Hey everyone! Yet another story to add to the ever growing list. This one, however, is not my own original idea. I read a fic on Teaspoon called 'Call me Home, Stranger Boy'. It can be found here: www $ whofic $ ?sid=42375&chapter=1 - (just add '.' isnaead of ' $ ').

It's a pretty good idea, but it bothers me a little because rather than focusing on the point of trying to get Rose back, it seems that the entire point of the story is to bash on Martha. I'm not the biggest Martha far, but I really don't like character bashing. Also, it throws Rose WAY out of proportion. She's my favourite character, and she IS really great… but she DOES have flaws too.

I'm keeping certain parts of this the same, but I'm cutting some characters and adding in more of my own.

This first part is set on Gallifrey with the fifth Doctor. The council member's are the same ones as in 'The Five Doctors'. And since they think he's important enough to rescue in that, I reckon they think he'd be important enough to rescue here as well.

I don't usually add lyrics or quotes to my stories either, but I'm a huge fan of Evanescence and parts of the song fitted so well. Plus they have he story and the song have the same name.





Time Lord Missing



Lithium, don't want to lock me up inside.
Lithium, don't want to forget how it feels without...
Lithium, I want to stay in love with my sorrow.
Oh, but God, I want to let it go.


The Doctor stepped out of the TARDIS into the Gallifreyan council chambers. It had been a very long time since he had last been here. But the second he had received the urgent call, he had dropped Tegan, Nyssa and Adric of at a resort. He would pop back only a second later. As far as they were concerned, he would only be gone for a minute while he 'parked the TARDIS in a better spot'.

"Doctor," Lord President Borusa greeted him.

"My Lord President. Chancellor Flavia. Castellan," he greeted the three members of the High Council in turn.

"We fear we have a grave matter to discuss," Borusa informed him. "Something that involves you. We have received a telepathic cry for help. It is a very unusual cry, because it is from very far away. It is from a time that our knowledge does not extend to. As we search through the timelines for him, we cannot see anything at all."

"I'm not particularly seeing where I come into all of this," the Doctor said politely as he could.

"We have only very limited knowledge of this call," Flavia said. "We have managed to roughly trace its origin. But one thing was very clear about it. It had a very clear mind signature. It was from you."

"Okay, so sometime in the distant future I'm going to need help. Future. I have a future. That's nice to know."

"Yes, but it appears that you may not have one for much longer," Borusa added. "Whatever has happened to you in the future must be very terrible if we were able to get your call for help all the way back here. We believe that the only person who is able to help you… is you."

"Well, I suppose that is correct, in a very strange and twisted way."

"You are very… out of check with your emotions, Doctor," the Castellan told him carefully. He knew those were not the words that they would use, were he not here. "From what we could hear of him, this regeneration is also run by his emotions, if not more so than you. We believe that you may be able to help him somewhat more than anyone else."

"I see. So my future is at stake… And why is it that you care so much about this?"

"Because, if there is one thing we know… the universe needs you Doctor. It always will," Borusa told him. There was something slightly smarmy about his voice that the Doctor did not like. But he did not argue. He had been ordered by the High Council to go help his future self. Last time he had disobeyed their orders, he ensured the existence of the Daleks.

"And where can I find this future me?"

"As far as we can tell," Flavia said. "He is on a planet called Crellion."


"No, honestly!" the Doctor said. "I'm sure we're nearly there."

"You said that ten minutes ago, Doctor," Martha told him. She would have added a smile to that, but she was tired, and this place did not seem all that friendly. "Are you sure we're in the right place?"

"Yes!" he said fervently. "Well… we're on the right planet… Right town even. We're just… in the slums."

"Yay, we're in the slums again," she said sarcastically. Okay, she just wasn't in a very good mood today.

"Rassilon, I swear Rose and I didn't have this much trouble last time."

"Of course not," she muttered. Way to put her in a worse mood. She didn't mean to, but every mention of Rose made her feel bitter. Why was he so caught up on a woman who left him? Why couldn't he just see that it was her there?

She knew that he wanted her more than anything. Once or twice he had called her Rose. And there were times that he would be talking away very animatedly. It would be the happiest she'd see him. Then he would look up at her, and stop. The look in his eyes made her heart break. It was as if he were shocked to see her there. Disappointed. She knew that it was in those moments that he forgot.

"It was quite brilliant. We were walking through the market and Rose saw this…" He suddenly closed his mouth as he seemed to realise what he was saying. He didn't want to forget her. He didn't want to stop talking about her. And he would not let her become another Sarah Jane. A companion he had loved dearly, bid farewell and never really thought of again. But right now, it was just too painful to remember.

And now that he had started, it was hard to stop.


Martha barely noticed when the Doctor stopped. He had been quiet for a while now. She looked back to see him peering off into one of the alleys. He had a strange look on his face. One of pain and confusion and wonder.

"Wait!" he suddenly called out. He didn't even look at Martha, or call out to her. He just sprinted off into the alley.

"Doctor?" Martha called, slightly confused. Then she followed after him. "Doctor!" But he didn't listen to her. He just kept running as if he were chasing after something he desperately wanted. She hadn't seen what he had been chasing after.

She attempted to follow him through the maze of alleyways. She turned when she saw the end his coat swish around the next alley… only to come to a dead end. No, but he had come here. She was sure of it.

Exhausted from the chase, she leant down on her knees to catch her breath. She gasped, her breath ripping violently through her throat. She looked frantically around the alley, but there was no sight of him. "Doctor?" she tried. But there was no answer. Where the hell had he gone?

There were no exits from the alley, not even a door to one of the side buildings. There were no grates or anything else on the ground. And the walls were much too high to climb or scale, even if he did have something in those 'bigger on the inside' pockets.

He had just disappeared.

She couldn't find him. And there was no way in hell that she was going to get even more lost. So, thoroughly annoyed, she headed back towards the TARDIS. She held her jacket closer around herself as a cold, dirty fog descended upon her. Great, just what she needed. Because it wasn't as if they weren't already lost to begin with.

She jumped when a scream could be heard in the distance. Damn him, brining her to the slums. 'Oh, he had Rose had such a great time here'… To make matters worse, it was quickly getting dark.

She had tripped over onto the muddy at least five times before she made it back to the TARDIS. She was sure that she was covered in bruises. And if the Doctor was still alive, she was going to kill him when she found him… Okay, maybe she wouldn't, but it was a good thought to entertain.

Relief flooded her when the shape of the TARDIS loomed before her. But suddenly she froze when she saw a figure stalking around it. She grabbed the bag from off her arm and pulled out the thing the Doctor had bought earlier that day.

"Stay where you are," she said, holding whatever it was up like a gun. "I'm warning you, I'm armed."

"Is that correct?" said an amused voice. "Because it appears that you're holding a multi-particle stabilizer. Most commonly used for building dimension filters."

"Oh…" Martha said, trying to hide the shaking of her voice. "Well, it was worth a try."

The man in front of her chuckled. He didn't look all too threatening. He had nice blonde hair and blue eyes that twinkled with mirth. And his smile was quite charming. He appeared to be wearing what looked like an olden day cricket outfit and a cream coat, trimmed with red. Pinned to his lapel was a… stick of celery…

"Do you know the owner of this ship?" he asked her.

"…Yes," she replied hesitantly.

"I'm afraid I'm looking for him. He seems to be in danger, do you know where I would find him?"

"No," she told him. "He just ran off about an hour ago. I lost him. Who the hell are you anyway?"

"Has he told you about regeneration?" the man answered a question with a question.

"He - he mentioned it once. Just the word and something about dying… I was to preoccupied trying to save his life."

"Ah, well, you must have done it," the man grinned. "Because otherwise you would know what I was talking about. When a Time Lord is dying. He can regenerate. He changes every cell in his body so that he can stay alive. But it changes his appearance and his personality. To put it simply, my dear, I am the Doctor."

"You're kidding," Martha said disbelievingly.

"Not at all. From the few things that I have been able to figure out since I got here, this is a few hundred years in my future. I am currently in my fifth incarnation. The Doctor you know appears to be in his tenth." Martha balked hearing that the Doctor was hundreds of years old, but quickly tried to compose herself. He could be lying.

"How do I know you're really the Doctor?" she said cautiously.

"My TARDIS is only a short way over there," he pointed to another box like silhouette through the fog. "I can show you if you like."

"No… No, it's okay. I just want to find my friend."

"Well, that's why I'm here," he said happily. "Is there any chance you would help me?"


"What's your name?" he asked.

"Martha. Martha Jones."

"Nice to meet you, Martha Jones."


Martha, with much difficulty, managed to make it back to the point that the Doctor had run off. The younger Doctor had asked her to take him to there. She wouldn't have been able to find it if it weren't for the smell. Everywhere else in this place smelled terrible. But when she reached this place, she noticed something that she had before, only last time she had not paid attention.

Cinnamon. The air around here smelled like cinnamon. And she was certain that it had gotten stronger the closer she had gotten to the alley.

"It was here," she said adamantly. He ran off that way." She pointed down the side street. "That smell - that cinnamon - that was really strong where he disappeared."

"Oh, this isn't good," the Doctor beside her said.

"Why not?" Martha asked him.

"Because I know that smell. It's not cinnamon," he informed her. "Very close, but it's not cinnamon. Also, I can feel something that you cannot… It's a psychic pull."

"Psychic pull?" she said in confusion as they headed off in the direction her Doctor had run.

"Time Lords are telepathic," he said. "A psychic pull is an energy that reaches out to telepathic creatures. Entices them in. This one seems to be attuned to negative energy… Oh dear, don't tell me I'm a horrible depressive in this incarnation."

"No! No," Martha shook her head, almost laughing at the absurdity of it. "He's not depressive. I mean, he has his moments, considering… But he's near manic!"

"Mmm," the fifth Doctor hummed unhappily. "If we're going where I think we're going, that may not be a good thing."

They continued on in silence for a while. Weaving their way through the side streets as the smell of cinnamon and the feeling of the psychic pull grew stronger. And finally they turned into the dead end.

"It was here," Martha said. "I was sure of it. I saw his coat as he ran around the corner, then just… nothing. He was gone. But there's nowhere for him to go!"

"I wouldn't be so sure of that," the Doctor said, inhaling deeply. He kept sniffing, till eventually he came to one of the many arch shaped patterns on the walls. "Ah, very clever," he smiled. "It's a secret door. They've disgusted it with a chameleon circuit!"

"A what?" Martha asked in confusion. There was nothing there, no cracks, no crevices, not secret leaver. How the hell could it be a secret door?

"It a device that makes things blend in with its surroundings. The TARDIS has one, but it broke during a stay to Earth in the 1950's. I've been meaning to fix it… evidently I still am. But see this one? It's disused to match the pattern of the brick. If I can just find the handle…"

He felt around on the wall for a moment, fingering between the bricks. Then his fingers curled around a hidden hollow in one of the brick and he pulled. The brick wall swung out as if it were nothing but wood… Looking at the other side of the door, she found that it was just wood.

As the door opened she was hit by an overwhelming wave of the cinnamon scent and she felt slightly dizzy.

"Try not to let the drugs affect you," the Doctor warned as he stepped inside.

"Hang on, drugs?" Martha panicked as she chased in after him. They were making their way down a dark flight of stairs, a red velvet curtain at the end. The Doctor paused on the step and looked back up at her.

"The cinnamon smell, I told you it wasn't cinnamon," he said gravely. "It's a chemical compound. Years ago a race of telepathic parasites found a way to manipulate it. It's based off lithium, but it's very potent and the drug itself won't warm the user. It the parasite that does that. It drains the user's energy as it gives it off. The psychic pull attracts the victim, the drug makes them see and believe what they want."

"…This is an opium den?" she realised. The Doctor nodded, a look of worry on his face. "But lithium is not an opium!"

"Maybe not in your time. But in the future when it is developed further…"

"And lithium is generally used for mania or depression… which the Doctor possibly has both," she sighed.

"When counteracted, depression can give off an alarming mount of emotions. It's the perfect feast for the parasites… I warn you, this may be disturbing. And remember, try not to let the drugs affect you. If you feel drawn to anything, stay away from it."

Martha nodded and they headed down the stairs. The Doctor pushed the curtain aside. The smell of cinnamon was very strong now, and mixed with another smell. The smell of sex and sweat.

It looked like she had stepped into a freaking brothel!