Just Another Day with the Boys

"As n increases, variability decreases. You can also increase the power of the test by increasing n. What other ways can you increase the power?"

Pencil trick; I spun it around my thumb and back to its position. It worked.

"That's right – decrease sigma, change the null hypothesis, and increase level alpha. In these cases, sigma will always be given to you."

Another pencil trick. Failed. I heaved a sigh as my pencil bounced across the floor, making a mental note that I would retrieve it after the lecture. I grabbed another pen from my pencil case and spun it. It clattered on the desk – failed again.

"Remember the steps to solve these problems," my teacher droned on. "Parameter, assumptions, name the test, calculate the intervals, then write your conclusion in context. Never forget context!"

My eyes wandered to the slow-moving clock that ticked as every agonizing second went by, and I wondered how the five minutes that passed had felt like an hour. The air blowing from the vents above me was uncomfortable, and I wondered why the air conditioner was on in the middle of February. I forced my gaze on the whiteboard, littered with my teacher's chicken scratch, scrawled with statistic formulas and special rules that all seemed too familiar to each other. And to think I had another forty five minutes of this torture.

Good God, I silently pleaded. Someone come and save me.

I closed my eyes and my teacher's voice faded into the background. My ears picked up the monotonous ticking of the clock, and someone next to me coughed quietly. Another sniffled. My head felt heavy as drowsiness began to sweep over me…

A sound echoed outside the hallway. My eyes snapped open. That noise.

It couldn't be.

My head turned slowly to the door. The sound resonated louder until it reached its peak. Everyone else in the classroom turned their attention to the door, whispering and speculating on what it was. They had no idea.

But I knew.

Oh yes. I knew what it was.

"TARDIS," I said, loud enough for the whole class to cast me confused glances. The sound faded away, only to be replaced by the sound of a door opening and closing. A few pairs of feet shuffled outside the classroom door, and there were voices that were muttering to each other, barely audible from where I was sitting. They fiddled with a door handle, and I heard a noise that resembled somewhat of a smack, followed by an "ow."

"I locked the door, guys," my teacher explained calmly, although I could hear a tinge of worry in his voice. A few seconds later, another familiar sound reverberated in the halls.

"I don't know why it's not working." It was obvious that the voice belonged to a man, but it had a childish whine to it, muffled through the door's thickness. "It's not deadlocked."

"Oh, for God's sake, move aside," another voice said impatiently. Both of them had a sort of British accent.

"I locked it," my teacher repeated, nervousness creeping into his voice. "We're fine."

"That flimsy lock isn't going to hold them back, Mr. Chris," I said with a small laugh. The tension in the room began to mount as the two men on the other side continued to work on the lock.

"We'll just use mine," the second voice exclaimed. There was more fiddling, and then silence enveloped the room. Finally, the lock clicked and the door swung inward.

A familiar head poked out from the side and scanned the faces in the room. "Now, where is she?" He was the man with the childish tenure to his voice.

I couldn't believe my eyes. "Oh my God."

The second man strode in, pocketing his sonic screwdriver. "Not quite," he said casually, surveying the room curiously.

Before I knew what I was doing, I stood up and approached them. I ignored my teacher's cries of protest, taking in the two men who were standing before me. "Doctor," I whispered, mostly to myself.

The first man approached me as he clenched and unclenched his hands in the manner that was familiar to me. He had dark brown hair that was swept down and across his forehead that brought out his intelligent and playful green eyes. His chin was a sort of a nuisance, but it was appropriate for his open face. He wore an old wool coat, finished with a red bowtie.

"Bowties are cool," I blurted.

When he raised his hands to straighten his tie with a smile shining on his face, I could see matching red suspenders that were clipped onto black pants that seemed as though they were too short of him. The missing length was made up with his boots, laced at the ankles. "Hello, I am the Doctor."

"Ehm, no, I'm the Doctor," the second man interjected, sticking out his hand for me to shake. His large brown eyes did not rest on me, however, as he turned his head to stare at the whiteboard covered with mathematical formulas. He had messy, light brown hair that stuck up in every direction, with sideburns that were unique only to him. He wore a brown pin-striped suit with matching pants, as well as a decorative tie tucked under his vest. I couldn't help but smile even wider as I saw the white Converse on his feet.

"How is this possible?" I mumbled, moving my gaze from one Doctor to the other. "This shouldn't be possible."

"I don't understand this is all here, sir," the Doctor wearing the Converse gestured flippantly at the whiteboard. "These formulas don't make sense whatsoever. Doctor?" He turned to the Doctor with the bowtie.

"Hmm? What?" The Doctor with the bowtie shifted his gaze to the board as well. After scanning it for a few seconds, he turned back to me, puzzled. "Yes. Most certainly. We need to get you out of here. This is a bad place to learn, very bad indeed."

"Excuse me?"

"You've got the formulas all wrong, right here." The Doctor wearing the Converse strode to the board and erased almost half of what was written. "While I educate the 'teacher,' Doctor, escort the missus out, please."

"Ah, yes. Come along." Without another word, he turned and strutted out of the room, leaving me to stare at him in disbelief. When he realized that I wasn't following him, he stuck his head back in the room. "What? What is it?"

"What – what am I supposed to do with my things?" I gestured to my notes. "I can't just leave it here -"

"Not to worry, miss," the Doctor said as he scrawled over my teacher's writing, his eyes never wandering from the board, "Just a little time will pass here – they'll hardly realize that you'd have left. It'll be like blinking."

"Did you just say something about blinking?" the Doctor with the bowtie asked frantically, widening his eyes as he quickly glanced around the room, pivoting childishly on his heels. "Where are they?"

The other Doctor turned the corners of his lips up in amusement. "They're not here. Just take her to the TARDIS, Eleven."

"Fine. Come along, miss."

Without warning, he grabbed my hand and pulled me outside the classroom. I didn't even have time to blush.

"Where do you think you're going?" my teacher yelled. He started towards me, but the Doctor rewriting the white board stepped in his way, his hands folded behind his back.

"Oh no, you're not going anywhere. You see this?" He pointed to the new formulas he very neatly wrote. "These are the proper formulas, you got it? Not that nonsense that you're confusing these poor children with. Learn these, and then teach it." He placed the dry erase marker back on the ledge. "Good-bye."

The other Doctor ushered Eleven and me out of the room, closing the door behind him. I took one last look at my classroom before I faced forward, stopping dead in my tracks as the TARDIS stood before me in all her glory.

The TARDIS was taller than I had anticipated; I had to crane my head just to read "Police Box" near the top of the space ship. I couldn't see the light that was on top of the box from where I was standing, but it was bright enough that I could see its light bouncing off of the hallway's ceiling. The TARDIS appeared to be made out of authentic wood, and the sign that hung on its right door was old and rustic. The police box was bluer than the ocean.

Eleven produced a key from his pocket and opened the door to the TARDIS, swinging it inward. My mouth quirked into a grin. "You're supposed to pull to open it."

"What?" both of the Doctors said at the same time.

"Read the sign. 'Pull to open.'" I stepped around Eleven and entered the TARDIS, slowly releasing my breath as I took in the console room. I knew it was bigger on the inside, but I wasn't ready for the scale of it. I could hardly see the ceiling that stretched upwards. I slowly moved around as the two Doctors locked the TARDIS, deep in conversation with – er – himself.

"It does say that, Ten."

"I've always pushed it though. I have never pulled it."

"Should we – I – we – you know, pull it from now on?"

"I don't know – it's not like she cares, I believe."

"On the contrary," I chimed in, "she does." When they gave me a questioning look, I suppressed a laugh. "Spoilers."

The Doctors blinked at me. "River?" they asked incredulously.

I shook my head and grinned as I walked up the steps that led to the control panel of the TARDIS itself. The deeper I went into the room, the more impressive the TARDIS was. The console room itself was perhaps a hundred feet across. The ceiling lights shone brightly, illuminating enough light for me to see my way, despite the height of the ceiling. There were majestic stairs that spiraled out of the console station. I looked underneath my feet to see various wires and mechanical parts through the glass floor. A small hammock was attached to the glass floor that swung just above the TARDIS' engine. The console itself was the most complicated piece in the console room. It was hexagonal, with a few wired jutting out of its face. There were knobs and levers that looked all too complicated, as well as screens that buzzed gray and a phone with its cords neatly piled on top of it. The TARDIS' machine made up the center of the console, composed of complicated pumps with a liquid substance suspended in its transparent tubes.

"So, what do you think?" Eleven asked, thrusting out his arms and spinning around. "New design with additional features."

I said nothing as I absorbed it all – the Doctors, the TARDIS, the reality of it. I could see, smell, touch, and hear everything – I pinched myself several times to make sure that I wasn't dreaming. I looked at them to see them return my stare. They casually leaned on the banister, with both of their arms across their chest. I couldn't help but be reminded of how the Ninth Doctor held himself, in the exact same way that these two held themselves.

"But how?" I asked. "How is this all possible? You two were in a television show, and – and you're David Tennant," I said, pointing to Ten, "and you're Matt Smith," I finished, pointing to Eleven.

They both laughed and shook their head. It was Ten who spoke first. "That show called Doctor Who is actually a documentary of my – our – lives. Those names you mentioned are our aliases."

"Because you see," continued Eleven, "the name of 'John Smith' gets a little too generic and boring, don't you think?"

Ten casted Eleven a dubious look. "And you stuck with 'Smith' as your last name. Clever."

"Oh yeah? You and your 'Tennant' nonsense -"

"Oi, what's wrong with that? It's easier to pronounce, and it's better than using our actual name. It's twenty-eight letters long."

"Don't you think I know how to spell our own name?"

Ten pushed himself off of the banister to better face Eleven. "Hey, you watch your tone with me, you young thing."

"What? I'm the Eleventh reincarnation, mind you. I'm older than you."

"HEY!" I said loudly. "You need to explain what's going on here. All of this," I said, waving my arms, "was in a show. You're telling me it's an actual documentary of your lives'?"

"Exact-a-mundo," they said together. Ten continued, "There are a lot of alternate universes. Maybe in another one, all of this is nothing but a show. But in this universe, we are as real as the hair on your head."

A whirl of images flashed through my mind. "So – So the Weeping Angels, the Vashta Neradas, the Daleks, the Silence – they're all real?"

"Well – Yes, I suppose they are," Ten replied.

"You might not see them much because, as you know, everything happens in London and the government is very good at hiding things from the public," Eleven added on.

"Or Mycroft Holmes," Ten coughed.

I placed a hand on the console for support. "I think I'm going to throw up."

"Now look what you've done," Ten said to Eleven. "You've made her sick."

"We haven't even moved yet! And if you check your psychic paper, she was going to die in that class, so I'd rather have her be sick than die -"

"Is that how you found me?" I asked, trying to keep down my stomach. "Psychic paper?"

Ten approached me and held out a leather case. On the paper, in my own messy handwriting, were written the words, "Save me. I can't stand this."

"It actually worked," I said weakly. "But why would you think I was dying?"

"That's what 'saving' is, isn't it?" Eleven asked. "If you need saving, you're in some life threatening danger. And here you are!"

Ten hid away his psychic paper and stepped up to the TARDIS' controls. He pressed a button and pushed against a pump, and the TARDIS gave a shudder before the familiar sound filled the room. Eleven rushed over to help him as I maneuvered myself to a seat, placing my head between my knees. Without looking up, I pointed in their general direction and said, "Explain this, then. If you're the Tenth reincarnation, and you're the Eleventh, then how are you two existing at the same time?"

"Not only is this world full of universes," panted Ten as he struggled to heave a lever into a perpendicular position, "but it's full of paradoxes. I had this situation happen to a past life of mine, actually, where I met my Fifth reincarnation."

"What the old me is trying to say is that," Eleven said as Ten took a staggering step back when the lever won, "we parked our TARDIS at the exact same point in space and time, and, since the TARDIS I use is the same one he uses, it recognizes the other TARDIS' matrix as its own, and it thought that a part of itself was missing. To compensate for it, the binary codes on the so called 'missing parts' on the TARDISes responded to the matrix and, ta-da! Your result is one TARDIS with two Doctors from different times in the same place in space and time."

"I'm glad I kept my intellect when I regenerate," Ten remarked as he heaved another leaver.

"I think I understand now," I said slowly, sitting upright. "You two are existing at the same time from a paradox, by parking the TARDIS at the right spot in time, then your TARDISes merged and became one. But where did you two go to end up in the same place in time?"

The Doctors exchanged sheepish glances at each other. They remained unresponsive, suddenly engrossed in driving the TARDIS.

When they didn't say anything for a few minutes, I stood up and placed a hand over an alarmingly red button. The two Doctors cried out in surprise and started towards me.

"No, don't! You don't know what that does!"

"Just take a step back – we'll answer anything you want!"

"I know exactly what this is," I said, placing slight pressure on the button. The Doctors went absolutely mad.

"ALRIGHT, JUST TELL US WHAT YOU WANT!"

"I DON'T WANT TO EXPLODE YET!"

I snorted and took my seat again, watching the Doctors as they breathed heavily, eyeing the button as though it was a grenade. I knew it was just the emergency brake, but if I activated it, the TARDIS might not start back up again unless it had help of another TARDIS. And we all knew that there was only one TARDIS left in the universe.

"So," I said, crossing my legs. "Where were you two when you two met with each other?"

Ten mumbled something under his breath, but I couldn't catch anything except "Sherlock" and "good riddance."

"Blimey, I like you!" said Eleven excitedly, doing his characteristic clenching and unclenching of his hands. "So humaney-wumaney. I like that! Anyway," he said, moving on to answering my question, "we ended up in New York together. Manhattan, more specifically."

I blinked at them. "What were you doing in Manhattan?"

"We were, uh…Well, we had to escort a certain someone back to his home," Ten explained. "He's in the back right now, locked up and angry. His own brother would have brought him back home, but he had to go see a…What was her name?"

Eleven placed a slight finger on his massive chin in thought. "I believe her name was – oh! It was Jane Foster."

I jumped to my feet. "You don't mean – Loki?"

"As a matter of fact, we're on our way to Asgard right now." Ten double checked the coordinates. "Yes. Asgard. Actually, Eleven, could you bring him out? I assume he's calmed down by now."

Eleven hurried off, mumbling a small greeting to a man that he passed on his way out.

"No," I breathed. "This isn't possible."

"That man stopped screaming," Sherlock said in a bored tone. His eyes quickly traveled down my body and rested on my face, his gaze unreadable.

"What are you doing here?" I asked in shock. He looked exactly like the Sherlock I was familiar with – a dark, tight purple polo that hung snug to his body, a mop of curly brown hair, piercing green eyes, high, sharp cheekbones, and an indignant look casted upon his face. His hands were on his hips, his fingers nearly touching each other from his slightness. "You're supposed to be in London -"

"And what are you doing here?" He walked swiftly towards me. Here it comes, I said. He's going to deduce me. Oh dear. "You shouldn't be here. You're a high school student, an upperclassman – probably a senior, if I'm not mistaken, and I hardly am – a hard worker and good student. I see the pencil smudges on your sleeves and shirt where you wipe your hands, which means that you work with the pencil a lot, because your schedule's loaded is with courses in science and mathematics; that isn't something you often see with a mediocre student. Based on my previous observations, you seem like an unlikely candidate to skip class, then. Your bags under your eyes are atrocious – late nights, I'm sure – and your cheeks are sallow, probably because you're anorexic, but more likely because you skip meals to study instead. So, why are you, a good, hardworking student, here on this machine, where you're missing your lessons?"

"Stop showing off, Sherlock," Ten lightly said, entirely focused on the console instead.

"How are you here then, Sherlock?" I asked. "Another alternate universe, or what?"

"Loki and I come from the same Earth. Not your Earth, obviously, but an alternate one. Weren't you listening to what the Doctor was saying?"

I glared at him, finally understanding why Lestrade found him so annoying sometimes.

"Here he is!" announced a voice. Eleven walked happily towards us with Loki trailer behind him, his mouth piece still enveloping his face. He glanced around in a nonchalant manner, but he showed no intentions to escape. The TARDIS really was a police box – if not the most secure prison in the universe.

"Sit him here," Ten ordered. I scooted over to make room for him, in absolute awe. It was apparent that he was fresh from battle – he had a small cut above him eye and his otherwise flawless armor was ripped in some parts. Thick, golden metal bands crisscrossed his chest, and he wore a tight leather pants that accentuated his lean frame. He sat on his rumpled green cape as he exchanged glances with me.

"Hold his arm, please," Eleven said kindly. I place a hand on his forearm and marveled at the amount of sinewy muscle that was corded underneath his armor. The Doctor bustled around the consul until he produced a large clamp that looked as though it was the perfect size for Loki's waist. He locked the clamp around Loki's narrow waist, then took the mouth piece off. Loki pursed his lips and tried to stand up abruptly, but he sat back down, as if by force.

"Vortex movement inhibitor," Eleven said happily. "Since he travels between dimensions through space and time, he has these teeny particles that latch onto him, which the inhibitor responds to. This should hold him. Don't try any tricks, mister."

"I was promised a drink, yet I did not receive any," he said smoothly. "And you can stop goggling at me," he said, directing his attention to me. "Filthy human."

"You're just angry that your god of a brother beat you and your army," Sherlock piped up, narrowing his eyes. "By the looks of it, he got you very much."

"Sherlock, weren't you there when Loki arrived to your Earth?"

"No – why would I be? I was in the TARDIS for quite some time. But, that doesn't mean that I'm oblivious to what goes on back at home."

"Then how could you know -"

"BLIMEY, DON'T ASK HIM -" shouted Ten.

"HE'S JUST GOING TO GO OFF AGAIN -" cried Eleven.

" – my knowledge of Norse mythology is supple enough that I can identify Loki when I see him. Seeing as he has cuts here, here, and here," Sherlock said quickly, indicating on his own face to where Loki's cuts corresponded, "I knew his brother – and only his brother – could have inflicted damage, because gods don't bleed unless their own kind attacked them. The bits of debris in his hair appear to be made of clay, asphalt, and concrete – it's hard to tell from this distance – and there are only a few large cities in the world that would be absolute perfect for a large scale invasion, Manhattan, for instance. But no, that's not it." Sherlock moved closer to Loki, closely inspecting his face. I could see Ten and Eleven roll their eyes in the background. "There's something else after you," Sherlock said softly after a pause. "You jumped off the Bifrost bridge during your first nasty encounter with Thor, indicating that you would rather die than face penance for your crimes back in Asgard. But this time – this time – you willingly come, as though you're afraid of other creatures out there in the wide, wide universe, that would punish you in a harsher manner than the All-father, Odin." Sherlock took a step back, a look of satisfaction on your face. "Since gods are immortal, you really can't 'die,' can you? If you're going back to Asgard, a safe haven, then there are other beings chasing after you."

No one said anything. Loki appeared even speechless.

"Oh, don't be like that," Sherlock said, waving us off. "You know I'm right."

"Why did I even pick him up?" muttered Ten. "Oi, I tell you, the first time he climbed on the TARDIS, we got into such an argument. He told me that time was a linear progression, even though he knew that I could travel between dimensions and through time. I told him that time is like a huge bowl of wibbly-wobbly, er, timey-wimey stuff, but he still didn't believe me. And imagine that! Arguing about the merits of time with a Time Lord! I nearly threw him out!" He whipped out his screwdriver and pointed it at everyone. "And I don't ever throw anybody out. Not even Mickey." He used his screwdriver on a blinking button, which exploded in yellow sparks.

"I apologize. I just get grumpy when people disagree with me," Eleven said politely, taking out his screwdriver and working it on the button that Ten destroyed. "But it's true. He was being a nuisance."

Sherlock smirked.

I scooted over my seat and patted it. "Would you like to sit, Sherlock?"

"What? No, no thank you. I don't like sitting. Sitting's boring. I'd much rather walk. More blood goes to my head when I walk, which expedites my thinking process. No, no to sitting for me." He walked around the console room and took out his cell phone, checked it, and pocketed it again. He had the smallest frown on his face.

"What is that contraption?" asked Loki.

I stared at him. "You see all of this," – I motioned to the TARDIS – "and you ask what a cell phone is?"

Loki shrugged. "Time Lords and their sciences are familiar on Asgard. That, however, is very new to me."

"What's wrong, then?" Ten asked Sherlock. "You're usually chatting away."

"John – John hasn't texted me."

"Well of course. He thinks you're dead, remember? If I remember properly, you jumped off a building," I remarked.

"And it has to stay that way." There was a sort of sadness in his voice. "I'm in the TARDIS, hiding from John."

"So that's why you're here." Ten seemed genuinely surprised.

I returned my attention to Loki, who was intently studying his clamp around his very narrow waist. His resemblance to Tom Hiddleston was astonishing – Loki looked like the splitting image of the actor who played him in The Avengers. They both had the same gray-green eyes, the same straight nose, and the raspy, deep voice. Loki appeared to evenbe Tom's dangerous height of six foot two.

When Loki caught me looking at him, I quickly moved my eyes to Sherlock, assessing his uncanny resemblance to the actor in Sherlock. It was as though Benedict Cumberbatch was walking around right in front of me, in the flesh. The characteristic curl to his hair, the slightness of his body, and the deep treble of his voice. The only things that were missing where his black coat and blue scarf.

"Are you two aware," I said, addressing Loki and Sherlock after a silence, "that you have lookalikes back on my Earth?"

"Are you suggesting that I, a being form Asgard, look like a dull human?"

"I wouldn't be surprised. In the whole entire world – on my world – there are around six to seven people that look alike. And since there are multiple universes, it would not shock me to discover that there would be a person that looks just like me."

"But I am of Asgard. There is no one else like me."

I couldn't help it. "There are always men like you." I took out my phone and scrolled through my many saved pictures of Tom Hiddleston. Pulling one up, I showed it to Loki. "Here. This is Tom Hiddleston. He looks just like you. And here," I continued, showing Sherlock a picture of Benedict Cumberbatch, "is you. Well, the actor that looks like you."

"Well, when you said 'lookalike,' I assumed that the man actually looked like me," Sherlock said after studying the picture. "This has no resemblance to me. He has rudimentary blond hair while mine is obviously brown. And, I'm much leaner than he is."

"Fine." I looked at Loki in annoyance. "Do you have any complaints about Tom Hiddleston?"

He shook his head in an amused manner. "On the contrary, I would have to agree with you, human. He does share some features of mine. I suppose the universe is quite big, is it not?"

Ten and Eleven burst out in laughter. "Been living under a rock, have you?" Eleven asked with a crooked grin.

"I'm afraid I do not understand. How does one live under a rock? I am far too large to live under a rock and besides, the force of the rock would be sure to crush me. I did, however, live on a barren moon. Is that what you mean by a 'rock?'"

"What is it like, not being me or the Doctor?" Sherlock asked in a daze. "It must be so boring. I pity you."

"I will not take your pity and remorse, human," Loki spat. "I may be a prisoner, but I am the All-father's son, and I am to be respected!"

"As long as you're in my TARDIS, we can treat you however we want," Ten said distractedly, his gaze held upon the screen that flashed many numbers, what looked like coordinates.

"Actually, we're in my TARDIS. The inside is orange. I like orange."

"We're about to cross the Time Ward," Ten announced, ignoring his older self. "We might hit a bit of a -"

The TARDIS rumbled and I lurched forward, barely missing the console as I hit the ground, the wind knocked out of my lungs. Sherlock stumbles and grabbed hold of the railing, glaring at the Doctors. The Doctors braced the controls with a bored expression on their face. This must have been a regular occurrence.

As the TARDIS stabilized, I climbed back onto my chair. Loki watched me pleasantly; it looked like he didn't move even an inch. He pointed to his clamp and grinned.

"You two really need to work on your flight skills," I said grumpily.

"We need six people to drive this properly," Eleven whined.

"And you have plenty of people – me, Sherlock, Loki, and you two. That's better than just both of you driving the TARDIS."

"I think I'd rather crash than to have the god of mischief touch the controls," Sherlock said. "Besides, I have much rather important things to attend to that to fly this craft."

"Like what?" I asked exasperatedly.

"Well, for one, I've got to figure out a way tell John that I'm still alive. This may be a bit of an inconvenience."

The familiar sound of the TARDIS' parking breaks filled the atmosphere once again. Both of the Doctors pulled one last lever and the TARDIS landed neatly, and they proceeded to give each other high-five's and "Allons-y's" and "Geronimo's." Sherlock strode over and retrieved Loki's mouth piece from somewhere underneath the console. He swiftly strapped the mouth piece back on Loki's face and removed the clamp, carelessly throwing it to the side. Loki looked positively miserable.

"Welcome," Eleven said at the door," to Asgard."

All five of us stepped out into what seemed like a cloud. My stomach erupted into butterflies as I saw what was in front of me.

The path that broke out from the cloud was made of a transparent gold, with fist sized diamonds embedded in intervals on the path's edge. Turrets and columns rose around us, and with a quick look, I realized that we were above a city. My eyes traveled up the path and they rested upon Odin's castle, which pierced the skies with towers that melted beyond the clouds. There was a faint rainbow that ran behind the castle, followed by a six-legged creature that rode the rainbow. I saw a man stride along the path towards us; he was still in the distance, but by the way he held himself, I knew that he demanded authority. Odin.

"Here comes Daddy-o!" Eleven said happily, dragging Loki along with him to meet Odin. Sherlock sighed softly and followed the Doctor, his long legs carrying him quickly to them. With a quick hop, Ten grabbed my hand and propelled us forward. This time, I did blush.

In the distance, Odin raised his arms and shouted a welcome, which the Doctors returned ecstatically. Loki tried to pull away from Eleven, but Eleven's iron grip held him steady. Loki turned around and made eye contact with me, pleading. I shook my head.

"If you actually were Tom Hiddleston, it would be a different story."

I heard Sherlock let out a chuckle.

Before long, we met with Odin and he gave the Doctors a massive embrace while Loki tried to break away. Odin snapped his fingers, and an electric circle exploded from his hand, grew in size, and fitted itself around Loki. His arms were bound to his sides. The circle duplicated itself, and latched onto both of Loki's ankles. Loki hung his head in defeat and stared mutinously at his father.

"Doctor!" Odin boomed. "How long it has been!"

"You recognize both of us?"

"Of course! My all-seeing eye sees the First – and this could not be more of a joyous occasion, as I have not one but two Doctors!" Odin pushed himself away from the Doctors and shook Sherlock's hand, which Sherlock took hesitantly. "Nice to meet you, human!"

Sherlock gave a small bow. "I say the same to you, King Odin. Ready of the Odin's sleep, I assume?"

"How did you acquire that information?"

"Well -"

"Oh, stop it!" the Doctors exclaimed in unity.

Odin gave a deep laugh. "And who might you be?" he asked me.

"I'm – er – I'm the Doctor's companion – at least I think I am – one of the companions, at least, Odin, sir," I stammered.

He took my hand and warmly shook it. "I must that you for delivering my impossible son to my hands." He looked over to Loki, who brooded under his eyebrows. "And yes, Loki. I am your father. You cannot tell me otherwise."

"Telepathic communication! Neat!" Ten was absolutely giddy.

"I would invite everyone for a bountiful feast and celebration to commensurate my Odin's sleep," Odin addressed, "but we must stand Loki for trial, and that may take quite some time. I apologize for my lack of hospitality, but the Doctor knows that he and his friends are welcomed in Asgard at any time they wish, and that all of you are and always will be my honorable guests."

"Ah. Thank you, Odin!" Eleven said. He gave a small salute. "Until next time, old friend."

"Alas, until next time, my dear Doctor. Good-bye, human! Take care, my dear," he finished, giving me a small bow. I awkwardly bowed back. "Come along, Loki. Judgment will be passed upon you," he said joyfully. How appropriate, I thought bleakly.

With our last farewells, the Doctors ushered us back into the TARDIS. Sherlock was the last to enter, taking one last glance at Asgard, muttering under his breath. I took his arm and pulled him before Ten pulled the doors of the TARDIS to a close.

Eleven was already at work at the console. "Next stop?"

"I think we should bring Sherlock back home," I suggested as Sherlock knitted his eyebrows together. "He needs to go talk to someone."

"I do not, actually. My plan is to lie low before I talk to John again…" he faltered.

Ten hopped up against the console and pushed a string of buttons. Eleven shouted in surprise and the TARDIS lurched forward again. Sherlock and I fell away from each other, and all four of us were on the floor as the TARDIS stabilized.

"I understand it's hard to drive the TARDIS, Doctor, but you're the worst I've ever been."

"I was just setting the coordinates, and it's hard to cross the Time Ward between alternate universes. You can hardly blame me!"

"We're not even crossing the Ward yet, Ten!"

"Oh, you know what I'm getting at!"

Eleven, annoyed, smacked Ten upside the head, and before too long, they were rolling across the floor, trying to pin each other down, shouting incomprehensible words at each other.

"Gallifreyan, I presume," Sherlock noted.

"But the TARDIS is supposed to be able to translate anything for us."

"Gallifreyan is a too ancient of a language. Let's just be grateful that we can't understand their groveling."

I stepped forward, putting my foot on them to prevent them from rolling any more. "While you two young gentlemen are wrestling each other, please tell me, who's driving the TARDIS?"

The Doctors looked at each other and hurriedly stood up, frantically pressing at the controls to make up for lost time.

"In three, two, one…"

We began to materialize once again, arriving to what I assumed was the earth Sherlock was from. The doors opened by themselves this time, to a sight familiar to me. The sky was gray and there was a light drizzle. Even still, the streets were filled with people hustling and bustling about, trying to catch their train or bus. London, England.

"Fitting," Sherlock observed.

I stepped out of the TARDIS and looked around. A looming building towered over me. The words "St. Bartholomew's Hospital" was carved on the side. "You're joking."

"What? It's funny, isn't it? It's funny!"

"Eleven, no."

"What a lot of people would give to be me right now," I said under my breath.

Sherlock stepped past me into the rain. He squinted into the sky, at Big Ben. "It's half past four. Baker Street is a ways away and," – He glanced around – "it's rush hour. I won't be able to find a cabbie, which means I'll have to walk." He strode back into the TARDIS and fetched his black coat and blue scarf from the coat rack. Sherlock expertly tied his scarf around his long neck. Shrugging on his coat, he stepped back out again. "I better hurry if I'm to make it in time for supper. I pray John won't be too angry with me." He turned to look at us one more time. A sort of silent exchange passed between himself and the Doctors. He then pierced my gaze, and gave me a respectful nod, the corners of his mouth quirking into the smallest smile. Without another word, he flipped his collar up and disappeared into the streets of London.

I closed the doors of the TARDIS, feeling bittersweet as I watched one of the men that I had the most respect for leave my journey. With my forehead rested on the doors, I was expecting the sound of the TARDIS' parking breaks to fill my ears, but it was silent in there.

"What is it?" I asked, not facing the Doctors.

"It's time to see you off too."

I turned around to see Ten give me a small, sad smile. Eleven refused to catch my eye and said nothing. Instead, he launched us off into space once again.

"I don't want to leave, though," I said, feeling my voice begin to thicken. "This is amazing."

"I know," Ten said, "but it's a burden to bear. All of time and space, on your shoulders. It's too much. I'm nine hundred and fifteen, the last of the Time Lords. Time and space is no one's responsibility except to the children of Gallifrey."

I stumbled to my seat and closed my eyes, trying to sense the movement of the TARDIS. Nothing. It was as though everything was still. You need to make the most out of your time left, I thought.

Standing up, I walked over to the console and started looking at all of the controls. "I think we have time to spare since we still have to cross the Time Ward back to my universe." I let my hand lightly trail along the buttons and levers, careful not to touch anything. "Tell me what everything does."

The Doctors exchanged smiles and they began to fill me with their knowledge. Eleven told me the mechanics of the TARDIS' console. "This button makes the TARDIS invisible once we land, but sometimes it goes faulty – these two here, if you press them both at the same time, can make us travel ten times faster, but right after we have to find the Rift and charge the TARDIS back up again – the yellow button here's for mustard and the red one next to it is for the ketchup – really handy when I'm craving a sausage – I'm not sure what this does, but I don't want to find out, really – this hole here, this is where I can create a new sonic screwdriver, because Odin knows how many of those I break -"

Every time Eleven paused, Ten would pick right back up and tell me about all of the different worlds that existed and all of the different civilizations that lived on those worlds. "First off, there are these Daleks – I'm sure you've heard of them, they're at war with us right now, the Time War – and they're nasty beings really, and all they care for is destruction and death. But they're really nothing compared to the Weeping Angels – they're frightening as can be – and they're the master assassins of the universe – in all of the universes, I think – because they feed off of your potential energy when they zap you back in time. They're also quite hideous too. Manhattan's filled with them – oh, speaking of Manhattan you've got to watch out for the Daleks there too, because they once made this humaney-wumaney sort of Dalek creature. There are actually a lot of warrior races in the universe, including the Sontarans and the Cybermen – the Cybermen always comes back to Earth, no matter how many times I've tried to get rid of them…Oh, and don't forget to count your shadows too! – they could eat you up and take your clothes and walk around and eat other people – or animals up – quite nasty, nasty."

They continued to tell their stories. As they talked, I saw their faces light up during the good, but during the bad, I could see that it hurt them to the depths of their soul. The more I looked into their eyes, the more I understood how old and knowledgeable they really were – Ten recounting his tales of being the victim of Time, meeting Rose Tyler, giving up Donna Noble, and then Eleven, even when he seemed to be more childish than Ten, had gone through more pain than his younger self, losing Amy Pond and Rory Williams all in the same day, but he still looked at the future with a bright prospect that I knew only a few individuals had the capability to do after all the loss and hurt that they had gone through.

Before long, the sound of the TARDIS' parking brakes filled the air once again. We all looked up to see its engine slow and rumble to a stop.

"Here we are, then," Ten said quietly, unmoving. "We're back on your Earth."

None of us moved for the longest time. Eleven looked at me with the saddest eyes I have ever seen and ever would see.

"This is my stop." I forced myself away from the console and descended the steps. My hand rested on the TARDIS' door. I pushed it open. The door to my classroom stood before me.

I turned around to look at the TARDIS' console room one last time. Tears welled up in my eyes as I realized that this was the last time that I would ever be on a journey as amazing as this one. The Doctors approached me.

"You take care," Ten said, enveloping me in a massive hug. "You've been wonderful."

"Don't forget me." My voice was thick.

"Absolutely not." Eleven stepped up and crushed the air out of me, and I welcomed it. Tears spilled from my eyes and dotted his shirt, leaving dark spots on his shoulder. "You were fantastic." He kissed the top of my forehead.

I took a step back and wiped my eyes to see my Doctors one last time. Ten and Eleven each grabbed one of my hands and brought it up to their lips for a chaste kiss. I smiled, and they mirrored me.

"Call us if you need anything," Eleven said as he gave me a smile that touched my soul.

"We'll look out for you." Ten waved his psychic paper in the air.

I gave a small nod. "My Doctors."

"Our companion."

I took a step back and closed the doors of the TARDIS. The last thing I saw were the sad, smiling eyes of my Doctors.

The heart-aching sound echoed from the TARDIS, and before too long, it vanished into thin air. That would be the last I hear of that sound for a long time.

I opened the door to my classroom and walked in to see my teacher settle back down in his seat, a hand rubbing his forehead. It was as though nothing had changed. " That was bizarre. What just happened?" He fixed his attention to me. "Can you explain what happened?"

I looked around my classmates to see the same confused expression on their faces. "How long was I gone?"

"Not even a minute."

I gave a small chuckle. "Oh, Doctor."

"What happened?" one of my friends asked me.

I settled back down in my seat and began to copy the Doctor's statistics formulas into my notebook. "Let's see: I met Sherlock Holmes, had a chat with the god of mischief, traveled to Asgard, learned about the universe and how to drive a police box, and I said goodbye to three of the most amazing men I have ever met and will ever meet."

She looked at me in awe. "How did it feel?"

"Terrifying and exhilarating." I smiled. "And I would do it all over again."