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“Right!” The Doctor clapped his hands and wiggled his fingers over the console. “Where to?”
“I think Rogue should choose,” Ruby suggested, giving him a playful nudge.
The newly rescued bounty hunter considered this for a moment. “You mean I can choose anywhere?”
“Anywhere.”
“Even your bedroom?” Rogue asked with a grin.
The Doctor laughed. “Nice try.” They’d agreed that they wanted to take things slowly. Their first date had been such a whirlwind and they wanted to make sure this would last. But just because they had agreed not to have sex didn’t stop Rogue from torturing him with the prospect. Just a little bit.
“How about…” Rogue shrugged. “Somewhere fun.”
“Somewhere fun it is! I know just the place.”
“Oh yeah,” Rogue said sarcastically. “This looks very fun.” The trio were looking up at the scanner, which showed nothing but a series of boxes.
The Doctor frowned and started fiddling with buttons and dials, but nothing seemed to change. “That’s odd,” he murmured. “We’re supposed to be on Soroflax Minor.” He shrugged. “Oh, well, fancy an explore?”
“Might as well, since we’re here.” Rogue shrugged, picking up the Doctor’s leather coat from the railing and throwing it to him.
“Besides,” Ruby added, “it’s us we’re talking about. We can find trouble anywhere.”
Rogue laughed. “Yeah, that sounds about right.”
As the TARDIS door opened, Rogue was bombarded with the sickly sweet smell of toffee. Oh no. As he stepped out of the TARDIS, the door swinging shut behind him, he noticed the logo scrawled on the side of the boxes. Gurgle. All of them. Gurgle.
Rogue reached behind him to check the TARDIS door but it seemed to have locked behind him.
That’s fine, he thought to himself. So long as it wasn’t Glarcom, what were the chances that anyone would recognise him?
The Doctor must have noticed Rogue’s hesitation and approached him.
“You alright, babes?”
“Yeah.”
“Is this about…” The Doctor trailed off, but Rogue knew what he was trying to ask. He’d seen the way the Doctor’s eyes lingered on the dusty can of Gurgle aboard the Yossarian, still sat where Art had left it. The Doctor took his hand. “We don’t have to stay.”
“I’m fine, really. Let’s catch up to Ruby before we lose her completely, yeah?”
Unfortunately, Rogue’s words came a fraction too late as Ruby had already wandered off.
Rogue wandered through the maze of boxes and equipment until he found himself on a platform, overlooking the vats of Gurgle below. Rogue leaned over the barrier to gaze into the bubbling vat beneath.
“You have a lot of nerve turning up here.”
Rogue turned, and his eyes tracked down to the small green figure stood next to him.
“Mr Droogle.” Rogue greeted him coldly.
“And I see you’re not alone,” Droogle commented, gesturing to where he could see the Doctor and Ruby talking at the end of an aisle.
“You keep them out of this. Your grudge is with me.”
“Aww, that’s sweet. Finally moved on from whats-his-name, have you?” Rogue gritted his teeth, trying to avoid giving Droogle the satisfaction of a response. Droogle looked through the railings of the barrier down at the Doctor, still unaware that his conversation had an audience. “He’s cute, I’ll give you that. It would be such a shame if something were to happen to him.” Rogue followed his gaze, catching the vat on the edge of his peripheral vision.
The scream echoed through the cavernous factory floor. A poor girl had gone to stir the latest batch when she found something more than gurgle in the bubbling vat.
A small green corpse was floating face down in the amber liquid.
The screaming drew a crowd and before long, the platform was full of blue overalled factory workers and a trio of time travellers, drawn in by the young woman’s cries.
“What happened?” The Doctor asked, taking the girl’s hand in both of his.
“He- Oh my god… Mr Droogle… he’s…”
“I know, babes. What’s your name?”
“Ch-Christine.”
“Christine, good. Christine, can you think of anyone that might want to hurt Mr Droogle?”
Christine shook her head. “N-no, we all liked him except…”
“Except what, babes?”
“I… I saw him argue with someone.” Her eyes scanned the crowd. “Him!” she screeched, pointing at Rogue. Everyone turned to look at him. He looked around in panic before letting his eyes settle on the Doctor.
“I… I didn’t…” Rogue tried to protest. “You have to believe me.” His eyes, fixed on the Doctor, were wide and pleading.
“I don’t know.” The Doctor shrugged. “We haven’t really known each other all that long, and you did try to kill me, remember?”
That stung, far worse than anything else. Sure, they hadn’t known each other for very long but Rogue still thought they knew each other well. Apparently, not well enough.
Rogue was searching the Doctor’s face for any sign this might be a ploy, a trick of some kind, but the Time Lord wouldn’t meet his gaze.
Rogue felt tears welling up in his eyes as he dragged his gaze away from the Doctor and back to the increasingly angry mob in front of him.
Having his attention once more, the crowd advanced on Rogue, mob mentality starting to rear its ugly head. Rogue glanced in the direction of The Doctor and Ruby but neither made a move to help him. He took a step back, trying to put some distance between himself and the crowd.
He was quickly running out of options. In fact, he only really had one left.
Run.
Rogue’s chest was heaving and his heart pounding as he ducked into what appeared to be a storage cupboard. He heard a crowd of people running and shouting outside, but nobody seemed to think of checking his hiding place.
He just needed to catch his breath for a moment and maybe figure out what the hell just happened.
The room was plunged into pitch darkness as he shut the door behind him. Rogue felt around blindly for a light switch. He could feel his heart rate rising and his breath coming out in panicked bursts.
Suddenly he wasn’t in the closet anymore. He was back in a cave with only the light of his fire for company. He tried to force himself to take long even breaths but the air kept catching in his throat. He continued to feel around until he finally found the doorknob and pulled the door open, just enough to let in a crack of light. It wasn’t much, but it was enough.
He could hear people talking outside the now open door. “Get this place locked down.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Dismissed.”
The security guard faltered.
“What is it, Scazorp?”
“Well, Colonel Luxhut, sir… I was just wondering if we should make an announcement.”
“And panic the workers? Not until we’ve caught the bastard, understand?”
Good, Rogue thought to himself. That meant only security would be looking for him. He just needed to stay under the radar long enough to prove to the Doctor, to prove to everyone that he didn’t kill Hexham Droogle, and luckily, he knew just where to start.
With all the security guards searching the factory, it was easy to sneak into their locker room. There was a pile of pressed and folded black jackets and security baseball caps in one corner of the room. Spares or fresh from the laundry, it didn’t matter where they came from as he found clothes in his size.
Rogue pulled the cap on, covering his dark curls. He shrugged on the matching jacket and checked himself out in the mirror. Unassuming. Wouldn’t stand out. Perfect.
Rogue made sure to snag a radio from the box on the desk on his way out the door. All the better to keep track of the search.
“Colonel asked me to check the freezer’s internal security,” Rogue explained with a charming smile.
The guard frowned. “I’m not supposed to let anyone in.”
“I know, but we need to make sure he’s not hiding behind the produce or something.”
“Even so, I should check with Colonel Luxhut.” The guard unclipped a radio from his belt and brought it up to his mouth.
Rogue sighed. He’d hoped to avoid this, but The Doctor had been teaching him some Venusian Aikido for… okay, not exactly this circumstance, but either way. As the radio crackled to life, the guard fell to the floor completely out cold. Rogue adjusted his hat and slipped into the freezer, where Droogle’s body was being stored.
As Rogue stepped inside the freezer, he could see his breath turning to mist in front of him. He pulled his stolen jacket tighter around himself against the biting cold. He pushed the freezer door too, enough that nobody would notice it was open without risking getting himself locked in. This also allowed him a sliver of light to creep in through the gap, preventing him from being in complete darkness as he felt around for a light switch.
He’d never admit how much that moment scared him, how the combination of the cold and the dark made it so easy for his mind to slip back. To convince himself that his rescue had been a dream or a hallucination. But all of that fell away when his wandering hand finally found the switch, bathing the room in brilliant white light.
There were empty shelves as far as the eye could see. That made sense, he supposed. It probably wasn’t considered hygienic to keep ingredients with a dead body.
The body in question was lying on a shelf which he carefully approached. He knew it was stupid, but he half expected Droogle to open his eyes as he got closer. He rubbed the scar on the back of his hand, evidence of their previous encounter.
Rogue took a deep breath and started undoing Droogle’s shirt, which was easier said than done with numb shaking fingers.
He didn’t know what he expected to find. He hadn’t really expected to find anything to tell the truth. He assumed the cause of death was drowning.
That made the scorch marks he found on the dead man’s chest a very big surprise.
The marks were small, suggesting that whatever had made them was also quite small. About the size of the sonic screwdriver if he had to guess. They also didn’t match the burn pattern of any of the weapons he owned (which wasn’t a surprise to him, because he knew he didn’t do it, but it was nice to have proof.)
Rogue was searching for the Doctor to tell him about the results of his investigation. He wandered into the breakroom and found it empty, or at least almost empty.
Lying on the floor, hidden behind the counter, was a girl, her blonde hair splayed out beneath her. Rogue dropped to his knees beside her. She had a large gash in her side and he shrugged off his jacket, pressing it to her wound.
It took Rogue a moment to realise he recognised her. Christine. The girl who made the accusations against him.
Rogue put his fingers to her neck to check her pulse. He couldn’t feel a single flutter of a heartbeat and her skin was ice cold. There was no doubt about it. The girl was dead.
He sat back on his heels and looked down at her. Poor thing. Sure, he wasn’t impressed with the murder accusation, but she didn’t deserve this.
He looked down at his hands, now stained red from her blood. As he thought about what to do next, he heard a piercing scream. There, stood in the doorway, was a woman with a cleaning trolley. She looked at him as though he were some kind of ghost.
This isn’t good, Rogue thought to himself as he sprang to his feet and darted out the other door.
“Please be warned.” The voice of Colonel Luxhut boomed through the tannoy speakers. “There is a killer on the loose within the factory. He has black curly hair, blue eyes and stands at 1.8m. Answers to the name Rogue. If you see him, consider him armed and dangerous.”
Rogue frowned. They’d decided he was enough of a threat to make a warning. That made sense, they thought he’d killed two people after all. But how did they know his name?
He hadn’t introduced himself to anyone, the only people that knew his name were Droogle himself and… He felt his stomach drop. No. It couldn’t be, they wouldn’t. Would they?
Rogue had to admit that he was starting to wonder. They hadn’t stood up for him, hadn’t believed him when he proclaimed his innocence. Why wouldn’t they help the authorities?
No, he couldn’t think like that. He had to be sure.
It was surprisingly easy to get a copy of his file. All it took was a change of clothes and a stolen security pass and he was handed a copy by the receptionist.
Inside the file was his entire life history. Legal name. Planet of birth. All of it. Known accomplices…
Rogue ran a finger over the first name listed. Art had always hated his legal name. That was why he changed it. But here it was, all the same, and in brackets next to it was a single word. Deceased. He wiped away a tear with his sleeve.
Everything. They knew everything. And there was only one person that could have provided that information. At least, one living person.
Rogue felt a stab of pain in his heart. No. It wasn’t fair.
Rogue slipped the file inside his jacket and started towards the warehouse. He needed to get to the bottom of this.
“Did you hear about the cleaner?” Rogue paused at the sound of Ruby’s voice on the walkway above. He ducked behind some boxes in order to listen in.
“The one that found Christine’s body?” the Doctor asked, his tone distracted. By what? Rogue couldn’t help but wonder.
“Yeah. She’s just been found dead.”
The Doctor sighed. “Of course she has.” Rogue heard movement overhead. He could imagine the Doctor turning to face his companion. “Any sign of him?”
“Not since the break room.”
That was good. Rogue thought. Nobody knew he’d taken the file. That he knew everything they did. Everything the Doctor must have told them.
Rogue’s heart started to hurt again at the thought. The Doctor had been right about one thing, they really did barely know each other and Rogue couldn’t quite believe he’d gotten things so wrong. He shook the thought out of his head. There was no time to dwell on it, he needed to move.
A rustle behind him was the first sign that he wasn’t alone but by then it was too late. He felt a sharp scratch in his neck and before he could even turn, everything went black.
Rogue woke with the worst headache. His mouth felt like it was full of cotton wool and his cheek was pressed against something cold and smooth.
His shoulder was shaking and it took a moment for him to realise that he wasn’t the one moving it.
“Rogue?” Ruby’s voice filtered through, causing him to open his eyes. “Thank god you’re alive.”
“Where are we?” he asked, sitting up groggily. He also wondered why she was even talking to him, but that could wait.
“In a cage.”
Rogue screwed his eyes shut for a moment, waiting for the overwhelming nausea to pass.
“Good to see you’re finally awake,” a new voice commented. Rogue forced himself to open his eyes and take in the blurry shape of a man. “I was beginning to think I’d have to do this while you were unconscious.”
“Do what?” Rogue rubbed his eyes, allowing him to see a little more clearly. The man had dark hair and wore a purple coat and waistcoat. Brown eyes glared at him from under a mop of dark hair.
“Kill you, of course.”
It was then that Rogue noticed the man’s trousers and the darkened bloodstains thereon. It suddenly all started clicking into place. “You framed me. But why?” The man just shrugged.
Whatever Rogue was going to say next was interrupted by the sound of footsteps.
“Well, well, if it isn’t the Master. Shouldn’t you be in a tooth somewhere?” The Doctor greeted him easily, as though he was an old friend, not the man who currently had his companions in a cage.
“Doctor.” The Master spun to look at him, turning his back on his two captives.
Seeing an opportunity while the Master was distracted, Rogue rolled down his sock and pulled out a lock pick, quickly getting to work on the cage door.
“What is it with you and never locking your TARDIS?” the Doctor asked, throwing the dematerialisation circuit into the air and catching it again. “I’d have thought you’d have learned your lesson by now.”
“And I’d have thought you’d have learned yours about consorting with inferior species.”
“There are no ‘inferior species’.” His voice turned hard as ice.
The Master rolled his eyes. “Sure, keep telling yourself that.”
“Are you going to let them go?” the Doctor asked, nodding towards Rogue and Ruby, who were now standing behind the other Time Lord. Rogue had produced a gun from somewhere which was trained firmly on the Master.
“It doesn’t seem like I have much of a choice, does it?” the Master snapped, snatching the circuit from the Doctor’s hand. “But don’t think this is over.”
“I would expect nothing else.”
When they got back to the TARDIS, Rogue headed straight for his room. The Doctor had made several attempts to apologise on the way but he wasn’t willing to hear it. Not now. Possibly not ever.
He went to his closet and pulled out a rucksack. He was in the process of throwing stuff into it when a figure appeared in the doorway.
“Go away, Ruby,” he snapped without bothering to turn and look at her.
“No, not until you’ve heard what I have to say,” she told him, moving from the doorway to make herself at home sitting on his bed.
“I’m not interested in what you have to say.”
“Even though I’ve got proof that the Doctor believed you all along?”
Rogue sighed, rubbing his face with his hand. He was sure he was going to regret this but… “Fine. You have five minutes.”
The phone’s speaker crackled to life with the sound of fabric brushing against the microphone. Probably recorded from within Ruby’s pocket, Rogue thought, but any further thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Ruby’s voice coming from the phone.
“I can't believe Rogue would do something like that.” Rogue shot her a glare but she gestured for him to keep listening.
“Well, obviously that's because he didn't.” Rogue could practically hear the Doctor rolling his eyes, even over the tinny speaker.
“Then why did you…”
“Why did I pretend to believe it?”
“Yeah.”
“Because someone framed him for a reason and if we're going to find out why, we need that person to think we believe it. That way we can investigate and find the real culprit.”
“You should have told him.”
“Maybe, but you saw what happened in the ballroom at Pemberton. I love that man but his ability to act under pressure is… the only way to make it believable was for him to believe it too. Besides, he's a very capable bounty hunter and stands a much better chance if he doesn't have to worry about us.”
“You realise, don't you, he might not be able to forgive you for this.”
The Doctor sighed. “I know. But I'd rather he was out there somewhere hating me than let him be punished for a crime he didn't commit.”
“You really do love him, don’t you?”
“I do.”
“You should tell him, when all this is over.”
“When all this is over, I'm not sure he's going to want to hear it.”
“Maybe not. But you should still tell him.”
As the recording finished playing, Ruby looked over at Rogue. He had a pensive look on his face. She opened her mouth, about to ask what he was thinking when Rogue got to his feet and left, not saying another word.
Ruby was ready to protest. They should really talk about this after all. But then she saw where he was heading and held her tongue. He did need to talk about it, she realised. But not with her.
“Rogue, I-“ The Doctor took a step away from the console, towards where Rogue was standing in the doorway.
Rogue shook his head. “You don’t need to say it.” He took a step closer. “I… Ruby, she… I get it now.”
“You do?”
Rogue nodded. “Yeah, I do.” Rogue sighed, walking into the room. “Though…”
“Though what?”
“Though I couldn’t have blamed you if you had believed it. Not really.”
“Why’s that?” the Doctor asked, suspecting he already knew the answer.
“He killed Art. I… I wanted to…” Rogue flopped down onto a chair that the Doctor could have sworn wasn’t there a minute ago.
“You wanted to kill him.”
Rogue looked up at him and nodded. “I’m sorry.”
The Doctor frowned. “Why are you sorry?”
“I know you don’t want me to do that anymore but I just… I was so angry.”
The Doctor knelt down in front of him and reached out to gently stroke his cheek. “I know, baby. Most people would be. Most people would consider it. But you didn’t do it. You walked away and I’m so proud of you and so sorry for making you feel otherwise.”
“You were right about one thing, though.”
“What’s that?”
“I am a terrible actor. First sign of trouble my cover would always go to pieces.”
“How did you… Ruby.”
Rogue nodded. “She recorded your conversation. You were saying that you believed me, that I was a terrible actor - thanks for that, by the way.” The Doctor laughed and Rogue continued. “Then you called me capable…”
“Because you are. I could only do what I did because I trusted you to be able to look after yourself.” Rogue yawned and the Doctor smiled. “Maybe it’s time you go to bed. We can talk more when you wake up, alright?”
“Alright.” Rogue got up and gave the Doctor a kiss on the cheek before heading to the door. He paused in the doorway as a thought occurred to him. “Did you…” Rogue stopped, trying to figure out how he wanted to frame his question. “That man… the Master… did he ever explain? What did he want? Why did he come after me?”
The Doctor sighed. “I don’t know. I can only assume he found out about our relationship somehow and wanted to put a stop to it. He’s certainly lonely and bitter enough.”
“I see…”
“Anyway, stop worrying and go to bed.”
“Whatever you say, Doc.”
“And stop calling me Doc!” Rogue’s laughter echoed down the hallway as he made his way to his room, ready to have some much-needed rest.
As the Doctor heard Rogue’s footsteps retreat, he pulled up the file he’d been exploring once more on the TARDIS view screen. He hadn’t had time to look at it while he ransacked the Master’s TARDIS but he suspected it held the key to what this was really about. As usual, his instincts had been right.
As he sifted through the file he found what amounted to an entire family album. Children growing up, weddings, even graduations. He recognised himself in several of the images and there, by his side in every one, was Rogue. He paused on one of the images - the ballroom at Pemberton. He and Rogue were dancing in each other’s arms, the Doctor wearing white and Rogue in a dashing blue suit. To one side he could see Ruby and Rose and another girl he didn’t recognise in matching dresses.
Their wedding, he realised. This was their wedding day.
He continued to flick through, this time stopping only when he recognised another familiar face. The photo was of just Rogue, hugging a young woman with dark hair and smiling eyes. A young woman that the Doctor knew well, despite her having not been born yet.
Susan had never really talked about her family, and the Doctor knew better than to ask, but he’d always wondered who he was going to love so much they’d have children, and even grandchildren. He’d thought for a time it might have been Rose or River. But now he knew.
Should he tell Rogue? It didn’t feel right to keep such a big secret from him, but at the same time, it was a lot of pressure to put on a new relationship, especially when they promised to go slow. Not to mention, given the day he’d just had, it would be just another thing for Rogue to process. No. He decided. It could wait. Besides, he thought to himself, apparently he had time.