Gallifreyan Nature: Chapter 29

[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 Doctor’s head jerked up, as he felt the warnings trickle into his mind.  The Family was near.  “No, not yet, not yet,” he whispered, hearts giving a sudden, painful squeeze, but they wouldn’t listen.  They could get in now-they had the watch.  Which meant, regretfully, that time had slipped through his fingers like sand from an hourglass.  In a second he was on his feet, ever so carefully easing his hands beneath her legs and back, lifting her gently as not to spoil her rest.  Ever so slowly he carried her down the hallway-shorter this time, thanks to the TARDIS-and felt as if he was back on the Moon, taking those shaky, uncertain steps to make sure they’d all make it through the day.  It wasn’t the same, though.  For one thing, he had been completely certain that she’d make it alive out of that night.  Well, as certain as he ever got, in his travels.  In not too long, he was in the control room, the gold of the walls and the eerily green glowing column in the center reassuring him with their familiar, alive presence.  As he maneuvered to get to the controls for the doors, Martha whimpered and clutched at his jacket, seeking the security of his presence, as if, just by being there, for her, the monsters disappeared, ceased to be frightening.  And maybe, just maybe, that was true.  He pulled her closer, kissing the top of her head.  The Gallifreyan in him asked for some time, a few seconds to do what he should’ve done a long time ago and reassure her, be there for her in a way he’d never dared to do before, but the Time Lord in him stated flatly that there was no more time, that he’d be able to comfort her later.

‘It’s always a later with you, isn’t it?’ he berated himself silently as he made a dash for it.  ‘You’ll tell her later, you’ll have a good long talk, everything’ll just work out fine if you just give it a little time.’

As soon as he judged he was far enough away from the poor TARDIS about to be scuttled, he quickly laid Martha down comfortably and took the moment to breathe.  All right, so he ran a lot-that still didn’t mean that he wasn’t feeling slightly out of oxygen.  Better than earlier, though.  Better than when he was dying.

Martha stirred, and instantly he knelt down beside her.  Her eyes shakily opened on his smiling face. 

“Hey, you.”  He reached over to take her hand.

“Doctor?” Instantly, Miss Jones tried to sit up, but eventually gave up with an ‘owww…’ 

The expression on his face morphed into one of concern.  “Take it easy.  You were stabbed.  That hurts.  It happened to me once, a long time ago…well, not obviously me me.  The other me.”

Martha frowned.  “Doctor, I have the strangest of memories…and John Smith….”

“…took off somewhere with Joan Redfern.  Those aren’t just dreams, you know.  They really are memories.  It is Dan.  Hello.”  With his other hand, he waved at her, grinning-but the worry never strayed far from his eyes.

Martha’s eyes widened, and then she hugged him close to her.  Dan breathed in a little more deeply.  She’d make it.  He wasn’t willing to look too much beyond that.

He held her away from him before she was going to pull away, staring deep into her eyes.  “Okay, another big revelation, before we go anywhere.  I didn’t tell you, and it nearly killed you.  So you have gotta just…listen, okay?  I was trying to figure out a good way to say it, but…it never came up.  It never does.  With me, I mean.” He took a big breath and blurted, “Martha, you’re part Time Lady.”

She just blinked and looked at him with an incredulous look.  “Now I know I’m hallucinating,” she muttered.

“No, seriously.  I wasn’t the ‘correct vessel’, so there was a little bit of leakage.  Into you, and into Latimer.  Enough that you’ve got a longer lifespan, enough that you can regenerate.  You’ve even become younger, about my visual age.  Now, you won’t live as long, and the regenerations aren’t quite as perfect as, say, mine, or even a younger Time Lord or Lady.  But your soul isn’t perfectly human anymore.  You probably can learn Gallifreyan, even though you may have an accent.  If I had told you earlier, you wouldn’t have been in so much danger.  I felt silly and didn’t tell you and you might have died…” he realized he was close to choking and paused to get the lump out of his throat.

“How can I be a Time Lord?  I can’t have suddenly changed species.”  That was the doctor in her, analyzing it scientifically.

“It’s Time Lady.  And no, technically, that’s not my species, although it’s pretty much used interchangeably.  I’m a Gallifreyan, which doesn’t sound as good, which is perhaps why no one uses it.” 

Martha smiled, which was his intent all along.  The Doctor turned more serious.  “Therefore, you didn’t change species.  Only the elite on Gallifrey got to be Time Lords, and you’re a human and got a whiff of it.  Boy, would that have them mad!”  The smile on Dan’s face faded as he realized the full implications of what he’d said.  He stroked Martha’s chin.  “You actually were right all along, about what the Face of Boe said.  What he meant was the Master, but because of you, I’m not alone anymore either.”

She still wasn’t warming up as much as he’d like, so he leaned over and kissed her tenderly, at the same time sharing the spark of their love without hurting her.  He was very careful, especially with her wound.  She returned it, at first nervously, then losing her shy demeanor.

When he pulled away, her eyes met his in full understanding.  “I’m glad it wasn’t a dream,” she remarked, and he didn’t have to ask what she was on about.

The gorgeous smile was on his face again.  “Can you walk?” he asked, a bright twinkle in his eye.  Martha could tell it was a bit of a mask-he was watching her like a hawk, and at the first sign of pain he’d act to make it all go away.  He was magic like that sometimes.

Doctor Jones sighed.  “We’ll see, won’t we?”  She stood up slowly, letting her weight rest mostly on the tall, lean form next to her.  Martha winced slightly, and instantly his arm snaked underneath her shoulder, supporting her with that strength that never ceased to amaze her.  “I’m all right,” she reassured him, “…at least, mostly.  It’s a little sore, but not enough that it could be a huge problem.”

He nodded, concern still tinting most of his features.  “Well, if you need a rest, just tell me.  Obviously, we can’t if we’re being chased, but I can find some way to help you out.”

Martha smiled and nodded.  She rested her head on his shoulder.  The other hand came up to stroke her hair, just for a second.  Then he eased his other arm out.  “Good for running?” he queried, staring somewhere in the clearing behind them.

“Let’s try it,” Miss Jones tried to sound stronger than she felt.

In an instant, they were off, and the Doctor’s companion noticed her skin prickle with heat.  “What…?” she gasped.

“It’s the Family of Blood.  They were expecting to find us both in the TARDIS, and now that they haven’t, they’ve guessed rightly that we must be nearby.  So they’re burning down the forest.”  The Time Lord’s tone was quite matter-of-fact about it all.

“Aren’t you going to stop them?” Martha asked, wondering why he wasn’t running into action as usual.

“I can’t.  They’re having a temper tantrum, and they can’t get their hands on me.  So I’m…” he gulped, realizing what he was saying, “…running away.  Only for now, mind.” He wiggled his finger at her, as if to prove his point.

“It’s me, isn’t it?  You’re protecting me, and you can’t do that and keep me safe at the same time.” She felt guilty.

He half-smiled at her.  “Maybe.  Not confessing.  If you ever get hurt enough that you feel like you’re dying…think ‘I want to regenerate’.  That’ll help me stop worrying some.  But a time will come when I’ll stop running and face them.  And they really don’t want that, but they’re getting it whether or not they like it.  They wouldn’t take a hint and give up.”

“Where are we going?  The TARDIS?”

He shook his head emphatically.  “They’ve got the TARDIS,” he stated, not a hint of the emotion he was feeling showing on his face.

“I’m so sorry,” she hugged him gently, aware of the pain he must be feeling.  It was his ship, after all, and his relationship with her was very close.  It wasn’t that of a wife or a sister or any sort of category she could think of.  It was just…he was a traveler, and she was his timeship.  Only it was so much more than that.  She wasn’t sure that with her frame of understanding she could ever understand it fully.

He glanced away, jaw tightening.  “That’s okay.”  The tone belied the meaning of the words.  “I’ve got you, and that’s more important.  After this…we can figure things out.”

They crept along in the woods, and she could hear the laughter behind them, with an evil, gloating sound to it.  Without meaning to, the Doctor’s hand tightened on hers, betraying his agitation.  Every bit of him, she could tell, was fighting walking away, fighting doing what he had to do.  Every step he took made him even more tense, though none of it showed on his face.

A thought occurred to Martha, and she asked, “Doctor, where…”

She never finished her statement.  One of his hands came up and wrapped itself around her mouth, without any warning; the other surreptitiously drawing his sonic out of its pocket.  He was semi-crouching now, and completely, utterly focused.  His eyes warily watched as something moved-and she finally saw it was one of the straw men.  He was ready in a second, she saw, to do battle, but he was waiting to see if they’d been spotted-or were likely to be.

Another scarecrow lumbered into sight.  They met, and the Doctor cocked his head, watching the two, and…listening?  She didn’t think they could speak, but it was possible he was picking up something else.  He was psychic to a certain extent, she knew, and it wasn’t implausible that Time Lords had even more extra senses than just that.

One of the scarecrows went back the way it came.  The other stood in place, just for a moment, then began walking towards them.  If she had thought the Time Lord was tense before, she now had a new standard to judge him by.  Every muscle in his body tightened, his eyes went to hers for a moment, and he partially let his hand covering her mouth slacken.  He was counting on her to act, but she wasn’t quite certain what he wanted her to do.  He probably wanted her to stay out of the way, make sure that she didn’t get hurt by the warrior for the Family, but she didn’t get a chance to find out.  The straw man wandered past their hiding spot, and the Doctor cranked his head around to watch.  Apparently, whatever he saw made him relax-she could feel his muscles ease up, all at once, and he stopped covering her mouth entirely.  Still, it was a second before he felt confident enough to edge out of their cover behind the tree.  He cast glances in all directions, then sighed in relief.  “Blimey, that was a bit close.  You all right?”

He reached out a hand, and she gratefully took it as he began pulling her on again, nodding in answer to the question.  “So, Doctor, where are we going?”

“Apparently, there’s this huge cave system that the inhabitants of…um, around here,” he waved his arm vaguely, “…go when there’s trouble.  Actually, now that I think about it, it’s a lot like Helm’s Deep, in the Lord of the Rings.  The similarities are quite striking, although to be able to judge whether the caves look alike, we have to reach there first.”

“And you’d know because you’ve been there.”  Martha didn’t bother to disguise her incredulity.  She was exhausted and didn’t believe everything he told her, no matter how sure of himself he sounded.

“Yup,” he answered cheerfully, sounding very pleased with himself.

She stared at him for a few moments, ignoring her stumbling feet.  “Next you’re going to tell me you’re Gandalf.”

He just smiled his widest smile at her.  The silence stretched on, and Miss Jones began to believe he meant it.  After another second or so, he laughed out loud and shook his head.  “Nope.  But we’re pals.  I’m one of the Istari, you know.”  In response to her blank stare, he guessed, face falling a bit, “No idea what that means.”

She nodded gently.

“Oh,” he shrugged sadly, “…just one of the Order of Wizards.  Relation to the…um, actually I don’t remember this part.  Maia.  Maybe?  Anyway, can change appearance, knows more than everyone else in the room, and can see a bit of the currents of Time….”

“You mean, Gandalf was a Time Lord?”  He had to be pulling her leg on this one.

The boyish grin was back again.  “No way!  He’s just, you know, a bit similar.  Races exist out there in the cosmos that even I don’t know about, that no Time Lord ever did….”

He rambled on, and she let herself, for a while, forget about everything-the countryside, still being bombarded from the Family’s ship, the scarecrows, still wandering around ready to cause havoc, and even the Family itself.  For now, she was just thankful to have his hand in hers, to have his voice washing over her, soothing her.

In that mood, it was unlikely that, even if she’d been paying attention, she would have noticed the scarecrow behind them, turning its head on its side and studying them closely.  The Doctor may have noticed the sound in the underbrush as it finally began following them, but he was too busy showing off for his companion…