The 11th Professor Adventures - Episode 2 - Reunion, Part 2

 Episode 2 - Reunion, Part 2

The Professor held up the reports next to the X-Ray, in near total shock of what he was seeing. Without the information gained from the report, it looked like just a simple brain scan, maybe an indention or two in the wrong place but could have been written off as a concussion or damage from a car accident or something similar. Then the eyes went to the report. The interior of the skull was completely dry. Nothing, no chemicals that supported life, or kept the brain running were within the skull. In fact, if the report was to be believed, it was like the skull itself had been turned into a vacuum state.

“Dear Guardians…” The Professor mumbled to himself as he eyed the report again, his eyes locked onto every word, every number that he could see. Each reading zero, or “unable to detect”.

The coroner shook slightly, trying to regain his composure but the Professor could tell, even not looking back at him, that his mind was trying to comprehend what was going on. “I saw the report, and I couldn’t believe it. Brain Chemicals? Adrenaline, Pure Adrenaline, just…” He muttered to himself again, the shock having obviously gotten to him.

“Can I take these back up with me, have a look at them in my office?” The Professor spoke. Best to keep with the facade, and not add to the older man’s troubles, hearing him as he slowly slid back into a chair, the creaks and groans from the stretching metal as the coroner settled into it. All he could do was nod at the request, his hands covering his face, his stomach twisting and turning in his gut.

He quickly stuffed both the X-Ray and the reports into his green jacket pocket, trying to be careful as to not bend the x-ray anymore than was necessary. He was feeling sick, doing so, holding that bit of information from the coroner, even if he couldn’t understand the specifics of how chemicals in the brain could be stolen to the point it was for that poor individual on the table. For him, for this moment, he had to find out the answer, so he headed back for the door out of the morgue, when he ran face to face in front of a police officer.

Rather, a police detective. A woman, in her late 40s, with slightly thinning black hair, with a long since burned in orange streak in it from a wild youth long since passed her by. Her brown eyes looked at his face with almost immediate recognition, although she tried to keep her cool, the Professor caught a quick smile forming on her old sun-kissed lips, cracked from age, but still, even with the slight wrinkles of age on her face and the general feeling of tiredness, she gave off some sense of adventure, even as the two looked direct at each other.

“I believe…” She spoke with a slightly authoritative voice, to hide her surprise and joy that was quickly becoming clear on her face. “That we both need a conference over that information, Doctor.” She looked him right in the eye. “After all, that is my case you’re walking off with vital evidence for.”

—-------------------

It annoyed her. Everything about this situation annoyed the red headed doctor, especially given how and what she needed to do in order to just get primitive pickings to her. However, having been here for a few months, she had learned a few things for example. Instead of preying or testing on the ones who came in at random, she learned to get the right age group she needed for her experiments, by using the young’s ability and desire to impress and show off. All it took was a little meddling, even with this planet’s primitive Artificial Intelligence systems, a pink pigmented paper, and the deal was made.

Next, she needed to get the situation out. Then came this individual she was now meeting with in the parking garage to the hospital, both of them bound up in coats as the cold air ran and searched to get to any bare skin that it could, searching for warmth. A primitive punk in their own right, all she could see is the big sunglasses that adorn their face, and a mask that still was unable to hide the frosty air coming from it.

“You got the goods?” That was another thing that drove her mad about this individual, the way they talked, cutting out verbs and vowels and speaking almost in tongues, it drove her mad just standing here with them.

“They are in my office, as usual.” The red haired doctor spoke back to her young friend. “And might I add just how dangerous it is for you to be meeting me out here in the open?”

“Just some insurance, doc, so nuthin’ cuts me out of this situation.” Internally she groaned. If only she didn’t- For the briefest of moments, her eye caught something, at the door, hearing for one of the nearby “automobiles” that earthlings used to travel around from place to place. Two people, two unique, and stand out people who would stick out from the crowd.. One of them was that infuriating police detective who drove her just as mad as the person before her, but the other one was what had her eye on more. The coat. The green coat, which clung to the man walking with the detective, with an odd expression upon his face. Her eyes sparkled, and a chuckle, a muffled chuckle anyway, hid within the scarf. Perhaps things got a lot more interesting after all.

“Doc?” The ruffian spoke back to her. “Doc, ya hearin’ me?”

She looked to the now-useless man before her, the teenager ruffian, the now purely sack of chemicals and- Her mind then clicked into place. Every experiment, no matter how small, needs test subjects to prove a theory after all, especially one as important as Adrenaline rushes. Her ruby red lips smirked, as she offered the ruffian a hand. “I have been.” She spoke. “And I think for all the hard work you’ve done, you deserve a little…bonus, for helping me unload some of those papers.” Internally, she almost laughed, seeing the ruffian straighten up, taking the compliments right on the chin. Primitives are always easy to control, in one of two ways. Either by power and showing one’s control, or by flattering them with simple responses in order to get them to do what you wished.

So as she walked the ruffian into the hospital, she slowly put her hand into her pocket, feeling the needle she had at the ready, her ruby red lips curled into a tiny smile. Things just got a lot more interesting for her, as the doors shut behind the two.

—----------------

Some time later, the Professor and the female Traffic detective found themselves back in her precinct, back on HER home turf for a change. The common room wasn’t something to write home about, a large room about the size of a school gymnasium, full of desks from wall to wall, about 15 to 20, maybe more, with papers and filing cabinets and water fountains and coffee machines, it was like a writer’s room for a daytime soap opera, that’s not adding in the noises from drunken drivers at desks, computer hums, the old lights, barely any peace and quiet for anyone. Yet, shoved in the back of the room, at her own desk, the two found such a moment. The woman worked on her typewriter, writing out a report, taking a couple looks in the Professor’s direction as she worked, looking over the coroner’s report, to make sure her report was full and complete.

The Professor looked a little annoyed however at the situation, having spent some time now in what he felt was the hot seat. “Now l-”

She raised a finger to him to be quiet.

“Now wait-”

She raised another finger, pulling out a notepad and putting it between the two of them, and a pen at the ready, making a swirling motion around the room. Open ears. With that clear, she nods slightly, and with her other hand quickly writes down on the notepad. “Hello, Teach.”

The Professor slowly looked to the notepad, then to the woman, squinting his eyes, as he looked at her hair, and then her eyes. Those brown eyes, that spark something deep within his memory of a long time ago, of a much different man, a young man with long silver hair that slowly flowed from his head, and whose hearts beat out kindness with every skip, to relearn the emotion with full force, after everything the war had done to him, and after everything he did after the war to try and bury every wound that ached and burned within him. As the memories slowly came to him, she smiled slightly at him, looking around again to make sure no one else was watching them, as she wrote another line down on the paper.

“Everything alright?”

The Professor looked at her with genuine interest on his face. He knew this woman, he knew it, but given his recent regeneration, even if his mind was back together, it was like trying to find a needle in a haystack on trying to recall who, so his eyes slowly examined the desk before him, the older computer set up and at the ready to be used, the typewriter all ready and cleaned, obviously taken care of, like it was a familiar piece to her work, other odds and ends that one would expect, a name plate…Lily Winters. In bold, gold lettering, right on the desk before him, spoke the name of this woman. Lily Winters. Detective Lily Winters, Traffic Division.

His mind harkened back to the two companions he had when he was the kind young man, with silver hair that shone like shiny metal in certain lights. Back then, he never thought he would take on companions again, especially after his first attempts after losing one…hurt him, in far more ways than one could imagine. But, his hearts latched quickly onto two individuals who he met on his travels soon after he transformed into his Sixth face. One of which was a living scarecrow from a land of magic, who he had offered help to find what he was missing, and he never could figure it out, even when asked about it, he just knew that something was missing and wanted to find it somehow. It was this quest in which he found his own heart, compassion for the very creatures who he was built to scare away, and created for them when he finally made it home a sanctuary for them, a farm for them to be safe and merry to them.

A family to call his own.

As he looked at the nameplate on her desk, a memory struck him, of his other companion during that time, of a 16 year old rebel, who wanted an avenue of escape away from the toils of near modern day Earth, around the turn of the millennium, trying to find a way and find out just what type of person she wanted to be, and how she truly felt. 

He slowly turned to this woman, this female detective, and a grin slowly creeped across his lips, as the aura of recognition slowly came across his mind, to the point he didn’t even notice himself take the pin from the notepad and quickly write down the word “Lily?”

The female detective slowly nodded in response, giving back a small smile to her old friend, almost in shock at seeing him like this, her friend from so long ago reborn into this new face, with new clothes, everything different. She grinned, taking the pen and quickly wrote on the notepad. “I know you told me about how you change your face, but I never-” She paused a bit, still in a bit of a shock at seeing her friend after all these years. “It’s just so nice to see you.”

“How long has it been?” He quickly scribbled down in response.

“30 years, Teach.” She can see the shock on his face now, as she was writing the number down like some kind of host, or the woman who turned the letters on the Wheel of Fortune (Why she never even bothered to learn her name, well, she just never clicked with game shows, she found them to be too much like a scam, given where she had worked for so long), but now here she was, face to face with her best friend again, who quickly took another look around their surroundings, before looking back, and slowly pointing at her with disbelief. She chuckled, and nodded.

“Shocking choice of career, isn’t it Teach?”

“Am I still talking to the same Lily?” The two chuckled again at that response. “Forgive me, Lily, I understand we have to keep our conversation on paper, given, well, how insane it might sound to some of these people.”

“Insane?” She quickly scribbled. “Teach, whenever I have someone ask about Jack, I had to say it was someone in cosplay, or someone dressed up for Halloween!” She smiled a bit, feeling the picture she kept in her coat pocket for a moment, her old heart aching as her memories of her youth, traveling the Multiverse when she was a teenager with the man of kindness and the living scarecrow. “I’m already trying to be forced out after 25 years, that’ll just be the ticket for them to sign me out and go.”

“Forced out?” He looked at her with sad interest. “What do you mean, forced out?”

“After 20 years, Teach, they like to have new faces come in, and so they will try or do anything to make you retire and take the pension and head out.” She looked at him, giving him a slight smile to cheer him up, as she ripped off the page, and quickly folded it into her desk. “But enough about that, what brought you here, Teach? What made you so scared about these reports?”

—-----------------------

The sounds of the heart monitor nearly drove her mad, as she watched her newest test subject with interest. Having marked the hospital room with a quarantine sign, here the red haired doctor could have perfect silence in testing her newest test, that is, given the loud beeping of that archaic contraption she is forced to use along with whatever she happened to have on her person.

Laying on the hospital bed, hooked up with enough machines he could have been confused with the six million dollar man, was the ruffian who not even a few minutes ago was a crucial part in her plan for chemical collection. Well, that was, until she saw the man with the green coat with the detective leaving, anyway. Now, his usefulness is that of a different shade, a different purpose to his life, that just might be able to solve both her experiment, and that damn problem before it even gets off the ground. With the flick of her wrist, she unsheathes another syringe, full of adrenaline chemical, mixed with a few more chemicals of her own devising, and slowly injected it into the ruffian’s vein in their neck, as she watched the heart monitor momentarily spike, before returning to normal, a grin forming across her ruby red lips as she checked her glass screen device, watching the brain activity.

“Malleable, and useful, as usual, Earthlings.” She said with a slight pause, watching the activity chars go wild as the now 3rd dose of adrenaline hit the brain, making it all light up on overdrive, the smirk on her face getting wider and wider. “A perfect use for Golem-like creation, had I gained the full marks I needed, however, this shall suffice for now.” With that, she slowly leaned down next to the ruffian’s right ear, putting her mouth close enough so there would be no doubt in them hearing her commands.

“There is a man that endangers our work.” The ruffian’s eyes snapped open, bloodshot and crazed, but his mouth looked almost glued shut, staring blankly into the ceiling with a wild expression, his fingers having clawed up, gripping tight onto the hospital bed’s mattress. The animal instinct had taken over, and all that remained within the mind of the ruffian was now that of the hunter’s instinct. The red haired doctor grinned with delight at seeing this. Of course it was a little butchered, nothing like she had hoped, but this was her first test run, and she had a lot more to test, so seeing how they reacted to each and every sound, watching its head twitch to the beeps on the heart monitor, gave her a sort of proud ecstasy building in her cold, calculating hearts. “He wears a green coat, as dark as the forest leaves. He seeks to ruin our work. He must be stopped, by any means necessary. Do you understand?”

The creature she had created let out an animalistic snarl, saliva forming fast on the once glued lips, its teeth bare to the elements, grinding against each other as it clawed and tore at the hospital bed’s mattress, digging their fingers deeper and deeper within the mattress. She almost laughed, seeing the results of her experiment so clearly on the Earthling, as she slowly stepped back, to give it some room, before pointing to the window. “Now go.” She said with deep authority in her voice. “Hunt the green man, and his friend.” She stared at the creature as it leaped to the floor, snarling and growling, its mind reverting back with every moment, turning more and more into a sort of feral creature with each passing thought. The red haired doctor, however, looked annoyed at her new creature not hearing her order. “HUNT!” She yelled out, and that time, the creature responded, rushing for the window and crashing its was through, full force and balled up, before hurrying out into the small city like some kind of rabid animal, sniffing the air as it ran. Slowly, the red haired doctor walked to the window, watching it run out of view, before letting herself indulge with a little chuckle. 

—--------------------

With the medical reports sprawled out on Lily’s desk, the picture became quickly clear, thanks to the help of a lamp the Professor found crammed into one of the closets lining the common room’s walls that weren’t full of posters and pictures and gods knows what else over nearly 45 years of use. On that lamp, taped carefully as to allow them to see most of it with angled lighting, was the X-Ray the Professor took with him when he took the reports and headed out of the morgue with quickened expediency.

“Drained…” That’s all Lily could mutter as she looked over all of the records, reading each one in her head, running her finger down each one to make sure she was seeing things correctly. Zero. Zero. Unable to Verify. Too small to count. Each verdict, each test that read like that gave Lily more and more goosebumps down the back of her neck, working in tandem with the colder and colder shiver that was working its way down her spine. “How can someone be drained of their brain chemicals and show no damage in the X-Ray?”

“She always was like that, especially after the war…” The Professor’s voice was more colder as his eyes are locked onto the X-Ray, seeing the small tell-tale signs of puncture into the skull, the iv needle holes that unless you were specifically looking for them and knew what you were looking for, they would simply be passed off as ink smudges or shadows on the X-Ray. He slowly took a couple post-it arrows, and posted them to point at the two holes on the top of the skull, feeling sick every moment he continued to look at the shimmering photo, before his eyes finally drifted away and he turned his attention back to Lily.

“She?” She asked The Professor, seeing his disgust in his face as he tried not to look at any of the papers on her desk.

“Ushas.” The Professor spoke with such authority, an authority which she had not heard before come from his voice, the deep seeded anger and contempt for what he had seen in these reports, sparking memories of long ago he would rather not remember with present company, especially seeing in her face how much she was worried, although if it was entirely aimed at him, or if some of that worry was about the situation unfolding on these pieces of paper before them was unknown. “You would know her by a different name, and a different face from long ago, long before the war corrupted her way of thinking and her styles of experimentation.” He cleared out his throat by coughing a bit, just so he can whisper even more softly. “You would know them as the Rani.”

“The…” Lily’s eyes ballooned. “The Rani…The woman who had Jack all those years ago?”

It was a long time ago, one of their first adventures together, when the Professor had discovered that, like he himself had found safety from beyond the confines of their home universe, so too did the Rani, although while the Professor learned, studied, and helped the people he came across, all the Rani could see was new avenues of experimentation and modification through genetics and chemistry. It was a freak meeting and eventual capture that led the silver haired man and the teenage rebel to meet the living scarecrow, and it was this meeting that gave the Professor the first tastes of both friendship and family, helping them escape while hoping to stop the Rani’s mad dash across the multiverse searching for new subjects and avenues of science to explore.

Sadly, as the Professor’s eyes slowly rose up to see that X-Ray again, and the medical reports scattered all across his old friend’s desk, the deep, deep sense of dream hit him all at once all over again. “The very same.” He spoke in a somber tone. “But long after the war had gone and done it’s work to her.”

“The war?” Lily spoke, looking at her old friend with sorrow, genuinely sorry about the next question she had to ask. “You mean the…”

He nodded in response, his eyes starting to glaze slightly over, the thousand yard stare settling in, as the memories came back to him, or rather, the stories of what he was told about her and what he could gather since their last encounter. 

“You met an incarnation of her from before the war. Before the war, she only took just the right amount she would need, you see, to hide any sort of evidence that she would be there at all, Just a chemical or two, spread out, and hid amongst the populace until she could take off and got bored.” He then slowly picked up one of the medical reports, specifically the one which ran the scans on the poor individual’s cranial cavity. “The War changed her. Made her far more bolder. She no longer hid her activities. Hell, some of the horror stories about the war…” He shook his head, not wanting to get off track, and from what he could tell from Lily’s face, it was best not to scare her more than what needed to be. “She stockpiled. Took everything she could on the possibility she would need something to use.”

“But why?” Lily asked, trying to keep her voice down. Even though over 30 years had past, here she was, like she was young again, like on a science fiction show talking about aliens from other planets and stolen body chemicals, gadgets and things and who knew what else would pop out of the woodwork. She was not a simple 25-year Traffic Division detective, she was once again a fascinated youth about the life her friends lived. “Why do this, and how would she stay hidden?”

“She would probably use a disguise here to keep herself at least somewhat hidden. While she had changed in this manner, she is known still in some circles as a Master of Disguise, as to hide from prying eyes while she collected what she needed.” He saw the lightbulb click right over Lily’s head as she spoke. The Professor raised his eyebrow, confused, as she quickly opened the desk’s middle drawer and pulled out fast the old driving permit, the fake, the very thing that started her down this case which led to her reliving her past. She almost felt sick now, holding it in her hands, as she slowly laid it down in front of the Professor. 

“We’ve been tracking some low level rings, using these, giving them to teenagers…” She spoke softly, looking to her old friend as he took the paper and examined it, she noticed almost immediately that he kept tossing it back and forth like he was playing an internal game of hot potato, like the paper was as hot as a pizza straight from the brick oven.

“This should not exist here.” He spoke again, with a little anger undercutting the words. “You can just feel it, not even reading it, feels off…” He looked to her, slowly putting the paper down, and taking her hand, to comfort her. “Has anyone gotten hurt from this?”

“A lot, kids who get them think the moment they’re behind the wheel, the knowledge will have struck them and they would be perfect drivers.” She slowly looked down at the paper again, the phony driver’s permit. “All of them end up in the hospital…”

The silence was deafening.

A bombshell, a large rock dropped in the pool and the shockwaves bouncing every which way, as the realization slowly fell onto both of their faces.

“The Hospital…” Lily said first, her eyes ballooning once again.

“What better place to get chemicals than right under the noses of everyone…” The Professor looked at her with a somewhat shocked expression plastered right across his face. “Hide out amongst the doctors and get the ingredients she requires right from patients and no one would be the wiser…”

Lily slowly looked at her friend, before quickly standing up, dusting herself off and quickly collecting the papers back into a folder, before slipping it under her arm. “We have to stop her, Professor, who knows what else she could do if left alone, the people stockpiling into those hospital rooms…”

Meanwhile, while the two talked inside the police precinct, that unknown variable that had Lily terrified, the creature the red ha- no, the Rani had created, had finally found the scent of the one who wanted to harm or ruin their master’s work. With a snarl, he watched from the window, mostly hidden away, as the two darted for the parking lot, the front door. This was its moment. It quickly snarled and growled, hurrying into one of the nearby bushes with a sort of malevolent intent plastered all across its face, as it sniffed the air for the scent, and waited for the green coat to arrive.

Each second made it grow more and more frustrated, would it have to enter the building to find the prey? Eventually, it showed itself fruitful, as the entrance opened, and the scent was massive. He was leaving. With one good leap, and all of the rage building further and further within its rapidly racing heart, beating like a wild tiger just about to pounce on its prey. Just when the scent became unbearable, he leaped out of the bushes and pounced.

All that his ears could hear, in that moment, was the bloodcurdling scream that reverberated through the air.

The 11th Professor Adventures - Episode 2 - Reunion, Part 1

 Episode 2 - Reunion, Part 1

Police reports always found a way to drive Lily crazy, no matter over the smallest detail or over the most trivial matters. She found herself writing reports whenever she left her desk, she met with civilians, did anything that even amounted to official police work in order to cover herself and to make sure everything was by the book. It didn’t bother her much, she knew what she was in for when she joined the department nearly 20 years previously, but now it was like common sense had all but gone out the window, especially like the current case she was writing up.

Apparently there had been a racket recently of people using AI programs to write up fake driver’s permits and such to let kids take cars and such out for joyrides with their friends, although why that would make any sort of sense to anyone first of all, she tried to hide her particular judgements, but as she looked over the one she had found recently in one such traffic stop, they weren’t made to even be examined, a few were apparently made for the express purpose to be flashed and then returned out of sight.

The state of Wakanda and a butchered seal of what looked like a spider on the driver’s permits was all she needed on that front. Just make it look official, print with pink paper, and kids get early driver’s permits to goof off with their friends. Her mind couldn’t even wrap around the possible implications of such a mood, but that was life in Traffic division, seeing the day to day situations of real people in real situations with real possibilities that would occur if allowed to persist.

So as she typed out the report, She noticed more than a few looks her way as she did so, more than a few annoyed looks. Possibly because of the way she was using it to type out said report. You see, it was a very old friend of hers who taught her about the importance of using older tech with more modern tech. That if one used all the possibilities around them, that one could have more and more ways to solve a solution, instead of putting all of one’s eggs into one basket and hoping for the best that a mechanical fault or a complete system failure didn’t lose all of one’s progress. So, then here she was, using a typewriter she pulled out of storage from the local precinct, having it cleaned of 20 to 30 years of dirt and grime from being locked away inside a closet forgotten away, and typing out her report without a care in the world, looking around at her co-workers as they stared at her with annoyed expressions.

She must admit, even after she first used it during her first days at Traffic, that the sounds of the electric typewriter she was even able to find in the first place were a bit loud, the large ball print impacting the paper sounded like hammering nails into steel.

But, it’s best to be spontaneous, and she learned that, her eyes drifting a familiar picture of a Silver-haired young gentleman on her desk, wearing an outfit a clown wouldn’t be caught dead in, holding onto her and another friend she held dear, although if anyone asked he was cosplaying as a scarecrow, the looks she would have gotten if anyone learned the truth, she would have been locked up in the loony bin, or worse.

“Winters.” The gruff voice pulled her out of her memories, as he quickly looked up, seeing the big, imposing form of her Captain, looking down at her with silent intent.

“Yes, Captain?” SHe responded in quick succession, a drop of sweat having formed on her neck, causing her to almost start shivering. Even when she wasn’t in trouble, whenever the Captain wandered into the main room of detectives, it always felt like the leader had walked out of their hut to join the village, it was an important moment, and you were meant to listen to what he had to say.

“The local doc’s wishing to see you again.” The man grumbled from his lips. “Got another case or two of crashes, wanted you to look through the evidence. Pink’s located with them.”

Lily slightly let out a sigh. Another thing about receiving a fake driver’s permit is that you get none of the training in order to actually use a motor vehicle to obtain an actual driver’s permit. All the current kids believe that if they just get one they can drive their friends around and damn the consequences of their actions later, who knows who’s going to be able to find out and when? Only now, it has led to quite a few crashes, people injured for this scam which has taken quite a few to the hospital over this, and there seems to be no sign of stopping anytime soon. 

“On my way, Captain.” Without another word, she quickly handed him the report she was typing out, standing up from her desk, after quickly picking up and pocketing her picture of her and her friends from so long ago, and headed for the door out of the common area as fast as her legs could carry her. Best not to get on the bad side of the Captain, especially in a case like this.

—--------------

The Professor peered out into the small break room, or he was sure it was a break room, anyway, with the table that has seen so many cups of coffee that coffee mug rings have been permanently stained into the wood, many chairs for people to be sitting at or in to rest their aching feet or other muscles, long ago broken shelving with multiple doors on it’s cabinets having fallen off from overuse and disappeared over the years, and less said about the small and ornate kitchen that was cobbled together by some kind of rush job would be the better in this case. 

As he stepped out of the TARDIS, and observed his surroundings, his hand felt the crunchy, blackened, almost magma rock-like circle where the lazer hit the outside of the TARDIS and had found a way to burn inside for the console. He looked at the doors, seeing where the cracks and the tears ran away from the central burn, spreading outwards across the doors like some kind of demented spider’s web.

“Just as I thought…” The Professor spoke to himself, looking back at his TARDIS with shock and sadness. “Must have been some kind of transmat beam, from another temporal ship…The power output must have been enormous, We’re lucky to have landed at all, given this…” He gently patted the side of his TARDIS, before returning his gaze back to the room, and more importantly, the situation at hand. As he slowly walked around the break room he found himself in, trying to get some clue as to where, and when, he had landed himself in, a speaker voice kicked in in the break room. It was far too garbled to make anything out in the break room, but from the loud buzzing noise the old speaker phone gave him in response, plus the sound of medication and the word “Doctor” being one of the few intelligible words in the mess, it finally answered one question.

“A hospital?” The Professor spoke with slight confusion, scratching his chin. “Now why would she pick…” Almost on instinct, he checked himself over, to make sure he was perfectly fit, and he was, for a recently regenerated form as well. Could it have been for the TARDIS, a metaphor for her healing? He eyed back towards the Old Girl, but seeing the doors moving back and forth, almost giving off a shimmer, answered that quick question that she was perfectly fine in healing herself.

Then the thought hit him. He’s not a medical doctor. He’s not a nurse. Hell, for some people he could look or even pass for someone from the homeless community, or worse, and here he is, in the break room of a hospital! With a quick reaction, he hurried to a few of the cabinets, searching as fast as he could, as he heard voices on the other side of the door, walking by. The time was against him, he had to find something, as he checked behind glove boxes, mask boxes, anything and everything that was just thrown in here and forgotten by one nurse or another over time which had led to this collection, until finally, he hit paydirt.

He ripped the white coat as fast as he could out of the cabinet, checking it over for any stains or anything that could make the disguise fail, before quickly putting it on and dusting it off. To call this a coat was more than an understatement. This was more like a wizard’s cloak, at least three sizes too big for him, and he was sure that the ends were dragging, or at the very least kissing along the edges of the floor. However, it had to have worked, because not a few moments later a couple nurses came in, talking to one another, looked to him, chuckled slightly at the sight of his tie, but moved along with their conversation at the moment, not even paying the briefest of attention to the healing TARDIS.

“The awakened mind…” The Professor muttered to himself, as he slowly and carefully snuck out the door. “If something doesn’t make any sense, sometimes they pay heed, sometimes it doesn’t even pass by their vision unless it actively gets in their way.” He let himself express a sigh, as he dusted off the coat again. For the moment, he had open reign of the hospital. Which again, made him wonder.

Out of everywhere in the multiverse she could have possibly picked, why in all of her memory banks did the Old Girl decide to land in this hospital specifically?

—--------------

The heart monitor brought a somber, sobering experience to the entire situation, as Lily stood in another hospital room, looking at another victim of these fake papers, laying in the bed asleep and needing to rest after their joyride led to another crash. They aren’t even responding to them, in their sleep, as they lay in their bed, casted legs held up by a swing of sorts, their arms stock outwards in a T-like pose.

“Will they be alright?” Lily’s voice finally was forced from her throat in this somber situation, as the doctor in the room checked on the machines, obviously taking great care as to not turn around and face the officer.

“They just need rest, and a lot of it.” The redheaded female doctor spoke, that’s all Lily could tell of this woman as she worked on the machines around the teenager. “This is one of the latest who’ve come in.” 

“From your call, it sounded like they wanted to sp-”

“No. Not even close.” The woman grumbled, cutting Lily off. “They are far too injured, and far too tired for any of your interrogations to find out what happened and who they got that damn scrap of paper from. That call I gave was, sadly, a false alarm without all of the information. Now out. I’ll let you know when they are ready to speak again to any of your questions, although it may take quite a while.”

Lily looked at the doctor with a little bit of shock, before finally letting out a sigh and headed out of the room with slow and quiet fury building within her heart. Another one. Another person hurt, all because they wanted to impress someone else, that’s usually why they went to get those papers from who knows where or who, just to impress someone. She was hoping for a new break, it sounded like from a few of the nurses this one was willing to talk, but apparently not-

For a split second, as she walked down the corridor, her eyes caught something walking down a different corridor, a white cloaked individual with the coat flowing behind them revealing an outfit that a stage magician would be interested in…except for the coat.The coat within the coat that was hiding all of the insanity within. That stark, darkened green coat. 

She shook her head as she walked into the round common area on this floor, watching the white cloaked individual turn a corner before she got another good look at them. Could it be…?

She didn't have time to daydream, however. She had a job to do. At that, Lily walked up to one of the nurses at the round desk, one that seemed to be trying to keep themselves awake as they clung their hands to a half-full cup of coffee, their eyes slightly bloodshot from all of the caffeine, and possibly nearing the end of their shift.

“Can you tell me where-” Lily was cut off, as the nurse’s other hand slowly rose up to the old elevator, their gaze going right through her like she wasn’t even there to begin with.

“It’s in the basement, detective, where it’s always been, where we’ve always put the evidence.” The demeaning tone of the nurse was not a key addition to the tense or anger-inducing situation, but given that she might have seen a lot in this shift, Lily thought it best not to anger her any further, so without another word given, she headed for the old elevator, and pushed the down button to wait.

Her mind drifted back to that briefest of glances that she saw underneath that white coat with the tattered ends on the bottom. That dark green felt-like coat.

—------------------

The Professor stumbled into the stairwell, wanting to yell at this straight jacket of a white coat as it once again got stuck at the ends in the door, making him stop once again and tug at the ends, leaving behind strands of fabric and twine as the ends tear itself off, leaving another trail for someone else to follow.

He let out a soft grumble, holding his head in frustration, as he tried to calm down and think about his current situation. Something was so important here, something was of so vital importance for the TARDIS to risk herself and land here to heal, and yet it’s like as he explored this hospital, heading further and further down the staircase, it’s just felt like a case that is more attuned with this universe, nothing alien, nothing wrong, nothing off…but he was still here, and he has seen one too many of those teenagers in the rooms as he walked by to allow his hearts to feel anything else but determination, so he continued on, deeper and deeper within, heading further and further into this small town hospital, until he reached the basement level.

Something immediately caught his eye here. Unlike the clean and sterile nature of the entire hospital above him, as soon as he reached this particular door, he could see that it had been propped open by some kind of metal instrument, jammed into what remained of the locking mechanism of the door after someone had carefully and meticulously removed the lever for the door to stop it from locking.

The small instrument was collapsible, as far as he could tell, which at least told The Professor that whoever left it here was waiting to collect it when they were finished with whatever they were doing, which lit a fire in his mind, at least a few embers. There at least was something interesting going on that needed to be solved, as he slowly cracked the door open, peering into the small corridor of the basement, which unlike the massive floors of the hospital above him, there were only two doors down here, and the access for the elevator, which he could hear shuffling and groaning as it rose up. 

Best be quick then, he thought, as he hurried into the corridor, being careful as to not have the door shut and lock, instead returning the instrument back into the door lock to keep it open, and slowly slid back into place.

The corridor was covered in grime and age, left to age and fester, with boxes stacked to the ceiling of medical supplies long gone out of date and old gurneys that had to be at least forty years old, if not older, a couple of them having been collapsed in upon themselves and fallen in various states of disrepair. So, as to not cause much noise, it took quite a bit of time as he slowly walked down the corridor, dodging the boxes and other things littering the hallways, as he saw a couple lights flicker from within a room, the large single window in the door showing a sort of operating room, with an older man looking over reports and a couple x-rays, and a covered person upon the table, who exactly The Professor couldn’t tell.

“The Morgue…” The Professor spoke softly, as he cleared his throat, fixing up his coat to try and regain it’s sense of importance, before slowly slipping into the room, kicking by accident a loose wheel that had escaped one of the gurneys.

The older man quickly stirred from his focus, looking up to spot the oddly dressed man at the door, but just like the nurses, or so the Professor suspected anyway, he didn’t see the strange clothes within the white coat. “Thank God.” The older man spoke, waving him over with the papers in his hand, genuinely looking happy by his arrival.

“Something the matter?” The Professor spoke, confused by his reaction, as the older man, the coroner as he could tell given where he was and the badge pinned to his own white coat.

“I’m honestly glad for the first time with an unexpected arrival, to help me understand this.” The older man spoke, waving him over faster and faster, until the Professor finally joined next to him. “You don’t understand, I’ve been getting these poor ones, The ones from the crashes, and just…”

“What? Just what?” The Professor responded.

The coroner slowly walked over to the covered individual laying on the table. “This one, for example. You see, he came in perfectly well, he was ready to make a full recovery, perfect, raring to go, and then a few hours later, just gone. Completely. No explanation on how or what happened that was able to be seen on the exterior.” He then slowly pointed to the X-ray of the individual’s skull. “All their X-Rays came back the same, everything seemed to be fine, not a single issue, but…” His hands began to shake, holding onto the papers that he had in his hands, like they were some kind of forbidden texts.

“What?” The Professor looked at them with sheer interest. It was the coroner’s stage at the moment, and as he learned traveling for so long, let people tell their own stories instead of running all over it and taking their initiative away from them.

The coroner, however, looked as if he was staring into the horizon of a black hole, slowly holding out the report to the Professor with shaky, almost clammy hands. Even in the low light, he could see the sweat glistening from them, as he slowly took the reports to look them over. Almost immediately, something caught his eye, something that made him look at the X-Ray of the skull with fear and shock.

“Oh.” The only word that was able to escape the Professor’s lips.

—--------------------

The heart monitor began to give a few more beeps, before the redheaded doctor turned down, and then eventually off, the machine, being very careful to add further silence by carefully unplugging it from the wall, and then pushing it close to the bed, just behind the curtain, just enough to hide the screen. “Infernal contraption…” She mumbled to herself, as she eyed the civilian in the bed, the very same one she had shown to that meddlesome police detective minutes earlier. “Quick and to the point, especially given this…” She slowly cleaned off her wide spectacles, trying her absolute best not to get any smudges or fingerprints upon them. 

Her eyes went to the chart, that paper and clipboard on the edge of the bed, as she eyed through it, mumbling in annoyance. She didn’t need a name, she didn’t need family, age, to her it was immaterial. She saw muscle when he came in, so she was looking for anything that could catch her eye, seal the deal for her to even use some of her precious time on this trivial humanoid.

Finally it clicked, that contact sports mention, which meant that possibly there was brain damage, but there was also high amounts of adrenaline to be had in this subject, and whatever else she could find what she started her searching. She left a little smirk across her ruby red lips, shining with lipstick, as she slowly slipped out of the doctor’s coat, revealing underneath her older, reddish attire, with pointed lapels on her trench jacket that in certain angles could get an eye out or two if hit in the exact way.

She slowly pulled out a smartphone, or something that looked similar to it, a large screen device with nothing more around it, like a very thick piece of glass and nothing more, as she took from it a shard from the top, just enough that someone as unintelligent as these humans would confuse it as a slide for one of their primitive microscopes, as she laid it down on the teenager’s forehead.

“Now then…” The woman spoke, her smirk clearly visible across her face. “Let’s see what useful chemicals I can take from this brute of a primitive…”

The 11th Professor's Adventures - Episode 1 - Rebirth, Part 3

 Episode 1- Rebirth, Part 3

The fear that filled that room could have fueled a nuclear reactor, as the dull, echoing footsteps of the Ergon got closer and closer to the Professor’s hiding spot. 4 racks were now nothing more but debris and scraps, and the room looked like a warzone, the burning embers getting onto the shelves and burning holes into them, causing more damage and smoke which filled the room with an even more overwhelming sense of dread and despair that fueled the Professor’s mental state.

Meanwhile, The Professor was fighting back a flash that was building more and more in his mind, the echoing laughter of the War General replaying over and over in his head as it almost drove him mad, the shaking pain, the overwhelming burning…

What was this sensation to him?

What was happening to him?

He held his head in agony, as he heard the footsteps get closer and closer with every second passing by. The fear building and building in his head, as he clutched and tightened up to hide behind the barricades, trying to hang on with all that he could, until the flash could no longer be held back, and he fell through the floor a second time, leaving behind him an angry scream from the Ergon, pissed that the hunt was not over.

—--------------------

“You are to be my prototype experiment for a most useful tool against the Daleks.” The War General’s voice was full of glee as he spoke, moving and twisting each knob and lever of the Forced Regeneration apparatus that had been the end for so many a Timelord’s faces who had either double-crossed or turned against the higher ups of Gallifreyan Society.

Now, hanging on the four rings of the containment device, stood the next victim in a long line of innocent timelords and timeladies who had faced the Forced Regeneration punishment with equal parts fear and panic that raced through their hearts.

The War General took another look at the small creature, almost a teenager within the rings of the device, a man far too young to even think about regenerating yet, a very long life was ahead of him, if only he had learned sooner the error of his ways, of hiding information about other worlds and universal travel, traveling the void between universes that could be instrumental in stopping or even outright destroying one of their most hated enemies. 

What was even stopping them at just the Daleks? With that type of information, all was within their hands, but the boy never gave up his scientific journal which contained all of the information they required, and even through multiple searches and multiple interrogations they never could find the one piece that could have saved him from this agony.

Well, saved him in theory, anyway. His metal lips smirked at the prospect, being handed the journal and then to hide its true location shoving the boy into the Timelord Matrix or E-Space to forever be nothing more than a footnote in the future of his race.

“You…don’t scare me…” 

The boy’s defiant words rang out through the chamber, as the War General peeked up at the young timelord, who had only ever regenerated once previously.

A wake-up call was necessary.

“You will serve the High Council till the end of the war, for your arrogance and your defiance against your own people.” The War General spoke, making sure that if anyone was recording this or archiving it for future reference, it gave off the aura of official business, turning a dial or two on the console.

The rings began to spin around the young timelord, electrical sparks flew off of them, hitting against him again and again, causing him to scream out in agony, but there was no mercy to be had from the obviously demented metal timelord at the controls, as he turned the dial higher and higher.

“You will serve your people, Serve us, against the Daleks, and anyone else that dares get in the way of the Timelords’ Mission!” The War General yelled in response to the young one’s pleas, working the console as the rings spun faster, and faster, lightning flying every which way inside the container, as the young Timelord yelled louder and louder, the tell-tale glow beginning to emanate from within his very form.

—---------------

And then the memory went white.

As it always did.

As the Professor sat on his knees, within the room containing the Eye of Harmony burning brightly above him, as he kneeled before it on the sand and dirt crafted floor, like the Akhaten Temple’s altar to their Grandfather sun god, this Timelord looked just as weak and uneasy as another who faced this situation.

“I never could remember what they did…” He finally spoke, looking down at the floor. “I never could…My memory, My memory always started back just after I regained my senses…that planet, that burning planet on the monitor that I saw…” His eyes looked up at the burning Eye.

“The pain, the anger, that they made me feel and caused to others, and yet I lay here now and I still can’t remember the truth about who I was…” He shivered a bit, holding himself up by just his knees and legs as he stared into the Eye, letting the heat and the warmth flow through him, washing away the feelings as he felt his mind try to stitch itself back together, the gap in his mind causing problems even now, like an open barn door.

“They took a life away from me…Half a life’s worth of memories and turned me into a puppet for their purposes, all because I stood up to them and told them I wouldn’t let them harm the beauty and the majesty of the void that they hid from us…” His hands slowly balled up into fists, feeling the slight anger bubbling in his hearts as he felt the Eye flicker above him. 

“They made me nothing more than a personal toy to be used and abused and ordered around, a toy soldier to capture and return those who fled, who never wanted anything in the war…and yet I still can’t remember…”

“Memories are important to a life’s goal, but so is the soul and the healing one must undergo.”

The Professor’s eyes snapped open as he heard the unfamiliar, chipper like tone of the voice that had responded back, looking around the darkened room, trying to spot any movement of anyone that could be with him.

“Who’s there?” The Professor called out. “Who spoke?”

The chipper voice echoed again. “Who spoke, indeed? A Change in the guard, a change in life, over the many centuries changed again and again.” A shimmer, like moving windchimes in the breeze, echoed in the room. “A bell leading those to sanctuary in the night on a cold winter’s day.” Then, came another, loud yelling in a battlefield, the mere noises alone caused the Professor to cover his ears as he heard them echo the massive room. “The yell for a Medic.” The sounds went silent, as quick as they appeared. “The heart is a fickle construct. The Soul of what is good, and what leaks evil and destruction.” The Professor slowly looked up, as he heard crunching footsteps in the dirt, not the dull echoing thud of his alien pursuer, but more like faint, sandal like crunches, as he saw before him a being in a white coat…a being, in the literal sense, because besides the coat, all that he could tell of the being’s telltale appearance was a solid glowing light, morphed and formed into humanoid form before him.

The Professor’s eyes grew in size, looking at this elegant creature as it loomed over him, flickering in the light. “The White Guardian…”

“I have had many names in my many expansive lifes, child. Good. Hope. Charity. I have seen the expanse and the cracks, the depths of darkness in which a hero burns through and survives the trials and tribulations that had been set before them.” The being took a step closer, the light almost engulfing around the pitiful Timelord, almost surrounding him as to give them the peace and serenity of a one to one conversation. “Heroics are not gifted by birth, although they may seem to be given by who one is related or born to in some of the many stories. It is the heart. It comes from the heart.”

“I have seen that many times in my travels, the stories of those that the universes do not cover, the individual within the very stories we hold dear, that show more heroics surviving in their day to day lives and trying to make their own names for themselves.” The Professor looked up to the being before him. “...What does my travels have to do with my memory?”

“For half a dozen lives, you have lived with the trauma of what the Time War had done to you, and tried to better yourself. After attempting to become nothing more than a singular entity, you realized the importance of how much better you could achieve the healing of your hearts by helping others.”

The Professor’s mind began to flow with memories, of the people he traveled with, everyone he cared about, and met, after the Ginger-haired man’s experiences and the ways that man tried to bury his past. It felt like a flowing river of emotion, his hearts beating slower and slower, the adrenaline from running wearing off and finally allowing him to have a moment of pure peace in his attempts to flee the hunter.

“You just needed a cushion, to soften the blow. The strengthened heart to move forward, even when you face the true horror of what they had done to you.”

The Professor’s mind began to run again, running backwards this time, to when the Ginger-haired man was thrown through multiple walls by a villain, his “Heroic” adventures cut short by the actions he had caused which had led him to that point, leading him further back, to the crazed woman whose mind was in shambled after she was unable to recall anything about the war and what they did to her, long before he began to piece together the events of the war through second-hand accounts and victims of what he was later told as “The Right Hand of Omega”, and as his mind raced further and further back, the light emanating from the being became brighter and brighter still as the White Guardian’s form began to face from the Professor’s view. “You must evolve again, my child. Now, with help of the full story to tell.”

The fifth flash hit his mind. This time, with no pain.

—----------------------

As the discs began to slow their spin, The War General couldn’t help but show his complete and utter over-enjoyment of the situation. It had succeeded. His experiment had succeeded well and truly beyond anything that he could possibly imagine. Standing in the center of the rings, instead of that weak and young scientist whose research he still craved over, now stood a man who loomed over him like a Golem in comparison. Six feet Nine inches tall. Short, blond hair that was so pale that it looked like ghost hair, and that was so meticulously combed and perfect it looked like a fake piece put on his head. Not to mention the eyes. The cold, unobserved, icy amber eyes that burned out of the soul and hid any recognition of the man he previously was.

The War General gave a smirk as he stepped up to the man, watching as the clothing of the young man ripped and tore around the new form that it had clung too, far too small for the man they now contained within, as the new man stood at attention, looking ahead without any form or spoken utterance since the process had ceased.

He was a weapon. That’s all this man was now, for the War General. A Weapon to be used and abused until he could no longer be trusted, then tossed away like trash and try again with someone new. Perhaps that blue-coated interloper that had long bothered the two of them with her spying activities…

But for now. He has his weapon.

“ATTENTION!” The War General shouted, and the man did as such without any hesitation to the contrary, his eyes showing that the brainwashing had taken its mark and took hold upon the Timelord.

“How dare you enter my presence with such a disrespectful look about yourself…” The War General spat, a smirk formed across his lips. “Do you know no DECENCY, SAVAGE!?”

He doesn’t respond to the insult. The War General smirked wider and wider. Near-Total Control then. It had truly worked then. One could brainwash a timelord via Forced Regeneration, it was possible. They could have an army, HE could have an army that answered only to him. He could overthrow that tinpot that had long since driven him mad with his lust and control for power, HE could lead Gallifrey the way HE wanted, and surely that scientist woman and her secret toys would side with him with some…persuading.

But for now. He had his weapon.

“Go get yourself ready, Soldier.” The War General ordered. “I have a mission for you when you return.”

Without a word, the new man walked out of the rings and out of the room, leaving a laughing War General, almost overcome with joy at his new creation. He now had his own puppet. Soon, he shall have his own army. Soon, HE, not that damn Rassilon, shall lead Gallifrey to glory against the Daleks, and prove that Rassilon’s glory was nothing more but his own puppetry and mimicry.

—-----------------------

The loud, dull thud of the footsteps that echoed and followed the Professor on his chases had finally caught up with him once again, as The Ergon slowly walked into the Eye of Harmony room. There was nowhere to hide inside this room, just a dirt and sand covered floor, opened to the burning Eye above them all. The last stand, in which The Ergon foolishly believed as it walked onto the crunchy floor with intent, malevolent intent, that it held every card to finally eliminate one of its Master’s many failed experiments. However, as it looked around the room, expecting to see the Professor, it saw nothing. Nothing? How could that be, its eyes were implanted with a heat sensor, it could sense body heat in this room, even added to the Eye of Harmony which cracked and glowed above it. How? Where could it be?

Underneath the floor, in an alcove, would prove its answer and its undoing. As it walked closer and closer to the center of the room, The Professor held tight onto any breath that could give himself away and endanger the only chance he had to stop the horrific hunter in its tracks. Holding tight onto the spring loaded door in the floor, he laid in wait, waiting for the pressure to hit upon it.

Silence echoed in the room for just a few seconds.

No cries.

No breaths.

Just those loud, dull footsteps.

The Professor slowly put one of his hands against the swinging hatch, as the steps got closer and closer to their target. One shot. He had one shot at this. His face, and his hearts, full of determination as he heard the steps get closer and closer to the hatch. Like a ticking clock, and the cuckoo bird about to release itself.

So the wait continued, and the silence was deafening as the Professor waited in his hiding spot. Slowly, the first step on the hatch readied the mechanism within, so the Professor, to compensate, raised his second hand to help hold the door, and for extra pushing power when the full weight of The Ergon came upon it. However, as the seconds, the moments of waiting grew more and more impatient, there was no movement.

Had The Ergon figured out the plan, The Professor wondered? Was it testing him, baiting him out to claim this life, just as it most likely did for the previous? The Professor was a ball of pure emotion as each moment passed by, either possibility up in the air and each outcome a possibility, as the moments ticked by.

The sigh of relief was swallowed quickly, as he felt the second foot be placed on the hatch. Showtime. At that moment, with all of his might, picturing in his mind the friends he had made since that awful time in his life, now being able to visualize and contextualize, and fully despise, what the Timelords, his own people, had done to him, he pushed on the hatch. The hatch cracked up, and the astonished cry of The Ergon echoed, as the TARDIS took the kinetic energy of the Professor’s efforts and amplified them, unlocking the spring and sending the hatch flying open, pushing The Ergon up towards the Eye.

All that the Professor had now, was hope. Had he sent it hard enough, had he had enough strength to help with the hatch? The Ergon was flying backwards at a trajectory that frightened him slightly, backwards and upward, that at any moment it looked like it could fall from the pull of the Eye and finally complete its mission for the horrid War General, even after so long after the final days of the War cost them everything, even their home planet, and then their secrets cost them again.

He knew it was wrong to hope for what he was hoping for, for The Ergon to fall into the Eye, but he knew if it succeeded, who knows what next it could have gone on to hunt down, who else would be hurt if it weren’t stopped here. So he watched the situation with gasped breaths, each moment feeling like a century, each second ticking by, as The Ergon fought the pull to try and escape, Crying out in rage, trying to aim his laser, but the pull was too strong, too heavy upon its arms to get a clear shot.

Eventually, the fighting was for naught, as The Ergon’s struggles became fruitless, and the pull was so great that it began heading straight for the Eye. The Professor took one last look before he turned away, hearing the cry becoming more and more distorted as it got further and further away. It had tried to kill him. It had tried to destroy him, multiple times tonight, but yet it was still a living creature, a living being, and so it still made him sick to his stomach as the cry got more and more distorted, crying out not in fear but in absolute rage about its predicament, until finally the cry is cut short mid-call, and silence once again prevailed within the Eye of Harmony room. Silence, and tranquility, as the Eye flickered like the fire in a fireplace. Content. 

The threat to her pilot, her friend, was no longer an issue as far as she was concerned, but as she watched The Professor head somberly out of the Eye of Harmony room, she knew it would hang heavily on him. Even though it tried to kill him, even though it hunted for him for some unknown individual, he still honored its life. That’s what she long grew fond of him for, one of his most redeeming traits for her. His respect for life.

So, now as The Professor began to walk down the corridor silently, his mind stitched back together fully, his memories now whole, he felt numb. All of the pain, all of the suffering that his people had inflicted upon him a very long time ago, still remained, even before he knew the specifics of what they had truly done. However, now, as he stared at his hands in silence, the rage and anger of what he had done in his mind, he wanted to swing punches, he wanted to let himself be pissed again, to let it all out, but he knew it wouldn’t help.

Especially as he looked at his hands, his hearts and mind brought him to where he had come now, how far he had come since the war, since finally moving forward and wanting to do more with what he had, and the people he met, who helped heal his fractured hearts, even the one he met so soon after escaping their grasp and trying all he could to stay away again, even as he heard the drumbeats of war driving him to fight on, to fight more, to live and die by the battlefield.

He slowly looked up at the TARDIS, her lights flickering, like they were eyes looking down at him, blinking, to show that she was still watching over him. Slowly, he patted the wooden wall closest to him, and gave the smallest smile to her. “Thank you, Old Girl.” He said, the only words that came to his mind as he tried to reason with himself over what had just occurred.

She answered back the best way she could, a low, accepting thrum.

—-------------------------

As he re-entered his old console room, the dust and the ash finally all settled down and finally the devastation all finally within view and what truly happened here shown, He can finally have a look as to what happened to himself, why, or rather how, he regenerated. At the doors into the TARDIS, there is a big black burn mark, about center mass, which means that the outside is probably a wash just like the inside, a new Wardrobe exterior after seeing it, but that is besides the point. From that burn spot, it is an almost straight shot to the console.

He let out a little sigh, pinching his nose as he looked at the trajectory. “One lucky shot and boom…I went down…No wonder a flashpoint, probably as a protection…” He slowly reached down, picking up a couple of the pieces from the console up from the floor, completely covered in ash and dust, before just letting them drop again and scatter the ash everywhere.

“I’m gonna need a new console, then…” The Professor spoke, looking around the destroyed console room. “Hell, we’re both due for a makeover now, aren’t we…It hurt us both, and here I was only worried about myself for the moment…”

The TARDIS simply thrummed in response.

“I know, I know I recently regenerated…” He spoke softly. “Still, I should..” The thrum echoed around him in the ruined remains of what was one his previous incarnation’s console room. “I know. I know. Thank you.”

At that moment, a hole opened up in the floor, swallowing up the bloomed console and pulling down with it not just the ruined remains of it, but the long time rotor, the rods themselves having been cracked when the lazer most likely impacted against the console, causing it to shatter and leading to the entire situation to begin with.

It did make him wonder though, as his eyes went to the door. In the event of a hostile action, or even worse, a hostile takeover, the TARDIS is programmed to emergency land at random coordinates as to protect the pilot and to allow him to find and seek help. Now, after the situation had ended, but it will take some time for the TARDIS to heal and to renovate, and he has learned on more than one occasion not to rush the Old Girl when she is making new console rooms, it did pique his interest.

Just where in all of the Multiverse did the TARDIS land, anyway?