Doctor Who Multimuse

“You do,” the Doctor agreed with a sleepy smile, letting herself be pulled back and ending up just putting her head back on Daisy’s shoulder. “Very comfy.”

“Was I asleep for long? Sorry, that can’t have been comfy for you.”

Daisy allowed her own head to drop down to rest on the Doctor’s. “Nah,” her head shook softly, “would’ve given you a good shove if you had been.” Her teasing words were followed with a jiggle of her shoulder.

“What’s got you so tired out then?”

Still, the Doctor smiles at her fondly and lifts her head again, stretching her arms out in front of her. “Not that that’s any excuse to use you as a pillow! Maybe I just need… coffee, or something.” She crinkles up her nose in disgust at her own suggestion. “No, not coffee. Tea! With lots of sugar to keep me awake.” Falling silent for a brief moment, the Doctor shakes her head and blinks a few times as if to wake herself up. “Or just a shot of adrenaline.”

“Have I?” She hums, as she moves over to the console; runs her fingers over the various buttons and levers within reach. “Time, I’m afraid, is something I don’t have control over anymore.” Hitting one of the buttons, she waits a moment for a response. When there isn’t one—which she had been expecting, really, but she’d been hoping that somehow her presence would help—she turns her back on the console and leans against it.

“I don’t know much. Or, rather—I know everything, and it’s stopping me from picking anything out.” Honestly, she’s barely even aware of where they are right now. For someone who doesn’t experience time in a linear fashion, time plays out all at once. She is both here and everywhere else she ever has been or will be, all at once. And it’s awfully confusing for a humanoid brain to handle. “This body is called Idris. I have a few of it’s memories from just before I took over. I think she was being… prepared for me. I was put here on purpose, so I could be…” she gasps, then, as she realises what the end of her sentence should be. “…disposed of.” For more than a few moments, Idris stands still, expression flickering between offence, anger, and a little bit of fear.

“Well, yes. Missy isn’t here,” he replied simply, as if that explained it all. But he was capable enough, he had to be capable enough. Because he was already getting the impression that if he failed here, that would be disastrous for all three of them. No more TARDIS, no more traversing the Universe so easily anymore. 

Nodding a moment, Rumple let out a breath as he carefully approached her, reaching out but not yet touching her arms as he waited, wondering if that would even calm her down. He knew if he held Missy and spoke through something it at least aided her in getting thoughts together, but who knew what it would do here?

“So the body has been prepared for you. Do you know who by? Maybe that will give us a starting point.” Maybe it would be by an enemy they had to track down or alternatively, it could have been Missy or him in the future that did it, in order to try to protect her. Either way, he hoped she knew the answer to it.

She doesn’t take much notice as he moves closer, too caught up in her own thoughts to pay attention to what he’s doing. Though she isn’t consciously aware of it, she trusts him not to hurt her, and that’s why she’s able to focus on her roaming thoughts. “I think… House. That’s what they called him.” The name rattles around her head. “House supports all life—that’s what they said.”

Taking the lowering of his hands to mean that she’s safe, Idris slowly gets to her feet. “TARDIS!” She repeats, temporarily ignoring the nature of why he was saying it, and focusing on the word itself. “Time And Relative Dimension In Space.” Saying the world felt like… a missing piece of her mind slotting into place. Idris nods, happy to have it back. “Yes, that’s right.”

Turning her attention to what he’d actually asked, she adds; “Right, yes. I do seem to be inside a body, but it’s definitely not mine. I’m not supposed to have one. I’m not built for it.” She’s far too powerful to stay in anything humanoid for too long—the Vortex is awfully good at burning through bodies. But that’s an issue to worry about later, she decides. “And yes—no. I’ve been damaged. I’ve been eaten. Am being eaten. Will be eaten. One of those.” Idris sighs, and brings a hand to her forehead. “Tenses are difficult, aren’t they?”

Cocking an eyebrow at her, Rumple let out a non-committal sound, nodding briefly. So. It seemed that this was the TARDIS somehow in front of him, the consciousness of it at the very least. “I see,” he paused, sucking on his bottom lip. Silence fell over him, listening to her, taking it all in.

“…you’ve sure picked the wrong time for this,” he muttered, the mere fact that this had happened when Missy was off the TARDIS just the worst timing. He could more than handle himself but even he would have to admit that the mechanics of this, helping the TARDIS in this kind of situation was something he felt vastly under qualified for.

“Right. Let’s… try to break this down then, and how we can stop this. Tell me everything you can.”

“I don’t know much. Or, rather—I know everything, and it’s stopping me from picking anything out.” Honestly, she’s barely even aware of where they are right now. For someone who doesn’t experience time in a linear fashion, time plays out all at once. She is both here and everywhere else she ever has been or will be, all at once. And it’s awfully confusing for a humanoid brain to handle. “This body is called Idris. I have a few of it’s memories from just before I took over. I think she was being… prepared for me. I was put here on purpose, so I could be…” she gasps, then, as she realises what the end of her sentence should be. “…disposed of.” For more than a few moments, Idris stands still, expression flickering between offence, anger, and a little bit of fear.

“That makes sense,” she hums, because if someone is going to create people, it seems logical to give them the ability to understand all the languages they’ll need to know. “It’s a good ability to have—knowing that many languages. Y’can communicate with lots of people.” The Doctor’s always been proud of her ability to speak with almost anyone, and it seems to come in handy a good portion of the time. “Well, if you’re going to be staying with me for a little while, you might have a chance to pick up a few more. Though the TARDIS can translate if you don’t.” Sumarian. She recognises the name of that language—it’s one she’s learned, she’s sure of it. “Yeah? I like that one, too. Been a while since I’ve heard it, though.”

She quite likes it when Lilith brings Adam over to have a look, just because it’s always nice to have someone interested in the things she’s doing. “Yeah, lots of important things. Or—things that have belonged to important people.” The word ‘important’ is incredibly subjective, but she means people important to her. And most people fit that description, if she’s known them for more than a day and haven’t been trying to kill her. The collection seems a little bit odd—there’s a denim jacket that was left behind by Rose Tyler, and a pair of sunglasses on a shelf that belonged to Amy Pond—but it all makes sense to her. Everything has its place.

It’s encouraging to see that Adam likes the mobile, and the Doctor smiles as he goes to touch it. “You’re welcome.” She says with a nod, letting out a breath. “I’ve got the space, anyway—and the cot. So it’s not exactly putting me out to have you here.” Far from that, actually—having someone here is exciting. She’s missed it immensely, and often finds herself speaking aloud as if someone is around to hear her.

“D’ya think he’s limited to looking for you on Earth?”

“That’s true….” Lilith allowed, “But languages are also power. Things–spells, for instance–that are translated from their original text are…unavoidably diluted” They could still work, of course, but Lilith preferred the potency of something cast in its original language with the full power of its original intent. Though of course with Lilith’s own level of power she could usually make anything work no matter the…alterations. But it didn’t surprise her that The Doctor’s first thoughts had been to communication instead; in the time Lilith had known her, she had struck the first witch as someone who found connections and people of greater importance than anything else. She’d met types like that before over the millennia; they usually ended up being killed, victims of…ignorance and mob mentality. Or their own naivety. 

“Important” Lilith repeated, angling herself a little so she could see some of the many items that cluttered the cupboard, but she could see nothing of any…quantifiable value and privately wondered if the Doctor’s definition of ‘important’ was more personal than official. But despite her wish to dismiss the entire concept as absurd or…ridiculously sentimental, a weakness, Lilith couldn’t deny she now understood something of that mentality. If she didn’t, she would have thrown Adam’s ring away the moment he was killed, and she certainly wouldn’t wear it on her left hand. 

“Lucifer is powerful, but he’s not a God– no matter how he pretends otherwise– so I believe he’s limited to earth, yes,” Lilith confirmed, even as her son continued to bat and reach out for the mobile, entirely oblivious to the sudden solemnity of his Mother’s conversation. “But even if he wasn’t he wouldn’t think to look further. Aside from the fact he often underestimates me, he isn’t….imaginative enough to think so far afield as actual space” At least, Lilith hoped he wasn’t. As relatively sure as she felt that he couldn’t follow her here, she wasn’t exactly eager to….test the theory. 

“Which means that, finally, Adam’s safe” Lilith concluded, feeling the relief of that reality rush through her. She moved to settle her son in the cot he’d just been gifted, but glancing at the Doctor, at her eager and enthusiastic expression, as well as considering everything she’d done for them, Lilith pressed her lips together in momentary debate before asking; “Did you want hold him?”

And that’s an interesting thought—having a baby here, travelling with her. Growing up around her. She’d wanted that for baby Melody, and she’d wanted that for her great-grandson, but neither of those ideas had gone to plan. But this time… Well, she shouldn’t get ahead of herself. Lilith could very well end up finding someone better, or the threat might go away, or…

“Oh,” she hummed, not really sure what she’d expected. “Every time I’ve gone through a portal, it’s been… well, it wasn’t through something solid. It’s always been connected to an actual doorway, or—I had a big cardboard box, once, but the back was missing, so y’just crawled straight through. It was just like walking through the TARDIS doors, but smaller. And there was a lot more snow on the other side.”

“Every Earth language, then.” She corrected absentmindedly, as her eyes flicked over the objects in her cupboard. “Earth is only one planet, in one solar system, in a tiny corner of the universe. It’s my favourite corner of the universe, but—there’s a lot more out there. Thousands more languages to learn.” Not that she was trying to be condescending, and she did hope it wasn’t coming across that way. There was just… a lot to learn. Plenty of places to see. “I don’t know many people who can speak all the Earth languages, though. Is that a genetic thing—like, Witches are faster at picking things up—or have you just had a lot of time on your hands?” Not that she was judging—far from it, in fact, when the Doctor spoke almost every language in the known universe. She’d had a lot of time on her hands.

“Well,” she started, as she moved things around in the cupboard; pulling out completely random assortments of items to make herself room to get further in, “this is my cupboard of important things.” Though, really, there were far more important things on her TARDIS than what she kept stored in one little corner of her library—antidotes to poisons; spare components that she’d need if the ship broke down—but these things were important to her. They held sentimental value. “And I know that I’ve got—Aha!” Triumphantly, she poked her head back out into the room, and grinned. “Found it!”

A moment later, she walked back into the room, carrying a very old looking cot. It was still sturdy, and perfectly good for what it was meant for, but the TARDIS-blue paint wasn’t as bright as it once had been. The Doctor looked lost in thought, for a moment, as she looked it over—ran a finger over the High Gallifreyan circular writing on the side of the cot—and then snapped back to reality as she looked back at the two of them. “Y’don’t have to use this in the long run, but—he can sleep in this for now, if y’like.” With a soft smile, she flicked the mobile hanging over the cot; making the stars and the planets spin. “Jus’ so he has somewhere.”

“Well, I’ve never really had the desire or the means to travel any further than earthly or infernal realms before,” Lilith answered. And if she’d never before travelled beyond all that, then why would she have any desire or interest in learning languages from beyond it too? Lilith was intelligent and well read and she enjoyed knowledge, not just for the power and freedom it often brought, but for the general interest of it too….but speaking a language that no one in her own singular cosmos could wasn’t the sort of…unuseable knowledge Lilith would have had any interest in retaining. 

“And I was created when there were very few languages in the world…and the False God that made me could speak all of them. Naturally, he wanted me and my ex-husband to be able to speak them too” Lilith explained further, “The rest…they came over time. Living for thousands of years in this one ‘tiny corner of the universe’ means it’s inevitable you pick up the languages…even when humanity starts to forget them” She paused for a moment, before adding, “I like Sumerian” But that language was long dead now. English, for it’s frequency, was certainly the most convenient. 

“A cupboard of important things?” Lilith raised an eyebrow at the Doctor even as she gently tickled Adam’s feet. Her son, however, seemed much more interested in the chaos being pulled out piece by piece from the cupboard in question, and Lilith couldn’t deny that her own curiosity was piqued too. Eventually, giving in to it, Lilith scooped Adam up in her arms and stood so that they both could get a better look at just what precisely the Doctor was trying to find. 

It turned out to be something much more practical than Lilith had been expecting. 

“A cot” She said in mild surprise, walking over to it. “You found a cot for him” First the Spellman sisters and the coven, now the Doctor…all of them helping Lilith in ways she hadn’t even asked for. She had grown so used over the millennia to people offering her the bare minimum of help, if they offered any at all, that the frequency with which certain people had been going…above and beyond lately was bewildering her. Adam reached out eagerly the moment the other woman flicked the mobile, his tiny hands desperately trying to grab at them. Lilith moved closer so he could touch the planets with the tips of his fingers, and she watched him for a moment before turning her attention back to the Doctor.

She quite likes it when Lilith brings Adam over to have a look, just because it’s always nice to have someone interested in the things she’s doing. “Yeah, lots of important things. Or—things that have belonged to important people.” The word ‘important’ is incredibly subjective, but she means people important to her. And most people fit that description, if she’s known them for more than a day and haven’t been trying to kill her. The collection seems a little bit odd—there’s a denim jacket that was left behind by Rose Tyler, and a pair of sunglasses on a shelf that belonged to Amy Pond—but it all makes sense to her. Everything has its place.

It’s encouraging to see that Adam likes the mobile, and the Doctor smiles as he goes to touch it. “You’re welcome.” She says with a nod, letting out a breath. “I’ve got the space, anyway—and the cot. So it’s not exactly putting me out to have you here.” Far from that, actually—having someone here is exciting. She’s missed it immensely, and often finds herself speaking aloud as if someone is around to hear her.