The Man Who Regrets : Doctor Who [1] ✓

25 : The Doctor’s Daughter

The aftermath of the Sontarans attempt to take over Earth, kill a lot of humanity, or whatever they were planning on doing leaves Martha in the TARDIS with Violet, the Doctor and Donna. The door slams shut on its own and the time rotor activates, throwing everyone around. Violet cries out as her arm smashes hard against the railing, breaking the two large bones in her forearm.

“What?” the Doctor exclaims. “What?”

“Doctor, don’t you dare,” Martha yells angrily.

“No, no, no. I didn’t touch anything. We’re in flight. It’s not me.”

“Where are we going?” Donna demands.

“I don’t know. It’s out of control!”

“Doctor, just listen to me,” Martha snaps. “You take me home. Take me home right now!”

Everyone is hanging on to the console, Martha holding on for dear life beside Donna, and the Doctor is looking around wildly, pressing buttons and trying to get the TARDIS to cooperate with him. Violet is holding on best she can with one arm - and her non-dominant arm at that!

“What the hell’s it doing?” Donna asks.

“The control’s not working,” the Doctor exclaims before he gets thrown about and gets a look at the jar at the base of the time rotor. “I don’t know where we’re going, but my old hand’s very excited about it.”

“I thought that was just some freaky alien thing,” Donna cries. “You telling me it’s yours?”


“It got cut off,” Violet groans, holding her broken arm to her body. “He grew a new one.”

“You are completely impossible,” Donna complains.

“Not impossible,” the Doctor says with a grin. “Just a bit unlikely.”

There’s a bang, and sparks, then stillness and peace. Violet is thrown to the ground, pain flying through every nerve in her broken arm as she lands on it. Cursing in an ancient language, she forces herself upright and takes hold of the console, pulling up herself until she’s standing on wobbly legs. The Doctor spares her a worried look before runs outside.

Violet pulls the monitor around and plays around with it until it shows what the outside looks like, and she can hear what is being said. It looks like a junk yard in a railway arch at night, the Doctor standing just outside the TARDIS alone until he’s joined by Martha and Donna. Violet decides that it’s best she stays inside, with a broken arm and all, it’s not going to be much fun.

“Why would the Tardis bring us here, then?” the Doctor asks himself.

“Oh, I love this bit,” the dark-skinned woman says with a grin, making Violet smile.

“I thought you wanted to go home,” Donna says in disbelief.

“I know, but all the same, it’s that feeling you get.”

“Like you swallowed a hamster?”

“Don’t move!” a man orders. “Stay where you are! Drop your weapons.”

Three men are pointing rifles at the time travellers, so they raise their hands.

“We’re unarmed. Look, no weapons. Never any weapons,” the Doctor assures the soldiers. “We’re safe.”

“Look at their hands,” one of the men says. “They’re clean.”

“All right, process them,” the first man orders. “Him first.”

The two other soldiers take the Doctor.

“Oi, oi. What’s wrong with clean hands?” the alien demands.

“What the fuck is going on?” Violet whispers in disbelief, eyes widening when she sees that the Doctor is taken to a machine and his right arm is pushed inside it.

“Leave him alone,” Donna orders.

Something inside grabs his arm. “Something tells me this isn’t about to check my blood pressure. Argh!”

“What are you doing to him?”

“Everyone gets processed,” the man in charge explains shortly.

“It’s taken a tissue sample. Ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow, ow. And extrapolated it. Some kind of accelerator?” The Doctor is released a moment later.

“Are you alright?” Martha asks, hurrying over and checking his hand.

There is a graze on the back of his hand. “What on earth? That’s just…”

A pair of glass and metal doors open and a figure steps out from the steam of the brightly lit interior. She is a skinny blonde woman in combat boots and trousers, and a khaki t-shirt. She is handed a rifle and checks that it is ready for use as the Doctor explains to Martha that the girl came from him - a daughter of sorts.

“Did you say daughter?” Donna demands.

“Mmm,” the Doctor says, a crease between his eyebrows. “Technically.”

“Technically how?” Martha asks.

“Progenation. Reproduction from a single organism. Means one parent is biological mother and father. You take a sample of diploid cells, split them into haploids, then recombine them in a different arrangement and grow. Very quickly, apparently.”

At that, Violet turns off the monitor and leaves the three of them to their haphazard adventure. She makes her way from the console room to the medical bay and, with the help of the TARDIS, puts a cast on her right arm, knowing that she will take a while to heal from this. Her healing is quicker than the average human due to her being half Time Lord, and that means she should be able to take the cast off in only two or three months - the healing bone assisted by the 51st Century medicine she got from Jack.

Hours pass and Violet falls asleep on the chair in the console room, curled up under one of the few jackets she stole from Jack when she returned to her time a few years back. She’s woken what feels like only minutes later when the Doctor, Martha and Donna return to the TARDIS, Jenny nowhere in sight. Violet sits up and rubs her eyes with her right hand, forgetting about the cast until it scratches her face. The Doctor notices the addition and hurries over to his lover, carefully holding her broken arm.

“When did this happen?” he asks, scanning her arm with his Sonic Screwdriver.

“When we landed,” Violet yawns. “It’s alright though, my arm will be fully healed in a few months. Anyway, where’s your daughter?”

“She died.”

“Two hearts is what the scan the TARDIS did said, and she has the chance of coming back to life. She won’t regenerate like us, but she will come back from the dead when she dies.”

The Doctor gives her a strange look. “How do you know that?”

Violet smiles cheekily. “We met almost two centuries ago, in my timestream anyway. She was a bit over a century old then, mentally a century anyway. A hundred years from now she and I will meet in her timestream, and we will fight and run and swap stories.”

“You knew about today.”

“Not exactly.”

: : : :

The TARDIS is parked in a park, and Violet stands in the doorway as Martha, Donna and the Doctor say their goodbyes. Violet has never been one for goodbyes,

“Are you sure about this?” Donna asks.

“Yeah, positive,” Martha assures with a small smile. “I can’t do this anymore. You’ll be the same one day.”

“Not me. Never. How could I ever go back to normal life after seeing all this? I’m going to travel with that man for ever.”

“Good luck.”

“And you.”

The Doctor walks on with Martha.

“We’re making a habit of this,” the Doctor teases.

“Yeah,” Martha agrees. “And you’d think it’d get easier. All those things you’ve been ready to die for. I thought for a moment there you’d finally found something worth living for.”

“Oh there’s always something worth living for, Martha.”

They hug.

“Bye, Doctor.”

“Goodbye. Doctor Jones.”

Donna and the Doctor walk back to the Tardis. Martha looks at her engagement ring then goes into her home.

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