A Shift in Perspective (4/10)
Who_Daily Link: < a href="http://persiflage-1.livejournal.com/158818.html"> A Shift in Perspective (4/10) by < lj user=persiflage_1> (Characters: Martha, Eighth Doctor, Tenth Doctor, Torchwood Team, Sarah Jane | Rating: G | Spoilers: BFA: Other Lives, Season 3)
Title: A Shift in Perspective (4/10)
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Martha, Eighth Doctor, Tenth Doctor, Torchwood Team, Sarah Jane
Rating: G
Spoilers: Big Finish Audio: Other Lives, Season 3
Summary: The Tenth Doctor goes missing and it's up to Martha Jones to track him down again, but it proves both harder and more instructive than she expects.
Disclaimer: I don't even own my brain any more, never mind Doctor Who!
Author Notes: This is the fourth chapter in a ten chapter story that's set a couple of months after S4.
Many thanks to my Beta readers for this chapter: laura_luvage, ladymako71 and most especially shadowturquoise, who has done sterling work in making sure this didn't utterly suck!
Index Post
~~~~~~
The Doctor came to with a groan: his whole body ached, and his arms and chest felt as if they were on fire. Opening his eyes he found the being who had snatched him was releasing him from its bindings of blue electricity. He flexed his muscles experimentally as he was freed.
"You cannot escape Time Lord, so do not bother to try," growled the other.
"Where am I? And who are you?" asked the Doctor, his own voice hoarse and his throat dry.
"Who I am is not important. As for where you are, that information will not help you, so there is no harm in telling you that you are on Skra, awaiting my master's pleasure. And he will take great pleasure in knowing you are here, Time Lord. He has sought your capture for many centuries."
"And just who is your master?" demanded the Doctor, deciding he would get as much information from this being as he could.
"All in good time," answered the being.
"And you? What are you getting out of this?"
"You may call me Slavin, although it is not my real name, any more than yours is 'The Doctor'. As for what I'm getting out of this, it is none of your business what my business with my master may be."
"Slavin, eh? That's the Dutch word for a slave, so I'm guessing you've been promised your freedom as a reward for capturing me. I wonder if your master is the sort to keep his promises, 'cos a lot of your villains aren't. They'll break a promise as easily as they'd break your bones, more easily, usually, 'cos breaking promises requires considerably less effort."
"Enough of this babble," snarled Slavin, stepping closer to the Doctor. "Be quiet or I'll make you stay quiet."
The Time Lord opened his mouth to make a witty retort, then thought better of it. He needed to be able to attempt an escape and provoking Slavin wouldn't help, judging by the violence in his expression.
Slavin nodded. "You are reputed to be wise, Time Lord. I am glad to see that in this instance the reputation is deserved. I shall go and notify my master of your capture. If you are truly wise, you will use the time to think of ways to appease his anger at eluding him all these years." He turned and strode across the cavernous room to which he'd brought the Doctor and let himself out of a small door in the far corner.
The Doctor reflected that he was lucky not to have been tied or chained up, or to have been searched. He immediately set off across the room, intending to let himself out with his sonic, and then go in search of some form of transport to take him away.
He was so intent on the door that he failed to observe a red line painted across the floor halfway between the door and the spot where he'd regained consciousness. As soon as he attempted to cross the red line, however, a severe pain shot through his head and he staggered backwards, clutching his temples and moaning in agony.
"What was that?" he croaked. It felt as if someone had shoved a dozen red hot pokers into his brain all at once. He looked down and spotted the red line across the floor, and looking left and right, he saw that it continued across the floor and up the walls. Craning his neck and looking up into the gloom above, the Doctor saw that the red line ran across the ceiling as well.
"The thin red line," he muttered, rubbing at his temples. Delving into his inside jacket pocket, he pulled out his sonic screwdriver and then crouched down to scan the red line. "It's got a very specific current running through it, strong enough to give anyone who's got telepathic abilities a nasty headache. Basically it's the psychic equivalent of a choke chain. That must be why Slavin didn't bother restraining me - he must have believed I wouldn't be able to cross the line."
The Doctor chuckled softly. "He clearly has no idea what the sonic can do." He twiddled the settings on the slender device in his hand, then activated it again, before striding confidently forwards, the sonic held in front of him at arm's length.
As his body crossed the line there was a blinding white flash behind his eyes and a searing pain in his head, a pain exponentially worse than when he'd first tried to cross the line, and the last thing he registered before he blacked out was his body being thrown several feet backwards.
When he regained consciousness the Doctor felt disorientated and sore, as if he'd head-butted a tank.
"Martha?" he croaked, "Jack?" The last thing he clearly remembered was drinking with Martha and Jack on the TARDIS as she refuelled in Cardiff. Had Jack spiked his drink?
"Not Martha or Jack," growled a voice nearby.
The Time Lord opened his eyes cautiously, squinting against the light, although it wasn't that bright. "Oh my head," he moaned, clutching at it.
"I imagine you have found out the hard way that you cannot cross the red line," commented the voice.
The Doctor focused his eyes with difficulty. "Slavin?"
"Time Lord. Have you learned your lesson? You will remain here until such time as my master arrives to deal with you. I need not chain you since you cannot cross the red line without causing yourself considerable pain."
He set down a tray near the Doctor, then walked away.
Pulling himself up to lean against a wooden crate, the Time Lord investigated the contents of the tray and found a plate full of chunks of grey bread, a bowl of thin brown stew and a jug of water. He screwed up his nose, thinking longingly of more appetising food, but he was aware that he couldn't afford to be choosy. He drank a couple of mouthfuls of the surprisingly icy-cold water, then nibbled at a chunk of bread: it was dry and not very fresh, so he dunked it into the stew to soften it and make it a little more palatable. He didn't bother lingering over his meal since the food wasn't worth savouring, but he drank some more water, acutely aware of the dryness of his mouth and throat since he had been knocked out.
* * * * * *
Martha's first reaction when she arrived at her next destination was to wonder how on Earth she was going to find the Doctor in such a crowd of people: there were hundreds, if not thousands, crowding the glass and steel building.
"Hang on," she muttered to herself, looking up and around at the roof and walls. "Don't tell me the Doctor's decided on a day trip to the Great Exhibition at the Crystal Palace?" She felt bewildered by the noise and press of people, all of whom were dressed far more formally than she was, this being the nineteenth century, before jeans and t-shirts.
"Blimey, and I thought I stuck out in the Roaring Twenties." Martha shook her head and hoped that she wouldn't be accosted or stared at too often, then realised that talking to herself would almost certainly attract unwanted attention.
She stared around at the crowds, wondering where the Doctor was in this teeming mass of humanity. She could search for hours and not find him, yet he had to be in the building somewhere for Jack's wrist computer to have brought her here: K-9 had specificially given them the data they needed to track the Doctor himself.
Two hours after the Doctor was kidnapped.
"Sarah Jane!" exclaimed Martha suddenly, startling the others from their frustrated contemplation of the difficulty of finding the Doctor when they had no idea who had taken him or why.
"We could ask Sarah Jane," she suggested. "She's known the Doctor longer than any of us."
Jack grabbed her and tugged her close enough to plant a smacking kiss on her forehead. "I knew there was a reason I loved you Dr Jones, you're smart as well as sexy." He turned to Ianto, ignoring Martha's blush. "Use the subwave, then we can all listen in and talk to her."
"On it, sir," answered the young Welshman. He was probably the least affected by the frustration of the ineffective searches through Tosh's extensive database of aliens that they had made in the hope of identifying the being who had kidnapped the Time Lord.
A few moments later Sarah Jane's face appeared on the screen and Jack promptly offered her a smart salute. "Ma'am, we're hoping you can help us."
"Hello Jack. Martha, you're in Cardiff?" Sarah Jane asked, surprised.
"Just for the weekend," Martha answered.
"Hello Gwen, Ianto." She nodded to the other two Torchwood team members, then turned her attention back to Jack and Martha. "What can I do to help?"
"We're hoping you can identify a possible alien for us. It came through the Rift a couple of hours ago and took the Doctor."
"What?" asked Sarah Jane, shocked.
Martha quickly described the being who had kidnapped the Time Lord, but Sarah Jane was shaking her head almost before the young doctor had finished. "It sounds like the Trickster, but it can't be him. If he'd taken the Doctor, then we wouldn't remember ever knowing him, so it must be someone else, but I don't know who," she said regretfully.
"Dammit!" Martha exclaimed, frustrated at being thwarted again.
"Have you tried tracking the Doctor with the TARDIS?" asked the journalist.
"No. I don't know how to do that," the younger woman admitted.
"Well what about Jack's wrist gadget?" suggested Sarah Jane.
"We need something to go on though," Jack said. "Like a bloodhound needs a scent."
"K-9!" cried Sarah Jane.
"What?" asked Ianto, confused.
"Sarah Jane's got a robotic dog," Jack said quietly, as they all watched the older woman cross her attic to a wooden safe door set into the wall.
Sarah Jane turned the dial and the door opened to reveal a black hole beyond, and in its midst, a metal dog-shaped object.
"K-9, the Doctor has gone missing and we need a way to track him down," she told the dog.
"Suggest tracing the Doctor-Master's psychospoor, Mistress," answered K-9 in his precise tones.
"Psychospoor?" asked everyone wonderingly.
"All Time Lords have a specific psychokinetic energy which can be traced through Time and Space," the dog informed them.
"How?" asked Martha instantly.
"Mistress-Martha will require use of advanced technology."
"The TARDIS?" asked Sarah Jane, a breath ahead of everyone else.
"I can't pilot the TARDIS, not on my own," objected Martha promptly.
"Would this be capable?" asked Jack, holding up his wrist computer to the screen.
"This unit is unfamiliar with the device, Master," responded K-9.
"It's a 51st century wrist computer with a built-in Vortex Manipulator," explained Sarah Jane.
"Device will be sufficient, Mistress."
"So how do we use it to trace the Doctor's psychokinetic energy?" asked Martha.
"This unit can supply data. Request permission to interface with Mr Smith, Mistress?" asked K-9.
"Of course," answered Sarah Jane promptly.
Everyone watched as the robotic dog leapt out of the wall safe and trundled across the attic floor to the computer.
"Accessing data," boomed Mr Smith as K-9's nose probe interfaced with the computer.
"Data transfer complete," announced K-9. "This unit will return to its former task."
"Thank you K-9!" called Martha quickly.
"Mistress-Martha is welcome." He leapt back into the wall safe and Sarah Jane shut the door on him, then hurried across to her computer.
"Can you transfer the data from K-9 to Jack please, Mr Smith?"
"Transferring data now. Transfer complete."
"Thanks Sarah Jane," Jack said, as he wirelessly connected his wrist device to the computer and downloaded the data.
"Keep me informed, please?" asked Sarah Jane.
"Of course," Martha said. "We'll let you know as soon as we find him."
Sarah Jane signed out of the subwave and Jack turned to the others. "Now we need to decide who's going after the Doctor."
"I am," Martha said immediately. "He might be injured, after the way that being was treating him, so I'm the best person to go."
"I'll come with you," Jack said.
"No. You should stay here, keep an eye on the TARDIS and keep monitoring the Rift, just in case," she said.
He raised an eyebrow at her brisk tone, noticing that both Gwen and Ianto weren't looking happy. "Gwen and Ianto can monitor the Rift, and keep an eye on the TARDIS," he said.
"I really think this is more of a one-person job," Martha said.
"But what if this thing attacks you too?" Jack persisted. "You'll die and you'll stay dead."
"It won't attack me. I don't look much like a threat, and it's already seen you as a threat and dispatched you with ease," she argued. "Don't make me pull rank on you Jack." She smiled to show she wasn't entirely serious.
"I agree with Martha," Ianto chipped in. "I think she's the best person to go after the Doctor."
"Okay, okay," Jack said, sounding defeated. "But you'd better come back again! I'm not ready to lose you just yet." He wagged a finger at her, then hugged her tightly.
After a few moments he pulled away again. "Right, let me show you how to use this thing." He took her through the controls, and she repeated them back to him, then strapped the device to her wrist.
"Good luck!" Gwen said, hugging Martha quickly.
"Come back safely," Ianto told her, also giving her a hug.
"Bring him back for all of us," Jack said, saluting her.
Martha nodded, then set the controls and jumped.
Now
Martha set her jaw, then decided that a methodical search of the Crystal Palace from top to bottom was her best bet for finding the Time Lord. She had assumed the Doctor would be in her immediate vicinity since that had been true of her first four jumps, and for all she knew, he was close at hand, but she had no way of knowing what he looked like so that wasn't much assistance at this point. She had also assumed that he would stand out in some way because of his clothing, but she now realised that was a false assumption - even "her" Doctor had occasionally dressed appropriately for the situation. The thought of him in his tux at the LazLabs event brought a slight flutter to her insides, but she promptly shoved the memory aside.
Then she remembered her TARDIS key: that could lead her to the ship, and if she found the ship, it stood to reason she would eventually find the Time Lord himself, although she might have to wait a little while if he really was visiting the exhibition. She had a dim recollection of being told in a History lesson that it would take several hours to see everything that was held in the Crystal Palace.
Martha headed up the nearest staircase, intending to get a bird's eye view of the main floor of the Palace from the gallery above: she hoped that she would be able to see the TARDIS from up there. As she climbed upwards a young woman, around 20 years old, came rushing down the stairs, her voluminous skirts billowing around her.
Martha drew back against the wall, worried she would be knocked over; she was startled to see the young woman running so enthusiastically since she had gained the impression from watching Jane Austen that young ladies did not, on the whole, behave in such a manner in a public place. The young woman tossed a brief apology over her shoulder in Martha's direction as she continued her headlong rush down the stairs.
"It's nothing, I'm sure," she muttered as she reached the gallery where she spotted a man standing a few feet away. He was dressed in a velvet jacket and pale brown trousers, and he had curly brown hair above a vexed expression.
"Charley? Charley!" he cried. "I knew this would happen. It happens every time. All I have to do is let her out of my sight for one moment and she's gone." He shook his head. "What am I always telling them? 'Don't wander off', and what does she immediately do?"
Martha approached him, certain this must be the Time Lord: more than once she'd heard her own Doctor talking about not wandering off in that same exasperated tone.
"Doctor?"
He gave her a puzzled look. "I'm sorry, have we met?"
"Are you the Doctor?" she asked, then she looked past him and saw, amidst the dozens of musical instruments that filled the gallery, the familiar shape of the TARDIS.
The man's expression sharpened when he saw Martha's reaction to the sight of the ship, noticing the way her eyes lit up and her mouth curved up into a smile of delight.
"I am the Doctor," he agreed, "and you seem to know me and my ship."
She laughed softly. "Oh I know the TARDIS," she said, feeling her key growing warm against her skin where it lay inside her t-shirt. "As for you, well I travelled with you in the early 21st century."
"Did you indeed?" His manner immediately became more friendly and he smiled at her. "May I ask your name?"
"Martha, Dr Martha Jones." She held out her hand, then blushed when he immediately lifted it to kiss the back as he held her fingers.
"And may I ask how you come to be here now?" he asked. "Are you here with another me?"
She shook her head, "No, you never brought me here. I'm looking for the incarnation of you whom I know. He's gone missing."
The Doctor looked faintly alarmed. "Perhaps we should adjourn to the TARDIS and you can explain properly?" he suggested.
Martha nodded and he immediately slipped her arm through his to lead her down the gallery to where the ship waited. He opened the door, then stood back and flourished a bow to invite her inside, and she couldn't help thinking that his courtly manners were very fitting for this era; she wondered if he adjusted his behaviour according to when he was in Time, but then she had never noticed her Doctor doing so - his attitude was usually 'act as if you own the place'.
Martha stepped into the TARDIS and felt her jaw drop in astonishment. "Wow! This is - wow!"
The Doctor gave her a puzzled look. "I thought you said you knew the TARDIS?"
"Oh, I do - but not looking like this," she answered. "When I travelled, will travel - " She paused and shook her head. "In my day she doesn't look like this. And the version of the control room I've just seen with one of your earlier incarnations was a stark white affair, not this Gothic steam-punk library!"
At that moment someone came into the Control Room from the entrance on the far side of the room, then paused to stare, much as Martha, despite herself, was also staring.
"Doctor?" said the newcomer. "Where's Charley? And who is this?"
"Oh yes, sorry!" exclaimed the Time Lord apologetically. "This is Dr Martha Jones, a travelling companion of mine from the future. Martha, this is C'rizz, one of my current companions. He's a Eutermesan."
Martha smiled. "Hello."
He was an exoskeletal reptilian humanoid, with vestigial bone structures on his head, and his skin was lighter than hers, but as she watched, she saw it changing hue, and realised that he had a chameleon's nature as well.
"Where's Charley?" repeated C'rizz, ignoring Martha's curious look.
"Oh somewhere about," the Doctor answered. "She wanted to explore."
"And you let her go off by herself?"
"She'll be alright," the Time Lord said confidently. "She's a smart girl, and the Crystal Palace is well policed."
"Hmm." He turned and stalked out the way he'd come, looking distinctly grumpy.
"I don't think he likes me," Martha observed ruefully. She hadn't known that the Doctor had previously travelled with non-human companions, and she would have liked to learn more about C'rizz and his people.
"Oh he's just a bit shy about meeting new people," answered the Doctor cheerfully. "Why don't we sit down and you can tell me everything?" He gestured towards two plush red armchairs situated either side of a low round table, and Martha settled gratefully into one, then began to tell her story.
The Doctor listened attentively to her narrative, his elbows resting on the arms of his chair, and his hands steepled in front of his face.
"You say you didn't see the face of the kidnapper?" he asked when Martha had finished.
She shook her head. "No." Her voice was hoarse from recounting the disappearance of her Doctor, and her subsequent encounters with three of his other incarnations.
"I beg your pardon, Martha." He got up. "Let me get you some refreshment. Tea?"
"Yes please."
He gave her shoulder a squeeze as he passed her chair and she closed her eyes on a sudden prickle of tears; she liked this incarnation of the Doctor: he seemed more open and caring than the incarnation she knew, and there wasn't that loss and darkness in his eyes that she had seen in the ninth's and in her own Doctor's. She assumed it was the Time War that had destroyed his openness of manner, knowing from her own experience of PTSD that a truly traumatic experience, such as seeing your planet destroyed (whether by increments at the hands of someone like the Master, or all in one go at your own hands), had a profound effect on the psyche. At least the Earth had been restored when the Doctor had rewound Time: Gallifrey remained lost and inaccessible thanks to the Time Lock, unless you wanted to risk madness as Dalek Caan had done.
Martha didn't hear the Doctor return, so lost was she in her thoughts, but a gentle touch of his hand on hers made her aware that he was there; she opened her eyes and found him giving her a concerned look.
"Are you okay?" he asked softly.
"Yeah." She scrubbed at her eyes with her hand, and was surprised to find tears on her cheeks. She dug in her jeans pocket for a tissue, but he offered her a handkerchief.
"Here."
"Thank you." She managed to smile up at him.
"You will find him," he said positively.
"Oh that wasn't - I mean, I know I will. I have to."
He sat down and poured two cups of tea and Martha absent-mindedly noticed that he'd brought proper teacups and saucers, a large plateful of sandwiches and a fruit cake. She couldn't help smiling when she realised they were cucumber sandwiches, cut into triangles. There were linen napkins and a silver teapot on the tray too, and her smile widened into an outright grin.
The Doctor offered her a cup and saucer, smiling in return. "That's better."
"Thank you." She took the cup and added milk and sugar to her tea.
"Help yourself," he told her, gesturing at the sandwiches and offering her a plate.
"Thanks." She set down the cup and saucer and accepted the plate, then took a couple of the sandwiches.
"I advise you to eat plenty. Travelling through the Vortex without a vessel is an exhausting business."
Martha nodded her thanks as she began to eat, and the Doctor started talking about various people and aliens he had encountered in the past. She listened, fascinated, to his accounts of Silurians and Yeti, Daleks and Cybermen, Axons and Terileptils. He talked of meeting Marco Polo, the Emperor Nero, Wyatt Earp and Doc Holliday.
By the time he had finished, Martha had eaten her fill of sandwiches and cake, and drunk two cups of tea.
"Why were you crying earlier?" he asked. "You started to say that you weren't crying about finding me."
"I don't think I can tell you," she answered. "It's something related to your future, something that happened before I met you, the incarnation I know, and something that happened to both of us." She sighed heavily.
The Doctor got up and knelt in front of her chair, taking both of her hands in his. "My dear Martha, you must not worry about what is still to come for me. As for what happened to you when you were with me, I am sorry to think that you had to suffer anything as a result of knowing me, but your willingness to search for my later incarnation tells me that you are strong and brave - and loyal too, perhaps more loyal than I deserve. I have faith in you succeeding in your search."
She blinked back another prickle of tears, his words soothing the hurt that she had been carrying around since Tom had told her that he didn't believe her stories.
"Do you want to get some rest before you continue your search for me, I mean, the incarnation you are searching for?"
She bit her bottom lip, considering. It was tempting to stay and spend more time with this incarnation of the Doctor, but she suspected that staying longer would only make leaving later that much harder.
"No, thank you. I should be moving on. I've got no idea who took him or where, but the fact that he was taken 'for revenge' suggests too many bad things for me to want to delay any longer." She managed a smile. "Thank you for the food - and the stories."
He got up. "Let me recalibrate Jack's computer, then, and why don't you cut some of that cake to take with you?" he suggested, pulling some greaseproof paper from his jacket pocket.
"Thanks." Martha accepted the paper, then gave him the wrist computer, and while he adjusted the controls with his sonic, she got up and cut two thick slices of cake, which she wrapped and pocketed. Her fingers brushed against the apple that she had been given by the fifth incarnation of the Doctor and she remembered she did not know which incarnation she had found this time.
"Which incarnation are you?" she asked, taking the wrist computer from him and strapping it on.
"This is my eighth body," he told her. He hesitated a moment, then pulled her into a hug, which she returned, clinging tightly to him for a few moments before letting him go.
"Thank you for everything," she said.
He kissed her forehead. "Thank you for being such a good friend. Travel safely."
She nodded, then hurried out of the TARDIS before she could change her mind about staying any longer.
Title: A Shift in Perspective (4/10)
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Martha, Eighth Doctor, Tenth Doctor, Torchwood Team, Sarah Jane
Rating: G
Spoilers: Big Finish Audio: Other Lives, Season 3
Summary: The Tenth Doctor goes missing and it's up to Martha Jones to track him down again, but it proves both harder and more instructive than she expects.
Disclaimer: I don't even own my brain any more, never mind Doctor Who!
Author Notes: This is the fourth chapter in a ten chapter story that's set a couple of months after S4.
Many thanks to my Beta readers for this chapter: laura_luvage, ladymako71 and most especially shadowturquoise, who has done sterling work in making sure this didn't utterly suck!
Index Post
~~~~~~
The Doctor came to with a groan: his whole body ached, and his arms and chest felt as if they were on fire. Opening his eyes he found the being who had snatched him was releasing him from its bindings of blue electricity. He flexed his muscles experimentally as he was freed.
"You cannot escape Time Lord, so do not bother to try," growled the other.
"Where am I? And who are you?" asked the Doctor, his own voice hoarse and his throat dry.
"Who I am is not important. As for where you are, that information will not help you, so there is no harm in telling you that you are on Skra, awaiting my master's pleasure. And he will take great pleasure in knowing you are here, Time Lord. He has sought your capture for many centuries."
"And just who is your master?" demanded the Doctor, deciding he would get as much information from this being as he could.
"All in good time," answered the being.
"And you? What are you getting out of this?"
"You may call me Slavin, although it is not my real name, any more than yours is 'The Doctor'. As for what I'm getting out of this, it is none of your business what my business with my master may be."
"Slavin, eh? That's the Dutch word for a slave, so I'm guessing you've been promised your freedom as a reward for capturing me. I wonder if your master is the sort to keep his promises, 'cos a lot of your villains aren't. They'll break a promise as easily as they'd break your bones, more easily, usually, 'cos breaking promises requires considerably less effort."
"Enough of this babble," snarled Slavin, stepping closer to the Doctor. "Be quiet or I'll make you stay quiet."
The Time Lord opened his mouth to make a witty retort, then thought better of it. He needed to be able to attempt an escape and provoking Slavin wouldn't help, judging by the violence in his expression.
Slavin nodded. "You are reputed to be wise, Time Lord. I am glad to see that in this instance the reputation is deserved. I shall go and notify my master of your capture. If you are truly wise, you will use the time to think of ways to appease his anger at eluding him all these years." He turned and strode across the cavernous room to which he'd brought the Doctor and let himself out of a small door in the far corner.
The Doctor reflected that he was lucky not to have been tied or chained up, or to have been searched. He immediately set off across the room, intending to let himself out with his sonic, and then go in search of some form of transport to take him away.
He was so intent on the door that he failed to observe a red line painted across the floor halfway between the door and the spot where he'd regained consciousness. As soon as he attempted to cross the red line, however, a severe pain shot through his head and he staggered backwards, clutching his temples and moaning in agony.
"What was that?" he croaked. It felt as if someone had shoved a dozen red hot pokers into his brain all at once. He looked down and spotted the red line across the floor, and looking left and right, he saw that it continued across the floor and up the walls. Craning his neck and looking up into the gloom above, the Doctor saw that the red line ran across the ceiling as well.
"The thin red line," he muttered, rubbing at his temples. Delving into his inside jacket pocket, he pulled out his sonic screwdriver and then crouched down to scan the red line. "It's got a very specific current running through it, strong enough to give anyone who's got telepathic abilities a nasty headache. Basically it's the psychic equivalent of a choke chain. That must be why Slavin didn't bother restraining me - he must have believed I wouldn't be able to cross the line."
The Doctor chuckled softly. "He clearly has no idea what the sonic can do." He twiddled the settings on the slender device in his hand, then activated it again, before striding confidently forwards, the sonic held in front of him at arm's length.
As his body crossed the line there was a blinding white flash behind his eyes and a searing pain in his head, a pain exponentially worse than when he'd first tried to cross the line, and the last thing he registered before he blacked out was his body being thrown several feet backwards.
When he regained consciousness the Doctor felt disorientated and sore, as if he'd head-butted a tank.
"Martha?" he croaked, "Jack?" The last thing he clearly remembered was drinking with Martha and Jack on the TARDIS as she refuelled in Cardiff. Had Jack spiked his drink?
"Not Martha or Jack," growled a voice nearby.
The Time Lord opened his eyes cautiously, squinting against the light, although it wasn't that bright. "Oh my head," he moaned, clutching at it.
"I imagine you have found out the hard way that you cannot cross the red line," commented the voice.
The Doctor focused his eyes with difficulty. "Slavin?"
"Time Lord. Have you learned your lesson? You will remain here until such time as my master arrives to deal with you. I need not chain you since you cannot cross the red line without causing yourself considerable pain."
He set down a tray near the Doctor, then walked away.
Pulling himself up to lean against a wooden crate, the Time Lord investigated the contents of the tray and found a plate full of chunks of grey bread, a bowl of thin brown stew and a jug of water. He screwed up his nose, thinking longingly of more appetising food, but he was aware that he couldn't afford to be choosy. He drank a couple of mouthfuls of the surprisingly icy-cold water, then nibbled at a chunk of bread: it was dry and not very fresh, so he dunked it into the stew to soften it and make it a little more palatable. He didn't bother lingering over his meal since the food wasn't worth savouring, but he drank some more water, acutely aware of the dryness of his mouth and throat since he had been knocked out.
* * * * * *
Martha's first reaction when she arrived at her next destination was to wonder how on Earth she was going to find the Doctor in such a crowd of people: there were hundreds, if not thousands, crowding the glass and steel building.
"Hang on," she muttered to herself, looking up and around at the roof and walls. "Don't tell me the Doctor's decided on a day trip to the Great Exhibition at the Crystal Palace?" She felt bewildered by the noise and press of people, all of whom were dressed far more formally than she was, this being the nineteenth century, before jeans and t-shirts.
"Blimey, and I thought I stuck out in the Roaring Twenties." Martha shook her head and hoped that she wouldn't be accosted or stared at too often, then realised that talking to herself would almost certainly attract unwanted attention.
She stared around at the crowds, wondering where the Doctor was in this teeming mass of humanity. She could search for hours and not find him, yet he had to be in the building somewhere for Jack's wrist computer to have brought her here: K-9 had specificially given them the data they needed to track the Doctor himself.
Two hours after the Doctor was kidnapped.
"Sarah Jane!" exclaimed Martha suddenly, startling the others from their frustrated contemplation of the difficulty of finding the Doctor when they had no idea who had taken him or why.
"We could ask Sarah Jane," she suggested. "She's known the Doctor longer than any of us."
Jack grabbed her and tugged her close enough to plant a smacking kiss on her forehead. "I knew there was a reason I loved you Dr Jones, you're smart as well as sexy." He turned to Ianto, ignoring Martha's blush. "Use the subwave, then we can all listen in and talk to her."
"On it, sir," answered the young Welshman. He was probably the least affected by the frustration of the ineffective searches through Tosh's extensive database of aliens that they had made in the hope of identifying the being who had kidnapped the Time Lord.
A few moments later Sarah Jane's face appeared on the screen and Jack promptly offered her a smart salute. "Ma'am, we're hoping you can help us."
"Hello Jack. Martha, you're in Cardiff?" Sarah Jane asked, surprised.
"Just for the weekend," Martha answered.
"Hello Gwen, Ianto." She nodded to the other two Torchwood team members, then turned her attention back to Jack and Martha. "What can I do to help?"
"We're hoping you can identify a possible alien for us. It came through the Rift a couple of hours ago and took the Doctor."
"What?" asked Sarah Jane, shocked.
Martha quickly described the being who had kidnapped the Time Lord, but Sarah Jane was shaking her head almost before the young doctor had finished. "It sounds like the Trickster, but it can't be him. If he'd taken the Doctor, then we wouldn't remember ever knowing him, so it must be someone else, but I don't know who," she said regretfully.
"Dammit!" Martha exclaimed, frustrated at being thwarted again.
"Have you tried tracking the Doctor with the TARDIS?" asked the journalist.
"No. I don't know how to do that," the younger woman admitted.
"Well what about Jack's wrist gadget?" suggested Sarah Jane.
"We need something to go on though," Jack said. "Like a bloodhound needs a scent."
"K-9!" cried Sarah Jane.
"What?" asked Ianto, confused.
"Sarah Jane's got a robotic dog," Jack said quietly, as they all watched the older woman cross her attic to a wooden safe door set into the wall.
Sarah Jane turned the dial and the door opened to reveal a black hole beyond, and in its midst, a metal dog-shaped object.
"K-9, the Doctor has gone missing and we need a way to track him down," she told the dog.
"Suggest tracing the Doctor-Master's psychospoor, Mistress," answered K-9 in his precise tones.
"Psychospoor?" asked everyone wonderingly.
"All Time Lords have a specific psychokinetic energy which can be traced through Time and Space," the dog informed them.
"How?" asked Martha instantly.
"Mistress-Martha will require use of advanced technology."
"The TARDIS?" asked Sarah Jane, a breath ahead of everyone else.
"I can't pilot the TARDIS, not on my own," objected Martha promptly.
"Would this be capable?" asked Jack, holding up his wrist computer to the screen.
"This unit is unfamiliar with the device, Master," responded K-9.
"It's a 51st century wrist computer with a built-in Vortex Manipulator," explained Sarah Jane.
"Device will be sufficient, Mistress."
"So how do we use it to trace the Doctor's psychokinetic energy?" asked Martha.
"This unit can supply data. Request permission to interface with Mr Smith, Mistress?" asked K-9.
"Of course," answered Sarah Jane promptly.
Everyone watched as the robotic dog leapt out of the wall safe and trundled across the attic floor to the computer.
"Accessing data," boomed Mr Smith as K-9's nose probe interfaced with the computer.
"Data transfer complete," announced K-9. "This unit will return to its former task."
"Thank you K-9!" called Martha quickly.
"Mistress-Martha is welcome." He leapt back into the wall safe and Sarah Jane shut the door on him, then hurried across to her computer.
"Can you transfer the data from K-9 to Jack please, Mr Smith?"
"Transferring data now. Transfer complete."
"Thanks Sarah Jane," Jack said, as he wirelessly connected his wrist device to the computer and downloaded the data.
"Keep me informed, please?" asked Sarah Jane.
"Of course," Martha said. "We'll let you know as soon as we find him."
Sarah Jane signed out of the subwave and Jack turned to the others. "Now we need to decide who's going after the Doctor."
"I am," Martha said immediately. "He might be injured, after the way that being was treating him, so I'm the best person to go."
"I'll come with you," Jack said.
"No. You should stay here, keep an eye on the TARDIS and keep monitoring the Rift, just in case," she said.
He raised an eyebrow at her brisk tone, noticing that both Gwen and Ianto weren't looking happy. "Gwen and Ianto can monitor the Rift, and keep an eye on the TARDIS," he said.
"I really think this is more of a one-person job," Martha said.
"But what if this thing attacks you too?" Jack persisted. "You'll die and you'll stay dead."
"It won't attack me. I don't look much like a threat, and it's already seen you as a threat and dispatched you with ease," she argued. "Don't make me pull rank on you Jack." She smiled to show she wasn't entirely serious.
"I agree with Martha," Ianto chipped in. "I think she's the best person to go after the Doctor."
"Okay, okay," Jack said, sounding defeated. "But you'd better come back again! I'm not ready to lose you just yet." He wagged a finger at her, then hugged her tightly.
After a few moments he pulled away again. "Right, let me show you how to use this thing." He took her through the controls, and she repeated them back to him, then strapped the device to her wrist.
"Good luck!" Gwen said, hugging Martha quickly.
"Come back safely," Ianto told her, also giving her a hug.
"Bring him back for all of us," Jack said, saluting her.
Martha nodded, then set the controls and jumped.
Now
Martha set her jaw, then decided that a methodical search of the Crystal Palace from top to bottom was her best bet for finding the Time Lord. She had assumed the Doctor would be in her immediate vicinity since that had been true of her first four jumps, and for all she knew, he was close at hand, but she had no way of knowing what he looked like so that wasn't much assistance at this point. She had also assumed that he would stand out in some way because of his clothing, but she now realised that was a false assumption - even "her" Doctor had occasionally dressed appropriately for the situation. The thought of him in his tux at the LazLabs event brought a slight flutter to her insides, but she promptly shoved the memory aside.
Then she remembered her TARDIS key: that could lead her to the ship, and if she found the ship, it stood to reason she would eventually find the Time Lord himself, although she might have to wait a little while if he really was visiting the exhibition. She had a dim recollection of being told in a History lesson that it would take several hours to see everything that was held in the Crystal Palace.
Martha headed up the nearest staircase, intending to get a bird's eye view of the main floor of the Palace from the gallery above: she hoped that she would be able to see the TARDIS from up there. As she climbed upwards a young woman, around 20 years old, came rushing down the stairs, her voluminous skirts billowing around her.
Martha drew back against the wall, worried she would be knocked over; she was startled to see the young woman running so enthusiastically since she had gained the impression from watching Jane Austen that young ladies did not, on the whole, behave in such a manner in a public place. The young woman tossed a brief apology over her shoulder in Martha's direction as she continued her headlong rush down the stairs.
"It's nothing, I'm sure," she muttered as she reached the gallery where she spotted a man standing a few feet away. He was dressed in a velvet jacket and pale brown trousers, and he had curly brown hair above a vexed expression.
"Charley? Charley!" he cried. "I knew this would happen. It happens every time. All I have to do is let her out of my sight for one moment and she's gone." He shook his head. "What am I always telling them? 'Don't wander off', and what does she immediately do?"
Martha approached him, certain this must be the Time Lord: more than once she'd heard her own Doctor talking about not wandering off in that same exasperated tone.
"Doctor?"
He gave her a puzzled look. "I'm sorry, have we met?"
"Are you the Doctor?" she asked, then she looked past him and saw, amidst the dozens of musical instruments that filled the gallery, the familiar shape of the TARDIS.
The man's expression sharpened when he saw Martha's reaction to the sight of the ship, noticing the way her eyes lit up and her mouth curved up into a smile of delight.
"I am the Doctor," he agreed, "and you seem to know me and my ship."
She laughed softly. "Oh I know the TARDIS," she said, feeling her key growing warm against her skin where it lay inside her t-shirt. "As for you, well I travelled with you in the early 21st century."
"Did you indeed?" His manner immediately became more friendly and he smiled at her. "May I ask your name?"
"Martha, Dr Martha Jones." She held out her hand, then blushed when he immediately lifted it to kiss the back as he held her fingers.
"And may I ask how you come to be here now?" he asked. "Are you here with another me?"
She shook her head, "No, you never brought me here. I'm looking for the incarnation of you whom I know. He's gone missing."
The Doctor looked faintly alarmed. "Perhaps we should adjourn to the TARDIS and you can explain properly?" he suggested.
Martha nodded and he immediately slipped her arm through his to lead her down the gallery to where the ship waited. He opened the door, then stood back and flourished a bow to invite her inside, and she couldn't help thinking that his courtly manners were very fitting for this era; she wondered if he adjusted his behaviour according to when he was in Time, but then she had never noticed her Doctor doing so - his attitude was usually 'act as if you own the place'.
Martha stepped into the TARDIS and felt her jaw drop in astonishment. "Wow! This is - wow!"
The Doctor gave her a puzzled look. "I thought you said you knew the TARDIS?"
"Oh, I do - but not looking like this," she answered. "When I travelled, will travel - " She paused and shook her head. "In my day she doesn't look like this. And the version of the control room I've just seen with one of your earlier incarnations was a stark white affair, not this Gothic steam-punk library!"
At that moment someone came into the Control Room from the entrance on the far side of the room, then paused to stare, much as Martha, despite herself, was also staring.
"Doctor?" said the newcomer. "Where's Charley? And who is this?"
"Oh yes, sorry!" exclaimed the Time Lord apologetically. "This is Dr Martha Jones, a travelling companion of mine from the future. Martha, this is C'rizz, one of my current companions. He's a Eutermesan."
Martha smiled. "Hello."
He was an exoskeletal reptilian humanoid, with vestigial bone structures on his head, and his skin was lighter than hers, but as she watched, she saw it changing hue, and realised that he had a chameleon's nature as well.
"Where's Charley?" repeated C'rizz, ignoring Martha's curious look.
"Oh somewhere about," the Doctor answered. "She wanted to explore."
"And you let her go off by herself?"
"She'll be alright," the Time Lord said confidently. "She's a smart girl, and the Crystal Palace is well policed."
"Hmm." He turned and stalked out the way he'd come, looking distinctly grumpy.
"I don't think he likes me," Martha observed ruefully. She hadn't known that the Doctor had previously travelled with non-human companions, and she would have liked to learn more about C'rizz and his people.
"Oh he's just a bit shy about meeting new people," answered the Doctor cheerfully. "Why don't we sit down and you can tell me everything?" He gestured towards two plush red armchairs situated either side of a low round table, and Martha settled gratefully into one, then began to tell her story.
The Doctor listened attentively to her narrative, his elbows resting on the arms of his chair, and his hands steepled in front of his face.
"You say you didn't see the face of the kidnapper?" he asked when Martha had finished.
She shook her head. "No." Her voice was hoarse from recounting the disappearance of her Doctor, and her subsequent encounters with three of his other incarnations.
"I beg your pardon, Martha." He got up. "Let me get you some refreshment. Tea?"
"Yes please."
He gave her shoulder a squeeze as he passed her chair and she closed her eyes on a sudden prickle of tears; she liked this incarnation of the Doctor: he seemed more open and caring than the incarnation she knew, and there wasn't that loss and darkness in his eyes that she had seen in the ninth's and in her own Doctor's. She assumed it was the Time War that had destroyed his openness of manner, knowing from her own experience of PTSD that a truly traumatic experience, such as seeing your planet destroyed (whether by increments at the hands of someone like the Master, or all in one go at your own hands), had a profound effect on the psyche. At least the Earth had been restored when the Doctor had rewound Time: Gallifrey remained lost and inaccessible thanks to the Time Lock, unless you wanted to risk madness as Dalek Caan had done.
Martha didn't hear the Doctor return, so lost was she in her thoughts, but a gentle touch of his hand on hers made her aware that he was there; she opened her eyes and found him giving her a concerned look.
"Are you okay?" he asked softly.
"Yeah." She scrubbed at her eyes with her hand, and was surprised to find tears on her cheeks. She dug in her jeans pocket for a tissue, but he offered her a handkerchief.
"Here."
"Thank you." She managed to smile up at him.
"You will find him," he said positively.
"Oh that wasn't - I mean, I know I will. I have to."
He sat down and poured two cups of tea and Martha absent-mindedly noticed that he'd brought proper teacups and saucers, a large plateful of sandwiches and a fruit cake. She couldn't help smiling when she realised they were cucumber sandwiches, cut into triangles. There were linen napkins and a silver teapot on the tray too, and her smile widened into an outright grin.
The Doctor offered her a cup and saucer, smiling in return. "That's better."
"Thank you." She took the cup and added milk and sugar to her tea.
"Help yourself," he told her, gesturing at the sandwiches and offering her a plate.
"Thanks." She set down the cup and saucer and accepted the plate, then took a couple of the sandwiches.
"I advise you to eat plenty. Travelling through the Vortex without a vessel is an exhausting business."
Martha nodded her thanks as she began to eat, and the Doctor started talking about various people and aliens he had encountered in the past. She listened, fascinated, to his accounts of Silurians and Yeti, Daleks and Cybermen, Axons and Terileptils. He talked of meeting Marco Polo, the Emperor Nero, Wyatt Earp and Doc Holliday.
By the time he had finished, Martha had eaten her fill of sandwiches and cake, and drunk two cups of tea.
"Why were you crying earlier?" he asked. "You started to say that you weren't crying about finding me."
"I don't think I can tell you," she answered. "It's something related to your future, something that happened before I met you, the incarnation I know, and something that happened to both of us." She sighed heavily.
The Doctor got up and knelt in front of her chair, taking both of her hands in his. "My dear Martha, you must not worry about what is still to come for me. As for what happened to you when you were with me, I am sorry to think that you had to suffer anything as a result of knowing me, but your willingness to search for my later incarnation tells me that you are strong and brave - and loyal too, perhaps more loyal than I deserve. I have faith in you succeeding in your search."
She blinked back another prickle of tears, his words soothing the hurt that she had been carrying around since Tom had told her that he didn't believe her stories.
"Do you want to get some rest before you continue your search for me, I mean, the incarnation you are searching for?"
She bit her bottom lip, considering. It was tempting to stay and spend more time with this incarnation of the Doctor, but she suspected that staying longer would only make leaving later that much harder.
"No, thank you. I should be moving on. I've got no idea who took him or where, but the fact that he was taken 'for revenge' suggests too many bad things for me to want to delay any longer." She managed a smile. "Thank you for the food - and the stories."
He got up. "Let me recalibrate Jack's computer, then, and why don't you cut some of that cake to take with you?" he suggested, pulling some greaseproof paper from his jacket pocket.
"Thanks." Martha accepted the paper, then gave him the wrist computer, and while he adjusted the controls with his sonic, she got up and cut two thick slices of cake, which she wrapped and pocketed. Her fingers brushed against the apple that she had been given by the fifth incarnation of the Doctor and she remembered she did not know which incarnation she had found this time.
"Which incarnation are you?" she asked, taking the wrist computer from him and strapping it on.
"This is my eighth body," he told her. He hesitated a moment, then pulled her into a hug, which she returned, clinging tightly to him for a few moments before letting him go.
"Thank you for everything," she said.
He kissed her forehead. "Thank you for being such a good friend. Travel safely."
She nodded, then hurried out of the TARDIS before she could change her mind about staying any longer.