TLAWR Chapter 61: Lady in Red
Rated: R (to be safe)
Features: The 10th Doctor, Rose Tyler, Martha Jones, Donna Noble, Astrid Peth, the 5th Doctor, the Brigadier, UNIT, Gwen Cooper, Ianto Jones, Rhys Williams, Mickey Smith, Sarah Jane Smith, River Song, Jenny, Lee MacAvoy and others.
Pairings: Doctor/Rose, Jack/Ianto, Martha/Mickey
A/N: Nothing you recognize belongs to me! Original dialogue from 'The Next Doctor' used where appropriate.
(Earlier Entries) ( Chapter Fifty-Seven ) ( Chapter 58 ) (Chapter Fifty-Nine) ( Chapter Sixty)
Martha Jones materialized just outside Cardiff proper. She'd gone home and seen her family, but there was only so much of her mother's questioning and her father's concern that she could stand in one night. Moving to Manhattan had been one of the best things she'd ever done for herself; Martha loved her family but years of being the peace-keeper had worn grooves in her reactions and making new pathways was easiest if she couldn't come running when they called. The end of the world was definitely a reason to go home for a bit, but Jack needed help and everyone was alright: Tish was with her boyfriend (they'd been on a street the Daleks had ignored) and Leo, Shonara, and Keisha had all been over for a visit when it had happened. They'd locked themselves in the basement and they were fine. UNIT was giving her a leave of absence, what with the way she helped save the world and all. So it was back to Cardiff and the Hub, which was where she'd been aiming the teleport, originally, but there was something about the structure that made teleportation in and around it impossible. The Doctor said it had something to do with the metals Torchwood had used during the Hub's construction, but then he went on a bit of a ramble and Martha did what she always did-she tuned him out. If there was one thing that Martha Jones had learned during her time on the TARDIS it was that the Doctor could talk for hours on subjects that she knew nothing about, and that if she let him she would wind up more confused than she was at the beginning.
She walked down the street with Project Indigo still strapped to her back. Signs of last night's chaos and celebration were everywhere. Windows were smashed, broken glass and other detritus littered the ground. Cars were dented and broken and the remains of hastily-set fires were scattered through the city-but daily life continued. There were people beginning to emerge from buildings with brooms and garbage bags and a determined set to their face. Stores were opening and a café across from the Hub on Millennium Plaza looked to be doing brisk business. If she lived to be as old as the Doctor Martha would never cease to be amazed by mankind's ability to adapt and persevere in the strangest and most traumatic circumstances.
The aroma of freshly brewed coffee drifted past her on the cool morning breeze and she joined the other people waiting in line at the café. Her time at Royal Hope Hospital left her with an appreciation for coffee that working for UNIT encouraged. It was a nice change of pace from tea. It was a bit unbritish of her, but she'd never been fond of the beverage. She ordered, paid, and obediently made her way to the pick-up station. The Osterhagen key dug into her thigh as she twisted to avoid another patron. The blasted thing wasn't designed to be shoved into a pocket, no, it was designed to destroy the planet. Martha meant what she told the Doctor: she will make sure the key is decommissioned. It seemed heavier in her pocket than she remembered, and the knowledge of what she had almost done, what she had been prepared to do, if necessary, would keep her awake at nights. No one should be able to make that choice.
A familiar voice drew her away from dark thoughts. Mickey Smith was standing at the counter. She smiled and waved and he joined her at the other end of the café.
"Didn't you go to London?" he asked by way of greeting.
"I did." The barista called her name and Martha took her coffee eagerly. "And now I'm back."
The barista brought Mickey's order over and he fell in step next to Martha as she navigated through the press of people. "I grew up in London," he said after the door closed behind them. "Me an' Rose, on the Powell Estate."
"That's in south London, yeah?" Martha let the cup warm her cold hands.
"Yeah."
"What was it like?" she asked, mostly to make small talk, but partly because she was curious. Her home life was never easy; her parents' had been fighting for as long as she could remember and they'd divorced when she was young-but she'd never wanted for anything. They'd both had good jobs and her father in particular tried to make up for missed dance recitals and birthdays and parent-teacher conferences with presents. The housing estates might as well have been another planet, for all the experience she'd had with them.
Mickey took a long drink. "It was hard sometimes," he admitted. "Dad left when I was little, mum couldn't handle everything alone. My gran ended up raising me. She was on benefits 'cause she was blind, so we didn't have a lot, but we got by."
"Sounds rough."
"Could be," he agreed. "What about you? How'd you wind up involved with this lot?"
"I was studying to be a doctor at Royal Hope Hospital when it ended up on the moon." She took a drink. "It's not exactly the sort of thing you forget. And the Doctor was there. He had this rubbish plan to unmask this plasmavore that was hiding there by letting her drink his blood and assimilate his alienness so the Judoon-basically space-rhino cops-would find her and return the hospital."
Mickey whistled. "Judoon, huh. Nasty bunch, them."
"You're telling me," Martha agreed. "They didn't even care that she'd rigged the MRI to explode! It would have killed half the people on the planet! They just killed the plasmavore and left; the Doctor had to fix the MRI. And it took them bloody ages to get the hospital back where it belonged. We were lucky-no one died. Any longer and people would have started suffocating. After that-" She shrugged. "I saved his life, he offered to take me on a trip as thanks. One trip led to one trip backwards and one trip forwards in time, and eventually I just signed on."
Mickey was quiet for a moment. "Still traveling with him, then?"
Martha laughed. "God, no. I mean-I wouldn't have traded it for anything, but it was never permanent. And I don't need to travel with him to be the best. I'm already the best, all by myself."
"Yeah." He nodded. "Sometimes you have to get out so you can be your own person, without people around who expect you to be who you used to be."
Jack was waiting for them when they returned to the Hub. Donna and Lee were nowhere to be seen, but Ianto was fiddling with something on one of the computer terminals.
"Hello gorgeous," Jack said with a wink.
"Oi," Mickey objected, "are you talkin' to her or me?"
"Are you really going to make me choose?" the other man asked with a pout. Mickey rolled his eyes but Martha laughed and hugged Jack. "How's everyone?"
"They're good," she replied. "Mum sends her best, and that you're welcome to visit."
"Next time aliens invade London I'll be there," Jack promised dryly. "Now!" He rubbed his hands together. "Let's get down to business. As I was telling Mickey last night, we seem to be short a few people." He gestured at the Hub around them. "And I really can't think of two more qualified individuals for the jobs."
"I already have a job," Martha reminded him.
Jack grinned. "I know. But look at this face. Can you really say no to this beautiful face?"
"No," Mickey said and Martha couldn't keep from smiling as Jack slapped a hand over his heart and did his best to look wounded. "Like I said, been working for Torchwood for more than five years. I thought I'd take a vacation, maybe freelance for a bit."
Jack turned back to Martha and she shook her head. "We'll see, mister."
"That's better than a 'no,' so I can live with that." He picked a steaming mug off the computer terminal and took a long drink. "Now let's get down to business. Mr. Mickey here needs a new identity, seeing as how he's been declared dead."
The Doctor was out the door like a shot. If the Cybermen were active than their plan was coming to a head and if that was the case than he and Rose were out of time. It wasn't supposed to happen like this; they were supposed to go back to 1850 and have a nice, relaxing day. No running, no danger, and certainly no metal men bent on world domination. What was that saying Doris had been fond of-oh yes: men plan, God laughs. Not that he believed in a mythical higher being, but 'men plan, the universe laughs' didn't have the same ring.
Back inside the stables Rose moved to follow the Doctor but Jackson caught her arm. "Wait," he said. "In this story-who are you?"
She quirked an eyebrow. "I'm Rose, like I said. Rose Tyler."
"Yes," Jackson agreed. "But the infostamp contained information on the Doctor's companions. I have no memory of anyone named 'Rose Tyler.' So I ask again, Madame, who are you? Earlier you claimed to be his wife-is that true? Is anything you've told me true?"
"You're looking in the wrong book, mate." Her voice was soft, but there was steel in it. "I was a companion, once, a long time ago. You want to know my story, look under 'Bad Wolf.' Now I've got to go. He's useless on his own." She pulled her arm out of Jackson's grasp and ran after the Doctor.
Jackson remained as if frozen where he stood. His eyes were distant, focused on something that only he could see. Rosita took a hesitant step forward and her proximity seemed to snap him out of his reverie.
"Sir?" she inquired hesitantly.
"Go with them." His voice was rough and his shoulders sagged.
She crossed her arms over her chest. "I'd really rather not, Doctor."
"Jackson," he corrected her. "My name is Jackson Lake. I am not the Doctor."
"Jackson." It felt strange to her, calling him anything other than 'Doctor,' but he wasn't the Doctor, apparently. "I think I should stay with you, sir."
He shook his head. "They are strangers, Rosita. For all of his cleverness, the Doctor is not familiar with our London. They will need your help."
Still, she hesitated. "Sir…"
"Go!" he snapped.
She went.
They didn't get far; they didn't have to. The streets were clogged by a parade of poorly dressed children shepherded along by a distinguished looking man sporting shoulder-length greay hair, something shiny peeking out from his ears. Goosebumps raced down Rose's spine. She recognized the sleek design and flashing blue lights that adorned the devices. It was Lumic's work, all right. Whoever he was, the Cybermen were thinking for him now. A crowd of people had gathered to watch the strange spectacle and Rose and the Doctor pushed through them.
"That's Mr. Cole!" Rosita cried. "He runs the Hazel Street Workhouse."
"Not anymore," the Doctor replied grimly.
Rosita balked. "How do you mean?"
The Doctor remained silent. As Mr. Cole drew abreast of them he reached into his jacket for the sonic screwdriver-and a low, rumbling growl drifted out of the shadows. Something moved in the darkness and lamplight glinted off the copper masks of the strange, animalistic cybershades. They were everywhere. The Doctor let his hand fall. He wouldn't risk a confrontation, not with the children all around. It would be all too easy for one (or more) of them to get hurt.
"They deserve a good whipping," a familiar voice grumbled from behind them. "Lookit 'em all, clogging up the roads. There's another lot from Ingleby Workhouse down Broadback lane too." Jed ambled up, hands in his pockets and a sour frown on his face. "It'll be ages 'for this lot clears off."
Rose frowned. "The Cybermen are controlling workhouse masters," she began, "but why? What could they need that many kids for?"
"They're not just children." The Doctor's face was tight, his eyes hard and bright as he watched the long procession. His whole body was taut as a bowstring. "They're orphaned children-wards of the Church and later the State. They were the first factory workers in the early stages of the Industrial Revolution. No such thing as a childhood for an orphan; they're put to work immediately and that's what they are: a workforce."
"For what?" Rosita's voice was hushed and incredulous.
"No idea," the Doctor replied. "But it's time to find out."
They followed the children down more allies and back roads. Rose prized her sense of direction but the twisting nature of the streets soon had her baffled. Tenements loomed over them on either side and it was like walking at the bottom of a great chasm: claustrophobic. She itched to be out in the open again. Her Torchwood training had her on edge: they were in ambush territory and she wasn't sure how well her psychokinetic wavelength disruptor would work against the shades-one had to have a mind to be affected, after all.
Along the way other groups of raggedy children joined them, until there was a veritable army of orphans marching through two tall metal doors guarded by Cybermen. The Doctor turned to Rosita and gestured at the scene. "Those doors, where do they go?"
"The sluice," she replied. "All the sewage runs through there, straight to the Thames."
"Brilliant," Rose muttered. "Another sewer." The Doctor flashed her a grin and she rolled her eyes at him. "Seriously, though-top secret base under the Thames?"
"Not as uncommon as you'd think," he responded lightly as he scanned the area for any available back entrance; the front was too crowded and too exposed, no way they'd get past the Cybermen without a fight. "When I first met Donna we ended up in a secret Torchwood base beneath the Thames." He shoved his hands in his pockets and turned away. "We're not getting through there; time to find another way in." They withdrew from the piles of crates where they had been crouched, observing-but there were complications. Two Cybermen were waiting for them as they crept into a side street.
"Oi!" the Doctor exclaimed. "That's cheating. What'd you do, put your legs on silent?" He positioned himself subtly in front of Rose and Rosita, one hand resting on the sonic screwdriver. Rose was poised to run but her psychokinetic wavelength disruptor was solid in her hand, shielded behind the Doctor's back. It would work on Cybermen; the only human bit they had left was a brain.
The Cybermen did not respond. They stood, straight and stiff and silent, blocking the way but not advancing. The Doctor frowned and tilted his head to the side. Something didn't fit. They should be advancing, demanding conversion or death. They should be firing those deadly energy beams.
A woman stepped out of the shadows. She was tall and pale, with long brown hair pulled tightly back from her severely beautiful face in what Rose assumed to be a fashionable style. Her back was bayonette straight and the vibrant red of her dress leant no warmth to her. She surveyed the three in front of her with a clear, deliberate gaze.
"My, my, my," she murmured. "What have we here?"
"Step toward me," the Doctor directed and Rose wondered if he even really saw the woman; his eyes remained fixed on the Cybermen who flanked her. "Don't look behind you, just-come away."
The woman smiled and it was like sunlight reflected off of ice on a winter morning. "Oh, they won't hurt me, not my lovely boys. They're my knights in shining armor-literally."
"That's not a cyberspeech pattern." He was still trying. One of the many things Rose loved about the Doctor was his absolute refusal to give up: on life, on the universe, on a single person. He was the eternal optimist which worked to his advantage, sometimes-and sometimes it broke his heart. "Even if they've started the conversion," he continued, "you've still got free will. I can help you."
Rose put her hand on his arm and he glanced back at her, eyes wide and intent. "I don't think they needed to convert her," Rose pointed out gently.
The woman chuckled and Rose thought of glaciers cracking at the poles. "Quite right," she agreed. "There was not and will not be any conversion."
"Who are you then?" Rose demanded. "Why are you working with the Cybermen?" Before she traveled with the Doctor, before she met Jimmy Stone and she was still in school, Rose had never been able to understand why some people just stepped back and let others commit atrocities. She never understood the idea of the silent majority, and how far people were willing to go in order to preserve their power or to gain more. But she understood now, after she'd seen it all across the galaxy. Some things never changed, and one of them was that people would get into bed with the devil himself if they thought they could get something out of it.
"I'm the woman in charge. The Cybermen offered me the one thing I wanted-liberation." She raised one sculpted eyebrow and managed to convey a world of scorn. "And who might you be?"
"I'm the Doctor," he replied. "And this is Rose Tyler." Rose gave the woman a sarcastic salute.
"And I'm Rosita," the other woman added, "if anyone's interested."
"You can be quiet," the woman in charge snarled. "I doubt they paid you to talk."
Rosita paled abruptly and looked away. Hot anger surged through Rose's veins. "She's not a prostitute you great bully," she snapped back. "And even if she was, doesn't give you the right to talk to her like that!"
The woman in red ignored her and focused her attention instead on the Doctor. "Who are you, then, with such knowledge of my companions?"
"He rocked back on his heels, his hands shoved into his trouser pockets. "I told you, I'm the Doctor."
"That is not a name," she pressed. "Doctor who?"
"Just the Doctor."
"Negative," one of the Cybermen objected. "You do not match the description of the enemy designated 'the Doctor.'"
"Oh, I know," he agreed. "But your database is corrupted; must have happened in the Void." He pulled his hand out of his pocket and tossed the damaged infostamp to the Cyberman who had spoken. "There you go. Download that and then we'll talk."
The Cyberman examined it. "The core has been damaged. This infostamp would damage cyberunits."
The Doctor scratched the back of his neck and shot an apologetic look in Rose's direction. "Worth a shot."
The Cyberman inserted the infostamp into a port on one arm. The light on the end began to flash erratically, slowed for a moment, and then fell back into a steady rhythm. "Core repaired," it droned. "Downloading. Download complete. Identity confirmed; you are the Doctor."
He flashed a fierce grin at them. "The one and only."
"How nice." The woman's voice fairly dripped with insincerity. "Now kill them."
"Wait, wait, wait." The Doctor held up his hands. "Just-let me die happy. What do you need the children for?"
She laughed. "What are children always for? They are a workforce."
He nodded. "Yes, but for what?"
"Soon the whole empire will see, and they will bow down in worship." She smiled again, a small, savage baring of teeth.
"And that was your plan then, Miss…?"
"Hartigan," the woman supplied. It was the first real bit of information she'd given them. "Yes, it was. Now, we're on a bit of a schedule. It was an honor to be the subject of your last conversation, Doctor."
The Cybermen advanced, arms raised to fire. "Delete," they droned. "Delete." Rose brought the psychokinetic wavelength disrupt up and removed the safety. The Doctor thrust the sonic screwdriver in front of him-and a wave of crackling energy swept over the Cybermen not from Rose or the Doctor, but from behind Ms. Hartigan. Jackson Lake strode out of the shadows with a damaged infostamp smoking in his hand and a belt of them wrapped around his chest. The Cybermen fell to the ground with a great crash.
"At your service, Doctor," he called. "Ms. Tyler, Rosita, are you well?"
Ms. Hartigan stumbled back. There was no fear in her expression, only fury. "Shades!" she yelled. "Shades!"
The Doctor grabbed Rose's hand. "Come on!"
"One last thing." Rosita swung back her hand and landed a solid punch on Ms. Hartigan's pale cheek that knocked her to the ground.
The Doctor looked scandalized. "Can I say that I completely disapprove-now come on!"
Lee parked his car in a driveway in Chiswick and stared. Donna's house, the house she grew up in, looked exactly like their house in the library, right down to the color of the curtains he could see through the window. Donna pulled the car door open and stepped out onto the asphalt.
"Well, are you coming?" she asked. He gave her his best smile (it was a bit shaky, but they were here, meeting her family) and followed her. It was a tidy place, at least on the outside. Well-tended flowerbeds lined the driveway and the grass was neatly mowed. When the reached the door he raised a hand to knock but Donna produced a key from her pocket and slid it home. "It's my house, you plum," she said fondly. "Don't need to knock. I called ahead to let them know that we're coming, anyway." The door swung open with a faint creaking sound and then he was standing in a hallway. Donna was halfway down it already, poking her head into the doors that lined either side. "Hello!" she called. "Mum, Gramps? I'm home!"
"There's my girl!" And elderly gentleman stepped out of one of the doors and hugged Donna tightly. "Welcome back, sweetheart."
Donna grinned and hugged him back just as hard. "Thanks, Gramps." She released him and turned to face Lee. "There's someone I'd like you to meet."
"Is this your mystery friend?" her grandfather asked with a chuckle. "You were so secretive on the phone."
"Sort of." Donna held out her hand and Lee took it. "This is Lee. He's my husband."
Her grandfather blinked. "Blimey, Donna, that was fast!" He held out his hand. "I'm Wilf, nice to meet you."
Lee took it. "L-lee McAvoy," he said. "It's n-nice to meet you t-t-too. Donna's told me all about you."
"Come into the kitchen, you too," Wilf urged. "Sylvia's putting on the kettle; we'll have a proper sit down and a cuppa."
Donna was still holding his hand, and Lee let her lead him onward. The kitchen was airy and spacious-and just as familiar as the house's exterior. Donna paused when she entered and he knew that she had finally noticed. He had eaten dinner at this table every day for five years. He'd read the newspaper and watched their children play with playdough on the kitchen floor. A wave of unexpected emotion washed over him and his hold on Donna's hand tightened. After a beat she squeezed back.
"Well here's madame," Donna's mum said. She was standing at the stove with her back to the door, removing a steaming kettle. "We were worried sick, weren't we, dad," Sylvia continued. "and we couldn't even phone you."
"Well it's not my fault the murderous aliens pulled the Earth out of sync with the rest of the universe, is it?" Donna shot back, exasperated. "Makes it a bit difficult to get a mobile connection when you can't even find the Earth." Her mother was brash, abrasive, fierce, and stubborn-just like she was. They'd never got on well, not as long as Donna could remember, but at least her father had been there to smooth things over. Now there was only granddad and her mum brushed him right off. Lee squeezed her hand again and she gave him a grateful smile. "Mum," Donna tried again, "This is my husband Lee."
Sylvia froze. "Husband?" she demanded. "Is this what you've been hiding all along?"
"No!" Donna denied and rubbed her temple with her free hand. She could feel a migraine brewing. "Look, let's sit down and have tea and we'll tell you all about it, yeah?
The story wasn't incredibly long, but it was complex and Donna found herself stopping frequently, occasionally to get confirmation or correction from Lee but most often to answer her family's questions. Sylvia had known that her daughter was different in the same way that Donna had known about the rest of the world before she'd met the Doctor: as a sort of vague awareness. She could play off the ATMOS incident as a case of guilty-by-association; it wasn't Donna who was at the heart of the matter, it was that Doctor and that Rose girl. She could do the same with the planets in the sky, but this couldn't be explained away or dismissed. Her daughter lived with an alien \ and his (human?) lover in a space ship that also traveled in time. She'd been to other planets all across the universe, been all the way to the moment the Earth spun itself out of rubble and space-dust, and she was married.
Wilf stood, walked over to where Lee sat next to Donna, and hugged him. "D'you like telescopes?" he asked.
Lee blinked. "Y-yes sir."
"I've got a real beauty out on the hill." Wilf cast a knowing look in Sylvia's direction.
Lee caught the hint. "I'd love to see it."
Donna pressed a kiss to his cheek as he left and the tips of his ears turned a lovely shade of pink. She laughed, but it died quickly as he disappeared out the door with Wilf. Sylvia took a long sip of her tea.
"Nothing to say?" Donna asked wryly. "That's a first."
"When are you coming home?" The fire was gone from her mother's voice. She sounded tired and worn down.
Donna blinked. It wasn't the question she was expecting. "I dunno."
Sylvia stared into the bottom of her mug as if the answers to her questions were contained within. "You've changed so much, seen so much. I don't even know you anymore, my own daughter. How much more are you going to change, Donna?"
"I'm better now," she protested. "I didn't know about anything outside of Chiswik before-it was like the rest of the world didn't exist. He made me better, mum; that's what the Doctor does. Martha traveled with him and she works with UNIT now, defending the Earth. Rose worked in a shop and now she saves the universe. Mum, I was a temp and now I see things no other human being has, now I get a chance to be someone important."
"You were always important," Sylvia snapped back. "You're my daughter. But you hid all of this, Donna. Why couldn't you just tell me?"
"You wouldn't have believed me, Mum." Donna looked away. "I wanted to, I did-but granddad already knew about aliens, he already believed in them. He'd even met the Doctor. You hadn't, and I knew you'd think I'd gone mad."
They were quiet for a long moment. "So," Sylvia finally said. "Lee. He seems like a decent man." Left unspoken was the memory that Lance had too, at first.
Donna heard it anyway. "Yeah. He really is."
"How does he fit into this life you've got?"
Donna took a deep breath. "We're taking it slow. I don't want to stop traveling yet; there's so much to see out there, so many places to go. And I'm not quite the person he fell in love with in the library-she made me forget all about the Doctor, about everything I've seen and he forgot about his family and almost his whole life outside of the computer. And then he ended up in Cardiff and I went back to traveling-there's a lot we need to catch up on. But you should have seen it, Mum. We had a whole life in there." Awe crept into her voice. "We had a house, this house actually, and we had kids. Me, a mum." She sniffed discreetly and hoped her mother didn't notice. "A boy and a girl. We named them Miriam and Geoff, after dad and gran. And it felt real, Mum. I've got all these memories-I had PTA meetings! I was dieting! Miriam would make up these little nonsense songs about absolutely everything and Geoff wouldn't eat anything green because cows eat green things and if he eats them too there won't be enough for the cows, and, and Lee was fantastic with the children. He was so patient, even when I wasn't, and I thought I made it up, all of it." Donna shrugged. "But I didn't. I can't promise that I'm going to stop traveling tomorrow-but I miss that life. I do. And someday I want it back."
Features: The 10th Doctor, Rose Tyler, Martha Jones, Donna Noble, Astrid Peth, the 5th Doctor, the Brigadier, UNIT, Gwen Cooper, Ianto Jones, Rhys Williams, Mickey Smith, Sarah Jane Smith, River Song, Jenny, Lee MacAvoy and others.
Pairings: Doctor/Rose, Jack/Ianto, Martha/Mickey
A/N: Nothing you recognize belongs to me! Original dialogue from 'The Next Doctor' used where appropriate.
(Earlier Entries) ( Chapter Fifty-Seven ) ( Chapter 58 ) (Chapter Fifty-Nine) ( Chapter Sixty)
Martha Jones materialized just outside Cardiff proper. She'd gone home and seen her family, but there was only so much of her mother's questioning and her father's concern that she could stand in one night. Moving to Manhattan had been one of the best things she'd ever done for herself; Martha loved her family but years of being the peace-keeper had worn grooves in her reactions and making new pathways was easiest if she couldn't come running when they called. The end of the world was definitely a reason to go home for a bit, but Jack needed help and everyone was alright: Tish was with her boyfriend (they'd been on a street the Daleks had ignored) and Leo, Shonara, and Keisha had all been over for a visit when it had happened. They'd locked themselves in the basement and they were fine. UNIT was giving her a leave of absence, what with the way she helped save the world and all. So it was back to Cardiff and the Hub, which was where she'd been aiming the teleport, originally, but there was something about the structure that made teleportation in and around it impossible. The Doctor said it had something to do with the metals Torchwood had used during the Hub's construction, but then he went on a bit of a ramble and Martha did what she always did-she tuned him out. If there was one thing that Martha Jones had learned during her time on the TARDIS it was that the Doctor could talk for hours on subjects that she knew nothing about, and that if she let him she would wind up more confused than she was at the beginning.
She walked down the street with Project Indigo still strapped to her back. Signs of last night's chaos and celebration were everywhere. Windows were smashed, broken glass and other detritus littered the ground. Cars were dented and broken and the remains of hastily-set fires were scattered through the city-but daily life continued. There were people beginning to emerge from buildings with brooms and garbage bags and a determined set to their face. Stores were opening and a café across from the Hub on Millennium Plaza looked to be doing brisk business. If she lived to be as old as the Doctor Martha would never cease to be amazed by mankind's ability to adapt and persevere in the strangest and most traumatic circumstances.
The aroma of freshly brewed coffee drifted past her on the cool morning breeze and she joined the other people waiting in line at the café. Her time at Royal Hope Hospital left her with an appreciation for coffee that working for UNIT encouraged. It was a nice change of pace from tea. It was a bit unbritish of her, but she'd never been fond of the beverage. She ordered, paid, and obediently made her way to the pick-up station. The Osterhagen key dug into her thigh as she twisted to avoid another patron. The blasted thing wasn't designed to be shoved into a pocket, no, it was designed to destroy the planet. Martha meant what she told the Doctor: she will make sure the key is decommissioned. It seemed heavier in her pocket than she remembered, and the knowledge of what she had almost done, what she had been prepared to do, if necessary, would keep her awake at nights. No one should be able to make that choice.
A familiar voice drew her away from dark thoughts. Mickey Smith was standing at the counter. She smiled and waved and he joined her at the other end of the café.
"Didn't you go to London?" he asked by way of greeting.
"I did." The barista called her name and Martha took her coffee eagerly. "And now I'm back."
The barista brought Mickey's order over and he fell in step next to Martha as she navigated through the press of people. "I grew up in London," he said after the door closed behind them. "Me an' Rose, on the Powell Estate."
"That's in south London, yeah?" Martha let the cup warm her cold hands.
"Yeah."
"What was it like?" she asked, mostly to make small talk, but partly because she was curious. Her home life was never easy; her parents' had been fighting for as long as she could remember and they'd divorced when she was young-but she'd never wanted for anything. They'd both had good jobs and her father in particular tried to make up for missed dance recitals and birthdays and parent-teacher conferences with presents. The housing estates might as well have been another planet, for all the experience she'd had with them.
Mickey took a long drink. "It was hard sometimes," he admitted. "Dad left when I was little, mum couldn't handle everything alone. My gran ended up raising me. She was on benefits 'cause she was blind, so we didn't have a lot, but we got by."
"Sounds rough."
"Could be," he agreed. "What about you? How'd you wind up involved with this lot?"
"I was studying to be a doctor at Royal Hope Hospital when it ended up on the moon." She took a drink. "It's not exactly the sort of thing you forget. And the Doctor was there. He had this rubbish plan to unmask this plasmavore that was hiding there by letting her drink his blood and assimilate his alienness so the Judoon-basically space-rhino cops-would find her and return the hospital."
Mickey whistled. "Judoon, huh. Nasty bunch, them."
"You're telling me," Martha agreed. "They didn't even care that she'd rigged the MRI to explode! It would have killed half the people on the planet! They just killed the plasmavore and left; the Doctor had to fix the MRI. And it took them bloody ages to get the hospital back where it belonged. We were lucky-no one died. Any longer and people would have started suffocating. After that-" She shrugged. "I saved his life, he offered to take me on a trip as thanks. One trip led to one trip backwards and one trip forwards in time, and eventually I just signed on."
Mickey was quiet for a moment. "Still traveling with him, then?"
Martha laughed. "God, no. I mean-I wouldn't have traded it for anything, but it was never permanent. And I don't need to travel with him to be the best. I'm already the best, all by myself."
"Yeah." He nodded. "Sometimes you have to get out so you can be your own person, without people around who expect you to be who you used to be."
Jack was waiting for them when they returned to the Hub. Donna and Lee were nowhere to be seen, but Ianto was fiddling with something on one of the computer terminals.
"Hello gorgeous," Jack said with a wink.
"Oi," Mickey objected, "are you talkin' to her or me?"
"Are you really going to make me choose?" the other man asked with a pout. Mickey rolled his eyes but Martha laughed and hugged Jack. "How's everyone?"
"They're good," she replied. "Mum sends her best, and that you're welcome to visit."
"Next time aliens invade London I'll be there," Jack promised dryly. "Now!" He rubbed his hands together. "Let's get down to business. As I was telling Mickey last night, we seem to be short a few people." He gestured at the Hub around them. "And I really can't think of two more qualified individuals for the jobs."
"I already have a job," Martha reminded him.
Jack grinned. "I know. But look at this face. Can you really say no to this beautiful face?"
"No," Mickey said and Martha couldn't keep from smiling as Jack slapped a hand over his heart and did his best to look wounded. "Like I said, been working for Torchwood for more than five years. I thought I'd take a vacation, maybe freelance for a bit."
Jack turned back to Martha and she shook her head. "We'll see, mister."
"That's better than a 'no,' so I can live with that." He picked a steaming mug off the computer terminal and took a long drink. "Now let's get down to business. Mr. Mickey here needs a new identity, seeing as how he's been declared dead."
The Doctor was out the door like a shot. If the Cybermen were active than their plan was coming to a head and if that was the case than he and Rose were out of time. It wasn't supposed to happen like this; they were supposed to go back to 1850 and have a nice, relaxing day. No running, no danger, and certainly no metal men bent on world domination. What was that saying Doris had been fond of-oh yes: men plan, God laughs. Not that he believed in a mythical higher being, but 'men plan, the universe laughs' didn't have the same ring.
Back inside the stables Rose moved to follow the Doctor but Jackson caught her arm. "Wait," he said. "In this story-who are you?"
She quirked an eyebrow. "I'm Rose, like I said. Rose Tyler."
"Yes," Jackson agreed. "But the infostamp contained information on the Doctor's companions. I have no memory of anyone named 'Rose Tyler.' So I ask again, Madame, who are you? Earlier you claimed to be his wife-is that true? Is anything you've told me true?"
"You're looking in the wrong book, mate." Her voice was soft, but there was steel in it. "I was a companion, once, a long time ago. You want to know my story, look under 'Bad Wolf.' Now I've got to go. He's useless on his own." She pulled her arm out of Jackson's grasp and ran after the Doctor.
Jackson remained as if frozen where he stood. His eyes were distant, focused on something that only he could see. Rosita took a hesitant step forward and her proximity seemed to snap him out of his reverie.
"Sir?" she inquired hesitantly.
"Go with them." His voice was rough and his shoulders sagged.
She crossed her arms over her chest. "I'd really rather not, Doctor."
"Jackson," he corrected her. "My name is Jackson Lake. I am not the Doctor."
"Jackson." It felt strange to her, calling him anything other than 'Doctor,' but he wasn't the Doctor, apparently. "I think I should stay with you, sir."
He shook his head. "They are strangers, Rosita. For all of his cleverness, the Doctor is not familiar with our London. They will need your help."
Still, she hesitated. "Sir…"
"Go!" he snapped.
She went.
They didn't get far; they didn't have to. The streets were clogged by a parade of poorly dressed children shepherded along by a distinguished looking man sporting shoulder-length greay hair, something shiny peeking out from his ears. Goosebumps raced down Rose's spine. She recognized the sleek design and flashing blue lights that adorned the devices. It was Lumic's work, all right. Whoever he was, the Cybermen were thinking for him now. A crowd of people had gathered to watch the strange spectacle and Rose and the Doctor pushed through them.
"That's Mr. Cole!" Rosita cried. "He runs the Hazel Street Workhouse."
"Not anymore," the Doctor replied grimly.
Rosita balked. "How do you mean?"
The Doctor remained silent. As Mr. Cole drew abreast of them he reached into his jacket for the sonic screwdriver-and a low, rumbling growl drifted out of the shadows. Something moved in the darkness and lamplight glinted off the copper masks of the strange, animalistic cybershades. They were everywhere. The Doctor let his hand fall. He wouldn't risk a confrontation, not with the children all around. It would be all too easy for one (or more) of them to get hurt.
"They deserve a good whipping," a familiar voice grumbled from behind them. "Lookit 'em all, clogging up the roads. There's another lot from Ingleby Workhouse down Broadback lane too." Jed ambled up, hands in his pockets and a sour frown on his face. "It'll be ages 'for this lot clears off."
Rose frowned. "The Cybermen are controlling workhouse masters," she began, "but why? What could they need that many kids for?"
"They're not just children." The Doctor's face was tight, his eyes hard and bright as he watched the long procession. His whole body was taut as a bowstring. "They're orphaned children-wards of the Church and later the State. They were the first factory workers in the early stages of the Industrial Revolution. No such thing as a childhood for an orphan; they're put to work immediately and that's what they are: a workforce."
"For what?" Rosita's voice was hushed and incredulous.
"No idea," the Doctor replied. "But it's time to find out."
They followed the children down more allies and back roads. Rose prized her sense of direction but the twisting nature of the streets soon had her baffled. Tenements loomed over them on either side and it was like walking at the bottom of a great chasm: claustrophobic. She itched to be out in the open again. Her Torchwood training had her on edge: they were in ambush territory and she wasn't sure how well her psychokinetic wavelength disruptor would work against the shades-one had to have a mind to be affected, after all.
Along the way other groups of raggedy children joined them, until there was a veritable army of orphans marching through two tall metal doors guarded by Cybermen. The Doctor turned to Rosita and gestured at the scene. "Those doors, where do they go?"
"The sluice," she replied. "All the sewage runs through there, straight to the Thames."
"Brilliant," Rose muttered. "Another sewer." The Doctor flashed her a grin and she rolled her eyes at him. "Seriously, though-top secret base under the Thames?"
"Not as uncommon as you'd think," he responded lightly as he scanned the area for any available back entrance; the front was too crowded and too exposed, no way they'd get past the Cybermen without a fight. "When I first met Donna we ended up in a secret Torchwood base beneath the Thames." He shoved his hands in his pockets and turned away. "We're not getting through there; time to find another way in." They withdrew from the piles of crates where they had been crouched, observing-but there were complications. Two Cybermen were waiting for them as they crept into a side street.
"Oi!" the Doctor exclaimed. "That's cheating. What'd you do, put your legs on silent?" He positioned himself subtly in front of Rose and Rosita, one hand resting on the sonic screwdriver. Rose was poised to run but her psychokinetic wavelength disruptor was solid in her hand, shielded behind the Doctor's back. It would work on Cybermen; the only human bit they had left was a brain.
The Cybermen did not respond. They stood, straight and stiff and silent, blocking the way but not advancing. The Doctor frowned and tilted his head to the side. Something didn't fit. They should be advancing, demanding conversion or death. They should be firing those deadly energy beams.
A woman stepped out of the shadows. She was tall and pale, with long brown hair pulled tightly back from her severely beautiful face in what Rose assumed to be a fashionable style. Her back was bayonette straight and the vibrant red of her dress leant no warmth to her. She surveyed the three in front of her with a clear, deliberate gaze.
"My, my, my," she murmured. "What have we here?"
"Step toward me," the Doctor directed and Rose wondered if he even really saw the woman; his eyes remained fixed on the Cybermen who flanked her. "Don't look behind you, just-come away."
The woman smiled and it was like sunlight reflected off of ice on a winter morning. "Oh, they won't hurt me, not my lovely boys. They're my knights in shining armor-literally."
"That's not a cyberspeech pattern." He was still trying. One of the many things Rose loved about the Doctor was his absolute refusal to give up: on life, on the universe, on a single person. He was the eternal optimist which worked to his advantage, sometimes-and sometimes it broke his heart. "Even if they've started the conversion," he continued, "you've still got free will. I can help you."
Rose put her hand on his arm and he glanced back at her, eyes wide and intent. "I don't think they needed to convert her," Rose pointed out gently.
The woman chuckled and Rose thought of glaciers cracking at the poles. "Quite right," she agreed. "There was not and will not be any conversion."
"Who are you then?" Rose demanded. "Why are you working with the Cybermen?" Before she traveled with the Doctor, before she met Jimmy Stone and she was still in school, Rose had never been able to understand why some people just stepped back and let others commit atrocities. She never understood the idea of the silent majority, and how far people were willing to go in order to preserve their power or to gain more. But she understood now, after she'd seen it all across the galaxy. Some things never changed, and one of them was that people would get into bed with the devil himself if they thought they could get something out of it.
"I'm the woman in charge. The Cybermen offered me the one thing I wanted-liberation." She raised one sculpted eyebrow and managed to convey a world of scorn. "And who might you be?"
"I'm the Doctor," he replied. "And this is Rose Tyler." Rose gave the woman a sarcastic salute.
"And I'm Rosita," the other woman added, "if anyone's interested."
"You can be quiet," the woman in charge snarled. "I doubt they paid you to talk."
Rosita paled abruptly and looked away. Hot anger surged through Rose's veins. "She's not a prostitute you great bully," she snapped back. "And even if she was, doesn't give you the right to talk to her like that!"
The woman in red ignored her and focused her attention instead on the Doctor. "Who are you, then, with such knowledge of my companions?"
"He rocked back on his heels, his hands shoved into his trouser pockets. "I told you, I'm the Doctor."
"That is not a name," she pressed. "Doctor who?"
"Just the Doctor."
"Negative," one of the Cybermen objected. "You do not match the description of the enemy designated 'the Doctor.'"
"Oh, I know," he agreed. "But your database is corrupted; must have happened in the Void." He pulled his hand out of his pocket and tossed the damaged infostamp to the Cyberman who had spoken. "There you go. Download that and then we'll talk."
The Cyberman examined it. "The core has been damaged. This infostamp would damage cyberunits."
The Doctor scratched the back of his neck and shot an apologetic look in Rose's direction. "Worth a shot."
The Cyberman inserted the infostamp into a port on one arm. The light on the end began to flash erratically, slowed for a moment, and then fell back into a steady rhythm. "Core repaired," it droned. "Downloading. Download complete. Identity confirmed; you are the Doctor."
He flashed a fierce grin at them. "The one and only."
"How nice." The woman's voice fairly dripped with insincerity. "Now kill them."
"Wait, wait, wait." The Doctor held up his hands. "Just-let me die happy. What do you need the children for?"
She laughed. "What are children always for? They are a workforce."
He nodded. "Yes, but for what?"
"Soon the whole empire will see, and they will bow down in worship." She smiled again, a small, savage baring of teeth.
"And that was your plan then, Miss…?"
"Hartigan," the woman supplied. It was the first real bit of information she'd given them. "Yes, it was. Now, we're on a bit of a schedule. It was an honor to be the subject of your last conversation, Doctor."
The Cybermen advanced, arms raised to fire. "Delete," they droned. "Delete." Rose brought the psychokinetic wavelength disrupt up and removed the safety. The Doctor thrust the sonic screwdriver in front of him-and a wave of crackling energy swept over the Cybermen not from Rose or the Doctor, but from behind Ms. Hartigan. Jackson Lake strode out of the shadows with a damaged infostamp smoking in his hand and a belt of them wrapped around his chest. The Cybermen fell to the ground with a great crash.
"At your service, Doctor," he called. "Ms. Tyler, Rosita, are you well?"
Ms. Hartigan stumbled back. There was no fear in her expression, only fury. "Shades!" she yelled. "Shades!"
The Doctor grabbed Rose's hand. "Come on!"
"One last thing." Rosita swung back her hand and landed a solid punch on Ms. Hartigan's pale cheek that knocked her to the ground.
The Doctor looked scandalized. "Can I say that I completely disapprove-now come on!"
Lee parked his car in a driveway in Chiswick and stared. Donna's house, the house she grew up in, looked exactly like their house in the library, right down to the color of the curtains he could see through the window. Donna pulled the car door open and stepped out onto the asphalt.
"Well, are you coming?" she asked. He gave her his best smile (it was a bit shaky, but they were here, meeting her family) and followed her. It was a tidy place, at least on the outside. Well-tended flowerbeds lined the driveway and the grass was neatly mowed. When the reached the door he raised a hand to knock but Donna produced a key from her pocket and slid it home. "It's my house, you plum," she said fondly. "Don't need to knock. I called ahead to let them know that we're coming, anyway." The door swung open with a faint creaking sound and then he was standing in a hallway. Donna was halfway down it already, poking her head into the doors that lined either side. "Hello!" she called. "Mum, Gramps? I'm home!"
"There's my girl!" And elderly gentleman stepped out of one of the doors and hugged Donna tightly. "Welcome back, sweetheart."
Donna grinned and hugged him back just as hard. "Thanks, Gramps." She released him and turned to face Lee. "There's someone I'd like you to meet."
"Is this your mystery friend?" her grandfather asked with a chuckle. "You were so secretive on the phone."
"Sort of." Donna held out her hand and Lee took it. "This is Lee. He's my husband."
Her grandfather blinked. "Blimey, Donna, that was fast!" He held out his hand. "I'm Wilf, nice to meet you."
Lee took it. "L-lee McAvoy," he said. "It's n-nice to meet you t-t-too. Donna's told me all about you."
"Come into the kitchen, you too," Wilf urged. "Sylvia's putting on the kettle; we'll have a proper sit down and a cuppa."
Donna was still holding his hand, and Lee let her lead him onward. The kitchen was airy and spacious-and just as familiar as the house's exterior. Donna paused when she entered and he knew that she had finally noticed. He had eaten dinner at this table every day for five years. He'd read the newspaper and watched their children play with playdough on the kitchen floor. A wave of unexpected emotion washed over him and his hold on Donna's hand tightened. After a beat she squeezed back.
"Well here's madame," Donna's mum said. She was standing at the stove with her back to the door, removing a steaming kettle. "We were worried sick, weren't we, dad," Sylvia continued. "and we couldn't even phone you."
"Well it's not my fault the murderous aliens pulled the Earth out of sync with the rest of the universe, is it?" Donna shot back, exasperated. "Makes it a bit difficult to get a mobile connection when you can't even find the Earth." Her mother was brash, abrasive, fierce, and stubborn-just like she was. They'd never got on well, not as long as Donna could remember, but at least her father had been there to smooth things over. Now there was only granddad and her mum brushed him right off. Lee squeezed her hand again and she gave him a grateful smile. "Mum," Donna tried again, "This is my husband Lee."
Sylvia froze. "Husband?" she demanded. "Is this what you've been hiding all along?"
"No!" Donna denied and rubbed her temple with her free hand. She could feel a migraine brewing. "Look, let's sit down and have tea and we'll tell you all about it, yeah?
The story wasn't incredibly long, but it was complex and Donna found herself stopping frequently, occasionally to get confirmation or correction from Lee but most often to answer her family's questions. Sylvia had known that her daughter was different in the same way that Donna had known about the rest of the world before she'd met the Doctor: as a sort of vague awareness. She could play off the ATMOS incident as a case of guilty-by-association; it wasn't Donna who was at the heart of the matter, it was that Doctor and that Rose girl. She could do the same with the planets in the sky, but this couldn't be explained away or dismissed. Her daughter lived with an alien \ and his (human?) lover in a space ship that also traveled in time. She'd been to other planets all across the universe, been all the way to the moment the Earth spun itself out of rubble and space-dust, and she was married.
Wilf stood, walked over to where Lee sat next to Donna, and hugged him. "D'you like telescopes?" he asked.
Lee blinked. "Y-yes sir."
"I've got a real beauty out on the hill." Wilf cast a knowing look in Sylvia's direction.
Lee caught the hint. "I'd love to see it."
Donna pressed a kiss to his cheek as he left and the tips of his ears turned a lovely shade of pink. She laughed, but it died quickly as he disappeared out the door with Wilf. Sylvia took a long sip of her tea.
"Nothing to say?" Donna asked wryly. "That's a first."
"When are you coming home?" The fire was gone from her mother's voice. She sounded tired and worn down.
Donna blinked. It wasn't the question she was expecting. "I dunno."
Sylvia stared into the bottom of her mug as if the answers to her questions were contained within. "You've changed so much, seen so much. I don't even know you anymore, my own daughter. How much more are you going to change, Donna?"
"I'm better now," she protested. "I didn't know about anything outside of Chiswik before-it was like the rest of the world didn't exist. He made me better, mum; that's what the Doctor does. Martha traveled with him and she works with UNIT now, defending the Earth. Rose worked in a shop and now she saves the universe. Mum, I was a temp and now I see things no other human being has, now I get a chance to be someone important."
"You were always important," Sylvia snapped back. "You're my daughter. But you hid all of this, Donna. Why couldn't you just tell me?"
"You wouldn't have believed me, Mum." Donna looked away. "I wanted to, I did-but granddad already knew about aliens, he already believed in them. He'd even met the Doctor. You hadn't, and I knew you'd think I'd gone mad."
They were quiet for a long moment. "So," Sylvia finally said. "Lee. He seems like a decent man." Left unspoken was the memory that Lance had too, at first.
Donna heard it anyway. "Yeah. He really is."
"How does he fit into this life you've got?"
Donna took a deep breath. "We're taking it slow. I don't want to stop traveling yet; there's so much to see out there, so many places to go. And I'm not quite the person he fell in love with in the library-she made me forget all about the Doctor, about everything I've seen and he forgot about his family and almost his whole life outside of the computer. And then he ended up in Cardiff and I went back to traveling-there's a lot we need to catch up on. But you should have seen it, Mum. We had a whole life in there." Awe crept into her voice. "We had a house, this house actually, and we had kids. Me, a mum." She sniffed discreetly and hoped her mother didn't notice. "A boy and a girl. We named them Miriam and Geoff, after dad and gran. And it felt real, Mum. I've got all these memories-I had PTA meetings! I was dieting! Miriam would make up these little nonsense songs about absolutely everything and Geoff wouldn't eat anything green because cows eat green things and if he eats them too there won't be enough for the cows, and, and Lee was fantastic with the children. He was so patient, even when I wasn't, and I thought I made it up, all of it." Donna shrugged. "But I didn't. I can't promise that I'm going to stop traveling tomorrow-but I miss that life. I do. And someday I want it back."