Spiegel im Spiegel, Chapter 8

[fic_of_fork]

Word Count:  2893
Summary:  Like a mirror reflected into a mirror, choices made create an infinite of possibilities, and images seen may not be what they appear.  An encounter with an elusive, incorporeal race leads the Doctor and his allies on a dark journey.
Warnings:   Hopefully nobody is scandalized by the idea that priests wear pajamas.
Rating: Teen
Characters: Ten, Donna, Braxiatel, Torchwood, Original characters (Mike)
Genre: AU, Adventure
Author's Note:  Thanks to mtemplar_fic for the beta!  Also thanks to lindenharp and persiflage_1 for word advice. 
Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who, Torchwood, or any of its characters, and I'm receiving no profit from this beyond the joy of writing.

Chapter 7, Chapter 6, Chapter 5, Chapter 4, Chapter 3, Chapter 2, Chapter 1

"Donna!" the Doctor bellowed.

The sound of water stopped, and loud footsteps echoed across the floor. "This had better be flipping important," she said.

"Where did you leave Mike?"

"In Cardiff. Brax and I dropped him off, then went to the dinner with the Weevils in London. Well, they didn't invite Weevils, they just showed up. And it wasn't a proper dinner, either. You know the rest of it."

"You didn't leave him in New York?"

"English, Spaceman. Didn't you just hear me speak it?" Donna snarled, as she went back into the shower. After a few minutes, the sounds of the shower died away and Donna called, "I don't understand why Mike thinks Maggie's only been gone for three years."

The Doctor wandered upstairs and leaned against the wall opposite the bathroom door. Shouting through it, he explained, "Well, yeah, from his perspective Maggie's only been gone a few years. If Mike had stayed on Earth, that's what it would've looked like."

"How come I'm not affected? I remember everything that happened that time when we were in 1971 with Maggie. Then there's the bit with the Trickster. I remember their wedding, even. Sent a gift and everything."

"That's, uh, because of me. Or Brax. Or both of us. We're shielding you from the temporal effects of the infinite flux."

"I don't speak Time Lord," Donna snapped, as she exited the bathroom in a robe with a towel wound around her head.

"The thing is," the Doctor continued, ignoring Donna's barb, "is that it's not complete. Only certain aspects of Mike's timeline have been reversed. Do you know if Mike has a time ring?"

"He wore some kind of ring when I saw him. A gold band on his left hand, like he's married."

"He always does. Only wears his bishop's ring when it's important," the Doctor said. "But the band might not be a time ring." He hissed a disgusted sigh. "See, Mike's older than he should be, since he's pulled out of his own time line. I know he was given a time ring by the High Council, but I don't know if he had it on him. It would shield him from aging out of his own time line. They also give some functionality to travel in time. It might be what's causing the partial disturbance--someone tried to yank him out of the web of time, but only partially succeeded due to the chronon dampening of the time ring."

The Doctor thumped down the stairs and peered out of a window. "Hell of a time for Brax to get his knickers in a snit." He waited for a few moments in front of the window. "Donna, I'm going to see if I can't recall Mike by his time ring. Right now he's stuck between time lines, and if I can get him in a place that exists in some sort of temporal grace, it'll sort itself out," he yelled upstairs.

"Hang on," Donna said as she thumped downstairs. "With all the funny things happening, I'm coming with. We all know what happens, when my time line changes. What about Brax?"

"He can look after himself. We need to do something about Mike before his time line is changed beyond repair," the Doctor responded.

The Doctor opened the door and saw a silver car zipping past Donna's house. "Say, isn't that Martha's car?" he asked. Donna shrugged.

She followed the Doctor outside, after locking the door behind her, and walked along with him. The Doctor babbled on about temporal mechanics, but faded into an uneasy silence between the two of them. In the same tense pause, he unlocked the TARDIS and let Donna inside.

Once inside, she folded her arms around her and quietly said, "You left me on Gallifrey."

The Doctor was silent, absorbed in his task around the console.

"I don't hate you for what you had to do with my memories," Donna added. When the Doctor still didn't respond, she said, "But I don't understand why you left me behind. Do I mean that little to you?"

The Doctor looked up from the console, his face shadowed by the dim lighting. "You, all of you, mean too much."

"Well, you have an awfully odd way of showing it."

The Doctor sighed. "Everyone I've ever traveled with. Every friend, all my family, everyone I've ever loved. The one constant is that they all leave in the end."

Donna stared up at the ceiling of the TARDIS, then finally spoke, "Welcome to humanity, Spaceman. You think it's any easier for us, knowing we're going to die before you do?"

The Doctor said nothing as he danced around the console, his face darkening at Donna's unanswered question. Finally he threw a lever and said, "There!"

A hum began to build in the engines below the console room, and it grew in intensity until an outline of a man in pajamas slowly appeared then just as suddenly winked out. "If I'm good, then Mike will already be back on Gallifrey, safely behind the Transduction Barrier. Most temporally stable place I know. Guess that's why nothing ever changes there. Anyway, now that Mike's sorted, onwards! Next stop, Cardiff!"

Donna sighed. "How come you never mentioned Brax?"

"Not much to mention," the Doctor muttered, when the TARDIS was on its way.

"He misses you. Did you know that?" Donna quietly asked, her arms crossed in front of her, as she leaned on a coral beam.

The Doctor snorted sarcastically and shook his head. "Coming?" he asked as the TARDIS lumbered to a halt. "Parked on top of the lift to top things off while we're here."

"Denial ain't just a river in Egypt, sweetheart," she spat as she followed him out of the doors.

Donna nearly careened into the back of the Doctor. Following his gaze, she saw him staring intently at a man some distance from them, across the bustle of the Plas. In the bright sunlight, it appeared that the man--tall and thin--was wearing stark white clothes. She shielded her eyes from the sun, but couldn't see the man's features. Donna blinked and looked at the man once more. She thought that her eyes were momentarily blinded by the sun, since the white figure's features seemed to blur slightly.

"Who's that?" she asked the Doctor.

"I didn't think...not so soon," he acquiesced. With more conviction in his voice than he felt, he said, "Let's get a shift on, yeah?"

***

Braxiatel woke with a groan, and felt an irritation--like an insect bite--on the back of his shoulder. He tried to reach it with one arm, but his hands were bound with a plastic tie. Trying to focus his eyes in front of him, through fuzzy vision, he saw a dark-skinned woman with her hair pulled back into a bun.

"Madam President?" he mumbled, wondering if Ada had regenerated, since the woman in front of him was quite a bit shorter than he remembered the President of the Time Lords to be. As he became conscious, he realized with some embarrassment that the woman in front of him didn't resemble Ada in the slightest.

"Cheers for the compliment," the woman responded. "But I'm Martha Jones, this is Mickey Smith, and you're at Torchwood. Mind telling us what you were doing with Donna Noble?"

After concentrating on clearing the remaining tranquilizer from his bloodstream, Braxiatel looked around at his surroundings. He was bound hand and foot and in some sort of holding cell. The wall he faced was thick Plexiglas with holes to let air through, while the other walls were rough-hewn stone and mortar. A solid steel door blocked any chance of an escape.

"Being castigated by her mother, I believe," Braxiatel responded. "Can you please untie me? It's rather uncomfortable."

Martha nodded to Mickey, who stood near her. A few seconds later he entered the cell and cut off Braxiatel's bonds. "Gotta watch out for the mothers," he said. "Trust me, mate, I know all about it. Spent a year being questioned for a murder I didn't commit, when it was just my former girlfriend traveling all around time and space with another one of your kind. You know the Doctor?"

"I've known him practically forever," Braxiatel responded. "And, Martha Jones, I've heard about you." He wondered who taught her the trick of keeping a Time Lord out of her mind by silently repeating something. He cursed to himself that he'd have the song, "Grace Kelly" stuck in his head for days. "You've traveled with the Doctor, too, haven't you?"

"How do you know him?" Martha demanded.

Braxiatel gently touched his shoulder, as well as he was able. Taking his hand away, he noticed a spot of blood. "Does it matter? What am I doing here?"

"Time Lords have been attempting to abduct Donna all week. Why?" Martha demanded.

"Oh for the love of..." Braxiatel muttered. "That was weeks ago from our perspective. Perhaps you should check in with your superiors." He sniffed the air wafting in from the holes. "And both of you are so steeped in artron energy, it's bloody well obvious that both of you have traveled with the Doctor. Or some other Time Lord with an old Type 40 that does little to keep the Vortex energies out."

***

"Anybody home?" the Doctor called to the empty Hub. "Having a bit of a lie-in, are we?" Hands in his trouser pockets, he sauntered down the stairs to the holding cells. "Mickey! Martha!" he beamed, as they hugged him. Abruptly, he pushed himself away from their embraces, and gaped at the figure behind glass.

"What the hell are you doing?" the Doctor said. "Somebody's taking a pop at the time lines, and you're just sitting there?"

"Ask your friends, who've abducted me. Really, Doctor, don't you at least explain the concept of temporal flux to them? The Donna they were sworn to protect isn't the one standing behind you," Braxiatel tried to explain.

"Hello!" Donna said, waving to Braxiatel. He waved back and briefly smiled.

"He wasn't trying to abduct you?" Martha asked.

"Not in the least. Bloke owes me a dinner after last night," Donna replied. "And a very stiff drink."

"Do you know him?" Martha asked.

"Yup," the Doctor responded. "I should. Martha Jones, Mickey Smith meet Irving Braxiatel, collector of the infamous Braxiatel Collection, erstwhile Cardinal, and former Chancellor. Did I leave anything out? Not like you keep up your CV."

"Charmed," Braxiatel replied flatly.

"They're brothers," Donna offered. "Mad, isn't it?"

Martha gaped. "But, the Doctor said..."

"It's a long story," Braxiatel offered, quickly changing the subject. As Mickey let him out of the cell, Braxiatel rubbed his wrists from where the plastic tie had cut into them. "And if you want to blame anyone for alien abduction, perhaps you should ask the Doctor about Ian and Barbara. We had a hell of a time covering for him for that one."

"I bloody well knew it!" Donna exclaimed.

"Hold on," the Doctor said. "They barged their way into my TARDIS and refused to leave."

Martha laughed, her eyes sparkling. "Ian and Barbara Chesterton? The lovely couple we had dinner with in 1969? I knew they traveled with you, but I wish I'd had the full story then."

Laughing, they walked back upstairs. Braxiatel eyed the column that controlled the rift. There was a small box installed next to it. "There it is," he said. As he approached it, Jack stepped in front of it with his arms crossed.

"Where do you think you're going?" Jack said.

"It's technology you shouldn't have," Braxiatel responded.

"Tosh developed that to keep us safe," Jack said.

"Come on, Jack," the Doctor interjected. "I'm sure we can work something out, yeah?" To Braxiatel, he said, "How about we take a blind eye? You know, nudge and a wink. They'll only use it in emergencies. Right, Jack?"

Before they could argue further, faint sounds of profanity could be heard echoing through the tile-walled rooms. As a wind whipped through the Hub, Jack calmly walked to his office, poured a finger or two of Scotch into a waiting glass, and carried it down to the main part of the Hub where the argument had been interrupted. The swearing became louder, until a blue flash of light blazed, and out of it toppled Mike. Jack handed Mike the glass, which he gratefully drank in one gulp. Jack returned to his office and poured a bit more.

"I hate that thing," Mike said, gesturing to the plain gold band on his finger. "Really, I do. I know I'm protected from the Vortex because it's primed with Maggie's Imprimatur, so there's no risk of biological incompatibility, but..."

"Time travel without a capsule's no fun," Jack admitted, handing Mike the refilled glass.

"Think of the worst hangover, ever," Mike said, as he finished off his second glass. "Then multiply it. You're not even close. Come to think of it, a hangover would be an improvement." Mike examined the bottom of the glass, as if it would refill itself.

"Are you all right now?" Donna asked.

"Give me a minute to figure out what century my bowels are in," Mike said, "and I should be right as rain." He shook his head as if to clear it. "Oh wait, you meant my time line being screwed with. Yeah, that's all taken care of. My God, I've never been so happy to see Maggie in all my life. You know, Doctor, you could've at least called me to warn me that you'd be beaming me into the middle of the Panopticon in my PJ's. I could've had a quiet career at some out-of-the-way parish, where my biggest worries would be the holes in the roof--"

"But think of all you'd miss!" the Doctor interrupted.

"Yeah, you're right," Mike said. Shaking his head, as if to clear the remaining memory of his jaunt through the Time Vortex and the liquor, Mike remembered something he should've said earlier. "Oh yeah. Turn on a TV. Any channel. It's important." He handed the Doctor an envelope. "The High Council got that this morning."

Ianto flipped through the channels. "Not seeing anything," he said. "Or are we playing Venus in the World Cup?"

The Doctor sighed and passed the paper to Braxiatel, who read them intently. Looking up, he said, "They can't give in to their demands."

Jack was about to ask what was going on, when Gwen, who had come up behind them, motioned to the television screen. Every channel was playing the exact same thing: a body was staring into the camera, its eyes glazed from death. Its voice was flat and unemotional as it spoke, "People of Earth. Until the Time Lords of Gallifrey give in to our conditions, we will cull one tenth of your population every twelve hours. Do not resist. The deaths of those who cooperate will be quick and painless."

Ianto yawned. "It's all a bit uninspiring, as far as fear goes," he said. "Why, the Draconian, who crash landed last week gave us a better show. I'd like to know why aliens find the United Kingdom so appealing. Seems like every week someone has to have a go at us."

"It was a bit dull," Gwen agreed. "But I guess beggars can't be choosers, when you reanimate dead bodies."

"Let's get to work, people," Jack said. "We've got exactly eleven hours and fifty-five minutes until whoever it is goes postal." He turned to the Doctor and Braxiatel. "I want answers. Who are they? What do they want? And why are we being held hostage?"

The Doctor was silent for a moment, then began to speak, "They're the Mindwights. I had my ideas, but I hoped it wouldn't come to this. They're an incorporeal race that feed off of psionic energy. They were behind the Weevil attack last night, and Mike's disrupted time line."

"They also tried to wage a telepathic attack last night," Braxiatel explained. "As to their demands," he pulled out a pair of glasses from a pocket and began to summarize the papers he still held. "They want to feed off of Time Lords, specifically. They say they'll wait until the moment of death, even allowing them to be downloaded to the Matrix first."

"Why are the Time Lords making this our problem?" Jack said.

Mike handed Jack a gold seal of an intricate knot in the shape of the sign for infinity. "The High Council's seal," he said. "That's what I'm supposed to relay. They tried the usual--time loops on their planet, erasing them from history--but it failed. The Mindwights suddenly knew how to protect against everything the Time Lords would throw at them."

"And you know that with a planet as important to the Web of Time, the Time Lords aren't going to sacrifice it to save themselves," Braxiatel added.

"They can't give in," Martha said, indignant.

"Not our problem," Jack said, articulating each word. "They take the Time Lords before death, sounds win-win to me."

"They can't go running around with the entire knowledge of the Time Lords," Mike implored.

"Sounds to me like they already have it," Jack said.

"Can we save the drama for later?" Ianto broke in. "There are reports of an army of zombies headed our way."

[End note: the song "Grace Kelly" factors into the book, The Pirate Loop.]