Chapter Text
The knock came just as Alistair was reaching for the teapot.
He frowned, set the kettle back onto its stand and crossed the hall. Visitors had become less common since his retirement. Those who did call generally telephoned first.
He opened the door.
The Doctor stood on the step.
For a heartbeat, neither of them spoke.
The Doctor looked older than the last time Alistair had seen him. Younger, too, somehow. The face was the same as the last time, fair-haired, open, almost gentle. But the eyes hadn't changed at all.
They were tired.
"Doctor."
"Brigadier."
Alistair stepped aside without hesitation.
"You'd better come in."
The Doctor managed the smallest of smiles and ducked into the house.
It wasn't until they were seated with tea between them that Alistair realised how unlike the Doctor this visit felt.
No hurried explanations.
No impossible machine in the garden.
No urgent dash for the TARDIS.
Just silence stretching between two cooling cups.
Alistair picked up his tea.
"You haven't come for a social call."
The Doctor wrapped both hands around his own cup without drinking.
"No."
Another silence.
Then, very quietly, "It's Sarah Jane."
Alistair's grip tightened around the china.
"What about her?"
The Doctor stared into his tea as though the answer might be waiting there.
"She agreed to help me."
"I'd gathered as much."
"There was..." He searched for the words, discarded them, tried again. "A complication involving Gallifrey. Time. Something I believed I could put right."
"And?"
"I asked Sarah Jane to trust me."
The words fell heavily into the room.
"She did."
Alistair said nothing.
"I thought I understood what was required." The Doctor's voice had become almost painfully calm. "I didn't."
He looked up then.
"The High Council regarded her as... expendable."
The word seemed to cost him.
"I didn't know until it was too late."
Alistair set his cup down with deliberate care.
"What happened?"
"I stopped one disaster."
A faint, humourless smile touched the Doctor's mouth.
"And created another."
The silence that followed was long enough for the clock on the mantel to become almost intrusive.
"When I reached her..." he continued, "...her memories were already beginning to unravel. Every attempt I made to repair the damage only anchored her more firmly. Every correction made the fracture worse."
"And now?"
The Doctor closed his eyes briefly.
"She's alive."
Alistair wasn't sure whether to feel relieved.
"Where?"
"Scotland."
That surprised him less than it might have.
"When?"
"The early fourteen hundreds."
The Doctor shook his head before Alistair could speak.
"I can't move her."
"Why not?"
"Because she's become part of a fixed point."
There was no hesitation in the answer.
"If I remove her now, I don't save Sarah. I destroy everything that grew because she was there."
Alistair rose from his chair.
He crossed to the window, looking out into the quiet afternoon without really seeing it.
"So you've left her."
The words were flat.
Behind him the Doctor didn't answer.
Alistair turned.
"You've left her there."
"I had no choice."
"You always have a choice."
"I did."
The Doctor met his eyes.
"I chose the one that left her alive."
The anger arrived slowly.
Not hot.
Not loud.
Heavy.
Steady.
It settled somewhere beneath Alistair's ribs.
"You left her stranded."
"I know."
"You let her lose her memories."
"I know."
"You've damaged her life."
The Doctor flinched.
"I know."
Alistair looked away again.
He knew that look.
He had seen it on too many young officers.
The look of someone who had already passed judgement on himself.
It did nothing to lessen the anger.
"When I became a schoolmaster," he said quietly, "I believed that was the end of my life. Not because I'd stopped serving."
His hand rested against the window frame.
"Because someone had taken the choice from me."
The room fell still.
"And now Sarah."
He closed his eyes for a moment.
"You've done the same to her."
"No."
The Doctor's voice was barely above a whisper.
"Gallifrey did."
He stood.
"I failed to stop them."
Alistair turned back.
Only then did he notice the envelope lying beside the Doctor's untouched cup.
The Doctor picked it up.
"I can't bring her home."
He held it out.
"But I can send one person to her."
Alistair didn't take it.
"A one-way journey."
The Doctor's silence answered him.
"No return."
Another silence.
"I can't promise that."
Alistair looked at the envelope for a long time before finally taking it.
It wasn't heavy.
Inside, he suspected, would be little more than a map and a name.
"Does she remember me?"
The Doctor's expression softened into something that looked very much like grief.
"No."
"The accident..."
"It took nearly everything."
His voice faltered.
"She knows how to live. How to read. How to think. The knowledge is still there."
"But her life."
The Doctor nodded once.
"Gone."
Another long silence settled between them.
At last Alistair opened the envelope.
Inside was a single folded sheet.
Written across the top, in the Doctor's unmistakable hand, were only three words.
Sarah MacGowan.
"MacGowan?" he asked.
"Mac Gabhann."
The Doctor managed the ghost of a smile.
"The Gaelic form. Another name for Smith."
"So she kept Sarah."
"I hoped she might."
Alistair folded the paper again with great care.
"Why me?"
The Doctor looked at him as though the answer should have been obvious.
"Because you'll find her."
"And then?"
"You'll make certain she's safe."
The simplicity of it struck harder than any speech could have.
Not rescue her.
Not bring her home.
Simply...
make certain she's safe.
Alistair understood then.
The Doctor wasn't asking him to complete a mission.
He was asking him to stay.
He looked down at the folded paper in his hands.
"I'll go."
Relief flickered across the Doctor's face, only to vanish again.
"But not today."
The Doctor waited.
"I've a life to put in order first."
He glanced around the quiet house.
"There are people who deserve an explanation. Arrangements that need making."
He looked back at the Doctor.
"If I'm going..."
Neither of them spoke the words.
...I'm not coming back.
The Doctor inclined his head.
"I understand."
Alistair slipped the paper back into the envelope.
"When I've finished here..."
He met the Doctor's eyes.
"...take me to Sarah Jane."
Kate looked up as her father appeared in the doorway of her tiny university flat.
"Dad."
She smiled automatically, crossing the room to kiss his cheek.
"I wasn't expecting—"
The smile faded.
"You've got that look."
"What look?"
"The one that says you're about to tell me something I won't like."
He attempted the faintest smile.
"I see university hasn't dulled your observational skills."
"It wasn't university."
She took his coat before he could protest, hanging it by the door.
"It was growing up with you."
The kettle was already on before either of them thought about it. Kate disappeared into the little kitchen, returning a moment later with two mugs balanced in one hand.
He watched her move around the flat.
Books stacked on every available surface.
Lecture notes spread across the dining table.
A photograph of her and a young man tucked into the frame of the mirror.
She was building a life.
He was about to step out of his.
Kate set the mugs down.
"There."
She sat opposite him.
"So."
"So."
She folded her arms.
"You didn't drive all the way here because you fancied the tea."
"No."
"You've been ill?"
"No."
"UNIT?"
"I retired."
"I know that."
She watched him for another moment.
"Someone died."
"No."
"Then tell me."
He rested both hands around the warmth of the mug.
"The Doctor came to see me."
Kate's expression altered at once.
Not confusion.
Recognition.
She had grown up hearing enough stories to know the name.
"The Doctor."
He nodded.
"He needs my help."
"What sort of help?"
He drew a slow breath.
"It's Sarah Jane."
Kate frowned.
"The journalist?"
"Yes."
"I thought she'd left with him years ago."
"So did I."
Silence settled between them.
"When she travelled with the Doctor..." he began carefully, "...something went wrong."
"Wrong how?"
He found himself looking at the steam rising from the tea.
"She's alive."
Kate waited.
"But she's... stranded."
"Where?"
"Scotland."
"That's hardly impossible."
"The fourteen hundreds."
The room became very still.
Kate searched his face.
It wasn't the sort of thing he joked about.
"You mean that."
"I do."
"And the Doctor can't bring her back."
"No."
"Why?"
"Because if he does..." He shook his head. "The consequences are larger than either of us."
She absorbed that without interrupting.
"What does he want from you?"
"He can send me to her."
Kate nodded once.
"To bring her home?"
He didn't answer.
Her eyes narrowed.
"...Dad."
He met her gaze.
"It's a one-way journey."
She stared at him.
"No."
"I'm afraid so."
"No."
The word came again, harder this time.
"You said no."
"I did."
"You told him no."
"I told him I'd need time."
"Dad—"
"I've already decided."
She stood abruptly and turned away, one hand pressed against the edge of the sink.
For a long time neither of them spoke.
When she finally turned back there was anger in her eyes.
Not wild anger.
His sort of anger.
The kind that arrived after thinking.
"So that's why."
"What?"
"The house."
He said nothing.
"The pension."
Silence.
"The paperwork."
She laughed once.
It wasn't amusement.
"You were giving everything away."
"I was putting things in order."
"You were saying goodbye."
"I was making certain you'd be secure."
"I don't want your house."
"I know."
"I don't want your money."
"I know."
"I need my father."
He looked down into his tea.
"So does Sarah Jane."
The words hung between them.
Kate closed her eyes.
When she opened them again, the anger had settled into something steadier.
"You've already decided."
"Yes."
"And nothing I say will change your mind."
"No."
She nodded slowly.
"I thought not."
She crossed the room to the window, standing where she could see students hurrying across the campus below.
"So."
He recognised the tone.
It meant she was thinking.
Practical.
Methodical.
"So," she repeated quietly, "where is he?"
"The Doctor?"
She turned.
"Yes."
"He said he'd come back in three days."
"No."
She shook her head.
"I mean where is he now?"
"I imagine..."
He paused.
"...wherever he left that blue box."
"Good."
The single word carried an unexpected certainty.
She picked up her coat from the back of the chair.
"What are you doing?"
"Coming with you."
He frowned.
"Kate—"
"I'd like to meet the man who's asking my father to disappear into the Middle Ages."
"This isn't your responsibility."
"No."
She slipped her arms into the coat.
"It isn't."
She fastened the buttons one by one.
"But before you walk away from everything you've built..."
Her eyes found his.
"...I'm going to look him in the eye."
She smiled then.
A very small smile.
One Alistair recognised immediately.
It was the smile she wore just before refusing to be left behind.
"And after that," she said, reaching for her bag, "we'll see."
Kate was halfway through pretending to read the same page for the fourth time when the familiar groan rolled across the garden.
She looked up.
Her father was already on his feet.
For the first time in two days, he moved without hesitation.
He opened the front door before the sound had quite faded.
The blue police box stood on the lawn, dew still clinging to the grass around it.
The door opened.
The Doctor stepped out.
"Brigadier."
Alistair inclined his head.
"Doctor."
The Doctor's eyes found Kate.
"You must be Kate."
"I am."
He offered a tired smile.
"It's good to meet you."
She didn't return it.
He looked as though he had expected as much.
"Come inside," Alistair said.
"There are things to discuss."
The Doctor hesitated.
"I've brought a few things."
He disappeared back into the TARDIS.
When he returned, he carried a neatly folded bundle.
He laid it carefully across the garden table.
Dark Stewart tartan.
A heavy woollen léine.
A broad leather belt.
A sporran.
Well-made boots.
A thick cloak suited to a Highland winter.
Alistair rested his fingertips on the tartan.
"The colours?"
"They're appropriate for the period."
The Doctor disappeared once more.
This time he emerged carrying a sword nearly as tall as Kate.
He laid the claymore beside the clothing, then added a dirk in its worn leather sheath.
"It belonged to a Stewart soldier," he said quietly. "The workmanship is right. No one will think twice about it."
Alistair nodded once.
The Doctor vanished into the TARDIS again.
When he came back, both hands gripped the handles of a stout oak chest.
He lowered it carefully onto the table.
The weight of it made the wood creak.
"Open it."
Alistair lifted the lid.
Silver caught the morning light.
Leather pouches lay stacked in careful rows beside neatly wrapped ingots.
The Doctor untied one of the smaller purses.
Gold coins spilled into his hand.
"There are English nobles. Scottish pennies. French écus."
He let them fall back into the pouch with a soft clink.
"A mixture is less likely to attract attention."
He picked up one of the wrapped bundles.
"Silver."
Then another.
"A few gemstones."
He closed the lid again.
"I thought you said Sarah had built a life."
"I did."
"Then why this?"
The Doctor rested his hand on the chest.
"So you don't arrive as another mouth she has to feed."
His eyes met Alistair's.
"Sarah Jane has survived."
There was quiet certainty in his voice.
"She's made a place for herself."
He glanced at the chest.
"This allows you to contribute from the moment you arrive."
Alistair said nothing.
The Doctor continued.
"You'll be seen as a man who's spent his life in service and has come home with his savings."
"A retired soldier."
"Yes."
"It happens."
"It does."
The Doctor managed the faintest smile.
"I don't expect you to buy half of Scotland."
His expression softened.
"I imagine Sarah Jane would have something to say about that."
Kate hadn't moved.
Her arms remained folded across her chest.
"What gives you the right?"
The Doctor looked up.
"What gives you the right," she repeated, "to take my father away from me?"
Silence settled over the garden.
The Doctor lowered his hand from the chest.
"I don't."
"No?"
"No."
"You've brought him clothes."
She looked at the tartan.
"A sword."
Then the chest.
"Enough money to begin a new life."
Her eyes returned to his.
"You seem remarkably prepared for someone who doesn't."
The Doctor closed his eyes briefly.
"I'm sorry."
"No."
She shook her head.
"That isn't an answer."
He met her gaze.
"I exhausted every other possibility."
"And this was all that remained."
"Yes."
"My father loses everything."
"He volunteered."
Kate gave a short, humourless laugh.
"You asked."
The Doctor had no reply.
She looked at him for a long moment.
"I'm coming too."
Both men turned towards her.
"No," the Doctor said gently.
"Yes."
"Kate—"
She cut him off before he could continue.
"I'm not losing my father."
"This isn't a holiday."
"I know."
"You may never see this time again."
"I know."
"You'll leave your friends."
"I know."
"You'll leave university."
"I know."
She took a step closer.
"But I’ll keep him."
The Doctor looked across at Alistair.
He found no support there.
Alistair knew that look.
Once Kate had reached a decision, arguing only made her more certain.
The Doctor sighed.
"I only prepared for one traveller."
"Then prepare for two."
"It isn't that simple."
"It rarely seems to be with you."
For just a moment the corner of the Doctor's mouth twitched.
Then he disappeared back into the TARDIS.
"I'll see what I can find."
His voice drifted back from somewhere impossibly deep inside.
"You're rather taller than Sarah."
The sound of drawers opening echoed faintly through the open doors.
Alistair turned to his daughter.
"Kate."
She looked at him.
"Are you absolutely certain?"
She didn't hesitate.
"Yes."
"You've a degree to finish."
"I don’t need to finish the degree."
"You've your own life."
"I'll still have one."
He searched her face.
"You understand what you're choosing."
"I understand what you're choosing."
The words settled between them.
Neither spoke for a moment.
The Doctor returned carrying another bundle.
A dark green wool dress.
A warm cloak.
Sturdy boots.
He stopped beside them.
"There is... one difference."
Kate looked at him.
"You may be able to come home."
She frowned.
"How?"
"If, years from now, you decide you want to return..."
He chose his words carefully.
"Leave me a letter."
"A letter."
"I know where I'll be at certain points in history."
He glanced back towards the TARDIS.
"If you leave instructions where I know to look... a place... a date..."
He offered a tired smile.
"I can collect you."
Kate considered that for a moment.
"I suppose that won't work for Sarah Jane."
The smile faded.
"No."
"Because she's part of the fixed point."
"Yes."
The single word hung in the still air.
Kate looked down at the bundle in the Doctor's hands.
Then at the tartan laid out for her father.
Finally she met the Doctor's eyes.
"Then we'd better make sure she isn't alone."
A few moments later, the Doctor opened the TARDIS doors.
Cold air flooded inside.
Not the damp chill of an English autumn.
Something cleaner.
Sharper.
Heather drifted on the wind, carrying the scent of peat and distant rain.
Beyond the threshold, the Highlands rolled away beneath a pale sky, the hills rising one behind another until they disappeared into blue-grey mist.
Kate stepped out first.
The silence caught her by surprise.
No traffic.
No aircraft.
Only the cry of a bird circling somewhere above them and the whisper of the wind through coarse grass.
Alistair followed, pausing on the threshold long enough to look back at the Doctor.
"We're here."
The Doctor nodded.
"Close."
He looked beyond them towards the line of distant hills.
"But not close enough."
Alistair waited.
"I can't land nearer the village."
"Why not?"
The Doctor's gaze lingered on the horizon.
"Because I was there."
Neither of them spoke.
"I've already crossed Sarah Jane's timeline once. Any closer..." He gave a small shake of his head. "...I'd be risking making things worse."
"So we walk."
"I'm afraid so."
"How far?"
"A day."
Kate looked across the empty landscape.
"A full day?"
"If you keep a steady pace."
Alistair merely nodded.
He'd walked farther.
"I can't come back, Alistair. I mustn't. But if ever someone from... north... comes looking for you, you can trust them."
The Doctor reached into the pocket of his cricket coat.
"Oh."
He stopped himself.
"I nearly forgot."
He drew out two fine silver chains.
Hanging from each was a small circular pendant, no larger than an old penny.
At first glance it looked almost plain.
Then Kate caught the faint shimmer of Gallifreyan symbols moving beneath the polished surface.
The Doctor held one out to her.
"And one for you."
She slipped the chain over her head.
The metal felt unexpectedly warm against her skin.
Alistair accepted the second without comment.
"What are they?"
"They'll help."
"How?"
"You'll understand Gaelic."
Kate frowned.
"Understand it?"
"And speak it."
She looked up sharply.
"Just like that?"
"For now."
The Doctor smiled apologetically.
"The TARDIS usually does the work while you're travelling with me."
He adjusted the chain where it rested against her collar.
"This is... rather a smaller version."
Alistair turned the pendant between his fingers.
"And later?"
"You won't need it."
He looked from father to daughter.
"You'll learn."
The certainty with which he said it made it sound less like reassurance than simple fact.
Alistair fastened the chain around his own neck.
"How did Sarah manage?"
The Doctor's expression softened.
For the first time since arriving at Alistair's house, there was something almost fond in his smile.
"Sarah always had a habit of surprising me."
He looked out across the hills.
"It seems she... picked up certain gifts from the TARDIS."
"What sort of gifts?"
"The language stayed."
Kate glanced at her father.
"You mean..."
The Doctor nodded.
"She speaks Gaelic."
"Without one of these."
"Without one of those."
For a moment he seemed to picture her as she was now rather than the woman he'd left behind.
"I rather suspect she doesn't even realise why."
The smile lingered for only a heartbeat before fading again.
"It simply became hers."
The wind stirred around them.
The Doctor drew a slow breath.
"Follow the river until it forks."
He pointed towards a narrow ribbon of water winding through the glen below.
"Take the eastern branch."
His hand shifted towards a stand of ancient pines.
"After that you'll find a track."
He looked at Alistair.
"It leads to her."
Alistair settled the strap of his pack more securely across his shoulder.
Kate did the same.
Neither moved.
The Doctor looked from one to the other.
"I wish..."
He stopped.
There was nothing useful to add.
Alistair held out his hand.
The Doctor took it.
"Thank you," the Brigadier said quietly.
The Doctor blinked.
"For looking after her."
A shadow crossed the Doctor's face.
"I couldn't."
Alistair tightened his grip once.
"You kept her alive."
For a moment neither of them spoke.
Then Alistair released his hand.
He turned towards the valley.
Kate fell into step beside him.
Neither looked back until they had reached the crest of the first hill.
The blue box still stood where they had left it.
The Doctor remained beside it, hands deep in the pockets of his coat.
Watching.
Waiting until they disappeared from sight.
The valley narrowed as they walked.
By midday the path had become little more than a pair of ruts winding between heather and scattered pines. Alistair had taken the small oak chest without discussion. Kate carried the larger pack, refusing every offer to trade.
The only sounds were the wind and the steady rhythm of their boots.
After a time Alistair spoke.
"We should decide how we're going to approach Sarah."
Kate glanced sideways at him.
"You've already decided."
It wasn't a question.
He smiled faintly.
"I've had a day to think."
"And?"
"The Doctor's story."
"The retired soldier."
"Aye."
He adjusted the weight of the chest in one hand.
"It isn't far enough from the truth to be difficult to remember."
Kate nodded.
"So we don't change it."
"No."
He looked ahead, following the track as it disappeared over the next rise.
"We've come north after I left service. Enough years away to have saved a little. Looking for somewhere quiet to settle."
"And Sarah?"
"We don't know her."
"Not yet."
He shook his head.
"We've heard of a healer."
Kate was already beginning to understand.
"You want me to become her apprentice."
"I'd like you to ask."
She smiled.
"I don't know the first thing about being a midwife."
"You'll learn."
The answer came so simply she laughed.
"You make it sound easy."
"I doubt Sarah will."
That earned him a second smile.
He walked a few more paces before speaking again.
"You were determined to come."
"I was."
"If you're to live here..."
He glanced towards her.
"...then you should leave with skills that belong in this century."
She grew thoughtful.
"I suppose there are worse people to learn from."
"I can't think of one better."
The path curved around a rocky outcrop.
Kate ducked beneath the branch of a wind-bent pine.
"One thing."
"Hm?"
"Our names."
He looked at her.
"They fit?"
"Not quite."
He stopped walking.
The medallion resting against his chest caught the sunlight as he turned it absently between his fingers.
"When the Doctor spoke Gaelic..."
He paused.
"...I noticed something."
Kate waited.
He looked at her and said her name.
Not quite as he always had.
The difference was slight.
The sound seemed to settle naturally as it left his mouth, softened by the language that now came as easily as breathing.
Kate blinked.
"...That sounded right."
"It did."
She tried it herself.
"Cait."
The unfamiliar shape of it already felt strangely comfortable.
"And yours?"
A corner of his mouth lifted.
“Alasdair”
He answered with the same quiet certainty.
For a moment they simply stood there.
Kate smiled.
"I think I rather like it."
"So do I."
He settled the chest once more and started walking.
"Then we'd best get used to them."
Cait fell into step beside him.
"Aye," she said.
"It would be unfortunate if we forgot our own names before we met Sarah."