#sammy button

Well… that would explain why I couldn't find this basement. Oliver watched with interest as the floor slowly became the walls the more they descended downwards.

Eventually the hidden elevator came to a stop, the soft buzzing sound of the lights hanging overhead echoing in the otherwise silent space. The cool white light gave the large entryway a colder atmosphere as their dim surroundings came into view.

The walls were bare concrete, the floor composed of solid square-shaped tiles that made a distracting clacking sound when stepped upon; like heels on stone. The entryway held two coats hung up on the wall; one of which was a clean lab coat and the other being a regular overcoat with what appeared to be dried blood on the sleeves. Oliver's nose wrinkled as he noticed the stains. For as much blood and gore as he had seen in his life so far, blood without much explanation in such an unsettling setting just felt like a bad omen.

Further down, the entryway led into a large and mostly empty room with a table in the center. The Doctor cautiously approached it and inspected the small stack of papers there which, under his and Oliver’s scrutinizing gaze seemed to be files full of personal information… One person in particular Oliver recognized immediately. The name on the file had been crossed out with red ink, and there was a list lying just beside the stack that had the same names written down. The names were written in either red or black, and the red names seemed to correspond with the names that were crossed out.

“That’s… I used to live in the house of that human. His name was Felix Mercer…the one I mentioned went missing and was later found shot dead. Dumped in the river.” Oliver's voice reduced to almost a mutter as his brows furrowed at the image. He had always considered what happened to Felix as some kind of karmic retribution after what he did to his uncle, and presumably did with his missing aunt and cousins.

Oliver looked everywhere he could, but with no bodies found and no living family found either, he was forced to consider the possibility that they had died and he would never find out how or why. Every time he heard about potential borrower hunters or captured borrowers his heart would skip a beat in the hopes that it might be them— or maybe they would at least know what happened to them. But after all these years he had found nothing, so the one thing he could find was peace in the fact that Felix could not hurt anyone else.

But this…this is concerning. More notable than the files themselves was the handgun laying beside them. It didn't take a genius to make the connection.

While the Doctor leaned down slightly to look over the files, Zepheera glanced between them and Oliver. Her heart sank as she recalled the little details he'd mentioned in passing conversation. Living alone in that big tree, having lived indoors previously…knowing a family of borrowers went missing right around the same time as a human, in whose house Oliver had lived… She couldn't know for sure what it all meant, but Zepheera could make guesses. None of them were pleasant.

Oh, Oliver…

“Makes no sense,” muttered the Doctor, wrinkling his nose at the information before him as much as the handgun nearby. “Why go to the trouble of manifesting incredible, unknowable power in secret, only to have a hit list? Can't be worth the risk, can it? Unless…some sort of vendetta? A rival?”

Shaking his head, the Doctor stepped back. “Focus,” he emphasized, mainly to himself. Looking around, he found there were more rooms that led further into the laboratory and began to wander around. “Keep your eyes peeled. Something giving off energy so powerful should be obvious. A control center, or a matrix, or a great big generator, we can't possibly miss it!”

The lab was built almost like a maze. All of the rooms looked almost identical, shelves lining the chipped grey walls, filled with notes and books and the occasional dead plant on whatever surface was free. So far there had been no sign of any generator or control center; only a library’s worth of vague indiscernible rambles.

One of the furthest rooms looked more like a medical examination room, with sterile tools set out across the open counter space. The tools seemed smaller— more like the kind a vet would use rather than a human doctor. On one of the clear countertops was an empty glass vial set next to a microscope, as well as some incomprehensible scribbles that looked very similar to the note that Oliver had read aloud earlier; handwriting panicked and rushed.

The final room was plain too; simply having a desk set up in the corner with a computer and multiple connected monitors arranged neatly on the surface. There was a dead blue flower preserved in resin like some kind of paperweight and resting on top of more notes. Beside the flower was an open and half-eaten bar of chocolate, still wrapped up in the torn packaging. Once again disorganised papers and notes or books were scattered all over the shelves in no recognizable order.

The monitor screens woke up as they all entered, illuminating the dim room more than the lights overhead were. Oliver's gaze was drawn to the ghoulish light immediately, squinting to make out the words on screen that he thought he had seen. Borrowers. He tapped the Doctor lightly on the neck and pointed to the desk.

“I'd like to read what's on the screen— you can continue looking, though I don't think the source of energy is as obvious as you said before,” he spoke, trying to keep his composure for as long as possible even if a lot of very painful memories were suddenly being forced to the forefront of his mind. He clasped his hands together to get rid of the nervous energy, disguising the gesture as simply folding his arms behind his back.

The Doctor had to begrudgingly agree with Oliver's assessment, as frustrating a truth as it was. He was reluctant to waste time looking into even more ramblings of a potential madman, but then he caught sight of the same word Oliver saw. Noticed the slightest edge in his voice, which hadn't even been present when the borrower had confronted the Doctor as a stranger on the street.

So he obliged, lifting a hand to ferry Oliver– and Zepheera as she hurried to hop on after him– to the desk.

“But it has to be here,” the Doctor insisted under his breath, skimming the text across the monitors with a frown. “Maybe there's something in here that'll finally give us answers. Is there a sub-basement? A cloaking device? Could be–”

“Ah…guys?” Zepheera piped up. She'd let her gaze wander, feeling quite vulnerable at the end of the line with everyone's focus in one spot. Then violet eyes landed on something in the corner that made her olive skin pale.

On a table in the darkest corner of the room there was a glass enclosure, like the kind people used for small reptiles. Over the top was positioned a heat lamp, barely illuminating the contents. The bottom of the enclosure seemed lined with a blanket, with some random piles of fabric in the corners; set up like tiny nests. Nothing was immediately visible inside at first, but amongst the plain white sheets was a girl.

She had a dark complexion, with brown-almost-black hair hanging choppily around her ears. It looked like it had only just been cut, and it had definitely not been done by anyone who knew what they were doing with hair. She was dressed in what looked to be a tiny hospital gown, staring in the Doctor's direction silently as she pressed herself into the corner of the cold glass walls entrapping her.

Oliver had only gotten to read a few words on the screen before he heard Zepheera and looked over at the glass enclosure. For a moment he thought nothing of it. But then he saw her.

Her.

His breath hitched and his limbs froze all at once at the sight as a sudden nauseating dread filled his body. Hands trembling and twitching with unease, he stared, too shocked to form even a single structured thought. His mouth opened and closed but no sound escaped as he realized he hadn't inhaled for several seconds.

The Doctor’s gaze soon followed, and when he realized what he was looking at, all the confused tension in his expression gave way to shock.

“What…?” he breathed, slowly rising to stand straight again. Now he was really confused, and his twisting brow reflected that as he echoed with more intensity, “What??”

Before he could think better of it, the Doctor stepped up to the glass enclosure and locked the girl inside in a hard stare. Right away he noticed the scars all but covering her body, and the sight of them on top of how young she looked made him seethe.

His jaw clenched furiously as he reached up to grasp the top of the enclosure, prepared to rip it off and set the poor girl free.

The moment that the Doctor had suddenly started approaching the enclosure, the girl jolted and scrambled back— pressing herself further into the glass in a fruitless attempt to evade him. She shut her eyes and covered her head as she heard the familiar sound of a hand resting on the lid, waiting for it to be lifted and to get grabbed up.

“WAIT!”

Zepheera's cry from the other desk made the Doctor pause just as his hands settled on top of the box, drawing his attention immediately back to her.

For her part, Zepheera had been caught between two extremes. She was worried to see Oliver completely freeze in place at the sight of the trapped girl, and as much as the righteous fury was appreciated, the Doctor's immediate jump into action was overeager. Not wanting to leave anyone behind, she grabbed Oliver by the crook of his elbow and dragged him along to the edge of the desk, closer to the situation unfolding.

“She's scared,” Zepheera emphasized, heart bleeding just as much for the poor thing. “Don’t make it worse.”

The Doctor blinked, his senses finally catching up to him through his blind rage. Shaking his head at himself, he lowered himself to crouch next to the container.

“Sorry,” he whispered, knowing that whatever battle he was about to fight to earn the girl’s trust was now so far uphill it was practically vertical. But he had to try. “I'm not gonna hurt you. We're here to help. Okay?”

Body trembling and chest heaving from the panic of the sudden approach, the tiny girl looked like a cornered animal. She flinched back and met the gaze of the human who was now crouched down to look at her with not a hint of belief or trust. If she wasn't so terrified she might have laughed at his words— empty, no doubt. She had heard the same sentence many times before, usually followed by amusement and pain when she kept believing it was true.

I'm not stupid… People like that don’t just help. Not for long… Her mind flashed with images; memories of when Ryker had promised practically the same thing only to later shut her and her brother in this cage once he changed his mind.

From his position on the desk, Oliver finally managed to breathe.

“Sammy…” Oliver murmured after a sharp intake of air, so quiet and stiff that only Zepheera could hear his disbelieving words. He took a small robotic step forward, then another, a hand clasping over his chest as he tried to control his breathing and calm his racing heart. He was still tense, shell-shocked as he stared towards the girl, his cousin, and came to a stand just beside Zepheera.

His eyes watered but he swallowed the emotions bubbling up inside him, her words echoing in his mind as he remained frozen. She's scared. She's scared but she's alive, but scared. I…I need to get over there. Where are…? No. No I can't, I need to focus.

Hearing Oliver finally speak, however softly, made Zepheera whirl around. Something inside her clenched to see his usually unflappable composure start to shatter. Her hands moved to hover near his arm, unsure if he might crumble if she made contact or if she didn't. “Oliver?”

Then his single, softly uttered word sank in, and Zepheera turned back to the glass cage. “Do you…know her?” she blurted.

Oliver didn't respond to Zepheera for a few moments, still collecting himself and trying to push everything back down for the sake of his cousin. He nodded slowly, swallowing thickly once more as if that would also swallow down the emotions threatening to break free. He continued to stare in Sammy’s direction, and after another couple seconds he took a deep breath. She's been here this whole time. I've been here before— I've been right above her this whole time.

Closing his eyes briefly, he took in another shaky breath of the stale basement air. When he opened his eyes again he was starting to regain control over his body and mind slowly but surely, clenching his hands into fists and then relaxing them to try to stop the shaking.

“She's…my cousin. She's been missing for about three years now. I-I have to…” He spoke hoarsely from the effort and paused as his voice cracked, quickly composing himself again. “I need to get over there. But I feel like I.. can't move…”

That caught the Doctor’s ear, and he spared the other borrowers a glance as he sensed the potential ‘in’ with the kid. Now that he looked at her, there did seem to be a slight…resemblance between this new one and the last one he'd met.

“We only want to get you out of there,” he promised with a soft smile. “Got some friends here, they're more the experts than I am. Zepheera there, she's my best friend, she'd take good care of you. And Oliver’s a new friend, but he's very nice, too.” Then, without thinking it through, he gently introduced himself as well. “And I'm the Doctor, by the way. What's your name?”

Sammy bristled as she heard the familiar name, although she didn't want to get her hopes up that it was him. Not to mention, if her Oliver was here that meant he had been captured too. And if he had been captured…well their family tree was definitely doomed for extinction. Flinching as the Doctor announced himself, the familiar title had her mind running wild with possibilities.

Is he a replacement for Wells? Is he going to cut me open? Why didn't Ryker warn me? Did he sell me..? Why did I believe him that he wouldn’t let anyone else touch me again?

Her panic was only growing; visible in how her breathing came short and quick, scratching at the back of her hands nervously as she tried not to completely break down, not wanting to cry in front of this strange new man. They always seemed to like it if she did, and Sammy simply wouldn't give this Doctor that satisfaction. But as much as she tried not to, the tears threatened to spill over.

“I-I'm not hurt, I don't need a doctor to cut me open or poke and prod at me…just…just leave me alone—” She cut herself off as she glanced towards Zepheera and Oliver, going rigid once she took in the shocked expression of her older cousin. No…no no no. Her breathing staggered briefly, then quickened as she covered her mouth and a stifled sob escaped her lips, staring down at her feet as her knees pulled into her chest. Her nails dug at the back of her hand as the scratching intensified. He can't be here. He can't be here.

The Doctor's face fell to see the instant reaction from Sammy, and he realized his mistake. He should have known better, after seeing her scars and passing by all those surgical tools on the way in– meant for delicate, precise procedures. Why would she think anything different of a strange ‘doctor’ swanning in with seemingly nothing but sweet words and more borrowers? 

“Oh, no,” he murmured. “No no, I didn't mean it like–”

“Doctor.” Zepheera's firm voice cut him off and pulled his focus once again. When he looked, she had one arm wrapped around an extremely tense Oliver's back to supportively squeeze his shoulder, while the other clutched the opposite sleeve of his green sweater. The Doctor finally noticed that, though he was desperately clawing back his composure, this was the most high strung Oliver had been all day. He wouldn't be surprised if Zepheera was partly responsible for holding him upright, despite being nearly a head shorter than him.

“Lift. Now,” Zepheera commanded.

The Doctor's weight immediately shifted closer to them as he held out a hand for them. Once Zepheera helped Oliver climb on, he carefully carried them closer to the enclosure. He hesitated only briefly before letting the back of his hand settle on the surface of the desk right next to the glass.

With his hand freed, he ran it anxiously through his messy hair as though it would comb away the itchy feeling of helplessness creeping over him. He glanced between the borrowers, free and caged alike, uncertain of what he could do that wouldn't make the situation worse. He had to do something; Oliver and Zepheera would have an incredibly difficult time breaking the girl out of her cage on their own.

Sammy's hazel eyes looked up, her fingers pausing from their instinctive fidgeting at that nickname. Her brows furrowed slightly but after a moment or two of looking between Zepheera and the offered blanket she took the blanket and averted her gaze once more. As she draped it over herself and tucked herself in up to her neck she hesitantly spoke again.

“Thanks…”

It had been a while since Sammy had been covered like she was, and for as good it felt to be warm it still felt weird to have sleeves that fell past her forearms like Oliver's sweater did. Focusing her attention elsewhere she watched her cousin feed the fire and gather water into a tiny metal teapot, hanging it by a wire over the fire to let the water boil. Seeing him, feeling warm, being safe, it all felt so unfamiliar. Not bad, just…Sammy wasn't sure how to feel yet.

“That…that human isn't going to use the thing that made that horrible noise and break the wall down, will he..?” she asked stiffly, the encounter with the Doctor freeing her mixing together with the memory of the walls of their den being broken into by a human on the day they were captured. She looked down again, this time tracing the floral embroidery on the rug beneath the sofa. Hearing Oliver's subtle breath hitch her gaze snapped to focus on him, knowing immediately that they were probably both picturing the same image of her father buried beneath the rubble.

She looked down again, fidgeting under the blanket as she awaited an answer.

Zepheera bit back a wince as she glanced between Sammy and Oliver, noticing the reaction they both had. Turning her violet gaze to focus on Sammy, she shook her head emphatically.

“Oh, no. No, he would never do that.” Despite the incredibly strong urge to comfort Sammy, Zepheera recognized that she was still a stranger to the kid. An unknown who was friends with someone who looked quite human, with similar capabilities.

Opting to sit in a chair nearby, the remaining blanket Zepheera held ended up getting bundled around her hands for extra warmth. Her focus now was on reassuring Sammy that she was safe, even and especially from or with the Doctor.

“That sonic of his can be…intense, especially for us,” she acknowledged. “But it's harmless, really. He only used it on the cage the way he did so we could get to you, get you out without his help otherwise.” Putting on a small, tight smile that was only slightly forced, Zepheera leaned forward to whisper to Sammy like she was sharing a secret. “And, just between us, it's pretty rubbish when it comes to wood. Can't even budge it!”

Sammy wasn't sure what to think of that answer— really she wasn't sure what to think of anything about this situation. She wasn't even sure why she bothered asking because she knew deeply that she wouldn't feel comforted by any answer she received. She was testing the waters, but doing so whilst being so petrified of water that she knew no matter what temperature it was she wouldn't be able to jump in.

“I-I just… I feel like if I try to feel safe this’ll just…stop. O-or something bad will happen. I don't want to get captured again, o-or for anyone else to get hurt.” She stammered, shoulders bunching up under the blankets and covering parts of her face as her short messy hair all stuck out every which way. Her hand peeked out from the knitted fabric to wipe at her eyes though she was trying to keep her composure, refusing to look weak. Her brows pinched together in frustration, poorly hiding the unease she was still feeling.

Oliver stood up straight and turned around to face away from the fire. His expression was conflicted, not knowing how far to push because he knew that how she was feeling was perfectly normal in such distressing circumstances but he just wished he could take all of that pain away.

“Nothing bad is going to happen to you here. If the Doctor tried anything he would soon find himself at the sharp end of my quill. Which is…both ends…” He cleared his throat softly.

“But— I know I wouldn't need to lift my weapon in his direction in the first place. Eccentric, he is, but cruel he is not. This safety,” he gestured around the well-lit room, “is not going to disappear. It is natural to find that difficult to understand at first given what has happened, but please try to tell yourself that.”

Zepheera's stilted smile softened to a proper one to hear Oliver speak up for the Doctor, and put together more reassuring words than she'd been able to so far. For all her travels, on top of decades of near-complete isolation before them, Zepheera was afraid she'd grown quite rusty when it came to normal social interaction with her own kind. Let alone someone so young who had been through more than her fair share of hardship already.

“And if it's any consolation,” she added softly, “he doesn't even know where we are. Didn't come along when I visited before, and he can't track us down. So he won't be showing up unexpectedly, don't worry.”

Though Zepheera hoped she could bring Sammy some solace by saying so, her brow jumped up when she realised what exactly she'd said.

“Oh, that reminds me. Um, Oliver?” Zepheera sat up and turned to the borrower in question. She almost hated to ask any more of him after the day he'd had, but she really didn't have another option. “Could we possibly have Gail keep an eye out for the TARDIS? He said he'd bring it back to that corner, but it's hard to be sure when that will be.”

Oliver seemed to realise the same thing as Zepheera as she brought it up, so he nodded.

“Yes. Just a moment.” He bent down to move the metal fire guard into place to prevent any sparks from catching whilst the fire was starting out, before dusting himself off and walking over to the door. He gave Sammy a reassuring smile before pushing the door open with his shoulder and slipping outside to set Gail that mission. The door closed gently behind him, leaving Zepheera and Sammy alone in the warm room.

Sammy was still processing his and Zepheera's words as he left, not knowing what the TARDIS was but it sounded ominous. Her eyes honed in on the flames coming from within the fireplace, recalling the searing pain of being burned herself. She bristled at the memory, shuddering.

“I've never been here before… Oliver just came back to visit us sometimes after he moved out… it..it looks weird, but nice.” She glanced around the room at all of the flowery and green decor with a thoughtful frown. “...He’s not very subtle about his favourite colour being green. But…it's impressive. I didn't know that this is what his burrow looked like.”

She rested her cheek against her knees that were pulled to her chest, this time fidgeting with the longer strands of her dark hair by twisting them in between her forefinger and thumb, still not looking fully at Zepheera even when it was clear that's who she was speaking to.

“...I begged mum and dad to let me celebrate my birthday here… they said no, since it was too far away… If they had said yes I wonder if they'd be alive now. O-or maybe the human would've ripped open the walls the next day instead, I don't know.” Her eyes narrowed, still turning her hair between her fingers. “...S’not like it matters anymore.”

Zepheera watched and listened to Sammy, doing her best to keep her expression from falling too far. Though she didn't look that much older than the girl, it had been a long, long time since she was a teenager. She couldn't even recall having hung around one for any meaningful length of time. And that said nothing of the suffering Sammy had clearly been through.

Not that Zepheera's childhood was all sunshine, but comparing their pain was hardly fair to either of them.

“I'm sorry…” Zepheera breathed at last, not sure if anything she could possibly say would be a comfort. Her last attempt hadn't gone so well. But she knew how it felt to lose a brother, her entire family in one fell swoop, and remembered just how far a little bit of kindness and understanding could go.

“Those ‘what ifs’ will drive you mad if you let them,” she advised. “I know it's hard to, but it does help to focus on what's in front of you. It doesn't mean forgetting or ignoring all that happened, but… certainly keeps you from going through life looking back all the time.”

Sammy listened, keeping her face mashed against her blanket-covered knees as she tried her best to take something from that advice. It was difficult— she certainly felt bitter, and angry, and sad and scared and just about every emotion she could name— but dwelling on it all would change nothing. Even if she couldn't put such advice into practice just yet, she at least respected that Zepheera was trying to be nice…despite being friends with a monster.

“Well… I guess it's nice. I haven't really seen the colour green in a while. Or the sun. B-but it's hard to believe this is all real… I feel like I'm dreaming.” She shifted on the sofa, finally facing Zepheera more and meeting her gaze, scanning the other borrower over for a few moments before pulling the blanket tighter around herself. “I'm trying to stop feeling so scared… but it's been so long… I-I don't know if I remember how to feel safe…”

Oliver reentered the burrow as her words hung in the air, his eyes flickering towards the two but seeming fine with what was happening so far. Not interrupting he instead went to the now boiled teapot, putting on some gloves as he removed it from the fire and set it gently on a piece of slate on the ground. He briefly dipped into the kitchen, returning with the right leaves for what he wanted and what Sammy probably needed too, letting them steep in the water patiently.

“Would you like a cup of chamomile tea too, Zepheera?” he asked politely.

“Oh yes, please,” Zepheera sighed, shoulders slumping at the very notion of a soothing cuppa. Realizing how much tension she’d been holding almost in sympathy for Sammy, she shook the blanket around her hands out of its bundle and let it lay across her lap. She gave Oliver a grateful smile before turning a gentle gaze to Sammy.

“Look… Nobody expects you to bounce back so fast, after everything. Things take time, and even if it’s hard to feel it, being somewhere and with someone that is safe will make it real.” Glancing Oliver’s way, a small grin tugged at her lip. “And if his hospitality and skills with a quill are anything to go by, I should think you’re perfectly safe with your cousin here.”

Oliver poured the tea out into the three tiny cups he had gathered, making sure to pour his cup first to ensure he got the weakest taste; it was just basic etiquette to him at this point, not that he ever had many guests to serve tea to. He carried Zepheera and Sammy’s cups over, handing them over delicately before retrieving his own cup and coming to sit on the opposite end of the sofa to his cousin to try to avoid crowding her. Blowing gently on the hot aromatic beverage he simply listened for now, sinking into the cushions the moment he had the chance to sit down.

Sammy took the tea, looking at it with a brief sense of confusion and unease, simply holding it for now and letting it warm her fingers as she cradled it. At Zepheera's prompting, she remembered how Oliver had threatened Ryker and bristled, looking to her older cousin in alarm.

“Weren't you scared when you did that? You looked cool but you're lucky he didn't hurt you…” she pointed out, still slightly disturbed by the memory but also secretly admiring the courage required for such a feat.

Oliver hummed, sipping from his cup before responding.

“I've never been particularly scared of humans. But even so, I was just…angry. The fact that he had the audacity to act so righteous after keeping you down there for so long…” His grip on his cup tightened briefly, only for him to take a deep breath and relax again, looking between Sammy and Zepheera. “I've actually dealt with plenty of bad-acting humans before. Broke some bones in the process, but I do not like to stand idly by.”

Zepheera shook her head at him almost in disbelief, continually impressed by her new friend. Though it was concerning to hear the lengths to which he could go in pursuit of doing good and stopping bad people on his own…she couldn't help admiring his strength and determination.

Not to mention she'd never forget the look on Ryker's face when Oliver had a porcupine quill stuck up in it, ready to plunge into his squishy bits. Zepheera suppressed a chuckle at the memory by hiding it in a pull of her own tea.

She let out a contented sigh, feeling the warmth spread through her from the inside out. “You certainly have a way with handling things,” she granted, but then wagged a teasing finger at Oliver. “I'll say though, a little more warning next time might be appreciated. Nearly gave me a heart attack, seeing you swan off like that.”

Oliver let out a soft breath of amusement as he took another sip from his tea, smiling good-naturedly.

“Yes… Although I don't often plan on getting myself into these situations, if I do so again I will warn you,” he assured with a shake of his head.

He could feel the chamomile already working its calming magic, easing the tension that had built up from the earlier stress. He took a subtle glance at Sammy, seeing she was still on edge and had resorted to blowing on the drink every now and then instead of drinking it. He made no remark about it, only hoping that with time she would let herself be more at ease. He would rather have a dozen cold cups of tea left out than not have her sitting there on the sofa.

Sammy's gaze drifted away from the tea slowly and dragged across the walls, looking at the random paintings and sketches… Her eyes landed on one drawing in particular which she recognised her parents had up in the den. Perking up, she pointed in the picture’s direction and looked at Oliver.

“That's the one I drew, in’t it? You brought some of our stuff here from the den?” she asked curiously, wondering what of her things had survived. Oliver nodded slowly.

“Certainly. I recovered whatever I could— I have some of your old clothes, though I'm not sure they'd quite fit you anymore… I'll make something new for you soon, so you don't have to stay in those thin clothes… it's the winter, you'll catch something.” He added the last part in a lightly scolding tone, remembering how bare and shaky she had been before. It was a relief to see she was no longer shivering, but he could see she was still tired based on her slow blinking.

“You look exhausted. When did you last go to sleep..?” he asked, approaching the question carefully just in case she got defensive about the subject. Sammy let out a sigh, steam puffing from her cup as her breath washed over the tea.

“...Yesterday. It's been really hard to sleep— usually Tanner would hug up with me and we'd sleep like that but…now he's not here. A-and the fabric piles for me to nest with just didn't feel the same,” she explained, starting to fidget again with the cup handle and rim. She tapped her fingers on the tiny ceramic outside a couple times before finally taking a large drink from it.

Zepheera's eyes, which had hovered on the drawing Sammy pointed out in curious interest, glossed over. Her chest clenched as Sammy's words dragged a very dusty memory to the forefront of her mind unexpectedly.

Being oh so gently shaken awake in the middle of the night by little hands. Blearily sensing her little brother's upset, and not caring what it was. Letting him slip under her covers so she could hold him close to her heart until he could fall back to sleep.

When she leaned forward to put down her cup of tea, Zepheera realized how tightly she'd been clenching it. She did her best to compose herself from the sudden return of a memory she'd thought long buried, but her breaths did come slightly unevenly as she stood and began folding up the blanket previously draped over her lap.

“If you, um, need to get some rest, I can…take a walk. Keep an eye out for Gail.” Her offer came in no small part due to the assumption that she was one of the few remaining unknown factors that could be giving Sammy pause in allowing herself to properly relax. Not that Zepheera thought it was entirely on her, but she certainly didn't want to make anything worse.

He ground to a halt when his gaze landed on another stray pile of notes and journals lying to the side on a table. Anything he’d glimpsed on the way in seemed to be just the ramblings of a man losing his grip, but here…in the medical room, where he must have performed tests or experiments on that poor girl… there was every likelihood that he'd recorded anything he got up to. 

Perhaps including the mysterious substance locked in a box.

The Doctor didn't get farther than glancing over a few pages and partway through a journal when he realized he recognized the language in which it was written. He paused and stared at one passage in particular, and his eyes widened.

“Hold on…” he breathed, reading and rereading to make sure he'd seen correctly. Right there in black and white, the words for ‘magic’ and ‘science’ shared a sentence.

His jaw dropped and his eyes darted around the room as it all began to fall into place.

“No, no no no,” he muttered, befuddled. “Now, wait a minute, you… You?? But that's… That's impossible…”

Then he heard it. Off in the distance, the distinctive sound of the elevator being called back up to the office above. The Doctor snapped the journal shut and dropped it to the table, and made his way quickly into the hallway.

“Zepheera!” he called toward the back, even though she likely heard exactly what he did. “We've got company!”

From there, the Doctor sprinted toward the entry room where the elevator let out. He had to be there when Ryker arrived, to buy the borrowers time to make it there on their own.

Now he knew exactly who Zorro Ryker was, and the Doctor was prepared to stall him by any means necessary.

~~~

As the elevator descended slowly, it eventually opened to reveal a plain-looking man dressed in a grey button up and striped tie. He looked disheveled, no doubt having seen that his office was unlocked and assuming the worst. Clutching his head in one hand he stepped onto the cold tile floor only for his gaze to snap up towards the Doctor, standing aimlessly near the entryway. His grey eyes darkened at the sight, a low almost-reptilian growl escaping his lips.

“Who are you? How did you find this place?” he demanded, taking a few steps in the Doctor's direction although he seemed more concerned about what was past him.

It was definitely the Ryker Oliver described earlier; crucifix scar and all. Though it was apparent that he was very different to the man the Doctor had read about all those years ago. For one, he had seemed to stop caring about ethics, but more noticeable than that was his lack of scales.

The Anderna were a race of bipedal reptiles about eight feet tall that could take on the appearances of people whose DNA they consumed. They were discriminated against and segregated for centuries before going extinct at the beginning of the Celestial War. Ryker didn't look reptilian and he was only slightly taller than the Doctor— but upon closer inspection the scientist didn't seem to blink, his pupils thinned into slits.

“Whoa whoa, easy, mate, easy!” babbled the Doctor as he stepped back from Ryker’s approach, hands up in surrender and a sheepish grin playing at his lips. He did his best to look quite confused and lost and play stupid– his favorite thing to play. Gave him an excuse to talk and talk and waste time.

“Terribly sorry, didn't mean to intrude,” he lied. “Was up in the laundry and…well, y'know, nature called. But I got a bit lost trying to find your washroom, and ended up down here, and I still can't find it. Are you the owner? ‘Cause I gotta say, whoever put your floor plan together… whoo, you got ripped off!”

After millennia of encounters with beings with a multitude of biologies and powers, Ryker had developed a sensitivity towards the extraordinary and could tell right away that the Doctor was not human. That didn't calm his nerves at all though, only agitating him further. He could see darkness clinging to the Doctor and knew immediately that the vial was in his possession.

“You don't know what you're doing with that vial… It will swallow you whole,” he snapped.

The Doctor blinked owlishly at Ryker. “W…what vial?” 

Obviously Ryker somehow knew he had it, but if he could milk playing dumb for the slightest bit longer, he'd take the risk. Lifting his hands up even further in a shrug, the Doctor shook his head as though he had no idea what he was talking about. “I-I swear mate, I've not touched anything. Please don't be upset?”

Ryker pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation at the obvious act. He racked his brain for anyone who would have known about the vial in the first place, let alone known his location… Orna… No. If she decided to go back on our agreement I wouldn't have even known before it was gone.

“Oh for the gods’ sake, stop with that silly act. I can see the darkness clinging to you and I know you do not know how to handle that substance.” He gave the Doctor a once over, confirming that there was nowhere on his person that was stowing away a tiny passenger, unable to hide the slight relief when he saw there wasn't. Moving closer still, he pressed the Doctor out of fear that the same thing that had happened weeks ago might happen again here.

He glared at the Doctor and held out a hand; his skin unnaturally smooth and his slightly elongated canines showing whenever he spoke. It wasn't a perfect replica, but it was pretty close; any normal human was sure to miss the signs of an imposter.

“Now hand it here, before you get us both killed. It could spread to this whole entire street if you don't know how to contain it— I don't know who you are but if you just listen to me then you can walk out of here with no consequences.” He spoke seriously, hiding his desperation as he laid the ultimatum, hoping intimidation would work in dissuading this stranger from causing a problem.

The Doctor stopped backing away, letting Ryker approach. His hands slowly lowered, his gaze locked with Ryker's and sharpened, and his expression neutralized from the affected confusion it had held before. The Doctor looked him up and down and took note of the slight differences in his appearance, but chose to keep them to himself for the moment.

“If you know it's that dangerous,” said the Doctor evenly, a much lower tone than he'd used in his previous act, “then why is it here? What is it for? What exactly are you planning to do with something as powerful as you say it is?”

Ryker briefly faltered at the line of questioning. Since what had happened when the last vial wasn't contained properly, he had been going back and forth on his plan day by day. Whether to stop and find some way to destroy the substance, or to continue and hope he finds a solution. His eyes narrowed as he slinked past the Doctor, circling him slightly to give himself a pathway to the handgun if he needed it.

“The fact that it's so dangerous is exactly why it's here. In case you didn't notice, it's not supposed to be easy to break in here, let alone find that vial,” he pointed out, letting some snark seep into his tone, though his seriousness never faded. He was watching the Doctor closely for weapons, for signs of escape, for clues to his intentions. “And what I plan to do with it is none of your business.”

He stood up straighter, lifting his chin as he regarded the Doctor for a few more moments but found nothing familiar. Whoever sent him here…if he was sent at all— It seems to be someone I don't know. That makes this dangerous. If angels got a hold of this…

“I only want to help people. In my hands it could do great things— anyone else and it could spell the end.” He emphasised the danger once more, seeming to believe himself, though he was certainly omitting anything regarding Sammy. He insisted again, hand outstretched, “Hand it over.”

The Doctor took a half step back and slowly began to circle Ryker in kind. He seemed to take no notice of the gun, opting to meander into a position between the would-be doctor and the passage leading further in. Even on tiny legs, borrowers were quick when they wanted to be. It wouldn’t be long before they got close, and at that point the Doctor would wager a guess that Ryker would be really unhappy.

Belying none of that, a knowing smirk tugged at the corner of the Doctor’s lips, and he gave a low, humorless chuckle.

“Ah, now… Now that sounds more like what I expected to hear from you,” mused the Doctor as he waggled a finger in Ryker’s direction. “You want to help people. As one should, particularly in the name of science.”

He let out a long, almost disappointed sounding sigh as he crossed his arms, looking at Ryker sidelong. “Tell me, though…doctor,” he said, letting his teeth click together to punctuate the over-emphasised word right at the end. “Who exactly are you helping down here, hmm? You and your big bad goo in a jar.”

Now that certainly threw the scientist off, eyes widening before narrowing with a mix of interest and caution. No one had recognised him in many centuries— most presumed him dead, and the only ones who knew otherwise hardly cleared that fact up. Cold dread shot up his spine for a moment at the thought that He could have sent this stranger, but the only thing that reassured him otherwise was how he knew for a fact He would care more about freeing Sammy than his own blood.

“...You know me. But I don't know you,” he observed carefully, frowning. “If you were an angel I would see your wings… you're something else. You genuinely don't know what you're getting involved in.”

And for as much as Ryker didn't want to kill a random man, he would if it meant keeping that vial out of the hands of his enemies. His outstretched hand formed into a point instead, palm facing upwards as he pointed towards the Doctor's pocket.

“If used in the right conditions, that vial is the key to ending a two-thousand year old war. A person given that power could kill angels with ease— but if that person is not in the perfect state to receive it, the void will take over their body and dissolve them into nothing.” His fingers opened again, though his resolve faltered as he continued, becoming more unsure of himself.

“I have a…subject. They are the most compatible person to receive it and if I do nothing, millions will continue to die. I am helping people.”

Though the Doctor’s brow pinched to hear Ryker mention ‘the void’, he bit his tongue to let Ryker continue talking. The more information he was able to gather about his plans, the better he could handle things afterward. So, after listening to Ryker attempt to convince them both of the validity of what he was doing, the Doctor simply shook his head and sucked his teeth.

“Well. The ol’ super soldier route. Bit of a dodgy one, if you ask me. Steve Rogers notwithstanding. It always does sound good on paper, but, in the real world…it rarely works out the way you think,” he informed Ryker with a wince.

Then his ear gave the slightest twitch as it picked up on the tiniest group of footfalls making an approach from down the hall. They slowed down significantly a ways back from the threshold, likely able to hear the conversation the two larger men were having. It took all of the Doctor’s self control to maintain eye contact with Ryker, letting his head tilt slightly to one side.

“And, in my experience,” he continued, “the ‘subjects’ are rarely appreciative. Particularly when held against their will. Does put a damper on morale, that.”

Oliver slowed down as he noticed that the following room contained both the Doctor and Ryker, still holding Sammy’s hand. She covered her mouth, fighting off the urge to panic at the thought of getting caught by her captor mid-escape by remembering that panicking would just get them caught quicker… and she didn't want Oliver or Zepheera to die— as much as she wasn't sure whether to trust the latter or not.

The borrowers huddled in the shadows, Oliver peeking out just slightly to see what was going on. His brows furrowed in anger at the sight of Ryker's dress shoes from the floor, but he knew better than to dash out and endanger everyone else in the process.

Ryker paused, his hand withdrawing slightly as his gaze focused swiftly away from the Doctor the moment his sensitive hearing registered the sound of tiny footfalls. Multiple. Other borrowers? Gods, of course they would find her! Is she hurt? Do they have the same plan as me—? But they can't see the darkness like I can. She'll just get consumed like Tanner was.

He snarled as he snatched the handgun up from the table, removing the safety and pointing it straight at the Doctor with his finger hovering over the trigger.

“What did you do?! Did you hurt her!?” he demanded, seemingly more concerned about the Doctor being a threat to Sammy, not himself.

The Doctor's hands slowly lifted again, showing they were empty, but he continued to circle around to put himself directly between Ryker and the borrowers. Not quite the desperate faux surrender as he'd done before. 

“Didn't lay a finger on her,” said the Doctor in complete honesty. “And neither will you, ever again.”

Glancing between the gun and its wielder with mild disdain, he raised one eyebrow at Ryker. “Not very smart, is it, threatening to shoot a man carrying a volatile substance? Better hope your aim is good, or else… Well, there goes the neighbourhood.”

In the shadows, Zepheera crept to the front of the group, eyes locked on the Doctor and the gun trained on him. Like Sammy, she did her best to keep her head cool in spite of the circumstances. There were a good number of things she simply couldn't stop without help, and bullets were toward the top of the list.

She was almost certain the Doctor had a plan. Mostly…

With Ryker seemingly focused on the Time Lord, Zepheera glanced back at the others and nodded for them to follow her as she crept further along the passage and into the room. She kept to the walls and watched the confrontation between the two men unfold.

Ryker narrowed his eyes. “Oh I assure you, my aim is just fine. I've had plenty of practice.”

He could hear the tiny footsteps moving as they entered the room but he kept his eyes on the Doctor for now. It would be completely pointless to point at the borrowers and shoot— the chance of Sammy getting caught in the crossfire was too great, and he would still rather not kill anyone when it wasn't necessary. Killing someone you could restrain with one hand was a waste of bullets.

Sammy flinched, looking no less anxious as she started to draw blood from all the nervous digging and scratching at her hands. She didn't even notice, grounded by the stinging pain.

Her eyes focused up on the Doctor and settled, chewing on her lip as she looked him over, only for the sight to make her shrivel into herself further. She averted her gaze again.

“...I-I can't…he— he'll just grab me…”

Zepheera's hands covered her mouth, heartbroken to watch the cousins reunite under such terrible circumstances. As much as she wanted to step in and vouch for her friend, if Oliver was struggling to get through to Sammy then Zepheera doubted she'd have any more luck. She tore her gaze away from them and blinked the mist from her eyes as she turned back to the Doctor. 

Every word from Sammy only made him more upset for her situation, but much like Oliver he was making a concerted effort to push that down. Zepheera could almost see how quickly his thoughts swirled behind his eyes while they flitted over the outline of the enclosure.

With a deep breath, the Doctor began to rise. “You two, stand back,” he told the others, his quiet tone keeping it from fully sounding like an order.

Zepheera didn't know what the plan was, especially considering Sammy's voiced concern about being handled, but she trusted the Doctor. So she gently coaxed Oliver to follow her and stepped back from the glass.

“Be careful,” she urged out of habit.

The Doctor nodded, all of his focus turned back to Sammy. He stayed hunched over for a moment to try and meet the girl's gaze. “I won't touch you. I promise. And I'm sorry, so sorry…but you're going to need to cover your ears.”

With that, the Doctor slowly straightened up to stand over the glass case. He took off the lid and set it as far from the enclosure as he could place it. Then he reached into his pocket to remove his sonic screwdriver, delicately adjusting the settings to the lowest possible frequency he could if he wanted the process to be quick and relatively painless.

He braced one hand on top of the wall of the enclosure opposite Sammy, the one where Oliver and Zepheera had stood. Glancing between all the borrowers, he couldn't help a wince as he warned again, “Plug your ears!”

Pressing the button on the sonic, it lit up and began to warble. The Doctor quickly traced it along the seams of the case, resonating them just enough to begin weakening the seams. He could feel the glass vibrating in his grip, but it couldn't be avoided. He had to move fast and get it over with.

After two sides and the bottom had been excited enough, the Doctor immediately silenced the sonic and replaced it in his pocket, using both hands to tug the wall free. He put it down on the other desk and stepped back to give the borrowers room to recover after all that.

Sammy shook her head again, knowing immediately what was likely about to happen— of course, the lid was only a fabricated safety. Humans didn't care; they could just take it off whether she liked it or not. She completely gave up on protesting when he stood up, instinctively looking to Oliver for help but feeling her stomach sink upon seeing that he was listening to the human instead.

She covered her head which shielded her ears in the process. The vibrating glass and sharp unexplainable noise only sent her spiralling further into a panic, not understanding what was happening. She cried out and flinched as she saw the giant hands gripping one of the glass walls and ripping it free. With the terror still pulsating throughout her system she felt too scared to move immediately after, as if doing so would result in some kind of consequence.

Oliver wasted no time. The moment the wall was gone he was already climbing into the blanketed enclosure before the Doctor had even put the pane of glass down. He slowed down considerably the closer he got to Sammy, seeing how she was still staring wide-eyed ahead and twitching every now and then. Once he was within a few inches of her space her gaze focused on him, eyes wild and afraid. He crouched down to be at eye level with her, trying not to feel guilty for the hint of betrayal he could see coming from her.

“I… we need to get you out of here. Somewhere safe.” So she can calm down…but if she's not calm it'll be difficult to get her off of this table, let alone back to my burrow, he thought to himself. I…I couldn't force her to be held by the Doctor. There's no telling what caused all these scars but it's obvious that she doesn't want anything to do with his hands. “It's okay, Sammy. Can…please can I hug you?”

He didn't want to push too hard. It had been years— whether he was family or not she was bound to be uncomfortable. He could only guess what she had been through for the past three years and with no solid idea of her mental and physical state he couldn't just rush things. Oliver was already restraining himself from scooping her up, because for as much as he wanted to hug his cousin he didn't want to scare her in doing so.

She hesitated, still scratching at her bleeding palm. Now that Oliver was blocking her vision of the Doctor she felt like she could take a breath again, but she still didn't feel safe enough to move knowing the human was waiting only a foot away. Looking down, she nodded slowly.

Oliver let out a sigh of relief, but still made an effort to move cautiously as he leaned forwards before pulling her into his chest for a hug. He could feel how tense and shaky she was; her shoulders bunched up and her limbs stiff and twitchy. He placed a hand against her back and rubbed it gently, hoping to ease some of the tension sending tremors through her body.

“There… Zepheera and the Doctor are here to help. I just want to take you out of here and take you home, and they want the same thing. I will not force you to do anything but I'm sure you don't want to stay here, right?” He delicately lifted her head to face him and wiped at her teary eyes with a thumb, smiling sadly. “I won't let anything happen to you. They won't either.”

Zepheera slowly followed behind Oliver but hesitated just outside the now opened enclosure. The last thing she wanted was to disrupt any progress he might be making with his cousin after such stressful events. She shared a look with the Doctor, who seemed resigned to the reality of the situation. He'd done all he could for the moment, and hanging around was more of a hindrance than anything.

“Help her,” the Doctor whispered, his eyes all but pleading with Zepheera. “I need to take another look ‘round, find out more…”

Zepheera nodded, glancing around the room as she started to wrack her brain for exactly how she could help. “Erm… Can I have the chair?” she asked with a small wave toward the desk with the computer.

“ ‘Course.” The Doctor carefully stepped over and placed his hands on the back of the office chair. In passing, he glanced over the screens that had caught Oliver's attention. He could see why; Ryker evidently kept some notes or thoughts written down digitally as well as physically. A document was left open that mentioned borrowers explicitly, and reviling humanity for their part in endangering them.

Definitely not human, then, thought the Doctor somewhat bitterly. The laboratory and general situation had given hints to that effect, but now it was basically confirmed. Bit hypocritical, eh Ryker? Whoever you are…

Shaking that off, the Doctor lifted the chair and set it down with its back against the occupied desk for stability. He could guess what Zepheera wanted it for.

“If you can, make your way to the front,” he suggested. “And if you need me, shout. I'll hear you.”

With that, the Doctor began to gingerly back out of the room, sparing the enclosure one more glance before he vanished from sight through the door.

Zepheera let out a long breath to steady herself. Time to get to work.

She stepped up to the blanket cushioning of the enclosure and made her way toward the far end to join Oliver. She stayed a few paces behind, loath to butt into a delicate moment between them.

“Hey,” she greeted with a soft smile, hoping to not startle the girl too badly. “It was Sammy, wasn't it? Are you okay, do you think you could stand?”

Sammy had noticed her approach immediately, watching as Zepheera moved closer with wary eyes. Despite the betrayal she felt at Oliver listening to the human and letting him take the lid off anyway she couldn't help but cling to him. It had been years since she had been hugged like this; she hugged Tanner all the time when he was still with her, but she couldn't let herself cry with him.

As the Doctor left the room Sammy relaxed a little, leaning into the hug more before burying her head in Oliver’s sweater to avoid the stranger, Zepheera, from seeing her tears. Being vulnerable to her cousin was one thing, but to this other borrower who was also traveling with a human, Sammy just couldn't stomach the idea.

“I can stand…” she murmured, voice slightly muffled from the green cotton of Oliver's shirt. She peeked out, eyes narrowing as she regarded the other with suspicion. As she shrugged Oliver off and pushed herself to a stand her legs were a bit shaky but mostly from nerves, not weakness. She was slightly shorter than Zepheera, though not by much.

Oliver allowed her to pull away and stood up a moment later, trying to distract himself from the emptiness he felt now that he was no longer holding her. No hug would have felt long enough in these circumstances… He could tell by Sammy's expression that she was obviously suspicious of Zepheera, and he couldn't blame her for that. He could only hope that she would eventually understand that both Zepheera and the Doctor were not a threat.

“Why…why are you with that h-human doctor? Don't you know what he'll do now that he has three borrowers? T-that makes us more disposable— and, and it doesn't matter how nice he pretends to be, they're always lying.” Sammy spoke in a harsh tone, although the slight stammer in her voice revealed an underlying concern for Zepheera too.

Zepheera kept calm, expecting such a reaction. She stayed right where she was and slowly lifted her hands in a placating gesture.

“Yeah, I do know what he’ll do,” she nodded, confident but still gentle in her tone. “I know that he would sooner jump into danger himself than let anything or anyone dispose of us.”

Hoping to project utmost sincerity, Zepheera pressed both hands to her heart as she looked Sammy in the eye. “I’m with the Doctor because I choose to be. I am no one’s property, and he would never hurt or trap me. Or any of us.” Glancing Oliver’s way, she added, “He’s been with us all afternoon. We’ve been able to come and go, haven’t we Oliver?”

Oliver nodded seriously, his expression firm but eyes reassuring. He wouldn't go into a whole speech about how many humans are good and wouldn't hurt her— for now the Doctor was more important. Sammy needed time and Oliver had no idea what she had been through. Although…based on the various scars he could make a few guesses.

“You don't have to put your full trust into him right now, but he will not harm you, Zepheera, or I. Please at least trust us when we say that.” He emphasised that point the most. Of course he wanted her to be able to trust the Doctor but without knowing anything for certain he wasn't willing to push too much. The priority was getting her to safety.

He sighed with relief as Sammy gave a short nod and averted her gaze, hands fidgeting again. Now came the worst question, but Oliver had to ask. He couldn't risk missing them when he was this close. What if they were just hidden, or Ryker had them with him, or they were alive but sold?

“Your…your mum and brother, are they..?” He approached the topic delicately, heart sinking as he saw Sammy's shoulders tense up again. She shook her head quickly, as if to avoid thinking about it as long as possible. Oliver tried his best not to react too much as he reached forward and took her hand in a comforting gesture; and to hopefully prevent her from irritating the scratches on her hands.

He turned his head to the left when his ears registered the faint mechanical sound of the elevator rising. That's…the Doctor wouldn't have gone back up, so that means it's Ryker. We can't stay in the open. Like Doc said, we should make our way to the front.

Sammy also registered the noise, flinching and holding Oliver's hand a little tighter. Zepheera bristled as the elevator thrummed, and from down the hall she heard the Doctor's voice echo, “Zepheera! We've got company!”

“Okay. Okay… We should get out of here. Do you think you can climb or do you need help?” Oliver asked, checking his pack with his free hand to confirm that he had his hook and thread.

“I-I don't know… it's been a while since I've done it, but I think I can…” she admitted sheepishly.

Zepheera took the briefest second to run her hands down her face. It helped her reset from the way her throat had tightened to hear about Sammy’s family. Hers and Oliver's. But now time was running short, and they couldn't afford to waste it.

“C’mon, we need to hurry,” she urged, leading the way out of the cage. On the way she rummaged through her own pack for her climbing gear. Living with a human-sized friend or not, no borrower worth their salt willingly parted with a climbing aid. 

Approaching the edge of the desk, she called back to explain, “I had him bring the chair over as a safety net. Makes for shorter climbs on the way down, should be quicker.”

Oliver followed behind, holding Sammy's hand as they led her out of the glass prison. He found himself wondering when the last time she had ever walked freely was, and based on her hesitation when they reached the edge of the blanket the answer was clear; not since she had been taken in the first place.

As he walked with her and Zepheera his hearing started to mute itself, body running on autopilot as he thought about how many times he had been to this building since they all went missing. Could I have done something sooner? He couldn't help but picture them, now that he knew his aunt and Tanner were gone. It was only once they reached the edge that his hearing returned and his focus with it, however fragile.

Oliver jumped down with Sammy, using the back on the chair to slope so that it wasn't a completely vertical fall. Sammy caught herself just fine, so at least she still had some of the basic athletic skills required to navigate safely as a borrower. Taking out his hook he stabbed it into the edge of the chair’s seat and let the thread unravel to the floor. He also removed his leather gloves and offered them to Sammy.

“I'll go down first because I can climb quickly. Grip the thread tightly and slide down, alright? I'll catch you at the bottom,” he explained, before making his way down the climbing gear at a nimble speed. He climbed so often that it wasn't difficult, but since he had no idea if Sammy would struggle or not he figured it was better to have her not climb at all if the option was there.

Sammy hesitated only a few moments at the top before gathering her courage and sliding down, clinging onto the thread and looking down as the ground approached quickly. Just as promised, Oliver caught her and swiftly unhooked his rope, shoving it back into his pack.

Zepheera let them go first and followed quickly behind. She stayed on the seat with Sammy until she was ready to jump, and once they were all on the floor ready to go, she began leading the charge.

Oliver followed Zepheera as they began to make their way across the floor towards the doorway. It was a bit of a trek to the front of the lab, but at least the dim environment provided lots of shadows to hide in.

Sammy entered the opening and looked around with subdued awe. This was definitely much more similar to what she remembered as a child— more scraped together and not human like Oliver's burrow was. The burrow still looked nice but this felt much more familiar despite all the metal. A bonus was that it also felt far more protected in here than out in the open.

She looked around at the random trinkets with curiosity, having been too caught up in fear and exhaustion earlier to appreciate much of Oliver's burrow. It still felt foggy and dream-like even now. She didn't touch anything, recalling how much it bothered her when people touched her stuff when she was younger and not wanting to annoy Zepheera. She seemed nice after all— for a woman traveling with a giant scary alien.

Oliver also looked around the room, finding it to still be very interesting despite the more bare nature. It was telling; of the kind of lifestyle Zepheera had and what she prioritized. Her clothes being scattered on the floor reminded him of the many times he had scolded James for the same problem, eliciting a small chuckle at the memory.

“Getting this all together in months is still impressive. It's a nice space,” he commented genuinely, approaching to stand by Zepheera's side once he was done examining her room. “How long have you been traveling with the Doctor? The same amount of time, or did you go without your own space for a while?”

Sammy continued to look around, peeking at the projects on the makeshift shelf and the structure of it all with interest.

Zepheera scratched at the back of her neck. “It's…kind of hard to tell, if I'm honest. The time changes wherever we go, and I was never one to keep a journal or anything. Mostly it feels like it's been months, y'know? I'd guess around five or six.”

Thinking back on how putting together a place of her own all started, Zepheera smiled softly. She took a seat at the end of her bed, (one of the two spots to sit down) sinking gently into the foam mattress.

“Found this space pretty quickly, actually. The TARDIS has living spaces designed for bigger folk, so the original thought was that I could do up one of those however I like, borrowing to put it all together. Then I spotted the gap while he was giving me a tour, found I fit in perfectly, and…” Zepheera's gaze swept around the room fondly. “Here we are.”

Oliver moved over to settle down on the bed beside Zepheera, watching Sammy look around with a hum.

“Well, it certainly does seem like the TARDIS has your best interests in mind. Perhaps she can shape her interior to some extent and made this gap. Or perhaps it's simply a coincidence.” He smiled, feeling the bed before turning to meet Zepheera's gaze again.

“I remember when I moved out from my aunt and uncle's den I found it difficult to adjust. I knew I wanted to return to my old home, but it was a…difficult process.” He rested his chin on his palm as he leaned forward. “My first bits of furniture and such were very crude and I was rusty at scavenging. But… I made do with what I had.”

Sammy turned around, raising an eyebrow at Oliver.

“I don't get why you moved out anyway. Especially so far away… I know you weren't riding birds when you lived with us,” she pointed out. It made no sense to her, why someone would switch lifestyles so drastically like that when they had all been perfectly fine living together. She remembered being upset about it when she was younger and Oliver first moved out, but since he came to visit relatively regularly it wasn't so bad.

Focusing on the shelf in front of her again, Sammy's brows furrowed.

“I wish you'd stayed a little longer at least…I'm pretty sure Tanner doesn't know what you look like. And I didn't really get to finish learning how to read… mum didn't have time, and dad couldn't read either,” she added in a more mumbled tone, fidgeting. Oliver's expression softened, his mind immediately going to the writing and reading homework he used to give to both Sammy and Tanner that was hung up in his bedroom.

“Well… I can certainly still teach you. And Tanner, if he…” Oliver trailed off, the implication clear. Both he and Sammy went quiet, similarly troubled expressions plastered on their faces.

Zepheera bit her lip as she glanced between the cousins. Their worry was palpable, and she wanted to help them feel better. She just wasn't the most confident in her people skills, even after all the talks she'd had with Oliver. With him it was so easy, it almost didn't count.

Turning to him first to boost her resolve, she reached out to give his shoulder a squeeze. “We'll find him,” she vowed, turning a more confident look Sammy's way. “And if the Doctor can find a way to bring him back, then he will.” With one more gentle pat on Oliver's shoulder, Zepheera let him go and leaned forward to try and meet his gaze.

“You haven't seen him in action yet. The Doctor's insanely clever,” she asserted. “I've seen him undermine tyrants, dismantle armies, and save whole civilizations, whole planets. He never leaves anyone behind if there's something he can do to help.”

Oliver smiled lopsidedly at Zepheera's reassurance whilst Sammy frowned in thought. She couldn't imagine ever trusting the safety of her little brother into the hands of a…not-human, though she knew she didn't have too much of a choice. She just hoped when it came down to it the Doctor would stick to their deal, whatever that meant for her. She had been through hell plenty, and she would gladly do it again for Tanner's sake.

“It's…not him I doubt. It's the..unknowns about Tanner's condition,” Oliver explained with a small sigh, looking down at his clasped hands as they rested in his lap. “Whether he's alive or not. What mental state he's in. What physical state he's in. It's all new territory— even the Doctor doesn't particularly know the answers to those questions yet.”

Sammy bristled, not used to seeing her older cousin looking so forlorn. She hadn't really noticed earlier, too caught up in her own fears to pay attention to how everything was affecting him. She approached with hesitation, unsure what to do or say as reassurance. She always knew what to say to Tanner, but Oliver had always been more of a mentor figure to her so she hadn't expected this.

“He's— he's tough, he'll be okay… I mean. I'm perfectly fine, aren't I?” Sammy pointed out, trying to lighten the mood as she gestured exaggeratedly towards herself. Oliver's smile stayed although it saddened as he looked at her, causing her to stand up straight again with slight discomfort, averting her gaze.

“I mean…I guess you haven't seen me for a while, so to you I look a bit rough… but I-I'm not crazy or anything, and most of my scars are old now…” she defended, despite him not making any comment. Her nails dug into her arms slightly as she hugged herself, shoulders bunching up and brows furrowing. I’m fine.

Blinking at the sudden defensive nature, Oliver quickly shook his head, sitting up more rigidly.

“Oh. Oh, Sammy. No, not at all. I always understood you would look different, I'm sorry… I… I can't say you're perfectly fine but you're doing remarkably well for the situation. I…believe you would benefit from a proper physical examination when you're comfortable doing so, but I'm not saying you're broken or crazy, nor am I saying Tanner will be. It's just… I worry. That's my job as your family,” he explained gently.

It took Zepheera a moment to realize she hadn't breathed for a bit. She knew logically that reuniting the cousins after such hardship would include the growing pains of getting used to each other again, but she couldn't help feeling like she was not helping facilitate that whatsoever. Not that it was her job or anything. She just wished there was something she could say or do to make anything alright for them.

She was spared from making another attempt when she picked up on something ringing out in the corridor. Zepheera hopped up and leaned toward the opening of her hideaway where she could more clearly make out the Doctor’s echoing voice calling their names and proclaiming, “I've finished!”

With a deep breath in and out to refocus on the task at hand, Zepheera got to her feet and beckoned the other two. “Right. Time to go.”

Back in the console room, the Doctor held the vial in a set of tongs and was lowering it through the top of the glass globe, which now held a subtle pinkish glow reminiscent of a plasma ball without any of the beams. The bottom of the globe had been securely affixed to the radio. He let go of the vial once it was in the very center, and it stayed floating where it was put. Then the Doctor quickly snapped the lid shut and pressed a button, and it gave a sharp whirr.

He looked up to see the borrowers approaching again. “Alright. I've got it sealed in here,” he explained. “Unbreakable glass, should keep it from going anywhere if it somehow manages to get out of the vial. All that's left to do is turn this bad boy on and we should be well on our way to having a proper chat.”

The Doctor positioned the device carefully on the floor, hovering his thumb over the on switch when a thought occurred to him. With a glance toward the smaller folk, he suggested, “Probably want to cover your ears again. Might be a bit grating until I can get a fix on the signal.”

The warning was indeed warranted, because once he saw the others were prepared and he turned the machine on, it gave a squeal of static. The Doctor frantically hurried to turn several knobs, and the noise quieted down into vague fuzzy noise. Every so often one could make out half of something that might be a voice. 

“Come on, come on,” he muttered, sticking out his tongue in concentration as his manipulations became more and more delicate, fine-tuning the frequency. “Talk to me… Let's hear your voice…”

For a few moments it was quiet, all besides the gentle hum of static from the device. Sammy and Oliver both watched with bated breaths, hoping for a good sign. Finally, a soft voice echoed through the speaker, slightly broken and unstable at first.

“...Come on, come on…” It repeated the Doctor's words back almost like a curious child— which definitely matched the young voice being projected from the device. The goo squirmed in the vial but was unable to escape its containment no matter how hard it pushed and pulled at itself. “..Hello…? Is anyone there…?”

The voice distorted and wavered, but it quickly became clear that wasn't an issue with the device and was simply how the sentient liquid sounded. The last thing they had said seemed copied too oddly enough; considering the fact that no one had uttered those words inside the TARDIS with the substance in earshot.

As the black goo continued to convulse within its glass prison restlessly, Sammy and Oliver had both gone still. That…sounds like Tanner's voice. Sammy took a step forward towards the device as she watched the substance climb up the vial walls in her direction, growing more restless at her approach.

“Sammy..?” It spoke in the same warbled and echoey tone as before. The liquid squirmed and climbed at the walls again before beginning to gather itself into a much more recognisable shape. It wasn't detailed, but it was bipedal, barely held together due to its unstable nature. Although it had no definable features, there appeared a pair of tiny white eyes to distinguish where the face was as it sat in the vial.

Sammy's unease grew as the substance continued to take on a more and more detailed appearance; never shifting colours but it now looked just like Tanner too— if the boy had been dipped in tar or something. He had a sweet smile on his face, the very same smile Sammy had been desperately missing for weeks.

And yet…despite all that she couldn't help but clench her fists at the sight. She could tell with one look that whatever that thing was, it definitely wasn't her little brother. It felt too unnatural…uncanny. There was something off about the tone and the body language that Sammy easily picked up on after having spent nearly 24/7 with her brother in Ryker's lab.

Oliver on the other hand only had old memories to go off of when recalling his cousin, so hearing his voice and seeing something that looked so similar was pretty convincing.

“Tanner?” he questioned hoarsely, almost hesitant to ask because he didn't want to think about the implications of this transformation should it actually be the missing boy.

Instead of answering though, the liquid suddenly took on Sammy's shape, its body morphing into a dark duplicate of the girl— almost perfect aside from the long hair and slightly younger appearance. It tilted its head in Oliver’s direction to an unnerving degree, words echoing through the speaker.

“Tanner?” it repeated with the same sweet and innocent expression as before, seeming unnatural on Sammy's face. The voice didn't change, still echoing in the lost boy's intonation.

The Doctor's mind raced as he observed the substance’s behavior. It can definitely see and hear us, but it mostly seems to respond by imitating. Not reflecting, or else it would have copied Sammy and Oliver as they are. Can it…see into our memories? he wondered, unsure of how else it might have taken on the form of what looked like a younger Sammy in response to Oliver. 

The fact that it even could take form and speak at any capacity was astounding. Zepheera, hovering near Oliver and Sammy, couldn't help but bristle to see the stuff change shape and hear it's borderline creepy childlike voice crackling through the speaker. After seeing what it did in response to the others, she dared not draw its attention.

The Doctor on the other hand had no such qualms. He leaned down to more closely watch the goo as he attempted contact.

“Hello,” he said softly, hoping to reach whoever else the substance might be echoing. “We can hear you now. If you can hear us, can you tell us your name, please?”

As the blackened face swiveled robotically to look up at the Doctor, its body changed back to a young boy's. His hair was wild and curly, unkempt like Sammy's. He was dressed in what looked like a gown similar to what she had been wearing too, although on its amorphous body it was hard to tell.

It seemed to think about the question for a long moment, almost stumped by it. Eventually it smiled again after having reached its answer.

“Don't..have a name…” it responded slowly, clearly not used to forming its own words. It focused on Sammy again, easily finding her the most recognisable figure in the room as it pressed its hands against the glass and leaned in her direction curiously. “Can you…sing to me..?”

Sammy was a little startled by the question, immediately reminded of how many times Tanner had requested lullabies to help fall asleep. Oddly enough, whatever this entity was it was behaving similarly to her brother, but with slight differences in tone and expression or phrasing. For that reason she hesitated.

“U-um… I don't…” She glanced towards the Doctor and Zepheera, then shook her head. Even if it were Tanner she wasn't sure she could force herself to do something like that in front of strangers, especially when one was so frighteningly large. Clearing her throat, she got serious again. “Do you know my brother?”

The substance paused for a moment, before perking up and nodding with a smile.

“Yes— lots to see. He's here,” it responded cryptically, pushing against the glass again. Looking around at everyone it tilted its head just a little too far to be normal, as if fighting against gravity to keep its shape. “Can I…come out..?”

The Doctor hesitated. While he'd expected a certain level of awareness from the substance, having it actually take a shape on top of it complicated things. Especially when it seemed to take on that of Tanner, if the recognition from Sammy and Oliver were any indication. Zepheera seemed uneasy as well, looking up to the Doctor with arms crossed tightly across her chest.

“I can let you out of the vial,” he conceded slowly. “ ‘Fraid I can't say the same for the rest, but it'll at least give you some more room. I'm gonna need your help if I do, though. We're trying to find Tanner, bring him home to his family. If you can help us, I can let you out. How's that sound?”

It stared silently up at the Doctor as it processed his words, eyes completely blank and unblinking. Eventually it nodded slowly, white eyes scrunching up in thought.

“Tanner is…inside. He's okay. Just cold…” it remarked, its words continuing to echo like they were inside of a large stone tunnel. Smiling, it continued. “Showed me lots… I showed him things too. To make the water stop coming.” It covered its eyes with fingers splayed out so its unsettling gaze wasn't completely obstructed. “Kept coming from his eyes…”

Oliver regained composure enough to focus, his brows pinching together with concern.

“So you have seen Tanner? How do we get him back? Is he alive?” he asked the questions one after another, barely giving any time to focus on one. The substance’s eyes quickly focused on the borrower and regarded him with a mix of curiosity and confusion.

“Alive..? I don't..know what alive is. He's in me,” it corrected as if that explained anything, a slight frown etching into its expression at the new word as it tried to pick apart what it could mean.

Something cold dropped into Zepheera's stomach as its words sank in, unnerved by the implications. Just as she turned to the Doctor, his eyes lit up with recognition and understanding.

“Ohhhh,” he breathed. “So that's it. That's why you have an awareness of both here and the void, because you didn't just come from it. You're not just a piece of its energy. You're part of the void.”

Blinking as the moment of realization passed, the Doctor frowned. “Oh. Sorry, I did say I'd let you out.” Then he reached into his inner jacket pocket for his sonic screwdriver, carefully setting its frequency. He held it just slightly away from the glass globe, and only held it active for a moment. Just long enough to rattle the stopper of the vial loose, and then he put the sonic away.

Once the stopper was loose it returned to a more liquidy form as it gathered at the top and pushed the cork from the vial, slinking out through the top of the glass before taking on the form of Tanner once again.

“Now. If I'm right, then you have essentially become an avatar of the void, which means it's somehow gained consciousness. Or maybe it had it all along but it was impossible to know,” the Doctor mused, fascinated by the possibilities. “Either way, you couldn't have any concept of life because, by your nature, nothing could survive within you. Life is what exists beyond your bounds. That's what we are: alive– physical and conscious and warm.”

Holding his chin in a hand, the Doctor all but folded himself in half to watch the sentient goo as he continued to speculate. “I think you were somehow split from the rest of the void, and that was never meant to happen. The essence of nothingness can't easily thrive someplace material any more than something organic can thrive in the void. So when you interacted with Tanner, something had to give. But you didn't want him to be harmed, so…you changed his physiology to be able to cope with the emptiness inside you.” He tilted his head slightly in an unintentional mimic of the substance. “Does that sound right? Can you remember what happened when you and Tanner made contact?”

It faced the Doctor, smile unfaltering despite all the questions, seeming especially curious about his explanation of life. The speaker crackled a little as it took a moment to think, tapping an approximation of a finger against its chin.

“I remember…everyone else who entered was empty.” It gestured with its hands as it spoke, struggling to find the exact words to describe what it meant. “Empty like… me. Not moving or…thinking,” it continued, pausing to think over its explanation. “Not life. They were cold and asleep.”

Just as the Doctor had previously stated to the borrowers, organic life couldn't exist in the void— everything that entered it would die inside of the empty space between. And the substance, or the void, had only experienced death as a result, until Tanner was able to live and adapt to its environment.

“Tanner was not empty though. And I could hear his thoughts. And… feel his memories. I don't think I really…thought before then. I didn't know what it was.” The sapience that the void had gained was relatively recent, a result of its exposure to living sapient life for the first time. It tried to recall what had happened at the exact moment it made contact with Tanner but couldn't, simply because it hadn't even been truly conscious yet.

“I don't remember… he was cold and empty after a bit…I went in his body to wake him up.” It clasped its blackened hands together, white eyes closing for a few moments before snapping open again to focus on Sammy with a smile. “I remember Sammy. She's our ‘sister’.” A pause as it tilted its head. “I don't..know what a sister is.”

Oliver could at least tell by this point that whatever this entity was— seemingly the same void the Doctor had mentioned before— it didn't seem malicious. He could tell that Sammy was conflicted and uncomfortable about its words so he stepped forward to hold her hand again, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“She is Tanner's sister. You…have no memories of your own so you're experiencing his instead…” he corrected gently, brows furrowing together as he met the liquid’s gaze with some hesitation. “Is he still…thinking? And alive..?”

It nodded slowly.

“Yes. He thinks a lot. He's scared of me… I don't know why,” it explained with a hint of hurt in its voice, not really understanding what was frightening about the emptiness it was. His memories gave no explanation, and despite having the same memories as Tanner it couldn't comprehend what about itself was so scary.

In spite of herself and her determination to keep back from this talk with the creature that could lead them to Tanner, Zepheera let out a sharp huff and stepped closer to the contained substance. She could think of plenty of reasons for the poor boy to be scared in his situation. He was a child, one who had already lost his parents and then was separated from his sister and sent to a previously unfeeling hellscape all on his own.

As much as she wanted to say all of that, she knew there was no point to it. That stuff– the void, whatever it was– clearly had no frame of reference for any of that. It had no concept of family, of interaction with anything outside of Tanner, and anything it gleaned from him was extremely limited. So Zepheera took a deep breath and fixed the child-shaped liquid in a sharp violet stare.

“He's afraid because he doesn't belong there,” she asserted, her tone firm but not confrontational. “What you did for him might have saved him, but he is still somewhere far away from everything he knows, everyone he loves. Living people don't know what nothing feels like, so it's scary. And he's lost with no means to find his way back home, as anyone in that position would want…!”

A gentle nudge at her arm drew Zepheera's focus, and she found a fingertip there. It occurred to her that she had grown a tad heated– not angry, but definitely passionate– the longer she went on. Glancing up to meet the Doctor's gaze, she leaned her weight into his finger briefly to let him know she was alright. It began to retreat, but her arm snapped out to wrap around the fingertip, keeping it in place. 

The Doctor blinked but saw that Zepheera was taking all this more personally than even she seemed prepared for, so he kept his hand still and turned back to the liquid lifeform.

Ryker nodded and gave the Doctor a dismissive wave as the elevator doors closed, leaving him alone in his lab for the first time in years. The first thing he did was go to the back room and collapse into his chair, resting his head against the cold tabletop. After a few moments he lifted his head, peering at the open glass box he had been keeping children in— frowning to himself. He had never enjoyed doing it. He just…kept telling himself it was necessary. It was worth it.

I really hope Tanner is alive… or at the very least there's some closure. It had broken his heart having to force Sammy to eat and drink for the past few weeks, all because of his own mistakes. He had tried anything to get her to calm down and think of herself but it was only the past few days that she seemed consolable in the slightest. After discovering the depth of Wells’s meddling he hesitated to touch Sammy at all, let alone provide any comfort.

Standing up, Ryker stretched out his limbs and walked over to his desk, picking up a blue flower preserved in resin and placing it into his bag carefully, wrapping it in his coat to ensure it wouldn't break. He moved around, grabbing various journals, from his childhood; educational years; his first research papers, all of the things from before the war began and ruined everything. When he actually had things to look forward to.

With everything packed he gave the lab one more look over before exhaling slowly and closing the elevator doors, letting himself ascend. He left the building, which had no customers as usual, turning the sign so that it said ‘closed’ on his way out. As he looked around for a sign of this ‘ship’ that the Doctor had mentioned he spotted a police box that had him raising an eyebrow. Presuming that must be the ‘ship’ he was referring to, he approached and knocked.

Shortly after, the door swung inward with a creak and the Doctor poked his head out to grin at Ryker. “Ah, there you are! Come on in.”

He turned on his heel to dash up to the console, letting Ryker enter in his own time. The floor around the console was clear now that the Doctor actually had time to tidy it up, and he circled about it adjusting various mechanisms almost idly as he went.

“Not gonna be here for too long, so I’ll give you the fast version: bigger on the inside, time and space machine, yadda yadda, et cetera.” Crossing behind the center column, the Doctor leaned over to keep Ryker in sight. “While I’ve got you here, been meaning to say– I’ve read your work. A long time ago, back in my school days. ‘The Science of Magic’– brilliant stuff! Still use those principles to this day.”

Ryker only seemed perplexed by his surroundings for a moment before switching to exasperation. After dealing with his fair amount of powerful beings and what seemed almost like unexplainable powers he really didn't question why the ship was larger inside than it was outside. He took the Doctor's explanation with a nod as he entered further into the TARDIS, briefly looking over the controls before meeting the Time Lord's gaze again.

“It's been a long time since anyone has recognised me for my work. The only people who know me by name anymore are people who know me from other projects…” Sighing, he folded his arms and looked at the ship’s floor. “The version of myself you read about is long gone now. That man had a bright future. That man was never a prisoner of war to be tortured. That man had never taken a life before, and he certainly wouldn't dream of hurting children.”

He hummed, frown deepening as his brows pinched together with guilt and frustration.

“It's…reassuring to know that my name is remembered in that way, and not for what I've become. As selfish as that is.”

As he listened, the Doctor's fiddling slowed to a stop and he straightened up his posture. His expression once again darkened into deep understanding.

“History's funny like that,” he acknowledged, turning to lean his hips back on the console as he tucked his hands into his pockets. “They can never really capture war with quite the magnitude it deserves. Or the way it changes people–really changes them. They just tell you who fought where, and who won.”

The Doctor had held such a sentiment ever since he was a student at the Academy back on Gallifrey. Though he loved history as a subject, all the wars were difficult for him to pay attention to. Too grim a topic, especially the way the Time Lords taught it. To them, sitting in their towers of glass observing the universe without daring to touch it, war wasn't really war. Just a long series of names and numbers.

Until they got into a war of their own.

Given what he could infer about Ryker, his people, and all the talk about angels, the Doctor had some idea of the war he must have been involved in. He’d never gone near the Celestial War– he did try to avoid major wars in his travels, or at least the big skirmishes. As much as he liked to be of help where he could, it wouldn't do to play god by getting mixed up in such things.

“But all wars end,” the Doctor continued with a sigh. “One way or another. And believe you me…the burden of putting an end to them should not fall to any one person.”

The Doctor pushed off the console and let one hand rest against it as he stood to face Ryker full-on, his expression deadly serious.

“I could have so easily been you,” he admitted, just shy of a whisper. “I ended a war on my own. The Last Great Time War. The enemy was destroyed…and so were my people. The whole planet and everyone on it, billions of children who should have lived a dozen lives over, all gone… But the alternative was reality tearing itself apart. I couldn't have that.”

With a long, deep breath, his gaze drifted to the side as he pushed the memories back. “I call it a burden because it truly is one. Feeling the responsibility of a war on your shoulders. And on top of that, carrying the weight of your entire race because you're the only one left who can.” He locked eyes with Ryker's once again, and said with utmost sincerity, “I wouldn't wish the way we feel on the most vile creatures in the universe. And I am so sorry that this is where your life brought you.”

Ryker scanned the Doctor over as his words sank in, his expression shifting to one of regretful understanding. And yet, despite the sorrowful nature of the burden upon them both, his heart felt lighter knowing that he wasn't alone for the first time in centuries.

“I…am sorry too that you've felt the same suffering.” He lifted a hand, inspecting his palm scornfully as he pondered every terrible mistake he had been responsible for. Can it even be considered a mistake if I knew it was wrong? A sigh escaped his lips, the answer already obvious as much as he didn't want it to be the truth.

“This burden…it should have stayed with me. I've hurt so many people— given them burdens of their own, but the weight on my shoulders has never gotten lighter. In fact, it's only gotten heavier.” He frowned deeply, closing his hand into a fist. “At first hate was all that drove me. Now it's guilt. It has been for millennia. But all I've done is make everything worse.”

Shaking his head, he let his hands return to his sides and met the Doctor's gaze once more.

“You're a strong man— to not buckle under the weight like I did,” he uttered, an edge of self-loathing creeping into his voice. “Only a coward hurts children.”

That statement hung in the air as the men regarded each other, pondered the directions their lives had gone. The lives they'd affected, and not necessarily for the better. After a moment, the Doctor took a sharp breath; he didn't exactly smile, but something about the gleam in his eyes and the way he straightened his posture carried a sliver of hope.

“Well… Good news is, it's never too late to make a change. Can't always go back and fix things, but keeping on the move is better than standing still or sliding backwards. In my experience, at least.” With the ghost of a smirk, the Doctor reached out to give Ryker's shoulder a reassuring pat. “And I'll tell ya something else,” he went on, some of that bright energy returning to his tone. “This universe is vast. Loads of galaxies, billions upon trillions of stars with planetary systems of their own. Far-flung corners that have never even heard of the name Zorro Ryker. …Or of the Anderna. Places where all kinds come and go, and nobody bats an eye– if they've got an eye to bat.” 

The Doctor stared intently into Ryker's grey eyes– ones that didn't truly belong to him in the first place. He gave no command, and he didn't pass judgement on the man. He simply suggested, “So…there's no need to hide behind someone else's face.”

As the Doctor called attention to his stolen appearance Ryker couldn't help but bristle. No one had ever suggested he let his true form out— not since his race had been eradicated, no one even knew him by his old face outside of textbooks. His fingers brushed over the scar across his cheek, frowning in thought.

He had maintained this appearance for millennia now, simply changing parts of it to suit wherever he was blending in. At first it had been because it was a crime punishable by death for an Anderna to shift. And then it was just natural to him; his ex-torturer’s face staring back at him in the mirror every day.

“I…don't even recall my old appearance anymore. It's foggy,” he admitted, running his fingers across the scar again before letting his hand drift from his face, meeting the Doctor's eyes with scrutiny. After another beat or two passed he seemed to accept the idea, albeit with great hesitation. Perhaps if I shed this skin I can start again. Truly.

The transition was smooth; scales spreading up his arms and extending out into claws. His eyes changed to a muted green with animalistic slitted pupils in the center, and an extra three eyes opened on his forehead. His canines grew sharper as his snout extended, hair twisting and elongating as it turned into flexible horn-like appendages. His whole appearance became more lizard-like, with his scales patterned almost like a moorish gecko.

As he grew his clothes ripped slightly, eliciting a wince. I forgot how much bigger I was… He was now standing well above the Doctor at eight feet tall, a large pointed tail pushing out through the back of his shirt. With his transformation complete he looked down at his scaled hands with unfamiliarity. It had been an exceptionally long time since he had looked down and seen claws at the tips of his fingers. It felt…odd. But it also felt right.

He looked down at the Doctor and let his hands fall to his sides again, five eyes all focusing on him and narrowing slightly. His gaze averted after a moment.

“...You ought to tell Sammy you killed me. Or something similar. She's stubborn, if she finds out you helped me in any way it will be an excruciating battle to get even an inkling of trust. More than it already is,” he advised, knowing from experience that Sammy trusted essentially nothing and no one. Hyperbole, but it may as well be the truth.

“Oh, I’ll come up with something. Always do,” said the Doctor with a reassuring pat on Ryker’s now-scale-covered arm. He couldn’t help the twinkle of fascination in his eyes to watch the transformation unfold and see a bona fide Anderna before him. “Now then, we must be off! We’ll find you a new getup wherever we land.”

With that, the Doctor hopped away to continue working the odd controls of his vessel. At one point he reached under the console and whipped out a hammer to coax a few into behaving with a poignant ding or two. Finally, all that was left to do was pull the main lever.

There he hesitated, glancing sidelong at Ryker. Something still bugged him, and he knew his window for getting an answer was dwindling.

“...One last thing– truly, the very last, and then I’ll stop prying!” The Doctor gave a wince before letting his gaze flit between Ryker and the door. “In here, we’re cut off from everything out there. Completely shielded, nigh on airtight. I understand if you still don’t feel comfortable sharing, and if that’s the case you absolutely don’t need to answer. But…I have to know. This person whose blood you took for that substance. What are they? What could possibly live with this-this…essence of the void inside them?”

Despite the reassurance that the inside of the TARDIS was cut off from everything outside, Ryker still reacted to that question with tension in his shoulders, all five of his eyes rounding with fear. He composed himself a moment later, but the paranoia in his gaze remained. He opened his mouth and closed it a few times, the idea of answering such a question out loud leaving him speechless at first.

“...Jade Eye...I spent centuries trying to answer that question… but this— this being disregards all of the known laws of our universe. He…I don't know what he is. You should consider him God. The unkillable, immortal, all-knowing and all-powerful kind. A-and I'm sure he must be after me by now…” He suddenly gestured upwards, movements more jittery than before. “He watches humanity from above— with a single green eye. He's…he's real. Very real. And terrifying.”

The tall reptilian man shuddered, eyes glazing over as he recalled the first Eschaton again, the images of blood and darkness flashing in his mind. Snapping out of it he locked eyes with the Doctor again.

“I suggest you don't look further than that. He is…something higher than you or I.”

“Okay… Alright, I understand.” The Doctor nodded slowly as he took in Ryker's description, as well as the way he'd done so. Suddenly reminded of all of Oliver's reports about the man's deteriorating mental state, and seeing just how terrified these notions made him, he decided it was best to not press the matter further. ‘Religious delusions’ was right, it seems. 

Gods were not unknown to him; it had been a long time since he'd encountered one in earnest, but there were certainly higher beings out in the wider universe. Just his luck, the ones that had crossed the Doctor's path were primarily entities of pure death and chaos, and he'd found ways to thwart their machinations.

The name Jade Eye did ring a bell, but not in the context of such pantheons. If a creature of that magnitude had interacted with Earth in all the time he'd spent there, the Doctor would have noticed. As far as he was aware, Jade Eye was simply a name tied to a fringe religion as a product of mass hysteria. Nearly every civilization had a few episodes once in a while– more often than not due to some form of extra-terrestrial interference. When they could find no other way to explain away their experiences, they usually made their own gods to fill in the gaps in their comprehension. 

Given Ryker's testimony, the Doctor couldn't completely rule out the possibility of some omnipotent entity watching over the planet. Even so… if such a being did exist, something so impossible in their physiology that they shouldn't… then researching a potentially one-of-a-kind creature would be a fool’s errand. The Doctor couldn't waste time on that with a child's life on the line.

“Well…all the more reason for us to put Earth behind us. Eh, big fella?” With another firm pat to Ryker’s shoulder, the Doctor’s grin returned. “Allons-y!”

On the one hand, the Doctor didn't have much to confiscate in the way of technology. It seemed that Ryker either arrived with the bare minimum or simply didn't operate with high tech. He still took the computer from the very back room and had plans to comb through its files later on, just in case.

What Ryker lacked in the tech department, he rather overcompensated with literature. Specifically journals and notes, in nearly every nook and cranny the Doctor thought to check. Ordinarily he wouldn't have bothered with collecting every single scrap of paper he could find; anyone who stumbled upon it all might simply write it off as the scribblings of a madman like Oliver did initially, There was always the chance that the wrong eyes could find some meaning in his words, but that still wouldn't warrant such a thorough sweep.

Then the Doctor caught a few glimpses in his writing that he simply couldn’t overlook.

References to angels were to be expected, given what little the Doctor knew about Ryker’s past. The Doctor wrote most of those off at first as ancient history, expressions of the trauma he must have endured in the midst of the Celestial War. Until he happened to look a little closer at one entry that also mentioned Earth– not a known territory for a skirmish in the war, as far as the Doctor was aware.

At first he wanted to believe that it was simply Ryker’s own inner demons haunting him and fueling his paranoia that brought this notion on. That he’d simply been so used to being surrounded by enemies that he couldn’t stop seeing them. 

Then he remembered things that Ryker had said to him almost in passing. Things he could see that others couldn’t, like the aura of darkness emanating from the void substance, or the wings of an angel hidden from sight. It also wasn't in a particularly recent journal, so Ryker's mental state couldn't be completely blamed.

That was when the Doctor resolved to collect every single thing Ryker had written down. He couldn’t afford to miss a single detail.

He almost regretted that decision when he made his way up to the flat above the launderette. It was even more of a mess than the lab or the office. Scrawled green eyes stared at him from the walls, just as Oliver had said, only now the Doctor had some more context as to what they depicted.

Jade Eye… another mystery Ryker left behind. What exactly could an entity like Ryker described have to do with him specifically? Why did he feel Jade Eye would be after him, and how did the void come into all of that?

The Doctor shook off those questions and continued cleaning out the flat. He couldn't waste time speculating on every bizarre aspect of Ryker's life, as that well seemed nearly bottomless.

It took most of the night for the Doctor to bring everything he found back to the TARDIS and even begin to organize it. Time ran too short for him to look too deeply into each point of interest, but by the time the night cycle began to transition to day, he'd formed a few messy piles and filed them away separately.

One file was packed with personal notes and journals of Ryker's that, as far as the Doctor could tell, were simply to do with his own life, his thoughts and feelings. One day, he thought, he might go through all of that for posterity's sake, and to ensure that nothing in there had to do with anything else uncovered.

Any mentions of angels or the war went into another file. As much as he didn’t like the sound of angels infiltrating Earth, he had to put it on the backburner. He had no intentions of getting himself and Zepheera wrapped up in the Celestial War, but if it was beginning to affect Earth even subtly, then he couldn’t ignore it forever. And in order to deal with it safely, he’d need to be as informed as he could possibly be.

Much of the rest had to do with Ryker's experiments, and quite a bit involved a particular endeavor that left a sour taste in the Doctor's mouth. 

The Kriegerin Project. He could recall the name in passing, mostly tied to the Kriegerin Massacre, but never heard of anything as detailed as what he found among Ryker's belongings. He was evidently a major player behind the scenes, treating it at least in part as yet another experiment. 

From what little the Doctor could stomach to skim through as he locked everything away, he would administer a serum to his subjects, all children, to draw out special abilities from them. Only to pit them against each other in horrific battles royale every half-century.

There probably wasn’t a pleasant way for the Doctor to be reminded of what exactly an Eschaton was, but that didn’t make him feel any better about it. All those children…

He did notice references to a particular subject, a boy called Kiran, and the extraction of his blood to make a serum Ryker stored away for later experiments. That sounded awfully familiar, but the Doctor had to make the decision to look into that another time. He was running out of time to finish cleaning the whole place out before the others woke up. 

The Doctor breathed deeply as he lounged in his seat, running one hand down his face to massage all the tension out of it. It had been a long night for him, and based on the sheer amount that Ryker had written down, he predicted it wouldn’t be his last for a while.

A light tug at the shoulder of his jacket broke the Doctor out of his swirling thoughts, and he glanced over to find Zepheera climbing into view. Evidently he'd been so wrapped up in his head that he'd missed her return to the console room, and she'd made her own way up the back of the seat to join him.

“Alright?” he murmured as she got settled right where his shoulder met his arm.

Zepheera gave a nod and said, “Fine, yeah.” He could tell she also had things on her mind, but let it go for the moment. After all, he didn’t plan on dumping everything he’d learned about Ryker onto her, not until he had a better idea of what exactly to do with all that information.

Then something went crunch in his ear, and he looked more closely to find she'd let a tiny box rest in her lap and was holding something up to her mouth, but she was too close for him to properly make out what it was

“What're you eating?” he asked.

“Biscuit. Oliver made ‘em,” she mumbled as she swallowed. She reached into the box with her free hand and stretched her arm out long in front of her. “Here, try one.”

Arching an eyebrow, the Doctor lifted a fingertip up to receive the offered biscuit. It was quite big by borrower standards, but still had room to spare on the pad of his first finger.

“He baked these in that tree? Like–?”

“Like Keebler, yeah. Made that joke already,” Zepheera chuckled breathily.

With a bemused yet fond smile, the Doctor popped the tiny cookie onto the tip of his tongue where it quickly lost integrity. That didn't stop the flavor from lingering, though. “Mm! Wow, that is good.”

“That boy…” Zepheera suddenly mused, drawing the Doctor's attention again. He could see her staring ahead in deep thought, almost worried to say what was on her mind. “He's going to be like that forever, isn't he?”

The Doctor blinked at this abrupt change of subject, but pondered aloud now that it was brought up. “The void– or…Aleph, I suppose they go by now…changed Tanner's physiology completely. He'll be alright, so long as they've got each other. Wouldn't be shocked if at this point Tanner needs Aleph to survive.”

“You know what I mean, Doctor,” said Zepheera in a slightly firmer tone, more pointed as he danced around the subject. For his part, the Doctor met her gaze only briefly before turning away as a courtesy while he let out a long breath.

“The void isn't a place where anything is meant to survive. Based on Aleph's descriptions…I don't think Tanner did, either. I don't believe in miracles, but I'll say that he was incredibly lucky that the void was conscious enough to revive him in any capacity.” As he reached the point that he knew Zepheera was needling him about, he looked back to her. “Aside from Tanner, though, it would have no frame of reference for what exactly life entails. And at this point…it's hard to say whether or not Aleph has the capacity to adapt further, even if they can learn what it means to be alive. To be mortal.”

“To age…”

The Doctor's lips pressed into a thin line. “It's hard to say,” he repeated evenly. “All of this is unprecedented, to say the least. We don't know what Aleph is capable of, so…we'll see.”

He held her gaze until she nodded in return. “Yeah… Time will tell, I guess.”

Though the Doctor could tell she wasn't completely convinced, she sounded reassured at least. More optimistic for the kid. Reaching up to poke at her dangling foot, the Doctor insisted, “They'll be alright.”

“I know,” she said as she gave his finger a half-hearted kick. Sensing the end of their serious talk, Zepheera packed away the box of biscuits and scooted more towards the center of the Doctor's shoulder.

Once she had more stable seating, the Doctor hopped out of the seat and turned his attention to the console, circling around to each panel and manipulating a few controls as he moved. “Right! So… Where to next?”

Zepheera moved even closer to the Doctor's neck, clinging to his collar in anticipation of the usual chaos that unfolded when he began to pilot in earnest. “Honestly? You were talking up that dragon planet and it did make me curious.”

“Ahh, Unktenari! Well, I definitely won't say no to that one. We'll have some better stories to tell Tanner and the others about it, then!” He quickly punched in the coordinates and braced his hand against the main lever. “Ready?”

“Always,” Zepheera smirked, gripping the fabric even tighter.

The Doctor grinned widely and threw the lever back with an enthusiastic “Allons-y!”

~~~

Oliver would be back any day now, according to James’s calendar app. It had been a boring month and a half, with his hours filled by the monotony of writing crime reports and keeping documents up to date.

He had joked that he and Oliver had a similar career in the past, though he couldn’t help but feel envious of the smaller man’s passion and motivation. It had almost driven him to work harder himself— for a day or two, before the boredom of talking with his coworkers made him revert to wanting to shut himself away from society again.

Seeing Mackenzie on the weekends was the only reprieve he got from his own thoughts, so every other day he tried to stay focused on updating reports and going on patrol, responding to calls at the drop of a hat just to have something to do. Since meeting Oliver, making conversation with anyone else just felt intolerable; he hadn’t realized how much he hated small talk until he was brought into Oliver’s world.

In his restless state Oliver’s voice played in the back of his mind with the usual light scoldings: “I don’t see why you let the washing up pile up so much before doing it”, “you ought to keep your shoes by the door rather than simply kicking them off”, “the fridge has different shelves for a reason. I can help you organize if you need help”.

Now the house was tidier than ever before.

So when James heard a familiar knock against his rear window he couldn’t help leaping up from the couch, almost tripping over the coffee table in the process, and opening the spotless window with a large grin smeared across his expression.

“Oliver..! Hey mate, how are you? Let me get you inside, it’s still a bit chilly out there, ent’it?” He reached down with calloused hands, fingers twitching with a suppressed desire to scoop the borrower up after missing him for so many weeks. Even so, his palms turned upwards instinctively as he offered his friend a lift, trying not to seem too eager.

Oliver smiled back up at him, removing his fur cloak from where it hung over his broad shoulders and stepping onto the offered hand with the same graceful and unbothered energy James had missed.

“I’m alright, thank you. A little worn out— my rounds didn’t go exactly as planned…” he replied, leaning casually against one of James’s fingers to stay upright as the human stood up straight again and closed the window, carrying them both back over to the sofa. His deep brown eyes focused on Oliver, giving the borrower his undivided attention as he sat down and lowered his hand to the coffee table.

“What happened? Nothing bad I hope.” Once his hand was no longer occupied he opened the drawer in the coffee table, removing a tiny sofa and ottoman he had bought almost a year ago and setting them down. Oliver collapsed onto the cushions before James’s hands had even fully retracted, laying across the sofa with his hands interlocked over his stomach.

“Overall, it’s quite the opposite. I…made a new friend— a borrower very similar to myself, and acquired two new lodgers in my burrow.” Despite his claim, James could see the troubled expression on his friend's face and leaned forward onto his knees with concern. “The new lodgers in question are Sammy and Tanner.”

It took a moment for those names to fully process in his brain, but as soon as they did James could feel his heart jump into his throat. Oliver rarely brought up his family; when he did whatever pleasant memory he was recalling to James would quickly turn to grief, so both men chose to avoid the topic most of the time. But James knew that Oliver had been alone for years, and he knew that he had started coming to terms with the fact that his missing cousins and aunt were dead.

Clearly not.

James inhaled sharply as he sat up, scratching at his stubble.

“Shit, Oliver. That’s…yeah I can imagine what a mix of emotions this must be. Are they okay? How did you find them anyway? I presume your ah..borrower friend helped,” he murmured, keeping his tone tactful as he stared down at his friend with a sympathetic wince. Oliver let out a hum, turning his gaze from the ceiling in order to meet James’s eyes.

He sat up and cleared his throat; an obvious sign of an incoming ramble that James was fortunately used to at this point.

“Well, on the very first day of my rounds I ended up crossing paths with an alien time traveler who happened to be friends with a borrower, and they requested my help with tracking down an energy that their ship had been picking up. I obliged, and although it turned out my help wasn’t necessarily needed I’m certainly grateful that I came along because we ended up in a secret underground lab and Sammy was in one of the rooms.” He paused to take a breath, but James quickly interrupted.

“Wait wait— what the hell do you mean alien time traveler?? Where were you??” he blurted, brows furrowed with confusion because he knew that Oliver didn’t usually lie but it definitely felt like a joke of some sort. Giving him a mildly scolding look for the interruption, Oliver readjusted his glasses and waved his hand dismissively at the questions, as if he could make them disappear by simply batting them away.

“I will explain properly in time, just…let me get my thoughts out please.” He waited for a nod from James before clearing his throat and continuing. “Right…so. It turns out Ryker, the one I kept asking for wellness checks on, he’s also an alien. Not a time traveler though, as far as I’m aware. And he had this…void…goo in his secret lab, which then turned out to be sentient and it was attached to Tanner, so it brought him out of the void and back into this dimension, though I’m almost certain he’s turned into some kind of undead being. I’m…suspecting that he won’t even age, and the implications of that are worrying.”

James allowed the silence that followed to hang in the air for several moments this time as Oliver caught his breath. Regaining some level of composure, Oliver looked up at him and let a soft breath fall from his bitten lips, hand rubbing at the back of his neck in an attempt to relieve some of his tension.

“I am overjoyed to have them both back— every morning it is a delight to wake up and see them both and know they are now safe. But I didn’t think it would feel this difficult— I was not prepared for the state they were both in, and the thought of what either of them have been through just breaks my heart. They both have nightmares regularly, and Sammy in particular keeps crying out in her sleep.” His brows knitted together, green eyes cast downwards at his lap as his hands shook slightly. “If I could take all of their pain and fears away even if it meant feeling everything myself in turn, I would do it in a heartbeat…”

Logically of course, James knew that it would have been almost impossible for Oliver to find his cousins in an untraumatized state given the circumstances of their capture from what he recalled. But even so, he and Oliver had been holding out hope that they might be okay; just out of reach, living out their lives as borrowers in another city. From the sounds of things though it was clear that Oliver’s aunt was presumably not in the picture, and that his cousins had been through something worse than hell.

“Awh mate…” James couldn’t help but bite the inside of his cheek nervously as he tried to think of something to do. It wasn’t often that Oliver needed comfort, but it was clear that this was one of those instances. He reached down and cupped his hands together slowly, nudging Oliver with his fingertip, silently asking his permission to continue. After receiving a short nod, James let his fingers connect under his friend’s tiny form, lifting him off of the couch and holding him in his lap. “Sounds like you need a proper relax. You sore or anything?”

Oliver shifted uncomfortably at the suggestion; resistant to the idea as always. James found it endearing what a hard worker the man was, but he could also be frustratingly stubborn about not letting anyone else take care of him.

“I’m…fine. It’s out of my system now.” he assured, laying back against the calloused palms cradling him.

Now that James got a second look, Oliver looked even more exhausted than normal. Raising an eyebrow to call his bluff, James pressed one of his fingers against the smaller man’s back, rubbing it in a repetitive soothing motion. As he suspected, even such a simple back rub was enough to make Oliver’s shoulders droop.

“Out of your system, my ass… I think you at least deserve a massage and a cuppa while you're here. And while we’re at it, I’m gonna need context on all this alien shite before it drives me mad.” Making sure not to be too forceful and watching Oliver carefully to gauge whether he was just being stubborn or if he was genuinely uncomfortable, James turned the borrower onto his stomach so that he could massage his back more effectively. Saltily, he added, “I thought you said you didn’t believe in any of that sort of ‘conspiracy stuff’.”

Begrudgingly the borrower relaxed into the gentle motions against his stiff back, shoving down his embarrassment with a sigh.

“Well…I didn’t. And I still don’t think aliens have interacted with earth in the way you think— but I certainly can’t deny that I did become entangled in alien activity,” he explained in a matter-of-fact tone. “I met the Doctor, who told me he was a Time Lord— a species that coincidentally looks very human despite having a different physiology. He was joined by Zepheera, a borrower, although afflicted with immortality. They were rather pleasant company.”

“Rather pleasant company,” James scoffed in disbelief, but tried hard to focus on the pressure he was applying; very aware of how fragile the body he was handling could be even if Oliver acted like he was made of solid steel. “You’re lucky they didn’t abduct you. 5-6% of people get abducted by aliens, you know!”

Oliver shook his head, letting it rest in his folded arms as James focused on his tense shoulders.

“We’ve spoken about this before. Those studies are hardly substantiated, and even if it were the case that those numbers were true, that wouldn’t make 5-6% the likelihood of being abducted.” He turned his head to one side so that his voice wouldn’t be muffled by his forearms, although he didn’t bother trying to look up at James at this angle. “Regardless, yes they were pleasant company. I have…never really been able to act as myself around other borrowers, as you know. It was nice to meet one as open-minded and intelligent as Zepheera.”

James at least had enough tact not to make any retorts about it this time, though he felt a mix of happiness for Oliver meeting someone of his own kind who was like-minded, and a hint of jealousy at the way he spoke about her. He knew that his friendship with Oliver couldn’t be the same as it was between him and other borrowers; simply because of the size difference and cultural differences, but it still stung to hear him hurl praises at this ‘Zepheera’ lady.

To distract himself, he changed the subject.

“And the guy running that laundry place turned out to be an alien too? What do you know... It seems obvious in hindsight, the guy seemed to have a few screws loose,” James remarked, before grimacing as he recalled Oliver’s cousins’ involvement with the man. “...I mean…you’d have to, if you’re willing to kidnap a couple of kids.”

Oliver simply nodded to that point. His eyes closed when James’s finger reached a particularly knotted area, tensing at first before relaxing once he managed to rid him of it. He always found himself surprised by what a delicate and precise touch James could have at times, considering how clumsy he was in other areas. He was trying not to fall asleep, his tired brain latching onto the conversation to claw himself back to consciousness.

“It wasn’t obvious. You and I both believed he was simply a man suffering with severe mental health issues, and I believe that is still the case, regardless of his species.” He let out a weary sigh, subtly rubbing at his eyes from under his glasses. “The Doctor took care of him anyway, so I can just be glad that monster can’t touch my cousins ever again. Among…other people. It seems that the shootings were his doing— he had a hit list, although I’m not sure why exactly.”

“Wait what?” James’s finger stopped for a moment, hovering above Oliver’s shoulders as that realization hit him like a tidal wave. His mouth opened and closed a few times in shock, then coughed awkwardly and added under his breath. “That is uh….that’s gonna be a difficult crime report to make. If I mention anything about aliens to the department they’ll definitely laugh me out of the workforce.”

Oliver slowly forced himself to sit back up, stretching before reclining back as he met James’s gaze, giving his hovering finger a reassuring pat.

“Apologies, I…perhaps should have kept that fact to myself.” He offered a soft smile, one that instantly eased James’s worries. The human huffed from his nose and leaned back against the sofa cushions, glancing towards the kitchen in consideration, debating whether he could be bothered to get up and make tea given all of the huge revelations that were suddenly being brought to his attention.

“Nah, mate. You’re fine.” He turned his gaze back down towards Oliver and quirked a lopsided grin. “Ya know…all this information is making me thirsty. Fancy a cuppa while we chat some more?”

Oliver’s own expression brightened at the suggestion, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he nodded.

“Right,” said the Doctor as he looked around the immediate area. Even though there was truly no way for him to know what to look out for, his head was still on a swivel to take in the new surroundings. “Really hoping I got the coordinates at least somewhat accurate…”

In an attempt to be helpful, Zepheera skimmed the trees, a thoughtful frown pinching her brow. “I think we're close… that patch of trees looks familiar…sort of.” Her tone quickly lost confidence. The circumstances of her brief visits to Oliver's burrow didn't give her the best impression of its exact location in the sprawling forest, against which the blue wood finish of the TARDIS stood out like a sore thumb.

“We are close,” Oliver assured with a nod, pointing towards the east. “It's about 10 meters that way. There's a blackberry bush growing right beside the oak, so it shouldn't be too difficult to spot.”

“Blackberries?” Tanner perked up. He recalled the taste from the few times Ryker would bring him and Sammy a treat and it was definitely his favourite food. He wasn't entirely sure why they were in a bush, but he hoped they would be easy to get to so he could eat some later.

Oliver chuckled, understanding where the younger borrower's enthusiasm was coming from immediately. The few times he had been able to visit after moving out he had heard stories from his aunt and uncle about Tanner's love for berries and how he would beg for them just about every borrowing trip.

“They aren't quite in season yet, but I have blackberry jam you can try,” he offered with a fond expression, a smile playing at his lips. Tanner nodded along, though it was very obvious he didn't know what ‘in season' meant.

Following Oliver's finger, the Doctor's gaze quickly fell on an oak tree with a nearby berry bush. His expression brightened immediately, and he made his way there as quickly as he could manage without disrupting the borrowers in hand.

He stopped about a pace away and once again slowed his movements down as he lowered himself into a crouch. The back of his hand flattened a small patch of grass near the roots while he waited for all the smaller folk to disembark.

Zepheera's chin lifted to properly take in the tree and its surroundings for the first time. Though there was very little to distinguish it from any other oak in the woods at first glance, knowing that it was Oliver's home gave it an air of importance. It stood mightily in place, and would be more than sufficient to keep him and his cousins safe. Zepheera appreciated that, and hoped that she could remember what it looked like if she and the Doctor came back to visit.

Oliver stepped off of the Doctor's hand elegantly as always, the casual manner in which he was able to move from palm to grass showcasing just how often he got rides from larger hands. Sammy and Tanner on the other hand were still a little wobbly on the uneven surface, steadying themselves by taking Oliver's offered hand as they stepped off.

Once they were steady on the ground, Tanner couldn't help but stare at all of the colours and the light coming from high above despite the lack of ceiling. The sun, I think. The grass blades were about as tall as him. He reached out to poke it, surprised by the almost rubbery texture. After feeling the grass for a few more moments, he retracted his hand to stay huddled up in the fur cloak, as much as his eyes wandered.

Sammy cast a wary glance up at the Doctor, a puzzled look spreading across her expression. So close to safety and yet he still hadn’t dropped the facade. Even when she had made a deal to not complain once Tanner was safe, even though he had agreed she couldn't see any of the telltale signs that he was about to snatch her up. She observed his large hand more critically, frowning in thought and staring as if that would somehow make his fingers twitch in her direction.

Her heart rate increased the longer she anticipated something, before her eyes snapped up to meet the Doctor's.

“Y-you…” She cleared her throat awkwardly to get the stammer out of her words, shoulders bunching up. “You're really…just gonna let us go? Even though I said I wouldn't complain..?” She averted her gaze, brows furrowing with a mix of confusion and a reluctance to accept that she was being released. “You…you agreed to the deal too.”

“I did,” the Doctor agreed evenly. As he held Sammy’s gaze, he somehow managed to smile with his eyes more than what he let show in the slightest upturn of the corners of his lips. “The deal was, no complaints about anything I might do. So…this is what I’m doing.”

Glancing up towards the Doctor, Sammy inspected his expression for any deceit but only found sincerity. She shifted her weight side to side with discomfort before nodding in acceptance. “...thanks.”

The second Zepheera hopped down from his palm to join the others, the Doctor’s hand lifted and turned over without moving any closer. He waved a few fingers in the smallest shooing motion he could muster. “Well? Go on, off you pop. Gotta be warmer in there than it is out here,” he insisted with a more prominent grin.

Zepheera shook her head good-naturedly at him before turning to Oliver and removing the tube of burn ointment from her pack. It was hardly full, but plenty to last a borrower for a good while if used sparingly. 

“Thought this might be good to have for Sammy’s burn while it heals,” she said as she offered it to Oliver. “I know it wasn’t too bad, but I didn’t know if you had anything to help with the pain.”

Oliver took the offered ointment with a smile.

“Ah, thank you, Zepheera. I believe I have some herbs, but this will probably be much more effective.” He placed it in his pack before letting out a small hum of thought. After all that the Doctor and Zepheera had done for him and his cousins it felt impolite to see them off with nothing. He held up a finger in the universal sign of ‘one moment please’, entering his burrow and leaving the door ajar.

After rummaging around in one of the boxes he kept in the living room, he finally found what he was looking for; a knitted blanket. It was one of his first successful knitting projects in which he had decided to embroider the green blanket with purple flowery patterns. It was lined at the bottom with silk. He brushed off any fluff that might be clinging to it, shifting to hold it in one arm as he went into the kitchen and filled a small box with various biscuits he had baked, as well as a tiny glass bottle of cordial.

Waltzing back outside, Oliver held the gifts towards Zepheera.

“A parting gift. As thanks for all of your help.” He looked up at the Doctor and offered an apologetic smile. “Apologies. I don't have much to offer that would be of any use to you, but I can promise that you and Zepheera are always welcome here. Whether that's because you need help or you'd just like to stop by for tea.”

Remembering to keep his motions small, the Doctor waved off Oliver’s concerns. “Nah, don’t worry about it. Just happy to be of help.”

Zepheera, meanwhile, was speechless. Parting gifts were certainly a first, and these… She ran a hand delicately, almost reverently over the knitted fabric of the blanket, lingering on the embroidered flowers. Oliver had no way of knowing the resemblance they bore to the flowers of a weed she'd been partial to in her youth. Memories of exchanging them with someone she'd loved dearly sparked through her mind’s eye so quickly that her body couldn't decide whether to laugh or cry.

Before a consensus could be reached, she shifted everything under one arm and reached the other up behind Oliver’s neck to pull him down into a tight hug.

“Thank you,” she whispered, barely finding her voice after such a touching gesture. She and the Doctor weren’t usually ones to stick around for goodbyes, let alone thank-yous; they didn’t do anything for praise or recognition. Zepheera in particular often went unsung, which she was more than fine with since most folk bigger than her were a risk by nature, and most of the universe was much bigger than her. It was quite rare for her to interact with someone even close to her own size, let alone make a connection with them. Something about Oliver was always just right, no matter what.

At first Oliver was slightly startled by the sudden hug he was pulled into. As he registered her hushed gratitude he soon hugged back, sensing that the gifts clearly meant more to her than he had expected.

Zepheera swallowed thickly, not wanting to get overly emotional in front of everyone. “I don’t… You’re a good friend,” she said with a few fond pats to the back of Oliver’s shoulder before she finally let him go.

Smiling softly at her words, Oliver took her free hand into his and gave it a reassuring pat.

“It's not difficult to be good to someone who is a good friend themselves. It's been a delight to meet you and be in your company.” He bowed his head in a gesture of goodwill and fondness, then released her hand and let his own fall back to his sides.

While he sat quietly to let them have their moment, the Doctor did consider Oliver’s offer of hospitality. “Can’t say I won’t pop by once in a while to check in,” he mused as his gaze slid toward Tanner. He gave the kid a playful wink to hopefully take out any serious air lingering around that statement, then glanced back toward Oliver. “Might not be terribly often, though, seems like you’ve got things well in hand here.”

Tanner giggled when he spotted the wink, glad to know that this wasn't a goodbye forever, as much as he was still reluctant to lose two new friends so quickly. He glanced up at Sammy for a moment, debating whether to leave the fur cloak they were both huddled up in or not. His indecisive staring seemed to catch her attention as he found himself suddenly meeting her gaze, averting it swiftly like he had been caught doing something wrong.

Sammy knew exactly what he was thinking with one look, and as reluctant as she was to allow it she also began to accept that maybe—just maybe—the Doctor wasn't like the larger folk she had interacted with in the past. With a sigh, she opened up the cloak and nodded her head in the giant's direction.

“...Go on then.”

Tanner brightened up once he got his sister's approval and, unable to contain his desire, he disappeared in an instant and reappeared standing on the grass just beside one of the Doctor's hands still planted on the ground. He leaned forwards and hugged one of the fingers within his reach, ignoring the awkward angle necessary for it.

“Next time you visit I'll be really good at using my new powers. Promise..!” he chirped enthusiastically, before his tone changed to be quieter, almost hesitant. “P-please don't be gone for too long…”

The Doctor blinked, then chuckled lightly to see Tanner's attempt at hugging his finger. Moving slowly, he lifted his hand– and Tanner along with it– to allow for the room to curl his finger down to be at a better angle for the boy's embrace.

“I'll try not to,” he promised in return, reaching down with his other hand to gently ruffle Tanner's curly hair. “Just keep a cool head, and don't push yourself. You've got plenty of time to figure it out.”

Fascinated as he was by Tanner's very existence, he and Sammy had been through far too much for their ages to subject them to any more stress. The new abilities the kid was beginning to manifest, while intriguing, weren't exactly worrying so far. Certainly something to follow up with down the line, but not monitor all that closely. 

It was highly unlikely that Tanner would end up a threat to others or himself, based on the way Aleph seemed to frame their connection with him. And with Oliver and Sammy around, he imagined that was a fairly neutral and safe environment to test those waters.

Tanner beamed in response to the hair ruffle, letting out a soft giggle before finally releasing the Doctor's finger. He hopped backwards with a little salute, then ran over to Zepheera next and hugged her around the waist once Oliver stepped out of the way.

“I hope you have lots of fun adventures and missions with the Doctor..! I'll miss you.” He buried his face in her vest before peering up at her and tilting his head, pitch black pools meeting violet.

“I-I haven't really said goodbye before… I've never gotten to…people just go away someday. But it's nice, because I know you'll come back.” He smiled as he spoke that final sentence, content with the goodbye even though he felt sad too.

Though she hadn’t expected such an enthusiastic goodbye from Tanner, seeing him run up gave Zepheera enough time to anticipate it. She chuckled softly as she gave his smaller shoulders a squeeze with her free arm. 

“I’ll miss you, too,” she admitted with a small smile. As she turned it to Sammy and Oliver in turn, she added, “All of you. You’ve no idea how glad I am that you can be together.”

Looking back down to meet Tanner’s inky gaze, Zepheera shifted her grip on him to lay a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “And hey. Since you know we’ll be back, it’s not really ‘goodbye’, is it? It’s just ‘see you later’, and that’s not so bad.”

Tanner's face lit up, nodding enthusiastically.

“See you later! That definitely sounds better…” He stepped back away finally, to return to Sammy's side now that she had moved to stand beside Oliver, his boundless energy causing him to rock on his feet, hands clasped behind his back. “You're so smart, Zepheera, no wonder you're a space borrower.”

Sammy shook her head in amusement, ruffling Tanner's hair as she met Zepheera's gaze with some hesitation. Not out of fear or dislike, just unsure if it was her place to even say goodbye when she felt like all she had been doing this whole time was acting paranoid. Over nothing, apparently. She shoved her hands into the baggy pockets sewed to the sides of her trousers, glaze flickering between the ground and up at Zepheera.

“You’re… nice. Thanks for your help. I'm sorry for..being rude and all.” She lifted a hand to rub the back of her neck awkwardly. “Without you and the Doctor, I don't think I'd ever have gotten Tanner back. Or..even left the lab…”

Tanner's compliment made Zepheera smile so widely, heart swelling to see the boy in such high spirits after everything. Her expression softened as she listened to Sammy and regarded the siblings in turn. They had been through hell and back (quite literally in Tanner's case) and their experiences had obviously changed them inside and out. Truly healing from their experiences would take time.

“No worries at all, love. I get it,” she gently insisted. “It's…not easy to trust that things can be okay when they haven't for so long.”

Sammy managed to force herself to look up at the Doctor, as weird as it felt to do so whilst intentionally pushing down all of the instincts that had built up over the years. “You're not so bad either, space man. Just…you know. Really bloody massive,” she remarked, gesturing vaguely in his direction and wincing slightly at her poor attempt to be more friendly.

“Oh, I've been told. Repeatedly,” the Doctor assured her, briefly cutting his warm gaze toward Zepheera who shot back a smirk. “Not so bad yourself, Sammy.”

His grin remained in place, unfazed by her stilted words; he hardly took it personally, having some sort of idea of what she'd been put through at the hands of people much bigger than her. A fear response was only natural, and it would only do her and her brother some good to have space from things that might harm or trigger them. From what little he could glean about Oliver's burrow out in the peaceful forest, it seemed like the ideal place to achieve that.

A thought occurred to the Doctor, and he pushed himself up to sit on his haunches and dig through the pocket inside his jacket. He quickly extracted a small notepad and pen, jotting something down on the bottom margin and tearing it off.

“And this is for you,” he said as he carefully pinched the paper between two fingers and held it out where Oliver could reach it. “You can reach us here if anything goes wrong, or if you spot any kind of trouble that we might be able to help with.”

Spotting the series of numbers he'd written down, Zepheera remembered Oliver's limited experience with human technology and explained, “Your, erm…friend will know what to do with that.” She chose her words carefully, not wanting to give away that she wasn't the only one in the group who had a giant friend.

Oliver took the note and looked it over, readjusting his glasses only to be snapped out of his thoughts by Zepheera's words. His eyebrows raised in realization of which friend she was referring to, briefly glancing towards his cousins then back to her with a nod. He folded it neatly and placed it in his pack.

“Thank you.” He took a moment to straighten his collar before clearing his throat and offering a solemn smile. “Right. Well… I should get these two settled in and get to work on sleeping arrangements and such… But I wish you luck on your travels.”

He gestured to the burrow, leading his cousins to the door and turning back to look at the two time and space travelers once more and giving a polite wave. Sammy waved more stiffly as Tanner enthusiastically waved to them both.

“Bye bye for now..! I'll tell Aleph you said see you later too!” The boy called out, holding onto his sister's arm with his other hand, huddled under Oliver's fur cloak once again.

The Doctor gave the boy a two fingered salute, and a small, respectful nod to the other two. Down in the grass, Zepheera gave a small wave back, then hesitated briefly before locking eyes with Oliver. 

“Stay for takeoff,” she insisted with a warm yet ever so slightly mischievous grin toward him and the young siblings. “It's quite the sight from the outside.”

Clutching Oliver's parting gifts securely to her chest, Zepheera hopped up to stand in the center of the Doctor's waiting palm. They both now found it feeling quite empty without all the extra passengers. As the Doctor lifted her to his shoulder and she settled down alongside his collar, he slowly rose to his feet and took a few careful steps back before turning on his heel and strolling back to the blue box. It was hard to miss in all the greenery, unlike Oliver's cleverly hidden burrow.

Not long after the travelers vanished behind its doors, the light atop the police box began to glow, intensifying in time with a low thrum that the borrowers began to feel pulsing through the ground even at such a distance. A light wind kicked up the foliage just around the box, and it all but heaved an otherworldly noise; a wheezing groan that, in spite of everything, seemed to leave something hopeful in the air. 

The intensity of the light fluctuated with each groan, and little by little it all began to fade out of sight. What was once an almost obnoxious blue box standing out in the lush forest slowly became translucent, and then transparent. The noise grew distant until there was nothing left but the dissipating winds muttering in the canopy. 

Before long, the woods settled into place as though nothing had been out of place at all.

Oliver watched the takeoff with a sense of awe. He was grateful for the new friendship and for his cousins’ return, feeling a deep sense of admiration towards the Doctor and Zepheera for all they had given him. Internally wishing them well on their future (or past) travels, he gave a small nod of respect to the TARDIS as it faded from view.

Even with such an extraordinary view, his eyes were drawn to watch Sammy and Tanner’s expressions as they stared forward and watched the police box fade. His chest swelled with warmth at the sight, relieved once again to know that they were safe.

Tanner’s face lit up with awe as he watched the TARDIS disappear like a warm breath in the winter air. He smiled and waved until the blue box was completely gone, enjoying the fantastical sight despite his uncertainty about what would follow. It was hard to imagine what it would be like living outside of Ryker’s influence.

Sammy folded her arms around herself as she watched it play out, the weight of everything that had happened and what it meant still feeling heavy even when most of the reasons behind her anxiety were disappearing before her eyes. She sighed when the TARDIS turned completely transparent, a puff of steam escaping her lips.

A cold hand tugged on the threads of her sweater, startling her from her thoughts. She looked down and met Tanner’s bottomless gaze, seeing his own anxious expression and softening instantly. Her arms unfolded, reaching down to pat his head wordlessly. They didn’t need them to understand.

“Come along then you two. Let’s get you back inside where it’s warm.” Oliver’s calming voice spoke up, ushering Sammy and Tanner into his burrow.

As he did, he couldn't help but take one last glance over his shoulder. He had always been cordial with other borrowers when on his rounds or helping people out, but the only real friend he had was James. As a result he had simply accepted that making friends with another of his kind would be almost impossible.