Chapter Text
Awareness came back to the Doctor in the form of a pounding headache. Groaning, she reached a hand up automatically to massage her temple and opened her eyes.
“Doc!” cried Graham, his voice exuding relief. “Oh, sorry,” he amended in a softer tone, seeing the Time Lord wince. “You alright?”
The Doctor nodded distractedly, looking around. The walls were dark rock and seemed to be naturally generated – there was no particular pattern to the rocks jutting out. She could see stalagmites dispersed along the floor, and there was a rather musty smell – she gathered that wherever they were was not entirely dry. Looking up, she saw a high ceiling peppered with stalactites. She hoped they weren’t about to come crashing down on her and Graham; that would be rather inconvenient.
“What are we doing in a cave?” she asked Graham.
“I’ve no idea, Doc,” Graham confessed. “This is where they took us.”
“They?” The Doctor’s memories swam hazily before her as she tried to make sense of them. “We were on the planet with nine suns,” she remembered. “We were going to watch the sunsets, but then we found that Malmooth, Nakkan. He told us his people had been enslaved by the Sycorax.”
Graham sighed. “I told you we shouldn’t have gone for the direct approach. Why not let Yaz and Ryan do the talking for once? We could have done the sneaking around while they created the distraction.”
The Doctor looked at him, affronted. “Graham O’Brian! Who do you think I am? You think I could let Yaz and Ryan have all the interesting conversations?”
“Oh, it was interesting, all right,” said Graham. “Right up until they attacked us without warning.”
“It wasn’t my fault!” the Doctor complained. “Everything was going fine until we turned to go. I thought we’d come to an understanding. They must have snuck up behind us.”
“Well, what are we going to do now?” Graham asked.
The Doctor patted her pockets. “No sonic,” she sighed. “They must have taken it. Let’s see …”
She looked around, this time intent on searching for a way out. There was a single lantern above them acting as the sole source of light in the room. The Doctor couldn’t see any openings in the cave walls, which made her wonder how she and Graham had been brought in here. There must be some sort of entrance; she just needed to find it.
As if on cue, a narrow section of the cave wall furthest from them suddenly slid smoothly upward in a single motion, as if automated, and a Sycorax entered the room. He or she (it was hard to tell the alien’s gender with the mask and robe) moved purposefully toward Graham and the Doctor. Behind the first, two more Sycorax entered, wheeling a simple metal cart into the cave. The wheels caught on the uneven ground, and several pebbles kept making the cart jolt, resulting in unpleasant creaking noises. When the two aliens had brought the cart to the center of the cave, they retreated to wait by the door, which was still visible.
“Doctor,” snarled the first Sycorax. “We have you at last.”
“Aw, that’s sweet,” said the Doctor, smiling in mock admiration. “But really, you didn’t have to do all this.”
“Ah, but we did,” said the Sycorax. “We know what you are, Doctor. We will not make the same mistakes as our ancestors.”
“Ah, that bunch that invaded Earth on Christmas a few years ago, they were your ancestors, were they?”
The Sycorax hissed, but otherwise ignored the comment. “You see, Doctor, we knew you would come sooner or later. We have need of you.”
“Well, whatever it is, it’s not gonna happen,” said Graham. “You can forget it.”
“Oh, can I?” The Doctor could hear the sneer in the alien’s voice. The Sycorax held a hand gesture up for the other aliens to see, and both guards immediately crossed the room and grabbed Graham by his arms.
“Oi! Get off me!” He struggled, but the guards held him fast.
The lead Sycorax slowly approached Graham, pulling a knife from their belt with deliberate precision. They brought it to Graham’s face and traced the man’s nose with the tip. Graham’s eyes were shut tight in preparation for what was to come.
“Let. Him. Go.” The Doctor spoke with determination. She would not let them harm Graham.
The Sycorax slowly lowered their knife and turned to face the Doctor. “As I was saying … we have need of you.”
“Release my friend,” the Doctor demanded. “Then we can talk.”
The Sycorax continued to stare at her. The Doctor couldn’t see their face under the mask, so she had no idea what they were thinking. Finally, the alien made another hand motion, and the guards threw Graham to the ground and retreated, flanking their leader. Graham stood up and brushed himself off, huffing indignantly.
“What do you want?” the Doctor asked, glaring at the alien.
She could just barely see the Sycorax’s eyes through the slits in the helmet. Nevertheless, the two of them locked eyes and held the stare for a moment. “Your blood,” the alien hissed.
The Doctor wasn’t sure what she’d been expecting, but whatever it was, it wasn’t that. She stared, openmouthed. “My blood? Why?”
“That is not your concern,” snapped the Sycorax.
They gestured to the cart, and the Doctor noticed its contents for the first time. There were needles, tubing, and empty blood bags scattered across the entire surface of the cart.
“These supplies should be sufficient. We require twenty units. Once you have produced enough, we will release you and your friend.”
The Doctor shifted her weight, trying to seem in control. “And if I refuse?”
“I was hoping you’d say that.” The sneer was evident in the alien’s voice.
Quicker than anyone could react, the Sycorax had their knife in their hand once again and slashed at Graham’s arm. Graham cried out and stumbled backward, clutching his arm. The Doctor could see a gash on his forearm. She stormed toward the Sycorax, but the two guards blocked her path, holding their weapons threateningly. She glared furiously at the Sycorax leader.
The alien held her gaze. “As long as you cooperate, no harm will come to your friend. But if you don’t …” They let the sentence hang; the meaning was clear.
“We will be back to check on you tomorrow,” said the Sycorax. They turned and walked purposefully toward the exit. The guards waited for their leader to exit, then flanked them out.
As soon as the last alien crossed the threshold, the cave wall slid smoothly back into place, the breaks in the stone sealing themselves, until there was no evidence that there had ever been a door there.
The Doctor rushed over to Graham. “Are you alright? How’s your arm?”
“I’m good, Doc,” Graham reassured her. He extended his arm for her examination. “Just a scratch, see?”
The Doctor breathed a sigh of relief; the cut was shallow. “Still, we should bandage it,” she said. She was about to tear a section of her coat, but Graham stopped her.
“Here, let me,” he offered. He tore a section of his shirt that was about the right size and started wrapping it around his arm. “No need to ruin your coat. Rosa Parks once mended it, after all.”
The Doctor smiled and shook her head. Why Graham would be thinking about something like that at a time like this, she couldn’t imagine.
“So, what’s the plan, Doc? You’re not really gonna give them your blood, are you?”
“Not if I can help it. Giving them my blood would be a very bad idea. Time Lords were a powerful race; our blood is quite potent. In the wrong hands … who knows what it could be capable of. No, we need to get out of here, Graham. We just need to figure out how.”
***
The hours ticked by slowly. The Doctor and Graham had come up with a plan. It wasn’t much, but they didn’t have a lot to work with, so it was the best they could do, under the circumstances.
Graham had toyed with the idea of doing what they wanted, at least at first, but the Doctor had refused – she didn’t like the idea of giving them her blood. What could they want it for? Her mind went back to the blood control they had implemented on the humans – but she was one of the few Time Lords left. They couldn’t possibly have plans to control her species. Nevertheless, the Doctor knew they were after her blood for something, and she didn’t like not knowing what it was. She certainly wasn’t going to give it up without a fight.
As they waited, they discussed Yaz and Ryan. Graham told her they’d be fine, that the two of them had been in worse scrapes before and escaped, but the Doctor still worried. If the Sycorax had managed to kidnap Graham and her, she couldn’t imagine that their friends had gotten away. What if they were trapped here, in another room? The Doctor’s thoughts brought her down a dark path: what if her friends were being used as backup leverage, to replace Graham if she continued to refuse them and they killed him? Her vision tunneled for a moment, and she glared fiercely at the wall. She would never let that happen. She would die before she saw her friends tortured to death.
Of course, she could always ask their captors if they were keeping their friends, but she decided against it. For one thing, if they didn’t know about her friends, asking them would tip them off, which would make Yaz and Ryan’s chances of escape much slimmer. For another, even if they had her friends, there was no reason for them to tell her the truth – she already knew that they had Graham, and they knew that would be sufficient for forcing her hand. No reason to reveal other captives just yet. The Doctor resolved to look for her friends when she and Graham made their escape.
Finally, their captors returned. Graham and the Doctor moved to their positions at the wall on either side of the door, makeshift weapons ready. The Doctor had several bits of tubing from the table, braided together and reinforced with strips of cloth. Graham had the smoothest good-sized rock they could find.
The door opened, and as expected, three Sycorax entered. They seemed confused when they did not see their captors. Without preamble, the Doctor charged, hands stretching the tubing out like a rope. She strung it around the leader’s neck, pulling tight. The alien grasped at it and tried to pull it away, but the Doctor was strong, and she kept it firmly in place. Not tight enough to choke them, just tight enough that they couldn’t remove it.
“Hello,” she murmured in the alien’s ear. “Now, tell your people to remove their helmets.”
The Sycorax growled at her, and she tightened her hold, forcing them to choke slightly.
“Tell them.”
The lead Sycorax gestured, and their guards removed their helmets.
Quick as a flash, Graham struck. He knocked the first one out with one well-placed blow, and the alien crumpled. The hand of the second one went to his gun, but Graham was faster. With a second blow, the other alien also succumbed to unconsciousness. Panting, Graham turned back to the Doctor.
“Brilliant, Graham!” the Doctor congratulated, grinning at him.
Then she turned back to her captive. “Now you. Remove your helmet.”
“So your friend can knock me out? Never!”
The Doctor pulled her tube tighter. “You don’t have much of a choice.”
The alien allowed themself to be choked for a moment, their stubbornness and pride warring with their need to survive. Eventually, survival won out, and they removed their helmet. It turned out, the leader was male.
He hissed at them both defiantly. “You will never escape!”
Graham didn’t let him continue. With another neat blow to the head, the lead Sycorax crumpled, and the Doctor stumbled slightly under the sudden weight. She removed her tube from his neck and allowed him to fall to the ground. Then she and Graham ran toward the cave exit.
They found themselves in a narrow, brightly lit hallway with a single closed door directly opposite them. The Doctor blinked rapidly as she led the way, trying to force her eyes to adjust to the change in lighting.
When they reached the door, the Doctor reached automatically for her sonic, only to feel emptiness.
“Oh, I hate empty pockets,” she grumbled.
Graham tried the door. It opened easily.
The Doctor frowned. “That shouldn’t have been that easy.”
“Why are you complaining, Doc? Let’s just get out of here.”
The Doctor felt uneasy, but she led the way into the room. It looked to her like a lounge - there were tables and chairs in groups around the large room, as if for groups of friends to sit and have a conversation. It also looked completely deserted.
“Why take us to such a large facility if it was just the three of them?” the Doctor wondered.
“Maybe it doesn’t belong to them,” Graham suggested. “Maybe it was the Malmooths’ place originally.”
The Doctor hummed, glad to have an explanation, but still unsure. She spotted a door on the opposite side of the room and pointed. “There!”
Together, she and Graham made their way toward the exit. As she opened the door, the Doctor felt sunlight on her face. She smiled despite herself; it was a beautiful view. She could see mountains in the distance ringed by forests, a different sun poking out from behind each one. Rivers snaked their way through the valley before her. She could see every shade of green she knew in the scenery around her.
“We made it,” Graham breathed.
“Okay, you go look for the TARDIS,” said the Doctor. “I’ll go look for our friends.” She turned back toward the lounge.
“You want to go back in there?” Graham asked, aghast.
“Yes,” said the Doctor. “I have to be sure. Go find my ship, I’ll meet you.”
“Doc, we shouldn’t split up. Our best chance is to stick together.”
“No, Graham,” said the Doctor determinedly. “Your best chance is to find the TARDIS. Mine is to make sure our friends aren’t in here. I’ll meet you there, I promise. Besides, we’re going to need a getaway driver. You still have that TARDIS manual, don’t you?”
Graham nodded.
“Good. Bring the ship right here. I’m counting on you, Graham.”
Graham hesitated, but finally nodded. “Okay. Be safe, Doc. I’ll see you soon.” With that, he took off.
The Doctor turned back toward the lounge and began walking briskly toward the nearest wall. She could see two other doors that could potentially lead to other areas in the facility. She picked one at random and entered. She found herself in a long hallway, with doors on all sides. She groaned in frustration. She needed to find her friends quickly. She didn’t have time for this.
She started pulling doors open at top speed, glancing inside each room as she passed. Kitchen, supply closet, bathroom, bunk room. All were abandoned. The bunk beds looked freshly slept in, but there wasn’t a soul in sight.
“Where is everyone?” the Doctor muttered to herself.
She opened the last door in the hallway and found herself in a dark room. There was a window, but there were thick, iron bars across it. There was no bed, no furniture of any kind.
“Gotcha,” the Doctor breathed. “This must be the prison cell.”
It’s empty, the Time Lord reasoned to herself. That must be a good sign. Yaz and Ryan aren’t here.
She turned back to the hallway, intending to make her way back to the lounge and check that other door. But she didn’t get very far.
Out of the corner of her eye, she caught movement. She turned, but she wasn’t fast enough. Before she knew what was happening, she felt a hard blow to the top of her head.
“Ow!” she exclaimed, her hand reaching up to touch the sore spot. “That was rude!” She looked around for her assailant and found a female Sycorax standing just behind her, wielding a nasty-looking club.
The Sycorax didn’t give her any time to fight back. She simply raised the club again and delivered a second blow to the same spot, this one with more force.
The Doctor crumpled. The Sycorax made no attempt to catch the Gallifreyan, whose head hit the ground with a sickening crack.