Human Nature (Doctor Who)

[Beach Crew]

So...FBF made me post this Honest. I'm not really sure where this idea has come from, although I have a feeling it's probably been done a thousand times before. Basically, from the title, I'm sure you can guess it's just...Human Nature, of season three, however, there's a nice little twist which involves our "beloved" weeping angels and dear sweet Rose. It's very complicated, and it's coming along very slowly, so, well....updates will be far and inbetween.

Original title, I know, lol.

I hope you enjoy, lol. And please tell me if I'm too mean to Martha, lol.

Human Nature - Part One

London, Alternative Earth, 2010

“See you this afternoon Wilf,” Rose Tyler smiled to the kindly doorman as she exited the Torchwood building and stepped out onto the busy street. She’d taken a job at the Torchwood in London not long after she’d been trapped in this world. It wasn’t ideal, but it kept her going.

“Will do, Miss. Tyler,” Wilf smiled, tipping an imaginary hat at her, “Have a good lunch, Miss.”

“You too,” she smiled, and then paused, “An’ tell Mickey if he plans on followin’ me today, not to bother. I’m busy.”

“Right you are, Miss.”

“An’ please, for the last time, call me Rose.”

“Yes, Miss,” the elderly gent grinned playfully.

Rose laughed loudly as she continued walking, waving to Wilf before she headed towards Hyde Park. Of course, it wasn’t called Hyde Park in this world, but she couldn’t think of it by any other name. ‘Fountain Park’ just didn’t sound right. It was fitting, however, due to the number of fountains and statues that decorated the place, but not particularly original.

“A’ight Rosie?”

Rose looked up to see the smiling face of Joe, a typical Cockney geezer, and rather disarmingly handsome to go with it. He ran a small portable café (more like a cart) that was usually parked outside of Fountain Park. Everyday he prepared her usual, a large packet of heavily salted chips.

“Not bad, Joe,” she grinned, accepting the chips and handing over the cash, “What ‘bout you?”

“All the better for seein’ you.”

She rolled her eyes, “Flirt.”

“Aw, you love it really,” he laughed, watching her walk away.

“’Course,” Rose grinned over her shoulder, “Same time tomorrow?”

“It’s a date,” he called, laughing after her.

Of course, they both knew it wasn’t a date. Rose Tyler didn’t date. Everyone in the country, possibly the world, knew that. Since she’d turned up out of the woodworks, the famous Pete Tyler’s mystery daughter, it was clear she was heartbroken over something. And that something stopped her from dating. Joe shook his head as she disappeared out of sight, hoping that one day she’d get over it.

Rose happily ate her chips as she headed to her favourite spot in the park. It was a quiet spot and rather hidden. A crooked sign hung above the entrance way of the area with “Secret Garden” scrawled upon it. Rose always found it ironic – secret was something that nobody knew about. This, however, was just an area off the beaten path and so was rarely visited.

It had started when she’d first arrived in this world. Once she was done ‘mourning’ she’d been invited to work at Torchwood. However, upon her first day at work she’d been asked about Canary Wharf, and she’d bolted. Rose could still remember the utter fear that had shocked her body as she realised she would have to discuss her past. She could still remember the burn of her throat and eyes as she started to cry. And she could still remember running and sobbing until she’d found a place where she was finally alone.

From then, she’d returned to this place whenever she needed comfort or peace, or even just a place to think. Sometimes, Mickey would come with her. After the third or fourth time she’d ran here in tears, he’d followed her and offered her comfort. Rose knew that Mickey always looked at her like she was a porcelain doll, like she would break at any moment. And whilst this was sometimes true, she preferred to come here alone – it was easier that way.

Rose had never liked to cry in front of people.

Today, as Rose stooped under the low hedge way with the “Secret Garden” sign attached to it, she paused to take note of a new statue. It was beautiful - tall and strong but heartbreakingly tragic. A weeping angel. Rose frowned up at it, “Angels shouldn’t cry,” she whispered, noting the hands covering its eyes, “Kinda fittin’ though. You’re in my cryin’ spot but you’re still keeping it a secret,” she paused, “An’ now I’m talkin’ to a statue.”

I’m talking to a twig.

Rose smiled fondly at the memory that invaded her thoughts. He was always on her mind when she came here – making her laugh, making her cry, making her angry. It didn’t matter though, she just needed to think of him. Rose had promised him forever, and if that meant pretending she was fine, then so be it.

It was difficult, moving on from the Doctor, but Rose had a good life. It wasn’t fantastic, but she tried her best. Still, she hadn’t given up hope. She, Mickey and their friend Jake were constantly working on projects that could get her safely back across the void. It hurt, each time a project failed, but she’d never give up. God how she missed him.

She hoped he missed her, but Rose worried, that if (when) they met up again he’d be disappointed in what she’d become. She was no longer the naive little girl from the Powell Estate. Rose Tyler, 24 (although 21 really) was now one of the strongest and most formidable defenders of their earth. She always had a gun to hand, ready to fight and no longer afraid to kill. It wasn’t her choice, and she hated herself for it, but this world, it was so different to her own, so much more dangerous – it was kill or be killed.

Rose looked up from the bench she was sat on and frowned. Was it her imagination or had the angel statue moved closer? She shook her head, laughing, and popped another chip in her mouth. She didn’t notice that the angel no longer had its eyes hidden behind its hands.

Hearing a noise, Rose looked up again and was startled to find that the angel statue was now in front of her. Standing, but not leaving go of her chips, Rose circled the statue, looking for strings. “Alrigh’, very funny. You got me.”

No answer.

Turning her back on the statue to look behind a bush, Rose frowned. Her Torchwood Sense, as she’d named it, was tingling and making her right hand twitch towards her plasma gun. “Mickey, is this you? It’s not very funny. I told ya not to follow me today,” she called, but she was unable to keep the shaky quality out of her voice.

No answer.

Turning, Rose shrieked as she found herself almost face to face with the angel statue, it was staring at her almost angrily. “What are you?” she asked, looking for any sign of life. Walking backwards slowly, chips scattering on the floor between them, Rose kept her eyes focused on the statue. Then she blinked.

It was in front of her again and so, panicked, Rose raised her gun – pointing it at the statues face. “Alrigh’, stop it. By command of Torchwood you will stop and tell me who you are,” no answer, “You leave me no choice but to shoot you if you do not respond.”

She blinked again.

Rose screamed as she felt a horrible, cold hand land on her shoulder, which in turn caused her to pull the trigger on her gun. For a second, she thought she’d been hit by a transmat beam as she felt herself being ripped through the air.

Then, just as suddenly, everything went black.

***

Somewhere in the Time Vortex, Original World


Martha Jones struggled up from the floor as she watched the Doctor in fear. The TARDIS console was sparking and smoking and it did not look good. She was terrified. The Doctor grabbed her hand, pulling her to her feet, “Did they see you?” he asked frantically.

“I don’t know,” she shrieked, “I was too busy running.”

He frowned, “Martha, this is very important. Did they see your face?”

She thought, struggling, “No, I don’t think so. They can’t have.”

The Doctor nodded, his face relaxing slightly, and then he started pressing buttons on the console. For a few seconds, it seemed everything was going to be ok, then there was a loud beeping noise, “No, no!” the Doctor cried, “They’re following us!”

Martha looked at him, alarmed, “How can they do that? This is a time machine!”

The Doctor didn’t even look at her, he was frantically pulling on handles and pressing buttons – only he knew that nothing was working. “Stolen technology, they've got a Time Agent's vortex manipulator,” he sighed, “They’ll be able to follow us wherever we go, anywhere we go and all across the universe,” he suddenly looked horrified, “they’re never going to stop.”

Martha came to stand beside him watching nervously as he ran his hands through his hair. He looked so frightened, and that led to her terror. “Doctor?”

He frowned, “Unless, oh,” he looked at Martha, “I'll have to do it.”

“Do what?”

He took her by the shoulders, looking her directly in the eyes, “Martha, do you trust me?”

She smiled tightly, but couldn’t conceal her fear, “Of course I do.”


“Cause it all depends on you.”

No pressure then, Martha thought. She watched as he ducked under the TARDIS console and started pulling things out. “Doctor, what am I supposed to do?” she questioned, panic clear in her voice.

The Doctor appeared holding a beautiful pocket watch, “Take this watch,” he said, pressing it into her palm, “My life depends on it. My watch, Martha, this watch, it’s so important. The watch is-”

***

As yet, unknown time and location

Rose Tyler opened her eyes slowly, expected to see the angel statue, or some equally terrifying creature towering above her. Instead, she found herself in an open field. Struggling to her feet and brushing dirt from her jeans, she looked around cautiously.

She screamed suddenly and fired her gun, destroying the creature that had been lurking behind her.

Rose frowned and coughed when she was suddenly clouded in a haze of dust and straw. Peering at the remains of the creature Rose laughed suddenly, she’d just blown up a scarecrow. “Get a grip, Tyler,” she chastised herself. Rifling in her handbag, she pulled out her phone – ‘No service’.

“Now there’s a surprise.”

Assessing the situation again, she knew she needed to get to the nearest town and phone for help, and warn Torchwood that there was an angel statue alien that could teleport people lurking somewhere in Hyde, sorry, Fountain Park. She frowned, they were so going to make her see that shrink again.

Stumbling over what she presumed were potato plants, Rose made her way to the edge of the field and out onto the dirt road. A wooden sign informed her that the town centre was seventeen miles away – Rose swore loudly but set off walking, swearing again as it started to rain.

She hadn’t been walking long when she came across a mail box at the end of a long drive – it had to lead to a farm. There was a rolled up newspaper poking out of the mail box and so she grabbed it, hoping to work out where she was. She scanned the headlines, confused, and then dropped the paper in shock when she read the date.

Farringham, Herefordshire, England, 1913.

“Oh hell.”

....to be continued.

[firebreathingfishies]

Oh wicked! That's a really good idea actually, I haven't seen anyone else come up with that! And brilliantly done too. I love your portrayl of Rose, it's brilliant And was that Donna's grandad at the begining? Oh you have to keep posting this, even if it's just for me to read! I love it already!

[monster-eats-pilot]

Ah Beaches that's brilliant
Although you've added chips in again just when I'm hungry

[Beach Crew]

Aww, thank you. I'm glad you like it! And ha, I spend most my time writing Rose, and so I'm glad you like the way I write her. She's a bit weepy and hystrical atm (but I mean, who wouldn't be when you realise you're trapped in 1913, lol), but she's a lot tougher than original Rose. And of course it was! Alternative Wilf! Like I couldn't not use him Thank you, I'm working on it like a madwoman, so who knows what'll appear tomorrow.

I'm so glad you like it. I feel better now, lol.

Mep - Thank you! I'm so glad people like it. I have a complex when it comes to writing these things. It's complicated mind...

And lol, I know - but Rose and Chips go together like...well, the Doctor and Rose

[monster-eats-pilot]

It's Doctor Who it's all good


Can't wait for more now

[esn]

That were ace! I cant wait for more. It makes sense, - alternative world, alternative blink, alternative Wilf. Brilliant.

[Beach Crew]

Thanks esn, much appreciated They'll be an update soon if someone could answer me this one quick question.

Ok, so, people that have actually seen this episode, the Doctor and Nurse Redfern, and all those folk, they work at the school with Martha as a maid, yes? Do they also live at the school? Coz I know Martha brings the Doctor breakfast in bed?

If you don't know, would it be fine if I made them live in the school?

[monster-eats-pilot]

Beaches it's your story I don't think it matters
(In other words yes I've seen that episode but can't remember)

[firebreathingfishies]

Yeah I'm pretty sure they do live in the school... the kids do, that much I'm sure of

[Beach Crew]

Well, I'm very glad to hear that, coz it means...well, I don't have to change several chapters. If you're lucky, and my internet connection holds *grumbles* I'll be updating this with this message. So, without further ado, lol.....

Oh, and this is the first time I've written Martha, so....well, I've tried to be nice, and I hope I did ok, lol.

Human Nature - Part Two

Farringham School, Herefordshire, Original World, 1913


Martha Jones grumbled to herself as she struggled up the stairs in her maid’s uniform, carrying a heavy tray of food. Stopping outside a door, she paused and somehow managed to manoeuvre one hand so that she was able to knock on the door. “Come in,” a voice called.

Stepping inside, she was greeted by the Doctor’s smiling face, only it wasn’t the Doctor – this was Mr. John Smith. She gasped suddenly, realising the man was still in his pyjamas and so turned away from him quickly, “Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Smith, you’re not dressed yet. I’ll come back later.”

He stopped her, pulling on a dressing gown, “No, it’s quite alright – put it down.”

Martha nodded, mentally reminding herself to kick him as soon as he was back to normal, and then set the tray down on a table in the middle of the room. The Doctor, sorry, Mr. Smith, was watching her curiously. She turned to him, her eyebrows raised.

“Sorry, sorry,” he coughed, embarrassed, “It’s just…sometimes, I have these extraordinary dreams.”

As Martha pulled open the curtains, she felt a rush of hope, “Really, what about, sir?”

He frowned thoughtfully, “I dream I’m this, this adventurer. A daredevil, or perhaps a madman,” he laughed, “The Doctor, that’s what I’m called, and, um, last night…I dreamt that you were there, as my…my companion.”

Martha tried to remain calm, “A teacher and a housemaid, sir?” she teased, “That’s impossible.”

“Perhaps, but in another world…”

Martha smiled, “Well it can’t be true, can it, because there’s no such thing?”

The Doctor nodded and moved to stand by his fireplace, picking up the pocket watch that was sitting there. This time, Martha’s stomach really did lurch, “This thing, this watch…” he paused, and Martha thought she was going to be sick – her blood was pounding in her ears. However, he returned it to its position and Martha had to stop herself from sighing.

He laughed suddenly, an almost wistful quality to his tone, “Isn’t it funny how quickly dreams slip away?” she nodded, busying herself with cleaning, “I do remember one thing, however, it took place in the future – in the year two thousand and seven.”

Martha smiled at him tightly, “I can prove you wrong there, sir,” she handed him the morning paper, “It’s Friday, November seventh, nineteen thirteen,” she paused, not able to meet his eye, “And you’re completely human, sir. As human as they come.”

John Smith nodded, distracted by the paper, “Yup, that’s me. Completely human.”

Martha excused herself and stepped outside of the room, only when the door was closed did she allow herself the few shaky breaths that she’d been holding in tightly. Her eyes burned with unshed tears but she knew she couldn’t let this get the better of her. He needed her. The Doctor needed her.

And by God, she needed him.

***