FIC: Jamie - Chapter 3
May. 18th, 2009 10:08 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nentariTitle: Jamie - Chapter 3
Author: Me
Beta-Reader:alouzon
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1915
Disclaimer: Doctor Who and all its characters belong to the BBC. I own nothing - not even the Fourteenth Doctor.
Summary: Jamie McCrimmon was returned to 18th century Scotland, his memories erased... But one day, a ghost from those lost days shows up at his doorstep.
Warning: Spoilers for The War Games and The Two Doctors.
Author's Notes: Fourteen speaks! It was a bit difficult to start this episode (I blame Bruce and Kirsty) but once Jamie had an idea for the two of us it began to advance smoothly.
Chapter 3
"This... this is the work of the devil."
Bruce's words broke the stunned silence that had filled the room. However, Jamie didn't seem to notice it: he stared transfixed at the sleeping woman before him, struggling to make sense of it all. If the dreams were real, as he hoped, there was only one explanation: this was the Doctor, and he had changed his body once again. However, the part of his intellect that struggled to keep himself bound to reality insisted on defying this reasoning, transforming his mind into a battlefield between emotion and logic.
He found himself studying the woman's face. Compared to the former occupant of the bed she seemed small and frail (though he was certain this could be a trick of the light, as she was still wearing the stranger's clothes, which were far too large for her), with short dark hair that gave her a certain childlike air. She wasn't beautiful, at least not in the same sense as Kirsty, but her delicate elfin features were certainly not unattractive - and there seemed to be something about her, something beyond the physical appearance, which Jamie could almost see, and that felt so very familiar.
"Doctor?" he whispered almost inaudibly. He started to approach the bed once more, and he felt his friends seize his arms, pulling him back.
"What d'you think you're doing?" asked Kirsty, terror all over her face. "Bruce is right. This is evil work. She's a witch!"
"She's not a witch!" snapped Jamie, inexplicably annoyed by the superstitious idea. Bruce and Kirsty quickly exchanged worried glances. "She's not," Jamie insisted. "She... Och, I cannae explain it, but there's no evil in this." He received no reply from them. They continued to gaze at him with a mix of fear, worry and disbelief. Jamie rubbed his forehead, feeling one of his infrequent headaches coming on. How could he explain this to them in a way they could understand (not fully understanding it himself), without being accused of possession? It didn't take him long to realize he couldn't. It was necessary to come up with a new strategy.
"Listen, how can you be certain of that?"
"How can we..." Kirsty seemed surprised by this line of questioning. "Jamie, we just saw that... man, or demon, or whatever he was, turn into a witch right in front of us!"
"Aye, so you saw it," Jamie was still feeling exasperated, and with no idea of exactly how to calm them down, but he carried on. "But how can you be sure she's the one responsible?"
"Eh?" his two friends spoke in unison.
"What if..." He paused, waving his hand vaguely in the air, trying to come up with something. "What if she was under some sort of spell, and something just freed her?"
Bruce frowned. "You mean, she was bewitched?"
"Aye." Jamie tried hard not to smile with satisfaction; this was a great idea. "She could be a victim, for all we know."
"I cannae believe it." In spite of her words, Kirsty seemed somewhat less terrified.
"Just think about it, will you? Sure, she could be a witch, but how could we know for certain?"
Kirsty thought about this for a moment. "A priest would know," she eventually admitted. The feeling of triumph left Jamie momentarily. He had overlooked the possibility that a priest might be summoned. Sprinkling the Doctor with holy water would probably do nothing to her, but if Kirsty and Bruce were insistent enough, any priest they found might feel the need to take more drastic, barbaric measures to ensure a confession. He mentally shrugged. By the time Kirsty returned with the village priest - provided he would even agree to accompany them to the pier-side settlement this early in the morning - Jamie would have managed to hide the stranger somewhere. If she was indeed the Doctor, he would not let any harm come to her.
"Then we should fetch one," he agreed reasonably, hoping they could not detect his unwillingness to do so. "Without that, we cannae be sure if she is evil or not."
"He's right," Bruce agreed. "We'll go to the village in the morning."
Kirsty was anxious again, wringing her hands and already edging ever so slightly toward the door. "Why not now?"
"Are you daft, woman?" Bruce replied. "It's still dark outside. There's a bear out there! We don't even know how long it will be before daylight."
"And you know the French priest will not be glad to see us show up in the middle of the night," Jamie added.
Kirsty sighed. "Oh, all right. But I'm not staying here with her."
"We aren't asking you to, Dear Heart," Bruce said, squeezing her arm gently. "You go to bed, try to go back to sleep. Jamie and I will keep guard."
Jamie frowned. It would be better to get rid of them both, if he was to hide the woman before they could fetch the priest. "Er... You said you were tired. I can do it alone, if you want."
"No, two people on watch will be better than one, especially if she is a witch." said Bruce stubbornly.
"Och, all right," he relented. Knowing Bruce, he'd probably nod off after a while anyway.
This agreed, all three of them turned to look at the sleeping woman once again, and let out a collective gasp as they realized the bed was empty.
"The door!" Kirsty pointed. Indeed, the cottage door was wide open. The woman had woken up and took the chance to escape while they were all busy talking. Without hesitation, Jamie rushed out after her.
"Jamie, wait!" he heard Bruce shout.
As soon as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw a shape ahead of him, running with some difficulty. He figured he'd have no problem reaching her, if she kept a stumbling gait like that. After a few steps, he felt something strange turn under his foot, and stopped to have a look. It was a very large shoe, different from any sort of footwear he could remember seeing. Looking ahead, he saw that the woman's pace had now quickened, and realized that her initial difficulty came from her oversized garments.
Indeed, as he advanced, he picked up yet another shoe, a pair of trousers, and other garments. If she keeps on like this, she'll be naked by the time she reaches the box, he thought, his face blushing crimson.
"Jamie!"
He looked behind him. Kirsty and Bruce were trailing after him, Bruce once again wielding his pistol. He wanted to shout for them to stay back, but he knew it was no use. Instead, he quickened his pace, trying to reach the woman before Bruce's fear of beasties hiding in the darkness could get her shot.
To his alarm, he saw her stumble again, as she reached the blue box. He could not understand why, as the pieces of clothing that had encumbered her progress were now in his possession. He faltered a moment, thinking she had somehow been injured in her flight to the blue box.
"Doctor!" he shouted, as he pelted toward her.
She turned around, and her body contorted. The spectacle of a Highlander charging toward her seemed to work as an incentive to keep moving. She swiftly straightened up again and rushed inside the box.
"Oh no, you don't!" Jamie muttered with gritted teeth, as he saw the door swinging shut. Gathering all his strength, he ran as fast as he could, throwing his shoulder against the door, which burst open with the impact, allowing him to crash inside.
"Jamie, come back!" he heard Kirsty's voice calling. He turned around to see his friends some twenty feet away, afraid of advancing any further. With a sigh, he straightened up, left the discarded shoes and trousers scattered on the floor, as the door closed behind him - and immediately fell back to the floor once again, when the ground beneath his feet shook with violence and a familiar grating sound filled his ears.
Fighting to right himself, Jamie finally managed to look round at the interior of the box, and the sight startled him. It was not the fact that it was so much bigger on the inside that made him start (for some reason that was something he had expected), it was the fact that it didn't look at all the way it did in his dreams, where everything had been white and luminous. Instead, it was shadowy, emitting a sort of golden glow, with pillars that seemed to be made of wood branching toward the ceiling; it looked more like a living thing than ever before, though he had no doubt it was alive, even when he remembered the other interior. The only thing that seemed relatively close in appearance to what he had seen in his dreams was a contraption that rose right in the middle of the floor, which looked older (and, again, darker) but otherwise remained the same. Right next to it, the woman was lying, facedown.
"Doctor!" he cried, once again. He ran to her, stumbling over one of the discarded shoes in the process. He gently turned her over and raised her head; she was awake and conscious, but her face showed extreme pain and discomfort.
"This shouldn't have happened. I should be..." She winced, and looked at him, startled. "You?"
"Doctor?" he asked. "It is you, isn't it?"
Another wince. "I should be asking the same question. I thought I was delirious." She raised her hand and patted one of his own, which was still holding the back of her head. "Not a hallucination." The hand moved to his face, accidentally poking him in the eye.
"Ow!" he cried.
"Definitely not a hallucination." She raised herself to a sitting position, with some difficulty, and appraised him. Through his open eye (he was now rubbing the one she had just poked) he could see that her own eyes were large and brown - and yet there was a merry twinkle in them, which he remembered seeing in a very familiar blue pair.
She looked at him for a few seconds, looking a little confused, and more than a little dazed. "What are you doing in Thoros Beta?"
"Eh?"
"I thought you were in France."
"This is France," he grumbled, annoyed.
The look of confusion on her face grew even bigger. "But how can..." Her eyes widened, and then narrowed. "Of course." She looked up. "This was your doing, wasn't it, you stupid machine?" she shouted, shaking a fist at the ceiling. "I asked you one thing - just one thing! - send me to Thoros Beta so that I could warn Yrcanos. But did you do it? Nooo!"
The room around them shook violently, as if in response. The woman winced, and looked up again. "Yes, yes, you're right, old girl. I'm sorry." She then looked at Jamie. "It's great to see you again, James Robert McCrimmon. I just wish it had happened under better circumstances. I'm really not myself right now."
"But you are the Doctor, aren't you?" he insisted.
She nodded. "Yes."
"But... how? What happened?" he gestured at her new form, currently barefoot and clad in a far too large white shirt. The woman (the Doctor, he reminded himself) cringed and curled into a ball. After a few seconds, she raised her head to face him again.
"An impossibility," she whispered.
Author: Me
Beta-Reader:
alouzonFandom: Doctor Who
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1915
Disclaimer: Doctor Who and all its characters belong to the BBC. I own nothing - not even the Fourteenth Doctor.
Summary: Jamie McCrimmon was returned to 18th century Scotland, his memories erased... But one day, a ghost from those lost days shows up at his doorstep.
Warning: Spoilers for The War Games and The Two Doctors.
Author's Notes: Fourteen speaks! It was a bit difficult to start this episode (I blame Bruce and Kirsty) but once Jamie had an idea for the two of us it began to advance smoothly.
"This... this is the work of the devil."
Bruce's words broke the stunned silence that had filled the room. However, Jamie didn't seem to notice it: he stared transfixed at the sleeping woman before him, struggling to make sense of it all. If the dreams were real, as he hoped, there was only one explanation: this was the Doctor, and he had changed his body once again. However, the part of his intellect that struggled to keep himself bound to reality insisted on defying this reasoning, transforming his mind into a battlefield between emotion and logic.
He found himself studying the woman's face. Compared to the former occupant of the bed she seemed small and frail (though he was certain this could be a trick of the light, as she was still wearing the stranger's clothes, which were far too large for her), with short dark hair that gave her a certain childlike air. She wasn't beautiful, at least not in the same sense as Kirsty, but her delicate elfin features were certainly not unattractive - and there seemed to be something about her, something beyond the physical appearance, which Jamie could almost see, and that felt so very familiar.
"Doctor?" he whispered almost inaudibly. He started to approach the bed once more, and he felt his friends seize his arms, pulling him back.
"What d'you think you're doing?" asked Kirsty, terror all over her face. "Bruce is right. This is evil work. She's a witch!"
"She's not a witch!" snapped Jamie, inexplicably annoyed by the superstitious idea. Bruce and Kirsty quickly exchanged worried glances. "She's not," Jamie insisted. "She... Och, I cannae explain it, but there's no evil in this." He received no reply from them. They continued to gaze at him with a mix of fear, worry and disbelief. Jamie rubbed his forehead, feeling one of his infrequent headaches coming on. How could he explain this to them in a way they could understand (not fully understanding it himself), without being accused of possession? It didn't take him long to realize he couldn't. It was necessary to come up with a new strategy.
"Listen, how can you be certain of that?"
"How can we..." Kirsty seemed surprised by this line of questioning. "Jamie, we just saw that... man, or demon, or whatever he was, turn into a witch right in front of us!"
"Aye, so you saw it," Jamie was still feeling exasperated, and with no idea of exactly how to calm them down, but he carried on. "But how can you be sure she's the one responsible?"
"Eh?" his two friends spoke in unison.
"What if..." He paused, waving his hand vaguely in the air, trying to come up with something. "What if she was under some sort of spell, and something just freed her?"
Bruce frowned. "You mean, she was bewitched?"
"Aye." Jamie tried hard not to smile with satisfaction; this was a great idea. "She could be a victim, for all we know."
"I cannae believe it." In spite of her words, Kirsty seemed somewhat less terrified.
"Just think about it, will you? Sure, she could be a witch, but how could we know for certain?"
Kirsty thought about this for a moment. "A priest would know," she eventually admitted. The feeling of triumph left Jamie momentarily. He had overlooked the possibility that a priest might be summoned. Sprinkling the Doctor with holy water would probably do nothing to her, but if Kirsty and Bruce were insistent enough, any priest they found might feel the need to take more drastic, barbaric measures to ensure a confession. He mentally shrugged. By the time Kirsty returned with the village priest - provided he would even agree to accompany them to the pier-side settlement this early in the morning - Jamie would have managed to hide the stranger somewhere. If she was indeed the Doctor, he would not let any harm come to her.
"Then we should fetch one," he agreed reasonably, hoping they could not detect his unwillingness to do so. "Without that, we cannae be sure if she is evil or not."
"He's right," Bruce agreed. "We'll go to the village in the morning."
Kirsty was anxious again, wringing her hands and already edging ever so slightly toward the door. "Why not now?"
"Are you daft, woman?" Bruce replied. "It's still dark outside. There's a bear out there! We don't even know how long it will be before daylight."
"And you know the French priest will not be glad to see us show up in the middle of the night," Jamie added.
Kirsty sighed. "Oh, all right. But I'm not staying here with her."
"We aren't asking you to, Dear Heart," Bruce said, squeezing her arm gently. "You go to bed, try to go back to sleep. Jamie and I will keep guard."
Jamie frowned. It would be better to get rid of them both, if he was to hide the woman before they could fetch the priest. "Er... You said you were tired. I can do it alone, if you want."
"No, two people on watch will be better than one, especially if she is a witch." said Bruce stubbornly.
"Och, all right," he relented. Knowing Bruce, he'd probably nod off after a while anyway.
This agreed, all three of them turned to look at the sleeping woman once again, and let out a collective gasp as they realized the bed was empty.
"The door!" Kirsty pointed. Indeed, the cottage door was wide open. The woman had woken up and took the chance to escape while they were all busy talking. Without hesitation, Jamie rushed out after her.
"Jamie, wait!" he heard Bruce shout.
As soon as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he saw a shape ahead of him, running with some difficulty. He figured he'd have no problem reaching her, if she kept a stumbling gait like that. After a few steps, he felt something strange turn under his foot, and stopped to have a look. It was a very large shoe, different from any sort of footwear he could remember seeing. Looking ahead, he saw that the woman's pace had now quickened, and realized that her initial difficulty came from her oversized garments.
Indeed, as he advanced, he picked up yet another shoe, a pair of trousers, and other garments. If she keeps on like this, she'll be naked by the time she reaches the box, he thought, his face blushing crimson.
"Jamie!"
He looked behind him. Kirsty and Bruce were trailing after him, Bruce once again wielding his pistol. He wanted to shout for them to stay back, but he knew it was no use. Instead, he quickened his pace, trying to reach the woman before Bruce's fear of beasties hiding in the darkness could get her shot.
To his alarm, he saw her stumble again, as she reached the blue box. He could not understand why, as the pieces of clothing that had encumbered her progress were now in his possession. He faltered a moment, thinking she had somehow been injured in her flight to the blue box.
"Doctor!" he shouted, as he pelted toward her.
She turned around, and her body contorted. The spectacle of a Highlander charging toward her seemed to work as an incentive to keep moving. She swiftly straightened up again and rushed inside the box.
"Oh no, you don't!" Jamie muttered with gritted teeth, as he saw the door swinging shut. Gathering all his strength, he ran as fast as he could, throwing his shoulder against the door, which burst open with the impact, allowing him to crash inside.
"Jamie, come back!" he heard Kirsty's voice calling. He turned around to see his friends some twenty feet away, afraid of advancing any further. With a sigh, he straightened up, left the discarded shoes and trousers scattered on the floor, as the door closed behind him - and immediately fell back to the floor once again, when the ground beneath his feet shook with violence and a familiar grating sound filled his ears.
Fighting to right himself, Jamie finally managed to look round at the interior of the box, and the sight startled him. It was not the fact that it was so much bigger on the inside that made him start (for some reason that was something he had expected), it was the fact that it didn't look at all the way it did in his dreams, where everything had been white and luminous. Instead, it was shadowy, emitting a sort of golden glow, with pillars that seemed to be made of wood branching toward the ceiling; it looked more like a living thing than ever before, though he had no doubt it was alive, even when he remembered the other interior. The only thing that seemed relatively close in appearance to what he had seen in his dreams was a contraption that rose right in the middle of the floor, which looked older (and, again, darker) but otherwise remained the same. Right next to it, the woman was lying, facedown.
"Doctor!" he cried, once again. He ran to her, stumbling over one of the discarded shoes in the process. He gently turned her over and raised her head; she was awake and conscious, but her face showed extreme pain and discomfort.
"This shouldn't have happened. I should be..." She winced, and looked at him, startled. "You?"
"Doctor?" he asked. "It is you, isn't it?"
Another wince. "I should be asking the same question. I thought I was delirious." She raised her hand and patted one of his own, which was still holding the back of her head. "Not a hallucination." The hand moved to his face, accidentally poking him in the eye.
"Ow!" he cried.
"Definitely not a hallucination." She raised herself to a sitting position, with some difficulty, and appraised him. Through his open eye (he was now rubbing the one she had just poked) he could see that her own eyes were large and brown - and yet there was a merry twinkle in them, which he remembered seeing in a very familiar blue pair.
She looked at him for a few seconds, looking a little confused, and more than a little dazed. "What are you doing in Thoros Beta?"
"Eh?"
"I thought you were in France."
"This is France," he grumbled, annoyed.
The look of confusion on her face grew even bigger. "But how can..." Her eyes widened, and then narrowed. "Of course." She looked up. "This was your doing, wasn't it, you stupid machine?" she shouted, shaking a fist at the ceiling. "I asked you one thing - just one thing! - send me to Thoros Beta so that I could warn Yrcanos. But did you do it? Nooo!"
The room around them shook violently, as if in response. The woman winced, and looked up again. "Yes, yes, you're right, old girl. I'm sorry." She then looked at Jamie. "It's great to see you again, James Robert McCrimmon. I just wish it had happened under better circumstances. I'm really not myself right now."
"But you are the Doctor, aren't you?" he insisted.
She nodded. "Yes."
"But... how? What happened?" he gestured at her new form, currently barefoot and clad in a far too large white shirt. The woman (the Doctor, he reminded himself) cringed and curled into a ball. After a few seconds, she raised her head to face him again.
"An impossibility," she whispered.
