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Chapter Text

David sat on the floor, his stubby little legs splayed out in front of him, as he watched the telly. It was absolutely his favorite show, the one with the brave Doctor and his faithful companions flying through space and time, battling monsters and ruining the plans of evil humans and aliens. He especially loved the monsters. His friends were always scared of them and hid behind the sofa to watch, but he was fascinated with them and stayed right there on the floor through the whole programme.

As soon as the closing theme started to play, he jumped up and ran over to his Da, who always watched with him, begging him to get up and play. "You're the Doctor and I wanna fight aliens with you!"

Da smiled fondly at his little boy. "And what monsters do you see on the scanner?"

"Ma's a Zygon!"

"Oh, no! Well, we better investigate. But Ma's not back from the store yet."

"We can make a trap for her."

"We could! Let’s fly to the kitchen, to the time when she gets here!" Rising from his chair, he bent down and swept his son up onto his shoulders, and spun around, David whooping with laughter. He ran around the room until the boy could barely breathe, then, dashing to the kitchen, swung him down and deposited him back on the floor.

David giggled until he was finally able to catch his breath. "Da?"

"Yah?"

"I wanna go with the Doctor. Can I meet him?"

"Well, David, he's just a person on the telly."

"Yah. So you can take me there?"

Da knelt down in front of his son. "No, I can't take you to meet the Doctor. You see, he's not really the Doctor. He's a man pretending to be the Doctor. He's called an actor, and his name is really Jon Pertwee."

David was crestfallen. "He's not the Doctor? Why does he pretend?"

"It's because he wants to tell a story to you. All of them on the telly are actors, and they're pretending to be other people to tell you a story. Do you like the stories they tell?"

David brightened. "Yah!"

"See? That's why they pretend. To make you and everyone happy."

David's face broke into a brilliant smile. "Then that's what I want to do, too! I want to tell people stories! I want to be an ac-tor!"

. _ . _ . _ . _ .

The first hour of a long drive was always the hardest: the part during which it always looked like you weren't making any progress. Now that he'd left the edges of Cardiff and was driving in the country, David felt far more comfortable. It was still a considerable time until he made it to Birmingham, but at least now he felt more relaxed. Rain began to splatter heavily across the windscreen, and he switched the wipers on high.

He'd been looking forward to this weekend, the first he'd been out of Cardiff in a while. Just today, he'd finished filming the first of the four specials for this year of Doctor Who, and now he would be spending the weekend with a friend he hadn’t seen in a while. He'd have to go to some family party or somesuch with him on Saturday, but other than that, they'd just be hanging out - something he hadn’t had the luxury to do in a quite a while. A tinge of apprehension made him swallow nervously. The jacket he was wearing was fine for the party, but the Star Wars t-shirt and faded jeans wouldn't do. He hoped he had remembered to pack a nice shirt and trousers; he’d hate to have spend Saturday morning shopping.

The quiet of the long drive gave him time to think more about his recent career decisions. He'd decided to give up the role of the Doctor while he was still enjoying playing it, rather than waiting until it got dull or people wanted him to leave, but, as filming began on his final episodes, he’d begun to wonder if he'd made the right decision. The show's popularity was at an all-time high, and that's always a great boost to a career. But he wanted to do other things, things that the long, high-pressure television shooting schedule made impossible. For example, he was going to play Hamlet at the Royal Shakespeare Company, which was something he'd always wanted to do, as well as a return to the stage, his first love. He wouldn't have been able to do that if he was still involved with Doctor Who. Still, he was leaving the role he'd dreamed of since he was a kid. He was convinced he was making the right decision, but there was always that tiny voice in his mind screaming, "Are you mental? You want to be the Doctor!"

There were other benefits to leaving the show. He wouldn't have to spend a major part of his time in Cardiff, which meant he could be in London, where Georgia lived. He had only met her last year, when she played the Doctor's daughter, Jenny, but they'd hit it off very well. Living over half of the year in Cardiff, he hadn’t tried to start anything with her, as a relationship would be neither easy or nor fair to her, but returning to London gave him the opportunity to consider a move in that direction.

As the car came around a wide turn, David noticed the tail lights of the cars ahead were arranged in a strange pattern, but the downpour made it difficult to make it out. Then he saw the problem: there was a pile-up in front of him and none of the vehicles were moving. As he slammed on his brakes, he realized that his brief moment of hesitation was going to cost him, and he spun the wheel in a futile effort to avoid the truck in front of him and reflexively braced himself as the car skidded on the water. But, before the impact, his car jerked to a sudden stop and he was thrown into the airbag blossoming in front of him. Confusion and incredulity flooded his mind before everything turned black.

Chapter Text

The first thing David became aware of was that the back of his head was resting on a very hard surface. The second thing was that it was rather dark, until he realized that his eyes were closed. Opening them, he saw the blurry face of a girl with long red hair leaning over him. Beyond her, odd bits of machinery and latticework stretched below a dark golden domed ceiling decorated with large, dark circles.

"Oi! He's waking up!" she called out, her Scottish brogue comforting to his ears. After years of living in London, it was nice to hear someone from home.

He tried to lift himself off the floor, but his head swam and he only succeeded in propping himself on his elbows. He closed his eyes to concentrate on stabilizing himself. "I'm okay, I'm okay," he lied.

"Don't get up. Just stay there." The girl placed a hand on his arm, then called over her shoulder, "Doctor! He's awake. He's trying to get up."

A strident disembodied voice answered her. "I'm busy! I've got to close the rift." His tone was petulant.

David could feel the vibrations of approaching footsteps and then thumps of someone landing on their knees next to him. A low, gentle male voice said, "Lie back now." A hand cradled his head, and another carefully pushed on his chest to guide him back down. This time, there was a pillow to cushion him.

"Where am I? What happened?" David croaked.

"I'm Rory. I'm a nurse and I'm just checking you over, okay?" said the nearby male voice. "I think you're going to be fine, but I just want to make sure." David nodded, and someone pressed his wrist, checking his pulse.

"I'm Amy," the Scottish lass stated. "You're safe now. We were able to stop your car before it hit the truck, but the sudden stop knocked you out cold. What's your name?"

"I'm David." He opened his eyes, and found that his eyesight was much clearer. Amy was a pretty girl, probably in her early twenties, kneeling on his right. She wore a loose sweater and a short skirt, and had an energetic, inquisitive air about her. Rory, who was continuing to prod and poke him, seemed to be about the same age as Amy, with short blond hair and casual, nondescript clothing. That dome still stood above them, an odd sight considering he had just been on a highway in the country. Looking around a bit, he saw a railing behind Amy that would be about waist height if he were standing, and behind Rory was some kind of table and above that, a metal and glass column stretched to the ceiling.

"What is this place? Uh, where’s my car?"

"Don’t worry, the car’s safe, too," Amy replied. "We're in the TARDIS."

David turned to stare at Amy, then after a moment, started to laugh. "Oh, I get it. You know, you people take this stuff way too seriously. It's just a show on the telly. It's not real." He started to sit up again, and when Amy protested, Rory stopped her.

"No, let him. He should be fine."

"What's just a show on the telly?" Amy asked.

Now sitting up, David could see his surroundings a lot better, and the room was definitely decorated in the style of a TARDIS, but all the details were wrong: it didn't look like the TARDIS console room from his set, or any other season's set. The feel and lighting was like his set, but the roundels in the wall were less prominent and the organic struts were missing. The console itself was more angular and edged with metal, with controls that looked like they were scavenged from an antiques shop. The center column was metal and glass, with a blown-glass time rotor, which rose up into the ceiling in the center of concentric circles of metal. The floor he was on was glass instead of grating, and he could see beneath him another person puttering around down there. Staircases led down into the lower part of the chamber, and one led up to his left to a high hallway. Far off behind him were the familiar police box doors, and there was another hallway leading out of the lower part of the room, ahead of him and to the right. The worksmanship was exquisite, but everything was wrong. Perhaps this was fan-designed.

"Not a very faithful replica, is it?" He was a bit disappointed. Fans usually did a far better job of copying sets. Though, come to think of it, if these fans were so rabid that they built a replica, why had Amy needed to ask his name?

The disembodied voice replied, and David was able to confirm it came from the man below them, who was now trotting up the stairs to the console platform. "Well, you haven't seen this one yet, have you? I had to rebuild it after the right mess you made. Oh, I suppose I shouldn't have said that."

David squinted in confusion. "The mess I made? What are you talking about?" He started to stand up, and Amy and Rory moved in to assist. They steadied him, but once he gained his feet, he was fine. Taller than all of them, he got a very good look at the chamber, spotting his overnight bag on the floor on the other side of the console, then he turned his eye on the newcomer. Shorter than himself, the man had shaggy brown hair with a lock that fell into his eyes and a pleasant face with a prominent chin. His long, gangly legs were slightly bowed and his arms were held with his hands at chest height and elbows out from his side, giving David the distinct impression that he didn't know what to do with them. Wearing a brown tweed jacket over a light pink shirt, highwater pants, boots, and a dark red bow tie, he looked like an old college professor, except that he couldn't have been more than thirty years old.

He came to stand directly in front of David and looked him over from head to toe. "Never mind that, Doctor. Now that you're here, what are we going to do with you?"

David pursed his lips, then opened his mouth to utter a sarcastic reply, but Amy spoke first. "Doctor?" She turned to David. "Are you a doctor?" She then turned back to the man in tweed. "How do you know he's a doctor?"

The man smiled, almost triumphantly. "Not just a doctor. The Doctor. The previous version of me! Mind you, I don't remember doing this, or dressing like that, but it's all history-in-flux, timey-wimey stuff. The timestream will fix itself as we go along."

David waved his hands in protest. "Wait, wait, wait. I'm not the Doctor. I'm an actor who plays the Doctor on the telly. It's not real, and I am really not comfortable taking part in whatever live-action roleplay thing you've got going on here."

"Nonsense!" the man calling himself the Doctor replied, waving a hand dismissively. "If anyone would recognize me, it would be me, wouldn't it? I mean, yes, it's been a bit of time since the regeneration, but I'd like to think I would remember my previous appearance."

Amy was staring at David. "I suppose he does look like one of faces the Atraxi displayed. Can't tell for sure, though. It's been a while."

David held his hands up to stop them from talking. "Look, I really don't know what's going on here..."

"Oh, I've got plenty of pictures here." The tweed man started pushing buttons on the console. "Rose especially. Couldn’t get her to put down that camera phone. Just got to pull up the right archive. Oh! This will do. The old Emergency Programme One video. From before your time, Amy." He punched a button with a flair and spun on his heel to face the flickering blue mass of light that appeared between David and Rory.

It appeared to be a three-dimensional video of David dressed in his Doctor costume, without the overcoat. After a moment, the image began speaking, in the fake London accent David used for the Doctor instead of his natural Scottish one. "This is Emergency Programme One. Donna, if you're seeing this programme, it means that we are in great danger. I have set the TARDIS to take you home, where you'll be safe..."

The message continued, but David didn't hear any of it. First, he was floored by the 3-D hologram in front of him, something he had never seen before, and he circled around it to view it from different angles. And second, he was absolutely sure he had never filmed this scene. He remembered Christopher Eccleston's version for Rose in "The Parting of the Ways," but there was never a script for the Tenth Doctor that reproduced that idea. He started backing up, pointing at the hologram.

"How'd you make that? Where'd you get a guy that looks so much like me?"

"That's me," explained the man in tweed, "made back when I was you."

David made up his mind. "Okay, this is just too weird. Thanks for helping me, but I've got to go." Ducking down to snag his overnight bag, David strode down the stairs to the doors and yanked them open. The sight of the inky blackness of deep space, punctuated by billions of points of starlight, stopped him in his tracks, and his mouth dropped open.

"You really can't go out there," Amy called in a sarcastically helpful tone.

Rory dashed down the stairs as David started to sway, then collapse; he got there just in time to catch him. He laid the unconscious man on the floor, then closed the doors.

Chapter Text

David awoke to see the face of Rory floating above him. The young man immediately assured him that he was fine, that he had caught him and he'd been out for less than a minute. David spotted the police box doors behind the nurse and jolted up into a sitting position, pointing at them, astonishment and disbelief plain on his face.

"That was, that was, uh, uh, uh..." His mind was whirling. Did he really see what he thought he saw?

"Yeah," Rory nodded. "You're in the TARDIS now. It's a spaceship."

"I know what the TARDIS is." Even through his confusion, his annoyance bubbled up. The TARDIS had been a part of his life since he was three years old, and part of British culture for far longer. How could anyone in Britain not know what a TARDIS is? A tiny voice in the back of his mind reminded him that it wasn't Britain on the other side of those doors. "Could you... Could you show me... that... again?" He jerked his head towards the doors.

"Sure," came Amy's voice from behind him. She skirted around Rory and threw the doors open.

David wasn't sure how long he sat there staring. The spacescape was beautiful: deep blackness with more stars than he had ever seen, with a swathe of a galaxy (was it his own?) cutting across the upper quarter of the panorama. The cold hard floor under his legs and fingers reassured him as he gazed at the universe.

"That's... brilliant." He felt a tug at his heart, a longing to explore every star and planet he could see, a desire that had burned within him since he was a lad of three. It reminded him of a character he was known for playing, and that thought brought him back to the present. "If... If this is the TARDIS, then..." He twisted his torso to look up the ramp at the man in tweed. "...then you must be the Doctor." His jaw dropped.

The Doctor's face lit up and he pointed at David. "There! I told you he'd figure it out! Without all that 'I am he and he is me' nonsense."

David shook his head violently. "No! No no no no no, no no!"

The Doctor looked delighted. “Sounding more like me all the time! Well, like him me. Not like me me."

David jumped to his feet and strode up the stairs to get in the Doctor's face, drawing himself up to his full height to tower over him. "No! Doctor Who is a programme on the telly!" He prodded the man in the chest for emphasis. "I am an actor who plays an incarnation of the Doctor. It is not real!"

Amy followed him and flung her arm toward the doors. "Then how do you explain that? Or this?" She pointed at the emergency programme, which was still looping next to them. Then she jerked a thumb at the Doctor. "Or him, for that matter? He's mental enough to need his own explanation."

"Oi!" The Doctor looked offended.

David faltered and stepped back. There was too much he couldn't explain. He felt a little faint and put a hand out to the console to steady himself. The cool metal gave him a smidgen of rationality. "I don't know."

"Well," replied the Doctor. "I do. Rory, he's human, right?"

"Yeah. I checked his heart."

"Then I must have used a chameleon arch to become human and hid myself away in that alternate universe. Interesting choice, to become an actor playing myself. I suppose I know myself best, don’t I?”

David rolled his eyes and threw his arms up in frustration. “I’m NOT you!” he roared. “I’m a human! Always have been! There is NO way I’m a Time Lord, even with a chameleon arch.”

“Ah!” The Doctor pointed at him in triumph. “But you know what a chameleon arch is! No way a human could know that. Even Amy and Rory don't know what it is."

“Except that my character used one in ‘Human Nature’ to hide from the Family!” David countered. They both paused, staring wide-eyed at each other, the gears turning in both brains showing plainly on their faces.

“What?” asked Rory. “What’s going on?”

The Doctor’s eyes narrowed. “Just how closely does your programme follow my life?”

David slapped a hand to his mouth. “Oh, that is creepy.”

“What exactly happened in this episode where you used a chameleon arch?” the Doctor inquired.

David thought back. It had been a couple of years since the filming of that show. “Let’s see. The Doctor - my character - is being chased by the Family and uses the arch to make himself human…”

“...as a schoolteacher in 1913, with Martha as my maid…”

“...He falls in love with Joan Redfern just as the Family catches up to him…”

“...and when Tim Latimer returned the watch, I had to decide to save the village by becoming a Time Lord again…”

“...Then he deals with the Family, and returns to Joan, but she refuses to travel with him.”

Amy and Rory stared at each of them as they spoke. “This is disturbing,” Amy murmured.

David waved his hands to dispel the atmosphere. “That’s all part of the story and would be known to anyone who’d seen the episode, really.”

The Doctor shook his head. “Did you hold Joan’s hand over the watch? Was the vision in the show?”

David hesitated, then nodded. “The wedding. Becoming parents. The children…”

“Two boys and a girl. Then, the grandchildren…”

“Uh, there were no grandchildren in that scene.”

“Yes, there were. We saw our children all grown up, with grandchildren."

David blanched. “There were the adult children and grandchildren in a very early version of the script, but they were cut out because we didn’t have the actors. I suppose we don’t film everything that happens to you.”

“Exactly. But only Joan and I know about that. She would never have told anyone, and it wasn’t in Verity’s novel. There’s no way for you to know that.”

“Except if our programme is accurate.” David exhaled heavily and ran his hand through his hair. “That is proper creepy.”

Rory stepped forward. “So wait. You’re saying that in your universe, there’s a programme on the telly that tells the story of the Doctor’s life? And you played the Doctor in it?”

The Doctor answered for David. “Yes. And he looks exactly like I did in my previous incarnation. And that also means, you’re on the telly, too.”

Amy’s eyes went wide. “Oh my god. I was in my nightie on Starship UK!”

But what Rory said finally sunk in with David. “You said ‘my universe’? You mean, we’re in an alternate universe now?”

“Oh, yes,” the Doctor replied. “The TARDIS fell through a rift, came out right over you on the highway. We had time enough to pull your car in before you hit that pile, but then we came right back home.”

The words David had heard earlier drifted back to him. I’m busy! I’ve got to close the rift. “You sealed the crack! And there’s no way back, is there? You kidnapped me from my own universe!”

“This is your own universe, Doctor. You’re me, remember?”

David was about to scream back that he wasn’t him, but realized that if this man really was the Doctor, he wouldn’t be able to get him to change his mind; if there was anything he knew from thirty-plus years of watching the show, it was that the Doctor was a stubborn git. He changed his tactic. “You snatched me right out of my life! I’ve got a family, and a career, and, and, and...! You take me back right now!”

“Can’t. The rift is closed. No way back. Only thing you can do is open your watch and become me again.”

David smacked his forehead with both hands. “I don’t have a watch! Because I am NOT YOU!”

“Of course you do.” Dashing down the ramp, the Doctor grabbed David’s overnight bag and started rifling through it. “You just don’t remember because of the perception filter. But you would’ve kept it with you anyway and I’m sure it’s right… There’s no watch in here.”

“Because I don’t have one!"

“"Maybe it’s in the car?” He dropped the bag.

“No, because I. Don’t. Have. One!” David stared at the ceiling in frustration. “And anyway, my car is stuck in a different universe!”

“No, it’s here. We pulled it in here, remember?” The Doctor sprinted out of the console room.

David collapsed to the floor and held his head in his hands. “This is insane.”

Amy sat down next to him. “Sanity kind of gets checked at the door when you enter the TARDIS.”

“Don’t I know it. I keep telling myself it’s time to wake up.” He hit his head with the heel of his hand a few times.

“Oi, stop that.” Amy grabbed his wrist. “It isn’t going to help. This is all real.”

“Oh, David, you’re really going over the edge now. Calling up a hot Scottish redhead to tell yourself you’re not crazy.”

“Hey, that’s my fiancee you’re calling hot,” Rory piped up.

“And then making up a jealous boyfriend to beat yourself up more. Good going.”

“Get yourself together,” Amy commanded. “This is real, no matter what you might have seen on the telly. The universe is much weirder than you might have imagined, and the sooner you accept that, the easier you’ll cope.”

David snorted. “Probably the wisest words I’ve ever heard. So he’s really the Doctor.”

She nodded. “That’s what he’s always told me.”

“How long have you known him?”

“He landed in my garden when I was seven. Didn’t actually start traveling with him until recently.” She hesitated, then asked what was bothering her. “So, in this programme you acted in, it shows all of his life?”

“Well, not all. It’s like any other show, with episodes for each adventure, that kind of thing.” He shrugged.

“And you played the Doctor before he looks like what he does now?”

“Yeah.”

“So there’s an actor in your world that looks exactly like the Doctor?”

David considered the idea. “I suppose there is. My run on the show is almost over, but they haven’t chosen the new actor for the part yet. I suppose if I look like that” - he flung an arm towards the hologram without looking - “then there’s someone who looks like him. There’d be actors who look like you two, too.”

“I don’t want to think about that,” mumbled Rory.

The Doctor dashed back into the console chamber and up the ramp to join the group. He was wringing his hands and had a worried look on his face. “No watch in the car, either.”

David, hunched over on the floor, peered up at the Doctor. “I told you I don’t have a watch.”

The Doctor started pacing around. “Where would it be? Oh, it must be on you!” He dropped to the floor and started frisking David while the hapless actor tried to fend him off.

“I don’t have it! I don’t have a watch! Stop it! Get offa me!”

“Doctor! Stop that!” Amy called, and that seemed to be effective in calling him off.

The Doctor stood back up, aghast. “It must have been left in the other universe! And we can’t get back!”

“Or it doesn’t exist!” David rolled his eyes. “If I really were you, and we can’t get back to the watch, wouldn’t you stop existing or something?”

“Oh, the paradoxes!” The Doctor was crestfallen. “You’re not me, then.”

“No. I’m not.” David breathed a sigh of relief, though a not insignificant part of his soul was disappointed to not be revealed as the great Time Lord and his childhood hero.

The Doctor crossed his arms and tapped his chin. “What are we going to do with you then? Could we drop him off with your aunt, Amy?”

Amy sprang to her feet and stomped in front of the Doctor. “What do you mean, drop him off with my aunt? You’re the one who yanked him from his universe! You’re not going to just abandon him!”

“What do you want me to do? I already have to look after you and Rory!”

“He is your responsibility!”

David was glad that Amy was arguing for him. He didn’t want to think about what lay in his future, as he was starting to realize that he would never get back to his own life. He’d never see his family again. He wouldn’t get to finish out his run as the Tenth Doctor. He wouldn’t be playing Hamlet for the Royal Shakespeare Company. As far as anyone would know, he will have disappeared off the face of the Earth (and he had, literally), relegated to history as another unsolved mystery, the famous actor who vanished inexplicably.

He dropped his head into his hands as the argument continued above him and tried to stop the sobs threatening to burst from his chest, but he was unsuccessful. As he cried, he felt Rory kneel next to him and put an arm around his shoulders. “Come on. Let’s go find you a place to rest.” With Rory’s touch guiding him, he stood and allowed himself to be led out. The timbre of the voices turned from heated arguing to concern, and Rory scolded them both for their insensitivity. The Doctor called some directions to “David’s room,” and Rory escorted him there.

Chapter Text

David got himself back under control, and tried to concentrate on the path to the room, as he knew the TARDIS’s metallic spaceship-like corridors would be confusing. Luckily, the room the Doctor described was not far from the console room, and he was sure he knew how to get back, if the corridors themselves didn’t change. Rory opened the door and let David walk in first.

The chamber was comforting, with wood panel walls of deep umber and a vaulted ceiling that looked like open space with billions of stars (and knowing the TARDIS, David wondered if it really was open to space). A low light suffused the room, but its source was not visible. A bed with a midnight blue squashy down comforter occupied one corner, and a large desk, clean but piled with supplies on shelves, stood in another. Built-in shelving along one wall was half-filled with stacks of books. In another corner stood a very large wardrobe of the same umber-colored wood as the walls. A closed door stood between the wardrobe and the bookshelves.

Rory followed David in and looked all around. “Never been in here before. Nice. Very comfortable.”

David headed directly for the bed and threw himself down on it, face down; he was not in the mood to be reminded of the fact that they were in deep space. "Thanks, Rory. I appreciate your help."

"You're welcome. Get some rest. Let me know if you need anything.” He twiddled his fingers nervously. “Even a shoulder. This place is pretty weird, and, well, I'll just say Amy still is my shoulder."

David rolled onto his side and propped his head up on his fist. "So, Amy's his companion?" He realized immediately what that sounded like and hastened to clarify. "What I mean is, she's travelling with him, and you're here with her?"

Rory looked disheartened. "Why, does he do that a lot on your show?"

"Yeah, well, my Doctor..." He faltered. "That's really weird, to say that when there really is a Doctor. Anyway, my Doctor always had a primary friend, a companion, and sometimes picked up other friends who weren't as..." He almost said important. "...uh, weren't as primary. It wasn't always like that. In very old episodes, he had as many as three companions at a time, and none were more important than the others. Though, he's usually preferred female companions."

"Old episodes? Just how long has this programme been going on?"

"Over forty years. Few more years and it'll be fifty. It's got books and audios and comic books, too."

Rory shook his head. "That's hard to believe, that people in your universe are writing shows and books that are our lives in this universe. I'd say impossible, except that in this place" - he gestured at the TARDIS around them - "the impossible happens all the time." A new idea came to him and he paused, gazing off to the side. "Wait. Does that mean someone is writing what I'm saying as I speak? I feel like a puppet!"

"Suppose so. Though your Doctor is farther along in his timeline than my show was. Maybe they’re just writing what’s already happened. Except that maybe the TARDIS went back in time when it entered my universe. Argh!" David flopped on his stomach and gave his head a violent shake with both hands. "This place makes me think in circles."

"Yeah, it can do that. I try not to think about it."

David rolled over onto his back, this time staring up at the stars. “What am I going to do?”

“Honestly? Get some rest. Want something to eat? We’ve got a great kitchen. But let yourself get used to it. Amy won’t let the Doctor kick you out, not until you’re ready to leave. So take your time. You’ve got a lot to get used to.”

“Thanks, Rory.” The nurse slipped out of the room and closed the door behind him.

David glanced around the room for a light switch, and when he failed to find one, he murmured to himself, "Oh, no." He cleared his throat, then, with a sheepish grimace, called out, "Dim the lights, please." Immediately, the light in the room lowered to a level tolerable for sleeping, but not so dark that he felt he was floating in space beneath all those stars.

It didn't surprise him at all that he couldn't sleep. Part of his mind was still hoping he would wake up from this nightmare. The rest of it was still trying to convince himself that everything he had seen and heard was real. He wasn’t sure which part was more unbelievable: that he was actually in the TARDIS with the Doctor, or that he would never be able to return to his real life. His erratic thoughts jumped back and forth between the two concepts: images of the strange man in the tweed jacket, the beautiful TARDIS console, and the three-dimensional hologram of a Doctor looking like himself jumbled with thoughts of his family, his friends, his home in London, the BBC studios in Wales... He kept his eyes tightly shut, because if he opened them, the panorama of the universe above dazzled him.

He had to deal with it. He had to convince himself to accept what was happening to him and come to terms with it. Isn’t this what he always wanted as a child, to travel with the Doctor, to see the universe? But he wasn’t a child, and as an adult, who had watched and read and listened to the Doctor’s adventures all his life, he knew one thing: the Doctor’s universe was terrifying. The Doctor’s travels were never safe. There were murderous monsters and sadistic humans outside the TARDIS doors every time. Watching the Doctor and his companion face down the Daleks had been entertaining, but he couldn’t even fathom being that companion, expected to stand bravely in front of the children of Skaro.

Idly, he wondered if the Daleks even existed anymore. The last his Doctor had seen of them, Davros’s newest creations had been destroyed by the Doctor born of the Doctor-Donna biological metacrisis, and before that, the Cult of Skaro had fallen. The thought of the metacrisis made his stomach flip again: it meant that there was another Doctor with his face somewhere. Even though that Doctor was supposedly trapped in a different universe, it was still another doppelganger. Though the room was comfortably warm, he shivered.

"Lights, please," he called, and the room brightened. He leapt up from the bed and paced around the room, knowing full well that he wouldn't be able to sleep. He wanted to do something. The closed door caught his eye, and strode over to it. He hesitated a moment, knowing that strange things lurked in the TARDIS, then steeled himself and pushed open the door, only to find the en suite. He snorted at his trepidation and stepped back into the bedroom.

David strolled over to the bookshelves to take a look at the selection. Most of them were plays, hardbound in leather, including the Hamlet that he had been looking forward to performing, and a good selection of novels. Taking down a book whose title he didn’t recognize, he opened to the copyright page and saw a date of 3645, and he smiled to himself. Replacing it back on the shelf, he wandered to the desk, and poked through the writing supplies and other doodads on it.

Next, he turned his attention to the wardrobe. It reminded him that he needed to get his bag back from the console room, though it held only a couple of changes of clothing. He expected that when he wanted more, the TARDIS' clothing room would provide. Thus, he yanked open the wardrobe expecting it to be empty. It wasn't, and what he saw caused him to choke and cough.

Three-quarters of it was empty, but the last quarter was occupied with very familiar clothing. The jacket and trousers of a pin-stripe suit, blue with red stripes, hung on hangers, along with dress shirts of different colors: white, maroon, light and dark blue. Next to them, in a clear garment bag, was a black tuxedo. On the door hung a variety of ties, and on the bottom panel, two pairs of high-top trainers, red and black, were arranged neatly.

David stepped back, his mouth hanging open as he sputtered with disbelief. He couldn't possibly be expected to wear these! Did the Doctor put him up in his own room? That didn't make any sense, but neither did the thought that the Doctor had this room prepared like this in the short time since he had been brought on board. Of course there was the theory that the sentient TARDIS could manipulate its rooms and contents at will, but he found it hard to believe that it would give him these outfits simply because he looked like an old version of the Doctor or that it would play such a cruel prank on him.

A thought occurred to him, and he stepped back to the wardrobe and pulled the jacket from its hanger. He patted its lower pockets and they seemed empty, then plunged a hand into the right one. Sure enough, the pocket was bigger on the inside and full of objects. Over the next quarter-minute, he pulled out a fluorescent green water gun, a plastic toy frog, a small ball of twine, and thingamajig that looked like plastic and metal with three buttons on it. He declined to press any of them, and though there was lots more in the pocket, he decided it was probably wiser just to put all of it back.

Replacing the jacket in the wardrobe, David realized something was missing. He checked behind the hanging clothes, then in the drawers at the bottom (which held nothing but some underclothes and a few t-shirts), but the long brown overcoat was nowhere to be found. Had it gotten destroyed in some adventure? Perhaps the Doctor had discarded it after regeneration; he certainly was not the type that would wear such a thing. Nah, he thought, however he might like to hide it, the Doctor is sentimental. He likes his trophies and mementos. He closed the wardrobe and cast a look around the room, spotting the coat hanging from a hook on the inside of the door. He hadn't seen it before because the door had been open when Rory was still in the room. He smiled. He loved that coat.

The realization that he was starting to accept this reality hit him hard, and, pressing the palms of both hands to his temples, he screwed his eyes shut. “I’m not cracking up, am I?” he asked the empty room. “Making up this fantasy about the Doctor and the TARDIS just so I don’t have to face up to all the pressures.” He straightened and strolled around the room, glaring at it all with contempt. “I can’t even go crazy properly! I’m supposed to make myself the Doctor, the hero of my own story, not some stray that they pick up. This can’t all be real, can it? How can I tell? If I’m asking if I’m crazy, that means I’m not crazy, right? If I were crazy, I wouldn’t ask that question, right? Ha!” He snorted at himself in disgust. “I’m monologuing! Ever the actor!”

He plopped down heavily onto the bed, but almost immediately jumped back up again. “I can’t just sit here. I need to do something.” He strode out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

Chapter Text

As he walked into the console room, David spotted the Doctor and his two companions in the chamber beneath the console. The Doctor was stuffed under a big piece of machinery, only his legs visible, while Amy and Rory were standing nearby, handing him tools and otherwise idly fiddling with hanging cables and springy bits. Rory noticed his entrance and turned towards him with a concerned look.

“Couldn’t sleep, huh?” he called.

“Nah. Too wound up.” David started to wander around the room, to get a good look at the whole thing.

“Thought you might. Anything we can do to help?”

“Take me home?” Facetious, he didn’t even bother to turn back towards them as he asked.

“Can’t,” came the answer from under the machine, and the Doctor pushed himself out. “Rift’s closed, no way back. Could try to punch a hole through the universe, but there’s no telling where we’d come out. And then the universe would have a hole. Nasty things, holes. Nothing in them, and that one would go through the Void, so the nothing would be made of nothing. Can’t have that.” He sprang to his feet as he rambled. “So, David, Amy suggested that I take you back to England, to get your bearings, give you some familiar ground. How does that strike you?”

David, who had turned to gawk at the Doctor’s babble, consciously shut his mouth, then frowned. “I don’t see how that would help anything.”

"Nonsense! We'll take you back, and you'll feel right at home!" He bounded up the stairs to the console, then spun around. "What year was it when you left?"

"You took me," David corrected, "and it was 2008."

"Ah, yes! A good year!" He began typing at the console. "Spent a while in it. When I was you. And where is home?"

David crossed his arms and regarded the Doctor with impatience, his weight centered on one leg. "London."

The Doctor spun back around to face him. "Oh, no! It's always London! I'm not taking you there! It's too boring."

David shrugged. "You asked where home was. I wasn't the one who suggested taking me there."

"No! No London. Pick somewhere fun!"

"Doctor!" Amy came stomping up the steps. "You promised to take him home!"

"Not if it's a boring home, Pond." He turned to David. "Where else is home for you?"

"Who has two homes?" wondered Rory, who had followed his fiancee up the stairs.

David shrugged. "Well, I’m from Paisley, and we were just filming in Cardiff..."

The Doctor pointed at David. "There! Cardiff! Much better! We'll go there!" He twirled back to the console and began entering coordinates for Cardiff in 2008.

Amy scrunched up her nose in distaste. "How is Cardiff more interesting than London?"

David rolled his eyes. "He probably just wants to refuel the TARDIS at the rift."

The Doctor flipped the last switch and with a jerk, the time rotor started pumping and the ship trembled like it always did in flight. He spun back to face David. "No, but a fine idea. She's already mostly full, but might as well top up. You know quite a bit, don't you, David." He emphasized the actor's name with a knowing wink.

"Stop it," David growled. "I've played the part for four years, and before that I was a great fan of the show. Of course I know a 'quite a bit.'"

The Doctor smirked, but declined to reply, turning back to the console to tend to the ship in flight.

"Look. You don't have to do this."

Amy wandered over and pushed him on the shoulder with a fist. "Come on. It'll be fun. You'll see some familiar sights and feel a lot better."

"I think I want a nap."

He turned towards the hallway, but Amy hooked his arm. "No, you don't. Come on. Cardiff awaits! I've never been to Cardiff."

As the time rotor ground to a halt and the familiar clunk told David they had landed, she led him across the room to the main doors. He cast a glance over his shoulder at Rory, who was wearing an apologetic frown that said, "They both do what they want. What can you do?" David shrugged almost imperceptibly and turned back to see where Amy was taking him.

They stepped out of the doors onto a huge, beautifully manicured lawn bordered on all sides by large, long buildings in classic architectural style, all fronted with rows of windows. There were clots of people here and there, strolling along the walkways that ringed the lawn, but otherwise, the wide expanse among the buildings was empty.

Amy, wandering away from the TARDIS and whirling around to take in the panorama, murmured, "So. This is Cardiff. Where are we?"

David stepped a few feet in the direction of one of the buildings and stopped to gaze at it with his feet planted a shoulder-width apart. He swept his jacket back to plant his fists on his hips. "I don't know. Never been to this part before. Cardiff University, I'd hazard to guess."

He turned to look around some more, but caught sight of the TARDIS. As the only structure standing on the lawn, it looked even more incongruous than usual, but it made his breath catch. He had just stepped out of that police box: it had carried him through the time vortex, and it really was bigger on the inside. His head swam with the impossibility of it all and the realization that everything he had dreamed of as a child was real.

Rory and the Doctor emerged from the box at that moment. Rory spotted David's momentary lapse and immediately dashed over to him. "Hey, are you okay?" He placed a steadying hand on the actor's shoulder and peered at his face to determine what was wrong.

"Fine, fine, thanks." David brought a hand up to smooth the hair on the side of his head. "Just saw the TARDIS from the outside for the first time. I'm fine."

"Oh, yeah. I can understand that." Rory gave a wry smile.

"So, where are we?" Amy called to the Doctor.

The man in the tweed jacket answered, "Cardiff!" then paced around to assess his surroundings. "No, no, no, no, no, no!" he cried in an increasing volume, flapping his arms about, ending with both hands firmly planted on his temples.

"Doctor! What's wrong?"

"We're supposed to be in front of the wordy building! Why does it never go where I want it to go?"

"Wordy building? What's a wordy building? Like a library?" Amy asked.

David smirked. "He means the Wales Millenium Centre. The one with the huge words across the front. The rift runs right under it."

The Doctor clapped once and pointed at David. "That's the one. The Millenium Centre. This is not the Millenium Centre." He spun around, surveying the buildings. "This is a big wide open place with lots of buildings."

"This is Cambridge," stated Rory as he trotted up. Unseen by the others, he had jogged off a ways to read one of the building signs.

"That’s like Cardiff. Starts with the same letter.” Amy smirked at the Doctor. “Isn’t this a bit far off?"

"But good enough for our purposes," the Doctor declared. He smiled encouragingly at David. "Feel more like home now, does it?"

David stared at him in amazement. "Home? Why would it? Never been here before. I didn't go to university."

"Even better! A new place to explore! Broaden your horizons! Better than London any day. Come along!"

The Doctor turned on his heel and strode off without checking if any of his companions were following. Amy called after him in exasperation and ran to join him. David and Rory exchanged looks of resignation and followed at a walk. David snorted a laugh.

"What’s so funny?" asked Rory.

"All those years of watching the show and dreaming about traveling in the TARDIS, and all it turns out to be is a holiday in Cambridge."

Chapter Text

If anything, the tour of Cambridge University unsettled David, rather than comforted him. Other than the Doctor himself, everything he saw was normal, making it difficult for him to comprehend that his life had entirely been set on end in the last two hours. He found himself falling into the trap of thinking that if he just saw someone he knew, it would prove that he was still in his own universe and could just pop back home any time he wanted. He began to realize that he needed proof: not that the Doctor and the TARDIS were real - he already had that - but that he didn’t exist in this universe. He wanted to go home and see it lived in by someone else; that would do it. Or, as he hoped beyond hope, it was still his and he could pick his life back up. Convincing this Doctor, who seemed to be flightier than most, to do such a thing would be difficult indeed. David tucked the idea away and put on a happy face, pretending to enjoy the outing. Being an actor came in handy sometimes.

The Doctor led them on a tortuous route through the different colleges of Cambridge, trying to explore the various departments and academic disciplines, and was disappointed he was denied access to all but the most public of areas. At the first obstacle, he started fishing the psychic paper out of his pocket, but Amy convinced him to simply move on, that the point of the tour was to help David, and not to entertain himself. He took every opportunity to lecture them on each display, though his talks tended to lack detail and consist mostly about how they were wrong. After the first few of these, Amy became bored and began asking when they would leave to go do something exciting, but the Doctor was adamant about seeing the whole university. David and Rory rarely said a word, realizing the less they objected, the faster the visit would end.

The three humans finally took a welcome break when Amy spotted a cafe near the medical school and insisted they stop for lunch. Without stopping, the Doctor dismissed them and ducked into the next building alone. David immediately relaxed, much of his tension released by the cessation of the Doctor’s relentless energy and non-stop chatter. After fetching their lunches, they sat at an outdoor table to eat.

“Feeling any better?” Amy inquired of David as she unwrapped her sandwich.

“A little, I suppose. It’s all a bit hard to process.” He tucked into the bowl of soup, only now realizing how hungry he was. It made sense: he’d worked a long day of filming and had been planning to have dinner once he’d finished the long drive to Birmingham. He probably hadn’t had food for a good eight hours now. “I know you’re trying to keep me from thinking about it too much. I think I’ve gotten used to him and the TARDIS, but… I keep thinking about home.”

“Yeah, well, that’s the hard part. I can’t say I know how that feels.” She leaned across the table and grasped his arm in a comforting manner. “But I promise, I won’t let him abandon you.”

“It’s probably best if you did,” he commented between slurps.

Amy was taken aback. “What? Why?”

David put his spoon down and leaned back. “Better to just let me rebuild my life. I can start over. I’m sure there’s a theatre group that’ll take me.”

Even Rory was surprised. “You don’t want to travel with us?”

David shook his head and shrugged. “I’ve been a fan of the show all my life, and traveling with the Doctor was my greatest fantasy. But that’s the kid in me talking. I know everything about the show, and life with the Doctor is simply dangerous.”

“That’s not true. We get into some trouble, sure, but we’ve got the whole universe to explore. It’s beautiful out there.” Amy gestured at the sky before taking another bite of her sandwich.

“Have you met the Sontarans yet? Or the Zygons? Or the Daleks? ‘Cause the Daleks, they always find a way to come back.”

Amy pointed at the mention of the Daleks. “Aye, those we’ve met.”

A note of horror shaded David's eyes. He took a deep breath and rubbed one hand down around his mouth and jaw. “They never just stay dead, do they? Look, there are hordes of murderous aliens out there, and I know what they can do. I’d be rubbish in front of them.”

She shook her head. “It’s worth the risk. And you’ll be fine. It happens less often than you think. I’m sure your show only shows the exciting moments of the Doctor’s life.”

“I suppose that must be true. No one wants to watch the Doctor reading a book on a beach somewhere.” David’s lips curved into a slight smile.

The next few minutes passed in silence as they ate their lunches, until Rory looked up and murmured, “That’s never a good sign.” Amy and David followed his gaze to the Doctor striding towards them, reading the sonic screwdriver in his hand. David sighed.

“Doctor, what’s up?” called Amy.

“Birds,” the Doctor replied. As he arrived at their table, he stashed the screwdriver in his inner breast pocket.

“Now he’s worried about birds,” groaned Rory.

Amy ignored him. “Birds are good. Any particular kind of bird?”

“Oh yes. One of those.” He pointed at a large raven that was sitting on a nearby roof. “They’re called Arrenids. Not really birds. Can't fly. More like a feathered mammal. From a very long way away.”

At that moment, the Arrenid spread its wings and glided down, into the building it had been perched on.

"I suppose that counts as ‘swimming through air’ and not flying," Amy snarked.

"Come on. Let’s go.” He continued scanning the buildings around them for birds as the humans exchanged annoyed glances with each other. “They lost the ability to fly a hundred thousand years ago. The wings are really just feathered hands, and they have mechanical implants under them. Wired into their whole bodies, really. Does all sorts of things, especially fly. That's why they don't flap."

Amy, Rory, and David reluctantly rose and discarded their plates and cups, stuffing their mouths with the last of their lunches. "What are they doing here?" the redhead asked.

The Doctor paced back and forth impatiently. “That’s what I went to find out. Arrenids are traders by nature, like to acquire goods and sell them. If they’re this far away from home, you can bet they’re after something very valuable.”

“And what would that be?”

The Doctor spun, and seeing that they were more or less done, answered, “Human organs,” and strode off.

Amy ran to catch up with him, as Rory and David jogged up behind them. “Ew! Who would buy organs?”

The Doctor waved his hands around to indicate everything. “They sell to the universe! Somewhere there’s someone who’ll buy anything you have to sell. There’s always a trade for parts.” He waggled a finger at Amy. “It might be a kidney to you, but it’s a medicine to someone, or a delicacy, or, when powdered and mixed with oil, a fine wood polish.” She grimaced at the thought.

David recalled an episode in which the body parts of humans were wired into a spaceship’s engineering. It was an intriguing idea at the time and made for a good story, but the thought sickened him as he realized that it had actually happened here. He didn’t share this thought with the Doctor, though, as he was getting tired of the Doctor’s insinuations about how he knew these things.

The Doctor continued to explain as they trotted up the steps of one of the medical school buildings. “I’ve been seeing them all over the university, probably about fifty of them. Tracked them to the medical college. Been listening to them talk. They’ve been harvesting the cadavers, but the staff has been noticing and making it far more difficult for the Arrenids to get in. They’re planning to harvest humans directly now. Who would suspect the birds?”

Amy sped up to get ahead of the Doctor and spun, walking backwards to talk to him. “Stopping the great alien organ harvest! What can we do?”

“We tell them to leave. And if they don’t, we knock them out. Pack them up. Take them away.” He stopped at the doors and turned to the rest of them. “Rory, you’re a nurse. Ever operated an MRI?”

Rory started, being addressed directly for once. “Uh, once, yes, in school.”

“Good. You’re going to do it again.” The Doctor showed him the sonic screwdriver. “That building. Get to the MRI. Find the main control circuit. Should be just under the control panel. Apply this setting for five seconds, then activate the machine. Oh, then this setting for five seconds. That’ll put it back to normal.” He handed the screwdriver to him.

Rory took the sonic uncertainly. “And what will that do?”

“EMP pulse. Knock out the Arrenids for a good thirty minutes. They’re completely dependent on the electronics under their wings. Knock out the electronics in a two-mile radius, too, but can’t be helped. Amy, come with me. If we need the pulse, send a text to Rory.” Spinning on his heel, he headed towards a different medical college building with Amy in tow.

“What about me?” David called to him. He was apprehensive of getting involved in a dangerous situation and had no skills or knowledge that he could contribute, but he didn’t want to be left behind. He was also concerned about appearing to be afraid, especially when both Rory and Amy were fearless.

“Here.” Rory tossed him his mobile. “You keep in touch with Amy. Come on.”

Unlike a hospital, the medical college didn’t have signs indicating which rooms were which, and the two men spent some time studying the building map in the lobby, looking for the likely location for an MRI. Rory finally pointed to a corridor and shrugged. “I’d guess the radiology machines would be here.” Heading there, they found that the nurse’s intuition was correct: the corridor, closed off by a partition with a desk at which a receptionist sat, led to rooms with signs indicating their contents: MRI, CT, x-ray, PET, and other imaging machines. Rory and David came up short and retreated into the hallway they had come from.

Rory leaned into David and put a hand on his shoulder. “We can’t get in there. That woman controls the scheduling of the machines. If we’re not on the list, then she won’t let us in.”

David peeked around the corner and surveyed the area. “Mmm. I think we can. You’re my student. Follow my lead.”

He walked up to the desk, and the woman turned a lazy eye toward him. “Can I help you?”

David affected a pretentious English accent, instead of his normal Scottish one. “I’m Dr. Tennant, from the Royal Hope Hospital.” He pulled his studio ID out of his pocket and flashed it at the woman, hoping that she wouldn’t recognize the BBC Wales logo on it. "This is my intern, Mr. Johnson. We're here to take a look at your MRI."

The woman looked him up and down, skeptical that David could be a doctor while dressed like he was, in his jeans, Star Wars shirt, and jacket. She consulted a schedule and replied, "I don't have you listed for any time with the machine."

David waved dismissively. “Oh, we're not running any scans. We're meeting with" - he pulled a name that he had seen on the faculty directory in the lobby - "Dr. Latimer to evaluate the machine. The hospital is considering purchasing this model. Latimer should be meeting us down here any minute now.” He glanced down at his hand to check the time on Rory’s mobile. “We’re on a schedule. Do you think we could go in and start looking it over?"

She looked uncertain. "So you're not going to run the machine?"

"Oh, no, unless you're volunteering as a patient.” He laughed loftily.

She responded with a smile. "Not me! I guess I can let you in early. Just don’t touch anything." She pressed a button and the door buzzed. Rory pushed it open and let David through first before following him.

"Thank you kindly." David nodded graciously at the woman before heading into the MRI room with Rory. He checked the mobile again. "No message yet." His accent was back to normal.

"Okay." Rory inspected the machine. "This is different from the one I used, but I think I can turn it on. The controls are here, and the main system is here." He started fiddling with the screwdriver. "That was some great work, by the way."

“Thanks.” David shrugged. "That's what I do: make people believe I'm someone else. Though it's been a long time since I had to improvise. I always have a script."

"My name's Williams, by the way."

"Ah. You never said." David leaned against the machine and kept an eye on the door.

"Okay, screwdriver's set. And yours is Tennant, then?"

"Yeah. Stage name. Was McDonald. Though I had to change it legally." The phone in his hand buzzed. "Oh, there's the text. She says go."

Rory knelt and applied the sonic screwdriver to the panel casing, and David's heart both leapt and sunk at the sound of it. After five seconds, Rory jumped up and punched a few buttons on the control panel. The lights in the room and the MRI itself immediately shut down, and David heard the receptionist swear in not-so-ladylike terms. Ten seconds later, the lights came back on again, and Rory started fiddling with the screwdriver. "Urgh, I hate this thing," He then applied it to the MRI. "There. That should do it."

"Let's go." David stepped out of the door, bumping into the receptionist.

"We had a bit of a power loss. Is everything okay?" she inquired.

David remembered to switch accents. "Oh, fine, just fine. The MRI will need recalibration, so I'll just head up to Latimer's office now to let him know. Thank you for your kindness. Come along, Johnson." He beckoned peremptorily at Rory and strode off. Rory nodded a nervous smile at the woman and followed.

Once out of the imaging department, they broke into a run, dashing out of the building and heading for the one that Amy and the Doctor entered. On the way, they passed a couple of stunned birds, and as they reached the stairs to the entrance, they bumped into Amy coming out, hauling a large cardboard box.

“Come on, you two! Come help!”

Rory ran up the steps and took the box from her. “Uh, heavy! What’s in it?”

“Birds.” She pulled her TARDIS key out of her pocket and looped the lanyard around Rory’s neck. “Take them to the TARDIS. The Doctor’s going to take them to some shadow place.”

“The Shadow Proclamation,” corrected David.

“Yeah, that. Something about harvesting level 5 planets. But hurry. We only have thirty minutes before they wake up.”

Rory staggered under the box. "I guess we're lucky they weren't cows."

They spent the next twenty minutes searching for unconscious birds, packing them up in whatever containers they could find, and hauling them to the TARDIS. David was looking forward to seeing the Shadow Proclamation in reality, having finally visited it in a recent episode, but when the time came, the Doctor refused to take the humans (“Pretentious lot. A bit touchy when it comes to lesser races leaving footprints on their shiny floors.”), so they were left behind to wait on the lawn. They settled down, Rory and Amy cuddled next to each other with their arms around the other’s waist, while David laid nearby, head on his hands as he stared up at the sky.

“How’d your first adventure strike you?” Amy threw out at David.

“Less life-threatening than I expected.”

“Maybe on your end. The birds were ready to peck us to death. The pulse couldn’t have come too soon.” Rory hugged her closer.

“So they were really planning to kill people for their organs.” David shivered.

“Yeah. They needed to scale up their operations to make the trip to Earth worth it. Apparently, we’re far out on the galactic arm.”

David closed his eyes. “This universe is horrifying.”

“I hear ya,” Rory agreed.

“Yours doesn’t have aliens?” Amy asked.

David glanced at Amy. “No. Well, not that I know of. People claim they’re abducted, but there’s no proof.”

“But then that means there’s no Doctor, either.”

“I suppose that’s right. No Doctor.”

Amy replied immediately, “This is better.”

“Home is better.” David hadn’t meant to sound so bitter.

After a minute of silence, Amy spoke again. "He doesn’t believe you."

David’s thoughts were a universe away. "Who about what?"

"The Doctor. He still thinks you're him turned human."

"But wouldn't he remember being him if he was?" asked Rory.

"Not necessarily,” David explained. “There's all kinds of weird things that can happen when the Doctor meets himself, and in most cases the paradox can't be remembered."

Amy snorted. "Ha! Pair o' Docs."

Rory grinned, but David ignored her. "Doesn't matter. I'm not him. I'm me. See, that chameleon arch we talked about, it changes a Time Lord to another species, and fills in his memories with the facts about his life, but not the details. So, if he was turned into a forty-year old human, he could remember he lived in Basingstoke when he was twenty and what his house address was, but he wouldn't remember specific friends, or what pub was his favourite, or where he first kissed his girlfriend. Any real memories.

"But I remember. I remember watching TV with my Da when I was three, and hiding from my brother Blair when he was trying to get me to play football with him when I was nine, and my favourite chemist's, because they sold those little chocolate biscuits. I remember all those things a human would remember, because that's what I am."

Staring up at the sky, David couldn't see Amy's tender, sympathetic smile. She reached over and patted his shoulder. "Well, human, I'll try to explain it to him sometime. I can't imagine it's easy for you when he keeps prodding you like that. He's an inconsiderate git sometimes."

"All the time. He's a Time Lord. That's how he is. I just never imagined all that snark I saw on the telly would ever be leveled at me.” He snorted an incredulous laugh.

Rory broke into the conversation. "So all this stuff on your telly, it's all real here, then. Is that how you know so much about the things the Doctor does?"

"Yeah, sorta. I was a huge fan, even before I got the part in it. It's what made me want to be an actor, so I could play the Doctor. So, whatever you can know from the show, I know. Like, I could name a bunch of parts on the TARDIS console, but I wouldn’t know how to fly it."

"Someday," Amy declared, "I am going to have to pick your brain, so you can tell me all about him."

The rhythmic groaning of the TARDIS filled the air as the blue police box materialized next to them. Amy and Rory jumped up as the Doctor emerged, but David didn’t bother.

“That was quick!” Amy seemed excited to get a move on.

“It’s a time machine. It can come back to whenever it wants,” David muttered.

“Okay!” exclaimed the Doctor. “All taken care of. Forty-three little birds in forty-three tiny little cells awaiting trial for harvesting sentients from a level five planet. Come along now. I think we’ve seen enough of home for the time being, eh, David?”

Without waiting for an answer, the Doctor stepped back into the TARDIS, with Rory and Amy following him. Unwilling to be left behind, David rolled his eyes and got to his feet, taking one last look around at the university before disappearing into the police box.

. _ . _ . _ . _ .

David sat on his bed, curled into as much of a ball as his long gangly legs would allow, wrapped in the comforter. He was glad to have survived his first adventure with the Doctor. Granted, it hadn’t been that dangerous, but still… He had to admit, the adrenaline rush had been very addicting, it was great to be doing some actual, tangible good, and he felt good that he’d had something to contribute.

Touring Cambridge had not achieved the Doctor’s intended effect of making him feel more at home, but the adventure had distracted him from missing home and feeling sorry for himself, at least for a little bit. It blunted the pain, and now, his exhaustion from a long day of filming, getting abducted into a new universe, and saving the university from murderous avians drove all thoughts of his predicament away. He stretched out on the bed and drifted off to sleep.

Chapter Text

David sat in the canteen, picking at his lunch and studying the script. These long monologues of mile-a-minute technobabble were always the hardest to learn, and though he'd worked on it for two hours last night, he still couldn't get this one to flow well. As he mouthed it through another time, someone ran up and threw her arms around him, almost knocking him out of his chair.

“I’ve found you! Finally found you!”

He looked up into the face of a blond woman, whose adoring smile shone through the tears in her eyes. "Billie! I didn't know you were in Cardiff! What’s wrong?"

"'Billie'? I’m Rose! Doctor, I’ve come back to you, across the Void." She stared into his unbelieving eyes.

"What?" David shot out of his seat, knocking his tray to the floor. Rose let go of him to avoid being dragged along. "I'm not the Doctor! I'm David!"

Rose was horrified, and new tears streamed down her cheeks. "What’s happened to you? Don’t you remember me? You’ve got to remember me! I’ve blasted across the dimensions to find you, and I’m never gonna leave you!”

He backed against the wall, shielding his face with his hands. "I'm not the Doctor! You've got to believe me, I'm not!"

David awoke in a cold sweat, tangled in the comforter. Rose's voice rang in his ears, but the terror gripping his heart had nothing to do with the dream: he knew he wasn't alone in the room. He could feel the presence of someone or something. He called out, "Lights!" and jumped out of the bed, comforter still wrapped around him as he blinked against the brightness, but there was no one there. He couldn't shake the feeling, and, dropping the blanket, he ran around checking the wardrobe, under the bed, and in the en suite, but came up empty, and the feeling subsided as he became fully awake. Sitting down on the bed again, he held his head in his hands.

The dream... the dream had slipped away from him as he gained a tighter grasp on his sanity. Something had upset him, but he had no idea what. He realized that he was feeling better for having slept, and though there was no way to tell how long he had been out, he knew that he didn't want to sleep anymore.

He stumbled into the en suite and, stripping off his sweats, stepped into the shower and turned it on as hot as he could stand it. As he scrubbed away the last bit of his universe that might be still on him, he began planning what he might do to create a life for himself here.

Travel with the Doctor? Yeah, do that for a bit. Who am I kidding? I can't pass that up. Other thoughts intruded - Maybe he can find a way for me to go home! - but he forced them out of his mind; no use dwelling on it. After that, find a theatre group that'll take me. Late to be starting at thirty-seven, but I can do that. Get a job to eat and pay rent. Wait, how do I get a job? Don't got ID or anything. Wonder if the Doctor could get UNIT to help me? He should still be working with them…

He faltered, letting the hot water stream through his hair and cascade down his body. He was starting all over again, so much so that someone would have to create an identity for him. He didn't know a single person in this universe, and he had to rely on someone else for everything. These thoughts were becoming even more terrifying than Daleks and Cybermen, and he clenched his fists, fighting his rising panic.

Okay, David, he told himself, take it one day at a time. Stay with the Doctor and Amy and Rory until you can handle it. Do it at your own pace. You're new in this universe, but you don't have to be a part of it until you're ready.

He took the luxury of a very long shower, then, towelling off, pulled on his jeans. Combing his hair, he resolved to ask Amy to trim the front for him. He wore it long so that it could be gelled up into that gravity-defying pouf his Doctor wore on-screen, but now it just fell into his eyes. Checking the cabinet, he found a canister of gel and smirked; he could style it up, but no. Taking a bit of it on two fingers, he worked it into the front of his hair and used it to sweep the fringe back out of his eyes.

Next, it was time to clean up his stubble. There was a can of shaving cream in the cabinet, but no razor, so he checked the drawers of the sink cabinets and found an electric shaver and a straight razor. He grabbed the shaver and brought it to his chin, then stared in the mirror at his sideburns - the Doctor’s sideburns, a style he wouldn’t choose for himself.

Dumping the shaver on the counter, he snatched the can of shaving cream out of the cabinet and slapped the foam on both sideburns. Not accustomed to using a straight razor, he brought it carefully to his right cheek, and hesitated, his hand shaking. Shaving them off would really mean he’d lost hope of ever going home. He could grow them back later, of course, but somehow this step felt irreversible, like he’d given up.

“Ahhh!” he roared and threw the razor across the room, where it crashed and tinkled against the tile, then dunked his face to wash the cream away. He cleared off his stubble with the shaver and stomped back into his bedroom. Grabbing a t-shirt from his bag, he slipped it on and headed for the console room.

. _ . _ . _ . _ .

David had not expected to find the console room empty. He smacked himself in the head. The TARDIS is bloody huge! The only reason everyone stays in the console room is because the show only shows what they do when they’re travelling! So now what? He’d come here hoping someone could direct him to the wardrobe room to find some reasonable clothes to wear. He didn’t relish getting lost in the TARDIS’ maze of corridors.

He hopped up the steps to the console and, at a loss of what to do, walked around it, inspecting the controls. It was completely incomprehensible to him: there were no labels on anything, and none were in the same positions as the few controls he ever named when working his console. Not that he had any clue what they did. What was a gravitic anomaliser anyway? This console, with its hodge-podge of mechanica serving as its controls, did seem to match the Doctor’s mercurial personality, though.

“Oi, David! Good to see you up and about!” Amy called as she strolled into the console room. "Feeling a bit more comfortable here?"

"A bit. I'm getting more used to this place. A hot shower helped." He gestured at his wet hair. "D'you think you could direct me to the wardrobe? I don't have much by way of clothing that's fit to be seen."

Amy gave him an appraising once-over. "That's the truth. Come on." She beckoned with a finger and as he drew abreast of her, she turned and led him down the hallway. "We'll find you something, though I don't know if it'll have anything that'll fit you." She reached over and poked him in the stomach. "Where do you keep your organs, 'cause there's no space for 'em in there."

The redhead escorted him to the wardrobe, pointing out other locations in the TARDIS along the way, including the kitchen, the sickbay, the room she shared with Rory, and library. "You don't need to memorize how to get everywhere. I think the TARDIS guides you to where you want to go. Unless you're not sure what that is. Then you can get lost."

They spent quite a bit of time rifling through the enormous wardrobe. At first, David had succeeded in concentrating on searching only for reasonable clothing, but Amy kept finding costume bits for them to try on, and it became a game of matching together the most ridiculous bits of clothing from every planet and era, past and future. David even found a full Sontaran suit of armor, though he couldn't put it on as its shoulders only came up to his ribs.

He eventually settled on an assortment of jumpers and dress shirts, sport jackets, and black and dark blue jeans. He threw on a maroon shirt and a charcoal gray jacket, and gathered up the rest of his choices.

“You’ve got better taste in clothes than most men I know,” Amy commented as they walked to his room.

“Thanks. So, what’s happening today?”

“Whatever the Doctor decides. Usually we go somewhere, but some days he works on the TARDIS. Sometimes, he just disappears and comes back a couple of days later. He’ll go off somewhere while we’re sleeping, too. Haven’t figured out where.”

“Right. He doesn’t need to sleep much, so I bet he gets bored.”

“He’d get bored if he stood still for thirty seconds.” Arriving at David’s room, Amy pushed the door open for him and followed him in. “Oh, nice place. Very homey.” She wandered around, inspecting the desk and bookshelves as David stored his shirts and hung up his jackets. She came up beside him and, noticing the clothes that were already in the wardrobe, fingered the blue suit. “What’s this, then?”

Embarrassed, David affected an unconcerned voice as he answered, “I think it’s the suit he wore during his last life.”

Amy cocked her head at him. “When he looked like you.”

“Yeah.”

“And he gave these to you?” She held the sleeve of the jacket up.

“They were here when I got here.”

She stared at the jacket, then dropped the sleeve. “He must really think -”

“I’m not going to wear them.”

“Of course not. Nice tux, though. Bet you’d look great in it.” She wandered off and flopped down on the bed. “David, I was -” She stopped, clearly reluctant to go on.

“What?” he asked as he hung the last of the jackets in the wardrobe.

“Well, you know a lot about the Doctor, right?”

He knew where this was going. “Right…”

"How is it that he could look like you and now look like him? I've asked him, and he's never really answered."

David crossed his arms and propped his chin in his hand. "I'm not sure if I should say. He obviously doesn't want to tell you."

"I don't know. Sometimes I think he thinks he's explained something when he's just said some words." She shrugged.

David laughed. "Yes. He does, I'll grant you that. Okay, I'll tell you. How to explain?" He thought for a moment. "When a Time Lord dies, his body changes to save his life. It's completely rewritten: new face, new personality, could switch gender, could even not look human. Or Time Lord. Whatever. The process is called 'regeneration.' The old Doctor no longer exists, and the new one can remember all of his old lives, but he's a completely new person."

She nodded absently, trying to digest the information. "So, when he looked like you, he died and became him?"

"I assume so. I didn't get to finish filming my episodes, so I don't know exactly how it happened. You never know when the writers will make up something new." He grimaced as a thought occurred to him. "That's so weird. Do you think things happen here and cause the writers there to write, or do the writers there create what happens here?"

Amy, intent on her own interests, completely ignored the question. "So, he really can't die, then. He just changes."

"Not exactly. He can only do it twelve times. And it's possible he could die for good before the regeneration happens."

"Oh. How many times has he done it?"

"Ten times. No, wait." He negated the statement with a wave of his hand. "There was one regeneration where he didn't change, so he's regenerated eleven times. Eleven men."

"And they were all different?" David noticed that while Amy was curious, she accepted each strange concept without batting an eye.

"Outwardly, yes. Deep down, he's always the Doctor."

"What does that mean?"

"Well, he's always travelling, helps people in trouble, very brave, never carries a weapon. Very clever, very stubborn, horrible fashion sense." Amy grinned at that. "Everything else is changeable. He's been a man of action, a sort of a clown, an arrogant bastard. Well, he never really stops being an arrogant bastard."

Amy licked her lips before gazing at him coyly. "What was he like when he was you?"

David stiffened. "No. He was never me. I'm not him." He turned away from her, pretending to straighten the clothes in the wardrobe.

"I mean, what was he like when he looked like you. You played him, right? You could play his character now." She leaned forward, eager to catch a glimpse of the Doctor's former persona.

David turned and wagged his finger at her. "Oh, no. I'm not doing that."

"Oh please?" Amy clasped her hands together like a child asking for a treat. "I want to see what he was like. Just a line, any line."

He bowed his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. "No! I am not going to pretend I'm him."

"Don't pretend. You’re an actor. Just play your character. Please? Just for me?"

"No." David slammed the wardrobe closed and strode out of the room. Amy trotted up next to him.

"I'm sorry. I crossed a line there, didn't I?"

He stopped in his tracks and whirled on her. Startled by the cold fury in his eyes, she backed against the corridor wall. "Yes, you did,” he stated in a low growl. “I'm not the Doctor. I never was. I'm not even me anymore. You want to know about him? Fine, I'll tell you. Whatever you want to know.” He advanced on her until the tip of his nose almost touched hers. “But I will never pretend to be him, ever again. Got it?"

"Yes. Of course. I'm sorry, David. I should have realized..."

"Yes, you should have." He strode off again, and she followed him to the console room in silence.

Chapter Text

Life in the TARDIS was less frenetic than David had ever imagined. He’d always thought that the Doctor jumped directly from one adventure to the next, and as he tried to remember the history of the show, he recalled a few times that he did explicitly, but he should have realized that the companions, at the very least, needed food and sleep, however little of both the Doctor required.

The Doctor definitely loved travelling through time and the universe, and Amy’s penchant for new experiences drove him to jump from one place and time to the next until the humans dropped from exhaustion, but very few of the excursions resulted in dangerous situations. In fact, once the Doctor discovered that David had rested, he took them to view a collapsing binary system in which the two stars were about to collide, to watch the landing of Charles Lindbergh in Paris, to assist in the building of the medical center of a new human colony on Tau Ceti 3 in 4221, and to attend a jousting tournament in medieval England, and the most dangerous situation they encountered was of the Doctor’s own making, when he inadvertently insulted a knight’s mount while speaking in horse. David was fascinated by each new time and place to explore, and the non-stop journey succeeded in distracting him from brooding about going home. When he returned to his room afterwards, he fell into an immediate deep sleep.

They spent the next few days (or so it seemed to David; time in the TARDIS passed by waking periods and sleeping periods, not anything so fixed as days) parked in space while the Doctor worked on the TARDIS and did other Doctor-y things, though David wasn't sure what they were. He liked to have an audience around, so he sometimes insisted on someone accompanying him, resulting in impromptu fencing matches, rounds of liratu-ta (a sport from Algol 4 which David was particularly bad at, since it required four arms and eyes on the back of your head, but the Doctor seemed to enjoy and excel at anyway), and karaoke sessions. However, more often than not, the Doctor would simply disappear into the TARDIS and re-emerge hours later. David found it a bit disconcerting, because the Doctor would waltz in and continue whatever conversation he'd been having, as if he'd just been gone a few seconds.

Rory and Amy took this time to catch up on their own lives. Rory enjoyed browsing the TARDIS library for books on advanced medical knowledge, looking for concepts he could use in his nursing career. The Doctor had cautioned him on stealing technology from the future, and he was careful to discuss anything he found with him before taking any notes on it. Amy, on the other hand, evaded all of David's questions about what she did for a living, calling herself a "freelancer" without specifying what exactly she was freelancing. The couple also spent a lot of time together just doing normal things - cooking and eating meals, going on walks, enjoying the facilities the TARDIS had to offer, watching films from the extensive video library - and David made sure to give them their space.

This left him a lot of free time to himself. He tried to keep himself occupied to avoid falling into a depression, and one activity he enjoyed was exploring the TARDIS, searching for places he had seen in the show as well as seeking out the new and unusual that he knew was hidden among the endless corridors. He once found an entire theatre, with what looked like seating for over a thousand people, and he entertained himself by walking out onto the stage and performing several scenes from Hamlet to an imaginary audience. One room seemed to be open to space. From the entrance, there was a ten-foot square of floor, and then it just ended, with no walls or ceiling, just a door and infinity studded with stars in all directions. And he found a room with shelves and shelves of bottles of crystalline lumps and powders, none of which were labelled. Almost everything was covered with a thick layer of dust, though there were many bootprints on the floor and here and there, a few of the bottles were clean.

His favourite discovery was an apple orchard with some of the best fresh apples he had ever tasted, and he found himself returning there often, just to sit and read, taking advantage of the extensive collection of books in his room and the library. He alternated between researching about his new universe and devouring books of plays from the future.

It became quite apparent that his initial conjecture that Amy was the Doctor's primary companion was correct. What time she didn't spend with Rory, she spent with the Doctor, helping him with his activities around the TARDIS, dredging him for stories about time and space, and making suggestions about where to go next. This was fine by David: while he got along with her in general, he wasn't her fiance or her "Raggedy Doctor," and he was glad to be spared her bluntness and her overwhelming need for attention. It also gave him the opportunity to get to know Rory a lot better.

The two men kept each other company whenever the Doctor and Amy were otherwise occupied, and together, they started working through the TARDIS' collection of sci-fi and action movies, taking full advantage of the giant screen, surround sound, and incredibly comfy armchairs in the entertainment room. As Serenity came to an end, David, slouched almost horizontal in his chair, snaked a long arm over to the nearby table to grab his pop and slurp a mouthful through its straw.

Rory was lying on the sofa, head on the cushioned armrest. “Now that was a great film! You said that’s from a show on the telly? Couldn’t tell. I got lost only at a couple of points.”

David held his cup on his chest. “Yeah, one of my favourites. It’s called Firefly. I’ll bet we can find it over there.” He jerked his head in the direction of the shelves of media, but had no desire to move at all.

“I’d love to watch it, if it’s as good as the film. Got time. When Amy’s off with the Doctor, it’s usually for eight hours or more.”

David detected a hint of disquiet in his friend’s voice. He suspected that Rory was not quite sure what to make of Amy and the Doctor. “Hey. You okay?”

“Yeah. Fine.” Rory grabbed the remote and popped the disc drive open, then jumped up to put the movie away. “The TARDIS really needs to invest in electronic storage. Why?”

“Because you don’t sound fine.”

Rory put the disc in its case and returned it to the shelf. He pored over the titles of the films and finally broke his silence as he pulled out another case. “Here it is. Firefly.” He crossed back to the player and loaded the first disc, then flopped back down on the sofa. “Okay. Yes. I’m not fine. It’s just that, well, tomorrow’s our wedding.”

David jerked into a half-sitting position. “What? No one told me that. Congratulations!”

“No. You don’t get it. Tomorrow’s our wedding. Tomorrow’s always our wedding. No matter what day it is.” As the western-style Firefly theme music started playing from the menu screen, Rory laid back and stared at the ceiling. “He came on the day before our wedding to fly Amy around the universe. Then she kissed him. And then he jumped out of a cake at my bachelor party and bundled me in here. It's been the day before our wedding ever since.”

“Oh. I see.” David dropped his cup back on the table and laid back in his chair, staring at the ceiling, too. “The Doctor always complicates things.”

“‘Complicated’ is not the word. ‘Bizarre’ is the word. ‘Surreal.’ Maybe ‘psychotic.’”

“Yeah.” David snorted a laugh. “Yeah. Those are definitely better words for this situation.”

“Thing is, don’t get me wrong. I don’t think the Doctor is doing anything. He’s an alien and he doesn’t act like a human, and I get that, but he seems to be… scared of anything personal. Almost like the way a little kid will go ‘ew’ when he sees kissing, he’s like that with us. And he was upset when he told me Amy had kissed him. He really didn’t want it.”

“If it makes you feel any better, I think you’re right.” He stared at the armrest and started picking at it with his fingernail. “He got burned very badly by a human, in his last life. Not by her, really, but by losing her. I think he’s scared of getting involved with anyone other than someone who will live as long as he will.”

“I think it’s more than that. I think he just doesn’t get that kind of thing. But it doesn’t matter. It’s not him. It’s Amy. I don’t think… I’m not sure… I don’t even know why I’m here. Amy’s been talking about her Raggedy Doctor since she was seven. When we were kids, she made Doctor dolls and drew police boxes. She made me dress up in a blue shirt and brown trousers she had torn holes in, with white trainers, and eat fish fingers dipped in custard - which is disgusting, by the way - and I had to tell her that I’d fly her away -”

“Oh! The brown suit!” David exclaimed, unable to stop himself. “Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t mean to be rude.” He had pieced together what must have happened, that his Doctor had regenerated wearing the brown suit and Amy had met the new Doctor just afterwards. Holes in the suit? That death must have been particularly violent. He felt bad for his Doctor.

“What?” Rory was annoyed.

“Nothing important. I just remembered something. Please, go on. Sorry.”

Rory pursed his lips. “I think you see what I mean.”

“Yeah. She was obsessed with him then, and now…”

“Now he’s right there.” Rory sat up, almost pleading with David for some kind of help. “He’s the Doctor, David. He’s this incredible alien who takes her all across the universe and into the past and the future. How can I compete with that? I'm just a nurse. I've lived in Leadworth all my life. I don't even have it in me to become a doctor, a proper doctor, not like him. She doesn’t even look at me when he’s around.” He grabbed his head in both hands and tore at his hair.

"And the worst part is, I can’t just walk away. Amy's the only one for me. Always been. So I'm stuck here being second best." He flopped back down onto the sofa, staring up at the ceiling.

An uncomfortable silence fell between the two friends. David could see exactly what Rory was thinking: from his point of view, he must only see when Amy is with the Doctor, not remembering that Amy spends most of her time with her fiance. He probably also thought that she only spent time with him when she couldn't be with the Doctor. It was a lot easier to see clearly from outside of both relationships.

And what did he see? Rory worshipped Amy. The Doctor was very attached to Amy, as he always was to his favourite companion, but David saw no signs of romantic love in him. And Amy? It was clear that she loved Rory, but she was also obsessed with the Doctor. Was she in love with the Time Lord? Was her obsession platonic but stronger than her love for Rory? He couldn’t tell. There was one thing that he did notice, though...

"You know, Rory," David began tentatively, not sure if the man actually wanted advice, "I think there's one thing you should think about. You're here, in the TARDIS."

"Oh, don't start that.” His tone dripped with weary irritation. “Amy's always telling me I should be excited to be travelling through space and time. I don't really want this. I want to be home."

"No, no, that's not what I meant. I mean, you're here, with Amy. If she didn't want you, you wouldn't be here. Even if Amy hasn't figured everything out yet, the fact you're still here means she still wants you. You're not second best. At worst, you're tied for first."

There was a brief silence, then Rory replied, "I'm not sure that makes me feel any better."

"It tells you a little about what Amy's thinking."

Another slight pause. "Yeah, it does." Rory rolled over so that he was facing the screen. "I just have to wait and see. I can deal with being 'tied for first' for a bit, I think." He grabbed the remote and thumbed the "play" button, and the two friends settled in to watch the first episode of Firefly.

Chapter Text

As the Doctor whirled around the console adjusting the controls of the craft, he grinned excitedly at Amy. “I thought today I might give us a little surprise. I set the target location to one of the arms of Mutter’s Spiral - your galaxy - and I’m letting the TARDIS choose exactly where and when to land. A destination even I’m not expecting.”

Holding tightly to the railing, David bit back a laugh, knowing full well that the Doctor rarely ended up where he expected to. He surveyed his friends, who were braced against the console: Amy was watching the time rotor, her face shining with excitement, while Rory concentrated on keeping his feet and looked apprehensive. David decided he felt the same as Rory.

The shuddering subsided as the TARDIS’ wheezing silenced, and the three humans jogged after the Doctor down to the doors. The Doctor, of course, always let Amy set the first foot out of the TARDIS if he felt it was safe, and, being far in the back, David only got to hear the first hint of what they were exploring today: the clunk of Amy's foot on a metallic surface. The environment outside the doors was dark enough that David couldn't see anything over the heads of his companions.

"Is this a space station?" Amy's voice drifted back to Rory and David.

The Doctor stepped out next to her, surveying the surroundings. "Nah. Hear that?"

"Hear what?" Amy asked as a reflex, as she was still looking around.

"No, listen first. Then ask. Not the other way around." The Doctor disappeared around the side of the TARDIS, and Rory and David joined Amy, their footfalls echoing in the chamber.

"Shh! Be quiet. Listen," Amy chided them, as if she were the one trying to get them to notice something.

The area they were in looked like a storage room. Three walls had deep built-in metal shelves ranging to the ceiling, stuffed with boxes and containers, and the center of the room was piled with crates; all of the items were heavy-duty plastic or metal. Each container was clearly labeled with what appeared to be serial numbers. A heavy double door with what looked like a control panel next to it occupied the wall which didn't have any shelves.

"I don't hear anything, Doctor," Amy called to the man who was inspecting the nearest containers.

"The engines, Amy,” he answered without turning. Pulling the sonic screwdriver out, he zapped a container and peeked inside.

"What engines? Are we back on Starship UK?" The girl's eyes lit up as she whirled in place, looking for clues to confirm her conclusion.

"No, no. We are on a spaceship, not a space station. The propulsion gives it away. Can't you hear it? You will." He reached into the opened box and fingered something inside, then closed it and sonicked it shut.

David frowned, not hearing any engines. He knelt down and spread a hand on the floor. The surface was dusty and he could feel a subtle, uneven vibration.

"Ah, there!" The Doctor's exclamation startled David, and he looked up to see the Time Lord pointing at him. "David's got it right. Can you feel it?"

"Um, I guess. The floor's vibrating." He shrugged.

"Exactly." The Doctor spun on his heel to point at Amy. "Use all your senses! Not just your eyes. So much to learn if you pay attention to all of the input." He dropped down to his hands and knees and licked the floor.

Staring at the Doctor, David rose to his feet, bemused and slightly disgusted. Rory sidled up next to him. "How'd you know to do that?"

David shrugged. "It’s a common trope in stories. If you can’t hear something, try feeling for it."

Jumping up, the Doctor circled around the room and read the containers. “They’re not engines, though. Wrong kind of hum. Erratic. More like a star whale, Amy, but smaller. Much smaller. More like a star manatee. Small enough that it doesn’t have those slow graceful strokes. You can feel it jerk. And it hums. Sings. This is a colony ship. Boxes full of supplies and personal effects.” He waved a hand over a stack. “These five have all the same number marking. Probably belongs to a person or family group.”

Amy bounded her way to the door. “A shipful of colonists, on the ultimate adventure! Can’t wait to meet them!”

“Can’t. This is a long journey. Probably in suspended animation. But we can meet the crew. Polthites, from Polthara V.” The Doctor joined Amy at the door, but gestured back at the containers. “That’s the script the numbers are written in.” He started punching keys on the panel by the door, and the seal on the door broke with a whoosh. As he pushed on the heavy door, he commented, "Beautiful planet. One of the most serene inhabited planets in the universe. Like the Eye of Orion, only with pubs. Fascinating race, they are. Completely honest, don’t even have a word in their language for 'lie.' Or 'honesty,' for that matter. Just make sure they don't touch you."

The Doctor stepped out into a rather narrow corridor of brushed metal devoid of ornamentation. As the humans followed him, David noticed that it was eerily quiet, which was to be expected on a ship filled primarily with sleeping colonists. The last out of the storage room, he closed the door, hearing it seal itself. The corridor was lit, but only one lamp in three was on. The Doctor selected a direction and started walking, with Amy right next to him, and Rory and David following.

“Why not?” Amy was asking the Doctor. “Poison skin or covered in thorns or something?”

“Oh, nothing so mundane. Though, I should take you to meet the pointy people. Vinvocci. Green. Look like cactus. Don’t call them that, though. It’s an insult. They’re not as poky as you might expect. You can actually hug them without injury...”

Amy interrupted him. “But why shouldn’t we let these pole people touch us?”

“Polthites, Amy. Use the right words for things. Because the Polthites are contact -”

The Doctor never finished his sentence as two green aliens stepped out from a side corridor, leveling knives at the group. They were humanoid-shaped, but they had three eyes arranged in a triangle, no visible ears or nose, a mouth like a lizard’s with a slim, non-forked tongue, and bony ridges running over the tops of their heads. They wore identical dark gray jumpsuits and heavy boots, and held their weapons with slim, very long fingers. Their skin was extremely smooth, though the emerald green of their faces dulled to yellow on their necks.

“Aliens?” the Polthite on the left barked. “What? Why?” Both aliens lunged at the group.

“Run!” yelled the Doctor. As he turned to run, Rory dashed forward and grabbed Amy to pull her back, and the couple used the wall to propel themselves back down the corridor. But David was frozen. With the talk of green cactus people, David had expected to see non-humanoid aliens, but the sight of his first real, strange aliens combined with their sudden appearance with weapons pointed at him shocked him into terrified immobility. He stared like an animal in headlights as the aliens rushed at him, unable to fight or flee, though at the last moment he was able to feebly shield himself with his arms as one of them reached forward and grabbed his hand.

His head spun as a hostile consciousness invaded his mind and picked through his thoughts. Screaming in fear and anger, he screwed his eyes shut and clamped his hands on either side of his head, as if trying to squeeze the intruder out physically, but there was nothing he could do to stop it. He heard as if from far away the one in front of him grunting in pain then exclaiming to his friend in a panicked voice, “Four aliens! They just arrived in a… I don’t know what it is! But they’re not part of it. By Lady Maroli, it hurts!”

The invasive presence in David’s mind evaporated as soon as the grip on his hand disappeared, and he fell to his knees and retched, the convulsions of his stomach shaking his whole body. He heard the Doctor shout his name, then more voices and the sound of boots thudding on metal as he collapsed against the corridor wall.

. _ . _ . _ . _ .

Given that when he came to, Rory was patiently sitting by his side while the Doctor and Amy talked in low tones, David realized he must have been out for a least for a few minutes. His vision was blurred and filled with flashing lights that sent stabs of pain through his already aching head, and nausea threatened to expel whatever was still left of his breakfast. Through his haze, he could make out the outline of a Polthite standing behind the nurse, and he stiffened in fear, flattening himself against the wall behind his back. Rory had begun checking him over but when his patient jerked, he turned to follow his stare, then patted his shoulder. “It’s okay. They’re friendly. They scared off the ones that attacked you.”

Some part of David knew that Rory simply didn’t understand. He wasn’t afraid of being attacked; his mind had been invaded and now he was nearly incapacitated, and it terrified him. He tried to twist, to scramble away from the alien, but his limbs wouldn't respond correctly, jerking uncontrollably.

“David, stop! Calm down!” Rory tried to hold him down and got smacked in the face by a flailing arm.

The Doctor dropped down in front of David and took a firm grasp of his legs while Rory pinned his arms. “David... David! Stop!” The Doctor tried to explain between grunts as he restrained the panicking man. “She won’t do it again... She has to touch you, and she won’t... She’s promised.”

Finally getting control of himself, David gulped for air as he fell limp against the wall. “What… what was that? What did she do to me?”

“She didn’t do it. The one who did it is gone.” The Doctor gestured down the corridor. “They are contact telepaths. He touched you and read your conscious mind.” He helped David shift so that he was sitting against the wall.

“Touch. Like you.” He was starting to regain control of his body, and he scrubbed down his face with both hands.

The Doctor nodded, then peered into David's eyes, like he was trying to diagnose his mental state. “Like me. But not like me. Far stronger, and not gentle. They read all your waking thoughts at once. Not a pleasant experience for anyone not used to it. Could do far more if they want, too.”

“Keep her away from me.” He held his head in his hands.

“I apologize for the intrusion.” The Polthite’s voice was fluty and serene, almost monotone. “Those were pirates, and they wanted information on who you were. It was the most expedient method. We also want such information.”

The Doctor motioned to the Polthite. "David, this is Egith, captain of the Hedak's Steed, the ship we're on. They are transporting settlers to one of their colonies. The men who attacked you were pirates. We just happened to be in their way."

"You are welcome on our ship." The captain stepped towards the Doctor and held up a hand.

The Doctor stood up and shook his head. “No. We don’t greet like that.” He stepped back and turned partially towards his friends. “Standard greeting between Polthites. Each party then knows everything about the other. No secrets. No lies.” He turned back to her and crossed his arms over his chest for two seconds. “We formally request non-contact parley with your species.”

Egith lowered her hand. “You’ve had parley with us before, then. Your request is granted.” As the Doctor nodded, her eyes raked across the other three. "How did you get on my ship, and what are you doing here?”

"I landed my ship in one of your cargo holds" - he gestured back down the hallway - "and we're here to look around and meet people. Which we have. What's this about pirates? Since when have Polthites turned to piracy?"

"Since the civil war, Doctor. Those men were rebels. Their ship is grappled onto ours, and they are attempting to stop our journey..."

"...By taking your navigators.” He nodded in comprehension. “How many do you have left?"

"Just one. They have taken one and killed the other.” She displayed no regret for the loss of her navigators, her voice still and calm. “I only have six crew, and it is not enough to stop them for long. I've started to wake up some of the colonists, but they won't be useful for another day."

"You have another four able bodies here, then, Captain. Well, three and David, but he’ll be up and around in no time.” He waved dismissively at the incapacitated man on the floor. “How many rebels are you up against?"

"Four, probably. They work in small groups, from small ships. I'm not sure where their ship is attached to ours."

"Then we need to defend your remaining navigator, and then find that ship and get back your other navigator."

"Doctor?" Amy stepped forward and laid a hand on his shoulder. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

“Amy, we don’t have much time…” he started, but saw the concern on Amy’s face. He turned to Egith. “A moment. Amy wants to talk. I might talk, too.”

Amy, the Doctor, and Rory knelt near David to include him in the conversation, though the actor’s unfocused eyes were fixed on Egith and he seemed to be mostly concentrating on grasping at his stomach.

"Doctor, if there's a war going on here, should we be getting involved?” Amy asked in a very low tone. “We don't know anything about what they're fighting over."

The Doctor put a hand on her shoulder. "Amy, there are hundreds, maybe thousands of people on this ship who will die, stranded in space, if that last navigator is taken. Does it matter which side they're on?"

"Can't they find their way without a navigator? Doesn't the ship have a computer or something to chart the course?"

The Doctor shook his head. "A Polthite navigator is a very rare being. One in a hundred thousand. Able to read minds without touching. They're the only ones who can communicate with the creature that's driving the ship. Without one, the ship won't move. Or it'll go wherever the creature wants.” He didn’t need to continue for Amy to understand the likely conclusion of that scenario.

“Then we’re not taking sides.”

“No. We are helping make sure these travellers get where they’re going.” He hopped up and instructed them at a normal volume, “Help David up. We are going to meet the navigator first. Make sure he’s well-defended.”

“No!” David jerked against the wall, knocking the back of his head hard against it. "I’m not going anywhere near a telepath!”

Egith explained in her soothing voice, “Omnipaths do not read like we do. Ponos can hear your surface thoughts, and if he tries, can get a reading of your personality. He will not hurt you.”

“If it makes you feel any better,” the Doctor added airily, “he’s probably already read you. See, it doesn’t hurt.”

Rory and Amy helped David to his feet. He was nauseous and unstable, couldn't see through the flashes in his eyes, and his head was pounding. He stood almost doubled over, arms crossed over his stomach. "I'm no good to anyone like this. I should go back to... augh, urgh!" He dropped back to his knees and finished emptying his stomach on the metal floor.

"You will feel better soon, and we have medicine that will help on the bridge. It is best that you come with us," the captain stated. "It is far worse for you than normal. The experience for outsiders is normally only slightly uncomfortable, but I believe the pirate was trying to harm you."

"Come along, David. We'll get you sorted." The Doctor's tone was irritatingly cheerful.

David just wanted to curl up somewhere and die, but it didn't seem that anyone would let him. With Rory's help, he regained his feet, and the group moved on towards the bridge, with David leaning heavily on his friend’s arm. As he stumped along, he realized he was also upset at his initial reaction to the sudden appearance of the Polthites: he had panicked. He had been paralyzed, and if they had attacked, he'd be dead right now. Neither Amy nor Rory had frozen. In the heat of the moment, he'd been proven a coward.

"How are you doing?" Rory asked after a couple of minutes.

"Better," David lied. "I can see a bit."

"You should probably go back to the TARDIS to recover, but I don't have a key. For being called the Doctor, he really doesn't have much sympathy for injury."

There, David mused. Rory thinks I'm a coward, too. Send me back to the TARDIS to get me out of the way. I'm a liability. He sighed and concentrated on putting one foot in front of the other, trying to cover his shame by pretending that he felt better than he did. "Nah. I'm good. I can walk on my own." He let go of Rory's arm and bowed his head, stumbling to the bridge by following the heels of his friend's shoes.

Chapter Text

By the time Rory and David caught up to the captain, the Doctor, and Amy just outside the door to the bridge, the flashing lights in David's eyes had subsided and he could see, though a bit blurrily. Egith paused to warn them.

"Please understand that Ponos might be a bit strange to you. Omnipaths can hear everyone, and they spend their lives trying to block them out. It is very stressful and they never have peace. It tends to make them a bit... different."

"It's ok." Amy glanced at the Doctor. "We're used to different."

Egith tapped a few buttons on the door panel, then pulled hard on the door as the seal broke. She motioned for the visitors to precede her.

The bridge was a cramped little room, with the same plain metallic walls as the rest of the ship and, oddly, no large window or viewscreen to see out. There were three workstations: two with a number of monitors and control panels and a third with a tired-looking Polthite sitting in its chair with all of its eyes closed. Near him, against the wall, was a pile of blankets, a pillow, and what looked like some personal effects. Two more Polthites stood near the door with knives in sheaths, obviously guards.

"Ponos. We have visitors. Aliens." Egith stepped over to him and held up her hand. Ponos opened his eyes, then touched her hand with his. He nodded, then stood to meet the newcomers as Egith moved to touch hands with the guards.

David felt something flicker across his mind and he knew he'd been read. The touch was so light that he wasn't sure he would have noticed it if he hadn't had the more violent experience before this. The tickle was almost soothing, but he had to suppress a shiver at the thought of another alien in his brain. Clenching his fists, he concentrated on observing the navigator Ponos. He wouldn't be able to tell him apart from the other Polthites except for the blue symbol on his uniform and the haunted look in his three eyes. Even though David could not read Polthite facial expressions, this one's eyes told him of the constant noise in his head and that he was weary of the fight against it.

"You've come to help us." Ponos spoke with a slow and tired voice, but it expressed his gratitude. "It is appreciated." He peered at each of them in turn, starting with Amy. "The one who refuses to choose. Which one? Equal but opposite." He turned to Rory. "The one who waits. The one who doubts. But the one with true conviction.” Stepping in front of David, he tipped his head to the side. “The one who pretends to be what he is not. But he cannot hide forever.” Lastly, he turned to the Doctor. “I cannot hear you. That is exciting.” Though his voice maintained the near monotone of the Polthites, his eyes danced.

“Is it now? You really don’t want to be in here.” The Doctor tapped his temple.

“Becoming acquainted with someone, instead of instantly knowing him. You are exciting, Doctor.”

“Not an adjective I normally hear. It’s usually ‘crazy’. ‘Weird’. ‘Mad’. ‘Cool’. I hear ‘cool’ a lot." He straightened his bow tie.

“Only when he says it himself,” Amy added.

"The medicine, sir." One of the Polthite guards appeared in front of David with a tray holding a small cup filled with a green liquid. "It will help." The actor glanced at the Doctor, who nodded, then grabbed the cup and downed the liquid in one gulp. It was a good thing he did, for it tasted awful. Dumping the cup back on the tray, he nodded a thanks and, leaning against a wall, slid down to the floor and closed his eyes.

The Doctor turned back to the navigator. "It seems your efforts are concentrated on defending this room.”

“Yes. It is my place of sleep and my place of toil now.” Ponos gestured at the pile of blankets and the chair he had been sitting in.

“And you have only these two guards?”

“Two others. Sleeping in cycles, round and round.” David noticed that Ponos' placid monotone and unusual speaking cadence were very soothing. He became irritated by the constant interruption from the Doctor's exuberant voice.

The Doctor began circling around the room, inspecting the workstations and the quality of the door. “So we’re going to recover your missing navigator and convince your attackers to leave. Do you know how many there are?”

“Three have approached where I can hear. Who knows how many beyond that?” Ponos was no longer looking at the Doctor. He seemed to be staring nowhere, his three eyes each looking in a slightly different direction.

"Do you have a schematic of the ship?"

"Yes." Ponos moved to one of the workstations and touched a few buttons. A 3-D projection of the ship appeared above it. "We." He pointed at a spot near the front. "I hear." He curved his fingers into a sphere and held them among the hologram.

"So, the back quarter of the ship. Five decks. And we landed here." The Doctor pointed at a spot just inside the navigator's range.

"Yes."

“Any places you can rule out?”

Egith answered the question. “No. We haven’t the manpower to go searching back there.”

The Doctor nodded. “Okay. Split into two groups and search all of the decks. Don’t want to split more. Don’t want anyone to be alone.”

The mere concept of wandering around the ship with hostile Polthites with knives lurking around each corner sent David’s heart rate skyrocketing. If they could incapacitate him by just touching him, it’d be easy enough for them to finish the job with the weapon. He shivered.

Amy spoke up. “Then what are we looking for?”

“The ship will have drilled a hole in the outer hull,” the captain explained. “It is simple to recognize.”

Amy frowned, confused. “It just punches a hole in the hull of this ship? And you couldn’t feel it?"

Egith nodded. "The ship is large and heavy, and the hull is thin. It is not a difficult task."

"I thought ships had to have thick, sturdy hulls."

"It's sturdy enough," the Doctor commented. "But this is a one-way trip to a colony, and the ship will be pulled apart for material. It has to be built cheaply and hold as much as it can. And it was built in peacetime, no worries about pirates."

"That's why they carry knives," came a voice from behind Amy. David was still a bit unsteady, but feeling a lot better than he had expected in such a short time. He felt it was time to join them.

Amy moved aside to let him into the conversation. "What?"

"Because guns are too dangerous. They can blow a hole in the hull.” He pointed at the doors in the schematic. “The doors are all heavily sealed to prevent a breach from depressurizing more than one section. Besides, there's a huge advantage to getting a Polthite close in to his enemies, where he can touch them." He swallowed to calm himself down at that thought.

Astonished, Amy gaped at him for a moment. "How do you always figure these things out?"

As David answered, “Lots of sci-fi movies,” the Doctor replied over him, "Watch and listen, and think, Amy. You feeling better, David?"

"A lot." This time, he was telling the truth.

"Polthite restoratives are very potent. They developed them when they discovered the adverse reactions they sometimes have on visitors."

"We do not intend to harm anyone," Egith assured them.

"Well, we have a lot to do. Amy, Rory, you search this deck and this deck.” The Doctor pointed at two different levels. “David and I will take the other three. Together. Don't split up. Check each room. Look for a hole bored in the wall large enough for a Polthite to climb through. If you find it, come back up immediately. Try to be quiet. Watch your backs, and don't let them touch you. Run if you see them. They’re not fast."

"Would it help if we covered up?" asked Amy.

"No." Egith shook her head. "It would take material at least this thick to stop the read." She held up two long fingers indicating a space of over a half an inch. Disappointed, Amy nodded.

"Okay. Sit tight, Captain. Come along, David." The four travellers strode out of the door, and they heard the guards setting the seal behind them. When they reached the stairs, the two groups separated, and the Doctor and David started their room-to-room search.

The vast majority of the rooms held colonists in individual suspended animation tanks, each of which required a mass of machinery to maintain and monitor each person. Glass windows revealed the faces of the occupants, and finding them quite eerie, David tried to keep his gaze averted when walking by them. The rooms were large and packed enough to require having to walk through each of them, inspecting the walls. The other spooky thing was the silence in this part of the ship. Every creak of the ship was like a gunshot, and their best efforts to move quietly still resulted in sounding like rhinoceroses. David began talking to the Doctor, just to break the silence.

"I don't see how Ponos can remain so calm, when he's the obvious target of these pirates,” he commented as they walked among the tanks. “It's got to be terrifying."

"Well, he knows it'll be a while before they can get to him. He's got early warning and capable guards, after all. He just needs to keep them." The Doctor talked while inspecting every item they passed.

David kept his head up, watching for movement around them. It suddenly occurred to him what the Doctor was getting at. "Oh! That's why they're waking up some colonists. Not for more fighters, just for more time."

"Right. Then the pirates pick off the colonists, not the guards, when they send them down here to maintain the cells. They're vulnerable out here, and when Ponos sleeps. Which is why he is so erratic. I doubt he's slept in days."

"Erratic?” David stared at the Doctor. “Ponos is a picture of serenity!"

The Doctor continued to creep along. "To you, maybe. To a Polthite, he's downright unstable."

"Really?"

The Doctor stopped and faced David, wagging a finger at him. "Think about it. If you humans could read each others' minds and did so all the time, how would you feel? Everything you're thinking about, everything you're feeling, everyone would know. You'd be an open book. The only way to have any privacy would be to hide away all those thoughts and emotions. Suppress them. Even keel. Don’t have the thought, can’t be read. They’ve been like that for thousands of years. To them, Ponos is psychotic.”

David took a moment to try to imagine forcing himself to suppress or ignore things going through his head, but he couldn’t fathom it. It was like the old joke of “try not to think about a pink elephant.” The mental fortitude these aliens have must be phenomenal. “We must be completely strange to them, then.”

“I expect so. Crazy, emotional, noisy aliens, we are. That’s why they’re usually very receptive to non-contact parley. Regular diplomacy is hard for them, but touching one of us is profoundly disturbing. Nothing on this level. Next one, David!” The Doctor swept out of the room, with David jogging behind him.

“Interesting thought.” It comforted him a little that the Polthites didn’t actually want to read his mind.

When they descended to their next assigned level, the Doctor squatted down to inspect the floor. David spotted that and paused on the stairs, keeping an eye out for anything down the corridor.

“David, come look at this.” The Doctor beckoned with one hand as he touched a spot on the floor with the other.

“No. Don’t want to disturb whatever it is you’re looking at.”

The Doctor was pleased at his response. “Good! Still using that rattled-up brain of yours. There are footprints in the dust here.”

“Recent?”

The Doctor pulled out his screwdriver and scanned it. “Yes. Either it’s on this level, or they’ve been to this level for a specific reason.” He retreated to the stairs and checked the steps going down. “Definitely the first. Footprints on the stairs are older.”

David’s heart was pounding in his chest. The pirates were probably close by, and they were armed, both physically and psychically. “If we’re sure they’re here, we should get Rory and Amy. The pirates will outnumber us. This is probably a trap.”

“It probably is. They’ve heard us coming. Let’s walk right into it.” The Doctor strode down the corridor, leaving David sputtering on the stairs and wishing that the Doctor would share his plan with him. He willed his legs to move to follow the Doctor, keeping a lookout behind and ahead of them, while holding his hand over his heart, trying to still it.

“Hello!” the Doctor called down the dim corridor at the top of his lungs, making David wince. He came up and stopped five feet behind the man in tweed. Clenching his fists so that his nails dug into his palms, he couldn’t convince his feet to move him any closer. “We know you’re there. Come on out now! Come talk to the Doctor!”

Three aliens issued from a door just ahead, brandishing their knives in front of them while their eyes flicked back and forth, assessing the Doctor and David. One stepped out in front of the other two and declared, “You’re not armed.” He had the same serene monotone as Egith and Ponos.

“Why would I be armed? I’ve already got two perfectly serviceable ones.” The Doctor waved his arms aloft. “I’m the Doctor. This is David.”

“Saylid.” He indicated his companions. “Gilt. Ana.” He held his hand towards the Doctor in the standard Polthite greeting, though he didn’t move, tacitly requiring the Doctor to advance to them.

“Non-contact parley.”

Saylid lowered his arm. “Granted. What are you hoping to accomplish here, Doctor?”

“Negotiation.” The Doctor held his arms open wide. “Return the navigator to this ship, and we’ll let you go without informing the homeworld of your crimes here.”

“You speak as if you have any say in the matter.” The incongruity between the threat in the words and the placidness of the voice unnerved David even further.

“I do.” The Doctor clapped his hands together. “Because this is the best offer you’ll get. If you don’t take it, I’ll have to stop you and retrieve the navigator myself.”

Saylid’s eyes narrowed. “What’s in it for you? We know that you just arrived and weren’t involved with this ship.” Ana glanced briefly at David, and he realized that this was the Polthite who had touched him earlier and gotten their information from him. He involuntarily flinched at the thought of the alien in his mind again.

“The lives of the colonists. I’m not going to let you take the last navigator and let them drift in space forever.” The Doctor’s timbre changed subtly; the pirate was entering dangerous territory.

“You are expecting me to believe that you happened to be on this ship and are dealing with us out of the goodness of your heart? By Lady Maroli, you must think me an idiot. What are they paying you?” Saylid advanced a few steps, his men keeping close behind him.

“I am not paid. I don’t even carry money. What would I do with money?” The Doctor shrugged.

“You’re not employed by the State, then?”

“You could call me a freelancer.”

“No one to miss you then.” He jerked his head and his two men surrounded the Doctor, forcing him against the wall by holding their knives to his stomach.

“Oh, plenty people to miss me, actually. Just not your government.” David couldn’t tell if the Doctor was unconcerned or simply blustering.

Saylid strode to David, who, backing up in a panic, tripped over his own feet and fell hard on the floor. He tried to scramble away, but the Polthite squatted and put his knife blade against his throat. “I can tell you’re not paid. No one would pay for this kind of incompetence.” The smooth, calm tone of his voice contrasted with the mockery in his words. Feeling the metal edge against his skin, David held himself as still as possible. He couldn’t stop his terrified tremors.

Gilt reached out and covered the Doctor’s cheek with his palm. “Captain, I can’t read him.”

“What?” Saylid’s face wrinkled in what David suspected was a frown. “Try harder.”

“I have. I can’t.”

“Then he’s useless. Kill him.”

David saw Gilt pull his arm back to plunge his knife into the Doctor’s stomach, and the Doctor raised his hands, David surmised, in an effort to shield himself. Fear for the Time Lord overwhelmed every other thought, and an image flashed into his mind, of Ana grunting in pain as he grabbed David's arm, and he saw how he could use it. Calling up all of his panic, his terror for himself and for the Doctor, and his anger at the Polthite who invaded his mind, he grabbed Saylid’s arm and pushed all of his rage and hysteria into the alien consciousness as it entered his head. As the actor began to reel from the mental assault, the Polthite screamed and tried to pull away from him, and David felt the blade bite into his throat. Nicked and barely sharp, the metal caught his flesh painfully; he held on to Saylid as the Polthite fell to floor, then staggered back, clamping his hands to his neck.

Having spun around at their captain's scream, the other two pirates rushed to his aid as he fell, and David, fighting the psychic explosion in his head, lunged at them, scrabbling for anything he could catch hold of. This time, he knew what he needed them to know. As his bloody fingers latched onto them, he ignored the agony of two alien minds in his and called up his memories of all of the stories of the Doctor, the Oncoming Storm, the vanquisher of the Daleks, the Cybermen, the Nestene Consciousness, the Great Intelligence, and so many more. When he heard their cries, he showed them the fates of Omega, Sutekh, the Racnoss, and any others he could think of, and as they collapsed, with his last thoughts, he chanted in his mind, Return the navigator. Leave. Return the navigator. Leave. Losing his grip on both consciousness and the pirates, he felt someone catch him in strong arms as everything went black.

. _ . _ . _ . _ .

 

Waking from a deep, dreamless sleep, David’s first thought was that it must be a weekend, as no alarm had woken him up. He began to recognize where he was, in the TARDIS’ sickbay, and he startled fully awake, recalling the last things that had happened to him.

“Doctor? Where are you?” He spotted Rory, who had been sitting in a nearby chair and had jumped up at David’s sudden movement. “Is the Doctor all right?”

“Relax, David. He’s fine. And you’re fine. You’ve been asleep for hours.” Nearing the bed, Rory began checking David’s vitals.

“Hours? But, the pirates….”

“They left. They returned the navigator and left. Dalis was his name. Nice guy.” He grabbed a box from the counter. “Here. You’re going to want this. You haven’t eaten in twelve hours, and what you did eat, you left on the floor.” Opening the box, he revealed a thick sandwich and put it down next to his patient. At the sight of it, David’s stomach grumbled loudly.

“They’re gone? We don’t have to go back there anymore?” Shaking his head with his question, he felt the stiffness of a bandage on his neck, and he groped at it with a hand. Glancing down at himself, he gasped. His jacket had been removed, but the jumper he still wore was drenched in blood. “Is that all mine?”

“It’s not as bad as it looks. Well, not anymore. The cut was deep, nicked your jugular. Lots of blood, but we’ve got Time Lord medicine. It should be long healed by now. Let me see.” Rory peeled off the blood-soaked bandage. “Yup. All done. Not even a scar.” He patted David’s arm. “All good.”

David still hadn’t gotten the reassurance he needed. “We’re not going back, right?”

“No. We’ve already left. I think we’re parked in the Andromeda Galaxy.”

David closed his eyes and sighed with relief, then struggled to sit up. Suspecting the fuzziness in his head was half due to his hunger, he grabbed the sandwich and bit into it. Rory nodded. "I'm going to call the Doctor. He wanted to know when you woke up. Back in a mo'." He trotted out of the sickbay.

David spent the next couple of minutes cramming down the sandwich way too fast. Thus, his mouth was stuffed with bread, turkey, ham, lettuce, and tomato when the Doctor swept in with Amy and Rory.

"Ah, David, finally awake! Feeling better?"

"Mmph."

"Excellent!" Bending over, he peered into David's face, lifting eyelids and trying to look up his nose and into his ears while the actor tried to chew and swallow as fast as he could. "No lasting damage, then, yes?"

David finally got the last bit of the mouthful down. "Except for the aliens tromping through my brain, no." He rolled his eyes, knowing the Doctor wouldn't comprehend his sarcasm.

"Good man!" He stood back and beamed at the actor. "Back to normal in no time! Still, you need some rest. Somewhere peaceful. Not like Polthara peaceful. You wouldn't appreciate that. Not the Eye of Orion. You've already been there. There's this little spot on Raxacoricovarlonpatorius that would do. If only they'd let me back there..." He strode out of the sickbay, David staring after him. He found that bemusement was a common mental state these days.

"Hey." Amy stood at the end of the bed and grinned at him, her hands clasped in front of her. "You're doing better, then. Don't mind him. That's the way he says thanks."

"I don’t bother trying to understand him." He quirked a smile at her.

"He says you're a hero." David stared at Amy, eyebrow cocked. "Well, not in so many words. But he said you took the pirates down. You touched them." The respect in Amy's eyes communicated that she understood how difficult that act had been for him.

"Yeah," Rory cut in. "How did you do that? The Doctor said you touched them and they fell."

David tried to remember; the events were rather fuzzy. "He told me that the Polthites suppress all of their thoughts and emotions to keep things private. And the one that touched me before said that I hurt him. I was so terrified that I took a chance that it would be too much for them to handle. I grabbed his arm and held on as long as I could."

Amy's jaw dropped. "That must have hurt!"

"It kinda tears your brain out, yeah." He shuddered.

"And then you did it again, on the other two?"

"I had to." David himself couldn't believe he had done it a second and third time. "They were about to kill the Doctor." His head suddenly began to ache, and grimacing, he clapped his hands to his temples and squeezed his eyes shut, trying to block out the memories of the psychic intrusions.

Amy darted around the bed and sat down next to David, gathering him into her arms. "Hoy. They're gone. It's okay. That took some real courage, you know." Rory moved to David's other side and patted his shoulder.

"Never been so scared in my life," David breathed.

"It's what you do when you're scared that counts." She clapped him on the back a couple of times.

"Well, it worked out." Rory sat down on the bed. "After we got you here and patched up, we went back to the bridge, and Dalis, the other navigator, walked right in. Said that when the pirates returned to the ship, they let him go right away, and flew off. You scared them good."

David shook his head. "That wasn't me. That was the Doctor. The Doctor scared them."

"Hey, credit where credit is due." Amy's light punch on his arm told him she didn't believe him.

"No, really, it was the Doctor." But Amy jumped up from the bed and handed him the sandwich box, and he knew she wasn't going to listen to him.

"You need to finish that.” She stood with arms akimbo, like a mother scolding her child. “Need more food? Was thinking of ordering a pizza. Chicago-style deep-dish, from actual Chicago."

David grinned. "Yeah, that sounds good." She flounced out of the sickbay.

"Yeah." Rory bit his lip. "Finish that sandwich, and we'll get you back to your room so you can shower and change. Or whatever. And I'll tell the Doctor no more trips for a couple of days."

David sighed in relief. "Rory, you're a lifesaver." Smiling, he took a huge bite of the sandwich.

Chapter Text

“All I’m saying is that the way things are going, we’ll have launched a manned mission to Mars by 2020. 2025 at the latest.” Rory took a biscuit from the package on the table and waved it at Amy, who was leaning against the counter. “I’ll bet you this Jammie Dodger.”

“That’ll be one stale Jammie Dodger.” She snatched it out of his hand and took a bite. “They’ve been saying that forever, and they haven’t even been back to the moon for forty years. They won't make it to Mars by 2050.”

Rory shook his head. “There’s a lot more support for it now, with all the aliens popping up. People want to get out into space.”

"Hey, how about Mr. History tells us who's right?"

She leaned over, sticking her face directly in David's. He had been sitting with his feet up on the table, listening with amusement to the couple's debate. He held his hands up and shook his head. "Hoy, don't drag me into this."

"Come on. You know everything. You must know when humans make it to Mars."

"Why? It's not like I memorized everything about the show." Both Rory and Amy smirked at him skeptically. "Okay, okay, maybe I did. But it's not like the show was history class. They don't give dates for each episode."

"Do humans at least make it to Mars this century?" Rory grabbed a biscuit and stuffed it in his mouth.

"Think so. They spread out all over the galaxy and more, eventually. I just don't know when."

"When what?" came a voice from the door. The Doctor strode in, curiosity plain on his face, though his first target was the package of Jammie Dodgers.

"When do humans make it to Mars? On their own," Amy added as an afterthought.

"2041. First manned mission to Mars. Three humans. First colony in 2058." The Doctor twirled his biscuit among his fingers before finally taking a bite of it.

"You were both wrong," teased David, glancing at Rory and Amy.

Rory shook his head. "I really thought it would be a lot sooner. Technology is advancing so fast these days."

The Doctor shook a finger at him. "Ah, but you see, technology may advance, but application is slow. You can't use technology until you get it right, and you can't be sure you've got it right until you've tested it, and you can't test it until you've built it. Every advance in the microprocessor is obsolete by the time it comes out because it takes so long to develop. And single molecule transcription is about to make the microprocessor obsolete anyway. But it’ll take years to gain traction."

"Single molecule what?" asked Amy.

The Doctor spun on his heel to face her. "Single molecule transcription. Invented in 2019. A revolution in computer hardware. Hardly ready for commercial use by 2025, but people tried. Computers the size of wristwatches." He shook his wrist in front of her face. "First ones were unstable and hard to use, but people had to do it. Status symbol. You know what? Let me show you." He dashed out of the kitchen. Amy and Rory immediately followed, and David tailed them at a leisurely pace.

In the console room, the Doctor set the TARDIS on its way, its passengers grabbing the rails to keep on their feet. "To London, 2023. First introduction of the wrist computer. Suffered from input difficulties. The buttons were bigger than the screen. They didn't really take off until holographic displays were invented."

A short moment later, the time rotor halted and the clunk indicating the landing reverberated through the chamber. Followed by Rory, Amy, and David, the Doctor bounded down the stairs and threw open the doors.

"London's looking a little small," Amy commented as they gazed out into a strange room. In its center were six bluish round spots in a hexagon on the otherwise metallic gray floor, each about three feet in diameter. Above each spot hung what looked like machinery with a nozzle pointing down at the ground. From what they could see, the chamber itself was square, about sixty feet on a side, with metallic gray walls and a large double door on the far wall. A random assortment of crates and tanks constructed of unknown materials stood in each corner.

"This is definitely 2023," the Doctor remarked as he stepped out of the door, "but not London. This is a transmat chamber."

"A what?" asked Rory as he looked around.

"Teleporter room," explained David as he stared at the room in wonder. "Like in Star Trek. The equipment in the ceiling teleports you to and from those spots." He wandered past Rory, out of the doors of the TARDIS, to get a better look at the whole room. This was his favourite part of these travels: seeing the wonders of new places for the first time. And examining an actual transmat device? Fascinating!

"Handy having you around. Saves me the trouble of having to explain everything." The Doctor strode up to the transmat to inspect it, analyzing it with his sonic screwdriver.

Amy followed him, staring up at the device. "He does it better than you."

The Doctor's attention was still fully on the device. "He does not. You just hear him better. Now, I haven't seen one of you in a long time." On tiptoes, he reached up and touched the barrel of the transmat, then licked his fingertip. "No, you're not a good little t-mat at all, are you?"

The tone of his voice set all three of his companions on edge, and they turned toward him. "What's wrong, Doctor?" asked Amy, her voice nervous.

"I'm pretty sure I know what this ship is. Come, but stay behind me, and stay quiet. David, try not to be so tall." He trotted to the door and pointed at a panel next to it. "Communicator and door control." He held a finger to his lips, then pressed a couple of buttons on the panel. The door slid open and stayed that way.

Checking to make sure no one was on the other side of the door, he led them down a ramp to a short corridor. To both the left and the right, the corridor led about fifteen feet to a T-intersection. The Doctor went right, and at the intersection, verified that the hallway was clear. "To the left," he whispered, "crew quarters and farther on, the bridge. To the right, cargo bays and shafts to the engine room. Same hallway on the other side. Come on." He turned right and followed the corridor down to the first door on the left, a heavy metal door with a wheel on it and a sign above it that read "Cargo Bay 3." Further on, the hallway curved right.

"Two'll be right down there. One's on the other side." He spun the wheel and pushed the door open.

As they stepped into the room, the lights turned on, and immediately calls and shouts assailed their ears. The chamber was not large, maybe twenty feet on a wall, but in each of the three other walls were set two narrow doorways, barely wide enough for a person to fit through, and through each of those doorways, they could see a crowd of people packed in. Most were sitting in the tiny space they had, but some had gotten to their feet and were screaming for freedom.

"I thought so. Slaver ship." The Doctor instinctively put out a hand, stopping Amy from running to them. "Force field doors. Don't let them out yet. We need to get control of the ship if we're going to get them safely home." He nodded at his companions, and they all ran into the room to check the captives.

As David approached a doorway, he noticed from their clothing and dirt that the people were from many different countries and some had been captive for a long time, at least weeks. The people nearest the doorway stood up and crowded near him, and he promised them, "We'll get you out. You have to stay here for a little while longer, but we'll come back and get you out. We'll be right back." Without thinking, he tried to touch the hand of the girl in front of him, and the air flickered with energy as his fingertips brushed the force field. He nodded and smiled in what he hoped was a reassuring manner, and turned to join the others, followed by calls of "Don't leave us here!" and "Help!"

The Doctor was already in the corridor. "Come on! Time to put a stop to this. They probably already know we're on board." He turned and ran up the corridor towards the bridge, the other three close on his heels.

"They'll be waiting for us? Like a trap?" Rory didn't bother to hide his apprehension.

"They're probably fleeing. Slaver ships are cheap and their cargo valuable. They could turn a profit losing their ship once every three trips. Better for them to abandon ship and cargo than to get caught." Passing a hatch in the wall marked "Escape Pod," they reached the bridge door. The Doctor punched a button on the nearby panel and burst onto the flight deck, only to catch a glimpse of a figure retreating through the other door. He yelled, "Stop!" and dashed across the bridge to see the figure down the other corridor climbing into the other escape pod. The pod's door closed and the ship rocked as the pod detached.

"Damn!" He swung at the air in frustration.

"Doctor! What's this?" Amy called.

"Auto-destruct sequence," he answered without looking.

"Auto-destruct?" Rory and David squeaked together.

"Yes. Insurance. It's got, what, thirty minutes on it?" The Doctor began inspecting the three control panels in the cockpit.

"Little over twenty-eight," answered Amy.

"Right. Just enough time to get all of the captives out, but not enough time to do that and chase after the slavers. Make your choice." He stopped in front of a panel with four screens, one focused on the transmat spots and the others monitoring the cargo bays. "Aha! The transmat controls are here. Okay, we've got to get them out."

"What do we do?"

The Doctor ran his hand over the buttons and levers. "These controls are manual, so I'll have to stay here and operate them. You three get down to the cargo bays and start letting the people out. Tell them to get up to the transmat room, stand one person to each spot, and I'll mat them down. We don't have a lot of time, so tell them it's important to stand one to a spot. I've got a comm here, so I can talk to the ship, but you can't answer back."

"What about the other escape pod?" David asked. "Send some people down in that?"

"No! The ship is designed to destroy all evidence. Firing both escape pods means the ship's been abandoned and so it self-destructs in one minute instead of thirty. It has to be the t-mat. Keep people out of that escape pod, or we're all gone. Get going!"

"Right."

David, Rory, and Amy dashed down the corridor to the cargo bays. "I got one. Rory, you take two. David, three." At the cross corridor, David peeled off to the starboard side of the ship and ran into cargo bay three, right up to the doorway he had chosen the first time. He gave an encouraging smile to the people behind the force field, then pressed the lone button on the panel nearby. The slight hum of the force field silenced, but resumed as soon as he let go. He pressed it again and the same thing happened.

"Hold the button down," the Doctor's voice boomed over the comm system. "Keeps the prisoners in when no one's around."

"Okay," David muttered, then pressed the button and held it. He called out to the people as they rushed by him. "Go out to your right, then take a left and go up the ramp. Stand on the spots on the floor, one person to a spot, and you'll be teleported out. One person to a spot! That's important! Only one person!" He kept up the litany of instructions as the crowd of captives pushed their way out of the room. Soon, the Doctor's voice started drowning out his own.

"One to a spot! Only one! I can't send you down if there's more than one. The faster you move off, the faster I can get you back to Earth. Good, good. There, that's a set gone. No, one to a spot..."

A woman who came out of the cell turned to see what David was doing, and immediately moved to the next doorway and pushed its button, but nothing happened. The people in her cell frantically pushed at the forcefield and called to her. She threw up her free hand and waved at David in a panic. "Why isn't it working?"

Holding his button, he shrugged. "I don't know. No instruction book."

"David, I see you. What you're doing. Only one door works at a time," came the answer over the loudspeaker. “To keep the captives in easier, and to make a rescue take as long as possible."

David nodded, then waved his hand at the woman in a "shoo" motion. "Go on, get out of here. I've got this."

Though visibly worried for him, she smiled. "Thank you!" She joined the crowd heading up to the transmat.

David resumed his instruction speech as the last of the captives in the first cell exited. He estimated that there were at least thirty people in each cell, and as soon as it was empty, he moved to the next. Getting them out wasn't the slow part; the transmat was the bottleneck. The Doctor's instructions over the comm were getting less frequent. Obviously people were starting to get that crowding the platform was not getting them rescued.

It took time, but the people were getting out. David moved to the last locked cell and, as he glanced in before pushing the button, he was startled by a familiar redhead in the back of the crowd. He immediately grinned as he recognized his old co-star, Catherine Tate, but her face was lined with the aging of over ten years. That’s not Catherine. That’s Donna Noble. As the memory of her fate rushed back to him, his jaw dropped in horror. Next to her stood the woman who he identified as Jacqueline King, but who he knew was Sylvia Noble, Donna’s mother. Their eyes met, and Sylvia's expression darkened as she moved to block her daughter’s view of him.

Donna had traveled with the Doctor, when the Doctor looked like David, and had been infused with the Doctor's mind during a biological metacrisis. It had given her the Doctor's intelligence and memories and enabled her to defeat the Daleks, but as a human, she was unable to cope with the Time Lord consciousness, and the Doctor had been forced to lock it away before it burned her mind up and killed her. A reminder of her life with the Doctor would release her Time Lord mind again and kill her - a reminder such as a man with the face of her Doctor in an alien situation saving her life.

To David, Donna Noble was a character in a programme he acted in, but her story - her deep and true friendship with the Doctor - resonated with him, and his close relationship with the actress who played her only helped him connect with the all-too-real woman standing before him. He might not be the Doctor, but he cared about this woman, the Doctor’s best friend, and he knew what his presence, his face, could cost her. David ducked out of the doorway and punched the door button, then turned his back to the door, hunching over and shielding his face with his free arm, trying to peek out to see when Donna and Sylvia left so that he could stop hiding. He wasn't sure if the instructions he was trying to call under his arm were loud enough to be heard anymore.

"David?" came the Doctor's voice over the comm. "What in the world are you doing?"

Oh, wonderful. Just keep calling attention to me. He waved his arm to try to communicate to the Doctor to shut up.

It turned out he didn't need to see Donna to know when she passed by. "Quit pushing, dumbo! We'll all get out! That don't help, you know. Oi! I'll shove you, sunshine!" David grinned under his arm.

A few minutes later, he snuck a peek and verified that Donna and Sylvia were no longer in the room. He straightened up and breathed a sigh of relief. A few more minutes and this last cell would be empty.

The Doctor's voice crackled over the comm. "There’re people in the escape pod. Someone's got to get them out! The comm doesn't reach there. David, go, you're closest! Hurry!"

David grabbed the nearest person. "I've got to go. Hold this button in until everyone is out, okay?" She nodded and pushed in the button. "Thanks." He squeezed her shoulder and pushed his way through the crowd, out of the cargo bay and up the corridor.

A few stragglers had made their way up the corridor to the escape pod and they seemed to be arguing about whether or not to use it.

"How do we know where it's going to go?" one man asked the next.

"I don't know. It might take us anywhere."

A man's voice from inside the pod called, "Come in or stay out! We want to go!"

David hesitated for a moment. It probably was too difficult to explain that launching the pod would destroy the ship, so he needed a quicker, easier explanation. "Don't use the pod. It's programmed to go back where the ship came from, which isn't Earth. You won't ever get home."

That did it for the two men. "I'm not getting in that thing," one of them stated, and they rejoined the crowd heading for the transmat. David was pleased that the explanation worked, and stepped up to the pod entrance to convince the rest of the passengers.

Poking his head in, he immediately spotted Donna and Sylvia among the fifteen or so people packed into the pod, and he ducked back out. For a moment, he froze with indecision. I can't do this. If she sees me, I might kill her! But if I don't, I kill everybody. He glanced back at the queue to the transmat, hundreds of people waiting their turn, and covered his mouth with his hand, rebelling against the choice facing him.

"Is that it?" David heard someone call from the pod. "No one else? Let's launch this thing. I think it's that lever over there, for the door."

His heart leapt into his throat, and he darted into the pod. Sylvia's jaw dropped, and she stared at him, appalled.

"I'm sorry, but you can't use this pod." Trying to cover his face with his hand, he spoke loudly, in an unnaturally low voice and with an exaggerated version of his normal Scottish accent, so that he sounded as little like his Doctor as he could. "It's programmed to go to its home, which isn't Earth.” As he spoke, Donna grimaced and clamped her hands to her head in pain. “To get home, you need to go up to the transporter room. Really. You can't use it."

The people in the pod began to shift and he darted back through the door, but Donna's anguished cries followed him. "What? What's happening to me? My head! It hurts! Who... who was that? I know him! Ahhhh, it hurts!"

Leaning back against the corridor wall, David held his breath and clenched his fists. Come on, Donna. You can control it. You'll be okay. He could hear Sylvia's encouraging words. "It's okay, love. Don't think about it. Don't worry about it. You'll be fine."

Donna's cries lessened, until he finally heard her gasp, "I'm all right. I'm all right. My head never hurt like that before." David sighed with relief, then dove into the crowd to get away as quickly as possible. He crossed over to the port side of the ship to check Rory's and Amy's progress, and to help direct people up to the transmat. He figured there was no reason Donna would end up in those areas.

The cells of cargo bays one and two were empty, so Rory and Amy must have moved on. Come to think of it, the Doctor hadn't called out instructions on the comm in a while, so they must have gone up to the transmat chamber to assist there. David moved to the entrance of cargo bay one and directed from there, answering questions and reassuring people as they waited in the long queue for the teleporters.

Even over the noise and chatter of the crowds of people, Donna's wail carried from the transmat chamber to David's ears, and he plowed his way through the crowd and up the ramp. He burst through the door to find, beyond the transmat circle, Donna staggering in front of the TARDIS, holding her head in both hands. "What is it? What is that box? Why does it hurt so much? Mum! Help me! I can't think. There's a flippin’ enormous wasp in my brain! It hurts! Help me!" Sylvia tried to hold her daughter, to turn her away from the blue police box, but Donna was transfixed by it.

Amy ran over to her, but had no idea what to do. "What's wrong?" She turned panicked eyes first to Rory, and then to David.

Sylvia spotted David as well, and cried to him, "Help her, Doctor!"

David dashed to the mother and froze with utter helplessness. "I'm not the Doctor! I'm... I'm David! I’m a human!" He whirled to call to Amy. "Get the Doctor. He's the only one who can save her life."

Amy leapt to the panel by the door, and screamed into it, "Doctor! We need you here at the transmat! There's a woman dying! David says only you can help her!"

The Doctor's voice boomed over the loudspeaker. "I can't. No time. Can't get everyone out if I stop transmatting. I'm sorry."

Donna's sight fixed on David, and her eyes shone with a joy that shattered her haze of pain. "Doctor! It's you! It's you!" Sobbing, she lurched forward, away from her mother, into his arms. "I'm back. You're here. We’re together. I remember. The whole universe, in my brain again. It hurts so much. Oh, Doctor!"

She was losing strength, and David gently lowered her, holding her close. Sylvia knelt beside them, her hand on her daughter's shoulder. "I... I'm not..." Looking into her eyes, he saw Donna Noble, his best mate, and for her, he was the Doctor, her Doctor. He didn't need to remember the accent and voice: they flowed naturally. "Donna. My brilliant Donna. I'm here. Right here. With you." Overflowing with tears, his eyes shone with his love for his friend, and he stroked a lock of red hair back from her face. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. This is my fault. I can't stop it. I can't help you."

She tried to lift a hand to his face, but it fell limp. "Don't want you to. Don't want to go back. I've missed you so much. Didn't know it, but I did. You're here. You're the Doctor. You’re magnificent. Oh it hurts! I can't think... I can't... Doctor?... Doctor?... Doc..." She fell silent. David buried his face in her shoulder and wept.

. _ . _ . _ . _ .

A hand on his shoulder brought David back to the present. A familiar Scottish voice told him quietly, "Everyone's out. We've got to go." He looked up into the concerned faces of Amy and Rory. Sylvia was near the TARDIS, her back turned.

"Yeah. We've got to go." He hugged Donna once more. "Rory, could you help me?" Rory nodded and moved around to Donna's feet.

"Okay! Everyone is out and..." Striding into the chamber at that moment, the Doctor halted his exuberant speech when he spied the woman in David's arms. "Donna!" he murmured, aghast. David stared at him in despair.

"Doctor!" Amy called. "We have to get out first. Sort the rest out second."

"Yes. Yes!" He clapped his hands. "Into the TARDIS everyone!" Amy opened the TARDIS doors and escorted Sylvia in while the men carried Donna inside. David sat on the floor and insisted on holding her while the Doctor sent the ship into flight.

"You!" Sylvia strode up to David and slapped him, hard. "You killed my daughter! You told us to never remind her of you, and we never did, and then you come waltzing back here and kill her!"

He stared up at her with a blank expression, his eyes dead. "I did."

"How dare you, Doctor? How dare you? You spirit her away from her family, fill her head with all that space stuff, and then strip her mind of all of it! What kind of life do you think that was? She couldn't be herself either way. You ruined her life! And then you killed her! And now I've lost my daughter, Shaun has lost his wife, her children have lost their mother." She pulled back to slap him again, but the Doctor caught her wrist.

"No. If you're going to hit anyone, you hit me. I'm the Doctor. He's David." He positioned himself between Sylvia and her target.

Sylvia's face twisted into a sneer. "I'm not stupid. I know who the Doctor is."

"No, you don't, Sylvia Noble. You know that when I looked like him, at Donna's wedding, I was regenerating. That version of me died a very long time ago. I'm the Doctor. David just looks like who I was."

Taken aback, Sylvia retreated and looked back and forth between the two men. "You're the Doctor? Not him? Then who is he? How does he know..." Her finger, pointing at David, completed the question she was unable to articulate.

"He is a complicated space-time event. He knows everything about my life, my relationship with Donna. He knows. He understands, more than you can ever know. He loved her as much as I did."

"I still killed her." David's murmur was almost inaudible.

Sylvia pursed her lips. Crossing her arms, she strode to the doors of the TARDIS. "Take us home."

"That's where we're going." The Doctor knelt next to Donna and David and bowed his head for the rest of the journey.

Chapter Text

“Impressive.” The Doctor’s strident voice echoed off the stone walls, startling David, who hadn’t heard his arrival despite the thumping of his boots on the flagstones. Sitting in a corner with his knees drawn up to his chest, David raised his head from his arms. The room spun.

"What is?" David's voice was low, uncaring and exhausted.

"You're probably the only person in the universe who could find the cloister room in this form. I haven't seen it myself in over two hundred years." The Doctor whirled around the stone garden, running his hands reverently down the marble columns and fingering the leaves of the ivy runners.

"I don't remember." David dropped his head down again. "I just... walked."

"Been hours." The Doctor hopped over a carved bench near David and sat down facing him.

David shrugged. “Who can tell? The TARDIS is timeless.”

“Rory is worried about you.”

David’s head snapped up, his eyes blazing. “Are you quite done?” he snarled. “I came here for peace and quiet!”

The Doctor wasn’t fazed. “David, we’ve got to talk.”

“I don’t ‘got’ to do anything. Go away.” He buried his face in his arms again.

“You’re tearing yourself apart. You need to talk about it.”

“It’s been a few hours! I don’t get a few hours to grieve?”

“This isn’t grief. Okay, it's grief, but there's a whole lot more, and you don't have to deal with it alone. I know you blame yourself for her death. It's not your fault."

With his elbows on his knees, David held his head in both hands. "You weren't there. You don't know that. I'm the one that set her off. Not the TARDIS. She's seen m- my Doctor before, and she's seen the TARDIS, but never both together, and she was fine then. This time, she saw…” He gasped for air. “Because I had to... and that's why when... the TARDIS... and she..." Sobbing, he couldn't continue.

The Doctor frowned. David hadn't spoken enough coherent words to explain what had happened. He leapt up from his seat and plopped down next to David, putting an arm around him. "Come on. Tell me what happened." He patted David awkwardly as he waited for the man to recover his control.

"The escape pod," David finally blurted out. "They were going to take off. Donna was in there. I knew it would set her off, but I had to clear them out." He looked up, into the Doctor's eyes. "Don't you see? They would have killed everyone, and they didn't even know it! I had to stop them. But it meant Donna seeing me. She... she started to hurt, but she stopped. And then she saw the TARDIS in the transmat chamber, and then she couldn't stop.

"It was her or everyone, Doctor. I had to choose. And I chose to kill Donna Noble." He stared straight ahead.

"The impossible decision. I know what you're feeling all too well."

"I know you do. But I can't... I don't..." In frustration, he jumped up and strode off a few paces, then whirled back, tearing at his hair with both hands. "I'm not you! I'm not a Time Lord! I can't do this! I can't make these kinds of decisions! I'm just me, just a man, just... just an actor, I don't know! I don't want to have to choose who dies!"

The Doctor got to his feet. "It's hard, I know. It’s proper hard. It’s impossible. But you made the right decision. Hundreds of people owe their lives to you."

David clenched his jaw. "It doesn't make me feel any better."

"No. It doesn't. But that's what you have to believe, because it's true.” He closed the distance between them and squeezed David’s arm. “Remind yourself of that, every second."

David rounded on him, screaming, "Doesn't it bother you at all that Donna's dead?"

The Doctor gazed back at him, unperturbed. "Of course it does. Donna was my best friend when... in my last life, perhaps ever. She was magnificent. It broke my hearts when I had to lock her away, and they're breaking now. But that has nothing to do with you. You made the difficult decision when both choices were terrible. And you're paying the price for it.

"David. You saved hundreds of lives on that ship. Before that, hundreds more on the Polthite colony ship. Who knows how many in Cambridge. You could go back to a normal life and you'll probably never have to do something like this again. If you stay with me, you can see the universe and do great things, but it's a good bet that you'll have to face this kind of thing again, and there are no easy answers. You have to ask yourself, ‘Is it worth it?’

“The only thing I can advise you is, don't let it break you. Don't let it change you. You're clever, you're brave, you're compassionate, and you're just. Let that guide you. And afterwards, don't be so hard on yourself. Give yourself time to heal."

David regarded him with a sardonic eye. "Fine words, coming from you."

"That's my fight, every single day. As you well know. Only way to keep going." The Doctor spun away to inspect the ivy on the wall behind him.

Dropping heavily on a stone bench, David covered his face with his hands, his breathing ragged. "I can't do this. I just can't do this." He inhaled deeply and rubbed his hands over his eyes then through his hair. Hunching forward with his elbows on his knees and hands dangling, he cocked his head and regarded the Doctor with exhausted eyes. "No, you're right. Only way to keep going. I'll try."

The Doctor turned back. "And you'll succeed. I know you will. It'll get better every moment."

David's lips twitched a tiny smile. "Thank you, Doctor."

"Right!" The Doctor clapped and strode a few steps towards the door, then spun back around and gestured at the room. "Splendid being back here. Always so peaceful. Tell the TARDIS to archive this room. No. Can't have two cloisters. She'll put it back, but you can always find this one. Just like you did." He whirled again and pointed at David. "Rory is worried about you. Did I tell you that already? That's what I came here for. Take all the time you need. You've all the time in the universe here." Continuing to ramble, he swept out of the cloister, the stones echoing his footfalls.

David sat up and stared absently at the archway through which the Doctor disappeared. He knew that the Doctor was right, that the wound was too raw for him to feel anything but pain, but that given time, he'd be able to deal with it, to think about it without hating himself. And, that for all the heartache, he'd done some good and wanted to do more; he didn't want to leave, not yet. For now, he closed his eyes and let the serenity of the cloister salve his lacerated soul.

Chapter Text

David suspected that the Doctor deliberately chose “safe” destinations for the next week or so for his benefit. He started with spending three days in Rory and Amy's contemporary Brighton, and David took this time to disappear on hours-long walks accompanied only by his own thoughts; he didn't consider himself very good company for anyone. There wasn't a moment when Donna - her suffering face, her last words, how she felt in his arms - wasn't filling his mind, darkening his mood, and making him short-tempered with anyone who spoke to him. Walking through new places, seeing new things, and simply not being near the Doctor or the TARDIS helped him forget, just a little bit.

The Doctor then took them back two hundred years for three days in Brighton during the Regency. For the first day, David hid in the TARDIS, but his natural curiosity about a new time period drove him to join Rory and Amy in dressing in period clothing and strolling the streets and meeting new people, and he found it was good for him, taking his mind off his troubles. In the evenings, the three humans attended parties with the Time Lord in his tweed jacket and bow tie; somehow, though he wore such odd, anachronistic clothing, he always seemed to charm, or at least amuse, whomever he talked to. Amy and Rory enjoyed themselves immensely, and David began to recover.

The Doctor then took the TARDIS to Los Angeles in the late twentieth century, claiming that he wanted to do some extra maintenance on the craft. They spent the next four days there, with the humans left to entertain themselves. Rory insisted on including David in all their tours of the city, to the point where David suspected that Amy was getting annoyed with both of them. But with their company and the huge new location to see, he found that the Doctor was right: it got better every moment. Donna’s death and the decision he made still grieved him, but it became easier for him to recognize the good that came of them.

Once the Doctor felt the TARDIS was ready, he sent it off flying into the time vortex, looking for a new place to explore. As they flew, a red light on the console started flashing in time with an annoying beep. Amy was the closest to that panel, and called out, “Hoy, Doctor! What’s this mean?”

“Distress call, Pond.” The Doctor whirled around the console, pressing buttons and pulling the monitor in front of him. “Transtemporal frequency. Someone with the ability to transmit across time is in quite a bit of trouble.” While he sent the TARDIS on its way following the signal, Amy jumped up and almost skipped to the doors, swinging her arms in excited agitation.

David could not fathom her excitement. She seemed to treat these encounters as games or adventures, and he couldn’t see it that way, not anymore. People didn’t send distress calls when they were living peacefully and healthy.

The Doctor's advice came back to him. Don't let it change you. David had definitely changed. While he wanted to explore this distress call and help whomever they found, he no longer felt the giddy excitement of adventure. His reaction was tempered by the realization that someone somewhere was hurting. He hoped this was a positive change.

“What kind of trouble?” Rory followed Amy, clasping his hands nervously in front of himself. “This will be dangerous, won’t it?”

“No. No danger. No danger at all.” The Doctor spun to face Rory, his hands held wide. “Of course there’ll be danger. It’s a distress call.” As the time rotor slowed, the Doctor flipped a few switches, then clapped his hands together. “Looks like 2847. Let’s see what’s out there. What we can do to help.” He almost skipped down the stairs to the doors and pulled them open. “Now, here- whoa!”

The doors opened into deep space. David could see the jagged edge of a cleft metal floor, pipes and cables sticking out beneath it, broken and frayed. The Doctor leaned out and looked around the outside of the TARDIS, then pulled back in and closed the door. “This deck’s been blown away.” He bounded back up to the console. “Just a little distress. Need to find a better parking space.” The engine wheezed as he moved the ship.

“What caused it?” Now Amy looked worried.

“No idea. Could have been an internal explosion. Could have been an attack. Won’t know until we get inside.” He patted the central column as the ship landed again. “Come on.” Once again, he darted down the stairs and opened the door, this time onto what looked like an engine room, filled with huge metal tanks and criss-crossed with pipes and conduits. On the other end of the long chamber, a lone figure lay on the ground, not moving, and behind her was the only visible door, standing open.

The four burst from the TARDIS, Rory and Amy heading straight for the downed woman. The Doctor moved slower, twirling to take stock of the room, while David shut the door, then circled the TARDIS to see what was behind it: more engine room, no apparent enemies. There were no exits he could see other than the one near the woman.

Rory checked her neck for a pulse, then looked her over. “She’s dead,” he said as the Doctor and David neared them. “I don’t know what killed her. No wounds or marks.”

The Doctor pulled out his sonic screwdriver and scanned, first the woman, then around the room. As he tucked the tool away in his breast pocket, he muttered, "This isn't right."

Amy stared up at him. "There's a dead woman here."

"No. That's normal." He took no notice of the appalled looks from his three companions. "She's human, and this ship is of human design. Think, Amy. What's wrong with this picture?" While she thought, he inspected a mechanism closely. "Definitely human design."

Amy stood up while Rory and David moved the body out of the middle of the engine room. She shrugged. "Wrong technology for 2847?"

"No, but right train of thought." He wagged a finger at her. “What else is wrong about this ship?"

When Amy didn't answer, Rory observed, "David knows."

David started, stepping back. "What?"

"I can see it on your face." Rory shrugged. "And anyway, you always know."

David sighed. "Obviously, I need to go back to drama school."

"Never mind that," Amy cut in. "What's the problem?"

David gestured at the room. "This is all human. Humans can't send messages through time. So, either they gained the ability to do so, which they shouldn't, or someone else sent the distress call."

"Correctamundo!" The Doctor pointed triumphantly at David, then hesitated. "Didn't I promise never to say that again? Forget I said that. Let's get to the bottom of this. Or the top. Engine room is usually already at the bottom."

The Doctor led the group through the door and halted as a cry rang out. To his right, a figure at the end of the corridor leaned heavily against the wall, cradling his left arm. "Hey! You! Run! It's coming!" He started stumbling towards them, using the wall to steady himself.

The Doctor and Amy immediately ran towards him. "Get him into the room. Rory, get the med bag and a splint. His arm is broken." Rory turned and sprinted back towards the TARDIS. "Oh, David!" The Doctor fished his key out of his pocket and tossed it to him.

David ran after Rory and, upon arriving at the TARDIS, unlocked the door for him. "Come on," the nurse beckoned. "Help me get the things." The two dashed off to the sickbay.

It didn't take long for Rory to find what he thought he might need, and David followed him back to the console room carrying the splint and a couple of blankets. Jogging to the doors, Rory yanked one open, then slammed it shut.

"What's wrong? What happened?" David asked as Rory turned and backed against the door, frightened.

"There's a robot out there! It shot a laser beam at the Doctor!"

"What kind of robot? What did it look like?"

"A cylinder. Dome on the top. Like a big rubbish bin, gliding around. Or a pepper pot. With bumps on the side."

The colour drained from David's face and he dropped the supplies. "With a plunger and an egg beater for arms?" With one hand with fingers spread and the other with one finger pointing, he mimed them moving up and down.

"Yeah."

He didn’t want to believe it. "And an eyestalk sticking out on top?" He held the base of his pointing hand to his forehead and waggled his finger around.

"Exactly."

David rubbed his hand down over his open mouth and jaw. "Daleks." His stomach knotted up.

"Daleks?" Rory squeaked. "That's those things that Amy said she met in World War II, right?"

"That's the ones."

"We've got to get her out of there!" Rory dropped the med bag and spun for the door, but David grabbed him before he could open it.

"Don't go out there! They'll kill you on the spot."

"But Amy!"

"I know, I know!" David stuffed his hands in his pockets and began pacing. "Going out there without a plan is certain death. Wait, let's see if we can see what's going on." He sprinted up to the console and, pulling the monitor in front of him, twisted a knob, then flipped two switches and pressed a button. The monitor flickered on, showing the scene outside. "And look around a bit..." With the tip of his tongue pressed to the roof of his mouth, he grabbed a directional joystick and swung the viewpoint of the monitor around the outside of the TARDIS. There was no Amy to be seen. The man with the broken arm was lying on the ground, either unconscious or dead; with a Dalek in the room, David suspected the latter. The Doctor was saying something to the Dalek. "And sound!" With a flourish, he spun a dial and the speaker crackled to life.

"...who created a false distress call, to bring me here."

"YOUR - PRESENCE - WAS - REQUIRED."

"For what? I am the Oncoming Storm! Your worst enemy! Why would you possibly want me here?"

"YOU - WILL - ASSIST - ME. YOU - WILL - GIVE - ME - WHAT - I - NEED - TO - REJOIN - THE - DALEK - FLEET."

Intrigued by the fact that the Dalek seemed to have a plan, rather than simply destroying everyone it saw, David glanced at Rory and realized the nurse was staring at him, frowning. "What?"

"You know how to work the TARDIS?"

David jerked his head back to stare at the console, then hopped back from it, his hands up as if he were afraid to touch anything. "No! I mean, I just turned on the monitor. That's all." It disturbed him. He'd never touched the console before in his life. He wasn't even sure how he'd managed to turn on the monitor. He tried to distract Rory - and himself - from thinking about it. "Listen to them!"

“...CIRCUIT - ON - THE - EMERGENCY - TEMPORAL - SHIFT - IS - DAMAGED. YOU - WILL - REPLACE - IT.”

The Doctor tilted his head. "You have an emergency temporal shift? Where did you get that... Oh! Oh! I get it now!" He started pacing around the room, keeping an eye on the Dalek as he spoke. "You're not from the Daleks I met in 1941. You came from the New Dalek Empire. Got it from Dalek Caan, did you, and used it to escape the Crucible? But the temporal stabiliser’s broken, so you can't control where it goes, and the shift gets weaker every time you use it. You've got one more jump in you, I would bet. You want to make it count. And I'm the only person you know who can fix it for you."

“YOU - WILL - GIVE - ME - THE - TEMPORAL - STABILISER.”

The Doctor stopped and smiled. "No chance of that."

“THEN - YOU - WILL - BE - EXTERMINATED.”

He held his arms out, welcoming the shot. "Go ahead. Then you'll never get that circuit."

The Dalek wobbled a bit, shaking its eyestalk back and forth, as if looking for another option.

"We are at an impasse, then." The Doctor resumed his pacing, gesturing expansively as he talked. "You need something. I won't give it to you. You have no way of forcing me. Isn't that right?"

"THAT - IS - INCORRECT." The Dalek fired a short burst from its laser, exploding a small fixture on the wall near itself, revealing a panel with a large round half-sphere control. It covered the control with its concave manipulator and a spherical force field formed around the Doctor, pinning him in a small space against the wall.

"Hey! That’s cheating!" The Doctor pulled out his screwdriver and fired it at the panel, but nothing happened. "Deadlocked."

“I - WILL - FIND - THE - HUMAN - FEMALE. YOU - WILL - GIVE - ME - THE - CIRCUIT - IN - EXCHANGE - FOR - HER - LIFE.” The Dalek began gliding around the room, searching for Amy.

Rory danced in agitation, his hands shaking. "We've got to stop it before it finds Amy! How do you kill that thing?"

David shook his head. "You don't. Few weapons can even touch it, and we don't have any, anyway. And if we step foot out there, we'll either be shot on the spot or just become its pawns."

"No negotiation?"

"It's a Dalek. All it wants is to kill everything else in the entire universe. Unless it wants something specific, like right now. But it'll kill us the moment it has it.” He tugged at his ear. “The only person who fazes it is the Doctor, and that's because he's defeated them so many times."

"And the Doctor is trapped. Amy..." Rory strode around in a tight circle, wringing his hands.

David turned and stared at the monitor, at the Doctor trying to find a way out of the force field, while the Dalek glided out of the room. He ran both hands through his hair, stopping with his hands on the sides of his head, his elbows up in the air. He rejected the only idea that came to him, and cast about for any other possible course of action, without success: all they had to work with was an actor and a nurse. He made up his mind. He had to do it.

"Okay. Okay. I've got a plan. Stay here and keep an eye on things. I've gotta do something." Without waiting for Rory's acknowledgement, he ran for the hallway, into the TARDIS interior.

Chapter Text

Rory was glued to the monitor, watching the Doctor and looking for any sign of Amy. The Dalek often returned to the room to search, and the Doctor took every opportunity to taunt it. While he was terrified for Amy, Rory was elated that apparently she was doing a good job of evading the alien's search. Footsteps in the hallway alerted him to the arrival of his friend.

"It hasn't found Amy yet, and the Doctor is still trapped, but..." His words trailed off as he saw David. "Uh, I've never seen you in that before."

David swept up the stairs to the console, his long brown overcoat billowing behind him. Under it, he wore a tight, crumpled blue suit with a light blue shirt and a red tie that matched his red high-top trainers. He'd gelled the hair on the top of his head so that it stood on end. "It's... It's what the Doctor used to wear. I never thought I'd wear this again. It's weird wearing someone else's clothes. I hope he's had them cleaned since…” He faltered. “Just... don't say anything, okay?" He looked heartily embarrassed.

"Yeah, uh, sure." Rory was confused. He had no idea how a change of clothes would help anything. "What's the plan?"

Inhaling through his nose, David seemed to be trying to gather confidence. "The plan is to confuse that Dalek long enough to free the Doctor by presenting it with another Doctor. If we can find another sonic screwdriver, you can use it on the panel. That with the Doctor’s sonic will break the deadlock. Then, getting Amy out of there, that, I'll leave to him. Give me a moment." David started searching through the pockets of his jacket and trousers.

Rory's jaw dropped as he realized what the actor was proposing to do, and he sputtered in amazement. “You... You’re going to distract the Dalek by pretending to be the Doctor? You can’t do that! It’ll kill you!”

“Have to. Gotta get the Doctor free, to save Amy. No other way. I’ve pretended to be the Doctor before. Pretty convincingly, I think. I can do it again.” Not finding what he was looking for, David stuffed his hands into the pockets of his overcoat. A strange, faraway look came over his face as he felt around in the pockets, and he bit his lip.

"You okay, David?" Rory took a step toward him, one hand outstretched.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine." He didn't sound fine. He sounded distracted, disturbed. "Was… was, uh... was hoping the sonic would be in one of these pockets.” A metallic swoosh caught his attention. “Ah, there." He hopped over to the console and grabbed the item sitting in the slot that normally held the Doctor’s green sonic screwdriver. Rory had never seen the device before: a small, slim gray cylinder, black on one end with a blue crystal on the other. David gazed at it fondly, extending and retracting its tip. "There we go!" His suddenly bright voice quivered with excitement. "Lovely! Oh! One more thing, and we're ready!"

David leapt down the stairs, startling Rory, and ducked under the console. Flopping to the ground on his back, he slipped himself under the TARDIS mechanics. Rory followed him downstairs, where he could hear David babbling to himself. "They should be right here, unless he's changed the configuration. OH!" The violence of the exclamation made Rory jump. "He did! Why would he do that? No wonder the ride gets bumpier all the time! Got to have a word with him about that. Ah, there they are. Right behind the spectrolith prism, aha!" The whir of the screwdriver emanated from the machine. "Got it!" David pushed himself back out, and stuffed something in his jacket pocket as he got up. "Now we're ready! Rory, you stay in here and watch. I’m the distraction. When you see an opportunity to get out safely, get to the panel and use this.” He handed the screwdriver to him. ”Got it?"

"Yeah, sure. Uh, David?” Rory squared himself in front of his friend and grasped him by the shoulders. “What's going on? What are you doing? You're saying weird things and you just vandalized the TARDIS. And your accent has changed."

David's shoulders drooped, as if all of his sudden energy had drained out of his body. A haze of confusion clouded his face, and grimacing, he shook his head violently to clear it. "I know." His normal accent had returned. "I know what's happening. It was always going to happen."

"What is it? What's happening?"

David’s eyes, unnerved and desperate, locked with his friend’s. "I'm becoming the Doctor. I have to. It's the only way to help them." Inhaling deeply, David closed his eyes for a very long second. When they opened again, Rory saw himself reflected in dark pools of infinite time and space and he staggered backwards, mesmerized. David straightened, his boundless energy returning. “Now. Let’s save Amy.” Flashing Rory a brilliant, impish grin, he sprinted for the door.

. _ . _ . _ . _ .

"Oh, give it up, Dalek." The Doctor's scathing tones mocked the metallic soldier that was circling around the room and blasting large objects out of the way. "You can't find her. You can't even do that right."

The Dalek continued to search. “I - WILL - WAIT. THE - HUMAN - FEMALE - WILL - BECOME - TIRED. I - WILL - FIND - HER. YOU - WILL - GIVE - ME - THE - TEMPORAL - STABILISER - FOR - THE - HUMAN - FEMALE.”

"And yet, the longer you wait, the more time I have to get out of your silly little prison." The Doctor spun on his heel, glancing around himself again.

The Dalek's dome turned to glare him down. “YOUR - SONIC - PROBE - IS - USELESS. YOU - CARRY - NO - OTHER - TOOLS - OR - WEAPONS. THE - DOCTOR - WILL - NOT - ESCAPE.”

"I don't need to escape."

The Dalek swiveled around to find the source of the new voice and darted backwards at the sight of David emerging from the TARDIS. “YOU - ARE - THE - DOCTOR! HOW - IS - THIS - POSSIBLE? EXPLAIN! EXPLAIN!”

"Oh, I got the invitation to your party and just happened to be in the neighbourhood." He clasped his hands behind his back as he surveyed the shambles of the engine room. "Love the decor. Have you got nibbles?"

“I - HAVE - THE - DOCTOR. YOU - ARE - EXPENDABLE. YOU - WILL - BE - EXTERMINATED.”

"Now, that, I wouldn't do if I were you." He rubbed his chin with his forefinger and thumb. "You see, he's my future. You kill me, and he stops existing. You kill him, and I just won’t come by when I’m him. Even if you survive the paradoxes, you still won't have that circuit." He strolled around the room, and the Dalek, though obviously confused and thinking, glided to a position guarding the force field switch. David neared the Doctor's prison, leaning toward it with his hands in his trouser pockets. "Hullo, Doctor! Comfy in there?"

"Better than a lot of prisons we’ve been in. Took you long enough, Doctor.”

“Couldn’t decide on a tie.”

“You’ve got too many. Keep it simple, I say.”

“And wear a bow tie? Next, you’ll be wearing a funny hat. I think I still have the Presidency hat somewhere. Shall I get it for you?”

“YOU - WILL - GIVE - ME - THE - TEMPORAL - STABILISER! COMPLY! COMPLY!”

David spun back to the Dalek and clucked his tongue. “We were having a conversation! Don’t you know it’s not polite to interrupt? One-track mind, you are. Is this what you want?” David fished the component from his pocket and held it up where the Dalek could see it clearly. It advanced on him, and he backed up towards the door, away from the forcefield panel.

“YOU - WILL - BE - EXTERMINATED. I - WILL - OBTAIN - THE - STABILISER."

"Paradoxes. Remember?" He dangled the component between two fingers.

"NON-FATAL - INJURY - WILL - SUFFICE."

David dove to the side as a Dalek beam shot at him. “Oh, good one, Doctor,” he muttered to himself. “It always comes to this, doesn’t it?” As he ducked behind one of the engine casings, the TARDIS door opened and Rory jumped out, aiming the blue screwdriver at the panel. Its whirring attracted the attention of the Dalek and as it swiveled its eyestalk around to see the new threat, another whirring joined the first as the Doctor shot the panel with his green screwdriver. The deadlock shattered, showering the floor with sparks as the force field fell. The Doctor immediately ducked behind another pile of rubble as Rory dodged back into the TARDIS and slammed the door.

“THE - DOCTOR - HAS - ESCAPED! EXTERMINATE! EXTERMINATE!”

The Doctor and David continued dodging the Dalek attacks, keeping it between them to divide its attention. “Toss me the stabiliser, will you?” the Doctor called as he dodged a shot.

“Can’t risk it.” David popped his head out from behind a pile of rubble and dove back down as a beam blasted the wall above him. “Dalek gets it and the TARDIS’ll be running on shuffle, too.”

“Not much different from how she usually steers.”

“OI! TIN POT!” Amy roared from the doorway and started winging every piece of metal she could find at the Dalek. As it rounded on her, she dove back out into the corridor.

David didn’t waste the opportunity. “Catch, Doctor!” He lobbed the stabiliser circuit over the Dalek, and the Doctor caught it easily.

“It’s over, Dalek. You’re done here.” The Doctor rose from behind the rubble pile, holding the stabiliser circuit casually in one hand. The Dalek’s eyestalk turned to him, and it seemed to cower, retreating backwards.

“You should’ve just accepted the time you got.” David emerged from behind his cover, sweeping his coat back to thrust his hands in his pockets.

“Instead, you got us involved.” Eyeing the Dalek with cool detachment, the Doctor stowed his screwdriver in his pocket.

“You got me involved, and I’m not happy about that.” David stood with his feet apart, his chin tucked in as he glared at the Dalek, his eyes blazing with anger.

“Your problem is, you don’t know anything about your emergency temporal shift. This temporal stabiliser will secure its navigation…” The Doctor pressed a few buttons on the circuit, holding down the last one, and a wide blue beam emanated from it, shining on the Dalek’s carapace.

“...But, coupled with a horometrical amplifier, it can send you to times you’ve never even dreamed of.” David pulled a spherical object from his jacket pocket.

“NO! YOU - WILL - NOT - SHIFT - ME!” The Dalek backed away from David.

“You’re out of time, Dalek.” David activated the orb, and the Dalek seemed to implode, screaming as it shrunk and disappeared into a single point.

The Doctor dashed across the room and caught David as his eyes rolled back into his head and his knees buckled. “Got you.”

Amy and Rory ran in from their respective doors and hugged each other briefly before turning to the two other men. “That was brilliant!” Amy clapped before noticing that David was barely conscious. The two immediately gathered around him to help the Doctor support him. “David, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“He’s gone. He’s gone,” he breathed. Pushing them away, David stumbled towards the TARDIS.

Chapter Text

David slumped down into one of the jump seats near the console and buried his face in his hands, trying to reign in the chaos flooding his head, to sort through the myriad of thoughts, images, sounds, memories that threatened to burst through his skull. They weren’t his, and thankfully, they were fading away; there was no way he could hold even a fraction of them. The worst part was the timestream. For a few moments after he had regained control, he had seen time like the Time Lords did, and though he couldn’t comprehend a single bit of it, it had seared through his mind and its echo still lingered. He knew that Rory was standing next to him, concerned for him but uncertain what to do. And, he could hear, as if through cotton in his ears, Amy interrogating the Doctor.

“What’d you do to that Dalek?”

“Amy, later! We’ve more important things here.”

“It’s not going to come back, is it?”

“No! Look, we used the amplifier to send it as far away as we could. Beyond the end of the universe. Where it can’t do any harm.”

“But what happened to David? What did that thing do to him? What’s wrong with him?”

“No, it didn’t do anything. I did.”

“You? What did you do to him, Doctor?”

“Something I did a very long time ago.”

David struggled to his feet and brushed away Rory’s attempts to help him. His vision was blurry, but he recognized the Doctor easily and pointed an accusatory finger at him. “You knew.”

“Yes, I did.”

David struggled to control his sudden rage, his whole body rigid. “You knew everything! Every single thing, all along! And you didn’t tell me!”

“Yes.”

The Doctor gazed at David, his expression a mask of sympathy, misery, and guilt. David shook as he held himself back with great difficulty from smashing that face with his fists.

Amy stepped between the two men, to prevent the apparently looming fight. Facing David, she called over her shoulder, “What’s he talking about, Doctor? What did you know?”

“This.” David stuck his hand in his coat pocket and pulled out a small brass disc-shaped object: a pocket watch, complete with fob chain. With a contemptuous flick of his wrist, he tossed it to Amy, then spun away, clenching and unclenching his fists as he fought to calm himself down. Inspecting the watch, Amy touched the Gallifreyan symbols etched on its cover. As she positioned her thumb to press the latch, he cautioned her, “Don’t open it.” His back was still turned.

“What is it? Obviously it’s not just a watch.”

“It’s me. The real me.” Turning back to her, he held out his hand for it, and she dropped it in his palm.

“What does that mean?”

Rory placed a hand on Amy’s shoulder. “It means he’s the Doctor. Actually the Doctor.”

“What?" She stared at Rory in disbelief. "But he said he wasn't!”

“He didn’t know. He only found out when the Dalek appeared.”

"No! That can't be..." Turning to David, she gaped at him, eyeing him up and down. "No. You were just acting, right? That's what you do. You were playing the Doctor, like your show on the telly."

“No. I am the Doctor." He enunciated it slowly, as if trying to believe it himself. "I think I knew when I looked into Donna's eyes.” David shook his head to clear the memory of his best friend's face as she died, and stared at the watch. “But I didn’t want to admit it. Then the Dalek had the Doctor trapped and it was hunting for you, and we tried to find some way to help. Then he took over. The Doctor took over." He touched the cover of the watch with one finger, then rubbed the back of his neck. "I had to let him. It wouldn't have worked, if I'd tried to stop him. We would have been fighting each other. I had to let myself go, let him take full control. We couldn’t have saved you otherwise.”

He looked up at Amy, frightened and despairing. “I’m still me. I’m still David. For now. Until I open this watch. Then the Doctor comes back and I’m gone.” The anger returned, swelling up inside his chest, and he glared past her at the Doctor. “But you knew. From the very beginning. From the moment you installed the paradox circuit.”

“Yes. That’s the moment I remembered everything.”

“You said you were closing the rift, but you were actually making a paradox machine!” David stepped to the console and, gazing sadly, lovingly at the time rotor, stroked the glass cylinder. “What has he done to you?”

The Doctor also placed a comforting hand on the console. “Only a little one. Very localized. A tiny bit of what the Master did. It was the only way to keep the anomalies from tearing her apart.”

Still staring up at the column, David cried, “You could have taken me back home!”

“You know I couldn’t. My existence depends upon you being here.”

David gritted his teeth. The Doctor was right, but he didn’t want to admit it. “So, you pretended all this time that you didn’t know what was happening. You lived through it all as me, and just did it all over again. You led us into danger you knew was coming, and you let me stumble through it all, let me hurt people, and you just let me suffer! You even let Donna die!” His throat choked up on that last sentence.

“Yes. I had no choice.” The Doctor’s expression was impassive, but his eyes betrayed sympathy for David’s despair. “The events already happened for me. I couldn’t change them. That’s the nature of the paradox. You understand that better than any other human does. You know what would have happened if I tried to change anything. I had to do what already happened.” With tired, bent shoulders, he pursed his lips, shaking his head. “This time, I was the actor.”

Whirling around, David stomped back to the jump seat and slumped in it. Rubbing his face hard with his hands, he tried to reject the universe around him, tried to prove that he wasn't here and he was simply just David; even being in a coma after that car crash would be preferable to this. But reality never wavered, and his too-rational mind had already deduced his inevitable fate. He looked up at the Doctor, and spoke in a weary, hopeless voice, “I suppose the very fact that you’re standing in front of me tells me what I have to do.”

The Doctor nodded.

David leaned back in the chair and snorted a laugh, though he spoke with a slight sneer. “And you’re standing there with the most neutral face you can keep, so that you don’t tell me when.”

“You have to work it out on your own, when you're ready. You know that.”

“Yes. I do.” David jumped to his feet and puffed out a breath. “Okay. You and I both know that once the paradox machine is turned off and the timestreams realign, I’m going to forget everything to do with this paradox, all of this life, until I build it again when I’m you. So, tell me. Why?”

“Why what?”

David threw his hands up. “Why everything!” Angry and agitated, he strode around the console. “Why wouldn’t you just tell me? You knew where the watch was! Why didn't you just give it to me and be done with it? Why did you let me continue living this lie? And why did you use the arch in the first place? How, for that matter?” He halted and spun toward the Doctor. “I remember my life, all of it. My existence might be just a Time Lord's fever dream, but it isn’t just a litany of facts, like John Smith’s was.”

The Doctor began pacing back and forth as he spoke. “The ‘how’ is easy. I am very clever. I built a regressive transcoder into the arch, and made myself into a human child. To live an entire life, not just insert myself somewhere. As to why I did it…” He stopped and turned to David, wagging a finger at him. “I know that the last person your Doctor met on your programme was Jackson Lake, which means you never got to see what happened later.”

The Doctor’s shoulders drooped. “I made mistakes. Big ones. I knew that I’d lost control, forgotten who I was and what was important. So I ran away. I chose the best way out I could think of: live a normal life, die a normal death. The one thing I could never have. I wanted your life. I never intended to come back.

“I suppose the TARDIS is really the one that saved me, creating the paradox to come to get you when she did.” As he spoke, he glanced at the console, his love for the machine evident in his eyes. He shook his head slowly, then caught David’s gaze and held it. “But I had to let you live through all of this, so that you would learn again what I had forgotten: what it’s all about, why we do it. Why it’s worth the price we pay. Why we have to keep fighting the darkness inside.”

David frowned, confused. What had he supposedly learned? He’d just tried to do the best that he, a simple human, could do. Nearly messed up a couple of times, almost got himself and the Doctor killed. The only truly resourceful thing he did, the Doctor had been in control, not him. “I don’t understand.”

The Doctor placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “No, David, you don’t. For once, you don't understand, and that's okay. The Doctor, your Doctor, he understands and he learned it well, by watching you do what you knew to be right, even in the worst circumstances. That’s what he needed to learn. I know he has, because I did.”

David stared at him in disbelief. He could not comprehend what the Doctor was talking about, why the Doctor would have anything to learn from him, and he realized that he wasn’t meant to: the moral was intended for the Doctor and he, David, was simply the storyteller. There was one thing he did know, though. "But it doesn’t matter anyway, does it? I’m just going to forget it all the moment the paradox circuit is turned off.”

“No.” The Doctor emphasized each of his phrases with a thrust of a hand. “No, you won't. You’ll forget what happened, yes, but you will remember what we learned. It’ll still be churning in the back of your mind after the timestream returns to normal. And you will need it, for what’s to come.”

The Doctor's words frightened him, and a cold hand gripped his heart. “Why? What’s going to happen to my Doctor?”

The Doctor shook his head, his eyes ancient and sad. “You'll find out, soon enough."

The Time Lord whirled and walked away, and David knew that he wasn’t going to reveal any more. Pressing the matter wouldn't change his mind. He turned away, too, striding to the edge of the console platform, his hand covering his mouth as he tried to sort through the jumbled mess in his head.

The Doctor and David stood on opposite sides of the console, backs to each other, while Amy and Rory watched them both, exchanging uncomfortable glances as the silence wore on. Amy finally elbowed Rory and jerked her head towards the nearest hallway, and together, they crept toward it as quietly as they could.

“No. Don’t go.” Turning to face them, David stretched one hand out in supplication. “I want to say goodbye.”

Amy and Rory were astonished, and their jaws dropped in unison. “You’re going to do it now?” Amy spoke for both of them.

David nodded, his expression impassive. “I have to. I’m going to do it. I’ve already done it." His eyes flicked towards the Doctor for a moment. "The only question is when, and I don’t see any reason to delay.”

“But…” Amy’s eyes glistened. “But what happens to you, when you become the Doctor? What happens to David?”

He cast about for a way to explain it easily. “It’s complicated. I'm... I'm just another facet of the Doctor. That’s all I am." That was one of the hardest things he had ever had to say. "When the Doctor comes back, I won't be me anymore. I'll be gone, and I’ll be the Doctor, but I'll still be there. If that makes any sense. Isn’t that right, Doctor?”

“That’s right,” he answered, turning around and leaning back on the railing. “I still hear you, in here” - he tapped his head - “along with everyone else I’ve been. Quiet, but there. Well, mostly quiet. Sometimes you lot make quite a racket.”

Amy waved her hands, wiping away the distraction. "No, wait. How can you just say that? How can you just throw yourself away like that? You sound like you're volunteering to jump off a cliff. You sound like you want to die."

David fiddled with the watch, weaving the chain around his fingers. "I suppose I do, in a way, because I don't really have a life, not anymore. I left my life in another universe - my home, my family, my friends, my job, even. And even if the Doctor could take me back there, I couldn't go back. Not after the wonders of all of this. Pretending to be the Doctor on a fake set, after being him, standing on the threshold of the TARDIS, floating amongst the stars? Nothing could compare."

His breath stuttered as he inhaled deeply. Both hands closed around the watch. "Really, though, I don't want to die. I'm scared. Frightened out of my head. Every instinct is telling me to run away, to save myself. But I know I have to go. And look at what I become!" Shaking, he gazed at the Doctor, tears starting to spill as he tilted his head with an expression of pure wonder. "The renegade Time Lord. The wandering god. The man who soars through time and the universe, saving people and planets without a thought for himself. My hero, all my life.” He turned back to Amy. “If that's who I am, if I’m just a story that'll help him remember who he is and why he does what he does, well, that's a magnificent legacy."

Sniffling, he smeared away the tears on each cheek, then held the watch up in front of his eyes on the tips of three long fingers. "He calls to me. I can hear him. My head is filled with his song. I could wait more, but really, it's time he took back his own." Letting the watch drop into his palm, he squeezed it hard in his hand.

Amy sprung forward and threw her arms around David, hugging him tight as her tears dotted the collar of his coat. "Goodbye, David. Oh, I don't know how you can... I could never do this."

David embraced her and, closing his eyes, buried his face in her copper hair, savouring her human warmth and scent, the last he would ever experience. He swallowed to suppress the shuddering in his chest and patted her lightly on the back. "Sure you could. What wouldn't you do for the Doctor?"

Pulling back, she held his shoulders at arms' length, regarding him sternly. "While you're in there, tell him to get rid of the bow tie."

David's eyes lit up, and he grinned at her affectionately. "Do you think he’d ever listen to me at all?"

"He would if he knew what was good for him."

"Goodbye, Amy Pond." She smiled through her tears, and as she stepped back, Rory took her place.

"David." He swung his arms nervously, gazing down and away from his friend for a moment, before finally giving him a brief, awkward hug.

As they separated, David grasped his hand. "Rory. My friend. Farewell. Thanks for everything."

"No, thank you." Stepping back, Rory wrung his hands as he spoke. "For doing what you did. I saw you: you didn't want to, but you let it happen. You gave yourself up, to save Amy. It's everything to me."

"It was my honour. Don't ever let her go."

"I won't." Rory's cheeks twitched a tiny smile, then he sidled over to stand by Amy, taking her hand in his.

David turned towards the Time Lord, who was still standing on the other side of the console platform watching him with an inscrutable expression, and nodded once at him.

"Doctor."

David held the watch in the palm of his hand and lightly traced the symbols on the cover with a trembling finger. Swallowing nervously, he inhaled deep into his chest and let his breath issue slowly from his mouth, then flicked the latch with a sudden jerk of his thumb. The cover popped open and ethereal light bathed him; the last things he saw were tendrils of golden energy snaking from the watch towards him, caressing his face. As his eyes closed, the consciousness of the Doctor enveloped his, the timestream of the universe blossoming into his mind, and David was no more.