Chapter 2 - The Doctor

Hey, hey, hey! Here I am, writing again to inform you that I wouldn't mind a review! (ick, I know, but I'm a shameless addict)

I duon't know if you're reading this on Fiction press yet, because it don't arrive until the 16th, and I'm posting this on the 7th, but if you are - Welcome!

But any notes....ah, yes..

1/ There are a few bits which I have tries to explain to the fullest, but you mighty find reading the Amethyst story - The Kathaerodous might help to explain some plot points, but NOT necessary, as I tried to explain as best as I could in foot notes.

2/Also a slightly piss-poor reference to X/1999 is made in this story later on. See if you can spot it!

**********

'Sorry I'm late,' said the consultant on call for the evening as he walked into, 'Really bad traffic, the storm Y'know. I hope that there isn't an influx of patients tonight, or we might never get them all seen to.'

'Oh, nothing too bad Doctor,' said a nurse carrying a clipboard as he walked in. The Doctor took off his coat and started walking to his office. The nurse followed him, and said, 'Doctor, there's been an unusual case, and I've had orders straight from the top to get you on the case sir.'

The Doctor ran a hand through his bright green hair and said,' the top? How far up?'

'The Prime minister herself,' said the nurse.

The Doctor sighed and whistled, 'that's high. What is it? A nuclear accident?'

'No, weren't you listening to the radio? All the reporters are onto this story. Six people were lifted off a boat at sea about two hours ago...'

'So?' asked The Doctor, 'I don't get it? It's a storm, people get shipwrecked.'

'Well, yeah, but how many get lifted in from a ship which looks as seaworthy as a brick, and the captain of the crew had a sword just like the Prime minister keeps at home? I saw it only once, and that thing's an air loom!'

'As well as having historical significance to the Psyxens, yes, it is part of my own culture,' said The Doctor. 'If I remember correctly it was the sword that cut down Rex the Dictator about a hundred years ago. It was all they could do to stop a war between everyone.'

The nurse nodded and said,' but that's just a story, isn't it?'

'No,' said The Doctor,' the story is literal. The Prime Minister, Amethyst O'Neil, well she cut off Rex's head after he turned on her.'

'Blimey!' said the nurse, 'and you people say our history is bloody?'

'Oh, the story's played down. No one wants a warrior Princess any more, but it's a literal story strangely enough.'

The nurse looked down at the chart again, and changing the subject very conspicuously said, 'the patients in question are suffering from exhaustion, mild malnutrition, slight dehydration, hypothermia, three have server friction burns to the abdomen and one had a cracked skull.'

'Impressive injuries, but has anyone found out what happened yet?'

'We don't know for certain at the moment, ' said the nurse looking at the clip board again,' but they've all been given a dose of AG251 to calm them down, and have the isolation rooms..'

'Quarantined and air recycled?' asked The Doctor as he filled with a point of his green hair.

'Of course.' Said the nurse.

'Well, give me the lift and they'll be the first on my list,' said The Doctor casually. The Doctor reached his office, and snatched the clipboard out of the young nurses hand rather rudely, and feeling around in his pocket pulled out several keys. He threw the key chain into the air and caught it by the right key for his door. The he shoved the key in the lock, and opened the door to his office, and slammed it in the nurse's face. He looked at the brass plaque that quoted that The Doctor was Eteocles Ihavachie, FRCS, PA, HCHD, and walked off, hoping that he would never have to work on the same shift as 'The Doctor' as he was known as, again.

***********

Demitrius looked around him and saw nothing. It wasn't black space, or white light, but nothing. Pure nothingness. It had no colour, not even a makeshift black. Every time he tried to define it he saw it change again to nothingness. He ran forward, his feet feeling like he was running through ankle deep water barefoot. Little ripples moved along the blackness like water as he ran forward. Each watery footstep echoed like he was running in a tunnel.

He ran on, going ever faster. He didn't know why, there was no reason to this state of his, but he kept running as if he knew why, but he hadn't revealed the reason to himself yet. His footsteps grew louder and louder as he ran, kept on running until he finally ran out of breath. As Demitrius gasped for breath, his lungs feeling like someone had pushed them through a meat grinder.

He suddenly felt for his sword. It wasn't there! It wasn't there! Why? He always had it with him! He never took it off, even sleeping with it at night, holding it like a normal child would have held a teddy bear at night. He turned around sharply and saw pale blossom flying gently towards him from some unknown source. He tried to focus his eyes again, but the nothingness faded into the background, so Demitrius couldn't tell how much further he would have to run.

He looked around, turning violently everyway to see if he could see his sword. It was gone, it was gone! He was lost without it! He held out his hand and shouted into the nonentity of space, 'Give it back!'

Out of the nothingness came a bulge of space, like something was trying to force its way through a black soap bubble. The bulge grew bigger and bigger, until finally, thrusting its way through into the nothing world Demitrius was in a figure appeared. It had long white hair, longer than any Demitrius had seen before, so long that it dragged along the ground and a few feet more, and it crawled. It was the first thing he noticed about it. It had crawled here on its hands and knees, dragging the heavy white canvas outfit along the ground. The outfit was embroidered with rune in Psyxen he couldn't understand, and some symbols of long forgotten religions.

The figure, crawling along like it was the hardest thing in the world to do against the light wind and bombardment of blossom, looked up at him. He looked at its feminine face; it's small body, like someone had wrapped a small child up in an awful outfit and made them grow into it, adding the weight to it. He looked at its pain, at its childish innocence, yet worldly knowingness in its face, but mostly at the immeasurable pain in its face. He felt words of the old language in its head as looked at him. He felt the voices grow and grow in his head and Demitrius stood there, unable to move. He stared into those eyes, the ones that changed colour all the time. They were first of all Silver, like his own, but then they would dissolve into a sunny gold, and then, changing in a flash to ocean blue, and then again burned away into a fiery red before mellowing into a royal purple.

Demitrius was too scared to move. He felt his legs stiffen, like ice as he felt his body grow colder and colder as he looked into those eyes. He felt for his sword, and suddenly it was there, hot, waiting in his hand. He drew it out of the sheath, the metal making a satisfying ching sound, and raised it above his head.

The face changed slightly, and it's eyes opened wide, its mouth fell open, and it tried to crawl away, but before it could even move an inch, Demitrius had cut it in half. But the wound didn't bleed. Blossom flew out of it, hitting him in the face and the body started to turn into pale pink blossom petals, that flew away into the wind. He dropped the sword as he realised that she was dead. He lifted his hand to his face, and saw a few blossom leaves on it, which flew away in the wind.

Demitrius stared at his hand for a long white before he saw two eyes, burning like flame appear before him and a word resounded around the place full of nothing.

' DEMITRIUS!'

********** Demitrius woke up, his heart beating a mile and minute. What the hell was that? His eyes sprang open and he looked up. He saw white. He saw a colour that didn't try to change itself. That was good. Demitrius tried to focus on it and work out what on earth it could be, but pain distracted him. His whole body felt as if someone had hit him with s sledgehammer. It ached all over; feeling broken and weak, by his head hurt the most, like a beast inside his skull was throwing itself against the confines of his head.

Demitrius strained his eyes, but the more he did, the weaker he felt. Instead he closed his eyes, and listened. Each sound, even the sound of his own breathing made his head pound. He listened to the sound of birdsong outside the room, seemingly unmuffled as a gentle breeze blew across the room. Demitrius couldn't hear the sound of people walking around outside, or people fighting, which was unusual for any conurbation of any size Demitrius had been in for a long time. As the pounding in his head started to lessen, he decided to try opening his eyes again.

He groaned, the room looked fuzzy, but soon it started to swim slowly into focus. There was white, white that looked smooth and not particularly textured in any way. He rolled over and noticed how the bed didn't feel like he was about to fall out of it. Wait? Bed? He hadn't slept on a bed for a good few 'd been hammocks for the last three where did 'bed' formulate in all this? He noticed how he felt warm and dry, not cold and damp as he had for a long while, and how the sheets weren't as chaffing as sandpaper, the usual quality of material since the suddenly panicked. This was all to good to be true, it had to be, there had to be a felt his hip for his sword. It was gone! It wasn't there! He looked at his clothes. Where was his kaki combats made in the days before the war, or the rough, cotton tunic Tiger Lily had spun for him? Where was the long black cotton shirt that had been made from the itchy wool that made your stay awake and keep your guard? But most of all, where was the leather makeshift scabbard he kept by his side with his sword in it?

Demitrius ripped the warm, white duvet of his bed, and looked around in a panic. The room was almost completely white and sterile, the only objects being a bedside table, a chair and, of course, the bed. Demitrius looked to the window. Outside there was a blossom tree, which little pale pink petals fell from, blowing past the window. Still in fear of his dream, but more afraid for the crews, and his, life, he ran over to the window, and tried to open it. The large window wouldn't open, no matter how much Demitrius tried to will it. He took a step back, and though he might finally use his powers.

He started to concentrate of the window, thinking about it opening, and soon a low humming started, as if the things in the room were singing in a language only known to things that were once trees. He humming grew in both pitch and loudness, and soon it became unbearable, the whole room shaking almost in nervous anticipation. A silver light grew around Demitrius, as if he were a light bulb, emitting the light. Demitrius stepped back, and started to chant something under his breath, something that was chanted to fast that no one would be able to hear it, let alone understand it. Finally, as if eve the room itself was under so much pressure it would have to explode, an invisible bolt of pure power seemed to force itself right out of Demitrius, pushing him back into the wall and hit the window.

**********

The Doctor looked up as he heard a loud 'BOwwwwowowowoowowowowowow' sound coming from one of the rooms near his office. He sat up, and looked down at the clipboard on his desk. Room 42. The noise had to coming from there.

He stood up, looking as heroic as a thin man with green hair and yellow eyes can, and picking up his usual equipment he took the description of 'patient A' from the clipboard. So, he was a young man, about sixteen by human years, bright red hair, silver eyes. That's all he needed to know. The Doctor put the piece of paper in his top pocket, and ran out, slamming the door behind him.

**********

As it hit the window, it quivered, and a loud smack was heard. But that was it. As Demitrius looked back up, he realised that all his power felt had been wasted. The window was all right. It hadn't even cracked! Demitrius looked at it in disbelieve, and walked slowly towards it. Then, about half way there, he felt his legs collapse from underneath him. He panicked, and cursed out loud in Psyxen. He swore again, in English, and tried to pull himself up off the floor. But it didn't work, he just lye there, his legs feeling too weak to walk. He lay on the floor, tears forming in his eyes, Oh, sweet Lady[1] he hadn't felt this helpless since the end of the war and his parents had abandoned Tiger Lily and him. He had no power then, and being the oldest, and the only son he was the one who was meant to have power. But he didn't. He couldn't even walk now.

Demitrius tried to get up again. He willed some life into his legs, and stood up slowly, his legs shaking like they were made from jelly. He breathed out loudly, and tried to walk the seeming long walk from the floor to the bed. At least there he could rest until he though his way out of this situation. Demitrius did make it back to the bed, after a few false tries, and collapsed on it. His strength was gone. Maybe it was the 'power' he had tried to use that had caused his to be so weak; maybe it was the strict rationing they had undergone on the ship as food had run out. There had been little food left on the boat before the storm, and they had tried to share it equally. Whatever was left, and not eaten by the insects and worms in the rotting food had been given out, although Demitrius knew for a fact that Nathan had been giving half his meagre share to Denver, Eteocles hadn't even eaten for Goddess know how long because he was 'The Doctor', while Bennett had given nearly all his food to the Angel.

Oh Bennett. He knew he wouldn't ever see Bennett again. He had been washed Bennett. He may have been a Demon, but he was good. He hadn't been into tempting or making life worse. His heart wasn't in the job after he met Solange. To him, sinning didn't seem as good without the Angel near him telling him that he was wrong. He knew their love story, and it was a bit like Romeo and Juliet, except no one died, the warring family were a lot more famous and fish tanks were not involved at all. To simplify, they met as ambassadors to their cause on earth, and because they had connects through the same family of humans, they met a lot, and sometimes they would realise that they weren't all that different. Finally, by accident they both realised that they were in love, even though it was against the 'rules'. With the help of a friend they kept seeing each other until finally The Lady and Luferin[2] found out. They had threatened her with becoming a demon, and for a while she became one, until she realised that it was impossible for her to be one. Then, both of the pleading asked to be made mortal. Luferin and The Lady were displeased, but after much deliberation granted the two their wish. But strangely both Luferin and The Lady had left them with their powers for reasons that are unknown to both Bennett and Solange.

But he was dead. There was no Bennett and Solange. There was only Solange, and a space next to her where Bennett would have stood. Demitrius hated thinking about it. He had, in the absence of a better word, grown to love Bennett. He had been a comrade in their fight for survival, he had been with him when they had been out in the wild, hiding from men, and he had been with him on the ship, suffering from hunger and fatigue like everyone else. There was no longer 'demon' to shout at, as Solange had done so many times when Bennett started to annoy her. And he was no longer there to retort Solange's insults wit fully, making everyone gasp at his sheer audacity. He was no longer there to help out. He was no longer there to watch his back in a fight. He was no longer there to look after Nathan. Nathan was part human, and in that sense the outcast of the group. His mother had been part of the family that Bennett and Solange were sent to protect and tempt, but his Psyxen blood had not stopped him from being the recipient of their help. Nathan , strange. It was hard to tell what he was, or what he was thinking half the time. Demitrius, although loving him as well[3], found him very hard to understand or be close to.

Thinking of his friends strengthened him, and made Demitrius feel strong enough to sit up. He felt much calmer, but more determined. He had to get out of this room, and then he had to find his friend. Who knows what torture they may be under? And Demitrius, as their Captain had to be the one to take responsibility, or no one would. But maybe he was with friends? Maybe that's why he wasn't being tortured right now? But then he remembered the window, and realised that wherever he was, it wasn't near home..

Demitrius got back into the clean (white) bed, and lied down. He was still worried about his sword, very worried about it. If anyone else had it, then, then, then...then they would have his sword. They wouldn't be able to sell it, no one but him could touch it in a fight and not be killed by it, but it was his sword, the last thing his parents had left him. The reason why it was special was no because it was richly decorated, or any amount of sentimental value, but because it had power. It didn't have any silly spells on it, or any blessings from anyone important, but it had part of the blade from the Amethyst sword forged in it. The Amethyst sword had belonged to Amethyst, one of the Kathaerodous[4], and his mother. The sword had been broken in a skirmish, but another sword was made, including a bit of blade that had been salvageable from the battle scene. It had been given to him just before she had left[5]. It was all he had left of her.

The door slammed open very quickly and someone shouted in a familiar voice, 'What's going on here then?'

Demitrius sat up, looking at the person who had just run in. It had to be Eteocles. No one else he had even known had green hair and yellow eyes, sand didn't try to hide the in some way. As The Doctor looked at him, Demitrius relaxed.

'Ah, so...'Said the doctor nervously,' what just happened?'

'Eteocles, we've got to get out of here!' he said, ' 'They've taken my sword and I've been locked in here, I can't even force the window open.'

'Oh, so you tried to force the window open,' said Eteocles sighing in realisation, tell me, does this room threaten you..'

'Teo, listen to me!' said Demitrius, 'I have a feeling this place isn't need to get out of here! I think 'They're going to try and hurt us; we need to get the others.'

'How do you know my name?' asked Eteocles, a look of incomprehension on his face.

'Teo, we've know each other for a year!' said Demitrius, 'we were on the ship together, remember? The storm did something to it.. Teo, we lost Bennett.. Teo?'' Demitrius looked into the yellow eyes, and saw no flash of recognition, no sign on winding him up, no glimmer of recall, but a blank unaffected expression of confusion and miscomprehension. Demitrius looked at Eteocles with his wonderful Silver eyes and said, 'Teo?' Then, his voice so calm and quiet you could hear each syllable shake he said,' what have 'They' done to you? Don't you remember me?' his words started to panic now, as he tried to stand up and walk over to him. 'Teo! You have to remember me! Teo! TEO!' Demitrius felt to the floor as he shouted at the poor confused doctor.

Eteocles ran over to him, and caught him before he hit the floor. 'Hey, you have to be more careful,' said Eteocles, his voice unusually caring for the habitually rational, slightly aloof doctor he was,' you're still weak, what have you done to yourself.'

Demitrius felt humiliated, here was Eteocles, usually distant from him being .caring sounded patronising in his voice. And the worse thing was that he needed his help. The worse thing was that here was Eteocles, who knew him, how knew that Demitrius was his captain, helping him onto the bed again, treating him like a kid! Maybe he wasn't only a kid still, being sixteen years old, but it wasn't fair! Demitrius felt the tears in his eyes grow so that 'They' would have to burst forth from his eyes lids. They grew so big that if he didn't cry they would damage his eyes, burning them. Soon he felt the shame of hot salty tears running down his face out of embarrassment, confusion and sheer sadness.

He heard himself weeping, trying to hold the sobs back, but somehow this made the sound more pathetic. 'Oh Sweet Lady..' He whispered out aloud,' Teo? Teo, Teo, Teo. '

The Doctor ignored the tears (in usual Eteocles fashion as he didn't like dealing with things like this.) and started to check things like his pulse and other things as he talked to the boy. 'How longer were you on the ship?' he asked.

'About three months..'

' seemed to be suffering from did you have to eat?'

'Nothing since the accident,' explained Demitrius,' How long have I been out?'

'About a day,' said Eteocles.

'That's strange.' Said Demitrius.

'Hmm.' replied the doctor.

'It's just you seem to have gained a lot of weight since I last saw you..'

The Doctor stopped in his tracks. 'I what?'

'Well, you had given away nearly all your rations to help keep the rest of us alive,' said Demitrius,' and you did look awful then. You look a lot better.'

'Right,' said The Doctor, trying to block the thought out of his mind. 'So why were you out on the ship?'

'Have 'They' brainwashed you Teo?' asked Demitrius,' you were the one to suggest it first, well, indirectly. We were out to see if there was others left, to see if there were lands that still had fertile soil. To see if there were humans still alive that didn't want the war to go on.' He explained.

'War?' asked The Doctor,' What war?'

'You don't know?' asked Demitrius,' Teo, 'They' killed your family. 'They' killed mine, 'They' killed Myotisis, don't you remember? 'They' killed nearly all of us, and then after 'They' decided to release that virus, well, 'They' didn't think it would kill them as well, but it affected them worse than us.'

''They'? Us?' asked The Doctor, 'who are 'They'?'

''They' ' asked Demitrius, his brow knit in slight confusion. Then in the voice of someone talking about something so sad that they had to keep their voice neutral or they would cry he said, ''They' were humans Teo. They tried to wipe us out. 'They' freed the virus that killed Stacei.'

The Doctor stopped again, and grabbed his bag. He looked the boy nervously, and then, his eyes growing wide, ran out of the room, slamming it behind him and with a fumbling of keys, closed the door.

**********

Thanks for reading, and I hope that you might review me. If you hated this, just tell me and I'll stop leashing this stuff on humanity! If you like, I'll put up and write more. Either way, you'll win!!

Again, thank you if you read far enough to get to this message, I really appreciate it. ----------------------- [1] In this world, God is traditionally seen as a woman rather than a man. It is addressed as The Lady and Goddess instead of The Lord and God. [2] Luferin - their name for Satan.

[3] Love to Psyxens is hard to translate into English as they half about half a dozen words for love, and we half only the one. The nearest word that you can use id the Greek word Philous- love of friends. This does cause much confusion to people such as us, but it is essentials that we realise that the Psyxen's do not have the same hang ups about love and its expression as people in western societies do today.

[4] In Psyxen history, the Kathaerodouses were people who were supposed to take the Psyxen race to another place they called Huavi, or roughly translated into a term that can be understood, a type of heaven where there was no man, and no pain. But what happened was that man stopped the katharodouses, and the war started between man and Psyxen.

[5] The Psyxen's also have a history of not really caring about things such as being male or female. It was more important to be the first born or powerful than your sex. This is a phenomena not often repeated in human society.