Hands to Hold, Hell to Pay

After ten years of defending Earth with Torchwood Three, Lilithanadir is going home. But is she ready to face another person from her past? Or worse, someone from her father's? A rewrite of series 3 of Doctor Who.


3. Prelude to the Dullest Few Months

Lilith banged her head against the table. She grumbled angrily about ‘stupid angels’, ‘primitive human technology’, and ‘the nineteen freaking sixties’, punctuating the complaints with her typical Gallifreyan swear words.

She had taken apart her vortex manipulator and the pieces of her iPhone was scattered around the tabletop. “Damn angels with their stupid ability to send people back in time and break their stuff!” she hissed, mostly to herself.

The vortex manipulator had gotten messed up because of the impromptu time travel and Lilith was forced to fix it by hand with pieces of her cell phone, the blue iPhone 5C that her Uncle Jack had gotten her as a birthday present.

“So,” Martha said, sitting down on the other side of the table, “what’s it like?”

Three months had passed since Lilith showed up in 1913 to find her father hiding in a boy’s prep school as a human teacher. Since then, the Doctor seemed to have gotten used to Lilith’s new face and Martha seemed to have gotten used to the fact that Lilith was his daughter.

“What’s what like?” Lilith asked, distractedly.

“The future,” Martha clarified. “You’re from the Doctor’s future, right?”

Lilith sighed and put down the pieces she was working with. She looked around to make sure that the Doctor was still out getting food (“Chips! That’s what we need. Proper chips!” He had cried) before answering, “It’s not all that different from the present.”

“Well, there’s got to be some differences,” Martha reasoned.

Lilith shrugged. “Sure. He’s got a different face, don’t ask, and Mom, Kel, and the twins are there too.”

“You have siblings?”

“Darkel, Nyx, and James. The twins are only a year old so we have to cut down on the dangerous adventures. But sometimes, when Dad gets stir crazy, we drop them off with you and Uncle—” Lilith coughed. “Ah, you and your husband, and go to less kid-friendly planets. Plenty of running to do there.”

Martha frowned. “I’m not traveling with you anymore?”

“Everyone leaves us in the end; no one can stay forever. We can only hope they stay for a while. Besides, in my time, it’s been about a century and a half since you traveled with Dad.”

“But you just said that you drop your siblings off with me. I’m not going to live that long!”

Lilith rolled her eyes. “Time machine, Martha.”

Just then, the Doctor burst into the apartment. “I got the chips!” he announced.

“And I,” Lilith said, screwing the last bit of her vortex manipulator in, “have a working vortex manipulator.”

“Brilliant!” Martha said, taking a bag of fries from the Doctor. “Now you can go back to 2007 and get the TARDIS to pick us up.”

The Doctor put the rest of the fries down on the counter. “Except, that’s not what we’re doing.”

Lilith frowned. “Then what are we doing? Waiting forty years?”

"Thirty eight." He pulled a folder out of his jacket. “We’re going to follow the script.”

“Isn’t that the folder that the girl gave to you when we were hunting those Transdonite-lizard-thing?” Martha asked.

“Sally Sparrow,” the Doctor confirmed.

Lilith popped a fry in her mouth. “Who the hell is Sally Sparrow?”

“The girl you’re going to be stalking.”

The young Time Lady wrinkled her nose. “Oh, fantastic.”

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