Wounds-Part 1

Martha had called them, Martha Jones. Something was happening in London and she needed the Doctor. Kara had been puzzled when a cell phone had started ringing and even more so when the Doctor picked it up and said in a surprised voice,


Kara assumed (correctly) that this was Martha Jones, his old companion, so soon as he hang up, she bombarded him with questions.

"Was that Martha Jones? What was she calling you for? Is everything all right?"

The Doctor kept his mind sealed shut and started up the Tardis as Kara gave him a well-practiced death stare.

"You can't let me go in and help you without knowing what's going on," she said sternly, "Go on, what's happening?"

"There's this creature, a myth sort of, rampaging the streets of lower London. Only a few people have seen it, but Martha treated a man with injuries that were supposedly done by that creature. They were huge and looked like something done by Bigfoot. So we're checking it out."

"It's like something off the telly," Kara said excitedly, "A mysterious creature, only seen by a few."

The Doctor flashed his 100-watt smile at her, "Brilliant, isn't it?"

She matched his grin, "Yeah, fantastic!"

Two hours and sixteen minutes later…

Running down the street, his brown coat flapping behind him, the Doctor glanced over one shoulder. A large, furry, creature about nine or ten feet tall ran after him on its hind legs, its long, pointed snout and small, beetle-black eyes following him as he ran. The creature roared as it ran after him and the Doctor fixed his eyes on the upcoming corner. As he rounded it and dashed into another alley, he yelled,

"Kara, now!"

As the creature came up to the corner, the redhead dumped a bucket of green sludge onto its head. The sludge oozed down the creature and it began to shrink until a medium-sized brown rat sat in its place, sitting in a pool of green sludge.

"So…" Kara began, "Radioactivity…"

"Yeah," the Doctor agreed, "Not so good."

The rat examined the pair cautiously until Kara stomped one foot and said, "Shoo!" Then, it scurried off into the sewers to rejoin its companions.

"So all we need to do now is go speak with the idiot who's been dumping radioactive waste?" Kara asked.

"Yeah. I'm betting it's from the drug-testing facility over six streets or so. Shouldn't be a problem," he replied.

"Good," Kara said. They walked back through the maze of alleys until they could see the main road a few hundred meters away. Giving him a sideways glance and a mischievous grin, Kara called, "Race you there!"

Dashing out, Kara rounded the corner, looking over one shoulder to see if the Doctor was joining her. That was when she ran into the man.

"Sorry," she said apologetically, taking a few steps back. The man she had run into was dressed in long jeans, a pair of boots, a grey sweater, and a black ski mask. In one hand, he held a small bag. That was when Kara noticed the broken store window and the pistol in his other hand. Backing up, Kara slowly put her hands up,

"Whoa, I don't want any trouble," she kept her voice steady and reasonable. His gun was pointed at her chest and she looked him in the eye. He looked back, his pale blue eyes hard and unreadable. Kara stayed calm and carefully looked into his mind. His name was Mark Bartulous, he was twenty-eight and he had a-

Just then, the Doctor rounded the corner. He was strolling along at his swaggering, self-confident pace. If the situation hadn't been so tense, Kara would have been disappointed that he had decided not to race her. The Doctor looked at Kara, then the man, then back again. His hands slowly raised into the air to show he was empty-handed. Kara could taste his fear, and the growing agitation of the robber-Mark.

"Listen to me," the Doctor began calmly, but he was interrupted by a loud bang and Kara felt as though someone had punched her in the ribs. She fell onto the pavement, attempting to draw in air as Mark ran down the street as sirens began to wail in the distance. The shop had a silent alarm.


I should have been there. My companions can't get hurt, they're my responsibility. Kara. Oh Rassilion, not my Kara, not Kara Angel. Not now, not ever.

His thoughts invaded her mind, strong and with the taste of fear, of pure terror and of sadness. He dropped onto his knees next to her, looking at her in panic, helpless. His brown eyes, those ancient, old eyes, looked at her wound, then her face.

"Help!" he shouted, "Someone call an ambulance!" The police cars arrived and an officer called for backup on his radio. A passerby, one with blonde hair and pale blue eyes, pulled off her scarf and put it on the red spot on Kara's chest, the one blooming red roses of blood. With the other hand, she pushed her oversized sunglasses onto her head. The Doctor removed her hand from Kara's chest and put his own on the scarf, trying to hold in the warm, red, life that was coming out.

"Doc- Doc-" she tried to speak, but when she breathed it hurt, and she sputtered.

"I'm here, it's all right." His other hand stroked her hair; it was trembling and his eyes were wet.

"It- it hurts." She had something in her lungs.

"Shhh, I know, I know it hurts. You're going to be fine. Don't you give up on me Kara Angel. Don't you dare give up on me now."

The paramedics got her onto a stretcher and climbed into an ambulance. The Doctor climbed in after them, flashing his psychic paper. There was the buzz of machines and someone put something on her chest and it hurt so much that she screamed, which made it hurt more. They put a mask over her face and she could breathe but it hurt too badly. Slowly, everything went black.

I hope the Doctor will be all right.

Dum-da-da-dum-dum- DUUUUUM!! Cliff-hanger!! Is Kara dead or just unconscious? I know, I hate them too… and yet this gives me a sick sort of pleasure. I'm so mean. I hope to finish this soon, I have it on paper, just not typed. I'd love reviews please!!