Doctor Who and the Ties that Bind, 2
Doctor Who and the Ties that Bind.
Part Two
Improvisation
There was no Time here, inside Lei-yu's magical, wonderful, living ship. Well there was a personal time, which without hearts would not beat and blood would not flow, but there was no Time as in the thing that flowed one way through the rest of the universe. Making that distinction had been difficult. She understood this concept, like how things could be bigger on the inside then the outside, to have math that explained it. Unlike the simple changes in dimension that the latter required, the idea that there was no Time here was far too complex for her to understand without a lifetime of intense study. For those who were primitive but grasped this truth the Doctor's craft must have seemed rather magical. As it was, she knew better then to fall into the trap of thinking there was a mystical reason for even such a difficult property of the ship's existence. Instead of giving herself headaches trying to understand something so far beyond her, however, the dark headed girl chose to just accept the situation. Because she acknowledged the idea, one the first things that River Tam noticed once she woke up was the innate sense of there being no Time - no flow of time through her awareness. While she had been unsettled by this at first, she was now becoming used to this gauge of what state of “space” they were traveling through. It had taken her two sleep-cycles to grasp exactly what it had been that bothered her. Now she was sitting up in bed, surrounded by things that were but were not hers, listening to the hum of the walls, actually feeling a sense of peace and safety that she had not experienced in a very long while.
That sense of peace and safety told her that the ship, TARDIS, the golden Lady, liked her. Quite frankly, she liked the golden Lady too. At the moment there was a whispered song flowing through River's mind that expressed how the ship was feeling. It was aggrieved that she was in pain, worried about something else, doing some type of search for something, and trying to sooth her back to sleep at the same time. Mei-Mei smiled softly and stroked the wall above her headboard as the whispering narrowed down to soothing her, driving away the intense fire in her brain that would cripple her without the ship standing between her and the cause of it. That the ship would focus so much effort on her, and her alone, gave River the strength to push aside the last embers of the agony and function as a semi-normal person. Knowing that whatever the goal had been with the cutting into her brain would not trigger her to drop again into madness eased her mind. And the ship had stepped in to filter things for her, much as the Doctor had done, allowing her to feel things when she could cope with them, to warn her or teach her or habituate her to the sensations. While the ship was far more alien in temperament then it's pilot was, River knew that the golden Lady did little without reason. While Simon needed to learn and grow just as much as she did, the only way they could was if they had a safe environment. She suspected that the inside of the TARDIS was about as safe as they were going to get. And besides, she felt welcome here.
She supposed, given the clues-- River’s eyes were drawn again to the items in the room - that it was just as well that she did feel wanted here. It was uncanny as to how the ship had known what would make her feel accepted, the décor, the colors, the style of pieces even the way they transposed from on era to another all screamed out to her that this was home. Not that all the items were hers or new or even like what she had left behind. Many of them seemed to have belonged to someone else. That other person, likely a young woman, had taken care of them lovingly. One of those items caught and held her attention more than any other. On her bedside table was a picture of a young woman with dark, short hair that framed her head and deep brown eyes the color of River’s own, and an older man in a Victorian style suit with silver-white hair brushing his shoulders. The frame alone was attractive to her. But the image made it irresistible. She picked it up and looked at it. The woman’s face she knew from an antique hologram that sat on the mantle in the dining room of the Tam estate. Although the hologram had been of an older woman, one in her late twenties or early thirties, there was no mistaking that this picture was the same person. River's mother had told her much about the image itself, how she had come by it, where it was from (Earth-that-Was), and the monetary value of it (priceless).
What her mother had not known, indeed no one had known, was much about the woman in the hologram. They knew her name. Susan. Susan Campbell. They knew she was known as a brilliant mind at some point in Earth-that-Was's history, just before people started leaving the planet in sleeper ships. They knew she had bore three boys for a man named David. From those three sons, Susan's blood ran through history, down eleven generations. Susan Cambell was a distant ancestor on River Tam's mother’s side. But why was this picture here? Surely nothing the ship did was random. If the picture was here then there must be some connection she was meant to uncover.
What about the old man in the image? Who was he? Something about the old man with the sharp features and mischievous eyes standing behind Susan in the image was -- familiar -- too, although River had not been able to place it. She knew she’d not seen the man before, except perhaps in similar features of her great uncles. Her mother’s family had very few girls although no one knew why. And her uncles and great uncles and so on, all really looked vastly different from each other, so the ‘similar’ wasn’t really. But there was something that drew her back to that picture. Maybe it was the posture of the pair that spoke of deep affection across the generations, or maybe it was the protective nature she sensed about how Susan stood between the old man and the world in general.
She wished she could see auras in still images. She couldn’t though, and it hurt too much if she thought too deeply about anything for a long period of time. Setting aside the attempt at puzzling out the mystery of why the Doctor’s ship had a picture of someone from her family tree, River rubbed her forehead with one hand as she placed the frame back on her nightstand. Adding her other hand to the effort, she rubbed her temples working the tension and pain away. Too much deep pondering caused the fire in her brain to surge back to the forefront, although with the ship's help she could concentrate and submerge it. It was, at least, no longer in her body crippling every part of her like it had been.
Disjointedly, her mind flitted through some of the old lessons she had read through but missed the lectures on when she changed schools, bounced over several conversations she had with others at various times, and finally settled on how the blankets felt on her skin. Soft, plush, warm, but not heavy-- strange and new fabric, unlike anything else she knew. Of course the nightgown she was wearing had similar oddities. It was made of a fiber that flowed like worn cotton, light and breezy, but felt like the softest of real leather chamois. It was a pale blue with tiny lavender flowers spilling across it and a touch of frills in the trim that was girlish without being garish. It kept her warm but not too warm.
The golden Lady prompted her with a sensation that meant 'surely you are still tired?' Honestly, she should still be sleeping. But there was something- some reason she was awake. Something had roused her, not that she’d been sleeping well in the first place. She closed her brown eyes and listened. Very light footfalls with a unique stride passed her door. She pinched the bridge of her nose as she forced the laser-like sweeps of hot back. The Doctor rarely slept. A short catnap often was enough for him. Although he was sleeping slightly more at the moment, and she knew that was her fault. She did not even think, just acting on impulse, only aware of what she was doing as the cooler air hit her legs with the swish of the bedding as it came off her legs. She found herself yanking the door open, “Doctor?”
He paused about half way to the next door, but not looking like he was aiming for it. His thoughts were shrouded in mystery to her at the moment. She was fearful that he had decided he was done with her. His reaction was not supportive of that fear, though. He was looking at her with an unreadable expression, “Mei-Mei?” She could almost hear the 'why are you not sleeping' that was unspoken.
River frowned, her eyes and mind searching for something to latch onto to explain her actions. The golden Lady herself was shielding now, far more effectively than the Doctor could, and the dark-haired young woman realized how much of himself that the man gave her with the time and effort he put forth on that planet. The difference was immense. The golden Lady was a different element, not opposing her, but it just wasn’t the same. It was this missing thing, the connection of their shared element that she longed for. She ached for that feeling. Had it really been such a short time ago that he’d touched her, brushing his hand over her back or his fingers through her hair? Did he also miss the closeness they had when he would teach her things that she so longed to learn? Surely she was not alone in needing that connection of minds that had bound them so tightly together. It seemed like a lifetime ago, now. He’d given of himself so entirely and asked for nothing in return. She had repaid him with agony beyond what anyone should ever be forced to endure.
The tears were starting to build in her eyes as she remembered those moments again, how hard she struggled against the alien energy that was seeking to do so much harm now. She had tried to lock it away, to stay silent as the alien thing moved through her. She tried to warn him away, to control her body, to keep him safe, but nothing worked. And while the ship could ease the pain it did not sooth the burn. She felt so hot, so parched, like rain had never fallen upon her and she needed it. Badly. She missed him terribly and was scared that he was gone from her forever. At this moment he was locked away from her, behind shields that she once had been inside of. The distance seemed like it was too great to cross. How had they come to this point? Did he not want her anymore? Frozen, she stood looking at him, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill from her eyes. She - loved, needed, desired - and was so very sure that he’d reject her. A sob rose from her throat.
He did not turn away, as she almost expected him too. Her dad would have, she knew. He would have told her that she was too old for being coddled. But the Doctor was not like that. The shields he had up seemed to crack and shatter, like ice under a hammer, as he spoke, “Oh, child.” It took him less time to close the distance then she thought it possibly could, “Why are you crying?” His arms came up to enfold her into his embrace. His scent flowed around her, honey and spices, warmed and rich. She gulped it up as the sobs of relief washed over her.
Although what she truly wanted was not purely physical, she melted into him, noting that he was -- warm -- almost the same temperature as a human. Dangerously heated. She gripped him with a panicked strength fueled by her certainty that he was dying, “Hurt you.”
Even though she had not spoken it out loud, he knew somehow what the root of her fear was, 'I won’t do that to you beloved.' His voice caressed through her soul, 'I am not going to die.' His fingers carded through her hair, gentle pressure against her scalp that was welcomed but also a reminder of the fact that he was not well.
She lashed out at him with a wave of intense emotions, 'Don’t make promises you can’t keep!' She’d forgiven him about Suleiman, but she’d never forgive him if he died. She needed him still, surely he knew this.
The Doctor both blocked her emotional outpouring and soaked it in. He never meant to lie to her. He could not have prevented that death, not with the boy so determined to help the rest of them make it. That River had been the one person the lad was thinking of when he went was something that the older man figured was best kept to himself. He closed his eyes and hugged her tighter, letting her clutch him like he was her support. “This was not your fault, child. I should have kept better tabs on --”
River shook her head and cut him off, “Not yours either. I wanted to go. Didn’t know what was there. Still don’t know why.”
But he knew why. Or at least suspected why. He kissed her hair and tried not to join her in her tears. How could he deny that this situation, like everything else, was his fault no matter what she or anyone else might think. If he had only been more alert to the future back in his first life, maybe - just maybe - some of this mess would have been avoided. Then again, it was possible that had he not done the things he did blindly then that he would truly be totally alone now. That was a possibility he did not want to face. He needed to get the parasite out of her, and now was just about as good a time as any. His only hope then was to go all the way with it, something few of his people had ever been able to do.
He needed to find six special souls, -Fire, water, earth, air, aether, and void- who were a perfect fit with him and each other. Once that was done, to cure him and kill the living energy-based infection, those six souls would have to know the depths of his crimes and forgive him of them. More importantly, they would have to be willing to step into his life forever. The depths of forgiveness he was asking for would be unbelievable. And he knew that to earn it he would have to forgive himself. River might have been the one to infect him, but she was also the Water element, and shared this with him. He could and should cure her first. He’d learned, rather late in the game, that the most valuable things were those intangibles that could slip through ones fingers like grains of sand. So much lost, and sometimes he wondered if the price had been worth it. Now though, worth it or not, he had another shot at family, and he would be damned if he let that slip away, “I can remove the rest of the fire, if you let me.”
The dark haired young lady was still crying, as though the tears alone could dampen the fire that burned in her brain. She was clinging hard enough to be shaking slightly from the effort, as though he would pull her away. She asked him this time instead of hinting at it, “Recount why? For what reason was I utilized to impair you?” His brown jumper that was rapidly becoming wet and salty from her tears.
While he had not intended on doing this tonight, her upset and self blame made it important that he make a change in his plans. No time like the present, he supposed. She was asking him for the exact information he needed her to see to forgive him. And considering the fact that the TARDIS was keeping them suspended in the vortex at the moment, he really had little choice. The wounds from the War were still way too fresh. Part of him was not ready to face what he'd been forced to do. But - to cure her- to save his Little Water- he would do anything she asked. He knew the parasite split between the two of them was doing far more harm then it would do in just one of them. Since River could not contain it, he would have to. If baring his soul was what she wanted, and that was what she asked him for right now, he’d do it. His mind made up, he steered her into the main hall and toward the currently empty library. They would need to be seated for this. The Time Lord said quietly, “All right, I’ll show you.”
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Simon found his sister and the Doctor in the book filled room when he came in from checking on William, post op. He was thrilled with the results of the operation, fully sure the man would make a clean recovery. He’d never had a better nurse than the TARDIS, and amazingly enough, Carolyn Fry. He’d sent her off to bed but was still far to awake himself to sleep. His intention had been to read some of the more obscure classics he'd spotted in the library, but the sight in front of him caught and held his attention fully, sidetracking every other thought. He looked at the pair and closed his mouth before he disturbed them. They were sitting across from each other in matching chairs, fingers entwined, stature still, intent in a way that locked out the rest of the universe.
This was different than anything he’d witnessed them doing before, like they were sharing something so deep, so profound, that it took everything they had to do it. The sight of their mingling aura was like watching the flow of a whirlpool, flashing blues and tones that all reminded him of water. It was so completely melded that he swore they had a single field instead of two. It was as intimate as walking in on a couple engaging in lovemaking. The erotic sensation from the aura was overwhelming, causing a reaction in his body, increased pulse, tingling, arousal, that was every bit as intense as if he were watching such intimacy too. He almost walked back out into the hallway as he fought with the heat pooling in his groin, hoping to make it go elsewhere before he made a scene.
'Simon?'
The call made him freeze in his tracks. The sensation he was fighting flashed away with the reminder that this was his sister. The sound of her voice in his head alarmed him.
'Simon, he’s dying. He needs us.'
The sharp vibration through the connection he shared with his Mei-Mei jerked into him like a jolt of panic. Neither the Doctor or River had moved, but Simon looked over the Time Lord again, turning his medically trained eye on the man. His normally even and fair complexion was tinged with a flush that was like cinnamon. The man was barely breathing, but his lips were parted slightly and the color of them gave the impression that his body was trying to shed heat any way it could. As he stared at the form he realized that the Time Lord had gone through this in cycles, nearly every one hundred and eighty ticks, since they had entered his ship.
But he knew his medical scans would reveal nothing wrong.
He frowned. Was this the effect of the ‘Doomsday Agent’ that he’d been given the preventive for? Where had River encountered it? And why was it active now? Most importantly, how could he assist?
Almost instantly something passed from River to the Doctor. It looked like molten sludge, and he could feel the heat of it even from the doorway. His alarm rose exponentially with the vision, as the auras between them that had been flowing like water evenly and smoothly the moment before set to a fast boil as the Time Lord absorbed the thick, nearly solid, energy.
Simon rushed over, “Lao tyen, boo! What did you do?” He was speaking to both of them, not sure who to be more worried about. River blinked slowly like she was surfacing from a dream. “Mei-Mei?” The blue aura that surrounds her was the only thing maintaining the aura around the Time Lord as his boiled away. The implications were dreadful. The man was dying, and River was keeping him alive through the force of her will alone.
'Burns. Everything burns.'
“River!” She held tighter to the large hand that was unmoving in her own as if she feared he would pry her away. There was absolutely no way he’d do that. He had no idea what it would do to her if he did. She continued to blink, ignoring him. He tried to force his own panic back. He was hearing his sister’s mental words like she was yelling them across a chasm.
'Even you.'
The Tam scion was out of options, now, as his sister began to cry silently. He’d hoped to never see those fat drops slide down her face again. He placed his hand over the entwined ones closest to him and was plunged into a hell that he couldn’t describe. The pain of it was like being buffeted by a wind from a blast furnace. Like the boiling is pushing him away. 'No!' He thrust himself into the center of it and forced the wind to switch. Where was the cool of the void?
His mind was filled with visions of burning on such a wide scale he couldn’t comprehend it. 'Planets, solar systems, stellar empires, galaxies.' All burning. He couldn’t deny this, what he saw. He knew the truth of it even if it was more appalling than anything he could have possibly imagined. There must be a reason for this. Such destruction just didn’t occur on whim. He felt the hot hand entwined with his sister’s fingers instinctively seeking the feel of the man’s fluttering pulse. 'You can’t go. Just show us why! We need you. '
There was a harsh thunder-like laugh, 'How can you suffer me to exist?'
But before Simon can answer there was another voice, rich like gold, soothing and deep, 'Snail?' The sheer depth of the emotion that flashed through between the Doctor and the new arrival was enough for Simon to know that eventually the two of them would have to address it. River had known the two of them were entwined, had accepted it, even before they themselves had. The Tam scion felt renewed respect for the bronze-skinned ex-ranger. If anyone could pull the Doctor back from his self loathing, Riddick could.
The emotional reaction was mixed, like a renewed hurricane, bitter and angry, yet so very loving, 'Amadak?' The addition gave Simon strength to force himself to stay, knowing that Richard was there. His sister trusted the con, and even with the darkness in the man's soul, the young doctor agreed that he did to. He silently pleaded that the larger man help them convince the Time Lord that he was not just tolerated but desperately needed.
'He’s right, you know. We do need you. Show us the reason for these actions.' The feeling of immediate crisis backed off slightly. 'Show us what we have t’do to help you, Doctor.' They saw themselves, and the other survivors, and countless more worlds that were safe. The saw beautiful vistas in space that were more so because someone has appreciated them. They saw a small blue world and a number of faces that would not exist had he not made other places burn. They saw a universe at peace, free to evolve the way it was meant to, instead of being directed along a path of uniformity.
They knew now. Everything burned because the Doctor made it burn. He was the beginning and the end. If he was to continue then he must be accepted for what he was, what he did, for the role he played. Otherwise he will continue to feed the parasitic doomsday energy and it will continue to eat away at him until there is nothing left. Without the anchor he provided the universe itself might unravel. But no one carried that much might, or do they? For here, relying on them to save him, was the Last Lord of Time, and his power was innate. But it was an omnipotence he can never abuse, for the pain of his life was too great for him to forget.
As one they see that the path to save him is built of a box, the sides were their compassion, in whatever way they can give it. River had already constructed her side, flowing water to block the parasite from the soul of the Storm. Richard built his as well, a sheet of crystalline metal to defuse and channel the stolen power back to its rightful source. Simon couldn’t find fault with the man for making such hard choices. He found that he can force the black slag energy back into the corner the other two made and keep it there. But three a box did not make. Above them was the golden Lady, fighting to keep the Storm strong. Below was the Void, too weak to destroy the invader, unable to pull it down and hold it there. They are enough to trap it, but not enough to eliminate it.
Simon blinked and found that River had attached herself to his neck. The hairless gent looked tired, like he had been wrung through. Kneeling on the other side of him was Richard. Simon blinked at the man’s silver-eyed gaze. The lights were low enough for the goggles to be off. His hand was firmly gripping the Doctor’s wrist, skin to skin. The Tam scion saw the sparks dancing across the connection. “You are channeling the charge, the energy, I saw go into the Doctor. Is it going to harm you? Is it safe --” Simon babbled out.
River reached up and put her hand over his mouth. “Simon. That is what Earth does.” He looked at her and knew she at least was cured. He won’t rest until the Doctor was too.
0o0o0o0o0o0o0o0
Johns opened his eyes to see the face of one Richard B. Riddick staring at him. He swallowed. His sluggish mind slowly filled in the details about where he was. A tired voice comes from the foot of the bed, “Can you move your feet for me, Mr. Johns?” He looked over at Dr. Tam and wiggled both feet. “Good. Any pain?” He wrinkled his forehead and then indicated no. “That’s promising.” The bed was tilted up into a reclining position that was not quite sitting and a glass of something with a straw was moved to his lips. It was the hydrating solution the Doctor had given him before. Better than water, he was informed. He sipped.
“Thought the Doctor would be here,” it was a raw croak from his throat being torn to shit when he was trying to regurgitate his viscera, his voice was. That the stern man was not there worried him somewhat, for no reason other than the fact that the man had given his word to be there when it was over.
“Perhaps later. He was up most of the night. I’ve had a bit of a nap,” Simon lied.
Billy raised an eyebrow and looked over at Richard, “I don’t know, he’s not been well, has he?”
“He’s fine. You worry about yourself, Billy.”
“Hey. What is with the short temper here, Rich?” Johns reached for the man and pulled back from the glare. He wondered if he did something wrong now, to have upset them all.
But Dr. Tam seemed fine, if a bit drained. He even smiled at him a bit. The raven-haired man moved a tray over; “Here’s some food. It should settle on your stomach well.”
Johns focused on it, which was surprisingly good for an easy to digest meal. “Why you two hiding that our host is having a problem?” Whatever the issue was he wanted to know about it.
Riddick sat on the edge of his bed, “Because he’s not, anymore. We solved it. Ok? Should be reaching Helion tomorrow. You should be back on your feet by then.”
“You both look like shit, you know that?” William looked from one to the other, noticing that Riddick was wearing his ‘nothing can touch me’ face that usually meant he was rolling in emotions that he didn’t want to share. Not even poking at him with a sharp pointy object was gonna get past that.
“Thanks.” The ex-ranger stood up and moved over to the Tam scion drawing him to the far corner of the room, “Listen, I wanted to tell you --”
Simon shook his head, “I’m good, Richard. No one is at fault here except the bastards that cut into my sister. You want to help me, then help me bring them down.” They locked gazes. 'Just say the word.' Simon knew that they would all need to stand together to beat this. But like most boxes, they needed a few more sides.