After rewatching Journey's End, I felt that Harriet needed a proper exit. This came about because of that. This utilizes the characters and afterlife I created for L'Ailes de la Mort, my webcomic that I've started with my beta, JK. However, I feel that this can be understood despite the fact that the webcomic is woefully neglected. This is not part of Mort's continuity, I just used the characters.
Harriet Jones, the Daleks, the Doctor, the Tardis, and any other Doctor Who materials do not belong to me.
Sean and Morgan are my own creations. Please do not use them without my permission until the webcomic gets up and running.
Harriet Jones knew the moment she was going to die.
Through her long life she'd always wondered about this, the most final of things. Would she die in a meaningless accident, she asked herself during her stints reporting for various organizations. Accidents always happened, she was well aware, but it would have been just her luck to have been on the receiving end of one of those accidents.
Actually, she mused to herself as she typed quickly, she nearly had been. It had taken the intervention of a wonderful man for her to realize that maybe, instead of standing back and waiting for life to bite her, she should step forward and take control. And she had, winning the election for Prime Minister of England, setting up policies to better her world. But suddenly, when she took the action she believed necessary to protect her people, there was the wonderful man again, this time working against her. Without her quite able to figure it out she had been cast out of power, but she still knew she had some good to do.
So here she was, knowing she was going to die, but doing all she could in the short time she had left. Transferring the subwave network to Torchwood was at the same time the hardest and easiest thing she'd ever done. Doing so meant that the human race had one last shot at usurping this terrible foe, while at the same time this meant that her life was over, and there was nothing more she could do.
She smiled at the people on her screen and bid them farewell, then stood up to face her executioners. The Daleks were nonplussed by her final, defiant speech, and she felt a moment of excruciating pain before there was blissful numbness and she was falling to the floor.
Someone caught her halfway down, even as a heavy thud registered in her mind, and she blinked up at the one who'd caught her. Surely their efforts were in vain. The Daleks would certainly slaughter them as well. A kind face framed by black hair smiled down at her, red-brown eyes boring into her like only one other pair had.
"Wha... who..." she managed to ask breathlessly, even as a strong arm helped her stand up. It took her a moment to realize that this person was barely an older teen, only a few inches taller than she was, dressed in, of all things, a pair of jeans with a white dress shirt untucked over it. She took a few deep breaths and tried again. "Who are you?"
"I'm Sean," the boy said, voice touched by pride and reverence. "You're a brave woman, Harriet Jones."
It took her a moment to process that she hadn't told him her name, but surely he'd heard her proudly state her name to the Daleks. Speaking of which... She looked around and saw that, despite the fact that she was seemingly still alive and another person was with her, the Daleks had left them alone.
It was then that, with a cold feeling in her chest, she saw the body sprawled on the floor. She swallowed hard.
"That's me," she whispered, kneeling down to brush her own still-warm cheek. "My god... that's..."
A hand descended to her shoulder, urging her to stand. "Your sacrifice wasn't in vain, Harriet. The man you were calling heard you, and he's coming, Morgan's told me that. I'm here because you deserve a chance to say goodbye."
She looked up at him, the kind face touched by sorrow at her demise, the normal clothing the boy wore... and the scythe in his hand, the hand she hadn't seen until now. "What are you?"
Sean smiled wanly. "Do you even need to ask?"
As she thought about it, no, she really didn't. "What did you mean, say goodbye?" she asked instead.
"It's as I said. Once all this has passed, and the Universe awakens again, Morgan will take you to the Doctor." Sean offered her his hand, the hand not holding the weapon. "Until then, how would you like a tour?"
Harriet blinked at it, not quite able to reconcile her superstitions with the fact currently standing at her side. "If you'd like."
The Doctor stared into space at his console, mind still stuck back with the woman he'd left behind. Her tears still burned on his chest, though they'd long since dried up, and he felt sorrow at having to have done what he did. Having not would have been worse, he knew in his mind, but Donna's look of utter hopelessness would haunt him the rest of his long life.
"So we meet again, Doctor."
The voice startled him into alertness, his fist rapping harshly against the hard console, but the pain was less prominent than the surprise coursing through him at who the voice belonged to. "But," he spluttered, speechless for once.
Harriet Jones smiled at him, a man in a long white coat a step behind her and off to the side. "You've changed, Doctor," she mused, stepping forward, the other man a silent shadow behind her. "Nothing to say?"
"You're dead," he managed to sputter, wide-eyed. "Rose said..."
"Yes," she agreed. "I am dead. Not all it's cracked up to be, you know. You should tell Jack, but I think Death would be miffed. Anyway... This is Morgan, by the way," she added, motioning behind her. "An agent of Death, a demon, I think he said. He's here to let me say goodbye."
The Doctor looked behind her, seeing the other man. "Morgan has cat ears."
Harriet glared at him. "I don't have much time, Doctor."
The Time Lord shut his mouth with an audible clack.
The former prime minister grinned. "Thank you. Anyway... you saved the world again, didn't you?"
The Doctor nodded. "I lost a lot, though," he said wistfully.
"You haven't," she encouraged him with a smile, but felt a light tug on her sleeve, the only warning Morgan would give. "My time is up, Doctor." She stepped closer to him, opening her arms in an invitation. He took her in his arms, noting that she didn't feel as alive as before, but chalking it up to the fact that she was a dead person. "It was good knowing you. I don't regret what I did Christmas day, but I know you had the best interests of Earth at heart. Thank you for being who you are, and don't regret my death."
"I'm all alone," he whispered in her ear. "I've saved the universe but lost everything..."
She tightened her hug. "You haven't lost anything," she reprimanded him. "You've gained a whole wealth of opportunities." She let him go, grinning at him. "Good luck on your adventures, Doctor. Save the world one more time."
He smiled at her. "Goodbye, Harriet Jones. You won't be forgotten."
She gave him one final nod, her smile fading slightly as she turned to Morgan. "I'm ready to go."
And with that, they were gone, the Doctor alone in his Tardis once more.