Post by Fitz Kreiner on Aug 16, 2009 22:01:05 GMT
7
Suicide & Redemption.
Suicide & Redemption.
Franz was walking down the corridors of the base, checking the readings on the corridor relays, typing the data into his electronic notepad when someone careened into him, knocking him from his feet. With a crash, his notepad hit the floor, the screen going blank.
“Hey, watch it,” he called, looking up.
The figure was stumbling down the corridor, hands shaking violently, moving from bulkhead to bulkhead, and bodily connecting with each panel. Their long hair, held back into a pony tail was looking messed up, long strands hanging down over the bearded face. Franz recognised the figure of one of the strangers he had brought into the base, the young man. When he turned back to look at Franz, he gave the young Austrian quite a shock; his eyes were wide and wild, a look of pure fear and panic on his face.
There was only one main thing down the corridor he was walking, Franz knew it, he’d just returned from making sure that the circuits were in order from the power outages; the eastern airlock. He was clambering to his feet when two other figures rounded the corner coming from the direction the young man had come; Doctor Christina Miles and one of the other strangers, the one who had introduced himself as a doctor.
“You haven’t seen Tom by any chance, have you?” The Doctor asked, helping Franz to his feet.
“The guy with the long hair and beard?” Franz asked, more as a confirmation than as a means of identification as he turned and pointed down the corridor. “Just went down there; knocked me from my feet without even a sorry.”
“Yes, terribly sorry about that,” the Doctor apologised on Tom’s behalf. “I don’t think he’s quite himself at the moment. What’s down there?”
“Eastern airlock,” Christina started but stopped when she saw the look on the Doctor’s face. “You don’t think?” she started again before an alarm cut her off.
“Come on,” the Doctor urged, running down the corridor, his coat tails billowing behind him.
Realisation fast sinking in as what the Doctor was implying sunk in, Christina set off after the Doctor at a run, Franz pausing to scoop the broken remains of his notepad before setting off after her. Rounding the corner, Christina stopped; the Doctor was stood by the airlock door, looking through the window.
“Be careful, don’t get too close,” he warned quietly as he put his hand to his ear. “Jess, you might want to come down to the air lock, we’ve found Tom.”
“What’s he doing?” Christina asked, cautiously edging forwards. She could just see through the thick glass into the lock, but she couldn’t see Tom yet.
The Doctor’s face was grim as he turned to face her. “I’m afraid you might be right,” he said sadly. “There’s something very wrong in the base here, and Tom’s coming down with the space madness proves it; we’ve not been here eight hours yet he’s come down with it.”
Christina cautiously edged closer to the Doctor; he was staring through the observation port with quick glances to the access panel beside the door. Eventually she got close enough to see through the thick window. She could now see Tom inside the air lock; he was breathing fast, almost hyperventilating, his left hand was to his mouth he was biting at the skin beside his fingernails. Christina could see blood running down two of the fingers where he’d bitted down hard. His eyes didn’t seem to be focussing on anything.
With a movement that made Christina step back in shock, Tom dropped his left hand and pulling his right back, swung a hard punch at the observation port on the outer door to the lock. Wincing before she remembered how thick the glass was, Christina continued to watch as Tom swung another punch, this time hitting a ridge of metal on the door. It must have hurt like hell, but he didn’t seem to be aware of the pain; he now had blood running down his other hand.
“Is there a communication link to inside the air lock?” the Doctor asked, turning to Christina, his face pure concern.
“I don’t know,” Christina admitted. “Can’t you just open the door?”
The Doctor turned to face Christina and put his hands gently on her shoulders. “Look at him,” he said, glancing through the window. “Tom is having a full blown anxiety attack, and a violent one at that. I don’t want to just open the door and barge in making things worse.” Turning back to the door, the Doctor fished in his pockets for his sonic screwdriver. “And besides, he seems to have smashed the relays on the inside, so getting in may prove to be a bit tricky.”
“We need to get him out of there,” Christina said.
“Really? Do you think?” the Doctor snapped, turning to face Christina.
Taken aback by the Doctors’ outburst, Christina held her hands up in protest. “Speaking from a medical point of view,” she protested, “if we can get him sedated and back to sickbay it might give us a chance to get some answers on this Space Madness. He’s been on base, what; 6 hours?”
“Yes, I know,” the Doctor sighed, almost exasperated as he started to remove the covering of the access panel to the air lock.
Christina took a step back and reminded herself that the Doctor was concerned that his friend had locked himself in the air lock. How would she feel if it was a friend of hers, or Patrick? The Doctor didn’t mean anything by his outbursts, he was speaking out of concern, it was written all across his face. The sound of running feet from behind her made her turn.
Patrick came running round the corner, the figure of Jess skidding after him, her shoes squeaking slightly on the metal floor of the base. She didn’t seem to have noticed that one of the plats on the side of her head had come undone leaving her hair an uneven mess. The look of concern on her face matched, and looked almost greater than the Doctor’s. Not for the first time, Christina wondered whether the girl carried a torch for the young man or whether it was just friendly concern.
“What’s going on?” Jess asked, stepping through Miles and Christina and towards the Doctor.
At the sound of Jess’s voice, the Doctor looked up and noticed her and Miles for the first time. “Ah, Patrick,” he said, operating his sonic screwdriver whilst he spoke. “I was wondering if you could get onto your chaps and see if they can lock down the outer door of this lock, for, erm, obvious reasons.”
Nodding, Miles turned away, his hand to his ear on his communicator.
“Tom!” Jess cried, looking through the observation port.
“It’s no good, he won’t hear you,” the Doctor said carefully, placing a hand on Jess’s shoulder. “It’s hermetically sealed. Stand back, if this opens, it will be rather a delicate situation.”
Taking several steps back, Christina turned away, her hand to her ear. “Carlo, its Christina, get down to the Eastern Airlock immediately with the most powerful tranquiliser we’ve got in stock; we’ve a medical emergency.” She said quietly into her communicator.
“What’s he doing in there?” Jess asked, her voice wavering as she approached the Doctor and peered through the observation port. Tom was stood by the outer door to the air lock, repeatedly hitting his fist against the metal door. His chest was heaving as though he was breathing heavily and his eyes didn’t seem to be focussed on anything.
“I’d stand back if I were you,” the Doctor warned softly as he pressed two wires together inside the access panel to the air lock.
Doing as the Doctor suggested, Jess saw Tom visibly jump, scrambling back into the corner of the air lock as the door hissed open. Slowly and deliberately, the Doctor carefully stepped through the air lock door, his hands spread out in a pacifying manner.
“Tom, can you hear me?” he asked softly as he slowly stepped through the door.
Jess could just see round the Doctor and Tom’s reaction to his entering the air lock. His reaction sent chills down her spine, as he cried in an almost pitiful yelp when he noticed the Doctor, backing even further into the corner. Unable to get farther into the corner, he collapsed onto the floor, pulling his knees up to his chest as he tried to back away further from the Doctor.
Seeing Tom’s reaction, the Doctor back paced a little before turning slightly to Jess whilst keeping an eye on Tom. Slowly he reached out to her and beckoned her over. Feeling a great sense of trepidation, Jess cautiously crept closer to the air lock.
“Why do you want me?” she whispered when she was beside the Doctor. “You saw how he reacted.”
“He’ll need someone familiar and comforting. Someone he’s likely to let into his personal space.” The Doctor replied stepping aside. “You saw how he reacted to me; that means it’s not me, not yet. You’ve been with him pretty much constantly since we arrived. You’ve got a greater chance of getting closer to him.”
“Yeah, but, he jumped from me in the dome,” Jess started as the Doctor stared at her. “What if he does it here?”
The Doctor fixed Jess with a dazzling blue stare. “Jess, trust me; right now Tom needs someone, and I think you’re the only one he’s going to let in.”
Taking a look into the air lock, the sight of her friend in the corner brought a lump to Jess’s throat. What was happening to him scared her, almost more than any of the monsters she’d come across in the past seven months. Swallowing hard, and feeling a tear in the corner of her eye, Jess stepped into the air lock. Her heart was beating so hard she was sure that if she looked down she would see her shirt moving with each beat.
“Tom? Tom, can you hear me?” she asked softly, crouching down as she approached him. Not getting a response, she glanced over her shoulder to the Doctor, who nodded in encouragement. “Tom?” she asked again.
When Tom’s head snapped up to look at her, Jess almost fell back in shock; his eyes were wide and wild, staring straight at her. Tears were streaking down his face, which was a picture of horror. She could hear his erratic and ragged breathing and could instantly tell he was in danger of hyperventilating.
“What’s up?” she asked, immediately regretting the stupid choice of question.
“Jess?”
Jess hardly recognised Tom’s voice. It was broken and cracked, filled with a fear she’d never known him to show. He stared at her with pleading eyes that caused her to sit down on the floor beside him. Sidling up to him, she cautiously reached out to put her arm round him. As soon as she’d done that, she found him latching onto her, his hands gripping the sleeve and loose edge of her shirt that was closest to him. She could feel his body shaking as he sobbed into her.
“It’s ok, I’m here; you’re safe now.” She said softly and reassuringly.
Silently, Jess wished that her words reassured her, if they indeed reassured Tom. A slight movement to her right made her turn; the Doctor was stood inside the air lock holding out a brown paper bag she recognised.
“Fine time to offer Jelly Babies isn’t it?” she hissed at him.
“Paper bag,” the Doctor explained showing her it was empty before holding it to his mouth. “Help control his breathing, deep breaths to calm him down.”
Cautiously, Jess took the bag from the Doctor, briefly wondering what happened to the Jelly Babies. Turning back to Tom, she carefully tried to get him to lift his head. She found that it was proving more difficult that she thought. After what seemed like long minutes, she finally persuaded Tom to lift his head, when a commotion outside the air lock set her back to square one, Tom letting go of her and sending her falling to the floor as he tried to scramble away.
Looking up, she saw Christina and Doctor Ricci stood at the door; the latter was holding a syringe and looking over her to where Tom was now curled, shaking on the floor. With a silent fury that Jess could feel through his back, the Doctor immediately ushered the two members of the medical team from the airlock, closing the door behind him, leaving Jess along with Tom. She thought she could hear him bellowing at the two doctors, he certainly looked like he was giving them a piece of his mind, as she watched through the observation port.
“I, I, I, I,”
The stammered subjective pronoun caused her to look round. Tom’s knuckles were white as he seemed to grip at nothing. His hyperventilated breathing was jagged, making his voice cracked. The sound of it terrified Jess, it sounded nothing like her friend.
“It’s ok, I’m here,” she said softly crawling over to Tom.
“Hate... Them... What they’ve done... Me,” he stammered at Jess, his eyes wide with fear.
“It’s ok; nothing can get you in here.” Jess said, again wishing she believed it herself. “Come on, please, breathe deeply, try for me?” Carefully she brought her hand up with the paper bag, and to her astonishment, Tom didn’t back away.
“Jess?” he asked, in a gulp of air.
“It’s ok, I’m here, I’m here,” Jess said softly, as she smoothed Tom’s hair back. “Don’t worry, you’re safe now.”
“I hate them,” Tom said in a quiet and broken voice.
“What do you mean?” she asked, feeling Toms grip on her chequered shirt tighten.
“I can’t do it, not with my head like this,” he replied, through his rapid breaths. “I wanna scream, I want to shout, I just want to hate it all away.”
Jess looked down at Tom; his eyes were wide and full of fear and hatred. It was a look that scared her, she’d never seen him like this before, nor that look in his eyes. His body was jerking with each breath he took and tears were streaming down his face. He was still half curled in the foetal position, his hands gripping the loose edge of her shirt.
“I need to get out of here,” Tom stammered trying to get to his feet.
“Careful, what do you mean?” Jess asked, getting up with Tom.
Looking at the window out of the airlock to the lunar surface, Tom reached out before swaying and stumbling backwards. Reaching out to steady him, Jess found herself falling backwards with Tom, connecting hard with the floor of the air lock, Tom on top of her, curling up into a ball again.
“They’re out there,” Tom muttered. “They’re coming, don’t let them take me.”
“What are you talking about?” Jess asked.
“It’s ok,” the Doctor said, appearing inside the air lock silently, his hands held behind his back.
“Yeah,” Jess said heavily, moving out from underneath Tom.
Carefully and quietly, the Doctor crouched down beside them both. With a swift and fluid movement, his hand snaked out and he slid the syringe into Tom’s neck and depressed the plunger before withdrawing it. The whole thing happened before Jess had time to realise what exactly was happening.
“Hyperventilation, his muscles were starting to contract,” the Doctor said softly. “This should help relax him, but it will take a little while to take effect.”
“Is he going to be ok?” Jess asked, looking up at the Doctor hopefully.
“Yes, given time,” the Doctor said looking down at Jess and smiling. “You did absolutely splendidly. Well done, I’ve very proud of you, I really am,” he added causing Jess to blush furiously.
“Doctor,” Tom managed, reaching out for the Time Lords velvet sleeve.
“It’s ok, Tom, it’s ok,” the Doctor said gently. “You’re among friends, you’ll be fine.” Carefully, the Doctor leant over to Jess and whispered. “We have to get him out of here and to the sick bay as soon as possible. We can monitor him then and try and get him back to full health.”
“How are we going to do that?” Jess asked. “It was hard enough trying to get near him.”
“We’ll find a way,” the Doctor smiled.
Jess opened her mouth to comment when the lights cut out, plunging the air lock and corridor outside into darkness. A chilling cry of fear came from directly beside her as Tom cried out, struggling to get away.
“No, no, Tom,” she said softly, “you’re with me, you’ll be alright. I’ll look after you.”
“This is rather badly timed,” the Doctor sighed in the dark, his silhouette visible against the observation window. “Jess, help me with Tom, we need to get him out of this air lock to the corridor, it’s more open.”
Scrambling in the dark, Jess managed to help the Doctor get Tom off the floor, lifting him by his arm. After what felt like an age navigating the air lock floor in the pitch darkness, Jess found herself stumbling over the raised edge of the air lock door, Tom falling after her. Again in a small space of time, she found herself entangled with him on the floor as the lighting flickered back on, followed by a blaring alarm.
“What the hell?” she asked, looking up.
“Medical alert in the sick bay,” Christina said, looking round to Miles and Ricci, the two medical doctors turning and running down the corridor, leaving Miles looking bemused, turning back to look at the entanglement on the floor of Jess and Tom.
“Will he be alright?” he asked.
“Given time, Patrick,” the Doctor replied. “Could you help me with Tom, we need to get him to the sick bay, and then there’s that medical emergency to deal with.”
Nodding, Miles bent down to help the Doctor get Tom back to his feet, Jess struggling up as well.
*
Steve Murdoch was sat at the desk in the sick bay. After the emergency at the air lock with the Doctor’s companion, he’d been left in charge of the sick bay. Fortunately it was rather quiet for him, the only person in being Emily Groves, the space madness case that the Doctor had asked to be brought to the sick bay so he could examine her. Deciding to take advantage of the quiet time, Murdoch was catching up on some of his own research and work. He had promised a journal article to the World Health Authority for publication, on the long term effects of working in the Gravitron control.
Murdoch was so engrossed in his work, he didn’t notice the door to the Gravitron control open until Anneke van Weesenbeek was stood nearby him, gently clearing her throat.
“Sorry Anneke,” he apologised looking up from his work. “How can I help?”
“I’m just getting a slight headache,” she replied, rubbing her eyes. “This Gravitron repair is tiring work.”
“No worries,” Murdoch said, getting to his feet and turning to the medicine stores. “It’s a rather stressful time at the moment. Let me see what I can do for you.”
Smiling her thanks, van Weesenbeek looked round the sick bay. It was rather quiet apart from the gentle hum of the equipment. It was probably one of the most peaceful areas of the base at the moment. Stifling a yawn, van Weesenbeek turned back to Murdoch. She was starting to get rather tired, in her twentieth hour of her shift, the overtime coming about due to the current emergency.
“Here you are,” Murdoch said, turning back round, holding a small plastic bottle of tablets. “Two of these with a swig of water should do the trick for you.”
“Thanks,” van Weesenbeek said, taking the bottle and tipping two of the tablets into her hand. “Isn’t that Groves?” she asked nodding to the prone figure in one of the beds. “I thought Doctor Miles had had her signed off work?”
“Aye,” Murdoch agreed. “This Doctor bloke wants to study someone with Space Madness, but then he rushed off to this air lock emergency. Think we’re gonna be getting another patient soon, unless he blows himself out the air lock.”
“Not exactly something to laugh about,” van Weesenbeek replied, pouring some water from the cooler into a cup and swallowing the tablets.
Murdoch was about to reply when the lighting in the sick bay blinked out, and the room was plunged into darkness. A piercing shriek of abject terror rang out from across the sick bay, from the direction of the bed containing Groves. Murdoch spun round looking through the darkness as the sound of someone scuffling could be heard followed by a loud crash and the sound of breaking glass.
“Don’t let them take me,” Groves cried out in a voice full of terror. “They’re coming, don’t let them get me, I can’t do it, I can’t.”
“It’s ok,” Murdoch shouted back into the dark, trying to see where Groves had been. His step forwards had resulted in his waking into a desk with a bang. “No one’s coming to get you; the only people here are you, myself and Doctor van Weesenbeek.”
They won’t get me, they can’t. I won’t let them,” Groves cried out, her voice breaking.
“Emily, don’t panic, you’re quite safe,” Murdoch said loudly, feeling his way around the medibeds.
“What did she mean?” van Weesenbeek asked, trying to feel her way following Murdoch.
“I don’t know,” Murdoch asked. He could hear the sound of scuffling from where Groves had been; the sound of broken glass crunching and small moans of pain. “Stay still, Emily,” he called out, “if there’s broken glass you could hurt yourself.”
Listening as he rounded another bed, Murdoch couldn’t hear any more scuffling, just a low sobbing and heavy breathing. It felt like it was taking him hours to cross the sick bay in the blackness.
“Is she alright?” van Weesenbeek called from behind him.
“I don’t know,” Murdoch called back. He had to be near her now; the bed he was currently feeling his way around had displaced sheets, it had to be hers. “Emily, speak to me,” he said softly, before his foot slipped in something.
Stumbling in the spill, Murdoch grabbed at the medibed to steady himself. The spill was probably from something that Groves had tipped over when she fell from the bed. Taking another step, a large shard of glass crunched under his boot and he slipped again on yet more spillage, causing him to swear softly.
“Everything ok?” van Weesenbeek asked.
“Yeah,” Murdoch called out. “There’s just a bit of a spill round here.”
“Spill of what?” van Weesenbeek called back.
“I dunno,” Murdoch replied. “I can’t think of anything here that could have caused,” trailing off, Murdoch looked down in the gloom. Something was bothering him.
“What is it?” van Weesenbeeks voice came from beside Murdoch, making him start.
“I don’t,” Murdoch paused as the lights flickered back on and the sight on the floor greeted him, causing him to pale. “Hit the emergency alarm, now,” he called to van Weesenbeek as he crouched down.
Van Weesenbeek looked over the bed to see what Murdoch was attending to. There was a dark, sticky red puddle on the floor, the mark of a skidded footprint in it Her eyes widened as she realised what the puddle was; blood. Turning she ran to the alarm button, her hand hitting it with force. The sound of the alarm made her start, despite her setting it off and she ran back to where Murdoch was crouched.
Emily Groves was lying on the floor of the sick bay in a pool of blood, the overturned medical trolley spilling its contents about her. Van Weesenbeek couldn’t tell what the glass object had been, but there were several sharp shards lying about, several smaller shards were sticking out of the bloodied palms of Groves’ hands where she had no doubt crawled backwards over them. It was then van Weesenbeek saw where all the blood had come from, a large, bloodstained piece of glass lay beside her left hand and there were large jagged tears up her wrists, from the palm of her hand to halfway up her forearm.
Murdoch looked up from where he was crouched, his eyes full of sadness. Grimly, he shook his head; Groves was dead.
