Loose Ends chapter 2
Title: Loose Ends (2/3?)
Characters/Pairings: 11/Jamie, Amy/Rory (mentions 2/Jamie and 11/River)
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Doctor Who belongs to Stephen Moffat, Russel T. Davies, Sydney Newman, and the BBC
Summary: The Doctor reunites with one of his oldest friends, but there's some unscheduled history happening.
( Chapter One )
Chapter 2
The Doctor ran outside followed by his friends. The man who’d been writing up the list of the dead ran towards them.
“What happened?” asked the Doctor.
“We’re being attacked!”
“But, the rest of the Redcoats should be in Inverness by now,” said the Doctor.
“Aye,” answered the man, “That’s where they will have followed the rest of the Highland brigade to.”
“Yes. Why didn’t you go with them?”
“Some were too wounded to make the journey. Besides, someone had to collect the bodies for proper burial.”
“Right. What’s your name, incidentally?”
“Henry, sir. Of the MacGregor clan.”
“Thank you, Henry. I’m the Doctor. Is there anywhere the wounded can hold up?”
“I’ve instructed the women and the wounded to head for the barn a quarter mile south of the village.”
“Why are they attacking?” asked Jamie. “The battle’s over! We retreated! They decimated us! Isn’t that enough?!”
“I don’t know, Jamie,” said Henry. “One more thing. I hadn’t told the men yet, but I received word this morning. The prince has ordered us to disband. The rebellion is over. We lost.”
Another cannon ball fired and two cottages at the front of the village fell. “Well, the rebellion’s not over for somebody,” said Rory.
“Alright, boys,” said Amy. “Let’s be Scottish about this. Every able-bodied man and woman should stand their ground.”
“I’ve already ordered it, miss, for the men at least.” said Henry, taken aback. “Who’re you to be giving orders?”
“Amy Pond,” she said defiantly, and added, taking Rory’s hand, “And it’s missus.”
“Trust me,” said Rory. “If there’s a fight to be won, you’ll want her on your side.”
“Too right,” said the Doctor with a proud smile. “Now, let’s see what they want.” He headed for the edge of the village.
“Are you crazy?” cried Henry. “They’ll blow you away! Wait until we can see them. You aren’t even armed!”
“No, I never am,” the Doctor replied. “And I know we’ll be seeing them in just a moment, because unless they’ve had time to drag a new cannon and extra ammunition across the moor in the short time we’ve been here, they are using the cannon on the top of that little hill I crossed coming in, which had only one cannonball sitting next to it, and they fired two shots, which means there was one in the barrel, which means that that was their last shot.”
“Impressive,” said Henry.
“I know,” said Jamie smiling.
“He’s always like that,” said Amy feigning apathy.
They reached the edge of the village, where the uninjured men--about fifteen of them--were standing at arms, just as they saw thirty or so Redcoats coming down the hill. The Doctor made his way to the front, calmly raised his screwdriver and, just as they approached, yelled “STOP!” in his most commanding voice. To no one but Henry and his men’s surprise, they actually complied.
“I thought he said he wasn’t armed,” whispered Jamie.
“It’s just the sonic screwdriver,” said Rory. “He always uses this bluff.”
“THAT’S the sonic screwdriver?!” said Jamie in surprise.
“Yeah,” said Amy. “Didn’t he have it when you were with him?”
“Yeah, but it didn’t look like that.”
The Redcoats were lined up behind their leader, rifles raised. The leader stood in front of the doctor and aimed his pistol.
“Now,” said the Doctor. “You’re going to want to think very carefully about your answer to this question. Who are you and why have you come?”
“I am Leftenant Jacob Smythe, and I am here to finish off these Jacobite scum. You, sir, will stand aside unless you want to be hung as a traitor to your king.”
“Smythe,” said the Doctor. “I knew a woman called Smythe-much nicer than you. We both always wondered why her ancestors felt the need to posh up the name. Why do you think, Leftenant Smith?”
“It’s Smythe.” His hand tightened on his pistol.
The Doctor just smiled. “Let me hazard a guess as to why you’re really here, Leftenant Smith. After the battle, you and your men here got inebriated and thought, ‘You know what? Why did we even let them go? I bet good King George would be glad to see them completely exterminated. If I went and wiped them out, really finished them off properly, tied up all the loose ends, I bet Prince William would give me a nice promotion. Might even be knighted.’ Is that what you thought?”
Leftenant Smythe smiled snidely. “I think not of myself,” he said without a drop of sincerity. “Only of the needs of my country and my King. So long as a single Jacobite lives, the revolutionaries will just keep coming and the war will never end.”
“These people aren’t a threat to you. You know that. Most of the people in this village are injured. Many will die from their wounds.”
“Then I am only putting them out of their misery.”
The Doctor rolled his eyes. “It’s like talking to a brick wall!” he activated his screwdriver and all of the rifles in the first row backfired.
“It didn’t used to do that either!” said Jamie.
“What did it do?” asked Amy.
“Drive screws.”
“Run!” the Doctor shouted. He herded Jamie, Amy and Rory in the other direction, but Jamie stopped him.
“Doctor, I can’t just run. These are my people. I have to defend them.”
The Doctor stopped. “Amy, Rory, go on ahead to the barn.” Reluctantly, they complied. “Jamie, you don’t have to kill to defend your people. I thought you learned that with me.”
“I killed many a man in the battle,” said Jamie solemnly.
“How many?”
“Dunno. Didn’t really count.”
“Yes you did,” said the Doctor certainly. “Yes you did, Jamie. I know because I’ve killed millions of people, whole planets, and I counted every single one. How many lives have you taken, Jamie?”
Jamie stared at the Doctor for a moment, overcome with different kinds of grief, over the lives he’d taken, and over the thought that this man he so admired had killed so many. “Twenty-three,” he answered. “I’ll never forget that number as long as I live.”
“And how would you feel if it was thirty-three?”
“But Doctor, they’re dying!” he moved towards the battle that had already begun, but the Doctor held him back.
“Jamie!” he gripped his shoulders and looked him in the eyes. “I lost you once. I am NOT losing you again!” he grabbed Jamie’s hand and called back to the fighting men. “Fall back! Fall back!” and he ran for the barn. A few of the men listened, but most kept fighting.
Chapter 3
Characters/Pairings: 11/Jamie, Amy/Rory (mentions 2/Jamie and 11/River)
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Doctor Who belongs to Stephen Moffat, Russel T. Davies, Sydney Newman, and the BBC
Summary: The Doctor reunites with one of his oldest friends, but there's some unscheduled history happening.
( Chapter One )
Chapter 2
The Doctor ran outside followed by his friends. The man who’d been writing up the list of the dead ran towards them.
“What happened?” asked the Doctor.
“We’re being attacked!”
“But, the rest of the Redcoats should be in Inverness by now,” said the Doctor.
“Aye,” answered the man, “That’s where they will have followed the rest of the Highland brigade to.”
“Yes. Why didn’t you go with them?”
“Some were too wounded to make the journey. Besides, someone had to collect the bodies for proper burial.”
“Right. What’s your name, incidentally?”
“Henry, sir. Of the MacGregor clan.”
“Thank you, Henry. I’m the Doctor. Is there anywhere the wounded can hold up?”
“I’ve instructed the women and the wounded to head for the barn a quarter mile south of the village.”
“Why are they attacking?” asked Jamie. “The battle’s over! We retreated! They decimated us! Isn’t that enough?!”
“I don’t know, Jamie,” said Henry. “One more thing. I hadn’t told the men yet, but I received word this morning. The prince has ordered us to disband. The rebellion is over. We lost.”
Another cannon ball fired and two cottages at the front of the village fell. “Well, the rebellion’s not over for somebody,” said Rory.
“Alright, boys,” said Amy. “Let’s be Scottish about this. Every able-bodied man and woman should stand their ground.”
“I’ve already ordered it, miss, for the men at least.” said Henry, taken aback. “Who’re you to be giving orders?”
“Amy Pond,” she said defiantly, and added, taking Rory’s hand, “And it’s missus.”
“Trust me,” said Rory. “If there’s a fight to be won, you’ll want her on your side.”
“Too right,” said the Doctor with a proud smile. “Now, let’s see what they want.” He headed for the edge of the village.
“Are you crazy?” cried Henry. “They’ll blow you away! Wait until we can see them. You aren’t even armed!”
“No, I never am,” the Doctor replied. “And I know we’ll be seeing them in just a moment, because unless they’ve had time to drag a new cannon and extra ammunition across the moor in the short time we’ve been here, they are using the cannon on the top of that little hill I crossed coming in, which had only one cannonball sitting next to it, and they fired two shots, which means there was one in the barrel, which means that that was their last shot.”
“Impressive,” said Henry.
“I know,” said Jamie smiling.
“He’s always like that,” said Amy feigning apathy.
They reached the edge of the village, where the uninjured men--about fifteen of them--were standing at arms, just as they saw thirty or so Redcoats coming down the hill. The Doctor made his way to the front, calmly raised his screwdriver and, just as they approached, yelled “STOP!” in his most commanding voice. To no one but Henry and his men’s surprise, they actually complied.
“I thought he said he wasn’t armed,” whispered Jamie.
“It’s just the sonic screwdriver,” said Rory. “He always uses this bluff.”
“THAT’S the sonic screwdriver?!” said Jamie in surprise.
“Yeah,” said Amy. “Didn’t he have it when you were with him?”
“Yeah, but it didn’t look like that.”
The Redcoats were lined up behind their leader, rifles raised. The leader stood in front of the doctor and aimed his pistol.
“Now,” said the Doctor. “You’re going to want to think very carefully about your answer to this question. Who are you and why have you come?”
“I am Leftenant Jacob Smythe, and I am here to finish off these Jacobite scum. You, sir, will stand aside unless you want to be hung as a traitor to your king.”
“Smythe,” said the Doctor. “I knew a woman called Smythe-much nicer than you. We both always wondered why her ancestors felt the need to posh up the name. Why do you think, Leftenant Smith?”
“It’s Smythe.” His hand tightened on his pistol.
The Doctor just smiled. “Let me hazard a guess as to why you’re really here, Leftenant Smith. After the battle, you and your men here got inebriated and thought, ‘You know what? Why did we even let them go? I bet good King George would be glad to see them completely exterminated. If I went and wiped them out, really finished them off properly, tied up all the loose ends, I bet Prince William would give me a nice promotion. Might even be knighted.’ Is that what you thought?”
Leftenant Smythe smiled snidely. “I think not of myself,” he said without a drop of sincerity. “Only of the needs of my country and my King. So long as a single Jacobite lives, the revolutionaries will just keep coming and the war will never end.”
“These people aren’t a threat to you. You know that. Most of the people in this village are injured. Many will die from their wounds.”
“Then I am only putting them out of their misery.”
The Doctor rolled his eyes. “It’s like talking to a brick wall!” he activated his screwdriver and all of the rifles in the first row backfired.
“It didn’t used to do that either!” said Jamie.
“What did it do?” asked Amy.
“Drive screws.”
“Run!” the Doctor shouted. He herded Jamie, Amy and Rory in the other direction, but Jamie stopped him.
“Doctor, I can’t just run. These are my people. I have to defend them.”
The Doctor stopped. “Amy, Rory, go on ahead to the barn.” Reluctantly, they complied. “Jamie, you don’t have to kill to defend your people. I thought you learned that with me.”
“I killed many a man in the battle,” said Jamie solemnly.
“How many?”
“Dunno. Didn’t really count.”
“Yes you did,” said the Doctor certainly. “Yes you did, Jamie. I know because I’ve killed millions of people, whole planets, and I counted every single one. How many lives have you taken, Jamie?”
Jamie stared at the Doctor for a moment, overcome with different kinds of grief, over the lives he’d taken, and over the thought that this man he so admired had killed so many. “Twenty-three,” he answered. “I’ll never forget that number as long as I live.”
“And how would you feel if it was thirty-three?”
“But Doctor, they’re dying!” he moved towards the battle that had already begun, but the Doctor held him back.
“Jamie!” he gripped his shoulders and looked him in the eyes. “I lost you once. I am NOT losing you again!” he grabbed Jamie’s hand and called back to the fighting men. “Fall back! Fall back!” and he ran for the barn. A few of the men listened, but most kept fighting.
Chapter 3