#the simultaneous pull of levers on the console

[tardxsblues]

-Oh, to hell with the last hurrah. Let's keep going.

-It's a big change of heart.

-Yeah, they happen.

-Seriously?

-Look, as long as you get me home safe and on time, everything is great.

[doctenwho]

Gestures and Evasion

Hello! Welcome to a new DT fic! My deepest apologies that it’s been so long, and thank you so much for waiting so patiently! Life’s been a bit of a rollercoaster recently, and I’ve needed a bit to recuperate, but I’m back again!

This prompt didn’t have a specific character mentioned, but luckily, since it wasn’t anonymous, I was able to shoot pistachoz a DM and they’ve confirmed it’s a Tenth Doctor request! :D

Warning: None, I don’t think?

Word Count: 3,514

Summary: Check out the prompt above! :)

(Gif doesn’t belong to me, credit to the creator! :D)

The Doctor doesn’t really remember the first small act he’d committed to try and get his companion to notice him. To notice him on a... well, on a more personal level?

It’s a general memory, nothing pinpointed, but he knows it happened long ago.

It was something small—mundane. (Y/N) had more or less brushed the gesture off with a light laugh and a smile that made his hearts hammer away in his chest, but (Y/N) had really seen if for what it had been.

It wasn’t very often that the Doctor had these sort of feeling about anything, but there was just something special about (Y/N). Something he couldn’t put his finger on.  

He’d been trying for just about as long as the companion had been travelling with him to send little messages, or gestures in hopes that maybe (Y/N) would see what he was doing for what it was instead of brushing it off like she tended to do.

If he’s honest, he’s never really had this kind of problem before. He’s had many companions, and more often than not, those companions tend to want more from him than he’s willing to allow himself to give. Rose, and Martha—Jack, even—they were all looking for more from him, and being what he is, and what he does, it’s not that simple to reciprocate feelings.  

They’ll all age and eventually die, whereas he’ll just move on to his next bout of regeneration with a broken heart he’ll have to try his hardest to keep under wraps.  

The Doctor knows that maybe (Y/N) showing such little interest in him is almost a good thing. Less heartbreak down the road when (Y/N) decides not to accompany him any longer, or, worse, when old age takes (Y/N) away like every other human before her. It’s inevitable, and he really should have a stronger hold on human life compared to TimeLord life, but the loss always knocks him down for a while.

It should be a good thing, but he just can’t seem to bring himself around to believing that it’s a good thing. Not when every time (Y/N) brushes off a gesture he’s thought over, and put time and effort into, it fills his hearts with an unfamiliar pain he hasn’t felt since losing his family and Gallifrey alike.  

It had taken him a while to notice he was even trying to win (Y/N) in a sort of courtship way. And it had taken even longer to realize he’d been doing it for about as long as he’d known (Y/N). It hadn’t seemed like it at the time, but looking back now, he can see how all the little comments and gestures were more than just friendly.  

But she’d been brushing his attempts off since early in their travels. Shooting him a smile, but turning away when anything too even the slightest romantic turn. Avoiding his eyes when he stared fondly, or laughing it off when a compliment slipped past his lips.

He really didn’t understand it.  

He could see the Gallifreyan romantic gestures confusing (Y/N), but the few earth gestures he’d picked up barely stirred anymore of a reaction than the Gallifreyan ones. He didn’t know where he was going wrong—how it was all being perceived the way it was. The wrong way. He wasn’t getting the reactions he wanted and... well, it hurt.  

Both his pride, and his hearts.  

It had started small with flowers—or, a flower. They were on a foreign planet, but he knew giving small gifts like a flower was one of the human gestures. So, he’d searched around while his companion was busy exploring, and located the loveliest flower he could find. It was mixtures of blues and purples; native to the planet but incredibly rare considering they only bloomed twice a year, for no longer that three days at a time.  

The flower had a sweet smell; one similar to those of sweets from earth. For a while, before he’d remembered Earth didn’t have this specific species of flower, nor were they advanced enough in space travel to find one, he’d assumed they’d used the attractive scent of the flower as a marketing technique to sell their sweets.  

The sugary smell Earth sweets had would always come second to the scent of this specific flower.  

The exchange had been short, and less than pleasurable if the Doctor’s honest. He’d found (Y/N) sitting on the ground, just taking the calming atmosphere of the planet. His heart stuttered in his chest before he finally took those last few steps towards her, where he settled at her side and cleared his throat to gain her attention.  

He’d held the flower out, rambling out facts as (Y/N) took the flower into her hands. She gave it a sniff, and fiddled with the stem and petals for a second before smiling down at it. She stared down at it, before looking back at him with an appreciative smile. He’d thought he’d won her over, but instead, she settled the flower on the ground beside her.  

His hearts had cracked as his companion’s hand fell away from the flower, leaving it on the ground as she returned her attention to the world around her. He’d swallowed thickly before sitting himself beside her, not bothering to mention the fact his gesture had gone unnoticed.

It was the same ordeal when he’d ordered (Y/N) a space delicacy from one of his favorite planets, where his companion had taken the treat into her hands and tasted it without a second thought. Smiling down at the treat, before shooting him light smile as she licked her lips.

He didn’t know why he’d been expecting—hoping for—anything more than the usual ‘Thank you’ he always received when he did something out of the ordinary for his companion, but the mumbled words had filled his with a sense of sadness.  

It was silly.  

But he kept trying.

The gestures just kept coming. It was barely a forethought anymore. An unconscious effort to try and win over his companion—seeking this relationship (Y/N) quite obviously didn’t want. It was a sad downward spiral, but he really couldn’t imagine not trying to woo her. He’d been at it for so long, not trying sounded foreign.

He tried just about anything he could to get any sort of reaction. Any hint that his companion knew what he was trying to do. Any acknowledgment that she understood that he was trying. He’d prefer blatant rejection to this... whatever this evasive attitude (Y/N) was expressing.  

Dinner in the stars.

Unique gifts from distant planets.

Various treats and snacks from wherever they happened to be.

He even tried to learn more about human things on earth. How humans went about stuff like this, and how it all differed from his Gallifreyan roots. Human courting was quite the oddity.  

He didn’t talk to many humans who weren’t his companions, or people he’d saved in some way or another, but the man who ran one of the shops had taken some time to educate him, but the Doctor had come out of that conversation more confused than he’d gone in.  

But on the bright side, (Y/N) had enjoyed the bag of sweets he’d awkwardly bought to stand at the register and chat with the friendly shopkeeper.  

He was still at a loss. Nothing seemed to be working. Nothing wooed his companion. He didn’t understand—couldn't see how not one single thing he’d tried had gotten (Y/N)’s attention.

But he still had one more thing up his sleeve.  

“Where are we going?” (Y/N) asked cautiously from the seat in the console room. The Doctor was doing his usual laps around the TARDIS console to what should be six TimeLord’s jobs simultaneously. He’d gotten good at it over the years, but there was still, occasionally, some rough kickbacks when he couldn’t be everywhere at once.

“It’s a surprise,” the man shot his companion a grin, pulling a lever. At this point, (Y/N) should be used to the surprises. He never got the kinds of reactions he was looking for, but he was still hoping that... maybe sometime he would. That something he planned would be the special one that could win his companion over.

(Y/N) didn’t reply, but continued to watch the Doctor how around the TARDIS like a madman.  

They weren’t far from the next greatest surprise the man had planned. They’d been travelling a little under an hour, and (Y/N) had only joined him in the console room ten-ish minutes prior, but he’d still refused to tell her where they were heading.  

(Y/N) was still quiet when the Doctor stabilized his space and time machine, checking everything twice before finally tugging his companion up by the hand and leading her towards the doors.  

He threw the doors open, grinning widely as he gazed around. Just as promised.  

It was a phenomenon really. A collection of heart shaped carbon monoxide ice chunks. No one was quite sure how they’d been formed, or whether someone had carved the hearts and left them to float in this tiny orbital pull in the middle of nowhere.  

It was a sight few saw—the Doctor had only heard of this place from chatter on a nearby planet, but he had to admit it was just as beautiful as he’d imagined. The ice glistened as the light casted from the TARDIS hit it, making them twinkle just as brightly as the stars in the background.

It was about as romantic as you could get.  

“Woah,” (Y/N) gaped at his side, and the Doctor turned to look, smile slowly lighting up his face as he watched his companion’s eyes travel from heart to heart. “What... what is this?”

“It’s carbon monoxide ice,” the Doctor informed softly, the smile on his face widening as his hearts thrummed in his chest. His companion had an astonished look on her face, eyes wide with childlike curiosity. “Like that of Mars in your solar system. No one’s really sure how they take shape but... well, they’re quite the sight.”

“It’s beautiful,” (Y/N) breathed out, almost like her breath was taken away by the sight.  

The Doctor had been told by many, had seen for himself as beauty takes away people’s breath. He’d been there too, once or twice with his current companion.  

He barely even caught his words as they left his mouth—his heart speaking before his brain had a chance to filter his words, “Like you.”

That was his moment of error, the Doctor noticed.

He frowned to himself as his companion slowly pulled themself away, shying away from his side and retreating back into the TARDIS with one last lingering glance at the ice. The Doctor’s hearts froze within his chest, as he watched uncertainly—unsure just how he’d managed to mess this one up as well.  

“It’s late,” (Y/N) muttered softly before leaving the Doctor alone in the TARDIS doorway, the man’s gaze locked on one lone heart with a barely noticeable crack down the center. It wouldn’t be long before the orbit around them pulled the frail pieces apart, severing the heart into two.  

The TimeLord forced a breath, squeezing his eyes shut for just a moment as he resided completely with the cracked heart.

He didn’t understand.  

The clumps of frozen carbon monoxide made his hearts hurt the longer he stared, so he was quick to follow on his companion’s footsteps, spinning on his heels and shuffling back inside, making sure to shut the doors behind him.

He wanted to flee this place, this failed attempt, but he couldn’t bring himself around to flying the TARDIS at the moment. He didn’t have the energy too. Like expected, (Y/N) had disappeared into the TARDIS, so the Doctor plopped heavily down on the seat.  

Maybe it was time to accept the fact that his companion did not reciprocate his feelings. That he was barking up the wrong tree. He’d thought that they were... but maybe he was wrong.  

The Doctor stared up at the TARDIS ceiling, his space and time machine giving a little hum as if she could feel his worries and mood. His hand patted the back of his seat halfheartedly as a promise that he was okay.  

It had never been this hard with any other companion. There was just something so special about (Y/N). Something he wanted to get closer too, even though he knew he’d end up hurt in the end. Something he wasn’t sure he’d ever get now.  

Maybe it was time to settle this once and for all. His gestures were overlooked, or, maybe even ignored. As much as it hurt to admit, (Y/N) didn’t seem very enthused with anything he’d done. Maybe it was the human not understanding what he was trying to do—but humans tended to like words.

--

The Doctor from (Y/N) in her room, perched on the edge of her bed. (Y/N)’s attention raised when the Doctor announced his arrival with a sturdy knock on the slivered-open door. The knock pushed the door in enough for the Doctor to poke his head in.  

“Do you, uh, have a moment?” He asked cautiously, almost ready for the rejection he’d been living with for the better part of travelling with (Y/N). He’d grown used to it, but it still tugged at his heart strings. She’d never deny him conversation, but he could still see and feel her pulling away from him.  

“Of course,” (Y/N) sat up a little more, giving the Doctor her full attention. “What’s the matter?”

He hadn’t thought this far ahead, the Doctor realizes as he shifts from foot to foot in (Y/N)’s doorway, mind vacant of any thoughts. (Y/N) tilted her head at the Doctor’s odd silence, studying him from her spot, “Doctor...? Are you okay?”

“Yes,” the man cleared his throat. Then did so a second time before continuing, “I wanted to, uhm, know what you thought about the, uh,” he gestured broadly behind him, hoping his companion could piece his question together.

“The ice hearts?”

It was a good thing his companion was so clever.

“Yes, the hearts.” The Doctor nods, fingers tapping awkwardly against his side. “Did you... did you like them?”

“They were beautiful,” (Y/N) repeated once again, fidgeting with her own fingers, “it was a bit unexpected, but... yeah, I did. Thanks for showing me them.”

The man gave a nod, but didn’t voice anything. If he thought his voice would’ve come out naturally instead of the anxious waver he was sure would be there, he definitely would’ve replied with a soft ‘My pleasure,’ because it really was his pleasure to introduce (Y/N) to the beauty of the galaxy.  

There was an unsettling moment of silence where neither really knew what to say.  

It was the Doctor who broke it, staring at his shoes as he finally allowed the words he’d been stewing over out, “do you... not like me, (Y/N)?”

“What?” the surprise was prominent. The word rang out for a second before the Doctor lifted his gaze to settled on (Y/N)’s shocked, tense frame. Her muscles were stiff, body sitting up straighter and more alert than she had been when he’d first asked to talk. “I like you plenty,” (Y/N) assured quickly, “what gave you the idea I didn’t?”

There was a list, really. He could count things off on his fingers, but he wasn't here to be petty. The man bit his lip, leaning against the doorframe to support his weight. He honestly just wanted to know why (Y/N) was so evasive every time he so much as tried to woo her.  

“You... well, uh, you never seem to care,” he made sure to word it carefully, “I... I’m not sure if you even notice, or ignore it, or what. I just, I need you to be honest with me. Why haven’t you... reciprocated any feelings?”

“I’m not sure what you mean, Doctor,” (Y/N)’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, and one ankle crossed over the other as she leaned forwards in interest.

“Since I met you,” the Doctor swallowed, “I’ve been... I don’t know how to say it but, trying to court you, I suppose? That’s not really something humans do, but it is something TimeLords do. It’s just that... every attempt I’ve made... every try I’ve made to do something cute, or romantic, you brush it off. You’re evasive, and... I’d just like to know if that’s because you don’t reciprocate my feelings. If you don’t feel the same, we can just put this all behind us.”

“It’s not like that,” (Y/N)’s voice was quiet, a near whisper, “please don’t think it’s because I don’t like you. I do, Doctor. I just... I wasn’t sure.”

“Weren’t sure?” The man furrowed his eyebrows, “sure about what?”

“I didn’t want to risk our friendship. I noticed everything, the flower you gave me, the sweets. All the dinners, and the... the dates. Today with the ice hearts even. I didn’t know how to admit I liked you when there was a chance you didn’t like me back the same way. I don’t know what I’d do if I ruined this.”

“But the gestures and dates?” the Doctor frowned, finally stepping into (Y/N)’s room and sitting on the edge of her bed beside her. He’d thought he was being obvious.

“Very obvious,” his companion let out a little laugh, “and I should’ve known, but I was scared. You’re the best thing that’s happened to me. This adventure is a once in a lifetime opportunity, and I didn’t want to compromise that by admitting my feelings.”

He could understand that, a bit. “So... you do like me too?”

“Of course,” (Y/N)’s smile was soft, “a lot, Doctor. I just... didn’t know how to reciprocate it without there being a possibility that everything could fall through, and we’d ruin our relationship in the process. I know you were offering it, but I was nervous. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” the Doctor chastised quietly. He paused for a second before speaking again, “I’m having a hard time believing this is real,” he admitted with a tilt of his head, “you really acknowledged it all? I... never noticed.”

“Yeah,” (Y/N) smiled softly, “and I have proof it wasn’t all in vain, Doctor.” (Y/N) stood up from her spot on the bed, and moved towards her book shelf. It housed a few books, and some trinkets she’d found on their travels and liked. She continued speaking as she searched through the books, “I really enjoyed everything you put together for me since I met you. I wasn’t sure you were really doing it all to be romantic at first but... the hearts today really summed that up for me.”

The man watched as she tugged on one of the book’s spines, pulling it from the shelve and holding it in her hands for a second before she waving to retake her seat. She started flipping through the pages, so the Doctor leaned over her shoulder to watch.  

“Here,” she stopped on a page towards the middle of the book. The Doctor refrained from gaping as his companion carefully pulled that singular flower he’d given her all that time ago from the book. The room was instantly filled with that sweet, alluring scent and his hand shook as he took the pressed flower into his fingers by the delicate stem.

“I thought you left this,” he admitted softly, studying the vibrant colours that had stayed even after being pressed into the book. He hadn’t noticed her bringing the flower back. Had really thought she’d left it on that planet and ignored the gesture entirely.  

“I couldn’t,” his companion sighed, “it was selfish, even if I didn’t want to ruin what we had, I wanted to keep it to remember the moment. To remember you, even if we did at some point part ways.”

“You’re brilliant,” the Doctor breathed out, finally passing the flower back like it was as precious as a crown jewel or something. “So incredibly brilliant, (Y/N).”

(Y/N)’s cheeks flushed and she ducked her head away from his gaze, but it was different than the usual brushing away of his gestures. Something was different now.  

They hadn’t cleared it all up, that was for sure. He still had questions, and she still had doubts. They didn’t quite understand each other yet, but it hadn’t all been in vain like he’d thought. She’d seen it all. Acknowledged it, even if not to him. His hearts swelled as he smiled lightly.

There was still a lot they needed to discuss, but for right now, the Doctor just wanted to spend a bit of time with his companion—without all the hassle of their rightful doubts and insecurities.

“Do you think we could... spend a little while longer looking out at the frozen carbon monoxide outside before we leave? It really is quite pretty, and... maybe we can talk about this more later?”

“I’d... love that, Doctor.”

“Good. Uh, great,” he cleared his throat, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. His companion giggled at him, but he didn’t mind in the slightest, “allons-y, (Y/N).”

<><><><>

Once again, sorry this took so long! I’m hoping to keep this momentum going and keep getting out the requests in waiting! I hope you all liked this fic, it was a bunch of fun to write! I thoroughly enjoyed creating the frozen carbon monoxide hearts, so I hope you all liked that as well!

As always, feel free to prompt me again if this wasn’t what you were looking for (though it might take a while to get around to it if you do!) and thanks once more for requesting. Hoping everyone had a good morning/day/night!

[no-droids]

A Show of Good Faith

Part Six of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 7.1k what i fuckin tell yall

Warnings: SMUT, rough sex, dirty talk, creampie, canon-typical violence, slight description of blood/injury

***

Isn’t it weird that nobody really ever talks about what happens immediately after you have a dead body in front of you?

It’s the part leading up to it that’s usually the most crucial, obviously.  The adrenaline of the actual moment is overwhelming—you react without thinking, danger pumping through your veins alongside your blood and sharpening your survival instincts until they’re deadly.  You do what you have to do to stay alive, nothing more.  So it’s not really until you have a still moment with the evidence of your actions right there in front of you, glassy-eyed and staring lifelessly up at the ceiling, that you suddenly don’t know what to do.

Shocking is a word.

Debilitating is another.

Things… things come in flashes.  You have blood on your hands; it’s thick and cold and electric blue in color, not dark or warm or crimson.  One of them is vibrating violently, clutched around something heavy and clunky and unfamiliar, something with a handle made to fit a six-fingered grip.  The kid is passed out in your other arm after expelling all his energy helping you take down the brutal assailant, choking him with… with some unknown baby shaman toad powers and holding him in place so you could grab this knife and you could… and you could…

The body of the man you just stabbed lays in a bloody pile on the floor in front of you.  It was self-defense, but the reasoning behind it doesn’t take anything away from the gore, the blank state of shock rendering you motionless for Maker knows how long.

Corellia is a fucking shithole, you knew that coming in.  If it was a sewer even with the Empire’s shipbuilding industry boosting the economy, it’s even worse after its collapse.  To circumvent any unnecessary danger or attention, you chose to land the ship in one of the dense forest areas on the outskirts of the tracking fob’s radius.  But unluckily for you, rats like forests just as much as they like sewers, and one of them apparently crawled his way onto the vessel a few minutes ago.

You drop the vibroblade to the floor with a clatter and slide down the hull wall, clutching the baby to your chest and trying to calm your breathing.  There could be more of his friends close by.  What you should do is climb into the cockpit and find somewhere else to lay low, send Mando a coded message with word of your new location.

But there’s a dead body in front of you.

And it’s… it’s dead.

Strangely, you default to something you’ve never actually done before.  Something you probably shouldn’t ever do, in case your companion is in stealth mode or trying to hide from something, because it’ll immediately give away his position.  You could theoretically get him killed, but you’re not thinking straight.

Your wrist trembles as you hold it in front of your lips.  “Uh… M-Man-Mando?”

The sound of blaster fire and grunting crackles through your emergency comm link, before you hear a quick, breathless, “What’s wrong?” come through the speaker.

“It, uh—” you stare down at the oddly-colored blood on your fingers, wondering how you voice is able to come out so calmly, “it s-sounds like you’re busy, I’ll—I’ll just—”

More grunting.  A thud.  “Tell me what’s wrong.”

You’re at a loss for words.  You take a second to look down at the dead body, before lifting your wrist back up to your mouth.  “I’m o-okay now, but I… but someone followed me into the Crest and he tried to… I-I mean he’s—he’s dead now, but—”

“Are you hurt?”  He suddenly sounds urgent.  It’s ridiculous that he didn’t actually sound urgent until now.  “Is the kid hurt?”

“We’re—we’re both fine, but…”  You look down at the child in your arms.  “But the baby did something I—I c-can’t explain—and now he’s… I-I think he's asleep…”

“Good,” he replies shortly.  You can hear him running now, pounding footsteps and heavy, quick breaths.  Another blaster shot.  “We need to get out of here.  Rendezvous Sector-15, soon as you can.  You’ll see me.”

“Do I…”  Maker, you sound like an absolute idiot.  “Do I just… just leave the body here, or…?”

“I’ll take care of it when you get here.”  He doesn’t sound frustrated with you, but for some reason you feel incredibly frustrated with yourself.  You should be able to pull yourself together, but your hands are all tingly and you can’t actually feel your fingers unless you really work for it.  Stars, when’s the last time you actually blinked?  “Can you fly?”  

You don’t respond.  You don’t even feel like you can stand up right now.  The blaster shots scream through the crackling comm link for a second, and then you jump when he barks your name even louder than the gunfire.

“—Listen to me,” he urges, and you blink rapidly, the seriousness of his low growl hitting you right in the chest.  “You can fly.  Understand?  Get the kid, get in the cockpit, put your seatbelt on.  Fly out to me, right now.  We’re leaving.”

His voice doesn’t call for argument.  It’s abrasive and rough and unquestionable enough to get through to you.  Of course you can fly, you can fly with your fucking eyes closed.  Coming that firmly and doubtlessly from him, it’s a universal truth.

“Copy.  Sec-Sector-15.”  You say, adrenaline beginning to pump blood through your veins again.  Just.  Just don’t look at the body, okay?  Don’t look at the body, you can do this if you don’t look at the body.  “I’ll see you?”

“You’ll see me,” he repeats.  And then the noise cuts off with a click.

You struggle up to your feet, heart pounding.  You can do this.  You can totally do this.  You can walk, because you can fly.  Duh.  Mando said so.

You admittedly almost fall a couple steps down the latter while trying to climb up it one-handed, the baby held tightly to your chest, but you’re eventually able to get the both of you into the cockpit.  The kid is carefully buckled into his little booster seat before you’re collapsing shakily into the pilot’s chair and swiveling forward.

Okay.  Flight check.  Now.  To your left, flip down these few switches here—one two three four five—okay, good.  To your right, press those two buttons sitting just above the nav console.  Yep, got it.  Up top now, those two red ones overhead.  Good.  Good, you can do this.  Type coordinates into the nav comp.  Sector-15, locked.  Easy.  This is easy.  That big, knobless lever to your right—yes, the one with the exposed threading at the end, push that long metal stick forward and set thrusters to full.  Okay.  Left thruster, looks good.  Right looks good, too.  Okay.  Seatbelt… seatbelt is… Seatbelt: on.  Hatch: sealed.  Shields: engaged.  Flight check complete.  Now all you have to do is take off.

Now all you have to do is take off.

All you have to do… is…

You stare down at the joystick in front of you blankly.

And then you shake your head back and forth frantically, hoping the rapid movement will jar some sense into you.  Maker, get it the fuck together.  What did Mando hire you for?  You told him you were useful, didn’t you?  This is what you do.  You fly.  So fucking fly, yeah?

You lift the ship off the ground and immediately take her around southeast, taking deep breaths and feeling the powerful rumble beneath your chair.  Yeah, you can do this.  Don’t think about the blood on your hands, the dark streaks of sickly purple now smudged all over the controls.  Don’t think about the dead body in the hull.  Don’t think about how you’re the reason it’s dead.  Just fly the ship.  This is something you can do.

You coast over the thick treetops and into the industrial sector, carefully scanning the gritty streets below.  You don’t know what he meant when he said you’ll see him—until you suddenly see him.  Smack in the middle of the airspace, rising phoenix strapped to his back and hovering a few hundred feet above absolute chaos wreaking havoc in the slums below.  Blaster flares light up the night sky, though the sparks and flash grenades illuminating the dirty Corellian streets have nothing on the beauty of seeing those small twin jets in the darkness, the ones beginning to fly towards the ship.

“Got eyes,” his voice says through the comm link.  Relief pounds through you.  Stars, relief shouldn’t feel like this much of a struggle for your cardiovascular system, should it?

“Beginning deceleration,” you confirm breathlessly, slowing down and pressing a few buttons to open the hatch with your free hand.  You bring both of them back down to swing her around until he’s got a clear path, feeling the ship dip just slightly with the sudden weight of him dropping in.

“Landed,” he grunts.  “Set course for Nevarro.”

You floor it and elevate the Crest up through Corellia’s smoggy atmosphere, punching in coordinates in the meantime.  The ship dips just a touch once more while the computer takes a few seconds to calculate a hyperspace path, and your eyebrows narrow before it quickly pulls back up again.  It’s not until you see the manual hatch override indicator light blink next to the nav console that you realize he must’ve dumped the body before closing the door himself.

Well, that’s one way to handle that, you suppose.

The computer beeps quietly when it’s finished.  “Standby for jump,” you tell your wrist.

“Copy.”

You triple-check the positive seal integrity readings before your hand is reaching for the double-reinforced hyperjump control, still trembling slightly.  You lean all your weight forward into it, trying to keep your arm from buckling as the stars slowly shift across the observation shield for a split second, before you’re being hurled into the interdimensional wormhole.

Quiet.  Hyperspace is fucking quiet.  You forget, sometimes.  Not how quiet it is—but how loud everything else is, not until you’re hurtling through the closest thing to purgatory you’ll ever experience in life.  It looks… indescribable, even after the thousandth time.  Empty space collapsing in front of you and expanding behind you simultaneously.  Starlight streaking across the windows, space-time curving around the ship faster than the ship itself is moving through it.  You take a moment to consider it as you unbuckle yourself shakily, before standing up and checking the seat behind you.

The kid is still knocked out cold, but you press the button to close the shield to his crib just in case, setting an alarm protocol to Mando’s remote arm brace should it open.  

And then you slowly make your way around bulky cockpit chairs and down into the hull, shakily climbing down the ladder one step at a time.  As soon as you turn around, there’s a caped wall of beskar rummaging through something with his back to you.

“Did you…”  You announce yourself while looking around, trying not to sound as small as you feel.  This is a such stupid question, you already know what he did with the body.  But you… you should make sure, right?  “You already took care of… of the…”

“Yeah.”  Mando spins around and pulls out the cot from the wall at the same time, and you jump when the bed rattles loudly on its track and ricochets a few inches backwards after reaching its full extension.  He quickly makes his way around it and over to you.  “It’s gone.  Come here, you’re hurt.”

“I’m f-fine,” you insist, feeling your hands shake when he abruptly grabs the left one and turns it over, pulling your wrist out towards him and up to the light so you both can see.  “What about the qua—oh.”

There’s a long, ragged slice decorating the inside of your forearm, dried blood staining the ripped fabric along your sleeve.  You blink down at it, not able to recognize its pain even with the evidence of the injury in front of you.  It doesn’t look deep, but its edges are a little nasty and it’s still bleeding.  Why can’t you feel it?  Shouldn’t you be able to feel that?

He makes a noise through his helmet—something you can’t quite figure it out.  Something between a short growl and a low huff of breath, before he’s grabbing your hips and steering you over towards the bed, lifting you up and setting you on its suspended platform when you’re close enough.

“Didn’t find the quarry,” the Mandalorian says quietly, turning around and looking through the first aid kit once more.

“You didn’t find the…”  You blink down at your injury.  He didn’t even find the quarry?  But then what was all that ruckus about?  And why are you going back to Nevarro to collect payment?  Shouldn’t you be turning around and… and…?

He’s suddenly in front of you again, and this time he’s got a… a syringe in his hands?  An E-bacta shot, you realize with an uncomfortable jolt.  He pulls the cap off and sets it down on the bed next to you before holding out his gloved hand for you, waiting patiently but expectantly.

“No,” you immediately tell him, heart beginning to pump faster as you bring your arm up and hug it to your chest.  You didn’t even know those things were street legal—they heal incredibly quickly but people have been known to abuse them because… well, because they’re supposed to give you a wicked fucking high.  Bacta isn’t addictive and there’s no possibility of overdose, but this shit is concentrated.  You can’t imagine how expensive it was.  “Don’t b-be ridiculous, Mando—you—you almost bled out from a knife wound and we didn’t use one of those.”

“What do you think that is?”  He looks down at your arm.

“It’s a scratch!”  You exclaim, starting to feel a bit hysterical now from the adrenaline comedown.  Maker, that needle is big.  You knew bacta injections were thick but holy fucking stars.  “It doesn’t even h-hurt!  I could’ve… I could’ve done this to myself on accident for all I—”

“This has boosted antibiotics, too,” he cuts you off, quickly losing his patience and grabbing your wrist when you still don’t hand it over to him.  He levers your forearm down, holding it parallel to the floor on your lap.  “We don’t have any bacta kits left, I looked.  This’ll work fast and it won’t scar.  Hold still.”

“No—” you try to pull your hand away, hating the way your voice jumps when you’re aiming for calm and reasonable.  “—I’ll be fine, w-we shouldn’t waste th—”

He tightens his grip.  “Listen.  This isn’t a scratch.  It’s a torn laceration from a dirty Corellian vibroblade.  Now I’m giving you at least a quarter dose, so hold,” he tugs your wrist forward, “still.”

You see the large needle heading towards your arm with determination and you’re instantly going rigid with panic, whipping your head away from him and squeezing your eyes shut as you suck in a terrified breath.

You wait like a statue for the pain, frozen in anticipation and fright, but it never comes.  Slowly peeking one eye open, you look back to find a chrome visor staring intently at you, unmoving.

“I’m—I’m sorry,” you eventually gasp when he doesn’t say anything, and Maker, are your eyes actually starting to water?  “I-I’m sorry, I’m just—that’s a b-big needle and—and I actually just k-k-killed someone and it’s just—” oh stars, here come the sniffles, “—I’m s-so sorry, I’m trying t-to keep it—keep it togeth—”

He carefully places the syringe down on the bed next to you as you turn your head away from him and try to stifle your short, panicked breaths with the back of your hand.  But then you’re being caught and pulled forward, hauled into an iron chest without a single word.

It should be uncomfortable, you think.  You should want to take the armor off and feel the muscles of his arms wrap themselves tight around you instead of cold metal, but for some reason, you don’t.  He feels… right like this.  Like the beskar is a natural extension of his body, like it holds just as much comfort as his bare chest does.

The Mandalorian stands there between your knees and silently embraces you, holding stoic and steady for you, tilting his head so you can calm your breathing into the crook of his neck.  It’s covered in fabric but it smells like him, warm and soft and damp with sweat.  You breathe him in, clutching him tight with your uninjured arm and feeling your heartbeat gradually begin to slow as it’s pressed against cool metal.

“E-bacta has calming properties,” he says quietly after a moment.  “It’ll help more than this.”

“Shut up.”  You mutter against his throat, doing everything you can to drown yourself in him.  Maker, he smells good.  He just got finished bringing down an entire Corellian sector, why the fuck does he smell so good?  “I'm not—not letting you stick that thing in me.”

“Yeah?”  He returns softly, dragging a hand up your back.  “Bet I can make you want it.”

“Not happening,” you grunt, tightening your hold on him.  “You’ll put regular bandages on my arm until we can resupply on Nevarro and save that torture device for another poor soul who needs it.”

“This isn’t over,” he eventually warns you, gently pulling away.  He turns around and starts picking out gauze and tape from the first aid kit regardless.  “I was just blindsided.  Tears don’t work on me, but.  Don’t ever do that to me again.”

You relax, smiley and dopey-eyed and happily sticking your arm out for him for whenever he comes back, so fucking glad he gave in.  You’ll get bacta on Nevarro, that sounds perfect.  “So… so all that fuss and you didn’t actually find the quarry?”

“Someone tried to take off my helmet,” Mando replies shortly, starting to rip open a few packets of sterile gauze strips without looking at you.  And then he doesn’t say anything more, like that should be explanation enough.

“Ah.”  You remark after a second, thinking about how many blaster fires you saw.  Maker.  “I see.”

What a pair you two make.  Someone who went into shock from hurting another person in defense of your life, and someone who brought an entire block down because another person tried to take his helmet off.  

Something he’s done with you twice now.  Without ever being prompted.

Stars, you’re both so different, aren’t you?  Such massively different problems, different ways of life.  You’re suddenly struck with how much you could learn from him, if he was ever willing to share.  How much the both of you could probably learn from each other.  His assertiveness; your humanity.  His decisiveness; your consideration.  His secrets; your honesty.  None of them are true opposites, not in the way people normally think.  They’re not polarizing, they’re… complimentary.  Filling in the gaps neither one of you can fill in yourself.

“Does that scare you?”  He finally asks, when you’ve been quiet for too long.

“No,” you tell him blankly, watching his hands work.  “Just… no.  Not really.  I mean.  It makes sense.  Was just thinking about how different life must be for you.”  You tilt your head thoughtfully.  “Showing my face, telling people my name.  Things I take for granted, I think.”

Maker, maybe you’re getting a little too honest here.

“Is that why you never ask about those things?”  He’s quiet.  You both stare purposefully down at your arm as he begins laying down the strips of white cotton over your cut.  “Because you recognize what it means to give them up?”

“What—like your name?”

“Anything,” he says, and though he keeps working, his hands start to slow down.  “You never ask me about anything.  My name, my past… why I don’t take the helmet off.  Everyone always asks, but.  You never have.”

You shrug a shoulder.  “Figured you get tired of telling people no, don’t you?”

His fingers still, hovering over your injury.  He doesn’t move, so you elaborate.

“I mean… yeah, I’ve thought about those things, but…” you speak slowly, choosing your words very carefully.  Your eyes narrow with the effort, trying to pinpoint and voice your exact opinion without making assumptions.  “But I respect you.  And your creed.  I call you Mando because that’s what you told me to call you.  And if you don’t take the helmet off, then you don’t take it off.”  You shrug once more.  “Some things don’t need explanations.  They just are, and I’m okay with that.”

It’s a while before he goes back to dressing your wound, and even longer before he speaks again.  When he does, he’s almost completely finished securing the bandages and it’s barely above a murmur.  “Nobody usually thinks that simply about it.”

“Well.  Fuck ‘em.”  You blurt.  “I think it’s the simplest thing in the galaxy.  You should be the one who gets to decide who you are and what’s important to you, right?  No one else.”

He stops again, this time tilting his visor up to look you in your eyes.  You blink up at your own warped reflection.

“I think that shit is yours.  Fundamentally.  Doesn’t matter if you want to share it, change it, hide it, or burn it away forever.  It’s your decision, and you’ll tell people what you want them to know.  So fuck ‘em if they don’t respect that,” you tell him bluntly.  “They obviously don’t know anything about you at all.  Else they wouldn’t be asking.”

He doesn’t move.  He just stares silently at you for a few seconds, and Maker, for some reason you wish now more than ever you could see his face.  Even though it contradicts everything you just said, you wish you could see his face.  What color are his eyes?  You bet they’re brown.  You bet they’re a warm, deep brown—expressive and soft and lovely behind such hard, unforgiving steel.  His features are probably just as warm as the rest of him.  Dark hair, wavy hair.  Plush, gentle lips.

His hand comes up slowly.  Gives you ample time to pull away before he’s softly cupping your cheek, tilting his helmet to the side as he studies you.

“Would you.”  He’s quiet for a moment.  And then he clears his throat through the modulator, before he tries again.  “Would you like to know my name?”

You go shock-still, blinking at him and barely breathing.  Why?  Why is he asking this?  He wants to give you his name?  Immediately after you just told him why you don’t need it?

Your throat is a desert.  “Only… only if you want to give it to me.”

He tilts his head the other way and takes a moment to consider you, gently trailing the leather of his thumb along your bottom lip.  Your eyes dip down the length of his body, heat suddenly filling you when you realize how close and well he’s positioned right now, how his hips are at the perfect height standing right between your legs like this.

Mando slowly lowers his helmet to look down at your parted thighs, too.  And then he’s shifting the visor to the side just a bit, eyes catching on something on the bed next to you.  “Want to give you a few things,” he says lowly.

You probably would’ve melted into a puddle if he didn’t immediately hold up the E-bacta shot in front of you in both hands.

Your heart starts pounding though, all the same.  “No—”

“Listen to me,” he tells you calmly, as if you could do much of anything else right now with how much space he’s taking up in front of you.  His size and proximity gave you a thrill just a second ago, but now he’s nothing more than a giant fucking metal wall armed with a needle and blocking your escape.  “I want to give you a few things, but only if you say yes to all of them.  Are you going to listen?”

Maker, your heart is racing, rapid calculations going off in your head as your eyes flick between the syringe and his visor.  Where the fuck is he going with this?  “Y-yes.  I’ll—I’ll listen.”

He holds the shot up between the two of you, as if you didn’t see it the first fifty fucking times.  “First.  I’ll give you a quarter dose of this.  I’ll be gentle and I’ll give it to you somewhere where it won’t hurt, where you won’t even be able to see it, and it’ll make you feel better.  Even good.  Okay?”

You narrow your eyebrows at him.  “You’re not doing a great job at selling me h—”

“Second.  I’ll give you my name.”

Your breath catches.  He continues on casually with the terms of the deal, as if he didn’t just set your whole world on fire with five words.

“You can’t ever use it around other people,” he tells you.  “Only here.  With me, on this ship.  In front of the kid is fine.  But if anyone else ever asks, you don’t know it.  Okay?”

“Okay…” you whisper after a second, your chest filling with flames.

“Third.”  He slowly catches your uninjured wrist in a gentle grip and begins to guide it forward.  “If you… if you want, I’ll… I’ll give you this,” he murmurs, bringing it down to cup his cock.  “I… won’t be gentle.  But I will make you feel good.”

Maker, he’s already rock hard under your palm, throbbing and swollen for you.  Almost as quickly as the urge first came on, you suddenly don’t want to escape anymore.  Instead, maybe you can just… appeal.

“What if we…”  You carefully reach down into his pants, holding his hips still between your knees and beginning to caress his cock.  His skin is like silk under your hand, as hard as the beskar he straps to his body but so warm, and pulsing with life.  “What if we reverse the order, maybe?”

“No,” he grunts immediately.  “You’ll take the shot first, it’ll be a—” his breath catches when you give him a good, rough squeeze.  “—a-a show of—of good faith.”

“That’s literally the only thing I don’t want from this all-or-nothing deal,” you reason, wrapping your legs around him to bring him closer.  He acquiesces cautiously, slowly moving forward.  “I’d be an idiot to give it up first.  Ideally it should go second if there are three terms.”

“I know what you’re d-doing,” he tells you flat out, though he makes no attempt to stop it at all.  He just growls low in his throat when he’s close enough for you to lean up and bite down onto his neck, one of his hands landing on your thigh and locking down onto it tight.  “It won’t… won’t work.  You’re—you’re t-taking the shot first, that’s the deal.”

“I could try crying again,” you proposition breathlessly, squeezing his cock once more and feeling him shudder.

“Ngh—meant it when I—” he gasps when you brush your thumb over his head, dampening the fabric covering his neck with your hot breaths.  “When I-I said that you—you need to w-work on your… your negoti—tiating—”

“What if I just ask you really, really nicely?”  You whisper, slowly starting to jerk him off.  Your grip is tight and strong, and he practically sags and grabs the metal bedframe on either side of you.  “Will it work if I ask you to please fuck me?  Please?  And then I’ll take your shot?”  But then you’re struck by a sudden thought, and maneuver your head away just enough to look up at where his eyes should be.  “But we don’t… we don’t actually have to… y’know, do the other thing, though, if you don’t want to.  It’s okay.”

Mando abruptly pulls back, pinning you with a blank chrome stare.  “W-what?”

“If you…”  You want to find some way to word this to get the correct sentiment across, but it’s difficult with him looking at you so hard.  The last thing you want to do is sound ungrateful.  Your hands stop moving, carefully letting him go and resting on his hips instead, so he knows this isn’t you just trying to find some way out of this.  “You don’t have to tell me your name, y’know.  It’s okay, I’ll—I’ll take the shot, it’s fine.  We don’t need to… to turn something like that into a.  A deal, or anything.  You can still tell me if you want, of course, I just… I don’t want it to be part of like, some sort of… agreement between us, or something.”  You tap a thumb over his hipbone, tilting your head.  “So I’m taking it off the table.  Even if you were the one who put it on there.  No pressure.  I’ll take the shot.  And then you can tell me whatever it is you want to tell me after that.  Apart from that.  A… a show of good faith.”

Mando holds still as a fucking statue in front of you.  If you couldn’t feel the warmth of his skin under your hands, you’d say he looks like a droid in sleep mode almost.  He stays like that for so long, you actually start to worry a little bit.  Was that a thankless, bitchy thing to say to him after he offered to reveal such a big secret about himself?  Should you have just kept your mouth shut?

You suppose he was right, your negotiation skills could use a bit more work.  You did technically just… willingly give up something incredibly valuable in exchange for absolutely nothing in return, didn’t you?  Actually not absolutely nothing, you just agreed to have an actual fucking needle shoved into your body just so he wouldn’t feel any sort of obligation to reveal himself to you whatsoever.  That’s like… rule number one of what not to do when negotiating, isn’t it?  Fuck, what have you done?  Is it too late to take half of that shit back?  Can you start this whole thing over real quick?  How much pressure do you think that glass syringe can handle?  You know you can’t outrun or overpower him, but do you think you’d be able to smash it with your foot before he can stop you?  No.  No fucking way, you would.  Don’t be stupid, don’t be fucking stupid.

And Maker, he’s… he’s still not moving.  You actually start to squirm a little bit under his unreadable gaze, before he eventually brings both hands up to your face and gently cradles your jaw in his gloved palms, bringing you to a still.

“Unbelievable,” the Mandalorian says softly, tilting his helmet at you and carefully brushing his thumbs along your cheekbones.  He doesn’t sound upset.  He sounds truly mystified by you.  Stumped.  Reverent.

You blink at him.  “What?”

“Nobody w-would… but you’re…”  He seems like he’s trying to find the words to describe what he’s thinking, but he can’t.  “You can’t—you… t—?  Not just.  But be—because of.  On—on… pr-prin…”

“I… I do still want you to fuck me, though,” you eventually whisper when he never finishes his sentence.  He’s not the best with words, but that’s okay.  You’re perfectly willing to entertain other mediums.  “First.  Even if it is part of a deal, I don’t give a shit.”

You bring your hand back to wrap tight around him, beginning to pull up and down in strong, steady strokes once more.  The tips of his fingers tighten just slightly on your jaw.

“Please,” you whisper, turning your head to kiss one of his palms.  “Just show me, it’s okay.”

He stays like that for just a split second more.

And then he’s suddenly whipping one of his hands down to grab your wrist.  The other wraps itself more fully around your jaw in its absence and firmly holds your head in place in front of him.

“I won’t be gentle,” he tells you once more, voice coming out hoarse and shaky.  “I—I c-can’t—”

You nod in affirmation as much as you can with his iron grip wrapped tight over your chin like this.  “Th—”

You can’t even get a single word out before Mando shoots both hands down to grab your hips, abruptly yanking your ass off the bed.  Your legs have just enough time to buckle once they hit the ground, but then he’s spinning you around and practically shoving you right back on top of the metal platform, facedown with half your upper-body and both arms hanging over the edge.

Your pants are being snatched over your ass and down your legs as you still work to adjust yourself to the chaotic shift in position.  Holy fuck, he wasn’t ki—

Something blunt presses up against the apex of your thighs, pushes forward, and oh, holy fu—

—oh—holy fuck—

You’re surprised you have enough breath to shout as loud as you do when he slams full-force into you, rattling the bed as he sheathes himself in your slick warmth to the hilt, fully armored behind you and pressing cold beskar tight up against your ass and thighs.  You claw your fingers over the smooth metal surface under the cot and try to brace yourself on something, but there’s nothing to hold onto.  Fuck, he’s so fucking thick.  Forcing you to yield to his hardness, tightening his grip on your hips and keeping you locked in position.

And then he pulls out and then slams back in—starts pounding into you, using your body as a counterweight to thrust himself into and Maker, you would probably be screaming if you could even breathe right.  The inability to inhale just means you can hear him groan through the modulator, shuffle up closer to you and start to drill into you harder.

“Sweet, sweet girl,” he murmurs, and fuck, you would think he was suffocating you if it weren’t for both of his hands being anchored to your hips.  It blazes through you like wildfire, burning your lungs and setting your body alight with flames.  He leans over you and clamps a hand down over your shoulder, and your eyes roll back when he moves up and adjusts his angle just the slightest bit, pounding down into you instead of just into you, and—

“Maker, h-how did I deserve this?”  He whispers quietly to himself, delirious and tight as stars explode behind your vision.  His helmet rests on your shoulder blade, the beskar as heavy and unyielding as his thrusts are as he pummels into that one blinding, heavenly spot, over and over and over again.  “What did I d—where were you when I was—when I was—?”

You finally gasp a ragged, desperate breath in like you’ve been underwater for the last minute instead of under him, taking his cock the way he needs to give it to you.  And then you’re writhing, grinding your body back against his as much as you can, choking on the burning air and trying to put your needs together into a coherent sentence.

“T-take your helmet off,” you finally manage to lift your head up and beg, “please—please, I-I won’t—I won’t look, I sw-swea—” and then your cunt clamps down hard when he shoots up from you and practically rips the thing off his shoulders without another word, the sound of steel clanging loudly on the floor by your feet.

His hand comes around your throat and yanks you to the side before his teeth are sinking into your neck, not a single break in his hard, pounding rhythm.

He probably gets about ten good thrusts in like that before you’re going rigid under him and cumming—hard.

Everything below your waist locks down tighter around him than a fucking vice, and then you explode wet and hot around his cock with a hoarse shout, squeezing him and spasming through each rough, steady thrust as it launches you higher, and higher—

“Fuck—” he snarls into your neck, and then he suddenly kicks up from the rapid slapslapslapslap that got you over the edge to a surging, brutal bam—bam—bam that wrings a sharp, ragged cries from your throat.  Your face screws up and you try not to scream at the sensation, wondering how it was possible that he could make the bliss even more debilitating.  “Fuck, th—your cunt gets… s-so fucking tight when you cum—”

You just whimper for him helplessly, listening to the vulgar sounds of him fucking into you, the loud squelching as he keeps rocking mercilessly deep.

“You hear that?”  He murmurs next to your ear, and the slick sound of it echoes obscenely through the silent hull.  His voice is soft, contrasting blindingly with the way he’s holding you down and fucking you so strong and steady through the aftershocks.  “Fuck—you get fucking wet after you cum, too, don’t you?”

You try to move, try to adjust yourself just slightly, but he locks down around you and holds fast to his rhythm.  Fuck, it feels like he’s fucking the air out of you faster than you can breathe it in, grip like iron and tightening the more you struggle.

“‘M never leaving this,” he slurs, dropping his head to rest between your shoulder blades.  “Never.  Fuck, I’m—you’re—you’re never getting rid of me, sweet girl, I’m—I’m never—never f-fucking leaving—”

“Fuck, I’m—” you gasp, closing your eyes and trying to focus on the spark of a feeling deep inside you.  “Stars, I think I-I might—”

And then Mando licks a slow, warm line up the curve of your spine and a second orgasm is suddenly burning a fucking hole through you, tearing another broken wail from your throat.  You spasm and arch under him, bearing down on his thick cock and trying not to sob.

“Fuck, there we g-go—” he grits against your skin, picking up his speed and fucking hammering into you, completely deaf to your hoarse squeal at the change in tempo.  “Good.  Ngh, fuck—you—y-you want me to cum now?”

“Please,” you beg.  “Please cum, p-please—”

“Where?”  His voice is tight, breathless and shaky.  “Tell me where—quick—”

“Fuck—inside,” you moan, eyes rolling back at the thought of taking his load deep inside you.

Mando’s hips stutter.  For the first time in what feels like an eternity, they jerk back in before they could fully extend all the way out, and your abused lower muscles start to squeeze him in anticipation.

“I can’t—” he rasps, “—I’ve—I-I’ve never—and y-you’ll—”

“Safe,” you wheeze, because you don’t have enough air in your lungs or composure in your thoughts to tell him you have an implant contraceptive.  All you can manage is a shameless, breathless, “Cum deep,” half-tossed over your shoulder.

Your hair is gathered and locked in a tight fist behind your head and if you thought he was fucking you full force, you soon realize he was only at about an eight.  He flattens you against the bed and yanks your head up, arm coming around to brace across your chest and starting to just fucking wreck you from behind.

The change in angle forces his cock to spear up against something that blinds you, something so raw and impairing that you can’t speak anymore, even if you could find the air to.

“Fuck—m’gonna cum,” the Mandalorian grits, the bed rattling on its tracks as his head drops to your shoulder, “f-fuck, s’too fucking good, sweet girl—m’gonna f-fucking cum, I—”

He plows his hips into you just like that once, twice, three—

You lock down and everything goes blurs and goes out of focus, white hot pleasure ripping you apart from the inside as you do scream this time, clamping down and straightening your spine and convulsing in ecstasy.

He snarls and bites down on your neck, grrriiinndding his cock as deep inside you as it’ll go and shuddering above you.  You can feel him pulsing, throbbing as he growls his way through it, breathing heavy and giving you his load just how you asked.

Mando pulls out of you much quicker than you want him to and stumbles backwards, suddenly dropping to his knees on the floor behind you with a metallic clang.  He doesn’t do anything more than that, though; he just stares at your fluttering hole as you slowly start to leak his cum, one of his hands coming up to brace itself on the back of your thigh as he catches his breath and watches.

Fuck, you’re spent.  Panting and exhausted in the same position he left you.  You try to move, but you can’t.  You just sprawl there on your tummy and slowly wait for the feeling to return to your body.

But then he says something.  It’s too quiet—a soft, one syllable word you can’t quite make out.

“Wh—?”  Your muscles feel like lead.  “I couldn’t hear y—”

Gloved hands trail gently over your ass.  And then you feel a small, sharp little prick on the swell of one of your cheeks, but it’s gone after a split second.

And then… fucking bliss.

You sag into the metal bed, feeling the room begin to spin.  Fuck.  He gave you the shot.  The fucker just gave you the shot.  How dare he?  Before you could even work yourself up to the point of tears again?  While you’re still… still fucking dripping with cum right in front of his face?

Until—

“Din,” he says softly.  “It’s Din.”

Din.

How perfectly appropriate, you think.

Short, simple, and to the point.  No flourishes.  A quick, one-syllable punch of air.  One singular, closed I vowel sitting quietly between two consonants, guarded on all sides.  Hard at first, but then tapering off to a soft sound if you let it.  Din.

“Din,” you whisper, fighting the overwhelming high with every last fiber of your gradually depleting consciousness, wanting so desperately to hear the word out loud with your own voice before you’re pulled under, trying to make sure it’s real.  It comes out sounding that way, too; weak and quiet and straining for these last few precious moments with him.

Both of his hands wrap around the back of your knees and you feel his plush lips press gently against your upper-thigh, just below the curve of your ass.  He opens his mouth and licks hot and warm along your damp skin, pulls both your knees apart just slightly and then starts to drag his tongue to the side a bit, and then—

And then everything goes dark.

[redrobinhoods]

Age of Heroes | Chapter 3, Rescue/Capture

AO3 Link | 2360 words (approx) | Prologue, Chapter 2, Chapter 4

Chapter Summary: Anakin and Ahsoka confront General Grievous above Coruscant while Cody goes to follow Boil's lead in the sewers of Mandalore.

CW: Character Death

“The dark is generous, and it is patient. It is the dark that seeds cruelty into justice, that drips contempt into compassion, that poisons love with grains of doubt. […] “Eventually, even stars burn out.” - Revenge of the Sith novelization

“Ahsoka Tano, we meet again. That wasn’t much of a rescue.” The General stopped to hack. Anakin grimaced at Ahsoka, who shrugged back. “And Anakin Skywalker. I was expecting someone with your reputation to be a little older.”

“General Grievous. You’re shorter than I expected.”

“Try not to upset him, Master. He’s having a rough day as it is.” Ahsoka gestured with her montrals towards the battle raging outside of the transparisteel windows of the bridge.

“Jedi scum.” Grievous snatched their lightsabers from the outstretched hands of a MagnaGuard. “Your lightsabers will make a fine addition to my collection.”

“Not today. Artoo!” It was a classic Anakin Skywalker tactic. Ahsoka wished that Rex and the men had been present to watch the chaos unfold. All of R2-D2’s instruments sprang out and his electro-shock prod sprang into action as he flung himself at the droids nearest the Jedi. R7 made a horrified cooing noise. With a laugh, Ahsoka reached into the Force and pulled her lightsabers from the droid general, who was coughing in fury. Or maybe just coughing.

“Crush them! Make them suffer.” He flung a mechanical hand in the direction of the Jedi and three MagnaGuards around advanced.

Ahsoka stepped forward to confront the MagnaGuards while Anakin prevented the Chancellor from being escorted off the bridge. With two blades and one fake-out involving the ceiling she was able to disable two of the three guards by the time Anakin returned to her side. Grievous was barking orders now and had retrieved one of the fallen electro-staffs. Anakin moved to confront him while Ahsoka finished off the final MagnaGuard, cutting off its head while simultaneously driving her lightsaber into its chest. Then there was a crash, and she found herself flying through the air as Grievous drifted out of what had once been a transparisteel window. She flung her arms down and managed to get a hold on a command console until the blast shield closed and the environment stabilized.

Ahsoka swung herself down into the chair of the console that had just saved her life. In front of her was a red screen with an image of the Invisible Hand. The damage from the Venator’s fire looked severe, and parts of the ship were greyed out from damage or loss. She watched as a row of circles on the screen greyed out one by one. “All the escape pods have been launched.”

“Grievous.” Anakin snarled, storming over to the control console. He strapped himself into the seat and took a moment to run his hands over the controls, familiarizing himself with their positioning.

“Can you fly a cruiser like this?” Chancellor Palpatine was picking his way over to them from across the decimated bridge.

“With all due respect, Chancellor. I’d say that the ability to pilot this thing is irrelevant.” Even under normal circumstances, the Separatist Dreadnaught was not designed to land. Like the Republic Venator, they would dock very rarely and only in designated bays. “Strap yourselves in. Ahsoka, open all hatches, extend all flaps and drag fins.”

Ahsoka took a moment to run her hands across the console before her. Not all ships were the same, but many were close enough that an experienced pilot could get the hang of flying any ship in a matter of hours. They didn’t have hours. They had the Force. Ahsoka found her fingers gravitating towards a subsector of the console to a mass of buttons and switches and thanked the Force that she’d fallen into the right seat. “Opening hatches; extending flaps; extending drag fins.”

The ship shuddered as the drag fins completed their extension, then they were accelerating much faster than they had before.

“Did we lose something?” Anakin shouted over the roar of pieces of the hull sheering off.

“We lost our shields.” Ahsoka looked down to find that more of the display was greyed out. “But not to worry, Master. We are still flying half a ship.”

“What are our readings, Snips?”

“Eight plus sixty. We’re in the atmosphere.”

“Tell the interplanetary defense system to stand down!” The Chancellor barked. “They’ll blow us all to bits!”

---

The sky of Coruscant lit up as if the upper reaches of the atmosphere had caught fire. Captain Rex stepped away from Commander Fox’s briefing to see a Dreadnaught- not a Dreadnaught, the fiery half of one- exit the cloud cover.

“What idiot is flying that thing?” Rex muttered, shaking his head. He’d have to prepare the boys to clean up any surviving droids from that wreck as well as those who had been abandoned in the streets. Assuming that the craft wasn’t shot down before it crashed, the planetary defense should’ve activated by now.

“Rex.” Fox called the captain’s attention back over to the radio they had perched on the edge of the holotable. The commander reached over and turned the sound up so that all the clones in the room could hear.

“Repeat, this is Ahsoka Tano and Anakin Skywalker, do not fire! The Chancellor is with us.” Commander Tano’s voice rung through the speakers. Fox turned very slowly to face Rex and spread his hands towards the captain.

“Bantha’ad, that’s my idiot.”

---

“Hold us level, Snips.” 

Ahsoka reached back into the Force, asking it where she could find the controls to the stabilizers, what was left of them anyways. Her hand gripped a lever and she moved it ever so slightly down. The ship gave a shudder as more of the hull sheared off. R7 let out a worried whistle.

“Easy, R7. Passing five thousand.” Ahsoka spared a look over at her master. He was completely calm, hands skimming over the controls as if he had flown this ship all his life. The Force was strong around him and he was unafraid. Palpatine on the other hand was very afraid, and Ahsoka had to block out his Force signature as she turned back to the controls. Then she heard the distinctive rush of water and turned to look out of the surviving transparisteel panes. “Fire ships on the left and right.”

The voice of a clone crackled over her comm. “We’ll take you in. Landing pad is clear.” They had gotten her message after all. She could see the landing pad approaching now. It was one of the ones that the Acclamator assault ships used, but she still wondered if it would be enough.

“We’re coming in too hot.” Anakin muttered. She wondered if he realized the fire ships were alongside them, not that it mattered now. They’d been committed to landing this ship ever since they set foot on it, not that they knew that at the time. She watched as the landing strip approached, hand still on the stabilizer, reaching out to Anakin through the Force and waiting for his command. Just before the impact, she pushed her hand down hard. For a moment, the Invisible Hand leveled out parallel to the duracrete. Then it hit the ground. The astromechs screamed as the ship slide. Ahsoka’s hand leapt off the lever and clutched her seatbelt. Anakin was still calm in the Force, making micro-adjustments to their course as they slid across the landing pad. Ahsoka could’ve sworn she watched a flight tower crumble in their wake. Their flight ended several klicks down the airstrip with a shuddering halt.

Anakin leaned back in his chair, finally removing his hands from the controls. He chuckled then turned to Palpatine. “Thank you for flying Skywalker spacelines, your captain is proud to report another happy landing.”

“This is the co-pilot speaking, let’s get off this thing before it blows.” Ahsoka slipped out of her seatbelt, staggering a little as she stood. The Chancellor was practically out of the bridge door by the time she and Anakin were fully roused from their seats. They followed him out of the bridge, making their way down to the escape pod hatches through the emergency pathways. A fire and rescue crew awaited them outside the ship, along with Mace Windu and a commander of the Coruscant Guard. Behind them two gunships hovered off to the side of the landing pad. One had the red sigil of a medical transport on it.

“Chancellor, are you in need of medical attention?” Mace gestured towards the gunships as he approached them.

“No, no need, Master Windu, thanks to the efforts of these Jedi. Send them on to help our citizens.”

“Skywalker, Tano?”

Ahsoka rubbed the back of her head, it was already beginning to bruise, but she could deal with that back at the barracks tonight.

“We’re fine, Master Windu.” Anakin spoke for them. “Never better.” Now that they were out of the dimly lit ship, Ahsoka could see that Anakin was practically gleaming. And why wouldn’t he be? He had just killed Count Dooku, perhaps directly ending the Clone Wars, then landed a ship that was never meant to land, saving the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic. She felt a glow of pride begin to rise in her chest.

Mace waved off the medical transport. “If you would follow me, I’m sure that the Chancellor would like to make a statement before the Senate as soon as he can.”

“I would indeed, Master Windu. Thank you for your understanding and quick action. There is much to discuss.”

---

Cody exited the elevator followed by three men he had picked up along the way, one of which was the undeterred shiny whose arm he had smacked earlier in the gunship. “Captain Boil, what have you got for me?” Boil, who was waiting just outside the elevator saluted, then gestured for Cody to follow him to the far side of the hole after the gesture had been returned.

“We were cutting off this access point to the Undercity when we engaged one of the leadership, Gar Saxon. He disappeared through there. Seemed to be in a hurry.”

Cody peered into the darkness. His helmet display showed no unusual readings from a cursory scan. “What’s down there?”

“A system of tunnels, mainly sewage ports. Some conduit access pipes.”

“Do they lead outside the city?” Cody didn’t recall seeing the sewer system on any of the holomaps he and General Kenobi had looked over on their way to Mandalore.

“Unknown, sir.”

Cody looked to the troopers behind him, Boil, his men, and the three tag-alongs. “We can’t risk it Let’s move in.” Most of the men idling around followed them, though some remained to keep the entrance secure. Their footsteps and the sound of trickling water was all that Cody could hear as the group advanced through the tunnels. But he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had made a mistake. There was a splash to their left. Cody turned to see a red and black-painted Mandalorian lean down to loosen a rocket from their jetpack.

“Sir, get down!” Cody was pushed to the ground by one of his brothers before the rocket hit where he had been standing. He took a moment to gather his senses; the weight on his back, the sound of his men running in pursuit after the Mandalorians, his own breath. He pushed the body off his back, recognizing the armor as that belonging the shiny, and ran after his men. Too far behind to be of any use, Cody found himself chasing after dead clones and dead Mandalorians, but he continued to follow the footsteps ahead of him.

Cody rounded the corner and saw Boil fighting off a horned-helmeted Mandalorian. At the sound of the commander’s footsteps the Mandalorian drew back and fired wildly as he escaped into the tunnels. Cody threw himself to the tunnel wall to dodge the bolts that came his way. He turned back in time to see Boil hit the ground, a small plume of smoke rising from his chest. Cody cursed as he staggered over to his captain. He hit the ground hard next to Boil, reaching under the man’s head to support his neck as he removed the white and yellow helmet. Boil’s face was slack, dull eyes blinking slowly as he fought for breath. Cody reached for Boil’s hand and the captain took it.

“I’m sorry, Commander.”

“Boil…” Cody didn’t know what to say. He’d held so many of his brothers in his arms as they died, and he never knew what to say. He never had to know. Boil’s hand began to slip from his grasp and his head fell back. Cody let his head hang heavy, allowing himself to mourn the losses for a moment.

The silence was broken by the sound of footsteps. Cody reached for Boil’s gun and turned to see more Mandalorians, blocking all but one of the tunnels. He prepared to die. But they didn’t shoot. Out of the corner of his eye he saw movement in the remaining tunnel and turned his attention there. From the shadows appeared a red and black Zabrak. Cody snarled as he turned both guns towards Maul.

“Take him. Alive.” Maul said pleasantly with a wave of his hand. Cody was flung into the tunnel wall, scrambling to his feet as the Mandalorians all moved towards him as one. He fired off a shot at Maul before turning to face the armored warriors. He was able to take down two before the mob was upon him. A grappling line wrapped around his throat and the shock from energized wire brought Cody to his knees, where he found himself staring into the yellow eyes of the former Sith Lord. Maul removed his helmet with overindulgent caution and ran a finger over the scar on Cody’s temple.

“The great Marshal Commander Cody. A pleasure to meet you.”

‘The pleasure is all yours’ Cody would’ve loved to snarl at him, but he found himself unable to draw breath against the binding. His head was spinning.

“I heard that we have a mutual friend in Obi-Wan Kenobi. I can’t wait to see what you have to say about him.” Maul grabbed Cody’s jaw and pulled him in close. If it weren’t for the line, Cody would’ve gagged as the Sith touched his cheek to Cody’s, whispering in his ear. “We have so much to discuss.”

[bluezey]

Inside Onward - Perils

After a bit of a strange hiatus with that whole real life and “sell your story to Pixar” thing with my mom and her friends, we finally get back to the story with chapter nine.  And if you know the story of Onward as much as I do, prepare your heart, as we’re gonna hit a landmine full of feels starting with this chapter onward.

Btdubs, can’t legally sell the story to Pixar, they don’t accept outside works. Oh well, just gotta hope at least one employee is reading it and enjoying it.  (crosses fingers) please be Pete Docter and Dan Scanlon, please be Pete Docter and Dan Scanlon...

Joy gave a big stretch and a long yawn as he awoke from his sleep on the couch.  As he rose to his feet, Sadness next to him groggily sat up and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.  Disgust and Anger were next to awaken as Joy approached the console, noticing Fear jumping from left to right and back again, messing with the controls. Confused, Joy looked up at the screen, still blank, still clarifying that Ian is asleep.  “What’s going on?” Joy asked.

Fear finally let go of a lever before twisting a few dials.  “I dunno.  Everything was peaceful, then Ian’s equilibrium went haywire.”  Fear pointed to Ian’s vitals, specifically the equilibrium display that should show Ian at perfect balance is swinging back and forth, showing sleeping Ian is being shaken by something.

Sadness eyed the screen, appearing to show signs of light, as if Ian’s eyes were trying to stay closed, but beginning to open.  “I think Ian is waking up.”

“Is that what interrupted my beauty rest?” Disgust huffed.

The emotions gave a starting yelp as the screen lit up, Ian’s vision just a blur of colors as he rolled off of the wooden bench and onto the van floor.

“Yay, Ian’s up!” Joy cheered.

“Is he hurt?” Fear cried out, checking his vitals.  “That was quite a spill!”

As Ian climbed up onto his knees, he caught sight of his Dad, complete in his disguise, lying on the floor.  It appeared when Ian was rolled out of his sleep, he rolled into his Dad.  He felt Dad’s foot pat the top of Ian’s head. “Yeah, I’m still here, Dad,” Ian chuckled as he brushed the foot off his head.

“Ew, who knows what gross things Dad stepped in,” Disgust gagged.

“Forget that,” Fear said, still grabbing controls in a poor attempt to keep Ian’s balance.  “What’s shaking Guinevere?”

“We’re in a van,” Anger replied.

“But Guinevere’s shocks were never this bad,” Fear added.

Ian finally made his way to the front of the van, his eyes squinted as he saw the bright light of the morning sun pour through the windshield.  Barley was at the wheel, happily greeting Ian and Dad with, “Well, good morrow, Lightfoot men.  Welcome to the Path of Peril.”

“Not much of a path,” Ian thought aloud, eyeing the remains of a dirt trail barely visible under the overgrowth of grass and rocks.

“Here, let me help,” Joy told Fear as he stepped in, grabbing controls to help Ian keep balance.

“Yeah, they don’t do any paving around here,” Barley commented. “So heads up, we could run into anything.  A centicore, a wolf dragon, a gelatinous cube…”

Ian laughed to himself. “Okay, what’s a gelatinous cube?”

Barley explained, “It’s a giant green cube that instantly disintegrates anything it touches.”

Joy was laughing by how absurd the very idea sounded, but Fear was all around shaken to his core. “Di-di-di-disintegrates? Anything??”

“Oh please,” Joy told Fear, “Nobody’s disintegrating-“

“BRAKE!!” Anger, Sadness and Disgust shouted, pointing at the screen.  Fear immediately screamed while simultaneously slamming his hand down on a big button.

“We’re not going to run into- OH STOP!!” Ian interrupted himself with his loud shout.  Barley immediately slammed on the brakes, Guinevere immediately screeched to a halt, her front tires mere inches from the edge of the sharp steep cliff.

“…. Are we dead?” Fear finally squeaked, finally opening his eyes.

After finally peeling their faces off the windshield, Ian and Barley stepped out of Guinevere. They both approached the cliff, each taking careful steps as they approached closer to the edge.  Ian couldn’t help it and looked straight down into the sharp drop into darkness below.  “What is this?”

“Bottomless pit,” Barley replied, in both seriousness and caution.  “Whatever falls in there, falls forever.”

Just as he spoke that, Ian and Barley caught sight of Dad blindly walking towards the edge of the bottomless pit.  Ian stretched his arm out to stop him, but only knocked off the fake top half. Thankfully, Barley quickly caught the real bottom half of Dad by the waist and pulled him away from the cliff.

“The top half isn’t real, you idiot!” Anger shouted into Fear’s face, causing the purple emotion to wince.

As Ian walked Dad back into the van, Barley caught sight of a large object still standing tall on the other side.  “Hey Ian, check it out!  This is an ancient drawbridge.  We lower that bad boy, and we are on our way to Raven’s Point.”  As Ian returned to the edge of the pit, Barley instructed, “Look around for a lever.”

“Okay, lever, no problem,” Fear thought aloud, as he began to scan the area within Ian’s eyesight.

Sadness noticed something and pointed with a frown.  “Uh, guys?”

Fear looked where Sadness pointed… to the far distant other side of the bottomless pit.  “Ooh, problem.”

“Found it,” Ian announced nervously.  “But, it’s on the other side.”

“Relax,” Joy told the other emotions.  “We have magic, remember?”

“Oh, right,” Fear sighed as he put a command in on the console.

Ian took a relaxing breath as he took up his staff.  “Okay, I got this… aloft elevar!”  A bright flash of light shot out of the staff, but fizzled out into thin air halfway across the pit.

The emotions unanimously tilted their heads to the side in confusion.  “Huh?”

Barley couldn’t help but laugh.  “You can’t cast a levitation spell that far away!  It’s got like a fifteen meter enchanting radius!”

“How were we supposed to know that?” Anger yelled, stomping up to the console.

Joy flew in and stood between Anger and the console.  “No no, we don’t need Ian to be angry yet.”

“Emphasis on yet,” Disgust muttered.

“What we need is a trust bridge,” Barley suggested.  “It’s a spell that makes a magic bridge that you can walk across.  Just say, ‘bridgrigar invisia.’”  Barley stepped back, gladly giving Ian room to cast the spell.

“Wait, you want us to do it now?” Fear asked aloud.

“Just do it,” Disgust ordered, stamping his foot.

Fear stepped back defensively.  “Okay.” He stepped towards the console and took the controls.

Ian took his stance at the edge of the pit, pointing his staff forward.  “Bridgrigar invisia!” he proclaimed.

Fear peeled his hands slowly off the controls as he eyed the screen in confusion.  “Where’s the bridge?” he asked aloud, the other emotions also loudly questioning what’s happening.  They could see the console glowing in a lustrous blue aura, much like the one nestled in the prongs of the staff, but that’s it.

Ian was completely puzzled. “It didn’t work.”

“No, the spell’s still going,” Barley explained, pointing to the ball of blue light nesting within the twisting branches of the staff.  “You won’t know if the spell worked until you step on it.”

“Step on what?” Fear asked in unison with Ian.

“If you believe the bridge is there, then it’s there,” Barley explained further.

“But it’s not,” Ian stated.

“Well, not with that attitude,” Barley replied.

In a crazed panic, Fear started barking at the other emotions.  “Is he serious?  Is he for real serious?  Is this for real?  This can’t be- he can’t be serious!”  Fear slammed his hands down on the console.

“I’m not gonna step out onto nothing!” Ian exclaimed, eyes wide in complete and utter fear.

Barley paused a moment in thought, then his face lit up as if one of his wild ideas slipped into his head. He ran off towards the back of Guinevere and threw the back doors open, leaving Ian alone to stare into the deep pit, stone solid at his feet while his arms trembled in fright.

Fear still had his hands planted firmly on the console, his body trembling so furiously purple particles beginning to pop off of his form.  Cautiously, Joy began to step forward, gently speaking, “Okay, okay, breathe. Breathe, relax.”

“I can’t relax,” Fear interrupted, hanging his head as his whole body hunched over the console in a desperate attempt to protect it.  “I can’t relax, I can’t relax.  There’s nothing to relax about!”

Disgust rolled his eyes. “He’s having a break down again.”

“Shut up!” Fear turned, standing firmly in place, arms wide apart as his fingers clung to the edge of the console that his purple knuckles were turning white.  Disgust tensed up as she looked back with his eyes wide in shock. “Of course I’m having a break down!” Fear shouted, frustration and trembling fear in his voice.  “It’s my job to keep Ian safe!  If I don’t do my job, Ian will die!  And now… now I have to walk Ian off a cliff to his death??!”

The emotions were still in stunned silence.  They’ve seen Fear snap before, even break down before, but never to such a magnitude as this.  After an awkward silent passed, Joy finally sheepishly said, “Only if the spell fails.”

“Of course it’s gonna fail, Joy!” Fear shouted at her, causing Joy to jump back.  “There’s nothing to walk on but the sweet embrace of Ian’s eternal fall to his torturous unending end!”

“Ian!” Barley’s voice called out.

Fear slumped his strained face into his hands in defeat.  “Oh, sweet Shamblefoot, now what?” he muttered in exasperation before turning back to the console.

Ian was broken out of his terrified trance when he felt Barley tie a thick rope around his waist. He looked over his shoulder to see his brother tie the other end of the long rope around a small boulder nearby and give it a few tugs to make sure it was tight.

Joy approached the console as she looked up at the screen.  “Ohh, I see what he’s doing.”

“So do I,” Fear added in disbelief.  “And I don’t like it.”

“And now we have a rope,” Barley said.  “But you’re not gonna need it.”

“I WANT THE ROPE!!” Ian and Fear shouted in unison.

“Okay,” Barley continued, “I’m just saying, you’re not gonna need the rope because I know you can make that bridge.”  With that, Barley gave an encouraging slap to Ian’s shoulder, perhaps a little too hard as Ian was pushed forward a bit with a grunt.  Ian stood at the edge of the cliff, feet frozen to the ground, looking down into the endless abyss in fright.

Fear body shivered with fright as he stared up into the screen.  Joy took the moment to step forward and place a soft hand on Fear’s shoulder, but even that was enough to make him jump.  “Hey,” she still said softly, looking into Fear’s eyes.  “You can do this.”

Once he body loosened a bit, Fear attempted to nod.  “I can do this… I can do this…” His words were quiet, hesitant, but he still attempted to believe them as he took his hands and placed them on the console.

Ian lifted his staff outward, loosening his foot from the ground and stretching it out over the edge of the cliff.  His foot visibly shaking, Ian tried to close his eyes and focus.  Once he felt he believed enough, he stepped forward.  

Simultaneously and instantaneously, both the aura enveloping the console and within the staff disappeared, and Ian was falling into the pit.

Ian screamed in terror, only outmatched by Fear’s screams echoing through Headquarters.  Even when the rope grew taught, stopping Ian’s fall, Ian and Fear were still believing that it was the end for them.

“I told you!  I told you!” Fear cried, clinging to the console for dear life.  “I can’t do it!  I can’t do it!  And now we’re done for!”

“I’m dying!  I’m dying!” Ian cried, clinging to his staff for dear life.  “I’m dead! I’m dead!  I’m dead!  My life is over!”

“I got you!” Barley’s voice called out as Ian was pulled up by the rope.

“Hey hey hey! Fear!  Fear!” Joy’s voice rang through Fear’s head, but Fear was too far gone to respond.

“I got this!” Anger peeled Fear off the console and gave him a hard smack across the face.  Fear spun a few times before falling onto the console in a daze.  He listlessly lifted himself off the console so he was merely leaning over it, only held up by his arms, while trying to get his bearings.

“Get yourself together, Fear!” Disgust snapped.

“I can’t!” Fear yelled.

“You have to, Fear,” Joy told Fear.  “You need to protect Ian during the spell.”

“It’s easier to protect him when he’s on the ground!” Fear shouted.

“Well that’s not an option!” Anger screamed.

“YES IT IS!!” Fear screamed back at him.

“Everyone, stop!!” Joy shouted before grabbing Fear by the shoulders and looking him in the eyes. “Fear, listen to me.  Ian needs you.”

“I know, but-“ Fear sputtered.

“Ian can’t do this without you,” Joy stated.

“I know, but-“

“No buts.”

“But-“

As the two emotions went back and forth, Barley pulled Ian back to the top of the cliff and bear hugged him tightly into his arms.  He lifted Ian out of the pit and back onto the ground, letting the stiff and terrified Ian stand on his own two legs, gasping in fear.

“Okay, you fell,” Barley said in his encouraging tone.  “Now, was that so bad?”

“YES!!” Fear shouted as he turned to the screen.

“YES!!” Ian shouted as he turned to Barley.

“Are you still alive?” Barley asked firmly.

Fear opened his mouth to respond, but paused.  Joy leaned against the console, giving Fear a positive yet smug grin.  Feeling defeated, Fear narrowed his eyes and sighed a groan before tapping a button on the console.

Ian sighed an admitted, “Yes.”

“Okay, so now you know the worst that could happen,” Barley explained, “so there’s nothing to be scared of, right?”

Ian gave a soft nod and a quiet, “Right,” while glancing back unassuredly at the pit.

Joy pulled his hand back from the console as Fear was shaking his head back and forth.  “No, no no, no, this makes no sense at all.”

“Look, Barley believes in Ian,” Joy said softly but firmly.  “And I believe in you.”

“But I don’t believe a bridge is there,” Fear replied, “especially when it’s not there!”

“I do.”  Joy smiled as he stood next to Fear at the console. “So, let’s try it again, but together. I’ll believe in Ian-“

“I believe in Ian,” Fear clarified. “I just don’t believe in me- BRIDGE!  BRIDGE!  I don’t believe the BRIDGE is there!”

Joy placed a hand on his shoulder to calm him down.  “Then I’ll believe the bridge is there,” he clarified with Fear.  “You focus on Ian’s steps, and get him safely to the other side.”

Fear finally nodded. “Okay… okay…”

Barley held onto the rope as Ian held up his staff.  Ian pointed his staff outward and proclaimed again, “Bridgrigar invisia!”  The blue aura of magic appeared within the prongs of the staff again, but Ian could only see empty space over an endless drop into the abyss.  Fear could see the console wrapped in the magical aura, but his hands were shaking as he gripped the two big levers in front of him, Ian’s arms began to tremble.

“Hey,” Barley stated to Ian. “You can do this.”

Fear began to shake his head again.  Ian can do it, but he can’t, which means Ian’ can’t.

“Hey,” Joy almost whispered to Fear, an encouraging optimistic smile on his face.  “The sooner we’re on the other side, the sooner we get to Dad.”

That was barely enough for Fear to stop shaking his head and give a nod instead.  He gripped the left lever as Ian held his left foot out over the pit.  Fear took a deep breath, closed his eyes, Ian took a deep breath, and Fear pushed the lever forward.

Ian lowered his left foot, feeling it plant firmly onto solid ground.  Ian opened up his eyes, and so did Fear, both seeing the solid ground was an aura of magic, just big enough to hold Ian’s foot in the air.

Joy sprang with excitement. “You did it!  We did it!  Ian did it!” The other emotions were in a quiet awe as Fear exhaled a nervous laugh.

The Lightfoot brothers shared a congratulatory laugh with each other when they realized the spell worked. Feeling confident, Ian took another step forward.  Instead of solid, however, Ian stepped on air, causing him to lose his balance.

The emotions gave a unified, shocked scream as Barley pulled back on the rope, pulling Ian back into his balance on just one foot.  “Believe with every step,” Barley instructed.

“Got that, Joy?” Fear told Joy.

“I’m on it,” Joy said as he held a button down on the console.  “You keep focus.  And, you can believe in yourself too.”

“Ian, you mean, Ian,” Fear quickly corrected.

Joy winked.  “Right.”

Fear swallowed his nerves, took a deep breath and pushed the left lever forward.  Ian took another step.  Fear pushed the right lever forward, Ian took a step.  They began to alternate, left, right, left, right.  Ian began to laugh a little in disbelief, thanks to Joy.  But Fear began to laugh in disbelief all because he couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“You still got me right?” Ian called out to Barley, looking at his steps over the bottomless pit.

“I still got you!” Barley called back, pumping his fist in the air joyfully.  “Woo hoo!  Ian Lightfoot is fearless!”

“He’s not fearless,” Joy commented, pressing a few more buttons on the console.  “He’s got the best Fear, right Fear?”

Fear chuckled, “Yeah, he does.”

Ian couldn’t help but laugh, watching as he stepped over nothing, practically defying gravity. “This is amazing!”

“Yeah, but just keep going!” Barley shouted out to him.  “Don’t look back!  Just straight ahead!”

Nervous Fear was feeling less of his nerves as he couldn’t help but laugh along with positive Joy. “I can’t believe this is happening, but here we are.”

“Ian’s doing it,” Joy almost sang with a smile, “and so are you!”

Ian had a smile forming on his face as well.  “You still got the rope, right?” Ian asked Barley, not looking back.

“Yeah, I got it!” Barley replied.

Giving into her optimistic, playful side, Joy fiddled with a few switches, dials and other controls, making the console yellow glow shine brighter than its purple glow.

“I am not afraid!” Ian declared into the skies above him.  “Oh man, I can stay out here all day,” he said, taking his next few steps in a silly, playful manner.

Fear laughed as he said, “Come on, Ian’s not like that.”

“No,” Joy admitted with a shrug and a smile, “But he can be.”

The other emotions watched and laughed along with the sight onscreen.  “I could get used to this Iandore,” Disgust thought aloud to Anger.

“Yeah, this one’s kinda cool,” Anger grinned.

Fear kept at the controls, but he was distracted a bit by the very thought of those words.  The new Iandore.  Heh, guess he’s on the right track.

“Okay, but keep moving!” Barley shouted out to Ian.  “We got to see dad, remember?”

“Hey, dad!  This last step is for you!”  Ian proudly turned around to see his dad as he took that last step on the air.  Instead, his eyes caught Barley holding the rope.

Holding the rope.

Holding the untied rope.

Holding the untied rope that’s not tied to Ian!

Ian’s face fell in horror. The magic fizzled from the staff and the console in a soul shattering pop.  Ian fell.

“AHH!!” the other emotions shouted in horror.

“NOO!!” Acting faster than he ever could, Fear slammed his hand hard on a button.

Ian quickly grabbed onto the rock wall, thankfully catching his grip on a rock barely jutting out from below the ledge.  After finding his hold with his feet, Ian managed to use all his strength to hoist himself onto the ledge.  With his life depending on it, Ian climbed onto the top of the cliff, and never stopped until he was standing on solid ground.

Now that he was sure Ian was safe, and had Ian pull the lever to lower the drawbridge, Fear let go of the console, and let himself faint limply onto the ground.

When Fear finally came to, all he could see was the ceiling and hear the sounds of the emotions celebrating.  Fear felt himself getting lifted up off the couch and into Joy’s arms.  “We did it!  We did it!  We did it!” Joy cheered.

“We did?” Fear asked, almost blankly, still coming to his senses.

Ian was still staring blankly ahead, clinging to the lever in one hand and his staff in the other, the only movements he made was when he took deep breaths.  After driving across the drawbridge, Barley leaped out of the car and raced up to Ian, grabbing him from behind in a big hug and lifting him in the air.  “Oh wow, that was amazing!” he exclaimed.

“Oh, it’s Barley!” Joy cheered as the emotions raced back to the console.

Hearing Barley’s voice snapped Fear back to his senses.  He shook his head before racing back up to the console.  “Hold it!” he ordered, holding out one arm while slamming his other hand down on a button.

“How long… was the rope gone?” Ian asked, still in shock.

“Oh, for like the second half of it,” Barley casually replied.

“WHAT??” Fear shrieked, before slamming his hand down on another button.

“I needed that rope,” Ian stated.

“Oh,” Barley replied. “But did you?”

Fear was about to slam his hand on another button, but paused. His eyes grew wide, having no response for that, because it was so… true.  Ian crossed the trust bridge.  Ian didn’t have the safety rope.  And he didn’t die.  Well, he almost did.  But, Fear saved him.  Fear helped him cross the trust bridge, and he saved him when they lost their faith. Fear couldn’t help it when Ian looked into the bottomless pit, he had to look too.  That empty eternal void could have been their grave, Ian’s grave.  But, Fear kept Ian safe.  And Joy helped him keep confident enough to cross the bridge.

“Hey, Ian.”  Fear lost his train of thought when he heard Barley’s voice.  Ian turned to his brother, seeing him pointing up at a raven statue over the archway of the drawbridge.  “Look, it’s a raven statue.  The clue said Raven’s Point.”

Ian nodded, unsure where this was going.  “Yeah, the mountain.”

“But maybe it wasn’t the mountain.  Maybe it was follow where the raven is pointing.”  Following his gut, Barley stepped back until he was standing under the raven, clasped his hands together in a mildly dramatic manner, and lowered his pointed fingers straight ahead.  He gave a shout of excitement when he caught sight of another raven statue in a field straight ahead.  “Ha ha! It’s another raven!”

Ian was in disbelief, and the emotions jaws unanimously dropped in awe.

“That one could be pointing to another raven,” Barley explained through his excitement, “all the way to the gem!”

“No way,” Disgust whispered awestruck, as Fear leaned forward onto the console, resting his hands on a few random controls.

Ian thought to himself, “I had us going the wrong way.”

“Well I told ya!  My gut knows where to go, don’t ya boy?” Barley laughed to himself as he shook his belly while pretending it was talking back to him.

When Fear finally processed what was happening, he asked the others, “Are we really gonna do this?”

“Do what?” Joy asked non chalantly.

“Follow a more random clue than following a mountain?” Fear asked.

There was a moment of quiet before Sadness spoke up, “He was right about believing in ourselves. Until we didn’t, at least.”

“And he seems to have an idea about what’s going on,” Disgust added, “more than we do.”

Fear turned to Anger. “What about you?”

Anger looked up at Fear, gripped his fists as he looked the emotion down and up, as if he was sizing Fear up more than thinking about Barley.  It was enough to make Fear think that Anger’s nod in agreement may be a bit biased.

“Don’t worry, dad,” Barley boasted, tossing the car keys in his hand.  “Guinevere will have us to the raven in no time.”

The emotions gave a slight relieving chuckle at Barley, but the moment quickly faded when they heard a sound rapidly approaching the brothers.  “Are those sirens?” Joy asked.

“For Feldar’s sake, I hope not,” Fear cursed as that shiver crept back up his spine.

Ian stepped back as a police car sped by and braked to a halt, leaving a cloud of dust in its wake. As the dust settled, Colt Bronco squeezed his way out of the small door of the patrol car.  Once he was on his hooves, he stared the two brothers down through his mirrored sunglasses.  “You boys are in trouble big time,” Colt told them sternly.

“Trouble?” Fear whimpered, his nerve crinkling at the very thought.

Barley quickly explained, “No no no, Colt, we found a spell!  If we finish it before sunset, we get to see our father.”  To further explain, Barley tore the decoy top half off of Dad’s disguise, showing the real half is just nothing but sentient legs.

Colt bucked back in shock as he gave a startled yelp.  “Your mom did say you boys had a strange… family issue going on,” Colt replied, taking off his sunglasses to get a good look at what he’s seeing, “and this is… definitely strange… but no, dangit, I’m not gonna let you upset your mother anymore. Now get back in your vehicle, I’m escorting you home.”

“Home?” Joy gasped. “But that’s the opposite way to the gem!”

“We’ve come so far,” Disgust stated. “We can’t just give up.”

“This isn’t fair!” Anger snapped.

The tears began to swell in Sadness’s eyes.  “Oh no. Ian’ll never see dad.”

“No, no way,” Barley replied defiantly.

Fear was in the middle of the group of emotions, all bickering, all complaining, all worried. And, they were all right.  Ian’s come so far, in both the journey and as himself.  But, what can they do?  And when their next road block is an actual cop?

“I’m giving you until the count of three,” Colt warned.

Ian quickly snagged the keys from Barley’s hands.  “Okay. We’ll go.”

“Ian?” Barley looked at Ian in quiet disbelief, just as the emotions looked at Fear at the console.

Fear pressed the button on the console again.  “He’s a police officer,” he told Barley, then headed back to the van.

The emotions watched as Fear guided Ian into the driver’s seat of the van, Ian turned the key in the ignition and just sat there, looking straight ahead, taking deep quiet breaths. The emotions shouldn’t be surprised that Fear would give up, or even take over without asking the others what they thought.  It was Fear placing Ian in the driver’s seat, of an idling Guinevere no less, that had them dumbfounded of what’s going on inside his own head.  They noticed as Fear was just standing there, staring ahead at the screen, taking deep quiet breaths.  He too had the same vacant, unsure look as Ian had.

Barley climbed into the passenger seat and faced Ian.  “What are you doing?”

Joy finally broke the silence.  “What are you doing?”

Staring ahead, Ian quietly replied, “I don’t know.”

Staring ahead, Fear quietly told the other emotions, “I don’t know.”

Fear slammed his hand on a large button, Ian slammed his foot hard down on the gas pedal.  Like a wild steed, Guinevere went bolting off into the open fields ahead, away from the cops.

The emotions unanimously gasped.  They couldn’t believe what they were seeing!  Their gazes darted from the screen to the console and back again, almost a dozen times, and they still didn’t believe it!  They thought they knew Fear since the day Ian was born, he would never do anything so thoughtless, so reckless, so… why is he doing something so thoughtless and reckless?

“Fear, you’re getting Ian in trouble!” Joy shouted.  “What are you thinking?”

“I don’t know!” Fear shouted back, terror on his face as he kept at the controls, frantically inputting commands.  “I just need to get Ian somewhere safe!  He needs to see his dad!”

Joy looked a little amazed as he finally figured out what Fear was doing.  “Ooh.”

Barley laughed with excitement as he pumped his fist in the air outside the passenger window.  “Ha ha!  Ian Lightfoot, breaking the rules!”

Even with his hands on the wheel and his foot on the gas, Ian still couldn’t believe this.  “I can’t believe I’m running from the cops!”

“No you’re not,” Barley assured him.  “You’re running from mom’s boyfriend.”

Ian looked away from the sight of Colt’s patrol car in the rear view mirror… to see half a dozen patrol cars approaching them from up ahead.  The emotions unanimously gave a shout of shock.

“Okay, now you’re running from the cops,” a shocked Barley told an equally shocked Ian.

“What do I do?  What do I do?” Fear shouted in a panic, trying to focus on the controls.

“Just do what you’re doing!” Joy shouted over Fear’s chaos.

“I don’t know what I’m doing!!” Fear screamed, losing focus.

“Move over!”  Anger shoved Fear out of the way and started pressing buttons and turning dials.  Outside, Ian turned the wheel sharply to the right, barreling through a rotten wood fence and off the unpaven road completely.  Fear was still in a panic as the cops kept their pursuit, appearing to catch up.

“Look!  Over there!” Disgust called out over the chaos, pointing at a raven statue in the distance.  Together, both Fear and Disgust leaped forward and slammed their hands on the same sequence of controls.

“Hold on!” Ian shouted as he cut the wheel hard, skidding Guinevere over some sharp twists and turns. The Lightfoot brothers held on, everything outside the windshield a blur until Ian finally straightened out. Guinevere was now on a gravel trail up a mountainside, with the cops further away from their tail.

Joy jumped with enough joy that a flurry of yellow particles puffed off of him.  “Ha ha!  That was amazing!  Ian did something amazing!”

“He did?  He did!” Fear cheered with the other emotions.

“Yeah!  Way to go, Guinevere!” Ian cheered, patting the dashboard of the van.

The celebration was short lived as the gravel path was blocked by a guard rail and a road closed sign blocking a sharp drop off a cliff.  The brothers gasped as Fear grabbed both large levels and pulled back, making Ian slam the breaks hard, causing Guinevere to screech to a halt.  Ian backed up and turned Guinevere around, but stopped when they saw the distant cop cars coming up fast.  The boys were trapped.

With the excitement and chaos dying fast, Fear managed to snap back into reality, and slowly pull his trembling hands off the controls.  “Oh no… no no no no no no no, what have I done?”

Ian climbed out of the van and ran to a stop a few feet ahead of Guinevere.  “Oh no, what did I do?  I shouldn’t have driven away.”

Barley approached him, wizard staff in hand and leaving their Dad to blindly step out of the van. “No, no that was great!” Barley encouraged Ian.  Acting fast, Barley shoved the staff into Ian’s hands.  Then, he pointed up to a stack of boulders balancing on a ridge over an expanse of the gravel path between them and the oncoming cops.  “Block the road with those boulders.”

“What? How?” Ian asked in shock and confusion.

Barley defiantly replied, “Arcane Lightning.”

“What??” the emotions gasped.

“But you said that’s the hardest spell!” Ian told Barley.

“You are ready,” Barley stated firmly to his brother, looking him dead in the eyes.  “The decree states ‘To make lightning strike with ease, one must follow all decrees.’  You have to do everything.  Speak from your Heart’s Fire.  Trust yourself.  Focus. All of it.”

“Are we seriously going to do this?” Fear shouted in fright and shock.

“I got it!” Joy raced back to the console while holding a purple memory orb from the night before. He peeked inside the orb to get a good look of that memory of Ian looking at the Arcane Lightning page for one brief moment.  “It says… ‘Voltar Thundasir.’”

Fear gulped.  “I guess so,” he whimpered as he gripped the controls.

“Wait.”  Joy stood next to Fear and gripped the controls as well. “I trust.  You focus.”

Fear stammered, “R-right.”

Ian pointed the staff upward, straight at the pile of boulders.  “Voltar Thundasir.”  The air between the three prongs sparked, but fizzled just as quickly.

“Heart’s Fire.  Anger, get in here!” Joy called out to Anger. Anger cracked his knuckles and took the controls as well.

“Voltar Thundasir.” Again, a crackle, but nothing.

“Everyone!”  Joy called out as Disgust and Sadness took their places at the controls.  “Ian needs our help!”

“Voltar Thundasir.”  The staff crackled and sparked, until a small bolt of lightning connected between the prongs.

Joy perked up when he heard the soft zolting sound continue to grow.  “It’s working… everyone hold on!”  Around the emotions, little particles of energy began to appear, and the air seemed to gradually fill with electrical static.

Ian was groaning through the struggle.  He tried to ignore the sirens and focus on the spell.  He tried to ignore his doubts and listen to his Heart’s Fire.  He tried to ignore his fears and trust himself.

The third was easier said than done.  Fear was seeing the spell working, the console light up with golden light.  He saw how everyone was focused on helping Ian. Fear was trying to focus too… but he couldn’t.  He knew Ian could do it, he had no doubt in his mind… so it must have been him.  It must be him.  Fear must be doubting himself!  After these short hours, after all he and Ian’s been through, he’s still doubting himself? He’s still doubting Ian?  What’s wrong with him??

As Fear was firmly engulfed in his fears, he released his hands from the console and backed away.

Ian pulled away his staff in frustration, before he ended up gasping in frustration and guilt in himself. “I can’t… I can’t do it…”

The emotions looked up from the console and looked back at Fear, who fell to his knees on the floor. Joy was the first to run to him.  “Fear!”  Joy slid to a stop and knelt down next to Fear.  “Fear, what’s wrong?”

Fear was a shaking, trembling mess.  Purple particles were shivering off his form as he tucked his hands under his arms.  “I can’t… I can’t… I can’t…” was all he could mumble as his nerve unculred and drooped down his back.

“He’s doing it again,” Anger snarled.  “I knew this would happen!”

“We were doing so good,” Disgust pouted, stomping his foot into the ground.

“Guys, not now,” Joy almost whispered to Anger and Disgust before going back to comforting Fear.  “Come on Fear, you can do this.  Ian needs you.”

“I know… I know… I just… I just…”

Sadness wiped a tear from his eye before he looked up from the emotions and noticed Dad Island lit up.

“I’m not going to see you, dad,” Ian whispered, tears beginning to pool in his eyes as he lowered his head in shame.  “And it’s all my fault.”

Sadness approached the console, feeling drawn by Ian’s depression.  He placed a hand on the console, just the touch of a button caused a cascade of a couple of blue memory orbs into Ian’s short term memory.  But the familiar sound of an engine whinnying back to life caused Sadness to pull his hand back, as well as catch the attention of the other emotions.

Ian looked up and turned back, seeing Barley in the driver’s seat of Guinevere.  “What are you doing?” he asked softly.

Barley said not a word. He quietly plugged in an old cassette tape into the dashboard, turned up the volume, and gave the dashboard one last loving brush of his hand.  As the valorious music played on, Barley left the car in park, picked up a stone and placed it on the gas pedal.  Guinevere roared with energy, like a stallion ready to escape its pen, as Barley adjusted the steering wheel, aiming his mighty steed at just the right target. He put the van in drive, and gave Guinevere one last pat on the rear bumper as she drove straight forward.

The emotions gathered around the console in a hushed awe, their eyes as wide as Ian’s, as they saw Guinevere figuratively gallop to her destiny.  Then literally as her rear tire popped into a bumpy flat, but she still kept going.  Guinevere shot over a ramp like rock, causing her to soar and slam headlong into the pile of boulders.  In one avalanche, Guinevere and the boulders fell, blocking the road, blocking the cops. Guinevere performed her heroic duty, but was buried under the pile of boulders in her final task.

Headquarters was so silent you could hear a particle flutter softly down to the floor.  The emotions were still processing the valiant deed Barley had done, and they still couldn’t believe it.

“Barley just did that?” Joy softly asked.

Fear quietly asked, “Why would he do that?”

Barley solemnly picked up a small gem shaped tail light that managed to fall off Guinevere in her sacrificial quest.  All Ian could do was stand and watch.

Barley took a deep exhale. “It was just a beat up old van,” Barley quietly responded to Ian’s unspoken question.  He tucked the last remnant of his mighty steed into his vest pocket.  “Come on. We gotta go.”

With Barley leading Dad by the leash, and Ian carrying his staff, the two climbed down the rocky cliffside, crossed the grassy field towards the raven statue, and continued their journey on foot.

[saiilorstars]

Falling in Temptation

Previous chapters  || Sequel to Stars Dance

Fandom: Doctor Who

Pairing: 11th Doctor/ Female OC

~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~0~

Ch. 5: A Cosmic Plant Baby 

Chapter summary: Lena Reynolds receives a letter that's meant for the Doctor. It takes only a short amount of time for the Doctor's companions to suspect if this is how he ends up in Lake Silencio where he is to die in 200 years. 

Fairy Tale Memoirs (Companion story)

A/N: Disclaimer: This chapter's plotline is from Doctor Who's comic stories. Most of the dialogue is directly written from the comic. The plot is NOT mine.

Avalon hurried into the console, nearly tripping over the steps as she went up. "We gotta go see Lena!"

"Morning to you too," Amy was making a face indicating honest concern for Avalon's strange cheerfulness. Mornings weren't exactly Avalon's thing.

"How do you trip going up the stairs?" the Doctor genuinely wondered, his eyes going past Avalon to the steps and back. Not even he could pull something like that.

Avalon, in turn, sent him and Amy a glare before returning to the reason for her cheerfulness. "We gotta go see Lena! She says we have mail!"

"Mail?" Now it was Rory's turn to be concerned. Why the hell would Avalon be so happy about mail?

Avalon nodded her head. "Yes! Space mail! Least that's what Lena described it to be."

"Space mail?" the Doctor repeated, though the more he thought about it the more confused he was. "You don't get 'space mail' on Earth."

"Uh, yeah we do, have you not been listening?" Avalon set her hands on her hips. "It's directed to you, actually. I thought you'd be a bit more excited."

"Well, getting mail the last time didn't work out so well for me, did it?" the Doctor muttered and turned for the console, reminding the trio of their most recent trip to the pocket dimension that led them to House.

Avalon's cheerfulness faltered. That had not been her intention at all. It had been a bit difficult adjusting to life after their encounter with House, not to mention having the TARDIS talking in an animated body. Now that the Doctor had admitted to Avalon what he did in the Time War, he felt strange around her. She had promised him that nothing had changed in regards to how she viewed him. To her, he was still her Fairy Tale Man. But just the fact that she knew what he was truly capable of sent him into a state of panic. The panic then gave him thoughts like 'what if she leaves?', 'what if she realizes I'm nothing but a monster?'. And then the fact that he even had those thoughts alerted him to something he'd been trying to ignore for a while: why didn't he have the same feelings of panic and shame with Amy, Rory and Lena? Why was it just with Avalon?

He could assume the answer, but he didn't want to openly admit that he may or may not have a special liking towards Avalon. Because if he did, then it meant he was going to put her in danger...more than what the letter (the one Avalon received last year by a mysterious sender) warned she was already in. He couldn't do that to her.

"I didn't mean to…" Avalon's quiet voice pulled the Doctor from his thoughts. She was aware of what he'd reminded him of. "I just...I thought…" she shook her head. "Sorry. I'll just tell Lena to get rid of it. Never happened right?" She looked at Any and Rory for some help.

"Right," the two chorused.

"No, no," the Doctor shook his head. "If someone left me a letter with your sister then it must be important. Plus, it means they know that I know Lena and she knows me. We have to."

"I didn't think of it like that," Avalon blinked, newfound concern spreading across her face.

"No harm done. We'll be there in 2 seconds," the Doctor's announcement came late as he pulled the lever on the console, sending the group into a jostling trip to 2011 Leadworth.

~0~

As soon as Lena heard the TARDIS wheezing she knew her big brother was coming. She scurried out of her room and down the stairs, coming out of the house in time to see the group of travelers emerging from the blue box across the street.

"You're here!" she crossed the street in a dash and hugged the Doctor then Avalon. "Gotta admit I thought you might come like a month late or something."

"I wouldn't do that," the Doctor said much too quick then noticed the simultaneous looks from his companions. "Well, I'd try not to do that."

Lena chuckled. She gave Amy and Rory each a hug as well then led all of them back into the house.

"So, Ava says you've got mail for me?" the Doctor asked once they were inside.

"Yeah, it's really weird but it does have your name on it," Lena went directly for the fireplace mantle. She picked up the envelope she was looking for, then came back to the group, holding said envelope out for the Doctor to take. "Dad said we had to give it cos we never know what it could be."

"Where is Dad anyways?" Avalon looked around the house and decided it was far too quiet for her father and Gavin to be there. "And Gavin?"

"Dad's at work and Gavin is on a play date," Lena shrugged. "Just me."

"...and you're okay?"

Lena knew the look that Avalon was giving her. It was the same concerned one she always did. "Avalon, I'm fine. You keep travelling, alright? But if you want to open that letter here I wouldn't mind," she said ever-so-innocently.

The Doctor gave her a smirk. "Can't help yourself, can you?"

"Nooo!" Lena admitted with a scrunched face. "I keep wondering if it's like a letter from the Queen? From UNIT? Or, I don't know some alien people? Could you open it, please?"

The Doctor shrugged in a 'why not?' manner and ripped the envelope open. He pulled out a small slip of paper and found…

"Coordinates?" Amy had been right behind him and as soon as she said what she saw, the Doctor threw her a look for her nosiness. She smiled awkwardly and stepped back beside Rory.

"Is it really just coordinates?" Lena asked, sounding (and looking) very disappointed that all the hype had been for measly coordinates.

"In my experience-" Avalon swiftly pulled the slip of paper from the Doctor's hand, ignoring his look, "-it's not the coordinates that gives the thrill, it's the destination! I wonder where this leads to?"

"In some experiences-" Rory began with a clearing of his throat, "-maybe following an invitation won't lead to good things."

Avalon, Amy and Lena immediately understood.

Lake Silencio.

"Oh...oh he's right," Lena suddenly went, swallowing hard. Oh, she felt guilty now. What if it was a trap? What if this was the way the Doctor ended up in Lake Silencio where he was murdered?

"Maybe we shouldn't follow it," Avalon very slowly put the slip of paper behind her back. "Maybe...maybe we should just ignore it and go back to the TARDIS."

The Doctor took note how each of his companions slowly fell - like dominoes - into apprehensive states. "Okay, what is going on? What did I miss?"

"Nothing," Rory shook his head, but his eyes kept flickering to the women.

"That!" the Doctor pointed at him. "Why are you doing that?"

"Doing what?" He looked again.

"That!"

"What?"

The Doctor deadpanned Rory then decided to switch and turned to Amy. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," the ginger folded her arms. Though she was lying, she was doing it much better than Rory. One would almost believe her.

"Big brother, I think they're just thinking logically," Lena's explanation pulled the Doctor her way. "I mean, it could very well be a trap."

"Well, yes, but it also means we need to follow it or else they might do something worse to get my attention."

"But they might not…" Lena put on her best smile for him, but it wasn't enough to deter his intentions.

He turned to Avalon and walked towards her, only to have the ginger backtrack the same steps. "Avalon, give me the paper," he held his hand for it but she shook her head.

"I think we should really consider this whole 'trap' thing--" she was starting to say, but now he shook his head.

"-that's nice but I'm still going to need that. Hand it over."

"No!"

"You were just saying how curious you were of what the destination was!"

"That was before I realized it could be a trap! A dangerous trap!"

"Give me the paper!" the Doctor exclaimed just as Avalon's back hit the wall.

"No! And I am not afraid to stuff it into my mouth!"

The Doctor scrunched his face at such an awful threat. He looked back at the others only to see that their faces. It was not a hollow threat, apparently. The Doctor groaned and rubbed a hand down his face. "Avalon Reynolds, give me the paper or so help me I will--"

But Avalon quickly stuffed it into her mouth. The paper. She stuffed the paper into her mouth.

The Doctor had to blink for a moment as he decided whether or not he'd just seen her actually do that. His mouth had certainly nearly hit the ground when he realized that she had done it.

"Avalon!" Rory reprimanded was as horrified as the Doctor. "Spit that out! You don't know where that thing's been!"

Avalon was crinkling her nose as an interesting flavor caught her tongue. "...sho?"

"Oh this is childish, even for you," the Doctor grabbed her by the chin. Rory was absolutely right. For all they knew, that paper could be laced with poison. "Spit it out! Now!"

"No!"

"You can't swallow that whole!"

Avalon's face  said 'watch me'. It was in these moments that the Doctor honestly found her annoying. At times it was endearing the way she frustrated him -- because they often fought the same way -- but other times like these, he nearly shook her until her head fell off. 

"Forget it!" He let her go and headed for the door.

"Where are you going, big brother?" Lena worriedly called. He didn't look very deterred, more like exasperated with the situation.

"I saw the coordinates, I can very much do it from memory!"

Avalon then spit the paper out and made a 'yuck!' noise afterwards. "Really thought that would work."

"If anything, you just motivated him to do it," Amy shook her head with a sigh. "C'mon, we better go with him."

"But what if it really is part of the Lake Silencio trap?" Avalon felt her heart constrict at the memories of what she saw.

"Then let's make sure it doesn't happen," Amy purposely strode towards the door.

"Seriously, Ava, eating paper?" Rory stopped by the woman with the same disapproving look as before.

"I'd eat anything if it meant Lake Silencio never happens," Avalon stomped her foot over the wad of paper on the floor and swished it until it tore into pieces.

"I'm coming too," Lena announced just before she headed for the door as well. "If there's a chance of stopping this murder then I'm coming!" Avalon wouldn't even attempt to fight her sister on this one because if roles were reversed she'd do the same thing.

The Doctor had already inputted the coordinates he believed were fairly right when the rest of the group entered the TARDIS. He threw a specific look at Avalon. "Oh, you finished your snack, then?"

"Screw off," she snapped. "I'm trying to stop you from falling into a trap."

"I didn't need your help."

"I think you do," Avalon said so uniquely certain that the Doctor stopped a moment to read her expression better. She didn't look like her usual self trying to play games. She was on business.

But what kind of business?

Well, she'd never tell him to his face, that much he knew.

"Lena, you're coming?" Hr instead chose to change subjects for the time being.

Lena nodded her head. "This person knew our address so I'd like to know who it is," she so easily lied.

"Just take it easy, then," the Doctor warned before heading back for the console. He didn't know what he was getting into but he was awfully curious as well.

~ 0 ~

The TARDIS brought the group into dark woods. The trees seemed endlessly tall, reaching far up into the gray sky. Some of them were pink and the others were a dark gray, making the latter blend in the sky.

"This place looks like a Halloween movie waiting to happen," Amy remarked after stepping on the mushy pink grass.

"Pink leaves?" Avalon made a face. She held a hand out to catch one of the dozens of falling pink leaves from the sky. "Okay, where are we?"

"I'm hoping it's the right place since, you know...you ate my coordinates," the Doctor walked up beside her.

She met his sharp look with a glare. "I'd do it again," she said with nothing but honesty.

"Where are we, though?" Rory walked a few steps with Lena, both awed by the incredibly tall trees.

The Doctor whipped out his sonic and scanned the area. He then brought it close to his ears and listened. "I don't like this…"

"Me neither," Lena admitted.

"Maybe it means we should go back," Amy said with a face indicating she fully meant her words.

"Don't think so, Pond," the Doctor wagged a finger at her. "If anything...no, hold on. Don't touch anything!" He warned then dashed back into the TARDIS.

Soon as he was in, the group quickly gathered together and spoke in hushed voices.

"This looks nothing like Lake Silencio. Should we still be worried?" Lena whispered first.

"Yes," Avalon instantly answered. "For all we know this is where it all starts. If it was up to me, I'd have already knocked the Doctor out and we've be off somewhere else."

"Is violence your answer to everything?" Rory gave her a look that suggested she answer carefully.

"I'm scared," she said with an uncharacteristically frail tone. Her anger and annoyance dropped the moment she spoke with utter honesty. "The Doctor's 909 right now which means somewhere along the way we lose him for nearly two hundred years and even then the versions who see him again aren't us. That means...we lose him. Period. So I want to make damn sure that it doesn't happen."

"Yeah but we also have to be very careful. Remember what River said about interfering with the future?" Amy's reminder didn't make any positive effect.

"With all due respect, I could give less of a crap about timelines right now. If I can stop the Doctor's death then I will. Everything else be damned." Avalon stepped away only to get a sensation that she was being watched...or rather they were being watched. She turned around, eyes keenly flickering from one tree to the next.

"What?" Lena inched closer to the trio.

"I thought I just...I don't know," Avalon shook her head. She was being paranoid...but for a good reason.

"I've been here before!" They all heard the Doctor's cry as he bolted from the TARDIS into the woods, leaving the others to exchange a quick look amongst each other before running after him.

"What do you mean you've been here before?" Amy called since she was the closest behind the Doctor.

"As in, I've been to this planet before!" the Time Lord repeated himself. He had his sonic held out as far his arm would stretch. "It was a desert planet, predominantly. But now it's sprouted life, grew foliage!"

"I thought that would be a good thing?" Rory's statement turned more into a question considering they were running for some reason, not to mention the Doctor looked panicky.

The Doctor came to a skidded stop, making Amy crash into his back while the others had to do the same skid to stop. "I came here last year in the planet's history. There was an indigenous species: humanoids. Now there isn't."

"Okay, we see the problem," Avalon cleared her throat and looked to the side.

"I think the entire ecosystem of this planet changed in a hurry and it had horrible consequences," the Doctor looked out in despair at the environment.

"Okay but...this path," Lena pointed at one single clear path between two trees, "It looks man-made."

"Made by something," the Doctor corrected as he moved to her side. He stared at the long pathway and wondered what could be waiting at the end.

"You do realize that's the trap, right?" Amy's question meant nothing to him.

"Obviously," he shrugged. "It's also a trap for me. Very flattering, actually."

"You're an egomaniac," Avalon rolled her eyes. Of course he'd appreciate a trap specifically made for him. "We have to go. You have no idea what's waiting for you."

"Well then, the only way to find that out is to go down the path." The Doctor fixed his jacket and started walking on the path, not leaving much of a choice for the others but to follow.

As they went further down, they started to discover corpses of different aliens...very powerful, very old alien corpses. The Doctor presumed they'd been drained since there were no physical injuries like stabs or bullets. The more they walked, the more corpses they would discover.

"Okay, maybe we need to stop," Lena said after discovering their tenth corpse. "It's obvious these creatures followed the same coordinates and got themselves killed. Big brother…"

"There's an energy signature nearby," the Doctor was following his sonic again, though he admitted to himself he was beginning to get a little nervous as well. They'd gone quite the way already and so far all they'd seen were corpses. Whoever wanted him here must be powerful and clever. Not a good combination if you're the bad guy.

"And you want to keep going," sighed Amy.

"Well, best way to uncover a trap is to run into it!"

"Who taught you to think this way?" Avalon asked with a frown. She followed closely behind him but bumped into his back when he abruptly stopped.

"What the hell is that?" Rory was the first one out of the companions to see what the Doctor had found.

It was a large, silver and metal craftship...least it looked like it was. It was on its side, indicating it had to have crashed or something along those lines. Smoke was still billowing from it.

The Doctor put his sonic away and stepped closer to it, trying to inspect any obvious markings from it. He found one protruding triangle shape on a side that was glimmering blue. The Doctor raised his hand and let it hover over the triangle, confirming that it was for someone to press their palm on it.

"Okay, so this is probably the trap," Lena stared at the craft with a deep scowl.

"I think there might be something inside of it, actually," the Doctor lowered his hand to his side. "Well, I never could resist pressing a big mysterious button."

"Oh no!" Avalon exclaimed. "You cannot be seriously thinking about just putting your hand on that weird triangle thing!"

"Yeah, Doctor, isn't there a better way of figuring out what this is?" Rory eyed the glimmering triangle with wear. It was begging to be pressed which, in turn, spoke a lot about the party responsible for this trap. They seem to know the Doctor very well.

"What if this is what happened to the corpses out there?" Amy jerked a thumb over her shoulder. "They came here, pressed that button and got the life drained out of them?"

"Well then, we'll just have to find out-" the Doctor reached a hand for the triangle, when Avalon latched onto it.

"-don't you dare you stupid man!" she shouted and pulled him back.

"Ow! Avalon stop this!"

"No! I won't let you touch that thing!"

"You're on one extra today, you know that!?"

Avalon successfully pushed him away from the craft and positioned herself right in front of the glimmering triangle. "If it means that I'm saving your life, then yeah. C'mon, you're not thinking straight!"

"I am, actually," the Doctor frowned at her. "It just seems like you're hellbent on irritating me today."

"Ditto," she crossed her arms.

The Doctor raised his hands, indicating he was done with her and this situation. He strode towards her and tried pushing her away to press that damn button. However, she once again proved she had strange strength as she curled her arm around the one he was using to reach the triangle and pulled back.

"Should we stop them?" Lena quietly asked Amy and Rory.

"Nah, I think she's on the right one," Amy nodded. "And she's the strongest of us all, no offence Rory."

Rory rolled his eyes.

"Doctor, stop!" Avalon continued but the Doctor pushed through and pressed the button...with Avalon's hand over his. As soon as their hands made contact against the triangle, a light struck and captured them.

"What!?" Amy's eyes bulged. Okay, maybe this hadn't been their best idea after all.

"What's going on!?" Lena moved forwards but Rory yanked her back despite hearing the collective cries from the Doctor and Avalon.

"It was a trap, what else?" Rory groaned.

"I have you now, Doctor!" hissed a new, albeit familiar, voice. "Aaaaall your moments, your many meeeeemories, they all belong to me nooooow! You have so muuuuuuch to remember and now the Scream will neeeeeever be forgotten!"

"Oh my God…" Amy was the first one to see the owner of the voice. "Not again...I thought we were done with them…"

One lone Silence in a white suit stood behind the craft. However, this Silence had the word 'Scream' carved at the top of its elongated head.

"How did - you're supposed to be dead!" Rory spat with the same hatred Amy owned.

"You are none of myyyy concern," the creature curtly retorted.

"You have my sister and my big brother, it is all of our concern," snapped Lena. "You release them right now or the same thing that happened to the other Silence will happen to you!"

"My breeeeethren are dead but I surviiiiive because not even theeeey remembered me," it responded and fairly confused the trio. "You seeeeee, I was very good aaaaat being Silent. But nooooow with the Doctor's memoooories, everyone will know who I aaaaam. Everyone will knoooow who the Scream is."

"Oh, nice, carve your name into your head, then," Amy shivered.

"Enough!" Lena shouted and went for a metal bar lying on the ground, no doubt having broke off the from the craft. "Let go of them!" she brandished the bar at it, but hearing the agonizing screams of her sister and the Doctor made her bravery falter.

"What are you going to do with the memories?" Rory couldn't finish understanding how stealing the Doctor's memories would make the Scream be known...that is until Amy pointed at something inside the craft.

"There's something growing inside of that thing!"

Indeed there was a glowing white light inside the craft, taking the form of a creature but no features could be seen yet.

"...help me…" they heard the quiet, almost frail voice of whatever was inside.

"Did it talk?" Lena held the metal bar tighter in her hand. "Where'd it come from? Where'd it-"

"-thisssss is whyyyy I needed youuu, Doctor," the Scream suddenly went, turning gleefully at the craft. "After all, you aaaaare so very, very old. 909 years. All the tiiiiime and space. All you've seeeeen. You are a legend. Who has moooore memories than youuuu?"

"Wait, are his memories making that happen!?" Amy shook her head fervently. "But Avalon's in the mix...how…" her eyes widened when something new came to mind. She raised her head to the craft, specifically to where the creature was growing inside. "Are they creating that!?"

"Memories are life itself. And I knew that if I had enough of them I could feed this. A machine of my own genius. A memory and engine! All I needed was to find this very special forest."

"Where are you doing?" Rory demanded from the Scream.

"Legend caaaaalls it the Planting. Some miiiiiight call it an organic virus, however. Iiiiit arrives on a plaaaaanet in sapling form. It takes roooooot, then it grows, spreads, covers the entire gloooobe. It's march is irreversible. Then, once iiiiits invasion is complete, it groooooows another sapling. And then it replaces allllll indigenous life there. And that--" the Scream moved up to the craft where the creature was growing, "--iiiiis what's growing insiiiiide here. The next Sapling. I captured it. It waaaaas ready to move on...to propagate the forest oooon its next planet. And it willlllll. But this time there will be a difference. The engines I aaaaaam stealing from those two aaaaare their memories. Pure lifeforce for a neeeeew creation. I'm going tooooo step inside this canister nooooow. My body will be destroooooyed but my mind will endure. Using the energiesssss I will take control of the Sapling. I will find a new planet aaaaand plant myself in the memoriessss of all. I'll cover the entire world. After all, iiiiif you can't turn your back ooooon the Scream, then you can never forget it."

"You are mad!" Lena screamed at the creature. "My sister is in that, you idiot!"

"Yesssss, the Reynolds girl. Kovarian can 'bite it', as you humansssss would say."

"Who the hell is Kovarian?"

"Uuh...guys?" Amy had gotten closer to the craft, careful not to get so close to the Scream. The white light inside the craft had started to die down and showcased a tree-like creature inside. It had legs and arms and a head...like what a baby would have.

"Gooooooodbye pitiful humansssss," the Scream said. He pulled one metal piece off the craft and started climbing into the same spot where the other creature was growing...but he had not yet met a furious Lena Reynolds.

The woman furiously screamed as she ran towards the craft. She started banging her metal bar against it, shattering whatever glass was around. She was only careful not to touch the triangle her sister and the Doctor were trapped by.

"What are youuuuu doing!?" the Scream cried from the inside. "Youuuuu irritating-"

Lena swung the metal bar at his face, knocking the creature to the side of the wall. She then brought it down against him three more times.

"Woah," Amy was stunned.

"Amy!" called Rory. He had begun searching for a weapon of his own and found a metal piece as well, though a bit smaller than Lena's. "Follow her lead!"

Amy quickly looked for a weapon of her own and, thankfully, spotted a piece of what appeared to be part of an engine. "What now!?"

"We break that thing out!" Lena huffed after she finished with the Scream then turned to the area where the creature was inside.

"What!? You want to let the monster out!?" Rory looked at her like she'd lost it.

"Didn't you hear Amy? That thing is part Avalon, part Doctor. It might be the only thing that can save them!" Lena hurried up to the glass and peered inside. The creature had purple pupils that seemed to carry stars inside. That was a bit weird, but still...it was their only hope. "Okay little guy, or girl...if you can hear me, please help us. Help Avalon and the Doctor...or they must just die."

She didn't know if the creature could talk, but she definitely knew that it had understood. Its eyes had seemed to narrow and maybe it nodded its head? "Cover those star eyes," she warned. "Amy! Rory!"

"This could just be the way we all die," Rory said once he had come up next to her.

"Or save us all," Amy added.

"Go!" Lena said then started banging against the other side of the glass. Once Amy and Rory joined in, the glass began to crack until it shattered. They immediately backtracked as the creature started climbing out.

"Oooh, I really hope it doesn't kill us," Rory whispered to Amy while his eyes followed every movement of the creature.

Its entire body was a white shade with tinges of pink around its body. It resembled tree bark but it ultimately looked scared. It wobbled on its feet once it stood up for the first time. It then raised its head at the trio and blinked.

"Please," Lena clapped her hands together. "Please save them...they'll die if you don't...they created you…"

The creature turned its head towards the Doctor and Avalon. The life force was definitely being drained out of them, leaving their skins a bit shriveled. It started walking around them, missing how Lena and the other two slowly stepped in the same direction to see what would happen. Suddenly, it slammed both its hands against the triangle - albeit pushing both Avalon's and the Doctor's hands further inside - and shattered it. The energy trapping the two disappeared and down they went.

"Oh thank God!" Lena breathed a sigh of relief and ran towards her sister. "Avalon!"

"Doctor!" Amy went for the Time Lord. Rory ran up afterwards and examined the two's bodies from where he stood. "They're returning to normal, look."

Avalon's and the Doctor's skin were returning to normal indeed. In a matter of minutes, it was as if nothing happened to them...well…

"Oooooow my hand!" Avalon whimpered as she opened her eyes. "My hand's broken!"

"Ow, blimey, mine too," the Doctor sat upright and crinkled his nose at his right hand. "That's quite some strength…"

"Avalon!" Lena hugged her sister tightly. "Oh thank God you're okay! I was so scared-"

"-yeah, and you beat the crap out of that alien," snickered Amy. "That was good!"

"Alien? What alien?" the Doctor frowned at the ginger, making Amy immediately stop laughing.

"The Scream, what else?"

"The what?"

Amy made a face then glanced at Rory and Lena. Was he actually being serious?

"Why can't...why can't I remember where we are?" Avalon stared at the pink forest in honest confusion. "Or...or my Mum? Oh my God, I can't remember my Mum!"

"Okay, what's going on?" Rory bent down in front of the two. "Doctor, do you remember why we're here?"

"Well, there was a trap...and then...lots of light, but, um...I was fighting something...a big, um…" but the man trailed off as he too couldn't remember.

"Oh, this is bad," Amy started getting up from the ground. She looked at the craft. "It must have made them forget some things."

They then started hearing a groan coming from the craft. Golden energy mixed with the same white light from before now covered the Scream when it climbed out. He seemed like somebody on fire. "Doctor! What haaaaave you done to meeee!? Yourrrr memories! They burrrrrn! The Sapling haaaas the resssst of the memories!"

"Saplings?" frowned Rory but then he looked over and saw the creature that'd rescued the Doctor and Avalon. "Ooh...that...Sapling…"

The Sapling, in turn, just blinked like a confused child would.

"Give themmmm to meeeee!" the Scream demanded but Amy hurriedly put herself in front of the Sapling, making Rory nearly lose it.

"Amy! Don't do that!"

Amy extended her arms and raised her head as the Scream came towards them. "You are not touching it - him...I mean...oh I don't know if it's a girl or a boy. Either way, you're not touching them!"

"Oh that's who we were fighting," the Doctor pushed himself up to his feet. "Right, um, run back to the TARDIS?"

"Works for me," Lena pulled Avalon up by her good hand. "C'mon!"

The Doctor led the run with Lena and Avalon right behind him. Rory pulled Amy - who then pulled the Sapling creature - after them and ran for dear life.

The Scream cried for them to stop and started firing jets of white energy at them.

"What the hell are those!?" Avalon ducked before one of them burned the top of her head off.

"Memory energies!" the Doctor exclaimed. "He stored them all up in that gizmo of his but when Lena banged it up, half of the energies went to it and the other half to the, um...Sapling!"

"That machine sucked out my memories!?" Avalon screamed. "And now it has them!?"

"Unfortunately, yes!"

"I want them back!"

"Priorities, Ava!"

The chase to the TARDIS was a long one, but not something they hadn't done before. The Doctor was the first to reach the blue box and hastily opened the door for the others to get in. "C'mon! C'mon! C'mon!"

Lena and Avalon went in first.

"It's still coming, Doctor!" Rory looked over his shoulder to see the Scream close on their tails.

"Out of my way," Avalon practically pushed the Doctor to the side as she re-emerged from the TARDIS.

"What - hey!"

Avalon ignored him as she aimed a blaster in her good hand. Her eyes narrowed once she had her target in perfect sight. She pulled the trigger and fired a deep red energy that hit the Scream square in the chest. Its body was thrown a good distance away, alive, but injured nonetheless.

"In! In! In!" the Doctor then pulled her inside and made a run for the console.

"Where'd you get that from?" Rory was quick to take the blaster from Avalon.

"River Song gave it to me," Avalon smirked. "I really like that woman. She gets me."

"Nooo!" Rory waved the blaster in the air. "You are not keeping this!"

"It's what saved your ass!"

The TARDIS gave a light jolt as it sprung into space, bringing them all to decent safety. There and then, everyone gave a collective sigh of relief.

"That was close…" the Doctor rubbed his forehead.

"I told you it was a trap!" Avalon stormed up to him, forgetting about her blaster for the moment. "But you wouldn't listen!"

"Oh, so now it's my fault!?" the Doctor turned to face her smaller figure.

"YES!" she shouted. "You literally took us there! You led us down the path! You--"

"--if I hadn't then it just would've found another way to bring us there!"

"Oh, so you were just saving the guy the the trouble? Really smart."

"HEY!" Amy clapped her hands to get their attention. If she didn't cut in, she was sure they would've gone for hours like this. "Look, it happened and that's that but I think you're forgetting about something else that happened." The Doctor and Avalon both gave her the same puzzled looks. She groaned and pointed to the Sapling creature standing at the doorway.

The Sapling was staring at the place, eyes flickering from one part of the console to the next. Although the more one would study it, the more one would realize the heaviness that sat in the creature's eyes.

"Oh," the Doctor shook his head, snapping him out of his stupid argument. Amy was right. They needed to focus on something much more important.

"What is it?" Avalon quietly asked.

"Oh, Ava. 'It' is my least favorite third-person, singular neuter pronoun. 'It' is the magic word that enables every grubby little tyrant for a million years in any direction to turn people into things," the Doctor turned to the creature. "He. Clearly, he's a he." But then he paused and looked at the creature again. "You are a 'he' right?"

The Sapling seemed confused yet scared at the same time. "...can I go away and think about it?"

"Talks," Lena blinked. "He talks…"

"He, yes, I'm a 'he'," the Sapling said after a moment. Well, his voice was a bit lower. "And you…" he pointed one finger to the Doctor and moved it between him and Avalon, "...you are my progenitors."

"Excuse me?" Avalon raised an eyebrow.

"Means we're...well...we created him," the Doctor said slowly, not really wanting to look at her right now. His face felt a bit warm.

As soon as Avalon got it, she felt her face warm up too.

"Oh! I get it!" Lena exclaimed happily. "You guys had like a cosmic plant baby!"

"Lena!" went both Avalon and the Doctor in unison.

"He's not really...like...yours...is he?" Rory asked more quietly after a moment. "Looks nothing like you, for starters."

"It's not always about looks, Rory," sighed the Doctor. "Especially when there's a Time Lord in the mix. My memories and Avalon's memories created him."

"I have your memories," the Sapling spoke slowly, almost sounding cautious since they were all debating the validity of his origins. "I think I know everything about you both. Hello…"

A grin came to the Doctor's face. Okay, that may have sounded like him. "Hello!"

The Sapling almost gave a smile, but he noticed Avalon's weary face on him. "You do not believe..."

"Well," Avalon rubbed her arm nervously. "I mean, it's technically like...I'm your mother...but...I'm not really. I mean...I can't have a kid. Much less with the likes of him!"

The Doctor took great offence when she jerked a thumb his way. "Oi!"

"What?" she frowned. "No offence, but it takes more than a machine to get me to have a kid with you, alright?"

"I don't quite like that tone," he turned to her, once again igniting the fuel for another argument. "Sounds a bit condescending."

Avalon snorted. "Oh c'mon, you wear bow ties and a fez! Seriously? You don't get this--" she gestured at herself, "--so easily."

"I'll have you know that I have a rakish charm!" the Doctor argued. "Not to mention that I'm a Time Lord! I'm the scourge of Gallifrey! I'm hot stuff!"

"Ha!" Avalon genuinely laughed. "Now that was funny!"

"Oh God just get a room already," Amy groaned and pulled them apart. She completely missed Rory's disapproving look for her words. "We can't argue about this when it's already done. Congratulations, you're parents. Deal with it."

"Easy for you to say! You didn't just conjure up a genocidal tree child with some alien!" Avalon was quick to point out, and it was a fairly good point. It was also the point that made the Doctor realize she was scared. And instead of helping her, he was arguing with her.

"I'm scared."  The admission did not come from Avalon, however. All eyes turned to the Sapling. His star eyes gazed at the group sadly, and yet feebly like a child would. "Mother is right. My sole purpose is to destroy. I don't want to destroy a world."

Avalon's face softened after making her own realization. The Sapling sounded like her little brother, a child, stuck in the body of a destroyer.

The Sapling looked over his shoulder, towards the closed doors. "He'll come looking for me, won't he? The Scream?"

"I'm afraid so," the Doctor hated to admit because it was just going to make the child more afraid.

"I have the memories of a Time Lord and my genetic programming predisposes me towards genocide. I am the most dangerous weapon in the universe. The safest thing you could do is destroy me right now. Before I grow."

"Oooh...my heart…" Lena almost whimpered as she looked at Avalon and the Doctor. "We can't turn him away. You won't, will you?"

"Of course not," the Doctor walked up to the Sapling and gently turned him around. "We don't destroy. At all. You're not going anywhere, mister."

The Sapling wanted to smile but he looked around the Doctor, towards Avalon as if waiting for her to say the opposite.

"Oh God," sighed Avalon. "This is seriously the weirdest thing that's ever happened to me. No, dear Sapling, you will not go anywhere. Apart from the fact you now own a good part of my memory, you are...me…" the last part was a bit strained, mind you, but reasonable. "We don't destroy. But don't touch my journal. I assume you know what that is, right?" The Sapling nodded his head, though now there was a clear smile on his face. "Good. Now Rory, can you please fix my hand? It's very much broken."

Rory nodded. "Yeah. Most normal thing I can do right now. Come."

Avalon walked after Rory, but her gaze lingered on the Sapling until she disappeared.

"Is he right, big brother?" Lena asked afterwards. "Is the Scream coming again?"

"Yes, but... I'm sure by the time he finds us...we'll have a plan." The Doctor really hoped he was right because they already had a lot to deal with as it was.

"That's, uh, not very reassuring," Amy pointed out.

"All we have so far, Pond."

"Is it safe for me to go home, then?" Lena asked a very good question. In fact, it made her wonder if she should tell her father about this so that he knew not to come home either.

Luckily, though, the Doctor seemed to have a plan for that.

~0~

"There we go, all good now," Rory gave Avalon a smile after finishing up bandaging her broken hand. He got up from his seat next to Avalon and returned the bandages to a cupboard. He'd gotten himself familiarized with the infirmary almost as soon as he'd arrived to the TARDIS.

He was a nurse, after all.

"How long will it take to heal?" Avalon ruefully stared at her hand. She hated that her healing abilities only extended to internal issues. A cold? No problem. One broken bone? Actual problem.

"About 3 weeks or so."

"What?" she frowned then started pouting at the idea she'd have to wear the stupid bandage for a full month.

"Hey, you wanted to be heroic and stop the Doctor from pushing that triangle," Rory reminded, rather like a parent who'd told their child not to do something.

"Fat lot that did," Avalon mumbled. "I'm a mother."

"It's not that bad…"

"Until you have your own tree child, you don't get to opiniate."

Rory bobbed his head. That was fair.

"How we doing?" the Doctor poked his head into the room, really looking like nothing had happened today.

"Great," Avalon raised her bandaged hand with a sour smile. "I get to wear this for a whole month!"

"You're welcome by the way," Rory threw her a sarcastic glance.

"Thank you, Rory," Avalon used her sweetest smile for him but all Rory did was go 'mhm' and leave the room.

"Just so you know, I had to put a shield around your family's home," the Doctor informed Avalon afterwards. Seeing her alarmed face, he quickly added, "It's actually highly unlikely that the Scream will go there when it needs the Sapling. Still, just a precaution."

"Great," Avalon sighed. "How will Lena explain that to Dad?"

"The shield? Ah, don't worry about that. Completely invisible. It'll keep out any Scream, any Silence, pretty much anything related to this species."

"Well, thanks," Avalon leaned back in her seat. Her fingers seemed to awkwardly fumble with each other until she was able to string together the words she wanted to say in one go. "What, um, what's going to happen to...the Sapling? Will he hurt us?"

The Doctor didn't seem to think about it too much before he shook his head. That had to mean he was certain, right? Avalon wanted to think so.

"He's a child, Ava. I know it's weird, but...he really is just a child."

"But not an ordinary one," she quietly pointed out for many obvious reasons.

"Yes," he agreed. With a sigh, he took Rory's seat next to hers. "I know it's odd, everything that happened but...you know that I would never keep anyone or anything who could hurt you - you, Amy and Rory."

"But what the Scream said about him... he's supposed to destroy worlds…"

"Ava, you know very well that no one is born ready to destroy worlds. I believe that if we raise the Sapling with all the right morals, he will do a lot of good in this world."

Avalon could agree that logic made sense. Still, it left a few other questions still toggling in her head. Rather awkward ones. "Is he really...ours?" she forced herself to ask eventually. "Because...well...he's a tree."

The Doctor cleared his throat with the same awkwardness. "Genetically speaking, no he's not ours. But we did make him. We...gave him life. Am I explaining it right?"

"I'm blushing so maybe," she chuckled.

The Doctor could smile at that. "Our lives, our memories... that's what created him. So, technically, he is ours."

"Just not genetically," Avalon finished in hopes of finally understanding this whole mess. When the Doctor nodded, she sighed in relief. "Okay. Great. I mean not great but, you know…"

"I understand," the Doctor assured her that her thoughts were not misplaced. He got it. It was weird, it wasn't at all what someone would want.

Avalon shook her head, as if doing that would get rid of everything. The Doctor took pity of her, and then quickly threw that out because if she were to find out who actually felt pity...she'd kill him.

"It's not that bad," he tried an alternative instead.

Avalon snorted, however, and gave him a crazed look. "Of course not for you! God knows all the weird things you've done."

"I've actually fathered and mothered another child."

Avalon froze. Her big blue eyes blinked wide in alarm. "Excuse me?"

"Yeah, not by choice though," the Doctor rubbed the back of his neck. "We got stuck in some war site and they forced my hand into this machine that took a skin sample and...created a person from it, a woman. She was my daughter."

"What…?" Avalon stared at him as if he would take it back, but of course he wouldn't. "Oh my God. You are...truly unbelievable."

The Doctor could only laugh. "Yeah. Donna Noble would say the same thing."

"Who?"

"She was my friend at the time when this happened."

"So...so you've got a daughter, then? Like, from a machine too?"

"Yes, I do."

"Where is she?"

"Oh, you know, probably knocking about somewhere in the world."

"What - you say it so calm like that?"

"It's a long story, Ava. I used to think Jenny was dead until she popped in one day telling me she wasn't. She travels on her own."

"Doctor, in all honesty, what the hell?" Avalon had to laugh at him. "You are so…" her hands moved back and forth to make a gesture but she couldn't come up with the right word to describe him.

"Yeah, yeah," the Doctor shook his head. "Glad to see you're doing better then."

"Oh no, but this makes me feel just a bit better. Now if this--" she raised her broken hand, "--could go away then maybe I could laugh a little more."

"How bad is it?"

"Not bad, really. it's just a have to wear her about 3 weeks or so. Which is kind of annoying for someone like me who likes to use her hands a lot."

"Let's see what we can do about that, then," the Doctor took her broken hand into his, startling her but overall confusing her.

"Rory said it'd be good in 3 weeks. It's annoying but I think I'll survive," Avalon shrugged, though that didn't seem to be good enough for the Doctor.

"Nah. We can speed that up. Mind you, you've got some protruding veins." He was studying the bright blue veins most visible on her wrist, on the same side of her palm.

"Thank you for that," she sarcastically smiled.

The Doctor rolled his eyes. "I just meant I never noticed them." He gently ran a finger over them, definitely feeling more than the average human would tend to but Avalon certainly wasn't human...and she definitely wasn't average.

And there went his thoughts again.

It was frustrating, really, that he couldn't do one simple task involving her that wouldn't end up with him thinking about her in another light. Like, right now, her skin was so smooth and….warm? He could maybe run his fingers over her skin for God knew how much longer.

Avalon really tried ignoring the tingle that had ran down her back after feeling his fingers over her skin. It was stupid. It was definitely never going to happen but...there it was.

A golden energy emitted from the Doctor's hands, wrapping its tendrils around Avalon's hand for a few seconds before it died. It was like it didn't even happen. Avalon blinked as the Doctor let go of her hand. She turned her hand over and flexed it.

"There you go," the Doctor smiled at her. "Good as new."

"That was pretty cool," Avalon had to admit. She put her hands on her lap and smiled back. "Thank you."

"Of course," the Doctor got up from his chair but Avalon called his name before he started to leave.

"My memories - the ones the Sapling has - will I ever get them back?" There was a terrible fear in her eyes when she realized those memories may be lost forever. "Because, because I can't remember Emmalina...at all. Like, I try to picture her but she's...gone."

The Doctor took a seat again and looked her directly in the eyes. "I don't know how to get them back right now but I promise you that I'll restore them. On my lives, I swear I will."

Avalon nodded her head. Of course she believed him. She always did.

[mca-attack21]

The Parting of Ways

This imagine is based off of Episode 13 of season 1 with the 9th Doctor and the reader. It can be read as part two of “Bad Wolf” or as a stand alone imagine. Enjoy! Word Count: 1920  This is my Masterlist!

You were still trapped on the Dalek ship. But you didn’t lose hope, after all the Doctor had told you he was coming for you. And to date he had given you every reason to believed him. This however did not mean that you were not scared. On the contrary, you were terrified. You had already seen one Dalek kill hundred’s of trained soldiers and now you were in a room with thousands of them. They questioned you about the Doctor, asking you to predict his next move. And then they made you watch as they bombed the TARDIS. You watched it disappear into nothing. 

You started to lose hope when you found yourself inside the TARDIS. One of the Daleks had been beside you and aimed his ray at the Doctor. “Get Down!” you yelled and he ducked just in time. Jack quickly fired at the Dalek killing it instantly.

After the shot, the Doctor rushed towards you, hugging you tightly. “I feel like I haven’t seen you in years.” you breathed taking in his familiar scent.

“I told you I’d come for you” he whispered.

“Never doubted it” you assured.

“ I did. You alright?” he asked pulling away to look you over.

“Yeah. And you?” you asked.

“Not bad, I’ve been better.” he said as he stepped towards the Dalek remembering that this whole thing was far from over.

“Hey, don’t I get a hug?” Jack said from the console.

“Oh come here” you answered, arms open.

“I was talking to him,” Jack joked before pulling you close. “Welcome home”

“I thought I was never going to see you again” you replied.

“You were lucky, that was just a one shot wonder. I drained the gun of all its’ power supply. Now it’s just a piece of junk,” he said referring to the shot that took out the Dalek as his tossed the gun aside.

“So what do we do now Doctor? There are thousands of them out there and we could barely take down one?” you asked.

“We go see what they want” he said before exiting the TARDIS,

“Doctor they’ll kill you,” you screamed running after him.

And they tried, all blasting at him simultaneously. But it was of no use. He had a force field around him. After a long conversation the doctor had discovered that the emperor of Daleks had survived the Time War and used humans off of earth to create a new line of Daleks. The Doctor summoned you and Jack and went back into the TARDIS. He needed a plan. There were so many Daleks and so little time. The Doctor was trying to create a Delta Wave to destroy all of them at once. But the problem was that they were already headed to the ship and these things take time.

Jack had created a defense plan and was preparing to put it in action. He went over to the Doctor saying “This has been fun,” he said.

You caught him off guard, cutting him off with- “Don’t do that! Don’t act like this is goodbye we are with the Doctor. He’ll figure it out in the end.”

He put his hands on your face and looked into your eyes, “You, Y/f/n Y/l/n, are worth fighting for” and then he kissed you.

He went back to the doctor, “I wish I never met you, Doctor I was much better off as a coward,” he said before kissing him. “See you in hell then,” he replied before running off.

As you and the Doctor were finishing off the wiring for the wave, you spoke up, “Suppose-”, but then you stopped. You knew if there was any other way out of this the Doctor would have already came up with it.

“Suppose what?” he asked.

“Oh nothing, I was just thinking that it would be nice if we could just go back in time and prevent this from happening. But I know that isn’t how it works” you answer.  

“There is something the TARDIS could do. It could take us away. We could leave. Let history run its course. We could go somewhere else. Marbella in 1989?” he said avoiding your eyes.

“Yeah, but you’d never do that. You couldn’t leave all of these innocent people here to die. That’s not who you are.” you answered with certainty.

“No, but you could ask. It never even occurred to you, did it? “ he replied

You were silent for a moment, “I choose this. I choose you. Always have, always will. I know what I signed up for, saving the universe comes with risks. And I wouldn’t change any of it.”

Just then buzzing went off. The delta wave was officially online. It was just a matter of time before it was ready. The Doctor rushed over to the computer to see how long it needed. All hope vanished from his face.

“It’s bad isn’t it?” you questioned.

“It is bad, but if we go in the TARDIS I can use that energy to speed up the process,” he said excitedly as he ran inside you right behind him, “stay here and hold this down, I’m going to go restart the connection,” he said before leaving.

As soon as he exited the TARDIS he dropped his façade. The truth was that there was no way out on this one. Which is why he had to send you home, he had to know you were safe. That way his life would not end in vein.

When the TARDIS started moving you realized what he had done. You ran towards the door trying to open it. You didn’t know how to stop it. You were pounding on the door when a hologram popped up.

It was the Doctor:

“Y/n. If you are seeing this message we must be in danger. And I mean fatal. I am dead or about to be in a second’s time. And that’s okay. I hope it is a good death. I made a promise to keep you safe and that is what I am doing. The TARDIS is taking you home. I bet you are fussing and moaning now. Typical. But hold on and just listen a bit more. The TARDIS can never return for me. Emergency Program One means I’m facing an enemy that should never get their hands on this machine. So this is what you should do. Let the TARDIS die. Let the old box gather dust. No one other that you can open it, no one will ever notice it. Let her become a strange little thing on a street corner. And if you want to remember me you can do one thing, just one. Have a good life. Do that for me Y/n”

The TARDIS stopped and he was gone. You peeked outside to see that you were in fact home. But that was the thing, the doctor had never asked you about your family. He hadn’t known that he was the closest thing to family you had had in a long time.

You started to walk away trying to clear your head and figure out what you could do. That was when you saw it. The words BAD WOLF. They had been everywhere, you had thought the were a warning but maybe not. They were in the future too, with the Doctor 200,000 years in the future. That is when it hit you. When the Slitheen tried to open the the wormhole that would collapse the earth. The Doctor had hit a button that opened a panel into the heart of the TARDIS. The TARDIS was telepathic, she could hear you and take you to him. There is no way she would want her Doctor to suffer.

After hours of trying different buttons and levers and every possible combination of the two (okay maybe not every combination). You finally figured it out. The door slammed shut and the panel opened you looked into her and willed her to return to him. The light overtook all of your senses. All of time and space was coursing through your veins. You didn’t even hear the TARDIS lift off.

-------------------Meanwhile--------------------

Everything was ready, all the Doctor had to do was pull down the lever and there would be no more Daleks. He would be killing billions of innocent humans, but if he didn’t every race would be in danger. He had no choice.

“You really want to think about this,” he urged the emperor as the room started to fill with Daleks, “I pull this trigger and no more Daleks.”

“I want to see you become like me. The Doctor  the great exterminator. What are you coward or killer?” the emperor snapped.

The Doctor hesitated. When did he become so much like the things he was fighting against? “Coward. Coward any day” he answered preparing himself for what he was sure would follow.

“Then you will be exterminated,” the Emperor spoke.

Just then the TARDIS started to materialize. The Doctor didn’t understand. He turned to look at it and was taken aback when the doors open. He had to shield his eyes from the light. It was blinding.

“What have you done?” he demanded as the light faded ever so slightly.

“I did what I had to do. It was the only way to save you,” you answered

“You looked into the time vortex. Y/n- no one is meant to see that. Not even me.” he cried realizing how dire the situation was.

“This-Is-An-Abomination” on of the Daleks screeched.

“Exterminate” another one said as it tried to blast you. You merely returned the energy and looked at your Doctor.

“This is what was meant to happen. It is always what happens. I know that now. This is how I become Bad Wolf, I’ve lead myself here. To this. To save you.”

“Y/n you have to stop this now! You’ve got the entire vortex running through your head. You’re going to burn!” he pleaded with you.

“It will all be worth it as long as you are safe. I can end this, the Dalek’s can be stopped once and for all.”

“You cannot hurt me I am immortal” the Emperor exclaimed

“Nothing can ever truly be immortal. Everything has a weakness. I can see the whole of time and space. I can see every atom of you existence of your essence and I can divide them. Ending the time war once and for all,” you say as the Daleks begin to disappear around you.

The Doctor took a cautious step towards you, “Okay Y/n, you’ve done it, I’m safe now. The Daleks are gone. Now let go of the vortex energy.”

“How can I let go of this? I can save him. I can-” you resurrected Jack before gripping your head, “but why does it hurt?”

“Nobody is meant to harness that much power. You have to let go or it will kill you,” he pleaded.

“I can see everything. All that is, all that was. All that ever could be. It’s beautiful and terrifying” you whimpered starting to lose control.

“That is what I see all the time. Doesn’t it drive you mad?” he asked steadying you.

“I’m sorry, i’m so sorry,” you struggled.

“It’s okay, come here” he said kissing you and extrapolating the Vortex power until your body went limp in his arms. He returned the power to the TARDIS and then carried you to the Med-bay. He had no idea if you were going to be okay or not. Nothing like this had ever happened before. And just to make things worse he could start to feel the regeneration energy coursing through him. So he tapped into your mind.

“Y/n when you wake up. I will be different. You see- timelords have this little trick we do to escape death. I’ll still be the same doctor just different. And I just wanted to say that you and me we were fantastic. Truly fantastic!”

And then it happened he screamed as every cell in his body died. And he morphed into the new doctor just before passing out on the ground beside you.

[sunniebelle]

A Day To Remember

The Doctor takes Rose to a special place to remember an important event in their time together.  

Ten x Rose

Note: A Birthday gift for @creativebec! Hope you had a very special day, friend! (Hope you don’t mind me taking the liberty of making Rose’s favorite flower the same as your own :)) Happy Birthday!

Rose had no idea where the Doctor was taking her. When she had entered the console room that morning, she was greeted with a mysterious, pleased-with-himself smile gracing his handsome face. He didn’t ask his normal question of where she wanted to go, simply began typing in coordinates on the computer.

She had watched from the jumpseat with some amusement as the Doctor went about his complicated, yet familiar dance around the console, pressing buttons, pulling levers and turning knobs, sending them hurtling through the vortex.

She felt a gentle thud as the TARDIS landed a few moments later. Rose hopped off the jump seat and asked, “Where are we?”

She looked over at her brown pin-stripe suited Doctor leaning against the console, hands in his pockets and a smug, yet excited smile on his lips, evidently waiting for her to move to the door and find out for herself where they were.

Rose looked at the door, feeling the familiar excitement and thrill of seeing a new place coarse through her veins, quickening her breath and heartbeat.

Her smile grew larger as she skipped to the door, threw it open and stared.

They had landed in an enormous garden that seemed to stretch for miles—and quite possibly it did. There didn’t at first appear to be a roof, but when she looked closer, she realized that the sky had a slightly latticed look to it, as though there were an invisible ceiling above them. She wondered what planet they might be on, but the thought flitted away before she could voice it.

She stepped out onto velvety-soft green grass and took a deep breath of the air. It was perfumed with the lovely scent of dozens upon dozens of flowers. Though it was a bit of a heady scent, the soft wind swiftly carried the smells away before it became too much.  

Trees stretched to the sky all around them, the variety widely varied and the colors painting the landscape in vivid shades. Flowers in every shape, size and color imaginable danced in the gentle breeze that brushed past them. Her jaw dropped in amazement, her eyes wide as she tried to take in the exquisite beauty before her.

Looking down at the ground, Rose noticed that there were small round paving stones placed strategically, leading into different areas of the garden through trails in the foliage. She glanced back to see the Doctor standing in front of the TARDIS, hands in his pockets, his coat shifting slightly around his legs in the breeze.

He moved toward her, took her hand in his and laced their fingers together.

“Come on. I’ve got a surprise for you,” he said softly, his face close enough to hers that she could feel the warmth of his breath on her face. He squeezed her hand and she followed him as he struck out on one of the stone paths to their right.

She wanted to ask what the surprise and occasion was, but he began a rambling lecture about the plant-life around them. She listened as they walked through the paths about this planet that had enjoyed the plants on Earth and other planets so much, they created a sanctuary nursery to house any and every variety of plant.

The flowers and plants they passed were beautiful and Rose couldn’t help but continually turn her head this way and that, trying to take in all the marvelous sights around her.

She could tell that the place was teeming with life, having heard multiple birdsong calls and more than a few hums of insects flitting about the plants.

They walked slowly down several different paths, the Doctor’s hand never leaving hers. His mouth didn’t stop either as he talked about any plant that seemed to catch her eye. This gave her the distinct impression that he was watching her more than what was around them. She couldn’t help the smile that appeared at this thought.

Several minutes later, on a path that appeared to have quite a few tropical plants native to Earth, he stopped her and focused on one of her favorite flowers. Rose had told him once that although she really liked her namesake, she got annoyed when men tried to give her roses for special occasions instead of being creative.

Rose looked at the plants in front of her and smiled widely, knowing that something was up for the Doctor to have brought her to a place that housed a huge variety of her favorite type of flower. Frangipani flowers in every conceivable color, danced in the breeze and sent the creamy peach-like smells drifting around her.

She knelt before a bush of bright pink ones and simply stared at the beautiful star-shaped flowers.

The Doctor reached down to grasp one of the flowers, but she stopped him saying, “Wait, Doctor, aren’t they poisonous?”

“These have been specially bred, so no, they are not poisonous. The ones on your home plant are though, so be careful,” he said, giving her that special look that could always make her giggle because he knows how jeopardy-friendly she is.

He plucked a pink frangipani from its stem and gently wove it into her hair. Her skin tingled where his fingers touched her temple and she unconsciously leaned into his hand when he cupped her cheek. Her eyes fluttered shut as his thumb caressed the apple of her cheek.

“Are you going to tell me why we came here, Doctor?” she asked softly a few moments later, her eyes searching his face.

“I forget sometimes that being on the TARDIS, it can be hard for you to keep track of the date in linear time.”

“Oh, God, Doctor! Did I forget my own birthday? Mum’s gonna kill me—” she was cut off by his sudden laughter and furrowed her brow at him, feeling puzzled.

“No, Rose. It’s not your birthday. Do you think I would risk another slap from your mother by forgetting to take you home for something so important?”

Rose laughed this time at the look of horror on his face and the way he rubbed the cheek that had been viciously slapped so long ago.

She reached up and took the hand that was rubbing his face and linked their fingers. “Then why?” she asked.

“Three years.”

She shook her head slightly, trying to figure out the significance from those words.

“It’s been three years since we stood on a busy London street, after having watched the Earth burn. It’s been three years since I told you about my planet and people dying.” He stepped closer to her, one of his hands once again cradling her cheek in his palm, the other still linked with hers.

“It’s been three years since you said two words that no matter how long I live, I will never, ever forget.”

He stared into her eyes, his own showing awe, joy, fear, and—dare she even think it—love.

She quickly recalled the memory he invoked in her and she smiled at him, remembering the words that had quickly become an oath of allegiance to never leave his side.

“There’s me,” she whispered.

He let out a breath and the warmth of it washed over her face, giving her a pleasant skin-tingling feeling running down her back.

“Yes,” he whispered. “Three years of you running with me, challenging me, helping me to again see the beauty of the universe, reminding me that there is still good in people.” He paused a moment and said, “Sometimes annoying the daylights out of me.” He laughed at her look of sudden irritation.

His voice dropped to a rumbling purr, washing over her and making her feel tingly all over. “And every day of those three years I’ve desperately tried to convince myself that you deserved better than me. I still think that. You, my Rose, my Bad Wolf, my brilliant pink and yellow human, could do so much better than this old, war-torn killer who is the very last of his kind.” He placed a finger over her lips to stop her objections and smiled.

“But I’ve decided to stop running from my feelings, to stop running from you. Rose Tyler, I—” he paused and swallowed hard. “I love you.”

Rose searched his eyes and saw so much raw emotion in them, knew immediately that those words were incredibly hard for him to say aloud. They were the most precious words she thought she had ever heard and felt tears spring to her eyes.

“I love you too, my Doctor,” she whispered.

They moved toward each other simultaneously, their lips meeting in a soft kiss that was tantalizingly sweet.

She had always imagined their first real kiss would be passionate and needy, and although there was no lacking in passion with this kiss, the slow, languid way their lips moved together and the feel of his hand threading into her hair made her wish the kiss would never end.

Her senses were overwhelmed by the scent of him—a mixture of sage, sandalwood, cinnamon and another unidentifiable scent that was just her Doctor—and the heady floral one from their surroundings.

Soon enough the need to breathe forced them apart. Rose stared at her Doctor’s face, so close to hers, her eyes repeatedly drawn to his kiss-swollen lips.

Though they had kissed before, those kisses had been influenced by other forces, such as possession, the fear of almost losing the other or the desire to save the other’s life. This kiss had been filled with so much warmth and promise and love that she knew something had shifted between them.

Rose knew that no matter how short or long of a time they had together, the feel of his lips against hers would always remind her of the day he first uttered those three words that would always be immeasurably precious to her.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ 

Also tagging @doctorroseprompts

[operationrainfall]

Title Woven Developer Alterego Games Publisher Alterego Games Release Date November 15th, 2019 Genre Adventure, Puzzle Platform PC, Nintendo Switch, PS4, Xbox One Age Rating E for Everyone 10+ – Fantasy Violence Official Website

I really wanted to love Woven. After all, I was one of the original backers of the unsuccessful Kickstarter project, and was duly impressed by Alterego Games’ decision to self publish the project afterwards. The premise of Woven was really compelling and different, taking place in a soft world of woolen yarn and fabric that is being invaded by strange mechanical insects. Our hero is a goofy elephant named Stuffy, and he quickly comes across a new friend, a firefly-shaped robot named Glitch. Together, they set out to discover the truth and explore this world, transforming and reweaving Stuffy to scale various obstacles along the way. If only the adventure had lived up to that fantastic premise.

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Woven is the sort of game that would have made my childhood self smile. It plays out like a live action Winnie the Pooh, in a calm and mellow land where all that matters is relaxation and finding flowers. At least at first. Stuffy is a very amicable protagonist, but not the brightest bulb. A fact that is repeatedly referenced by the game’s narrator. The narrator’s tenor sounds very British, and at first I enjoyed how his paired sentences usually rhymed. It does grow old rather quickly though, especially when you realize that the narrator is not gonna help you much with direction. If you get lost at all, he’ll start reminiscing like a grandfather with dementia, talking about the birds in the sky and the fish in the sea. None of which is helpful. Which wouldn’t be a problem, except for the fact that getting lost is a regular occurrence in Woven. Or at least it was for me. I managed to get stuck about 5 minutes into the game, in what would be considered the tutorial area. That’s because the game doesn’t hold your hand much, and trusts you’re clever enough to pick up on the clues in your environment. Sadly, what Woven thinks is plainly evident very rarely is. Case in point, the very first blueprint machine I came across gave no guidance how to operate it. I eventually figured it out, but it was a sign of things to come.

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There’s dozens of blueprint machines spread across Woven’s 5 regions, including meadows, deserts and jungles, and each blueprint gives Stuffy new transformation options. To unlock the blueprint, you play a little musical mini-game by operating mechanical levers to select notes. Though this was confusing initially, I grew to enjoy the mini-game. At first I assumed that each animal form would have set limbs, but you can mix and match after you acquire several, creating bizarre chimeras. Case in point, you can pair Pig legs with Lion arms and a Rhino head. You can even have two different arms or legs simultaneously. Each body part has different capabilities that allow various actions. You’ll need these to solve puzzles and make your way through the game. Though Woven is nominally a linear experience, the world is so wide open it’s easy to not immediately know where to head next. A good example was when I came across a short hilltop ringed with mountains, with a circular passage full of cranky yak creatures. I could stomp my foot to force the Yaks to move, but after moving in a complete circle, I wasn’t sure what to do. I eventually found the solution online in a very helpful playthrough, but it was frustrating being on the cusp of a solution and having no idea where to go next. This was due to the fact many of the puzzles in Woven are time based, but they don’t tell you they are. If a clock had showed up indicating I had a certain amount of time, I would have known to hurry up. And the farther I got in the game, the more complex and active the puzzles got. I much preferred the puzzles that required thinking but not fast reflexes.

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While it’s clearer why you would want to transform Stuffy to progress, it’s less clear how to use color palettes called patterns. You’ll find tons of flowers as you wander about, and by stomping your foot, they’ll open up and allow Glitch to scan them. You can also scan some animals for these, but they rarely sit still, so you’ll either need to be quick or find a way to distract or incapacitate them. Lastly, there’s patches you’ll randomly find on the map to unlock patterns. Patterns do a couple of things. On the one hand, they let you decorate Stuffy at the knitting machines, making him look as fancy or hideous as you please. You might be more surprised to realize you need some for puzzles. An example are giant snakes that block your progress unless you match their pattern. There’s another cool segment where a mechanical spider will pounce on you unless you blend in with the background. I don’t mind using patterns strategically, but it’s very easy to not scan the right one, and then be forced to backtrack until you find it. Some sort or an indicator of where key items resided would have helped, but there’s no such thing. And given the wide open format of Woven, it’s rather easy to get lost and miss the proper patterns. Oh and did I mention there’s more than 100 of them spread across the entire game? Which makes it even more daunting when you manage to pass one without realizing it.

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You may be wondering what Glitch does, and the simple answer is he operates every mechanical device you interact with. He turns on the blueprint machines and knitters, scans items and can also use his light to illuminate dark caves. The little firefly is pretty helpful, and his backstory ties directly into the plot of Woven. You’ll find lots of nodes that reveal bits and pieces of his lost memory as you go. I won’t spoil it, but suffice to say there’s a reason Glitch feels so strongly pulled by the planet’s moon. I wish I could say Stuffy’s backstory was as interesting, but he’s almost an incidental character. He could literally be anything or anybody else, and it wouldn’t change the course of the game. I never knew much about the elephant, other than he was apparently simple, cowardly and loved flowers. It’s not clear how long he’s been around, what he did before Glitch or anything really. He’s just there to progress the story, and that’s a shame, especially since he’s nominally the main character.

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Not everything in the game works poorly. I did find it handy how the different Joy-Con controlled Stuffy and Glitch, respectively. And I appreciated visual prompts indicating what abilities I needed to get past obstacles, and found the camera easy to operate. The problem was primarily with the game’s physics. Woven is a wide open 3D world, but often what seems a clear path forward ends up tripping you up with invisible stage geometry. Bushes often kept me from moving forward, which was awkward. As a fan of platformers, I found this made Woven a lot harder to enjoy, since I was never clear if I could progress or not. Sometimes you do actually need different abilities tied to animal parts, such as jumping or pushing, but you never know in advance. So if I came to an area with a puzzle and had the wrong parts, I would have to backtrack all the way to the nearest knitting machine and reweave my elephant friend. I really think it would have been much easier if Stuffy could fast travel to these, since they’re spaced rather far apart and it’s not very fun walking about. Failing that, I would have loved a mini-map, since that would have cut down how often I got lost in Woven dramatically.

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Visually, Woven has a cute storybook aesthetic. There’s lots of bright colors and soft details. While I have no problem with that, I do have a problem with the graphical fidelity. I will mention I played the Switch version of the game, and from what little research I’ve done, it runs far better on other consoles. I normally don’t complain about things like framerate or the like, and usually find most games I play on Switch run great, but oftentimes the graphics here were muddy and fuzzy. Simply put, this game suffers from Bloodstained syndrome, meaning every other iteration of the game plays better than the one on Nintendo consoles. Which is truly a shame, since this is the perfect sort of all ages game that would otherwise appeal to a lot of Nintendo gamers. Musically the game is frankly dull, and quite muted musically. Sound effects lack punch, and actions often don’t have the proper impact as a result. When Stuffy punches a box out of his way, it just slides quietly out of place. Much like the rest of the game, aesthetically Woven is a very mixed bag.

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While I hate to add onto my other complaints, I have a few more. For one thing, I find it completely awkward how Stuffy always looks at Glitch as he runs forward, contorting his head to follow the firefly everywhere. That’s minor, but a more significant issue relates to the linearity of the game. If you miss any collectibles or achievements, you can’t get them until the next time you play through the game from the beginning. Once you reach a new area, there’s no backtracking, and the game auto saves. So if you’re one of those people that loves to platinum games, best of luck. And finally, while I don’t mind the general lack of combat in the game, it makes it that much more challenging when you have to contend with the final boss.

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Much as I wanted to love Woven, I left the experience quite disappointed. There was promise here, but for whatever reason it wasn’t met. If you don’t mind clumsy physics and very complex and vague puzzles, you might enjoy what’s here. Even then, it’s a hard pill to swallow at $19.99. Though you can beat the game in less than 5 hours, it took me around 9 due to getting lost repeatedly. So at least you’ll get some bang for your buck. This is one of those games I recommend you pick up on a sale. Hopefully Alterego Games has more ideas they can breathe life into in the future, cause I’d honestly like to see them succeed. In the meantime, I’ll lament this tale of an elephant and his firefly buddy.

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[easyreview cat1title=”Overall” cat1detail=”” cat1rating=”1.5″]

Review Copy Provided By Publisher

REVIEW: Woven Title Woven

[lovelyfictional-imagines]

hey nerd. (The Eleventh Doctor x Reader)

In a rut, will get to requests soon, sorry for it taking so long. It’s been hectic, I’m trying to get back into where I was when I started, once I’m cranking them out again I’ll have the full motivation to do these wonderful requests justice. “Hey nerd.” is kind of the reader’s catchphrase, will do a fic on the origins of it. (B/T) means body type.

I’ve gotten new glasses, they remind me of Eleven’s (or Amy’s, I should say), and this was born because of it. I’m not great at this, but I’m working on it. Hope you enjoy!

Until next fic,

- Ashley

Word Count: 1583

           “G’morning.”

           Slurred words in a deeper than normal voice wafted through the bedroom like wind through chimes during (what would’ve been) the wee hours of the morning. (Y/N) shifted a bit in her position, one arm stretched beneath her pillow and the other reaching for his, fingers intertwined as always. Or, at least they would’ve been.

           If he were there.

           Inwardly she groaned, pressing her face into the fabric and huffing loudly in muffled protest to no one in particular. The TARDIS whirred, mechanical sounds like laughter at the human’s reaction.

           “We could get rid of him, eh, Sexy? Just us girls, traveling from time to time, place to place. We don’t really need him, do we?”

           Again, the TARDIS laughed before (Y/N) pulled her head from the feathery depths. Clamoring out of bed quite gracelessly, she sunk to the floor in front of the nightstand. A (S/C) hand covered her face as the other slid up the smooth wood, feeling her way to the top. Deft fingers slithered through scattered books, pencils, and other miscellaneous clutter before closing around a slender piece of plastic. The eyewear was pulled from its perch and into her lap. Using the sleeve of her flannel top, she scrubbed the glass until it was no longer foggy. At last she slid them onto her face.

           Everything shifted into focus, and she figured it was time to find her lanky partner. As she stood, (Y/N) raked her fingers through the mop of (H/C) waves atop her head, ruffling her hair and tying it up lazily. Her legs moved earlier than expected, propelling her before she could start forming a plan for her search. Before she knew it, she was out in the hall, dark room and inviting bed shut off behind her. Stretching her (B/T) arms above her head, standing on her tip toes and elongating her spine until a chorus of various ‘pops’ and ‘cracks’ were heard, and she was satiated enough to begin.

           The first stop was the control room, though of course she wouldn’t find him there. Too predictable, too easy for her Doctor. Basking in the warm light emitted from the strange circles on the walls, she pulled her flannel tighter around her. Normally he’d be here, twisting knobs and pressing buttons and acting like he knew what he was doing. They both knew better, though, and were surprised when he actually did.

           Upon not finding him in the console room, she walked across the room, allowing her fingers to dance over levers and buttons as she passed. Into another part of the vast ship, enjoying the serene silence that came when the Doctor wasn’t around. Though it didn’t take long for serene to evolve into eerie. The halls were dark, and the mechanical hum of the TARDIS and her own breathing were the only sounds she could hear.

           The kitchen was her next stop, simply because that was the door she was brought to. Hushed clanging and mutters were barely audible behind the door, and she smiled. Relief flooded through her, knowing the Doctor was as safe as he could be for the moment, making a mess as always. “Thanks, sexy.” Barely a whisper, expressing gratitude in the way her hand slid over the knob and turned it slowly.

           It was near impossible to stifle her laughter, but somehow (Y/N) managed. In front of her was a gangly man in a dress shirt and bow tie, round glasses tucked tightly against his face, and his floppy hair was messily tucked back as far as it could go, causing it to curl upwards in some places. Flour was everywhere, coating the countertops, various bottles, and his arms and clothes. Thin eyebrows furrowed in concentration as his teeth chewed his lip, all senses focused on a measuring cup he was pouring oil into. With a satisfied smile he tossed the oil into a large bowl which seemed to be where all the flour had gone, along with some eggs and other indistinguishable ingredients. His graceful hands took some measuring spoons and began to measure out a miniscule amount of vanilla extract.

           (Y/N) cleared her throat, causing him to drop the spoons with a loud yelp. They sank into the batter, and the Doctor immediately dove his fingers in after them, fishing them out and holding them behind his back with a sheepish smile as he turned to face her. Faint crimson splotches painted themselves onto his sculpted cheeks, and she felt her own cheeks begin to heat at the curious expression only slightly concealed in his green eyes. As she grew near him, the weight of his gaze made itself apparent as she glimpsed into the bowl.

           “Hey nerd. What’re you up to?”

           Leaning against the cabinet, he looked much cooler than he really was, ruffling his hair and straightening his tie. The dirty spoons were discarded behind him, plopping onto the counter with an odd ‘squish’. He sighed loudly, a tiny, affectionate smile playing on his face. It was all strange, watching him play coy with her for once. Suddenly she found herself unable to form any sensible thought, eyes trained on his mouth and that knowing gleam in his eye.

           “Well I was making you breakfast, as a surprise, but you’ve ruined the surprise part. Now it’ll just be breakfast.” As she slid next to him he turned, bumping her waist with his hip.

           She was back now, grounded as his body brushed hers.

           “You say it like it’s a bad thing.”

           “Breakfast is never a bad thing.”

           Looking down at his progress, she smiled up at him.

           “Need some help?”

           -

           Soon they were sitting at the table together, stacks of waffles in front of them, accompanied by steaming mugs of coffee and tea, jugs of syrup, and plates of fruit. The Doctor scooted his chair next to hers noisily, as part of their routine, until his seat was nearly on top of hers and their elbows brushed every time they moved their arms. (Y/N) giggled at his gleeful expression, watching the sugary substance pour slowly from the container and cover his breakfast. So much for trying to make it healthier.

           They tucked into their meal, both parties sighing in content with the first bite. It was perfect, warm, buttery, unwaveringly sweet, and delicious. Every other bite she would glance at the Doctor, almost choking on her chuckles and waffles when she saw he had already finished and was going in for more. A large hand was on her back, patting in attempt to help somehow, but he was laughing too.

           His entire face broke into that easy smile, emotions almost completely bare in front of her. That wonderfully innocent expression that endeared her to no end, left her breathless, and caused her heart to speed up and slow down simultaneously. God, this man was addictive.

           (Y/N) hadn’t realized she’d been staring until his face was right in front of hers. Dangerously close, noses barely brushing. His presence in front of her was commanding, suddenly, and she couldn’t tear her eyes away from his. Short breaths fell through her parted lips in anticipation, silently pleading with him to close the distance between them. They shared too few of them, in her opinion.

           Instead, he had that dumb smile on his face, completely oblivious to the effect he had on her. Pushing his forehead against hers, he laughed. Nodding slightly toward her face, his fingers came up to adjust his glasses, tapping hers as well.

           “Hey nerd. We match!”

           (Y/N) began cracking up, leaning into him as she laughed harder than she had in weeks. The Doctor wrapped his arms around her, joining in the merriment. Everything else was forgotten about for the time being; they were too distracted with being completely enamored with one another. As the waffles cooled, syrup soaking into them and making them soggy, they watched each other. (Y/N) studied the golden flecks in his eyes, swimming in a sea of emerald, as if they would tell her the secrets of the universe. The Doctor studied her with unbridled intensity, but she refused to shy away.

           His hands found hers, fingertips sliding and studying, as if charting a map of her hands. At last he leaned his head down, bumping her nose with his to subtly tell her to move. A breathy giggle escaped her lips, brushing his and making him chuckle. (Y/N) closed her eyes, but she still felt the weight of his stare as his mouth met hers. Dizzying, dazzling, mind-blowing movements that stole the breath from her lungs every time.

           Every time he kissed her, she felt him give more and more to her. Rigid and restrained movements had eased into these smooth encounters, times where he would throw some of his control to the wind and fall into her. Awkward demeanor tossed aside, and he seemed to be someone else and himself at the same time. Each exchange was longer than the last, and (Y/N) reveled in the knowledge that he was becoming as hooked on her intimacy as she was with him.

           In the light of the kitchen, the Doctor and his companion fell into something deeper than love all over again. As her hands tickled the back of his neck, his held her strongly to him. Breaking away for a chance to breathe, she grinned against his mouth.

           “Hey nerd.” She whispered.

           “Hi.” He replied, tender and soft.

           “You’re awfully good at that.”

[thefoodwiththedood]

“CAPTAIN!”

Here’s another weekly prompt submission for the Angels’ discord! The prompt this week was “terror”, and while everyone else was really digging deep and making cool character development stories, I decided to adapt this vine into a fun story about Gigi and Oro! It was really fun to write and I like how it turned out, so yeah, I hope y’all like it too! :D

Characters: Gheneva D’ruexieq, Orökhan Trelgask

Word Count: 739

TW: Entirely too much profanity

(full story below the cut)

It was eight hours into its latest voyage, and yet the Bauhaus still chugged steadily through space, its immense speed manifesting as little more than the odd bump to those on the inside. At its helm, the two pilots—Captain Gigi D’ruexieq and Co-Captain Orö Trelgask—sat idly with their seats reclined and their legs up on the console, heads buried in their Space-Nintendo Switches, fully trusting the freighter’s autopilot and their droid crew to keep them on course. They still had a long way to go before reaching their destination—normally they would’ve taken the quicker route and jumped to light speed, but they didn’t want to risk wasting fuel with an overshot, as was common with the ship’s less-than-reliable navi-computer.

Suddenly, their FighterZ match was interrupted by a blinking light and a beep emanating from the center of the console—the ship’s internal comms. With a sigh, Gigi set down her switch and answered the call. “This better be good, guys, we were in the middle of a—” 

“CAPTAIN!” the B-1 called back in his distinctive, high-pitched yell, causing Gigi and Orö to jump in their seats.

“Yeah, yeah what!?” Gigi answered, her attention now fully on the droid. At that same instant, she began to hear the sound of engines, but not the Bauhaus’s. These were much bigger.

“LOOK!” a quick glance out the cockpit window revealed the source of the droid’s terror. Barreling towards the port side of the Bauhaus was a Corona-class frigate, the Nohnanzo Gang’s insignia emblazoned on its disc-shaped hull.

“Oh, FUCK!” Gigi yelled, her voice reaching an octave she didn’t know it could. Frantically, she and Orö began flipping switches and pressing buttons all around the console. Shields up. Autopilot off. Max power to engines. Hyperdrive calculations started. Another quick glance outside showed just how close the Corona was to ramming them. “Nonononono, NO!” As soon as the autopilot was fully disengaged, she cut the flight yoke hard to starboard, nearly throwing her and Orö out of their seats, but reducing the damage of the impact as the Corona side-swiped them.

A quick sigh of relief left both their lips, but immediately after Gigi’s mind went to the Bauhaus’s cargo: a shipment of weapons badly needed on Devaron. She turned to Orö, shouting, “DUDE, we have so much shit!”

Understanding this to mean ‘secure the cargo’, Orö nodded and unbuckled his seatbelt, but just as he got up, he was knocked to the floor by a flurry of cannon fire from the Corona. Gigi unleashed another flurry of expletives as she tried to evade the cannons, though doing so in such a large, boxy freighter was never easy. “DUDE, holy fuckin’ SHIT!” she quickly slammed the button for the door and tried to keep the ship steady enough for Orö to get up. “Orö, get down there! Get on the turrets, we—OH FUCKIN’ SHIT!” a hard pull-up on the flight yoke sent Oro hurtling through the door, and Gigi quickly closed it behind him.

“Captain!” another one of the B-1s called to her through the internal comms, “We can’t handle much more fire, shields are at—”

“HOLY FUCK!” Gigi cut him short as she pulled the ship into a full loop, narrowly avoiding another flurry of lasers. In spite of herself, she laughed excitedly—goddamn, that was cool. Remembering she could die at any second, however, she regained her composure and spoke to the droid. “Eight-o-eight, jump to lightspeed as soon as we’re ready! Seven-o-seven, get the Corona on the main comms!”

Her commands were met with two simultaneous “Roger, roger!”, and in a second she had the Corona’s captain on the horn. “Hey guys!” Gigi yelled, still doing her best to dodge the cannon fire, “Guys, we’re cool!” another hit rocked the Bauhaus’s hull, sending Gigi’s head hurtling painfully into the less-than-comfy headrest behind it. “Hey, hey, CHILL!” she reiterated, an added dose of terror in her voice, “CHILL THE FUCK OUT!”

“We’re ready to jump!” Orö called from the internal comms, and without waiting to hear the Corona’s response, Gigi slammed the lever forward and the ship rocketed into hyperspace. As the blinding blue light enveloped her view, Gigi slumped into her seat and breathed a sigh of relief. She heard Orö do the same on the other side of the comm, and in spite of themselves, they both laughed. Next time, they agreed without saying so, they’d take their chances with the navi-computer.

[intergalacticstarlight]

[ Closed starter for @waywardfeathered ]

          theta, 'the doctor', had no intention of traveling that day- at least not in so many words. not to any extent that an adventure would present itself, seeing as he'd done a fairly good job of avoiding them at all costs for the better part of two centuries. even still, against his wishes which was a feat in and of itself, the cloister bell had begun to ring and every light inside his console room was tinted mauve. he'd had it happen before, many times in fact, but he'd never given in to the ship. not once, and eventually the ship would give up and return to status quo. he had no desire to save people, to help, to do... doctor-y things. that wasn't him. not anymore. not since he’d lost amy and rory, and subsequently river on top of it all.

          he called out for his ship to cease at once, demanded it as his hands clapped over his ears in an attempt to drown out the ever-present noise. oh he hated that noise, and yet it still persisted. normally the tardis did as he asked her to do, scared as she was of his apathetic outlook toward the long way round. he'd disable his ship if need be, and he had done before twice in order to get her to listen. but in that moment it seemed the lessons had been forgotten and he'd need to see to it to re-instill the fear of rassilon back into his infernal time ship once and for all. perhaps a telepathic onslaught was warranted on top of it.

          at least he would have done had the ship not given an infuriated groan of displeasure at his willful ignorance of the cloisters and begun to set her own coordinates, flip her own switches, force her own levers into the proper positions. he gave another cry of displeasure, the word 'no' escaping his lips so many times he felt sick with it. "no! no no no, don't you DARE! you stop this now! i don't give a damn about- OI!!" another exclamation as the ship gave a shudder and he heard the tell-tale signs of dematerialization as the time rotor began to churn, the column lurching up and down of its' own volition.

          gripping the edges of the console he let out a near-feral growl of frustration and attempted to reach out for the controls, but the ship had other ideas. she tilted mid-dematerialization and sent him sprawling back against the captain's chair, thoroughly putting an end to whatever he was about to do. for a moment his green eyes widened and his hearts threatened to race, anger warring with just a bit of terror besides in his stomach. before he knew it he was flying through the vortex, and the ride was anything but a pleasant one.

          tilting and shaking, sparks flying this way and that, the ship spun and pitched, causing him to grip onto the captain's chair in order to avoid tumbling painfully to the grating beneath. "what're you doing, you demented pile of filaments?!" of course the ship didn't respond, merely continued on her near perilous journey. he could feel the shift in the timelines, the twisting of matter and space, and the rough landing- a loud thunk that actually did send him hurtling toward the floor with a loud curse and a sharp pain to his side -well, it certainly wasn't normal.

          he pulled himself upright the moment his lengthy limbs allowed him to, grumbling under his breath with a sneer on his face as he leaned heavily against the console unit. "what the hell was that for? you’d better hope i don’t do more than temporarily disable you for this..." long fingers danced quickly over the keys in front of him, turning the monitor toward himself and simultaneous scan of his ship and where she'd taken him both at once. the readings for the ship suggested she was fine, if not being uncharacteristically quiet at the moment, avoiding his telepathic onslaught of reprimand and threatening promises. what surprised him were the readings that began to display on the monitor.

          "this can't be right... this is impossible, it's- it's...we can't still be on earth, it doesn't make any sense... what have you gotten us into?" he shook his head, lighter-than-he-liked eyebrows furrowing together as he squinted at the display. against his better judgement, his interest was piqued. the elements, the ozone surrounding the planet, the sheer amount of timespace anomalies alone and all of it paired with the fact that the year was current, not some obscure future altered by some sort of apocalyptic event... he expanded the search to include the neighboring planets and star systems, and once those readings displayed as well his eyes went wide and his hearts properly stumbled over themselves, thudding heavily in his chest.

          he wasn't on the earth he knew, but rather an alternate dimension. another quick scan revealed it wasn't the alternate dimension that he'd, for a moment, both wished it were and weren't. no sign of rose tyler or his human double, but that only confused him further. why would his ship bring him here of all places, against his will without any of his input what-so-ever if it had nothing to do with him or his personal timelines? fingers twitching, his hands moved to the controls to attempt retrace the flight pattern and take himself back where he belonged just as the ship went dark and he cursed loudly, slamming his fists against the console unit. "of course. ohh of course. alternate dimension, lack of proper timespace radiation, no fuel. bloody useless."

          with no alternative choices in sight, the doctor pushed himself away and made to go collect a few of the tardis’ cells and prepare to hook up the necessary alternative power source. perhaps, with luck, he could have them charged enough to be back in his proper dimension within the next 48 hours. with even more luck he’d be able to avoid having to step from his ship at all in that time, but he had the feeling that wouldn’t be the case. otherwise he wouldn’t be there in the first place.

[codylabs]

Chapter 27: Farewell Savage Fate

Links: P 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26

- Time:

- 2013 A.D., June 12th, 2:50pm (you don’t really need to pay attention to the times, they’re there for MY benefit.)

- Place:

- Crash Site Omega (control room)

-Warning: Intruders have begun Reactor 5 startup. Power output: 5% and rising. Coolant levels sufficient.

-Warning: Intruders have access to all remaining ship systems and engines.

-Input: Assign bioforms 3 and 4 a threat level of 20. Combat preference: Immediate lethal force. You are clear to engage. Take no survivors.

-Threat reassessed. Antimatter pellets loaded and launchers charged. Drones 155, 157, 158, 163, 164, 174, 175 and 179 engaging.

The 8 drones did exactly as they had been instructed, without a briefest moment’s hesitation. They hovered quietly out of the darkness, their eyes fixed on the entrance to the control room, their weapons hot, their minds already visualizing the battle.

Intruder 3, whom friendly faces knew as McGucket, was still busy at the computer, and would not be able to react in time. A single antimatter round could penetrate his torso and explode, killing him instantly. Stan, identified as intruder 4, remained catatonic in the chair; even if he were to wake up now, he would not be able to offer much resistance. Another antimatter round would terminate him.

Two shots. That’s all that was needed. Each drone loaded four for good measure.

But then something happened.

A brilliant flash of blue light lit up the control room. McGucket jumped backwards from the controls, startled and frightened. Did I just do that? This alien tech must be touchier than it looks… But then when he looked hard at the readouts, nothing seemed to have changed… All the settings and feedback were just where he’d left them… But then he noticed something really quite odd: The plasma beam weapon that had been leaned beside him was no longer there. He glanced around. Stan didn’t have it. Where did it go? What happened? It was right he—

The sound of eight simultaneous explosions echoed through the room. He heard debris rattling against the walls from outside, saw a scrap of burned wreckage bounce in past the doors, and shards of plating and chunks of robotic innards clattering to the ground outside.

Stanley was awake in an instant. “HI HEY NO PLEASE SUSAN I COULDN’T…! *Snrf* …Heeeey, can’t a fella get any sleep around here?”

“I dunno whatappened!” McGucket cried, rushing toward the door with Stan on his heels. “Whasappenin’ whatwassat noise whosthere whereintarnashin my death ray run off to?”

They looked out. Stan didn’t remember it being quite so warm and smoky. McGucket didn’t remember there being quite so many burned, smashed piles of robotic wreckage.

He also didn’t remember leaving his death ray out here. Yet there it was, sitting on the floor at his feet, that very same tool he’d misplaced seconds ago.

McGucket picked it up and found that it was lighter; its fuel tanks were nearly empty. And a quick check of the electrical charge revealed that the batteries were almost wasted as well.

The ignition chamber was still warm.

“Well I’ll be a pork-bellied feather-hearted dingleberry… What in the name of me Pappie’s gibberflunked bramblesnippin’ Mississippi combine just happened?”

“You need to keep better track of that thing.” Stan told him.

“Did you just do that just now?” McGucket asked.

“Did who do huh? Did something happen?”

“Wha--? But… The thing…? Oh my, lookit these poor robits…”

Stan made a long string of confused grunkley noises. “Welp, I’m in over my head. You got a brother I could call? I mean… A phone I could brother? I mean… Agh, can’t talk today. Hey waitaminute, where are the kids?”

“Yeh can’t get service down here…” McGucket reminded him. “Oh yeah, and them two teenagins said they’s was curious ‘bout somethin’, and ran off that-a-way.” He pointed off into the darkness.

“…Aaaagh. Dumb kids. Don’t they know there’s killer robots down here? …Okay; so you’re sure something blew all these things up?”

“Well yeah, an’ I think it may’ve used my plasma beam ta do it!” McGucket objected. “But I can’t rightly figger how they got it right out from under my nose, or ‘ow they did it so fast. Y’know this thing needs a moment to prime, a little bit ta charge, and even longer ta cool down, so it woulda taken a while ta do all this, but I believe I heard the events occur simultaneously, and…”

“Yeah, yeah, alright, listen, pal I’ve been living in a cramped ship’s cabin with my nerdy brother for the better part of a year now, and I have developed an extremely short fuse for technical mumbo-jumbo. So here’s how it is: if somethin’s weird, you say ‘somethin’s weird’ and stop there. Savvy?”

“Err… Sorry… Somethin’s weird.” McGucket said.

“Great. Weird. We know weird. We can handle weird. Ain’t nothin’ wrong with weird.” Stan pulled the doors closed behind them as they stepped into the control room. “Now. In case some maaaaagical death-ray-stealing mischief fairies wanna pay us another visit, I’ll leave it open a crack so we can hear ‘em coming.”

“Sounds good…” McGucket wrung his hands together as he stepped back up to the console. “Well… Actually, I think I got the programmin’ all finished. The reactor should be workin’ again. The gravitational nacelle has been calibrated to focus on the Forest of Daggers, and-”

“So what yer SAYIN’ is…” Stanley crossed his arms. “This whole joint’s gonna get weird once ya push that big red button.”

“…Yeah.”

“Better wait ‘till the kids are back then.”

“…I could run it through a test sequence…” McGucket scratched his chin. “Bring the core up to 50% output ta test for malfunctulations and stir up some noise; get ‘em back here faster.”

“Yeah. Great. Do that.”

McGucket hit the big red button.

It started quiet and built in intensity; an enormous, rumbling sort of hum, which thundered through the frame of the ship, shaking the walls, steadily overcoming all lesser noise.

McGucket turned it off again after a minute.

Stan adjusted his hearing aid. “That was a little loud.” He understated.

“Yeah, well, I reckon the coolant compressors had some corrosion, and the hydraulics were nearly rusted shut, so that’s my guess as to why…”

“Geez, you just take any little thing as an excuse to start in on it, don’t ya?” Stan grunted.

“Sorry.”

A noise from beyond the door interrupted them. It sounded like gunfire. From a raygun. Raygunfire.

“OKAY WHAT WAS THAT?!?” Stanley picked up a weapon, and marched for the door. “That better not be you stupid fairy brats again! Because I swear, this is getting on my last nerve! C’mon out and show yourself!”

But when he levered the hatch open, he froze in surprise.

“Ford?”

“Stanley?”

- Time:

- 2013 A.D., June 12th, 4:30pm (it doesn’t really matter when this was, but plotwise it happened before.)

- Place:

- Ford’s study, beneath the Mystery Shack (time and place where Sam happened to locate Ford)

Mabel stared up at the shapeshifter for a minute. Then she blinked, rubbed her eyes, and looked again. Yeeeah, that’s him alright.

She didn’t know why he was here, who let him out of the bunker, or what he was doing here. To be honest, she hadn’t even a faint inkling of what the heck happened at all while she was asleep. Gee whiz, spend one afternoon in a coma, and now the single nastiest and scariest monster I’ve ever met is right in here in the Shack… She had quite a lot of questions, but Great Uncle Ford or anybody was nowhere around to answer them. There was only this creature, this hideous, frightening… Thing.

Oh well.

She may as well just ask.

“Hi guy!” She smiled, forcing a smile onto her face. Be Mabel. She thought. Just like Dipper told you. Be Mabel. Think good thoughts… This IS gonna end up okay. One way or another. “How’s it going?” She asked, as her cheery words forced past her fear. “When did you get here?”

Sam hadn’t been expecting a question like that. In fact, he hadn’t expected even a hint of this cheery disposition. Unsure of how to react, he found himself answering candidly. “Twenty minutes ago…”

“Okay! Uh…!” She hopped down from her chair and stretched her sore neck as she glanced around the room. “Have you seen my Great Uncle? He was just here I think.”

“…He’s gone.”

She blinked. “Well yeah, I can see that; did you see where he went?”

“I think I kindnapped him.” He heard himself answer truthfully again.

“Whaaaat…?” Mabel frowned up at him skeptically. “How in pig’s name are you not sure if you kidnapped somebody?”

“Well, I…” Sam blinked down at the little girl. “…He disappeared. I’m sure it was me who did it, or who will do it. And… I… Uh.” He looked down at the yellow time machine in his hands, and felt himself descending ever deeper into confusion.

Mabel followed his eyes. Her jaw dropped and she gasped loudly. “What…! You! Wha! That’s no tape measure! THAT’S A TIME MACHINE! You have a time machine! You really have one! For real! Where’d you get it?”

“Y-yes. I… My mother gave it to me, I—”

“You have a mother?!? What’s she like?!?”

“I-wha-hey!” He finally found his focus again, reminded himself that he was in charge, and drug the conversation back on-topic. “YES. I have a time machine.” He repeated, clicking his teeth. “And I’ve been using it to remake my life as I will… I took Ford, I outsmarted all of you, and now, I have everything I want…”

Before she had time to feel intimidated, Mabel started talking again. “This is so awesome…!” She smiled, as her brain but together a plan. “Yes… YES! With a time machine, we can save him! It’s perfect! This fixes everything! We have a TIME MACHINE! Man, your mom must be AWESOME! Is it your birthday? Or is it Christmas? Do aliens have Christmas in June? Summermas? Where did she buy it?”

“…Calm down.” Sam frowned at her.

“Saaaay new friend, could I actually borrow that thing for a minute?” Mabel pleaded. “It’s really really reallyreallyreallysuperduper important.”

“Calm down.” He repeated.

“I’ll give it right back and everything!” She promised as she reached for it. “But my brother kind of died a couple days ago so I really need to save him. It’s really kind of urgent so would that be alright? You could come too if you want!”

“QUIET!” He reached out a hand and pushed her away. She stumbled right over on the floor, and almost hit her head on the corner of a table as she went over. Sam blinked, surprised. Oops. She’s weaker than I thought. I almost hurt her; I didn’t mean to hurt her… Wait, why DIDN’T I mean to hurt her? Of course you mean to hurt her! You’re HERE to hurt her…!

“You’re a fool.” He growled out loud. “You’re asking me to loan you this? To save your brother?…” I’m here to hurt her. “Don’t you know who I am and what I’ve done?”

She stared at him blankly. “Well… Yeah, you’re the shapeshifter guy…? You kinda--”

“My name is Sam, and I’m your enemy.” He explained. “And as for what I’ve done, did you know your brother’s death was no accident?” He held up the machine. “I just used this to kill him, stupid. He’s dead because of ME. And I’m proud of it. Because I hated him.”

Mabel eased slowly up to a sitting position in one corner of the room, and then even slower to her feet. “Oh…” Her voice became small and flat, as she considered this latest revelation for a minute. “Oh.” She finally repeated.

He nodded. “Now what do you think of that?”

“Well… Uh…” Mabel’s shoulders shuddered briefly. “That’s… Kind of… Mean.”

Sam wasn’t sure if he’d heard that right. “Mean.”

“Yeah, pretty mean…” Mabel informed him. “Like… Pretty selfish too… Most people would be… Nicer than that.”

The two little orifices on the top of his head emitted a snort. Mabel supposed that they must be his nostrils. “Are you… Brain dead?” He asked, as his fangs clicked in amusement. “You do realize what I’m saying, don’t you? That I killed your brother in cold blood? That I’m going to kill your uncle? That your own fate is subject to my whim…? You do understand… Don’t you?”

Mabel wrung her hands inside her sweater sleeves. “…Yeah.” She said. “I get it.”

“…Then why aren’t you thinking dark thoughts?”

Dark thoughts…

Mabel recognized those words. Robbie once said those words. The day that Dipper died, Robbie had stolen her joy with those words. The day she’d brought Robbie along on her happy little adventure, and sent him down into the bunker, he’d come back with those words… Mabel finally put it all together.

“Oh…” She said. “That wasn’t Robbie, that was you… That was when you got out…” Her voice got small. “I let you out.”

“Give the young lady a prize.”

“Uh… Oh… I’m really sorry… I mean! Uh, no, not sorry, I mean good for you! Hi! Welcome to the surface world! Uh… Ooh. Gee. Awkward…”

There was silence for a moment in the room, as the girl and the monster looked at each other, neither one precisely sure what next to do or say. Finally Mabel spoke up again.

“So… Uh… Besides for killing people, what are you doing?” The girl asked. “Like… I’m still kind of confused, and time travel is really complicated so… What’s going on?”

Sam looked at her.

“Well…” He started. “I was just taking care of some business. Making sure that things happened the way they were supposed to. Making sure I got to where I am today. Controlling your very lives.”

“…You can’t control my life.” Mabel frowned.

“Oh, but I can. In fact, I already have… Do you remember this?” He produced a small metal box, popped it open, and removed the robot kitten, of all things.

“Oh… Uh… Hi Juan!” Mabel waved at the little metal creature.

Sam stuffed it unceremoniously back in the box. “You loved it so much that I can use it to manipulate you. I saved it when your family tried to kill it… And now… Oh, I have a wonderful idea! What if I were to give it back to you the next night, with a note attached to it that said you needed to take action? What if that was the spark that lit the fire inside you? What if that were the reason you first launched on your hairbrained quest and accidentally freed me? What if…”

Sam walked over to one of the computers in Ford’s study, and booted it up. When a data entry program appeared, he began to type. “How about it? Am I talking nonsense, or truly writing history here?” He finished typing, and hit another button.

A nearby old-timey printer began to chatter, and it noisily emitted a single small piece of paper. “There!” Sam held up the note and shoved it in Mabel’s face. “Is that the note? Does that sound like something nice enough to get you to do something stupid?”

Mabel read it.

Enjoy the time you have with him.

Because it’s not right for him to stay here long.

Find a good place for him, Mabel. We believe in you.

Be wise and loving. Be his hero. Save his life.

Mabel read it a second time.

“Uh…” She mumbled. “Yeah… That’s the note… Hmm. Oh.”

“Well then.” Sam pulled out the time machine, and disappeared in a flash of light.

Mabel blinked and stared at the place where he’d been standing.

She took a step back, and found herself all the way in the corner of the room.

I always just thought it was an honest, well-meaning invisible wizard who did that. She pounded her forehead with her fists. I just thought ‘hey, there must actually be some decent, happy people somewhere in the world’… But it was all a lie. Everything I did, it was just a random, convoluted, pointless wild goose chase that accomplished nothing except ruining everything.

But… Wait… If Sam DIDN’T give me that note, then I WOULDN’T have done anything, and I WOULDN’T have freed him and he WOULDN’T have given me that note! …But since he DID give me that note, I DID free him, so he DID give me that note… It’s just a weird random circle that happened for no reason except itself! Dang it time travel! Why you gotta be so complicated?!?

…Well… Actually, this entire thing relies pretty heavily on me being stupid. I was so bent on being kind, so determined to find niceness and happiness where there was none, that I turned my brain off entirely.

So if at any time I’d just decided to use my head, then that would’ve been it. And it wouldn’t have happened.

If the time loop ever DID had a cause, then that cause was me.

…

Dipper, what do I DO?

There was another flash of blue light, and Sam was standing there again.

“And that’s it.” He spread his arms grandly, like a magician would after the completion of a spectacle. “I’ve been hopping around doing whatever I please, killing whoever I please. And that’s why your uncle’s gone too. Soon as I’m through with you, I’ll head back in time, take him away, and do as I will…”

“Yeah…” She whispered. “I see.”

“It all fits.” He told her. “I did it. It’s been a complicated equation, but I’m the answer. I’m the end. And that’s what’s happening.”

Mabel bit her lip and squeezed back tears.

You need to be stronger, Mabel. Dipper’s words whispered in the back of her memory. No matter what happens, to me or anybody else, we need you to be strong. Strong enough to hold together when something hits you. Tough enough to take a thousand hits and never break. Be hopeful. Be loving. Be cheerful, and caring, and good… Be that way forever. With or without me. That’s what we need you to do…

Mabel took a deep breath. In an instant, she knew exactly what she had to do. I have a job. She remembered. Fate has a job for sweet, happy, trusting little Mabel, and I’m the only one that can do it.

Time to do it.

“Hey Sam.” She said.

“What?”

“I’m…” She wiped her eyes and struggled to hold her voice steady. She really was afraid. “Uh… Why you haven’t killed me? …Do you like me?”

“I— What?” He grew a couple inches taller and snarled. “I don’t like you.”

“Eh… Well! I mean!” Mabel stuttered. “I mean you must have hated Dippingsauce a lot to kill him, but with me you’re just standing there, so that means you don’t hate me. I mean you don’t have a reason to hurt me and you don’t really want to. And that’s why you don’t. So yeah, so right, so there.”

There was silence for a minute in the darkened room.

Sam hadn’t thought about it like that before. But now that it came down to it, he realized it was true… He didn’t hate her.

He remembered his mother. How she treated everything like an object, or a tool. In all things she acted shrewd, cruel, pragmatic and level. She hurt and killed anyone that ever crossed her, never hesitated to stoop to the sickest, most murderous depths to gain any advantage. Power was the name of her game, and strength was its only rules. That made sense to Sam. That fit with what he knew and had seen. That was the only way it ought to be.

When he realized that he himself didn’t hate somebody… It felt like weakness. Why don’t I hate her?

Why AM I even talking to her, anyway?

What am I trying to do?

He’d come here for revenge; to destroy even the memory of everyone who’d been responsible for what happened to him: Stanford Pines, Fiddleford McGucket, Dipper Pines, Wendy Corduroy…

And he’d also wanted to find his people, so that he would no longer be alone. But now that he knew what it meant to be a part of his own family, now I know what his mother expects of an ally, Now… It seemed to him that he hated her as much as he hated the rest of his enemies.

But that was also none of Mabel’s business.

Sam opened his mouth to growl something, but the girl was already talking again. “I dunno about you, but I want a happy ending!” She stated. “And I bet deep down you actually want to help me! Because really everybody wants everything to turn out alright. So do you think there’s any chance you could have a change of heart and start being a good guy instead of a bad guy anytime soon?”

Sam blinked as if in shock, having a hard time believing that such a train of thought could even exist. “…Really…?”

“Come on!” Mabel pleaded. “I know you can’t be all bad! You let me sit on your lap and drive when you were pretending to be Robbie! And how about Tambry? She’s been on her Facepage account, and her Bumblr account, and her Chirper account, and all her accounts all week really, talking about how great the concert was and how great Robbie was but you were Robbie!”

“I had to learn to operate a vehicle.” He explained. “You were the only one around with a rudimentary understanding. That wasn’t you sitting on my lap, that was me tricking you into teaching me. And as for Tambry, I needed to blend in. Killing and eating her wouldn’t have blended in.” Wait, what am I doing? Sam demanded of himself. Am I trying to justify myself to HER? Trying to convince her that I AM a monster?

If you want to convince her of THAT. Another thought intruded on his mind. Just kill her. Remember who and what and where you are. You’ve got places to be and things to do. Standing here chatting with a teenage girl is wasting precious seconds. You were right in the middle of your revenge!

“Well yeah but you still did let me sit on your lap!” She once again interrupted him. “And you still were extra nice to Tambry even when you didn’t have to; so how about it? Maybe you were even happier when you were nice to people! I don’t know, but maybe down deep inside you’re actually a nice person! And the only little problem is that you’re just really angry and mean and evil and think it’s alright to do terrible things, but you’re actually nice… You know, like Beauty and the Beast or Doofenshmirtz or Count Bleck!”

Sam stared at her.

Mabel swallowed quietly.

I have a job to do.

It all led up to this. It all wraps up in this. It all ends now.

She told her foot to take a step forward, but it hesitated. Come on, move you stupid leg! She silently shouted. I need you forward! The place where you aren’t! Just move movemove come on move! Sure it looks like a monster up there, but it’s really a person somewhere inside, a person who needs his justice too! Come on, this is it! Take a step! Her leg wasn’t used to being yelled at, and finally obeyed.

Then she told her other foot to take a step too. It hesitated as well, but obeyed just like the other. She could hear her own heart beating, and knew she had to keep talking so that fear wouldn’t drive her right back.

“S-s-so how about it, Sam?” She asked, and with a monumental effort forced a smile onto her face. “Maybe… Maybe we could work together to make everything right again! Maybe you don’t have to be the bad guy, maybe you don’t have to be alone, or sad, or angry… Maybe everything could be okay if you just stop thinking dark thoughts…”

She was close enough to touch him now. Close enough to smell his breath. Close enough that he could injure her by no more than flinching. Close enough to make out every detail of his creepy, slimy body. Close enough to even hug him.

“Come on, Sam…” She said. “Don’t you want a happy ending?”

In spite of himself, Sam considered it.

He weighed all sides of the issue. He remembered all the evil that had been done between him and this family he was killing. Stanford and Fiddleford’s experiments, and the years spent locked underground. Dipper and Wendy’s attempts at his life… But in return… There was everything he’d done back to them… So Sam then wondered about forgiveness: could this family forgive him? And could he forgive this family? Was forgiveness possible after things such as this? Could there ever be peace?

…And were friends something he ever wanted? He remembered the time spent with Tambry. Indeed, the best week of his life had been the one where she loved him; where he had people around to laugh and joke and eat and sing with. Nowhere, in all the revenge and violence or deceit since, had he ever tasted anything as sweet as love…

…But would any of it be worth it, to forsake the destiny his mother had laid out for him? She would have him live a life of lies, violence, malice… And with that life would come strength, power, greatness… A chance, perhaps, to one day return to his people, even earn their respect. He could earn allies, powerful allies. He could have anything he wanted…

Anything he wanted…

But what if peace was what he wanted?

Sam thought about these matters.

And then he made his decision.

He raised his hands in the air, and brought them down hard. Mabel’s body broke and twisted and came to pieces as he smashed her to death. And each blow brought more resolution, more clarity, more confidence to his soul, as he knew then and there exactly the type of man he was. But it also broke his heart, for he knew that he was throwing away what could be his one and only chance at honest friendship.

In that moment, he hated himself more than he had ever hated another, so that he bit his lip hard enough to draw blood, and longed more than anything in the world to change his decision. But there was no going back on it now; he had sealed his soul and his fate, with a sin so cruel and monumental that could not be undone, even within his own mind. And with this burden on his heart, he turned and left the lab, to continue a life that led ever deeper into darkness.

At least.

That’s exactly what would have happened.

But instead, before he made his decision, while he still thought about these matters, he was distracted. And while he was distracted, Mabel’s hand darted forward, and plucked the time machine out of his hand.

The action was so quick, so nimble, and so utterly unexpected, that he didn’t even have time to react until she was already gone.

Gone, gone, gone.

Already gone.

- Time:

- 2013 A.D. (somewhen)

- Place:

- Ford’s study, beneath the Mystery Shack

The ethereal blast of the time-jump left her disoriented as her feet touched down in Ford’s study in some other distant time. She wasn’t sure exactly when she was, she just knew that she was safe.

It worked. Mabel gasped.

As soon as she was sure, her legs buckled beneath her, and she collapsed onto the cold wooden floor, crying and shaking and maybe even laughing just a tiny little bit. “I’m sorry…” She blubbered. “I’m sorry Sam… I’m sorry… I lied… You…” She choked. “You don’t get a happy ending you gross, fat, lying, murdering, poop-headed JERK! …You killed my brother… Nobody… Nobody gets to do that… Nobody… Nobody… Nobody…”

- Time:

- 2013 A.D., June 12th, 2:50pm (about the same time, maybe a little before)

- Place:

- Crash Site Omega (some place on the way back from the Shifter’s lair)

The close metal walls of the alien ship creeped with slime, rust, and decay. In every direction they stretched, great decrepit monoliths interwoven with deliberate purpose by beings long since dead. The trusses and members of the walls curved over and beneath and around the hallways, like the uneven, bloated ribs of some monstrous, shapeless corpse. The rays from the headlamp reflected strangely off the faded metal surfaces, casting shadows shaped like reflections, and reflections shaped like shadows.

It was a scary place on its own. Human minds have always guarded a natural fear of the strange and unknown, and this environment seemed designed to foster such unease. Any pillar might seem to hide an enemy. Any dark area might conceal death. Everything but the very nearest walls were a mystery, forgotten since time out of mind.

Wendy should have been afraid.

But this place wasn’t strange or unknown to her any more. She understood it, and the very real, very dangerous threats that inhabited it: the cold reckoning and electronic reflexes of patrolling security machines, and the wily, bloodthirsty intelligence of a timeless, formless beast. There was a reason, she knew, that this place had gone unnoticed for so very long: everybody who ventures inside was killed. Murderous natures did lurk around every corner. Fear was never irrational.

Wendy should have been afraid.

And yes, she did want out of here.

Yes, she wanted nothing but to return to peaceful places, to be reunited with loved ones, and to lie quietly at home in the light, far from harm and the burden of destiny and violence.

Yes, she was in phenomenal pain.

Yes, she was probably bleeding out.

Yes, she was trying very hard to keep her eyes open, because she knew that if she bent over and fell asleep now, she would never awake.

But she wasn’t afraid.

Not even a little.

Not anymore.

Her slow, limping trudge was interrupted by a quiet noise from somewhere up ahead. A pair of security drones hovered around a corner and fixed her with their unwavering red stare. Beneath their smooth surfaces, all manner of weapons charged and readied.

But their sensors swept her, and found none of the usual chemical markers of hostility. They saw her calm. Perhaps one of them sent a request to the security officer, asking for input on how to deal with this subject. But the officer never responded.

“Don’t even try it.” Wendy muttered up at their unhearing stares. “She’s already dead. And I’m already gone.”

She never stopped walking. And the drones did nothing but watch as she approached, watch her pass between them, and watch her backside as she continued on her way.

Soon now… So soon, and it would all be over. Once she finished her tasks and closed all the time loops, she would be free to undo all of history. Return things to the way they were supposed to be. Return to peaceful days free of sickness. Return to the nights when she could sleep easy. Return to a time when killer robots were the worst she had to deal with.

Return to the mission.

Return to him.

- Time:

- 2013 A.D., June 12th, 4:28pm (less than a minute after Sam’s appearance)

- Place:

- Ford’s study, beneath the Mystery Shack

Ford didn’t honestly have time to put together what all was happening. All he knew was that somehow, the shapeshifter was right here in the Shack, his niece was helpless and asleep behind him, and this thing is a much faster than I…

Strong hands grabbed him by the collar and hurled him headfirst toward the wall. He winced instinctively to prepare for the impact, as he reached for a weapon hidden in his coat.

Then there was a flash of blue light, and he didn’t hit the wall; he hit Mabel.

They both went into a pile on the floor.

“OOF! HEY! WHAT?!?”

Mabel stood back up unharmed and ecstatic. “It worked! It worked!” She blared like a siren. “I saved you! It worked!”

“Umm! Uh! Agh! What’s happening?” He staggered to his feet and drew the gun. He saw the shapeshifter standing in the middle of the room, frozen mid-throw… And he saw that Mabel was still where he’d left her, asleep in the chair. Suddenly, he wasn’t sure who he should be aiming at: the frozen shapeshifter, or the mysterious second Mabel?

Before he could do either, the mysterious second Mabel had her arms wrapped tightly around his hips, squeezing him in a tight hug and jumping up and down at the same time.

“I can’t believe I did it! It worked! It worked! I time-traveled like an expert pro and I froze time and I saved you! At first I was confused because time machines should just have only two buttons, for forward and backward, but instead it had a bunch of other buttons and one of them said ‘FRZ’ which I first thought stood for ‘Fat Rolling Zebras’ but then I realized it stood for ‘FReeZe’ as in ‘freeze,’ so I tried it out and time froze so here we are, and I’m sorry when I’m excited I tend to deliver exposition in really long unbroken sentences!” She finally took a breath. “But anyway it’s like destiny or something! IT WORKED!”

Ford poked his fingers up under his glasses to rub his eyes, then tried to compose himself as he waited for the spots to clear. He took a deep breath. He was still sick with a high fever, and still running on about 2 hours of sleep; not the best conditions to go on any type of adventure, let alone making sense of whatever the heck this was. “Okay.” He said anyway. “I think I got it, but just in case… Would you remind repeating all that again? Significantly slower this time please.”

Sam stared at the place where Mabel had disappeared, having taken his fate, his hope, and his one possession with her.

He had been tricked.

But he was not unintelligent. He was not unfamiliar with the way time travel worked. He knew in an instant what this meant.

It meant that she was going to save her uncle. That had been the real reason he disappeared. It was her who’d taken him, not to kill him as Sam would have, but to save him. Now that Sam’s greatest, oldest enemy had access to the tape, Sam realized that he could be easily killed at any time. Just as I killed the boy. At any point they could freeze the flow of time, and appear among that breach in the flow with a deadly weapon at the ready. I won’t see anything. I won’t feel anything. At any moment now, any moment at all, I’ll see a flash of bluish light, and when it fades, I will stand with a mortal wound.

Any moment now…

Any moment now, and the good guys will win.

Any moment.

Sam stared at the place on the floor.

He imagined Mabel standing there again, and tried to think what he might try to say to her if he could. What could he say? Could he apologize? Could he beg? Could he undo time and give her back her beloved brother? No… Yes… No… Perhaps… If only she were here again… Oh, who am I kidding? If she were here again, the only smart option would be to kill her again…

Then he imagined Stanford there, and tried to rehearse what he might say to him. Could he reason with him? Could he accuse him? Or just beg for mercy all over again; beg to be consigned to another terrible life in a cold prison beneath the ground? It would be so much better than death… ANYHING was better than death. Anything but that cold, dark, mysterious hell… No… No, if Ford were here, I would just attack him again. Because I will not suffer prison again. Never, not again, not one minute more. Death, any death, would be better than that.

He imagined Tambry there. What the devil could he say to her? Perhaps, before he died, he would have liked to tell her that he really did love her. He wasn’t sure if it was true, but he wished so badly that it was. Most of all, he would’ve just liked to thank her for loving him, and for leading him through the one beautiful week he’d ever had in his life; the one he’d spent in the light. That, he knew, was true. Oh, Tambry… If you were here… I could tell you that I did indeed love you… But if you were here, you would finally see me for who I really am, and then you would hate me, just like all the others. You would hate me for being a monster. And I would kill you and possibly eat you, because… Because…

Why? Why are you so bloodthirsty, Sam? Why is every inclination of your soul only evil all the time? How did you come to be the monster that you are? What foul soul did you inherit from that psycho mother of yours? What black deeds must she and her kind have done, far away and long ago, so black and pitiless and cruel that they echo right down to you…?

Then he imagined his mother there.

And he couldn’t imagine a single thing he could possibly say to her. He couldn’t even bring himself to meet her eyes. He bowed his head.

“You’re weak.” In the back of his mind, he heard his mother’s words whispering down at him. “If you were strong, you could have killed him when you were a child. If you were strong, you could have escaped. If you were strong, you could have killed them all. If you were strong, you could have been worthy to stand, worthy to be called my son. If you were strong… If you were strong… If you were strong…

If I was strong…

Sam couldn’t cry. His eyes didn’t naturally have any tear ducts, for his body was slimy enough already. And he couldn’t’ scream. He’d never screamed before, only roared or snarled. But those were sounds for anger, for fight-or-flight, for pain of the body. He didn’t know what sound to make for this pain of the soul, or for this incredible, overpowering mortal fear. He knelt down on the floor and he wondered if he could pray at least.

Dear God.

Dear God…

…

God, I hate you too.

There was nothing else to say, nothing at all.

But a song did come to mind.

It was an old, classic song, one that McGucket used to play 30-something years ago, down in the lab on an old record player. It was long ago in Sam’s youth, and he hadn’t quite understood the meaning of the words back then. But he recalled them now, and now he understood. Indeed, it seemed as if it had been written for him, so he quietly recited it.

“Well, my name, it is Sam Hall, Sam Hall.

Yes, my name, it is Sam Hall, it is Sam Hall.

My name it is Sam Hall, and I hate you one and all.

And I hate you, one and all,

Curse your eyes.

…

I killed a man, they said, so they said.

I killed a man, they said, so they said.

I killed a man, they said, and I smashed in his head.

And I left him lying dead,

Curse his eyes.

…

But a-swinging, I must go, I must go.

A-swinging, I must go, I must go.

A-swinging, I must go while you critters down below,

Yell up, “SAM I TOLD YOU SO!”

Well curse your eyes.

…

I saw Mabel in the crowd, in the crowd.

I saw Mabel in the crowd, in the crowd.

I saw Mabel in the crowd and I hollered, right out loud,

“Hey there Mabel, ain’t you proud?

Curse your eyes.”

…

Then the sheriff, he came to, he came to.

Ah, yeah, the sheriff, he came to, he came to.

The sheriff, he come to and he said “Sam, how’re you?”

And I said, “Well, sheriff, how’re you?

Curse your eyes…”

…

My name is Samuel, Samuel.

My name is Samuel, Samuel.

My name is Samuel, and I’ll see you all in hell.

And I’ll see you all in hell.

Curse your eyes…”

He shifted one of his hands into a long, bony stinger. And he placed it under his chin. He lowered the bone density in his skull so that it would be easy and painless.

“…And I’ll see you all in hell…

…Curse your eyes…”

- Time:

- 2013 A.D., June 12th, 3:05pm (one hour previously)

- Place:

- Crash Site Omega (last known location of Wendy, Stan, McGucket, and Robbie)

A short time jump, a two-mile walk, and a seemingly endless ladder later, Ford and Mabel found themselves slowly and stealthily progressing through the engine room of the alien spacecraft. Mabel’s story mulled around in Ford’s head, while worry and anger built up in his chest.

“Wow, this place is creepy. How come you never brought me down here? Are there lots of aliens? It’s dirty down here. They must have run out of soap. And did they invent sparkles on their world? We need to take them to our glitter. Wow, di-”

“And you’re sure the Valentino boy was replaced?” Ford interrupted.

“Uh-huh.” She nodded. “You’re sure that he went down here with everyone?”

“Yes…” Ford hissed. His worry increased with the darkness and the silence and their depth beneath the ground, and his anger increased with Mabel’s constant talking and chattering and cheeriness. Why couldn’t she just calm down and be quiet? Didn’t she realized the danger wasn’t yet passed?

Eventually, the walls began to shake, and a great noise filled the air. Ford pulled Mabel for cover, and they sat there together in the dark, waiting for the noise to pass. Ford realized that it must be McGucket; he must have gotten the ship’s reactor working again… At least he hoped it was him… He hoped his friend was still alive, still in control… One worry on top of another.

“So what are we doing down here, again?” Mabel asked.

Ford’s patience was growing dangerously thin.

“We.” He growled. “Need to find the others, and warn them about the shapeshifter. There’s no telling where and when it has been, or what it did, before you trapped it. It could have been here right at this very moment…!”

“That last sentence was pretty confusing, but okay, I’ll be quiet!” Mabel whispered a little too loudly. “Wait, hold on, when are we right now? Are we in the present?”

“Every time is the present when you’re in it.” Ford rolled his eyes. “It’s a subjective term.”

“Brain hurting…”

“To answer your question, we’re about an hour before you stole the time machine from it. With any luck, that will prevent it from seeing us coming.”

“Hmm… Okay, yeah, but actually, I think he’s a ‘he’ not an ‘it’. I mean since he has a soul and everything.”

“What?”

“Right? I mean, living underground for so long probably made him really sad and angry. And now that he’s out, he got a name, and a mom, and he really started to… You know, really become his own person and everything… Like, his revenge is wrong and everything, but it still makes sense…”

“The… The… The ability to think…” Ford stuttered. “D-d-doesn’t make you a person. Neither does the ability to lie. But that doesn’t matter right now. All that matters is that we find everyone else, get them to safety, and get out again without being seen by something worse…”

“Stealth mode… Activated.” Mabel pulled her sweater up over her nose, and combed her hair into a ninja mask.

Ford paused to stare at her. “…Well, I’m glad you’re feeling better at least!” He suddenly burst. “You know, for a girl who just lost her brother to a murderous monster that she unleashed herself, you’re acting awfully chipper, you know that?”

That hurt.

But Mabel was used to hurt after all this. She’d already reached rock bottom today. Rock bottom was a terrible place to be… But Dipper had met her there. He’d still loved her there, and he’d helped her rise back up.

“He forgave me.” Mabel said.

Ford lost his temper as he stood up and continued down the passage. “Then he’s a BETTER MAN than I!”

That hurt even more.

Mabel was silent from that point on.

And Ford pushed onward, trying to ignore his own guilt, as he wondered if perhaps he was the one the shifter truly hated. Perhaps all of this was just an elaborate, contrived ploy to get back at him… Perhaps it’s all my fault. Perhaps that really was an intelligent creature I locked in my lab for all those years. Perhaps if I’d treated him as an equal, or a friend, or a child, then… No. NO! It’s an ‘it’! It’s evil! It killed! And it will kill again! Ford pushed his guilt, and his doubt, and all other cluttering, pointless thoughts toward the back of his mind. And he promised to think about it later; sometime when everything was safe. Sometime when he could afford to waste even a single moment on such thoughts. Sometime when real people, when humans, when family, weren’t in danger of death.

Finally, a dim yellowish light appeared not far ahead, reflecting green off the bluish walls. They rounded one last corner to find the light shining out through a crack in a heavy metal door; Ford recognized it as the entrance to the control room. Somebody must still be inside. Please be Fiddleford and Stan. Please be alive…

But then Ford noticed something very odd: this hallway had been rather empty the last time he’d been down here. But now it was messy; cluttered with debris and broken machinery and thousands of shards of shattered glass. He motioned Mabel to a standstill, and pulled out a magnet gun as he bent to inspect the wreckage. He recognized a lot of these parts; fusion pulse weapons, tentacled robot arms, and scraps of spherical glass shells, perhaps 2 meters wide.

“What’s all this clutter? Was this an alien attic or something?” Mabel whispered from his elbow.

“No, these are security drones… Or they were…” Ford poked at it with the barrel of the magnet gun.

“Are they all dead?”

“Well it definitely appears as if… Wait.” Ford’s eyes swept the carnage. Toward the opposite end, a single motor twitched. One of the red triangular eyes lit up briefly to look at him.

Ford flipped the gun to its pulse setting, and shot it. The red eye flashed, and sparks arced across its body, frying and scrambling its circuits. The remains of its artificial intelligence realized it ought to send some manner of report back to the central mainframe, but it was so frazzled that its last words ended up being nothing but an incoherent string of nonsense: “INTRUDERS DETECTED INCONCLUSIVE REFERENCE CODE RETURN THREAT LEVEL UPGRADED TO JELLY ROLL ONE: ERROR 443\]kl;/oij#JE’~~3Dde~~~…” It broadcasted with the last of its consciousness.

“Now they’re all dead.” Ford answered confidently.

“Okay. So-”

“OKAY WHAT WAS THAT?!?” A new voice spoke up, coming from the control room entrance. “That better not be you stupid fairy brats again! Because I swear, this is getting on my last nerve! C’mon out and show yourself!”

Ford spun on his heels. The narrow sliver of light creaked open to its full width, and the silhouette of his twin brother was suddenly standing in the gap.

“Ford?”

“Stanley?”

- Time:

- 2013 A.D., June 12th, 3:05pm (concurrent)

- Place:

- Crash Site Omega (Wendy)

It seemed like hours of walking, with the pain burning through every wound in her body, blood pooling from the spike in her stomach, and her legs stiff beneath her. It was probably only 20 minutes or something, but still.

Finally, she reached the control room at the ship’s center, and pulled the tape to jump back to right before she’d heard the ship’s engines going off; back when she’d first realized drones were being sent to kill McGucket and Stan.

She hit the ‘freeze’ button on the tape as she appeared, and took a moment to look around. Sure enough, there were no fewer than 8 drones approaching the control room, and sure enough, the old men had no idea what was coming. Stan was even asleep.

Ugh.

Well, they’re too high of the ground to use an axe… And I left the ray gun somewhere… Ugh… Oh hey, wait, McGucket brought that new death ray of his, didn’t he? Yeah, he has it down here…

She stumbled into the control room, unfroze the massive weapon, and brought it back outside.

Okaaaay, soo… How do you turn this thing on?

She messed with it for a couple seconds, flipping this switch and that, pulling the trigger, and scratching the record (why is there a record player?) Eventually she found a switch that made it make a whole lot of funny noises, and another one that turned on the ‘ignition’ light. The weapon roared to life in her hands, and a swirling, glowing pink ball of pure sci-fi-ness formed a few inches from the tip. She aimed it upwards at the first drone and pulled the trigger.

Wham.

The time-frozen room glowed with brilliant pink light for a moment, as the superheated beam tore through the robot’s shell. The grass cracked, the metal components melted, and its batteries violently burst.

But time was still frozen, so its debris just hung motionless in the air, mid-explosion, as Wendy aimed the weapon at the next drone.

Wham.

And the next.

Wham.

Wham.

Wham.

Wham.

Wham.

Wham.

Finally they were all dead, and Stan and McGucket were safe.

Huh. Wow. She looked down at the death ray. I actually REALLY like this thing. She unfroze time just long enough to watch the robots’ wreckage clatter to the ground, and catch the stench of warm smoke. Then she dropped the death ray where she stood, and stepped back into the shadow of a nearby pipe to think through strategy: Okay, so they’re safe, that’s a real load off. But now how do I find Sam? How do I get myself medical attention when I can’t trust anyone? How do I keep him from killing Mabel and Ford and everybody else? Where do I go from here?

Oh man, I’m still bleeding…

Every time she thought about her injury, it seemed to be getting worse. And always she seemed to be getting tired faster. Things were getting… Weird… And every time she sat down, it was harder and harder to force herself to stand back up.

After 10 minutes of balancing torture and sleep, she was forcefully drug out of her brooding by the sudden loud discharge of a magnet gun.

“OKAY WHAT WAS THAT?!?” Stan’s distant voice mirrored her thoughts. “That better not be you stupid fairy brats again! Because I swear, this is getting on my last nerve! C’mon out and show yourself!”

Wendy forced herself to an upright sitting position, and peaked around the pipe to see what was happening.

Much to her surprise and suspicion, she saw two guests that she’d presumed dead.

“Ford?”

“Stanley, is that you?”

“Bro, why are YOU down here? I told you to get some rest!”

“The real question is why y’all’re down here!” Mabel piped up. “It’s colder and creepier than the county jail down here! Heck, creepier than a unicorn dungeon! Dare I say, even creepier than a gnome drunk-tank!”

“Mabel!” Stan noticed his great niece standing there with him. “Sweetie! Are you okay? What’re you…? What’re you both doing down…?”

“Stanley give me your hand.” Ford commanded, rushing up to him. “Here. Now. Give it. Quickly and quietly now; we haven’t got all day. Mabel, stand guard, would you?”

“What woah hey what’s the matter with-” Stanley began to protest as Ford grabbed his wrist, drew a small knife, and pricked a hole in Stan’s palm. Stan drew his hand back as fast as he could react, and clutched his wounded fist to his chest. “OW HEY GEEZ FORD WHAT WAS THAT FOR?!? YA COULDA KILLED ME!”

“I… I was just…” Ford looked at the drops of red fluid trickling out of his brother’s fist. “Red blood. Good. My apologies, it was a necessary evil. Stanley, we’ve got a-”

“Look poindexter, I don’t gotta put up with this! I’m OLD!”

“We’ve got a problem.” Ford continued. “Where’s Robert?”

“I said I’m too old for this!” Stan gave one last try at driving the idea appropriately far into his brother’s brain. “TOO. OLD… And wait, who in Stalin’s pits is ‘Robert’…?”

“The Valentino boy! Shaggy, gangly little creature. Wears a hoodie? Eyeliner? Human, I believe.”

“…Oh you mean Robbie? Yeah, he was here earlier. McGucket said he ran off with Wendy about an hour ago. Thought they’d be back by now.”

“Oh, blast it all…” Ford nervously glanced about.

Wendy sighed, and drew her axe. If Ford and Mabel were real, then that was 4 of her friends accounted for, and she could get their help. But if one of them was the Shifter… She didn’t know how she’d face him in her current state, but it would be better to get it out of the way now than later. “ALL RIGHT YOU TWO…” She announced, as loudly and strongly as she could muster. “HERE’S HOW IT IS.”

Everyone turned about, looking for the source of her voice. Ford drew a ray gun and pointed it toward her hiding place in a fit of panic.

“Stan 2…” She struggled upright, using her axe like a walking stick. “You… You know about the shapeshifter… Which means you either beat him, or you are him. So… So prove the first one or I swear I’ll, like… Do something bad…”

“Uh… I can vouch for him!” Mabel spoke up. “He ain’t been out of my sight!”

“And I can vouch for Mabel…” Ford said. “But now YOU… Uh… You’d better be the real Wendy…!”

Wendy figured that was proof enough. Or maybe it wasn’t… Oh, heck if she knew. And even if it wasn’t, she couldn’t fight like this…

She stepped out into the light.

She was bleeding the color red from enough places that they no longer found her suspect.

“Geez, girl, you alright?!?” Stan took in her injuries. “C’mon, sit down! What got ya?”

“Uh…” Wendy finally seemed to partially relax, and let Stan lead her over to a big, round alien chair in the control room. “You… You guys are all okay… You’re all alive. I thought…”

“Wendy, I’m dreadfully sorry, but we have bigger problems!” Ford told her. “We have reason to believe that the Shapeshifter had a parent, likely possessing time-travel capabilities of far-reaching extent. Have you s-”

“Neutralized.” Wendy collapsed into the chair, while Stan fumbled with a first aid kit. “I… T-t-took care of it.”

Ford blinked. “You… Did? It’s captured?”

“Dead.” Wend winced as Stan lifted her jacket to inspect the wound. “She’s dead.”

Mabel put her hand over her mouth. “You killed her?”

Ford frowned. “Are you sure?”

“Yeh.” She grunted quietly.

“Uh…” Ford noticed the greenish filth covering her shirt and forearms for the first time, and was shocked to realize it was all blood. “Uh… Y-y-yes…” He stuttered. “I should think so…”

“Where’s…” Wendy grunted. “W-w-where’s the other one? The first one? Has anyone seen him?” She fixed her eyes on Ford and Mabel. “YOU’VE seen him. Where is he? I’m going to kill him too…”

“The heck you are!” Stan growled, as he kept pressure on her wound with one hand, and rustled through the first-aid kit with the other. “I ain’t no doctor, but you’re in a real bad way, so you’re staying right here until we get ya patched up. You shouldn’t even be walking!”

“Yeah… Yeah I am…!” Wendy pulled a time tape out of her pocket, and coughed. “I know I am, because this one just came flying out of the air at me at the start of the battle, and there’s no way for me to get it except prying it from his cold dead hands and that means I-”

“Wait…” Ford snatched the machine from her grip, and inspected it closesly. It was perfectly identical to the one they’d taken from Sam, right down to the same exact dents and scrapes. He pulled its duplicate out of his pocket. “No, we already did… It’s the same one…”

Wendy stared. “…You mean… You got him…?”

Ford nodded. “Neutralized…”

Wendy blinked tiredly. “Oh.”

“And so if I’m understanding this right, this one a past version of this one…” Ford held up the two tapes. “You have to help me understand this, I-”

“Ford.” Stan growled, as he glared at his brother. “I’ve got my fingers in this girl’s INNARDS trying to pull out a HARPOON, and you’re trying to TECHNOBABBLE with her. Stop talking.”

“…Well. Wait…” Ford scratched his head. “Okay. I know how I can help. I know what I can do… I just need to know where this ‘fight’ is…”

All of a sudden, there was a flash of blue light, and another Ford appeared standing in the room, looking as if weary from a journey. “Well, that’s that…” The second Ford sighed. He glanced at present Ford. “Take the Norther cargo doors out of the engine room, then follow the 3rd hallway on the left as far as it goes. You’ll reach a loose hatch in the left wall near where it’s collapsed, and you can find your way from there.” She pointed to the tape he’d taken from Wendy. “Use that one to return to now.”

“Got it.” The first Ford nodded.

“Also, don’t interfere with anything!” The second Ford added. “DON’T interfere. It already happened the way it did. She got hurt, but she won, so you don’t DARE even RISK messing ANYTHING up…”

“Understood.” Present Ford disappeared, and everybody was left staring at the second Ford: the one who’d just come back from completing the final mission.

“That… That’s that…” Ford sighed.

“That’s it…?” Wendy whispered, scarcely daring to believe it. “That’s it…” She realized it was true, and had a feeling as if a great load had suddenly been lifted from her shoulders.

“What’s it?” Mabel scratched her head.

“I’m kinda perplexified by what gist happened…” McGucket admitted.

“I’ve learned to accept my confusion for what it is.” Stan had totally ignored everything in the past two minutes. But now he sat back, wiped his hands on his shirt, and looked at his brother. “Okay, I think I got the bleeding stopped; least until we can get back to the Shack. So. Now we can talk.”

“Okay… I’ll see if I can put this into simple words…” Ford adjusted his glasses and prepared. “So… Wendy… Ah… Wendy just got through with a… Fight. A very… Intense fight; I watched the whole thing. And… I now no longer doubt Stanley’s claim that her father can wrestle a bear. Also… Wendy, I have to say that you’re much smarter and tougher than I ever gave you credit for. And I don’t doubt that your grit, ingenuity, and unsettlingly high tolerance for pain just saved all our lives.”

“Gee thanks.” She mumbled. “But you coulda helped out too while you were there…”

“Couldn’t risk it.” Ford stated briefly. “Now, moving on. A number of… ‘Stable time loops’ were employed during all today’s events. Things happened the way they did because time travel forced them to happen the way they already did. Information and persons traveling backward through a stable time-like curve result in recursive causality.”

“Ford.” Stan frowned. “Yer technobabbling again. We’ve talked about this.”

“Sorry, sorry… Anyway… To summarize, things were weird.” Ford summarized. “But now… To the very best of my knowledge, all those time loops are ‘closed’. That is, we’ve completed all the actions needed to make things happen the way they have. And, by some miracle of either talent, intelligence, luck, or all three, the way they happened is that we won. It’s all done. We are now officially free to live out the rest of our lives without fear of the Shapeshifters.”

“You mean Sam and his mom.” Mabel corrected him.

“I…” Ford considered that. “Yes… Yes… Sam and it’s… And his mom. We are free to live without fear of Sam and his mother.”

“But we won’t.” Wendy muttered.

“Hmm?” Ford clarified. “What did you say?”

“We won’t.” Wendy repeated. “Dipper’s dead. And we ain’t gonna leave him that way.”

“Oh, and also Robbie!” Mabel added. “Robbie’s probably dead too.”

“And Robbie.” Wendy agreed. “Right… Keep forgetting about him. But anyway, we’re going to save them. And… Okay. I’ve been thinking about it, and I think I’ve got a good plan. I think that if I went back alone, there’s one single moment that I could change. And if I change it, if I knew then what I know now, then none of this would have happened. I know exactly where I need to go…”

“Well…” Ford winced as he looked down at the tape. “I’m… I’m not sure we can undo Dipper’s death with these. They seem to form stable time loops only and-”

“There’s a switch on the side.” Wendy sighed. “When it’s engaged, you don’t time-travel like normal, it just beams back your brain. It replaces a version of yourself at a previous date. Good for fixing mistakes, I guess.”

“Oh.” Ford flipped the switch, and then stared at the tape again for a minute or so. “But…” His voice was small. “But if we undo everything…”

“Yep. Sam’s mom will be back alive.” Wendy admitted, wishing she could forget that detail. “And Sam will be back in the bunker. It’ll be like nothing happened, because nothing did.”

“You… You saw her though!” Ford wished he wasn’t making the argument that he was. “You saw how dangerous she is! How psychopathic she is! How many people she’s killed! You LIVED through the experience of how MUCH it takes to DESTROY her! We CAN’T risk undoing that! Suppose she catches even the faintest HINT of what happened?!? She could be anywhere, anyone, anywhen…! She-”

“That’s less important!” Wendy retorted.

“It’s not that simple!” Ford pleaded. “Do you have any idea how lucky we were today?!?”

“I have an idea that I didn’t fight across time and space just to hide for the rest of my sorry, miserable life!” Stan tried his best to stop her, but Wendy pushed him aside and struggled to her feet, pressing her arm to her stomach to keep the bandages in place. She stepped right up into Ford’s face, and glared. “I did it because my best friend died, and I want him back…” She told him. “Now if it’s all the same to you, I’m tired, I’m in pain, and I just want to start fresh. So GIVE me back that tape, or YOU are an obstacle.”

“…Ms. Corduroy.” He said. “Be reasonable-”

“Mabel, go for it.” Wendy sighed.

Mabel leapt off a high shelf, and landed on Ford’s back. Her arms and legs all entwined themselves about his face and right arm, and her hair got in his eyes. He stumbled a little bit and almost fell over, so Wendy kicked him in the chest to finish the job, and the time machine flew out of his hand and into the air.

By the time Ford regained his composure, he was lying on the floor, bruised and coughing. Wendy and Mabel were standing over him.

And Stan had caught the tape.

“Stanley…” Ford coughed. “Stanley, you… We… You must realize this is foolishness…! You know we can’t do this again…!”

Stan stared at the tape.

He thought about it all for a good long minute.

“Y’know Poindexter…” He hummed. “When we were out sailing the world this last year… When we heard the siren’s song, did we turn around?”

“We… What?” Ford frowned.

“No. We didn’t.” Stan said. “What did we do? We pulled out our hearing aids, we sailed right in, we kicked their tails, and we found a whole chest of pearls, now didn’t we?”

“Well… Well, yes, I suppose we did, but what does that have to do with-”

“And how about when we ran into that bounty hunter? Did we hide from her? What woulda happened if we hid from her?”

“Then… Then we would have had to leave the rocket launcher behind…?” Ford frowned. “…And… I don’t know, probably would have been defenseless against the cyclocks…”

“And how about that one warlord? If we woulda put up our hands and backed out of that business, we’d be permanently banned from Peru, not to mention never meeting all those babes in that harem of his…”

“We’re in mixed company, Stanley.” Ford glanced toward the children.

“And how ‘bout Bill?!?” Stanley demanded. “When Bill had you during Weirdmageddon, WE were all SAFE! We coulda RAN! Left the town scot-free! Instead these morons drag me along to give up everything for your stupid hide, and wouldn’t ya know it, we just so happened to save this whole lousy dimension along the way!”

Ford nodded.

“And my brain…” Stanley said. “Soon as my mind was wiped, you all started right in helping me back up; mixing up old memories, tickling the old thinker, making me a Grunkle again… Even though ya must’ve worried that you might’ve been stirring Bill up too… Ya coulda left it be, but nooooo, instead you loved me too much, and now we all gotta worry that maybe he’s still rattling around in there, kicking stones and twisting wires…”

“If he ever comes back we can deal with it…” Ford growled.

“That’s what I’m saying!” Stan agreed. “That’s seriously, like, the moral of our entire adult lives; that we DON’T RUN…! Remember, we’re PINES! And Pines don’t leave family behind. We stand by each other through thick and thin… We’re there for each other! No matter what! Seriously, get your head in the game, poindexter…”

Ford’s eyes fell.

The room was silent for a moment.

“All right.” Ford whispered.

Stan handed the tape to Wendy. “Go get ‘em, sweety.”

“But…” Ford implored. “But we don’t know what’ll happen… Nobody can know…”

“HA HA! Well that’s the funny thing, isn’t it?” Stan chuckled. “Cause we kinda DO! Wendy here says she actually once met a future version of herself!”

“Dude.” Wendy frowned at him.

“Yeah!” Stan continued, with a beaming smile. “She was all grown up and everything! And this freaky chick says that her and Dipper are actually married by then! Can ya believe that?!?”

“What.” Ford’s expression went blank.

“EH?” McGucket almost dropped his glasses.

“SQQUEEEEE!” Mabel instantaneously lost all motor control.

“…You did not just say that.” Wendy glared at her Grunkle. “You gave me your word. You scumbag.”

“Wha-haaaaat? I’m rootin’ for ya babe!” Stan put up his hands and took a step back, smiling broadly. “And besides, this timeline is all gonna get undone anyway, so it’s not like I really spoiled anything!”

“This close.” Wendy growled, holding up her fingers to a very narrow width. “This close to having a brick shoved up your nose.”

“Okay, okay, you’re right, you’re right. I’m sorry… Yeah, uh… Okay, that wasn’t cool.” Stan glanced down at Mabel, rolling around on the floor and frothing at the mouth just a little. “Yeah, uh… Hmm… I guess you better get outta here then…”

“Darn right I better…”

“Hey.” He put a hand on Wendy’s shoulder. “You done good kid. I, uh… I dunno what to say besides that this reality bites, so you go back and make a better one. You knock ‘em dead, you grow up to be that hero, and watch out for my nephew, hey? Make sure he does the same.”

“Yeah.”

“And also. You proved me right, kid.” He said sincerely. “This was your day to shine. Even if nobody saw it, you did it, and you proved for good an all that you are that hero. Hope he knows that.”

Wendy nodded.

“…Wait.” Ford said.

They looked down at him.

He stood slowly to his feet, a look of sorrow on his face. “I’m… I’m the villain in this story… I am, aren’t I.”

“The heck are you on about?” Stan frowned at him. “Y’know we’ve got time-traveling booger monsters runnin’ around, not ta mention killer robots up the wazoo…”

“No, I…” Ford rubbed his face through his hands. “I mean… Is it my fault, for treating… For treating ‘Sam’ like I did? Are they just monsters? Or are they people?”

“I treated ‘im bad as you…” Mumbled McGucket. “Like livestock…”

“Hey, what’s done is done.” Stan spread his arms. “Ya didn’t know all this back then, right?”

“But am I still the bad guy?” Ford asked. “Are they people? Do they think, feel, live, choose…”

“I dunno…” Wendy shrugged. “I guess so.”

“Then…” Ford nodded. “That means he has a soul. And that means I misused mine. That means that wrong was done… Uh… Would you mind… When you go back, would you mind telling past-me what happened? You don’t have to tell him everything, just… Just, he would have liked to know what could have been avoided… He’d like to know about the shapeshifter… And about who he is… It occurs to me that I’m sorry for what I did to him. It occurs to me I imprisoned him, and treated him unfairly for many years. If he ever could have been anything more than a monster… I’d have liked to know.”

Wendy nodded again. “Alright.”

“Biscuit Brown.” Ford added. “Carrot Costume.”

“Wait, what?”

“Tell past-me that.” Ford nodded. “‘Biscuit Brown’, and ‘Carrot Costume’… They’re codes. So that he’ll know that it’s serious.”

“Okay…” Wendy repeated the codes to herself with a shrug. They were bizarre, and nonsensical, but that’s part of what made them easy to remember. She fished out the pull-tab of the tape measure. “Guess this is goodbye, then, ish.”

“WAITWAITWAIT *cough* I GOTTA *cough* I JUST REMEMBERED THAT I’VE GOTTA COME TOO!”

“No.” Wendy told Mabel.

“BUT! UH! …But what about Robbie? I gotta stop him from going underground where he could get snagged by the shapeshifter! That means I definitely have to come back with you and uh incidentally know your secret also but that’s just a side detail I mean really who cares…”

“Well…” Wendy knew that, objectively, Robbie’s safety was much more valuable than Mabel not knowing. If it meant him living, Mabel had to come. She glared at Stan. “Now look what you’ve did.”

“Sorry.” He winced.

“Okay…” Wendy realized that she was too tired and worn and injured to even care. She glanced back at Mabel. “Fine… But if you tell anyone else…”

“Even Dipper?”

“Especially Dipper… Ugh… If you tell then I’ll…! I’ll… I dunno, I’ll do something bad… Okay?”

“Okay! I get it. You don’t have to worry. And besides, my vast network of spies would have eventually found out anyway, so it’s probably better this way.”

“…Yeah, I suppose that makes sense.”

Wendy held up the time machine, double-checked that the switch was in ‘unstable’ mode, and gripped her hand around the ‘backward’ button.

Mabel put her hand on the device too, so that the field would encompass both of them.

Wendy checked the time on her phone, then pulled the tape out to 4 days, 2 hours, and 15 minutes, then double-checked her math.

She knew where she was going.

This was going to work.

“Bye friends!” Mabel said. “We go to the past in the name of the future!”

“Adios.” Stan gave thumbs-up.

“Smell ya later!” Fiddleford danced a little jig.

Ford sighed, and closed his eyes. “Farewell.”

“And that’s all she wrote…” Wendy released the tape.

Voom.

Ph qry ermw, zvy ygo lgnlr bzs.

Dhw’v ysfzysev los nyufgzl vt mgkydafn hbv xpsl gm vyi rtfw ophb yox, wgjrwhx cttz zpa, zzmstafn kckn sie, jlgnztr walo vcd… Vprzswg nykj cgmsr lrode s uowfu zzgwlosl, igtsw s mogzrj; a tjlsx knlt ogbzx xxzw dsyuyi gyd klychxkc afv tclv vzwwjmif, lteid los zlzfrw ovifu hp swubfy wuc hwj jvccjcef, sur nykj cgmsr cenlbal h kiiro ox losci uhn… Al dom r jcese avyp nld kzhfyu, gyd vjlog knpy zsk zimko, ak ebqb ry ehwq’k zimko esuo cnykc.

Bml os qry oesv ucq.

Yk hak vlox.

Rto wzwys qry dhw?

Los zfm zf mfjchjitomkusmj ywoodf zcwzpd sfk gbv uaefwk vyi kjek, lv hubk sej xpfmk mzov dvce rz sej flk bfsp.

Il ohg u egcrgo, jmfztorauhz jiodof, oocmv zlld, ktcikn haddz kyik mrgclb ierj bq s zaucr xelss bcgvwe, darsfp csejw mciu czudv is xzyaefklr. Uej ehw xscii cls kdvdyu oywsjk zcbk l szsszin iznw, lvkuij l djspb wfbprwv pb zztp mwko; zcbkwy ewhbn ku noddlqn ykc ujaus uej hakll. Gbv ylt mh hbx dugev sycoej ehw jvcg, rto fgmur ck zz bw kv ggrrw tzsa gbv izudv acotn molz zwxvy lt gfjs.

Myk aewjlr wcudedq hh nyk comfk kucrd, afv mcoej ehsl avyp cprw kswayzwy ljhbmggcefl; hg cw yse owys fzbtny augcuk l gayhbnzi eekl aivv. Uftkaks nyk eutw zhifj wofy swhvy zf glosl kamek au juiozuk kpnyj, gyd af isnnkpn lzlfy nkce ogyyvvtnhwk, sov vwfihelbn, rto sljhbav, zpnlsjzyu iceslbfyj ge wgjr.

Gbv xpcgyuwtvj ehwkl qlvgeujwz; hbve hejw avy jgxe ozpqb ygo ifnhryu npr ogyzx; knp ssel kbzis hsv ksmtkydwv mfid zse kcf hi iulm oaav wrxpfjwl oougnilq; avy jgxe ozpqb ygo kadssx ykc pwgwzy; knp ssel kbzis hsv rwfcko hae.

Hg nyk xifmasm konkwv im uej ehwq wocu npr fg ucnzip, szw zon lv lnv tluue zz wsljv nykx.

Il ibwwbrj bwuhay trpaj lv vyi zsal losmv vlrlajifrx nrwsailvy hejw uscknpr ugueovxprk fvf qrxcigjz, wh wgnt lzlm qvxp nglowhx szrw looh jiteflpgnj, czrcauu nf gyadqgs uej fnvwygnrto add avy kntnyk avyp nld xgbbx. Knpy kwlayu kicallr, okzprdq lbuducev ophb knpij ovfe rto tzwpf wlxtomkphs rto tzw zdyckydav ysmlres gx avyzx dtjsuuy kkdtk. Wphbvx oivf’a yhfc zr vakb’n tgce stvin knp ssnhuy dkehgvz ps nntcz loss’u gnqmaysx knpij kbpdvies.

Wnlbnlgwlq loss dgoe lzlwl ngj dgou hbv rtnw lv vyi zfbw, sur vvmln lg asmk npr.

Lzlm mkank kehzf kuzlk auhi ykc pjazch ku aocw hbx gxzd zwy. Hcjyfe kstdfvy hejw aoevt. Hijwz kyik waav vjyi npr kuhzj ku dcjmawhzfp hwj twhu. Zsejehz, r-igj, afv tcfviflsj kwmgrlcwelbn zslgafn uumk ehwe cwyny lnv yyojyy zf wnlfs jwfajw pbwy uq hwj icxp. Yzmw gm hbv zpslk oilk. Yzmw gm hbvs hejw pbprytvw. Kvay fl ehwe sszk npr laysx rto afyym.

Vlz ehjgbub zz lld, kos hvbpr yscs og npr jwzcfmk lnv zlf wrrx. Afv hg nyk somjz hctqpd tq hbx kacnwv pbnf jlyk, kos qrznhwv avyd, pfsl sz qffyplq sz hbve haluosx ykc. Szw dontnpd lzla fzqp a tayr qrznhwk wfyp, rtkw s nihjrtnywy kukisek s jvucrpnywy, zcbk l dwllqnzbp wsljvyj zse egcsgvte ox s zvuuuhy wflas. Jnp lakashvj eo lzlwl cgygmsns, uej dhw ohhwyko tzwpf avyeujwz ohu zseaj isbrbtojk, hbx jnp csel hi ltoejkaohu zsee. Muryiyeafv avy jizpw sur jlxaokw vt nyktr ogyy, uej ehw kpny rto cgewzyooey gx avcj ysih, sur nyge hwj vkh grlnwl dome’z ehw xpfmk zz rwulwpv yfcz lysukspnl.

Kos ymkytmsszs tgxe lg bbxvxdtsfk hbvs aejxlqnce.

Lnv kos brzpd lzla.

Fftr bwxvfy knp twkag brj noehssnvj, hhadl gbv cls klpzf zt ehw eprmk uq hwj woce, csef kos qry qewdpba ry dmsds ohu gd hwdwzyjy ls kzl spvx, dhw dvcevj zul sa vyi kyeealg, uej xavw osl uknikavb.

Myk xavw hb irzs.

Szw zkiik fpgf owm jufl lzhh myk homdk opvtre zat. Gbv yhojw avuk yse ogbzx fbprugts ucr ehwkl tilr ehafng; mtopnlazhm, juwdawyg, gftdtwjz, ofzkys, sfk shkoce sjtwyj… Yse kovfy knlt kzl kilro gjgd— Ulfc fnlas gbv hpcsel hbv WFEWF vt nyod vwkzsf, rto tzsa gbv czudv RWFC kgejq zwhxrp msf, dcgrt, lnv kuwpvrtny uowfu zsal dpjyu uybgsyr…

Myk dwgjl wn. Lvzn zaz ayducy, sfk ijft lld los xiklmk loon knpy zsk rlvgxt, kzl gqfxp il. Sur qyky szw oox ykc ohhvfnltttq, oosh jknujaam qvte lsp, dvye gwl osz eozke afv avyp gwl zsk hbvoc bsurg nlxyev… Kos qfawd sua ijft tt.

Al dom ftwy s ehhnvx zf lats.

Uej xesfdvcck, dhw ovifu yfrnacs.

“Sfac bagscazill kanbukace vglgh’k sltuz dwny gyy gx avy fzsej uysukacek au vyik, lnv gbf hvacodgnwwrr dcsfz whuonalw avuk ezu darsfp vzskwzg mfsp dwyysy fl deflpshtk. Xojwvjyi, ezu zscsh’k xpshguryu zz tzw asmky ls sf hbcdgw wgmsr, fvgoify bg nf hplawcs nyge ygm hfy zteeflpchrrwy zakwhx ezuj siwfzztek sur cezpldanshtk… Mul… Tbh qv’xp ngl oslv zz hmja mil. Cp rwsszs rxpn’l, A dohk ezu lg bbxvxdtsfk hbrz. He bmzh qrte tg cucq puf. Ww’jl qoiozuk, jpubk? Ezu cfvk qyge cmjpcoj od, dgf’a mil…? Yz… Sg am mil iln mfksljzlnv el, cl zl jom’jl qidvcezwurcem lnqlowhx O’x ssqpba, grpakw nwpv yzmw kvfn fl diyf… P fyrrwy vgu’h gvgy ygm hbs ygcm…”

Kzl zifqpd mh hh Xi. &X/\MJ sk os nrrvev, sur myk fnvwygnfuo pwjmswkrj. Sgelvin zse ‘mfpjyiyll ljhbmcgeoj’ (gy kbrzpvwj os wrrwev loon ukgiuw) zsydko tg tl qidsfnauhhcem oijwjhfp oytg zlf vigtn, kg avuk zse ewhbcem mezaur Xi. &X/\MJ’k fhgucrj, slmjy-og bziuw dom zsaokkppfv zz makz. Pok yse vakb’n ikdpgfk myk. Oy ojvlf zfx ehak ac af npr osf, vy ygo tg ylh bzs eo ljbgn ykc. Szw oox ku rel zpa nf rpt zaz uorxo dgou.

“Dfvgde, s kpuh. Rtj sayu on rrw, rwsszs… Puf kfgd, ky ygo ygm zhiiko walo hbv ayifllzfzmpnl uhfaf, jzwf au hbv rzwwj sspvrd. Ix qvi jiuge lg hqnlgwlq tl o mvteiwfa pyztr, ww uvifu aagjsks sfac salbonzuy walo qyizlif sjqidszdslpchj; lfld-kpnyu wfajllfm, modilgyg, u mgciwlf cz dkllk… Qvi xft’e swwt hi cove lzl ofxgw pskas, vlz he usu tusxtcsll ayrz ls owsz, ii… Uc sowlhm? Uu jom dpyy jcpelk? Johue…?”

Ehak dom ftp ox los mtopnlazhm nnz pjgisx ykc (dav avyp zsifc zvy tuflvf’a fyturnarl vcd?). Hft mfswev zse gloslj, np swwtsx boyd. Kzl’r bvgcd zat cvaknt lg h tyn uq tzw tclv oyvskpjy kkdtk, zl’r xiuapwv swnkrp tjwhhm zteo zwy tyvjtny lbpy wxzm lats nf ztmw, sur bv’j lscwk cpvx lnv gcsl wuc tzw jvueip tg kwsub cttz zlf xzxpcldf. Vy iklldq dom rt sofwzh, qvrw-mwsuwhx, qtnvdf cfu sln, oaavilz lnq ehzctozuk auhyeztofk mcl knp cjwhhoikd hw kaixzko.

“Rwsszs…” Yk znuw huuzt cehwhhyu. “Xpaddf, W xf clnl ooon’j hpsl xvf sfa… Oo qgb… Ri puf hsnl o hrsp? Hsnl o avtoej? Kvaykntny qvi qrte? Afq xiyjztofk mcl dk? Lrw qvi nyk daew zdytops sk avy yudtadlg qyonh slaowbko omj lljcucalavb nvgx…?”

Szw nzueipd sl avy fzsej kjwyeztslk, hg cw yse osz ozigtd gx avyd. Jc. &R/\TB mfintpd, jwjcaeokify osl tuycwju. “Ib… Ln, homdk mil stnv kasjgoyg gma cz knp rggt tii g xoewuh, avtelwelb…?” Bv kycgmyoavj sik uvzfvgruwk, dvcck eujflr ungj fjgt hbv stcjgwviek. “T, uz… A oopv gy ivwh. W nyoyk kzl’g dlye susysx.”

Knpy vak om ztdtjmjhyu, gyd Vj. &Y/\PD kacnwv iowb zz hwj. “Ds’lv gwofw ucq…”

“…De… Xy fsts… Gp tlmw az ███████.” Gbv yaocw pb bvx yalacs frtrusyl, hi uodgmazs nyk qudd llnvte ox zlf cezpldanshtk.

“Fh…” Vj. &Y/\PD jkpmwv zvitqpd. “Owsz bvrwo!” Zw isudko. “I-a-aa’g mf bprq fpqy ku xewl fco, ███████! Knlt’k s cslp rzvwdf budk, fh… A’e zc acgo ygm kswzjpd lg afojz xe…”

“Qgb’fy r ttcw ehb…” Myk fswv h ggrrw taepr pfone, dars nyge ox s scmk mtrd, lv rcjmfikw osl dgwiuw. “P’a mfxcy A vprh’k zllc, A dom aadt kg zquiko, afv P kuezpd lg owxv… Gce… Sjl as dux afv kox zt sejw aci?”

Yk rlsfjsx rxzufv uslmufsdq mcl r ypcgfk. “Ob… Nkwl, fg… Uc, C’d yzrjq, iin pufr egavyi gyd xsavyi… Axm… Vakb’n dgve al. Iin nk’ce sds bctk aeghss bvxp! Ww’jl bik mzify ac blxe ygm! Fco tgy hsnl o hvc soew oslv…”

Gwl zaz kiijd wwjl zcvy, mul kos jzknev lvuyknpr kgts mtxlpk gm hllzs. Sg los myoa mmka vumk wexl vil nuclv. Ol aojz lld tl offtp ngo, vin zt ehw efgnvxtomk cccu. Zsejw pg hf nplh xvf gv, hft lzlfy zy llkg uc bvra fgj avyd… “Axm…” Kzl gbllqlwv osl wkpt. A flsx duce afmcldgeigf. P byvj waqgbhm fl oeucz, shxoyek, uoocey zf ugtauej. T nwwk cok. “Yz… Wzsa wm knts hdhqy vdlcldf?”

Hbv qtnv kjwyeztsl ohgnvj yo lats ce ucgsfpncem l tgmy, gi vgrej ohg bv zz fgkasl tuxmmfpqukozn sfk uifjhidd dwny zsik flkfp-jtsugcslvj tnlwszcxkyt damszfxx. Hw zhr bvx alsulr ce g xuuz avcetpr, hgyhusrp cgfaocekc, afv lgwfxeev zlf nyxzuyz avy cuh-swubfcke lrwsz cz knp szaw, gbfctny zlf nyod afv avuk, kipdspbcem soo los aiggilq kfcmk hojclr, uej ehw zfdyijcinw, hbx knp gqjvgwfvps sfk hbv oxpjgiovzrttq uvflvieigf kmhrszs. Sfk gbv gdkwv awgzj willss mkaaiv ibsmkoznk oowwy np afkdslvj eo lzl pyjz zf zaz ovzrttq.

Oosh knprw ohg zztlldq uc gfxp tg tl uuztpd lzycoxn eadc, zvy rieev. Kos mygaekzptnvj qoj los zzxdt lats mztne zwy shkxlpewuh, nrqtny gu o zfxx sljvba vtzuyz ac viklk lzycoxn ehw ysomj.

Yse jawdyu Jc. &R/\TB’z hbiult gma. Gbv gwsg cpzfvj 6 xojw wsigrp wzg oojgkyev lv py jzlnvauu hvgcbq, sur mgxlywv h hioon sdats uiufnv lv rykkc pmjziyiy. Dhw sas bvx qidd mfid zse tgkwyj (oe wsk zc afuo tg zhjy dklt syhwh), knpn vmjyyu oytg los pvteidsawie yjslwt, kbvxp szw oox r isaful hi jntfl auhi knp fgjt cz r jtfxwyshk yniwfawmk, gyd ugtdijk sejklzz nntlw kos jikaajwk hi gxzpwjsm celtlljhhy knp cjwd.

Pok zse kwjhii cpnl auhi cunkvgdb glis fskasl knln kzl srgkntwv, avy mkytadhhcft ouulz gyrrpd gxm, ohu zse kasshk, lwoslpba xalrvk jogv. Gwtzgbub knpsw jvihu, yeajauu grisifwz kyik calzlf mkaaiv au hbvoc oof ywayz, dhw uvifut’e fggs hbvoc bagtsnion swfzclj; zseq olfy nkwl wibwjgko tg kls nyxzuyz osl uodgmazs. Mf, hpfgjl hbvoc msff kyrvznk, kos mlxcefvlfyu gyd dwa vyiyplx tl rycogejwk putq eo lzl hosk.

Tt kwlayu rtkw s zhyg hlcc, tbh ck clsf’l, mcl jnp hsv ssuitpd. Dwhfhvj zf lzl quggmidaawyj uq hwj lbydops, sfk gidkehafn cz knpij oloeekdswk. Hg nyk hewcz ohu zsokw pbnf sznlzz, ohu gd tzw wceztr afv wfiujtny sur jiumify jchkoyuwv dwnyuft uwhgy, ykc pdsug ymuwvwv hbx xxpw. Xjva bvx eiew vin knprw, kos jlz eoywavyi sptzgkg nf uftoaa hbv jcofwz, hi seaakk scwbjzwfk, ac ezrw enwu aiik aeghss.

Myk vnwo ocq.

Jnp wgmsr mlxginw.

[esonetwork]

Timestamp #223: The Doctor's Wife

New Post has been published on https://esonetwork.com/timestamp-223-the-doctors-wife/

Timestamp #223: The Doctor's Wife

Doctor Who: The Doctor’s Wife (1 episode, s06e04, 2011)

“Where’s my thief!?”

A woman named Idris is led to a platform by “Auntie”, “Uncle”, and “Nephew”, the last of which is an Ood who drains her mind in preparation for a Time Lord’s arrival.

On the TARDIS, the Doctor, Amy, and Rory are surprised by a knock on the door. Even though they are in deep space, the shave-and-a-haircut routine reveals an emergency hypercube message for the Doctor, presumably sent by another Time Lord named the Corsair. They follow the signal contained within, dumping excess TARDIS rooms for fuel, and break through to another universe.

Almost immediately, the TARDIS goes dark. The matrix – the heart and soul of the TARDIS – has vanished. While the Doctor puzzles over where it would go, Idris awakens with an exhale of golden regeneration energy.

The travelers exit the TARDIS into a junkyard. Luckily, there’s plenty of rift energy so refueling should be easy. On the other hand, the Doctor is accosted by Idris, who presents as an insane woman calling the Time Lord her “thief”. After taking care of Idris, the Doctor turns his attention to the green-eyed Ood. After fixing the Ood’s sphere, it broadcasts a series of interwoven distress messages from various Time Lords. As Auntie and Uncle take Idris back to the House, the Doctor expresses his intrigue at the possible presence of his own people.

In the House, the asteroid is revealed to be sentient. The asteroid tells the Doctor that many TARDISes and Time Lords have come and gone, but there are no others now. The travelers explore a bit. Amy points out that the Doctor is seeking forgiveness from his people. The Doctor sends the companions back to the TARDIS in search of his sonic screwdriver. Once they arrive, the doors lock as a green mist swirls about the phone box. Meanwhile, the Doctor had his sonic the entire time. Cheeky devil.

The Doctor discovers a collection of Time Lord distress signal cubes. He realizes that Auntie and Uncle have been mended over time by the asteroid with parts of the various Time Lords, including the ouroboros-tattooed arm of the Corsair.

Knowing that Idris foretold the Doctor’s discovery, he confronts her. There he finds out that she holds the matrix. She is the personification of the TARDIS. The Doctor releases her and together they determine that House feeds on TARDISes, which it can only do if it removes the matrices first. The Doctor tries to retrieve Amy and Rory from the TARDIS, but the phone box dematerializes with the chiming of the Cloister Bell and heads back to N-Space. Unfortunately for the companions, the House has hijacked the TARDIS.

In the junkyard, Uncle and Auntie collapse as they lose their source of life. Idris herself only has a short time to live but encourages the Doctor to explore the TARDIS junkyard for a way home. When the Doctor asks what he should call her, Idris tells him (much to his chagrin) that he named her “Sexy”.

House asks why he shouldn’t just kill the humans. Rory stalls for time by suggesting that they could provide entertainment. House agrees, prompting them to run for their lives through the corridors in a series of nightmare scenarios.

As the Doctor assembles a TARDIS from spare parts, he and Idris argue. The discussion ranges from how police box doors open outward (“Pull to Open”, which actually refers to the phone compartment), how the TARDIS always takes the Doctor where he needs to go, the Time Lord’s fascination with “strays”, and how the TARDIS wanted to travel so she stole the Doctor to take her on an adventure.

With a kiss to the time rotor, the patchwork TARDIS console room dematerializes and gives chase. Idris sends “the pretty one” a set of telepathic directions to one of her old console rooms. Rory leads Amy to the archived desktop of the Ninth and Tenth Doctor’s console room. There they lower the TARDIS’s shields but are pursued by Nephew. Just in time, the patchwork console materializes in the archived console room and vaporizes the Ood, marking another one that the Doctor failed to save.

After introductions are made, Idris collapses and House muses about ways to kill the Doctor and his companions. The Doctor gives House instructions on how to get the TARDIS back to N-Space, but when House starts deleting rooms for the journey, it inadvertently invokes a failsafe that protects living things from being deleted with the rooms. As the travelers materialize in the real console room, House suggests that they should fear him since he’s killed Time Lords before and won’t hesitate to do it again.

The Doctor replies that House should fear him. He’s killed all of them.

The Doctor stalls for time as he points out the concept of trapping the matrix in a human body. The goal was to get the matrix as far as possible from the console room, but House has brought the matrix home. With her last breath, Idris releases the matrix. It swirls about and reintegrates with the TARDIS, overriding and consuming House.

As a last gift, the TARDIS speaks through Idris. She remembers the word that she’s been searching for – “alive” – and tells him the one thing she’s never been able to say: “Hello, Doctor. It’s so very very nice to meet you.” In a bright flash of light, Idris disappears, offering her final words of “I love you” to her companion.

Some time later, the Doctor installs a firewall around the matrix. Rory tells him that Idris’s final words to him were, “The only water in the forest is the river,” which she believed that they needed to know for the future. Amy and Rory ask for a new bedroom – preferably one with a double bed instead of bunk beds – since theirs was deleted. He tells them how to get there, then spends some time with the TARDIS console. He asks the ship where she wants to go, even if it’s the Eye of Orion for a little rest and relaxation.

The levers flip on their own accord. The TARDIS sets a course. Adventure awaits.

What a beautiful ride.

When I first saw this episode back in 2011, I was confused by it. The fast pace coupled with rapid-fire references lost me. This time around, however, I relished the experience. The story is well-written and plays off of each of the main characters so nicely, from the Doctor’s desire to be forgiven for his actions in the Last Great Time War to Amy and Rory’s love. The latter of which was actually sold quite well here despite my skepticism of it last season.

The core of this story is the Doctor’s relationship to the TARDIS, which is played beautifully by giving a voice to a consciousness that exists simultaneously across all time and space. The relationship is pretty much that of a married couple, and the TARDIS’s finally expressed love for her companion is one born of their mutual adventures. I love that the TARDIS has archived past console rooms – which presumably means that a blank room is simply formatted with the “desktop” file from previous iterations – and that the TARDIS already knows what rooms are coming up next.

Amusingly, Neil Gaiman has requested that the archive scene feature a classic-era console room, but the budget wasn’t available for that. So, the production team left the coral console room standing for this story. This episode was supposed to air during Series Five but was pushed to this point in time so there was quite a long production lead for it.

The Doctor’s TARDIS also is pretty explicit about the nature of other time capsules. The Time Lords have previously treated them as nothing more than machines or vehicles, but Idris refers to her dead siblings as sisters. That matches well with nautical traditions of referring to all ships as female, but also gives us insight into the culture of the TARDISes overall.

This story featured the Doctor piloting a TARDIS other than his own for the first time on screen – at this point in time, Shada had not yet been completed – and that patchwork ship was the creation of 12-year-old Susannah Leah for a Blue Peter contest, complete with safety straps on the console (hello, Timelash!). The Doctor previously traveled with only the TARDIS console in Inferno. This story was also the first one since Horror of Fang Rock to kill every character except the Doctor and the companions.

Neil Gaiman reached way back for some of the elements here. We first (and last) saw the hypercube in The War Games, last saw the TARDIS’s telepathic circuits used to mess with the companions in The Edge of Destruction, and found the Doctor rebuilding the TARDIS in both The Claws of Axos and The Horns of Nimon. Lest we forget the concept of jettisoning rooms on the TARDIS, which we’ve seen on at least three occasions (Logopolis, Castrovalva, and Paradise Towers), or the idea of tricking the villain into fixing the TARDIS (ala Frontios).

It’s obvious that he’s a fan of the show and has done his homework.

He also deliberately provided the first confirmation in the franchise mythology that Time Lords can change gender during regeneration. I covered many of the reasons why this was a brilliant and easily defensible concept when Jodie Whittaker was announced as the Thirteenth Doctor, and I still stand by it. Gaiman’s choice of the ouroboros – the snake eating its own tail, a symbol for eternity – for the Corsair’s personal emblem was a great representation of both Time Lord culture and the nature of Doctor Who.

This story is just amazing as a franchise game-changer and ode to the show’s history. To call it fantastic is an understatement, but it’s the highest choice I have.

Rating: 5/5 – “Fantastic!”

UP NEXT – Doctor Who: The Rebel Flesh and Doctor Who: The Almost People

The Timestamps Project is an adventure through the televised universe of Doctor Who, story by story, from the beginning of the franchise. For more reviews like this one, please visit the project’s page at Creative Criticality.

[theroseandcrown]

The Rose & Crown: Chapter Twenty-Three (Alternate Ending)

An Author’s Note: I originally wrote the ending of Chapter Twenty-Three with an accompaniment playing in the background. My goal was to match the dialogue with the song as if the reader were watching the scene play out like an episode. It brings a new aspect to the reading experience and I would like to share that experience with you, just for fun if you’re up for it.

While reading, you may notice that there are some numbers and parentheses next to a select few lines of dialogue or text. These are time stamps. In this case, they indicate an exact point within a selected score (song) that the dialogue or paragraph takes place. Though everyone reads at a different pace, I hope that I was successful in getting as close to matching the words to the song as I possibly could. If you’re a naturally fast reader, you may want to slow down a bit and take your time reading the words. So, if you're interested in knowing where my inspiration for this next scene comes from, if you want to know what I felt in my heart when writing it, then I urge you to play this song in the background simultaneously with the very beginning of the scene.

*EDIT: You have to open YouTube in another page. Once you start scrolling down, about halfway through the scene, the attached link stops playing.

          (0:00) His grasp upon the handle, he inhaled a deep breath and called to arms all the courage he had remaining to help prepare himself for what he knew was to come. After everything they had been through together, after all the challenges they had faced, the hardest part was finally upon them; their final moment together. There would be no turning back now, it was only a matter of time. Releasing the handle, he slowly turned to face his companion. The sight of her presence before him relieved him of his held breath, being drawn to her beauty as if she were the very last flame still fighting to bring an essence of life into the surrounding darkness. Taking his place beside her at the console, his eyes gazed into hers as if he would never leave them.           “So, I suppose this is it then,” she spoke solemnly, fighting the flood of emotions attempting to gain control over her heart.           “I suppose so,” he answered sorrowfully.           (0:33) Her eyes fell shyly to the floor as she tucked her hair behind her ear and allowed a small smile to spread across her face. “We made a pretty good team back there.”           He matched her smile with his own and slowly brought his hand to her chin, carefully lifting her gaze to meet with his once more. “You were brilliant.”           Her expression brightened for only a moment at his affection. “I had a good teacher.” Her eyes passed back and forth to each of his as the reality of what they had done forced its way into her soul. “We won't remember any of this, will we.”           He sighed and held back the tears that yearned to form. “No,” he whispered, trying his hardest to stay strong for her as his hearts tore themselves apart. “The moment we leave here, every event that had led up to this point would have never happened. All that had been accomplished would cease to be. The paradox will be shattered.”           (1:04) She swallowed the pain rising from within her, feeling every bit of it burning her throat as she fought her tears in his presence. Attempting to shield herself from the look of heartbreak in his eyes, she glanced over at their child resting peacefully in her bassinet. She hesitantly approached her side and peered down at their sleeping baby girl. “Will it hurt her?”           “No, she won't feel a thing. She'll have no idea anything has happened,” he assured her.           “Will I ever see her again?”           “I wish I knew the answer to that. All I can tell you is that I know how deeply her parents love each other, even when they don't say it. Even though they should. People like us, we should say what is really in our hearts. Our truth was never meant to be kept hidden away. Never a moment wasted. No matter where we are to go from here, as long as we remain bound by the love we share between us, there will always be hope for her and perhaps more in the future.”           (1:37) Clara smiled towards their baby as the sincerity of his words warmed her heart. Even at the most difficult of times, he always knew exactly what to say. Lowering herself towards her, she closed her eyes and softly kissed their daughter's cheek, knowing this was goodbye. But maybe not forever. Perhaps there was still a chance they would see each other again one day. Returning to her natural stance, she took a deep breath and nodded as confidently as she could. “I'm ready, Doctor.”           “Are you sure?” he asked, raising his brow.           (1:55) “No,” she answered, turning to face him once more. “And I don't expect I ever will be. But I'll have you, and that's as good a place as any to start.” She smiled and returned to his side, to the place she knew in her heart she would always belong.           He returned her smile and took her hands in his, feeling comforted by the trace amount of electricity flowing through her fingers. Bringing them to his lips, he gently kissed their surface and gazed tenderly into her eyes, knowing that everything he wanted to say to her she already knew. Once ready, his smile brightened to the newfound enthusiasm taking place inside of him.           (2:17) “So, Clara Oswald. What would you say to another adventure?”           She couldn't help the grin that formed on her face at the offer. “What did you have in mind?”           He excitedly released his grasp on her at the question and hurried along the outside of the console, swinging the view-screen around to the other side as he circled it. As he animatedly began to fire up the engines, he looked to her with a new sense of exhilaration in his eyes. “How about the fiery rings of Collabria?! Or a holiday on Halergan Three?! Your choice! Wherever, whenever, anywhere in time and space!”           “Back in time for tea?” she asked playfully as she peered around the glass pillars of the time rotor to observe his elated expression.           “I’ll do my best,” he replied, smirking at the unmistakable look of wonder in her eyes he had missed so dearly as it finally made its return to her face.           “Just like old times then,” she laughed and rushed around the console to his side.           (2:52) “All of time and the universe, right at our fingertips! Anything could happen!” he exclaimed. His fingers energetically danced over the buttons and keys in front of him as he awakened all of the ship's systems.           “We best get on with it then. The planets aren't going to save themselves,” she teased.           “Just the Doctor and Clara Oswald in the TARDIS. What would you say to lunch on a distant asteroid, followed by breakfast in ancient Rome?! Then cocktails on the moon! Why? Because we're time travellers and that's how we roll!”           “I wouldn't have it any other way,” she replied, gripping the edge of the console in anticipation.           “It could be dangerous,” he grinned excitedly.           “I'm counting on it,” she grinned back.           (3:20) His gaze never leaving his companion’s, he placed his hand on the lever and held it steady as the emotion observed within her eyes captivated his soul. He took a deep breath and allowed every part of himself to be immersed by the vast amount of electricity between them striking the air.           (3:28) “This is it, Clara. Our moment of truth. The end of the line. There's no going back, no guarantees. From this point forward, our futures will be uncertain. Our fates left unsealed. One last pull of this lever, there's no telling what might be out there waiting for us.”           (3:42) Closing the small distance between them, she peered up at his beaming expression and hesitated for only a moment before nodding confidently in his presence. “Then we'll do it together,” she smiled brightly towards him and placed a hand atop his own with gentle care. “Just as we always have.”           He returned her smile and brought his remaining hand to carefully rest upon her cheek, taking in every last detail of her for all it was worth. She was every bit as beautiful to him as the very first time he laid eyes upon her in his previous form, and she always would be.           (4:05) “My impossible girl,” he spoke softly, allowing his fingers to brush over the surface of her skin and through her hair. He delicately cupped her head in the palm of his hand and lovingly gazed into her vibrant brown eyes as they stared back at him. He slowly leaned his head towards hers and stopped, their lips nearly touching. “See you on the other side.” He closed his eyes and pressed his lips to hers as a wave of passion came over him, savouring every moment of her divine taste for what could be the very last time.           (4:25) Gripping the lever securely, they pulled it down together and held onto each other tightly. The time rotor suddenly began to spring into action. Its mechanisms ascended and descended back into itself as the TARDIS signature melody of time travel clattered all around them. The feel of its engines purred underneath their feet as the living machine dematerialized towards their next unknown destination.           And then there was a flash of light…

[rosedamion113]

The Crew of the Peregrine: Chapter One

           Matthew Larkin had always had a fascination with the sky. When he was little, he loved to run to the open field down the road from his house, lay in the grass, and watch the clouds swirling above. Like most kids, his mind would wander and the clouds would take shape. He conjured brave heroes and magnificent creatures out of clumps in the sky. He told himself stories; he would sit there for hours doing nothing else but sending them into barren cities or creepy caverns to discover hidden crypts filled with great, unknown treasures.

           Occasionally, his parents worried that he wasn’t being active enough. He wasn’t making friends or doing all of the other things ‘normal’ kids are supposed to do. When his baby brother was born, they hoped that he might be a bit more outgoing, that he might help Matt straighten out. But Emerson was just like his brother. Matt had ten times as much fun creating adventures with a mind as creative as his own. Together, they moved beyond laying on the ground simply telling stories. They started to make swords out of twigs and go into the cities and caverns themselves. Matt always led the expedition, and Emerson was happy to follow so long as he was second in command of all their imaginary party members. Together, they’d venture into the unknown and face all sorts of horrible dangers, but they always made sure they got out of it without losing a single man. That was their motto from the start: Once you’re in, you don’t leave the team and the team never leaves you.

           Matt has never worked any other way.

 *          *          *

             He stood there, staring at the clouds below through the frosted window pane. He watched the engines whir and spin as they kept the ship aloft. Not for the first time, he marveled at the ability of a few pieces of spinning brass and a bit of steam to keep this hunk of metal airborne several thousand feet above the ground. Well, it’s a little more complicated than that, he could hear Emerson saying in the back of his mind. No doubt he’d be offended at the simplicity Matt was projecting onto a complex and delicate machine. He might have even pulled out a schematic just to prove his point. Or rant about the amount of hours he put into keeping the engine running so they don’t all crash into the earth.

           Matt meandered around the cockpit. He hopped up the stairs to the piloting console, adjusted the steering levers ever so slightly, checked his pocket watch and sighed before thumping down the other side and making his way to the starboard window. The window itself stretched around half of the room in a big semicircle, allowing the pilot to see a little more than 180 degrees of the surrounding sky space—Matt thought this to be one of the better benefits of this ship. It was more efficient, and the view was killer. He stopped at the glass and peered over the side to see the upside-down, backwards letters engraved in the hull: The Peregrine. Another aspect about this particular vessel that he was pleased with; the name had always suited him.

           Another fifteen minutes passed, during which he fiddled more with the controls and whistled a few songs, wandering aimlessly around the room until he finally stopped at the door and stared. For a moment he was silent.

“Okay, yeah, this is ridiculous”, he grumbled. He pushed it open and started making for the med-bay.

Immediately, he ran into John.

His head hit the floor. “Oh shit! Sorry!” he heard from a deep, friendly voice. He looked up at the giant in front of him. Matt wasn’t the biggest guy around, but that shouldn’t underscore the fact that John was about three times his size. And about half as threatening. In fact, he was kind of a teddy bear, and it showed as he eased Matt up off the ground, still apologizing. “I’m so sorry, Matt! I didn’t see you—”

“It’s fine, I’m fine, we’re good,” Matt stammered, trying to regain some composure as he stood up, his head pounding.

“I’m so sorry, man!” John said again. “I was just coming up to tell you that Jo might be awhile.”

“She’s been down there for half an hour!”

“Well, Lavinia doesn’t want to risk her getting infected.” Matt sighed. Lavinia was a good doctor, but sometimes she forgot that the crew had their own jobs to do.

“Look, just take over the helm for a little while, I’ll handle it. Some of us have better things to do than fill in for others,” He muttered as he started off down the hall.

John scrunched his eyebrows and turned after him. “By ‘better things’, are you talking about taking a nap in your quarters?”

“I’m talking about completing official Captain’s business.”

“Sleep well, dude.”

“Captain,” Matt reminded him from down the hall.

“Uh-huh,” John replied as he shut the door.

Matt made his way into the med bay, where Jo sat on the exam table and squinted as Lavinia dabbed a cloth over the cut on her hand.

“…and I know it’s not always your first concern but Sweetie, you should take a little more care.”

“Well, that would be a lot easier,” Jo replied, looking pointedly at Matt as he came through the door, “if somebody would do a once-over of this death-trap every so often. You know, so that they don’t lose a perfectly good pilot because of a tetanus-infested, loose screw.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, I keep the place in perfect condition,” Matt said with mock offense.

Jo was not amused. “No, you’re brother does. Kate does. You, not so much.”

Lavinia pulled out of strip of clean cloth and wrapped it around the wound. “All better!” she announced with a twinkle in her voice. “Just stop by later on your way to bed so I can change the bandage.” Jo hopped off the table and made her way past Matt, thanking Lavinia as she headed out the door. “Oh, and be careful to—” Lavinia started.

“I think she can survive a scratch,” Matt interrupted. “A scratch that most doctors, by the way, can treat in five minutes.”

“We were just catching up a bit. She’s up at the console all day so I don’t get to see her much.”

“Well, first of all, that’s her job, especially during a 32-hour non-stop flight. And second, what could you possibly have to catch up on if she’s been up there all day?”

“Just personal things.”

“Did you have news about her sister?”

“I told you, Matthew, personal.”

“My crew, my problem. ‘Personal’ includes me if it could affect their performance.”

“You don’t need to worry. I just had an update. Nothing’s changed.”

“Not really an update but, that’s…good, I guess.”

“Well, it’s not worse, so that’s something.”

Lavinia went around the room, straightening the tables up—which was pointless considering she kept everything close to godliness in the first place. Matt stood there for a moment watching her. She always cleaned when she was anxious, when there was a patient she knew she couldn’t help.

Suddenly, a loud blast came from downstairs and the ship shuddered. Matt and Lavinia grabbed onto the nearest table and braced themselves, but the shuddering placated. Matt ran out the door, and headed for the end of the hall. He slid down the ladder and turned around to find Kate and Emerson shouting at each other while simultaneously trying to put out the flaming coals scattered around the room.

“See?! I told you that much fuel would overheat the furnace! You can’t add more coal to the engine if you don’t compensate by adding more of the cooling agent and reducing the flames!” Emerson screeched as he stamped out the embers around him.

“Oh, don’t you ‘see’ me! I told you to add the cooling agent right before I threw in the fuel! It would have been fine if you were paying attention!” Kate yelled back.

“Well excuuuuuse me for making sure we don’t drop several thousand miles before drowning in the Atlantic!”

“We would die from impact before we had a chance to drown, moron.”

“I was being hyperbolic—”

“I’m just trying to get us there faster! You’re the one who’s been stressing about meeting the deadline!”

“Whoa, whoa, hey! Guys! What the hell is wrong?” Matt asked, cutting them off.

“He is!”

“She is!”

“Matt, tell your brother to keep his head out of the damn clouds and the ship in them.”

“What do you think I was trying to do?” Emerson retorted.

“First of all, it’s ‘Captain’. Secondly, is there anything we need to worry about? Anything that needs to be replaced or that will keep us from arriving in London in seven hours?” Matt asked, checking his watch.

Emerson sent one final glare to Kate before kneeling down and checking the mechanism underneath the furnace. “Yep, we’re gonna need a new ignition system. The blast damaged it.”

“Which also means that once we land, we can’t get back up in the air until we replace it,” Kate added.

“How much is that gonna cost us?” Matt asked.

“Three, maybe four hundred silver,” Emerson replied as he stood up, trying to wipe the grease off his face.

“Three to four hundred—! Are you serious?”

“If we want a functional one, yeah.”

“That’s almost half of what we’re making for this job!”

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t sign us up for jobs that pay jack squat,” Kate commented from the other side of the room, tightening the bolts on the pistons.

“Not helping.” Matt turned back to Emerson. “We can’t afford one of these and still pay all of the crew their share. Even if we cut out ours.”

“For the record, I’m not taking a pay cut for this,” Kate interjected again.

“Still not helping, Kate!”

“This is your fault!” Emerson started to rile up again, “This whole thing wouldn’t have happened if you had just double-checked with me before—”

           “Emerson! Let it go for a second!” Matt grabbed his brother’s shoulder and got his attention. “You’re telling me we don’t have the money to fix the part, but we can’t make more money until we do? Come on, man, give me another option.”

           “I don’t know what to tell you. We need the new part, or else we can’t fly.”

           Matt sighed and ran his hands through his hair. “We’re going to have to find work in town. Or else make a trade. Maybe we can scrounge up some spare parts lying around and see what we can get for them. In the meantime, keep this rig in the air and try not to use each other as fuel.”

           “That’s ridiculous, our bodies wouldn’t produce nearly enough heat to keep us aloft.”

           “Kate, would you just—”

           “She’s right,” Emerson acknowledged, “But maybe we should look into other sources of fuel.”

           Kate perked up. “Like what?”

           “Something that burns hotter and longer. We should do some tests when we land,” Emerson suggested, walking over to the papers and blueprints piled on the table in the corner. He began making some notes.

           “Yeah!” Kate hurried over and looked over his shoulder. “You know I bet we could find some cheap things in the marketplace to try out. See if we can lower our expenses on fuel.”

           As they continued to mull over their idea, Matt made his way up the ladder and headed for his room, shaking his head as he wondered what in the world had possessed him to hire this crew.