"And it's really over?"
"Yes, for the tenth time," Sherlock replied. He wanted to be irritated, but he couldn't muster it. Not when the relief and joy were hitting him like a freight train. It was really over. It was really, truly over. The last piece of the puzzle was in place. Oldacre would be convicted, which would weaken Moriarty's network enough for the other events he'd set in place to occur. He'd gotten rid of all the big players, scattered the little ones, drained their resources, dirtied the name of James Moriarty forever. Yes, he'd brought back James Moriarty, discrediting Richard Brook. The events had all been set in motion. All that remained now was to jump into the future and watch them all unfold.
After that...
The detective paused. He hadn't really let himself think about it. He'd kept himself busy with taking down Moriarty's network, or else he'd focused on learning about alien cultures and whatever crazy nonsense the Doctor had gotten them into. But now... now, he was actually, properly going home. He'd be in 221B again, he'd get to see Mrs. Hudson again, get to insult Anderson and Donovan again, and John...
John. John Watson. He'd get to see his best friend again, alive and well. The reason he'd kept from thinking about seeing John again for so long was because the last time he had seen his flatmate, other than a quick glimpse on one of his Earthly visits, had been during his makeshift funeral during the Year. John had been dead, and Sherlock hadn't known what to do. John was his first real friend, the one person who had stood beside him even when everyone else had turned against him. The only one. The best man Sherlock had ever known. After his death, Sherlock hadn't been sure he had a purpose anymore. It had taken some sharp words from Molly to remind him. He had to help take down the Master, that was their mission. Just keep putting one foot in front of the other, don't look back, don't look forward, just think about the mission and block everything else out. That's how you kept going.
Even now that John was alive again, Sherlock still had a hard time not associating John Watson with the cold, lifeless body lying on a battlefield of reckless rebels. Idiots. Didn't they know they couldn't win against the Toclafane? They should have known, should have realized. If they had, John wouldn't have died.
Sherlock shook his head, smiling softly. Who was he kidding? John would've gotten himself killed helping someone somehow. Because that's who he was. He was the man who cared, the man who helped people. Sherlock did what he did because he was bored, because he wanted to prove he was clever. John did what he did because he honestly cared about people. Sherlock knew that no matter what he did, no matter how many people he helped or saved, he would never be as good of a man as John Watson. But he was better with John, and he knew that. That was why he had to go back. That, and he missed John, and their little flat in Baker Street, and the routine of their life.
Sherlock was distracted from his thoughts by Donna's voice. "You alright then?" The ginger was looking at him with concern.
The detective shook his head. "I'm fine," he said curtly. He was filled with a sudden need to see John again. "Come on, let's go. The Doctor will be meeting us soon."
Donna hesitated. "Actually, um, mind if we catch up with you later? I just wanted to grab a paper quick." Molly looked at Donna in surprise at her use of "we."
Sherlock raised an eyebrow at Donna's rather obvious attempt to get Molly alone. He considered refusing. It was obvious that Donna was going to ask what had happened between her and the Doctor, and he knew Molly really didn't want to talk about. But after a moment, he gave a sharp nod. "Fine. Meet me where the Doctor dropped us off, and don't be late." He turned and sauntered off, his coat swishing behind him.
He wasn't the right person to get Molly Hooper to open up, but maybe Donna Noble was.
SCENEBREAK
It really was over.
The Doctor let out a sigh of relief. The Ood Brain had been freed, and the Ood were all released, able to live on their lives without humans enslaving them. All in all, not a bad day. He wasn't entirely sure it made up for letting the other Ood die, but for right now, it would have to do.
The Ood stood before him, headed by Ood Sigma, the self-proclaimed leader of the Ood. The Doctor was confident that the clever, patient Ood would be able help his people recover from the trauma of their years of slavery. "The message has gone out," he told the Ood "That song resonated across the galaxies, everyone heard it. Everyone knows. The rockets are bringing them back. The Ood are coming home."
The Ood blinked calmly back at him. Before, they had been placid cattle, robbed of self and emotion. Now, there was life in their eyes again, a quiet spark of an individual in each gaze. Ood Sigma held up his translation cube and replied, "We thank you, DoctorFriend. Friend of Oodkind. And what of you now, will you stay? There is room in the song for you."
The Doctor hesitated, shuffling uncomfortably. "Oh, I've... I've sort of got a song of my own, thanks. 'Sides, I promised to pick up some friends, and they'll kill me if I'm late. I'm pretty sure Sherlock's even clever enough to plan it, and Molly and Donna would pull it off. It'd be a mess, it really would. So yeah. Gotta run."
Ood Sigma tipped his head thoughtful, contemplating the Time Lord. "You are right. Your friends are waiting for you, away in Time and Space. One has been waiting longer than the others. She is waiting still, DoctorFriend."
The Time Lord narrowed his eyes. What did that mean? "Meaning?" he asked cautiously.
"No one waits forever, DoctorFriend. All waiting must end, either way," the Ood explained calmly. "Even those who don't know they are waiting. Your wait will end soon, I think, and hers."
Oh, he hated prophecies. They never explained themselves properly. You usually had to climb a mountain and swim a sea before finding out what they meant. Or maybe that was just Ancient Greece. Ah, good times. The Doctor settled for giving a vague nod. "Right. Ok." He shoved his hands in his pockets, rising up to the balls of his feet. "Anyway, that's me off then."
The Ood all raised their arms heavenward as one, a beautiful, haunting song rising from them into the air, swirling around the Time Lord, filling his mind with peace. "Take this song with you," Ood Sigma told him.
The Doctor closed his eyes with a smile, letting the eerie melody etch itself in his hearts. It sounded like good wishes, and the trust of friendship. "I will," he promised. "Always." There was nothing quite like Oodsong, he decided. Kind of like how Harry felt about phoenix song in Harry Potter. Actual phoenix song sounded rubbish. They had singing contests that would go on for days. That was why they were the only inhabitants of their planet capable of hearing; all the others had evolved to become deaf so they wouldn't have to hear the phoenix racket.
"And know this, DoctorFriend," Ood Sigma told him as the song continued on. "You will never be forgotten. Our children will sing of the DoctorFriend, and our children's children. And the wind and the ice and the snow will carry your name forever." The Doctor smiled and gave the Ood a nod, then turned and started off towards his TARDIS. It was time to get back to Sherlock, Molly and Donna.
But Ood Sigma's message still itched at the back of his mind.
SCENEBREAK
Molly wasn't an idiot. She knew Donna was trying to get her alone so she could ask about the Year. Well, not the Year exactly, Donna didn't know about the Year, but she knew something was up between her and the Doctor. And Molly very much did not want to talk about it.
As they walked away from Sherlock, Donna smiled at Molly, commenting lightly, "Well, that's relief! Nice to be able to get away from that bossy stick insect every now and again." She seemed her usual, cheerful self, but Molly knew the questions were coming soon.
She sighed. "Look, Donna-"
Donna cut her off, saying brightly, "Come on then, I'll grab that paper, then let's sit a bit, yeah?"
Molly shuffled uncomfortably. "You know, maybe I should go catch up with Sherlock..."
Dona's expression softened. "Please stay," she said softly. "It'll be quick, I promise."
The companion hesitated a few moments longer. Then she sighed. She couldn't say no to Donna. She didn't want to push her away like she pushed the Doctor away. Donna hadn't done anything wrong. "Fine," she said in a tone heavy with resignation. "But just for a bit."
"Just for a bit," Donna promised. She hurried off to head a newspaper, leaving Molly to find someplace to sit. She wandered vaguely for a few moments, finally finding an empty bench. By the time she found it and sat, Donna was back, the day's newspaper in her hand. The ginger woman sat beside Molly, flipping through the pages of the paper. She sighed. "It's weird, you know. I read this paper months ago. It's already happened, but for them," she gestured to the crowd, "it's all new. They still have to live through it all. And all that stuff we've seen in the past and the future, they'll never get to see any of it. Just us."
Molly stared out into the crowd, eyes narrowed. All those people, clueless about the horrors Molly had to remember. Most of them had died that first day, but the rest had suffered, just like she had, but they had the luxury of forgetting. "Maybe they're lucky," she said darkly. "The universe isn't always beautiful."
Donna shrugged. "Maybe," she conceded. "But there's some great stuff out there. And we get to see it."
Molly was surprised by the sincerity in Donna's tone. She turned and looked thoughtfully at the ginger woman. Donna was the only one on the TARDIS crew who hadn't been around for the Year. She had a certain innocence about her. Well, maybe innocence wasn't the right word. Donna wasn't totally blind to the bad things in the universe, she'd seen enough of them after all. But she still looked at the universe with hope, rather than cynicism. She used to be like that. What had happened?
Donna seemed to realize what she was thinking. She gave Molly a warm, sincere smile. "I don't know what you've gone through, Molly. And you really don't have to tell me, I mean it. I understand. But you're not happy. And I want to know how to help you, because I don't now how much longer you can go on like this. So how can I help?"
Donna 's question hit her hard. How indeed? Everyone was doing their own thing to try to help her, but Molly hardly knew herself. None of it was enough. All anything seemed to do was make things worse. The companion felt uncertainty like she hadn't felt in over a year. Memories of the Year flashed through her mind. She tried to fight back the sudden flashes of despair and terror, and the anger that had been building up ever since the Year's end. For a moment, she felt like that girl she had been at the start of her travels with the Doctor. That self-conscious, uncertain for who didn't believe in her own worth. She had hated being that girl, and she hated having to feel like that again.
She crossed her arms over her chest, tucking her chin down onto her chest, her voice soft and uncertain as she answered honestly, "I don't know." All she knew was that the memories were getting worse, and she couldn't hold back the anger and fear anymore. Something was going to give soon. The trouble was, even if she left the TARDIS and the Doctor behind, she'd always be left with those memories. Nothing would ever be able to scrub out her experiences from the Year.
The stress of dealing with Moriarty's network again, her anger at the Doctor and at herself, the left-over tenseness from their meeting with Warren, had all worn down her usual defenses. She felt vulnerable and tired, so tired. Tired of having to relive a year over and over in her head long after it was over and behind her. Tired of avoiding someone she had counted as a friend. Just... tired.
"What... what it was, I thought I could just forget about it and move on. I thought, you know, once I was back on the TARDIS I'd feel safe again." She let out a harsh laugh. "I didn't think about the memories. Didn't realize how much they'd come back to haunt me. And it just makes me feel so weak, 'cause here I am, blubbering like an idiot over something that happened months ago. I've seen bad stuff on the TARDIS before. Frank's death, Peter Streete, the Face of Boe, all those people on the S. S. Pentallian. It's not like I'd never seen anyone die before, or cruelty. And I'm not a weak person, at least not anymore. I shouldn't be breaking down like this. I don't want to be weak again." She hated the tremor that had entered her voice.
Donna narrowed her eyes. "Molly Hooper, you're not weak," she assured her firmly. "Got it?" When she saw that Molly was too emotional to answer, her expression softened. "Oh, come here." She pulled Molly into a tight hug, arms wrapping around her shoulders, encircling her in a warm embrace. Molly stiffened in surprise for a moment, then melted into the embrace. She let go of her defenses, the steely mask dropping as she just let go. She didn't know she was crying until she felt the wetness on her cheeks. The memories kept coming, but for once, she didn't fight them. She just let them play like a movie in her head. Donna didn't say anything. She just offered wordless comfort, letting the other woman let go for a moment.
After what felt like ages, Molly finally pulled back, wiping hastily at her face. "Ugh, sorry about that," she apologized. The mask was back up, but not all the way. She smiled at Donna as sincerely as she could manage and told her, "But that helped. Really."
"No problem," Donna assured her.
Molly got up, brushing off her leather jacket. "Right, well, we better get back to Sherlock then."
As the companion started off, Donna called after her, "Wait." Molly turned back to look at her. "I know you don't want to talk to me about it. But whatever it is... you should talk to someone."
Molly hesitated. Sherlock wasn't really the bear-your-soul to type of person, and she really didn't want to tell Donna, because that would require explaining everything, which would be worse than discussing it with someone who at least knew about the Year. Besides, she didn't want to complicate her friendship with Donna by throwing in the story of the Year. Really, there was really only one person to talk to about it. There always had been. And Molly didn't want to even think about that. But for Donna's sake, she gave the ginger woman a forced smile and told her, "I'll think about it."
SCENEBREAK
Molly, Donna, and Sherlock had regrouped by the street corner where the Doctor had dropped them off. Donna was arguing with Sherlock about something or other, and Molly had wandered a few paces away to get away from the argument. She was staring boredly out into the crowd, waiting for the familiar vworp, vworp of the TARDIS. She wasn't looking forward to seeing the Doctor again, but it was unavoidable.
"Hello dear."
She froze. Nonononono... On top of everything else that she'd been through today, this was the absolute last thing she needed. The feeling of a Semtex vest pressing against her chest flashed in her mind, along with the terror of that night. Her fingers curled into tight fists as she turned to face the only man she hated as much as the Master. "Moriarty," she spat out.
The Irish man still wore that cruel half-grin she remembered from the night by the pool. "Didn't expect to see you around these parts, miss Molly Hooper. Thought you'd be off in that tin box of yours with stuffy in the coat. All those stars and moons to see."
Molly hated and fear the man, but the primary emotion she was feeling was a fiery, burning anger. It took everything she had not to launch herself at the man and show him what the Year had taught her about fighting. "What about you, Jimmy boy?" she snarled. "If you know so much about aliens, why are you still bothering yourself with Earth?"
"Oh, Molly, Molly, Molly," the man chided, putting a hand over his face. "I knew the Time Lord picked the wrong pet, but you really don't see, do you? With all your little planets and aliens and things, you just don't see what potential Earth has! All these stupid little blundering people, you have no idea how many ways you can twist and turn them. Bend them until they break. It's not even that hard. They are just so ready to go at each other's throats. You just point them in the right direction, then sit back and watch the bloodbath. Now tell me, why would I ever want to leave a place like that?"
Molly just shook her head. "You're sick," she hissed. "Why are you even here? Trying to kill us again?"
Moriarty rolled his eyes. "See, this is why you're the tag-along and not the big player," he groaned. "You just don't get the big picture. Now why would I waste my time trying to kill little ol' you? There's no point."
"You don't need a point," Molly snapped. "You're a monster, you kill because you like it."
The remorseless man gave an exaggerated grin. "There, now you're starting to get it! Now be a dear and run off to grab Sherlock. Bigger fish to fry and all that."
Molly was about to tell Jim right where he could shove it, but before she could, his gaze slid past her to Sherlock and Donna. "Ooo, there's the big boy. And look, he's got another pet. Though this one doesn't seem as friendly." He swept past Molly, ignoring her completely, and strode up to Sherlock and Donna, Molly carefully following.
The two were still locked in their argument, but the instant Sherlock saw Moriarty, he stopped dead. His eyes widened, hate and anger and fear flashing briefly there before the usual cold indifference returned. His expression became carefully composed as he evaluated the man who would one day take everything away from him. "Fancy seeing you here," he said coolly.
Moriarty's grin widened disturbingly, his dark eyes flashing with cruel glee. "Oh Sherlock, you know me. I can't resist a good old stand-off."
Donna looked curiously at the man. "So who're you then?" she asked roughly. She could clearly tell something was up, but she had no way of knowing that the man in the suit in front of her was the most dangerous man she had ever met.
Molly looked carefully from Sherlock to Moriarty, trying to gauge how likely the conversation was to turn to violence. Her own anger was hard enough to reign in without worrying about Sherlock as well. "James Moriarty," she informed her friend quietly. The ginger's eyes widened in surprise, and a tinge of anger. Molly wondered how much Donna knew about what Moriarty had done to Sherlock, and to her.
Moriarty stuffed his hands in his pockets, looking casually at the spot where the TARDIS was due to appear. "Been hearing word of a big blue box popping up at this spot every few years. Seems I underestimated the Time Killjoy. Didn't think you'd be palling up with him, but times change I suppose. Even spotted you a few times, talking to some of my boys. All that running about, throwing wrenches in the works? Sherlock dear, that's practically flirting. I couldn't resist popping down for a little chat."
"How thoughtful of you," Sherlock commented drily. By the tense posture and barely controlled expression, he really wasn't in the mood to play games.
Moriarty's expression suddenly became dangerously still. He slowly approached Sherlock, getting right up into his face. "I thought I warned you to back off, dearie. I made myself pretty clear."
Sherlock stared right down at him, unblinking, unyielding. "And I told you I'd catch you later."
The monster's smirk was back, full of cruel smugness. "Don't think I can't see what you're doing. I will stop you, you know."
"You can't," Sherlock replied, wearing a cruel grin of his own. "It's too late now."
Before Moriarty could respond, a familiar vworp, vworp rang from the usual spot, the blue box phasing in and out of sight. Molly instinctively began backing towards the box, Donna and Sherlock following her example. She kept her back to the box and her sights on Moriarty, who looked amused at their fear of him. "Sorry, but we're going to have to cut this talk short," Molly informed him coldly. "Our ride's here."
Moriarty grinned. "Fair enough." The grin faded, his expression becoming eerily serious. "Until the next time, Sherlock Holmes."
Sherlock's reply was cut off as the TARDIS door swung open, the Doctor poking his head out. "All ready to go then?" The Time Lord froze as he noticed James Moriarty. Cold, burning fury blazed in his eyes for a moment. Molly remembered how Moriarty had threatened all of his companions at once. That was the angriest she had ever seen the Doctor, and now here Moriarty was, facing him unarmed. It was a miracle the man was still standing.
Moriarty grinned widely at the sight of the Time Lord. "You've got some interesting friends here, Doc-tor." He drew the word out, playing with it, all the while carefully watching the Time Lord. He probably knew the weight of the threat against him. Then again, Molly recalled, he didn't seem to value his life all that much. He'd been willing to play hard and fast enough with it last time.
The Doctor hesitated. Molly could tell that he was dying to make the man pay for what he'd done, timelines be damned. A large part of her was more than willing to let him. She had her own scores to settle with James Moriarty.
"Leave him, Doctor." She looked in surprise to see Sherlock glaring coldly at Moriarty. "It's done. Let's go."
The Time Lord hesitated a moment longer, then nodded. He moved to let Donna and Sherlock into the TARDIS. As Molly passed him, she heard him tell Moriarty sharply, "You're lucky that I can't alter future timelines. Your fate is much kinder than any I would've given you." With that, he turned and slammed the TARDIS door behind him, making his way stiffly up to the console.
The Doctor leaned against the console for a moment before letting out a long, slow breath. He turned back to face his companions, his usual, chipper self again. "Well! Where to then?"
"221B, August 10th," Sherlock said immediately. "We need to make sure everything plays out the way it's supposed to. Then we can contact Lestrade, tell him it's alright to release the information I gave him. Only then can I be sure that it's safe to contact everyone who was threatened." By that, Molly knew he was referring solely to John, though she didn't doubt he cared about Mrs. Hudson and Lestrade as well.
The Doctor nodded. "221B it is then." He started to begin the fligth sequence, but after a moment's consideration, he turned to Sherlock with a warm grin. "Congratulations, Sherlock." The detective seemed surprised by the gesture, but returned it with a slight nod. Molly frowned. She hadn't really thought about what ending Moriarty's network would mean. Sherlock was actually leaving the TARDIS at long last. What would it be like without him there? He was the only one other than the Doctor who knew anything about the Year, and he served as a pretty good buffer between her and the people who wanted to know too much. How would she deal with the Doctor when Sherlock was gone?
The TARDIS shook herself into a landing, settling into position with her usual grace. For once, Sherlock was the first to the door. Probably anxious to get back home. He threw open the TARDIS door...
… revealing a very stunned John Watson, staring right at Sherlock.
Wow, two right in a row. I'm on a roll!
Anyway, to business. I think I've pretty much made it clear by this point that Molly has PTSD. It's been around since she returned from the Year, but it's started surfacing more recently, getting worse and worse, culminating in this feeling of rage and helplessness.
As for the Ood's message, I decided now was the time for more foreshadowing. Who are the Ood referring to? One should be slightly more obvious than the other, hopefully.
Grr, James Moriarty, you're harder to write than I remembered! I hope I wrote him well. He and Sherlock are two different types of painful to write, but both are painful in their own ways. I meant for their confrontation to be clever and thought-out and deep, but I got really tired at the end. :P Sorry. Hope what I came up with is enough.
And ooo, cliff hanger. ^^ This shall lead directly into the next episode. It isn't a two-parter though. This is a separate plotline, though it is affected by the actions in this episode. The next two episodes will make up a two-parter, however, to replace The Sontaran Stratagem. Hopefully I'll post more soon.