1913

Summary: What if the Doctor had retained his memories during Human Nature/Family of Blood?

Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who. If I did, they'd keep the four-episode long storylines and run it all year! (heaven!)

A/N This little plot bunny bit me when I rewatched Family of Blood the other day and it refused to let go. So I sat down and wrote a plotline, and now the fic… By the way, I forgot the other maid's name, so I'll be calling her Rebecca. If you know her actual name, please tell me! Don't worry, I will get back to my other fics, but I had to get this one down.

Chapter 1

0-0-0-0-0

"Get down!"

A blast of green energy shot over their heads as they burst into the TARDIS, hitting the console with a shower of sparks. The doors closed behind them as the Doctor started his usual manic dance around the console, pressing various buttons, switches and levers to get the ancient machine to take off. As the engines wheezed into life, the Doctor turned to Martha.

"Did they see you?" he demanded.

"I don't know!" she replied, still getting over the fear of the chase.

"But did they see your face?"

"I was too busy running!"

"Martha, it's important- did they see your face?"

"No, they couldn't have." The Doctor nodded.

"Off we go!" he flicked another lever and Martha staggered as the TARDIS sped up. Various sounds, like warning signals, began howling from the console and the Doctor lifted the viewscreen to get a better look. "They're following us." He announced.

"How can they do that- you've got a time machine!" Martha asked.

"Stolen technology. They've got a Time Agent's vortex manipulator, they'll follow us wherever we go." He paused, stepping back as he did so. "Right across the universe. They're never going to stop!" He ended in a whisper, running his hand through his hair. His eyes were wide as he thought up a way to counter the new problem. "Unless… I'll have to do it…" he turned to Martha. "You trust me, don't you?"

"Of course I do." She replied, slightly confused.

"There's something I'm about to do, and I need your help." Something about his voice made her uneasy.

"What do you want me to do?" He began looking through his pockets and quickly drew out an ancient-looking watch.

"I need you to take this watch. My life depends on it, Martha." She held out her hands and he placed the watch in them. "Now, whatever happens next, promise me you won't interfere." Martha nodded silently as he pressed a button on the console. Something dropped down from the ceiling like an oxygen mask, only it looked nothing like one. It was made of metal and had two arched pieces which crossed in the centre. At the ends of both pieces were metal circles with the same writing as the Doctor used in his messages to himself- geometric and complex- emblazoned on them. The Doctor pulled the thing over to himself and placed it on his head.

"What are you going to do?" Martha asked, suddenly very scared.

"Rewrite my biology. Because I'm a Time Lord, they can track us. So, if I change into something else, they can't follow. Then it's three months and they're dead- this lot have a really short lifespan. Like mayflies really. Quite simple."

"Will it hurt?"

"Yes, which is why I need you. The TARDIS is headed for an English village in 1913, Farringham I think it's called. We should be safe there, but this," he tapped the device on his head "will knock me out, and might do more damage later."

"Might?"

"Never tried it before, only know the theory about how it works. Anyway, you'll need to get me out the TARDIS and find us somewhere to stay for about 3 months or so. " He looked directly at her "Think you can do it?"

"I can try." The Doctor nodded gratefully.

"Just remember: it's not the Doctor, it's John. John Smith. Oh, and by the way, that watch you've got." He held out a hand and she gave it to him "This will contain the key to changing me back. You'll need to look after it until I wake up, okay?" Martha nodded. The Doctor then placed the watch onto the front circle of the headset before pressing a button on the side of the device. It lit up, electric currents travelling down from the TARDIS roof to the Doctor. He screamed as they reached him. Martha could only look on in horrified silence, debating whether to break her promise and help him anyway. Before she could make up her mind, however, it was over. The device retreated back up to the ceiling, the watch falling out as it did so, and the Doctor, freed from its grasp, dropped to the ground. Martha was at his side in an instant. As he had told her, he was unconscious. The engines stopped and she realised they had arrived. She looked over to the door, then back at the Doctor.

"Let's hope you're not too heavy." She muttered and, putting the watch in her pocket, began to half-drag, half-carry the limp form to the door.

0-0-0

His head hurt. Actually, everything hurt, but his head was the worst. As consciousness began its unwanted return journey, he heard voices. One was vaguely familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. He opened his eyes, but quickly closed them with a soft moan of pain as light seared through to the centre of his headache.

"John!" He remembered telling the owner of that voice to call him that… He saw the blessed shadow through his eyelids and tentatively opened them again. Martha stood over him, her face creased with concern. "Are you alright?" He was sorely tempted to say no, but his usual self was returning (sans usual biology) and he attempted a nod, which had the effect of increasing the pain, and making him exceedingly dizzy. He shut his eyes again, hoping to return to unconsciousness. It stubbornly refused to arrive, and he decided to find out more about his current situation instead.

"Where are we?"

"The Cartwright family found us, you've been out cold for three days." Martha told him quietly, obviously realising that he was not 'alright'.

"Ah, you awake then?" another voice asked.

"He is. Do you have any more towels? He's still running a fever."

"They're over there- run along and get them, would you?"

"But…"

"I said, get them." The Doctor heard Martha's retreating footsteps before, any harshness used on Martha gone entirely, the new woman began talking to him.

"You gave us quite a scare there. Your friend," He heard the dislike in the voice when she referred to Martha. Probably racism- it had still been a common thing in the early 1900s earth. "said you'd wake up soon, but we really weren't sure. Still, here you are. You can stay until you're well enough to travel- my husband doesn't like having strangers in the house. Martha says you know some history, there's a school nearby and it needs a history teacher. I'm sure she could get a job as a maid- you could go there. We've already informed them you're here and may have an interest in the job, but of course, you could continue travelling if you wish." Her ceaseless chatter was mercifully stopped by a call from outside. "Girl- you can look after him for a bit. Go easy on the water though, there may be more here than you're used to, but that's no reason to overuse it." So it was racism then. The woman left and Martha returned to his side. She began brushing a damp cloth over his forehead. It soothed the fiery pain a little and he began to feel better.

"Sorry about her. She likes talking about anything and everything to anyone who will listen." Martha's gentle voice was a welcome relief from the louder tone of the other woman.

"Mrs Cartwright?" he managed to ask. His throat felt like sandpaper, and his mouth was sore.

"Yes. Hold on…" She raised his head, putting a glass of water to his lips. He drank greedily, emptying the glass within seconds. Martha laid him back on the pillow.

"Come on, get some sleep. You need it." Any other time, he might have argued. But he was so tired, and oblivion was looking very pleasant right now…

0-0-0

Martha noticed the change in breathing rate as the Doctor fell asleep. She suddenly realised how little he usually slept. Actually, she'd never seen him sleep at all. He was always around, doing something or other, no matter what she felt like. She looked over him. His hair was slightly messy, a brown spiky halo around his head. He looked so vulnerable, like a child. The sight tugged on all her heartstrings and she reached out a hand. What for, she didn't know, and never found out as at that moment Lucy Cartwright, the family's young daughter, skipped in. She paused by Martha.

"Mummy said he was awake." Martha smiled at the little girl.

"He was for a bit, but he needs to sleep so he'll get better."

"Will he be alright?" Seeing the worry in Lucy's eyes, Martha pulled her into a hug.

"'Course he will. Just you wait and see." The girl squirmed until she was sitting on Martha's lap, gazing solemnly at the Doctor.

"I hope he does. I like him."

"Lucy? We're off to market!" Mr Cartwright's voice broke the comfortable silence that had followed the girl's announcement.

"Bye Martha."

"Bye Lucy." Lucy got up, planted a kiss on the Doctor's forehead and skipped out to her parents, leaving Martha alone with the unconscious Time Lord. She looked down at him. His lips were slightly cracked from his earlier thirst. She wished he could have chosen somewhere more modern or, even better, elected to stay in the TARDIS. That way, she might have been able to find an IVF unit somewhere. If not from the TARDIS, then from a hospital or something. Hospital. That brought back memories. Running from the Judoon, meeting the Doctor, his kiss… As much as he insisted it had been a genetic transfer, she still held on to the hope that it signified some interest in her beyond friendship. It was certainly how she felt for him, not that he ever seemed to notice.

"Or maybe you do, and you don't want to tell me." She stopped as she realised she had spoken that last thought out loud and, shaking her head, returned to dabbing at the Doctor's forehead with the cloth.

0-0-0-0-0