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Ulysses by Rheanna (Gen)
Pairing: The Doctor, John Smith, Joan Redfern
Length: 3718 words
Author on LJ:
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Author Website: Golden Maze, AO3
Why this must be read:
This is a wonderful AU splitting off from Human Nature/Family of Blood. In those two episodes, the 10th Doctor hid from enemies chasing him by hiding as a teacher in a boarding school in 1913 England. He used a device called a Chameleon Arch to hide the Time Lord part of himself in a watch, so that his body was truly human and he believed himself to be John Smith, a typical English gentleman of the Edwardian Era, and he fell in love with Joan Redfern, the Matron of the school. Martha, however, as a Black woman in 1913, was stuck as a servant at the school where John worked. When the enemies caught up with them, Martha had to keep them at bay while convincing John Smith to give up everything he had and knew--in essence, to sacrifice his life--to become the Doctor again.
But what if he'd refused? What if Martha had saved the day, leaving John Smith and Joan Redfern behind to live happily ever after? This is a short story--just a single scene--and yet it says so much about the Doctor, and Martha, and John Smith, and might-have-been. I highly recommend it.
As the door starts to open, a brief but fierce moment of doubt hits him, and he is no longer certain he can do this. It's the fearfulness of an old man, and he is old man enough both to recognise that and to feel it anyway. He suddenly wishes he had let Joan tell her to leave them alone.
And then it is too late, because she is standing just inside the door, behind Joan. On the surface, she's barely changed since the last time he saw her: her face is as unlined as his is wrinkled, her hair as dark as his is grey. But there's something indefinably different about her all the same. The girl John remembers was a girl, and this person in front of him… is not. She is wearing a long coat; it looks much like the ex-military greatcoats left over from the war which are still commonly seen, except that it's lined with an oddly iridescent material which is not like anything John has ever seen before. The faint scent of unidentifiable spices has followed her into the bedroom, as if she's just come from some unimaginably exotic bazaar. For all John knows, she has. The simple fact of her presence makes the room around her -- and the house, and himself, and even dear Joan -- appear grey and drab in comparison.
He's surprised by how much he resents that.
The Doctor smiles expansively. "John! Good to see you again. Been meaning to catch up for years."
"It's good to see you, too," John replies, although he's in no way sure it is. "You look…" He starts the sentence but quickly realises he has no idea how to end it. You look exactly the same. You look completely different. You look like something immensely old and immensely powerful, wearing the body of a young woman. In the end, he takes refuge in banality: "You look well."
The Doctor, in the meantime, has wandered over to the dresser by the window and is investigating the collection of keepsakes and framed photographs set out on it. "Is this the family?" She reaches for a picture of George, posing smartly in his RAF uniform in 1940, clearly intending to pick it up and examine it more closely.
"Don't," Joan says, her voice sharp. "Don't touch those."
The Doctor pulls her hand back. "Sorry. Just like me, always poking into things."
Ulysses