Chapter Text
The TARDIS wheezed, that beautiful, calming noise like music to the Doctor’s ears. Him and Martha had just visited Egypt, under the rule of Cleopatra. For once, no saving had to be done, it was just a delightful trip.
And just like that, Martha’s room no longer contained a bright blue Police box, she slouched down at her desk. Staring at a diagram of the brain, she promptly reminded herself where she was at in her work before that particular trip.
Studying the frontal lobe, and its functions. It was always funny to her, how medicine seemed to be just about the only career where you never stop having to learn new information.
Having looked over her work for a little while, she managed to convince herself to eat dinner. It must’ve been about six hours since Martha last ate, so she was reasonably rather hungry.
Before the Doctor had left, the pair hugged. It wasn’t anything new, he’d mentioned to her before how this version of him liked hugs quite a lot, so they were to be enjoyed while his time in that body lasted. However, only once she had sat down with a bowl of spaghetti, this time Martha found a suspiciously red looking hair on the collar of her brown shirt. This wasn’t normal hair, where a single strand would have to be properly observed to see its colour, it was very obviously red.
That’s strange, Martha thought to herself. Why would she have that on her?
*
Speeding through the time vortex, the Doctor ran around, frantically pressing buttons on the console. Admittedly, he wasn’t sure where he was headed, he just needed something to do. He hoped the TARDIS would come up with something, and, to no surprise, she did. A churchyard. Random choice, but that was pretty typical for his ship. There was a large stone statue towering over him, one of the ‘archangel Gabriel’ holding a cross. Having both felt, and tasted, the air (along with licking several trees and consuming approximately ten grams of dirt for extra measure), the Doctor drew up the conclusion he was in Edinburgh. Presumably sometime around 1830, perhaps a few years before. Two voices filled the Graveyard, they were gradually moving closer to him and the statue. Crouching behind the closest headstone, he watched as two men approached the statue, staring at its head.
The two figures were best described as complete opposites. One had short, fluffy hair, white as snow. Rays of light reflected around each strand, in a way it looked like a halo. If an angel were to have a human form, it would be that man. His tattered, beige suit was well worn- and the Doctor wasn’t too sure that he’d look quite right in any other outfit.
The other was tall, with a large black hat and a matching outfit. He had a pair of black glasses over his eyes, the lenses completely blacked out his eyes- for the very simple fact it was the middle of the night, he shouldn’t have needed to wear them.
They looked wealthy, the Doctor figured that he would likely be in trouble with them if he were to be spotted- hiding in a graveyard at night was not exactly the best idea for the 1800s. However, something about the two men was odd- mysterious.
Maybe it was how the taller man looked worryingly alike to him, or maybe it was something else. Keeping an eye on them, the Doctor remained squatted behind the Gravestone he used as a hiding spot.
They wandered over to a woman, dragging a fresh body out of its grave. Unlike what one could expect from them, the two men seemed to be helping her. Or not.
The taller one was intrigued, he assisted her in placing the body in a barrel. Meanwhile, his seemingly angelic counterpart looked worried.
*
After following them around for a little while, the Doctor had watched as they took the dead body into a building. The woman had promptly proceeded to storm out, kicking a bucket over before running off. He made his way to the door, and slowly creaked it open. Neither of the men were in there, all he could see was the barrel that had previously contained a whole body. Now, it was more of a soup with human bones.
But how?
That wasn’t possible.
*
Sure, the Doctor had stuck around in Edinburgh for a little longer. But nothing else happened, nor could he exactly feel that something was off with time. Perhaps this wasn’t a problem for him to fix?
What he hadn’t realised, was that this little trip had cemented a change.
Martha had found a bright red hair of his, but the Doctor still looked like his normal self up until just after he had stopped watching the two strange men. He’d returned to the TARDIS after following them back to the graveyard, so what happened next was unknown to the Doctor. The taller of the two men had destroyed a small building, growing to tower over the surrounding forest, having downed a bottle of laudanum.
A fiery tint had covered his previously brown hair, its colour now more maroon. How would the Doctor know this though? It’s not like he found himself using a mirror all that often, until he returned to Martha’s room. Having locked the TARDIS behind him, his gaze rose to her full length mirror on the wardrobe door.
Red.
“Doctor? You’re back! So, where are we going ne-“, Martha skipped through the doorway, her expression contorting into one of confusing having spotted his hair, “-that’s.. uhm, new. Happen to have discovered hair dye in the time you were gone?”.
He looked back at her, “No- I. I’m not entirely sure what happened. Went to Edinburgh, ya know?”, the Doctor wasn’t sure if he was supposed to be worried. Well, probably, but a minor change in hair colour didn’t seem all that troublesome.
*
A few weeks had gone by, the Doctor and Martha travelling the universe as was normal. Admittedly, his hair had been getting more red. After three weeks, traces of brown weren’t identifiable. It had reached a much brighter shade, he’d been keeping an eye on it, ensuring nothing was wrong. So far, he was fine. A time lord’s appearance changing in this fashion was highly unusual, it hadn’t happened before. However, the Doctor was for once willing to throw all logic out of the window. He was the last member of an alien race, who had two hearts and were capable of cheating death to a certain degree by changing their faces, did anything make sense?
Anyway, the Doctor had always wanted to be ginger, this was close enough. Laying on the ground of the console room, he stared up at one of the brown pillars which supported the TARDIS’s ceiling. Bored. He came to the conclusion that he should probably go and collect Martha, find somewhere to go, something to do.
Springing up from his spot on the ground, the Doctor clapped his hands excitedly, facing the console. Just like that, Martha.. appeared.?
“Doctor… what- how-?”, she span in confused circles, her eyes flicking around the room.
“I have no idea. This shouldn’t be possible.”, had he done something? No.. that- no. “What were you doing before you got here?”.
“What does it look like?”, Martha gestured down to the blue scrubs she was wearing, “Working. Now could I please go back. As much as I love adventuring with you, I have a job to do.”, she slouched against the pillar he had previously been staring at.
“I need to figure out exactly what got you here.”, she rolled her eyes at this, “No, it’s not ideal. But it doesn’t make any sense.”
The nature of her sudden appearance seemed as though he’d brought her there by clapping his hands. But that wasn’t the case, nobody could do that. Although, deep down, he wasn’t willing to admit that he did feel a wave of, something, powerful when Martha appeared.
The Doctor made eye contact with her, he watched as her eyes widened, and she began to stare as if there was something new that she had found surprising.
“Doctor. The eyes are new.”, she flashed a bright smile at him.
He wasn’t sure what she was on about, he’d started keeping a mirror in the console room to check on his changing hair colour, but to his knowledge nothing had happened to his eyes. “What do you mean by that?”, the Doctor moved towards his small mirror.
“Well, I’m not too sure if serpent suits you.”, he reached the mirror, those were certainly not his eyes. Nearly the entirety of both eyes were a bright yellow. With long, diamond shaped pupils running down the middle. Yep, definitely serpentine.
“I- how did that eve-“, he was considerably more intrigued by this than could be implied by the way he stumbled over his words. “Martha, I feel- you might need to have the TARDIS in your room a little longer than normal this time.”
’High off my head on laudanum, not responsible for my actions’
The two men in Scotland- they had something to do with this. Memories had entered his head that weren’t his, they were few and far between, but that didn’t mean they weren’t there. All of a sudden, the Doctor remembered that night in Edinburgh, from the perspective of the tall man. And he remembered the other one’s magic show in 1941- and- he knew their names. Or at least he was about 90% sure. Aziraphale and Crowley, but the Doctor still didn’t know who they were, or why this was happening. Nevertheless, he had to find them- there was a bookshop.
“What exactly do you mean?!”, Martha’s voice brought him back to reality.
“Oh, never mind. How would you feel about visiting a bookshop?”, the Doctor liked words like that, the ’p’ was fun to emphasise.
“Like, one in space?”, she asked, sounding a lot more excited by the idea than anyone else would be at the idea of visiting a bookshop, “Please tell me it’s somewhere cool, like-“
He cut her off before she got too hopeful, “Nope, in London. Now.”, Martha sighed, “Look, I know it sounds boring but it could help me figure out what’s been happening to me. And maybe how you just appeared in the TARDIS randomly.”.
“Alright. I’ll visit a bookshop with you.”.
And off they went.