Fic: Valiant 21/38
Title: Valiant Chapter 21/38
Author: MeiLin
Characters/pairing in this chapter: Larry Nightingale, Sally Sparrow
Rating for this chapter: PG
Summary for this chapter: Larry Nightingale and Sally Sparrow tell the Story.
A/N for this chapter: A version of this chapter originally appeared as part of the story "Birds of a Feather." It has been edited and expanded since then.
Valiant Central Page
"...And she's walking the whole earth, telling everyone about the Doctor." Sally looked out over the hushed workers huddled in the crowded room, and then at Larry beside her. "The Doctor saved my life. Larry's too. And we've met Martha."
A murmur went up around the room. "What's she like?" came a young voice.
Sally gazed down at the boy, who couldn't have been more than 14, and smiled. "She's beautiful."
"Like you. I knew it," he murmured.
"She's this tiny person, but when you're with her it's as if she's the biggest thing in the room. She's so strong." Sally paused. "When you're with her, you feel as if you can do anything. And you can, you know." She looked around the room, her girlish face serious but calm. "I know things are dark right now. But don't be afraid."
"We hear," said Larry, "that some of the people in this camp are going to be transferred soon to the new factories. We are relying on you to spread this message when you go."
"Even if it's just to other workers here during your shifts, you need to pass this on to as many other people as possible, exactly as I told you, and be sure they pass it on as well," added Sally. "Can you do that? Exactly as I told you?" Heads nodded solemnly. "All of us together are the hope of humanity. As long as Martha Jones is walking the world, and as long as we're all telling the story to each other, there is hope."
"Now," said the older man who informally led the workers, "off to bed with you all. Sally," he said to her as the people slumped off to their pallets, "we don't have much, but you're welcome to it. In fact--" he reached into a foot locker--"I have a little treat. Don't worry, we've all had some."
"Tea!" said Larry in surprise. "Real tea! Where on earth did you get it!"
"Oh, thank you, Sam," said Sally warmly, taking the little packet of tea bags. "We need to be off tonight."
"I've arranged for you to use the graveyard shift change as cover--the shift leader knows. You can hide at his barracks until then." Sam began helping them gather their gear together. "How many times have you told the Story?"
"Lost count," Larry replied, packing his small rucksack. "The important thing is that you keep telling it--that YOU lose count of how many times it's been told."
"We can't tell everyone in Britain ourselves, just the two of us," Sally added, putting a hand on Sam's shoulder. "Every time we tell it, we expand the network of Storytellers, so it's your turn now."
"Martha is depending on you. So is the Doctor. Everything depends on you, on us, all of us together."
"So you said," he smiled sadly. "I hope you're right."
"Just look at it this way," said Larry with an answering grin, "it can't get much worse, yeah?"
"Yeah," Sam said, troubled. "Yeah."
Down the hall in the men's dormitory, Sam could faintly hear the boy who asked Sally about Martha. He was the youngest in the camp. The little children were long gone. "Now, you lot couldn't hear very well in the back, so I'm going to tell you what they said, an' it's important, so listen up, because then it'll be your turn to tell it and you have to get it right. There's this girl, see, and her name's Martha Jones. An' she's beautiful and strong, but that's not the important part..."
Sally and Larry turned to go. "Wait." Sam put his hand on Larry's arm. He sighed. "Wait. It's not safe."
Sally smiled. "Well, no, it never is."
"No," said Sam, "I mean, they know when you're leaving and how. I...I told them. They'll be waiting for you. None of the others know about it. About what I've done."
Sally glanced at Larry, who ran one hand over his bearded chin. "Sam," she said tentatively, "thank you for telling us."
"Yeah, Sam," said Larry sourly, "thanks awfully."
"I'm sorry. I--I'm sorry." Sam took a deep breath and let it all out, and suddenly he looked much, much older. "It's so hard. I'm afraid all the time, we're all so afraid. I'm so afraid what they'll do to us if we stand up to the Master at all!" He searched Sally's face beseechingly. "How can you be so brave? Why aren't you afraid?"
"But I am, Sam! I'm terrified!" She took one of his hands and put it on the pulse point of her throat. "Feel that? My heart's like a triphammer. Brave is doing the right thing anyway, even when you're scared to death. That's the first thing the Doctor taught me, and he didn't even try to."
"Brave, fine," said Larry, flapping his arms in exasperation. "The question is, what do we do now? Why don't they just come get us?"
Sam rubbed his face. "Because they don't want any trouble. If you're out in the open it'll be easier. But if you don't show up when you're expected, they'll toss the camp looking for you." He sat down on the locker and sighed. "You can blame the tea if you like."
"Oh, I'm thinking I blame you, old chap," said Larry.
"Fair enough, my son," replied Sam, "but the tea was the cause." His face darkened. "My oldest girl Sharon got caught bringing it to another barracks. The security officers came to me and said if I wanted her back, I'd give up the Storytellers when they came through."
"We're not the only ones--there's a network of us," said Sally.
"But you were the ones who came here, and so I gave you up. They didn't want the smugglers, they wanted you. Not surprising--a lot of the guards are involved in smuggling, at all the camps. Wouldn't want to upset that little racket."
"So what happens now?" said Larry. "We just turn ourselves in?"
"No," said Sam.
"No?" Larry replied, eyebrows arched. "What's the plan, then, Sam? And why should we trust it?"
"You trust me because you have to. The plan is, I get you out right now, via the smugglers. The guards will let you pass--most of them are with us for all they carry guns, as long as they can tell each other you were smugglers and not insurgents. And then I turn myself in at the graveyard shift change in a few hours and tell them what I've done. That way they won't penalize the camp. It will only come down on me."
"You would do that?" Sally said, taking his hand. "We can't ask you to do that. And what about your daughter?"
"Yes, I'd do it, and I'd be surprised if they gave me back my Sharon anyway. Security took her, not the camp guards. I'd be surprised if there's a Sharon to give back." He let out a small strangled sound. Sally took him in her arms and hugged him close, Larry's hands on his shoulders. "Let me do this," Sam said, turning to look up at Larry, tears in his rheumy eyes. "The Story matters more. Let me do this."
"Do you think you can tell this Story, exactly as we've told it?" Larry asked the little knot of farm workers sitting exhausted on the barn floor. "It's important that you tell it just as we've told it. The world--maybe the universe--depends on it." He looked over at Sally.
"People have died to make sure Storytellers like us can spread the Story," she continued. "You owe it to them to tell as many people as you can, exactly as we've told it. Those heroes become part of the Story. Let me tell you about one of them--Sam. He was a very brave man because he was frightened, just as frightened as you are right now, but he did the right thing anyway. And if he hadn't, our Story would have come to an end..."
Author: MeiLin
Characters/pairing in this chapter: Larry Nightingale, Sally Sparrow
Rating for this chapter: PG
Summary for this chapter: Larry Nightingale and Sally Sparrow tell the Story.
A/N for this chapter: A version of this chapter originally appeared as part of the story "Birds of a Feather." It has been edited and expanded since then.
Valiant Central Page
"...And she's walking the whole earth, telling everyone about the Doctor." Sally looked out over the hushed workers huddled in the crowded room, and then at Larry beside her. "The Doctor saved my life. Larry's too. And we've met Martha."
A murmur went up around the room. "What's she like?" came a young voice.
Sally gazed down at the boy, who couldn't have been more than 14, and smiled. "She's beautiful."
"Like you. I knew it," he murmured.
"She's this tiny person, but when you're with her it's as if she's the biggest thing in the room. She's so strong." Sally paused. "When you're with her, you feel as if you can do anything. And you can, you know." She looked around the room, her girlish face serious but calm. "I know things are dark right now. But don't be afraid."
"We hear," said Larry, "that some of the people in this camp are going to be transferred soon to the new factories. We are relying on you to spread this message when you go."
"Even if it's just to other workers here during your shifts, you need to pass this on to as many other people as possible, exactly as I told you, and be sure they pass it on as well," added Sally. "Can you do that? Exactly as I told you?" Heads nodded solemnly. "All of us together are the hope of humanity. As long as Martha Jones is walking the world, and as long as we're all telling the story to each other, there is hope."
"Now," said the older man who informally led the workers, "off to bed with you all. Sally," he said to her as the people slumped off to their pallets, "we don't have much, but you're welcome to it. In fact--" he reached into a foot locker--"I have a little treat. Don't worry, we've all had some."
"Tea!" said Larry in surprise. "Real tea! Where on earth did you get it!"
"Oh, thank you, Sam," said Sally warmly, taking the little packet of tea bags. "We need to be off tonight."
"I've arranged for you to use the graveyard shift change as cover--the shift leader knows. You can hide at his barracks until then." Sam began helping them gather their gear together. "How many times have you told the Story?"
"Lost count," Larry replied, packing his small rucksack. "The important thing is that you keep telling it--that YOU lose count of how many times it's been told."
"We can't tell everyone in Britain ourselves, just the two of us," Sally added, putting a hand on Sam's shoulder. "Every time we tell it, we expand the network of Storytellers, so it's your turn now."
"Martha is depending on you. So is the Doctor. Everything depends on you, on us, all of us together."
"So you said," he smiled sadly. "I hope you're right."
"Just look at it this way," said Larry with an answering grin, "it can't get much worse, yeah?"
"Yeah," Sam said, troubled. "Yeah."
Down the hall in the men's dormitory, Sam could faintly hear the boy who asked Sally about Martha. He was the youngest in the camp. The little children were long gone. "Now, you lot couldn't hear very well in the back, so I'm going to tell you what they said, an' it's important, so listen up, because then it'll be your turn to tell it and you have to get it right. There's this girl, see, and her name's Martha Jones. An' she's beautiful and strong, but that's not the important part..."
Sally and Larry turned to go. "Wait." Sam put his hand on Larry's arm. He sighed. "Wait. It's not safe."
Sally smiled. "Well, no, it never is."
"No," said Sam, "I mean, they know when you're leaving and how. I...I told them. They'll be waiting for you. None of the others know about it. About what I've done."
Sally glanced at Larry, who ran one hand over his bearded chin. "Sam," she said tentatively, "thank you for telling us."
"Yeah, Sam," said Larry sourly, "thanks awfully."
"I'm sorry. I--I'm sorry." Sam took a deep breath and let it all out, and suddenly he looked much, much older. "It's so hard. I'm afraid all the time, we're all so afraid. I'm so afraid what they'll do to us if we stand up to the Master at all!" He searched Sally's face beseechingly. "How can you be so brave? Why aren't you afraid?"
"But I am, Sam! I'm terrified!" She took one of his hands and put it on the pulse point of her throat. "Feel that? My heart's like a triphammer. Brave is doing the right thing anyway, even when you're scared to death. That's the first thing the Doctor taught me, and he didn't even try to."
"Brave, fine," said Larry, flapping his arms in exasperation. "The question is, what do we do now? Why don't they just come get us?"
Sam rubbed his face. "Because they don't want any trouble. If you're out in the open it'll be easier. But if you don't show up when you're expected, they'll toss the camp looking for you." He sat down on the locker and sighed. "You can blame the tea if you like."
"Oh, I'm thinking I blame you, old chap," said Larry.
"Fair enough, my son," replied Sam, "but the tea was the cause." His face darkened. "My oldest girl Sharon got caught bringing it to another barracks. The security officers came to me and said if I wanted her back, I'd give up the Storytellers when they came through."
"We're not the only ones--there's a network of us," said Sally.
"But you were the ones who came here, and so I gave you up. They didn't want the smugglers, they wanted you. Not surprising--a lot of the guards are involved in smuggling, at all the camps. Wouldn't want to upset that little racket."
"So what happens now?" said Larry. "We just turn ourselves in?"
"No," said Sam.
"No?" Larry replied, eyebrows arched. "What's the plan, then, Sam? And why should we trust it?"
"You trust me because you have to. The plan is, I get you out right now, via the smugglers. The guards will let you pass--most of them are with us for all they carry guns, as long as they can tell each other you were smugglers and not insurgents. And then I turn myself in at the graveyard shift change in a few hours and tell them what I've done. That way they won't penalize the camp. It will only come down on me."
"You would do that?" Sally said, taking his hand. "We can't ask you to do that. And what about your daughter?"
"Yes, I'd do it, and I'd be surprised if they gave me back my Sharon anyway. Security took her, not the camp guards. I'd be surprised if there's a Sharon to give back." He let out a small strangled sound. Sally took him in her arms and hugged him close, Larry's hands on his shoulders. "Let me do this," Sam said, turning to look up at Larry, tears in his rheumy eyes. "The Story matters more. Let me do this."
"Do you think you can tell this Story, exactly as we've told it?" Larry asked the little knot of farm workers sitting exhausted on the barn floor. "It's important that you tell it just as we've told it. The world--maybe the universe--depends on it." He looked over at Sally.
"People have died to make sure Storytellers like us can spread the Story," she continued. "You owe it to them to tell as many people as you can, exactly as we've told it. Those heroes become part of the Story. Let me tell you about one of them--Sam. He was a very brave man because he was frightened, just as frightened as you are right now, but he did the right thing anyway. And if he hadn't, our Story would have come to an end..."