HUMAN NATURE
edited as of march 10th, 2021
The morning of November tenth wouldn't have been memorable for anyone else, but waking up hidden under the blankets of John's bed, Charlotte would argue it was for her. Hearing someone other than the two of them in the room, and knowing she wasn't allowed to come into the school, Charlotte stays still.
"Sorry, sorry," John apologizes to his maid, Martha, as he puts a blanket over Charlotte, making it seem as if she were just a pile of blankets. "Sometimes I have these extraordinary dreams."
Martha opens the blinds, letting the sun into the room. "What about, sir?"
"I dream I'm this..." Thinking of the right word, he puts on a robe over his pajamas. "Adventurer. This... daredevil, a madman. 'The Doctor', I'm called. And last night I dreamt that you were there, as my companion."
Martha nods along. "A teacher and a housemaid, sir? That's impossible."
"Ah no, a man from another world, though..."
"Well, it can't be true because there's no such thing," she said to him.
John goes to the fireplace, twiddling with the watch sitting on top of it before glancing back to Martha. "There was this other person with us, a woman." Beginning to forget the dream, he scratched his head.
"And who was she?"
He shrugged. "I don't know, I didn't recognize her." Watching him from behind, Martha said nothing in hopes he'll say more, nevertheless, John moved away from the topic. "It's funny how dreams slip away." He points to her, saying, "But I do remember one thing, it all took place in the future. In the year of Our Lord two thousand and seven."
"I can prove that wrong for you, sir, here's the morning paper." Picking it up for him from the tray, she hands it over. "It's Monday, November tenth, nineteen-thirteen, and you're completely human, sir." Martha grins from the irony. "As human as they come."
He folds the paper up, knowing Mary likes to read them. "Mhm, that's me. Completely human." John smiles, and a minute later, Martha left the room.
Waiting a few seconds, Charlotte sits up in bed, wearing her dress from the day before. "Morning," she says. Clearing her throat, she takes the newspaper from him when he comes over to the bed. "How'd you sleep?"
"Good," answers John. "Sorry you had to hide, that was just Martha."
Charlotte nods. "Oh, she seemed nice."
"She is," he said. "But I didn't know if she'd tell others you were here."
Charlotte opens up the newspaper, giving him a side-eye. "I'm sure she wouldn't."
"Right," he said, quickly kissing her, initially taking her by surprise before she kissed him back. He pulls away, saying, "Have to get ready for the day." As she stays on the bed, flipping through the news, he goes into the closet to change.
Coming out in his typical grey suit, teacher's gown, and holding the mortarboard cap. Going to the mirror over the fireplace, he put on the cap, and adjusted it properly as he asks Charlotte, "What are you doing today? Without the library?"
"Oh, I don't know yet," she says, lowering the paper to look at him through the mirror. "Maybe I'll apply to a few places. The library owners are having me for lunch."
John nods. "I heard the school was looking for a new librarian," he said, causing her to lower the paper in intrigue. "The last one was fired."
Charlotte hums in thought. "Maybe, no promises."
Soon after he left for his first class, Charlotte seriously considered what she was doing. First, she lied to him about her name. Second, she lost her job, which gave her something to do every day. Third, she felt terrible for ignoring Martha since they came here. Finally, she was seriously considering applying to jobs for fun, because she honestly had nothing better to do that day, and because she didn't know how much longer they had here before they were met with the Family of Blood and before he remembered (and, possibly, forgets these weeks).
Once putting herself together, Charlotte walked out of his room and down the halls of the Boys' School as if she was supposed to be there. Not one student questioned her when she walked past, and when she saw Martha, not even she picked up her head from where she was dusting off photographs.
---
Charlotte was in the principal's office for the interview when the English teacher came in, alerting him John fell down the stairs. Cringing at the thought, she quickly asked if they could postpone the interview, as she knew him well. Once allowing it, she left the office and followed the path to his room, where the nurse, Joan, cleans a cut on the back of his head.
"Is he alright?" she asked the nurse calmly, having seen him in similar situations before. Surprised she got there so soon after the fall, he looked up to her questionably. "I was at the interview," she tells him. "Someone came in to tell the Headmaster. It was postponed."
"He'll be fine," Joan says. "Where do I know you?"
Charlotte glances at the back of his head. "I'm not sure, I worked at the library in town."
"Oh," drawled out Joan. "I saw you walking down the halls today."
Her eyes widened, but John replied, "I told her, but she already had an idea after seeing you."
Seeing the nurse so nonchalant about that, despite what would've gone on between the two of them in an alternate timeline, definitely eased Charlotte, as she sent a small smile to Joan. "I'm... Mary Thomas," she greeted her, close to saying her real name.
"Joan," she says, continuing to clean his cut, causing him to groan from the stinging. "Stop it. I get boys causing less fuss than this."
He scrunched his nose. "Because it hurts!"
Watching as the scar was cleaned, Charlotte put a hand on his shoulder. "You'll be fine if that means anything."
The door opens again for a frantic Martha, concerned more than anything. "Is he alright?"
"Excuse me, Martha," started Joan, pausing the cleaning. "It's hardly good form to enter a master's study without knocking."
Martha, annoyed, turned around, knocking on the door, before returning. "But is he alright?" she looks back down to the Doctor, still wincing from the pain. "They said you fell down the stairs, sir."
Hearing that said, he sunk in the chair. "It was just a tumble, that's all."
"Have you checked for a concussion?"
Joan raises her eyebrows at Martha. "I have. And I daresay I know a lot more about it than you."
"Sorry. I'll just..." she looks to John, waiting for him to say something, but he was still wincing. "Tidy your things." Going to his desk, she began to clean the top.
Remembering Mary's comment on Martha in the morning, John says, "I've been telling Mary... um, Mary Thomas, Martha Jones. Martha, Mary." The two women smiled at each other. "I've been telling Mary about my dreams." From where she was tidying things, Martha glanced at them in interest.
"They are rather remarkable," says Charlotte, moving from her spot to the couch beside him. "Continue."
"I keep imagining that I'm someone else and that I'm hiding..."
Charlotte tilts her head. "Hiding? How so?"
"Um, almost every night." He laughs to himself. "This is going to sound silly..."
"Tell me," she urged, crossing her legs on the couch.
"I dream, quite often, that I have two hearts."
Pretending to be surprised, Charlotte's eyes widened. "Oh, well, that's just impossible."
Joan began putting her things back in her bag, and John turned to Charlotte. "I have written some of these dreams in the form of fiction," he tells her, "... not that it would be of any interest."
Charlotte pats his hand. "'Course I'm interested."
He grins before seeing Joan packing her things. "Leaving?"
"I am still working, Mr. Smith," she said, before smiling at Charlotte. "Have a good day, Mary."
She returned the smile. "You too, Joan."
Once Joan left, and it was the two of them left with Martha, still tidying up, he takes the leather-bound journal from his desk, giving it to her. Sitting beside Charlotte on the couch, he watches as she opened it to the first page. "'Journal of Impossible Things,'" she read aloud.
She flips through the pages like a magazine, looking at the pictures, some bits unable to read with his messy handwriting, and others she couldn't see from the blur the TARDIS gave off even when she was outside of the ship.
A Slitheen, a gas-masked child, a Cyberman, a Dalek. "You drew these from memory?" she questions him.
He nods. "It's become a hobby."
She passed a page she couldn't read. A drawing of two autons were in the corner, followed by the clockwork robots she had yet to meet. "This is..." Mary turned the page again, only to find her name beginning a section. Quickly, she tried to discern what he said, but the text after her name was blurred.
"Who's Charlotte?" she asked him.
As if thinking deeply, John's eyebrows furrowed. "Well, I'm not positive, but... Do you remember that book you were reading the day we met? The atlas?" She nods, finding it embarrassing how she got mad when he flipped to the page on the Dumbbell Nebula.
"Well," he started, "the night after I saw that nebula, I had this dream that I, the Doctor, was there with her."
Charlotte looked to the ground, nodding, she was looking back on the one time she was there, before going back to listening when he continued.
"I sometimes think how magical life would be if things like this were true," he commented, and, to her surprise, she wished for him to know the truth. It would be easy to tell him, however, she knew she couldn't just yet.
Charlotte gave a tight smile. "If only."
On her way back to the interview, Charlotte was holding the journal John promised her with when Martha approached her.
"Ma'am!" she called her, to Charlotte's surprise. "That book..."
Unsure what sort of game Martha was playing by pretending to not know her, Charlotte went along with it in confusion. "... He said I could read it," she tells her, close to leaving.
"But it's silly, that's all." Mary raised an eyebrow, and Martha said, "Just stories."
Looking around, yet seeing no one, Charlotte becomes even more confused. "Don't worry, I've already read them before." She looks to the clock on the wall, seeing it tick closer to her interview's time. "I have to go," she said, moving down the hall to the headmaster's room.
---
After lunch with the library owners, Charlotte got herself invited to dinner, and, asking if she could invite John, she was glad when they agreed. However, once the dinner finished, the two found themselves passing the pub nearby the school, catching both Joan, Martha, and Martha's friend, Jenny, watching the sky.
This time, Charlotte was sure things were progressing and the happy few weeks away from the chaos were coming to a close.
"... Commonly known as a meteorite," John told the women. "It's just rocks falling to the ground, that's all."
"It came down in the woods," said Joan.
He shook his head. "No, no, they always look close, when they're actually miles off. Nothing left but a cinder."
As if she was trying to believe it herself, Charlotte smiles at Joan. "Come on, we'll bring you to the school... Either of you want to join?" She looks to Martha and Jenny, but neither accepts.
Martha, still watching the sky, shakes her head. "No, we're fine, thanks."
"Then I shall bid you goodnight," says John, putting his hat back on, leaving the scene with Joan and Charlotte.
---
Unaware of where she was when waking up the next day, Aino nearly fell back down when seeing the Doctor, or, John Smith, sleeping beside her. She steps out of bed slowly, not wanting to wake him up, and heads to the window, moving the curtains slightly to see the first orange of the sunrise.
Her head turns when seeing John waking up, grumbling, "... What're you doing?"
"Just looking out the window, good day for a walk."
While he wondered how she could have so much energy at dawn, he fell right back to bed without asking the question and she sat on the couch, tilting her head back before falling asleep.
Two hours later, Aino woke up to the sounds of gunfire. A sound that caused her to tense with every round fired, and echoing into the room. Standing up from the couch, she looks out the open curtains to see children practicing their aim on scarecrows.
And with every practice shot, came the bang, and every other time Aino became angrier... What part of the curriculum would this be? What are they doing to the kids? Why would Charlotte have been okay with this?
Once dressed, she stomped out of the school. When seeing her near him, John grins, letting the headmaster take his place as he moves away. "Mary," he greeted her when they met. "How did you sleep?"
"Great," she answered. "Until I woke up to gunshots."
"Oh, well, the boys are practicing."
Mary looked behind him to the kids, watching as one aimed and then shot the scarecrow. "I'm sorry, John, but I thought you didn't like guns?"
He tilts his head. "I don't think I've said anything about them."
"Well, I might be biased, but they're nothing good."
He stepped closer, in case anyone could hear. "What do you mean?"
---
Aino and John, the most unlikely pair, walked through Farrington. As they did so, Aino found herself opening up to the man. "Years ago, I ran away from my hometown, returning again as an adult. My parents were killed just days later. I was shot." Aino bit her tongue, finding it becoming harder to find what to say. "Yet, here I find myself, at a military school."
Even as he said it, John knew it wasn't the best reply. "Don't you think discipline is good for them?"
"Discipline? Perhaps. Military discipline? I'm not sure those boys will find war so amusing."
"Well... Great Britain's at peace, long may it reign," he said in response, as they crossed the street.
Aino sighed, exasperated, yet amused. "I flipped through that journal earlier, you wrote about nineteen fourteen."
"That was just a dream," says John, shaking his head.
"Then pretend it's real," she demands easily, in a way Mary was seen only a handful of times.
In thought, John had to pause for a moment before he began. "Well, if it were true, then I hope people will understand warfare and bloodshed isn't the key to proving oneself; everyday life can provide honor and valor, and... let's hope that from now on this country can find its heroes in a smaller place..."
As they stopped walking, and now facing each other, Aino looks past him, seeing a woman pushing a carriage, the mother not taking notice of the piano hanging down on a breaking rope.
"-In the most ordinary of deeds," John finishes off, just before Aino pushes past him. Getting as close as she could before the piano's rope broke, she screamed at the top of her lungs so the mother would hear her from across the road. Annoyed by the shriek, the woman stops with her carriage, curiously turning to Aino, just for the piano to fall in front of them a second later.
A couple of strangers came up to Aino, wondering if she was okay, just for her to wave them back. Going back to stand in front of the flabbergasted John with a proud smile, Aino thought to herself, 'I still got it.'
"Lucky," he said. "Very lucky."
Aino gave him a blank stare. "Oh, please. You could never have done that."
"Probably not, come on." As she follows him back down the way they came, Aino, for the very first time since this has started, didn't dread leaving as she knew she'll be back.
Charlotte follows beside John as he led her down the sidewalk hidden between the library and coffee shop. As he looks back and forth, seeing if anyone was nearby, Charlotte looks up to the sky, seeing it as gloomy as it was yesterday, with the sun peeking out at them ever so slightly.
When she takes her head down, John, fueled by the brilliant action Aino just committed, kissed her softly, with her reciprocating. Pulling away a second later, it was only a matter of building up his courage before he asks, "May I invite you to the village dance this evening?"
Of course, at that moment, Charlotte had the stupidest smile on her face as she agreed. She's going to the dance, and the only part that hurt is that she was going as 'Mary'.
---
Having missed reading the newspaper for that day, Charlotte sits cross-legged on the armchair with the paper out while John sits on the couch, sketching out something in his journal.
Charlotte, however, only stared blankly at the recent news, her mind occupied with conflictions she didn't know how to address. For the first time, Charlotte realized how she should've told him her real name, and how she shouldn't have lied to him in order to fill her desire to pretend that she was someone else.
Was that selfish? If it wasn't, she still felt terrible for the lies and wanted nothing more than to tell him, yet she knew if she did then he would believe she was making fun of him from the journal.
John carefully tears the picture out of his journal, slowly enough that it caught her ear, but didn't bring her to lower the newspaper. "Mary?" he says her name, once the drawing was fully taken out of the journal, the tear almost perfect.
She lowers the newspaper, folding it up and onto the table. "Yes?" she says before he asks her to sit beside him, which she does. "What is it?"
"I made this for you," he tells her, yet doesn't hand the hidden sketch yet. "I don't know why it's special to you, but, to me, it reminds me of when we first met."
It shouldn't have surprised Charlotte, but when she was handed the drawing and flipped the paper to reveal it, it was clear to her what it was of. In her hand was the Dumbbell Nebula, and she could see its colors when she closed her eyes, but in her palm was it in black and white.
"It's amazing." she smiles. "I'm serious. How do you put the stars in just as they are? And without a picture?"
John chuckles. "You speak like you've been there."
Charlotte turns to face him. "Oh? Maybe I have."
Pretending to take her claim seriously, he nods as he replies, "Well if you've been there before then I'm the Doctor."
"And if you're the Doctor, then I'm Charlotte Mary Bolton," says Charlotte, enjoying the irony in it all. And, technically, she did tell him the truth just then, and if not, she's sure he'll find out soon. If not now, he will later that night, and the thought that this could possibly be one of their final moments before the time came to a close brought her to kiss him.
John put a hand on her cheek, deepening the kiss just a moment before the door opened. The two pull away when hearing the door open. Both of them turn to see Martha standing in the doorway, stunned.
"Martha, what have I told you about entering unannounced?" said John, annoyed by the woman before she backed out, closing the door in shock.
Charlotte stared at the door for a moment, believing it'd open again before she turned back to him. "You should be nicer to her," she advised him.
---
Borrowed from the library owner's wife, Charlotte wore a sage green dress covered in flowers. After trouble with getting her hair into the perfect bun, Charlotte stepped out of the bathroom and back into the room where John was already ready for the dance in his nicest suit and bowtie.
"You look wonderful," he tells her sincerely.
Charlotte blushes. "You should warn me of what to expect, can you dance?"
Minutes later, while John stayed back in the room to finish getting ready, Charlotte is outside to get some fresh air. After having a chat with the headmaster, and once he left her, John came outside fuming. As they began their walk to the village hall, Charlotte looks at him.
"Are you alright?" she asks John.
"It's Martha," he tells her, and Charlotte suddenly knew what it was. "I had to dismiss her, just moments ago. Came into my room and was saying all of these insane things! The nerve of it!"
Charlotte sighed. She didn't know why Martha hasn't tried to speak to her at all, in the numerous times they've run into each other. However, she also knows they'll meet again during the dance. Maybe she'll confront her about it then if she can get a word in.
---
The village hall, while full of couples, had a way about it to make it seem like one had more personal space than they did. At the front of the dancing area, an ensemble plays music on their instruments as the people mill about.
At a standing table, Charlotte and John's heads perk up when the announcer says over all the noise, "Ladies and gentlemen! Please take your partners for a waltz."
Taking their place on the dance floor, John's hands went to her waist, and Charlotte, not sure what to do with hers, put her hands on his shoulders as they began dancing. "You proved me wrong," she commented. "You can dance."
"I can surprise myself sometimes," said John, just before knocking into another pair. Mumbling an apology, when they got far away enough from that couple, Charlotte stifled her laugh.
As the music continues, and as her ankles began burning, Charlotte turns in the dance, looking around behind John to see, in the corner of the room, a little girl at the table. As if seeing an omen, she turns their waltz back around. Charlotte, if she had a choice, refuses to look at anything of the such until it was time.
Soon, the waltzing music came to its final measure, and John and Mary returned to their table. Seeing her panting after the dance, John leaves her to get drinks. Charlotte, sitting down, glanced up from her hands to the little girl more times than she could count. She was being so, undoubtedly, selfish that she's chosen to hide rather than help Martha, and now things were getting worse, and she still wouldn't give it up.
Looking up again for the girl, Charlotte instead saw Martha approaching her, stopping across from her. "Um, hello..." she greets her.
Martha immediately starts by asking her, "He's different from any other man you've ever meet, right?"
Charlotte nods slowly. "Yes?"
"And sometimes he says these strange things, like people and places you've never heard of, yeah?" Martha continues. "But it's deeper than that. Sometimes when you look in his eyes you know; you just know that there's something else in there." Leaning over the table, Martha looks her in the eyes. "Something hidden. Right behind the eyes, something hidden away. In the dark."
Charlotte's eyebrows scrunched in confusion. "Excuse me...?"
"Just think," urges Martha, "but the awful thing is it doesn't even matter what you think-" Charlotte's mouth dropped, shocked. "-But you're nice. And you're lucky. And I just wanted to say sorry for what I'm about to do."
Mary couldn't care less what Martha was about to do, what she cares about the most is understanding what could've driven her to say what she said as if she didn't recognize Charlotte in front of her.
Returning to the table with the drinks, John groans when noticing Martha. "Oh, now really, Martha. This is getting out of hand. I must insist that you leave."
Instead of leaving, Martha pulls an object out of her pocket that catches both of their eyes, the sonic screwdriver. "Do you know what this is? Name it. Go on, name it," she tells him. John took the screwdriver from her hands, and, for the first time in weeks, Charlotte's inner-monologue refrained from calling him 'John', as seeing him with the sonic was enough in tricking her for a split-second he was the Doctor.
"You're not John Smith," Martha says. "You're called the Doctor. The man in your journal, he's real. He's you."
Clarke, an old farmer, enters the village hall, knocks down a hat stand when he enters the room followed by Jenny and Baines. Holding out a gun, Clarke shouts over the shrieks, "There will be silence! All of you!"
As the Scarecrows follow in after them, Charlotte stands up, staying calm as she tried to think of the situation at hand.
"I said silence!" shouts Clarke, pointing the futuristic gun around.
"Mr. Clarke!" replies the announcer. "What's going on?" Without an ounce of hesitation, Clarke points the gun and shoots him, dissolving the man into nothing.
Backing up, Martha tells John, "Everything I told you, just forget it! Don't say anything."
"We asked for silence!" shouts Baines, a schoolboy which John recognizes. The room goes silent. "Now then. We have a few questions for Mr. Smith."
The little girl from the back of the room skips to the front with her balloon. "No, better than that," she says. "The teacher. He's the Doctor. I heard them talking."
Baines looks to the Doctor, impressed. "You took human form."
"Of course I'm human, I was born human!" he exclaimed. "As were you, Baines. And Jenny, and you, Mr. Clarke! What is going on, this is madness!"
"And a human brain, too!" Baines chuckles. "Simple, thick, and dull."
Jenny scrunches her nose. "He's no good like this."
Clarke agreed. "We need a Time Lord."
"Easily done," says Baines, stepping forward with the gun, pointing it to John, causing the crowd to gasp. "Change back."
With the gun pointed to his head, John recoils. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"Change back!" he demands.
"I literally do not know...!" shouts John.
Jenny, grabbing Martha roughly, drags her to the side, pointing her gun to her head. "Get off me!" shouts Martha.
"She's your friend, isn't she?" Jenny questions him. "Doesn't this scare you enough to change back?"
Exasperated and confused, John exclaims, "I don't know what you mean!"
"Wait a minute..." Jenny looks around as if remembering something. "The maid told me about Smith and the librarian." She points the gun at Charlotte. "That woman, there!"
Charlotte backs up, about to make a run for it, when Clarke approaches her. "Let's have you!" he says, taking her by the forearm. She tries to squirm out of his grip, however, after he points a gun at her she refrains from doing so.
Baines smirks at John, still pointing his gun at him. "Have you enjoyed it, Doctor? Being human? Has it taught you wonderful things, are you better, richer, wiser?" he questions, each word spat out like poison. "Then let's see you answer this. Which one of them do you want us to kill? Maid or librarian? Your friend, or your lover? Your choice."
With the gun to his head, John looks to the two women in the grips of their foes. He couldn't choose, yet there was a gun to his head forcing him to. Maybe the Doctor would've had a clever way to get out of here, but John wasn't the Doctor, and, thus, he didn't have any plan.
_______
Next up: Charlotte and Aino (The Family of Blood)
GIF FROM notyoujamie ON TUMBLR
a/n
John and mary are about to go through the wringer // how did this fit into one chapter im impressed with myself // i feel like this chapter had so MUCH compacted