A/N: Okay, this interlude takes a little bit of a different approach and is a little shorter than normal. It gave me fits, but I wanted to clear the air of some questions that have been hanging around for the entire story, while hinting at what's to come. So – with some hesitation, here's what I've written.
Interlude: Worries
The Wolf sighed with relief as she and John finally made it back to the TARDIS after more than a week's absence. What was supposed to have been a fun day trip to a planet renowned for its hospitality had turned into a nightmare when the citizens of the planet became literal hosts for an invading species – gaseous beings of a parasitic symbiotic nature that took over their hosts' mind and will. A very few occupants of the planet had been genetically immune to the hostile takeover, instead leaving them at risk of their once family and neighbors trying to kill them.
The TARDIS had managed to land the Wolf and John right in the middle of the safe house the survivors maintained in the capitol city. To John's dismay and the Wolf's secret amusement, they had once again found themselves at the wrong end of a gun barrel as the suspicious natives tried to ascertain whether they were a trick sent by the invaders. After a few hours of captivity and discussion, the Wolf managed to convince them that she could help them free themselves.
The people, the Craineans, knew the invaders as the Mist. The Mist had tried to take over their planet decades ago in an all out war, but the Craineans had been able to hold them off with the help of a machine they designed that could throw the Mist out of the minds of anyone they forcefully bonded with. The Mist had been sneakier the second time around, infiltrating the general population in small groups over a window of five years, then attacking once more when there were too few clear minded Craineans left to man the machine.
The Craineans fought back as best they could, but with so few people, there was little they could do. It was the Wolf who came up with the idea of freeing "Misted" Craineans until they had enough to run the machine and free the rest of the citizens. The rebels had been doubtful, but managed to capture two Misted the next day and brought them back to her. When they were restrained, the Wolf entered into their minds, telepathically removing the Mist from where it was grasping at their brains – pulling them out inch by inch. It was a long, arduous process that took the Wolf over an hour each time, but once the Mist had been thrown out of the Crainean brain, it regained its gaseous form only to dissipate harmlessly into the air when its typical containment field wasn't activated.
Encouraged, the Craineans went out the next day and captured a few more Misted, whom the Wolf also freed. After the second one, though, the Wolf grew tired, unused to utilizing her telepathy so vigorously and for such a long period of time. After the third freed Crainean of the day, her knees gave out.
John, seeing that the Wolf had been over-extending herself, had been ready to grab her and keep her on her feet. He tried to take her back to the TARDIS to rest, but she insisted on finishing removing the Mist from the two Craineans left. He had relented, keeping a hold of her as she worked. The last two had gone faster despite her exhaustion, only taking half an hour for each. It had taken them three more days to capture and release enough Misted Craineans, John keeping an eye on the Wolf and keeping her upright the entire time, but then the fifty clear minded people had been able to activate the machine via their genetic code, sending out a pulse that rid the millions of Misted people on the planet of the parasitic aliens.
The Craineans tried to throw a celebration in honor of the Wolf's assistance, but John had declined for her, insisting that what she needed was rest. The natives had backed off gracefully, allowing them to return to the TARDIS, where they found themselves now.
"I'm exhausted and I smell," John announced as soon as they were inside. "Not sure why about the first one, but I'm going to go take a shower and sleep for the next fifty years."
The Wolf smiled tiredly. "Fifty years doesn't sound long enough," she admitted. "I just might join you." Her eyes widened at the accidental implication, her brain to mouth filter not functioning properly in her exhaustion. "Not with you, with you, of course, just – you know, in the bed. Separate beds. In my own room. Sleeping. And you in yours – sleeping."
John smiled at the ramble, not quite having the energy to laugh. "I got it," he reassured her.
The Wolf took a deep breath. "Good night," she muttered, going to go sit down by the console.
"Don't stay up too long doing repairs," John called as he moved down the hallway toward the bathroom. "You need sleep more than I do."
"Uh-huh," the Wolf replied vaguely. "Just some things to check up on." Once she was sure he was gone and not coming back any time soon, she fiddled with some controls on the console until a light started blinking. "Is it on?" she muttered, tapping it, and a screen flickered on, mirroring her face back at her. "Brilliant. Right. Blimey I haven't recorded one of these in over a century. Last one must've been, oh, just after C'rizz left."
The Wolf sank into a her memories for a moment before shaking herself back to the present. "Anyways, important stuff. Newest companion, John Smythe. According to his calendar, it's March seventh, 2006. Last year, October twelfth, 2005, he should have died. And I need to get all this out there, because it's just a tangled mess in my brain, and I can't make heads nor tails of it." She took a deep breath. "Okay, here goes. The whole Game Station disaster should have killed him. He absorbed the Heart of the TARDIS, the idiot," the Wolf growled. "Add to that all the excess energy from the Bad Wolf that's been floating around in there for centuries, and his brain should have fried immediately."
The Wolf glared up at the console. "Why did you let him do that, again?" she growled at the TARDIS.
It was necessary.
She humphed, surprised the TARDIS had deemed it necessary to use actual words. She hardly ever spoke. "I doubt it. Where was I? Oh, right – his brain should have been mush. But it wasn't. No damage at all. And it gets even better. Since then, he's appeared to have displayed telepathic capabilities, which he certainly didn't have before. Cassandra could barely touch him, only managed to lock him away, not able to even access more than his most surface memories. The haemovores had trouble controlling his mind, and when they got a hold of him, he broke free with hardly any assistance from me."
The Wolf shook her head, trying to organize everything she wanted to say. The TARDIS hummed encouragingly, back to non-verbal communication. "And then there was our latest trip. Mental note to never go to Cranal again. The Mist – your typical run of the mill parasitic symbionts – took over the local population. But John, with theoretically the least telepathic protection from invasion, was never in any danger of being consumed by the Mist. He even helped clear the Craineans minds. The incredible thing is, John doesn't know he's doing any of it. He probably thinks he's being protected by the TARDIS, and who knows, he might be. You certainly like him enough, don't you love?"
The ship chimed happily, making the Wolf smile. "That's another thing. He talks to the TARDIS. And she answers back, as best she knows how. I don't think he has enough telepathic ability yet to actually communicate with her, and if he can, the TARDIS is keeping mum about it. She won't tell me a thing. Will you love?" The lights flashed twice in the negative. The Wolf shook her head. "Stubborn to her core."
She focused her attention back on the camera. "There are other things, but they're less worrisome than the one's I mentioned. Except for the fact that John seems to be able to read Gallifreyan. The TARDIS doesn't translate it, and as far as I know, I'm the last in the universe that can speak it. Of all of his new and impossible abilities, this one frightens me the most. Because I don't know what it means. I can see him coming out of the Game Station with slight telepathic abilities, but I can't explain this. John seems safe enough – healthy, happy. There's nothing I can do to investigate that won't set off alarms in his head again. His medical scans show increased brain capacity, but nothing more. Everything about him is healthy. All I can do is watch. And pray to whatever deities may or may not exist or have ever existed. Because something is coming. I've felt it since the Game Station. And I don't think we're going to be ready for it. I remember the prophecy."
A/N: Okay, I hope that didn't suck too bad and wasn't boring. Heads up. I am taking part in Nanowrimo, National Novel Writing Month, meaing that I am attempting to write 50,000 words of an original novel in the course of the month of November. This means that with that, work, and school, I haven't had time for Howling recently. So, in order to ensure that I'm not compromising the quality of either project, I'm going to take the rest of November off to focus on my novel, and will return to Howling as soon as November is over. So this will be the last chapter for a few weeks. Don't worry, I won't abandon this story :)