Chapter 17: A Bit of Trouble

He spent the first hour trying to convince himself he was not in the least upset that both his companions had decided to ditch him. He also spent that first hour convincing himself that he definitely wasn't sulking about it...Only he was sulking. Lips hanging in a permanent frown, and all the stories he had been planning to tell Rose about the planet and the artwork skittering across his mind in a dejected manner.

But he felt just a bit entitled to sulk. He couldn't help but feel disappointed that Rose had so quickly slipped away from him the second they'd landed here, especially when he'd hoped this trip would help reconcile things between them in the usual fashion. All the times before, whenever he and Rose had gotten into anything resembling an argument, they were usually able to move past it fairly quickly by sweeping it all under the rug; his preferred technique for handling these kinds of delicate situations. The ones that involved explaining that the reason he was being such an arse was because on some days he looked at her and all he could see were the seconds slipping silently away, burdening and weighing her down. Her time passing and passing. The one thing that he, a Time Lord, could not stop.

And for the most part she let him do this, followed his lead and let past words or actions be left behind. They kept moving forward without stopping, hoping against hope to outrun the passage of time, impossible, inevitable as that may be. She'd always understood this, Rose did. Always knew how to handle him; when to let things go and when to push just the right amount to make him open up to her. And she always knew when he wouldn't or couldn't talk about something, when he desperately needed her to just let it be forgotten.

Such was their routine from the very beginning, and as more time had passed with her traveling with him, the more he came to love her for her uncanny ability to know exactly the right thing to say in any situation. Admittedly, some days the thought of how well she knew him could leave him a terrified mess. There was no hiding from one Rose Tyler. Regardless, he still found himself slowly opening up to her. It seemed that nothing could tear them apart because soon after they were always able to just brush it aside and carry on. Take eighteenth century France for example. As much as he'd probably deserved to be yelled at after that fiasco, Rose in her ever understanding of him, had left it be. She'd been there for him, an unwavering presence even when he didn't deserve it, and he'd fallen just a little bit harder.

She was making it quite clear, however, that the same approach wouldn't work this time around. He'd finally pushed her too far. He couldn't even blame her for not forgiving him as she normally would. He deserved it. Truly he did. She had every right to sleep with John if that was what she wanted. She had every right to never forgive him, to hold him at the same distance that he had previously been holding her. She had every right to not be at his side right at this moment.

But he still worried.

Worried he wouldn't earn her trust again. Worried that she would leave him. Worried that it would be voluntary. Worried that it wouldn't. And he worried, as another hour passed and neither of them were anywhere in sight, that they had somehow managed to find trouble in what was supposed to have been a completely safe and (hopefully) forgiveness-earning trip. Alas, it wasn't like it'd be the first time that he'd been wrong. Or that she'd wandered off.

He walked quickly through the crowds of people, down hallway after hallway of the large museum, his hearts hammering in his chest as his companions remained out of sight. They wouldn't have left the museum, right? Not without telling him? Of course they would, he thought, shaking his head. He wouldn't put it past them at all. They weren't children after all and they were both clearly eager to be as far away from him as possible. He couldn't help wondering if they were together at this moment. Then he had to push that thought viciously aside, unable to decide if it would be better or worse.

The Doctor had to work very hard to not let what he knew had happened between John and Rose bother him. Because it did bother him. A whole lot. He felt blinded with anger and he wanted to do a whole lot more than just punch John on some days. Jealousy was an old friend of his where Rose Tyler was concerned, but this definitely took the cake. But hadn't he known that this is what was going to happen? Isn't this what the beast had said? And besides, John had been right the other day, he had asked for this through his behavior. Now he would have to live with it. He would have to be okay with being Rose Tyler's best mate. Well, at the moment it was debatable if he could even get himself back to best mate status as it was.

The Doctor sighed, pushing those thoughts aside to focus his energy on finding his companions. Why, oh, why did they always insist on wandering off? It always just led to one big headache for him in the end.

He continued through the museum, trying not to appear anxious even as his eyes wildly scanned the cavernous hallways. He was getting more antsy as the seconds ticked by and he shoved his hands in his pockets to keep them still, only to encounter the cool metal of his sonic screwdriver.

"Oh, I am so thick, sometimes!" he muttered to himself as he let his hand grip around the cylindrical object.

He yanked the screwdriver out of his pocket, his fingers fidgeting madly with the controls for a few long minutes, muttering under his breath when the machine didn't immediately do what he wanted. But finally, after some more careful fiddling, it latched on to Rose's biological signature with a sharp beeping sound. Passer biers startled at the noise and a few turned to regard him oddly. One lady in a ridiculous hat went so far as to gasp at the unfamiliar device in his hand, but he hardly noticed in his worry. The whispers and pointing drowned out by his own single-minded focus to find Rose and somehow fix everything that had gone wrong. So, he began following the signal, feeling a drop of relief as the screwdriver produced readings of Rose's vitals, letting him know that wherever she was she was perfectly okay. He'd taken maybe two steps, however before strong arms gripped him from behind, pulling his arms painfully behind his back. He yelped in surprise, the screwdriver falling from his grasp. Another man went to pick it up, and then dropped it into some metal box that he was carrying.

Panic swept him hard, barreling into his gut as he watched his only chance for finding Rose slip away into a cold metal casing. He struggled against his captor, a small crowd beginning to form all around them, the museum goers watching the struggle with wide, curious eyes.

"What's this now?" he demanded, wondering how all these people could just stand and watch as he was attacked.

"Sir," the man standing in front of him said, bringing the Doctor's attention to him and for the first time, he noticed that the man seemed to be wearing some kind of uniform. Oh. "We're going to have to ask you to come with us."

No. No. No. He had to find Rose. He couldn't afford this detour. "Now, now, I'm sure we can figure this out without all this fuss. What have I done, anyway? I'm just looking for my friends-"

"You've been charged with unauthorized use of a weapon in a public place and disturbance of the peace," the man said, bringing out a tablet device from his pocket and beginning to type on it calmly and efficiently.

"No, no, no, no, listen! That device, the one you took, I promise it's nothing harmful. I was just using it to try and find my friend, I mean friends. A simple misunderstanding, really. Now, please, if you could just let me go I can-"

"Protocols," the man interrupted him firmly, not so much as bothering to spare an upward glance. "No device should have gotten passed our security system in the first place. We'll need to bring you in. If what you say is true then there shouldn't be much of a problem, and you'll get your device back soon enough. It is necessary that we check since this museum is a sacred place. Certain technology can disturb the art, you understand." A ding sounded on his device. "Transport has been authorized."

The Doctor was getting desperate as he felt the familiar click of handcuffs on his wrists. "No wait, just listen for a second, my friends-" He struggled weakly against the bonds as they began to lead him away from the excited gossip of the patrons.

"Sir, if you do not cooperate we will be forced to sedate you."

The Doctor immediately stopped resisting, the thought of being sedated making his lips curl up in distaste. He reluctantly allowed himself to be pushed and prodded further into the recesses of the museum. There was a transport pod near the back and the color drained from his face when he saw it. Where were they going to take him? No, he had to stay, Rose and John were...Fire burst in his veins, telling him to fight and find them, but he tamped it down best he could knowing that he wouldn't be any help if he was out cold for the next few hours. He would have to go along with their demands for now until he could think of some way to escape and get his screwdriver back.

"Where are you taking me, then?" he asked, trying to keep his usual calm and cheerful tone despite the worry eating away at his nerves.

The guard gave him a deprecating look. "We will bring you to the palace where you will await in a holding cell for trial."

The Doctor sighed. Great.

The two guards started up the teleport, keeping a tight hold on him lest he try and escape. Technology during this time in Aenona's history was crude at best and so he wasn't too surprised by how unpleasant the transport was, twisting and bending his insides then rearranging them back together again on the other side. It was a highly disorienting feeling, one however that he recovered from fairly quickly, superior biology and all. The guards took a moment longer to catch their breath and he flirted with the idea of trying to escape from their grasp, but ultimately decided against it. He wouldn't get very far with his hands cuffed and undoubtably there would be more guards lurking throughout the palace, on alert for any signs of trouble. And besides, he really needed his screwdriver back if he was going to find Rose and John.

When the guards had finally caught their breath they lead him through the maze of hallways. The castle, while beautiful, was very sparse in decorations since Aenona valued necessity and purpose to wealth and riches. Most of its adornments were, in fact, the tapestries that this planet so richly favored, hung on the wall in embossed, wooden frames. The Doctor took in everything around him, memorizing the twists and turns and paintings he saw so that when he ultimately escaped (and he would escape) he would know the paths he should take to get out of here.

The guards chattered amiably for some time, though the Doctor didn't pay much attention to them, engrossed as he was in memorizing the layout of the building. They traveled for another ten minutes, the Doctor stumbling only two or three times when he became too lost in constructing his mental map of the building to focus on where he was going; not that being handcuffed helped much with keeping his center of balance either. Finally, they stopped in front of a simple looking door with a lock mechanism in place. One of the guards tapped in a code, the other guard frustratingly blocking his view. He was then led down a hallway where rows of prisons cells lined the way. The cells were refreshingly comforting compared to the many previous ones he'd stayed in, if still terribly basic. The Doctor knew this was a recent development on the planet Aenona, one that was put in place right at the beginning rule of King Mercellius.

"Oh, this is lovely," he said, genuinely pleased as he took in soft looking bed sheets and bedside dressers. "Definitely in my top five! Although, I must say that nothing could top Rose and I's stay on Frefrea. They gave us a five-course meal! Can you imagine that! Treat prisoners like royalty there, the frefreans do! They hope that a small bit of kindness will help dissuade wrong-doing in the future. It's been quite successful, I must say!"

Neither of the guards responded, instead tightening their grip and pulling him

"Though, I'm not sure why you insist on putting me all the way in the back when most of these are empty any-"

He stopped abruptly, his eyes going wide as he peered into one of the only occupied cells. The guards who had initially tried to drag him further along also stopped to stare amazedly at the occupant of the cell.

John smiled up at them charmingly from his position on the small bed, his legs crossed underneath him. "Hello, Doctor. Fancy seeing you here."

This snapped the Doctor out of his shock immediately and with wild eyes he began searching desperately for any sign of pink and yellow in the remaining cells. When his eyes once more landed on John, a pleading expression on his face, the other man just shook his head minutely to let him know that Rose wasn't down here. The Doctor took in a rugged sigh of defeat.

The guards were still flapping their jaw uselessly between them. John regarded them and raised his eyebrow slightly. "Are they alright?"

"They don't really have a concept of twins here," the Doctor explained, voice bordering on condescending. "Bless. We've given them quite a fright."

At his words, the guard that still held his screwdriver captive seemed to snap to attention to regard the Doctor. "What is the meaning of this!" he demanded, red-faced.

The Doctor simply shrugged and remained quiet, smiling as he watched both fear and awe encompass their faces as they looked back and forth between the two of them. Unfortunately, their grip on his arm was still too tight to try and fight off.

A sudden beeping sound had John flinching backwards violently and one of the guards digging through his pockets to pull out the tablet the Doctor had seen earlier. As the man's eyes scanned frantically through the message, his face paled.

"We have to go," he said urgently and quietly to his friend after he'd finished reading. "Here put him in a cell, all the guard is being summoned to the throne room. There's been an emergency."

The Doctor was shoved roughly in the cell opposite of John, a luxury he may not have had if not for the obvious distress that had descended upon the two men. It wasn't long before both of the guards were long gone.

"Wonder what that was about?" he mused, rubbing at his shoulder where he'd been pushed. John made a small noise in his throat in reply that had the Doctor raising his eyebrows at the other man's sheepish expression.

"That might have something to do with me actually...You see the King was almost poisoned and, umm, yeah they think it was me who tried to poison him." John rubbed the back of his neck. "Which is quite rude really seeing as I was the one to save his life! Just because I was the one they found with that vial that happened to have traces of poison on it doesn't mean-"

"Woah, wait. You might want to start from the beginning here." The Doctor's eyes narrowed. "You know this is why I'm always telling you both not to wander off. You've gone and gotten yourself involved in a murder plot!"

John's expression shifted from sheepish to indignant in a heartbeat. "Hey, you should be thanking me. I've kept the so called ruler of the 'Golden Age of Aenona' from being viciously murdered before his time, thank you very much. Without me the time lines might be in turmoil right about now. Tell me, Doctor what've you been up to these last few hours? Besides getting into trouble, huh?"

"I've been searching for you two! And it's not like you weren't getting into trouble too. In fact, I would say you are in significantly more trouble than I am if they find you guilty."

"I know! It's rubbish, especially when I keep telling them who really did it! But no they have to analyze the crime scene first. Blah, blah, blah and all the while the real murderer is probably legging it. Idiots."

"Best be getting out of here then so we can set everything straight. Why don't you tell me what happened?" the Doctor said, as he plucked a stray bobby pin out of his pockets (one of Rose's) to try picking the lock of the cell.

"Oh right! Yes! Okay, so I ran into Rose-"

The Doctor's head shot up sharply. "Rose! I thought she wasn't with you, you shook your head!" The Doctor felt something cold enter his stomach. "Where is she now?"

"Calm down," John said in an appeasing manner. "Let me explain, I'll make it quick. We ran into each other and overheard this plot to kill the King back in that museum, odd place to crack a murder plot, ehh, but to each their own I guess. Anyway, they found us and knocked us out cold with their telepathy. Nasty headache, that. We woke up in this really posh suite. No idea why we were taken there. There's no way out and we wait there for an hour or so before this beeping starts up, right? It was coming from my wrist, then I was just transported to this whole new spot all of the sudden, all dizzy and disoriented. I was holding this vial, this glass vial, right near the spot of the throne room. I think someone had set me up to make it seem as if I had been the one to poison the King. But there was something, right after I ended up there, all these weird thoughts were going through my head, but I d-don't...they weren't my own, like thoughts about how I had to kill him. Kill him and get away. Anyway, I was eventually able to gather my wits and stop him from drinking it, but I passed out soon after. When I came around I was locked down in here. They told me I was a suspect of the murder until they or I could otherwise prove my innocence, said they can't risk it-Hey! What's wrong with you?"

"You, you said that, there was some kind of teleport. That you ended having those weird thoughts and that you were holding a vial?" the Doctor said, his hands shaking where he was gripping the bars of the cell, his eyes boring into John's.

"Yeah? What about it?"

"Oh, this is not good. Very not good." The Doctor's face was pale and the fear that had nestled deep in his belly the moment he'd realized Rose was missing unfurled.

"What?" John asked, catching onto the Doctor's panic, his eyes darting helplessly between the Time Lord's. "What is it?"

"I have a good idea what kind of transport was used on you. Show me your wrist, would you?"

John acquiesced, holding out his wrist through the bars as far as he could so the Doctor could get a good look. "You can't really see it, it's underneath my skin and all." John's voice was apologetic.

"I don't need to see it." The Doctor's tone was incredibly grim. "I know exactly what kind of transporter that is. Taking in the size and shape and then factoring in the time period and development of this planet and what you've told me I've got a pretty solid guess. No, better than a guess. I'm almost one hundred percent positive I know what kind of transporter that is."

"What? What is it? You've looked as if you've seen a ghost!"

The Doctor closed his eyes. "John, that transporter has taken the killer directly to Rose."