FIC: The Rutan Relics - Chapter 7
May. 18th, 2009 10:38 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
nentariTitle: The Rutan Relics - Chapter 7
Author: Me
Beta-Reader:alouzon
Fandom: Doctor Who/M*A*S*H
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2352
Disclaimer: Doctor Who and all its characters belong to the BBC; M*A*S*H and all its characters belong to Twentieth Century Fox. I own nothing - not even the Fourteenth Doctor.
Summary: The Doctor returns to a place he has visited in the past to stop some old enemies from recovering something that is best left forgotten.
Warning: Spoilers for Abyssinia, Henry/Welcome to Korea; this particular chapter also has spoilers for The Krotons and The Two Doctors.
Author's Notes: This chapter was rather difficult to write; nothing much happens in it, apart from naked!Frank - and I apologize profusely for its inclusion.
Chapter 7
The journey back to the hospital was made in almost complete silence, broken only by the occasional sound of shelling echoing some miles away at the front line of battle. Captain Pierce led the way, Kim trying to stay as close as possible to him as if he were a shield; Jamie followed close behind, the Doctor lolling in his arms, and Hye brought up the rear, her bat held at the ready.
Everybody was on the alert, as if expecting the Rutans to show up and jump on them at any second. Jamie was no exception, but in spite of this he still managed to observe his companions during those minutes of marching. Now that he had the opportunity to study them covertly, he was finally able to notice the differences between the two girls. Both were wearing the same type of tent-like dress, with what looked like a small grey vest, both had long black hair that fell below the waist, tied in a ponytail by a piece of twine - and yet, in spite of their similar attire, they couldn't have looked more different. Kim had the round, cherubic face of an infant; she looked at everything with terror and apprehension, jumping at every sound. Hye, Jamie noticed, had larger eyes, more refined features, and while she also looked about, equally watchful, she didn't seem as terrified as her friend. If she was frightened, the lass hid it well.
It didn't take them long to reach the camp and enter what Captain Pierce had called the Post-Op ward: a large room filled with beds, where patients were placed after surgery for observation. Because of the evacuation, most of the beds stood empty and only a few patients remained; among them was a small boy about five years old, whom Jamie immediately identified as Kim's brother Haneul. His chest and head were bandaged and his right arm was set in a cast, but his face betrayed no pain or discomfort; instead, he looked like a peacefully sleeping angel.
"Haneul!" Kim cried, the moment she saw him. With a whimper, she flew to her brother's side, intent on giving him a hug, but Captain Pierce stopped her.
"Hey, hey, hey," he said, in a low voice. "Don't wake him. He's sleeping. That's good." He smiled at the girl. "You can hug him all you want the moment he wakes up, provided you don't tear any stitches. OK?"
With her hands still placed on the sleeping boy's shoulders, as if afraid that loss of contact would result in his death, the girl nodded. "Thanks, Hawkeye," she said in a whisper. The Captain gave her a reassuring smile before turning to Jamie.
"You can put the Major here," he said, pointing to the bed immediately next to Haneul's. Gently, the piper did as ordered, while Captain Hunnicutt approached them from the far end of the room.
"Hey, what's going on?" he asked, a frown of concern creasing his features.
"Major Smith here got electrocuted," the older Captain said, as Jamie brushed the rebellious fringe from the Doctor's eyes, in what was becoming an automatic gesture. "Don't ask me how, but she survived. We brought her here for some rest." He turned to Hye. "Listen, with the nurses gone and Ferret Face stashed God knows where, BJ and I will have our hands full. I hope we won't be long, but will you keep an eye on her in case her condition suddenly changes?"
Hye nodded. Jamie was surprised to see Captain Pierce act in such a professional, no-nonsense manner; given his prior behaviour, the young Scot had half expected Pierce to grope her under the guise of a medical examination the moment she arrived in Post-Op. The Captain must have sensed his surprise, adding, "As you can see, I'm mostly all business here. Now, I don't know what we can do for her, apart from waiting," he nodded towards the Doctor, "but she'll be in good hands while you're gone."
"Aye," Jamie said with a nod, "I can see that, right enough. I'll be going, then." He started to leave, but quickly turned back. "Oh, Captain?"
"Yes?" Captain Pierce was pulling his white coat over his filthy fatigues, and stopped at the sound of the Highlander calling him.
"Thank you." Jamie's usual truculent expression was briefly muted by a twist of his lips, in something that almost resembled a soft smile.
Captain Pierce grinned. "Just don't tell anyone about this. I have a reputation as an irresponsible creep to maintain." Nodding, Jamie turned and left the ward.
***
A Sunday lunch at home. Him, Louise and the kids, all in their best clothes and looking like a proper, Norman Rockwell, all-American family. Louise, gazing in near-sighted awe at her brave husband, who just returned from fighting the yellow hordes, hands him the mashed potatoes, as their youngest daughter asks Daddy to tell her more about how he was able to court-martial that big anti-American meanie Captain Pierce and save Korea from Communism. And then, Louise turns to him and asks, "Frank?"
"Yes, Mommy?" he replies.
"Frank, are you awake?" Her voice sounds softer, less nasal than usual.
"Awake? Of course I'm awake, Louise."
His wife's face contorts with anger. "Louise?!"
And then she smacks him.
The pain cleared Frank's mind, and Louise's dry, angular face was quickly replaced by Margaret's rounder, more attractive features, half-hidden in darkness, half-illuminated by an unearthly bluish glow.
"Wake up, you miserable..." she hissed.
"Margaret, you hit me!" he tried to touch his face, only to realize he couldn't raise his arm. "What's happening?"
"They tied us up," she said, as she glanced around with a worried expression. "I managed to release myself just now. Here, let me give you a hand."
"They? Who are they, Margaret?" Frank asked, as Margaret released his arms one at a time. He looked around, but all he could see were rocks all around them.
"I don't know," she said. "But one of them had my face," she added in an outraged tone, "so it must be those blobs again. Remember last year when that one impersonated that little girl?"
Frank felt a strange sensation on his chest. "Ooh, Margaret, that tickles!" he screeched with an ill-suppressed giggle.
"Shh, be quiet!" she hissed, as she looked around worriedly once more. "They might hear us!"
Frank opened his eyes again, and realized that the tickling sensation came from Margaret removing some small discs from his chest, which were attached with wires to something on the side of his bed (or whatever it was he was lying on). And then he noticed his chest. And the rest of himself.
"Margaret..." he said with a mortified whimper, "we're N-A-K-E-D!" He spelled the word in a nervous whisper, as if the mere sound of those five letters together were to somehow make him even more naked.
"Frank, you're wearing underwear," Margaret said with impatience, as if there were more important things than being caught with their pants down. Indeed, as Frank realized, both he and Margaret were wearing flesh-colored shorts (with the addition of a strapless bra, in Margaret's case) made of a substance he was unable to recognize but which had the same texture as rubber; this underwear seemed to be seamless and molded onto the skin.
"These aren't mine!" he shrieked with outrage. Someone dressing him up in something so tight when he wasn't conscious was almost as bad as leaving him naked. However, Margaret didn't seem to share his feelings, as she clearly rolled his eyes at his words as she removed the last disc from his body. "For heaven's sake, Frank, that's not important."
"Not... not important?!" Frank was shocked. Could this be the same Margaret Houlihan who fought so hard for decency and cleanliness, and who panicked at the thought of what the enemy could do to a helpless woman like herself? "Margaret, have you listened to yourself? Have you looked at yourself? We've been tied up, naked, and God knows what they must have done to us, and you say it's not-"
"Frank... shut up," she said wearily. "Just shut up and listen to me. I don't think they did anything apart from tying us up. The one with my face even apologized 'for the inconvenience' when I was awake."
"Then what-"
"I guess they just needed to get us out of the way to infiltrate the camp."
The cogs began to turn in Frank's head, as Margaret's words began to make sense in his mind. "You mean... spies?"
"That's what I believe. We're the two most important people in the camp, Frank. We have the rank, the authority, and the connections."
"They'll open the 4077th to the Red Menace..." Frank speculated, but Margaret frowned.
"Not Communists, Frank. We're talking about aliens."
"Aliens? As in not from this planet?" Frank's eyes bulged. "Do you think there's going to be an invasion?"
Margaret nodded. "That's exactly what I think. They'll start small with Korea, then spread to America when our boys go home, and then to the rest of the world. They might use the other side the same way."
"B-b-but..." Frank spluttered. "But what can we do about it? We're... where are we?" He pushed himself up slightly and looked around, noticing that he had been lying on a metal slab, and that a second one was right next to it; in between, a strange machine pulsated, emanating the bluish glow he had noticed earlier. Apart from that, everything was rock and moss. "We're in a cave," he said with astonishment. Then he started to whimper. "We're in a cave - and we're naked! Oh, we're all doomed!"
"We've got to get out of here and reach the camp," Margaret said, determined.
"But how can we do that with no clothes on?"
Margaret lost her patience. "Oh, will you shut up about that, Frank? Let's worry about leaving this place first, and then think about that matter."
"But-" Frank was about to start, when Margaret interrupted him.
"It doesn't matter if we have to dress up in vines, provided that we're far away from this place as possible. Don't you agree?"
"But, pumpkin, I-"
"Don't you agree, Frank?" she insisted, with the grating tone of voice Frank knew so well. He swallowed.
"Yes, Mommy."
"Good, then get up. We've got to find our way out."
Frank did as ordered, and Margaret quickly rushed to what looked like the cave mouth to peek outside. There wasn't much light emanating from the entrance as they approached it, and Frank assumed it was now night.
"Not a soul," she said. "Nobody guarding us..." she felt the sides of the entrance, "and no alarms, or anything else."
"Must be a trap," Frank said, hanging back apprehensively. Oh, how he wished this was all a dream and he'd soon wake up in his bed, back in Indiana!
"Possibly," Margaret said, "but we should still try to escape." She grabbed his hand and forced him to follow her. "Come on."
***
In spite of its size, cut for a tall sixteen stone frame, the tweed jacket seemed almost weightless. Someone other than Jamie would have thought that the material was anything but wool and the pockets empty. However the young Highlander knew that they would be filled with the most varied and bizarre combination of objects, in the same "bigger on the inside" manner as the TARDIS and the Monk's pouch. Idle curiosity almost made him take a look inside, but his respect for the Doctor's privacy and the knowledge that he'd probably spend hours exploring made him decide against it. It was best to just grab the jacket, head back to the Post-Op ward, and wait for the Doctor to recover so she could tell him what she wanted from the pockets.
He pulled on the oversized jacket in order to free his hands for the task of covering the TARDIS with the tarpaulin. As he did this, a terrible thought suddenly occurred to him: what if the Doctor did not recover? He had no idea of what was necessary to deal with the Rutans and the Sontarans. He remembered that the Doctor said Chessene had dealt with the latter with some sort of acid, but he had no idea if it was the same sort he had seen Beta producing to destroy the Krotons, or how he himself could obtain it. And if he did manage to miraculously get rid of those beasties, the Doctor's condition would make it impossible for them to leave in the TARDIS afterwards.
The thought made him anxious. He had just been reunited with the Doctor, and the knowledge that the two of them would be able to continue to travel together through time and space had filled him with joy. All he needed was for Victoria to happily accept his invitation to travel in the TARDIS once again, and everything would be perfect.
Victoria... Jamie felt a pang in his heart. The Doctor had been in the process of taking him to see the lass when they received Radar's desperate message. It had been great to see Peri again, and he had been saddened when Zoe said she did not want to leave with them ("For now, anyway. I'm really enjoying my work at Torchwood, but who knows? I might change my mind one day."). However, of all the people he had met during his time aboard the TARDIS, it was Victoria whom he missed the most. From the moment the Doctor had promised to take him to the time period she was currently living in, his mind began to weave a million different outcomes from that visit - all of them culminating with the lass changing her mind about living a "quiet life" and deciding to travel with him and the Doctor once more.
He was so lost in these thoughts, he did not notice the presence of someone else in the supply tent with him until something hard hit the back of his head, rendering him unconscious.
Author: Me
Beta-Reader:
alouzonFandom: Doctor Who/M*A*S*H
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 2352
Disclaimer: Doctor Who and all its characters belong to the BBC; M*A*S*H and all its characters belong to Twentieth Century Fox. I own nothing - not even the Fourteenth Doctor.
Summary: The Doctor returns to a place he has visited in the past to stop some old enemies from recovering something that is best left forgotten.
Warning: Spoilers for Abyssinia, Henry/Welcome to Korea; this particular chapter also has spoilers for The Krotons and The Two Doctors.
Author's Notes: This chapter was rather difficult to write; nothing much happens in it, apart from naked!Frank - and I apologize profusely for its inclusion.
The journey back to the hospital was made in almost complete silence, broken only by the occasional sound of shelling echoing some miles away at the front line of battle. Captain Pierce led the way, Kim trying to stay as close as possible to him as if he were a shield; Jamie followed close behind, the Doctor lolling in his arms, and Hye brought up the rear, her bat held at the ready.
Everybody was on the alert, as if expecting the Rutans to show up and jump on them at any second. Jamie was no exception, but in spite of this he still managed to observe his companions during those minutes of marching. Now that he had the opportunity to study them covertly, he was finally able to notice the differences between the two girls. Both were wearing the same type of tent-like dress, with what looked like a small grey vest, both had long black hair that fell below the waist, tied in a ponytail by a piece of twine - and yet, in spite of their similar attire, they couldn't have looked more different. Kim had the round, cherubic face of an infant; she looked at everything with terror and apprehension, jumping at every sound. Hye, Jamie noticed, had larger eyes, more refined features, and while she also looked about, equally watchful, she didn't seem as terrified as her friend. If she was frightened, the lass hid it well.
It didn't take them long to reach the camp and enter what Captain Pierce had called the Post-Op ward: a large room filled with beds, where patients were placed after surgery for observation. Because of the evacuation, most of the beds stood empty and only a few patients remained; among them was a small boy about five years old, whom Jamie immediately identified as Kim's brother Haneul. His chest and head were bandaged and his right arm was set in a cast, but his face betrayed no pain or discomfort; instead, he looked like a peacefully sleeping angel.
"Haneul!" Kim cried, the moment she saw him. With a whimper, she flew to her brother's side, intent on giving him a hug, but Captain Pierce stopped her.
"Hey, hey, hey," he said, in a low voice. "Don't wake him. He's sleeping. That's good." He smiled at the girl. "You can hug him all you want the moment he wakes up, provided you don't tear any stitches. OK?"
With her hands still placed on the sleeping boy's shoulders, as if afraid that loss of contact would result in his death, the girl nodded. "Thanks, Hawkeye," she said in a whisper. The Captain gave her a reassuring smile before turning to Jamie.
"You can put the Major here," he said, pointing to the bed immediately next to Haneul's. Gently, the piper did as ordered, while Captain Hunnicutt approached them from the far end of the room.
"Hey, what's going on?" he asked, a frown of concern creasing his features.
"Major Smith here got electrocuted," the older Captain said, as Jamie brushed the rebellious fringe from the Doctor's eyes, in what was becoming an automatic gesture. "Don't ask me how, but she survived. We brought her here for some rest." He turned to Hye. "Listen, with the nurses gone and Ferret Face stashed God knows where, BJ and I will have our hands full. I hope we won't be long, but will you keep an eye on her in case her condition suddenly changes?"
Hye nodded. Jamie was surprised to see Captain Pierce act in such a professional, no-nonsense manner; given his prior behaviour, the young Scot had half expected Pierce to grope her under the guise of a medical examination the moment she arrived in Post-Op. The Captain must have sensed his surprise, adding, "As you can see, I'm mostly all business here. Now, I don't know what we can do for her, apart from waiting," he nodded towards the Doctor, "but she'll be in good hands while you're gone."
"Aye," Jamie said with a nod, "I can see that, right enough. I'll be going, then." He started to leave, but quickly turned back. "Oh, Captain?"
"Yes?" Captain Pierce was pulling his white coat over his filthy fatigues, and stopped at the sound of the Highlander calling him.
"Thank you." Jamie's usual truculent expression was briefly muted by a twist of his lips, in something that almost resembled a soft smile.
Captain Pierce grinned. "Just don't tell anyone about this. I have a reputation as an irresponsible creep to maintain." Nodding, Jamie turned and left the ward.
A Sunday lunch at home. Him, Louise and the kids, all in their best clothes and looking like a proper, Norman Rockwell, all-American family. Louise, gazing in near-sighted awe at her brave husband, who just returned from fighting the yellow hordes, hands him the mashed potatoes, as their youngest daughter asks Daddy to tell her more about how he was able to court-martial that big anti-American meanie Captain Pierce and save Korea from Communism. And then, Louise turns to him and asks, "Frank?"
"Yes, Mommy?" he replies.
"Frank, are you awake?" Her voice sounds softer, less nasal than usual.
"Awake? Of course I'm awake, Louise."
His wife's face contorts with anger. "Louise?!"
And then she smacks him.
The pain cleared Frank's mind, and Louise's dry, angular face was quickly replaced by Margaret's rounder, more attractive features, half-hidden in darkness, half-illuminated by an unearthly bluish glow.
"Wake up, you miserable..." she hissed.
"Margaret, you hit me!" he tried to touch his face, only to realize he couldn't raise his arm. "What's happening?"
"They tied us up," she said, as she glanced around with a worried expression. "I managed to release myself just now. Here, let me give you a hand."
"They? Who are they, Margaret?" Frank asked, as Margaret released his arms one at a time. He looked around, but all he could see were rocks all around them.
"I don't know," she said. "But one of them had my face," she added in an outraged tone, "so it must be those blobs again. Remember last year when that one impersonated that little girl?"
Frank felt a strange sensation on his chest. "Ooh, Margaret, that tickles!" he screeched with an ill-suppressed giggle.
"Shh, be quiet!" she hissed, as she looked around worriedly once more. "They might hear us!"
Frank opened his eyes again, and realized that the tickling sensation came from Margaret removing some small discs from his chest, which were attached with wires to something on the side of his bed (or whatever it was he was lying on). And then he noticed his chest. And the rest of himself.
"Margaret..." he said with a mortified whimper, "we're N-A-K-E-D!" He spelled the word in a nervous whisper, as if the mere sound of those five letters together were to somehow make him even more naked.
"Frank, you're wearing underwear," Margaret said with impatience, as if there were more important things than being caught with their pants down. Indeed, as Frank realized, both he and Margaret were wearing flesh-colored shorts (with the addition of a strapless bra, in Margaret's case) made of a substance he was unable to recognize but which had the same texture as rubber; this underwear seemed to be seamless and molded onto the skin.
"These aren't mine!" he shrieked with outrage. Someone dressing him up in something so tight when he wasn't conscious was almost as bad as leaving him naked. However, Margaret didn't seem to share his feelings, as she clearly rolled his eyes at his words as she removed the last disc from his body. "For heaven's sake, Frank, that's not important."
"Not... not important?!" Frank was shocked. Could this be the same Margaret Houlihan who fought so hard for decency and cleanliness, and who panicked at the thought of what the enemy could do to a helpless woman like herself? "Margaret, have you listened to yourself? Have you looked at yourself? We've been tied up, naked, and God knows what they must have done to us, and you say it's not-"
"Frank... shut up," she said wearily. "Just shut up and listen to me. I don't think they did anything apart from tying us up. The one with my face even apologized 'for the inconvenience' when I was awake."
"Then what-"
"I guess they just needed to get us out of the way to infiltrate the camp."
The cogs began to turn in Frank's head, as Margaret's words began to make sense in his mind. "You mean... spies?"
"That's what I believe. We're the two most important people in the camp, Frank. We have the rank, the authority, and the connections."
"They'll open the 4077th to the Red Menace..." Frank speculated, but Margaret frowned.
"Not Communists, Frank. We're talking about aliens."
"Aliens? As in not from this planet?" Frank's eyes bulged. "Do you think there's going to be an invasion?"
Margaret nodded. "That's exactly what I think. They'll start small with Korea, then spread to America when our boys go home, and then to the rest of the world. They might use the other side the same way."
"B-b-but..." Frank spluttered. "But what can we do about it? We're... where are we?" He pushed himself up slightly and looked around, noticing that he had been lying on a metal slab, and that a second one was right next to it; in between, a strange machine pulsated, emanating the bluish glow he had noticed earlier. Apart from that, everything was rock and moss. "We're in a cave," he said with astonishment. Then he started to whimper. "We're in a cave - and we're naked! Oh, we're all doomed!"
"We've got to get out of here and reach the camp," Margaret said, determined.
"But how can we do that with no clothes on?"
Margaret lost her patience. "Oh, will you shut up about that, Frank? Let's worry about leaving this place first, and then think about that matter."
"But-" Frank was about to start, when Margaret interrupted him.
"It doesn't matter if we have to dress up in vines, provided that we're far away from this place as possible. Don't you agree?"
"But, pumpkin, I-"
"Don't you agree, Frank?" she insisted, with the grating tone of voice Frank knew so well. He swallowed.
"Yes, Mommy."
"Good, then get up. We've got to find our way out."
Frank did as ordered, and Margaret quickly rushed to what looked like the cave mouth to peek outside. There wasn't much light emanating from the entrance as they approached it, and Frank assumed it was now night.
"Not a soul," she said. "Nobody guarding us..." she felt the sides of the entrance, "and no alarms, or anything else."
"Must be a trap," Frank said, hanging back apprehensively. Oh, how he wished this was all a dream and he'd soon wake up in his bed, back in Indiana!
"Possibly," Margaret said, "but we should still try to escape." She grabbed his hand and forced him to follow her. "Come on."
In spite of its size, cut for a tall sixteen stone frame, the tweed jacket seemed almost weightless. Someone other than Jamie would have thought that the material was anything but wool and the pockets empty. However the young Highlander knew that they would be filled with the most varied and bizarre combination of objects, in the same "bigger on the inside" manner as the TARDIS and the Monk's pouch. Idle curiosity almost made him take a look inside, but his respect for the Doctor's privacy and the knowledge that he'd probably spend hours exploring made him decide against it. It was best to just grab the jacket, head back to the Post-Op ward, and wait for the Doctor to recover so she could tell him what she wanted from the pockets.
He pulled on the oversized jacket in order to free his hands for the task of covering the TARDIS with the tarpaulin. As he did this, a terrible thought suddenly occurred to him: what if the Doctor did not recover? He had no idea of what was necessary to deal with the Rutans and the Sontarans. He remembered that the Doctor said Chessene had dealt with the latter with some sort of acid, but he had no idea if it was the same sort he had seen Beta producing to destroy the Krotons, or how he himself could obtain it. And if he did manage to miraculously get rid of those beasties, the Doctor's condition would make it impossible for them to leave in the TARDIS afterwards.
The thought made him anxious. He had just been reunited with the Doctor, and the knowledge that the two of them would be able to continue to travel together through time and space had filled him with joy. All he needed was for Victoria to happily accept his invitation to travel in the TARDIS once again, and everything would be perfect.
Victoria... Jamie felt a pang in his heart. The Doctor had been in the process of taking him to see the lass when they received Radar's desperate message. It had been great to see Peri again, and he had been saddened when Zoe said she did not want to leave with them ("For now, anyway. I'm really enjoying my work at Torchwood, but who knows? I might change my mind one day."). However, of all the people he had met during his time aboard the TARDIS, it was Victoria whom he missed the most. From the moment the Doctor had promised to take him to the time period she was currently living in, his mind began to weave a million different outcomes from that visit - all of them culminating with the lass changing her mind about living a "quiet life" and deciding to travel with him and the Doctor once more.
He was so lost in these thoughts, he did not notice the presence of someone else in the supply tent with him until something hard hit the back of his head, rendering him unconscious.
