Words (Doctor Who Fanfiction)

Chapter 17: Shakespeare Code

"Great!" Martha said, miffed, she leaned across the bedside table, blowing the candle out quickly.
The room suddenly went dark, cold seeping in through the walls. I shivered, clutching my bony arms to my chest. The stars in the night sparkled, shimmering in the deep blue sky.
I can see why Vincent Van Gogh painted "The Starry Night"
I breathed in the chilled air, my mind spinning. Why are they so familiar? Like I've seen and been to each one?
Names appeared in my brain, foreign, alien names. Names that I shouldn't have known.
"Tessa?" The Doctor murmured, his deep voice breaking the silence. I flipped around, cringing at the creaks and groans the uncomfortable bench made. Looking at the Doctor's face, I could see his eyes were closed, his chest moving evenly.
He's asleep. I sighed, fighting my internal battle of going up to him and laying in the bed, or staying here, the cold wind brushing against my arms, raising goosebumps.
I lifted my feet in front of me, having made up my mind. The wooden floors creaked beneath my weight, the Doctor stirring. I rushed to the edge of the bed, crawling in next to him, his heat enveloping me instantly.
He rolled over, his face in my hair, his arms wrapping around my waist. His touch left a burning sensation on my bare skin, my shirt lifting up to reveal my waist. His fingers brushed against my cold skin, his chest rumbling when I stiffened.
"You little-" I whispered forcefully, inching my way, reluctantly, away from him.
"Tessa, what are you gonna do? Freeze?"
"What happened to Rose?" I demanded, turning over to see his face.
"Doomsday."
"What's 'Doomsday'?" I quoted, noticing how he tensed up.
"A terrible day. You were there, or will be there."
"Did Rose-"
"Die? No. Parallel universe. She's trapped, can never see either of us ever again." A few tears slipped down his cheeks, and I lifted my hand, wiping them away, bringing him closer to me. Despair clenched my chest, dropping my spirits, bringing me down.
Silence fell over us, my mind blank for the first time in forever.
I looked at him through my eyelashes, his eyes closed, his face scrunched up in painful memories. Carefully, I lifted myself up, pressing my lips to his forehead gently, his eyes fluttering open. I moved away, leaning back down, my head pressed against his chest, enjoying the sincere moment.
He lifted my chin, forcing me to look at him. He leaned in, his lips meeting mine, soft like butterfly wings. We pulled apart, looking into each others eyes, a comfortable silence falling on our shoulders.
"Tessa Lecteur, I-" A high pitched scream cut him off, knocking me off the bed. The Doctor jumped up, pulling me off the floor. "Martha! Come on!" I yelled, pausing, and then going over and gently shaking her awake. Groggily, she opened her eyes to me, confusion writing itself on her features, quickly being replaced by a cold glare.
I sighed, holding out my hand for her to take. She ignored it, slipping past me to find the Doctor.
"Wha'? What was that?" Shakespeare said startled, looking around in bewilderment as Martha and I entered.
"Her heart gave out. She dies of fright." I then noticed the Doctor leaning over the body of the plump lady, her face stricken.
"Doctor?" Martha spoke up, sounding frightened. I may not like her much, but I am a caring person. I slipped my way over to her, cautious not to startle her or make her uncomfortable.
"What did you see?" The Doctor asked, standing next to Martha as the three of us looked out the window.
"A witch."
I inhaled, closing my eyes as strange images bombarded my mind. Images of hideous creatures, who spoke so carefully, using the right words to destroy the world. Carrionite.
"Oh, sweet Dolly Bailey. She sat out three bouts of the plague in this place. We all ran like rats. But what could have scared her so? She had such enormous spirit." Shakespeare mumbled, I turned around, noticing Martha staring at me oddly, not glaring, but slightly concerned.
"'Rage, rage against the dying of the light.'" The Doctor quoted.
"I might use that." Shakespeare commented thoughtfully.
"You can't. It's someone else's." I replied, walking up to the chair I had sat in earlier.\
"But the thing is, Lynley drowned on dry land, Dolly dies of fright and they were both connected to you." Martha voiced her thought aloud, earning a confused and slightly hurt look from Shakespeare.
"You're accusing me?"
"No, but I saw a witch, big as you like, flying, cackling away, and you've written about witches."
"I have? When was that?"
"Not, not quite yet." I murmured softly in her ear, earning a quick glance from both the Doctor and Will.
"Peter Streete spoke of witches." Shakespeare continued, scratching his chin.
"Who's Peter Streete?" I questioned, sitting up straighter in my chair.
"Our builder. He sketched the plans to the globe."
"Wow." I mumbled, in awe at what Peter Streete had created.
"The architect. Hold on. The architect! The architect! The Globe! Come on!" The Doctor exclaimed, slamming his fist on the table. A jealous undertone was audible. I smirked at Will, his face reddening with contained laughter.
The Doctor and Martha had rushed off, dashing down the hallways, outside, and what seemed to be the direction of the Globe Theatre.
"Come on, Willy!" I grinned, grabbing his hand and following.
The streets curved and twisted, leading to the tall and grand infrastructure of the theatre in front of us. Will led me around back, through the stage door, opening up onstage, the Doctor in the pit, Martha sitting at the edge of the stage, swinging her legs.
"'Let fame, that all hunt after in their lives, live register'd upon our brazen tombs, and then grace us in the disgrace of death; when, spite of cormorant devouring Time, the endeavour of this present breath may buy that honour which shall bate his scythe's keen edge, and make us heirs of all eternity.'" I quoted loudly, William's 'Love's Labour's Lost' in my most dramatic and loud voice, startling everyone.
"Hey- that's mine!!" Shakespeare exclaimed, laughing at the expressions of the two in front of us.
"Not funny, Tessa." The Doctor grumbled bitterly, his faced scrunched up.
"'The words of Mercury are harsh after the songs of Apollo. You, that way: we, this way.'" I smiled, pointing to the columns of the grand building, again quoting 'Love's Labour's Lost'. The Doctor groaned, rubbing his forehead at my antics.
"The columns there, right? 14 sides. I've always wondered but I never asked... tell me, Will, why 14 sides?" The Doctor continued, gesturing to the wonderful columns that I had pointed out.
"It was the shape Peter Streete thought best, that's all. Said it carried the sound well."
"Why does that ring a bell? 14..." The Doctor mumbled.
"There are 14 lines in a sonnet." Martha piped up, causing the Doctor and I to grin madly.
"So there is. Good point. Words and shapes following the same design." He began, pacing back in forth. "14 lines, 14 sides, 14 facets...Oh, my head. Tetra-decagon... think, think, think! Words, letters, numbers, lines!" He rambled.
He needs a bigger head, can't store all that information.
"This is just a theatre."Shakespeare insisted, convinced there was nothing more.
"Oh, but a theatre's magic, isn't it? You should know. Stand on this stage, say the right words with the right emphasis at the right time... Oh, you can make men weep, or cry with joy, change them. You can change people's minds just with words in this place. And if you exaggerate that..." I cut in, rambling loudly, beginning to pace, unconsciously, in tune with the Doctor.
"It's like the Doctor's police box. Small wooden box with all that power inside." Martha followed me with her eyes, turning around to face me.
"Oh. Oh, Martha Jones, I like you. Tell you what, though. Peter Streete would know. Can I talk to him?" I exclaimed, walking up next to her and pulling her to her feet.
"You won't get an answer. A month after finishing this place... lost his mind." I winced at Will's words, knowing where he would be.
"Why? What happened?" Martha questioned, walking to the stage stairs with me.
"Started raving about witches, hearing voiced, babbling. His mind was addled." William sighed emotionally.
"Where is he now?" The Doctor asked, leaning against the stage.
"Bedlam." William shuddered.
"What's Bedlam?" Martha inquired.
"Bethlam Hospital. The madhouse." I quivered, strange images of a terrible place with smelling people, dying of diseases.
"We're gonna go there. Right now. Come on." The Doctor claimed, ignoring the glares Willy and I sent him. He strode out confidently, Martha following quickly afterwards. I quirked an eyebrow at Will, his face paler then usual.
"Wait! We're coming with you. We want to witness this at first hand!" William called after them, automatically including me. I groaned, following the Doctor and Martha outside. "I hate you." I grumbled at the Doctor, resting my head on his shoulder as we walked.
"No you don't."
"Says who?"
"Future you."
"Ah, but I could hate you now."
"You said 'could.'"
"Go away, Doc."
"Nope!" He grinned cheerfully.
"So, tell me of Freedonia, where women can be doctors, writers, actors." Shakespeare appeared, smiling at Martha's side.
"This country's ruled by a woman."
"Ah, she's royal. That's God's business. Though you are a royal beauty." Will flirted, fluttering his eyelashes in an almost mocking way.
"Whoa, Nelly! I know for a fact you've got a wife in the country." Martha stumbled, stopping our reenactment of the Wizard of Oz.
"But Martha, this is town." Will whined.
"Come on. We can all have a good flirt later." The Doctor groaned, hiding his face in my hair.
"Is that a promise, Doctor?" Will grinned broadly.
"Oh, 57 academics just punched the air. Now move!" The Doctor sighed, grabbing my hand and yanking me down the street to Bedlam. There were no people out on the street, the only sounds was the wind and screaming.
The poor men reached out, begging for mercy, their hands being whacked my the jailer.
"Does my lord, Doctor, wish some entertainment while he waits? I'd whip these madmen. They'll put on a good show for ya. Bandog and Bedlam!" The jailer laughed, leading us through the grimy halls.
"No, he does not! How dare you suggest such a thing!" I exploded, bubbling over with anger. The jailer froze, shaking himself from his stupor as quickly as it came.'
"Wait here, my lords, while I make him decent for the ladies." The large and bulky man nodded, scurrying away, the Doctor rubbing soothing circles on my back.
"So this is what you call a hospital, yeah? Where the patients are whipped to entertain the gentry? And you put your friend in here?" Martha demanded, nearly as angry as I was.
"Oh, and it's all so different in Freedonia." Will said sarcastically, grinding his teeth.
"But you're clever! Do you honestly think this place is any good?" Martha continued, clasping his hand in hers.
"I've been mad. I've lost my mind. Fear of this place set me right again. It serves its purpose." Will grumbled, his voice catching.
"Mad in what way?"
"You lost your son." The Doctor whispered softly, leaving us in a moment of silence.
"My only boy. The Black Death took him. I wasn't even there."
"I didn't know. I'm sorry." Martha murmured apologetically, earning my respect more and more with each passing moment.
"It made me question everything. The futility of this fleeting existence. To be or not to be... oh, that's quite good." Will continued, creating one of his most famous lines.
"You should write that down." The Doctor smiled, winking at me in the process.
"Hmm, maybe not. A bit pretentious?"
"This way, m'lord!" The jailer called, his voice mixing in with the pleas for help. Peter Streete's cell was no better then all the others. He stood hunched over, facing away from us, his hair long and greasy. His clothes were matted with blood and dirt, ripped nearly to shreds.
"They cam be dangerous, m'lord. Don't know their own strength." The jailer cautioned, scooting to close to me for comfort. Carefully, I side stepped away from him, my arm pressing up against Will's.
"I think it helps if you don't whip them! Now get out!" The Doctor demanded, seeming to have seen the jailer move closer to me once again. Will rubbed my arms reassuringly, the Doctor looking up at me as he bent down to see Peter. The Doctor quirked an eyebrow, a silent message being sent. Are you okay? I didn't respond, my back iron rod straight.
"Peter? Peter Streete?" The Doctor continued, inching his way to Peter.
"He's the same as he was. You'll get nothing out of him." Will sighed hopelessly.
"Don't give up on people, they may surprise you later on." I rested my head on Will's shoulder, not in a romantic way, but more of a friendly one, he seemed to have understood.
"Peter?" The Doctor laid a hand on Peter's shoulder, tentatively. Peter's head jerked up, staring at the Doctor with wild, glossy eyes, moving his lips, no sound coming out.
"Oh, Peter." Will cried, hugging me closer.
"Shh, it's okay Will. The Doctor can help." I soothed, patting his back softly. Martha looked at me sincerely, not jealously, for the first time in all the time I've known her. I smiled solemnly at her, hiding my face in Will's shoulder. His stench was unbelievably strong, and I lifted my head, my eyes watering, looking once again back at the Doctor. Will released me, our silence pleasant.
"Peter, I'm the Doctor. Go in the past, one year ago. Let your mind go back, back to when everything was fine and shining. Everything that happened this year since happened to somebody else. It was just a story. A winter's tale. Let go. Listen. That's it, just let go. Tell me the story, Peter. Tell me about the witches." The Doctor laid Peter down on the ground, his fingertips on Peter's forehead.
"Witches spoke to Peter. In the night, they whispered. Got Peter to build the Globe to their design. Their design! The 14 walls, always 14. When the work was done, they sapped poor Peter's wits." Peter laughed manically, the Doctor leaning back a bit.
"Where did Peter see the witches? Where in the city? Peter, tell me. You've got to tell me where were they?" The Doctor whispered, once again leaning closer to the poor man before him.
"All Hallows Street."
Suddenly, a Carrionite appeared, in her witch form, her nose long, warts and wrinkles covering her face. Her hair was scarce when she had any, it thin and wispy.
"Too many words." She cackled, the Doctor hopping up next to Martha, horror stricken written across their features.
"What the hell?" Martha demanded, leaning closer to the man with gravity defying hair.
"Just one touch of the heart." The Carrionite gurgled, her voice growing in power. She leaned down, placing her hand on Peter's chest, stopping his heart.
"No!" I wailed, hearing Peter's final scream of pain, quickly ending in silence.
"Witch! I'm seeing a witch!" Will exclaimed, clutching his head in amazement.
"Who would be next, hmm? Just one touch." The Carrionite said menacingly, gliding closer to our little party of four.
"Oh, oh, I'll stop your frantic hearts. Poor, fragile mortals."
"Let us out! Let us out!" Martha cried at the door, hammering at the bars.
"That's not gonna work. The whole building's shouting that." The Doctor wheezed, his eyes shut tight, trying to figure out what this alien was.
"Who will die first, hmm?"
"Well, if you're looking for volunteers." I grinned, stepping forwards out of Will's grasp, ignoring the Doctor's look of pain and confusion. I strode up the hideous creature guardedly.
"No! Don't!" Martha sobbed, surprising me the most. I glanced back at the poor girl, her eyes heavy with the lack of sleep and stress.
"I can stop you." I smirked at the Carrionite, neglecting how I could possibly know this information for a faint moment.
"No mortal has power over me."
"Oh, but there's a power in words. If I can find the right one, which I already do..."
"None on Earth has knowledge of us."
"Well, according to Shakespeare over here, I don't know who I am. And before you get all worked up Willy, it's true, I don't remember the first 16 years of my life. So, I name you, Carrionite!" I exclaimed, beaming. "The 14 stars of the Rexel planetary configuration!" The Doctor cheered, realizing who she was.
The creature wailed and shrieked, disappearing almost as quickly as she came.
"What did you do?" Martha murmured, awed.
'She named her. The power of a name. That's old magic." The Doctor stared at me, seeming to try to figure me out.
""But there's no such thing as magic." Martha said confused, staring at the Doctor blankly.
"Well, it's just a different sort of science. You lot, you chose mathematics. Given the right string of numbers, the right equation, you can split the atom. Carrionites use words instead." The Doctor explained, averting his gaze when he noticed that I knew.
"Use them for what?" Will spoke up, seeming to be out of his initial shock.
"The end of the world." I grinned madly, earning stares of terror from everyone but the Doctor.
"The Carrionites disappeared way back at the dawn of the universe. Nobody was sure if they were real or legend." The Doctor paced in the cell, pulling out his sonic and unlocking the doors, the familiar buzzing sound a comfort.
"Well, I'm going for real." Will winced at the noise, staring at the new contraption in wonder.
"But what do they want?" Martha asked, scurrying out the rusted doors, the straw floor crunching underneath her feet.
"A new empire on Earth. A world of bones and blood and witchcraft." I explained, shivering as I stepped out after her.
"But how?" Martha uttered, glancing back at me.
"I'm looking at the man with the words." The Doctor glanced at Will, going back to looking at me in confusion.
"Me? But I've done nothing." Will insisted, holding up his hands in front of his face.
"Hold on, though. What were you doing last night, when that Carrionite was in the room?" Martha interrogated, arriving at the inn. Slowly, we crept up the stairs, waiting for the two behind us.
"Finishing the play."
"What happens on the last page?" I asked, quirking an eyebrow and running my hands through my thick hair.
"The boys get the girls. They have a but of a dance. It's all as funny and thought provoking as usual, except those last few lines. Funny thing is... I don't actually remember writing them." Shakespeare muttered, rubbing his head.
"That's it. They used you. They gave you the final words. Like a spell, like a code. "Love's Labour's Won", it's a weapon! The right combination of words, spoken at the right place with the shape of the globe as an energy converter! The play's the thing! And yes, you can have that." The Doctor exclaimed, rambling, running past Martha and I at the stairs, reaching Will's room in a flash of fabric.
"All Hallows Street. There it is. Martha, Tessa, we'll track them down. Will, you get to the Globe. Whatever you do, stop that play!" The Doctor pointed to a place on a map on Will's desk, quickly standing up straight and dashing back to the door where Martha and I stood.
"I'll do it. All these years I've been the cleverest man around. Next to you, I know nothing." Will grinned, shaking the Doctor's hand firmly.
"Oh, don't complain." Martha chuckled.
"i'm not. It's marvellous. Good luck, Doctor."
"Good luck, Shakespeare. Once more unto the breach!" The Doctor laughed, quoting Will's work.
"I like that. Wait a minute... that's one of mine." Shakespeare stood flabbergasted as we ducked out the doorways.
"Never stop reading, William Shakespeare." I poked my head back out the door, the urge to say that line unbelievably strong. I seemed to say it as a goodbye. Someone else seemed to as well. Someone, very similar to me.
I sprinted off after the two people ahead of me, following through the twisting streets.
"All Hallows Street, but which house?" The Doctor questioned, looking around at the street with multiple houses on it, their lights off.
"The thing is, though... am I missing something here? The world didn't end in 1599. It just didn't. Look at me, I'm living proof." Martha straightened her clothes, looking at the Doctor.
"Oh, how to explain the mechanics of the infinite temporal flux? I know! "Back to the Future"! It's like "Back to the Future"!" I piped up, appearing between them, startling them.
"The film?" The Doctor quirked an eyebrow, coming closer to me.
"No, the novelization, Yes, the film. Marty McFly goes back and changes history." I said sarcastically, giving the Doctor a look.
"And he starts fading away. Oh my God, am I gonna fade?" Martha realized, clutching her head between her hands.
"Me too, and the entire future of the human race. It ends right now in 1599 if we don't stop it. But which house?" I explained. A door suddenly creaked open, the light inside on. "Ah, make that witch house." I continued, stepping forwards, the Doctor and Martha staying a step behind me as we entered the house.
"I take it we're expected." The Doctor noted, sliding in front of Martha and I in a protective like manner.
"Move it Sand shoes." I grumbled, shoving the Doctor over so I could stand next to him.
"Oh, I think Death has been waiting for you a very long time." The Carrionite cackled, her form human.
"It can wait longer." I growled, words flashing in my vision, words to vaporize her, words to destroy her. Words to save her. The witch scowled at me, her eyes burning with fury.
"Right then, it's my turn. I know how to do this. I name thee, Carrionite!" Martha pointed confidently. The witch was unaffected, staring at Martha. "What did I do wrong? Was it the finger?" Martha continued, glancing at me.
"The power of a name works only once. Observe. I gaze upon this bag of bones and now I name thee Martha Jones." The Carrionite smiled, pointing at Martha with her thin pale finger. Martha collapsed, the Doctor lowering her to the ground carefully, a look of terror on his face.
"What have you done?" The Doctor shouted, a wall of anger and pain clouding his eyes.
"Only sleeping, alas. Curious, the name has less impact. She's somehow out of her time. And as for you, Sir Doctor!" The witch pointed once more, expecting a reaction. He stared at her unfazed, her gaze soon turning to me. "You. It can't be. You can't be here! You died! Left. Leaving a single survivor in your wake. Yes, I recognize you. You're the creature who trapped the Carrionites, and I shall take pleasure in spilling your blood." The alien shrieked and wailed pathetically.
"Finish your sentence to The Doctor, Lilith." I spat having no idea what she was raving on about, her name writing itself before my eyes.
"Why would a man hide his title in such despair?" Lilith snarled, baring her teeth at me.
"How did you escape?" The Doctor continued, ignoring my presence entirely.
"New words. New and glittering from a mind like no other."
"Shakespeare." Silently, I walked over to Martha's limp body, clutching her head in my hands. "Wake up, Martha Jones. The Doctor needs you... I need you." I pleaded, worry carving it's way into my heart.
What if she doesn't wake up?

Author's Note
Hey guys! Another long chapter...

Continuing on...
3k+ reads? WHAT HAS THE WORLD COME TO?!?!?!
And 300+ votes?!?!?!
Thank you so much!

Dedication: TimeladyAlly
Her work(s) are amazing! Her story 'No Way Out' is coming to a close, and personally, I'm very worried... Her writing skills are very mature and wonderful, the plot line is brilliant and entertaining! She's read this story, and has commented on it, and it makes my day every time.
Forewarning: If you do go check out 'No Way out' (which you need to) has somee strong language.
Her story is amazing (Do you have more then one? I need to check) and descriptive, entertaining and worthy of a Moffat award for stress. Please go check her amazing piece of creativity out!
And she better update soon... :);)

IMPORTANT:
My Wattpad app isn't working, and I mainly use the app. I can't open it and access it so I apologize if I haven't been able to read your updates. *frustration courses through veins*
Now, apart from that, does anyone have any good books to read? Preferably a series? I'm in need of a book, any type would be fabulous.
Luv,
-C