The Doctor's Reluctant Companion [Tenth Doctor]

Teetering On the Edge

The hot Madrid sun beat down on our heads, making me wish I had changed into shorts and sandals instead of the sweatpants and Converse I'd been wearing to laze around in my air-conditioned bedroom.

The locals barely gave us passing glances, though our paler skin stood out in the crowds around us. To them, we were just another group of tourists, ill-dressed for the hot weather and wandering aimlessly.

Rose and I quickly lost our way, but the Doctor strode purposefully as if he'd walked this road a thousand times, hands stuffed casually in his pockets. He led us to a large, modern looking building, flashing his psychic paper badge to the guard. The guard squinted suspiciously at the Doctor, asking him what sounded like a question in Spanish.

The Doctor replied in kind, giving what was apparently a good enough explanation, because the guard let us by into cool air conditioning.

"What did he say?" I asked, hurrying to keep up with the Doctor's long strides. The translator function he'd told me about obviously hadn't kicked in yet.

"Asked me why we weren't Spanish. I told him we transferred here as part of an exchange between the NIC and Scotland Yard," the Doctor said. "He must be very low on the ladder not to question such a shallow reason."

I looked up at him, confused. "Why didn't you give him a better one?"

The Doctor leaned down with a twinkle in his eyes, whispering to prevent Rose from hearing. "You'll find, kid, that despite being 900 years old, I don't know everything."

"900?! Jeez, how—is it the two hearts? Doubled cardiovascular system, increased life span?" I tried to wrap my head around the newest fact about this enigmatic savior of mine, trying to imagine the thirty-something looking guy next to me as 900 years old. "What happens if one gives out?"

"The two hearts do allow Timelords to live longer than humans, but it's the regenerations that truly prolong our lifespans," the Doctor explained, chuckling at my reaction. "And if one fails, it's pretty painful."

The Doctor pushed his shoulder against two stainless steel swinging doors, holding one open for Rose and I. The temperature dropped drastically as we stepped into the morgue.

Rectangular steel doors lined the walls, and the Doctor quickly flashed his sonic first at the security cameras, then over the drawers, searching for one of the teenagers with the alien technology.

When the camera sparked and short-circuited, I snorted to myself. I want to become an FBI agent, yet here I am, breaking into a morgue with an alien and his girlfriend.

"Aha!" The Doctor pulled a drawer open, lifting a sheet back from a Spanish teen. His sonic buzzed again, making him curse. "I'm an idiot! They've removed the brains for analysis, why didn't I think of that?!"

I got a look at the teenager just before the Doctor shut the drawer. It was a girl, no more than 15, with livid bruising around her neck. A pang of sympathy rose, and I rested a hand on the closed drawer for a moment, knowing how the girl must have felt before she hung herself, like dying was the only thing that could shut the voices out.

"Kid, come on!" The Doctor's voice pulled me from my thoughts, and I found a tear had slid down my face. I quickly wiped it away before following Rose and the Doctor.

Apparently following some signal from his sonic, the Doctor led us through winding halls, deeper into the building. He finally ducked into a lab, beelining for a table covered with silver filaments.

Rose and I took a moment to catch our breath before joining him, finding the Timelord muttering to himself with several of the filaments twisted around his thin fingers.