He should be doing something. He should be moving, flying the TARDIS somewhere, researching something, doing SOMETHING. Instead, he sat slumped over in the jump seat, slumped over - after his attempt to catch up those less familiar with the Weeping Angels, he'd sat down, his mind going fuzzy. His new bond with his wife was still so fresh, so new—the completion of their bond hadn't even occurred yet, he considered as he fiddled with the ribbon around his wrist. He wanted to will himself to get up, to start thinking through what Archie might have done to leave behind a message, a way for him to find her. But his brain was just—short circuited.
Through the haze he looked up to see his former companions all standing around the console, with a few extra additions—Sylvia, Wilf, and Shaun—considering how they might be able to find her.
And here he sat. Useless.
That was, until the incredible red-haired best friend of his stomped her way over to him. "Doctor!" She grabbed a hold of his shoulders, bending down to look him in the eye. "Doctor, I need you to snap out of it now. We can't do this without you. You're the one who knows the most about her."
"Donna, I—I—"
She sighed, knealing down in front of him and taking his hands in her own, squeezing them gently. "Doctor, I know it hurts. Your heart hurts and I can only imagine your mind does too. But, Doctor—if we're to find her, I need you to stand up and come over here and help."
She stood back up and he followed suit, with her not letting go of his hands till he was fully standing. When she finally let his hands drop, she then placed a hand on his back and gently nudged him forward towards the console.
"I've had an idea, Doctor, but I need your help. You've told me before that when you used the Chameleon Arch, the TARDIS used your pseudonym as your name—John Smith—right?" He nodded. "So, in the history books somewhere, there's a John Smith who was a teacher at that school, right?" He nodded again, and Donna gave a quiet huff that he hadn't caught on yet. "And what name was the Archivist given while she was a human for all that time?"
"Christine," he said weakly, before clearing his throat and trying again. "Christine Madison."
"So, if she got sent back in time in New York City—or anywhere on Earth for that matter, she'd need a pseudonym. Couldn't go around being called the Archivist, could she? And if there's one thing I've learned it's that you Time Lords have a penchant for sticking with the same fake name, no matter what time or location.
By now, Donna had gone over to the monitor and was typing in at super-temp speed onto the keyboard.
The puzzle pieces were starting to fall into place as he made himself slowly step closer to her.
"So, you told me she was Christine the human around the time of the 2001 terrorist attacks, having been present approximately twenty years before that." She typed as she spoke, narrowing down her search criteria. "With a birth record and life having been created for her prior to those twenty years. So, we'll say approximately 1960-2003. So we need to search prior to 1960 for a Christine Madison somewhere on Earth, most likely, but not necessarily, in New York City."
"But Donna, as Time Lords we're trained to not get written about in other civilizations history books. We're supposed to remain as invisible as possible."
"Well, yes, I'm sure you are, if you aren't trying to wave a big red flag that says, 'Hey Spaceman, come and find me!' But surely she could do something to be written about without doing anything to mess with the time lines too much."
Just as soon as Donna was done talking, a beeping started on the screen. Everyone came running over.
"What is it! What'd you find?" Sylvia said excitedly.
Donna and the Doctor were closest and stared at the screen. A wide grin formed on Donna's face. She was a speed reader, having made it through the writing even quicker than the Doctor.
"That's her! That's got to be her!"
"What is it?" Jack said, peering over their shoulder.
"Christine Madison, author, wrote The Healer and the Librarian in…1929. Doctor! Look at that—The Healer and the Librarian - if that isn't secret code, I don't know what is! The Doctor and the Archivist—The Healer and the Librarian!"
"Wh-Wha—D-Donna, you did it—you found her!"
"Of course she did! Brilliant, that's my girl!" Wilf hopped up and down excitedly.
"But where is she?"
The Doctor frowned. "Last known address—New York City, 1929…that's the beginning of the Great Depression. And—oh—oh, no—"
Martha's face went pale. "Doctor—we were in New York City—in 1930. When the—"
"The Dalek's."
"What!?" Donna barked out. "Oh, bloody hell no, we are not dealing with those tin cans again, are we?"
"We have to get her out before—before they start taking people. If she—if they get a hold of her—realize who she is—"
"Then we'll get her, Doctor. We'll get her out in 1929, well before we were ever there, before the Dalek's—"
"What were the Dalek's doing in 1930 New York City?" Jack asked.
"The short answer—The Cult of Skaro was performing genetic experiments."
"Oh my God," Lucille gasped.
The ship was soon landing in a back alley in 1929 New York City. The Doctor and Jack were whispering by the console when the ladies came back into the room.
"Wha—what are you doing?" the Doctor asked as he looked at Sylvia, Lucille, Martha, and Donna, all dressed in 1930's style clothing.
"We're ready to go looking for Christine Madison, what do you think we're doing?"
"Oh no, no, no—I'll not go risking timelines and lives having all of you running around willy nilly."
"Oh, get off it, Doctor!" Sylvia shot back at him. "We're not fools, nor children. We know how to behave and I've seen enough time travel films to know not to get into trouble and change history. You want your wife back, then you need all of us. If we split up we're much more likely to find her, and quicker.
The Doctor looked at her, exasperated. "Sylvia—why—why are you being so nice to me?"
Sylvia's expression softened. "Because, Doctor—how many times have you helped Earth? Saved us from total destruction? The least we can do is help you get your wife back." She gave him a pleading look. "Please Doctor, let us help."
The Doctor sighed as he looked around at the faces of the men and women determined to help him. "Alright. Alright, then. But if we're going to split up you absolutely must be careful not to do anything that could change anyone's timeline. Don't put a penny in a can, don't help someone cross the street. The only life we're interested in changing is that of my wife. Now, do you all have mobile phones?"
Everyone glanced around at each other, nodding.
"Alright then, pull them out, let's see them."
The ladies reached into the era-appropriate purses they carried with them, the men into their pockets. The Doctor pulled his sonic out and started waving it over each of them.
"There, no accidental ringing phones in the 1930's, thank you very much. I've basically set them up to only do a group chat feature, so if you spot her or learn any information, find a private place with no prying eyes and send the information out to the rest of the group. Martha, Mickey, and Lucille, you three start in Uptown, Upper East and West Side. Donna, you, Shaun, and Sylvia check out midtown. Jack, Wilf, and I will head to Lower Manhattan. We'll be checking her last known address.
They'd been searching New York City for hours, with no luck yet. Jack, the Doctor, and Wilf had gone back to her last known address with no luck, and the current tenants rather grumpily told them they had no idea who she was. After that, they split up and went into different areas to ask shop keepers if they knew of a Christine Madison.
The other teams had split up as well, and now Sylvia Noble walked down the sidewalk, passing by a long line of people waiting in a breadline. It broke her heart to think of all the poor needy people in this city during this era. She sighed, looking around, unsure where to go and who to ask next. She hadn't been paying attention to where she was till someone bumped into her, causing her to look up from the sidewalk. It was only then she saw the grand structure in front of her. The New York City public library.
The Healer and the Librarian she thought to herself.
The Librarian she considered.
What better place for an Archivist than the New York City Public Library? As she had this thought, she made her way up the stairs of the library.
The Archivist, or, as she was known in this time, Christine Madison, sat at her desk at the library. It had been a slow day, as most days were right now. Too many city residents were in bread lines to spend their time on leisurely reading, so the library was slow. There were rumors that they'd be laying off employees soon, she only hoped she might be able to keep her job long enough for the Doctor to find her. Trying to find another job in this economy was difficult, and she could barely afford to keep the meager accommodations she was renting.
It was quiet in the library, so the gasp she heard was enough to get her attention. She looked up, and standing across the room was an older blonde haired woman she'd recognize anywhere. But it couldn't be—could it? She stood up, the woman slowly moving closer as she did.
"S-Sylvia?"
"Arc—I mean, Christine? Christine Madison?"
"Yes," she whispered loudly as they came up to each other. "It's me! It's my Sylvia!"
The two women hugged each other tight. "Oh, the Doctor is going to be so thrilled to know we've found you! And won't it be just right that I am the one that found you! After he put up such a fuss about me coming along!"
"Oh, Sylvia, I'm so happy to see you! Is he here?"
"He's downtown looking for you. We're spread out all over the city trying to find you! Is there someplace private we can go so I can send him a message?"
"Yes, yes! Come with me!"
The Doctor came out of the 22nd small shop he'd been in asking about Christine. He sighed, starting to get discouraged.
"Now, I see that look, Doctor," Wilf came up. "You just stop that thought right now. We'll find her. We'll find her soon, I just know it."
Jack approached then. "Any luck?"
"None. No one seems to heard of her. No luck with that picture the TARDISes doctored up either."
Just then, all three of them felt their phones vibrate in their pockets. The Doctor was fastest to his.
Sylvia: Found her! Everyone to the NYC Public Library!
"Blimey, she did it! My daughter, she did it! She found her!" Wilf said before hopping around in a dance.
Jack was already flagging down a taxi before the Doctor had time to react. He was too busy staring at the message on his phone.
Twenty minutes later, the taxi pulled up in front of the NYC library. The Doctor got out, quickly surveying the area in front of him, the sidwalks, the stairs—he froze. His brain was short-circuiting again. There, sitting on the stairs next to Sylvia Noble was the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen in the universe, in the entirety of existence in fact. His Christine Madison—his Archivist—his Telana. Whether or not she felt his presence at the edge of her mind first or just felt someone staring, she looked up at that moment and saw him. She jumped up, but neither moved forward.