked the question that had seemed so important at the time, he could go to sleep now, just for a bit. She'd still be there when he woke up.
His vision started to grey out again. He felt the same warm hands from before carefully lowering him back down onto something soft. Then he didn't feel anything as the grey turned to black and his eyes shut.
And that was the Fourth Doctor's first impression of Marion: a promise kept and a question answered.
Marion anxiously drummed her fingers on side of the Doctor's sickbay bed.
It just wasn't right for the Doctor to be that still.
After Marion had sworn up and down, left and right to Sarah Jane and the Brigadier, that yes, the Doctor was going to be fine, and that his whole system was just a little bit shaken up, but he was going to be fine soon.
Dr. Harry Sullivan had nodded when Marion had told him that the Doctor's vitals were normal and then he'd excused himself a few minutes prior and hadn't come back yet. Marion wasn't sure where he'd mentioned his reasoning or not. She hadn't been paying attention. Because yes she knew that he was going to be okay, but he looked-
And now she was alone with her thoughts. Super. That was great! She LOVED being left alone with her thoughts. That had NEVER ended poorly ever!
She tried to remember what Ten had told her.
It wasn't her fault that Three had died. It wasn't her fault that Three had died. It wasn't her fault that Three had died.
Intellectually, she knew that to be true. She'd seen herself in the TARDIS trying her hardest to run after the Doctor. She'd been straining against the Bitch Force (because that's the only thing that it could've been) to run after the Doctor for one. And she would've absolutely told the Doctor not to grab the crystal. If he didn't listen it wouldn't be her fault. And once he'd grabbed it, there really was no way for him to return it without dying, so Marion wouldn't have encouraged him to.
But maybe if she had tried a little bit harder, then this wouldn't have…
Well, surely she tried as hard as she possibly could. The Associate was her after all. And she couldn't imagine NOT giving her all to keep the Doctor safe. So, that couldn't be it.
But maybe it wasn't her fault at all. After all, the Doctor had died in the show.
But it seemed like something that would've been so simple to avoid. But clearly not.
Did this mean she wasn't going to be able to get Two and Jamie and Zoe far far away in time? Or keep Five from getting infected? Or Six from hitting his head? Or Seven from getting shot or-.
Marion's eyes flickered over to the still unconscious man. His eyes were shut, they weren't scrunching up in pain like they had been while he was on the floor of the lab. His chest was rising and falling steadily, and the room was quiet enough that she could hear the soft sound of him inhaling and exhaling. He looked calm. Peaceful.
Give him a century or so, he'd fall to his death from a radio tower trying to keep the world from unraveling at its seams. And he'd more or less know the entire time that he was ever so steadily walking towards his death thanks to the Watcher. And there was nothing she could do.
It wasn't fair! How was she supposed to-
A low groan caught Marion's attention-
She saw the Doctor's nose wrinkle for a moment and then his eyes shut themselves tighter and shot open.
They flickered around the small hospital room rapidly, as if trying to take in everything in the room and then they zeroed in on her. His blue eyes remained glazed and unfocused but still, they were a lot clearer than when he'd reached up to clutch at her and asked her about geometry and rodents as if it was the most important thing in the world. Progress is progress.
And then he quickly shot up and out of bed like a jack in the box. Before Marion could react, she saw quick movement and she was eye to eye with the Doctor despite the fact that they were both standing up which didn't make sense since-
Ah. Okay. Huh.
The Doctor was holding her up to eye level by the underside of her arms like a disgruntled cat and beaming from ear to ear about it.
Alright.
"Marion! Hello!" He said as if holding her over a foot above the ground was a perfectly normal thing for a person to do. "It's so very very very nice to see you again! I could hearyou, you know! You said that you'd be right there when I woke up! And you were! Both times!"
Marion could practically hear the exclamation marks in the man's voice. She could also hear a strong lilt in his voice; the same one that had been in Three's. That was a little concerning. She had thought since he that lilt had left his voice when he had spoken to Sarah Jane it would be gone when he finished regenerating.
Apparently not. He seemed otherwise fine, so she didn't bring it up.
"Hello, Doctor. I'm glad that I was there. And don't worry, I plan on sticking around. Would you mind putting me down please,"
"What?" He looked at her for a moment, and as if he somehow didn't realize what he was doing. Then it finally seemed to click. "Oh," the Doctor said, without a hint of shame, "yes of course. You're very short Marion. Is that why you're so strong? All that energy in such a small frame has to go somewhere? You know, you weren't there, but a few years back I met a man from-,"
"Doctor!"
"Pardon me!"
He was still beaming ear to ear like a manic child. But, he put her back on the ground. He didn't even drop her either.
The Doctor continued to look around the room and then he finally seemed to look at himself. He stared at his arms as if confused. He shook his arm as if trying to confirm that it was in fact is. He held them up to his face with a confused look in his eyes. He looked down at himself and grimaced.
"What's this?" he lightly tugged at his shirt, "What am I wearing?"
"I think it's called a smoking jacket?"
"I don't like it. I don't like any of these," he shook his head "They don't fit me,"
"I mean. I don't see why they wouldn't. Not counting the hair, you only grew an inch or so they should still,"
The Doctor looked down at her and blinked slowly.
"Don't fit ME," he gestured to himself.
"Oh? OH!" Marion lightly tapped the side of her head.
The Third Doctor dressed like a dandy magician. That wasn't the Fourth's style. Marion nodded.
"Right, right! Let's-,"
And the Doctor was already out of the room.
"-go to the TARDIS." she carefully followed behind him.
As Marion approached him, the Doctor turned and held a finger to his lips to shush her.
On the other end of the hall, Marion could hear the Brigadier and Sarah Jane talking. Once they were out of earshot, the Doctor moved quickly down the hall and into the room that the pair had come from, Marion close behind. The Doctor moved quietly in a way that his general manic behavior upon waking up wouldn't make you think he was able to, and once Marion had stepped into the lab behind him, he very, very, very, carefully closed the door.
"You know-" the Doctor shushed her.
"You know," she tried again, whispering. The Doctor didn't shush her this time. He didn't visibly react in any way this time. "I don't think that sneaking around this much is necessary,"
The Doctor looked away from a microscope and towards the TARDIS as if she hadn't said anything. His eyes lit up as he looked at it and he moved towards it. The Doctor grabbed the handle on the door and shook it. The door remained shut.
"Key. Key, key, key, key. Key, key," he repeated. He patted all over his person and then started to shift through his pockets. "Where on earth is my-,"
"Boot," Marion replied. "It's in your boot,"
"Yes, of course," the Doctor nodded. He balanced against the wall and pulled off one of his boots. He held up something metallic and shiny. He grinned widely at Marion, "Obvious place!"
The Doctor turned back to the door, and that's when he walked in. Harry Sullivan. Marion had met him earlier. He'd seemed nice enough as far as she'd met him.
"There you are. Thank you for finding him, Miss Henson"
"I-" Marion started.
Harry stepped closer to the man.
"Now come along, Doctor, you're supposed to be in bed,"
"Am I?" the Doctor backed away from Harry and by extension, the TARDIS, "Why,"
Well, the good news there, was the Doctor's lilt seemed to be gone again. That was a positive sign.
"Because you're not fit yet," Harry insisted.
Marion felt sorry for him. She hadn't bothered to try to keep the Doctor in bed. Both because she knew that he'd be fine, but also that he probably wouldn't have listened. The poor man actually thought that the Doctor of all people was going to listen when told to rest. What a shame.
When you're recruited to the British branch of the United Nations Intelligence Taskforce, it goes without saying that you need to be debriefed on many things. Yes, Aliens exist. Sometimes guns work on them. Sometimes they don't. For that reason, if it seems hostile, don't run up to it, guns blazing. It is unlikely to end well. This is our Scientific Advisor and this is his Associate. If you don't know what you're dealing with, ask him. If he doesn't know either ask her or ask him to ask her. Brigadier Lethbridge-Stuart is your commanding officer. you're dismissed.
It's simple, to the point and because of that, leaves a whole lot out. That's why there's an unofficial briefing as well.
The formal one can't cover everything.
It unofficial briefing happens through experience or in an overheard conversation. Sometimes it's directly asked for.
All and all, it's about the scientific advisory department and how bizarre it is.
They'll talk for a bit about the Scientific Advisor with his curly grey hair and his genius and the way that no one can quite put a word to his relationship with a certain wanted criminal.
And they'll tell you a bit about the handful of assistants he's had over the years. There was the first advisor before the Doctor, (she left UNIT a while back, but she moved onto better things) and the blonde girl (rumor was that she was on an expedition in the Amazon with her husband) or the brunette woman (she's a newspaper reporter).
But the bulk of the unofficial briefing is about the Associate to the Scientific Advisor and how the fact that she's an American working for a high-level British Intelligence Agency is the least weird thing about her.
Hardly any of the rumors about her are exaggerated is what they insist.
Sometimes her hair will have more light patches than you remember seeing the day before. And sometimes it'll be less. It's not dye. Sometimes there will be patches of discolored skin on her body that weren't there before. It's not make-up. It's okay to ask about the ones you can see. It's not okay to ask about the ones in places that you can't. Her stories will sound unbelievable no matter what she or other people tell you. That is until you see her get one of those marks herself.
Spots on her hair and skin aren't the only things about her that come and go. Her memory is horribly erratic. "If you talked to her yesterday, don't be surprised if she doesn't remember the conversation today, or tomorrow," And "don't be surprised if she briefly remembers it again a month from now, and then forgets a day later" "And," a Lieutenant mentions, "don't be surprised if she remembers something that you don't,"
She's a bit eccentric, there's no denying that, especially when you hear her talk, but most of what she says has at least some kind of meaning, even if it seems like nonsense. "Although some of it is just nonsense," the Brigadier might add if he overheard a discussion about his enigmatic employee.
But the most important thing about the Associate to the Scientific Advisor of the British wing of the United Nations Intelligence Taskforce, the thing that everyone tries to make certain that you know, is that no matter how erratic her memory is or how eccentric she seems, her advice is worth taking.
If you ask her about something, and she tells you not to do something, don't do it. If she seeks you out specifically to warn you not to do something or go somewhere, don't do it and don't go. It doesn't matter if Brigadier Allistar Gordon Lethbridge Stewart himself gave the order. You won't be reprimanded for listening to her instead.
"She's been a part of UNIT since the incident in the London Underground that started it," they all insist "She knows what she's talking about, so listen! Bad things happen when you don't"
None of that really prepared Dr. Harry Sullivan for the reality of meeting her in person. No offense to her, she didn't look like someone who'd been a part of UNIT for the better part of a decade and whose advice was considered as valuable as any kind of intel.
She looked like she had only just graduated from university at the oldest.
So when Marion Henson told him point-blank that the man whose skin felt unusually cold to the touch was fine and that his 190 bpm heart rate was "nothing to be concerned over," well he'd absolutely question her judgment on the matter and when to go retrieve some of his medical tools.
He was the one with a medical degree, not her, and he wasn't going to lose a patient that had been put in his care over the words of some woman who didn't even have a medical license.
He had left the room to get the kit to do blood work and had come back to see that the sick bay was empty. That was just perfect. The Brigadier had specifically put the Doctor in his personal care and now he was missing and so was Miss Henson.
Brilliant.
He turned heel out of the sickbay. He couldn't be that hard to find. There weren't that many places for a man like that to hide. Nothing about the man was inconspicuous.
Where could they-
"Zua l'pux-"
"Shhh"
A familiar female voice was coming from the Scientific Advisor's lab. It sounded familiar, but he hadn't the foggiest what they were saying. Still, it had to be Marion. Whatever she had been saying she had been shushed and then tried again.
"Zua l'pux. O fup'v v'jopl v'jev t'pieloph esuyp'f v'jot nydj ot pidittesa"
A male voice (the Doctor most likely) responded with some kind of repetitive noise and then "x'jisi up iesvj ot na-"
"Cuuv. Lv't op auys cuuv"
"Ait, ug duysti," the voice that was presumably the Doctor replied to the person who was presumably Miss Henson. "Ucwouyt qmedi!"
Harry crept carefully through the door and saw Miss Henson leaning against a lab table and watching the Doctor and he couldn't help but notice the way she was positioned in between him and the door.
Maybe he'd been too hasty with his assessment. She'd somehow convinced the Doctor to busy himself with that old Police Box that had to also be some kind of storage space instead of something that might have helped him leave HQ like a door or a window after all.
Maybe he'd underestimated Miss Henson. She'd at the very least kept the Doctor from trying to leave the building.
"There you are," He said, from the doorway she jumped, she clearly hadn't noticed that he'd been there. "Thank you for finding him, Miss Henson,"
"I-"
"Now come along, Doctor, you're supposed to be in the sickbay,"
The man stopped messing with the police box and turned to stare at him like a deer in headlights.
"Am I?" his eyes flashed towards Miss Henson, and the Doctor slowly backed away from both the Police Box and him. "Don't you mean in the infirmary?"
And that was good. He was no longer speaking that odd lilting gibberish.
"No, I do not mean the infirmary," Harry replied sternly, "I mean the sickbay. You're not fit yet,"
"Not fit?" the man replied, as if Harry was the one being ridiculous, "I'm the Doctor! Marion, this man thinks I'm not fit! Do you think I'm not fit?"
"No, Doctor," he shook his head. He had to humor him a little bit. It would make it easier to get him to the sickbay. Still, he had to remain firm. "I'm the doctor," he reminded gently, "not Miss Henson, and I say that you're not fit,"
"You may be a doctor, but I'm the Doctor," he moved away from Harry and closer to Miss Henson and the door, "The definite article, you might say,'
"Look here, Doctor. You're not fit-,"
"Not fit?" he raised his voice, "Not fit? Of course, I'm fit. All systems go!"
The Doctor slammed a hand down, chopping a brick angled on the lab table in half, and began to run rapidly in place. Before Harry could speak, the Doctor reached for his stethoscope. Deftly he popped the earpieces into Harry's ears and applied the other end to his own chest. Bemused, Harry heard a steady beat of a strong and healthy heart. The Doctor moved the stethoscope to the right side of his own chest. Harry heard an identical heartbeat.
"I say, I don't think that can be right,"
"It's fine," Miss Henson chimed in. She walked closer to him. "He's got what's called a binary vascular system. Two hearts. If you only heard one heartbeat," she sucked her teeth, "that'd be bad,"
He had never heard of that being a thing in medical textbooks before, but then again, he had never heard of a single heartbeat echoing like that.
The Doctor suddenly took the stethoscope away from him and thrust it into her hands.
"Marion? X'jev fu auy v'jop'l? jux fu na jiesvt tuyp'f?"
He was speaking in that lilting language again. The one Harry'd never heard before.
"What on earth is he saying?"
Marion looked at him in confusion and for a moment, it almost made him wonder if they had been speaking English all along and he was hearing wrong. "He asked me how his hearts sound. You said they sounded off and he wanted a second opinion" She briefly put the stolen stethoscope to her ears and tilted her head consideringly.
"They sound alright to me,"
"Hmm," the Doctor said as if considering what she'd said. "Both a bit fast though, aren't they?" He looked back and forth between the two of them
Miss Henson shrugged. Harry had no idea what they'd been talking about.
"Still, must be patient," the Doctor handed the stethoscope back to him. "A new body's like a new house. It takes a little bit of time to settle in,".
His eyes flashed towards a mirror and he seemed enthralled by his own reflection.
"Oh," he tapped his cheeks experimentally, "As for the physiognomy. Well, nothing's perfect. Have to take the rough with the smooth. Mind you, I think the nose is a definite improvement. As for the ears," the man lifted his hair to see them, "well, I'm not too sure," the man turned around sharply to Miss Henson who, to her credit, didn't even jump. She hadn't jumped or flinched or reacted very much to the man's erratic behavior. She looked fond, if not mildly amused like she was looking after a friend who was just on that side of tipsy. The man turned around to face her. "Marion, what do you say to the ears,"
"I say hello! But if you're asking how they look, they're nice I guess? Half hidden by your hair most of the time though,"
The Doctor turned back around to look at the mirror.
"They are aren't they!"
While the poor man was distracted by his own ears, Harry leaned down to speak softly to Marion.
"Hyper-active," he said with a nod towards him, "poor chap, Body's been at a standstill, now it's suddenly gone into top gear,"
"Eh, that's normal. He'll calm down in a little bit I think. Just give him time to settle."
She clearly didn't understand how severe the situation was.
"He'll crack up if I don't get him sedated. If you could keep him occupied for a moment I could-,"
Whatever he'd been about to say died down in his throat at the look she gave him. Gone was the fond expression she'd had in her eyes when she looked at the Doctor. It was replaced by something sharp and cold. She tightly gripped his shoulder as if to hold him in place.
"You will do no such thing," she said in a sharp whisper. Then she took a deep breath and seemed to remember himself and let go of his still stinging arm. Her hands were shaking.
"Sorry," She didn't sound very apologetic, but her eyes warmed into something that reminded him more of a November morning in Scotland as opposed to the Arctic Seas. Her voice sounded calm, but there was a dangerous undercut to it. He thought he understood why everyone seemed to agree that if she told you to do something, it was best to listen. She was terrifying in a way that a woman who barely reached up to his shoulder and wore a flour-streaked red jumper that had to be at least a size too big had no right to be. "I can't let you sedate him. He'll have an adverse reaction to the drugs and it'll kill him,"
He found himself nodding mutely.
Marion watched the Doctor look at himself in the mirror fondly. Harry Sullivan looked away from the Doctor and leaned down to speak to her.
"Hyper-active," he said with a nod. That was fair, Marion supposed. He'd always been a little bit like that though. "poor chap, Body's been at a standstill, now it's suddenly gone into top gear. He'll crack up if I don't get him sedated. If you could keep him occupied for a moment I could-,
Marion barely heard a word after the word "sedated".
On one hand, Marion knew that Harry Sullivan wasn't threatening the Doctor's life. He hadn't been saying "calm your friend or else".
But that didn't stop the idea of him trying to sedate the Doctor from giving her a sinking feeling in her stomach.
Human drugs not mixing well with his system was part of what killed Seven hadn't it? She didn't remember. She absolutely did remember something about certain human sedatives being deadly to Time Lords. And she knew that some medications might as well be arsenic to them. Aspirin for example? She wasn't going to risk the Doctor getting hurt. She wasn't going to watch the Doctor die at the hands of some idiot that 'knew' he knew best. It didn't matter if time was going to reset.
So maybe she'd spoken a bit more coldly than she should've. And sure, maybe she shouldn't have gripped his arm as hard as she did.
And maybe she should've felt worse about the fact that she didn't feel bad about either.
Because hey, she was pretty sure that he was no longer considering taking action that might lead to her having to watch her friend die for the third time in a row. So there's that.
Four was fated to go through enough bullshit in his life without adding this to it. The Doctor in general was fated to go through a bunch of bad stuff, but Four specifically was fated to get hit rather hard.
She hadn't thought about it while she was on the Sandminer. Everything had still been pretty fresh.
It still kind of was, come to think about it.
But the main difference between then and now is that now she was thinking about that joke that she and her friends had had back in her universe in a whole new light.
The one about how Tom Baker secretly suffered from severe narcolepsy and so writers had chosen to simply write around it. That, she had joked, was why the Fourth Doctor had been seemly unable to go through an entire serial about being drugged or knocked in the back of the head or hit with a psychic attack, or otherwise rendered unconscious in some kind of way. Not to mention the way that he could barely set foot anywhere without being accused of some kind of capital offense or without someone just straight up attacking him.
As she looked at the man currently occupied by examining his eyes and ears in the mirror, she noticed that, somehow, that joke wasn't as funny.
Neither were the jokes about him having the mental shields of moist tissue paper and that being why all it seemed to take to him out was anyone with mildly psychic abilities thinking a mean thought about him.
They were making her sad. And mad. Smad if you will.
She was going to protect him from what she could. No ifs, ands, or buts. If she could, she would. And if a navy doctor who mistakenly thought he knew best was on the list of people she needed to protect him from, then so be it, she'd do it.
But at the same time, she couldn't just go around attacking people like a rabid dog.
Marion let go of Harry's arm. She lowered her voice the best as she could so that the Doctor wouldn't hear her.
She wondered if her hands were shaking. She hoped that they weren't.
"I can't let you sedate him," she said very carefully and calmly, "He'll have an adverse reaction to the drugs and it'll kill him,"
Harry quickly nodded.
"Good, good," Marion took a deep breath and took a step back. She didn't add "I didn't want to have to hurt you," to the statement, but she absolutely thought it.
It was then that the Doctor turned away from the mirror and back at the two of them. If he had heard them talking, he didn't react.
"What do you say to the ears?" he was looking at Harry this time, not her.
Harry's laugh sounded slightly nervous to Marion's ears. "Well, I really don't know,"
"Well, of course, you don't," the Doctor stepped forward, Harry stepped back, "Why should you? You're a busy man. You don't want to stand here burbling about my ears. Neither here nor there. I can't waste any more time. Things to do, places to go. I'm a busy man too, you know. Thank you for a most interesting conversation," he shook Harry's hand vigorously and began to walk,
"Come along Marion!"
Harry quickly backed away from the Doctor and stood in front of the door out of the lab, blocking their exit.
"There is absolutely no question of you leaving, Doctor," he said firmly, "Now, you go back to the infirmary, I mean the sickbay, get into bed and stay there until I say that you can get up,"
The Doctor turned away from Harry with his hands up in confusion.
"How am I supposed to convince him that I don't need a rest? Marion, you've told him, right? Tell him that I'm well and fit,"
"The Doctor's well and fit,"
"See?" the Doctor gestured to her as if he thought that her words alone would prove his point. Marion wondered if that was his fresh brain still cooking or if it was something else, but either way, it didn't convince Harry to budge.
"How can I prove my point?" the Doctor spoke mostly to himself walking away from the two of them.
He knocked the brick off the table and Marion saw his eyes flicker to the floor. He picked up a jump rope off the floor almost too quick for Marion to see.
"I think I ought to warn you, Doctor," Harry tried "that there's grave danger of myocardial infarction, not to speak of pulmonary embolism. Yes, I should, I should-"
Before the man could continue, the Doctor began spinning the rope, pretty much forcing the man to jump along with him.
"Mother, mother, I feel sick. Send for the doctor quick, quick, quick. Mother, dear, shall I die? Yes, my darling, by and by. One two three four."
'Geez,' Marion thought 'British kids nursery rhymes are really dark,'
Eventually, the ropes tangled around Harry's legs and he fell to the ground.
The Doctor's head twisted to face her. "Marion, help me hide him in the closet?"
"What? Doctor?" Marion glared at him, "No!"
"That's fine I suppose. I trust you'll hold him off then. Long enough to get away. We'll rendezvous on the grounds under the lab windows in half an hour. See you soon-,"
"Wha-,"
The Doctor spun on his heel and determinedly walked into the TARDIS.
"What?"
Just as the Doctor shut the TARDIS door behind him, the door to the lab opened up suddenly to reveal Sarah Jane and the Brigadier. The two of them looked at Marion and then down at Harry who was still on the ground and then back over to Marion.
"What on earth?"
"The uh," Marion rubbed the back of her neck, "The Doctor's still a bit…,"
"Well, where is he?"
The Brigadier asked. As if offering an answer, the TARDIS engines started to grind.
"Ah, too late," he said without even looking in the direction of the ship.
Sarah Jane's eyes widened and she ran towards the TARDIS and started to pound against the door.
"No! No," she shouted, "Doctor, wait! Doctor, listen. Please, it's Sarah!"
The door to the TARDIS swung open and ducked his head through.
"Doctor!"
"Hello. Come to see me off, have you? Well, I hate goodbyes. Marion, would you like to come now instead of later so we can slip away quietly?"
And now the Doctor was looking at her. And now Sarah Jane was looking at her. And wow. Marion didn't like looking at Sarah Jane with that expression on her face. She looked like she was about to cry. Marion didn't want Sarah Jane to cry.
"Doctor," Marion said quickly.
"Yes,"
"We can't leave just yet you know,"
"Can't? Why not?"
Marion pointedly looked at Sarah Jane and tilted her head sharply to the side.
Sarah turned to the Doctor and started to talk. "W-well, because you're not- Well because the Brigadier needs you. Don't you, Brigadier?"
"What?" The Brigadier did not look like he expected being brought into this. "Oh, yes, of course. Depending on you,"
"What for?"
"Er, well, there's been this robbery, hasn't there, Brigadier," Sarah Jane's eyes flashed to Marion and Brigadier and then back to the Doctor, "Some kind of secret weapon,"
"Ah, yes," the Brigadier stepped closer to the TARDIS, "Very serious business,"
"And I mean, you are still UNIT's scientific advisor. Remember? Well, you can't go rushing off and leave them in the lurch,"
"Can't I?"
Marion looked up at the Doctor from where she was trying to get the rope from around his legs. And, jeez, how did the Doctor manage to get it that tangled? It shouldn't be possible.
"Doctor..." she said, in a slightly scolding tone.
"Marion..." the Doctor replied in a similar tone.
"These people need your help," Marion finished, helping Harry to his feet.
The Doctor peeked back out of the TARDIS room and squinted his eyes carefully. Marion followed his gaze back to the Brigadier. His eyes were a lot more focused than they had been before.
He stepped away from the TARDIS and stepped closer and closer to the Brigadier. The other man backed up slowly.
"Wait a moment, old chap," said the Doctor, "I know you, don't I? Marion, I know him don't I? He looks familiar," he turned back to the Brigadier, "You look familiar,"
"Well of course I do!"
The Doctor began staring at the Brigadier intently.
"Now don't tell me...Military man, am I right? Hannibal?" he shook his head, "No, wrong period. Alexander the Great? Still wrong. Got it! Lethbridge-Stewart! Brigadier Alastair Lethbridge-Stewart!" the Doctor reached out and shook the man's hand as if he was a famous historical figure he'd heard a lot about and had always wanted to meet and not the man who had basically been his boss for the past four or five years.
The Doctor then turned on his heels to face Sarah Jane and his eyes brightened even more. "And Sarah Jane Smith!" he hugged her tight and spun her around, "Well, well, well, this is quite a reunion!"
He set Sarah Jane back down.
"Doctor, you know us!"
"Well of course I do!" he said as if that was obvious. He turned his head back to the Brigadier. "Well, this is all very pleasant, but we're not here to socialize. We've got a job to do. You mentioned something about a Robbery right,"
The Doctor had gone back inside of time TARDIS, this time to change into something that "fit" him better instead of Three's old suit instead of trying to leave.
Meanwhile, Sarah Jane was sitting in a nearby chair while Marion quickly jotted down everything she thought that it might be good for Sarah Jane to know when she went to do her investigations. It gave her some practice for what she'd say to Jack. It wasn't detailed. And there was nothing in there that would make a lot of sense out of context. But it would help especially since Sarah hadn't asked her to go with her. And Marion wouldn't have gone even if she had offered. She was staying with the Doctor for the time being, and they both knew that.
"Why didn't he recognize me," Sarah suddenly asked, "Why'd he-?"
Why'd he recognize you and not me? Why'd he stop to take you, and not me?
Marion looked up at the Doctor. "He latched onto me because I was there both times he woke up and out of everyone here, he's known me the longest. He barely recognized you or the Brigadier at first. His brain's a little bit shaken up and his memory is still a little erratic at the moment. You gotta remember, pretty much every cell in his body was breaking down. He was dying! Is there any surprise that when he woke back up again, he had a few screws that needed tightening,"
"But you don't,"
Marion stopped writing. "What?"
"I've seen you die plenty of times and I've never seen you-".
Whatever expression had flickered across Marion's face, it made Sarah Jane stop in her tracks.
"Marion, I'm so sor-,"
"No," Marion waved it off. She started bouncing her leg under the table. "It's alright," It wasn't like Marion wasn't aware of that fact. And if she'd forgotten, she's seen the Associate just a few hours ago as she'd seen a hologram of her when she'd first arrived. They had been covered in discoloration, and she knew what that meant. It wasn't nice to be reminded, but she wasn't going to hold it against Sarah Jane "Anyway, the difference is that I was born, and as far as I know, am human. The Doctor's not any more human than a hare is a rabbit. Any similarities are barely more than skin deep. And, I don't have much to support this, it's just a hunch, but I'm pretty sure that his brain being a little bit..." Marion made a gesture with her hand. "right now is a feature, not a bug. Scramble his memories temporarily for a bit so he doesn't remember what it's like to die, or, judging by those faces he was making, how much it hurts to change. Bet even after things even out, he won't fully remember what that was like,"
"But you do," she finished.
Marion grimaced and finished up the last little bit of information that she deemed important. She folded the note in half and then slid it to Sarah Jane.
"Welp, here you go!" Marion said with a smile that clearly said: I heard what you said and while you aren't wrong, I really wish that you would drop it, "Hope that this helps!" she said with her mouth
"Thank you!" Sarahs' mouth said.
'Sorry,' her face said.
"No problem,"
Next Chapter: Pretty Crummy Bot You Got There
Harry: You know what, Miss Henson seems like a pretty reasonable woman, and she clearly knows how to keep her friend from hurting himself when he's already injured. Plus, whatever language he speaks, she speaks it also! The man's far too manic already. Surely she'll help me get a sedative in him so his heart doesn't give out.
Marion, still a little bit shaken from having to see the Doctor die two times in less than a day and knowing that the Doctor's body responds unpredictably to most Earth drugs and so if she lets Harry sedate him, she might have to see him die for the third time: Try it, and I'll turn your Humerus into powder. I'm not fucking around.
Oh, by the way, if you're wondering if the thing about earlier regenerations being slower, less explosive, and more painful is canon or headcanon. It's a little bit of column A and a little bit of column B.
So, the part about Time Lords in their sixth or later regeneration having to do a medical check on Gallifrey before leaving in a TARDIS on the off chance that they might die and destroy their console room with how erratic the regenerations can be is canon. It's in the official Type 40 TARDIS manual. We can actually see that in the way that in classic who, regenerations basically looked like the old face slowly shifting into the new one, while in nuwho we get a golden explosion.
So, earlier regenerations being less erratic and explosive than later ones is canon.
NuWho regenerations happen in seconds once they actually kick off. Classic Who ones seem to take a few minutes. This suggests that later regenerations are much quicker than older ones.
Now, onto the headcanons that are kinda based on evidence, but also just me adding a little angst to the pot.
The "the first few regenerations are more painful" thing is based on the differences in the way that regeneration is described in the target novels for Power of the Daleks and Doctor Who and the Giant Robot vs The Christmas Invasion and Twice Upon a Time. The latter two more or less gloss over the issue and imply that it's quick. Power of the Daleks on the other hand, spends a few pages talking about how a newly regenerated Two is in too much pain to think about more than one thing at a time and while Doctor Who and the Giant Robot doesn't give us Four regenerating from his point of view, there's a bit with the Brigadier talking about how he can still see the Doctor's face contorted in pain in his mind's eye.
So yeah.
Oh also, side note, you know how I've mentioned several times that I write down scenes that I haven't had a place to put yet, but I'm absolutely going to at some point. I already have One's regeneration into Two down in my notebook.
I don't think I DIRECTLY said why Marion heard the Doctor's voice as lilting, but I think most of you are smart enough to connect the dots.