Entry tags:
FIC: Jamie - Chapter 1
Title: Jamie - Chapter 1
Author: Me
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1327
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: This wasn't part of my original plan for the fic, but of course he had to meander in... Many thanks to![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
alouzon for beta-reading this.
Chapter 1
The heat is unbearable, and he feels smothered by the smell of the rotting corpses everywhere. The smell of death.
To avoid becoming one of those corpses, he hides in the engine room. He is strong, he will make it. However, the isolation and despair, the anguish and sense of guilt of watching him die without being able to act, soon take a toll on him. (Why did he obey him? Why did he run away when he told him to? He should have disobeyed, and they'd both be dead) He is reduced to something feral, savage. Soulless.
And then, he hears voices. The knights have discovered him. They must be stopped.
He jumps on the nearest one, overpowering it. So easy to snap its neck. That's what they deserve, for killing him. For killing both of them, since this is not living, but merely survival.
He turns the body over, in order to see the enemy's face. It's not one of the knights.
It's Victoria.
***
"No!" Jamie McCrimmon gasped, as his eyes opened.
Another nightmare, he thought, as he raised his hand to his damp forehead. He was drenched in sweat, as it always happened when he had one of those dreams. The nightmare he just woke from was a recurring one, though it always ended with him either being overpowered by the creature, or realizing it was a different girl: this was the first time he could remember Victoria as his victim in this particular nightmare. She appeared more and more often in his other dreams, together with yet another dark-haired girl, this one in varying stages of what could only be called undress, and the three people he had met in Culloden - Ben, Polly and the Doctor. The Doctor, particularly, seemed to be present in every dream, and on the rare occasions he didn't appear his absence was still felt, like that of a ghost.
Jamie could not explain why the man was such a strong presence in his mind all the time. After all, it had been two years since he had last seen him or his friends. Maybe it had to do with the fact that their departure was so hazy in his mind he just could not remember it. Or maybe it had something to do with the other two strangers he had met upon the battlefield. He had spent the last two years trying to make sense of it all, coming up with nothing but more questions.
***
It all began when he left the Annabelle with the Doctor and his friends. They managed to help the Redcoat, Ffinch, capture the solicitor who had sold him and his Laird as slaves, after which they departed once more in search of the Doctor's transportation. It was at this point that events became muddled and confusing. Suddenly, his new friends were gone, vanished, and he was alone in the middle of the glen, with a Redcoat shooting at him. Instinctively, he had turned on his assailant, who ran away like a terrified child. Eventually, he reached him and realized he was a child, after all - only a few years younger than himself, and frightened out of his wits. Although Jamie was still filled with anger (it was aimed more at something, or someone he could not identify, rather than at this kid), he felt pity for him, and lowered his sword. The moment the point of his weapon dropped, he felt a strong arm grab him from behind, and a knife blade touched his neck.
"Give me one good reason, Jacobite filth," a voice whispered in his ear, and a nauseating odour, like a mixture of raw meat, cheap wine and rotting teeth, filled his nostrils.
Jamie tried to struggle, but the blade was held closer to his skin. This other Redcoat was clearly the type of soldier who lusted for blood, and who voluntarily enlisted because war allowed him the opportunity to indulge in cruelty and murder without consequences.
"Sh-shouldn't we wait for Lieutenant Ffinch, sir?" the kid stammered, white as chalk.
"What Ffinch don't know won't hurt him, my boy. Besides," the blade pressed closer, breaking the skin, "we'll be doing him a favour."
With gritted teeth, Jamie closed his eyes. It was all over.
"This is quite unnecessary, don't you think?" a new voice interjected right beside them, and Jamie immediately felt the Redcoat's grip loosen marginally in surprise. He opened his eyes, and turned his head to see a grey-haired man dressed in red velvet, who seemed to be stroking the older Redcoat's neck. His attacker's arms suddenly went slack, before the soldier lost consciousness and fell to the ground.
"St-stay where you are!" the younger Redcoat shouted, pointing his bayonet at the two of them.
"My dear fellow," the grey-haired man said with a trace of amusement, "I saw you shoot that thing just now. It's unloaded."
The kid hesitated for a moment, but eventually assumed an unconvincing brave face and once more pointed his bayonet back at them, clearly unwilling to use the blade.
"N-no, i-it's not!"
"I guarantee you that-"
"Stick 'em up!" a new voice was then heard from behind the young man, who immediately blanched and fainted, letting out a whimper as he fell to the ground. His view unobstructed, Jamie could see that the person responsible for this new turn of events was a small, young girl, who brandished a twig as if it was a pistol. The grey-haired man turned to her, looking stern.
"'Stick 'em up?' Honestly, Jo..."
"It worked, didn't it?" She shook her head, and then turned her attention to Jamie, beaming. "You must be Jamie. I've heard so much about-"
Jamie took a step back. "Don't come any closer!"
The girl's face fell. "What's wrong?"
He shook his head, his eyes wide. "I don't know how you know my name, but-"
"Jamie, we're your friends!" she insisted.
"No, Jo," the grey-haired man said. "He's just had his memories erased. He's too confused at the moment."
"Och, I'm not confused," Jamie said defensively. "Just you stay away from me."
"But, Jamie," the girl took a step towards him, "it's the Doc-"
The words faded on her lips, as Jamie raised his claymore menacingly. Confusion, nervousness, and that unexplainable feeling of anger and frustration overcame him again. "I said keep away!"
The man quickly grabbed his wrist, disarming him. Jamie looked at his face, and was surprised to see tears in his eyes.
"I'm so sorry about this, Jamie," he said sadly.
Jamie felt the pressure of the man's fingers on the back of his neck, and everything went dark.
***
"Jamie... Jamie!"
Jamie felt a slap on his face. He opened his eyes, and saw Kirsty, who was looking at him with a concerned expression.
"What...?"
"Jamie, what's wrong?" the girl asked.
He tried to stand up, but felt too dizzy. "Where am I?"
"Aboard the Annabelle. Your friends just dropped you off."
"My friends?"
"Well, friends of the Doctor, they said." Kirsty frowned. "The lass dressed like a bairn, same as Polly. Maybe they are sisters."
Jamie finally managed to raise himself, but the rocking of the ship made this a difficult task. As soon as he managed to gain some balance, he asked, "Where are they?"
"They got back to their boat and are returning to shore. Just crazy, if you ask me."
He ran to the edge of the ship, to have a closer look. Sure enough, he could see a rowboat, in which the grey-haired man and the girl were sitting. The girl turned back to look at the ship, quickly noticed him, and started waving enthusiastically while nudging the man, who eventually paused from his rowing to wave as well.
Jamie turned to Kirsty.
"How?"
"That's what I hoped you could tell me. What happened to the Doctor and the others?"
Jamie struggled to find an answer, but eventually gave up. "I don't know."
Author: Me
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: PG-13
Word Count: 1327
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: This wasn't part of my original plan for the fic, but of course he had to meander in... Many thanks to
alouzon for beta-reading this.The heat is unbearable, and he feels smothered by the smell of the rotting corpses everywhere. The smell of death.
To avoid becoming one of those corpses, he hides in the engine room. He is strong, he will make it. However, the isolation and despair, the anguish and sense of guilt of watching him die without being able to act, soon take a toll on him. (Why did he obey him? Why did he run away when he told him to? He should have disobeyed, and they'd both be dead) He is reduced to something feral, savage. Soulless.
And then, he hears voices. The knights have discovered him. They must be stopped.
He jumps on the nearest one, overpowering it. So easy to snap its neck. That's what they deserve, for killing him. For killing both of them, since this is not living, but merely survival.
He turns the body over, in order to see the enemy's face. It's not one of the knights.
It's Victoria.
"No!" Jamie McCrimmon gasped, as his eyes opened.
Another nightmare, he thought, as he raised his hand to his damp forehead. He was drenched in sweat, as it always happened when he had one of those dreams. The nightmare he just woke from was a recurring one, though it always ended with him either being overpowered by the creature, or realizing it was a different girl: this was the first time he could remember Victoria as his victim in this particular nightmare. She appeared more and more often in his other dreams, together with yet another dark-haired girl, this one in varying stages of what could only be called undress, and the three people he had met in Culloden - Ben, Polly and the Doctor. The Doctor, particularly, seemed to be present in every dream, and on the rare occasions he didn't appear his absence was still felt, like that of a ghost.
Jamie could not explain why the man was such a strong presence in his mind all the time. After all, it had been two years since he had last seen him or his friends. Maybe it had to do with the fact that their departure was so hazy in his mind he just could not remember it. Or maybe it had something to do with the other two strangers he had met upon the battlefield. He had spent the last two years trying to make sense of it all, coming up with nothing but more questions.
It all began when he left the Annabelle with the Doctor and his friends. They managed to help the Redcoat, Ffinch, capture the solicitor who had sold him and his Laird as slaves, after which they departed once more in search of the Doctor's transportation. It was at this point that events became muddled and confusing. Suddenly, his new friends were gone, vanished, and he was alone in the middle of the glen, with a Redcoat shooting at him. Instinctively, he had turned on his assailant, who ran away like a terrified child. Eventually, he reached him and realized he was a child, after all - only a few years younger than himself, and frightened out of his wits. Although Jamie was still filled with anger (it was aimed more at something, or someone he could not identify, rather than at this kid), he felt pity for him, and lowered his sword. The moment the point of his weapon dropped, he felt a strong arm grab him from behind, and a knife blade touched his neck.
"Give me one good reason, Jacobite filth," a voice whispered in his ear, and a nauseating odour, like a mixture of raw meat, cheap wine and rotting teeth, filled his nostrils.
Jamie tried to struggle, but the blade was held closer to his skin. This other Redcoat was clearly the type of soldier who lusted for blood, and who voluntarily enlisted because war allowed him the opportunity to indulge in cruelty and murder without consequences.
"Sh-shouldn't we wait for Lieutenant Ffinch, sir?" the kid stammered, white as chalk.
"What Ffinch don't know won't hurt him, my boy. Besides," the blade pressed closer, breaking the skin, "we'll be doing him a favour."
With gritted teeth, Jamie closed his eyes. It was all over.
"This is quite unnecessary, don't you think?" a new voice interjected right beside them, and Jamie immediately felt the Redcoat's grip loosen marginally in surprise. He opened his eyes, and turned his head to see a grey-haired man dressed in red velvet, who seemed to be stroking the older Redcoat's neck. His attacker's arms suddenly went slack, before the soldier lost consciousness and fell to the ground.
"St-stay where you are!" the younger Redcoat shouted, pointing his bayonet at the two of them.
"My dear fellow," the grey-haired man said with a trace of amusement, "I saw you shoot that thing just now. It's unloaded."
The kid hesitated for a moment, but eventually assumed an unconvincing brave face and once more pointed his bayonet back at them, clearly unwilling to use the blade.
"N-no, i-it's not!"
"I guarantee you that-"
"Stick 'em up!" a new voice was then heard from behind the young man, who immediately blanched and fainted, letting out a whimper as he fell to the ground. His view unobstructed, Jamie could see that the person responsible for this new turn of events was a small, young girl, who brandished a twig as if it was a pistol. The grey-haired man turned to her, looking stern.
"'Stick 'em up?' Honestly, Jo..."
"It worked, didn't it?" She shook her head, and then turned her attention to Jamie, beaming. "You must be Jamie. I've heard so much about-"
Jamie took a step back. "Don't come any closer!"
The girl's face fell. "What's wrong?"
He shook his head, his eyes wide. "I don't know how you know my name, but-"
"Jamie, we're your friends!" she insisted.
"No, Jo," the grey-haired man said. "He's just had his memories erased. He's too confused at the moment."
"Och, I'm not confused," Jamie said defensively. "Just you stay away from me."
"But, Jamie," the girl took a step towards him, "it's the Doc-"
The words faded on her lips, as Jamie raised his claymore menacingly. Confusion, nervousness, and that unexplainable feeling of anger and frustration overcame him again. "I said keep away!"
The man quickly grabbed his wrist, disarming him. Jamie looked at his face, and was surprised to see tears in his eyes.
"I'm so sorry about this, Jamie," he said sadly.
Jamie felt the pressure of the man's fingers on the back of his neck, and everything went dark.
"Jamie... Jamie!"
Jamie felt a slap on his face. He opened his eyes, and saw Kirsty, who was looking at him with a concerned expression.
"What...?"
"Jamie, what's wrong?" the girl asked.
He tried to stand up, but felt too dizzy. "Where am I?"
"Aboard the Annabelle. Your friends just dropped you off."
"My friends?"
"Well, friends of the Doctor, they said." Kirsty frowned. "The lass dressed like a bairn, same as Polly. Maybe they are sisters."
Jamie finally managed to raise himself, but the rocking of the ship made this a difficult task. As soon as he managed to gain some balance, he asked, "Where are they?"
"They got back to their boat and are returning to shore. Just crazy, if you ask me."
He ran to the edge of the ship, to have a closer look. Sure enough, he could see a rowboat, in which the grey-haired man and the girl were sitting. The girl turned back to look at the ship, quickly noticed him, and started waving enthusiastically while nudging the man, who eventually paused from his rowing to wave as well.
Jamie turned to Kirsty.
"How?"
"That's what I hoped you could tell me. What happened to the Doctor and the others?"
Jamie struggled to find an answer, but eventually gave up. "I don't know."