A Shift in Perspective (6/10)
Who_Daily Link: < a href="http://persiflage-1.livejournal.com/165045.html"> A Shift in Perspective (6/10) by < lj user=persiflage_1> (Characters: Martha, Fourth Doctor, Tenth Doctor, Sarah Jane, UNIT | Rating: PG | Spoilers: Robot, S3. S4.12)
Title: A Shift in Perspective (6/10)
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Martha, Fourth Doctor, Tenth Doctor, UNIT, Sarah Jane, Black Guardian
Rating: PG (Rated for violence)
Spoilers: Robot, Season 3, The Stolen Earth
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 sixth chapter in a ten chapter story that's set a couple of months after S4. Credit goes to box_in_the_box for suggesting the villain of the piece.
Many thanks to my Beta readers for this chapter: ladymako71 and most especially shadowturquoise, who has done sterling work in making sure this didn't utterly suck!
Index Post
~~~~~~
On Skra
The Doctor looked up into the deeply lined imperturbable face of the Black Guardian, taking in the half-forgotten sight of the raven headdress and the glossy, ermined-lined black robes that the other wore.
"You were warned," the Black Guardian said, his rumbling voice seeming to echo through Time, "that thwarting me again would leave me angrier than before. Now you will pay for your previous insolence. I am only sorry that your foolish companions, the boy and the girl, are not here also to receive their just punishment."
The Doctor's mind flashed back to the last time that he'd seen Turlough and Tegan, and he blinked hard, forcing down his emotions.
"Personally, I'm glad they're not here," the Time Lord said.
The Black Guardian sneered. "You always did have an alarmingly high tolerance for those of the lesser races, like Trions and Humans. I never did understand why you bothered with them."
"The Doctor scowled. "I'm not surprised, You don't see the value of much besides chaos, disorder and darkness. You can't keep me here, you know."
"Oh, but I can. No one except we three knows where you are - and even you don't know your exact location."
"It doesn't matter," the Time Lord asserted confidently. "There are people out there who know I'm missing, people who care enough to come looking for me."
The Black Guardian laughed mirthlessly. "Even if anyone should succeed in finding you, which you should not count on, it will do you no good Doctor. I will not be letting you or anyone else leave here alive. Accept the facts, Doctor, your days are numbered and Slavin here will ensure that the few that remain are as unpleasant as possible. Believe me when I say that you will regret thwarting me, Time Lord, you just won't have long to live with those regrets.
He turned and stalked away, disappearing through the wall, rather than pretending to use the door as he had before.
Slavin gave the Doctor a vicious smile before backhanding him so hard that he blacked out.
* * * * * *
On Earth
Martha's next jump was greeted with a squeal of brakes and shouts of alarm, and she opened her eyes in time to see an open-backed jeep containing three men hurtling past her towards the steep grassy bank at the side of the road. The driver hauled madly on the wheel and managed to avoid crashing, but he scraped the wing of the jeep along the grass before stopping.
She stumbled forward on still-shaky legs to be confronted by an angry-looking man with wild curly hair and bulging eyes, who was wearing a brown hat and a ridiculously long scarf, and she knew he must be the Doctor. Then she spotted the other two men over his shoulder and gasped when she realised one of them was Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart, a few years older than when she'd seen him just now. She didn't know the second man, but did notice that he was wearing a navy blue jacket and a peaked cap, and she felt her heart speed up a little at the sight of him.
"You again!" exclaimed the Doctor once he was in hailing distance.
Martha blinked, surprised: this was the first time that any of the Doctor's incarnations had recognised her, and she felt rather disconcerted.
"Doctor. Brigadier. Lieutenant." She had to quickly shuffle through her knowledge of ranks and the sleeve stripes used to denote them before she acknowledged the third man, who was staring at her open-mouthed in astonishment, presumably because of her dramatic arrival.
"Dr Jones," the Brigadier acknowledged, apparently as imperturbable as ever.
Martha couldn't help saluting him, even though he wasn't her commanding officer.
"This is Lieutenant Harry Sullivan, UNIT's current MO." The Brigadier turned to the sailor. "This is Dr Martha Jones, UNIT's MO in the early 21st century."
"You're a time-traveller too?" asked Harry as he shook hands.
"At the moment," she answered, watching the Doctor from the corner of her eye: she thought he didn't look very pleased to see her.
"You'd better get in," the Time Lord said, gesturing at the jeep.
"Thank you." She followed the three men over to the vehicle.
"You had better travel in the front with the Doctor," the Brigadier said as the Time Lord swung himself into the driver's seat.
"I'll be fine in the back, thank you." She smiled up at him and he gave her the tiniest of winks.
"May I offer you some assistance?" asked Harry, with what Martha considered to be old-fashioned courtesy.
"Thanks, but I can manage," she assured him, before expertly swinging herself up into the back of the jeep.
"Oh I say," murmured Harry, before joining her.
"How is your shoulder Dr Jones?" called the Brigadier from the front of the jeep as the Doctor started it up again.
"Still a bit stiff and achy," she told him, "but I'll live."
"You must let Dr Sullivan look at it before you go off again," the Brigadier said.
"What happened to your shoulder?" asked Harry curiously.
"I got shot by one of the Brigadier's men," she told him.
"Oh my!" He looked quite horrified by this revelation and Martha found herself wondering just how much experience he had as UNIT's MO if he was so easily shocked.
The journey passed without conversation since the jeep was quite noisy, particularly given the speed at which the Doctor was driving.
When they reached UNIT HQ they were met by a harassed-looking Sergeant Benton who couldn't help doing a double take at the sight of Martha, but he didn't otherwise acknowledge her presence, instead hurrying after the Doctor who had stalked off down the corridor, his scarf trailing behind him like a bizarre sort of wedding train.
The Brigadier turned to Martha and Harry. "Sullivan, why don't you take Dr Jones to the sick bay and check her shoulder wound, and then go down to the canteen for something to eat. Come and see me in my office afterwards, and in the meantime I'll talk to the Doctor." He spoke confidentially to Martha. "He's just regenerated and he's a bit tetchy about that and the current case."
She nodded her understanding.
"Sullivan here will look after you." He turned to Harry. "Dr Jones is on a very important mission and it's vital that she receives the best possible care for the sake of everyone."
Martha felt her cheeks heating up at the Brigadier's words, and hoped her darker skin would hide her blushes.
"Oh golly!" said Harry, directing an awed look at her.
"So I'm entrusting Dr Jones to your care, Sullivan."
Harry gave the Brigadier a smart salute, then turned to Martha and offered her his arm, which she accepted, suppressing a smile. The Brigadier strode off down the corridor that the Doctor and Sergeant Benton had taken, but Harry led Martha down a different corridor.
"So you're a naval officer?" Martha asked. "Doesn't that get confusing - I mean, do I address you as Doctor or Lieutenant?"
He gave her a warm smile. "I don't mind," he told her, "but you could - " He stopped suddenly, looking faintly embarrassed.
"I could what?" asked Martha, thinking First Sergeant Benton, now Dr Sullivan, and wondering why she seemed to fluster these UNIT men. She could have understood it if she was as pretty as Tish: her elder sister only had to look at a man to make him go weak at the knees.
"You could call me Harry," he said in a rush. "If you don't think that's too forward of me, Dr Jones?"
"I tell you what, I'll call you Harry if you'll call me Martha," she suggested, grinning.
He tugged at the collar of his shirt as if it was suddenly too tight, then agreed. "The sick bay is in here," he told her, stopping and opening a swing door, then gesturing for her to precede him.
Martha stepped through the doors and looked around, noting that it didn't look too dissimilar to the various UNIT infirmaries in which she had worked.
"It's all a bit outdated to you, I expect," Harry said.
"Actually early 21st century medical equipment isn't vastly different, we just use a lot more computers and computerised equipment than you do."
She thought fleetingly of the really advanced equipment that had been destroyed by the Daleks when they had stormed the UNIT HQ in Manhattan. Equipment could be replaced, of course, unlike personnel, and for all he'd been a bit sarcastic and tetchy, Martha had liked General Sanchez, and deeply regretted his death by the Daleks while she had escaped. It had been too much like people dying on her behalf during that awful year.
Martha blinked, forcing those memories back behind their walls and looked up to see Harry gazing at her, an expression of concern on his face.
"I say, are you all right?" he asked anxiously.
"Yes," she answered, "just remembering something."
He guided her over to one of the beds and she sat down a little heavily, removing her coat while Harry pulled the privacy curtains around the bed, even though the sick bay was currently empty.
"May I?" he asked, gesturing at the dressing on her shoulder, and she noticed that his tone and manner had become brisk and professional now.
She nodded, and tried not to start or shiver when he touched her shoulder, but she did grit her teeth when he began to unpeel the dressing.
"How exactly did this happen?" he asked, peering closely at the neat stitching. "You said you were shot by one of the Brigadier's men."
"I've been jumping through Time and Space, trying to find the incarnation of the Doctor I know, and on my last jump I landed in a mobile UNIT HQ in the midst of yet another crisis - probably an attempted alien invasion. Since, as you saw, I tend to appear abruptly out of nowhere, one of the Brigadier's men reacted too quickly, despite the Doctor's instructions not to shoot, so he fired and I was hit."
"That must have been terrifying," Harry said sympathetically.
Martha laughed softly. "How long have you been working with UNIT Dr Sullivan?"
He gave her a puzzled look. "A little while."
"Well when you've been working them for some time, you'll soon find that being shot is probably a lot less terrifying than it seems, at least compared to all the other things that could happen to you while you're out in the field."
He glanced at her as he finished redressing her shoulder. "How long have you worked for UNIT?"
"About 18 months, but I travelled with the Doctor before that and I gained a lot of field experience - that's how I ended up with UNIT." She gave him a slightly brittle smile. "After all I'd seen and done, I couldn't really imagine settling down to a regular career."
She pulled the strap back up on her vest top, then put on her jacket before giving him an expectant look.
"Ah yes," he said, remembering the rest of the Brigadier's instructions for Martha's 'care'.
She followed him out of the sick bay and through the maze of corridors to the canteen.
"I always wonder why they insisted on building this place with so many corridors," Harry commented as he opened the canteen door and waited for Martha to go in.
"It's to confuse the enemy, should they infiltrate: the intention is that an enemy will lose their way before they reach any strategically significant areas," Martha answered almost absent-mindedly as she noticed the handful of soldiers who all looked up at her entrance, who were now staring at her with ill-disguised interest.
She saw Harry staring impassively at them, and everyone's attention quickly went back to whatever they'd been doing before she had walked in with him.
He led her over to the counter and got them a pot of tea and a plate of sandwiches, and Martha abruptly remembered there were still two slices of cake in her jacket pocket. She swallowed a lump of emotion at the thought of the Doctor's eighth incarnation, so gentle and caring, and with such horrors still to come. Walking away from him had been the hardest decision she'd made since embarking on this quest, even though he hadn't been vulnerable like the third, or broken and needy like the ninth.
"Martha. Dr Jones?"
She suddenly realised Harry was talking to her, his expression anxious as he peered at her across the table.
"Sorry, you were saying?"
"I just wanted to know how you take your tea?" he asked.
"Oh, milk and two sugars please." She rubbed a hand over her face, realising that this search for 'her' Doctor was proving to be emotionally as well as physically challenging, which she hadn't anticipated when she'd insisted to Jack that she should be the one to look for the Doctor.
Martha accepted the mug of tea that Harry gave her and sought for a topic of conversation that would distract her from her memories. Before she could think of anything, Sergeant Benton hurried into the canteen and quickly joined them.
"I say, old chap, are you all right?" asked Harry in some concern, seeing how harried Benton looked.
He nodded. "It's the Doctor. He's in a bit of a tear. Apparently Miss Smith isn't back yet from her visit to that Think Tank lot, and he wants her for something. And - " He hesitated, looking away from Martha's steady gaze.
"And he's not happy to see me, is he?" she guessed.
"It's not exactly that, Miss. It's just that he remembers meeting you before, and he was muttering something about his earlier incarnations being sentimental old fools, especially the last one." He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Apparently you met him after Miss Grant announced her engagement?"
Martha nodded. "Perhaps I should go and see him, get it over with?" she suggested.
"I don't think the Brigadier feels that's a good idea, Miss. He suggested that I escort you to his office once you're suitably refreshed, and that Dr Sullivan goes to see the Doctor."
"Me? Oh I say!" Harry looked rather alarmed at the idea, which surprised Martha.
"He's not likely to be violent, is he?"
"Oh no, I shouldn't think so," answered Harry hastily. "It's just that, well, he tied me up and hung me in a cupboard the last time I tried to assert my medical authority over him.
Benton looked away, his mouth twitching with amusement, but Martha managed to keep her expression under control as she sympathised with Harry.
"I'm sure a brave sailor like you will manage," she said, teasing him just a little.
He gave her an uncertain look, as if he wasn't sure whether she was teasing or mocking him, but she gave him a warm smile and he immediately blushed.
"Better do as the old man asked," Benton advised him, "and I'll take Dr Jones to see the Brigadier."
Harry heaved himself out of his chair. "If he ties me up again, I'll - " He broke off as if aware there was very little he could do in such circumstances. He nodded to Martha. "I will see you later Dr Jones."
Martha got to her feet also. "I hope so, Dr Sullivan." Then she ruined the formality of their parting by stretching up to kiss his cheek, giving him a wink before she headed out of the door, leaving Harry and Benton staring at each other in surprise while the rest of the soldiers cheered and whistled.
"I say!" exclaimed Harry, both pleased and embarrassed. Benton gave him a grin, then hurried after Martha who he found looking rather embarrassed as she waited outside the canteen for him, having realised she needed Benton to escort her to the Brigadier's office.
"If you don't mind me saying so, Miss, you seem to cause quite a stir whenever you turn up," observed the Sergeant as they set off down the corridor. He sneaked a sidelong glance at Martha's face and saw she was looking both embarrassed and amused.
"I do, don't I?" she agreed. "I hope the men won't rib Harry too much about that."
Benton chuckled. "I daresay they will, but I'm sure he'd rather be teased about being kissed by a pretty girl than about being tied up in a cupboard by the Doctor, so you've done him a favour really."
"Good." She smiled with satisfaction. "By the way, the last time I saw you there was a big flap on - what was it all about?"
"Oh the boss of International Electronics, the really big electronics firm, was in league with the Cybermen and they tried to invade."
"Cybermen," Martha said quietly, shuddering a little at the name.
"You all right Miss?" Benton asked anxiously. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
She nodded. "I'm okay, thank you John. Sorry, I shouldn't call you John, should I?"
"I don't mind," he answered truthfully. "Here's the Brigadier's office." He knocked and they were bidden to enter.
"Ah Dr Jones, have a seat," invited the Brigadier. "That will be all for now, Sergeant."
"Yes sir." Benton nodded to Martha, who gave him a smile, before turning her attention to the Brigadier."
* * * * * *
On Skra
Slavin dumped the Doctor's unconscious body on the floor in the corner of his cell, then stalked out.
A few minutes later the Time Lord came to with a groan, his eyes screwed shut against the pain that was wracking his body. It felt as if Slavin had broken at least two ribs this session; that was in addition to breaking all the fingers on his right hand, and it felt like he had two black eyes to go with his broken nose and split lips. He wondered how much more his body could take before it succumbed to his injuries: the prospect of being forced to regenerate with neither the TARDIS nor friends on hand to help him was a far more terrifying prospect than anything he had considered just recently.
Then another, more frightening idea occurred to the Doctor: what if the Black Guardian had Slavin torture him to death until he could no longer regenerate? He couldn't help whimpering a little at this thought, and he curled himself up as far as possible, lost in black despair for a while.
As he lay there longing for a friendly voice or face an image of Martha swam into his mind: she was dressed as when he'd last seen her in Cardiff, wearing a dark red t-shirt, black trousers and her black jacket. She had a determined expression on her face and was strapping something to her wrist. With a jolt of surprised disbelief he suddenly recognised the device as Jack's wrist computer, and with that realisation a flood of memories filled his head: Martha Jones using Jack's Vortex manipulator to jump through Time and Space as she searched for him.
He remembered how comforting her presence had been after he'd parted company with Jo; how taken Harry Sullivan and Sergeant Benton had both been with her, and the Brigadier's intense pride in her as he'd argued with his fourth incarnation: she'd arrived only a short time after he'd regenerated into that scarf-wearing fellow with the bulging eyes and booming voice. Then he remembered how gentle and patient she'd been with his needy ninth self.
"Oh Martha," he whispered, as he remembered the way that she'd encouraged him to ask Rose to travel with him, and how had he repaid her for that life-saving suggestion? By constantly carping on about how wonderful Rose was once Martha was travelling with him.
He pulled himself up into a sitting position, resting his arms on his bent knees, and silently berated himself for his blind stupidity. Martha Jones had been consistently loyal, brave, patient and generous to him, and he'd treated her so badly; he really didn't deserve to have her friendship.
He heard the door of his cell open again and raised his head to look at Slavin through eyes that were half-closed by the beating he'd received.
His torturer set down a tray on the floor just inside the door, then went back out without a word: he seemed content to simply leer nastily at the Time Lord.
The Doctor waited until Slavin's footsteps had faded, then got up cautiously and made his way over to the door. The tray held the usual fare: a bowl of thin, grey gruel, a slab of very dry bread and a jug half full of ice-cold water.
Grimacing in disgust, the Doctor forced himself to eat, although he struggled with the bread even after he'd set it in the empty bowl and poured some water over it in an attempt to make it softer. He tried not to think longingly of thick, meaty stews, bread fresh from the oven, or full-bodied wines: that would be as much like torture as Slavin's attentions.
He tried, also, not to wonder where Martha was now: he had remembered that she was searching for him, but even if she did manage to find him, he wasn't sure what good it would do him. He was quite certain that Slavin and the Black Guardian would both do their utmost to ensure that Martha could not get him away again, and the thought of Slavin torturing Martha made his stomach churn so much that he nearly threw up.
With a groan of despair he moved back across the cell and tried to lose himself in sleep, anything to stop his thoughts racing about like so many demented hamsters on wheels.
The Doctor fell into an uneasy sleep punctuated by dreams of Martha being tortured to death by Slavin and he woke abruptly with a cry of horror to find his torturer standing over him, ready to start a fresh round of torment.
* * * * * *
On Earth
Martha was sitting alone in the Brigadier's office when the door opened and a brown-haired young woman in a blue outfit entered, and she found herself confronting a young Sarah Jane Smith.
"Hello. The Brigadier thought you might like some company until the Doctor's ready to see you." She crossed the room and held out a hand to Martha, who barely restrained herself from leaping up and hugging the young journalist.
Instead, she stood up and shook hands, then gestured for Sarah Jane to take her seat.
"I'll be fine here," she said, perching on the edge of the Brigadier's desk, and giving Martha an expectant look.
"The Brigadier says you're a companion of the Doctor from the future?"
Martha nodded, immediately noticing how curious the other woman looked. "I'm from the 21st century," she said.
"Does everyone there have hover cars and jetpacks yet?" asked Sarah Jane eagerly.
Martha couldn't help laughing a little at that. "Sorry no, not yet. We've got other advanced technology, but not those."
"Oh well, never mind. What's he like, your Doctor?"
The young doctor chewed at her lip thoughtfully, wondering what to say; when Jo had asked her, she hadn't thought about not telling her, but she knew that Sarah Jane would be meeting the Doctor in his current incarnation at least twice: once when he was travelling with Rose, and again when the Daleks tried to destroy the universe.
Sarah Jane must have guessed why she was hesitating, because she spoke again. "Don't worry, I'll forget whatever you tell me - the Doctor's promised to make us all forget about meeting you in order to preserve the timelines."
Martha shrugged. "He's tall, not quite as tall as this one, I think, but much skinnier. He wears a suit and tie with Converse baseball boots. He's got brown eyes and wild brown hair that's always in disarray, which he makes worse by ruffling when he's thinking or agitated about something."
"Skinny, is he?" asked Sarah Jane musingly.
"Like a rake," Martha said, "but he's very strong - that sort of wiry strength you often find in tall, skinny men."
"How long did you travel with him?"
"For a while, but not as long as I might have done. I was a medical student when we met and I wanted to go back to finish my studies after I had spent so many years training to be a doctor."
"Am I still around?" asked Sarah Jane tentatively.
Martha nodded. "Oh yes, and you'd met my Doctor at least twice that I know about by the time that I began this search."
"Are we friends then?"
"Yes we are," Martha said fervently. "The second time that you met my Doctor is when you and I met for the first time in my timeline, and we became friends as a result. In fact, you helped me to come looking for the Doctor I know."
"Really?" Martha nodded. "Good." Martha noticed Sarah Jane sounded satisfied by this information.
The door opened again and the young journalist quickly slipped down off the Brigadier's desk as he came in, accompanied by the Doctor.
Martha immediately stood up, noticing that the Time Lord looked considerably more friendly than he had when she'd arrived.
"Dr Jones." He doffed his hat to her, then strode over and shook hands with her.
"Hello Doctor." She looked up at him a little warily.
"I've kept you waiting around, for which I should apologise, but if you're ready, I'll sort out your wrist computer and you needn't hang around any longer."
"Thank you."
"Miss Smith, perhaps you would come and have a word with Lieutenant Sullivan before he heads off to Think Tank?" asked the Brigadier.
Sarah Jane raised her eyebrows, then nodded. "Very well. It was nice meeting you Martha. I'm glad we'll be friends in the future."
She ignored the Doctor's harrumph at this remark, and gave the young woman a quick hug before she went out.
The Brigadier shook hands with Martha. "Good to see you again, Dr Jones. Take care of your shoulder and keep up the good work."
Martha saluted him and he touched the end of his swagger stick to the peak of his cap in acknowledgement before following Sarah Jane, leaving Martha alone with the Doctor.
"I'm sorry I nearly caused you to crash earlier," she offered.
"Not your fault," he answered gruffly as he pulled his sonic screwdriver from the pocket of his red coat.
She unstrapped Jack's wrist computer, wondering if he was going to be the only incarnation who wasn't going to take to her, and she wondered also if the Doctor was always so grumpy after regenerating.
"It's not your fault," he told her as she handed over Jack's device.
"What isn't?" she asked, confused.
"That I remembered you. Although - " He broke off and she gave him an expectant look.
"My third incarnation was a bit sentimental about his companions and he didn't want to forget what you were doing because you were such good company to him after Jo decided to stay with Professor Jones. The second one erased his memories, but forgot to erase the Brigadier's and Benton's, which was extremely careless."
He looked up suddenly from fiddling with the controls and pinned Martha with a piercing look. "What you're doing on behalf of my later self goes far beyond anything I've experienced with any of my companions so far. To risk all the dangers of travelling through the Time Vortex with only this thing to protect you requires incredible courage and demonstrates great loyalty to me. However, it is also the most foolhardy enterprise that you or anyone could ever engage in."
Martha folded her arms across her chest, giving him a rather cross look, and he grinned suddenly, startling her.
"You're a formidable young woman, Dr Jones. I hope I deserve your loyalty and courage, because I'd hate to think you were wasting it on some worthless fellow who didn't appreciate you."
"That's for me to know and you to find out," she answered.
He laughed suddenly, a rich, booming laugh that made Martha smile in spite of herself.
"Good answer."
He finished fiddling and held out the wrist computer, waiting while she strapped it in place again.
"I hope I will properly express my gratitude to you when you find me," he told her. "I'm only sorry I have to make everyone forget meeting you, but I can't risk their knowledge of future events damaging the timelines."
He gave her a solemn look, and she suddenly sensed what a huge responsibility it was being a Time Lord, even if you weren't the last of your kind.
"It doesn't do for anyone to know too much about their future, even me."
"I understand," Martha assured him, "maybe not as well as you do, given my limited human brain, but I understand why you have to do it, and why, when I met your future incarnation for the first time, you had no recollection of the previous occasions when we'd met before."
He stood up, and Martha did too, offering a hand for him to shake, but he shook his head and pulled her into a hug.
"Thank you for being so patient with this grumpy Time Lord," he said, "and thank you for being such a good friend to me Martha Jones."
"You're welcome," she assured him, meaning it.
"Right, you must be on your way, and I must go and see a man about a seven foot robot."
Martha laughed softly, then adjusted the settings on the wrist computer. Her last sight of this Doctor was him waving his hat to her before she was whirled away.
Title: A Shift in Perspective (6/10)
Author: Persiflage_1
Characters/Pairings: Martha, Fourth Doctor, Tenth Doctor, UNIT, Sarah Jane, Black Guardian
Rating: PG (Rated for violence)
Spoilers: Robot, Season 3, The Stolen Earth
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 sixth chapter in a ten chapter story that's set a couple of months after S4. Credit goes to box_in_the_box for suggesting the villain of the piece.
Many thanks to my Beta readers for this chapter: ladymako71 and most especially shadowturquoise, who has done sterling work in making sure this didn't utterly suck!
Index Post
~~~~~~
On Skra
The Doctor looked up into the deeply lined imperturbable face of the Black Guardian, taking in the half-forgotten sight of the raven headdress and the glossy, ermined-lined black robes that the other wore.
"You were warned," the Black Guardian said, his rumbling voice seeming to echo through Time, "that thwarting me again would leave me angrier than before. Now you will pay for your previous insolence. I am only sorry that your foolish companions, the boy and the girl, are not here also to receive their just punishment."
The Doctor's mind flashed back to the last time that he'd seen Turlough and Tegan, and he blinked hard, forcing down his emotions.
"Personally, I'm glad they're not here," the Time Lord said.
The Black Guardian sneered. "You always did have an alarmingly high tolerance for those of the lesser races, like Trions and Humans. I never did understand why you bothered with them."
"The Doctor scowled. "I'm not surprised, You don't see the value of much besides chaos, disorder and darkness. You can't keep me here, you know."
"Oh, but I can. No one except we three knows where you are - and even you don't know your exact location."
"It doesn't matter," the Time Lord asserted confidently. "There are people out there who know I'm missing, people who care enough to come looking for me."
The Black Guardian laughed mirthlessly. "Even if anyone should succeed in finding you, which you should not count on, it will do you no good Doctor. I will not be letting you or anyone else leave here alive. Accept the facts, Doctor, your days are numbered and Slavin here will ensure that the few that remain are as unpleasant as possible. Believe me when I say that you will regret thwarting me, Time Lord, you just won't have long to live with those regrets.
He turned and stalked away, disappearing through the wall, rather than pretending to use the door as he had before.
Slavin gave the Doctor a vicious smile before backhanding him so hard that he blacked out.
* * * * * *
On Earth
Martha's next jump was greeted with a squeal of brakes and shouts of alarm, and she opened her eyes in time to see an open-backed jeep containing three men hurtling past her towards the steep grassy bank at the side of the road. The driver hauled madly on the wheel and managed to avoid crashing, but he scraped the wing of the jeep along the grass before stopping.
She stumbled forward on still-shaky legs to be confronted by an angry-looking man with wild curly hair and bulging eyes, who was wearing a brown hat and a ridiculously long scarf, and she knew he must be the Doctor. Then she spotted the other two men over his shoulder and gasped when she realised one of them was Brigadier Lethbridge-Stewart, a few years older than when she'd seen him just now. She didn't know the second man, but did notice that he was wearing a navy blue jacket and a peaked cap, and she felt her heart speed up a little at the sight of him.
"You again!" exclaimed the Doctor once he was in hailing distance.
Martha blinked, surprised: this was the first time that any of the Doctor's incarnations had recognised her, and she felt rather disconcerted.
"Doctor. Brigadier. Lieutenant." She had to quickly shuffle through her knowledge of ranks and the sleeve stripes used to denote them before she acknowledged the third man, who was staring at her open-mouthed in astonishment, presumably because of her dramatic arrival.
"Dr Jones," the Brigadier acknowledged, apparently as imperturbable as ever.
Martha couldn't help saluting him, even though he wasn't her commanding officer.
"This is Lieutenant Harry Sullivan, UNIT's current MO." The Brigadier turned to the sailor. "This is Dr Martha Jones, UNIT's MO in the early 21st century."
"You're a time-traveller too?" asked Harry as he shook hands.
"At the moment," she answered, watching the Doctor from the corner of her eye: she thought he didn't look very pleased to see her.
"You'd better get in," the Time Lord said, gesturing at the jeep.
"Thank you." She followed the three men over to the vehicle.
"You had better travel in the front with the Doctor," the Brigadier said as the Time Lord swung himself into the driver's seat.
"I'll be fine in the back, thank you." She smiled up at him and he gave her the tiniest of winks.
"May I offer you some assistance?" asked Harry, with what Martha considered to be old-fashioned courtesy.
"Thanks, but I can manage," she assured him, before expertly swinging herself up into the back of the jeep.
"Oh I say," murmured Harry, before joining her.
"How is your shoulder Dr Jones?" called the Brigadier from the front of the jeep as the Doctor started it up again.
"Still a bit stiff and achy," she told him, "but I'll live."
"You must let Dr Sullivan look at it before you go off again," the Brigadier said.
"What happened to your shoulder?" asked Harry curiously.
"I got shot by one of the Brigadier's men," she told him.
"Oh my!" He looked quite horrified by this revelation and Martha found herself wondering just how much experience he had as UNIT's MO if he was so easily shocked.
The journey passed without conversation since the jeep was quite noisy, particularly given the speed at which the Doctor was driving.
When they reached UNIT HQ they were met by a harassed-looking Sergeant Benton who couldn't help doing a double take at the sight of Martha, but he didn't otherwise acknowledge her presence, instead hurrying after the Doctor who had stalked off down the corridor, his scarf trailing behind him like a bizarre sort of wedding train.
The Brigadier turned to Martha and Harry. "Sullivan, why don't you take Dr Jones to the sick bay and check her shoulder wound, and then go down to the canteen for something to eat. Come and see me in my office afterwards, and in the meantime I'll talk to the Doctor." He spoke confidentially to Martha. "He's just regenerated and he's a bit tetchy about that and the current case."
She nodded her understanding.
"Sullivan here will look after you." He turned to Harry. "Dr Jones is on a very important mission and it's vital that she receives the best possible care for the sake of everyone."
Martha felt her cheeks heating up at the Brigadier's words, and hoped her darker skin would hide her blushes.
"Oh golly!" said Harry, directing an awed look at her.
"So I'm entrusting Dr Jones to your care, Sullivan."
Harry gave the Brigadier a smart salute, then turned to Martha and offered her his arm, which she accepted, suppressing a smile. The Brigadier strode off down the corridor that the Doctor and Sergeant Benton had taken, but Harry led Martha down a different corridor.
"So you're a naval officer?" Martha asked. "Doesn't that get confusing - I mean, do I address you as Doctor or Lieutenant?"
He gave her a warm smile. "I don't mind," he told her, "but you could - " He stopped suddenly, looking faintly embarrassed.
"I could what?" asked Martha, thinking First Sergeant Benton, now Dr Sullivan, and wondering why she seemed to fluster these UNIT men. She could have understood it if she was as pretty as Tish: her elder sister only had to look at a man to make him go weak at the knees.
"You could call me Harry," he said in a rush. "If you don't think that's too forward of me, Dr Jones?"
"I tell you what, I'll call you Harry if you'll call me Martha," she suggested, grinning.
He tugged at the collar of his shirt as if it was suddenly too tight, then agreed. "The sick bay is in here," he told her, stopping and opening a swing door, then gesturing for her to precede him.
Martha stepped through the doors and looked around, noting that it didn't look too dissimilar to the various UNIT infirmaries in which she had worked.
"It's all a bit outdated to you, I expect," Harry said.
"Actually early 21st century medical equipment isn't vastly different, we just use a lot more computers and computerised equipment than you do."
She thought fleetingly of the really advanced equipment that had been destroyed by the Daleks when they had stormed the UNIT HQ in Manhattan. Equipment could be replaced, of course, unlike personnel, and for all he'd been a bit sarcastic and tetchy, Martha had liked General Sanchez, and deeply regretted his death by the Daleks while she had escaped. It had been too much like people dying on her behalf during that awful year.
Martha blinked, forcing those memories back behind their walls and looked up to see Harry gazing at her, an expression of concern on his face.
"I say, are you all right?" he asked anxiously.
"Yes," she answered, "just remembering something."
He guided her over to one of the beds and she sat down a little heavily, removing her coat while Harry pulled the privacy curtains around the bed, even though the sick bay was currently empty.
"May I?" he asked, gesturing at the dressing on her shoulder, and she noticed that his tone and manner had become brisk and professional now.
She nodded, and tried not to start or shiver when he touched her shoulder, but she did grit her teeth when he began to unpeel the dressing.
"How exactly did this happen?" he asked, peering closely at the neat stitching. "You said you were shot by one of the Brigadier's men."
"I've been jumping through Time and Space, trying to find the incarnation of the Doctor I know, and on my last jump I landed in a mobile UNIT HQ in the midst of yet another crisis - probably an attempted alien invasion. Since, as you saw, I tend to appear abruptly out of nowhere, one of the Brigadier's men reacted too quickly, despite the Doctor's instructions not to shoot, so he fired and I was hit."
"That must have been terrifying," Harry said sympathetically.
Martha laughed softly. "How long have you been working with UNIT Dr Sullivan?"
He gave her a puzzled look. "A little while."
"Well when you've been working them for some time, you'll soon find that being shot is probably a lot less terrifying than it seems, at least compared to all the other things that could happen to you while you're out in the field."
He glanced at her as he finished redressing her shoulder. "How long have you worked for UNIT?"
"About 18 months, but I travelled with the Doctor before that and I gained a lot of field experience - that's how I ended up with UNIT." She gave him a slightly brittle smile. "After all I'd seen and done, I couldn't really imagine settling down to a regular career."
She pulled the strap back up on her vest top, then put on her jacket before giving him an expectant look.
"Ah yes," he said, remembering the rest of the Brigadier's instructions for Martha's 'care'.
She followed him out of the sick bay and through the maze of corridors to the canteen.
"I always wonder why they insisted on building this place with so many corridors," Harry commented as he opened the canteen door and waited for Martha to go in.
"It's to confuse the enemy, should they infiltrate: the intention is that an enemy will lose their way before they reach any strategically significant areas," Martha answered almost absent-mindedly as she noticed the handful of soldiers who all looked up at her entrance, who were now staring at her with ill-disguised interest.
She saw Harry staring impassively at them, and everyone's attention quickly went back to whatever they'd been doing before she had walked in with him.
He led her over to the counter and got them a pot of tea and a plate of sandwiches, and Martha abruptly remembered there were still two slices of cake in her jacket pocket. She swallowed a lump of emotion at the thought of the Doctor's eighth incarnation, so gentle and caring, and with such horrors still to come. Walking away from him had been the hardest decision she'd made since embarking on this quest, even though he hadn't been vulnerable like the third, or broken and needy like the ninth.
"Martha. Dr Jones?"
She suddenly realised Harry was talking to her, his expression anxious as he peered at her across the table.
"Sorry, you were saying?"
"I just wanted to know how you take your tea?" he asked.
"Oh, milk and two sugars please." She rubbed a hand over her face, realising that this search for 'her' Doctor was proving to be emotionally as well as physically challenging, which she hadn't anticipated when she'd insisted to Jack that she should be the one to look for the Doctor.
Martha accepted the mug of tea that Harry gave her and sought for a topic of conversation that would distract her from her memories. Before she could think of anything, Sergeant Benton hurried into the canteen and quickly joined them.
"I say, old chap, are you all right?" asked Harry in some concern, seeing how harried Benton looked.
He nodded. "It's the Doctor. He's in a bit of a tear. Apparently Miss Smith isn't back yet from her visit to that Think Tank lot, and he wants her for something. And - " He hesitated, looking away from Martha's steady gaze.
"And he's not happy to see me, is he?" she guessed.
"It's not exactly that, Miss. It's just that he remembers meeting you before, and he was muttering something about his earlier incarnations being sentimental old fools, especially the last one." He shifted uncomfortably in his chair. "Apparently you met him after Miss Grant announced her engagement?"
Martha nodded. "Perhaps I should go and see him, get it over with?" she suggested.
"I don't think the Brigadier feels that's a good idea, Miss. He suggested that I escort you to his office once you're suitably refreshed, and that Dr Sullivan goes to see the Doctor."
"Me? Oh I say!" Harry looked rather alarmed at the idea, which surprised Martha.
"He's not likely to be violent, is he?"
"Oh no, I shouldn't think so," answered Harry hastily. "It's just that, well, he tied me up and hung me in a cupboard the last time I tried to assert my medical authority over him.
Benton looked away, his mouth twitching with amusement, but Martha managed to keep her expression under control as she sympathised with Harry.
"I'm sure a brave sailor like you will manage," she said, teasing him just a little.
He gave her an uncertain look, as if he wasn't sure whether she was teasing or mocking him, but she gave him a warm smile and he immediately blushed.
"Better do as the old man asked," Benton advised him, "and I'll take Dr Jones to see the Brigadier."
Harry heaved himself out of his chair. "If he ties me up again, I'll - " He broke off as if aware there was very little he could do in such circumstances. He nodded to Martha. "I will see you later Dr Jones."
Martha got to her feet also. "I hope so, Dr Sullivan." Then she ruined the formality of their parting by stretching up to kiss his cheek, giving him a wink before she headed out of the door, leaving Harry and Benton staring at each other in surprise while the rest of the soldiers cheered and whistled.
"I say!" exclaimed Harry, both pleased and embarrassed. Benton gave him a grin, then hurried after Martha who he found looking rather embarrassed as she waited outside the canteen for him, having realised she needed Benton to escort her to the Brigadier's office.
"If you don't mind me saying so, Miss, you seem to cause quite a stir whenever you turn up," observed the Sergeant as they set off down the corridor. He sneaked a sidelong glance at Martha's face and saw she was looking both embarrassed and amused.
"I do, don't I?" she agreed. "I hope the men won't rib Harry too much about that."
Benton chuckled. "I daresay they will, but I'm sure he'd rather be teased about being kissed by a pretty girl than about being tied up in a cupboard by the Doctor, so you've done him a favour really."
"Good." She smiled with satisfaction. "By the way, the last time I saw you there was a big flap on - what was it all about?"
"Oh the boss of International Electronics, the really big electronics firm, was in league with the Cybermen and they tried to invade."
"Cybermen," Martha said quietly, shuddering a little at the name.
"You all right Miss?" Benton asked anxiously. "You look like you've seen a ghost."
She nodded. "I'm okay, thank you John. Sorry, I shouldn't call you John, should I?"
"I don't mind," he answered truthfully. "Here's the Brigadier's office." He knocked and they were bidden to enter.
"Ah Dr Jones, have a seat," invited the Brigadier. "That will be all for now, Sergeant."
"Yes sir." Benton nodded to Martha, who gave him a smile, before turning her attention to the Brigadier."
* * * * * *
On Skra
Slavin dumped the Doctor's unconscious body on the floor in the corner of his cell, then stalked out.
A few minutes later the Time Lord came to with a groan, his eyes screwed shut against the pain that was wracking his body. It felt as if Slavin had broken at least two ribs this session; that was in addition to breaking all the fingers on his right hand, and it felt like he had two black eyes to go with his broken nose and split lips. He wondered how much more his body could take before it succumbed to his injuries: the prospect of being forced to regenerate with neither the TARDIS nor friends on hand to help him was a far more terrifying prospect than anything he had considered just recently.
Then another, more frightening idea occurred to the Doctor: what if the Black Guardian had Slavin torture him to death until he could no longer regenerate? He couldn't help whimpering a little at this thought, and he curled himself up as far as possible, lost in black despair for a while.
As he lay there longing for a friendly voice or face an image of Martha swam into his mind: she was dressed as when he'd last seen her in Cardiff, wearing a dark red t-shirt, black trousers and her black jacket. She had a determined expression on her face and was strapping something to her wrist. With a jolt of surprised disbelief he suddenly recognised the device as Jack's wrist computer, and with that realisation a flood of memories filled his head: Martha Jones using Jack's Vortex manipulator to jump through Time and Space as she searched for him.
He remembered how comforting her presence had been after he'd parted company with Jo; how taken Harry Sullivan and Sergeant Benton had both been with her, and the Brigadier's intense pride in her as he'd argued with his fourth incarnation: she'd arrived only a short time after he'd regenerated into that scarf-wearing fellow with the bulging eyes and booming voice. Then he remembered how gentle and patient she'd been with his needy ninth self.
"Oh Martha," he whispered, as he remembered the way that she'd encouraged him to ask Rose to travel with him, and how had he repaid her for that life-saving suggestion? By constantly carping on about how wonderful Rose was once Martha was travelling with him.
He pulled himself up into a sitting position, resting his arms on his bent knees, and silently berated himself for his blind stupidity. Martha Jones had been consistently loyal, brave, patient and generous to him, and he'd treated her so badly; he really didn't deserve to have her friendship.
He heard the door of his cell open again and raised his head to look at Slavin through eyes that were half-closed by the beating he'd received.
His torturer set down a tray on the floor just inside the door, then went back out without a word: he seemed content to simply leer nastily at the Time Lord.
The Doctor waited until Slavin's footsteps had faded, then got up cautiously and made his way over to the door. The tray held the usual fare: a bowl of thin, grey gruel, a slab of very dry bread and a jug half full of ice-cold water.
Grimacing in disgust, the Doctor forced himself to eat, although he struggled with the bread even after he'd set it in the empty bowl and poured some water over it in an attempt to make it softer. He tried not to think longingly of thick, meaty stews, bread fresh from the oven, or full-bodied wines: that would be as much like torture as Slavin's attentions.
He tried, also, not to wonder where Martha was now: he had remembered that she was searching for him, but even if she did manage to find him, he wasn't sure what good it would do him. He was quite certain that Slavin and the Black Guardian would both do their utmost to ensure that Martha could not get him away again, and the thought of Slavin torturing Martha made his stomach churn so much that he nearly threw up.
With a groan of despair he moved back across the cell and tried to lose himself in sleep, anything to stop his thoughts racing about like so many demented hamsters on wheels.
The Doctor fell into an uneasy sleep punctuated by dreams of Martha being tortured to death by Slavin and he woke abruptly with a cry of horror to find his torturer standing over him, ready to start a fresh round of torment.
* * * * * *
On Earth
Martha was sitting alone in the Brigadier's office when the door opened and a brown-haired young woman in a blue outfit entered, and she found herself confronting a young Sarah Jane Smith.
"Hello. The Brigadier thought you might like some company until the Doctor's ready to see you." She crossed the room and held out a hand to Martha, who barely restrained herself from leaping up and hugging the young journalist.
Instead, she stood up and shook hands, then gestured for Sarah Jane to take her seat.
"I'll be fine here," she said, perching on the edge of the Brigadier's desk, and giving Martha an expectant look.
"The Brigadier says you're a companion of the Doctor from the future?"
Martha nodded, immediately noticing how curious the other woman looked. "I'm from the 21st century," she said.
"Does everyone there have hover cars and jetpacks yet?" asked Sarah Jane eagerly.
Martha couldn't help laughing a little at that. "Sorry no, not yet. We've got other advanced technology, but not those."
"Oh well, never mind. What's he like, your Doctor?"
The young doctor chewed at her lip thoughtfully, wondering what to say; when Jo had asked her, she hadn't thought about not telling her, but she knew that Sarah Jane would be meeting the Doctor in his current incarnation at least twice: once when he was travelling with Rose, and again when the Daleks tried to destroy the universe.
Sarah Jane must have guessed why she was hesitating, because she spoke again. "Don't worry, I'll forget whatever you tell me - the Doctor's promised to make us all forget about meeting you in order to preserve the timelines."
Martha shrugged. "He's tall, not quite as tall as this one, I think, but much skinnier. He wears a suit and tie with Converse baseball boots. He's got brown eyes and wild brown hair that's always in disarray, which he makes worse by ruffling when he's thinking or agitated about something."
"Skinny, is he?" asked Sarah Jane musingly.
"Like a rake," Martha said, "but he's very strong - that sort of wiry strength you often find in tall, skinny men."
"How long did you travel with him?"
"For a while, but not as long as I might have done. I was a medical student when we met and I wanted to go back to finish my studies after I had spent so many years training to be a doctor."
"Am I still around?" asked Sarah Jane tentatively.
Martha nodded. "Oh yes, and you'd met my Doctor at least twice that I know about by the time that I began this search."
"Are we friends then?"
"Yes we are," Martha said fervently. "The second time that you met my Doctor is when you and I met for the first time in my timeline, and we became friends as a result. In fact, you helped me to come looking for the Doctor I know."
"Really?" Martha nodded. "Good." Martha noticed Sarah Jane sounded satisfied by this information.
The door opened again and the young journalist quickly slipped down off the Brigadier's desk as he came in, accompanied by the Doctor.
Martha immediately stood up, noticing that the Time Lord looked considerably more friendly than he had when she'd arrived.
"Dr Jones." He doffed his hat to her, then strode over and shook hands with her.
"Hello Doctor." She looked up at him a little warily.
"I've kept you waiting around, for which I should apologise, but if you're ready, I'll sort out your wrist computer and you needn't hang around any longer."
"Thank you."
"Miss Smith, perhaps you would come and have a word with Lieutenant Sullivan before he heads off to Think Tank?" asked the Brigadier.
Sarah Jane raised her eyebrows, then nodded. "Very well. It was nice meeting you Martha. I'm glad we'll be friends in the future."
She ignored the Doctor's harrumph at this remark, and gave the young woman a quick hug before she went out.
The Brigadier shook hands with Martha. "Good to see you again, Dr Jones. Take care of your shoulder and keep up the good work."
Martha saluted him and he touched the end of his swagger stick to the peak of his cap in acknowledgement before following Sarah Jane, leaving Martha alone with the Doctor.
"I'm sorry I nearly caused you to crash earlier," she offered.
"Not your fault," he answered gruffly as he pulled his sonic screwdriver from the pocket of his red coat.
She unstrapped Jack's wrist computer, wondering if he was going to be the only incarnation who wasn't going to take to her, and she wondered also if the Doctor was always so grumpy after regenerating.
"It's not your fault," he told her as she handed over Jack's device.
"What isn't?" she asked, confused.
"That I remembered you. Although - " He broke off and she gave him an expectant look.
"My third incarnation was a bit sentimental about his companions and he didn't want to forget what you were doing because you were such good company to him after Jo decided to stay with Professor Jones. The second one erased his memories, but forgot to erase the Brigadier's and Benton's, which was extremely careless."
He looked up suddenly from fiddling with the controls and pinned Martha with a piercing look. "What you're doing on behalf of my later self goes far beyond anything I've experienced with any of my companions so far. To risk all the dangers of travelling through the Time Vortex with only this thing to protect you requires incredible courage and demonstrates great loyalty to me. However, it is also the most foolhardy enterprise that you or anyone could ever engage in."
Martha folded her arms across her chest, giving him a rather cross look, and he grinned suddenly, startling her.
"You're a formidable young woman, Dr Jones. I hope I deserve your loyalty and courage, because I'd hate to think you were wasting it on some worthless fellow who didn't appreciate you."
"That's for me to know and you to find out," she answered.
He laughed suddenly, a rich, booming laugh that made Martha smile in spite of herself.
"Good answer."
He finished fiddling and held out the wrist computer, waiting while she strapped it in place again.
"I hope I will properly express my gratitude to you when you find me," he told her. "I'm only sorry I have to make everyone forget meeting you, but I can't risk their knowledge of future events damaging the timelines."
He gave her a solemn look, and she suddenly sensed what a huge responsibility it was being a Time Lord, even if you weren't the last of your kind.
"It doesn't do for anyone to know too much about their future, even me."
"I understand," Martha assured him, "maybe not as well as you do, given my limited human brain, but I understand why you have to do it, and why, when I met your future incarnation for the first time, you had no recollection of the previous occasions when we'd met before."
He stood up, and Martha did too, offering a hand for him to shake, but he shook his head and pulled her into a hug.
"Thank you for being so patient with this grumpy Time Lord," he said, "and thank you for being such a good friend to me Martha Jones."
"You're welcome," she assured him, meaning it.
"Right, you must be on your way, and I must go and see a man about a seven foot robot."
Martha laughed softly, then adjusted the settings on the wrist computer. Her last sight of this Doctor was him waving his hat to her before she was whirled away.