Chapter Text
The Doctor didn't look at Donna, not willing to meet any of her fleeting, searching glances that spoke so many volumes with her loud and straightforward personality. She was worried-he could tell-but he didn't want to deal with it, not then. Maybe it was a bit childish, especially for one as old as himself, but he needed just a moment. Just a few moments of calm and peace and-
“What's that?” Questioned Donna, one eyebrow raised.
The Doctor blinked at the fiery woman, but he quickly realized what she meant. He was holding something in his hand, something he hadn't realized he'd picked up. His psychic paper. “A message, apparently.” He replied.
Donna leaned to his side, looking at it the same as him, whether or not she could see the message on the psychic paper. She rose an eyebrow at him, curiosity in her eyes.
“Help.” The Doctor read.
“Help?” Donna repeated.
“Yes. That's what I said.” The Doctor replied snappishly, an automatic reaction to her parroting, swallowing at the haunting reminder of that thing.
Donna scowled at him. If it were any other time, the Doctor could imagine the things that might come from her lips-fiery and angry and snippy and perfectly Donna. But not today, not now. “Is that it? Help?”
“Yes and no. It's something new.” The Doctor said. Because even looking at the paper, he knew it wasn't a normal cry for help. Usually the psychic paper caught onto whole thoughts and gave him more information like a child looking for its mother in panic.
However, this paper read something very simple, very simple indeed. Just one word. The psychic paper always caught onto thoughts, whole thoughts, but this was . . . simple. Someone or thing had focused this one word. It was almost as though someone had been pushing that one singular thought with enough force to imprint the word on anything or anyone that could possibly listen within the area. But if they had pushed it so hard, then they may still be pushing, still be . . .
“I believe we may be about to help a psychic.” The Doctor declared.
“How on earth did you get that from one bloody word?” Donna demanded, eyes boring into the little slip of paper with concentration that her frustration had already broken for her.
“Because I'm The Doctor.” The Doctor smiled at his redheaded companion and held out his hand. “Now come. Hold my hand.”
Donna rose a fiery eyebrow at him in return, but she held his hand. Then he closed his eyes. His companion gave him a look, one eyebrow raised but simply sighed and went along with his antics.
When the two opened their eyes, they were in a field. Donna gave a quiet gasp and nearly let go of the Doctor, but he tightened his grip. The night sky seemed dark and oppressive above them, and forestry pressed on their every side. If they squinted, they could even make out the shape of a castle looming in the distance above the trees.
“How . . . .” Donna trailed off, but she couldn't find the words to express herself.
“I'm sorry if your heads hurt or anything like that.” A voice called from behind them. “I just need your help, and this seems to be the only way I can communicate.”
The two of them spun around, eyes wide. “Jethro!” The Doctor gasped, but seeing the boy's eyes darken, he knew immediately that he was wrong. This wasn't the boy he had met mere hours ago.
He had the same face of blue eyes, dark hair, and alabaster skin, but the way he held himself was different. He was less a boy and more a man with too much weight on his shoulders. He wore threadbare clothes with boots nearly falling apart, an old, musty jacket, and a bright red handkerchief. He gave a tight smile.
“Jethro?” Asked Donna. “Who's Jethro?”
“Me, I'm afraid, but not really.” Jethro said. Both Donna and the Doctor gave Jethro looks of curiosity and confusion, and he quickly tried to rectify both issues. “See, I was at Midnight a bit ago. It seems I may have given the Doctor a bit of a scare, and I am so sorry. I'm not exactly in full control of myself, see.” Jethro gave the Doctor a piercing look, and a chill went down Donna's spine. “And I am sorry, Doctor, for what happened on the way to the caves.”
An immediate tension leaked into the Doctor's spine, and Donna almost winced as he gained a tight grip on her hand. “You still haven't told us your name.” The Doctor said.
“So I haven't.” Agreed the man. Slowly, he approached them, and the sky seemed even more oppressive, the forest less of an escape route and more crowded, blocking any attempts to run. “I'd have you guess, but it seems I'm much too old for that. I'm even older than you, Doctor.”
The man before them stopped, leaving just enough space for them to relax in normal conversation, but there could be no relaxation. His presence alone was startling and a bit like electricity. It was shocking and a bit terrifying with a quiet buzz that seemed to make every hair on the back of Donna's neck stand up, but it was the Doctor's quiet gasp that made her truly feel as though she stood before a true power.
“You can't be.” The Doctor breathed, but Donna could see in his eyes that yes, the man before her was, and he was interesting. Her spaceman was hooked on this new man, this new story, and there was no stopping this adventure for him.
And maybe she was hooked, too, a little bit.
“But I am.” Said the man, and Donna could have sworn his eyes flashed gold like lightning.
“Sorry to interrupt.” Donna spoke, screwing up her courage in the midst of the seeming gathering of power and intrigue. “But who are you?”
The man who wasn't but was Jethro smiled at her kindly and indulgently, a bit like the Doctor when she thought about it, spoke with a very soft breath. She almost had to lean in to catch his voice, but when she did, his words seemed thunderous in her mind. “I'm Merlin.”
Merlin. Merlin ! She thought there had been no such thing! But one look at the Doctor and that calculating gleam of his told her that this was no surprise to him.
Merlin ( Merlin! ) continued on that same soft breath. “And I need your help.”
Before he could continue or Donna could try to wrap her mind around his identity, the ground began to shake. The night and the field seemed to struggle to hold their form against flashes of a white room too much like a hospital room for comfort. As it stopped, Donna and the Doctor glanced at one another.
The Doctor rose his eyes. “What-”
He cut himself off (quite the feat, if Donna could say so), but before she could question it, she saw Merlin.
It was almost like looking at an entirely different person. Spiked hair and looking as though he belonged in a rock band, she spotted a necklace with an interesting design as well as two rings and bracelets that looked too much like bindings for her comfort. Even his belt was studded. But the thing that caught her attention was his face.
He had become pale and tired, eyes haunted. He stared at his hands as though he barely recognized them. His eyes seemed to stare deep into her soul when he rose his eyes to her, and a shiver ran down her spine. “I haven't much time.”
“Time for what?” The Doctor asked as the night sky fought the image of the white ceiling once again.
“This connection. We haven't much time left to talk, so I must hurry.” Merlin swallowed, looking like a teenager for that moment with the terror in his eyes so dark and overwhelming. “It was eighteen years after Arthur's death. I had realized by then that I wasn't aging as the rest of my friends, and I had become the court sorcerer of Camelot.” A brief smile touched his eyes, but it was gone before any joy could be brought to him. The environment seemed to switch again, struggling. “It was a noble family. Dion, I believe, but it's been too long to know for sure. They said they needed healing for their daughter, and I believed it. They trapped me with dark magic and bound me with it.” Disgust and grief made his face, handsome though it was, ugly. Donna winced. He swallowed, seeming to struggle with speaking.
“Then what?” The Doctor prompted. “I can't help if you don't tell me.”
Donna considered hitting him for the harsh words, but Merlin managed to force himself to speak. “Nothing. Nothing happened for centuries. They laid low, using me for cheap, disgusting habits. Sometime in the seventeenth or eighteenth century, I managed to start gaining some awareness. I started being able to rebel a bit, but even now I can't fully stand up to them. I can't ignore a direct order.” He looked at the Doctor, pained.
Something seemed to pass through Merlin's look, and understanding crossed her Doctor's face. He didn't share, but his lips parted in a silent fury.
Donna turned away, looking the warlock in the eyes. “How can we help?”
He took a deep breath, his eyes focusing just over her shoulder. Faintly, Donna wondered if he was looking at the castle behind her. She wondered if it was as he remembered. “The dark magic used to bind me created an imbalance in the world, and magic repaired it the only way it could.”
“A way to break your curse?” Asked Donna.
Merlin smiled bitterly. Donna somehow felt as though it didn't fit on his face. It looked wrong, maybe even terrifying. The grass flickered to tile. “For each binding, a figure from Arthur's age is born. It's only through them that my bindings may be broken. I know one figure is that of Arthur.” A pained look crossed his face. He looked so much in pain that even his presence didn't deter Donna's wish to hug him. “The rest are a mystery to me. There will be nine figures. Please find them before it's too late.”
“Why?” The Doctor spoke up.
Donna bristled. “What do you mean why ? Wouldn't you want someone to help if it were you?”
“Why now?” The Doctor demanded. “You've been trapped for longer than I've been alive, and that's saying something. Why haven't you asked for help before?”
Donna's fury immediately curbed (a little – after all, he could have been nicer), and she turned to Merlin, eyes sparkling with sympathy. He swallowed. “There's a monster out there without a name. It's dark and powerful, and all it does is repeat.”
The Doctor's head snapped up. “You don't mean –”
“I do. They can see that they don't have full control over me anymore, and they've made some kind of a deal. I don't know what kind, but with me under full control, they're going to take the universe and everything else and take it for themselves. They intend to control life itself.” Merlin looked shaken, his eyes dark as though he knew something that he could never truly express, and Donna's eyebrows furrowed.
“They couldn't, could they? Not with just you. Doctor?” She turned to him, but his eyes were dark with knowledge that he, too, knew and could not ever share. “Doctor?” She begged in a insecure desperation.
“They could.” The Doctor confirmed, destroying any hope Donna had. “The Arthurian legends do not exaggerate Merlin's powers. In fact, they do quite the opposite.”
The stinging sensation of Merlin's presence seemed to intensify at the acknowledgment, but Donna knew it was merely her recognition of his true power that caused the intensity. Such power didn't belong to the hands of anyone who would abuse it.
Suddenly, she was afraid of what would happen if they couldn't find them.
“I need you both to go to the Lake.” Merlin spoke, his hands beginning to tremble in their encasement. “There you can find traces of energy. Look for that energy, and you will find those that will return.”
“But we can't.” The Doctor's eyebrows were furrowed. “We can't go back to that time –”
“Then don't.” Merlin interrupted. “Go after Arthur's death. There's no chance of interfering or breaking the time-lock then.” He smiled a heart-breaking smile at them. “You Time Lords. Always so afraid of breaking the time-stream as if you could. Time is fluid, Doctor. A mix of balance and maneuverability. Some things cannot be changed no matter how we try.” He looked sad. “Remember that, Doctor. It will save you some heartbreak.”
Before Donna or the Doctor could respond, the Earth beneath their feet began to shake. It was only Donna's painfully tight grip on her Doctor's hand that stopped her from falling.
“I'm afraid our time has come to an end.” Merlin breathed, seeming pained. “I'll try to contact you again, but I may not have the strength.” Everything started to take an unhealthy glow, and Donna realized sickly that the white room was beginning to take over once and for all. “Goodbye, Doctor, Donna.”
Suddenly, they were back on Midnight, holding hands and the psychic paper back in the Doctor's hand, teasing them with the lost message for help.
With a sickening feeling of horror in her stomach, Donna looked at the Doctor. “We never told him for sure we were going to help him.”
He spared her a look before he took her hand in his. “Come on.” He grinned. “Next stop – The Lake of Avalon.”
They ran.