Wisdom War and Tea

by Angelbev21 [Reviews - 85]

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  • All Ages
  • Swearing
  • Action/Adventure

Author's Notes:
Thank you ever so much for reading and please tell me what you think. Again, I don't own these characters, don't want to make any money off of them, but if it's a crime to love them dearly, I'm a felon for love! (BTW, sorry it's a tad short, but believe me, I'll make up for it later...)

The Doctor, bruised and bleeding from a cut above his eye, stumbled across the frozen tundra, even as his body was succumbing to the bitter -70 degree cold, despite the protection he wore. The Ziemeratans lured him in unwittingly with their unique energy signatures, their machinery set up and stealing hydrogen from the Earth's atmosphere, hidden in the part of the Antarctic still uninhabited in the year 2012. Global warming had begun due to their actions and the Doctor set out to stop them, but they'd proved to be a formidable foe.

The last time he had encountered the Ziemeratans, they were a peaceful race, a tad bit too commercial for his taste, but they were well on their way to the stars, taking their place with the rest of the sentient, space-going beings in their galaxy.

Now? He was on the run for his life from this burgeoning species with no backup, no companion and no intention of contacting Captain Jack Harkness and his team at Torchwood Institute. The Doctor found himself temperarily outwitted and right now the visage of Jack smirking at him with a know-it-all grin left much to be desired.

Rounding a snowdrift, he stumbled again, his frozen feet almost too numb to walk. Desperate to get back to his T.A.R.D.I.S., he found himself falling, landing face first. Spitting out snow, his shaking fingers dug into his pocket and found his sonic screwdriver, knowing he only had seconds before any Zeimeratans started showing up.

'Not good, this won't do,' he thought as he saw his fingers were blue from the cold and struggled to get the right settings. Finally, he managed to move the settings enough to call it and it materialized about 10 feet from his position, the sounds of it's engines like the sweet trumpets of Deneb 7 to his ears.

Pocketing the screwdriver, he got up and made for the doors and blessed warmth only to be stopped short by the whisper of something flying through the air. Before he could take another breath, the thump against his back slammed him into T.A.R.D.I.S.'s doors. As soon as he realized he's just been knifed between his shoulder blades, the whitehot pain hit and completely took his breath away. His look of shock was priceless as he landed against the doors from the force of the blow.


The word slipped out before he could control himself as his hands automatically searched for the handle. Finding it, he pushed and nearly fell in as he legs threatened to wobble. By sheer will, he brought himself around and closed the doors with his body and leaned against them for support, every movement making the knife feel like it was digging im deeper. The warmth of the T.A.R.D.I.S. hit his face and lungs and he breathed it in as best he could, the ship singing to him, her worry for him sang in her tone. It gave him the strength to cross the ramp and up to the controls. He felt his life's blood trickle down his back underneath his clothes, his breath getting shorter and he realized the knife must have nicked a lung.

"Brilliant," he gasped, "a Timelord brought down by a primitive species with a ceremonial knife tucked in a lung. Just the way to end a day. Couldn't they have just shot me and been done with it? What would Rose thi-?" His hands moved over the controls and then stopped, realizing what he just said. What made him say it? By Rassilon, he'd tried to keep her out of his hearts for so long, never letting her name pass his lips, the thoughts of her were sometimes too much even for him to handle, and yet....his expressive brown eyes looked up at the translucent column of light that was the heart of T.A.R.D.I.S. and implored her for an answer. His telepathic request came unanswered as a boom shook the ship, making it shudder and nearly knocking him off his feet. The act of hanging on the controls with both hands caused more white hot pain to arc through his chest and made what breath he took between his teeth hiss until he saw spots before his eyes. He felt the world slip from his conciousness and gritted his teeth, trying to hold on.

He set the controls for Torchwood. There was no help for it. He couldn't regenerate with a knife in his back and Jack would know what to do. He felt the ship lift off, even as he finally succombed to the darkness. His body slumped down to the floor and wedged itself between the controls and the jumpseat. T.A.R.D.I.S. kept singing to him, willing him awake but knew he would not answer. She then took matters in her own and reset the controls, locked the coordinates and picked up speed, destination: a new rip in the dimensions. She'd finally found what she was looking for.

She quietly continued to sing to her Doctor.