The Morning After - Chapter Five
Title: The Morning After - Chapter Five
Fandom: Doctor Who / Being Human (Crossover)
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/George
Rating: This Chapter - PG-13 for adult situations
Spoilers: Doctor Who - Tooth and Claw / Being Human - first two episodes of series one
Disclaimer: Doctor Who and Being Human belong to the BBC, and not me. But I'll put them back in the toybox when I've finished.
Warning: Angst and heavily implied sexual suggestion with more than a hint of darkness…
Author's Note: Thanks to adafrog for coming to my rescue this chapter, and for knowing far more about molecular biology than I do ;)
"The animal inside you is taking over. Increased hunger. Aggression, the need to hunt. A predatory craving for blood… for sex. A heightened libido. It's always been that way for werewolves."
Chapter Five
The Doctor sat on the grilled floor of the TARDIS, drinking the last of the lukewarm tea from the blue plastic cup. He sucked on the edge of the cup thoughtfully, wondering if this was the same spot where George's mouth had been when he drank out of it.
He glanced at the console. Judging by the time of year, it would still be fairly light outside, but it was mid to late-evening and the sun would be low in the sky. An hour or two before the moonrise.
Full moon tonight. He'd seen a lot of full moons these past few days. Bad Moon Rising. He'd always liked that song. Bet he had the CD somewhere…
There was a thump, coming from the outside. Two thumps, in quick succession. An awkward-sounding sort of double-thump.
The Doctor put down the empty Thermos flask and stood, dusting off the back of his trousers. He still felt a little stiff from his tussle with the wolf-side of George two nights ago, but there were no marks on his skin. Time Lords heal quickly and don't scar.
He stood with his hands in his pockets, chewing on his bottom lip contemplatively.
Thump, thump, thump.
He crossed the console room and down the ramp to the external doors. After a second's hesitation he opened them.
George Sands stood on the grass outside, fidgeting. He didn't smile, but he didn't look angry, either. "Can I come in, please?" he asked.
The Doctor nodded, and stood aside to grant him access.
George walked halfway up the ramp and then turned around, facing the Doctor. He pushed his glasses further up his nose. Then he put his hands in his pockets, and after a moment took them out again and folded his arms awkwardly across his chest instead.
"I wanted to make sure you were alright," George said cautiously.
The Doctor looked surprised. "That I'm alright?"
George nodded. He looked awkward. "When I last saw you, a month ago... I think I might have... well, I know I started transforming. And I may have lashed out at you. I can't remember much... I'm always a bit out of it when I'm so close."
The Doctor nodded. "Higher brain functions start to decline. That's understandable. I should imagine there's a significantly high influx of neuro-chemicals flooding the trans-occipital sulcus… a marked change in synaptic impulses, probably triggered by..."
"Do you have to make everything sound like science class at school?" George snapped. The Doctor blinked in surprise.
George sighed and then wandered off, round the console. He unconsciously traced a finger across the edge as he went past.
"May I sit down?" he muttered, looking at a tatty old seat on the other side of the console. The Doctor nodded wordlessly.
George crossed over to the flight seat and sat down, a little stiffly. "I was trying to apologise. I came back… here. To this part of the woods, I mean, the morning after last month's transformation. But you'd gone."
The Doctor nodded. "Yes. Well… I didn't move from the spot. I just slipped forwards in time."
George shrugged. "I came back every day, for a few days. But you didn't come back. Then I thought… you might be here the next month, so I waited. And… here you are."
The Doctor nodded again. He hesitated. "I… probably shouldn't be here. I'm sorry… for what I did. You remember, don't you?"
George squeezed his eyes closed. "That night… the night before we met. I transformed. But then… I picked up a scent. Of you. And all I can remember after that is that my instinct was… to attack."
The Doctor nodded. "It was my own fault. I picked up your life sign on my little scanner thingy, and… well. I told you, I've met a lycanthrope before. I had to make sure history wasn't trying to repeat itself."
George nodded. "You were coming to stop me. To kill me?"
The Doctor looked horrified. "No! I just wanted to find out what you were. And if it turned out that you were dangerous, I would have… crossed that bridge when I came to it."
"But why? Who are you? Some sort of… intergalactic policeman?" George gritted his teeth frustratedly. "You never tell me anything!"
"I'm a traveller," said the Doctor simply. "That's all I am. And sometimes… I come across people who need my help. And I help them. Because I want to. It's what I do. So when I picked up a life sign that had strands of wolf in its DNA, I knew I had to investigate. But you're different. Your condition was caused by an infection. Maybe it stems back from that other lupine. You're not related to royalty, are you?"
George shook his head, bemused.
"It's strange that you were scratched in Scotland… I was in Scotland too, when I first encountered the other wolf. Maybe all of this started there, 130 years ago. Perhaps I was too late," the Doctor mused. He took a few steps forward until he was closer to the George, but didn't join him on the seat.
George looked up. "It was Tully," he said softly. "He's the only other Lyco I've ever met. I thought he was the only one who could understand me. He tried to teach me how to live with my… condition. I trusted him. Hell, I picked him over Mitchell and Annie, my real friends. And then it turns out that he was the wolf who scratched me in the first place. He made me into this!" George dug his elbows into his knees and covered his face with his hands.
The Doctor looked at George sympathetically. "One lupine infects another, and so it goes on. You were lucky."
"Lucky?" George spluttered.
"Tully could have killed you. You could have just been a trophy, or food. Or… well. But you lived. You got a second chance. I'd call that lucky, wouldn't you?"
"Depends on how you look at it," George said softly. He looked up at the Doctor suddenly. "That's another reason I came back to see you tonight. I… remembered something else."
The Doctor nodded, looking serious.
"That night… the first night you saw me as a wolf. I scratched you. I've been thinking about it ever since. Worrying. Do you know what that could mean?"
The Doctor nodded. "It's alright. I'm not human, remember? My immune system is a different to yours. It's stronger and far more effective. I don't get infections. Not as much as a cold."
George looked relieved. Then he looked at the Doctor quizzically. "I didn't scratch you because I was trying to kill you. I know that."
The Doctor looked a little awkward, now.
"It was a different sort of hunger I was feeling that night," said George. The Doctor nodded.
George squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, as though ashamed. "And you wanted me to… use you. Didn't you?"
The Doctor looked away.
"That scent I picked up of you. It was... sexual. The smell of…" George blushed.
And so did the Doctor. "I know." He took a deep breath. "I don't know came over me. I saw you transforming and…" he swallowed. George saw the Doctor clench his hands into fists. "I don't normally do that… Time Lords don't…"
"You saw me transform and…" George scratched his neck, looking a little awkward. "You have a thing for werewolves." He raised his eyebrows at the inflection of the word 'thing'.
The Doctor cleared his throat. "I suppose you could put it like that…"
George snorted. "As far as kinks go, it's a fairly specialised one, I'll give you that."
The Doctor looked embarrassed. "I'm sorry. You must feel…violated. No wonder you were angry at me." He ran a hand through his hair, not knowing what else to say.
George shrugged. "I… don't know how I feel about it, to be honest." He shook his head. "All I really want to know is... did some good come out of this? Did you find out what makes me what I am? Can you help me, or not?"
The Doctor stepped over a little closer to him. He paused, as though rehearsing what he was going to say.
"I've studied the results of the tests I did on you, George. When you're scratched or bitten by a werewolf, it passes some kind of virus into the blood. The infection that Tully gave you… it mutated your genome."
The Doctor reached over to the console and pulled on a little monitor screen until it was at the right angle for George to look at. He pulled out a little keyboard and rapidly pressed a few keys until the screen filled with data. George stared at the monitor, but the complicated figures and graphics meant nothing to him.
"Wolves have 39 nuclei chromosomal pairs, normal humans have 23. You, George, have got 24. You have an extra lupine strand that the virus created within your DNA. That's what makes you the way you are. It's an intrinsic part of you now. There's nothing I can do about that."
George nodded again. After a moment, tears ran slowly down his face. Stupid to think there could have been any sort of hope that the Doctor could help him.
But then he suddenly had a thought. "This ship, it's a time machine! You could take me back in time! Back to when I was in Scotland two years ago… you could rescue me. You could save me, Doctor! Stop Tully before he attacked me..." He sounded like he was pleading.
But the Doctor was already shaking his head. "I can't. I can't interfere with past events, George. They've already happened, they're time-locked, and to mess with that would have catastrophic consequences for the whole planet, if not the universe. I can't change history, George. Not even for you."
He reached out and ran the side of his thumb softly down George's face, wiping away the salty traces of his tears. "I'm so sorry."
George closed his eyes, and more tears flowed. He took off his glasses, and wiped at his face. "It feels like… I've lost everything again. Tully has taken everything from me, Doctor. I had a fiancée. Friends. Family. A life. And I was so scared of hurting them, I left and got as far away from them as I could."
The Doctor gazed at George with great sympathy.
George took a shuddering breath. "They probably think I'm dead, or something. Or that they did something wrong to make me leave. Can you imagine how that makes me feel?"
"Lonely, guilty and wretched? Yes, George. I have a pretty good idea." The Doctor looked so old, just then. Old and tired. "I'm not just a Time Lord, George. I'm the last one there is. My people… my planet is gone. It burned. There was a war… and… I lost everything, too."
"But your friends… you said you had friends. What happened to them?"
The Doctor sat down heavily on the flight seat next to George.
"They've all got someone else, now. And my best friend… I had to make her forget all about me. It was for her own good. I've hurt so many people, George. I've destroyed planets. Whole Empires."
"Why?" asked George bluntly.
The Doctor looked surprised at the question. "To stop pain, and horror, and suffering. To end the plans of those who would have caused even more destruction if I had let them continue."
"So by killing the few, you saved the many?"
The Doctor glanced at George, who smiled. "That was very poetic of me, wasn't it? All I mean is, it seems to me that at the end of the day, you're still the good guy."
The Doctor smiled a little, too. "Well, thank you, George. But it doesn't really make me feel any better."
George stared at the Time Lord for what seemed like a long time. Then he leaned forward and kissed the Doctor on the lips.
It was a shy, awkward kiss, but warm and genuine.
The Doctor sat back when it was over, looking bemused. "What was that for?" He seemed genuinely surprised.
George looked a little shocked at what he'd just done. "Sorry. I… don't do things like that. Normally."
The Doctor looked serious. "I think you'd better go."
George looked awkward. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…"
The Doctor shook his head. "You're close to transformation. I can tell. And… it's probably best if you just go. Now."
George stared at him again. Then he nodded and stood up. "I don't suppose I'll see you again, will I?"
The Doctor didn't meet his eyes. "It was nice to meet you, George."
George licked his lips, and then slowly stood up and made his way around the console and to the ramp leading to the exit doors.
As he reached the ramp, he stopped and turned round.
"Last month… you said you could help me. You said you couldn't cure me, but you could still help me. What did you mean?"
The Doctor stood up and shoved his hands into his pocket, looking almost mutinous. "It doesn't matter."
George blew an exasperated snort of laughter. "Do you know how annoying it is when people do that? It does matter! Tell me what you meant. It's the least you can do, I think."
"I said it in the heat of the moment. It's… not appropriate. It never was."
George closed his eyes a moment and took a deep breath. He was closer to being the wolf. Outside, the sun was setting.
He walked towards the Doctor. The Time Lord stood steadfast, his eyes never wavering from George's.
George ran his tongue gently over the crests of his own teeth. A little sharper already. He looked at the Doctor's lips. He wanted to kiss them again, but he held himself back. He was good at that.
But for how much longer?
George squeezed his eyes closed, willing his animal self back into the shadows of his mind.
The Doctor took his hands out of his pockets. He looked a little tense. "Are you beginning to lose yourself, George?"
George opened his eyes. "A little." He smiled. "Feels good though, when I'm with you..."
The Doctor looked almost sympathetic. "You should go. Go and… do whatever you do to prepare yourself."
"I don't want to go," said George. He walked up to the Doctor. Right up close, and the Doctor tensed a little more, but didn't move.
George dipped his head towards the hollow of the Doctor's throat. "You smell good…" he almost whispered.
The Doctor swallowed. "George… I mean it…"
"How can you help me, Doctor? What did you mean? Tell me…" George's voice was little more than a whisper. He reached out and ran a slightly sharpened fingernail down the Doctor's suit lapel. It made a soft buzzing sound against the rough fabric.
The Doctor suddenly felt beads of sweat stand out on his forehead. "George, you’re… losing control. How do you feel?"
"You know how I feel…" said George. His voice sounded a little stronger. "I want… you. I want anyone. I just want to take what I want!" He gritted his teeth. His hands were clenched into fists.
The Doctor nodded. "The animal inside you is taking over. Increased hunger. Aggression, the need to hunt. A predatory craving for blood… for sex. A heightened libido. It's always been that way for werewolves. Animalistic tendencies…"
"Uncontrollable…" George muttered.
"But you do control it… as best as you can," the Doctor said, softly. "That just proves what a strong character you have… how courageous you are, to fight against yourself every time… it’s more than I could manage, the first time I saw you…"
"And for how much longer?" George ground out through gritted teeth, his eyes filling with tears. "How long can I fight it? How long before I can't resist it anymore and I go out there and… ruin someone's life forever? Or worse?"
The Doctor stared at George. "You could just give in to it. Embrace the wolf…" he almost whispered.
George shook his head. "That's what Tully told me to do. But I can't… I…" he was shaking his head violently. Then he stopped and stared at the Doctor. The Doctor's eyes were blazing.
"Oh God. God, no… you don't mean… I can't…"
The Doctor reached out and squeezed George's shoulder. "Let me show you something… something I did, for you…"
The Doctor took his hand and trembling, George let himself be steered towards the door in the corner which led to the rest of the TARDIS interior.
Just a dozen feet along the roundel-studded corridor there was a door, heavier and sturdier looking than the rest of the doors he'd seen inside the TARDIS. It was plain and thick-looking, and made of a material which, although more or less the same colour as the adjoining walls, looked as though it were made of a different substance to the rest of the ship. It glinted almost like crushed diamonds.
When the Doctor pushed it open, he seemed to struggle slightly, as though it were heavy. Inside was a fairly large room, about as big as the old isolation room George used to transform in at the hospital.
The walls were made of the same substance as the door; they looked thick and coarse. Dotted around the room was a miscellany of old wooden furniture: a bed, some battered cabinets, a wardrobe. It looked like a collection of discarded gear left in an attic and forgotten about. There was a wicker basket in the corner.
George looked at the Doctor uncertainly.
"It's a werewolf-proof room," said the Doctor, a little proudly. "I reconfigured it. It's made of crystalline bio-metal, one of the hardest substances in the galaxy. They used to make prison ships out of it. Well, I say 'used to'… it won't be invented until the 34th century…"
George shook his head, bemused. "And the furniture?"
The Doctor shrugged, looking a little sheepish. "Just… stuff that isn't needed anymore. I mean… you could just… destroy it. To give you something to do."
"Something for me to play with?" George barked out a laugh. "You built a nursery for a werewolf, complete with toys. Brilliant." His voice had a sardonic edge.
The Doctor sighed. "I just thought… it's somewhere for you to transform. Somewhere comfortable… safe… I even put food in the basket, over there. Meat…"
George folded his arms. "This is how you meant you could help me? Giving me somewhere to transform? Like putting a wayward toddler in a playpen?"
The Doctor shook his head. "I didn't mean it to seem… condescending. I planned, originally, for you to transform here. Last month. I was going to take more readings, make sure I knew what was happening to your body…"
"But there's no point. You knew last month there was nothing you could do to make me human again. So what are you suggesting now?"
"That craving in you. I want you to…" the Doctor took a breath. "Use me. Get it out of your system now, and then maybe it won't be so hard to control in the future…"
George backed away. "You can't be serious… do you know what I could do to you? I could kill you!"
"You want me, don't you?" The Doctor stood in front of George. His voice was a hoarse, almost desperate whisper. Oh God, the scent of him… George struggled to hold on to himself. The room swayed.
"I won't fight you, George…" the Doctor's eyes looked almost unfocussed, now. "You can just take me… just let out the wolf…"
"I'll hurt you…" murmured George. He balled his hands into fists, felt how sharp his fingernails were as they stuck into his own palms.
There was a silent beat.
"I know."
George stared at the alien.
He wanted to hurt the not-man… hurt him and take him and taste his blood…
George closed his eyes as the Doctor's mouth pressed against his, so hard he felt his lips mashing against his sharpening teeth. The Doctor's hands grabbed at him. George gasped as the Doctor pushed him backwards onto the discarded bed. The bare mattress was clean but old and hard; springs pressed into the flesh of his back as the Doctor pushed himself desperately against his body. The Doctor was hot to the touch, and very aroused. George felt a bulge of desperate hardness pressing almost painfully against his thigh, and he growled deep in the back of his throat.
The sound only made the Doctor more frantic. The Doctor allowed himself to be rolled over onto his back as George pushed against him. The Doctor was panting, his eyes dark as he looked up at George. He smelled of sex and sacrifice.
"Door's open," the Doctor ground out between gulps of air. "If you don't want this, then leave now. Your choice, George. It was always yours…"
George's face was creased. He was getting closer to the wolfself now. He could feel the adrenalin and the power coursing through his veins. His heart was thumping hard and fast in his chest. His breathing was ragged.
He was still George. And he was capable of distinguishing the difference between right and wrong.
But the animal self of him wanted to partake of this willing victim… and if George was really, truly, honest with himself… so did he.
To be continued
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Six
Fandom: Doctor Who / Being Human (Crossover)
Pairing: Tenth Doctor/George
Rating: This Chapter - PG-13 for adult situations
Spoilers: Doctor Who - Tooth and Claw / Being Human - first two episodes of series one
Disclaimer: Doctor Who and Being Human belong to the BBC, and not me. But I'll put them back in the toybox when I've finished.
Warning: Angst and heavily implied sexual suggestion with more than a hint of darkness…
Author's Note: Thanks to adafrog for coming to my rescue this chapter, and for knowing far more about molecular biology than I do ;)
"The animal inside you is taking over. Increased hunger. Aggression, the need to hunt. A predatory craving for blood… for sex. A heightened libido. It's always been that way for werewolves."
Chapter Five
The Doctor sat on the grilled floor of the TARDIS, drinking the last of the lukewarm tea from the blue plastic cup. He sucked on the edge of the cup thoughtfully, wondering if this was the same spot where George's mouth had been when he drank out of it.
He glanced at the console. Judging by the time of year, it would still be fairly light outside, but it was mid to late-evening and the sun would be low in the sky. An hour or two before the moonrise.
Full moon tonight. He'd seen a lot of full moons these past few days. Bad Moon Rising. He'd always liked that song. Bet he had the CD somewhere…
There was a thump, coming from the outside. Two thumps, in quick succession. An awkward-sounding sort of double-thump.
The Doctor put down the empty Thermos flask and stood, dusting off the back of his trousers. He still felt a little stiff from his tussle with the wolf-side of George two nights ago, but there were no marks on his skin. Time Lords heal quickly and don't scar.
He stood with his hands in his pockets, chewing on his bottom lip contemplatively.
Thump, thump, thump.
He crossed the console room and down the ramp to the external doors. After a second's hesitation he opened them.
George Sands stood on the grass outside, fidgeting. He didn't smile, but he didn't look angry, either. "Can I come in, please?" he asked.
The Doctor nodded, and stood aside to grant him access.
George walked halfway up the ramp and then turned around, facing the Doctor. He pushed his glasses further up his nose. Then he put his hands in his pockets, and after a moment took them out again and folded his arms awkwardly across his chest instead.
"I wanted to make sure you were alright," George said cautiously.
The Doctor looked surprised. "That I'm alright?"
George nodded. He looked awkward. "When I last saw you, a month ago... I think I might have... well, I know I started transforming. And I may have lashed out at you. I can't remember much... I'm always a bit out of it when I'm so close."
The Doctor nodded. "Higher brain functions start to decline. That's understandable. I should imagine there's a significantly high influx of neuro-chemicals flooding the trans-occipital sulcus… a marked change in synaptic impulses, probably triggered by..."
"Do you have to make everything sound like science class at school?" George snapped. The Doctor blinked in surprise.
George sighed and then wandered off, round the console. He unconsciously traced a finger across the edge as he went past.
"May I sit down?" he muttered, looking at a tatty old seat on the other side of the console. The Doctor nodded wordlessly.
George crossed over to the flight seat and sat down, a little stiffly. "I was trying to apologise. I came back… here. To this part of the woods, I mean, the morning after last month's transformation. But you'd gone."
The Doctor nodded. "Yes. Well… I didn't move from the spot. I just slipped forwards in time."
George shrugged. "I came back every day, for a few days. But you didn't come back. Then I thought… you might be here the next month, so I waited. And… here you are."
The Doctor nodded again. He hesitated. "I… probably shouldn't be here. I'm sorry… for what I did. You remember, don't you?"
George squeezed his eyes closed. "That night… the night before we met. I transformed. But then… I picked up a scent. Of you. And all I can remember after that is that my instinct was… to attack."
The Doctor nodded. "It was my own fault. I picked up your life sign on my little scanner thingy, and… well. I told you, I've met a lycanthrope before. I had to make sure history wasn't trying to repeat itself."
George nodded. "You were coming to stop me. To kill me?"
The Doctor looked horrified. "No! I just wanted to find out what you were. And if it turned out that you were dangerous, I would have… crossed that bridge when I came to it."
"But why? Who are you? Some sort of… intergalactic policeman?" George gritted his teeth frustratedly. "You never tell me anything!"
"I'm a traveller," said the Doctor simply. "That's all I am. And sometimes… I come across people who need my help. And I help them. Because I want to. It's what I do. So when I picked up a life sign that had strands of wolf in its DNA, I knew I had to investigate. But you're different. Your condition was caused by an infection. Maybe it stems back from that other lupine. You're not related to royalty, are you?"
George shook his head, bemused.
"It's strange that you were scratched in Scotland… I was in Scotland too, when I first encountered the other wolf. Maybe all of this started there, 130 years ago. Perhaps I was too late," the Doctor mused. He took a few steps forward until he was closer to the George, but didn't join him on the seat.
George looked up. "It was Tully," he said softly. "He's the only other Lyco I've ever met. I thought he was the only one who could understand me. He tried to teach me how to live with my… condition. I trusted him. Hell, I picked him over Mitchell and Annie, my real friends. And then it turns out that he was the wolf who scratched me in the first place. He made me into this!" George dug his elbows into his knees and covered his face with his hands.
The Doctor looked at George sympathetically. "One lupine infects another, and so it goes on. You were lucky."
"Lucky?" George spluttered.
"Tully could have killed you. You could have just been a trophy, or food. Or… well. But you lived. You got a second chance. I'd call that lucky, wouldn't you?"
"Depends on how you look at it," George said softly. He looked up at the Doctor suddenly. "That's another reason I came back to see you tonight. I… remembered something else."
The Doctor nodded, looking serious.
"That night… the first night you saw me as a wolf. I scratched you. I've been thinking about it ever since. Worrying. Do you know what that could mean?"
The Doctor nodded. "It's alright. I'm not human, remember? My immune system is a different to yours. It's stronger and far more effective. I don't get infections. Not as much as a cold."
George looked relieved. Then he looked at the Doctor quizzically. "I didn't scratch you because I was trying to kill you. I know that."
The Doctor looked a little awkward, now.
"It was a different sort of hunger I was feeling that night," said George. The Doctor nodded.
George squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, as though ashamed. "And you wanted me to… use you. Didn't you?"
The Doctor looked away.
"That scent I picked up of you. It was... sexual. The smell of…" George blushed.
And so did the Doctor. "I know." He took a deep breath. "I don't know came over me. I saw you transforming and…" he swallowed. George saw the Doctor clench his hands into fists. "I don't normally do that… Time Lords don't…"
"You saw me transform and…" George scratched his neck, looking a little awkward. "You have a thing for werewolves." He raised his eyebrows at the inflection of the word 'thing'.
The Doctor cleared his throat. "I suppose you could put it like that…"
George snorted. "As far as kinks go, it's a fairly specialised one, I'll give you that."
The Doctor looked embarrassed. "I'm sorry. You must feel…violated. No wonder you were angry at me." He ran a hand through his hair, not knowing what else to say.
George shrugged. "I… don't know how I feel about it, to be honest." He shook his head. "All I really want to know is... did some good come out of this? Did you find out what makes me what I am? Can you help me, or not?"
The Doctor stepped over a little closer to him. He paused, as though rehearsing what he was going to say.
"I've studied the results of the tests I did on you, George. When you're scratched or bitten by a werewolf, it passes some kind of virus into the blood. The infection that Tully gave you… it mutated your genome."
The Doctor reached over to the console and pulled on a little monitor screen until it was at the right angle for George to look at. He pulled out a little keyboard and rapidly pressed a few keys until the screen filled with data. George stared at the monitor, but the complicated figures and graphics meant nothing to him.
"Wolves have 39 nuclei chromosomal pairs, normal humans have 23. You, George, have got 24. You have an extra lupine strand that the virus created within your DNA. That's what makes you the way you are. It's an intrinsic part of you now. There's nothing I can do about that."
George nodded again. After a moment, tears ran slowly down his face. Stupid to think there could have been any sort of hope that the Doctor could help him.
But then he suddenly had a thought. "This ship, it's a time machine! You could take me back in time! Back to when I was in Scotland two years ago… you could rescue me. You could save me, Doctor! Stop Tully before he attacked me..." He sounded like he was pleading.
But the Doctor was already shaking his head. "I can't. I can't interfere with past events, George. They've already happened, they're time-locked, and to mess with that would have catastrophic consequences for the whole planet, if not the universe. I can't change history, George. Not even for you."
He reached out and ran the side of his thumb softly down George's face, wiping away the salty traces of his tears. "I'm so sorry."
George closed his eyes, and more tears flowed. He took off his glasses, and wiped at his face. "It feels like… I've lost everything again. Tully has taken everything from me, Doctor. I had a fiancée. Friends. Family. A life. And I was so scared of hurting them, I left and got as far away from them as I could."
The Doctor gazed at George with great sympathy.
George took a shuddering breath. "They probably think I'm dead, or something. Or that they did something wrong to make me leave. Can you imagine how that makes me feel?"
"Lonely, guilty and wretched? Yes, George. I have a pretty good idea." The Doctor looked so old, just then. Old and tired. "I'm not just a Time Lord, George. I'm the last one there is. My people… my planet is gone. It burned. There was a war… and… I lost everything, too."
"But your friends… you said you had friends. What happened to them?"
The Doctor sat down heavily on the flight seat next to George.
"They've all got someone else, now. And my best friend… I had to make her forget all about me. It was for her own good. I've hurt so many people, George. I've destroyed planets. Whole Empires."
"Why?" asked George bluntly.
The Doctor looked surprised at the question. "To stop pain, and horror, and suffering. To end the plans of those who would have caused even more destruction if I had let them continue."
"So by killing the few, you saved the many?"
The Doctor glanced at George, who smiled. "That was very poetic of me, wasn't it? All I mean is, it seems to me that at the end of the day, you're still the good guy."
The Doctor smiled a little, too. "Well, thank you, George. But it doesn't really make me feel any better."
George stared at the Time Lord for what seemed like a long time. Then he leaned forward and kissed the Doctor on the lips.
It was a shy, awkward kiss, but warm and genuine.
The Doctor sat back when it was over, looking bemused. "What was that for?" He seemed genuinely surprised.
George looked a little shocked at what he'd just done. "Sorry. I… don't do things like that. Normally."
The Doctor looked serious. "I think you'd better go."
George looked awkward. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to…"
The Doctor shook his head. "You're close to transformation. I can tell. And… it's probably best if you just go. Now."
George stared at him again. Then he nodded and stood up. "I don't suppose I'll see you again, will I?"
The Doctor didn't meet his eyes. "It was nice to meet you, George."
George licked his lips, and then slowly stood up and made his way around the console and to the ramp leading to the exit doors.
As he reached the ramp, he stopped and turned round.
"Last month… you said you could help me. You said you couldn't cure me, but you could still help me. What did you mean?"
The Doctor stood up and shoved his hands into his pocket, looking almost mutinous. "It doesn't matter."
George blew an exasperated snort of laughter. "Do you know how annoying it is when people do that? It does matter! Tell me what you meant. It's the least you can do, I think."
"I said it in the heat of the moment. It's… not appropriate. It never was."
George closed his eyes a moment and took a deep breath. He was closer to being the wolf. Outside, the sun was setting.
He walked towards the Doctor. The Time Lord stood steadfast, his eyes never wavering from George's.
George ran his tongue gently over the crests of his own teeth. A little sharper already. He looked at the Doctor's lips. He wanted to kiss them again, but he held himself back. He was good at that.
But for how much longer?
George squeezed his eyes closed, willing his animal self back into the shadows of his mind.
The Doctor took his hands out of his pockets. He looked a little tense. "Are you beginning to lose yourself, George?"
George opened his eyes. "A little." He smiled. "Feels good though, when I'm with you..."
The Doctor looked almost sympathetic. "You should go. Go and… do whatever you do to prepare yourself."
"I don't want to go," said George. He walked up to the Doctor. Right up close, and the Doctor tensed a little more, but didn't move.
George dipped his head towards the hollow of the Doctor's throat. "You smell good…" he almost whispered.
The Doctor swallowed. "George… I mean it…"
"How can you help me, Doctor? What did you mean? Tell me…" George's voice was little more than a whisper. He reached out and ran a slightly sharpened fingernail down the Doctor's suit lapel. It made a soft buzzing sound against the rough fabric.
The Doctor suddenly felt beads of sweat stand out on his forehead. "George, you’re… losing control. How do you feel?"
"You know how I feel…" said George. His voice sounded a little stronger. "I want… you. I want anyone. I just want to take what I want!" He gritted his teeth. His hands were clenched into fists.
The Doctor nodded. "The animal inside you is taking over. Increased hunger. Aggression, the need to hunt. A predatory craving for blood… for sex. A heightened libido. It's always been that way for werewolves. Animalistic tendencies…"
"Uncontrollable…" George muttered.
"But you do control it… as best as you can," the Doctor said, softly. "That just proves what a strong character you have… how courageous you are, to fight against yourself every time… it’s more than I could manage, the first time I saw you…"
"And for how much longer?" George ground out through gritted teeth, his eyes filling with tears. "How long can I fight it? How long before I can't resist it anymore and I go out there and… ruin someone's life forever? Or worse?"
The Doctor stared at George. "You could just give in to it. Embrace the wolf…" he almost whispered.
George shook his head. "That's what Tully told me to do. But I can't… I…" he was shaking his head violently. Then he stopped and stared at the Doctor. The Doctor's eyes were blazing.
"Oh God. God, no… you don't mean… I can't…"
The Doctor reached out and squeezed George's shoulder. "Let me show you something… something I did, for you…"
The Doctor took his hand and trembling, George let himself be steered towards the door in the corner which led to the rest of the TARDIS interior.
Just a dozen feet along the roundel-studded corridor there was a door, heavier and sturdier looking than the rest of the doors he'd seen inside the TARDIS. It was plain and thick-looking, and made of a material which, although more or less the same colour as the adjoining walls, looked as though it were made of a different substance to the rest of the ship. It glinted almost like crushed diamonds.
When the Doctor pushed it open, he seemed to struggle slightly, as though it were heavy. Inside was a fairly large room, about as big as the old isolation room George used to transform in at the hospital.
The walls were made of the same substance as the door; they looked thick and coarse. Dotted around the room was a miscellany of old wooden furniture: a bed, some battered cabinets, a wardrobe. It looked like a collection of discarded gear left in an attic and forgotten about. There was a wicker basket in the corner.
George looked at the Doctor uncertainly.
"It's a werewolf-proof room," said the Doctor, a little proudly. "I reconfigured it. It's made of crystalline bio-metal, one of the hardest substances in the galaxy. They used to make prison ships out of it. Well, I say 'used to'… it won't be invented until the 34th century…"
George shook his head, bemused. "And the furniture?"
The Doctor shrugged, looking a little sheepish. "Just… stuff that isn't needed anymore. I mean… you could just… destroy it. To give you something to do."
"Something for me to play with?" George barked out a laugh. "You built a nursery for a werewolf, complete with toys. Brilliant." His voice had a sardonic edge.
The Doctor sighed. "I just thought… it's somewhere for you to transform. Somewhere comfortable… safe… I even put food in the basket, over there. Meat…"
George folded his arms. "This is how you meant you could help me? Giving me somewhere to transform? Like putting a wayward toddler in a playpen?"
The Doctor shook his head. "I didn't mean it to seem… condescending. I planned, originally, for you to transform here. Last month. I was going to take more readings, make sure I knew what was happening to your body…"
"But there's no point. You knew last month there was nothing you could do to make me human again. So what are you suggesting now?"
"That craving in you. I want you to…" the Doctor took a breath. "Use me. Get it out of your system now, and then maybe it won't be so hard to control in the future…"
George backed away. "You can't be serious… do you know what I could do to you? I could kill you!"
"You want me, don't you?" The Doctor stood in front of George. His voice was a hoarse, almost desperate whisper. Oh God, the scent of him… George struggled to hold on to himself. The room swayed.
"I won't fight you, George…" the Doctor's eyes looked almost unfocussed, now. "You can just take me… just let out the wolf…"
"I'll hurt you…" murmured George. He balled his hands into fists, felt how sharp his fingernails were as they stuck into his own palms.
There was a silent beat.
"I know."
George stared at the alien.
He wanted to hurt the not-man… hurt him and take him and taste his blood…
George closed his eyes as the Doctor's mouth pressed against his, so hard he felt his lips mashing against his sharpening teeth. The Doctor's hands grabbed at him. George gasped as the Doctor pushed him backwards onto the discarded bed. The bare mattress was clean but old and hard; springs pressed into the flesh of his back as the Doctor pushed himself desperately against his body. The Doctor was hot to the touch, and very aroused. George felt a bulge of desperate hardness pressing almost painfully against his thigh, and he growled deep in the back of his throat.
The sound only made the Doctor more frantic. The Doctor allowed himself to be rolled over onto his back as George pushed against him. The Doctor was panting, his eyes dark as he looked up at George. He smelled of sex and sacrifice.
"Door's open," the Doctor ground out between gulps of air. "If you don't want this, then leave now. Your choice, George. It was always yours…"
George's face was creased. He was getting closer to the wolfself now. He could feel the adrenalin and the power coursing through his veins. His heart was thumping hard and fast in his chest. His breathing was ragged.
He was still George. And he was capable of distinguishing the difference between right and wrong.
But the animal self of him wanted to partake of this willing victim… and if George was really, truly, honest with himself… so did he.
To be continued
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Six