Imprisoned

Author's Note: The last time I wrote a fanfiction, I thing I was in middle school and had just hopped on the Twilight bandwagon. I desperately hope I have matured in both my writing and in taste since then, but I suppose that will be for you all to judge. Though I am new to the Doctor Who fandom, I have pretty much thrown myself headfirst into the legacy, entrenched between stacks of Classic Doctor Who lore and tales and the New Who episodes and stories. With that in mind, please enjoy my debut Doctor Who fic and let me know if I unintentionally get something incorrect about anything canon. This story, like all of my others, is written without a beta.

Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who. In fact I hardly own any merchandise, yet… Yet.

Chapter One: The Anomaly

Normal, that's how these things always start out, right? The Doctor had landed her on the planet of Triderra Seven in the midst of a rebellion five days prior. Her thief and his current companion had long since disembarked and entangled themselves firmly within yet another political struggle. The peoples of M'ooria, Kermilo, and Zendurri'i had lived reasonably well under a strict caste system with the Kermilons firmly enslaved, the M'oorians crafting and selling their wares, and the Zendurri'i reigning over the lot. Three years before the current time, an underground movement that had begun amongst the Kermilon people burst, quite literally, into a semi-violent uprising. They demanded equality amongst all races, some M'oorians saw reason to agree, and the Zendurri'i saw no reason at all to allow such a thing. Suffice to say, it has been a long and bloody affair that needed a resolve. Her Doctor just so happened to volunteer.

With a low hum, the TARDIS considered her thief's latest companion. She was good, the one called 'Donna'. She was strong and independent, but cared enough to stop the Doctor when he needs it, and oh how he needed it. Her time rotor shuddered at the thought of the Time Lord Victorious. Her poor thief… He lost his people, his planet, his childhood friend, and his Rose. Their Rose. He had been so very broken, and the replacement—Martha, as she was known—though smart and quite qualified as a healer, she sought far more than either the Doctor or herself would willingly give. This new one, though, she sought no more than adventure and friendship. She helped distract from the pain. Yes, she was a good one indeed.

Suddenly, a tremor wracked the ship. Four weeks ago, the TARDIS had felt a disturbance in time, yet the timelines quickly smoothed themselves out, though mildly altered. The changes, however, were minor enough to be overlooked, even if they felt off. Whatever had caused those changes was now flaring, calling out for help. No, not calling, whatever it was—whoever it was—was howling in agony, a point in the timeline burning.

The TARDIS was well aware of how poorly negotiations were going, despite her Doctor's continued persistence otherwise. Really though, some things were more important to the passage of Time and whatever this was is urgent indeed.

Not one to ignore such a desperate appeal, the timeship reached out to her thief…

Only to be mentally brushed off.

Well, if that was how he was going to be…

"No. Absolutely not. I refuse to lead an armed battalion into the capitol. This can be sorted out peacefully and you will not do anything of the sort of brash displays your troops keep hinting at."

"But, Sir—"

"I'm the Doctor, J'huii, not an officer. Do not call me sir. I have always hated that title and will never answer to it. Now, you will listen to this frankly magnificent plan of mine that I've figured out due to my frankly magnificent brain… Well, that and observing how Nishionne Bats plant their young in the poor Tümbla nests. Really clever species, them. Now where was I? Oh yes!"

Donna sighed from her seat in the corner of the brilliantly named "War Room." Real witty, that. She and the Doctor had been on this oppressively humid planet for nearly a week now. Yet, despite their best efforts, not a single one of the three races were willing to budge in their positions. They had nearly been arrested by the Zendurri'I for daring to suggest granting Kermilons freedom, much less citizenship; the people of Kermilo denied any compromises resulting in them being considered anything but full-fledged members of the state; and the damned M'oorians had quickly declared neutrality from the whole conflict, deciding to capitalize on the hostile environment by ratchetting up tension between the parties and selling supplies, food, arms, and munitions to both sides at elevated prices. Bloody dolts, the lot of them. As it was, however, she and Spaceman over there were holed up in a hidden bunker in the middle of some godawful marsh trying to peacefully negotiate a treaty between everyone.

Having zoned out on whatever the Doctor had been babbling on about, she almost didn't notice when he had finally shut his gob had he not also violently cringed, his hands shooting to his head.

"Argh!" he exclaimed, his face in a sharp grimace as he hunched over in pain.

As if it were an automatic reaction—and if she were being honest, it might well becoming one—the ginger was at his side, her hand on his back. "Doctor? Doctor, what was that? Are you okay?"

With his hands pressing hard against his temples, the Doctor staggered back a step. "Guh…" the Time Lord shook himself. "Y—," he cleared his throat and tried again. "Yes, Donna, I'm alright. I'm always alright," he coughed.

"Oh really? Then mind sharing with me what exactly all that was about?"

"Oh, you know, just my ship being a little insistent." The Doctor straightened up and threw a glance at J'huii who had been so startled by the man's sudden fit, he froze. Turning his attention to the alarmed native, he apologized, "So sorry about that. It seems I have come down with a bit of a headache. Mind if I pop out for a bit of fresh air for a mo'? Shouldn't take too long to clear my head. Triderran swamp fumes are famous for their mental defogging uses, after all! Although with as large as my brain is, it might take a bit after all… Soon as I get back, we can continue planning. Ta!" With that, the Doctor grabbed hold of his companion's wrist and pulled her swiftly past the confused alien and out of the room.

"Doctor?" Donna called out as she was yanked down the narrow hallways of the fortified shelter. She was ignored. "Oi! Doctor!" He continued his brisk pace, effortlessly weaving his way through the maze of corridors. "Oi! Spaceman!" She yanked hard, wrenching her arm free, the momentum being enough to force the Time Lord to spin and face her. "What was all that about, then? You told me Time Lords don't get sick. Superior biology and all that rubbish you keep spouting off. What's going on?"

The Doctor sighed and gave her a levelled gaze. "Somethin's wrong. My reaction in there was just the TARDIS making a point of how important that something is. Now, please, come on!"

"So what? We're jus' gonna leave in the middle of negotiating an attack?" Donna retorted, confused.

The Doctor started walking again. "Time machine, remember? We'll just pop back in once we've cleared whatever this is all up and no one will be any the wiser."

They had finally exited the bunker, stepping into the thick, fumy air that overwhelmed the swamp.

"Gah… I hate the smell out here," Donna mumbled as she trudged along behind him.

"Oh don't be that way, it's not like it was a particularly long walk." He smiled irritatingly, widely gesturing to the blue box nestled in a sizable outcropping of stone.

"Oh shove off and let's get out of this heat. It's making me feel nauseous," the ginger complained.

"As you wish." With that, the Doctor flung open the doors of the TARDIS and the pair stepped inside.

Chaos could be one word Donna could use to describe what exactly greeted them. Various lights flashed reds, greens, and blues all over the console; alarms and alerts rang and buzzed; a few things she was fairly sure weren't supposed to be doing anything were sparking or smoking. Seemingly right at home, and being honest, why would she expect him to not be, the Doctor slid around the time rotor. He slipped his glasses on and pulled a few levers, flipped a few switches, at least silencing most of the noise. "Yes, yes, I'm here now. Was that really necessary though," the man muttered to his ship. The lights flickered brightly in response. "Fine, fine, fine. Com'mon, old girl. What seems to be the problem here?" He squinted at a few of the monitors. "Well… that is strange," he finally announced in a gleeful tone. "Donna, come look at this."

Donna, at this point used to his flair for the dramatic and love of a good mystery circled around to console to see what was on the screen. A few graphs were displayed, presenting different energy levels over the past three months. Overall, the bars and points seemed fairly uniform for each chart, but two spikes clearly stood out in each diagram. "What is all this supposed to mean exactly?"

"Notice how the levels all spike here and here?" the Doctor pointed to the two peaks. "That first spike happened a few weeks ago. Remember when the TARDIS shook and the bookshelf in your room fell over? This is what seems to have caused that. As for this one," he motioned to the more recent elevation. "Now whatever caused that is what she wants us to look into. I haven't seen such a high reading in years!" he gushed excitedly. "Shall we go check it out?" He turned his eyes back to his companion with a jubilant grin, his eyes sparkling with the promise of adventure and a new puzzle.

The ginger woman snorted and rolled her eyes. He was absolutely mad, this one, but she let a smile unfurl on her face. "Well, duh," she agreed. "Do you have any more information than that?"

"Not a bit! The surprise is half the fun!" And with a laugh, the Doctor pulled a lever, sending the pair of time travellers hurtling through the vortex.

"The tests have returned inconclusive again, Sir."

"How can they be inconclusive every time, Ferrin? If we don't make headway with the project soon, not only will we not be able to present at the festival, but the Tuunga will cut our funding on this assignment as well. I just know we can crack this puzzle if we just push a little harder."

The one called Ferrin looked up from his charts with a concerned expression. "But, Sir, forgive me, but I don't think the patient can take much elevation to the force of the experiments. It's getting violent and, if I were to be so bold as to make an observation, I do not believe that that which houses the entity is in control of it any longer. The patient's mental state seems to have receded to the point of basic bestial behaviour."

"Then bestial they shall be. Whatever is housed within Patient 2145636 can change everything, we only need to learn how to access it. We must make progress, Ferrin. Have I made myself clear?"

"Yes, Sir."

Author's Note: Please review if you liked the beginning. I don't know how soon I will be posting the second chapter because I'm a moron and decided to restart writing fanfiction in the middle of finals week. Yay college! *facepalm* Let me know what you think and feel free to give me opinions and ideas for how I can improve either the story or the characterization. Thank you!