Post by cupofenglishtea on Feb 29, 2012 3:57:11 GMT
There You'll Be
Author's Notes: I can't promise that this story will be regularly updated as I have a lot on my plate at the moment, but I intend to finish.
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That dream again.
The Doctor's eyes fluttered open as he realized he had (once again!) fallen asleep at one of the tables in the lab. He lifted a hand and was mildly startled by a small ping! as a tiny gear from his latest project hit the table. Turning his wrist over, he inspected the small imprint where the tiny piece had stuck to his skin.
“Doctor! You're awake! How are you feeling?” It was Jo carrying a tray with a pot of tea, two cups, and some sandwiches.
“A bit better, my dear, thank you.” It was true; he was feeling a bit better in comparison to the last two days. The Doctor straightened up, and a standard army-issue wool blanket slid off his shoulders to land in a crumpled heap on the laboratory floor.
“Oh.” Jo set down the tray and picked up the blanket. “I had Sargent Benton bring it down after you fell asleep. You won't get over your cold if you don't keep warm.” She gave him a cheerful smile. “I brought you some lunch, you should eat something.”
The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. He didn't much enjoy being fussed over, but he did appreciate Jo's concern. He really had been feeling dreadful, and she had been there for him all the while, so he smiled appreciatively as she poured him a cup of tea.
“Sugar?” she asked.
“Two, please,” he managed to say before deftly pulling out an olive handkerchief to stifle a violent sneeze.
“Bless you, Doctor!” Jo insisted, looking at him as if he were a half-drowned kitten.
“Still under the weather, Doc?” Sargent Benton strode into the room looking sympathetic as the Doctor blew his nose.
“He says he's feeling a bit better,” Jo piped up helpfully.
The Doctor frowned impatiently. “Lethbridge-Stewart send you down to check on me, did he?”
Benton grinned. “Actually, I overheard him telling Captain Yates to come down to check on you, the Captain turned right around and sent me. Reckon he's afraid of catching it.”
The Doctor shook his head. “We've been over this. Humans and Time Lords aren't closely enough related to share illnesses. Gallifreyan viruses evolved alongside Gallifreyans just like Earth viruses evolved alongside earthlings here, but they're incomparable. I can't catch your colds, and you can't catch Gallifreyan colds.”
“But, Doctor,” Jo piped up again, “how did you catch a cold? You haven't been near the Time Lords.”
“The Master.” Benton stated simply.
The Doctor rubbed his nose. “Yes, I thought he wasn't looking quite well last time we saw him. If he hadn't given it to me, I'd have felt sorry for the poor chap, but as it is...” He trailed off, reaching for his handkerchief. “Ah-CHOO!”
Now it was the Brigadier's turn to stride into the room uninvited. “Bless you, Doctor,” he said politely.
Frustrated, the Doctor stood up and shoved the handkerchief back into his coat pocket. “Good grief! Haven't you lot all got something better to do than watch me blow my nose?”
The Brigadier allowed an eyebrow to meet up with his hairline as his thin mustache curled into a restrained smile. The Doctor was snapping at him; a good sign. “Actually, Doctor, things seem to be rather quiet lately.” Lethbridge-Stewart rocked back on his heels holding his hands comfortably behind his back. “Apart from your sneezing, that is.” His smile grew less restrained.
The Doctor ruffled, indignant as a peacock, which got an amused smile from Jo while Sargent Benton tried not to laugh.“How very base, Brigadier! You know I can't... c-can't help-!” The Doctor rubbed his nose in aggravation. “Oh! Ah-CHOO!” He sneezed again, earning him another “Bless you!” from his colleagues. He glared at the Brigadier from behind his handkerchief.
To his abasement, Jo draped the wool blanket over his shoulders. “Look, I have rather a lot of work to do, and I don't need a bunch of tin soldiers mucking about, so if you could kindly leave, I'd most appreciate it.”
The Brigadier, satisfied that the Doctor was making progress with his health, turned on his heel, “Come along, Benton. Take care, Doctor; do get some rest.” He nodded to Jo. “Look after him. Ms. Grant.” She nodded, and the two army men left the lab.
As soon as they had gone, the Doctor sank back into his chair, nursing his bruised ego. Taking a sip of his tea, he noticed Jo looking at him with concern. He smiled kindly, “Don't worry, my dear. I am recovering. I'm still just a little worn out, is all.
The concern didn't leave Jo's face; she bit her lip. “It's just... Well...”
“What is it, my dear?”
Jo sighed, “I've just never seen you look so tired.”
“Oh, honestly, Jo, you worry too much!” The Doctor took one of the sandwiches from the tea tray, stopping midway.
Jo frowned. “What is it, Doctor? Oh! I'd wondered where that had gotten to.” She carefully pulled a newspaper out from under the plate of sandwiches.
The Doctor stood up suddenly, coming around to Jo's side of the table. “Jo, how long have you had that newspaper?”
“What do you mean? It's today's paper.”
“Adelaide Redbarrow,” the Doctor whispered, lightly touching a black and white photograph of a child.
“Yes, it says here she was reported missing yesterday- Doctor, where are you going?”
The Doctor was hastily throwing on his driving coat and cape. “Jo, you don't understand! I saw her!”
Jo looked bewildered. “You've met her?”
“No!” The Doctor buttoned his coat impatiently. “I dreamed about her!”
“But you couldn't possibly have-!”
“Jo!” The Doctor put his hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eye. “I know.” He turned on his heel and hurried out of the lab.
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Author's Notes: Just a small update to keep you guys going.
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“Doctor, what on Earth are you doing?” the Brigadier snapped indignantly as the Doctor rushed past him, nearly knocking him over. “Where are you going, man?”
“Infirmary!” the Doctor called without missing a beat.
“Infirmary?” Lethbridge-Stewart cocked an eyebrow and took off after his scientific advisor, “But I thought you were feeling better!”
“He's worse, Brigadier!” Jo replied urgently as she caught up to him. “He thinks he's looking for that missing girl”
The Brigadier looked even more bewildered. “What missing girl?” Jo held up the newspaper as they both jogged down the hall. “What? That missing girl? Why ever should he think he's looking for her?”
“He said something about a dream,”
“Must've realized he's taken a turn for the worse. Gone to admit himself, poor chap,” the Brigadier reasoned as he and Jo came through the doors of the infirmary.”
“My dear Brigadier, I most certainly have NOT taken a turn for the worse!” To Jo and the Brigadier's astonishment, they found the Doctor rifling through cabinets and drawers of the sick bay supply room.
“What are you looking for, Doctor?” Jo asked uneasily.
“A thermometer, my dear. I've misplaced mine, and I had thought it would be easier to find one here, but there doesn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to this lot. Anyway, if I've still got a lingering fever, that could explain a few things.
“Let me see, Doctor,” Jo placed the back of her hand to the Doctor's forehead. He sighed and indulgently stood still until Jo pulled her hand away and gasped in alarm. “Doctor! You can't possibly have a fever; you're ice cold!”
“Fifteen point six degrees Celsius is far from 'ice cold', Jo,” the Doctor opened another cabinet, “That's the average normal temperature for a Gallifreyan. Aha! Here we are, at last!” Taking the thermometer out of its case, he shook it down (like a true MD, the Brigadier mused) and placed it in his mouth.
The Brigadier sighed impatiently when the Doctor finally pulled out the thermometer and studied it carefully. “Well?”
The Doctor swabbed the end with a disinfectant and placed the thermometer back in its case. “Slight fever, Brigadier,” he announced. “Just as well; I never did like coincidences. Come along, Jo.”
“Now where are you off to?” asked the Brigadier with the air of one long suffering as he followed the Doctor out of the infirmary.
“To get some rest?” Jo provided hopefully.
The Doctor frowned. “Don't be silly, Jo. We've got to find that girl!”
Lethbridge-Stewart rolled his eyes. “Good Lord, here we go again!”
“Doctor, you just proved yourself that you're still not well,” Jo pointed out.
“I'm well enough!” The Doctor stopped in his tracks, squeezing his eyes shut. He ducked into his sleeve and sneezed twice.
“Besides, this is a top secret military establishment with the only purpose of investigating strange goings on. How does a missing child have anything to do with us?”
The Doctor wiped his nose and frowned at his colleague. “My dear Lethbridge-Stewart, I should have thought that was perfectly obvious."
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The Brigadier massaged his temples in frustration. “Doctor, I still don't understand what you're talking about.”
The Doctor sighed and glanced at Jo, who confirmed her own incomprehension with a small nod. “All right, then, from the top,” he said patiently. “My kind are slightly telepathic. Well, much more telepathic than humans.”
“You mean you could read my mind?” Jo asked in amazement.
The Doctor smiled. “No. Well, not easily, anyway. Humans are somewhat telepathic, but usually mostly by accident. What little ability you have as children, you often come to shield as adults.” He rested his elbows on the lab table. “It's a similar situation for my kind, only less pronounced. We learn to control the ability with a sort of 'psychic shielding', if you will. But it tends to break down when one is unconscious or weak.”
“That is all very well, Doctor, but I still don't understand where this girl comes in.” The Brigadier leaned on the lab table irritably.
“I made a psychic link with her, so to speak.” the Doctor stated simply.
Jo frowned. “But I thought you said you couldn't read human minds.”
The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, as I said, children have higher psychic ability than adults, and I haven't exactly been...” he cleared his throat, “well...”
Jo's eyes brightened. “Of course! That's why you saw her in your sleep!”
“So, you're telling me that you saw where that girl is?” The Brigadier paced away from the table.
“Well, not exactly, Brigadier.” The Doctor stood up and started toward the door of the lab.
The Brigadier raised his eyebrows. “Well, then how in blazes do you plan to find her?”
Pausing a moment, the Doctor looked over his shoulder. “I'm afraid that's a little more difficult to explain. You'll just have to trust me.” His eyes shifted to his assistant. “Coming, Jo?”
The Brigadier watched the pair leave the laboratory, shaking his head. If the Doctor wanted to play bloodhound, fine. As long as there was nothing else that required his attention, of course. He had to admit that the Doctor usually knew what he was doing, and although it wasn't his concern officially, the Brigadier couldn't help but feel sympathy for the family missing a child. If the Doctor could bring the poor girl home...
Lethbridge-Stewart glanced at the old police box in the corner of the lab and sighed. “Good luck, Doctor.”
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“How?"
The Doctor raised his eyebrows as he helped Jo into the yellow roadster. “How what?”
Jo waited until he climbed into the driver's seat before elaborating, “How are you going to find her?”
“Well, as I said, it's difficult to explain.”
“But you would try unless...” She gave him a stern look, “You don't know, do you!”
The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “That isn't entirely true, Jo. I know that I can do it, but as to how, well, I don't quite understand it myself.” He turned and pointed off into the distance. “As the crow flies...” He put Bessie into gear and maneuvered out of the car park.
“But how can you be so sure without knowing how?” Jo was not about to let the subject drop. The Doctor certainly hadn't been himself lately, and she wasn't all together sure that he was thinking clearly.
She almost wished she hadn't asked as she saw the Doctor slip into lecture mode. “I have a theory, but it doesn't quite check out. Being mildly telepathic myself, I am able to follow psychic impulses through either intense concentration or lowered psychic defenses.” He glanced at Jo, who blinked uncomprehendingly. “I have to be trying really hard, or I have to have my psychic defenses weakened through illness or fatigue,” he tried to clarify.
“It's easier because you're sick, right?”
“Top of the class, Jo. And like most forms of communication, it should get easier to follow the closer we get.”
“So what doesn't check out?” Jo asked.
“It's too strong. The psychic impulse, I mean.”
“But you said-”
“I know what I said, Jo. It's possible that this girl is just unusual, but...”
“But you think she might be an alien,” Jo concluded. “But why didn't you tell the Brigadier? He might've listened to you if you'd explained.”
The Doctor snorted, “And what? Have him charge in, guns blazing?” Jo felt him lean harder on the gas pedal. “If this is just a missing child, the poor girl would be traumatized for life!”
Jo shook her head, “Now, really, Doctor. You don't honestly think the Brigadier would pull a gun on a six year old girl, do you?”
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The two rode in silence for nearly an hour before the Doctor suddenly pulled Bessie over into the gravel driveway of a field.
“You think she's out there?” Jo asked doubtfully.
“Nope,” the Doctor replied matter-of-factually pointing to the adjacent woods. “She's in there. We'll have to walk from here.” He reached into the seat behind him and pulled out an army pack. “Food, water, and that blanket,” he explained slinging it over his shoulder. “She likely hasn't had anything to eat or drink, and while it has been mild for January, it's far from warm. She's spent the night outside.”
Jo trotted to catch up to him as he strode purposefully through the trees. “I hadn't even thought about that! What if she didn't make it through the night!”
The Doctor put a comforting hand on her shoulder, “Not to worry, my dear. If she's not alive, then what am I following?” He smiled as he felt her relax somewhat. “I think it'll be a bit of a walk yet.”
He passed the time by pointing out trees and shrubs while Jo tried her best to look interested. Halfway through a lecture on the silver birch, the Doctor turned to her. “We're very close. She could probably hear us if we called for her.”
Jo was apprehensive. If they were close enough to be heard, but she didn't answer, what would that mean?
“Ah-CHOO!”
“What was that?”
“That was me!”
Jo shook her head frantically, “No, not you! Listen!”
The Doctor could hear it, too. A rusting in the bushes accompanied by a low growl. It was coming closer. He stepped in front of Jo, instinctively shielding her from whatever creature was lurking in the shrubbery.
“Chaaaaaaaarrllieeeeee!”
Upon hearing its name, the beast raised its head, turning toward the summons. It was a large dog! A mutt, it seemed, to the Doctor. A very handsome one, at that! It had the slim face of a golden retriever and the short hair of a yellow Labrador. The dog gave the Doctor and Jo one last look before sprinting off with a wave of its bushy tail.
“That must be her dog,” the Doctor reasoned. “Come on, Jo!”
They gave chase.
It wasn't far. The Doctor and Jo soon stumbled into a relative clearing where they were met once again with the growling Charlie. The Doctor noted that although his hair was mostly short, the dog had a line of longer hair that lead from the neck down to the tail which was standing on end like an absurd mo-hawk.
“Charlie, it's okay. He's a friend,”
As though understanding this new information through complete comprehension of English, the dog changed at once. No longer the menacing figure with his hair standing up, Charlie gave the Doctor a quick lick on the hand and an apologetic glance with his large brown eyes before looking at the ground submissively.
“Good boy,” the Doctor scratched the dog behind the ears as he peered beyond him and saw a small figure curled up next to a tree. A silver birch, he noted, before impatiently waving away the unimportant information. She was wearing a purple knit coat that reached her knees over a blue checkered sundress that went just past her knees. A pair of scuffed, black, rubber rain boots nearly met the hem of her skirt.
Charlie pranced over to the girl and licked her face before curling up next to her. She in turn buried her face in his fur, her mid-length golden hair nearly blending into his coat.
“Adelaide?” Now that the dog would permit it, the Doctor knelt down beside her and took her hand. Her fingers were red from the cold, but she seemed all right. “I'm the Doctor, and this is Jo. We're not going to hurt you; we've come to find you.”
Adelaide looked up with tired blue eyes. Her skin was light, and she had a pattern of freckles across her nose. “I know. You said you would come and find me.” She smiled as though letting him in on a secret, “I know it's you because I recognize your hum.”
The Doctor was taken aback by the peculiar statement, but set his inquiries aside for a better time. Instead, he pulled out a bottle of water and the army blanket from the pack. “Drink this, my dear,” he coaxed as he wrapped the blanket around her. “Now let's get you out of here.”
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She was only a little more than three feet tall and weighed roughly forty pounds, so the Doctor had no trouble carrying her cradled in his arms. Charlie whined slightly as he picked her up
“It's all right, Charlie. Thank you. You kept me safe.”
Jo got the feeling that this was something Adelaide often said to Charlie to reassure him that he had done a good job. While she had been frightened of him initially, she now found him to be very sweet. “You kept her warm, didn't you, boy,” Jo patted him on the head as they followed the Doctor through the woods.
The Doctor looked over his shoulder at them and smiled, “Yes, you're very lucky to have such a devoted dog; he may well have saved your life!”
“He's my best friend,” Adelaide murmured, taking a drink of water. “I think he's thirsty, too.”
“Don't worry, we passed a spring on the way here, didn't we, Doctor?” Jo chimed in.
He nodded. “It's coming up soon. We'll take a break there where he can get a drink.”
As promised, the group soon came to a small spring where clear, cool water gurgled along like a tiny river in its own miniature channel.
“Here we are,” the Doctor announced. Charlie pricked up his ears at the sound of trickling water and bounded forward to gratefully lap it up. The Doctor set Adelaide down on her feet next to her thirsty companion and took one of her hands. “You seem warmer, anyway. How do you feel?”
The small girl looked bashful, “A little hungry,” she confessed.
The Doctor furrowed his brow, “Oh, of course. How thoughtless of me. Jo?” Jo brought the traveling bag over and handed it to him. “We have some granola bars for now. We'll get you something proper to eat once we get back.”
She took the granola bar that he offered, “Does it have chocolate in it?” she asked as she struggled with the package.
The Doctor held out his hand in an offer to open it for her, “No, it's peanut butter. Is that all right?” he asked as he broke the seal.
“That's perfect,” she assured him. Taking back the now unwrapped bar, she divided it in half and gave one portion to Charlie. “Dad says chocolate's not good for dogs,” she explained, patting her friend on the head as he gobbled down the ration.
The Doctor opened another bar and gave it to Adelaide. “You don't have to do that; there are plenty.” He turned to his assistant, “Would you like one, Jo?”
Jo accepted a bar and sat down next to Adelaide, who was finishing her second bar. Charlie came over and put his head in Jo's lap. “Hello, Charlie,” she grinned brightly, but the dog merely shifted his head slightly and gave a small whine. Adelaide clicked her tongue three times and Charlie perked up his ears and trotted happily to his small companion.
“Can you sit?” The dog happily complied as Adelaide carefully placed the last piece of her granola bar on the end of his nose. “Wait for it...” Charlie stood perfectly still, staring intently at his treat until... “Get it!” In one deft movement, he tipped his head and caught the bit of granola in his mouth. “Good boy!”
The Doctor chuckled while Jo clapped her hands. “That's pretty good!”
“Does he know any more tricks, Addie- er, Adelaide?” Jo looked sheepish, “Sorry.”
“I like the nickname 'Addie',” the Doctor mused aloud, stretching out his long legs and lounging against a large rock as he absentmindedly whittled the bark off a discarded twig. “Do you mind if we call you 'Addie'?”
The child tilted her head as if to consider the proposition. “Yes, okay. You can call me 'Addie'.” She scratched Charlie behind the ears. “He does lot's of tricks if I ask him to. He sits, lays down, stays, fetches, stands up... uh...”
“Rolls over?” the Doctor prompted.
Addie shook her head, “Nope. He doesn't want to do that one.”
Jo smiled, “Oh, that's okay. I'm sure you can teach him eventually.”
Addie's demeanor suddenly changed. Her shoulders seemed to droop, and she clutched at Charlie's fur.
“No, I can't.”
Her voice wavered as her lower lip trembled. Charlie whimpered sympathetically as a tear slid down her cheek.
The Doctor looked up from his twig, frowning in concern.
“Why not?” Jo asked, bewildered by the sudden depression. She reached out and placed her hand on the child's shoulder comfortingly. “What's wrong?”
“Charlie,” she whimpered, her voice strained as she tried not to sob outright. “When we get home, they're gonna take Charlie away.”
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Author's Notes: I might revise this one as I think the way Addie presents the problem feels a bit awkward. In truth, I really don't have the time to write this, but I'm doing it anyway. (Funny how that works, innit?)
Enjoy, and let me know what you think.
CAUTION: The Doctor gets very sweet in this one!
“But why will they take Charlie away?” Jo tried to make her voice gentle, the way primary school teachers spoke to their young students.
Addie had taken to clinging to Charlie as though afraid he might suddenly disappear. She wouldn't look at Jo or the Doctor and was trying, unsuccessfully, to hide her tears. Without preamble, she began to explain.
“Grandpa told my mum and dad that it's not good for me to spend all my time with a dog and not make friends with kids my own age.” She took a shuddering breath. “He said that if they took Charlie away, then I would have to make friends.”
Jo frowned; that didn't seem entirely reasonable.
“Mum and Dad are really worried that I'm not friends with any of the kids at school. James says it's 'cause there's something wrong with me.”
“James?” the Doctor inquired.
“He's my brother." Her voice began to break. "He must be right 'cause they keep taking me to doctors who try to make me better, but it doesn't help.” Addie stroked Charlie's fur, an activity that seemed to calm her. “I know that they just want to help me. Sometimes... Sometimes when James is playing with his friends, and Mum sees me by myself, I feel her get really sad.”
The Doctor leaned forward intently, “You feel her sadness?”
“What does it feel like?” Jo asked. The Doctor cringed inwardly. Of course, he was wondering the same thing, but he was also acutely aware of the emotional stress such a question was putting on the already exhausted child. Just as he'd feared, the poor girl buried her head in her hands, visibly trembling.
He cleared his throat uncomfortably, “We... We're losing daylight; we had best be going.” He tossed his twig aside only to have it dutifully retrieved by the eager mutt. The Doctor smiled despite himself, but it was short-lived as Addie's mood didn't improve. He sighed. If there was one thing that would always tug at his hearts, it was crying children.
The Doctor gave Jo a meaningful look, handing her the twig and tilting his head toward an attentive Charlie. She nodded in understanding, “Come on, Charlie, fetch!”
As Jo went off to entertain their furry charge, the Doctor knelt down next to Addie. He waited patiently for the child to take her head out of her hands before coughing politely to catch her attention. She started a bit, apparently having forgotten she was not alone. Sniffling slightly, she met his eyes for a moment before glancing back down at her boots.
“I'm sorry.” She sniffled again.
“You've nothing to be sorry for.”
Addie responded with another sniffle. The Doctor shook his head, “Oh, dear. That won't do at all.” She glanced at him apprehensively, unsure of what he meant. “Have you got a hanky?” he asked her gently.
“I...”
He smiled lightly, “Not to worry, my dear. I've got a spare you can have.” The Doctor made a show of checking his pockets. “Now where did I...” He paused theatrically, “Ah, yes, now I remember.” Leaning over, he reached behind her ear and pulled out a blue linen handkerchief. “Silly place to leave it, I suppose.”
Addie giggled as the Doctor presented her with the handkerchief. “There, now, that's yours. Dry your eyes; blow your nose. There's a good girl.” She complied, and the Doctor stood up to stretch his legs.
After shoving the handkerchief into her coat pocket, Addie stood up as well. The Doctor beamed down at her, offering his hand, “Let's get going, shall we?”
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What do you think so far? Let me know!
Author's Notes: I can't promise that this story will be regularly updated as I have a lot on my plate at the moment, but I intend to finish.
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That dream again.
The Doctor's eyes fluttered open as he realized he had (once again!) fallen asleep at one of the tables in the lab. He lifted a hand and was mildly startled by a small ping! as a tiny gear from his latest project hit the table. Turning his wrist over, he inspected the small imprint where the tiny piece had stuck to his skin.
“Doctor! You're awake! How are you feeling?” It was Jo carrying a tray with a pot of tea, two cups, and some sandwiches.
“A bit better, my dear, thank you.” It was true; he was feeling a bit better in comparison to the last two days. The Doctor straightened up, and a standard army-issue wool blanket slid off his shoulders to land in a crumpled heap on the laboratory floor.
“Oh.” Jo set down the tray and picked up the blanket. “I had Sargent Benton bring it down after you fell asleep. You won't get over your cold if you don't keep warm.” She gave him a cheerful smile. “I brought you some lunch, you should eat something.”
The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. He didn't much enjoy being fussed over, but he did appreciate Jo's concern. He really had been feeling dreadful, and she had been there for him all the while, so he smiled appreciatively as she poured him a cup of tea.
“Sugar?” she asked.
“Two, please,” he managed to say before deftly pulling out an olive handkerchief to stifle a violent sneeze.
“Bless you, Doctor!” Jo insisted, looking at him as if he were a half-drowned kitten.
“Still under the weather, Doc?” Sargent Benton strode into the room looking sympathetic as the Doctor blew his nose.
“He says he's feeling a bit better,” Jo piped up helpfully.
The Doctor frowned impatiently. “Lethbridge-Stewart send you down to check on me, did he?”
Benton grinned. “Actually, I overheard him telling Captain Yates to come down to check on you, the Captain turned right around and sent me. Reckon he's afraid of catching it.”
The Doctor shook his head. “We've been over this. Humans and Time Lords aren't closely enough related to share illnesses. Gallifreyan viruses evolved alongside Gallifreyans just like Earth viruses evolved alongside earthlings here, but they're incomparable. I can't catch your colds, and you can't catch Gallifreyan colds.”
“But, Doctor,” Jo piped up again, “how did you catch a cold? You haven't been near the Time Lords.”
“The Master.” Benton stated simply.
The Doctor rubbed his nose. “Yes, I thought he wasn't looking quite well last time we saw him. If he hadn't given it to me, I'd have felt sorry for the poor chap, but as it is...” He trailed off, reaching for his handkerchief. “Ah-CHOO!”
Now it was the Brigadier's turn to stride into the room uninvited. “Bless you, Doctor,” he said politely.
Frustrated, the Doctor stood up and shoved the handkerchief back into his coat pocket. “Good grief! Haven't you lot all got something better to do than watch me blow my nose?”
The Brigadier allowed an eyebrow to meet up with his hairline as his thin mustache curled into a restrained smile. The Doctor was snapping at him; a good sign. “Actually, Doctor, things seem to be rather quiet lately.” Lethbridge-Stewart rocked back on his heels holding his hands comfortably behind his back. “Apart from your sneezing, that is.” His smile grew less restrained.
The Doctor ruffled, indignant as a peacock, which got an amused smile from Jo while Sargent Benton tried not to laugh.“How very base, Brigadier! You know I can't... c-can't help-!” The Doctor rubbed his nose in aggravation. “Oh! Ah-CHOO!” He sneezed again, earning him another “Bless you!” from his colleagues. He glared at the Brigadier from behind his handkerchief.
To his abasement, Jo draped the wool blanket over his shoulders. “Look, I have rather a lot of work to do, and I don't need a bunch of tin soldiers mucking about, so if you could kindly leave, I'd most appreciate it.”
The Brigadier, satisfied that the Doctor was making progress with his health, turned on his heel, “Come along, Benton. Take care, Doctor; do get some rest.” He nodded to Jo. “Look after him. Ms. Grant.” She nodded, and the two army men left the lab.
As soon as they had gone, the Doctor sank back into his chair, nursing his bruised ego. Taking a sip of his tea, he noticed Jo looking at him with concern. He smiled kindly, “Don't worry, my dear. I am recovering. I'm still just a little worn out, is all.
The concern didn't leave Jo's face; she bit her lip. “It's just... Well...”
“What is it, my dear?”
Jo sighed, “I've just never seen you look so tired.”
“Oh, honestly, Jo, you worry too much!” The Doctor took one of the sandwiches from the tea tray, stopping midway.
Jo frowned. “What is it, Doctor? Oh! I'd wondered where that had gotten to.” She carefully pulled a newspaper out from under the plate of sandwiches.
The Doctor stood up suddenly, coming around to Jo's side of the table. “Jo, how long have you had that newspaper?”
“What do you mean? It's today's paper.”
“Adelaide Redbarrow,” the Doctor whispered, lightly touching a black and white photograph of a child.
“Yes, it says here she was reported missing yesterday- Doctor, where are you going?”
The Doctor was hastily throwing on his driving coat and cape. “Jo, you don't understand! I saw her!”
Jo looked bewildered. “You've met her?”
“No!” The Doctor buttoned his coat impatiently. “I dreamed about her!”
“But you couldn't possibly have-!”
“Jo!” The Doctor put his hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eye. “I know.” He turned on his heel and hurried out of the lab.
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Author's Notes: Just a small update to keep you guys going.
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“Doctor, what on Earth are you doing?” the Brigadier snapped indignantly as the Doctor rushed past him, nearly knocking him over. “Where are you going, man?”
“Infirmary!” the Doctor called without missing a beat.
“Infirmary?” Lethbridge-Stewart cocked an eyebrow and took off after his scientific advisor, “But I thought you were feeling better!”
“He's worse, Brigadier!” Jo replied urgently as she caught up to him. “He thinks he's looking for that missing girl”
The Brigadier looked even more bewildered. “What missing girl?” Jo held up the newspaper as they both jogged down the hall. “What? That missing girl? Why ever should he think he's looking for her?”
“He said something about a dream,”
“Must've realized he's taken a turn for the worse. Gone to admit himself, poor chap,” the Brigadier reasoned as he and Jo came through the doors of the infirmary.”
“My dear Brigadier, I most certainly have NOT taken a turn for the worse!” To Jo and the Brigadier's astonishment, they found the Doctor rifling through cabinets and drawers of the sick bay supply room.
“What are you looking for, Doctor?” Jo asked uneasily.
“A thermometer, my dear. I've misplaced mine, and I had thought it would be easier to find one here, but there doesn't seem to be any rhyme or reason to this lot. Anyway, if I've still got a lingering fever, that could explain a few things.
“Let me see, Doctor,” Jo placed the back of her hand to the Doctor's forehead. He sighed and indulgently stood still until Jo pulled her hand away and gasped in alarm. “Doctor! You can't possibly have a fever; you're ice cold!”
“Fifteen point six degrees Celsius is far from 'ice cold', Jo,” the Doctor opened another cabinet, “That's the average normal temperature for a Gallifreyan. Aha! Here we are, at last!” Taking the thermometer out of its case, he shook it down (like a true MD, the Brigadier mused) and placed it in his mouth.
The Brigadier sighed impatiently when the Doctor finally pulled out the thermometer and studied it carefully. “Well?”
The Doctor swabbed the end with a disinfectant and placed the thermometer back in its case. “Slight fever, Brigadier,” he announced. “Just as well; I never did like coincidences. Come along, Jo.”
“Now where are you off to?” asked the Brigadier with the air of one long suffering as he followed the Doctor out of the infirmary.
“To get some rest?” Jo provided hopefully.
The Doctor frowned. “Don't be silly, Jo. We've got to find that girl!”
Lethbridge-Stewart rolled his eyes. “Good Lord, here we go again!”
“Doctor, you just proved yourself that you're still not well,” Jo pointed out.
“I'm well enough!” The Doctor stopped in his tracks, squeezing his eyes shut. He ducked into his sleeve and sneezed twice.
“Besides, this is a top secret military establishment with the only purpose of investigating strange goings on. How does a missing child have anything to do with us?”
The Doctor wiped his nose and frowned at his colleague. “My dear Lethbridge-Stewart, I should have thought that was perfectly obvious."
****************************************************
The Brigadier massaged his temples in frustration. “Doctor, I still don't understand what you're talking about.”
The Doctor sighed and glanced at Jo, who confirmed her own incomprehension with a small nod. “All right, then, from the top,” he said patiently. “My kind are slightly telepathic. Well, much more telepathic than humans.”
“You mean you could read my mind?” Jo asked in amazement.
The Doctor smiled. “No. Well, not easily, anyway. Humans are somewhat telepathic, but usually mostly by accident. What little ability you have as children, you often come to shield as adults.” He rested his elbows on the lab table. “It's a similar situation for my kind, only less pronounced. We learn to control the ability with a sort of 'psychic shielding', if you will. But it tends to break down when one is unconscious or weak.”
“That is all very well, Doctor, but I still don't understand where this girl comes in.” The Brigadier leaned on the lab table irritably.
“I made a psychic link with her, so to speak.” the Doctor stated simply.
Jo frowned. “But I thought you said you couldn't read human minds.”
The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck. “Well, as I said, children have higher psychic ability than adults, and I haven't exactly been...” he cleared his throat, “well...”
Jo's eyes brightened. “Of course! That's why you saw her in your sleep!”
“So, you're telling me that you saw where that girl is?” The Brigadier paced away from the table.
“Well, not exactly, Brigadier.” The Doctor stood up and started toward the door of the lab.
The Brigadier raised his eyebrows. “Well, then how in blazes do you plan to find her?”
Pausing a moment, the Doctor looked over his shoulder. “I'm afraid that's a little more difficult to explain. You'll just have to trust me.” His eyes shifted to his assistant. “Coming, Jo?”
The Brigadier watched the pair leave the laboratory, shaking his head. If the Doctor wanted to play bloodhound, fine. As long as there was nothing else that required his attention, of course. He had to admit that the Doctor usually knew what he was doing, and although it wasn't his concern officially, the Brigadier couldn't help but feel sympathy for the family missing a child. If the Doctor could bring the poor girl home...
Lethbridge-Stewart glanced at the old police box in the corner of the lab and sighed. “Good luck, Doctor.”
*************************************************
“How?"
The Doctor raised his eyebrows as he helped Jo into the yellow roadster. “How what?”
Jo waited until he climbed into the driver's seat before elaborating, “How are you going to find her?”
“Well, as I said, it's difficult to explain.”
“But you would try unless...” She gave him a stern look, “You don't know, do you!”
The Doctor rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, “That isn't entirely true, Jo. I know that I can do it, but as to how, well, I don't quite understand it myself.” He turned and pointed off into the distance. “As the crow flies...” He put Bessie into gear and maneuvered out of the car park.
“But how can you be so sure without knowing how?” Jo was not about to let the subject drop. The Doctor certainly hadn't been himself lately, and she wasn't all together sure that he was thinking clearly.
She almost wished she hadn't asked as she saw the Doctor slip into lecture mode. “I have a theory, but it doesn't quite check out. Being mildly telepathic myself, I am able to follow psychic impulses through either intense concentration or lowered psychic defenses.” He glanced at Jo, who blinked uncomprehendingly. “I have to be trying really hard, or I have to have my psychic defenses weakened through illness or fatigue,” he tried to clarify.
“It's easier because you're sick, right?”
“Top of the class, Jo. And like most forms of communication, it should get easier to follow the closer we get.”
“So what doesn't check out?” Jo asked.
“It's too strong. The psychic impulse, I mean.”
“But you said-”
“I know what I said, Jo. It's possible that this girl is just unusual, but...”
“But you think she might be an alien,” Jo concluded. “But why didn't you tell the Brigadier? He might've listened to you if you'd explained.”
The Doctor snorted, “And what? Have him charge in, guns blazing?” Jo felt him lean harder on the gas pedal. “If this is just a missing child, the poor girl would be traumatized for life!”
Jo shook her head, “Now, really, Doctor. You don't honestly think the Brigadier would pull a gun on a six year old girl, do you?”
*****************************************************
The two rode in silence for nearly an hour before the Doctor suddenly pulled Bessie over into the gravel driveway of a field.
“You think she's out there?” Jo asked doubtfully.
“Nope,” the Doctor replied matter-of-factually pointing to the adjacent woods. “She's in there. We'll have to walk from here.” He reached into the seat behind him and pulled out an army pack. “Food, water, and that blanket,” he explained slinging it over his shoulder. “She likely hasn't had anything to eat or drink, and while it has been mild for January, it's far from warm. She's spent the night outside.”
Jo trotted to catch up to him as he strode purposefully through the trees. “I hadn't even thought about that! What if she didn't make it through the night!”
The Doctor put a comforting hand on her shoulder, “Not to worry, my dear. If she's not alive, then what am I following?” He smiled as he felt her relax somewhat. “I think it'll be a bit of a walk yet.”
He passed the time by pointing out trees and shrubs while Jo tried her best to look interested. Halfway through a lecture on the silver birch, the Doctor turned to her. “We're very close. She could probably hear us if we called for her.”
Jo was apprehensive. If they were close enough to be heard, but she didn't answer, what would that mean?
“Ah-CHOO!”
“What was that?”
“That was me!”
Jo shook her head frantically, “No, not you! Listen!”
The Doctor could hear it, too. A rusting in the bushes accompanied by a low growl. It was coming closer. He stepped in front of Jo, instinctively shielding her from whatever creature was lurking in the shrubbery.
“Chaaaaaaaarrllieeeeee!”
Upon hearing its name, the beast raised its head, turning toward the summons. It was a large dog! A mutt, it seemed, to the Doctor. A very handsome one, at that! It had the slim face of a golden retriever and the short hair of a yellow Labrador. The dog gave the Doctor and Jo one last look before sprinting off with a wave of its bushy tail.
“That must be her dog,” the Doctor reasoned. “Come on, Jo!”
They gave chase.
It wasn't far. The Doctor and Jo soon stumbled into a relative clearing where they were met once again with the growling Charlie. The Doctor noted that although his hair was mostly short, the dog had a line of longer hair that lead from the neck down to the tail which was standing on end like an absurd mo-hawk.
“Charlie, it's okay. He's a friend,”
As though understanding this new information through complete comprehension of English, the dog changed at once. No longer the menacing figure with his hair standing up, Charlie gave the Doctor a quick lick on the hand and an apologetic glance with his large brown eyes before looking at the ground submissively.
“Good boy,” the Doctor scratched the dog behind the ears as he peered beyond him and saw a small figure curled up next to a tree. A silver birch, he noted, before impatiently waving away the unimportant information. She was wearing a purple knit coat that reached her knees over a blue checkered sundress that went just past her knees. A pair of scuffed, black, rubber rain boots nearly met the hem of her skirt.
Charlie pranced over to the girl and licked her face before curling up next to her. She in turn buried her face in his fur, her mid-length golden hair nearly blending into his coat.
“Adelaide?” Now that the dog would permit it, the Doctor knelt down beside her and took her hand. Her fingers were red from the cold, but she seemed all right. “I'm the Doctor, and this is Jo. We're not going to hurt you; we've come to find you.”
Adelaide looked up with tired blue eyes. Her skin was light, and she had a pattern of freckles across her nose. “I know. You said you would come and find me.” She smiled as though letting him in on a secret, “I know it's you because I recognize your hum.”
The Doctor was taken aback by the peculiar statement, but set his inquiries aside for a better time. Instead, he pulled out a bottle of water and the army blanket from the pack. “Drink this, my dear,” he coaxed as he wrapped the blanket around her. “Now let's get you out of here.”
*****************************************************
She was only a little more than three feet tall and weighed roughly forty pounds, so the Doctor had no trouble carrying her cradled in his arms. Charlie whined slightly as he picked her up
“It's all right, Charlie. Thank you. You kept me safe.”
Jo got the feeling that this was something Adelaide often said to Charlie to reassure him that he had done a good job. While she had been frightened of him initially, she now found him to be very sweet. “You kept her warm, didn't you, boy,” Jo patted him on the head as they followed the Doctor through the woods.
The Doctor looked over his shoulder at them and smiled, “Yes, you're very lucky to have such a devoted dog; he may well have saved your life!”
“He's my best friend,” Adelaide murmured, taking a drink of water. “I think he's thirsty, too.”
“Don't worry, we passed a spring on the way here, didn't we, Doctor?” Jo chimed in.
He nodded. “It's coming up soon. We'll take a break there where he can get a drink.”
As promised, the group soon came to a small spring where clear, cool water gurgled along like a tiny river in its own miniature channel.
“Here we are,” the Doctor announced. Charlie pricked up his ears at the sound of trickling water and bounded forward to gratefully lap it up. The Doctor set Adelaide down on her feet next to her thirsty companion and took one of her hands. “You seem warmer, anyway. How do you feel?”
The small girl looked bashful, “A little hungry,” she confessed.
The Doctor furrowed his brow, “Oh, of course. How thoughtless of me. Jo?” Jo brought the traveling bag over and handed it to him. “We have some granola bars for now. We'll get you something proper to eat once we get back.”
She took the granola bar that he offered, “Does it have chocolate in it?” she asked as she struggled with the package.
The Doctor held out his hand in an offer to open it for her, “No, it's peanut butter. Is that all right?” he asked as he broke the seal.
“That's perfect,” she assured him. Taking back the now unwrapped bar, she divided it in half and gave one portion to Charlie. “Dad says chocolate's not good for dogs,” she explained, patting her friend on the head as he gobbled down the ration.
The Doctor opened another bar and gave it to Adelaide. “You don't have to do that; there are plenty.” He turned to his assistant, “Would you like one, Jo?”
Jo accepted a bar and sat down next to Adelaide, who was finishing her second bar. Charlie came over and put his head in Jo's lap. “Hello, Charlie,” she grinned brightly, but the dog merely shifted his head slightly and gave a small whine. Adelaide clicked her tongue three times and Charlie perked up his ears and trotted happily to his small companion.
“Can you sit?” The dog happily complied as Adelaide carefully placed the last piece of her granola bar on the end of his nose. “Wait for it...” Charlie stood perfectly still, staring intently at his treat until... “Get it!” In one deft movement, he tipped his head and caught the bit of granola in his mouth. “Good boy!”
The Doctor chuckled while Jo clapped her hands. “That's pretty good!”
“Does he know any more tricks, Addie- er, Adelaide?” Jo looked sheepish, “Sorry.”
“I like the nickname 'Addie',” the Doctor mused aloud, stretching out his long legs and lounging against a large rock as he absentmindedly whittled the bark off a discarded twig. “Do you mind if we call you 'Addie'?”
The child tilted her head as if to consider the proposition. “Yes, okay. You can call me 'Addie'.” She scratched Charlie behind the ears. “He does lot's of tricks if I ask him to. He sits, lays down, stays, fetches, stands up... uh...”
“Rolls over?” the Doctor prompted.
Addie shook her head, “Nope. He doesn't want to do that one.”
Jo smiled, “Oh, that's okay. I'm sure you can teach him eventually.”
Addie's demeanor suddenly changed. Her shoulders seemed to droop, and she clutched at Charlie's fur.
“No, I can't.”
Her voice wavered as her lower lip trembled. Charlie whimpered sympathetically as a tear slid down her cheek.
The Doctor looked up from his twig, frowning in concern.
“Why not?” Jo asked, bewildered by the sudden depression. She reached out and placed her hand on the child's shoulder comfortingly. “What's wrong?”
“Charlie,” she whimpered, her voice strained as she tried not to sob outright. “When we get home, they're gonna take Charlie away.”
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Author's Notes: I might revise this one as I think the way Addie presents the problem feels a bit awkward. In truth, I really don't have the time to write this, but I'm doing it anyway. (Funny how that works, innit?)
Enjoy, and let me know what you think.
CAUTION: The Doctor gets very sweet in this one!
“But why will they take Charlie away?” Jo tried to make her voice gentle, the way primary school teachers spoke to their young students.
Addie had taken to clinging to Charlie as though afraid he might suddenly disappear. She wouldn't look at Jo or the Doctor and was trying, unsuccessfully, to hide her tears. Without preamble, she began to explain.
“Grandpa told my mum and dad that it's not good for me to spend all my time with a dog and not make friends with kids my own age.” She took a shuddering breath. “He said that if they took Charlie away, then I would have to make friends.”
Jo frowned; that didn't seem entirely reasonable.
“Mum and Dad are really worried that I'm not friends with any of the kids at school. James says it's 'cause there's something wrong with me.”
“James?” the Doctor inquired.
“He's my brother." Her voice began to break. "He must be right 'cause they keep taking me to doctors who try to make me better, but it doesn't help.” Addie stroked Charlie's fur, an activity that seemed to calm her. “I know that they just want to help me. Sometimes... Sometimes when James is playing with his friends, and Mum sees me by myself, I feel her get really sad.”
The Doctor leaned forward intently, “You feel her sadness?”
“What does it feel like?” Jo asked. The Doctor cringed inwardly. Of course, he was wondering the same thing, but he was also acutely aware of the emotional stress such a question was putting on the already exhausted child. Just as he'd feared, the poor girl buried her head in her hands, visibly trembling.
He cleared his throat uncomfortably, “We... We're losing daylight; we had best be going.” He tossed his twig aside only to have it dutifully retrieved by the eager mutt. The Doctor smiled despite himself, but it was short-lived as Addie's mood didn't improve. He sighed. If there was one thing that would always tug at his hearts, it was crying children.
The Doctor gave Jo a meaningful look, handing her the twig and tilting his head toward an attentive Charlie. She nodded in understanding, “Come on, Charlie, fetch!”
As Jo went off to entertain their furry charge, the Doctor knelt down next to Addie. He waited patiently for the child to take her head out of her hands before coughing politely to catch her attention. She started a bit, apparently having forgotten she was not alone. Sniffling slightly, she met his eyes for a moment before glancing back down at her boots.
“I'm sorry.” She sniffled again.
“You've nothing to be sorry for.”
Addie responded with another sniffle. The Doctor shook his head, “Oh, dear. That won't do at all.” She glanced at him apprehensively, unsure of what he meant. “Have you got a hanky?” he asked her gently.
“I...”
He smiled lightly, “Not to worry, my dear. I've got a spare you can have.” The Doctor made a show of checking his pockets. “Now where did I...” He paused theatrically, “Ah, yes, now I remember.” Leaning over, he reached behind her ear and pulled out a blue linen handkerchief. “Silly place to leave it, I suppose.”
Addie giggled as the Doctor presented her with the handkerchief. “There, now, that's yours. Dry your eyes; blow your nose. There's a good girl.” She complied, and the Doctor stood up to stretch his legs.
After shoving the handkerchief into her coat pocket, Addie stood up as well. The Doctor beamed down at her, offering his hand, “Let's get going, shall we?”
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What do you think so far? Let me know!