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Deep underground, in a windowless dungeon on some backwater planet, the conversation turned to soul-marks.
“Do you know, I’ve never put much stock in it?” said Polly. “My sister has two names. She got one when she was a little girl and the other one just after she turned sixteen. Took a lot of the romance out of it.” They’d been left candles, but nothing to light them with, so Polly was trying to light one from the slippery stub of another.
“I’ve never met anyone with two,” said Ben. His fingers went, perhaps unconsciously, to touch his shoulder, where the Doctor once glimpsed the words Polly Wright. He often wondered if Polly had Ben’s name written somewhere on her body – and either way, had they talked about it?
Evidently they had not, for Ben had started the conversation with a vague comment about not having met his soulmate properly. The Doctor was only half-listening, anyway. Too busy trying to think of a way out of being sacrificed to the local sun-deity come dawn.
It was one of the stranger quirks of humanity, these soul-marks. He’d been terribly unnerved when he first heard of them – unnerved by the way these creatures had words on their skin, names of people they hadn’t met yet, not to mention the whole idea of a soulmate. He had to remind himself what short lives humans lived. When ‘forever’ was only fifty years or so, spending the rest of your life with one person couldn’t be so daunting.
“Never did know what to make of mine,” said Jamie. He’d been quiet ever since Ben brought the subject up, so quiet that the Doctor was startled to hear him talk.
“Why not?” said Polly. She’d got the fresh candle to take, and pressed the stump into a crack in the floor, where it would burn out sooner rather than later.
“Well, it’s no’ really a name,” said Jamie.
“Then it’s not a soul-mark, is it?” Ben said – probably rolling his eyes. It was too dark to see any of their faces properly, but for Polly, lit up from beneath like a jack-o-lantern.
“Don’t see what else it could be,” said Jamie. “Och, I’ll just show you.” He shifted about and tugged up the hem of his kilt.
The Doctor turned his gaze to the ceiling, wishing they’d all be quiet so he could think. Perhaps the simple approach would be best – they could just make a break for it when the guards came back in the morning.
“Goodness,” he heard Polly say. “That is strange.”
“It’s just a bunch of circles,” said Ben. He nudged the Doctor’s outstretched leg with his foot. “Look at this.”
“Hmm?” The Doctor turned to look, meaning to make some vague comment and go back to ruminating – but when he saw what they were looking at, his hearts skipped a beat.
Jamie had pulled his kilt up an inch or so above his left knee, revealing a strip of skin lit up golden by the candle-light. There, etched upon his skin in dusky brown, was an intricate design of interlocking circles.
It was, unmistakably, Gallifreyan script, and that alone would have been enough to shock him; it was also, equally unmistakably, the Doctor’s own name. The name he hadn’t used inside his own head for – oh, decades. He hadn’t seen it in writing for at least a hundred years, and yet somehow it’d come to be written on the skin of a human from the eighteenth century. Oh, dear. Suddenly humanity’s strange little quirk seemed almost cosmic.
“It could be a language,” said Polly.
Jamie rubbed his thumb over his soul-mark thoughtfully, and let his kilt fall to cover it again. “I’ve had it since I was a wee bairn. My parents showed it to the priest once. He thought it must be foreign, but he couldnae make head nor tail of it.”
The Doctor found his tongue at last. “No, I can’t imagine he’d be able to,” he said. Jamie turned to look at him – all three of them turned to look at him, just as he wondered if he ought perhaps not to have said anything. He cleared his throat. “It’s not just foreign. It’s alien.”
“What d’you mean, alien?” said Jamie.
“I mean to say,” said the Doctor, “that’s not any language you’ll find on earth.” He couldn’t see the expression on Jamie’s face as he digested the notion that his soul-mate was an alien, and he wasn’t sure whether or not he was glad of it.
At length, Jamie said, “what language is it?”
The Doctor hesitated. But there was no harm in answering. “That’s Gallifreyan script.” In the low light, he could just make out Jamie mouthing Gallifreyan to himself. Of course, it meant nothing to him. The Doctor never had told any of them where he came from.
“Gallifreyan?” Polly said aloud.
“From Gallifrey,” said the Doctor, as if that was what was confusing her. He couldn’t imagine it was common, soul-marks in alien languages. He’d seen one in Ancient Greek before, and that had been confounding enough for the poor girl.
“But I’ve never even been there,” said Jamie. He sounded more than slightly dazed. Probably, the Doctor supposed, he’d never anticipated getting an answer, let alone one so frankly bizarre.
“No, and I don’t imagine you ever will,” said the Doctor. “It’s not the friendliest of planets.” He heard Ben suck in a shocked breath, and wondered if he’d stepped on some unspoken rule. He decided he didn’t care and stood up to inspect the door again.
After all, he had no idea what one was supposed to do in this situation. He had no soul-mark of his own, of course, and it never occurred to him that he might be someone’s soulmate. It was an alarming prospect, and he had simply no idea what to do. Was he obliged to say something? Was it acceptable to say nothing at all? Was it better to say nothing at all, if it wasn’t mutual? But if it wasn’t mutual because one party had no soulmate at all – wasn’t even part of the system – then – oh, things just got so complicated.
At the very least, he couldn’t say anything now, with Ben and Polly sitting right there. And he had no idea how Jamie might react. He knew soul-mates weren’t necessarily romantic partners, but that did seem to be the default assumption, so Jamie might be upset at finding out that his was a man – or a man-shaped alien, at least. Or, even more likely, he might be upset at the alien part. Or he might expect a level of intimacy the Doctor wasn’t at all sure he was able to give.
He didn’t fully understand what it was to be someone’s soulmate, in the curious, objective sense than humans mean it, but he knew there were expectations. One of the expectations seemed to be that you spend the rest of your lives together, and that just wasn’t something he could offer Jamie, for Jamie was human, and humans were short-lived, fragile beings.
Somehow, he didn’t think it was possible to let someone down lightly when you were their soulmate.
“I think perhaps we should all get some sleep,” he said as he looked over the door-hinges for the third time. “I’m sure we’ll find a way out of this in the morning.”
*
It wasn’t easy – it never was – but they managed to get back to the TARDIS with nothing worse than a few bruises and one nasty cut. The Doctor reached for the dematerialisation switch the moment the doors were closed, then, once they were safely in transit, checked up on Ben. “How’s your arm?”
“Been better.” Ben peeled back the handkerchief he’d pressed to the cut and hissed. “Ouch.”
“Oh, dear,” said Polly. “I think you ought to get that bandaged properly.”
“There ought to be a medical box through there.” The Doctor nodded at the doors. “Make sure to use some antiseptic. Goodness knows where that knife’s been.” Ben and Polly exchanged a glance and trooped out of the console room, leaving him alone with Jamie.
He made a show of adjusting dials in the hope that Jamie would go after the others, because he was tired and grubby and altogether not in the mood for that conversation – he had resigned itself to its inevitability – but Jamie came and stood beside him, leaning against the console. “Where’re we going?”
“I haven’t the slightest idea,” said the Doctor.
“Can we – what did you call the planet? Where my soul-mark’s from?”
Yes. Truly inevitable. “Gallifrey.”
“Gallifrey,” Jamie repeated. “Can we go there?”
The Doctor breathed deeply before answering. “I’m afraid not, Jamie,” he said. “Even if I could steer the TARDIS there – which would be quite difficult – I wouldn’t. It would be much too dangerous.”
“What’s so dangerous about it?” said Jamie.
“The people, I suppose.” The Doctor flitted away to the other side of the console. He couldn’t stop thinking about Jamie’s soul-mark. The image of his name printed on Jamie’s skin seemed to have burned itself into his subconscious. He wasn’t at all sure he wanted to be someone’s soulmate. It struck him as an enormous responsibility.
“The people?” Jamie repeated. He sounded a little hurt, and it struck the Doctor – a moment too late – that to Jamie’s ears he’d just gone and insulted his theoretical soul-mate.
“Well, the ruling classes,” the Doctor amended, which seemed to placate Jamie slightly. He followed the Doctor around the console.
“Can you read it?”
“Hmm?”
“Can you read the writing?”
“Yes,” said the Doctor, though he didn’t like where this was going.
“What does it mean, then?”
“Oh, dear,” said the Doctor. “I’m not sure how to answer that. It’s such a finicky language, Gallifreyan. So long-winded. I don’t know if you’d even be able to pronounce it, Jamie.”
“I could try,” Jamie offered. The Doctor clucked his tongue. “How’d you know so much about it, anyway? Have you been there?”
“Of course I’ve been there!” The Doctor snapped. He took a breath, and apologised. “I’m sorry. That was – uncalled for.”
“Why’re you being like this?” Jamie sounded properly hurt now, which was the precise opposite of what the Doctor had been trying to achieve by not telling him. He was beginning to realise that there was simply no good way to go about this.
“If you must know, Jamie,” he said. “It’s my own planet.” He half expected Jamie to work it out for himself from that, but he didn’t.
“Your planet?” he echoed. “D’you know them?”
“It’s a big planet, Jamie,” said the Doctor, exasperated.
“Well, d’you –”
“Oh, will you please drop it, Jamie?” snapped the Doctor. “We are not going to Gallifrey. It isn’t safe.” He marched away around the console. When he looked up, Jamie was staring at him, his eyes wide and hurt.
“Why’re you being like this?” he said again.
“Jamie –”
“No,” said Jamie. “I don’t know why you’re – I’ve spent my whole life not knowing what it meant, or if I’d ever be able to find them – I thought I was going to be alone for my whole life, and now you tell me it comes from this planet but we cannae go there because it isnae safe, as if anywhere we go’s safe, and you’re acting like it’s not important and I’m the one who’s being – being – you’re acting like you just don’t understand and you won’t even tell me what it says –”
“Jamie,” said the Doctor, silencing him. “Jamie.” He took a deep breath, rubbing a hand over his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Jamie. You’re right. I don’t understand.” He stood twisting his fingers together as he spoke. “My people don’t have soulmates, or not the way you do. I don’t have a soulmate. I understand it intellectually – or I think I do – but whatever it is you’re going through just now, I’m afraid I don’t understand. Believe me when I say that I’m trying to do what’s best for you – but I’m afraid I’ve only made it worse.”
“Aye, I think you have,” said Jamie. “I don’t see that you know what’s best for me.”
“I wish I did,” the Doctor mused. He looked Jamie in the eye, and found that his gaze had softened. He hoped he hadn’t done too much damage. He wished he knew what to say next.
“Will y’help me find them?” said Jamie after a moment.
“Oh, Jamie.” The Doctor took his head in his hands for a moment.
“Well, will you?”
“Jamie,” said the Doctor, steeling himself. “That’s my name.”
Jamie was silent for a long moment. “Oh.”
“Quite,” the Doctor said.
“Your name?”
“Yes.”
Jamie drifted around the room, settling close by the Doctor. He rested a hand on the console, scant inches from the Doctor’s hand. “Were you even going to tell me?”
“I wasn’t sure what to say,” said the Doctor. “You heard what I said, Jamie. I don’t have a soulmate.”
“Then what does that make us?”
“I have no idea,” said the Doctor. “I suppose we’ll just have to find out.”
Jamie was quiet. “It doesnae say Doctor, does it?”
“No, it doesn’t,” the Doctor agreed. Jamie opened his mouth to ask, but the Doctor gave him a firm look.
“Och, I don’t even know your name,” said Jamie. “It’s written on my leg and I don’t know what it is.”
“My name is the Doctor,” the Doctor said. “That name – your soul-mark – I’ve not used it for – oh, ever such a long time. I haven’t the slightest idea how it found its way onto you.”
Jamie shrugged. “Same way you found me?”
“I suppose.” The Doctor’s lips twisted into a smile. “I think I’ve made rather a mess of this, haven’t I?”
“Aye, a bit,” Jamie agreed.
“I suppose I’m not what you were expecting,” said the Doctor.
“Didnae know what to expect,” said Jamie. “Didnae think I’d ever find you. Always thought you must live on the other side of the world.”
“I was much further away than that,” the Doctor said.
“You were,” said Jamie, marvelling. What an odd twist of fate it was – no, not fate. The Doctor didn’t believe in fate. But the universe was a very strange place sometimes, and if he understood everything that happened it would get frightfully dull.
Jamie shifted, and abruptly his hand was resting atop the Doctor’s. “I’m glad y’found me,” he said.
“I’m glad I found you too.” He wanted to go on, for there were other things he ought to say – that just because Jamie wasn’t his soul-mate didn’t mean he wasn’t fond of him and inclined to grow fonder, that he was very much looking forward to finding out just what this meant for them – but he couldn’t quite seem to find the words.
Jamie was stroking the back of his hand, his fingers twitching thoughtfully. “Y’don’t mind, do you?”
“Mind? Of course I don’t mind,” said the Doctor. Though he did, a little. It unnerved him, but he couldn’t even begin to explain his reasons – and it wasn’t as if he wasn’t a little charmed as well. “I’m quite flattered.” At that, Jamie’s face broke into its sunniest smile, and the Doctor couldn’t help but smile back. They stood quietly for a moment, Jamie looking into his eyes as if he couldn’t tear himself away, his fingers still atop the Doctor’s hand.
“I think we ought to check on Ben,” said the Doctor at length. “And we both ought to get washed up.” He straightened up, slipping his hand out from beneath Jamie’s with a twinge of reluctance.
“Oh, aye,” Jamie said, nodding.
As they went to find Ben and Polly, the Doctor let his hand drift to Jamie’s back and rest there, pressing lightly, guiding him into the TARDIS; and Jamie shifted closer, till they were all but shoulder to shoulder.
He truly didn’t, he reflected, have any idea what to expect from this, and probably nor did Jamie; but perhaps that was the beauty of it, not having any expectations at all.