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Fic: Hollow World, Chapter 7
Title: Hollow World
Author: Veldeia
Fandom: Doctor Who
Spoilers: Takes place before Blink. Nothing worth mentioning, really.
Characters/Pairings: 10th Doctor, Martha Jones, OCs. Gen.
Rating: PG
Genre/Category: Adventure, hurt/comfort, drama.
Warnings: WIP
Disclaimer: Not mine. Not making money. Will return everyone good as new once I'm done.
Summary: The 10th Doctor and Martha, stuck in a cave, utterly unprepared and separated from the TARDIS - what else could go wrong?
7. The River
"Okay. A few general guidelines before we go on," Grant said, standing on a stepping stone in the river. "First of all, don't even imagine you can keep your feet dry. Not going to happen. We'll be wading most of the way. It's no more than knee-deep, except for a couple of deeper pools, which we'll need to traverse. Secondly, watch very carefully where you put your feet. There are countless small potholes and ridges, and..."
The Doctor found it immensely difficult to concentrate on what Grant was saying, especially with the constant roaring of the water drowning half the words. Not that it mattered. This wasn't his first encounter with an underground river. He already knew the basics.
He realised his eyelids were sliding shut again, his head drooping, when Grant raised his voice to a cheerful holler. "Off we go, then! Remember, follow exactly in my footsteps, and watch your feet."
The Doctor stepped from the stony bank into the cold water. It wasn't deep at all, only up to his ankles, but the current was strong, the water foaming white here and there. He stared at his feet, or what he could see of them. How exactly was he supposed to watch them, when the swirling water was enough to make his head swim? It was all so blurred that he couldn't tell apart any details. He looked up instead, at Grant. Copying the geologist's moves seemed like the easier option.
They began wading upstream, keeping the same order as before: Grant first, the Doctor after him, then Martha, Brian and Joseph. Like the Doctor had expected, it turned out to be much more difficult for him than crawling in the small tunnel. He wasn't claustrophobic, and he felt more comfortable lying down, so the tunnel had been all right, as physically draining as it had been. The river, on the other hand, was a real struggle.
He was fighting both the current, with all the hidden hazards under its surface, and the sleepiness that was threatening to overwhelm him. What made it especially difficult to ward off was that it wasn't uncomfortable, not like the nausea or the headache. It would be a blessing to close his eyes and drift off - but he couldn't! Not yet.
He turned his attention to the path ahead of him just in time to stop before he collided with Grant, who had turned to face him. They waited until Martha and the two other cavers had gathered around, too.
"There's a big pothole ahead of us, several yards deep, but luckily, it's not very wide, so we can cross it easily enough. There's plenty of good holds, just keep one hand and one foot on both walls, and take it nice and slow. It's not difficult. I'll go first and show you how to do it."
The Doctor saw Martha tense up next to him. This was, again, something completely new to her. Hopefully, it wouldn't be quite as scary as the tight tunnel. At least there was plenty of space around them. And plenty of water under them. He wasn't entirely sure whether that was good or bad.
They took a few more steps forwards, and then Grant planted a boot on a ledge in each wall, well above the surface of the river, grabbed at suitably shaped holds with his hands, and covered the next ten feet or so moving like that. It really didn't look too difficult. Grant stood at the other side of the pothole, facing the others, and beckoned with his hand.
It was the Doctor's turn next. He needed to put away his torch so he could use both hands, but the others' headlamps gave him enough light. Finding holds wasn't hard, especially since he could do it by feeling around, without needing to look. The walls were wet and slippery, but there was little risk of slipping accidentally, when he had all four limbs on good holds.
He was almost over the deep part, when a particularly bad wave of dizziness washed over him - oh, this really wasn't a good time - he tried to shake it off, but of course, shaking his head only made things worse - he wasn't even entirely sure which way was down, anymore.
Suddenly, the rumble of the river disappeared, like someone had just switched off the sound. The lights, too, because for a blink, he saw nothing but darkness.
The next thing he knew, he was underwater, a strong current pulling him deeper into the seemingly bottomless pit. Underwater - he could handle underwater. Longer than a human, anyway. Long enough. The water was ice-cold, and his clothes were a heavy weight dragging him down. Down, yes, that was down. The pull of gravity. That was where he didn't want to go. The other direction would be good.
Wide awake now, he kicked furiously with his feet and paddled with his hands, trying to create at least a little lift against the current. He didn't seem to be moving much. He reached up with one hand, seeking the surface.
A strong hand grabbed his, and began tugging. He clutched at it with both his hands, and more hands seized his, drawing him up. His head broke the surface, and there were hands all around, helping him to shallower waters. He landed on the riverbed on his hands and knees, coughing and spluttering and shivering. Someone was trying to wrap a blanket around his shoulders, but he pushed them away.
Someone - probably a different someone - helped him stand up, and then he could see Martha right in front of him, the painfully bright headlamp all too close to his eyes, her hands squeezing his arms tightly. "Are you all right?" she asked.
He needed to cough a little more to find his voice again. Finally, he was able to answer her. "Fine, fine! It was refreshing, actually!"
Martha stepped back from him. "If you just wanted to take a bath, you could've warned us first!" she shouted. For a moment, she looked like she was ready to punch him, but the angry look faded quickly, giving way to open worry. "What happened?"
"I'll explain later," he told her. He wasn't going to start discussing his health with her when they were in the middle of the river.
All three cavers were standing close to him and Martha. Apparently, Grant had traversed the pit again to return to the others. They were all soaked, too. Not quite as wet as the Doctor, but very nearly so, their sleeves drenched all the way to their shoulders.
"What now?" Brian asked.
"Maybe we should turn back," Joseph suggested.
"And then what?" Martha said. "Go through the Squeeze again?"
There were no banks in the river where they stood. It flowed in a high, narrow tunnel. Nowhere dry to go anywhere near them. Not that the Doctor needed to. He wasn't cold. Instead, the shock and the drop in temperature had been like a sharp slap in the face which had woken him up - he mind felt clearer than it had in a good while. The silver lining of this particularly wet rain cloud. The humans would start feeling chilled, though, if they weren't already, unless they started moving soon.
"I'm all right!" the Doctor shouted, louder than before, so that everyone would hear him. "We should keep going."
"But there's another big pothole ahead," Grant told him. "And we're not even past the first one yet. You really think you're up to it? Do you realise how incredibly lucky you are that we managed to drag you up from there?"
The Doctor decided that trying to explain to the cavers about his superior physiology wouldn't be worth the trouble. "Yes, to both," he simply answered. "And thank you for rescuing me, but really, that was just - I just slipped. It won't happen again."
"We could rig it," Brian said. "Use a rope as an extra support, or even as a belay."
"True, we could make do with what gear we've got," Grant agreed. "But then again -"
As much as the Doctor valued conversation, right now, it was slowing things down too much. He didn't feel anywhere near to normal, but he wasn't too dizzy, either, and most importantly, he wasn't sleepy anymore. He could take advantage of that. If they moved quickly, they might be able to reach the TARDIS before he started dozing off again.
"Standing here and speculating isn't going to help anyone. Come on, let's go!" he declared.
He turned to face the pothole again, and grabbed at the holds. Before anyone had time to try and stop him, he was halfway over it, and then at the other side, standing in the river again, out of breath, his hearts trying to outrace each other, but otherwise no worse for wear.
Grant followed the Doctor over, and seized his shirtfront, pinning him against the wall. "I don't know who you are or where you come from, Doc, but if we're doing this together, we make our decisions together! This is a dangerous environment, there's no room for showing off!" he rumbled. Someone who wasn't over nine hundred years old might have found the furious tone combined with the booming voice quite scary.
The Doctor looked deep into his eyes, unwavering. "I know, and I'm sorry, I really am. I'm all for democracy and co-operation, in more ways than you'll ever know, but this is a bit of an emergency."
"It had better be!" Grant growled, and let go of the Doctor's shirt.
The Doctor sagged against the wall, still trying to get his wind back.
Grant went on to motion at the others that they should cross as well. Martha did it next. The Doctor could tell she was nervous about it. No doubt seeing him take a swim hadn't made it appear any less scary. She stood on the first footholds, clutching the rock tightly with her good hand, and shook her head.
"I don't know what to do next!" she shouted.
"It's all right, stay there, I'll guide you," Grant said. He crossed the pothole again, to stand on footholds in front of Martha. "Now, see that ridge, there, right in front of your right foot? Step on it. There, just like that, yes, that's fine. Then, your left foot..."
Having a sprained wrist obviously hampered Martha's progress considerably, but moving slowly and cautiously, with Grant telling her where to place her hands and feet, she was able to make it. Brian and Joseph followed her with sure, practised moves.
Brian walked up to the Doctor. "Don't mind Grant," he said close to his ear. "He can be a bit intimidating. Some of his students call him Granite, you know. Because that's what he's like if you get on the wrong side of him."
"Granite - that's funny. And I don't mind. He did have a point, after all."
They continued on their way. The second pothole followed not long after the first one, and to everyone's relief, they were all able to cross it without any major trouble. Then, it was back to just wading again, staring at the whirling current.
The dizziness was returning with a vengeance, growing worse with every step. Soon, the Doctor had no choice but to use the walls for support again. The sleepiness hadn't come back, but he wasn't sure if that one good thing about the incident outweighed all the bad ones. It had sapped most of what little strength he'd had left. His feet felt almost too heavy to lift, his legs shaky, and the weight of his soaked clothes wasn't helping at all. He kept having trouble catching his breath, and his hearts were still acting up. All in all, maybe he would've rather been sleepy. He desperately needed to rest. Soon, he told himself. They couldn't be far from the TARDIS now.
He had no idea how long they had been walking. The distance felt much longer than he would've expected. Eventually, they reached a section where the wall to their left became lower. There were several big ledges in it, almost like large steps, offering them a fairly easy path up from the water.
Grant went first, and offered his hand to the Doctor. A little clambering, then a few strides on level ground, and he'd made it through a crack into a sheltered chamber, where the roar of the river was much lower. Even leaning on a wall, he had to muster every ounce of determination he had left to keep himself upright.
"How much longer until we're there?" he asked Grant.
"About two hundred yards of walking. Like you probably noticed, we needed to go past the point where we're headed to be able to get out of the river. Now, we'll be doubling back through that dry passage," Grant explained, motioning at a tunnel leading to their left, which sloped steeply upwards. His patronising tone made it clear that he was still cross about the Doctor's actions in the river. "After that, it'll be all up to you. I've got to say, I'm very curious to see what that mystery exit of yours is like."
8. Hope Passage
Author: Veldeia
Fandom: Doctor Who
Spoilers: Takes place before Blink. Nothing worth mentioning, really.
Characters/Pairings: 10th Doctor, Martha Jones, OCs. Gen.
Rating: PG
Genre/Category: Adventure, hurt/comfort, drama.
Warnings: WIP
Disclaimer: Not mine. Not making money. Will return everyone good as new once I'm done.
Summary: The 10th Doctor and Martha, stuck in a cave, utterly unprepared and separated from the TARDIS - what else could go wrong?
7. The River
"Okay. A few general guidelines before we go on," Grant said, standing on a stepping stone in the river. "First of all, don't even imagine you can keep your feet dry. Not going to happen. We'll be wading most of the way. It's no more than knee-deep, except for a couple of deeper pools, which we'll need to traverse. Secondly, watch very carefully where you put your feet. There are countless small potholes and ridges, and..."
The Doctor found it immensely difficult to concentrate on what Grant was saying, especially with the constant roaring of the water drowning half the words. Not that it mattered. This wasn't his first encounter with an underground river. He already knew the basics.
He realised his eyelids were sliding shut again, his head drooping, when Grant raised his voice to a cheerful holler. "Off we go, then! Remember, follow exactly in my footsteps, and watch your feet."
The Doctor stepped from the stony bank into the cold water. It wasn't deep at all, only up to his ankles, but the current was strong, the water foaming white here and there. He stared at his feet, or what he could see of them. How exactly was he supposed to watch them, when the swirling water was enough to make his head swim? It was all so blurred that he couldn't tell apart any details. He looked up instead, at Grant. Copying the geologist's moves seemed like the easier option.
They began wading upstream, keeping the same order as before: Grant first, the Doctor after him, then Martha, Brian and Joseph. Like the Doctor had expected, it turned out to be much more difficult for him than crawling in the small tunnel. He wasn't claustrophobic, and he felt more comfortable lying down, so the tunnel had been all right, as physically draining as it had been. The river, on the other hand, was a real struggle.
He was fighting both the current, with all the hidden hazards under its surface, and the sleepiness that was threatening to overwhelm him. What made it especially difficult to ward off was that it wasn't uncomfortable, not like the nausea or the headache. It would be a blessing to close his eyes and drift off - but he couldn't! Not yet.
He turned his attention to the path ahead of him just in time to stop before he collided with Grant, who had turned to face him. They waited until Martha and the two other cavers had gathered around, too.
"There's a big pothole ahead of us, several yards deep, but luckily, it's not very wide, so we can cross it easily enough. There's plenty of good holds, just keep one hand and one foot on both walls, and take it nice and slow. It's not difficult. I'll go first and show you how to do it."
The Doctor saw Martha tense up next to him. This was, again, something completely new to her. Hopefully, it wouldn't be quite as scary as the tight tunnel. At least there was plenty of space around them. And plenty of water under them. He wasn't entirely sure whether that was good or bad.
They took a few more steps forwards, and then Grant planted a boot on a ledge in each wall, well above the surface of the river, grabbed at suitably shaped holds with his hands, and covered the next ten feet or so moving like that. It really didn't look too difficult. Grant stood at the other side of the pothole, facing the others, and beckoned with his hand.
It was the Doctor's turn next. He needed to put away his torch so he could use both hands, but the others' headlamps gave him enough light. Finding holds wasn't hard, especially since he could do it by feeling around, without needing to look. The walls were wet and slippery, but there was little risk of slipping accidentally, when he had all four limbs on good holds.
He was almost over the deep part, when a particularly bad wave of dizziness washed over him - oh, this really wasn't a good time - he tried to shake it off, but of course, shaking his head only made things worse - he wasn't even entirely sure which way was down, anymore.
Suddenly, the rumble of the river disappeared, like someone had just switched off the sound. The lights, too, because for a blink, he saw nothing but darkness.
The next thing he knew, he was underwater, a strong current pulling him deeper into the seemingly bottomless pit. Underwater - he could handle underwater. Longer than a human, anyway. Long enough. The water was ice-cold, and his clothes were a heavy weight dragging him down. Down, yes, that was down. The pull of gravity. That was where he didn't want to go. The other direction would be good.
Wide awake now, he kicked furiously with his feet and paddled with his hands, trying to create at least a little lift against the current. He didn't seem to be moving much. He reached up with one hand, seeking the surface.
A strong hand grabbed his, and began tugging. He clutched at it with both his hands, and more hands seized his, drawing him up. His head broke the surface, and there were hands all around, helping him to shallower waters. He landed on the riverbed on his hands and knees, coughing and spluttering and shivering. Someone was trying to wrap a blanket around his shoulders, but he pushed them away.
Someone - probably a different someone - helped him stand up, and then he could see Martha right in front of him, the painfully bright headlamp all too close to his eyes, her hands squeezing his arms tightly. "Are you all right?" she asked.
He needed to cough a little more to find his voice again. Finally, he was able to answer her. "Fine, fine! It was refreshing, actually!"
Martha stepped back from him. "If you just wanted to take a bath, you could've warned us first!" she shouted. For a moment, she looked like she was ready to punch him, but the angry look faded quickly, giving way to open worry. "What happened?"
"I'll explain later," he told her. He wasn't going to start discussing his health with her when they were in the middle of the river.
All three cavers were standing close to him and Martha. Apparently, Grant had traversed the pit again to return to the others. They were all soaked, too. Not quite as wet as the Doctor, but very nearly so, their sleeves drenched all the way to their shoulders.
"What now?" Brian asked.
"Maybe we should turn back," Joseph suggested.
"And then what?" Martha said. "Go through the Squeeze again?"
There were no banks in the river where they stood. It flowed in a high, narrow tunnel. Nowhere dry to go anywhere near them. Not that the Doctor needed to. He wasn't cold. Instead, the shock and the drop in temperature had been like a sharp slap in the face which had woken him up - he mind felt clearer than it had in a good while. The silver lining of this particularly wet rain cloud. The humans would start feeling chilled, though, if they weren't already, unless they started moving soon.
"I'm all right!" the Doctor shouted, louder than before, so that everyone would hear him. "We should keep going."
"But there's another big pothole ahead," Grant told him. "And we're not even past the first one yet. You really think you're up to it? Do you realise how incredibly lucky you are that we managed to drag you up from there?"
The Doctor decided that trying to explain to the cavers about his superior physiology wouldn't be worth the trouble. "Yes, to both," he simply answered. "And thank you for rescuing me, but really, that was just - I just slipped. It won't happen again."
"We could rig it," Brian said. "Use a rope as an extra support, or even as a belay."
"True, we could make do with what gear we've got," Grant agreed. "But then again -"
As much as the Doctor valued conversation, right now, it was slowing things down too much. He didn't feel anywhere near to normal, but he wasn't too dizzy, either, and most importantly, he wasn't sleepy anymore. He could take advantage of that. If they moved quickly, they might be able to reach the TARDIS before he started dozing off again.
"Standing here and speculating isn't going to help anyone. Come on, let's go!" he declared.
He turned to face the pothole again, and grabbed at the holds. Before anyone had time to try and stop him, he was halfway over it, and then at the other side, standing in the river again, out of breath, his hearts trying to outrace each other, but otherwise no worse for wear.
Grant followed the Doctor over, and seized his shirtfront, pinning him against the wall. "I don't know who you are or where you come from, Doc, but if we're doing this together, we make our decisions together! This is a dangerous environment, there's no room for showing off!" he rumbled. Someone who wasn't over nine hundred years old might have found the furious tone combined with the booming voice quite scary.
The Doctor looked deep into his eyes, unwavering. "I know, and I'm sorry, I really am. I'm all for democracy and co-operation, in more ways than you'll ever know, but this is a bit of an emergency."
"It had better be!" Grant growled, and let go of the Doctor's shirt.
The Doctor sagged against the wall, still trying to get his wind back.
Grant went on to motion at the others that they should cross as well. Martha did it next. The Doctor could tell she was nervous about it. No doubt seeing him take a swim hadn't made it appear any less scary. She stood on the first footholds, clutching the rock tightly with her good hand, and shook her head.
"I don't know what to do next!" she shouted.
"It's all right, stay there, I'll guide you," Grant said. He crossed the pothole again, to stand on footholds in front of Martha. "Now, see that ridge, there, right in front of your right foot? Step on it. There, just like that, yes, that's fine. Then, your left foot..."
Having a sprained wrist obviously hampered Martha's progress considerably, but moving slowly and cautiously, with Grant telling her where to place her hands and feet, she was able to make it. Brian and Joseph followed her with sure, practised moves.
Brian walked up to the Doctor. "Don't mind Grant," he said close to his ear. "He can be a bit intimidating. Some of his students call him Granite, you know. Because that's what he's like if you get on the wrong side of him."
"Granite - that's funny. And I don't mind. He did have a point, after all."
They continued on their way. The second pothole followed not long after the first one, and to everyone's relief, they were all able to cross it without any major trouble. Then, it was back to just wading again, staring at the whirling current.
The dizziness was returning with a vengeance, growing worse with every step. Soon, the Doctor had no choice but to use the walls for support again. The sleepiness hadn't come back, but he wasn't sure if that one good thing about the incident outweighed all the bad ones. It had sapped most of what little strength he'd had left. His feet felt almost too heavy to lift, his legs shaky, and the weight of his soaked clothes wasn't helping at all. He kept having trouble catching his breath, and his hearts were still acting up. All in all, maybe he would've rather been sleepy. He desperately needed to rest. Soon, he told himself. They couldn't be far from the TARDIS now.
He had no idea how long they had been walking. The distance felt much longer than he would've expected. Eventually, they reached a section where the wall to their left became lower. There were several big ledges in it, almost like large steps, offering them a fairly easy path up from the water.
Grant went first, and offered his hand to the Doctor. A little clambering, then a few strides on level ground, and he'd made it through a crack into a sheltered chamber, where the roar of the river was much lower. Even leaning on a wall, he had to muster every ounce of determination he had left to keep himself upright.
"How much longer until we're there?" he asked Grant.
"About two hundred yards of walking. Like you probably noticed, we needed to go past the point where we're headed to be able to get out of the river. Now, we'll be doubling back through that dry passage," Grant explained, motioning at a tunnel leading to their left, which sloped steeply upwards. His patronising tone made it clear that he was still cross about the Doctor's actions in the river. "After that, it'll be all up to you. I've got to say, I'm very curious to see what that mystery exit of yours is like."
8. Hope Passage