Gallifreyan Nature: Chapter 15

[nevermoreraven]

Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: Teen
DISCLAIMER: Other people have actually read this one before the internet.  Yes, I know.  It's weird.
Summary: This is a rewrite of the Human Nature/Family of Blood two-parter, because I really liked Latimer.  It's long.  I liked it pretty well at the time, as did the other readers, so let's see how well it held up.  ...so far, so good.  also I actually bothered to tab for once on this one.
It's not finished, but it's fairly close.

 

The rest of the day Martha acted morose, worse than when he’d been beaten.  Nothing could make her smile, and Smith started to worry about his servant.  She’d been really smitten.  The boy was charming, yes, but eventually she should remember her place.  She’d always been so good before.

Nurse Redfern seemed vindicated, and treated Miss Jones worse than she’d ever dared before.  Yes, she’d done wrong, John thought, but it wasn’t really her fault.  She’d been led off the path of right by a cunning, charismatic, handsome boy, who, in the end, was only as lonely as she.  He’d have to have a talk with them both about it-Martha to assure her that everything would be fine, Redfern to remind that she couldn’t be expected to behave like an ordinary person would.

Martha felt like screaming.  It wasn’t right; surely someone had to see that.  But she’d given up on relying on Mr. Smith to do anything useful.  If nothing else, she could get word to this Lord Brixton, tell him how much she needed Dan.  He sounded like he’d understand, like he’d worked at or with Torchwood.  Surely that would entitle him to some degree of compassion.  Never mind the fact that he seemed to know a Daniel Winters.  He’d help her, she was sure.  And the Doctor would understand her not wanting to abandon a fellow Time Lord.  He was so much more useful than his human counterpart any day.  And even if he didn’t love her, in the way Dan did, he wanted her to be happy, the way mates did when looking after each other.

 

This was going to be one of those days Martha slept in the TARDIS.  She didn’t want to be near her fellow human beings.  She wished the Doctor would show up and take her to some century where he could brag about how brilliant the human race was, because she was beginning to forget why they were one of the most amazing species in the universe, and she just needed to hear him babble about why he loved hanging out on Earth.

She made sure no one was following her.  Considering the embarrassment of the morning, she wouldn’t be surprised if someone decided that she needed a chaperone, or, worse, decided that her behavior was suspicious enough to warrant a second investigation.  She noticed nothing-not evil aliens, clomping after her to kill, or mutants driven just a little crazy, or humans without the basis of understanding trying to ‘look out for her welfare.’

Miss Jones felt like crying, but for once in this awful time zone she didn’t give in to the impulse.  Oh, she never cried in front of the Headmaster, teachers, or arrogant little pupils-didn’t want to give them the satisfaction.  She was the strong one, and she would give off that impression to everyone-but Jenny.  Her mate knew some of the pain she bore, but not all of it.  Most of all, she cried when she was in the TARDIS, though she always cleaned it up, wanting the timeship to be spotless when the Doctor stepped into it once again.  Even though, considering his unkempt hair and disorganized state of mind, it’d probably weird him out more than anything.  Still, she wanted to take care of it better than she would a borrowed car.  She’d be as strong as her Doctor, her Dan, and give him something to be proud of.  Because she wasn’t one to knuckle under-this was Martha Jones, and she certainly wasn’t afraid of some silly humans when she’d faced Judoon and Daleks.

She almost didn’t notice the squeak when she stepped into a small clearing, but she noticed the small blanket and canteen when she tripped over them.  She looked around urgently, trying to figure out what was going on.

“Who’s there?” she called out, forcing the Doctor’s fearlessness into her voice.  She hoped it wasn’t the Family; she was hardly prepared, here and now.

An almost theatrical gasp came at her out of the darkness, then Dan’s incredulous tone broke the silence.  “Martha?!”

“Dan!”  She knew he couldn’t see her face, but she hoped he could hear her extreme happiness to see-er, hear from him.

A thump came to her ears-the sound of something large falling out of a tree, for example.  “Dan!  You okay?”  She didn’t wait for the answer, dashing to the place where she’d guessed the sound came from.

It seemed that, for some reason, he’d decided to hide in a tree, but lost his balance.  In an instant, she was propping the Time Lord up against the tree trunk, carefully checking him for any injuries, hands gentle but professional.

He seemed a little limp, with more strength than after he’d been caned, but the lack of his usual energy and exuberance tore her apart.  “I’m all right,” he managed, a little fussily.  Still, he wasn’t as bad as the Doctor with Doctor Jones.  He laid his head on her shoulder and seemed ready to fall asleep against her.

“What is it this time?  You’re worse at taking care of yourself than the Doctor is.”  She didn’t mean her stern tone, but she was seriously worried about him.

He managed a lopsided smile.  “I don’t know, actually.  Just feel a little weak.  It may be the lack of food-and I’ve nearly run out of water.”

“But…the TARDIS….” she mumbled, trying to straighten the back of his collar.

“Can’t.  The Family of Blood’s here, and I’m afraid they might be watching me now.  I can’t lead them to the TARDIS…that would be about as bad as them getting their hands on the essence of a Time Lord.”  With a slight sigh of frustration, he wriggled around, getting a better pillow out of her, and in the meantime making it really difficult for her to move her arms.

She giggled softly.  “Dan!”

“Mmm?” he stared at her through half-closed eyelids.

Martha forgot who she was talking to.  “For not liking cats, you certainly like to act like them sometimes.”

“Mmm…” He probably wasn’t even registering what she was saying, but reached up to pull her hand next to his own freckled face.

“Dan…you’ve got to move.  I can’t get the blanket over you if you don’t, and I think you need it…”  She reached her other hand, touched his forehead.  The heat she found there wasn’t good.  He had a fever, which meant…

She gulped as she thought of all the possible very deadly diseases you found in the early twentieth century that might be attacking her sweetheart, but then the doctor in her came back and told her she had a duty to her patient, never mind her boyfriend.  She wouldn’t leave him.

When his eyes next opened, only slightly focusing on her face, she knew that he was awake, or at least struggling to keep a hold on consciousness.  “I’ll…I’ll try for you, Martha.”  He crawled off her lap and half-fell next to her.

She fetched the blanket and gently spread it over his body.  She might get a little cold, but she’d survive.  At least she’d thought to grab a jacket, putting it over herself and curling up next to her Doctor to keep an eye on him and be on hand in case he needed anything.

During the middle of the night he just began screaming out of the blue.  It woke Martha up out of another nice dream, and at first she thought that the Family had found them.  Then she realized that they were alone in the woods, and felt Dan’s forehead.  “Blazing hot,” she remarked, upset, and tried shaking him.  It sounded like he was having some sort of nightmare-and considering the fact that he’d probably seen his homeworld burn, any horrible dream must be killing him slowly, emotionally.

“Dan!  Dan, can you hear me?  I’m here for you.  I love you.  Can you hear me, Doctor?  I love you!”  If he hadn’t chosen that moment to wake up, she would have started to cry all over his nice school clothes.

He shuddered and was suddenly instantly awake.  “Oh, Martha…”  He clutched at her jacket for comfort, but it just came off.  He stared at it, for an instant dumbfounded, then chuckled, tears dropping off his chin.  Miss Jones pulled him to her, and they hugged for what seemed like a long time, ignoring the cold.  Some of the tears that got their clothes wet were hers, too, but she wasn’t going to say anything.  Neither of them wanted to pull out of the embrace-this time, they just needed each other for comfort in the face of unspeakable terrors.  Whatever it was he’d been dreaming about, it must have been terrible.

Finally, he pulled away, lips trembling, eyes threatening to well up again.  Almost annoyed, he wiped them away with the back of his hand.  Martha felt the worry-would he just lock her out, as the Doctor had done whenever he was hurting inside?  She couldn’t bear it.  She was a doctor-her purpose in life was to make people feel better, yet she couldn’t even help the Doctor out with a lost love and the loss of his home.

“What’s wrong, Dan?”  She took his arm, scooting herself closer to him, so possibly her presence could help him.

Winters closed his eyes, in obvious emotional pain, then opened them and managed a laugh.  “It’s like in Babylon 5.  Brilliant show, human of course.  Have you seen it?”

Wordlessly, she shook her head.  She didn’t want to spoil his secret-telling session.

“There’s this scene.  The captain of this space station’s got a girlfriend at this point, and he’s talking to a pastor, who tells him that he’s taking too much on himself.  The captain-his name is Sheridan, by the way-dismisses that sentiment.  He can’t delegate work, because he doesn’t want to dump his load off on someone else.  He doesn’t want to confide in people, small things, big things, everything, because he doesn’t think he has the right to share his troubles with others.  He loves them too much, you see, and so he doesn’t want to burden them.  But that’s part of being a loved one, he explains-you want to help.  Yeah, okay, so you’ve got your own problems, never mind taking on other people’s.  But whenever you help out a friend, a loved one…a stranger, you feel better inside.  And that’s what you’re giving them.  An insight into your life.  And they feel really, really good when they can provide a shoulder to lean on.”

Martha thought about his story and smiled.  “You realize, you didn’t share a thing.  You just told an interesting story.”

Dan blushed, a mixture of embarrassed and surprised.  “Umm…right….yeah, sorry.”  He hesitated for a second, and Martha started thinking he wouldn’t speak again.  She was about to speak up to prompt him, when he started talking.  “It’s usually a mixture of Daleks and Cybermen, with the Beast thrown in, just for fun.”  He looked away into the distance, suddenly so far away from her.  “I dreamed of the Family ripping you apart,” he stated matter-of-factly, in the tone that the Doctor never used unless he was slowly dying inside.  “I watched them-they were laughing, and I felt such a cold anger at them.  I wouldn’t kill them-that was such a final ending, so merciful.  I didn’t have such pity left in me.  I would let them live.  I would make them live with their failure, live with the horror and hope that someday they would regret what they’d done.  I’d make sure their lives were a tortured, unending pain.  I would never feel sorry for it, though, never feel compassion stir again in my hearts.  I’d become like the Cybermen, no emotion, remaking the world in my image.”  The wrath in his voice scared her, and then he looked at her, eyes moist-and horrified.  “Sometimes I’m so much like him-like the Doctor.  Sometimes the Time Lords would talk about chaining him-not literally, but you know-making him do what they want.  But most were scared of him, scared of the terror he could bring if only he so chose.  We believed that he was better than us, that he would never dare.  But others worried.”  She knew the ‘we’ only referred to Time Lords in general, not him as one of the group that messed around with the Doctor’s life.  Not when they were related, in more ways than just blood.  Their every action was so close.  He gulped loudly, fear in his every movement.  “It’s more like-the potential’s there, and it scares me to death.  But it’ll never happen.  The good’s too strong.”

He bit his lip nervously, then added, “And then there was a second one.  You’d been stabbed-I touched this big gaping hole in your stomach-it looked like it was grinning at me, making fun.  I touched your cheek, and you woke, but you knew I couldn’t do anything-it was too late.  You didn’t blame me, though.  I could’ve handled that.  You just…forgave me.  You forgave me, and you wanted to die in my arms.  You smiled to see me, and I…I couldn’t….I didn’t want you to see me crying-that’s the last thing I wanted you to see.  Er…rather, it wasn’t the last thing I wanted you to see, if you know what I mean.  But I pulled you to me and kissed you, because it seemed the decent thing to do-some comfort, in the end.  And it was the best kiss I ever had.  After that, I just sort of embraced you, and you died in my arms.  Your corpse still smiled, and I held onto your broken body.  And…I gave up.  I didn’t go stop your killers.  I just sort of knelt there, holding your body, until they came and killed me too.”

Martha blinked, overwhelmed.  “That’s…that’s a lot.  I understand the screaming now.”

Dan smiled at her as best he could.  “Yeah, I know…All the other students, they’re all worrying about how they’re gonna come off to the others or getting homework done or doing well in class.  Ordinary concerns.  Not me.”

Miss Jones smiled at that one.  “Dan, you’re not ordinary.  Never will be, you know.  Not to me.”  She reached out a hand and stroked his freckled cheek, marveling at the smoothness of the skin.

His epidermis was still much hotter than she was used to, but at least it hadn’t been as bad as it had after the Doctor had been taken over by the living sun.  And at least he was conscious, if a bit out of it.

He smiled, shivered, leaning against her, like mates sometimes did on a picnic.  She remembered a time that Tish had been leaning against her in exactly the same way, and she did what she had then, putting her arm around Winters’ shoulders and pulling him closer, kissing the top of his head.  He grinned sleepily.

“Martha, you’re amazing.”  He’d already begun falling asleep against her, all bad dreams forgotten in the comfort of her arms.  Like the Doctor, he’d remember them later, become aloof and withdrawn, but at least he could tell her more than her time-traveling companion ever did.  At least she could reassure him in the best way she could.