kore_logs | Paranoia, Paranoia, Everybody's Out to Get Me

Who: The Doctor, everyone!
Where:Around the science center
What: Ghosts!
When: Day 127

It had been a couple days since it started, but the Doctor had been noticing with their new home came new friends. Or really, old friends. Friends he recalled being dead, and it only reminded him he wasn't able to do anything about it.

It brought back a panic he hadn't felt since being returned from the scientists with an unstable mind. At first, he thought those wounds were reopened as he woke the first day hearing voices from Time Lords past he hadn't heard in a long, long time, only as the day turned into the next, he saw others' minds were just as unsettled and saw what seemed like projections from their own pasts.

Crouched down under a cabinet attempting to fix an annoying leaking faucet, a young Adric chirped happily away next to him about theories of a problem the Doctor had once presented to him. The Doctor was thankful to have his face hidden as an ache in his throat lingered and ridiculous amount of guilt ate away at his hearts.

"Adric," The Doctor finally spoke, "Go find Tegan for me, will you?" He waited a while after the sink was fixed before popping out and glad to find the boy missing.

Washing his hands and splashing cold water on his face, the Doctor took it upon himself to go for a walk.

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As if on cue, Martha started tapping out a particularly rhythm. She was completely unaware of it. She hurried to keep up with him... to stay away from whatever was behind them.

"Adeola? She was... she was just trying to get me to talk about things."

You won't like who comes next.

"And maybe a bit threatening..."

"Talking about things is great, the threats were a bit much..." Luckily for the Doctor none of his projections were threatening, but terrible reminders of the guilt he held on to. No matter how much older he became or the farthest reach of the universe, it still lingered.

Glancing back, he looked to see if anyone was following them, but he couldn't see anything. The feeling, though? It was certainly still there.

"Raphael says he can help me. Without taking away my memories." And that's all she's going to say on the matter of talking.

"How do you outrun a ghost Doctor? I can take a guess on what's following us... and I don't know how to get away."

The Doctor looked over her, completely forgetting the matter at hand, "Erase what exactly? If it isn't memories... Feelings? You want to erase feelings?"

He was confused, mixing his frustrations at the appearance of the projections, confusion and guilt of not being able to help Martha, and not to mention lingering guilt of the projections whose deaths were upon his hands. "Martha..."

He licked his lips, knowing how wrong it was as he briefly glanced around the corner, seeing if he spotted anyone, but then turned back and was leaning against a wall. "It breaks everything I live by to tell you of your future... but things get better. You get past all this, past the anger, the frustration. Well, I think so, at least..." And finally his gaze finds hers.

Martha stops as she tries to work out what he's asking. "Erase... nothing. He's not erasing anything. You're the one who threatened to erase things. I don't like trusting him, but Raphael put me to sleep with no nightmares last night. Something I haven't had for... god I don't even know how long. And he says he can teach me to control it. To get past the crippling fear that I feel every god dammed minute of my existence!"

She frowns. "That's a completely different world Doctor. A world where I'm sure I had the support of my family and a job and other things. Perhaps someone else. Without the constant reminder of you. What do I have here? A prison. And the one person who I can trust with my life... is the one person I thought about actively leaving in my old life."

So much for not talking. Martha blinked to keep herself from crying. She would not cry in front of him. Not now.

Right. What the bloody hell was he thinking?

The Doctor scrubs at his face, feeling defeated and inadequate at being her friend. "There's a prophecy out there... One predicting my death. That's what I get to look forward to when I return, Martha." There was no use in hiding it, especially when Mina and a few others knew, "I'm not saying this justifies anything here, but don't let here overshadow things back home. There's been enough people to have gone back and returned with little memories of here and vice versa. And here? Try not to dwell what's back home, because there isn't a thing we can do." And he looks her in the eyes, "But trust me. That's all I ask of you: trust me when I say things will become better."

Martha shuts her mouth finally. She doesn't know what to say, but she's exasperated beyond belief. She's sorry for him, she really is. But that doesn't mean her feelings are any less real or she's any less upset that she's stuck here.

"What's there to dwell on?" she finally chokes out. "I never had a chance to see the outcome thus the only thing I can dwell on is uncertainty and that never helped anyone.."

The footsteps get louder, and as they do, so do the drums in her head. Those blasted drums. And then the unmistakeable "Well Miss Jones. We meet again."

She tries to harden herself. Tries to not show the Doctor how very scared she actually is to see him of all people. But her eyes don't lie as she turns to face her nightmare.

"You're not welcome here Saxon. Fuck off."

The Doctor himself is unsure of how to feel about all this. He knew it would be the Master showing up. Knew it from the moment of Adeola's warning passing her lips and that look of viscous intent.

And it didn't help what the Doctor knew. That the Master managed a horribly failed regeneration after this, and was so mentally unstable and far gone, the Doctor didn't think he was able to reach out to him. And then knowing he somehow had a part in the Doctor's own doom to come.

'They' said knowing is half the battle, but 'knowing' was far too much for the Doctor's taste. It was wrong and he wasn't suppose to know of his future; it went against everything a Time Lord stood for.

"Ignore him." The Doctor took Martha's hand and began moving down the hall, trying to distance themselves.

The Master tuts as the Doctor pulls Martha down the hall.

You really think that will help. That you can distance yourself from me? I'm a part of her Doctor. She can't get rid of me that easily.

"Doctor, the drums!" Martha gasps. "They're everywhere, and I can't stop them."

She clutches her head with the hand not occupied by holding onto the Doctor's for dear life.

Paranoia, Paranoia, Everybody's Out to Get Me

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