Part Three — Bad Things
“No, really, let’s not be hasty…” the Doctor chattered nervously, wishing that he could risk a fight in the enclosed space of the cell, with six armed guards ready to shoot his companions. He really didn’t want to find out what was in the hypospray tube his captor was currently brandishing. So, of course, he asked, “What’s in that hypospray?”
“Oh, nothing much,” the alien replied, taking the opportunity to press the tube against the Doctor’s neck and hit the button to release its contents. There was a hissing sound, and the Doctor jerked away, but was held fast by his guards. “You will become quite familiar with its effects over the next few hours. We like to call it a chemical blindfold. You will find that it will block all sensory input to your mind except for the sense of touch, which may be somewhat heightened. A delightful side effect, I’ve always thought. I’ll see you again when the blindfold has taken effect. You won’t be seeing me.”
With that dire pronouncement and a sadistic smile, the alien retreated to the corridor. The guards released the Doctor, and then all six of them backed out of the cell. The door clanged shut, and then the aliens left the way they had come.
The occupants of the cell didn’t move until they heard the door out of their sight up the corridor also clang shut, signaling that they were again alone.
Jack and Rose rushed to the Doctor’s side, concerned.
“Doctor?” Jack asked.
“You alright?” Rose added.
The Doctor blinked at them, feeling more surprised than anything else. He couldn’t tell if the drug was affecting him yet. He shrugged, pulling away from them to return to his previous seat against the back wall of the cell.
They followed him, sitting down other either side of him.
“Doctor?” Jack repeated.
“It might not work on me, you know,” he told them then. “I’m even farther from these folks physiologically than they are from you humans. This chemical blindfold might not affect me at all.”
“That’d be nice, I suppose,” Rose replied.
“Quite,” the Doctor agreed.
“So… best case scenario, the drug doesn’t work on Time Lords. Worst case scenario…” Jack trailed off, giving the Doctor a look.
“Doesn’t really bear thinking about, does it,” the Doctor observed mildly.
It didn’t, but they couldn't help thinking about it anyway. What if the drug did affect him? What if it was permanent? Their captor hadn’t said.
“What do we do?” Rose questioned after a moment.
“We wait,” the Doctor sighed. “Unfortunately.”
So they waited. Rose and Jack watched the Doctor carefully, worrying about the drug. The Doctor fidgeted, feeling frustrated and a bit worried, himself.
It was nearly a half hour of idle conversation later when the Doctor suddenly lifted a mud covered sleeve up to his face and licked it.
“Bugger all,” he complained. “I never thought I’d say this, but I wish I could taste the mud!”
“Your sense of taste is gone?” Jack asked.
The Doctor nodded, and their hopes sank. Taste had seemed to be his strongest sense in this incarnation, it was hardly a good omen that it was the first to fade away.
Then he sniffed his sleeve, a slightly distressed look on his face, and their hopes sank even farther.
“Smell as well,” Rose surmised.
The Doctor nodded again, then thumped his head back against the wall once more.
“It’s okay. Might still not affect me the way they think it will. This might be all I lose. Or maybe it won’t affect my non-human senses, my telepathy and time sense,” the Doctor said, trying to reassure himself as much as Rose and Jack.
But even as he spoke, he noticed his sight beginning to grow marginally dimmer. He thumped his head against the wall even harder in frustration.
“No no no no no!” he hissed.
“What is it?” Rose asked, putting a hand on his arm. Jack mirrored her actions on his other side.
“My sight is fading,” he told them grimly.
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