Back in Shakespeare's room at the tavern, the writer was leaning over a bucket and splashing cold water into his face, clearly trying to get through their earlier meeting with the carrionite. Molly watched as the Doctor paced, something she was recognizing to be a common occurrence with him, and explained, "The Carrionites disappeared way back at the dawn of the universe. Nobody was sure if they were real or legend."
Shakespeare straightened and turned to face the Time Lord. "Well, I'm going for real," he remarked with a slight edge to his tone as he began patting his face dry with a towel.
"Alright," Molly said, trying to keep things logical in her head, "Now we know what they are, but what are they after? They use words, so it is connected to the play, but how? What's it all for?"
"A new empire on Earth," the Doctor replied grimly. "A world of bones and blood and witchcraft."
"But how?" Molly prompted.
"Well, it's his play," the Doctor said wryly, turning to look at Shakespeare. He'd stopped pacing and was leaning against one of the tables.
"I told you, I've done nothing," Shakespeare insisted.
Molly had been running through the previous night's events in her head when something occurred to her. "Wait. What were you doing last night when Dolly came in?"
Shakespeare shrugged. "Finishing the play." Molly frowned. The play. It always came back to the play.
The Doctor's brow furrowed as though something had occurred to him. Turning towards the writer he asked, "What happens on the last page?"
"The boys get the girls. They have a bit of a dance. It's all as funny and thought provoking as usual..." He suddenly trailed off, realization dawning on his face. "...except those last few lines. Funny thing is... I don't actually remember writing them."
"That's it!" The Doctor pushed off his table, too excited to stay still. "They used you. They gave you the final words. Like a spell, like a code. 'Love's Labours Won' — it's a weapon! The right combination of words, spoken at the right place with the shape of the Globe as an energy converter! You were right, Molly, the play's the thing!" He turned and started out the room, throwing a quick "And yes, you can have that," over his shoulder.
The Time Lord soon returned with a map of London and laid it out on Shakespeare's table. They all looked over it, carefully scanning, until the Doctor apparently found what he was looking for. "All Hallows Street." He pointed to the small line on the map. "There it is. Molly, we'll track them down. Will, you get to the Globe. Whatever you do, stop that play!"
"I'll do it," the writer declared confidently. He reached out and shook the Doctor's hand, admiration evident in his tone. "All these years I've been the cleverest man around. Next to you, I know nothing. It's marvelous. Good luck, Doctor."
The Doctor smiled. "Good luck, Shakespeare." He headed for the door, Molly following as he declared, "Once more unto the breach!"
Behind them, they could hear Shakespeare musing, "I like that. Wait a minute... that's one of mine."
The Doctor turned back to face the author for a moment. "Oh, just shift!" he urged. Then he and Molly started off again, determined to find the witchs' house.
SCENEBREAK
Molly kept pace with the Doctor as they hurried through the busy streets, finally reaching their destination. "All Hallows Street," the Doctor said as he scanned the area, "but which house?"
Molly had been thinking about something for a while. "Doctor, I was wondering... You're saying the carrionites want to destroy the human race, but this is 1599, and we've already seen that the human race is still around in 2012. So does that mean it's already determined that we stop them today?"
The Doctor rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed the question had come in the middle of their search. "Oh, how to explain the mechanics of the infinite temporal flux?" He suddenly snapped his fingers. "I know! 'Back to the Future'! It's like 'Back to the Future!'"
"The movie?"
The Time Lord rolled his eyes. "No, the novelisation. Yes, the film! Marty McFly goes back and changes history."
Molly hadn't seen the movie in years, but she remembered enough to understood what he meant. "So the future can be changed?" she realized.
"Yes." The Doctor turned to look at her, urgency mixed with concern. "Time is in constant flux; almost anything can be rewritten. Including you. Your existence and that of the entire future of the human race. It ends right now in 1599 if we don't stop it." He turned back to his search of the many houses on the street. "But which house?" he asked with frustration.
Without warning, the door to one of the houses slowly swung open. The Doctor stared at it in surprise for a few moments. "Ah, make that witch house," he quipped, eyebrows going up in surprise.
SCENEBREAK
Inside the house, a familiar young, red-headed woman stood, watching them enter with a knowing smirk. Molly recognized her as one of the maids from the tavern, Lilith if she remembered correctly. Before she had been fairly non-descript, but now she watched them without a hint of apprehension, eyes cold and cruel.
"I take it we're expected," the Doctor remarked lightly. Molly noticed that while he seemed as cordial and goofy as ever, the Time Lord had tensed noticeably, his gaze calculating as it darted around the room. He seemed more dangerous now that she'd seen him before, now that they were facing the one behind Peter's death.
"Oh, I think Death has been waiting for you a very long time," Lilith told him.
Molly wondered if the Doctor planned to name her again; she didn't do it herself because she wasn't certain it was the right thing to do at the time. She trusted the Doctor to have a plan, and when she was sure what it was she would follow it to the letter.
The Doctor folded his hands behind his back, bouncing forward on the balls of his feet. "Well, nice set-up you got here," he quipped, looking around the dusty old house with interest. A cauldron sat in the center of the room, with various relics and talismans scattered around. "If a bit cliché," he added as an afterthought.
"A bit like yourself," the carrionite observed smoothly. "The wise old man, swooping in to beat the wicked old witch." She chuckled lightly, somehow sounding as cruel as her fellow's cackle. "You think just because you know us that you can beat us? Naming only works once, Doctor. It cannot kill us; the same cannot be said of you and your companion."
She suddenly whirled to face Molly. "For instance, to put her in an endless stupor, I name this woman Molly Hooper."
Molly suddenly felt her limbs go weak. The pathologist caught a quick glance of the fear on Doctor's face, and felt a thrill of her own fear, before her legs gave out. She slumped gracelessly to the floor as a black wave crashed over her vision.
Voices flitted in and out of her subconscious. The Doctor, panicked. "What did you do to her?!" The carrionite: "Only sleeping, alas..."
"...no name..."
"...carries down the distant Rose..."
"...that name keeps me fighting!"
"...purged as pestilence..."
"...you'll have to get past me..."
Molly groaned as she returned to consciousness. She felt groggy and sort of heavy, like her entire body was being weighed down, but she had strength enough to lift her head. She could see the carrionite floating in a spot past the window, the Doctor watching her with frustration. The creature appeared to be holding some sort of doll, like one of those voodoo dolls used to control people. In her other hand she held a needle, which set off several warning bells in Molly's head, but at the moment there was nothing she could do.
The Doctor was doing his usual trick of trying to babble out explanations to buy time. "Now, you might call that magic... I'd call that a DNA replication module."
Lilith raised an eyebrow. "What use is your science now?" she asked smugly. She stabbed the doll in the heart, eyes flashing cruelly. The Doctor let out a cry of agony, hand clutching at his chest, before collapsing on the ground.
The carrionite let out a triumphant cackle before flying away, the window slamming shut behind her. As the life returned to Molly's limbs, she scrambled to get to the Doctor's side, heart pounding in fear. He was just lying there, motionless, but she didn't think he was dead. Lilith had stopped the Doctor's heart... wait, heart? "Hold up, two hearts," she remembered aloud.
A small smirk twitched at the Doctor's lips. "You're making a habit of this," he joked lightly. He got quickly to his feet, but with a cry of pain he fell back to his knees, helped by Molly, who supported him by his arm. "I've only got one heart working," he gasped out, face screwed up in pain. He turned briefly to Molly, almost accusing as he asked, "How do you people cope?" Without waiting for an answer, he groaned, "I've got to get the other one started. Hit me! Hit me on the chest!"
The pathologist obliged hesitantly, prying another cry of pain from the Time Lord. "Other side!" he complained. With a few more instructions (On the back! On the back! Left a bit!) she finally got the right spot. The Doctor bounced back to his feet with a "Ba-da-boom-ba!" giving Molly a grin. "Well, what are you standing there for? Come one! The Globe!"
The two left the witches' house behind, hurrying back towards the famed theater.
SCENEBREAK
They finally reached the Globe again, after a bit of confused navigation. Dark clouds were gathering over the theater, with strange red lightning crashing overhead. People were running in terror from the sight, all except the old doom-claiming priest from earlier, who was shrieking, "I told thee so!" with a disproportionate amount of glee.
The Doctor and Molly ignored him, staring instead at the theater. The main doors were clearly locked, as no one seemed to be trying to get out that way, so how to get in?
The Time Lord soon found the answer. "Stage door!" he called out to Molly as they started to push past the fleeing crowd.
When they finally managed to get in through the backstage doors, they found Shakespeare leaning back in a chair, rubbing the back of his head. The Doctor glared at him in annoyance. "Stop the play! I think that was it. Yeah, I said, 'Stop the play!'"
"I hit my head," the writer said lamely.
"Yeah, don't rub it, you'll go bald," the Doctor snarked. Screams sounded from out front, causing him to quip, "I think that's my cue!" before running out on stage. Molly and Shakespeare followed, halting behind him as they stared in horror at the scene around them. A swarm of carrionite was circling above the stage, the steady roar of thunder and wind following them. Molly could hardly hear herself think over the noise. People were pointing up at the aliens in horror, trying to push past the doors to escape, but in vain. The carrionites were rising up through a dark hole, flying above the building and out into the night. Molly knew that if they didn't do something soon, it would all be over.
The Doctor pulled Shakespeare up to the front of the stage, despite the author's protests. "Come on, Will! History needs you!"
"But what can I do?" the writer shouted above the thunderous noise.
"Reverse it!"
"How am I supposed to do that?"
"The shape of the Globe gives words power," the Doctor explained rapidly, "but you're the wordsmith, the one true genius. The only man clever enough to do it!"
"But what words?" Shakespeare asked. It was the first time Molly had seen him look unsure. "I have none ready!"
"You're William Shakespeare!" the Doctor reminded him.
The writer backed up slightly as he said, "But these Carrionite phrases, the need such precision!"
The Doctor pushed him forward again. "Trust yourself. When you're locked away in your room, the words just come, don't they? Like magic. Words of the right sound, the right shape, the right rhythm — words that last forever! That's what you do, Will! You choose perfect words. Do it. Improvise!"
The words seemed to give Shakespeare confidence, at least as much as he needed. With a final glance at the Doctor, he turned to face the swarm of carrionite and shouted defiantly, "Close up this den of hateful, dire decay! Decomposition of your witches' plot! You thieve my brains, consider me your toy. My doting Doctor tells me I am not!" A shriek rose from somewhere in the dark cloud of energy, giving Molly hope that their plan was working. "Foul Carrionite spectres, cease your show! Between the points..."
He turned back to the Doctor, who supplied "7-6-1-3-9-0!" drawing from the last lines of the play.
"7-6-1-3-9-0!" Shakespeare repeated with a roar. "And banished like a tinker's cuss, I say to thee..."
Stuck again, he turned back to the Doctor, who gave a helpless shrug. Molly scrambled her brain for a word that would fit, finally remembering her and the Doctor's earlier conversation about Harry Potter. "Expelliarmus!" she finally suggested.
"Expelliarmus!" Shakespeare finished triumphantly as the Doctor shouted gleefully, "Good ol' JK!"
The dark cloud that before had seemed to be the source of the Carrionite's power now began sucking them up like a tornado. Papers from the stage flew up into the air, getting sucked up into the dark vortex along with the aliens. "Love Labour's Won," the Doctor realized aloud. "There it goes."
After a few moments, the cloud sucked itself in, disappearing completely, taking the strong, noisy winds with it. A relieved silence fell over the theater, broken only when the audience began applauding.
Molly blinked in shock as, one by one, the crowd rose to give them a standing ovation. "They think it was all part of the play," she realized. "Special effects or something."
"Your effect is special indeed," Shakespeare quipped with the return of his charming smile. Molly found the line to be more forced than his others, but she couldn't help but grin with relief as the audience cheered on. They'd saved the theater, and by extension the entire human race. Not bad for her first trip.
SCENEBREAK
"…and I say, a heart for a hart and a dear for a deer." Shakespeare finished, chuckling a little at his own joke.
Molly shrugged a little helplessly. "Er, sorry, I don't get it." The two were sitting on a bench onstage after the play, alone since the audience and the actors had left and the Doctor had gone to take care of the trapped carrionites.
"Then give me a joke from Freedonia," Shakespeare prompted.
Molly shook her head quickly. "Sorry, I don't really know any good jokes. I'm rubbish at them anyway."
"Ah, Miss Hooper, you must learn to have more confidence. Throw yourself into things without thinking first. The best performances always come when the actor has the confidence to improvise."
The pathologist blushed at his advice, but before she could respond, the Doctor emerged from backstage with an animal skull in one hand and a Elizabethan collar ruff around his neck. "Good props store back there! I'm not sure about this though," he added as he looked at the skull. "Reminds me of a Sycorax."
The writer grinned at the Time Lord. "Sycorax. Nice word. I'll have that off you as well."
"I should be on 10%," the Doctor said wryly. "How's your head?"
"Still aching."
The Doctor removed the neck ruff and handed it to the writer. "Here, I got you this. Neck brace." Shakespeare took it gratefully and fastened it around his own neck. With the simple addition, he suddenly looked a lot more like his portraits, with the bonus of hair. "Wear that for a few days till it's better, although you might wanna keep it. It suits you."
"What about the play?" Molly asked curiously.
"Gone," the Doctor replied. "I looked all over — every single copy of 'Love's Labours' Won went up in the sky."
Shakespeare sighed. "My lost masterpiece," he said a little wistfully.
"You could write it up again," Molly encouraged lightly.
Before Shakespeare could respond, the Time Lord shook his head quickly. "Yeah, better not, Will. There's still power in those words. Maybe it should best stay forgotten."
The writer nodded, then smiled. "Oh, but I've got new ideas. Perhaps it's time I wrote about fathers and sons. In memory of my boy — my precious Hamnet."
Molly blinked in surprise. "Hamnet?
"That's him," Shakespeare confirmed.
"Ham-Net?"
The writer narrowed his eyes. "What's wrong with that?"
The Doctor swooped in quick to save Molly from any awkward response. "Anyway, time we were off. I've got a nice attic in the TARDIS where this lot," he quickly held up the crystal where the three original carrionites were trapped, "can scream for all eternity and I've gotta take Molly back to Freedonia."
"You mean travel on through time and space," Shakespeare corrected smugly.
Both Molly and the Doctor stared at the playwright in absolute shock. Even the Doctor was momentarily struck dumb for several moments before managing a weak, "You what?"
"You're from another world like the Carrionites and Molly is from the future," the writer explained with amusement. "It's not hard to work out."
The Time Lord gaped at the man for several moments before breaking out into a huge, giddy grin. "That's... incredible. You are incredible." Molly held back a chuckle at his fanboy behavior.
Shakespeare gave the alien a knowing smirk. "We're alike in many ways, Doctor." He turned back to Molly and said, "Molly, let me say goodbye to you in a new verse. A sonnet for my lady of the future." Molly sucked in a shocked breath as Shakespeare began reciting the familiar, "Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Thou art more lovely and more temperate—"
The playwright was interrupted when two of the actors from before burst in. "Will! Will!" one of them panted out, excited and exhausted from running in turn. "You'll never believe it! She's here! She's turned up!"
"We're the talk of the town," the other actor added. "She heard about last night! She wants us to perform it again."
"Who?" Molly asked with confusion.
"Her Majesty!" the actor explained with excitement. "She's here!"
Before Molly could ask if that meant what she thought it did, fanfare sounded from outside. The Doctor bounded to Molly's side, almost as excited as he'd been when he met Shakespeare. "Queen Elizabeth I!" he whispered excitedly.
A rather unremarkable woman with a very puffy dress and enough make-up to make her look like a ghost entered the globe. She wore a royal, haughty look from the start, but when she noticed the Time Lord and his companion, it slowly transformed into a look of rage. "Doctor!" she hissed hoarsely.
The Doctor furrowed his brow in confusion. "What?"
"My sworn enemy!" the queen added with more heat.
"What?"
"Off with his head!" Queen Elizabeth shrieked.
"What?!"
Molly could see the Doctor was a little stuck, so she grabbed his hand and yanked him towards the TARDIS. They ran together as a soldier yelled behind them, "Stop, in the name of the queen!"
"What did you do to piss her off?" Molly asked as they neared the blue box.
"How should I know?" the Doctor asked defensively. "Haven't even met her yet. That's time travel for you! Still, can't wait to find out." As they reached the TARDIS, the Doctor hurriedly unlocked the door to let himself and his companion in, pausing at the door a moment to get a last look at Elizabethan London before yanking the door shut with a squeak.
Well, here's the end of "The Shakespeare Code" then. "Gridlock" should hopefully be shorter, since I'm mostly just going to be in Molly's POV, since we already know what happens in the Doctor's POV.
I'm also going to be writing a short little interlude between this episode and the next. Molly has a few things she needs to think about, and I want to show that.