Doctor Who: "Hangman" (3/5)
Title: Hangman
Characters/Pairings: fem!Nine, Jack, Rose, John Hart, OCs
Rating: Teen
Beta: yamx, tamer of wayward sentences.
Summary: Who can Jack trust when he can't even trust himself?
Notes: For those who are familiar with the fem!Doctor 'verse, this story is set before section X of "Mad Girl's Love Song." For those unfamiliar, all you need to know is that the Ninth Doctor is female and always has been. Chapters will be posted on a weekly basis.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2
The look on Jack's face when he met the Doctor's eyes almost broke her heart. It was the look of a man wandering through the desert who spotted storm clouds on the horizon: hope and wonder, mixed with a dash of fear. It was a fear the Doctor knew well, having cultivated it for centuries herself - the cold voice of doubt that whispered that no good turn could last, and would be cruelly snatched away just when salvation seemed certain. She reached out and touched the wall of the cell, seized by the sudden desire to break in and take Jack far away from this wretched place. It would be futile, of course; the robo-wardens would overpower her instantly, and besides, Jack was no longer in immediate danger of execution. If Thibadeaux's confession went the way it ought to, he'd be cleared of all charges.
But if Jack were cleared of all charges, and his good standing with the Agency restored, would he want to stay? The Doctor felt her throat tighten unexpectedly at the thought. Not long ago, she would have been relieved to return Jack to his former life. Now, she no longer wanted him anywhere near this den of thieves. He deserved better than them. Not only that, the Doctor wanted to deserve Jack. He was a good man, and he held the Doctor in an esteem so profound that she scarcely felt worthy of the honor. Since when did she turn to Jack for validation?
The Doctor became slowly aware that the two women standing hand in hand in front of her were talking to each other. She recalled that only family was supposed to be here. Who were these women? Mothers? Demi-cousins? Sex-swapped progenitor clones? Human familial relationships could be byzantine in the 51st century.
The shorter of the two women shook her head a little, her silver-streaked curls bouncing with the motion. “I knew he had a backup plan. He always had - ” Her nose wrinkled. “Friends. You know the sort. It was all theatrics, just like I said.”
“I didn't believe it, but there you are,” said the taller woman, pressing her lips into a hard line. “He told me that he didn't know anyone who could help us, but he manages to get himself out of trouble like a sandworm wriggling out of a trap. I thought he cared about our family, but in the end, it's all about number one.”
“Maybe he'll come back. Maybe he does want the best for us, after all. But…” The shorter woman shook her head again. “It's too much to hope for. We can't expect miracles, not from him. I suppose the blame lies with us, in the end. It's the way we brought him up.”
The Doctor was seized by a fury so intense she could scarcely breathe. Jack had almost been executed for a crime he didn't commit, right before their eyes. He had been willing to give his life to correct his own mistakes. More than that, she had seen him risk his life to correct other people's mistakes. How dare they not believe in him? How could his own family not see what was now so clear to her?
“You don't know what you're talking about,” the Doctor said. Her voice rasped like a sword drawn from its scabbard. Both women turned around to face her, eyes wide. “That man just faced down death with no hope of rescue. He's brave and good and he doesn't deserve to die. I don't care how closely related you are to him. If you don't see the goodness in him, then you don't know him at all.”
“You're the one who doesn't know what she's talking about,” the taller woman snarled. She was of a height with the Doctor, though she still somehow had to look up to meet the Doctor's eyes. “He's not your son. You don't know what it's like to see your children die and know that it's your fault.”
“Yes. I. Do.” The Doctor let her words fall like anvils. “And if there were anyone in my family still alive - even a demi-cousin twice-removed - I would show him more respect than you just showed your son if he were half the man I know your son to be.”
“Your family, perhaps,” the smaller woman said. “But Nazaire is ours.”
Nazaire might be your family, the Doctor thought ferociously, but Jack is mine. She wanted to defend him. She wanted him to have the loving family he deserved. But she was part of events now, and time was slipping away. “He's going to have the chance to see you again. Soon,” the Doctor promised. “You almost lost him today. Consider yourselves lucky.”
Jack's mothers said nothing, but the bleakness in their eyes told the Doctor that they didn't consider themselves lucky at all. There was something there that she didn't yet understand, and wouldn't until she got to have a long talk with Jack. Perhaps she had judged them too soon.
But there was no time for regrets now. She was going to get Jack and Rose back. In that order.
She could only hope that Rose had learned enough to stand on her own until the Doctor and Jack came to her rescue.
“You have reached the office of Dame Thibadeaux,” said a cool, professional voice. “How may I help you?”
Rose suppressed a groan. Just what she needed right now: a secretary. “I've got to speak to her right away. It's urgent.”
“Dame Thibadeaux has many urgent matters to attend to,” replied the secretary in bored cadences. “Would you like to make an appoi- ”
“Tell her it's a friend of the Doctor's who needs her help. She'll want to hear this, trust me.”
The secretary sighed. “One moment, please.” The music the phone blared tinnily at Rose while she was placed on hold was nothing like any she'd heard before, but it was just as irritating as the music she'd heard on automated phone systems back on 21st century Earth. Some things never changed.
The music cut out, and a confident alto voice said, “Thibadeaux speaking. How may I help you?” Her offer of help sounded far more genuine than than the secretary's.
“My name is Rose Tyler. The Doctor and I and a friend of ours are on Outer Beta Aquarii.” She considered for a moment, then decided that telling Mikaëla about her kidnapping wouldn't violate the terms of the Doctor's agreement with Makarios, and besides, the smarmy bastard could bloody well learn to take responsibility for his own actions. “Your great-nephew Makarios just kidnapped me and left me in the most awful place I've ever seen.”
Rose could hear Mikaëla hiss out a breath between clenched teeth. “Oh, Makarios. Foolish boy. I feared he might come to this.” She sounded almost sad. It wasn't at all what Rose had expected from a woman who scared the rogue Time Agent so much. “Where are you, Dame Tyler?”
“I'm not sure. It's on this platform covered by a force dome, floating above this horrible polluted desert. It's about midmorning. I can send you pictures.” Rose pointed the camera lens on her phone toward the translucent curve of the force field and took about twenty pictures. The more information she could give Mikaëla, the better. “Then there's…” Words failed Rose as she tried to summon up a description of the medical tortures she'd seen. “I'll show you.” She took another series of pictures of the freezers, pressing the phone's lens against the frosted doors.
After a pause, Mikaëla spoke. Her voice was even, but Rose could feel the anger rippling beneath. “We've suspected for years that the Time Agency might be hiding such a facility. The Scientific Research department was always too tight-lipped about their R&D methods, and the rumors…prisoners made to disappear without a formal death sentence…”
Rose shivered. Jack might have ended up here. Might still end up here, if Mikaëla's great-nephew didn't confess. If the Time Agency didn't accept his testimony. So many ifs.
“The Time Agency is a signatory of the Shadow Proclamation. What you have just shown me is a violation of Article 56. You have just done me, the Shadow Proclamation, and the galaxy a great service, Dame Tyler.”
“Please, call me Rose. A friend of the Doctor's is a friend of mine.”
“Then call me Mikaëla. I'm coming for you with a team of Enforcers, Rose, as soon as we've triangulated your location based on the data you've provided me. I'm sorry, but I don't know how long it will take. Keep well until then. I apologize for my wayward great-nephew. It's past time that I provide him a proper education.” Beneath the word education was the first stirring of what Rose suspected might inspire such awe toward Mikaëla. The word wasn't sinister, not quite, but it held promises backed by iron conviction.
“Thank you, Mikaëla.” Rose swallowed. “And please hurry.”
A moment after Rose ended the call, she heard distant footsteps. She looked around the room and thought quickly. Not this soon, not now! Where could she hide? The last freezer before the platform met the forcefield had an opaque door, she noticed. It wasn't the least comfortable place she'd ever hidden in, and it would give her some protection, but it still wasn't going to be fun waiting for rescue in there. She steeled herself and opened the freezer door. It was full of frozen fetuses in transparent containers. Rose felt a shudder that had nothing to do with cold, transferred the containers to another freezer, and crawled in. The door shut, and her world was dark and frozen and small.
Rose sent a text message to Mikaëla, her thumbs already growing clumsy with the cold. I'm hiding in Freezer 17. Good luck.
She leaned her head against the back of the freezer and hoped Mikaëla would find her before the Time Agents did.
This cell was lower-security than the first; the door wasn't deadlocked. It even had windows, though Jack suspected the views was computer-generated. He couldn't understand it. Why would the Agency put a prisoner slated for death or the Gallows in anything less than a max-security cell? He'd asked the robo-warden what was going on, and it had primly replied that Internal Affairs had new and complicating evidence and that the magistrates were reconsidering his case. His bail was set at 950,000 credits according to the robo-warden, which was technically an improvement over no bail at all, though it made no real difference. His parents couldn't afford to post bail that high, and even if they could, he had the sinking feeling that they might refuse to do it anyway.
Jack lay on his cot, staring at the ceiling. The Doctor had something to do with this. Of that there could be no doubt. What had the Doctor gone and done? Did she learn of his crimes and, enraged, set out to find her own evidence of his guilt? But he was already sentenced to death in any case, and he knew she wouldn't approve of the Time Agency's worst sentence of all. She usually didn't approve of the death penalty either, for that matter. Could she have made a plea to lighten his sentence? It seemed too much to hope for, but he couldn't imagine her doing anything else, especially if Rose had anything to say about it. She wouldn't want to see Jack executed.
Perhaps he'd be consigned to a jail cell much like this one for the rest of his days, but at least he'd get a chance to speak to his parents once again - and maybe even to the Doctor and Rose. That thought made even a life in prison seem bearable.
“Shaylin Sel-Ahn, your bail has been posted,” announced the robo-warden. “Please step toward the door to have a probationary chip implanted in your wrist until the magistrates are done re-examining your case file.”
Jack felt a fierce surge of hope rise in his chest, but hesitated before complying. What if it was a trap? Someone with a personal vendetta against him luring him out of jail to a place where he could be conveniently murdered? He decided it was a risk worth taking. He didn't like the idea of having a Time Agency chip implanted in his body, but at this point, they practically owned him anyway. He stepped up to the door, and a huge needle appeared from a notch in its surface and jabbed him in the wrist. He winced at the pain, but the wound sealed up without bleeding. The door opened, and the Doctor was waiting for him on the other side.
He stood there, mouth hanging slack a little, not knowing what to do or say. For a moment, the Doctor seemed stricken by the same paralysis. Then she reached out and clasped him by the shoulder. Their eyes met. Jack hadn't felt scrutinized so closely since the Doctor had looked him in the eye and told him that his greed would bring about the end of human history.
“I owe you an apology,” she said. “And I'll give it to you, in full. But it'll have to wait. Rose is in danger. I need your help.”
There were all kinds of things Jack wanted to say: I'm the one who owes you, and it's a lot more than an apology or Thank you for saving me, again or I spent at least half of this nightmare thinking of you and Rose and everything we've done together. Instead, he just said, “What can I do?”
“Walk with me.” The Doctor took him by the hand and led him out of the prison. He didn't even notice the endless security protocols. The firm heat of the Doctor's hand around his spread warmth up his arm and through his whole body. He'd seen the Doctor take Rose by the hand, just like this, dozens of times. It was such a simple gesture, but he'd always suspected it might have a deeper meaning when the Doctor did it. He'd never imagined that he might experience that for himself. Jack knew what it meant, now. It wasn't a protective or possessive gesture. It meant this is my world, and you can be a part of it.
The stained-glass mosaics of Villa della Costa were beautiful even in the dead of night. Inner Beta Aquarii, O.B.A.'s sister planet and Jack's home, dominated the sky, crowding out all three of O.B.A.'s moons. I.B.A. shone rust-coloured light on the mosaics, turning shards of green to brown and the red to a fierce glow. Jack's planet was mostly waterless, a world of red desert, but for a few scattered seas. Wisps of cloud obscured the sea along whose shores Jack grew up, on a little peninsula jutting out into the water. The sight of his home planet made the beauty of the city ring hollow. From what he'd seen, his people wouldn't be let past the enameled doors of these buildings.
Jack let the Doctor guide him through the empty plaza to the TARDIS, even though he'd spent enough time in his prison cell imagining it that he could hardly have forgotten where it was. Before the Doctor could open the door, though, he found himself blurting out the question that had been plaguing him ever since the Doctor freed him from the Time Agency's prison.
“Why do you trust me?” he said.
The Doctor stared at him and blinked, once.
“Why do you trust me?” he repeated. “You wouldn't bring me along to rescue Rose if you didn't. You know I stole the timeline tracer. My family doesn't trust me. I don't trust myself. Why do you?”
“You didn't steal the timeline tracer, Jack,” the Doctor said. “Your former partner, Makarios Thibadeaux, did. He erased your memories and pinned the blame on you.”
“But…” But he'd promised his parents he would. They thought he had. They were proud of him for it. Could they have been mistaken? Did he realize his mistake and go back on his promise to them? “How do you know?”
“I knew you couldn't've done it, so Rose and I set out to find the person who did. It was Thibadeaux. We got him to confess. You'll be cleared of all charges soon enough.” Her eyes narrowed with remembered anger. “It was him who put Rose in danger. And the one who made those two years of yours disappear. I'm sorry.”
A curious lightness was spreading through Jack's body, a burden lifted that had been weighing invisibly behind his ribcage. “But you couldn't have known for sure that I didn't do it, before you went after Makarios. How did you know?”
“I didn't.” The Doctor's mouth didn't smile, but her eyes did. “I made a leap of faith. That's what trust is.”
Jack didn't know what to say to that, so he didn't say anything at all.
“You told me about the missing two years, but I didn't do anything about it,” the Doctor said, her expression firming into seriousness. The words clearly weren't coming easily to her. “I thought it was your fault. Paradox damage. Another mistake that you didn't fix in time. I was wrong. If I'd done something sooner, I could've spared you all this. And for that, I couldn't be more sorry. It won't happen again, Jack. I trust you.” She reached into her pocket, never looking away from his face, then pressed his hand between hers.
He felt something hard and metallic bite into his palm. At first, he didn't understand what it was, what it meant. When he realized that he was holding a key, he had to lean against the TARDIS to keep from sinking to his knees. He looked at the Doctor and felt like everything in his heart was bleeding out from his eyes.
“Whatever it is you want to say, save it for later,” she said, gently. “He took her to the Gallows. I can't find her in time unless you help me out.”
Trust, Jack found, was a burden entirely different from guilt. Instead of making every thought and movement unbearable with its weight, it was like gravity: it made him remember which way was up. He slid his key into the lock, relishing the rasp of the metal teeth and the smooth turn of the lock's tumblers. The first fall of orange-green light from the console room warmed him more than sunlight.
Jack held the door open and gestured for the Doctor to go in first. “After you,” he said.
The Doctor looked like she might protest, but she must have recognized that letting her go first meant something to Jack besides self-deprecation, because she nodded fractionally and stepped across the threshold. He followed her.
As soon as he closed the TARDIS door behind him, the chip in Jack's wrist flared mauve. A moment later, a horrible metallic scream overloaded his brain with painful noise, drowning out any other sound. His vision blurred around the edges; he could only just make out the Doctor snarling a curse and aiming her sonic screwdriver at the chip with one arm and catching him with her other as his legs buckled.
The noise cut out as suddenly as it had begun. Jack realized that the Doctor had laid him out on the floor, the back of his head propped up against the solid weight of her torso. “The Time Agency can talk all they like about how modern and enlightened they are. They're stuck in the Dark Ages, every one of them,” she said, her voice tempered with quiet anger. He could feel the vibrations in her chest as she spoke.
“You can put me down if you want,” Jack mumbled. She was warmer than he would have thought from how cool her hands were. “I'll be fine.”
“I don't want,” said the Doctor in a tone of voice that brooked no argument. “We'll wait until you can stand up properly. Then we'll go find Rose.”
It should have made him feel weak, being supported like this. He'd been hurt far worse than this in the Time Agency, and before that, the war. He always tried to get out of sickbay at the first opportunity and never took painkillers unless he had no choice. After all, there were other soldiers who probably needed them more than he did. But the Doctor had decided that he needed this, and that was a decision that was worth putting in her hands. If the Doctor held him, it wasn't because she thought he was weak. It was because she thought he was strong enough to let himself be vulnerable with her. It was a kind of strength he hadn't even known was in him.
Rose wished for the umpteenth time that she'd brought a jacket.
She had her hands stuffed in the pockets of her hoodie, the hood up over her hair, and her socks pulled up as high as they would go. Still, she had lost all feeling in her fingers, toes, and the tip of her nose. She was beginning to worry about frostbite. The Doctor had taught her the signs: first itching and pain, then ugly discolored patches appearing on her skin. Rose looked at her hands. They were the same color as they had always been. It didn't stop her from worrying. If frostbite didn't get her first, then the Time Agency might. And what if the Doctor or Mikaëla got to her in time, only to tell her that it was too late for Jack? She'd known the bloke for a few weeks at most, but the thought of losing him made a gap open in her chest, into which she could fall and fall before she ever reached the bottom.
There was a puff of air, suddenly, as the seal around the freezer door broke. Light spilled in, made waxy and dull by the force dome. The being outside was definitely not the Doctor or Mikaëla. It was wearing a lab coat, or as close to one as a garment made for someone with eight limbs could get. When it saw Rose, a bump on its head flared into brilliant white bioluminescence, a beacon that anyone nearby could hardly fail to notice. Then a hand reached up from behind it, grabbed it by a horn at the base of its neck, and squeezed. The Time Agency scientist convulsed, then the bump on its head went dark and it sagged to the floor.
Behind it stood a short, broad-shouldered woman with long silver hair threaded into many small braids. She had deep golden skin, almond-shaped blue eyes with heavy creases at their corners, and stark cheekbones. Her right ear had five earrings along its edge, while her left ear had none, and she wore calf-high boots, baggy shorts, and a sleeveless white shirt with a collar so high it nearly touched her chin.
“Why a kevla-Kan in a top-secret Time Agency facility would walk around with its rear horn exposed, I cannot fathom,” she said, with a tone of mild reproach. “Anybody could just walk up from behind and cut off its air supply. I hope it learns something from this experience.”
Rose just stared.
“Oh, not to worry, Rose! It's just metabolically dormant for now. The gas concentrations in its tissues will restabilize soon enough.” Five people who looked like cats on two legs came up behind her. “My lads will round everyone up until the Shadow Proclamation has decided upon the appropriate disciplinary measures. They won't be harming anyone else. Could you take this kevla-Kan to the teleport deck, please, lads? Dame Tyler needs to get out of that freezer, she looks like she's in quite a state.”
One of the cat-people, whose uniform had green wavy lines on it, nodded to the other four. They proceeded into the next room, which Rose had not dared to explore, while Green-Waves picked up the unconscious form of the Time Agency scientist and hauled it to the edge of the platform, where Rose had first been taken. The elder woman took Rose by the hand and helped her out of the freezer, dusting flakes of ice from her clothes.
“It's a pleasure to meet you at last, Rose Tyler,” she said, raising Rose's hand to her lips for a light kiss. “Mikaëla Thibadeaux, at your service.”
“Thank you, Mikaëla,” Rose managed to say.
“Oh no, all the thanks goes to you, Rose! We've been trying to pin charges of Article 56 violations on the Time Agency for decades now. Most people would have panicked and been immediately captured, in your place. Instead, you saved not only yourself, but all the people who are suffering and who might have suffered at the hands of these torturers.”
Rose didn't think she deserved that much credit - all she did was make a phone call - but she didn't bother to protest. “What are you going to do? I mean, there's the people who worked here, but then there's the people who gave the orders to have this place built, and the judges who sent all the prisoners here for their sick idea of punishment.”
Mikaëla shrugged. “Each signatory to the Shadow Proclamation has a different notion of what justice is. What we have done is to classify all these justice systems into fifteen categories. We have people assigned to represent each of these viewpoints. We give these questions out to teams of fifteen, who must debate until they reach a consensus. Then we act based on the teams' decisions.”
Rose imagined arguing with fourteen people as smart and stubborn as Jack or the Doctor, each with a different opinion. “Blimey. That must be… really difficult.”
“These are matters of life or death. They ought to be difficult. By comparison, this part,” Mikaëla said, gesturing all around her, “is easy. Break out the imprisoned, do whatever we can for them. This is why I chose to work for Enforcement, not Deliberation.”
The air began to stir around them, as if by a sudden breeze, though of course the force field meant that was impossible. Rose heard the sound that she'd spent all that time in the freezer longing to hear, the rasping and groaning that had become dearer than music to her ears.
Mikaëla recognized it too. She tilted her head back a little, closed her eyes, and smiled, the wind from the TARDIS' materialization making her braids flutter around her face.
After a moment, the TARDIS door opened, and the Doctor's head peered out. “Rose!”
“Yes, Doctor, I'm fine,” said Rose, smiling. “Though if you'd come a few minutes earlier, you could've been the dashing lady knight who came to my rescue.”
“I didn't know I had so much competition in the lady knight business,” the Doctor said with a chagrined expression. “Who - Mikaëla?”
Mikaëla raised an eyebrow. “Dame Doctor.”
“I - I'm sorry - what are you - I didn't know…”
Jack appeared in the TARDIS doorway beside the Doctor, looking at her with a mixture of amusement and awe. “Do my ears deceive me? You have a history with Mikaëla Thibadeaux?”
“If by history you mean that the last time I saw madame Doctor, she slammed a door in my face, then yes,” said Mikaëla.
“I thought you were friends!” Rose protested.
“We are,” said Mikaëla. “Or at least, I am hers.”
Everyone looked at the Doctor, except for Green-Waves, who had moved the unconscious kevla-Kan and was now standing at attention, trying not to look perturbed by the TARDIS' sudden appearance.
“You know I'm your friend, Mikaëla!” the Doctor said. “I just objected strongly to being dumped in a bath of frozen katamarite. Most would've done more than slam a door, under the circumstances.”
“What's katamarite?” Rose wondered.
“That's a rare kind of toxin, absorbed through the skin,” said Jack. “It temporarily suppresses telepathy.”
“It was medically necessary, Doctor, and you know it. I certainly didn't hear you object after the first five seconds.”
“All right, fine, my telepathic senses may have been overloading at the time, but then you wouldn't give me my clothes back!”
“You refused to wear anything but those rags you were wearing when you first showed up, and I couldn't let you wear them. They were practically radioactive. Then I offered you food and a haircut, because you looked like a scarecrow and you needed to stop feeling sorry for yourself and let yourself live.”
Finally, the Doctor said, grudgingly, “S'pose you're right. What you did helped me put my head back on straight.” She paused. “More or less.”
“Apology accepted.” Before Rose could ask what on earth they were talking about, Mikaëla continued, “Now, Dame Doctor, let's not be discourteous. You must introduce me to your handsome young friend.” Jack positively preened at the attention, but his pride turned visibly sour when she added, “I'm sure I recognize him from somewhere, but I just can't place it.”
“This is Captain Jack Harkness,” said the Doctor, pulling him by the shoulder out of the TARDIS doorway and toward Mikaëla, “though you may know him as Captain Shaylin Sel-Ahn.”
“Ah, Captain Sel-Ahn, of course! You were partnered with my wayward great-nephew for five years. You must have the goodwill of a prophet to manage him for so long. I always thought the Time Agency was exactly the wrong career for Makarios, but what with the family pressure, and the lure of power…” She tutted and shook her head, then took Jack's hand to kiss. “It's a pleasure, Captain.”
Rose exchanged sidelong glances with Jack and the Doctor. Mikaëla must not have known about Jack's arrest. She wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or not.
“Thank you, Dame Thibadeaux,” Jack said weakly. He sounded like someone who had just met the Prime Minister, realized that his flies were unzipped, and was desperately hoping no one would find out. Not that Jack would care if his flies were unzipped, no matter who he had just met.
All of this did not escape Mikaëla's notice. “Speaking of Makarios, where is the lad? I'd like to have a word with him.”
Rose exchanged another set of looks with the Doctor and Jack. They'd promised Makarios that they wouldn't tell Mikaëla about his crimes. But then again, what was a promise worth to a lowlife like him? He'd almost gotten her and Jack both killed, and stolen a timeline tracer, with which he had done terrible damage and could have done even worse.
“You promised him not to tell me, didn't you. Yes, that's a threat that would keep him in line. Very shrewd of you, Dame Doctor.” She didn't sound angry, just determined. Calculating. “Well, you don't have to tell me. I can find him on my own. Then no one could say that you'd reneged on your agreement.”
Rose stood there, uncertain. She liked Mikaëla, but she frightened Rose a little. Jack and the Doctor seemed similarly conflicted.
“Well, go on,” said Mikaëla. “Sail away on your timeship. Stumbling across a top-secret high-tech Time Agency torture chamber is your job. Mopping it up is mine. I can take it from here.”
Somewhere in the labyrinth of the platform, there was a faint yelp and the sound of something shattering. Mikaëla's people had taken the Time Agency by surprise, Rose thought with grim satisfaction.
“Thank you, Mikaëla,” said the Doctor. “If something had happened to Rose, I don't know what I would've done. I'm sure you'll do a good job bringing all this to rights.”
“No need to thank me. Rose rescued herself. I should think you'd have realized by now that it's a habit of hers. I can already tell.” Mikaëla got down on one knee to kiss the Doctor's hand, her lips lingering longer than they had on Rose's or Jack's. She looked up at the Doctor through her eyelashes. “I don't suppose there's a chance of getting you to promise me you'll visit?”
The Doctor placed two fingers under Mikaëla's chin and gently tilted her face upward. “No, there's not. But I might just run into you again. You never know.”
Rose felt her cheeks grow warm. She was not envious of Mikaëla. Watching the Doctor flirt was embarrassing, that was all. Like watching an eccentric schoolteacher try to flirt. She would feel exactly the same way if the Doctor were flirting with her or Jack instead.
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Jack mouthing, You too, huh? She tried to look indignant, but she only blushed pinker.
“It was an honor to meet you, Dame Thibadeaux,” said Jack, perhaps a little louder than necessary.
“Yeah. So long, Mikaëla,” said Rose. “Good luck.” They all stepped through the TARDIS door, then closed it. As soon as the door was completely shut, Rose said, “What's she going to do to Makarios when she finds him?”
“Anything she wants,” said Jack, his voice and body animating into what Rose thought of as his storytelling mode. “Makarios told me that she underwent intensive gene therapy to become the most powerful and subtle human telepath of her time. She can do psychografts using her mind alone. Complete personality transplant, just like that.” He snapped his fingers. “The Doctor told me how you worked over Makarios. No wonder he chose prison over her. I'd rather that than have a completely different person walking around in my body, with everything I am just… gone.”
“That's not true, lad,” said the Doctor. “Mikaëla's got a reputation, especially within her own family, but she's nothing more than a minor telepathic talent. She can completely change your personality around - trust me - but that's just because she's Mikaëla, not because she's some telepathic mastermind. She gets her hooks in you, and after she's done you don't want to be who you were anymore. And she doesn't do it to just anyone - just those who she thinks need some serious readjusting.”
“And she did it to you,” said Rose. “After the war with the Daleks.”
There were two simultaneous intakes of breath. Jack stared at the Doctor; the Doctor stared at Rose.
“How did you know? Did Mikaëla tell you?” demanded the Doctor.
“The Last Great Time War is real?” cried Jack.
“I figured it out,” Rose said. “You were a right mess when I first met you - sorry, Doctor - but you weren't stark raving mad. Makes sense that someone helped you put the pieces back together, after.”
The Doctor leaned back against one of the coral struts and closed her eyes. “You're right, Rose. And yes, Jack, the Last Great Time War is real, and I'm its only survivor.”
Jack sat down on the grating, possibly because he was too overwhelmed to continue standing.
“What happened with Mikaëla?” asked Rose, quietly.
The Doctor opened her eyes and looked at Rose. She was pleading with her, silently, not to ask. Rose held firm. The Doctor's expression became pained. “I'll tell you. Both of you. Suppose you ought to know that you've got less reason to trust me than I had to trust Jack. But first things first.” She knelt on the grating so that she was near eye level with Jack. “How would you like to visit your family?”
Characters/Pairings: fem!Nine, Jack, Rose, John Hart, OCs
Rating: Teen
Beta: yamx, tamer of wayward sentences.
Summary: Who can Jack trust when he can't even trust himself?
Notes: For those who are familiar with the fem!Doctor 'verse, this story is set before section X of "Mad Girl's Love Song." For those unfamiliar, all you need to know is that the Ninth Doctor is female and always has been. Chapters will be posted on a weekly basis.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2
The look on Jack's face when he met the Doctor's eyes almost broke her heart. It was the look of a man wandering through the desert who spotted storm clouds on the horizon: hope and wonder, mixed with a dash of fear. It was a fear the Doctor knew well, having cultivated it for centuries herself - the cold voice of doubt that whispered that no good turn could last, and would be cruelly snatched away just when salvation seemed certain. She reached out and touched the wall of the cell, seized by the sudden desire to break in and take Jack far away from this wretched place. It would be futile, of course; the robo-wardens would overpower her instantly, and besides, Jack was no longer in immediate danger of execution. If Thibadeaux's confession went the way it ought to, he'd be cleared of all charges.
But if Jack were cleared of all charges, and his good standing with the Agency restored, would he want to stay? The Doctor felt her throat tighten unexpectedly at the thought. Not long ago, she would have been relieved to return Jack to his former life. Now, she no longer wanted him anywhere near this den of thieves. He deserved better than them. Not only that, the Doctor wanted to deserve Jack. He was a good man, and he held the Doctor in an esteem so profound that she scarcely felt worthy of the honor. Since when did she turn to Jack for validation?
The Doctor became slowly aware that the two women standing hand in hand in front of her were talking to each other. She recalled that only family was supposed to be here. Who were these women? Mothers? Demi-cousins? Sex-swapped progenitor clones? Human familial relationships could be byzantine in the 51st century.
The shorter of the two women shook her head a little, her silver-streaked curls bouncing with the motion. “I knew he had a backup plan. He always had - ” Her nose wrinkled. “Friends. You know the sort. It was all theatrics, just like I said.”
“I didn't believe it, but there you are,” said the taller woman, pressing her lips into a hard line. “He told me that he didn't know anyone who could help us, but he manages to get himself out of trouble like a sandworm wriggling out of a trap. I thought he cared about our family, but in the end, it's all about number one.”
“Maybe he'll come back. Maybe he does want the best for us, after all. But…” The shorter woman shook her head again. “It's too much to hope for. We can't expect miracles, not from him. I suppose the blame lies with us, in the end. It's the way we brought him up.”
The Doctor was seized by a fury so intense she could scarcely breathe. Jack had almost been executed for a crime he didn't commit, right before their eyes. He had been willing to give his life to correct his own mistakes. More than that, she had seen him risk his life to correct other people's mistakes. How dare they not believe in him? How could his own family not see what was now so clear to her?
“You don't know what you're talking about,” the Doctor said. Her voice rasped like a sword drawn from its scabbard. Both women turned around to face her, eyes wide. “That man just faced down death with no hope of rescue. He's brave and good and he doesn't deserve to die. I don't care how closely related you are to him. If you don't see the goodness in him, then you don't know him at all.”
“You're the one who doesn't know what she's talking about,” the taller woman snarled. She was of a height with the Doctor, though she still somehow had to look up to meet the Doctor's eyes. “He's not your son. You don't know what it's like to see your children die and know that it's your fault.”
“Yes. I. Do.” The Doctor let her words fall like anvils. “And if there were anyone in my family still alive - even a demi-cousin twice-removed - I would show him more respect than you just showed your son if he were half the man I know your son to be.”
“Your family, perhaps,” the smaller woman said. “But Nazaire is ours.”
Nazaire might be your family, the Doctor thought ferociously, but Jack is mine. She wanted to defend him. She wanted him to have the loving family he deserved. But she was part of events now, and time was slipping away. “He's going to have the chance to see you again. Soon,” the Doctor promised. “You almost lost him today. Consider yourselves lucky.”
Jack's mothers said nothing, but the bleakness in their eyes told the Doctor that they didn't consider themselves lucky at all. There was something there that she didn't yet understand, and wouldn't until she got to have a long talk with Jack. Perhaps she had judged them too soon.
But there was no time for regrets now. She was going to get Jack and Rose back. In that order.
She could only hope that Rose had learned enough to stand on her own until the Doctor and Jack came to her rescue.
“You have reached the office of Dame Thibadeaux,” said a cool, professional voice. “How may I help you?”
Rose suppressed a groan. Just what she needed right now: a secretary. “I've got to speak to her right away. It's urgent.”
“Dame Thibadeaux has many urgent matters to attend to,” replied the secretary in bored cadences. “Would you like to make an appoi- ”
“Tell her it's a friend of the Doctor's who needs her help. She'll want to hear this, trust me.”
The secretary sighed. “One moment, please.” The music the phone blared tinnily at Rose while she was placed on hold was nothing like any she'd heard before, but it was just as irritating as the music she'd heard on automated phone systems back on 21st century Earth. Some things never changed.
The music cut out, and a confident alto voice said, “Thibadeaux speaking. How may I help you?” Her offer of help sounded far more genuine than than the secretary's.
“My name is Rose Tyler. The Doctor and I and a friend of ours are on Outer Beta Aquarii.” She considered for a moment, then decided that telling Mikaëla about her kidnapping wouldn't violate the terms of the Doctor's agreement with Makarios, and besides, the smarmy bastard could bloody well learn to take responsibility for his own actions. “Your great-nephew Makarios just kidnapped me and left me in the most awful place I've ever seen.”
Rose could hear Mikaëla hiss out a breath between clenched teeth. “Oh, Makarios. Foolish boy. I feared he might come to this.” She sounded almost sad. It wasn't at all what Rose had expected from a woman who scared the rogue Time Agent so much. “Where are you, Dame Tyler?”
“I'm not sure. It's on this platform covered by a force dome, floating above this horrible polluted desert. It's about midmorning. I can send you pictures.” Rose pointed the camera lens on her phone toward the translucent curve of the force field and took about twenty pictures. The more information she could give Mikaëla, the better. “Then there's…” Words failed Rose as she tried to summon up a description of the medical tortures she'd seen. “I'll show you.” She took another series of pictures of the freezers, pressing the phone's lens against the frosted doors.
After a pause, Mikaëla spoke. Her voice was even, but Rose could feel the anger rippling beneath. “We've suspected for years that the Time Agency might be hiding such a facility. The Scientific Research department was always too tight-lipped about their R&D methods, and the rumors…prisoners made to disappear without a formal death sentence…”
Rose shivered. Jack might have ended up here. Might still end up here, if Mikaëla's great-nephew didn't confess. If the Time Agency didn't accept his testimony. So many ifs.
“The Time Agency is a signatory of the Shadow Proclamation. What you have just shown me is a violation of Article 56. You have just done me, the Shadow Proclamation, and the galaxy a great service, Dame Tyler.”
“Please, call me Rose. A friend of the Doctor's is a friend of mine.”
“Then call me Mikaëla. I'm coming for you with a team of Enforcers, Rose, as soon as we've triangulated your location based on the data you've provided me. I'm sorry, but I don't know how long it will take. Keep well until then. I apologize for my wayward great-nephew. It's past time that I provide him a proper education.” Beneath the word education was the first stirring of what Rose suspected might inspire such awe toward Mikaëla. The word wasn't sinister, not quite, but it held promises backed by iron conviction.
“Thank you, Mikaëla.” Rose swallowed. “And please hurry.”
A moment after Rose ended the call, she heard distant footsteps. She looked around the room and thought quickly. Not this soon, not now! Where could she hide? The last freezer before the platform met the forcefield had an opaque door, she noticed. It wasn't the least comfortable place she'd ever hidden in, and it would give her some protection, but it still wasn't going to be fun waiting for rescue in there. She steeled herself and opened the freezer door. It was full of frozen fetuses in transparent containers. Rose felt a shudder that had nothing to do with cold, transferred the containers to another freezer, and crawled in. The door shut, and her world was dark and frozen and small.
Rose sent a text message to Mikaëla, her thumbs already growing clumsy with the cold. I'm hiding in Freezer 17. Good luck.
She leaned her head against the back of the freezer and hoped Mikaëla would find her before the Time Agents did.
This cell was lower-security than the first; the door wasn't deadlocked. It even had windows, though Jack suspected the views was computer-generated. He couldn't understand it. Why would the Agency put a prisoner slated for death or the Gallows in anything less than a max-security cell? He'd asked the robo-warden what was going on, and it had primly replied that Internal Affairs had new and complicating evidence and that the magistrates were reconsidering his case. His bail was set at 950,000 credits according to the robo-warden, which was technically an improvement over no bail at all, though it made no real difference. His parents couldn't afford to post bail that high, and even if they could, he had the sinking feeling that they might refuse to do it anyway.
Jack lay on his cot, staring at the ceiling. The Doctor had something to do with this. Of that there could be no doubt. What had the Doctor gone and done? Did she learn of his crimes and, enraged, set out to find her own evidence of his guilt? But he was already sentenced to death in any case, and he knew she wouldn't approve of the Time Agency's worst sentence of all. She usually didn't approve of the death penalty either, for that matter. Could she have made a plea to lighten his sentence? It seemed too much to hope for, but he couldn't imagine her doing anything else, especially if Rose had anything to say about it. She wouldn't want to see Jack executed.
Perhaps he'd be consigned to a jail cell much like this one for the rest of his days, but at least he'd get a chance to speak to his parents once again - and maybe even to the Doctor and Rose. That thought made even a life in prison seem bearable.
“Shaylin Sel-Ahn, your bail has been posted,” announced the robo-warden. “Please step toward the door to have a probationary chip implanted in your wrist until the magistrates are done re-examining your case file.”
Jack felt a fierce surge of hope rise in his chest, but hesitated before complying. What if it was a trap? Someone with a personal vendetta against him luring him out of jail to a place where he could be conveniently murdered? He decided it was a risk worth taking. He didn't like the idea of having a Time Agency chip implanted in his body, but at this point, they practically owned him anyway. He stepped up to the door, and a huge needle appeared from a notch in its surface and jabbed him in the wrist. He winced at the pain, but the wound sealed up without bleeding. The door opened, and the Doctor was waiting for him on the other side.
He stood there, mouth hanging slack a little, not knowing what to do or say. For a moment, the Doctor seemed stricken by the same paralysis. Then she reached out and clasped him by the shoulder. Their eyes met. Jack hadn't felt scrutinized so closely since the Doctor had looked him in the eye and told him that his greed would bring about the end of human history.
“I owe you an apology,” she said. “And I'll give it to you, in full. But it'll have to wait. Rose is in danger. I need your help.”
There were all kinds of things Jack wanted to say: I'm the one who owes you, and it's a lot more than an apology or Thank you for saving me, again or I spent at least half of this nightmare thinking of you and Rose and everything we've done together. Instead, he just said, “What can I do?”
“Walk with me.” The Doctor took him by the hand and led him out of the prison. He didn't even notice the endless security protocols. The firm heat of the Doctor's hand around his spread warmth up his arm and through his whole body. He'd seen the Doctor take Rose by the hand, just like this, dozens of times. It was such a simple gesture, but he'd always suspected it might have a deeper meaning when the Doctor did it. He'd never imagined that he might experience that for himself. Jack knew what it meant, now. It wasn't a protective or possessive gesture. It meant this is my world, and you can be a part of it.
The stained-glass mosaics of Villa della Costa were beautiful even in the dead of night. Inner Beta Aquarii, O.B.A.'s sister planet and Jack's home, dominated the sky, crowding out all three of O.B.A.'s moons. I.B.A. shone rust-coloured light on the mosaics, turning shards of green to brown and the red to a fierce glow. Jack's planet was mostly waterless, a world of red desert, but for a few scattered seas. Wisps of cloud obscured the sea along whose shores Jack grew up, on a little peninsula jutting out into the water. The sight of his home planet made the beauty of the city ring hollow. From what he'd seen, his people wouldn't be let past the enameled doors of these buildings.
Jack let the Doctor guide him through the empty plaza to the TARDIS, even though he'd spent enough time in his prison cell imagining it that he could hardly have forgotten where it was. Before the Doctor could open the door, though, he found himself blurting out the question that had been plaguing him ever since the Doctor freed him from the Time Agency's prison.
“Why do you trust me?” he said.
The Doctor stared at him and blinked, once.
“Why do you trust me?” he repeated. “You wouldn't bring me along to rescue Rose if you didn't. You know I stole the timeline tracer. My family doesn't trust me. I don't trust myself. Why do you?”
“You didn't steal the timeline tracer, Jack,” the Doctor said. “Your former partner, Makarios Thibadeaux, did. He erased your memories and pinned the blame on you.”
“But…” But he'd promised his parents he would. They thought he had. They were proud of him for it. Could they have been mistaken? Did he realize his mistake and go back on his promise to them? “How do you know?”
“I knew you couldn't've done it, so Rose and I set out to find the person who did. It was Thibadeaux. We got him to confess. You'll be cleared of all charges soon enough.” Her eyes narrowed with remembered anger. “It was him who put Rose in danger. And the one who made those two years of yours disappear. I'm sorry.”
A curious lightness was spreading through Jack's body, a burden lifted that had been weighing invisibly behind his ribcage. “But you couldn't have known for sure that I didn't do it, before you went after Makarios. How did you know?”
“I didn't.” The Doctor's mouth didn't smile, but her eyes did. “I made a leap of faith. That's what trust is.”
Jack didn't know what to say to that, so he didn't say anything at all.
“You told me about the missing two years, but I didn't do anything about it,” the Doctor said, her expression firming into seriousness. The words clearly weren't coming easily to her. “I thought it was your fault. Paradox damage. Another mistake that you didn't fix in time. I was wrong. If I'd done something sooner, I could've spared you all this. And for that, I couldn't be more sorry. It won't happen again, Jack. I trust you.” She reached into her pocket, never looking away from his face, then pressed his hand between hers.
He felt something hard and metallic bite into his palm. At first, he didn't understand what it was, what it meant. When he realized that he was holding a key, he had to lean against the TARDIS to keep from sinking to his knees. He looked at the Doctor and felt like everything in his heart was bleeding out from his eyes.
“Whatever it is you want to say, save it for later,” she said, gently. “He took her to the Gallows. I can't find her in time unless you help me out.”
Trust, Jack found, was a burden entirely different from guilt. Instead of making every thought and movement unbearable with its weight, it was like gravity: it made him remember which way was up. He slid his key into the lock, relishing the rasp of the metal teeth and the smooth turn of the lock's tumblers. The first fall of orange-green light from the console room warmed him more than sunlight.
Jack held the door open and gestured for the Doctor to go in first. “After you,” he said.
The Doctor looked like she might protest, but she must have recognized that letting her go first meant something to Jack besides self-deprecation, because she nodded fractionally and stepped across the threshold. He followed her.
As soon as he closed the TARDIS door behind him, the chip in Jack's wrist flared mauve. A moment later, a horrible metallic scream overloaded his brain with painful noise, drowning out any other sound. His vision blurred around the edges; he could only just make out the Doctor snarling a curse and aiming her sonic screwdriver at the chip with one arm and catching him with her other as his legs buckled.
The noise cut out as suddenly as it had begun. Jack realized that the Doctor had laid him out on the floor, the back of his head propped up against the solid weight of her torso. “The Time Agency can talk all they like about how modern and enlightened they are. They're stuck in the Dark Ages, every one of them,” she said, her voice tempered with quiet anger. He could feel the vibrations in her chest as she spoke.
“You can put me down if you want,” Jack mumbled. She was warmer than he would have thought from how cool her hands were. “I'll be fine.”
“I don't want,” said the Doctor in a tone of voice that brooked no argument. “We'll wait until you can stand up properly. Then we'll go find Rose.”
It should have made him feel weak, being supported like this. He'd been hurt far worse than this in the Time Agency, and before that, the war. He always tried to get out of sickbay at the first opportunity and never took painkillers unless he had no choice. After all, there were other soldiers who probably needed them more than he did. But the Doctor had decided that he needed this, and that was a decision that was worth putting in her hands. If the Doctor held him, it wasn't because she thought he was weak. It was because she thought he was strong enough to let himself be vulnerable with her. It was a kind of strength he hadn't even known was in him.
Rose wished for the umpteenth time that she'd brought a jacket.
She had her hands stuffed in the pockets of her hoodie, the hood up over her hair, and her socks pulled up as high as they would go. Still, she had lost all feeling in her fingers, toes, and the tip of her nose. She was beginning to worry about frostbite. The Doctor had taught her the signs: first itching and pain, then ugly discolored patches appearing on her skin. Rose looked at her hands. They were the same color as they had always been. It didn't stop her from worrying. If frostbite didn't get her first, then the Time Agency might. And what if the Doctor or Mikaëla got to her in time, only to tell her that it was too late for Jack? She'd known the bloke for a few weeks at most, but the thought of losing him made a gap open in her chest, into which she could fall and fall before she ever reached the bottom.
There was a puff of air, suddenly, as the seal around the freezer door broke. Light spilled in, made waxy and dull by the force dome. The being outside was definitely not the Doctor or Mikaëla. It was wearing a lab coat, or as close to one as a garment made for someone with eight limbs could get. When it saw Rose, a bump on its head flared into brilliant white bioluminescence, a beacon that anyone nearby could hardly fail to notice. Then a hand reached up from behind it, grabbed it by a horn at the base of its neck, and squeezed. The Time Agency scientist convulsed, then the bump on its head went dark and it sagged to the floor.
Behind it stood a short, broad-shouldered woman with long silver hair threaded into many small braids. She had deep golden skin, almond-shaped blue eyes with heavy creases at their corners, and stark cheekbones. Her right ear had five earrings along its edge, while her left ear had none, and she wore calf-high boots, baggy shorts, and a sleeveless white shirt with a collar so high it nearly touched her chin.
“Why a kevla-Kan in a top-secret Time Agency facility would walk around with its rear horn exposed, I cannot fathom,” she said, with a tone of mild reproach. “Anybody could just walk up from behind and cut off its air supply. I hope it learns something from this experience.”
Rose just stared.
“Oh, not to worry, Rose! It's just metabolically dormant for now. The gas concentrations in its tissues will restabilize soon enough.” Five people who looked like cats on two legs came up behind her. “My lads will round everyone up until the Shadow Proclamation has decided upon the appropriate disciplinary measures. They won't be harming anyone else. Could you take this kevla-Kan to the teleport deck, please, lads? Dame Tyler needs to get out of that freezer, she looks like she's in quite a state.”
One of the cat-people, whose uniform had green wavy lines on it, nodded to the other four. They proceeded into the next room, which Rose had not dared to explore, while Green-Waves picked up the unconscious form of the Time Agency scientist and hauled it to the edge of the platform, where Rose had first been taken. The elder woman took Rose by the hand and helped her out of the freezer, dusting flakes of ice from her clothes.
“It's a pleasure to meet you at last, Rose Tyler,” she said, raising Rose's hand to her lips for a light kiss. “Mikaëla Thibadeaux, at your service.”
“Thank you, Mikaëla,” Rose managed to say.
“Oh no, all the thanks goes to you, Rose! We've been trying to pin charges of Article 56 violations on the Time Agency for decades now. Most people would have panicked and been immediately captured, in your place. Instead, you saved not only yourself, but all the people who are suffering and who might have suffered at the hands of these torturers.”
Rose didn't think she deserved that much credit - all she did was make a phone call - but she didn't bother to protest. “What are you going to do? I mean, there's the people who worked here, but then there's the people who gave the orders to have this place built, and the judges who sent all the prisoners here for their sick idea of punishment.”
Mikaëla shrugged. “Each signatory to the Shadow Proclamation has a different notion of what justice is. What we have done is to classify all these justice systems into fifteen categories. We have people assigned to represent each of these viewpoints. We give these questions out to teams of fifteen, who must debate until they reach a consensus. Then we act based on the teams' decisions.”
Rose imagined arguing with fourteen people as smart and stubborn as Jack or the Doctor, each with a different opinion. “Blimey. That must be… really difficult.”
“These are matters of life or death. They ought to be difficult. By comparison, this part,” Mikaëla said, gesturing all around her, “is easy. Break out the imprisoned, do whatever we can for them. This is why I chose to work for Enforcement, not Deliberation.”
The air began to stir around them, as if by a sudden breeze, though of course the force field meant that was impossible. Rose heard the sound that she'd spent all that time in the freezer longing to hear, the rasping and groaning that had become dearer than music to her ears.
Mikaëla recognized it too. She tilted her head back a little, closed her eyes, and smiled, the wind from the TARDIS' materialization making her braids flutter around her face.
After a moment, the TARDIS door opened, and the Doctor's head peered out. “Rose!”
“Yes, Doctor, I'm fine,” said Rose, smiling. “Though if you'd come a few minutes earlier, you could've been the dashing lady knight who came to my rescue.”
“I didn't know I had so much competition in the lady knight business,” the Doctor said with a chagrined expression. “Who - Mikaëla?”
Mikaëla raised an eyebrow. “Dame Doctor.”
“I - I'm sorry - what are you - I didn't know…”
Jack appeared in the TARDIS doorway beside the Doctor, looking at her with a mixture of amusement and awe. “Do my ears deceive me? You have a history with Mikaëla Thibadeaux?”
“If by history you mean that the last time I saw madame Doctor, she slammed a door in my face, then yes,” said Mikaëla.
“I thought you were friends!” Rose protested.
“We are,” said Mikaëla. “Or at least, I am hers.”
Everyone looked at the Doctor, except for Green-Waves, who had moved the unconscious kevla-Kan and was now standing at attention, trying not to look perturbed by the TARDIS' sudden appearance.
“You know I'm your friend, Mikaëla!” the Doctor said. “I just objected strongly to being dumped in a bath of frozen katamarite. Most would've done more than slam a door, under the circumstances.”
“What's katamarite?” Rose wondered.
“That's a rare kind of toxin, absorbed through the skin,” said Jack. “It temporarily suppresses telepathy.”
“It was medically necessary, Doctor, and you know it. I certainly didn't hear you object after the first five seconds.”
“All right, fine, my telepathic senses may have been overloading at the time, but then you wouldn't give me my clothes back!”
“You refused to wear anything but those rags you were wearing when you first showed up, and I couldn't let you wear them. They were practically radioactive. Then I offered you food and a haircut, because you looked like a scarecrow and you needed to stop feeling sorry for yourself and let yourself live.”
Finally, the Doctor said, grudgingly, “S'pose you're right. What you did helped me put my head back on straight.” She paused. “More or less.”
“Apology accepted.” Before Rose could ask what on earth they were talking about, Mikaëla continued, “Now, Dame Doctor, let's not be discourteous. You must introduce me to your handsome young friend.” Jack positively preened at the attention, but his pride turned visibly sour when she added, “I'm sure I recognize him from somewhere, but I just can't place it.”
“This is Captain Jack Harkness,” said the Doctor, pulling him by the shoulder out of the TARDIS doorway and toward Mikaëla, “though you may know him as Captain Shaylin Sel-Ahn.”
“Ah, Captain Sel-Ahn, of course! You were partnered with my wayward great-nephew for five years. You must have the goodwill of a prophet to manage him for so long. I always thought the Time Agency was exactly the wrong career for Makarios, but what with the family pressure, and the lure of power…” She tutted and shook her head, then took Jack's hand to kiss. “It's a pleasure, Captain.”
Rose exchanged sidelong glances with Jack and the Doctor. Mikaëla must not have known about Jack's arrest. She wasn't sure whether that was a good thing or not.
“Thank you, Dame Thibadeaux,” Jack said weakly. He sounded like someone who had just met the Prime Minister, realized that his flies were unzipped, and was desperately hoping no one would find out. Not that Jack would care if his flies were unzipped, no matter who he had just met.
All of this did not escape Mikaëla's notice. “Speaking of Makarios, where is the lad? I'd like to have a word with him.”
Rose exchanged another set of looks with the Doctor and Jack. They'd promised Makarios that they wouldn't tell Mikaëla about his crimes. But then again, what was a promise worth to a lowlife like him? He'd almost gotten her and Jack both killed, and stolen a timeline tracer, with which he had done terrible damage and could have done even worse.
“You promised him not to tell me, didn't you. Yes, that's a threat that would keep him in line. Very shrewd of you, Dame Doctor.” She didn't sound angry, just determined. Calculating. “Well, you don't have to tell me. I can find him on my own. Then no one could say that you'd reneged on your agreement.”
Rose stood there, uncertain. She liked Mikaëla, but she frightened Rose a little. Jack and the Doctor seemed similarly conflicted.
“Well, go on,” said Mikaëla. “Sail away on your timeship. Stumbling across a top-secret high-tech Time Agency torture chamber is your job. Mopping it up is mine. I can take it from here.”
Somewhere in the labyrinth of the platform, there was a faint yelp and the sound of something shattering. Mikaëla's people had taken the Time Agency by surprise, Rose thought with grim satisfaction.
“Thank you, Mikaëla,” said the Doctor. “If something had happened to Rose, I don't know what I would've done. I'm sure you'll do a good job bringing all this to rights.”
“No need to thank me. Rose rescued herself. I should think you'd have realized by now that it's a habit of hers. I can already tell.” Mikaëla got down on one knee to kiss the Doctor's hand, her lips lingering longer than they had on Rose's or Jack's. She looked up at the Doctor through her eyelashes. “I don't suppose there's a chance of getting you to promise me you'll visit?”
The Doctor placed two fingers under Mikaëla's chin and gently tilted her face upward. “No, there's not. But I might just run into you again. You never know.”
Rose felt her cheeks grow warm. She was not envious of Mikaëla. Watching the Doctor flirt was embarrassing, that was all. Like watching an eccentric schoolteacher try to flirt. She would feel exactly the same way if the Doctor were flirting with her or Jack instead.
Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Jack mouthing, You too, huh? She tried to look indignant, but she only blushed pinker.
“It was an honor to meet you, Dame Thibadeaux,” said Jack, perhaps a little louder than necessary.
“Yeah. So long, Mikaëla,” said Rose. “Good luck.” They all stepped through the TARDIS door, then closed it. As soon as the door was completely shut, Rose said, “What's she going to do to Makarios when she finds him?”
“Anything she wants,” said Jack, his voice and body animating into what Rose thought of as his storytelling mode. “Makarios told me that she underwent intensive gene therapy to become the most powerful and subtle human telepath of her time. She can do psychografts using her mind alone. Complete personality transplant, just like that.” He snapped his fingers. “The Doctor told me how you worked over Makarios. No wonder he chose prison over her. I'd rather that than have a completely different person walking around in my body, with everything I am just… gone.”
“That's not true, lad,” said the Doctor. “Mikaëla's got a reputation, especially within her own family, but she's nothing more than a minor telepathic talent. She can completely change your personality around - trust me - but that's just because she's Mikaëla, not because she's some telepathic mastermind. She gets her hooks in you, and after she's done you don't want to be who you were anymore. And she doesn't do it to just anyone - just those who she thinks need some serious readjusting.”
“And she did it to you,” said Rose. “After the war with the Daleks.”
There were two simultaneous intakes of breath. Jack stared at the Doctor; the Doctor stared at Rose.
“How did you know? Did Mikaëla tell you?” demanded the Doctor.
“The Last Great Time War is real?” cried Jack.
“I figured it out,” Rose said. “You were a right mess when I first met you - sorry, Doctor - but you weren't stark raving mad. Makes sense that someone helped you put the pieces back together, after.”
The Doctor leaned back against one of the coral struts and closed her eyes. “You're right, Rose. And yes, Jack, the Last Great Time War is real, and I'm its only survivor.”
Jack sat down on the grating, possibly because he was too overwhelmed to continue standing.
“What happened with Mikaëla?” asked Rose, quietly.
The Doctor opened her eyes and looked at Rose. She was pleading with her, silently, not to ask. Rose held firm. The Doctor's expression became pained. “I'll tell you. Both of you. Suppose you ought to know that you've got less reason to trust me than I had to trust Jack. But first things first.” She knelt on the grating so that she was near eye level with Jack. “How would you like to visit your family?”