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theetherealbloom · 10 months

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WHERE DO WE GO NOW? - CH. 1 | 14th Doctor

Chapter One: After All Of The Time, And Give An Actual Try

Summary: An enigmatic old face makes a reappearance, heralding unforeseen events. A mysterious spaceship plummets to Earth, bringing chaos and prompting the Doctor's intervention. Amidst the unfolding narrative, a cute and endearing creature seeks assistance, weaving together elements of mystery, adventure, and companionship.

Pairing: 14th Doctor x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Hurt-to-Comfort, Angst, Fluff, Possible Plot Holes, Vague Background, Aliens, Mild Horror, Violence, Past Trauma, Depression, Anxiety, Timey-Wimey Stuff, Star-Crossed Lovers, Second Chance

Word Count: 12.2k

A/N: Surprise! I love Doctor Who too. I’m a huge nerd, I know tehe. I hope you enjoy this mini-series I have planned for the 14th Doctor! As we know, he is played by the beloved David Tennant who is one of my favorite Doctors ever.

Song: Where do we go now? By Gracie Abrams

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Dividers by @/saradika-graphics

MILLSON WAGNER STEELWORKS, NORTH LONDON – EVENING, DECEMBER 2023

A UNIT team was promptly dispatched as the spaceship breached Earth's atmosphere, making its way North of London. Both serving as scientific advisors, you and Shirley were on-site where the ship had landed.

While some military personnel were busy extinguishing the flames from the spacecraft and securing the perimeter, preventing you from delving further into the investigation, you found yourself engrossed in studying the ship's scans displayed on the monitor in your hands, attempting to unravel the mystery.

"Miss them, do you?" A voice called out from behind.

You averted your gaze from the tablet, turning to find Shirley maneuvering her wheelchair next to you. Curious, you asked, "What? Who?"

The redhead sported a cheeky smile. "The Doctor, of course."

It was widely known that you had journeyed alongside the Doctor and his myriad companions. Images of their faces flashed in your mind as you reminisced about those exciting adventures. Rose, Donna, the Ponds, Clara... you longed for them. There was a noticeable absence of the Doctor that left a gaping black hole in your chest.

You shook your head, muttering to yourself, "Can't let the Doctor catch a glimpse of me again; the entire universe might just fold in on itself once more. Already me being here is a problem since there’s a possibility he could pop out at any moment. I’m only on duty since I owe Kate a favor."

Shirley hums and responds, "I've read the files, you know. You two were quite the team. Everything that had happened… was in the wrong place at the right time. Still, it could happen, the two of you… together."

You raise your eyebrows at her and offer a small smile while shaking your head, scoffing, "The Doctor was unaware before, and I won't be the catalyst for another cosmic meltdown due to my selfish reasons. Besides... the Doctor doesn’t know I’m still alive and UNIT is already on my arse for even existing on this timeline.”

The redhead emits a sympathetic murmur and pats the side of your thigh, "Wasn't your fault, love. A colossal tear in time and space that dragged you in here... sounds like fate, or destiny even. If anything, maybe it was supposed to happen... like you and—"

The tablet beeps, abruptly halting Shirley's train of thought. You glance at the monitor, furrowing your brow, then hand over the device to her, saying, "You need to see this. I believe there's more to this than we initially thought."

“Now I think we’re making a fundamental mistake. ‘Cause maybe that spaceship was a collision course to start with, but look.” Shirley says while the UNIT soldier looks at the tablet, “At the last minute, it pulls up, then settles. What I’m sayin’ is, that ship didn’t crash. It parked.”

As Shirley presents her observations to the UNIT soldier, you can't help but notice the intensity in her gaze, the lines of concentration etched across her forehead. The soldier queries, "No signs of life?" You step forward, interjecting, "Not yet. But we don't know what kind of life we're looking for."

Suddenly, an unexplained shiver races up your spine, goosebumps breaking out on your skin. A palpable sense of familiarity and the eerie feeling of being observed by someone you know too well. Your expression shifts into a frown, and Shirley catches on, concern knitting her brows. "What? What's wrong?" she asks.

You open your mouth but hesitate, exchanging glances with Shirley and the UNIT soldier. Shirley, sensing the urgency, instructs the soldier to step aside. Both of you retreat to a secluded corner, where she probes, "What happened? You look like you've seen a ghost, dear."

You exhale shakily, "I... I think he's here. He's back."

Shirley blinks, seeking clarification, "You mean..."

"The Doctor. The Doctor, he’s here."

"Shirley, I need to leave, immediately," you declare, attempting to stride away with urgency.

"Wait, hang on a second," Shirley interjects, gripping your wrist and compelling you to halt. "He's already seen you, yeah? Looks like nothing bad has happened and—"

"Nothing bad has happened yet, Shirley. The stars could go out; millions of galactic species could die if we so much as breathe in each other's direction. I can't risk it. I won't."

Tears well up, and Shirley guides you to a stop near one of the staircases, settling herself in her wheelchair. As you take a seat, you rub both hands over your face, wiping away the tears. "I should have died that day."

Shirley remains silent, allowing you to continue as you shakily sob, "I should have died. But I didn't, and I'm still here."

"I lied to him, Shirley. I lied. He... he might never forgive me for it," you confess brokenly. Shirley shrugs, offering, "You won't know unless you talk. And it seems to me that whatever was keepin’ you apart before… is tellin’ you two maybe now is the right place at the right time."

Deep in contemplation of your choices, someone suddenly seizes your wrist, muffling your voice as they pull you close, your body pressed against a comforting warmth.

"Hey, it's me. It's the Doctor," he reassures, and you instinctively push away, allowing some distance between you two. Both of you stand there panting, but he breaks the silence first, shouting, "I thought you were dead!"

Throwing the words back at him, you retort, "I was supposed to be dead!"

"Why aren't you dead?" he demands, and frustration laces your high-pitched response, "Are you bloody serious in asking me that?”

“No. Yes! Argh, I don't know!"

Shaking your head and taking a step back, you declare, "I need to leave."

The Doctor firmly grabs your wrist, halting your escape. "No. Not again."

With determination, you wrench your wrist from his strong hold, shouting, "The universe could collapse! Again! We weren't ever supposed to meet. It was a mistake."

Wide-eyed, the Doctor gazes at you and replies in a breathy tone, "Is that really what you think?"

Paused, unable to respond, you hear his voice in your head, a telepathic whisper so familiar. "You and I both know, that it wasn't a mistake."

Glaring at him, you muster as much resistance as possible, but those big dark brown eyes make it challenging. "That's not fair. Get out of my head," you retort with furrowed brows.

The Doctor whispers your name, barely audible, causing you to flinch and look away. Instead of acknowledging his presence, you pivot to a question, "You regenerated… But why this face? Why are you back?"

"Why do you ask? You don't like this one?" he retorts.

Crossing your arms, you roll your eyes, "With you, there's always a reason for everything."

The Doctor admits, "Must be why the TARDIS brought me to you and Donna."

You regard him with a concerned gaze and tone, "What? You saw Donna, did she recognize or remember you?"

"The fail-safe worked; she just commented about my clothes. She has a daughter named Rose," the Doctor hums, kicking a small piece of gravel on the floor. You nod, "Yeah, I keep tabs on 'em. Making sure they're alright. Even though Donna gave all that money away to charity."

"Do you know why she did it?" The Doctor asks.

"I don't. But I have a couple of guesses," you reply with a close-lipped smile and a shrug. The Doctor brings his gaze to you, and you can already feel the question before he says it.

"I thought you were dead, for fifteen years."

You scoff, "Oh, that's nothing for you, Time Lord and all."

The Doctor throws his hands up in frustration, "Oh, don't do that."

"Do what?" you demand.

"Pretend that it was nothing for me! You were everything to me," the Doctor says, taking another step closer, and you take a step back this time. You look at him with narrowed eyes, and in a low tone, you say, "You and I both know that's not true."

"What happened? Where did you go?"

"You and I both know what happened after Arcadia. I was ready to die. I thought I had served my purpose, what I was made for. I got shot midway through the regeneration process, and I felt it. I felt myself slipping away... I could only see the two suns, and then when I closed my eyes, there was this surge of energy... I couldn't explain it back then, and I can't now. But it was like someone had given me their regeneration energy... but when I looked around, no one was there, and I was no longer on Gallifrey."

The Doctor finishes the sentence for you, "You were brought to Earth."

You nod, "I still have no idea who did it. But now, I can't leave. And all those years, my memories were locked away in that old pocket watch until I met you... and then the stars started to go out once more, and I knew I had no choice… I couldn't stay with you."

"All those years... you were alone, just like me," the Doctor says, and you look away before sitting atop one of the crates by the pillar, sighing, "I need to leave again... planets could disappear and galaxies could collapse at any second, and we'd be back where we started."

The Doctor remains silent as you close your eyes, resting your head on one of the stacked crates behind you. You yearn for him. Every atom in your being longs for his presence, yet every angle you examine seems to present an unsolvable puzzle. Thus, you convince yourself that distancing is the best course for everyone involved. How does one repay a sacrifice of such magnitude?

Then, you detect his approaching footsteps, and he settles comfortably beside you, shoulders brushing as he leans in. "Or... we could finally figure out a way to solve the paradox."

Opening your eyes, you shoot him a pointed look. "Doctor, we're in the middle of yet another crisis. A spaceship just landed, and we have no bloody clue who the hell we're dealing with right now. And you want to solve the impossible with our situation?"

"Who says I can't multitask?" he retorts, wiggling his eyebrows playfully. You lightly smack him on the arm, feeling warmth flood your cheeks. Memories of the carefree early days flash through your mind, recalling lingering gazes and soft touches exchanged. Licking your lips nervously, you release a heavy breath, "One problem at a time. We have another alien on the loose."

The Doctor takes that as a win, a calculated risk, with the universe as a potential consequence. He's never demanded anything, and for the first time, he yearns for something for himself. He envisions it — hope — the prospect of finally rewriting the ending you both desperately desire.

The sonic clicks and buzzes as the Doctor conjures a holographic screen, displaying the schematics of the spacecraft that recently landed nearby. He retrieves his glasses from his coat pocket, donning them as he peruses the screen. Pressing a few buttons, he zooms in on the bottom part of the ship before highlighting the drive.

Frowning, your eyes narrow as an unsettling weight settles at the pit of your stomach while reading what's on the screen.

"Too good for us now?" Shirley remarks as she rolls up in her wheelchair. The Doctor briefly glances at her, nodding, and casually greets, "Evening."

Shirley smiles knowingly as she looks between the two of you. "Doctor. I see you and my colleague have talked. Has galaxies and universes collapsed yet?"

The Doctor hums, "Mmmm, not yet. Soon maybe, if I could get her to kiss me."

You smack him on the shoulder a little harder this time, and he yelps out, "Ow!" Making a face at him, you retort, "Oh, sod off!"

The Doctor gives you a cheeky smile while Shirley chuckles next to you. She then looks at the holographic screen on display, and the Doctor brings his focus back to the problem at hand, saying, "That’s a double-bladed dagger drive, damaged by laser fire which means we’ve got two sets of visitors at war with each other."

He glances at Shirley politely, "Nice to meet you. Did you get the heat readings on deceleration?" Shirley chuckles and clicks her tongue, "Oh, I got everything." She unfolds her tablet to give to the Doctor, who presses a button on his sonic screwdriver to close the holographic screen. Taking the tablet, he begins to analyze the readings as your colleague introduces herself, "Shirley Anne Bingham, UNIT Scientific Advisor number 56."

The Doctor sounds delighted, saying, "Oh! I was Scientific Advisor number one."

Shirley smiles, "No, I know. I’ve read the files. I’m gonna get a bonus just for meeting you."

The Doctor makes a face, not used to humble praise. "Oh."

Shirley then asks, "But why are you hiding away? We’re on the same side and it can’t be ‘cause of her now." She looks at you, and you also turn your attention to the Doctor.

He slightly groans and inhales sharply before replying, "It’s all a bit mad, Shirley. I don’t know who I am anymore."

Shirley crosses her legs in the wheelchair and says matter-of-factly, "Well, you look like the Doctor to me."

The Doctor shrugs, "Well, exactly. The one in the skinny suit. After that, I wear a bow tie. After that, I’m a Scotsman. After that, I’m a woman."

Shirley frowns, "But that’s your future. You can’t know that. It’s forbidden."

The Doctor replies, "I regenerated. And she became me."

Both of Shirley’s eyebrows rise, and her eyes widen as she says, "You got your old face back?"

The Doctor replies with a resounding pop, "Yep."

"But why?" Shirley asks, and the Doctor sighs, "Well, that’s what I’m worried about."

He then inhales deeply before continuing, “Because, besides this lovely stubborn woman right next to me,” you pinch the bridge of your nose briefly as he continues, “I've got this friend called Donna Noble. She was my best friend in the whole wide universe. I absolutely love her as much as I love this one right here.” The Doctor pulls a face and pouts, puffing out a breath as his thick eyebrows furrow, he says, “Oh. Hmm. Do I say things like that now?”

Shirley smiles at him while commenting, “Sounds like a good thing to say.”

You mumble, “I’m not used to this.”

“But Donna took the mind of a Time Lord into her head. I had to wipe her memory to save her life. If she ever remembers me she will die. So what happens next?” The Doctor said with emphasis and leaned closer to you and Shirley, “I get this face back, and the TARDIS lands right next to her. I turn around, there’s her husband. A spaceship crashes in front of her. That led me here to my other best friend in the whole wide universe, my Time Lady who I thought was dead for many years. It’s like she’s drawing us in.” The Doctor finishes, and you and Shirley give each other a look, processing everything he has just said. Especially you, who was processing the fact he called you his. You and Shirley blinked a few times before Shirley said, “What? She’s making it happen?”

The Doctor shakes his head, “No, she’s got no idea. She’s so ordinary. She’s brilliant. She’s got this beautiful daughter. She’s happy. Is she? Hmm.” He pauses before saying in a lower tone, “But the universe is turning around the two people I love the most again. I don’t believe in destiny, but if destiny exists, then it's heading straight for Donna Noble and quite possibly the love of my life right next to me.”

You blink in surprise, opening your mouth to try and say something, maybe correct him, but nothing comes out, so you sit there, mouth gaping next to him like a fish while Shirley has a toothy grin as you say to the Doctor, “Okay, I’m still not used to whatever this is… and I don’t think I ever will be. You’re kind of freaking me out a little, dear.”

The Doctor grins, “Ooh, are we doing pet names now darling?”

You rub your right eye, feeling a migraine beginning to form, “I… What the hell is happening? You sure you’re alright? Last time you regenerated into this form you had a high fever and you were… completely out of it.”

The Doctor scrunches his nose and sniffs, “I feel great. Fantastic even!”

You purse your lips, observing the Doctor from head to toe, and then focus on his eyes—those warm, inviting brown eyes. Softly, you remark, “You've grown.”

The Doctor returns your gaze, his lips forming a quirked-up smile that reveals a dimple. "Just a little bit, yeah."

Shirley interjects, steering the conversation back on course, “You said it was also heading for Donna. What for?”

The Doctor responds with a swift, “I don’t know.” Shirley replies with an, “Oh.” The Doctor continues, with deep emphasis, “But she can’t remember. I won’t be the one who kills her.”

Shirley nods, and the tablet in the Doctor’s hands beeps. He looks at it, saying, “Right. There’s no sign of a pilot, but that’s not an automatic drive, so you should look for–”

“Ma’am,” a soldier interrupts, cutting off the Doctor. He slinks back into the shadows, and you and Shirley listen to what the soldier has to say. “We found the escape pod. No sign of life, but we’re moving out to secure the site.”

Shirley quickly replies, “Good work, soldier. Go get it.” Dismissing the soldier and watching her walk away, the Doctor moves to stand, removing his glasses and putting them away, ready to follow the soldier. But Shirley raises her hand and says to him, “Uh, yeah, yeah. Not you two, mate. I’ve got this. Off you pop. Bye-bye.”

Shirley begins to roll her wheelchair away, leaving the Doctor and you confused. The Doctor then calls out to her, “Waited your whole life?”

To which Shirley throws a look over her shoulder as she responds with a smirk, “You wish.”

The Doctor looks at you, and you look up at him. He turns his hand, palm up, waiting for you to take it with your hand. You glance at his hand and back to his eyes; he sees the uncertainty swirling through your gaze.

The Doctor speaks gently, “I know you aren’t ready and you’re scared… but I know you’re brave. And the universe listens to the brave. C’mon, it’s time to be brave again.”

You release a shaky exhale, swallowing the lump in your throat and dismissing the rational urge to walk away from him. Taking his hand, he tugs you along, pushing his legs into a run with you, hand-in-hand.

He thrusts the exit door open, utilizing his sonic screwdriver with his other hand on the back of the UNIT truck, the chains rattling as the trunk hatch pops open, pulling you with him to settle at the back of the truck.

As the UNIT truck pulls away, you see Shirley waving you off, and the Doctor gives her a small salute while you offer her a faint smile.

CHISWICK, LONDON – EVENING, 2023

You constantly poked your head out to see the stars, in case anything had changed. The Doctor held your hand, squeezing it every time you did, quietly reassuring you that whatever you faced, you'd do it together.

Arriving in the residential area, a long street lined with cars and now multiple UNIT trucks and soldiers running around, you could hear Donna shouting, “Oh, what the hell is it doing in my shed? Get out of my garden!”

The Doctor ran towards the sound of her voice, and you followed him. Reaching Donna's home, the Doctor pounded on the door, “Let us in! Let us in!”

Sylvia glared at the Doctor as she briskly walked towards him, but he exclaimed happily, “Sylvia! Oh, Sylvia! So nice to see you again. Could you let us in?”

Sylvia angrily whispered, “You said that if she sees you again, she will die. Well, no. If – if she remembers me. That’s slightly different.”

You heard and saw Donna through the stained glass yelling from down the hall, “No such thing as spaceships? We’ve got a bloody Martian in the shed!”

Sylvia angrily said, “Just get out of here, now.” But the Doctor knelt down to peek through the mail slot to see all the commotion, finding a small white fluffy creature with big eyes. “Oh, wow. He’s so cute,” the Doctor mumbled. With no other choice, he used his sonic to unlock the door as Sylvia told Donna, “Don’t look! Don’t look. It doesn’t exist.”

As the Doctor walked down the hall, with you trailing behind him, Sylvia whirled around to slap the Doctor. He grunted and groaned, “Here we go again.”

“It’s that man!” You recognized Rose say as Donna pointed at the Doctor, “Oh, it’s the skinny man!”

Sylvia continued to try and gaslight Donna, outstretching both her arms to block both of you, “He’s not there! You can’t see him. And there’s no monster. Oh, for the love of God, none of this is real!”

You and the Doctor ducked down and crawled to the creature to help assist them. In the middle of all the shouting and noise, you saw Shaun Temple appear, saying, “Hey, hey. Dad’s home.”

Everyone stood at a standstill, wide-eyed and unsure of what to do next. After a pause, Shaun commented with a small smile, “Something smells nice.” Sylvia smiled, “Tuna madras.”

“Meep, meep.”

As you and the Doctor sat on the floor, he carefully wrapped Meep’s injury in his hands with medical tape, while you quickly assessed if the Meep had any more injuries. Sylvia spoke to Donna, “We should think about infection. I mean, I think this man should deal with this beast, and we can leave him alone and go back to mine.”

Donna pulled her arm away from Sylvia and gestured around the Meep, “Never mind. Never mind about the ferret from Mars.” She gave you and the Doctor a pointed look as she growled out, “Who the hell are you two?”

You looked to the Doctor for help, and he stumbled over his words, “I– um. What was it?” He looked to Shaun who replied, “A friend from Nerys.” To which the Doctor promptly agreed, “That’s it.”

Donna scrunches her nose and says, “Nerys. Well, now it all makes sense. That viper in the nest.” She continues and points to the Meep, “I’m not going anywhere. We could sell mad Paddington for a million quid.”

Everyone reacted, giving Donna a pointed look and a noise of disagreement, “Woah!” Donna tried to justify her comment by saying, “You fill the fridge!”

The Doctor’s expressive eyebrows furrowed, and he asked Donna, “What did happen to all your money?” Donna got defensive and threw back, “Why are you so interested in us? Everywhere you go, there you are. Now you got this woman with you,” She gestured to you, “are you sure you’re safe with him, darling? Is he forcing you to be with him? Did he kidnap you?!”

You blinked wildly at Donna, “Uh, no– I’m good. He’s my partner.”

The Doctor smirked at you, “Ooh, I’m your partner?” To which you narrowed your eyes at him, “Quiet, you.” He pouted but continued to finish wrapping the injury of the Meep, then the Doctor said, “There is one person missing. I used to know your grandad, Wilf.”

Donna shook her head, “He’s not with us anymore.”

The Doctor had a somber expression as he nodded, “Right. Course. He wasn’t young; he was—” His lower lip trembled as he admitted, “I loved that man. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

Donna shook her head, emphasizing, “He’s not dead.” Sylvia shot the Doctor a sharp look, “You idiot.”

The Doctor gaped at them, and Donna continued to share, “He’s in sheltered accommodation. He’s 94. He can’t manage the stairs.” Shaun took over, saying, “We were lucky. We couldn’t afford it, but this offer came along.”

Rose smiled, painting a vivid picture, “It’s amazing. He’s got this room, like a cottage and a garden, and it’s almost free.”

“Run by that lot in the middle of town? UNIT? This woman in charge, Kate, she says he’s an old soldier, she’ll look after him.” Shaun said, and the Doctor's face lit up, “Right. I know her. She’s looking after Wilf. Brilliant. Brilliant.”

Shaun tilted his head as he looked at you, “You look very familiar… Weren’t you with Kate as you were helping with the accommodations for Wilf?”

Your lips pinched together as you nodded, “Yeah, I work with UNIT. I check on him regularly; he’s wonderful.”

“Meep, meep.”

You and the Doctor turned to the fluffy white creature in front of you, and the Doctor’s eyebrows raised as he inhaled sharply, “Yes! The Meep. I promise I can help him get home. Then you’ll never have to see me, or well, the both of us ever again.”

Rose looked at the Doctor and gave him a questioning look, “You’re assuming he as a pronoun? Hmm.”

The Doctor took it in stride and nodded, “True. Yes. Sorry. Good point.” He quickly turned to the creature and asked, “Are you he, or she, or they?”

The high-pitched voice of the Meep responded, “My chosen pronoun is the definite article. I am always the Meep.”

The Doctor’s expression shifted to one of understanding as his thick eyebrows raised and he nodded, “Oh. I do that. But you were shot down. Who wants you dead?”

You tilt your head, captivated by the Meep's explanation, “The Wrath Warriors. They cultivate Meepkind for our beautiful fur. But then the galaxy said, ‘No more fur. It’s wrong. So the Wrath Warriors slaughtered their livestock.”

The Doctor crosses his arms, a thoughtful expression on his face, and leisurely leans back on the couch, letting his back rest against it, “You’re a fashion victim.”

A collective groan escapes from all the humans in the room, “No.”

The Doctor quickly mumbles an apology, and the Meep continues, “Now, they will hunt me down till there are no Meeps left.” The Meep sniffs, “It breaks both my hearts.”

You and the Doctor exchange surprised glances, both of your eyebrows raised. The Doctor shares with the Meep as he gestures to both of you, “You got two hearts? So do we.”

Donna quickly catches onto the Doctor's revelation and frowns, “You’ve got what?”

Sylvia tries to downplay what the Doctor just exposed, stammering as she speaks to Donna, “No. He means it like a metaphor. Like two minds. Do you?” You and the Doctor shake your heads, but suddenly there’s a pounding at the door.

“Open up!”

“Well, what the hell is it now?” Donna exclaims, her frustration evident as she wonders why all these strange anomalies keep happening. The Doctor pushes himself up, and you assist him with his navy blue coat as he puts it on. He continues addressing everyone in the room, “Ah, good. The soldiers! They can give us a lift.”

As he goes to answer the door, leaving you with the Meep and Donna’s family, Rose can't help but ask, “Are you two…”

Your cheeks feel flush, the tips of your ears turning warm, “Yep.”

Just as Donna is about to make a cheeky comment, you hear the Doctor slam the front door shut, loudly informing you all, “I think we need to run. Woah!”

Suddenly, an explosion rocks the backdoor, causing everyone to hit the ground with a collective yelp. You and the Doctor peek to look at the new visitor; arthropods, with a tough chitinous exoskeleton. With their external skeleton acting as a skelo-shield they had formidable strength. Their eyes were like large red lights. Seeing the Wrath Warriors enter while saying, “Wrath, attack formation! Surrender the Meep!”

UNIT soldiers burst in from the main entrance, their voices echoing down the hallway as they shout instructions to each other. The distant hum of gunfire and the vivid flashes of lasers light up the space, creating a chaotic symphony that fills your senses.

Donna, caught in the middle of the sudden onslaught, shouts in confusion and frustration, “What the hell is going on?”

The Doctor deftly manipulates his sonic screwdriver, adjusting its settings. He turns to Shaun and inquires, “Where’s your car?”

Shaun, bewildered but cooperative, responds, “Uh, five- five doors down.”

“Excellent.” The Doctor nods. He pivots, activating the sonic screwdriver to generate large, rectangular force fields. The blue glow emanating from the force fields reveals a recent upgrade, and you can't help but smile, commenting, “Nice upgrade, love.”

“Thanks, dearest. Help me move this, won’t you?” The Doctor passes the sonic to Donna, who handles it with familiarity. You and the Doctor work together to slide the force field into the first section of the hallway, dodging blaster shots as you go. Once in the living room again, you take the sonic from Donna, creating your force field with the Doctor’s scientific instrument. The Doctor observes you with admiration, and together, you slide the final force field into place, sealing off the area where the Wrath Warriors were firing from.

Immediately, the Doctor issues a commanding directive to the Noble-Temple family and the Meep, “Upstairs! Up, up, up, up, up, up, up, up, up!” They follow the urgent order, shrieking as they ascend the stairs, sandwiched between the force fields that shield them from the relentless onslaught of gunshots and laser fire.

“Come on, Meep!” The Doctor encourages, executing an energetic dance of hopping and flailing arms. The Meep responds with a whimper, “No.” Undeterred, you and the Doctor persist, the Doctor continuing his lively hopping routine, insisting, “Come on! That’s it.”

You guide the Meep up the stairs, the Doctor closely behind. A reassuring hand rests on your back as the trio ascends. When you're halfway across the corridor, a deafening explosion erupts from behind. The Noble-Temple family screams in fear, and you're thrown to the ground. However, the Doctor reacts swiftly, his strong arms wrapping around your waist to break your fall. In a protective move, he cushions the impact with his body, leaving you on top of him.

You swiftly roll off him, your palms hitting the floor as you propel yourself upward. Grasping the Doctor's hand, you haul him to his feet, both of you swiftly turning around to confront the aftermath—a colossal, gaping hole now occupying the space where a window once stood. Donna's cry of agony echoes through the room, "My house!"

Despite the devastation, there's no time for dwelling. The Doctor urgently directs everyone, gesticulating emphatically, "Upstairs. Upstairs, upstairs!"

Observing the Wrath Warriors soaring menacingly through the breached window, and amidst the symphony of gunfire and laser blasts echoing from the stairs, you and the Doctor deftly ascend to the third floor. With a swift motion, he lowers the ladder leading to the attic, urgently urging everyone, "Up we go! Fast as you can."

The entire group efficiently ascends to the attic. Positioned beside a robust brick wall connecting attics along the street, you and the Doctor huddle close. The Doctor showcases the device in his hand, proclaiming, "This is a sonic screwdriver. And if it's good at one thing, it's resonating concrete." He flips it in one hand before activating it, causing vibrations to ripple through the mortar.

Shaun interjects, "That's not concrete. That's mortar." Donna, in her familiarly exasperated tone, sighs and quips, "Thank you, Bob the Builder."

With a determined push, you and the Doctor dislodge the bricks, prompting them to cascade down. Donna crouches beside the Doctor, complimenting, "Skinny minnie, you're not bad."

The Doctor grins at Donna, "You think?"

However, Sylvia intervenes, frowning as she guides Donna aside, firmly asserting, "No, she doesn't. Now move."

"Come on. Five houses down," the Doctor grunts, effortlessly moving aside a box brimming with Christmas decorations. He takes the lead, guiding the family through the interconnected attics.

Traversing through these loft spaces, you witness the chaotic scene unfolding outside, with laser beams and gunshots punctuating the air. Explosions resonate in the distance as you navigate the makeshift route, carefully descending a staircase. Along the way, you stealthily pass by someone deeply immersed in sleep on a couch, oblivious to the turmoil around them.

Upon reaching a door, the Doctor jostles it open, revealing a view of the black cab parked a few meters away. Amidst the cacophony of gunfire and distant shouts, the Doctor extends his hand and requests, "Can I have the keys?" Shaun promptly hands them over.

As the Wrath Warriors advance with their menacing backs turned, the Doctor swiftly swings the door open, directing the family and the Meep into the sanctuary of the black cab. Positioned in the passenger seat, you observe the Doctor deftly using his fingers to check the pulse of a fallen UNIT soldier. Abruptly, a Wrath Warrior pivots, growling, "Meep located. Stop the Meep!"

Evading blaster fire with nimble agility, the Doctor slips into the driver's seat, swiftly igniting the engine and propelling the cab into motion. The Meep whimpers, "Help! Save the Meep!"

As the Doctor skillfully navigates away, Donna exclaims, "Oh my God!" Shaun pivots within the cab, jubilantly stating, "You did it!" Meanwhile, Rose chimes in, "We're alive," and Sylvia expresses gratitude, "Thank you."

"Meep, meep."

While the Doctor keeps a vigilant eye on the side mirrors during the escape, there's a discernible shift in his tone, "Either we've escaped, or we've got things very, very wrong."

UNDERGROUND PARKING GARAGE, LONDON – EVENING, 2023

The Doctor skillfully maneuvers the cab, smoothly parking it in an underground garage. A contemplative furrow graces his forehead as he steps out of the vehicle. With an attentive courtesy, he opens the passenger door, gesturing for you to alight from the cab. Simultaneously, he opens the back passenger door, facilitating the exit of the Meep.

The Doctor deftly extracts a barrister's wig from the depths of his coat, perching it atop his head with an air of theatrical flair. Meanwhile, the Meep positions itself purposefully in front of the cab. In a tone of authoritative declaration, the Doctor announces, "This court is now in session."

With a swift motion, he retrieves his trusty sonic screwdriver, and it emits a distinctive whiz as he proclaims, "Intercept teleport!"

The Meep emits a piercing shriek, swiftly retreating a few meters behind you and the Doctor. Donna, emerging from the cab, questions, "What the hell are you doing?" The Doctor, with an authoritative air, responds, "Silence in the court."

In the blink of an eye, two Wrath Warriors materialize just across from you and the Doctor. You stand there, massaging your face with your hand, as he adopts a menacing tone and declares, "I’m invoking Shadow Proclamation protocols 15, P, and 6. Under my jurisdiction, there will be no violence until such time I deem it fit and proper. Is that understood?"

The Wrath Warriors nod in compliance, dutifully stowing away their weapons to their sides. The Doctor, brandishing his sonic, gestures towards the taxi, asserting, “Now, exhibit A. The taxi. No scorch marks. Donna, can you confirm?” Donna swivels around, inspecting the taxi behind her, and nods, “Um. Yes, no, nothing.”

You arch your eyebrows, interjecting, “We were hit by plasma bolts, but there isn’t a mark.” The Doctor affectionately kisses your forehead, remarking, “Clever girl.” You duck your head, feeling a slight warmth in your chest and cheeks. He proceeds, “And that soldier in the street. He was unconscious, not dead.” Pointing at the Wrath Warriors' guns with his sonic screwdriver, he continues, “Exhibit B. Those guns are stun guns. Is that correct?”

The right Wrath Warrior nods, “The guns apply a mild and harmless neural anesthetic. For the record, my name is Sergeant Zogroth.” The left Wrath Warrior adds on and says, “And I am Constable Zreeg.”

The Meep interjects from behind you, its large ears folding to the side, “But the evil Wrath Warriors want to kill the Meep.”

“The only ones out to kill were the soldiers with the swirling eyes,” the Doctor asserts, gesturing in a circular motion with his sonic, his eyes widening to emphasize his point. “Were they coming to hurt you, the Meep? Or save you?” The Doctor eyes the furry creature suspiciously.

“If I may speak,” Sergeant Zogroth says, and the Doctor promptly replies, “Address the court.”

“The story of the Meep is a tragic tale. Their planet basked in the light of a living sun. Until one terrible day, the sun went mad,” Sergeant Zogroth began, his voice laden with the weight of the narrative. Constable Zreeg chimed in, “A psychedelic sun.”

Sergeant Zogroth continued, “Its radiation mutated all of Meepkind into cruel beasts who live for conquest.”

The Doctor's face lights up with realization, "The eyes. That's solar psychedelia." Sergeant Zogroth adds, “It renders them as maniacs.”

“The Meep army captured the Galactic Council, beheaded them, and ate them,” Constable Zreeg revealed, sending shivers down your spine. You and the Doctor exchange a grimace at the horrifying revelation. “The Wrath Warriors were summoned. And we fought across the stars, a long and awful battle,” Sergeant Zogroth continued with a somber tone.

“Meepkind died rather than surrender. And now, only this one survives. Their leader, the most cruel and despicable of all,” he added, pointing to the Meep, who responded with a plaintive, “Meep, meep.”

The Doctor, adopting a composed stance, interjects, “Now. Let’s be fair. It’s your turn, the Meep. Witness for the defense. So, what do you say?” The Doctor crosses his arms, and you observe as the Meep's innocent visage transforms into something more sinister and monstrous.

The Meep's sharp teeth are bared as it growls defiantly, "Oh, to hell with this!" With a swift motion, it brandishes a weapon, declaring, "Exhibit C!" The Meep takes aim and fires, bringing down the two Wrath Warriors, their bodies collapsing to the ground. You, the Doctor, and Donna quickly rush to the fallen foes. The Doctor, during the action, removes his barrister wig. The Meep, in a sinister tone, adds, "No stun guns for me! Just die!"

Shaun leaps out of the cab, urgently shouting, "Donna! Donna, don't!" Despite his plea, Donna remains fixated on the fallen warriors, her concern evident. You find yourself beside the Doctor on the ground as the Meep triumphantly declares, "And here they come! My soldiers of the psychedelic sun!"

Suddenly, a convoy of UNIT vehicles arrives, accompanied by soldiers with their distinctive headgear, forming a protective perimeter around all of you. Their authoritative voices ring out, "Obey the Meep!"

Donna, her maternal instincts flaring, turns to Shaun and passionately commands, "Get out! Get Rose out!"

Shaun swiftly maneuvers to the driver’s seat while Rose and Sylvia settle back in the taxi. However, the UNIT soldiers, now under the control of the Meep, have you all surrounded with no clear escape.

“I don’t need to pretend, for I am the Beep of all the Meeps,” the Meep declares, grinning menacingly with its sharp teeth.

Sergeant Zogroth emits a final groan, his parting words being, “Sergeant Zogroth regrets retirement from active duty.” His eyes dim, and his body goes limp. Donna, disgusted, confronts the Meep, saying, “I was right. You are a monster.”

The Meep revels in Donna’s anger, taunting, “And you believed every word I said. You stupid woman! With your weird child!”

Donna, ready to confront the Meep for insulting her daughter, stands defiantly, retorting, “Oh, don’t you dare!”

The Meep, relishing the confrontation, points its weapon at Donna, threatening, “Oh, I dare!”

You quickly rise, positioning yourself in front of Donna, raising your hands in a protective stance. Simultaneously, the Doctor moves across the floor on his knees, hands raised, pleading, “No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no! But— Last-minute evidence! Me.”

He emphatically points to himself and exclaims, “Why are there two more two-hearted species on this planet? Unless we are part of a strategy by the Wrath Warriors to outfox you? If you kill me and her and fail to take this family hostage, you’ll never find out, will you?”

The Meep hums, then commands the soldiers, “Bring them!”

The Doctor stands animatedly, “Good! Now, look, I can suggest a much better way off this planet than a double-bladed dagger drive. ‘Cause that thing is gonna—”

His sentence remains unfinished as he is abruptly knocked out by a UNIT soldier. The Meep cackles triumphantly as the rest of you are ushered into the back of a truck, alongside the unconscious Doctor.

On the truck's floor, the Doctor lay with his head resting on your lap, his unconscious form a testament to the challenges you faced. Your fingers moved soothingly through his untamed, spikey hair, offering a quiet comfort amid the tension.

Donna observed the scene, her curiosity getting the better of her. "How long have you two been together?" she inquired, attempting to place where she might have encountered you before.

"A good number of years," you replied, choosing to keep the more intricate details to yourself, considering the Doctor's timeless nature.

Rose, equally intrigued, posed another question, "Are you two married?"

A snort escaped you. "Nope. I don't think he wants that with me if I'm being honest."

“Why?” Rose pressed on.

Your gaze drifted, and you sniffed softly. "I’m all sorts of wrong for him. And sometimes, it scares me. The emptiness I see in my eyes,” you admitted, vulnerability seeping into your words. Your eyes lingered on the Doctor as you continued, “The Doctor is brilliant. He is truly brilliant. After all he’s been through... he deserves everything good and more… more than me.”

As your confession lingered in the air, the Doctor began to stir awake, bringing a momentary hush to the truck. His eyes fluttered open, and a low groan escaped him as he gradually sat up, settling next to you.

Donna eyed the Doctor with suspicion, her narrowed gaze fixed on him. "Who are you?" she questioned, her tone demanding answers.

The Doctor, still feeling the effects of his earlier unconsciousness, touched the back of his head with a wince. "I’m just passing by," he nervously replied, attempting to deflect her inquiries.

Undeterred, Donna redirected her attention to her mother, Sylvia, and pressed on, "Do you know him?" Sylvia, in an attempt to conceal any familiarity, shook her head, responding, "No."

Donna, frustrated and puzzled, continued, "You act like you know him. Ever since he arrived, it’s like—" She heaved a heavy sigh, abruptly halting her train of thought. "I’m so stupid!" she declared, voicing her self-reproach.

Shaun quickly reassured his wife, "No. No, you’re not."

Donna shook her head, lost in contemplation. "We could be living somewhere far away from here. Monte Carlo. Switzerland." She then turned to her daughter Rose, who sat beside her. "And you— And you’d be safe, Rose." Donna pulled Rose into a comforting side hug. "It’s all my fault. Gave away that lottery money."

The Doctor, unable to resist his curiosity, interjected, "Why?"

Donna shot him a glare. "Because. There are places out there where people are in danger. And in pain. And fear. And I could help. Just felt the sort of thing he would do." Her words hung in the air, revealing a sense of duty and compassion that drove her actions.

Abruptly, the truck jolts to a stop, resulting in the Doctor colliding with one of the crates, eliciting a pained groan. You swiftly move to assist him. The truck door swings open, and a stern voice commands, "Out!"

MILLSON WAGNER STEELWORKS

NORTH LONDON, – EVENING, DECEMBER 2023

The UNIT soldiers briskly led you towards the heart of the steelworks, where the Meep's spaceship had strategically landed.

"It didn't choose the steelworks by accident. It came here to be mended," the Doctor remarked as the group neared the spacecraft. The Meep made a grand entrance, seated on a makeshift throne of steel carried by a procession of UNIT soldiers. With its menacing teeth and booming voice, it declared, "Hail to the Meep!"

A hypnotic chant echoed through the steelworks as multiple officers joined in unison, "Hail to the Meep. Hail to the Most High. Hail to the Meep. Hail to the Most High."

"Human scum, behold my vessel to the stars! Far beyond your tiny, grasping minds," Beep the Meep declares with an air of arrogance. You respond with an eye roll of annoyance, and the Doctor shakes his head while humorously interjecting, "I name this ship the Delusions of Grandeur."

Beep the Meep growls in protest, "Meep."

"You can't fire those engines. Not from here. A dagger drive gets its energy by stabbing down. It would extract, ooh, five square miles? The whole of London town burnt as fuel," the Doctor explains, his tone serious and concerned.

Rose, wearing a frown, adds, "But that's nine million people."

"A great day for Meepkind. And the start of a new reign of terror as the Meep return to the stars for revenge. And feasting. Now, activate the initializers," the Meep commands, its voice dripping with malevolence.

A disciplined UNIT soldier swiftly responds, "Initializers activated."

The low hum of the spaceship's engines reverberates through the steelworks as the Meep grins with an evil glint in its eyes, proclaiming, "Brandish the gravity stanchions."

"Gravity stanchions brandished," announces a focused UNIT soldier as the prongs of the spacecraft forcefully dig into the ground.

"Calibrate the flight deck," the Meep commands with a sense of authority, intensifying the tension in the air.

A disciplined UNIT member announces, "Flight deck calibrated."

The Meep, perched on its steel throne, commands, "Take the prisoners on board! Then I’ll decide which one to eat first. Hail to Meep!"

The rhythmic chant of the hypnotized UNIT soldiers fills the air, "Hail to the Most High! Hail to the Meep!" while the Meep indulges in a sinister cackle, reveling in its delusions of grandeur.

The liftgate slams shut, transporting you to a different floor. Thoughts of subduing the UNIT guards swirl in your mind as the lift grinds to a halt. As the gate creaks open, Shirley appears, wearing a mischievous grin. "Evening, boys."

With swift precision, she activates a concealed device beneath her wheelchair, firing two darts at each soldier. The tranquilizers swiftly take effect, rendering the guards unconscious.

"You've got weapons in your wheelchair," the Doctor exclaims, eyeing Shirley with a mixture of surprise and admiration. She glances back at him, a knowing look in her eyes, and responds, "We all have. You've got your girl to thank for that. Come on." With a nod, she leads the way, wheeling herself confidently through the complex.

"Right. You lot, the family, you can get out through that door," Shirley says, gesturing towards the exit on the right. She then turns her attention to you and the Doctor, her tone more serious, "You need to get to the engine control. But the port side’s guarded, and there's no way around it."

A quick exchange of glances between you and the Doctor precedes his question to Shirley, "So what do we do?"

With a confident smirk, Shirley retorts, "I don’t just fire darts, mate." She spins her wheelchair around, revealing hidden capabilities. With the push of a button, two missiles activate and blast through the wall, creating a makeshift path forward. The unexpected firepower leaves you and the Doctor momentarily impressed.

Shirley swiftly directs the family, "You lot run. I’ll fight them off at the lift."

The Doctor tightens his grip on your hand, leading you through the large breach in the wall. The chaotic, metallic environment of the spaceship's bridge unfolds before you. With his trusty sonic screwdriver, the Doctor deftly manipulates the controls, unlocking the gate to the engine control room. As the door creaks open, the two of you step inside, ready to stop the ship from taking off.

The Doctor removes his coat and hangs it on one of the pillars as the ship's system voice declares, “Dagger drive systems initializing.”

In a sudden burst of energy, Donna enters the control room panting, "That's enough… running. Blimey."

The system voice abruptly announces, “Chamber deadlocked.” Panic sets in as the only exit seals shut, leaving the Doctor frustrated. He slams his hands on the door, exclaiming, “No, no, no, no! I told you to go—just don’t!”

Frantically, he moves about the room, urging, “No time. I’ve got this. We’ve got it. We’ve got it. You stay there. Don’t move, Donna!”

The Doctor and you scramble around, pressing buttons and flicking switches, racing against time as the system voice declares, “Star launch in five minutes.”

Climbing up one of the pillars, the Doctor instructs you while you squat on the other side to manipulate hidden switches. Suddenly, the system announces, “Deadlock sealed.” A flicker of discomfort courses through both of you as the ship's mechanisms react.

“It’s been deadlocked,” you groan, and Donna questions, “What’s that mean?”

The Doctor replies swiftly, “It means, we can do it by hand.”

You move to the far end of the ship, and the system voice chimes in again, “Maxifold bisecting.” A glass pane wall starts dividing the room, separating you from the Doctor and Donna. “You can stay on that side Doctor, I—” But then the Doctor rolls under the glass just before it seals, protesting, “Oh. No, no, no, no!”

“Double dagger drive installed and initiated.”

You can feel your eye twitch as you look at the Doctor standing next to you. “Okay, okay. Okay, we can do it with half the room. That’s fine.” The Doctor tries to reassure himself and you look at him wondering why he had to end up on your side of the room.

“Let me help.” Donna insists and the Doctor is quick to disagree, “No! You can’t get involved.”

Donna looks at the Doctor with a glare, challenging him and the Doctor tries to steady his resolve, “You can’t!”

It's then your turn to shoot him a pointed look. The Doctor groans and pants in frustration before finally surrendering. He instructs Donna, "Switches, the top ones, the blue ones, flick them all down."

Donna diligently follows his directions, swiftly flicking the switches down, while you navigate to a different section of your side of the room to spin a dial a few times. Despite your efforts, it proves futile, and you slump down in disappointment. The Doctor, leaning defeatedly on a pillar, somberly admits, "We've run out of time."

“Ignition in 230.”

The Doctor sighs with a heavy burden on his shoulders as he confides in Donna, "If there was anything else I could do, but there's one thing left."

"Well— Well, then do it," Donna urges, her tone laced with desperation. The Doctor, however, looks down in shame, prompting Donna to insist, "Hurry up and do it! What are you waiting for?"

Pushing himself off the pillar, the Doctor strides over to the glass partition separating Donna from the two of you. "I think… all that coincidence was heading here to save London from burning. 'Cause the three of us can stop this ship. Together."

Donna gasps in realization, "Oh."

As you rise and move towards the glass, locking eyes with Donna, you declare, "But it will kill you."

Donna sharply inhales, and responds easily, “Okay.”

The Doctor’s voice cracks as he says, “You’ll die.”

Donna's lower lip trembles, her eyes reflecting the imminent crisis, as she says, "My daughter is down there."

"Ignition in 180."

Tears well up in Donna's eyes, and her voice stammers with fear, "And it's not just Rose. It's nine million people. Who cares about me?"

The Doctor responds swiftly, his urgency palpable, "I do. We both do."

Donna takes a deep breath, mustering courage, and asks, "But why?" She pauses, gathering her thoughts, and continues, "I'm just no one."

The Doctor's expression shifts to one of anger, his eyebrows furrowing as he yells, "No, you are not!"

He takes a few steps back, the weight of the situation evident in his sob and scream, "Why does it have to be this?"

"Entering the final sequence."

The Doctor looks at Donna with a somber gaze, defeated, as he utters the words that trigger Donna's memories, "Westerly. Pelican. Dreams."

Donna is desperate as she says, "I don't— Look, I don't care what it is. All right. Just— just go on and do it, will you?"

"Ignition in 150."

"Tornado. Clifftops. Andante," the Doctor says.

"Get on with it!" Donna shouts.

The Doctor continues, "Grief. Fingerprint. Susurration."

Donna's eyes light up as she begins to remember her adventures, "Oh."

The Doctor and Donna utter the last few words in unison, "Sparrow. Dance. Mexico. Binary. Binary. Binary."

A golden glow emanates from Donna, the metacrisis shimmering through as she regains her memories once more. You and the Doctor press your palms against the glass, witnessing her transformative moment.

"Ignition in 100."

As the glow dissipates, the Doctor anxiously asks, "Are you alright?"

"Ignition in 90."

Donna pants, sighs, and sweeps her bangs away from her eyes as she glares at the Doctor. Inhaling deeply, she says, "I gave away my money."

"Ignition in 75."

The Doctor looks at her, puzzled, "Right, but—"

Donna, expressing a mix of frustration and anger, interrupts, "I gave away all my money. And do you know why, Doctor? I gave it away to be like you. So I could be kind. So I could be nice. So I could be helpful— I—"

Donna releases a frustrated growl as the system voice continues, "Ignition in one minute."

Moving her face closer to the glass panel, Donna continues, "I had a subconscious, infracutaneous, retrofold memory loop making me act as soft as you and give away 166 million pounds!"

"Ignition in 50."

The Doctor, wide-eyed, nods in agreement but attempts to refocus on the urgent matter, "Yes, Donna, but— Destruction of London?"

"Oh, I'll show you destruction, mate," Donna declares, intertwining her fingers before flexing them to crack her knuckles.

"Ignition in 40."

You and the Doctor observe in awe as Donna moves around the control panel with ease. "I'll triple-drive the particle manifesto, overstep the umbilical feed, vindicate the cyberline, and roast the hyperfeeds! Like this!" Donna exclaims, spinning the dial on the lower left of her.

The Doctor navigates about half of the room, deftly flicking switches while instructing, "Maximise the stressfold links!"

"Channel up the booster drive!" Donna commands, pressing a few buttons.

"Inculcate the plexidrones!" You chime in, flicking a few more switches.

"And shatterfry the positrons! Oh yes!" Donna exclaims.

"Twenty, nineteen..."

Donna interrupts, asking, "How long have I got to live?" as she switches off a few controls.

"...sixteen, fifteen..."

All three of you simultaneously answer, "Fifty-five seconds."

"Thirteen, twelve, eleven..."

"The best fifty-five seconds of my life!" Donna exclaims.

"Seven, six, five, four..."

"Because I get to do this!" Donna proudly announces, turning around and simultaneously flicking off several switches.

"Three, two— Ignition halted."

You three watch as the panel flies off the wall; the countdown has stopped, and Donna proudly states, "Donna Noble is descending."

"Ignition reverse. Ignition reverse."

"It’s working!" The Doctor's voice resonates with exhilaration as the tangible effects of the reversed dagger drive unfold before your eyes.

However, your joy is cut short when you notice Donna beginning to falter. Panic sets in, and you urgently cry out, "No. No, no, no, no, no, no, no!"

Swiftly, both you and the Doctor move in unison to catch Donna as she descends, cradling her fragile form in your arms. Donna sighs, her expression reflecting a mix of exhaustion and relief. The Doctor reassures her, "We did it. She’s fine. She’s safe. You saved her."

Donna smiles weakly, and you add, "You saved them all."

In a moment of introspection, Donna questions, "Why did this face come back?" She turns her gaze towards the Doctor, who responds with a sigh, "I don’t know."

"To say goodbye," Donna asserts with a soft smile. She then shifts her attention to you, saying, "Oh, the Stargazer. I’ve missed you."

"I’ve missed you too, Donna, every day," you confess, and the Doctor emits a thoughtful hum.

"Good fun, though," Donna remarks, her chuckles mingling with yours and the Doctor's. The lighthearted moment takes an abrupt turn as Donna's eyes flutter closed, her entire being going limp in the arms of her two closest companions.

A collective sob escapes from you and the Doctor as you sit there, cradling your best friend, a bittersweet mixture of victory and loss filling the air.

Abruptly, the door to the engine control room opens, revealing a cadre of UNIT soldiers with swirling, hypnotized eyes. The air tightens with tension as one of them declares, "We have orders to kill you."

Undeterred, the Doctor retorts defiantly, "Do what you want. This ship isn't going anywhere. You were beaten. By the DoctorDonna." The soldiers, rifles at the ready, cast ominous shadows in the confined space. You resign yourself to the impending threat, feeling the Doctor's protective instinct as he positions himself to shield you.

In a surprising turn, the psychedelic light emitted from the soldiers' eyes screeches and hisses, dissipating into nothingness. Bewilderment echoes through the room, and you join the Doctor in uttering a perplexed, "What?"

Even one of the soldiers can't help but question, "What?"

Donna, roused from her unconscious state, adds her own disoriented, "What?"

The Doctor, his voice tinged with disbelief, softly utters, "You're not dead."

A collective sense of confusion lingers, and Donna, now fully awake, queries, "But how?" as she steadies herself.

After a brief pause, Rose's voice resonates through the intercom, "Can you hear me? Mum? Doctor? Star? I think it's safe for you to come down now."

Donna responds, perplexed, "Rose?"

The Doctor's eyes widen with a sudden epiphany, "Too much power for one person, but you had a child, and the metacrisis passed down. A shared inheritance."

Donna grins, “It was always there. Shining out of her.”

“And she chose her own name,” the Doctor adds.

“Oh, the shed! The shed was her memory of the TARDIS. The toys! Every creature we met, she remembered as a toy,” Donna says with a glint in her eye.

You gape, suddenly realizing, “We are binary.”

“She’s not. Because the Doctor’s—”

The Doctor interjects, “Male.”

“And female,” Donna finishes.

"And neither. And more," Rose says, her voice carrying a warm smile through the intercom.

Donna rushes down the stairs, her steps echoing in the cavernous steelworks. Rose meets her halfway, and they share an emotional hug, Shaun joining in the embrace.

You and the Doctor follow suit, descending rapidly to the ground floor. Sylvia awaits, and as you approach, the Doctor wraps her in a jubilant hug. He inquires, “Happy now?”

Sylvia responds with a radiant smile, "My father would be impressed. I have no higher compliment." Laughter of triumph fills the air as you and the Doctor proceed to the nearby control center.

Shirley deftly maneuvers her wheelchair towards you and the Doctor, offering her unique perspective. She addresses the Doctor with a sly grin, “There’s a word for you, Doctor. And that word is jammy.”

The Doctor responds with infectious enthusiasm, “Jam on toast.” He decisively slams a button, activating the intercom. With authority, he speaks into the microphone, “Calling the Meep.”

The Meep's defiant voice crackles through the speakers, “You forget I still have my ship. And if I have to explode the engines and rupture this world and damn us all to hell, then I will!” A shared glance between you and the Doctor follows, and he graciously hands you the task of flicking the crucial switch.

With a resounding click, the Meep’s cockpit is ejected into the sky, accompanied by the unmistakable sound of the Meep's distressed shrieks. You and the Doctor gaze upward, drawn into the spectacle unfolding against the canvas of the vast night sky.

“There you go.” The Doctor points with a wry smile, observing the Meep’s cockpit deploying a parachute against the cosmic backdrop.

You feel the Doctor's reassuring grip on your waist as he pulls you into his side. Together, you look up, transfixed by the celestial display. The stars twinkle above, and in that moment, you choose to hope and believe that nothing universe-ending has transpired yet.

As the sun ascends on the horizon, casting a warm glow over the scene, the Wrath Warriors stand sternly with the imprisoned Meep, forming an uneasy tableau. You step forward, addressing them with a heavy heart, "Sergeant Zogroth and Constable Zreeg gave their lives, alongside many Earth soldiers."

The Wrath Warrior, resolute in the face of the aftermath, declares, "Their names will be included in the litany of crimes as the Meep atones in prison for 10,000 years." The Meep, defiant in defeat, mutters, "Oh, I will escape and have my revenge. So you beware, Doctor and Stargazer, because there’s one more thing."

With a determined stride, the Doctor moves closer, inquiring, "Which is?"

“A creature with two hearts is such a rare thing. And to have two of your kind here… Just wait till I tell the boss,” the Meep retorts, an ominous promise lingering in the air. The Wrath Warriors and the Meep vanish in a teleportation, leaving a sobering aftermath beneath the morning sun.

The Doctor, caught in contemplation, mumbles under his breath, "Cryptic. I hate that." He takes a deep breath, turning his attention to Donna and Rose with a sense of urgency, "But… we’ve still gotta fix you two. ‘Cause the metacrisis might have slowed down, but that thing is wrapped around your cortex."

Donna, with an eye roll and a knowing nod, quips, “Yes, we know.”

Rose adds confidently, “We know everything, thanks.”

Donna, in her typical nonchalant manner, shrugs, “And you know nothing. It’s a shame you’re not a woman anymore. ‘Cause she’d have understood.”

Rose, crossing her arms, asserts with confidence, “You’ve got all that power, but there is a way to get rid of it. Something a male-presenting Time Lord will never understand.”

Donna, ever pragmatic, advises, “Just let it go.”

The unity between mother and daughter becomes evident as Rose takes Donna’s hand, and together, they release the accumulated metacrisis energy. Shaun interjects with a grin, “Like I said, mate, how lucky am I?”

Rose, with a joyous laugh, concludes, “After all these years, I’m… finally me.”

CAMDEN MARKET, LONDON — MORNING, 2023

Shaun skillfully navigates the vehicle, bringing the group back to Camden Market in London. Earlier, you had informed Shirley about the intention to bid farewell to the Doctor and Donna before returning to headquarters. Shirley responded with a nonchalant, "Sure..." accompanied by a discerning look, rolling away from you in her wheelchair.

The Doctor maintains his characteristic chattiness as he informs Donna, "And UNIT has a splendid insurance policy for damage caused during an alien war. While they sort that out..." Approaching the iconic tall blue police box, the TARDIS, the Doctor gestures towards it, saying, "One last trip?"

"Uh, don’t you dare," Sylvie interjects with a pointed look. Donna, casting puppy eyes at both you and the Doctor, laments, “Do you know, I would love to.” She then takes a sharp inhale, sighs, and adds, “But… I have got adventures of my own, bringing up this one.” Donna points her thumb towards Rose.

“Can I see inside?” Rose asks the Doctor curiously, taking a step toward the TARDIS. Donna, however, swiftly moves her away, cautioning, “No. No! No. No.”

Rose sighs, and Donna playfully waves her finger, “No. Because summat will go wrong, and you’ll end up on Mars with Chaucer and a robot shark. And that’s actually happened, hasn’t it.”

The Doctor gives a sheepish, “Oh, yeah.”

“But I was thinking, we could go and see Wilf?” The Doctor suggests to you and Donna.

Donna then says, “Now that is cheating.”

The Doctor pouts, “Just a suggestion.”

“I mean it, don’t you dare.” Sylvie says, and Donna sighs, “But imagine his face, Mum. Oh, he would be so happy. All those secrets Grandad kept for years. He— He thought I’d never remember. And to see the Doctor. One last time.”

The Doctor and Donna make a puppy face to you and Sylvie, urging you to join them. Sylvie relents and gives in, “Oh, all right. But one trip. That’s all. Just one.”

The Doctor turns to unlock the door with his key while Donna laughs with glee, “One tiny, little trip. That is a promise.”

Donna turns to you and the Doctor and gasps in excitement, “It’s like the old days. Just me, the Doctor, and the Stargazer. Together.” She then turns to her family, “Is that all right?”

“Yeah, of course it is,” Shaun says confidently with a huge smile.

“Well, a lot of husbands would worry. You know, me, in a box, with another man.” Donna jokes, and Shaun shrugs and shakes his head, “Yeah. But not him.”

The Doctor looks somewhat offended, but then Donna shoos him to go inside, “Come on, space man.”

In the quiet aftermath, with Donna entering the TARDIS, the Doctor notices the unsure expression on your face. He whispers to Donna to go ahead, and she complies, leaving the two of you alone, behind the TARDIS, sheltered from prying eyes.

With a gentle gesture, he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. He cups your face with both hands, his smile revealing dimples that carry the weight of countless adventures. “The stars haven’t gone out.”

Your raised brows betray a hint of skepticism, “Yet…”

The Doctor locks eyes with you, his deep dark brown orbs conveying understanding. As tears well up in your eyes, you break the silence, your voice a fragile whisper, “You have no idea how bad it gets. How scared I am that all of this is temporary and I lose you… and I can’t have you.”

“Hey. Hey, hey. None of that,” he reassures, his gaze unwavering. “So far, everything has been leading me back to you. And when the time comes to face it… we’ll fix it… together. I can’t lose you again. Not ever again.”

His words linger in the air, a vow shaped by the quiet resilience of a Time Lord who has navigated countless challenges across time and space. You respond with a nod, sealing the unspoken pact, and tenderly kiss his wrists. In return, he draws you closer, planting a gentle kiss on the top of your head.

“When this is all over,” he declares, “we’re getting married.”

“What?” you screech, caught off guard by the unexpected revelation.

“We've waited this long. I’m not spending the rest of my how many years without you,” the Doctor insists, his eyes earnest.

“Is this a proposal?” you inquire, a mixture of surprise and delight in your voice.

“If you want,” he smirks, playfully nonchalant.

On tiptoe, you reach up to kiss the tip of his nose, a tender acknowledgment, “We'll see.” The promise of an unwritten future hangs in the air, held by the shared understanding that time and space will unfold their stories together.

THE TARDIS

The Doctor guides you inside the TARDIS and closes the door behind him and both of you are in awe of the major changes of the entire TARDIS. Huge curved white walls with round circles that glow with lights and many ramps that lead to different corridors.

The Doctor hangs his coat on one of the railings as he grins and laughs, “Whoa!” He begins to run around all the ramps with the energy of a little kid as he shouts, “This is amazing!”

“It changed! Oh, you clever thing! Look at that!” The Doctor laughs as he finishes his lap around the new interior of the TARDIS. He runs over to the console and smiles, “It’s got this!”

He pushes a lever forward, and the lights within the TARDIS shift to a vibrant orange, casting a warm glow. Your gaze is drawn upward in awe as the ambient hum of the time machine resonates around you. Running your fingers along the railings, you can feel the TARDIS responding, and you affectionately murmur, “Hello, sweet thing. I missed you too.”

Amid the luminous atmosphere, the Doctor darts around the console, engaging with switches and buttons on the refurbished device. Donna, observing the transformation, remarks, “It’s still a bit nippy.”

The Doctor protests, “Oh, come on!”

Undeterred, Donna concedes with a grin, “All right…” Her expression changes as she admires the surroundings, “It’s gorgeous!” Laughter bubbles up from both Donna and the Doctor, who joins in the jubilation, bouncing excitedly.

“It’s cleaner. And it’s grown,” Donna observes, her laughter echoing through the TARDIS.

Making your way to the console, you overhear Donna questioning the Doctor, “But I— I still don’t get it. I mean, the TARDIS can change all right. But what about your face? Why did it come back?”

“Does there have to be a reason?” the Doctor muses, and Donna, with a snort, retorts, “In your life? Yes!”

With a nonchalant shrug, the Doctor remarks, “Well, I’m stuck with it now.” He continues exploring the console, fidgeting with excitement, and comments, “Oh, this thing is brilliant. It’s even got a coffee machine!” Glancing at you and Donna, he inquires, “You want one?”

You shake your head, “No, thank you, darling.”

“You’re kidding,” Donna says with wide eyes.

“With cold milk, yeah?” The Doctor deftly presses a few buttons, and Donna, smiling, says, “Well remembered.” To your delight, a white cup materializes with coffee and cold milk.

He carefully hands the cup of coffee to Donna who says, “Thank you very much. Careful. It’s how I lost my job. Dropped a coffee in the computer.”

To which the Doctor just hums and moves to flick a few more switches around the console as you lean on a railing, to listen to him say, “I really do remember, though. Every second with you. I’m so glad you’re back ‘cause it killed me, Donna.” The Doctor clicks another switch as he continues on, “It killed me, it killed me, it killed me.”

"We can have more days, can’t we?" Donna inquires, her tone laced with a mix of hope and curiosity. Her eyes reflect a desire for a future filled with shared moments. Continuing with optimism, she suggests, "I mean, why is it such a big goodbye with you? Why is it one last trip? ‘Cause you could visit. With my family."

The Doctor, absorbed in examining a screw, listens attentively as Donna paints a vivid picture of ordinary yet precious moments. "We could do outrageous things, like have tea, dinner, and a laugh! And Rose’s school play. Well, maybe not that. She can’t act. She’s terrible. I don’t know how to tell her. But the point is, you’ve been given a second chance. You can do things differently this time."

Encouraging him to embrace change, Donna suggests, "So why don’t you do something completely new and have some friends?"

The Doctor contemplates the idea, responding with a hesitant "Maybe. Yeah." Donna chuckles, savoring the simplicity of their current moment. "Mmm. Like now," she remarks, lifting her cup as if to toast. "Here we are. Having a coffee."

Before the Doctor can respond, Donna's accidental spillage disrupts the calm, eliciting a gasp from her. "What’s gonna go wrong—" Her sentence is abruptly cut off as the spilled coffee interacts with the TARDIS console, resulting in sparks and flames.

With urgency, Donna questions, "What’s happening?" The Doctor, swift in his actions, ushers both you and Donna away from the unfolding chaos. The TARDIS groans and whines as its engines protest, and the cloister bell rings ominously in the background.

"We could end up anywhere in time and space," the Doctor confesses, a tinge of uncertainty in his voice. As the atmosphere fills with anticipation, you brace yourself, thinking, "Here we go again."

TAGLIST:

#14th doctor #14th doctor x reader #14th doctor x fem!reader #fourteenth doctor #ethereal writes #doctor who 60th anniversary #60th anniversary #catherine tate #doctor who special #david tennant #14th doctor x fem reader #doctor who x reader #donna noble #doctor who

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protege-not-protagonist · 4 months

Text

Criminal Minds: The Protégé Chapter 11

Ch 11: The Mountain King- Pt. 4

Blurb: While still anxious to call her friend and check in on him, Grace updates the team on the findings of the autopsy and helps provide more information to try find the identity of the victims. Grace is then tasked with conducting a laborious search of the archives. She is paired up to room with JJ for the first time since joining the BAU. During which, JJ observes some concerning behaviour from the youngest member of the team and can't help but reflect on her own experience joining the BAU at such a young age.

Masterlist

Previous Chapter

Audience: 16+ mature audience for depictions of violence and sexual references

Author's Note: if you see a trigger warning that concerns you, you can scroll to end and I'll have a brief description what happens. And how to read around it. TW: violence, crime scene depiction, This case mentions sexual assault (as previous chapters), slight body horror, mentions sexual assault of a child (only mentions), also mention of drugs

Central Police Station, Harrisburg, PA, 7:20 PM

The team gathered round a monitor as JJ linked the conference with Garcia. Grace checked her watch. 7:20, enough time to eat and clean up at the hotel before 9:00pm. She’d been thinking about the phone call all day. The reminder had been sitting at the back of her mind and on the notifications tab of her phone since the morning; don’t forget to call 9:00pm. What was wrong? What had happened? She hoped he was okay. What was she going to say? She couldn’t prepare something if she didn’t know what it was.

A chime sounded as their current call connected, and Garcia smiled at them.

‘Hello, my fine furry friends, please tell me you’re closer to catching this guy?’ Her hot pink fluffy pen drew Grace’s attention like a laser point as she twirled it around her fingers.

‘Possibly,’ Rossi told her and folded his arms, ‘We have an area narrowed down, and maybe, if some history buffs have done the Lord’s work, there could be a map of a mine he could be using, but chances are slim. Can you see if you can find anything online about abandoned mines in the area, check spelunking forums and blogs. I doubt it will turn up anything, but we need to be prepared. This unsub knows the terrain. We don’t want to be caught off guard. Did the phrase I sent you turn up anything?’

Phrase? Grace frowned. Had she missed something? Her head swung between Rossi and the other team members present.

‘Bumpkis.’ Garcia said with frustration laced through her tone. ‘It doesn’t seem to reference anything directly, closest matches I can get are about hobbit hole themed Air B&Bs, wrong kind of trip with friends.’

It was then Grace remembered she had been late to the briefing.

‘What phrase?’ She whispered to Simmons next to her.

‘The unsub called from the woods to the first victim’s friend, used a strange phrase.’ Simmons turned to her and smiled warmly, but she didn’t feel any comfort from it, only guilt.

It was not Simmons’ fault at all. He had never shown her anything to suggest he held any grudge or ill feelings afterwards. She tried to tell herself Simmons had forgiven her, that it wasn’t her fault. But it didn’t change what she felt and what had happened. Things had been awkward between them ever since she had failed him so dismally. He had been the first person on the team to besides Rossi to trust her so implicitly, and she let him down. To label the feeling as awkward was an understatement.

Simmons continued in a whisper to her, ‘It was a very theatrical way of saying come find your friend. We thought it might be from a movie or play.’

Grace furrowed her brow. ‘What did he say-‘

‘Grace has some more identifying features for the victims.’ Rossi interrupted.

‘Oh, yes.’ Grace looked up and turned back to the screen, remembering the notebook she held in her hand. She thumbed through her notes.

Garcia’s hands hovered above her keyboard and she grinned at her. ‘Hit me, Gracie baby.’

She short circuited. Unsure if it was being called “Gracie” for the first time or “baby” for the first time. Probably the latter.

‘I uh, yeah… Um, have some notes from the bodies.’ She stuttered. ‘Can you add this to the victims’ descriptions, then cross reference and distribute this on NamUs? These are things only friends and family would know and look for. Also look at registered hikers for the trail. All victims, except Hope, had a fair bit of muscle on their legs and were in good health. Very healthy lungs too, used to elevation. I think they were experienced hikers. Women register their hikes more than men do and have regular checkpoints. It’s been a few days now. If Three and Four registered, they would have missed a check point by now, see if there’s anyone who’s missing.’

Dr Lewis moved to the whiteboard and posed ready to write the features under the victimology part of the board.

‘To add to our profiles, Three and Four were experienced hikers, active they both have watch tans. But the watches weren’t on the bodies when they were found. The tan lines indicate a thicker band, 20 mm band, 450 mm watch face. Most women’s dress watches have an 18 mm band and a 350 mm face. So most probably they had a digital sport watch or an active smart watch.’ A thought suddenly hit her. ‘Actually, Garcia, see if you can get in touch with Garmin.’

‘The GPS company?’ Rossi questioned.

‘They make smart watches now too,’ Simmons added, seeing where she was going with this.

‘Yeah, a few of their models are in the dimensions we’re looking for. They are quite popular with hikers because of the GPS SOS system. Also, they have challenges their users can undertake. One of them is the Appalachian trail. Users have profiles they can share with family friends or personal trainers to track their progress and send SOS alerts to with a geotag. See if you can get them to hand over user data of SOS signals in this area, and any users who haven’t been transmitting data for a few days in the area.’

‘I can do you a bit better than get in touch with them,’ Garcia Smirked. Grace grimaced. She was not going to tell Avery that Garcia could access his logged data from his Zumba classes. ‘I’m in. User data is encrypted, though. I miss the days where no one knew what they were doing on the Internet. I’ll try a few tricks, see if I can decrypt some of it and find our victims.’

‘Good work,’ Rossi nodded along. ‘What about victim Two? She is the one we have nothing on.’

Grace had been even more determined to find anything to help them identify Two. She had spent almost an hour hovering over the lifeless woman. Double checking the reports, rerunning the finger prints. Taking her time to examine each part of her. She could not leave until she had something to add to the profile. To Grace, there was no fate sadder than sitting in a labelled box with only a number for a name.

‘Victim Two was also athletic, like the others good lungs, healthy, muscled legs. But victim Two played a violin… or viola. Regularly,’ Grace pointed. ‘Their Infraspinatus on the left side is over developed and there’s superficial elevation of the clavicle. Only strings will do that. Tennis comes close, but the muscles on the ventral side will develop as well. Also, her fingertips on the left side are calloused, further confirming that she is a string player, and probably professional or regularly. They are also right-handed.’

‘You can tell handedness on a body?’ Simmons asked, staring at the photos in front of him.

‘They have more skin creases on their right wrist. A person’s dominate wrist will have an extra crease lower and fainter than the ones on the non-dominate wrist. This crease is from writing by hand. Annoyingly, the younger people’s creases are less prominent. But Victim Two definitely wrote a lot. She was a musician, wrote a lot by hand and was outdoorsy.’ She said and her face fell. ‘She must have been creative.’

Grace watched as every person in the room stared at their wrists, rotating them and flexing them experimentally, and continued. ‘The autopsy report noted a surgery scar across the abdomen. I can tell you they had an appendectomy, ye-olde-style, probably cause she didn’t have enough mass for keyhole surgery. That should help. Keyhole is way more popular these days. So having the old style full open surgery is rare,’ Grace watched as Garcia finished typing, then curiously flicked her gaze to the underside of her wrists.

‘Moving on to the unsub’s weapon of choice. Pretty standard woodcutter’s axe. 4 and half inch blade. Unsub is on the upper-side of average strength. Also right handed, taking an average of 4 hacks to decapitate the victims. Hope and Two were attacked from behind while they were sitting or kneeling. Didn’t see the attack coming. Three and Four were incapacitated or dead before dismemberment,’ Grace relayed and shut her notebook.

‘You done? I did not need to hear that.’ Garcia took her fingers out of her ears while Dr Lewis scribed it on the case board. Simmons was twisting and subtle swinging his arm while looking at the photographs, trying to understand how Grace had got all that from just looking at the body.

The truth was, she couldn’t really explain it. It was just what she was good at. It was how her brain had combined her ADHD given skill for pattern recognition, her hyper-focus on morbid topics and her childhood trauma to produce a defence mechanism. It had made her seem physic to some, given her a reliable gut instinct to keep her safe, and made her the best forensic analyst the FBI had. But it was also what kept her up at night. It was also what made socialising a struggle. What acted like a barrier between herself and normalcy. It was what made joining the FBI the only way she could be praised for her skill rather than further ostracised.

There was a rap on the door and Detective garner poked his head in. ‘Good evening, this a good time? I made the inquiries with the historical society.’

‘Come in,’ Rossi waved him through. ‘What did you find?’

‘Well, the historical society can confirm they have surveys and intelligence data archived. No one could recall tunnels being part of the collection, but then again, it is not the most researched area, but you’re in luck they said they have them digitalised.’ He reported.

Garcia beamed, ‘Excellent, just provide me access and I’ll get my program running through those records like a knife through butter.’

‘Unfortunately…’ the detective sighed. ‘Digital doesn't mean online.’

‘Oh no,’ Grace groaned, already familiar with the way archivist like to store things “digitally.”

‘It’s Microfiche, isn’t it?’

‘Afraid so.’ The detective sighed.

‘What’s micro fish?’ JJ asked, looking at Garcia. Their brightly dressed friend only shrugged.

‘It a type of film reel.’ Grace grimaced.

Everyone turned to Rossi.

He held up his hands. ‘Hey, you know more than me, Gracie.’ She frowned at the second use of that nickname as Rossi continued on. ‘Back in the day, the admin staff would put Gideon and I’s case files on it, but I never actually used it or saw it. If we needed old files, we got the secretary or junior agents to prep them.’

‘I heard of my colleagues using it in college for old records of case studies, but I avoided it. I went for more modern cases.’ Lewis shrugged.

Alvez and Simmons shrugged.

‘How is it that I, Gen Z, am the only one who is familiar with Microfiche? You all should have encountered it at college, especially in the 90s!’

‘Never went to college,’ Simmons, Luke and Rossi said in unison.

Then how did they get into the FBI? Grace wondered. It was a requirement that you have at least a bachelor-or equivalent law enforcement or military experience. Military, that would be why. Lewis and JJ probably studied, but did not have to research like she did. Dr Reid probably had used Microfiche. Too bad he wasn’t here.

‘Well, it's film. Tiny film where documents are photographed, one page per frame on a continuous reel of film. If they say it’s available digitally, my guess is you don't have to use a view scope, and they have a film wizard.’

Her team still looked lost.

‘It reads the film and connects it to a computer, where you can extract the document though a screen capture and turn them in to PDFs. It’s used for newspapers usually. Like three years of a newspaper’s issues will be saved on one roll of a compact film. You have to go through it by hand. You can't control f.’

‘Well, guess Five-O’s volunteered to go fiche-ing.’ Alvez said. Rossi nodded, and the team’s heads turned to her.

‘Great,’ she groaned. ‘I didn’t need sleep, anyway.’

---------

Fairway Hotel, Harrisburg, PA, 8:12 PM

After getting the archive’s address from the detective, JJ had been paired up to share a car and room with Grace. They had gone back to the hotel to check in and have a quick meal before she drove Grace to the archives. Now she was unpacking a few of her things, plugging in her phone charger and sitting in silence, taking the time to rest. It was the first time she and Grace had been partnered up to share a room. It was insightful. It was the first time she had seen Grace perform her ‘ritual.’

Prentiss and Tara had mentioned it briefly, said that technically they all should do it, so there was no point in trying to convince her it wasn’t necessary. Apparently, she had always done it, even before the Robinson’s case, so they weren’t particularly concerned that it was an anxious compulsion. JJ had watched curiously as Grace swept the room with a RF-detector, checked every cupboard, mirror and painting meticulously, even shining her phone touch into every vent. JJ wondered why, after all the cases she had been on that she didn’t do those things. She also asked Grace why as she checked the locks, hinges and peep hole. Grace only shrugged and simply said it helped her sleep.

Now with Grace in the bathroom freshening up, JJ eyed the bright blue Squishmellow creature, silk eye mask, waffle cotton PJs out on Grace’s bed and noise cancelling ear buds, melatonin gummies and crossword puzzle book on the bed-side table. Firstly, she wondered how the Squishmellow had fit in her go bag. Secondly, she felt guilty. Guilty for not knowing her young colleague was suffering so much from insomnia and what seemed like anxiety. Guilty for not taking her seriously when she requested to have a couch seat on the plane. Guilty for not seeing her jokes about not needing sleep as simply that, jokes.

And JJ had tried to show she did care. Grace was young. And from her own experience, JJ knew Grace was probably too young to be in the BAU. JJ worried about her a lot, she worried about her in the way she wished someone had worried about her and Spencer. But every attempt JJ made to get closer to Grace had only resulted in establishing more distance between them.

JJ liked Grace. She was a brilliant agent, young and energetic. She had her quirks and was shy and reticent, but damn, could she read people. She may not have been the best at interacting with people, but she could observe a conversation and tell you exactly what each person had been thinking. Grace was one of the best natural born profilers this team had ever seen. They all knew it from her first trial case. JJ remembered sitting at the round table, preparing to be disappointed by the new probationary agent, raising an eyebrow at the preppy-looking forensic officer, who raised her hand and waited for permission to talk. She also remembered all skepticism of Rossi’s recommendation, leave her as this 23-year-old took one look at the crime scene photos and produced a profile that was so specific it shaved days off the investigation.

In many ways, Grace was like Spence. But also, in many ways, she was completely different. JJ missed her best friend, and she recognised that part of feeling distant from Grace was because she was looking for something to supplement the genius shaped hole Spencer’s resignation had brought into her life. It was good, in a way. Healthy. They had needed to distance themselves after the whole… situation. But the thing that JJ couldn’t understand was why she got the sense that Grace didn’t like her. Not that Grace was rude, unkind, or acted in any way that would imply that she disliked her. It was more the way Grace acted with other members of the team that gave her an inclination that Grace was uncomfortable around her specifically, well also Simmons, but after the Robinson’s case that was understandable.

JJ heard the tap run in the bathroom briefly and then suddenly there was a hacking cough and gaging sound from Grace. JJ turned her head. But the retching sound and heavy breaths did not stop. A groan of discomfort creaked out from the room. JJ stood up and knock on the door.

‘Matthews, you okay in there?’ she asked, pressing an ear to the door. She heard the quiet gasps and sniffles, like the sound her children made when they had thrown up.

‘Uh… Fine…’ Grace coughed hoarsely. JJ heard the shifting of Grace’s body slumping against a wall and onto the floor.

‘Grace let me in. Are you okay?’ JJ tried the handle, locked. ‘I’m fine, just swallowed some water the wrong way…’ she stuttered out and JJ could hear her laboured breathing through the thin wall. ‘Sorry, I panicked, just trying to calm down. I’m fine… just give me a minute.’

JJ was torn. She felt like kicking the door down, but at the same time she could hear Grace’s breathing slow down, like she was calming down. Like she really had just choked and panicked. The Mom in her needed to be in that room.

‘You need anything?’ she asked.

‘No.’ Grace coughed out.

‘What about for tonight, at the archive, food? Coffee?’ JJ asked ear to the door still.

‘Uh, a carton of diet coke, and enough Ritalin to kill a blue whale.’ Grace called back. There was a shuffling sound, and then the doorknob rattled.

JJ stepped back as the door swung open and examined Grace from head to toe. ‘What’s Ritalin?’

‘Oh… uh it’s um… Meth. A type of it. It was a joke, you know? Like to keep me awake to do the job.’ Grace explained. Her eyes were bloodshot, and her nose was red, face slightly patchy, like she had been crying.

‘Sure you’re good?’

‘Yeah. Nothing, just… what choking on your own spit and having a coughing fit does to you, you know?’

‘Okay, well let’s get some dinner into you on the way archives. You didn’t seem too taken with the room service options. Do you want McDonald’s or Dairy Queen?’

‘Neither of those are dinner foods.’ Grace said and grabbed her canvas messenger bag and checked her watch. ‘But the Dairy Queen is more convenient. It’s on the way.’

‘But you told Alvez the other day you favourite is the Fillet-o-fish.’ JJ pointed out.

Grace stopped in the doorway, giving her a surprised look and nodding. ‘It is. But McDonalds means we would need to detour, 6 extra turns.’ She looked back at her watch again.

‘You’re not in a rush to spend a night in front of a computer scrolling through miles of film, right?’ JJ smiled at her. ‘We’ll get you a fillet-o-fish.’ Grace’s mouth opened a little in shock and she nodded. ‘And a large Diet coke.’ JJ added, fishing the car keys from her pocket.

‘Thanks, JJ.’ Grace offered her a small smile, and they headed out to the car together.

---------

Civil War Memorial Museum Archives, Harrisburg, PA, 9:01 PM

She stared at the phone for a second longer as one minute ticked over, and she hit “call”. She placed the phone on speaker next to her and turned back to the computer screen and hit fast forward on the film reader. Black and white documents with overly exaggerated cursive scrolled across the screen as the dial tone rang.

After the fourth ring, the phone crackled.

‘Hey?’ she greeted.

‘Hey.’ Harrison answered. Immediately, she could detect the tiredness in his voice. It usually was so energetic.

‘Oh no, what happened?’ she asked. Glancing at the black phone screen and then back to the computer. Still not the documents she was looking for.

Harrison sighed heavily. ‘It was a rough day, you?’

‘It's a rough case.’ She said.

‘So you’re still working? Now?’ He asked.

‘Yeah, but I can talk.’ Grace assured him. ‘I'm trawling through Microfiche. Pun not intended.’

‘Watch out for mircosharks.’ He said with a slight lightness, chuckling to himself.

She snorted. ‘That was more terrible than usual. What happened?’

‘A lot.’ He sighed heavily again. ‘Emma was at my sister’s apartment this morning, figured out where I was staying now. She was crying and said she was sorry, that she regrets it.’

Grace’s face soured. Emma. Narscistsic-controlling-ex-girlfriend Emma. She tried to keep a neutral tone. ‘Oh? Are you-do you feel safe?’

‘Don't worry, I told her to shove it.’ Harrison said.

She laughed. ‘I would’ve paid good money to see that.’

‘I mean, I was more polite about it than that,’ he admitted.

‘Boo!’ she commentated, then hesitated, was that going too far? ‘I’m kidding.’ She clarified. ‘Are you okay?’

‘I don't know.’ There was a shakiness in his voice now. ‘I haven't had time to think about it, really… I just-It was…’ He trailed off and let out a quiet sob. ‘I've had an awful day at work, Grace… It was awful.’

Grace stopped scrolling through the film and cradled the phone in her hand as if she could send her comforting touch through the phone. ‘Do you want to tell me about it?’

‘I don't want to load you up with more than you need right now, if you’re having a rough case-‘

‘-Every case is rough. Did one of your patients die?’ She asked.

‘No. Today… we had to do a kit. Oh Grace, I… we shouldn’t have to do them on anybody, but in paeds… I never thought-‘ He sobbed.

A tear pricked her own eye as she heard him cry. That was an awful day. She didn’t know what to say. She swallowed.

‘Oh Harri I’m so sorry.’ She voiced, trying to send her urge to wrap her arms around him through the phone.

‘I don’t know if I can sleep tonight. The things that man did to her… She cried when I asked her what colour cast she wanted for her leg. She was terrified by my voice and I… cried. God, I’m crying right now. I’m so angry. And…I want to make it better, but there is nothing I can do. I can't even walk in the room without scaring her. They assigned me elsewhere in the ward since, but I just can't stop thinking about… Why? I… can't even… She was 8, Grace. How could someone do that to her? She’s 8 years old!’ His voice cracked.

Anger filled her too. Anger because it happened, anger because her friend was crying. Anger because it was so senseless. She opened and closed her mouth a few times before she found words.

‘You will never understand, Harri, because people who do that are so far gone, even people like me who study those people struggle to understand. It's evil, and it is senseless. Do they at least know who did it?’ she tried to steer the conversation more positively.

‘Yeah, he’s in jail and I’m trying to focus on that, but I just can't get my mind off it, you know?’

‘I struggle with that too, keeping my mind off things.’ She told him. As soon as the admission left her mouth, Groton’s golf course flared in her mind. Images flooded her view and throbbed in her skull. She shut her eyes and shook them out. She couldn’t focus on that, not now. Not when she had taken her meds. She couldn’t get stuck on the wrong thing.

‘What do you do?’ Harrison’s voice called to her.

‘Pardon?’ she asked, even though she had heard him.

‘How do you keep your mind off it? How do you move on?’

She wet her lips and sighed. ‘I guess I do what I can. I do my job, do it well. Go to therapy, talk, do things that keep me busy and happy, create things, remind myself there's good people in the world.’ She imagined him sitting at his sister’s kitchen table, still in his colourful scrubs, probably the Ninja Turtles ones, nursing a coffee cup running his fingers through his ruddy brown hair. She pictured herself next to him, holding his hand. She smiled sadly. ‘Good people, ones who cry because they can’t care for her without scaring her, and are angry that such an awful thing would happen. Good People who care enough to ask a little girl what colour cast they’d prefer. People like you. It’s the small things Harri. Your small good each day, fights tooth and nail to chip away at a whole lot of bad. Your small good. Focus on that.’ She then thought of the way she spent most of her evenings at home. ‘Also children's television and movies. That’s my go to. Because good always prevails in those worlds, it might not be realistic, but it’s cathartic. Got a list I can recommend if you’d like?’

‘Actually, that's why I was hoping you weren't away tonight.’ He said, but there was something in his tone, a hesitancy. She sat waiting for him to continue. He took a few seconds. ‘I, uh, wanted to ask if you wanted to have a movie night at… my place, or yours.’ There was a beat of silence before he scrambled again with his words, ‘That's only if you’re comfortable. I didn't want to say at a theatre in case you weren't ready after the whole… Incident. But I get it if asking is crossing a line.’

Her mind raced. Thoughts crashed against her skull and her fears blared like claxons. Her mouth opened and, ‘I don't know,’ stumbled out.

‘What kind of I don't know?’ he pressed.

Please don’t make me explain, her mind begged. She put the phone done to distance herself from him. She stared at the caller ID and tensed her body in an effort to slow down her mind before her mouth betrayed her. Thank God she had managed to actually take her meds before this.

‘I want to, but I don't know if we should.’ She answered diplomatically. ‘Going to each other’s houses is a bit of a step… it's a bit intimate.’

‘I know the way we met was not an ideal situation but, come on, G, we call and text each other like every second day, we send pictures of weird things we see to each other with no context, we do the Wordle, we debrief with each other. I’m not kidding when I said I'd wait by the phone. Your calls make my day.’ He said what she already knew, but then he really hit the nail on the head with his next words. ‘I think if we are honest with ourselves, we are already past what is an FBI approved relationship.’

‘Appropriate relations with a victim.’ She corrected in panic. ‘Harrison, I feel it too, but what happened to us, specifically, what she did to us, was to make us artificially foster a sense of closeness. That bond, what we feel, it's not really… real. We don't really know each other as well as we feel we do. We need to distance ourselves from what we felt at the time so we can form an uninfluenced relationship.’

You hypocrite, her own mind sneered at her.

‘I know, I know, because of the transference, right? G, I get it. But 6 months of pretending like it didn’t happen, it’s killing me. Calls during lunch breaks from work, conversing only in Wordle scores, walking along the harbour front at night? Aren’t you tired of it? It feels like we’re cold war spies, and not in a good way.’

There was a lot to unpack in that, but her mind clung to one thing. ‘I-I thought you liked National Harbour?’

‘Oh no G, I do! I do. I love the harbour.’ He reassured her. ‘I just want a chance to talk like normal people, you know? Take you out to the movies, have dinner together, hang at each other’s houses. We’re not strangers, but when we meet up, it feels like we pretend we are. It’s like you don't want to be there, or like you feel you're not supposed to. But you were a victim too. You didn’t investigate that case, so I doubt there is a protocol for that. Look, all I’m saying is you said what we feel is not real, that it’s transference or whatever, but I feel it, so it’s real to me. Why can't we make it real, Grace?’

Oh no. This is it. This is where it fell apart, where it ended, where she would lose him. Friendship was good. She learned that friendship was safe. The next thing, though, she could never go there. That was when people would find out that she wasn’t worth it. That was when people wouldn’t want her anymore.

‘Harri,’ she took a breath and tried not to cry. ‘I really don't know. Don't take this the wrong way but I think you’re in an emotionally vulnerable state right now, that case at work today probably didn't do you good and probably brought up some thoughts about Cooper… and you have ended things with Emma, the girl you would previously go home to and… talk with, wind down with… and now you’re looking for that kind of connection, looking for a new… partner. And I'm sorry Harri, I think you're great but I'm not ready for that kind of relationship and I think if you're honest with yourself you aren't either and you could do far better than me-‘

‘-Woah, woah no!’ he stopped her.

‘No?’ she questioned.

‘Grace, I'm not looking for a rebound girl!’

‘A what?’ she frowned.

‘Nevermind. I meant all that platonically. You’re my friend right, even if it's kinda weird?’ he stammered.

‘Oh? Yes. I would consider us weird friends…’ she nodded along in confusion.

‘No wonder you were bringing out your professional tone.’ He laughed nervously. ‘I’m Sorry I wasn't clear, that did kinda sound a bit-‘

‘-No, sorry, I misread that. It’s hard over the phone. I don’t have your expressions to go off.’ She scrambled.

Harrison continued to ramble, ‘No, no, that’s my fault, I said stuff like it feel real to me… and stuff, I meant our friendship-I see how that sounded like I had caught feelings-‘

‘Oh no, it’s my mistake,’ she apologised. ‘I-I thought movies and dinner were like a thing couples do.’

‘Oh Grace, I'm a simple man. If I wanted to ask you on a date, I would. I wouldn't try to trick you into it.’ He chuckled. She breathed a sigh of relief. ‘I mean yeah, couples do that, but so do friends G.’ He paused. ‘Wait, have you never done those things with a friend before?’

‘Um… funny story about that.’ She admitted nervously and scrolled through the film again. Feeling safe to divert her attention from him again.

‘Oh Grace,’ he said with pity.

‘I’ve never really had many friends my age.’ She explained with a shrug. There were a few beats of silence again, but they were comfortable now.

‘So…’ he said, clearing the air. ‘Is that a yes to the movie? To just being “weird friends” hanging out.’

She thought for a moment. Six months? Was that enough time to have been in a friendship to invite someone to your house? Penelope had invited her to her apartment after about 4 months. Rossi let her come over for pasta night with the team after her first month. Simmons had trusted her enough to babysit after two… She supposed it was.

‘You know what, once we wrap up this case, sure. We can do it at your place, but I get to pick the movie,’ she agreed and found herself smiling. ‘This time.’

‘This time?’ he asked with a curious tone.

‘Well, I figure, since we are both going to have bad days, and you feel walks around National Harbour are impersonal, sounds like something we are going to do more than once,’ she explained, her eyes still flicking over the pages of documents scrolling across the screen.

He chuckled, ‘We are going to have to work out a roster.’

‘Harrison, you know I don’t stick to schedules very well.’

‘Says the girl with like 700 alarms on her phone.’ He laughed.

She giggled. ‘Actually, I’ve found that my phone won’t let me have more than fifty, soo… a lot less than 700.’

Documents scrolled past and her eyes skimmed over the dates and locations as the reel ran out. She sighed and flicked the rewind button. The machine whirled. She unboxed the next lot of film labelled, ‘Pt. G. T. Kayne - Diaries cira 1859-1861’

‘How are you? Sorry I didn’t ask about your day yet, did I?’

She perked up. ‘Oh, no. That’s fine. I’m okay, I’m actually in Harrisburg Pennsylvania, going through civil war archives now, in other circumstances I’d be enjoying myself but, not right now, I’m in for a long night.’

‘Is it a rough case?’ he probed

‘Kind of, we’ve got a lot of missing pieces right now, missing IDs. That’s what rough.’

‘Oh.’ He said, comprehending exactly what that meant for her. ‘I’m sorry to hear that. You okay?’

‘Yeah, I was able to give some extra features to Penelope, so hopefully she can turn up some faces.’

‘Oh my God, they don’t have faces?’ He gasped.

‘No! I-They do just uh.’ She winced. Well, he wasn’t wrong. ‘They do… we just haven’t been able to-‘ She cut herself off before she said anything that would disturb him further, ‘I was saying it as an expression.’

‘Well, now you’re looking into it, I’m sure they won’t be faceless for long.’ Harrison reassured her.

She smiled at the compliment. ‘I hope so. But, yeah, there are a few odd things in this case we haven’t been able to get our heads around. We are focusing on what we know, but there have been some things that aren’t adding up, the profile isn’t coming together like it should,’ She loaded the next roll of film onto the reader and packaged the old one back up, sliding into a pile with other reels she had determined were administrative correspondence.

‘What kind of things?’ He asked, then added, ‘It’s okay if you don’t want to tell me.’

‘I don’t actually know. That’s the thing. I’m looking at this abrasion and I can’t tell what the unsub was trying to achieve. He is evolving his M.O, but I don’t know why or really how. The guy is a proper A-grade weirdo, Harri.’

‘Wow, and that’s an FBI profiler’s official opinion?’

Grace looked at the piles she had made on the table of the different categories of documents she had come across, and a thought stuck her. There was correspondence, payrolls, orders, reports and surveys, all where different aspects of Military Intelligence. Her whole life, she worked to separate things from a whole. To her most thing where related eventually, that’s why she was constantly being reminded to keep things relevant on topic. But what if now the problem was that she had separated things to where she couldn’t see them as related? When she examined a body, it was dead; therefore, her deductions were based in a criminal and forensic context. But, Harrison saw similar horrors, occasionally, but while someone was alive, in a health and medicine context.

‘Harri, before you worked Paeds, you were ER, right?’ she tested the waters, hoping he would be comfortable enough to answer a difficult question.

‘Yeah, worst year of my life,’ he snorted. ‘Why?’

She cringed internally, preparing for him to hang up in disgust. ‘Did you get a lot of-how do I put this? Bedroom Accidents?’

‘Too Many. G, you wouldn't believe the things people do in the boudoir.’ He said enthusiastically. ‘Why do you ask- actually just remembered your working so the less I know the better.’

‘I won’t scar you with details, but you might be able to help me. We’ve encountered something none of us have seen before. It seems like it has a sexual element to it, but I don’t know. We’ve never seen a serial killer do it before, but maybe some people do it consensually as a kink, maybe? But it could easily go wrong, so it’s likely someone’s gone to hospital for it.’

‘Sure, I was only in ER for a year, I might not be that helpful, but if I’ve heard of it, I’ll tell you.’ He waited for her to gather her words patiently.

'Have you ever seen anything to do with a catheter or externally filling a bladder?’ She asked.

‘Eugh.’ He grimaced. ‘Me personally no, but someone told me about Human Carafes back in college, I’ve only heard of it in an unbelievable story a class mate tells, you know, like a “I heard that there’s a secret sociality of crazy rich doctors with a god complex and each year they host a dinner party and make everyone sign an NDA cause they all have an orgy and human carafes.” I don’t know how it would turn anyone on. It’s more pseudo sexual, like a power display thing… to my ears anyway, is that the kinda thing you’re looking at?’

God complex? Pseudo sexual power display? Sounded exactly like something that could feature in this unsub’s M.O.

‘Human Carafes is not something I’m familiar with and I don’t want to google that. Can you talk me through what that is?

‘Hang on, just let get behind some closed doors, cause Liza is frowning at me cause I said orgy.’ There was some shuffling and a muffled voice, but she couldn’t make anything out. Then Harrison replied, ‘Well, I don’t complain about having to listen to your filthy, Scottish Historical Drama while I eat… Yes it is Grace… NO!… okay fine I’ll tell her…’ Harrison bickered with his sister. ‘My sister says hi, by the way. I need to move out.’ He chuckled, and she heard him shut a door. ‘So I’m guessing the victims are having it done to them? Are they male?’

She raised an eyebrow, momentarily stopping her scrolling. ‘No, our victims’s are female.’

‘Huh, that is weird. Probably not the same kinda kink cause it’s usually a thing done to males cause of the… you know… the appendage.’ He trailed off.

‘Harri, sorry you’re going to have to be a bit more specific, or clinical. Believe it or not, I do know what a penis is.’ She chuckled. There was a moment of silence. Oh no, I’ve freaked him out. She panicked, ‘I mean, you don’t have to, if you’re not comfortab-‘

‘Do I want to distract myself from an awful day and evil people with stupid, disgusting medical anecdotes? Absolutely.’ He told her with a lighter tone in his voice. He then laughed a little, ‘Sorry I was just trying to get over the fact that you said penis so causally.’ he giggled.

‘Oh, grow up,’ she snickered.

He took a long sigh before he began. ‘Okay, so let me preference this with two words. Gnarly UTI.’

‘That's technically four words, but my interest is peaked.’ She smiled and listen to him as she scrolled through another three reels of film.

-----------

Fairway Hotel, Harrisburg, PA, 9:10 PM

JJ poured the mixture of the crushed up tablet and solution into the three test receptacles of the standard pill testing kit and averted her gaze, staring at the ceiling.

‘Please…’ she sighed. ‘Please don’t let any of them be positive.’

She peaked back down and her face fell. A bright pink indicator at stared back at her.

She tore her eyes away, afraid to look at the label that would identify the four white tablets that sat ominously on the bathroom counter. She wasn’t supposed to find them. It had been an accident. While plugging in her hairdryer, she had knocked Grace’s bath bag to the floor and a few things had fallen out. That was all. She hadn’t meant to snoop, but as she repacked the scattered items back into the bag, she had picked up a tin of lip gloss and it rattled.

Pills. JJ knew the sound instantly. Pills that were loose and concealed. If Grace hadn’t of been cagey about what had happened in the bathroom earlier that night, JJ wouldn‘t have thought twice, but it wasn’t just the ‘coughing fit’ that had her worried lately.

JJ glanced at the positive indicator and gasped.

Amphetamines.

JJ ran a hand through her hair in distress. It was Hankle all over again. And JJ could not believe she had let it happened, again. They should have known Grace passed the psych evaluations too easily afterwards. She should have suspected after the nightmare on the plane. They should have known; there were warning signs littered around everywhere. Grace’s quietness about the Robinson’s case, her insomnia, joking about taking drugs… Just like she joked about her sleep. Now it made sense why Grace wasn’t sleeping. She was avoiding the nightmares about Robinson’s case by taking amphetamines to stay awake.

JJ didn’t know what to do.

If she told Emily, that would put Emily in a compromising position and Grace could be fired and then who knows what would happen; she could spiral and get worse. But if she did nothing… well, she already had seen what pretending to be ignorant had done. It had worked out fine in the end, but she had many regrets, and she was sure Reid did too. JJ concluded she had to confront Grace. How she was going to do that she didn’t know. Maybe she could ask for Reid’s advice. But for now, while they were on a case, all she could do was keep a close eye on the youngest member of their team.

‘Why Grace?’ she asked herself. ‘Why are you doing this to yourself?’

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Just to be clear, Grace is NOT on drugs. See TW drugs.

Next Chapter

Taglist: @bridgeoverstrawberryfields @pleasantwitchgarden @cultish-corner

Sorry this took so long, again. What did you think of Harrison? I will explain the Robison's case, I swear. it is coming soon. There will be a flash back case. I will soon redesign the master list so it will be a bit less busy and organise the chapter's in to "Episodes" this will involve a title card for each chapter and the first and last title cards will have quotes to mirror the show's format. so you might want to check out the new title card when I update the fics over the next few days :)

If you love this story or even just like it, leave a comment, like, reblog, ask a question with Character Mail, will be posting some prompt for this soon so keep your eyes peeled. Any interaction is much appreciated and it really motivates me. Love you guys.

if you want to be added to taglist please comment on this post.

TWs:

Sexual assault, Necrophilia : I will try not to be graphic at all in this story, this chapter just has it mentioned as part of what the unsub does

Slight body horror : I will try not to be graphic here, but in autopsy it is found that unsub fills Bladders externally with a injection. then found that it injures the victim to a point where they bleed. Again not going to describe that more than I have too.

Drugs: If you’re not familiar with ADHD meds, you might not know, but they are in the amphetamine family, and in your run-of-the-mill drug test come up false positive. JJ doesn’t know about Grace’s diagnosis, and she is reacting from her experience with the Hankle and Reid’s addiction because of it. The reality is Grace has an interesting relationship with her medication, which will be explored later along with JJ and Grace’s dynamic. but just know JJ is wrong, and Grace is not taking her medication to stay awake, she simply took her medication here because she was worried about not being able to focus because files are boring.

mentions sexual assault of a child: Harrison, Grace's friend and love interest is a nurse in a children's ward is distraught talking about his day on the phone because he had to treat a young patient who was hospitalised from a sexual assault. He asks Grace for advice on how to deal with the knowledge of such awful things happening.

#spencer reid #BAU #criminal minds #oc #mentor spencer #spencer gets a happy ending #the protege #OC Grace Matthews #fanfic #my fic #criminal minds case #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds fanfiction #the protege chapter 11 #ch 11 #JJ #jennifer jareau

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