The night was warm and the faint aroma of honeysuckle lazed in the air. The sky was carpeted in stars, dwarfed only by the huge, beautiful cream-colored moon that hung in the sky at half wane. Crickets chirruped in the grass and a cool mountain breeze sliced through the summer heat at pleasant intervals. The Doctor followed a rocky pathway through the night. A stream babbled along one side of him, and calf-length grass swayed on the other. The hotel loomed in the distance, his TARDIS and Turlough far beyond that. He was alone, as he rarely was, and found that he enjoyed the solitude.
Trees materialized out of the darkness, casting shade from the moonlight. Nocturnal birds sang as he passed beneath their branches. The evening was beautiful, as well as peaceful, and enjoyable though the solitude was, he did regret he had no one to share it with. It had been Turlough’s idea to holiday at Barcelona, and now he was missing its splendor.
The hair along the back of his neck suddenly prickled on end just before his ears picked up the sound of soft footsteps behind him. “Ah, Turlough,” he said with a smile as he turned around. “How funny; I was just thinking about you.”
His smile evaporated as he found himself faced to a slight figure clad in black. There was distance enough between them that the Doctor didn’t feel threatened, but there was malicious intent in the air. “Who are you?” he demanded.
“He said you wouldn’t recognize me.”
“Well how can I recognize you? I can barely see you.”
“We were friends, once.”
“What happened?” the Doctor asked, sounding genuinely concerned.
“You let me die.”
Adric stepped out from beneath the tree he’d been hiding behind, letting the moonlight illuminate his face. It was clear, at first, that the Doctor still didn’t recognize him. The dark clothes hid his frame, and the Master had cut his hair, so the fringe that had been on his brow was now swept back. “Impossible! Adric?” the Doctor whispered, his tone disbelieving.
“How soon we forget,” Adric replied. “How have you been, Doctor? Enjoying your holiday?”
The Doctor closed the distance between them in a few long strides. He grasped Adric’s arm tightly, squeezing it as though to see if he were actually real. “Not an android or duplicate?” he asked, turning Adric so the feeble light shone on his face even better. “It’s not possible.”
Adric wrenched his arm out of the Doctor’s grasp. “It is possible, and you never even tried,” he instantly accused. “Why did you never try?”
“Adric, I,” the Doctor began, but trailed off. He couldn’t process what he was seeing, and here on Barcelona, of all places. It had to be a trick of the planet, some sort of illusion.
“I’m real!” Adric shouted. His voice was so loud that the birds roosting in the nearby trees stirred and took off. “It’s me, and I’m really here, no thanks to you. I want an explanation, Doctor.” He paused in his tirade as his voice had cracked and he seemed on the verge of tears. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself, reining in his emotions. “I want to know why you never came back for me. Why you were content to let me die.”
“‘Content’?” the Doctor echoed, incredulous. “Adric, I was never content to let you die. There was nothing I could do!”
“You have a time machine!” he railed. “Don’t tell me what you couldn’t do! Clearly you could have, because here I am!”
“Adric,” the Doctor said, then more sternly. “Adric!” He grasped the boy by his shoulders, holding him still. Adric looked up at him, unshed tears glistening in his eyes. In a much more gentle voice, he said, “There are time laws that not even I can break. They would destroy you.” The Doctor was clearly stunned by the fact that Adric was even able to stand before him.
Adric’s jaw trembled as he stared up into the Doctor’s familiar face. He struggled with his emotions, trying to keep himself from crying. At last, he wrenched himself away. “You couldn’t save me, but you could wipe out the vampires from the Wasting? You could free the Tharil slaves and let Romana go, despite the fact it was against the law to do so? You could interfere with the choosing of the new Keeper of Traken? Doctor, everything you do is breaking a law.” Despite himself, the tears in his eyes spilled over, streaming down his cheeks. “What right have you to bring those Earthlings from that cave on Earth to the freighter ship so they can die at the hands of the Cybermen? How is that not breaking the law? How can you rescue a 17th century Earthling but be all right with letting me die?” It was clear Adric wanted to keep going, but his throat had constricted as emotions overtook him, and he stopped before his voice broke and he came apart completely.
Reaching into his pocket, the Doctor with drew a handkerchief and handed it to Adric. “I’m sorry,” he said in a simple tone. “I’m so sorry, Adric.”
Adric refused to take the offered handkerchief, instead just staring accusingly up at the Doctor. “I hate you,” he finally spat.
Affronted, the Doctor straightened his shoulders. “Be fair, Adric.”
“No, it’s true. I wish I’d never stowed away on your TARDIS.”
Sensing that he was moments away from losing Adric entirely, the Doctor switched tactics. “How are you even here?” he asked. “It’s preposterous. And how did you know I was here? We’ve only just arrived this morning.”
Adric wiped the back of his hand against his eyes, brushing his tears away. At the action, the Doctor finally put his handkerchief away. “I don’t know why I ought to bother telling you that, when you can’t even give me a straight answer.”
Stepping forward, the Doctor fixed his gaze on Adric and said, “I have been haunted every single day since your death. It’s my fault you were in such a place to die to begin with. If I had thought it was possible at all to save you, I would have tried. But it just wasn’t possible. You have to understand that.”
Adric focused on him, studying the Doctor’s face in the darkness. Clearly not liking what he saw, he shook his head slowly. “You changed, Doctor. I thought you liked me, and then you changed. I risked my life so you could get away just after you regenerated, and you didn’t even notice I was missing. Not for days.”
“That was a very traumatic regeneration for me, Adric. I found you as soon as I could.”
“It wasn’t soon enough! How many lives did I contribute to killing?”
“None of the Castrovalvans were real, Adric,” the Doctor tried to explain.
Adric finally shrugged back, stepping away from the Doctor. “You don’t even understand,” he replied. “How could I expect you to understand?”
His tone suddenly serious, the Doctor said in a stern voice, “Adric, you must tell me everything. How you were rescued, who brought you here, how you knew where I was. It’s very important. The very fabric of time may depend on it.”
“Why, so you can go on the run again? Maybe it’s time you were caught, Doctor. Maybe it’s time you faced your charges.”
Shaking his head, the Doctor gripped Adric’s arm again. “Who told you that?” His tone was tense.
Summoning his strength, Adric laughed. “So it’s true,” he gasped, pulling his arm away from the Doctor. “I was saved for a reason, Doctor. Pity I can never let you know what it is.” He turned then and took off, running toward the hotel.
For a moment, the Doctor watched him go, half expecting the figure to disappear into the ether. It wouldn’t have been the first time he’d experienced Adric berating him for not coming to his rescue. The previous times it had been dreams during his sleep; if Barcelona had some sort of tourist attraction that made dreams reality, he wouldn’t have been surprised. It would have made so much more sense than the alternative: that somehow, against all possible logic, Adric had survived or been rescued from the freighter.
But Adric didn’t vanish. His form got harder to see as his black outfit melded into the dark night, but he was still just as solid. Unwilling to let the boy slip from him again, he took off at last, chasing after him.
Adric was young and limber and a better runner than the Doctor. He had little hope to catch up with him, until he saw Adric stumble and fall to his knees. The strangled cry the boy gave caused the Doctor’s hearts to stir in anxiousness. Adric was hurt.
He arrived to find Adric wrenching one of his boots off. In the darkness it was hard to make out, but he was fairly certain Adric’s shin was bleeding. “You’re hurt,” he said, dropping to his knees before the boy. It took only a second of exanimation to determine that the cut had not been caused from the fall. “This is a burn,” the Doctor breathed. Looking up into the boy’s face sharply, he asked. “Adric, how long ago were you rescued from the freighter?”
Wincing at his burn, but unwilling to answer the Doctor, Adric just sat there. “What do you care?”
“Has it only been a few hours?” he asked. “Adric, you must tell me who brought you here!” As he spoke, he withdrew his handkerchief again. “Let’s wrap this up, then I’ll get you some proper medical help,” he added. His hand reached out toward Adric’s leg.
In a flash, Adric had leaned forward, deftly pulling the dinner knife he’d stolen from the Master’s table out from his pocket. He had the blade pressed to the Doctor’s throat in a manner of seconds. His eyes glittered coldly as he met the Doctor’s gaze. “No.”
The Doctor stiffened, aware he was now in a dire strait. Adric was not unskilled with a knife, and was clearly distraught. The Doctor’s features softened. “Would killing me help?” he asked coolly. “My life for yours?” He took his hands from Adric’s leg, resting them on his own knees. Smiling sadly, he closed his eyes. “I’d gladly make the exchange,” he said, with no hesitation.
“Give me one good reason why I shouldn’t,” Adric replied.
Feeling the blade press harder into his throat, the Doctor opened his eyes, meeting Adric’s own again. “You’re not a killer,” he said simply.
“What if I am?” Adric whispered.
Calmly, the Doctor said, “You’re not.” Reaching up slowly, he wrapped his fingers around Adric’s wrist, gently pulling his hand and the knife, away from his throat. “Whatever happened to you, I know that much hasn’t changed.” He folded Adric’s hands into his lap, hiding the knife, but not taking it from him. “I trust you,” he said. “Do the same for me.”
Shaking his head, Adric said, “I can’t.” Tears still leaked from his eyes.
The Doctor only smiled a sad smile, aching to the core. “Then I can only hope that in time you’ll learn to again.”
Despite being in obvious pain, Adric pulled away, drawing himself to his feet. “How could I ever trust you again, Doctor? How can I trust anyone?” He staggered even where he stood, favoring his bootless leg, but clearly both bothered him. “I should be dead because of you.”
The Doctor rose to his feet too, ever so slowly as the weight of the universe seemed to settle on his shoulders. He nodded gravely. “You should be, not because I didn’t tempt time and fate and physics to save you from the impossible, but because the Marsh Men on Alzarius would have undoubtedly killed you if you hadn’t boarded the Starliner. You saved yourself by coming with me, and I am glad for it.”
Adric studied the Doctor in the pale moonlight. He had eaten food and drank water since his ordeal on the freighter, but he had not yet rested. For a time he had been revitalized on the Master’s TARDIS, but now his weariness was coming back. The throbbing of his burns as his body fought to heal itself was draining his energy. The figure before him kept blurring. “Doctor, I’m tired.”
“Come on, I’ve got a room back at the hotel.” The Doctor’s voice was kind, and he offered a helping hand.
Adric shook his head. “I can’t go with you.” He looked over his shoulder, back at the trees.
The Doctor followed his gaze, peering into the darkness intently. “Adric, who brought you here?” he asked again. “You’re in danger every minute you keep it from me, and I can help you, if you tell me.”
Adric’s eyes fluttered closed as he felt a flush of faintness wash over him. “I’ll show you,” he said weakly. Forcing his eyes open, he pushed himself forward, walking back in the direction he’d run from. “This way.”
The Doctor didn’t follow, just stood there, watching Adric take a few steps. It was clear, within seconds, that Adric wasn’t going to last. He stumbled once, and then the Doctor went after him, catching him just before the boy would have hit the ground.
Scooping the boy up into his arms, the Doctor cast a dark look into the darkness and trees again. There was a cold, strange chill in the air, and he turned his back on it. Adjusting his grip on Adric, holding him tighter, he shifted the unconscious boy in his arms and started back toward the hotel.
--
“Doctor! There you are!” Turlough shouted. He was across the elaborate hotel courtyard, looking agitated. He started toward the Doctor, before drawing to a halt, seeing the injured man in the Doctor’s arms.
Adric had begun to regain consciousness during the trip to the hotel, and now clung to the Doctor’s neck to help support himself. His thoughts were fevered and he felt he’d misplaced something, but he couldn’t focus his attention enough on anything to be sure of what.
“Who is that?” Turlough asked, finally closing the distance between the two of them.
“He’s hurt,” came the Doctor’s tense reply. He shouldered past Turlough, heading through the open double doors into the hotel lobby. It was evening, but guests still mingled about the spacious downstairs. Several turned their gaze to watch the spectacle of a man carrying a body past them. The Doctor ignored them, approaching the concierge desk quickly. “Do you have an infirmary? He needs medical help.”
“Doctor, what’s going on?” Turlough demanded.
“This is Adric,” the Doctor hastily explained. “Can’t you see he’s hurt?” Turning back to the main desk, seeing he was largely being ignored, the Doctor lashed out, kicking it fiercely. “What does it take to get some service here!”
One of the men behind the counter finally responded, hurrying to them from around front. “This way, please,” he said, gesturing toward a hall that led to the back.
The Doctor got the distinct impression he was being ushered out of sight because he was making a scene, but he followed the man anyway. He was led through double doors that opened onto what he guessed was an employee break room. Just before disappearing inside, he turned back, found Turlough staring uncertainly at him, and nodded to make sure that he’d follow.
As the Doctor deposited Adric on the couch in the break room, the concierge twisted his hands together. “What seems to be the problem, sir?”
The Doctor was already carefully working Adric’s other boot off. He dropped it to the floor and carefully pushed the trouser legs up, revealing the angry red burns on Adric’s thighs. “He’s burnt,” he lamented. “There may be more.” He shifted, moving to roll up Adric’s sleeves. “I would have thought these would have healed by now,” he breathed.
Seeing the injuries caused the concierge to straighten up. “I will call for a doctor immediately.” He turned to go.
“Send someone in here with a cold compress,” the Doctor ordered, not taking his eyes off Adric. The boy hadn’t quite lost consciousness again, but sweat stood beaded on his brow and his skin was ashen.
“I’ll get it,” Turlough replied, darting back out of the room.
“Come on, Adric, you’ve got to help me. Are these burns from the freighter?” the Doctor asked. “Adric, listen! Focus on me and answer my question.”
With obvious difficulty, Adric opened his eyes, focusing them on the Doctor. He blinked once, and nodded. “Everything’s so far away,” he slurred. “I feel hot.”
“We’ve got to get you out of these clothes,” the Doctor advised. “They’re just aggravating your burns. Do you remember if anything hit you when you were on the freighter? Did you touch any electrical wires?”
Adric slowly shook his head. “No, Doctor.”
Turlough ran back into the room in a flurry, carrying a soft white washrag soaked in cold water. He immediately knelt beside the Doctor, handing over the rag wordlessly.
“Thank you,” the Doctor said, placing it on Adric’s right leg, which was the most severely burned. “See if you can’t round up some more of those. He’s burned on all his extremities.”
Adric let out a low moan of discomfort as the pain settled in.
The Doctor found his hand, squeezing it. “Hang on, Adric. I’m here, and help is on the way.”
--
Hours later, Adric awoke with a start. He felt sticky and hot, but much of his pain had subsided. It was still dark outside, and the lights in the room were turned off. He was dimly aware he was no longer in the hotel’s employee break room, but nothing about the room felt like a hospital. The bed beneath him felt large and soft, there were gossamer curtains over the window, and there was sound of someone breathing beside him.
He shifted, to sit up, and the sheet lightly draped over him slid off; it was made of some sort of silken material and was cool to the touch.
As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he soon made out the form of the Doctor. The man appeared to have collapsed into an armchair near the window and fallen asleep. The room Adric was now in was large and beautifully decorated. Though he seemed to remember seeing the Doctor’s red-haired companion, he saw no sign of the other man now.
Trying to sit up, Adric found he was striped to the waist. His burns had been attended to again, this time very lightly covered with soft, flimsy gauze. Pushing the sheet back to reveal his legs, he found they were treated in a similar fashion. He wore very loose fitting silken shorts that weren’t long enough to aggravate his burns. To his left, on the nightstand, he found a bowl of water, and a tall clear pitcher. He found a glass nearby and filled it with water from the pitcher, then drank his fill.
The subtle clinking of glass roused the Doctor, and Adric watched as his shadowy form stirred, them came immediately alert as he realized he’d dozed off. “Adric?” the Doctor asked into the darkness.
“I’m here,” he said in a soft, almost sullen voice.
“How are you feeling?” The Doctor rose from the armchair he’d been in, crossing over to Adric. He gingerly sat down on the edge of the bed.
Adric took a moment to notice how disheveled the Doctor appeared. The coat he usually wore was draped over the back of the armchair, and the sleeves of his jumper and dress shirt were pushed back to the elbows. “Better,” he admitted, setting his glass back on the nightstand. Looking at his injured legs, he added, “Why is it taking so long?”
“To heal?” The Doctor unconsciously smoothed the sheet out beneath his fingertips. “I don’t know. I’m too unfamiliar with the Alzarian genomic construct. Perhaps your burns were too extensive for your rapid healing to have a total effect. Perhaps being in N-Space has slowed them.”
Adric didn’t say anything. For a time, he just rubbed his fingers against the satin of the sheets, absently enjoying the smooth sensation of the glide of the fabric. “Are you mad at me?” he asked at last.
“Have I a reason to be?” the Doctor said.
Adric stared at him. “I tried to kill you!”
That caused the Doctor to look up at him and smile. “Seems almost a prerequisite amongst my friends.”
Adric made a face. “Must not be very good friends,” he noted.
The Doctor just smiled and didn’t say anything. Instead, he studied Adric’s face in the darkness, illuminated only by the faintest bit of starlight from outside; the moon had long ago set. Adric sat very still, watching the Doctor watch him in wonder. After a few moments of silence, the Doctor reached out and touched the tips of Adric’s hair fondly. “Not even a day off the freighter and you already managed to get a haircut?” he asked casually.
Adric straightened his back against the sudden chill that threatened to course through him. “He thought it’d make me look older,” he said with a shrug. “I happen to agree.”
The Doctor nodded, tilting his head as he let his hand drop. “ ‘He’ who?”
Adric lowered his eyes to stare at the way the feeble light reflected on the soft sheets. He didn’t answer at all, instead changing the topic. “Do you know why I initially stowed away on the TARDIS?” he quietly asked.
Sighing softly, the Doctor shook his head. “I’m sure it wasn’t my good looks.”
That caused Adric to look up at the Doctor, smiling slightly. The Doctor met Adric’s grin with one of his own and Adric immediately lowered his eyes again, letting his smile fade. “It was because, all of my life, I’ve felt like an outsider on my own world. I didn’t fit in with my brother and the Outlers, and I was too smart for the Starliner. I wore my mathematics badge with pride, but it was almost more a mark of separation than anything. Other students didn’t like me, and to be honest, I didn’t like them.” He pulled the sheets back up over his legs, twisting them in his fingers. “Then I met you and Romana and I thought . . . these are people like me. They’re brilliant and beautiful and travelers and, oh,” he took a deep breath and sighed romantically. “It just all seemed so glamorous. I wanted so badly to live that life, with you. I couldn’t bear the thought of being left behind.”
“You could have asked,” the Doctor warmly said.
Adric glanced up at him. “You would have said no.”
“Maybe,” he agreed. “But it still would have been the right thing to do.”
Adric stared back down at his lap. “I was such a terrible burden to you, Doctor,” he confessed. “I bungled everything up and must have been such a tedious bore. I thought I was a wonder to behold, but I must have been nothing more than just a foolish child to you. I still don’t know why you didn’t take me back to the Starliner after all.”
Sighing, the Doctor leaned back. He turned his head, looking out the window, focusing on the stars as he contemplated his words. “When I thought about it, I realized you didn’t have much to go back to. A mind like yours, not one that I considered a foolish childish mind, was undoubted better suited to travels with me than rotting away on a derelict Starliner bound for destination Nowhere.” He shrugged a bit. “I was something of a loner as a child myself, actually.” He glanced at Adric, to see how he’d take that bit of revelation and smiled at the surprised expression he saw. “It’s true. I suppose that’s why I roam the universe, now. I was never happy on Gallifrey, never fit in, and longed to leave. It’s a rare trait amongst my people and was not looked upon very kindly.” He folded his hands in his lap. “That’s the Prydonians for you,” he added, turning to face Adric again with a smile. “I suppose I saw a bit of myself in you, and I thought we could help each other. I did like you, and very much, whatever you may have thought.”
Adric lowered his eyes again. “I thought so too, at first. When Romana left I thought . . . well, you taught me about a lot of things, and I enjoyed that time immensely.”
“It’s no secret to me that you were fonder of my previous regeneration,” the Doctor said.
Adric shook his head. “It’s not that. It’s just, when you regenerated there was Tegan and Nyssa and . . . and I liked them, eventually, but it was different. I had felt, for a few weeks at least, that I belonged, really and truly, there on the TARDIS, with you. And then you changed, and they came and everything was different. When they came, I felt I was an outsider again. You had treated me like an equal, but when Tegan arrived, she treated me like just a boy, and you started to too.”
“I’m truly sorry for that Adric, it wasn’t intentional. I envisioned you staying with me on the TARDIS for years, and I thought Tegan would only stay a few days. It seemed like I’d have ages to be with you, so I spent more time with them. You were like a permanent fixture on the TARDIS to me.”
“It didn’t seem like it. Sometimes it felt like you forgot who I was at all. I started to hate being there.”
“Yes. I remember our fight, when you said you wanted to go home. It never occurred to me that you might someday wish to leave.” He laughed very softly. “That’s my one lick of vanity, I suppose. I could have tried to take you back. I’ll admit that I didn’t try. It wouldn’t have been easy and I might have killed us all in the process, but the truth is, I just didn’t want you to go.”
“The others did,” Adric said with a soft certainty. “Tegan never liked me.”
“That isn’t true,” the Doctor said. “We all wept when we saw the freighter explode.”
“You wept?” Adric asked, surprised.
“Yes. Not right away, but in my own time. I felt greatly responsible for your death.” He smiled suddenly. “It’s so strange to speak of that in such a past tense. Adric, how wonderful it is you’ve been saved. I don’t even care how. It’s marvelous to see you.”
Adric smiled, but it faded before long. He was thinking again about the Doctor not even trying to save him, and about the Master’s words. “Are you really seven-hundred years old?” he asked suddenly.
The question brought a look of surprise to the Doctor’s face. Outside, the sky began to blush with the oncoming dawn. “Around that, yes,” he said cautiously. “Where’d you find that information out?”
“I really must seem like a child to you, then,” he said instead of answering.
“Nonsense,” the Doctor said. Then, as if considering, he added, “How old are you, anyway?”
Adric looked up at him, smiling sadly. “Old enough to die.”
The Doctor opened his mouth to reply, but shut it as the hotel room door opened. Both he and Adric turned to look at the intruder. Adric was impassive, but the Doctor positively beamed.
“Ah, good morning Turlough!” He rose from the bed, rolling down his sleeves as he did.
Turlough nodded to the Doctor, but then fixed his eyes on Adric in the bed. Adric rather quickly pulled the sheets back up to his chest. “Morning, Doctor,” he said, finally dragging his gaze away. He had in his hands a small package, which he handed over.
“Ah, thank you,” the Doctor said, accepting it. “Adric, this is Turlough,” he said as he set the package down on the desk in the room. “Turlough, Adric.”
“Hello,” Adric said.
Turlough crossed his arms, looking Adric over carefully. “We’ve met. Last night.”
“Of course,” Adric replied, his tone sharp.
The Doctor looked up from what he was doing, straightening. Intervening between the two young men, he brought the package to Adric. “I had Turlough bring over a few of your things. Seeing as how you’re going to be cooped up in bed most of the day, I thought you might like some of your books to read. I hope they’re suitable.”
Adric took them without looking at them. “Thank you. Where are Tegan and Nyssa?”
The Doctor sat back down on the edge of the bed, clearly considering his words carefully. “It’s been months since our encounter with the Cybermen, Adric. Tegan and Nyssa have both gone home.”
“Traken was destroyed,” Adric stated.
The Doctor nodded. “Nyssa found a calling on a space station named Terminus. She opted to stay on there as . . . as a medical advisor, of sorts.”
“And him?” he asked, nodding toward Turlough. “Where’s he from?”
“The Doctor liberated me from Earth, where I’d been stranded,” Turlough supplied quickly. Then he said, “Doctor? Can I speak with you a moment?”
“Of course.” The Doctor rose to his feet, folded his hands behind his back and turned his full attention to Turlough.
Scowling, Turlough inclined his head away from the bed. “In private?” he added.
“Oh.” Smiling at Adric, the Doctor said, “One moment please.”
Turlough took him by the arm, dragging him to the far side of the hotel room. “We’ve gotten some very strange readings on the TARDIS scanner.” Off the Doctor’s surprised face, Turlough added, “I tried to tell you last night, but you were too preoccupied.”
“Why do you feel the need to conceal this from Adric? He’s traveled with me before.”
Turlough cast a dark look to Adric on the bed, and then angled his body, so Adric’s view would be obscured. “I went to find his boot, like you asked. Mind, I don’t like being your errand boy, but I found this, too.” Out of his pocket, he withdrew the knife Adric had assaulted the Doctor with last night. “Interesting, isn’t it?”
“Yes, very,” the Doctor said, taking it. He studied it for a moment. Flipping it over, he peered at the handle. Suddenly he patted himself down, until he found his reading glasses. Once he slipped them on, he peered even closer at the knife. “That’s the Seal of Rassilon.”
“What?” Turlough asked.
“Nothing, never mind.” Slipping the knife and glasses back into his trouser pockets, he said, “Tell me about these strange scans.”
--
Adric watched the two of them as they talked quietly together over in the far corner of the room. He had opened one of the Psychology books that the Doctor’s friend had brought for him, but it held very little interest to him. He couldn’t get over the intense feeling of dislike he got from Turlough. The Doctor’s ease at excluding him again grated on him as well.
Still, when the two finished their chat and turned back to him, he smiled at them. The Doctor’s face seemed concerned, but he returned the smile. Adric was aware of just how warily Turlough eyed him.
“Well,” the Doctor said. “You must be starved.”
Adric glanced to the window, aware that the sun was rising properly and it would soon be full morning. “I am a bit hungry,” he admitted.
“As am I,” the Doctor said. “Tell me what you like and Turlough and I will nip down stairs and bring it up for you.”
“Of course,” Adric said in a plain voice. He detailed a basic meal and waved when the pair slipped out together. He waited until their footsteps receded down the hall before making up his mind. He set the book aside and sat up, swinging his legs over the bed to get dressed.
He left the silk shorts on the bed, donning again the black outfit the Master had constructed for him. The fabric rubbed at his burns, but he ignored the discomfort. He crossed to the window and peered down, judging how practical a descent from it would be.
Just as he was contemplating opening the window and trying it regardless of the practicality of it, he froze. The familiar, unmistakable sound of a TARDIS materializing behind him filled the room. He spun around and found a large cherry oak wardrobe standing against the far wall where before there had been nothing. He put his hand on the armchair, waiting for the door open.
It took a few seconds, but it did open, and the Master soon stepped out. He surveyed the room absently, nodding his approval, before fixing his eyes on Adric. “Trouble?” he asked in his silken smooth voice.
Adric clenched his free hand into a fist. “I got hurt,” he confessed. “I was just now trying to escape to get back to you.”
“Of course,” the Master intoned. He surveyed the room, all the while drawing closer to Adric. “How has your little reunion been?”
“Strange,” Adric admitted. “I miss him.” He looked down at the armchair and found he was fingering the cuff on the Doctor’s coat. “Things could never be the same between us, but . . . but it could be all right.”
The Master didn’t appear to be listening. He crossed to Adric in two long strides and snapped the Doctor’s coat up in a flash. He laughed, looking it over. “Of course it will never be the same, Adric. Your Doctor goes through people like you go through meals: quickly and without enjoying them.”
“That’s not true,” Adric retorted.
On which count it wasn’t true, the Master didn’t ask. He simply silenced Adric with a piercing glare. “Come, we must go. They’ll be back soon and I mustn’t be found.”
“They’ll wonder where I’ve gone,” Adric protested. Eyeing the Master’s TARDIS now, he found he was leery of returning to it. In the light of day, after a night of healing sleep, the Master’s arguments weren’t holding as much weight.
“That’s the idea,” he replied. He shoved Adric aside and wrangled with the window to get it open. While the Master was preoccupied, Adric slipped his marsh belt off and casually dropped it on the floor. “There, now he’ll think you’ve escaped through the window.”
“And took his coat?” Adric asked, noting the Master was still holding it.
“Of course. You are a thief, aren’t you?” The Master’s smile was not kind. “Don’t think I didn’t notice my missing utensils. You do have—” but whatever he was going to say was silenced at the sound of approaching feet. Hissing, the Master said, “Come on.” He grabbed Adric by the wrist and forcefully hauled him back into his TARDIS. They were safely sealed inside just as the room door opened.
“I’m afraid they didn’t have river fruit,” the Doctor said as he entered. He carried a large tray in his arms, carefully balancing several dishes of food on it. “So I got kelp,” he added weakly, seeing the bed was empty. He stepped inside, looking around more intently.
Turlough appeared behind him, looking satisfied and pleased at last. He instantly noticed the Doctor’s unease as he realized that the room was empty. “He’s gone?”
“The window,” the Doctor noted, setting the tray down on the desk. He crossed to the window and leaned out it, looking down. They were several stories up, and below was a sheer drop. “Incredible.”
“You think he climbed down? We’re ten stories up.”
“Adric is very agile,” the Doctor commented. A flash of silver caught his eye and he looked down. At his feet he found Adric’s marsh belt. “Ah.”
“What’s that?”
“Adric’s marsh belt, it would seem.”
“It’s rather hideous, isn’t it?” Turlough noted.
The Doctor gave him a stern glare, then shook his head. “When Adric’s brother was killed, Adric took this to remember him by. It’s got special meaning to him; he wouldn’t have left it behind.”
“Unless he wanted you to think that.”
“No. I don’t think he left of his own accord.”
“You think he was taken? By who?”
The Doctor looked from the marsh belt to Turlough. “I hope it isn’t who I’m starting to suspect it is.”
“Doctor?” Turlough asked, looking away from the window. His voice was laced with warning.
“Mm?”
“Was that wardrobe here before?” Turlough pointed a finger at it.
The Doctor studied it for a moment, before glancing to the armchair. “My coat is gone, too. Don’t suppose he ordered up a wardrobe up just so he could hang up my coat for me before he left, do you?”
“Seems unlikely,” Turlough agreed.
“A curious game of hide and seek, if ever there was one.” The Doctor approached the wardrobe cautiously. “Let’s find out.” He lunged forward and pulled at the doors simultaneously, but they refused to budge. “Ha!” He knocked on the doors for several seconds, listening. “I thought so.”
“What is it?” Turlough asked, approaching slowly.
The Doctor withdrew the knife Turlough had given him earlier, pointing at the wardrobe with it. “Only a Time Lord would have a knife with the Seal of Rassilon embossed on the handle, and I know it’s not mine.”
“You think another Time Lord rescued Adric?” Turlough asked.
The Doctor brightened, pleased at how Turlough was piecing things together. “Now that’s an idea indeed. Another Time Lord. One with a,” he knocked on the wardrobe again, “working chameleon circuit. This is a TARDIS.”
Turlough stared at the wardrobe anew. “You mean he’s in there now?”
“I do believe so. And if I’m right, which I usually am, it’s the Master’s TARDIS.” He glanced at Turlough. “That’d account for those readings you picked up last night, too.”
“The Master is controlling Adric?” Turlough asked. “But why?”
“To get to me,” the Doctor mused. “It was working, too. He tried to lead me off last night, and I would have followed him. Right into the Master’s TARDIS.”
Turlough sneered. “And to think I helped that immature little brat.”
The Doctor drew up short, turning to glare at Turlough. “He isn’t, and if you say that again, we’ll know who the real immature brat is.” As the sneer had melted from Turlough’s face, the Doctor relaxed. “I’m sorry. He’s been through a lot, and so have I. With the Master’s influence, it’s no wonder he’s been so misguided.”
Tentatively, Turlough asked, “What do we do?”
“Well, if the Master won’t come out and play, we’ll have to go on the offensive. I’m not having Adric rescued by the likes of him, just so he can be tortured to death, or turned against me.”
“You care about him a lot, don’t you?”
The Doctor looked at Turlough and smiled. “Very much. More than I can really express. He’s my friend, and I owe it to him. I failed him once. I don’t plan to do it again.” Facing the wardrobe again, he shouted. “All right, Master! Open up and state your demands! I’m tired of playing your games.”
The pair waited for several long seconds while nothing happened. Then, after it seemed as if perhaps they’d been wrong all along and it was nothing more than a locked closet, the rushing wind started up as the Master’s TARDIS began to dematerialize.
“Damn it!” the Doctor hotly shouted, surprising Turlough. “To the TARDIS, we have to trace him!” He took off, not waiting to see if Turlough was following.
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