Chapter 11

Nova was liking the close dancing in Cillian's arms much more than she knew she should. She even liked how he smelled. How odd was that? But she did. He smelled like sandalwood and vanilla, her favorite scents other than home cooking. And somehow, her head had made its way to his shoulder, where it now rested.

How could she do this to herself? It was probably the worst form of self-torture she could imagine. She knew, knew, that no man wanted her. How else had she reached nearly thirty with only a single one-night-stand to her name? Practically a virgin, except in the strictest definition. She still hadn't had an orgasm except with an electrical-powered boyfriend.

But here she was, slow dancing with a possible future employee, inhaling his fragrance like she was a child smelling a fresh pumpkin pie. Imagining how his arms were around her gently, cradling her just right. Making her feel wanted and cared for. "We need to stop," she murmured against his pale blue shirt as she drew away. Was just wishful thinking that his arms only let her go reluctantly?

His voice was right by her ear as he replied, "As you wish." Why did he emphasize that 'you'? Was he only stopping because she insisted? But she didn't want him to stop! Or did she? How much would she hate herself later for this? For not letting it continue…or for not stopping it before it broke her heart.

Fortunately, or unfortunately depending on how one thought about it, a shout came between pieces of music, jarring her instantly out of her tumultuous thoughts. "NOVA!"

"Jack?" she asked, turning her head toward the direction of the shout. In her name, she had heard barely-restrained panic and fear.

Cillian, never having been told he was a stupid man by any stretch of the imagination, wondered if she called the other 'Jack' because of how much alike the man was to her character. After all, his name was John, which would make two John's on set, which could definitely be confusing. Cillian himself had once been on set with three Mary's. It had been a headache differentiating them in speech patterns and such.

However, he had also heard the tonality in 'Jack's voice and hurried to fight the crowd toward the other man, one hand around Nova's shoulders to help lead her through the now-throng of dancing patrons.

When they made their way over, Nova immediately went to Barrowman's side. "Jack, what's wrong? Where's Sara?" she asked anxiously.

"She told me your secret, Nova. Altamont overheard and confronted her to tell him all of it. He'll order you to do the same." She paled as he had started speaking. Cillian wondered if the attempts on the girls' lives he had heard about weren't just rumors. Maybe a crazed fan? Every public figure had heard horror stories of such things. Both girls certainly had a large security team each. His thoughts were interrupted as Barrowman kept talking. "She reacted by running out to the nearby lake and taking a swim. Then she started to scream. When I went in after her, she fought me." Barrowman ran a hand through his hair in agitation. "I had no choice. I had to knock her a bit dazed just to be able to get her to shore." It explained why the man was dripping wet.

"When I did get her to shore, I summoned her security to take her home. She kept babbling about someone being in the lake. How you needed to make sure he didn't come here. I was hoping you could shed some light on her reaction."

Cillian remained quiet, just watching the byplay with his considerable observational skills. There was something happening here. Something he was missing. As if only hearing half a conversation. Or starting a book in the middle without the luxury of even a synopsis of what happened in the preceding chapters.

Nova was still a bit pale, but when she understood that her friend wasn't in immediate danger, she slowly began to regain her color. "Who did she think was in the lake?"

"Someone called 'the Valeyard'."

Jack – he really didn't mind the name, thought it made things less confusing, and also a little flattered by their consideration – could not have guessed how that title would have made the five foot four redhead react.

Whatever color she had gained, she quickly lost. She spun on her heel, her eyes darting around the room full of oblivious people as if she expected something horrible to happen. "We have to leave." Her voice was a bare whisper, barely audible to her own ears.

"What?" Jack tried to get her to repeat.

"We have to leave!" she cried out, grabbed both of their arms and tried to physically drag them out of the bar. In shock, they allowed her to do just that. When all three were outside, she called out to her security who were waiting by the door for them. "We need to get to the townhouse!" the fear in her voice was enough to get them all moving quickly, trying to find the danger her tone implied.

Since her grip didn't loosen on either arm, the men were hustled into the limo as well, alongside her; Cillian included. Jack peered over at him with a raised eyebrow. "Interesting introductions, huh?"

Murphy inclined his head in acknowledgement of the statement. His eyes though were on Nova, wondering what about this unknown individual had made her so afraid. She was practically shaking in the vehicle, absolutely terrified. He didn't think he'd ever seen anyone so scared before, not off camera or on. This wasn't acting. Her blue-purple eyes were distant, as if she was seeing something they couldn't. Or lost in memory. Even when they passed through the gates to the gorgeous property he assumed was the townhouse – which made him wonder at their version of a simple house or flat – and he saw the incredible security, all of which were on high-alert, she didn't relax.

When the limo stopped, he had to step out first so that she could exit. Her death-grip on their sleeves still had not wavered at all. Her knuckles were stark white from having such force for so long. He doubted she would hear him, wherever her mind was at the moment, but he whispered anyway to the other man, "Is there a doctor present?"

Her sharply indrawn breath and utterly terrified eyes met his own in less than a millisecond, making him wonder how on earth she could move so quickly. "Where is he? Where's the Doctor?!" there was nothing but fear there.

Jack, now that they weren't moving, called out, "Michael! Get your ass in here!" His voice echoed slightly, careful not to use the word 'doctor' again. Before the reverberations had petered out, there was the sound of rapid footsteps. "Bring a sedative!" The footsteps became louder and quicker.

Nova herself had started to fight trying to get away from the footsteps. "No! Not him! Please!" He had to wrap his strong arms around her waist and bodily lift her from the ground, so hard did she try to run out the door. "He'll kill us all! Please!" tears were streaming down her cheeks as she kept fighting.

Michael came into the foyer at a dead run, needle in hand. When he saw his struggling patient, he didn't even pause. Just went with as much speed as he could achieve to give her the mild sedative to help calm her down. "Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. What in the hell happened Jack?!"

The girl was finally starting to calm, though the tears didn't stop. As her form began to sag, Jack shifted his hold to one arm under her knees and one supporting her back. "Hell if I know. I was telling her what happened to Sara then she turned white as a sheet and was pulling us toward the car as quick as she could. I've never seen her so scared."

"It was the name that triggered her." Cillian said quietly, still almost in shock at what he had seen from the girl in the last quarter-hour. "Whoever that individual is, she's terrified of them."

"Don't say his name." Her voice was just as quiet, filled with tears. They looked down at her only to find her eyes on them, pleading with them to agree. "He might come if you say his name."

John Altamont had finally arrived, his brother at his side. Neither paused for long at the unexpected visitor. That was what the short-term memory loss drug Be-Gone, which he thought he had seen Nova call 'Ret-Con' in her notes, was designed for. "Who, Nova?" he tried to ask gently. They had gotten nothing out of Sara. She was far too hysterical from whatever she had seen. Dr. Freeman had no choice but to knock the girl out completely to prevent her from hurting herself. Thus, now Nova was their only source of information, and she was slightly inebriated and given a relaxant. Perhaps that would help. "Who is this man?" he was careful not to say the name, trying to keep her talking without antagonizing the clearly traumatized girl any further. "Has he hurt you? Did he hurt Sara?" he kept his voice so very calm, gentle. Trying to coax the information out of her.

"You don't understand," she voiced, tears once again flowing down her cheeks. "He's going to kill us all."

"We gave our word to protect you, Nova. You and Sara." Mark intoned behind his brother, adopting the same tone and body language he used when trying to make people think he was kind and non-threatening.

"No one can protect us. You don't understand." She sobbed in broken heaves.

Cillian couldn't stand this anymore. Just watching this spectacle made his chest hurt, his anger simmer and try to boil over at just how broken this girl was. Whoever this 'Valeyard' happened to be, it was perfectly clear that the man – if one could call such a person a man, which implied humanity and this individual clearly had none if he could inspire such abject terror – had traumatized Nova so well that she had no rational processes when it came to the individual.

Not knowing what else he could do to help, Cillian knelt on the floor next to the couch the girl had been laid upon, and adopted one of the many personas he had portrayed before. He had done extensive research for each role. He had gained the equivalency of a minor in several subjects from all the books he had read and studied, including psychology for his role of Dr. Jonathan Crane. He schooled his facial expression into the one that she seemed to respond the best to – his boyish smile – and tried to reassure her. "Nova." Her eyes focused on him, which he thought was a good first step. "We're trying to help you. But we can't do that if you don't tell us what we need to know." Those eyes might as well been verbally begging him, pleading with him, to leave her alone. "Please let us help you and Sara." At the mention of her friend, he could see the moment when she gave in.

Her voice was quiet, hesitant, and full of tears and broken pauses. But she told the room all of it. None asked her questions during her small breaks, almost afraid it would make her stop speaking completely.

And so they all listened. John Altamont, Mark Gatiss, Michael Freeman, John Barrowman, and Cillian Murphy as she explained everything. About her non-sequential dreams, her family and dimension where she had started writing books. The Doctor. The Master. Gallifrey. The Valeyard – though she never said the name. Sara and her dimension. How the girls had met. The Time Lord Victorious. The Hybrid. Being ever-so-careful searching for the people they had thought might be there and finding none. Writing the books. Sherlock Holmes. John Watson. Mycroft Holmes. The television offer.

It took hours.

By the time she was getting toward the end of her tale, catching up with present-day, the sedative had almost worn off and the poor woman was looking haggard and exhausted.

Dr. Freeman finally stepped to her side, pushing Cillian, who had never moved from his place next to the couch, out of the way. "It's time to get you to bed, my dear. I think this time, you'd like to sleep with Sara?" It was a question, but he didn't even wait for an answer as he gestured for Jack – their strongest – to carry her. Cillian however, was the one to lift the woman into his arms, walk up the stairs, and settle her gently into bed beside her friend, pulling the covers up and tucking her into bed. He gazed at her for a long moment before closing the door, double checking that the guards were still there just in case, and going back downstairs.

He stepped into the middle of a discussion.

Jack was standing by the window. "Well, that certainly explains some things that never made sense. No wonder they are so scared of the Doctor. Nova has seen the absolute worst side of him and is terrified of the sheer possibility."

"If she was telling the truth—"

"Why would she lie?" he demanded, breaking off the other man. "She was terrified and drugged. I doubt she could lie in that state!"

"If you would let me finish." Mark admonished with a raised eyebrow. After a second, he continued. "As I was saying, if she was telling the truth, it certainly explains things. It also explains why their information was both accurate and incorrect at the same time. However, with that in mind, what makes us think that Nova's dreams aren't similar to Sara's 'show'?"

John nodded thoughtfully. "If she is dreaming such things, she could just as easily be dreaming about other dimensions entirely. Not necessarily this one. That would also explain why they are non-sequential. Theoretically, all dimensions are at different points in time, independent of each other. Only the ones directly next to one another are even close in the main time stream."

"Neither girl has control of their abilities. It's reasonable." Michael said tiredly.

Cillian was definitely of several minds on this subject. He doubted that anyone could make up a story so fantastic. Plus, the emotions she had portrayed were certainly real. However, someone could believe something and it still be fiction. It was called insanity. A fugue state, if he remembered correctly. Why were these men taking her story seriously? And what were they going to do when they remembered he was there? For the moment, he would stay silent and just watch. Observe. It was something he did very well.

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Sara woke up back in her room in the queen size bed with Nova tucked in right next to her. She blinked her eyes quickly, feeling a little queasy from her alcohol consumption and then the bitter taste at the back of her throat. No longer under the influence, she scowled briefly remembering what she had said, how John had overheard her. Running out to the lake and the insubstantial vision that appeared before her in the shadows. The lake and Hyde Park seemed to curl with a fine white mist to which she hadn't given much credence to in the midst of her inebriated state but…..now she knew. A hallucination. She pressed her lips together.

The brothers had been demanding information. They wanted to know the source. They went so far as manipulate Jack to find the outcome. She was irritated, considering all the more that the very effects were a mimicry to the Hounds of Baskerville. What did they do? Import the chemical for extra effect? Considering the similarity between John and the version of Sherlock she had seen in her dimension who had been given to experimental whims, she wouldn't put it past either of them.

But she took a deep breath and counted to ten. A constant measure, which Nova had often said to do before she simply went into a furious rampage. Besides her friend was sleeping next to her and Nova looked so peaceful in that moment. Sara really didn't want to wake her. Likely the stress of the situation had not been helpful. Nova needed her rest and Sara needed information.

So she quietly stepped outside to see four men downstairs. One in particular kept to the back near the stairs, observing quietly but trying not to garner attention. Sara grimaced briefly. Cillian Murphy. He was listening. The brothers and Jack were talking about things candidly, nearly as if Cillian wasn't even there.

Poor guy. She thought. Sara respected him and she hoped that the little spark she detected between him and Nova might develop. He shared a fair amount of her interests and he was bright. Versatile. But she also knew the brothers would consider various options when they realized they had to clean up a potential leak and….no. She thought. She wouldn't run the risk of letting someone die that she had brought here in the first place.

So, she stared down at him, mentally thinking. Look up. Just look up. It was so often the case that a person could feel someone's stare could be felt on another level. At least it often seemed so for her. But her heart leapt when Cillian glanced up at her. His mouth started to open but she shook her head, putting her finger to her lips as she beckoned for him to come upstairs.

He nodded and quietly made his way upstairs. She was astonished at how light he was on his feet. She had seen a few episodes of him in Peaky Blinders and thought about how his footfalls were relatively light. It was similar in Batman Begins and then in Red Eye.

"You're feeling better." He observed.

"More or less." Sara led him down near her bedroom. "What did you hear?"

He cocked his head, looking directly at her. "Nova confessed you both were from alternate dimensions. She senses other realities through dreams. You believe you experience them through television shows. That your writing is based on those accounts. You also have abilities but you have a perpetual fear of an individual who is a doctor. In particular someone called a Valeyard."

Sara closed her eyes. "Please don't say Valeyard around Nova."

"Who is the Valeyard?"

"I'm not sure you signed on for this type of insanity," she sighed.

"I'm adaptable." Cillian said. "And I'm already involved. If someone hurt Nova to that degree…." His expression tightened at the thought. He remembered how genuinely pleasant it was dancing with her. It was rare for him to feel that way with anyone, much less a girl he had known for less than six hours. He caught Sara's brief smile. She hadn't missed the gesture and emotion that crossed his face. "Or you." He remedied quickly.

"I see." Sara told him. How well she did. She took a breath and looked up at him. She heard Jack downstairs. Cillian's name was mentioned and then she heard the terms ret-con and HDAC. Oh, she knew that term. Why did it skip her mind?

"Histone deacetylase inhibitor." Sara muttered.

"Pardon?" Cillian asked but Sara took hold of his hand.

"They are going to erase the last twenty four hours of your memory. You won't even remember meeting us but…." She swallowed. "Call it instincts, I know and I think Nova does too, that we can trust you. Go out the window, to the left, there's a ladder you can shimmy down. The code is 8253 to deactivate the electrical field around the gate. Access panel on the far left hand side. There's a small door. You should be able to walk right out."

"And you two?" He asked. "I would like to arrange a meeting."

"I know." She placed a phone in his hand. "My phone. We'll call you. Just please, remain off the grid for the next twenty four hours or stay with close friends. People you know."

"I believe I know the place." He paused before taking one last glance at Nova and then looking at Sara. "You both will explain?"

"I promise." She said, hearing the footsteps up the stairs. "Go now, please."

By the time the three arrived with the ready pill, Cillian Murphy had disappeared and the security to the gate had been breached. Nova had abruptly awakened to hear Sara being lectured and interrogated as to how she got the code. She blinked her eyes rapidly and smiled to herself, thinking about Cillian. She really didn't want all the memories of their meeting to be eradicated. Sara, she supposed, had made the decision in part for her.

"How did you obtain the code sequence for the security gate?" John demanded.

Sara looked down, not glancing at Nova once. "Lucky guess?" She had gotten the code from her friend when they had first arrived at the townhouse over a month ago. It was the brothers' own fault for never changing the code to begin with! Considering how paranoid the brothers were supposed to be with their protection, one would think that passcodes and such other important things would be changed weekly, if not daily. That the code still worked was a little odd, in her opinion.

"Stop yelling at her. It's not her fault that you did something stupid." Nova came to her defense, her hands on her hips as she tried to take a more aggressive stance. She wasn't quite sure she pulled it off very well.

"We did something stupid?!" John now actually yelled; almost as if he was determined to do the deed he was being accused of. Before he was just being forceful, but his volume had been even. Now, the volume had been increased. Just for her.

"Yes! You did something stupid!" Nova refused to back down, glaring at him. "Sara was just trying to fix it before it got out of hand!"

"And what could we possibly have been doing that was so moronic?" John countered, his voice now almost a growl. He hadn't thought the petite redhead capable of such aggressive tendencies. However, now that she was showing some, he didn't quite know how to handle them. If she was anyone else - as in someone that wasn't under his and his brother's protection - he would have ignored her attitude and proceeded as usual. Since she and Sara both were covered under the contract, he wasn't quite sure of his response.

"You were going to erase Cillian's memory." Nova answered promptly, folding her arms over her chest in irritation.

"To protect you both." Mark thought it was about time he got in on this discussion, his calm, even voice a counterpoint to them both. If one could call such a shouting match a 'discussion'. "He knows more than he should."

"He wouldn't have said anything to anyone."

"How could you know? You've known him less than twenty-four hours." Mark raised an eyebrow in dubious query.

Nova paused at that, not knowing what to say. But she did know that "I like how he smells" wouldn't be an adequate response. Such a reply would probably result in having Mark order the security team to go hunt the man down and force-feed him the Ret-Con, or whatever they were calling it. Actually...why hadn't they already done just that? Just because Cillian had managed to escape the property didn't mean he was inaccessible. It wouldn't take much time or effort on either brothers' part to track the man down.

Sara looked at her friend trying to defend her, take the attention off of who had really been the one to let Murphy off the property. Nova might have given her the code, but she had been the one to decide to use it. Now Nova was getting the attention on herself. Perhaps trying to get them to forget? That wouldn't work. The brothers didn't forget - no matter how much one may want them too. They only forgot when they wanted to and what they wanted to.

So, it was time to do her part in this newest fiasco that was their life. Sara schooled her features in an 'ah-ha' moment and said quite clearly. "You have a feeling, don't you?" It wasn't a lie, exactly. Both girls hated lying.

Nova's periwinkle eyes zoomed to hazel, understanding clicking in their gazes. The redhead nodded slowly, as if hesitating to bring it up. It was true, after all. She did have a feeling.

She felt like she could ignore the whole universe when he held her in his arms as he did last night. She felt that his kisses would taste like vanilla and be gentle, but with the hidden burning passion she could see in his eyes. She had seen a glimpse the night before, barely simmering rage for her. He had wanted to do everything he could to help her last night. He had been angry that he hadn't been able to do more, other than gently, calmly assure her of her safety. She felt he was full of such hidden depths and passions that she could easily - eagerly - continue to discover and delight in them for the rest of her life.

Nova froze at her own thoughts. Oh Rassilon...what's happening to me? Am I… Do I… Abruptly, she sprang forward, caught Sara's hand in her own and practically dragged her best friend up to their room. "Time for girl talk! Bye!" She yelled over her shoulder to the boys halfway up the stairs. When she finally got them to her room, she pushed Sara in and slammed the door shut, locking it for good measure. When she turned around, her eyes conveyed fear. Fear of the unknown. Fear of being hurt. Fear of possibilities. "I think I'm in trouble," she finally voiced. Imploring Sara to help.

Sara, reading everything in her friend, and having a small idea about where such things were coming from, internally laughed gaily. Nova, her dear friend of almost seven years, was in the middle of her first crush. All she allowed herself for the moment was a small smile as she turned her attention to the upcoming discussion.

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The men downstairs blinked at the retreating backs of their two charges. John finally asked in genuine curiosity, "Is it hormonal? I missed the memo."

Jack blinked at the audacity to actually voice such a question. He thought it was obvious. He wasn't a ladies-man for nothing. He paid attention to such things. Learned when to stay away. Far, far away.

Mark shook his head. "Perhaps, but neither girl is due for their menses for another nine days."

Michael tilted his head in astonishment. "You keep track?" It was his job as their doctor to keep note of such things, but them? And what did John mean by memo?

"You don't?" John asked in some surprise.

"Well of course I do, I'm their doctor, it's my job to know these things! But why do you?" Michael asked incredulously.

"As they are under our protection, I must be aware of all possibilities and their state of being. Mental, emotional, and physical states. How can I adequately anticipate their actions, reactions, and needs unless I have all the data possible?" Mark said, his tone implying that the answer was obvious. "Both the male and female bodies produce hormones in a cyclic fashion. Female hormones in particular can produce discomfiture, which would contribute to their physical state. Which may result in emotional decisions they will regret later, which in turn results in an upset mental state." He made it sound very reasonable.

Michael just wanted to bang his head against a wall. It might be more productive. Almost three years knowing these two and still he didn't know everything. Of course, before Sara and Nova, there hadn't been a woman the brothers lived with since they still resided with their own families. Michael suddenly realized that the brothers probably knew the 'hormonal cycle' of all their relatives. "Don't tell them you do that," he moaned into the hand he currently held over his face.

John scoffed, "Of course not. I only made that mistake once. And excuses must be made for children. I was hormonal myself at the time."

Jack laughed uproariously at the mental image of a pre-teen John innocently asking such a question to a sibling. Or perhaps casually informing the family over dinner that the sister was only whining about the dress she wanted because her mental state was being effected by her hormonal cycle. A pause as the table absorbed the words and processed the meaning. Then an explosion as said sister leaps across the table to try and strangle her brother. Yes, Jack would treasure such an image!

Mark cleared his throat. "The point, gentlemen, is that while the peak of their hormonal cycle has not been reached as of yet, the girls are on a down curve. They may indeed be reacting impulsively."

"Or," Jack stressed, "you could take them seriously. Nova having a feeling is significant. We should all pay attention to when one of them has a feeling, good or bad in nature."

"Noted," Mark inclined his head generously at the point. "We must also contemplate how they obtained the code for the gate to begin with, however."

The four all stopped to consider for several moments, each thinking about possibilities. Jack finally cleared his throat, hesitating to even bring such a topic up. "Are either of you aware that Time Lords are...telepathic?" Because he had known the brothers for years, over a decade, and knew that they took the contract very seriously. They would not have shared the code with anyone except those that absolutely had to have the information, which wouldn't have been many. And the ones that did have it, would have been vetted from at least five sources, sworn to secrecy, and signed a stack of non-disclosures.

The brothers exchanged a speaking glance.

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