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…”
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