Back in Time

The Unquiet Dead (Pt. 1)

"He hasn't woken up for weeks, Mr. Harkness. I'm concerned."

"Just Jack. Mr. Harkness makes me sound old. What did he say before this, Martha?"

"Something about a...a healing coma. I tried looking things up in the medical wing, in the library, everything I could think of, but...there's nothing. Anything that could have held something is written in Gallifreyan--"

"--and the TARDIS doesn't translate that."

There was a moment of silence between the two, save for the sound of a steady, quiet breathing that could only be that of the Time Lord lying still on the bed of the medical wing.

"There might be someone," came Jack's voice.

"Who?"

"Another Time Lord. The Master."

"But he said he's the last Time Lord." Martha sounded confused.

"There's a reason Doc doesn't talk about him, Martha. Besides, I don't think even he knows he's still alive."

"How do you, then?"

"He's not the only time traveler in this universe, sweetheart. I've seen some things." There was a pause. "I'm sure the Doctor will be fine, Martha, but are you really that concerned about this...coma?"

"I'm not sure. Like I said, it's been weeks."

"...I'll see what I can do."

-DW-

The Doctor bolted up in his bed, looking around his bedroom and feeling his face. Big ears, big nose, no hair. He was still his past self. Sighing, he let himself drop back onto the mattress as he stared up at the ceiling. That was just a dream, then. If anything, however, the dream made him even more confused. Was he dreaming, or was this real? He knew he was in a healing coma, had known from the beginning. Yet Martha was still there (he had been out for weeks) and Jack had somehow come into the mix (how did he even find out where they were? How was he even still alive?) and now he was going to contact the Master (he thought he was dead) to take him out of the coma.

How confusing. His head was aching in it. For now, however, he would put it to the back of his mind. It didn't matter.

(Well, that was a lie. It did matter, but right now he didn't care to think too much on what happened to him. He was healing, from what he could gather, so he put his trust in that. Unless the Master was brought into play. Then he would worry.)

The Doctor rolled out of bed and went toward the kitchen, where a sleepy Rose was fumbling around for the kettle and some tea. He smiled a bit. She was cute when she was sleepy. If he and his ninth self were in their right minds, the former would likely blush while the latter would scold himself for thinking that way about a companion. Since they weren't, however, all morals flew out of the window, and he let himself think what he wished.

Besides, this was a dream anyway. Damn the consequences.

"Mornin'!" he called, sounding chipper despite his earlier dream. Rose looked over and frowned.

"You're awfully happy this morning. What is it?"

"Nothing. Brand new day! Things to see, worlds to save--"

"--tea to drink," she said with a grin. The Doctor grinned back.

"That too. Plenty of things to do. A whole universe to explore! Why would I not be happy?"