Relict

by LizzeXX

12/OC -Time Lady- The Doctor and his Bonded, the Professor, have escaped Tenzalore with their lives, new regeneration cycles, and their unborn child surviving their 'Fall.' But with the Promised Land being sought and another woman vying for the Doctor's attention in the Nethersphere, what will become of the Time Lords? What of their child? Or…children? Ninth in the Academic Series.

2. Into the Dalek

Into the Dalek

"What I wouldn't give for caffeine," the Professor mumbled as she pulled one of the takeaway cups out of the tray the Doctor was holding of them, inhaling the scent deeply only for him to pull it away with one hand and turn the tray around to offer her one on the corner. She sighed and picked up the cup of decaf tea, some sort of ginger tasting one, it made her grimace to drink, but it was either that or being nauseous the entire day.

The morning sickness had officially kicked in, and even being a Professor, even being an Academic, being a learned woman with a vast knowledge of quite a bit of the Universe…she had NO idea why they bothered to call it that when it struck at nearly every part of the day, not just the morning.

She had contemplated cutting her hair instead of constantly having to hold it back or tie into a bun when the sickness hit, but the Doctor wouldn't hear of it. She was starting to get suspicious that he had done some training while he'd been on Christmas, used what he knew of her own training program that was forced on the Academics, to prepare himself for the battle he knew was coming on Trenzalore. She said this because, within seconds of her reaching the bathroom, no matter where, no matter what part of the TARDIS she was in that the box had to shift rooms around to give her access to a toilet for, the Doctor was there. It was like he sprung into action the moment he felt the illness rise up in her and was at her side, holding her hair back for her, his other hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. They'd struck a deal, so long as he was there to hold her hair back she wouldn't cut it…and he'd been there each time, faster than she'd thought him capable and she wasn't sure if it was that SHE needed him or that he really had tried to train himself to react faster while on Christmas.

Whatever the reason, she was grateful for it.

The Doctor lifted the cup she'd originally taken to his lips and took a deep drink of it, grinning at her as she narrowed her eyes over the lid of her cup at him, he could still have caffeine, even if he didn't need it. SHE, however, was feeling more tired each week and needed the boost, and, of course, SHE couldn't have it. It wasn't fair, but she tried to remind herself that this was for the best. Despite being two different species, Time Lords and Humans were startlingly similar to each other when it came to pregnancy. Both were for about 9 months, both were restricted by the same sort of diets and prohibitations, even with different physiologies they were quite alike.

The Doctor chuckled at her glare, not at all disturbed by it or putoff from it, just setting the takeaway tray down on the console, pressing his cup into it as he made his way around the controls and to her side, his hand coming to rest on her hip as he moved to her other side, keeping his hand there…before thinking better of it and stepping closer to her, allowing his arm access to reach around her and rest on her stomach. It was starting to swell now. It wasn't a huge bump, but it was noticeable, or would be if she wasn't wearing a jacket and utilizing the slimming nature of black clothing in general. But he could feel it and if she took her jacket off and turned to the side he could see it too. It had been about 8 weeks for them since they'd found out that she was pregnant, well for HER. It had been quite a few centuries for him, but for the two of them it was 4 weeks since they'd seen Clara. She'd sent them off to get coffees, had given the Doctor some money for it and they'd just reached the coffee shop when the TARDIS had gone funny and started to make the dematerialization noise, prompting them to run back to it.

It was just a small glitch, not even really a glitch. It seemed like the TARDIS didn't want to land in Scotland now, what with the reminder of Amy and the Doctor's accent, the box didn't want her boy to get any more cross and 'Scottish' than he already was and had wanted to leave. They'd ended up going off, getting caught up in a handful of adventures before they realized they should probably get back to Clara, if not to give her the coffees then to give her her money back. But they'd settled on the coffee because they'd promised Clara them. They were actually just on their way to bring her the coffee now, the coordinates all set and proper for only 3 minutes after they'd left her, enough time for them to have ordered the beverages and paid, she didn't even need to know they'd wandered off if they did this right.

The Doctor had just reached out to pull a lever to send them off towards Clara, when the alarms began to go off, making them look up and then at each other, before hurrying to their half of the console, they'd settled into that, the two of them each taking a side to help pilot better.

The Professor brought the monitor to her, frowning as she saw the visual of what the TARDIS was now heading for, "Dalek saucer," she called to the Doctor, "Seems to be targeting a small space fighter in an asteroid belt."

The Doctor nodded, "Picking up two life-signals within, ooh," he frowned, "ONE life signal."

"Best hurry," the Professor remarked, "The saucer's closing it, it'll strike the ship any second now and it looks like it was designed for co-pilots, it won't be able to avoid the next blast."

"Got it," the Doctor yanked down a lever just as a sound of an explosion blasted on the monitor, the ship that they'd been tracking had been destroyed but…given there was now a young, black woman in army attire, dark padding and armor, lying on the ground, the materialization the Doctor had been working on to have the TARDIS appear around the woman had worked.

The Professor looked up as the Doctor reached across the back of the controls for her hand, tugging her over to him as the woman slowly came around, staring up at the underside of the controls before scrambling up to her feet the moment she saw the two of them standing there. The Doctor barely blinked as the woman pulled a small handgun off her waist and aimed it at them, because within that same second, the Professor reached into a pocket on the inside of her jacket and pulled her trusty blaster out, aiming it back at the woman, creating a stalemate.

"You'll probably feel a bit sick," the Doctor began, "Please, don't be."

"I get sick enough," the Professor agreed, "And the smell would NOT be good for me to get a whiff of at the moment. Bionic smelling, times two now."

And that statement had never been more true. The Academics had undergone surgeries that made their senses heightened, she could smell things others didn't normally, but now, being pregnant it was like that had multiplied and just the thought of the smell of someone's sick made her turn a bit green though her hold on her blaster didn't waver at all…even if she might have wobbled slightly, causing the Doctor to place a hand on the small of her back to steady her.

"Where's my brother?" the woman demanded, as though she thought the blaster being aimed at her were nothing, which either meant that she thought she was the quicker trigger or that she just didn't care, both of which were likely wrong.

The Doctor just ignored that, offering a, "Hello, I'm the Doctor, and this is the Professor…" instead.

"He was right beside me," the woman continued, her other hand coming up to grip the gun, starting to shout at them, "Where's Kai? How did I get here?"

"The Doctor materialized a time capsule exactly around you and saved your life one second before your ship exploded," the Professor explained.

"But do please keep crying," the Doctor rolled his eyes, seeing the tears in the woman's.

All it served to do was make the woman more upset, "My brother's just died."

"He was dead before the materialization," the Doctor responded, making the woman wince, "But his sister wasn't. You're very welcome."

"Now how about you put the gun down," the Professor nodded at her.

"Or what?" the woman's eyes narrowed.

"You DO see the blaster aimed back at you yes?"

"You just saved my life, why would you kill me after? That'd be a waste."

"Why would you threaten to shoot us?" the Doctor shrugged in response to that logic, "Then where would you be?"

"In charge of your vessel."

"You'd starve to death trying to find the light switch."

The Professor eyed her a moment, "Who are you soldier?"

"I'm a Lieutenant," the woman stated.

"Fine, then who are you, Lieutenant?" the Professor amended even as the Doctor moved to open his mouth, likely to respond that the Professor was a higher rank than her.

"Journey Blue of the Combined Galactic Resistance. I demand you take me back to my command ship, the Aristotle, which is currently located…"

"No," the Professor shook her head.

"What?"

"Demand?"

"You will take me back to my command ship, which is currently positioned…"

"No," this time it was the Doctor to give her a rather chastising look, the Professor considering for a moment that, perhaps, this was what it sounded like to tell a child they were acting wrongly without actually criticizing them, it would be good practice for them, "Come on. Not like that. Not like that," he gestured at the gun, "Get it right."

The woman, Journey, slowly lowered her gun, though she kept her gaze locked on them, "Will you take me back to my ship?" she frowned as the two leaned in, tilting their heads to the side nearly in unison, as thought waiting to hear something else, "Please?"

"We shall," the Professor nodded, slipping the blaster back into her jacket pocket as she and the Doctor turned to the console, the Doctor standing more than a bit closer to her, closer than necessary, 'What is it?' she glanced at him, seeing how tensely he was standing, how he was keeping Journey in sight through the corner of his eye.

'She pulled a gun on you,' he stated.

'And I pulled a blaster on her,' the Professor reminded.

'I almost pulled you away again,' he admitted.

But he'd tried, tried to respect her wishes from dealing with clockwork droids and their ship, that she wouldn't put herself in danger nor would she allow herself to be in a position she didn't think she could handle. He was sure, entirely sure, that had they not been in the TARDIS, he really would have pulled her away. It wasn't that it was a state of temporal grace, it wasn't that the guns wouldn't work, it was that if Journey even thought about actually firing her weapon, the TARDIS would teleport her somewhere else…likely out the airlock for threatening or trying to harm her children. He knew that the Professor was entirely safe in the TARDIS, nothing would hurt her here, the TARDIS would protect them but…had it been outside the doors, had they been elsewhere, he truly couldn't say if he wouldn't have tried to pull her back and protect her. He knew this was different than with Clara, there was no one here to protect but him and her, she might have less an issue with him doing it in that situation, but it had taken every ounce of control not to make a move to tug her back when that gun had been lifted at her.

And he could tell that the more she grew, the more noticeable and prominent the evidence of their child became, the worse it would get. Being on Christmas, being around all those children, it made him more protective of the little ones, and then to see the Professor back, to finally have her back with him, he wouldn't lose her or the child, he swore it. The more obvious it became that she was carrying his child, the more, he knew, he'd want to protect her. A father's instinct, a Bonded's instinct, he was sure, but he was trying and if he felt the need to pull her away, if he nearly had, in the TARDIS when she was safe and barely showing…

He would probably need to take her blaster away near the end of it all so that she wouldn't snap and accidently kill him for trying to keep her from nearly being killed.

Because he was very sure that his version of 'nearly being killed' when it came to her would end up being something ridiculous like there was a toothpick in her sandwich she might accidently choke on or someone hugged her too tightly which could mean they trying to strangle her…

He might find himself well and truly dead before his child was even born if the instinct grew more than he could process.

'But you didn't,' her voice came back to him.

'I might one day,' he warned.

The Professor was silent a moment, 'One day I might want you to,' she shrugged.

She couldn't really say, her emotions were all conflicted at the moment. On one hand she was very touched he wanted to protect her like that, on the other she was sure it would drive her mad to have him try to protect her when it had always been HER to protect him. She couldn't tell what the future would hold, if she might start to want him to pull her away, if she might go back on her word and start to think herself more capable than she was. She'd never been pregnant, she didn't know what she'd be like down the line. All she knew was that, at the moment, she really wanted raspberry jello.

The Doctor chuckled silently at that, hearing the way her thoughts had shifted, 'After we get her back, we'll stop and get some,' he promised her in her mind, having discovered that yes, this him COULD cook, which was a very good thing. Perhaps he could use that, use food to distract her if he ever did pull her away and anger her. Pora had always been her favorite treat, he hadn't made it in ages, and he was sure he could use that to bribe her not to get cross with him or at least to forgive him quicker.

"The Aristotle's the big fella parked in the asteroid belt, yeah?" he looked over at Journey, changing his line of thought before the Professor could catch onto his cunning plan.

"It's shielded…" Journey warned as the two got to work on the console.

"More or less," he agreed, moving around to the monitor, looking at a rather large ship that was attached to the side of an asteroid, the TARDIS drawing nearer to it.

The Professor reached out and pulled another lever, materializing them inside the ship, nodding to the door, "Crying's for civilians, Journey Blue," she warned the woman, gesturing for her to go out the doors, "You show a weakness, your enemies WILL exploit it."

Journey frowned at that, watching how the Doctor stepped closer to the Professor, scoffing lightly to herself as she turned to head to the doors. For someone who just implied you should never show the enemy your weaknesses, they both had just revealed their own, each other. She pulled the doors open, not sure what to expect, but gaped when she realized she was back on the Aristotle, in the hanger of the craft, the rest of her crew rushing about on the other end of the room.

She stepped out of the box and looked back at them, wanting to see the ship that had saved her (and let her brother die, she REFUSED to believe that he'd died before the explosion, he wouldn't die on her, not on her), and found herself blinking at the phonebox before her, "It's smaller on the outside."

"It's a bit more exciting when you go the other way," the Doctor remarked as he and the Professor stepped out, curious to see what sort of ship this was that had gotten caught up by the Daleks in their airspace.

"Hold on," the Professor frowned, looking around, recognizing the architecture, "This isn't a battleship. Medical insignia," she pointed at the wall, "It's a hospital," she looked at the Doctor, "More your area than mine."

"We don't need hospitals now," a man called as an older bloke with graying hair and a beard walked over to them, flanked by a soldier on either side of him, having spotted Journey, "The Daleks don't…"

"Leave any wounded, yes we know," the Professor nodded, "They kill all that they don't need alive."

"Yes," the man frowned, eyeing them for their knowledge, "And we don't take any prisoners."

"We saved your little friend here," the Doctor offered, nodding to Journey, "If that's in any way relevant to mention."

"That's true, sir," Journey turned to the man, "They did."

"Thank you," the man gave them a nod as the Professor returned it with a small salute.

"You're welcome," the Doctor glanced around, "We wish we could've done more."

"Then you should have."

The two Time Lords looked over at him for that, "YOU could have too," the Professor pointed out, "What were you thinking, sending out that small a space fighter into the middle of a Dalek fleet? Don't you dare point at us for not doing our part when WE saved YOUR soldier."

"And for that I am personally grateful," the man remarked, "However, the security of this base is absolute. So we're still going to kill you."

"You just try it," the Professor narrowed her eyes at him, taking a threatening step towards the man.

But the Doctor tugged her back, "Excuse the missus," he sighed, winding an arm around her waist and pressing his hand to her stomach, knowing it would remind her and sooth her all at once, "Even more feisty now."

Really, she was, she'd been very calm during the entire event with the clockwork men, save for getting a bit cross with him near the end, he'd expected her to be calmer now, to laugh at what the man had said, the weak threat he'd given, but instead she'd gotten very defensive. Not that he could blame her, he'd wanted to get in the man's face but, in all actuality, he DID think the Professor was far more intimidating, especially pregnant…never ever underestimate a pregnant woman.

"Uncle Morgan, he's a doctor," Journey turned to the man, "And she's…she's pregnant, but she's also a professor of some sort. They could be useful," she tried, "We have a patient, don't we, Uncle? A broken patient that WE don't understand…maybe they could do something about that."

The man, Morgan, glanced at the two aliens at that, then back at his niece, before sighing, "If they can't…"

"Then we kill them," Journey agreed.

"Oh thanks," the Doctor rolled his eyes, "See if we save any of you pudding-brains again."

"This way," Morgan ignored the remark, turning to lead them out of the hanger and towards a small hall.

The Time Lords looked at each other a moment before shrugging and going after them, both of them curious to what sort of patient a hospital could have if they didn't take prisoners or claimed that it was even a hospital any longer.

"Why does a hospital need a doctor?" the Doctor inquired as they followed Morgan and Journey.

"The Aristotle wasn't always hidden," he replied, "The Daleks got here before us."

"You don't like soldiers much, do you?" Journey glanced back at him.

"He married one," the Professor defended, "What does that tell you?" she looked over as they entered a room, more like a laboratory that was being guarded by two more soldiers, "Hang on, that's a moleculon nano-scaler…"

The Doctor looked over to see a very large tube-like container but one that had benches inside it on either side, reminding him very much of the Earth decompression chambers that divers might use, "What have you got one of those for?"

"You know what it does?" Journey glanced at them.

"It's in the name isn't it?" the Professor responded, "It miniaturizes living matter."

"Again, what's the medical application, though?" the Doctor frowned, turning to Morgan, "Do you use it to shrink the surgeons so they can climb inside the patients?"

"Exactly," the man nodded.

"Fantastic idea for a movie. Terrible idea for a proctologist."

"Are you going to miniaturize us?" the Professor shifted her hand over her stomach, not quite fond of that idea.

But Morgan nodded, "You both might come in useful for this."

"How so?" the Doctor stepped closer to the Professor, starting to think that they should have just gotten back into the TARDIS and gone away instead of followed the man.

"You're a doctor, aren't you?" Morgan turned and hit a button on the side of a door, causing them to slide open, "And this is your patient."

The Time Lords stiffened as they were able to make out a familiar, circular glow inside the room, the eerie blue light making it all too obvious what sort of creature was hidden within.

"No," the Doctor shook his head, stepping back, this time unable to help but pull the Professor behind him as they were confronted by a Dalek, chained and tied in as the lights came on to reveal its battered and scratched casing, "You don't understand. You can't put us in there. You cannot put my WIFE in there with that…that monster!"

"Doc…tor?" the Dalek began, its eyestalk shifting slightly to point at him, "Doc…tor."

"How do you know who he is?" the Professor frowned, the last time that any of the Daleks had known had been on Trenzalore, they had taken the information from Tasha, but this Dalek was old, an older make and model, it had to be from before then, before the Daleks had gotten their information on the Doctor back.

"He doesn't," Morgan reassured them, "We promised him medical assistance."

"Are…you…my…doctor?" the Dalek focused on the Doctor.

"We found it floating in space," Journey offered.

"We thought it was deactivated, so we tried to disassemble it," Morgan sighed.

"But you didn't realize there was a living creature inside," the Professor finished.

"Not till it started screaming," Journey agreed.

"Help…me," the Dalek begged.

The Doctor shook his head, his eyes narrowing with hate, "Why would we do that? Why would either of us, any living creature, help you?"

"Daleks will die…"

"Good," the Professor nearly spat, feeling a terrible hatred for the monsters rising in her.

Her last memory of the species was them killing her and attacking the Doctor, was of her dying thinking he'd be dying as well, thinking it was over for the both of them, for their child. THAT was why she was so determined NOT to let any situation come up where the child could be harmed, she'd made the mistake before on Christmas, and her baby had nearly suffered the consequences, she wasn't going to do it again. And she couldn't help but hate the species that had taken them so close to their own, permanent, ends.

"Die all you like," the Doctor nodded, winding an arm around the Professor, seeing where her thoughts had gone, "Not our problem."

But then the Dalek elaborated, "Daleks must be destroyed."

THAT made the Time Lords pause.

"What did you just say?" the Professor shook her head at it.

"Daleks must be…what?" the Doctor frowned.

"All Daleks must die," the Dalek in question began to shake in its chains, rattling them about, its lights coming on, its laser arm and sucker arm wiggling with its eyestalk, as though it were on a mission but being held back by itself and its own malfunctions and low-power, "I will destroy the Daleks. Destroy the Daleks. Destroy the Daleks!"

The Time Lords could only look at each other for that.

That was new.

~8~

The Professor looked up from the console when she heard a gasp to see that Clara had found the TARDIS…and nearly walked into the Doctor as he held the tray of coffees out to her in the doorway. They'd set the box down in a supply cupboard and sent a message to Clara's mobile that they were there and needed to see her. The Doctor, at first, hadn't understood why they'd sent her a text when, if they were in Glasgow only 3 minutes after they'd left her, they could just walk out and find her waiting for them. But then the Professor pointed out that they weren't in Glasgow any longer and he'd accidently set the coordinates for 3 weeks instead of 3 minutes, so Clara was back at her school, being a teacher.

"Where the hell have you two been?" Clara whisper-hissed at them from the doorway.

The Doctor just held up the tray as though it were answer enough, "You sent us for coffee."

"Three weeks ago," Clara deadpanned, "In Glasgow."

"Three weeks, that's a long time…"

"In Glasgow," she repeated, "That's dead in a ditch," she gave the Doctor a more pointed glare, "And that's on top of it being longer for you two."

"How can you tell?" the Professor called, moving around the console to lean on it, facing the door and crossing her arms.

Clara glanced at her, "You tell me ALL the time to use my eyes and notice everything, yeah?"

"Yes…"

"Your cheeks aren't quite as thin as before," Clara pointed at the Professor before gesturing to her own face, "You've put on a bit, just a BIT, of weight and you can tell in your face."

The Professor reached up and put her hands to her cheeks to see for herself before huffing, "Wonderful," that was the LAST thing she needed was others being able to tell she was pregnant.

She was thrilled, over the bloody moon thrilled, that she was pregnant, that it seemed viable this time, that it was sticking and stronger, but that didn't mean she wanted it to be THAT noticeable. Not just yet, because there were two things that could affect everything if she was noticeable. She knew the more visibly she was pregnant, the more that their enemies would try to use it as a weakness…and the more visibly she was pregnant, the worse the Doctor would get in his overprotections. The larger her pregnancy got, then the slower SHE would be and the more difficulty she'd have in functioning and moving and…

Wait…that was three things.

Oh dear lord, she was taking from the Doctor's 10th self, wasn't she? She was terrible at lists.

Well that was just wonderful, the most strategic mind in the galaxies, and her focus and attention was going. She supposed she should have expected it, her head getting crowded with all other thoughts. She'd been distracted in that Mancini's restaurant as well, thinking about food even when they were being threatened. And it was…so unlike her. She was so used to fighting and defending and standing against the enemy that to think she could be standing there and just wondering more about the delicacies of the day instead of what sort of gun was aimed at her was startling. She was more used to ignoring danger to flirt with the Doctor, she really was quite easily distracted by him (even more now with his sort of hint of danger in his stance), but to think she'd be ignoring danger just because there was food around was something else entirely. She wasn't sure she liked it or not.

"How long's it been Doctor?" Clara turned back to him, crossing her arms.

"It's not my fault," he defended, "I got distracted."

"By what?" she asked, raising an eyebrow, before wincing and closing her eyes, shaking her head and holding up her hands to stop him talking, "I don't want to know! I don't! What you and granny do in your spare time I really DON'T want to know and…"

"It wasn't by me, Clara," the Professor laughed as the Doctor sputtered at that, didn't blush but most certainly sputtered, "Not this time. Well," she shrugged, "Not all of it."

"Please stop," Clara half-begged her, "I really, really don't want to know…" it was cuter when they were distracted by each other as 'youngsters' but being older, it was cute in one way but a bit scarring in another, now that she actually could see them as grandparents given their greys and wrinkles.

"Oh, come on," the Doctor rolled his eyes, stepping back to let her into the TARDIS, shutting the door behind her, "Why were you smiling?" he asked, following her up to the console.

"Was I?" Clara glanced at him, "No, I wasn't."

"You were smiling at nothing," he argued, "I'd almost say you were in love, but to be honest…"

"Honest?" Clara paused, frowning at him when he trailed off.

"You're not a young woman anymore."

"Yes, I am," she took the coffee from him and took a very long sip, longer than they knew she would take if she weren't trying to hide something from them.

"Well, you don't look it," he continued as the Professor watched, amused.

"I do look it."

"Oh, that's right, keep your spirits up, Clara."

"Oi!" she huffed, swallowing a mouthful of the beverage, "I AM young Doctor."

"No, you're not," he shook his head, "You don't look a thing like the Professor."

Clara blinked and looked over at the woman who was shaking her head at the Doctor, and back, "She's got graying hair and the start of wrinkles, and you're calling ME old?"

"What is that how you humans determine age?" the Doctor seemed half offended and half intrigued by that.

"More or less."

"Well that's rubbish," the Doctor huffed, "I was 1200 when we first met and I looked younger than you."

"Yeah, well you're an alien."

"Exactly," he pointed, "The Professor's…"

"Careful with your words husband," the Professor called, moving around the console to get the coordinates back to the Aristotle in.

"A youthful woman, in love," the Doctor nodded, "Which is why I would have said YOU were in love as well, you had that look on your face."

"What look?" Clara tried her level best not to flush or think about the new teacher she'd just run into before.

"The look she has when she looks at me," the Doctor smiled across the console to the Professor who winked at him.

"Same look I've had since I was 8," she reminded him.

He nodded, "It's her normal face," he told Clara, "When she's around me. Just like this," he walked past Clara to the Professor's side, pressing a quick kiss to her temple as he passed, "Is my normal face," he smiled lightly at the Professor, his eyes softening as he took her in, "Isn't it, wife?"

The Professor couldn't help but flush a bit at that, they'd seemed to have slipped into calling each other husband and wife instead of 'my dear' and 'my love' like their last selves had. It was nice, that reaffirmation that, even centuries apart (for him), he still considered them married and that close.

"Unless you're cross," she patted his cheek, "Then your eyebrows get all furrowed and threaten to attack."

"Speaking of eyebrows!" the Doctor spun around, nearly startling Clara who didn't realize he meant it in the sense of being reminded of a potential attack to come, and ran to her, "Clara, Clara, Clara, Clara, Clara. Clara, Clara…we need something from you," he told her, coming around the console to face her, "We need the truth."

"Ok," Clara nodded, seeing a seriousness in his eyes as she set her coffee on the console, "Right, what is it? What's…" she paused though, seeing the Professor come back around to the Doctor's side and take his hand, she hadn't seen him really touch anyone but the Professor and he only really did it when he was being sweet in the old-people way, or if he was genuinely worried for her and the tightness in their grip told her it was the second option, "You're scared," she realized.

"I'm terrified," he admitted, looking at the Professor, "We both are."

"Of what? The pregnancy? Are you worried for the baby?"

"Oh beyond bloody terrified," the Professor nodded, "But that's not what he's on about at the moment."

"The answer to my next question," the Doctor looked at Clara, "Which must be honest and cold and considered, without kindness or restraint. Which is why I'm asking you Clara and not my lovely wife…"

"I'm a bit biased," the Professor whispered, as though she were imparting some sort of large secret that secretly amused Clara to hear about, it was the most obvious thing in the world that both Time Lords were biased about each other to the extreme.

"Clara," the Doctor took a breath, squeezing the Professor's hand for strength, "Be my pal and tell me, am I a good man?"

Clara opened her mouth to instantly answer yes, of course he was…only to realize he was truly being serious about it and realizing…this new man that he was, she hadn't been around him long enough to work that out, "I don't know."

"Neither do I," the Doctor swallowed.

It had been bothering him, a notion that had crept up on him in Christmas, when he'd sent the Professor off the second time. Was he doing the right thing? Was he being a good man? Was he protecting her? Or was he being a coward? Was he causing them both more pain than was necessary? Was he hurting her? And then, to regenerate, to see how easily he'd pulled her away from Clara, how willing he'd been to let Clara be harmed so long as he could get the Professor away…WAS he a good man? He wanted to be, for his child, he wanted to be the best man, the best example, whether it was a little girl or boy he wanted to be the best he could be for it…and he didn't know if he was.

The Professor would say he was, the way she was squeezing his hand back at the moment told him she firmly believed that he was. But as much as it pained him to admit, she was biased and she was flawed in her opinions of him…she was flawed in her view of the world as well. Her own time as a soldier in the Time War, everything she'd suffered, oh he would say she was the best woman in the Universe, but he did know that her views on death and violence and fighting had changed because of the War. Save for her 9th self, and her dislike of violence, she'd used it herself, easily…even her 9th self had come to use it as a means of defense and protection, had resorted to it and come to accept it. He would not fault her that, ever, it was forced on her, the Time Lords had made her comfortable with it, with violence and desperate measures, made her cold in her logic when needed. He loved her no matter what though, and he saw the best in her, but it was why she saw the best in him as well…he needed a fresh perspective.

The Professor squeezed his hand once more and turned to pull him back to the console, the two of them getting to work.

"Er, hey," Clara shook her head, stepping after them, "No offence, but I've got plans…"

"Clara…" the Professor looked at her, "We need you."

Clara sighed but nodded, knowing that they wouldn't ask her to come if they didn't, knowing that for the Professor to TELL her that meant it had to be something they really weren't sure they could handle themselves. She couldn't help but think about the Doctor's question, perhaps what they were about to do was what had made him think of it, maybe they were about to confront something that had made them unsure of themselves and who they were and if her grandparents needed her, she'd be there for them, "Right. Where are we going?"

The Doctor reached out and grabbed a switch, "Into darkness."

~8~

Clara tried her best not to smirk as she saw the Professor watching the takeaway cup in her hand with narrowed eyes, guessing that the woman hadn't been able to have caffeine in quite some time. She'd heard the Doctor stating, as the two had walked off to get her a coffee, that she wasn't allowed to have caffeine, something which the Professor had protested about but it seemed like, this time, the Doctor had won the argument, "A good Dalek?" she returned her attention to the Doctor as he finished explaining what they'd stumbled across, a Dalek that actually didn't want to destroy humans but the other Daleks.

"Except there's no such thing," the Professor stated.

"That's a bit inflexible," Clara frowned at her, "Not like you. I'd almost say prejudiced."

"Clara, once you've been to war with them, and encountered them so many times, encountered so many that were 'changed' and only come away with more destruction, you'd be just as prejudiced."

"Do we pay you?" the Doctor asked as he pulled a lever to set the TARDIS down back on the Aristotle, "We should give you a raise."

"You're not my bosses," Clara rolled her eyes, setting her coffee down on the console, "You're one of my hobbies."

"Come on," the Professor nodded towards the doors of the box, the three of them stepping out to see Journey waiting for them.

"That was quick," the woman remarked, eyeing Clara a moment.

"This is gun girl," the Doctor introduced Clara to Journey as he took the Professor's hand and started to lead them off down the hall towards where he recalled the Dalek to be, "She's got a gun, and she's a girl."

"And what's she?" Journey scoffed, nodding at the Professor, recalling how she'd pulled a gun on her as well.

"Professor, wife, mother-to-be, blaster woman, soldier, weapon, tutor…"

"I think she gets it," the Professor cut in, "Clara, this is Journey," she introduced properly, "Journey, this is Clara."

The Doctor looked over as they reached the laboratory where Morgan was waiting for them, still flanked by his soldiers, "Are you the same one as before?"

"Yes," the man nodded.

"I think he's probably her uncle, but I may have made that up to pass the time while they were talking."

"She called him her uncle," the Professor confirmed, "This is Clara."

"Yes, Clara," the Doctor nodded, "Not our assistant. She's, er, some other word…"

"Granddaughter," the Professor supplied at the same time that Clara responded with, "Carer."

"Yes," the Doctor snapped a finger and pointed at Clara, "She cares so I don't have to about anyone other than my wife."

"And Clara," the Professor reminded him.

"And Clara," he agreed, reaching out to hit the button that would open the Dalek's containment room.

"Doc…tor," the Dalek greeted.

The Doctor took a deep breath as he was confronted by the Dalek once more, "Hello again."

"Will you help me?"

Clara frowned, eyeing the chains around the Dalek before she looked at the Time Lords, "Will you?"

"Against our better judgment," the Professor sighed but nodded.

"A Dalek so damaged, it's turned good," the Doctor scoffed, "Morality as malfunction. How do we resist?"

The Professor knew why he was so curious. He'd been nearly ready to pull her away, to run them back to the TARDIS and get them away so that the humans could face this all by themselves. But then he'd discovered the Dalek had turned 'good' because it had been so badly damaged. It had made him curious, what particular damage had it suffered, what was broken in it…and how could they use that to damage the other Daleks? If they could break the others, then they'd be able to turn the rest of them good as well, they might be able to protect the Universe without any more killing.

"Daleks must die!" the Dalek started to wiggle in its chains, "Daleks must die!"

"So, what do we do with a moral Dalek, then?" Clara frowned at it, not very comfortable with anything being declared it must die.

"We get into its head," the Professor muttered.

"Mmm. How do you get into a Dalek's head?"

The Doctor glanced at her, "That wasn't a metaphor."

~8~

The Doctor and Professor were sitting in the nano-scaler, the Doctor sonicing the small bands that were now clipped around their wrists to make sure they were fully functional, Clara outside the scaler being instructed and fitted with her own device by Journey when they looked up to see two more soldiers, a man and woman, enter the nano-scaler.

The Doctor frowned as the two sat down and Journey led Clara in, turning to face the woman in question, "What are those ones for? We don't need armed baby-sitters."

"HE doesn't," the Professor agreed, "He's got me."

"We're not baby-sitters," the young woman across from them spoke.

The man beside her nodded, holding up his gun, "We're here to shoot you dead if you turn out to be a Dalek spy."

"You try to shoot him and you have to manage it before I blast your head off," the Professor narrowed her eyes at him as Clara sat beside her, "Trust me, no one's a quicker draw than me."

"Ross," Journey reached over, putting a hand on the man's arm to still him lifting his gun at her, "She's quick," she told the man quietly, though they could all hear her, "Just…don't, we need their help," she waited till the man lowered his gun again before turning to address the small group gathered in the compartment, "Ok, listen up. Now, remember, do not hold your breath when the nano-scaler engages. You'll feel like you want to, but you must keep breathing normally during the miniaturization process."

"Why?" Clara frowned, leaning over to whisper her question to the Time Lords as Journey moved to sit across from her, next to Ross.

"Ever microwaved a lasagna without pricking the film on top?" the Doctor glanced at her.

"It explodes," Clara responded, before seeing the pointed look that the Professor was giving her, "Right…lovely."

"Nano-scaler engaging," they could hear Morgan's voice over the speakers above them, the Doctor reaching out to take the Professor's hand in comfort, knowing that going into a Dalek shouldn't be that difficult but…well, they were about to be shrunk and picked up to the eyestalk level…that would be quite a height that she'd have to face and, given that she'd always been afraid of heights in every incarnation, this wasn't going to be easy for her, "In five, four, three, two…nano-scaler engaging now."

"Nano-scaling in progress," a computerized voice recited as a beam of light began to flash over them, a sort of compressed feeling settling around them, making them shift in discomfort but forcing themselves to breathe, to just keep breathing, to endure the cramping sensation until there was a small jolt, "Nano-scaling complete."

The Professor let out a breath at that, her free hand moving to her stomach, the others might think she was just settling it, that it was a reaction to being shrunk, but it was more for reassurance that the baby was alright.

"Nano-scaling successful," Morgan called, "Everyone ok in there?"

The Professor winced as the capsule shifted and rocked, rather large tweezers visible through the glass sides and closed her eyes, holding the Doctor's hand tighter, 'Let me know when it's over,' she called in his head.

He gave her a sad smile, it appeared that, while she'd been able to push her fears aside for the most part in past incarnations, this one wasn't quite so good at it. She was trying to avoid seeing the heights by not even looking. He'd noticed her doing the same while they'd been lifted by the booth in Mancini's, she'd closed her eyes for the most part, not dared to look down till they'd climbed out of the booth and onto the main restaurant floor. He leaned over, winding his arm around her and pressed a kiss to her hair , trying to soothe her as the capsule was moved closer to the eerie glow of the eyestalk.

"We made it," Journey reported, "Nobody popped."

"Whoa," Clara stared out the window, seeing the enormous people around her, but knowing they were really normal sized and SHE had shrunk, "Ha. I can't believe this."

"No, neither can I," the Doctor agreed, though his voice was harder, more rough, his eyes focused instead on the glow of the eyestalk instead of the world behind them. He watched in trepidation, feeling the Professor stiffen more and more in his arms as though she knew they were nearly there, as the capsule was pressed through the eyepiece of the Dalek and into the stalk itself.

"We'll be following you all the way, Rescue One," Morgan informed them, "Good luck all of you."

Journey gave a nod to the other soldiers and stood, the three of them heading to the end of the capsule and opening the door to the blue sealed wall that was the film that protected the stalk.

"We're in," the Doctor murmured to the Professor, helping her stand as she opened her eyes to see there was no sign of just how high up they were any longer. He moved his hand to the small of her back and led her towards the blue film as well, holding out a hand to push through it with her, Clara just behind them. The three of them found themselves standing in what appeared to be a tunnel of sorts, the stalk, with the three soldiers ahead of them.

"Integration complete," the computerized voice of the capsule stated behind them, "Dalek levels steady."

"That was weird," Clara shivered, glancing back at the blue film.

"You've seen nothing yet," the Doctor shook his head, the small group starting to walk down the stalk, small pulses of light racing along the edges of the tunnel, away from the film and further into the stalk.

"What are the lights?"

"Visual impulses travelling towards the brain," the Professor stated, "Helping it see."

"Beautiful," Clara smiled at it, but the Time Lords were not so captivated.

"Welcome to the most dangerous place in the universe," the Doctor muttered as they reached the end of the stalk and came to a very large open area with a sort of ledge around the whole of the room, a domed shape above them, with quite a distance below.

"Entering the cranial ledge now," Journey reported back to her uncle and his crew, "Here."

"Oh, my stars," Clara breathed, looking down at the deeper portion of the Dalek's body, seeing a sort of blob below them, tentacles sticking out of it, bathed in a reddish light, turning what should have been a greenish/purple Dalek skin red. There were cables running down along the sides of the walls and the center of the room, connected to it.

"Behold, the belly of the beast," the Doctor reached out and gripped the railing before him tightly, the Professor frowning as she observed the mutant below them.

"It's amazing," Clara whispered.

"It's huge," Ross looked around.

"No, Ross," the other female soldier shook her head, "We're tiny."

"So how big is it, that living part, compared to us, right now?" Clara glanced at them.

"Clara do you see all those cables?" the Professor nodded over at them.

"Yeah."

"They're not all cables."

"Does it know we're here?" Ross shifted his gun, clutching it more tightly as though expecting an attack any moment.

"It's what invited us in," Journey reminded him.

"Doesn't mean it's not a trap," the Professor countered, "Daleks are NOT to be trusted."

The Time Lords looked at each other before turning to try and find some way down into the Dalek, passing a sort of length arch, a semi-tunnel, that had banks and banks of slits with vertical lights shining through them.

"What's this place?" Clara eyed the lights.

"The cortex vault," the Professor answered, "A supplementary electronic brain. Memory banks," she offered when she realized the other humans were staring at her in confusion.

"And how do you know all that?" Ross gave her a suspicious look, how was it that these two strangers knew so much about the Daleks, "You seem to know them inside and out."

"Because there was a war once and it was MY job to be able to destroy them," the Professor told him, "From the inside out if necessary. To do that, you need to understand what lies beneath."

"It's more than just a memory bank though," the Doctor frowned, "This is what keeps the Dalek pure."

"How are Daleks pure?" the female soldier shook her head.

"Dalek mutants are born hating," the Doctor nearly spat, staring at the memory banks with a dark expression, "This is what stokes the fire, extinguishes even the tiniest glimmer of kindness or compassion."

"Imagine the worst possible thing in the universe," the Professor agreed.

"And then don't bother, because you're looking at it right now."

"This is genuine evil refined as engineering," she swallowed hard, sometimes she wondered if the Time Lords had used Daleks as a base for the Academics, engineered them to hate the enemy, to fight, to die, to become monsters themselves to see the war through.

'YOU are NOT a monster,' the Doctor's voice called out in her head, taking her hand and squeezing it.

The Professor took a breath and looked at him, 'Neither of us are,' she added, knowing that he sometimes felt like it, even knowing that he hadn't burned the planet, but that he'd been willing to, made him feel like he was.

"Doctor?" the Dalek's voice called from above them, echoing around them as they stepped past the memory banks and onto another ledge.

"Oh, hello, Rusty," the Doctor looked up, "You don't mind if we call you Rusty? We're going to need to come down there with you. Medical examination, and all that."

"What, with those tentacles and things?" the female soldier frowned, looking over the side to them below.

"How close do we have to get?" even Journey seemed reluctant to get too close.

"You call yourselves soldiers?" the Professor scoffed, "If the mission requires you to drop onto one of them, you do it. You put everything aside and you do as you are commanded, understood?"

Clara frowned at that, knowing how much the Professor had HATED when the Time Lords would command her or give her a mission to do something and expect her to do it. And she had, she'd done it all and it had really scarred her to do it too. And there she was telling them that if the mission called for it, they do it.

"We're never going to insert a thermometer from up here," the Doctor added, rolling his eyes, what did the humans expect would happen really?

Journey nodded and gave Ross a signal, the man turning and to fire a harpoon from a secondary weapon into the ledge without another word.

"What are you DOING!?" the Professor shouted.

"No!" the Doctor reached out to try and stop Ross, "No, no, no, no! Stop, stop, stop, you idiot!"

But Ross just fired another harpoon.

"We need a way down," Journey rolled her eyes at them, "The only way…"

"This is a Dalek, not a machine!" the Professor snapped, "It's a perfect analogue of a living being, and you just attacked it!"

"So what's going to happen now?" the Doctor frowned at them, reaching out to pull the Professor back, away from the humans, away from the man who had launched the harpoons, "What happens when something attacks your body from within?"

"Oh, God," Clara gasped.

"What?" the female soldier turned to her, "What is it?"

Clara just looked at the Time Lords, "Antibodies?"

"Dalek antibodies," the Professor nodded, her gaze locking on something over the humans' shoulders.

They spun around to see small, round objects, like little dark baubles floating in the air, racing towards them. There was a small curve in one side of it, a small camera lens like a scanner affixed there.

"Nobody move," the Doctor stated, stilling.

"Any attempt to help him, or attack the Antibodies, and they will identify you as a secondary source of infection."

"Stay still!"

"But the Dalek wants us in here," Clara whispered, watching in horror as the small baubles turned to surround Ross, "Why is it attacking?"

"Can you control your antibodies?" the Doctor countered.

"Ross, stay calm," Journey warned, "We're going to get you out of this…"

Clara glanced at the Time Lords as they looked at each other at the remark, "Can you?"

'Kata?' the Doctor asked, knowing that, despite him having more encounters with the Daleks, that SHE knew them better than he did.

'I could fire the blaster, take them out,' she offered, 'But more will come, and the humans will panic and attack back. Not even MY blaster would have that much power to take them all out.'

'Then there's nothing,' he realized, 'They'll turn on us as well. Once those get Ross, they'll go to dispose him and the others will come for us.'

'Not if they think we're dead,' the Professor frowned, 'Organic refuse disposal.'

The Doctor's eyes widened at that, nodding and turned to Ross, pulling a small tablet from his pocket and tossing it to the man, "Ross, swallow that."

"What is it?" Ross managed to catch it but froze, the antibodies surrounding him.

"Trust me."

Ross quickly shoved it into his mouth, swallowing the pill, "Now what?"

"Clara look away," the Professor reached out to turn Clara around just as the antibodies struck Ross with a beam of light, disintegrating him.

"Ross!" Journey cried, making Clara turn back.

"Oh, my God," Clara grimaced as the antibodies drifted around the ashes that were still scattered in the air, sucking them up, "What's it doing?"

"The hoovering," the Doctor stated.

"Don't. Move," the Professor reminded them, waiting till the antibodies had started to fly away before grabbing the Doctor's sonic out of his pocket and flashing it on, "Got it!"

"What did you give him?" Clara turned to the Doctor.

"Oh, just a spare power cell," he reached out and took the sonic from the Professor, "But we can track the radiation signature."

"We needed to know where they dump the bodies," the Professor explained.

"I thought you were saving him!" Journey hissed.

"Did we say we were doing that?" the Professor glanced at her, "Don't make assumptions in the middle of a battle, Journey, it will get you killed. Especially if you don't even understand your enemy."

"He was dead already," the Doctor added.

"But his sacrifice will help save US," the Professor nodded, "Now come on."

"Run!" the Doctor agreed, taking the Professor's hand and leading them down the halls, hearing the buzzing of other antibodies behind them, gaining on them as they ran down the halls, stopping short as they reached a hole cut into the ledge, "They've dumped him in here."

"The organic refuse disposal," the Professor nodded.

"We need to get in there."

"Why?" Clara shook her head.

"That's why," the Professor pointed behind them as the antibodies reached them, the two remaining soldiers firing at them, making them more angry.

"Those antibodies won't give up until we're inside there," the Doctor agreed, "I'd rather go in alive than dead."

"You don't know where it goes!" Journey shouted.

"We know more than you," the Professor argued, "I've studied the Daleks, I KNOW where it goes."

"And I trust her, now in!" the Doctor moved to push Clara into the hole first, every instinct telling him to push the Professor but…well, another, smaller, darker voice in his head told him that if Clara went in first, the Professor would have more time to assess what was down there, if anything was, because it would focus on Clara first, "In! In!" he reached out, helping the Professor down into it after Clara.

"I can hold them off!" the female soldier cried, shoving Journey back towards the hole and falling into it.

"No, you can't," the Doctor reached out and grabbed the woman's arm, flashing the sonic at the bots to give them time, "Pull back. Down. Jump!" he shoved her down the hole before quickly jumping in after her, sliding down the refuse tunnel and into a pool of liquid at the bottom.

"Urg," Clara grimaced, "What is this stuff?"

It was rank and thick and slimy and clinging to them.

"People," the Professor tried not to breathe through her nose, but it was impossible, that horrid, pungent smell was everywhere.

"The Daleks need protein," the Doctor tried to slosh his way over to his wife, seeing her half-gagging on the smell, "Occasionally, they harvest from their victims. This is a feeding tube…"

"Is Ross here?" Journey looked around, as though expecting to see him floating somewhere.

"Yeah. Top layer, if you want to say a few words."

Journey lashed out at that, grabbing the Doctor just as he'd nearly reached the Professor and slammed him against the wall, "A man has just died. You will not talk like that."

The Doctor glared at her for stopping his quest to his wife, "A lot of people have died," he told her darkly, "Everything in here is dead, and do you know why that's good?"

"There is nothing good about that!"

"I agree," the Professor managed to get out before she turned and emptied the contents of her stomach into the refuse beside her, the Doctor at her side in an instant without hardly a splash, helping to keep her hair away from her face despite the fact it was already covered in the refuse liquid.

"Shh…" the Doctor tried to soothe her, rubbing her back and curling her hair around his other hand, "I'm sorry… come on," he tried to move her to the side as she coughed and retched, trying to get her farther away from the main pit so that the smell wouldn't be so strong and overpowering, "Almost there," he managed to get her onto a small platform off to the side, that led to more tunnels, hopping up beside her hand hurrying her down it, leaving the others to have to scramble to follow, "Deep breaths, through the mouth, that's it…"

The Professor gasped, reaching up to pinch her nose with one hand, her other on her stomach, "That was…awful…" she moaned, feeling the bile start to rise in her throat again and trying to push it back down, trying not to think of the smell, trying to use her training to block it out, to make her not smell it, but it wasn't working as well as it used to, "I'm gonna be sick again…" she nearly gagged.

The Doctor pulled out a somehow-clean handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her to cover her nose and mouth with, to help filter the smell as Clara ran up, "Is she ok?"

The Doctor just gave her a look like 'of course she's not!' before he shook his head, "Nothing is alive in here," he explained, "So logically this is the weakest spot in the Dalek's internal security. Nobody guards the dead. Mortuaries and larders, always the easiest to break out of. Oh, I've lived a life," he muttered.

"Report back," the Professor mumbled through the cloth, looking at Journey weakly, "You've been too long and the scans would pick up the hostile activity."

Journey nodded and lifted her comm. to her lips as Clara moved to the Professor's side as well checking on the woman, "Rescue One to Mission Control."

"This is Blue, Rescue One," Morgan responded, "Report."

"The Dalek has an internal defense mechanism. We've lost Ross."

"What kind of defense mechanism? That thing knows you're in there to help it."

"Yeah, well, who knows? It's a Dalek," Journey glanced at the Professor, recalling her words not to ever trust one, "We're going to continue the mission."

"Are you alright?" the Doctor asked the Professor as she managed to stop shuddering, as her skin began to regain some of its color.

She nodded, "Just…we need to get away from this stench."

She'd thought she could handle it, when she'd suggested the refuse, she'd thought she could. It was logical, it made sense, the smell of the refuse would cover their scent from the antibodies, they'd scan them and assume they were just the dead and were no threat. It was also a place they wouldn't bother to check as well, because there was NOTHING living down there, it was all dead. She knew the stench would be foul, she could still remember the smell of the refuse in the Star Whale on the Starship UK, and that was just organic components and food, she knew it would be worse being actual humans. But she thought it wouldn't be that bad, she really had thought she could handle it or ignore it but it appeared her sense of smell really was twice as strong as before and before she knew it she'd gotten a mess of it up her nose and it just made her ill.

"This way," the Doctor moved over to a vent of some sort, using the sonic to get the panels off and leading them through, ushering the Professor in first, "Are you alright back there?" he called as they went on, glancing back at Clara and the other women, "It's a bit narrow, isn't it?"

"Any remarks about my hips will not be appreciated," Clara grumbled.

"Ach, your hips are fine. You're built like a man."

"Thanks," Clara nearly hissed.

"Narrower than my hips at the moment, Clara," the Professor reminded her before wincing as she imagined what that would be like once she was full term, she'd be as big as a house! As big as the TARDIS!

'And never more beautiful,' the Doctor assured her in her mind, making her grateful he was behind her as she blushed.

She'd wanted to make him blush, had been trying to recently, see if he actually was a blusher like his last self, but it turned out…

SHE was the blusher of the two of them now.

~8~

The Professor and Doctor helped Clara out from the small tunnel, up into the next room they'd found themselves in, only for an odd noise to reach them that sounded like crackling static with a bit of a pitchy noise to it.

"What's that noise?" the Doctor looked around.

"You…" the Professor pointed at the female soldier.

"Gretchen, ma'am," the woman answered.

"Are you wearing a Geiger counter?"

Gretchen nodded, gesturing to her armor, "Standard battle equipment. That's just…"

"Low level radiation," the Professor nodded, "Yes, we know," before she turned to the Doctor, "We need to make some Rontgen Bricks," she told him, recalling how they were quite common toys on Gallifrey for children, for babies and toddlers.

"We need to make a nursery first," he countered, first the room, then the items that would fill it. He moved over to a series of large circuit boards that were just across from them, "Can I have the counter?"

Gretchen hesitated but, upon a nod from Journey, handed it over to him.

"The radiation's stronger down here," the Professor nodded, her hand on her stomach. It wasn't dangerous for them, not this sort of radiation, the humans…maybe, if it got much stronger, but for now it was relatively safe. Relatively as in the Dalek would likely kill them before the radiation could.

"Was that them?" Morgan's voice came over Journeys' comm., "How're they working out?"

"It's hard to say," Journey began, eyeing them, "They're…"

"I've got it," the Doctor cut in, getting the counter to go off as he flashed it over the circuits, "I know what's wrong with Rusty."

"Ok, that's good," Clara nodded, "Is that good?"

"Well," he shrugged, "You know how we said this was the most dangerous place in the universe? We were wrong. It's way more dangerous than that," he turned and held up the counter for them to see the levels were going up.

"Colonel," Journey reported, "We have radiation indicators red-lining in here. Could be that the Dalek is badly damaged than we thought."

"Copy that," Morgan called.

"The Dalek's suffering a trionic radiation leak," the Professor looked around, "It's being poisoned."

"It and us," the Doctor frowned at that, "Just as well we're here."

"Really?" Journey gave them a look, "Perhaps we should get out while we can."

"You're going to abort the mission?" the Professor scoffed.

"Why should we trust a Dalek?" Journey threw her own words back at the Professor, "Why would it change?"

"Good question," the Doctor nodded, looking up, "Rusty? What changed you?"

"I saw beauty," the Dalek responded.

The Professor blinked at that, "You saw what?"

"In the silence and the cold, I saw worlds burning."

"That's not beauty, that's destruction," Journey frowned.

"I saw MORE."

"What?" the Doctor asked, "What did you see?"

"The birth of a star."

"But stars are born every day," the Professor argued, "You've seen a million stars born and destroyed millions more."

"Yes," the Dalek agreed, "Daleks have destroyed stars…and yet, new stars are born. Resistance is futile."

The Professor tensed at that, glancing at the Doctor before asking, "Resistance to what?"

"Life returns. Life prevails. Resistance is futile."

The Doctor slowly nodded, "So you saw a star being born," he reached out for the Professor, lightly taking her hand and tugging her closer, trying his hardest not to let his other hand touch her stomach, thinking of another life that was being born even now, "And you learned something. Oh, Dalek, do not be lying to me," he glanced at the Professor a moment, before turning to the others, "Come on," and leading them off.

"We need to find the Trionic Power Cells," the Professor told them, "Repair those and the Dalek's safe."

"Heading for the Trionic power cells, Colonel," Journey reported to her uncle as they left the room.

"Radiation approaching two hundred Rads," Morgan reported, "Danger levels."

"You'll be safe so long as we're not too long," the Professor promised, stepping into a room with the Doctor, finding themselves directly under the Dalek mutant.

"We're at the heart of the Dalek," the Doctor breathed, staring around at the power structure.

There were pillars and columns throughout the room, everything in a rusty yellow light, with thick tubing cluttered round. Energy whizzed past above them, crackling around the Dalek, feeding it, keeping it going.

"It's incredible," Clara breathed.

"Geiger counter's off the scale," Journey noted, nodding at the counter in the Doctor's hand, "Looks like it's about to blow."

"Good," the Doctor nodded.

"How is that good?"

"Well, I like a bit of pressure," the Doctor shrugged.

"We always did work best when it was a deadline in place," the Professor agreed and really, it was probably best that they were both like that, best under pressure, meant that, when they had their child, they'd be better able to handle panicky situations…hopefully.

"Rusty, can you hear me?" the Doctor called up to the Dalek.

"Doctor?" it responded.

"Rusty, we've found the damage. I'm sealing up the breach in your power cell," the Doctor moved over to the wall where a large crack had split down the side of one, allowing a blinding white light to shine through it. He flashed the sonic along it, sealing the crack back up, "No more radiation poisoning. Good as new. There. Job done."

"That's it?" Clara blinked, "Just like that?"

"An anti-climax once in a while is good for my hearts," the Doctor patted his chest, not about to admit that being chased by the antibodies and then the Professor getting so violently ill had been more than enough of a start to his hearts to last him weeks on end, "Rusty? How do you feel?" but there was no response, "Rusty? Rusty? Rusty…"

"The malfunction is corrected," the Dalek stated.

Journey frowned, looking at the Time Lords, not sure why the Dalek had taken so long to respond, unable to shake the feeling that something was wrong, "What's happened?"

"Not…entirely sure," the Professor admitted, looking around as the lights began to brighten and glow stronger.

"It's like it's waking up."

"Doctor…" the Professor reached out to him, tensing, and he knew that something was wrong, he could sense it in her, her instincts were telling her something was wrong and, after so long in the middle of a battlefield, he could admit…his own instincts were on alert too.

"Rusty, come on, talk to us," the Doctor called, "What's going on?"

"The malfunction is corrected," the Dalek repeated, "All systems are functioning. Weapons charged."

"Oh, no," the Professor shook her head, realizing what was going on.

"Exterminate!" the Dalek began to shout, the room shaking around them as it began to move, "Exterminate!"

"No, no, no!" the Doctor shouted, but the cries of 'Exterminate!' continued.

"Colonel?" Journey grabbed her comm., hearing the Dalek going off about killing the rebels, "What's happening out there?"

But there was just static.

"What happened?" Clara rounded on the Time Lords.

"Do you see?" the Doctor scoffed in reply.

"Do I see what?"

"Daleks don't turn good," the Professor told her, "All it was was radiation affecting its brain chemistry."

"Let me get this straight," Journey rounded on them, tears in her eyes, knowing what that static had to mean, the Dalek was attacking the base, "We had a good Dalek, and we made it bad again? That's all we've done?"

"There was never a good Dalek," the Professor argued, "It was a broken Dalek that we repaired."

"You were supposed to be helping us!" the woman accused.

"We gave it a shot," the Doctor defended, moving to the Professor's side, narrowing his eyes at Journey for how the woman was shouting at them, this was not the ideal situation by any stretch of the imagination and he would NOT have someone shouting at his wife, "It didn't work out. It was a Dalek, what did you expect?"

"No more talking," Journey decided, "You are done! Ok, new objective. We are taking this Dalek down!" she turned to Gretchen, the two going over their resources as Clara looked over at the Time Lords with a frown on her face.

"Oh and what's that look for?" the Doctor demanded.

"It's the look you get when I'm about to slap you!" she reached out, about to slap him, when the Professor grabbed her wrist.

"Calm down Clara," the Professor ordered.

"How can I?" Clara cried, "Are we going to die in here? And just LOOK at him," she gestured at the Doctor who, even now, had a little hint of a grin to him, "I mean, there's a little bit of him that's pleased. 'The Daleks are evil after all. Everything makes sense. The Doctor is right.'"

"He's not grinning cos fo that," the Professor defended, "Daleks are evil, it's indisputable, he's grinning for something else."

"What?"

Before either Time Lord could answer, Journey spun to them, "We need to place these charges for maximum effect," she held up a handful of small cylinders, "I'm going to scan the rest of the architecture for weaknesses."

Clara shook her head as the two women quickly set about placing the small bombs on any available surface and turned back to the Time Lords, "Why did we come here today? What was the point? You…you thought, you hoped, there was a good Dalek. But why? What difference would one good Dalek make?"

"More difference than you know Clara," the Professor sighed, "And THAT's why he's grinning."

"You!" the Doctor pointed at Journey as the woman lowered her comm., having just spoken with Morgan, some sort of conversation they hadn't heard over Clara's shouts, "Whatever you're going to do, don't do it. This Dalek must not be destroyed. We can do better."

"Are you out of your mind?!" Journey demanded.

"No, we're inside a Dalek. I'm standing where I've never been. We cannot waste this chance. It won't come again."

"What chance? I have my orders," she lifted the comm. as though it were excuse enough to ignore him and keep going.

"Soldiers take orders," the Professor began.

"And I'm a soldier," she nodded.

"This Dalek?" the Professor gestured around, "Is a better soldier than you will ever be. But you know what?"

"What?" Journey asked, tears in her eyes at the blow that her last moments as a soldier might not be enough to do anything.

"I'M a better one than it is," the Professor smiled.

"And she outranks you," the Doctor added, nodding, "I guarantee you, she outranks all of us here so…commanding officer," he smiled at the Professor, "What are we going to do?"

Her smile morphed into a grin, "Exactly as you said, better."

~8~

The small group of women and the Doctor climbed up a ladder to the inner casing of the Dalek as quickly as they could, the Doctor bringing up the rear as the Professor insisted on going first, the man wanting to keep an eye on Journey and Gretchen incase they decided to attack from behind.

"What exactly are we doing?" Journey demanded once they were all up and out of the small shaft they'd made their way up from.

"The Dalek isn't an angry blob in a Dalekanium tank," the Professor explained, "If it was, the radiation would have turned it into even more of a raging lunatic than it already is."

"Yes," the Doctor pointed at her, "For a moment, it wasn't a raging lunatic."

"The radiation allowed it to expand its consciousness, to consider things beyond its natural terms of reference."

"It became good."

"That means a good Dalek is possible, even if it's a…a glitch in the system."

"But it's been fixed," Journey shook her head, "Now it's back to how it was."

"But what it saw, what it felt, is still there," the Doctor explained.

"Yeah," Journey frowned, "I'm not really seeing that."

"Not here. There," he pointed upwards, towards his temple.

"Its memory banks," the Professor nodded.

"The cortex vault?" Journey gave them a look for that.

"You said that was the central place for the evil engineering," Clara reminded them, "How is that gonna save us?"

"The memory banks are an automatic record of every moment the Dalek experienced," the Professor began quickly, Clara blinking as she began to speak nearly as fast as the last Doctor had.

"Some suppressed," the Doctor agreed, "But all still intact."

"We need to show the Dalek that star being born again, recreate that moment."

The Doctor pointed at Clara, "You need to get up there, find that moment and reawaken it."

"Me?" Clara shook her head.

"Yes, you," the Doctor snapped his fingers, as though CLARA had been the one to suggest it, "Good idea."

"No, no," the Professor shook her head, "Me."

"No, Clara," he turned to her, "That's Clara."

The Professor blinked at him, "I'm aware," she told him, giving him a pointed look, letting him know that feigning the confusion he'd felt after regeneration wasn't going to work on her, "But of the lot of us, I'D have the better chance of recognizing the memory we need, and I know how to activate it."

"How?"

"Oh no," she shook her head, "Not saying it, not thinking of it. So if you want that memory back, I have to be the one to activate it, NOT Clara."

"I CAN do it," Clara tried to offer, seeing the Doctor's frowny face getting more deep set.

"I'm better trained," the Professor shook her head, "I can handle myself better, I can move faster," she turned to the Doctor, "I can do it and…I should NOT be the one to face that Dalek."

"Why not?" he asked her quietly, seeing that there was more than reluctance in her eyes, more than just a desire not to be the one to do it, but a purpose behind her words.

"You've been around them more, but…I have worse memories of them," she reminded him softly, thinking about all the training, the war, her regeneration into her war-self, the battles and death, her studies of them, her feelings of them the last time she saw them, "If we do this, the Dalek will be suggestible to new ideas. I can't be the one up there or it will feel nothing but hatred again," she smiled sadly at that, "You always were the optimistic one of the two of us."

"Not always," he countered, all through their schooling, before the war, she'd been his optimistic Kata, it wasn't till after the war that she started to be more pessimistic, something he doubted would ever change.

"But NOW," she argued, squeezing his hands, "It can't be me. I'll get its mind open, and you show it something that will change its mind forever. You've seen more than enough to do it."

It wasn't just that...it was that...she needed to move, she needed to do something, be active. She couldn't just stand there and talk to a Dalek, not after all this. That refuse...the way her body had reacted without her say so, it just reminded her that she was pregnant. Soon enough she'd be fat and large and slow and barely able to move and she needed this, she NEEDED to do something, be active for as long as she could before she was too big to fit into tiny places and squat down to get close to something. She didn't want to stand there and talk a Dalek down, yes she'd been in Intergalactic Relations, it was her job to do that, but she didn't want to this time. She couldn't, she'd say something wrong or think the wrong thing and she needed to be able to use her mind while it was still able to focus and not sluggish from lack of sleep or irritated. She wanted to be able to DO something instead of just stand there and talk about it. The day would come where that would be all she could do and that day was NOT today.

He swallowed hard but looked at Clara, "You keep an eye on her," he ordered her.

"Yes sir," Clara gave him a mocking salute, as though she would have EVER just let the Professor go and do it alone, she'd be right there, helping.

"This is crazy," Journey cut in, shaking her head, "There is no way that we can get back up there in time."

"Yes, there is," Gretchen murmured, pulling out a secondary harpoon gun of her own.

"No, Gretchen. It'll bring the antibodies back down on us!"

Gretchen ignored her, turning to look at Clara, "Tell me the truth. Are they mad, or are they right? I've come this far. Probably going to die anyway. Wouldn't mind something to do for the rest of my life. Are they mad, or are they right?"

"Hand on my heart?" Clara took a breath, "Most days he's mad and she's right…so yeah, they're right."

And she was REALLY hoping she was right about that, that it wasn't another thing like with Ross, where it was hopeless and they'd had to be sneaky and clever to keep her and the others from freaking out and attacking and making it worse.

"One question, then," Gretchen turned to look at the Time Lords, "Is this worth it?"

"If we can turn one Dalek, we can turn them all," the Doctor nodded, "We can save the future."

If they could do this without the radiation leak, if they could manage it without needing that influence…then there might be hope they could stop the rest. And the hope was what did it, what made it worthwhile.

"Gretchen Alison Carlisle," she told them, "Do something good and name it after me."

The Professor smiled a bit, they already had, in a way, they'd named a Galaxy 'Alison' once, hadn't…actually, they hadn't known WHY they'd done it. They'd found a little note posted beside the device that would record the name of it after they'd rescued it, it had been signed from them, requesting that they name it 'Alison' and hadn't really thought much of it. It was a nice enough name, and they were already stumped on what to call it, and had gone with it. She actually hadn't thought much of it till right now, hadn't even realized that perhaps, the future thems that had left the message, were THIS incarnation and not their lasts. She hadn't realized while they'd been on Christmas that it was a sign that they'd both survive, hadn't even considered it, it was such a small thing.

But it appeared they had a stop to make after all this was over, drop themselves a little note from the future.

"We will do something amazing," the Professor nodded, "We promise."

"Damn well better," the woman huffed, lifting the harpoon up.

"No, Gretchen!" Journey called, but it was too late, she'd already fired three wires up to the Cranial Ledge in a row.

"Go!" the woman pushed them on, turning to face the antibodies as they began to whiz towards them, descending from above.

"They're coming," Clara gasped, "They're coming!"

"You," the Doctor pointed at the Professor as Journey hurried to fasten the pulley systems to the three wires, "Be careful wife."

"Always am, husband," she smiled at him, grabbing one of the pulleys with the other women, "You as well."

The Doctor gave her a nod, watching as the pulley's activated, sending her, Clara, and Journey up. He looked at Gretchen as the woman fired at the antibodies, distracting them from him for a moment before hurrying way, trying to ignore the sound of her screams just as he made it out of sight.

~8~

The moment the Professor's feet touched down on the Cranial Ledge, she was off towards the memory banks.

"So what do we do?" Journey called as she and Clara followed after her at a run.

"You see those lights?" the Professor pointed at a few that were off, heading to a small panel on the side of the banks and leaning over to try and pry it off the wall, Clara hurrying to help her, "The ones that are off are suppressed. Chances are one of them is the star."

"What if the bulbs just need changing?" Clara offered, though there was a joking smile on her face.

The Professor glanced at her, "You two stay here, keep a look out, watch out for the antibodies," she pulled off her jacket and tossed it to Clara, gathering up her hair and literally tying it into a knot behind her head.

"Hold on," Clara reached out to grab her arm as the Time Lady turned to try and climb through the open panel, "You shouldn't be doing that!"

"Clara…"

"No," Clara tried to get closer, "I can do this, it's…it's cramped in there," she pointed, "It's cramped and small and you'll have to crawl through it and…"

"And what?"

"And you're pregnant!" Clara whisper-hissed at her.

"Clara…" the Professor gave her a sad look, "I've been trained for this, I know how to crawl without pressing my stomach to the ground, believe me…the Time Lords made sure we knew how to handle ourselves."

~/~\~

The training facility was rather…complex. None of the Academics knew how it was possible that the High Council had been able to build such a facility, partly underground, without anyone noticing or bringing it up, but then again they supposed it was the nature of the High Council to keep things hidden and to prepare for the worst and prepare they had. It was filled with every sort of room they could think to use. There were rooms reserved for mental conditioning, for punishment, for hand to hand combat, for weapons, for obstacles…everything anyone could need to build an army…and that was exactly what they were doing.

She swallowed hard as she waited at the end of an obstacle course that had been designed. It moved. It shouldn't move, but it did, it hadn't always but now it did. At first it was just hurdles and walls that had to be climbed, nets and boxes to jump over and duck behind. But then it started to move, the walls began to tilt on angles, the hurdles would grow higher, the nets start to sink the more you tried to climb up it so that you had to be faster than the fall. It was automated now, fully, always shifting, never the same design. She knew it was never the same, they all compared their notes about it but there had yet to be a pattern found. Nothing was ever predictable and that made it harder…because that was what the war would be, unpredictable.

And they had to be able to determine what to do when something changed drastically, because thinking on your feet was the difference between life and death in the middle of a battlefield.

She winced as a piercing noise echoed through the room, signaling for her and her competition to start the course. She ran, her legs moving before her mind even caught up with the fact that she was moving. She hated that, she hated reacting that instantly, it meant that her body wasn't hers anymore but what THEY wanted it to be, a machine meant to fight. But if she even tried to delay it a moment, then she'd be sent to the Core, the worst torture/punishment room in the facility and she didn't want that, not again.

She was halfway up the netting when she realized what she was doing. She'd rushed down a ramp, rolled through a laser that had fired just as she hit the bottom of it and was now scrambling up the net, trying to ignore the smell of burned flesh from beside her. Her competition hadn't been quick enough to drop down, their leg had gotten burned. But she couldn't even think of that, couldn't let herself consider them, try to help them, couldn't risk slowing down or she'd be punished. So she focused on the net, focused on getting up it as it slowly started to lower. She let go of her leg, stopped using them and only climbed with her arms, using them to haul her entire body up. It was easier that way. The feet got tangled and when they tried to push up they never did as much as the arms pulling.

She reached a small ledge near the top and ran for it, jumping at the last second as the floor dropped out beside her, rolling once she hit the other side, leaping to her feet and grabbing the small pulley that was attached to a wire at the end, carefully maneuvering herself to slide down it, dropping to the ground and running on, not even stopping, not looking back. You had to get through it and you had to get through it fast and first to avoid punishment. She felt guilt surge in her as she heard a grunt behind her, the competition landing from their own pulley, pushing herself faster, needing to be through first even it if meant the other one was punished for failing to win.

She dove into a small cut in the floor, into the water that had filled the small pool and swam as fast as she could, not trusting to come up for air until her lungs were burning for air, but by then, the adrenaline pushing her, she'd made it to the other side and hauled herself out of the pool, running on, ignoring the sopping wet trail she was leaving behind her. That would get her a minor punishment though. She didn't understand what the Council wanted her to do. They were punished if they left a trail, because the enemy could follow it, but there was literally NO way to stop the water once you were soaking wet, a trail happened no matter what.

She nearly sobbed as she saw the end of the course, there was just one more, a small sort of tunnel that had been carved out. More like the floor had just a very narrow, flat part cut from under it. She dropped to her knees, using her elbows to drag herself through it, crawling as fast as she could, shifting her legs so that her feet were helping propel her faster…

Only to scream as something tore into her stomach.

She scrambled up more, onto the tips of her knees and elbows and scrambled on, faster, feeling a stinging sensation on her front, feeling the water seeping into it…and realized the water was salty, it made her front burn even more than it did.

It wasn't till she'd made it to the other side, till she saw that her competition had been smart enough to go in on their knees and elbows instead of flat on theirs stomach that she realized what happened. She could see the competition sprinting for the end of the line, the red flecks falling to the stark white floor from where their elbows and knees were cut and blood seeped out.

She looked down at her stomach, sitting there on her knees, knowing that there was no way she could get up and win, if she could even finish. She flinched thinking of not finishing and pushed herself up, her hand wrapping around her middle, trying to ignore the warm oozing blood that was seeping out between her fingers as she struggled to at least finish. There had been something jagged in there, like broken glass or scarps of metal, shards of something that cut right into her stomach and chest as she tried to get across it and ended up cutting herself because she was too close to the ground. Her entire front was soaked in red by the time she made it to the end of the course, collapsing back to her knees, her body going numb before she even realized two of the guards had grabbed her arms to drag her over to one of the trainers, too weak from the blood to even notice…

Till the man pressed his hand against her stomach, twisting his hand to make the wounds feel worse, open wider.

"Let this be a lesson," the man spat in her face.

All she could do was bow her head and nod, her body trembling as it started to go into shock, the guards turning to drag her out of the room and to the infirmary.

She would NOT make that mistake again.

~/~\~

"Trust me Clara," the Professor swallowed, shaking her head from her thoughts, "My stomach will be fine, and I'll still be quicker than you."

Clara bit her lip but nodded, draping the Professor's coat over her arm as the woman tucked into the small compartment.

The Professor took a breath and began to move as speedily as she could down the small, cramped section behind the memory banks, needing to get to the ones that were darkened.

~8~

"Well, Rusty," the Doctor called as he managed to make his way up to the Dalek, literally right before its single eye, standing on a small platform that ran across it, needing to distract the Dalek as well as speak to it, "Here we are. Eye to eye."

"You cannot save the humans," it stated, "They will be exterminated. I shall join the Dalek units in the final attack."

"I saved your life, Rusty," the Doctor reminded it, "Now my wife and I are going to go one better. We're going to save your soul."

"Daleks do not have souls."

The Doctor hesitated in saying what he wanted to, that he fully agreed with the monster, but he needed it to think that he thought there was something worth saving, and he HAD to make the Dalek believe that, "Oh, no? Imagine if you did. What then, Rusty? What would happen then?"

~8~

"Professor?"

The Professor looked back, hearing Clara call to her from back where the panel had opened, "I'm in the cortex, Clara," she reached out and banged on the wall so Clara would know how far in she was. She quickly scuttled a few more feet to a dark section, "Activating the first suppressed memory," she called, before slamming her hand on the panel, turning it on.

~8~

The Doctor frowned when he looked over to see a flash of light coming towards them, towards a visual screen behind him, one that was meant to be connected to the eyestalk but was not receiving the suppressed memories.

Soldiers, dying.

"Your memories," the Doctor gestured at them, "We're about to give some back to you."

~8~

"Light's on!" Clara cheered through the wall, "Everything alright?"

"Yes," the Professor looked ahead, making out the next dark panel and heading for it, "Keep in mind, Clara, it's a brain. Electrical pathways link up memories, the more panels that light, the more memories it has."

"So it's not the bulbs then?" Journey asked, though the Professor could detect a hint of a laugh in the woman's voice, relief.

~8~

"See, all those years ago, when I began," the Doctor turned, flashing the sonic on a small bit of flexible tubing at his feet, some covered by a set of neurons that had grown over it, "I was just running. Running from someone I thought I'd hurt, turns out…I'd hurt her more by running than I did in what came before it," he sighed, "I went out into the universe, called myself the Doctor, but it was just a name, a name my wife had given me actually. But then…then I went to Skaro. And I met you lot and I understood who I was. The Doctor was not the Daleks."

~8~

"You'd better get a move on!" Journey shouted through the wall, "There's company coming."

"Antibodies?" the Professor called.

"Yeah!" Clara shouted.

"Don't MOVE," the Professor reminded them, "And don't fire your weapons. Clara keep her from doing something stupid."

"Got it!" Clara replied as the Professor moved on, reaching the second dark panel and slapping it, illuminating it.

~8~

The Doctor glanced back, seeing another set of images, this time of the Daleks flying through space, attacking the Earth, he could recognize the timing, it was when they'd stolen the Earth. His jaw tensed at the memory of who he and the Professor had been then, of what had led to it, of Rose and the Professor and the Professor's death…

He shook his head and focused back on the wires he was working on, "Oh, look," he mumbled, "It's your memories again. It's like somebody's mucking about up there. Memories, all those memories. Do you remember the star you saw being born?"

~8~

"One more panel!" the Professor shouted to the others, listening intently for any sort of sound that indicated the antibodies were attacking, but so far it was silent.

"Hurry up!" Journey snapped, "Just hurry up."

"This better be it," the Professor muttered, slamming her hand down on the very last suppressed memory in the bank, waiting with baited breath as the lights flickered just after the panel lit up.

"You did it!" Clara cheered, "It's rebooting. The antibodies are going away!"

The Professor let out a relieved breath at that, letting her head fall back onto her arm a moment, "I'm on my way back," she told them, starting to shuffle backwards as fast as she could, looking over her shoulder as she went.

~8~

The Doctor couldn't help but grin when he saw the memory that was playing now, the star being born and, even in a Dalek memory, it really was a beautiful sight. Well, beautiful enough, he was quite sure there was at least one birth on the horizon that would be able to top that, to top them all…and he was determined to see it happen, when his child was born, he'd be right there to witness it.

"I…I remember," the Dalek breathed, the Doctor looking back to see its eye was trained on the image before them.

"You saw the truth, Rusty," he began, "Remember how you felt. You saw a star being born. The endless rebirth of the universe…"

"No."

The Doctor frowned at that a moment, but kept on, needing this to work, "And you realized the truth about the Daleks. Let me show you the truth," he picked up the wire he'd been working on, "I've opened your mind and now I'm coming in," he grabbed the other half of it and pressed them together, wincing and grunting as the energy of the neurons surged through him, integrating him with the Dalek's mind for just a moment, he wasn't sure he could bear much longer than this single moment, wasn't sure he wanted to risk what he'd be if he exposed himself that much to the mind of a Dalek, "I'm part of you. My mind is in your mind."

"I see your mind, Doctor," the Dalek's eye widened, "I see your universe."

The Doctor grunted, glancing over his shoulder to see images flickering through the viewing screen, different images of the universe, of planets and people and stars, "And isn't the universe beautiful?"

"I see beauty."

"Yes, that's good," he nodded, turning back to the Dalek, trying to focus, "That is good. Hold on to that."

"I see endless, divine perfection."

The Doctor didn't look back, but he was sure if he had the image would have been of the Professor, but he shook his head, it was just wishful thinking, even in his attempts here he'd never bring her up to the Dalek, he'd never risk that, this had to be about the universe and just that, "Make it a part of you. Remember how you feel right now. Put it inside you and live by it."

"I see into your soul, Doctor. I see beauty. I see divinity. I see hatred…"

He frowned at that, "Hatred?"

"I see your hatred of the Daleks and it is good."

The Doctor shook his head, and looked over his shoulder, his breath leaving him as he saw the images of his own memory behind him, of the Dalek Crucible exploding, of all the times he'd encountered the Daleks and destroyed them, of all the times he'd protected the Universe from their attacks, "No, no, no," he tried to focus, tried to think of something else but…it was rather like what Reinette had once told him, a door once opened could be stepped through in either direction and now…now the Dalek was invading his mind, controlling where his memories went…and it wanted to see the Daleks through HIS eyes, "You must see more than that, there must be more than that!"

But it was too late, the Dalek had latched onto that, "Death to the Daleks. Death to the Daleks. Death to the Daleks!"

"No," he turned back to the Dalek, "There must be more than that. There must be more than that. Please."

There HAD to be more to it than that, HIS idea of beauty couldn't be the destruction of the Daleks, it couldn't be. He could not be THAT much like a Dalek! His soul and mind and heart couldn't be that blackened that it saw destruction as good and hatred for the Daleks as beauty. He remembered meeting the Minister of the Daleks, how they had thought hatred was beautiful and it had disgusted both him and the Professor, this could NOT be his definition of beauty or goodness.

He winced, looking over his shoulder hearing sounds now on the viewing screen and realized it wasn't a memory any longer.

He dropped the wires, watching as the Dalek, in the middle of attacking the Aristotle, stopped…and began to fire on the other Daleks, trundling through the base and firing at as many as it could, destroying them every which way.

"The Daleks are exterminated!" the Dalek cried out in victory.

The Doctor let out a breath, watching as the last Dalek was blasted to pieces on the screen, "Of course they are. That's what you do, isn't it?"

He looked back at the Dalek before shaking his head in disgust and turning to walk away. All he wanted right now was to find the Professor and get them all out of there.

~8~

The resizing process had been more enjoyable than the miniaturizing process, however it had still left the Professor with aching joints and some pain in her bones. It wasn't dangerous to miniaturize while pregnant, every molecule in the compartment was meant to shrink with it, even the baby, the baby was perfectly safe…it was just uncomfortable to be resized. That and she could still smell the liquids they'd been dropped in dried onto her clothing and it was making her nauseous again, but she tried her best to breathe through her mouth, needing to last just a bit longer as they faced down the Dalek, show a weakness and the enemy WOULD use it against you. So far the Dalek, and the others, didn't seem to realize she was pregnant but she knew, the second that it was revealed to the Doctor's enemies, to her own enemies, that she was with child, it would just be a red target on her for them to use her to get to the Doctor. She knew how her body would change the bigger she got. She'd be slower, more sluggish, tired and irritable and less rational and hormonal and it would just make for a mess of a soldier, if she could even cling to that level of control by then. She'd be a sitting duck, easier prey for their enemies and she didn't want that, she didn't want to become that easy to pick off.

So she had to hide it, for now, had to hide her pregnancy as long as she could, to keep them all safe.

"Journey," Morgan called as Journey led the Doctor, Professor, and Clara out of the lab and towards where her uncle was standing with the Dalek beside him, surrounded by what was left of the soldiers.

"Uncle Morgan," she hurried over and hugged him tightly.

"I have transmitted a retreat signal," the Dalek informed them, "The Daleks will believe the humans have initiated the ship's self-destruct."

"What about you, Rusty?" Clara eyed the Dalek.

"I must go with them."

"Of course you must," the Doctor nodded, regarding the Dalek closely though he remained nearly glued to the Professor's side. Given that the Dalek had been able to turn on them once before, who knew how long their altering would last this time, "You've unfinished work, haven't you?"

"Victory is yours, but it does not please you," it observed.

The Doctor barely managed not to sneer at the pepperpot, "You looked inside me and you saw hatred. That's not victory."

"A victory would have been a good Dalek," the Professor agreed.

"I am not a good Dalek," it stated, its eyestalk shifting between the two Time Lords, "You two are good Daleks."

The Doctor and Professor stiffened at that, but the Dalek just turned and trundled down the hall.

"Till the next time," the Doctor called, sending it a glare as it disappeared through a door.

"Next time, I destroy the Daleks again," the Professor muttered, though she felt tears prickling at her eyes for what the Dalek had said about them. She shook her head, she was NOT going to let a DALEK of all things get to her or upset her.

Bloody hormones.

The Doctor reached out and took the Professor's hand, sensing her emotions flaring along with the nausea rolling inside her and wanted to get her out of there. So he turned and led her down the hall, back towards the hanger where the TARDIS had been parked, leaving Clara to chase after them a few moments later.

"Doctor!" they heard Journey shout just as they reached the doors of the box, "Professor," they turned to see the woman running up to them, "Take me with you."

The Doctor glanced at the Professor for that, but she shook her head minutely, making him nod and turn back to Journey, "We think you're probably nice. Underneath it all, we think you're kind and you're definitely brave," he eyed her, "I just wish you hadn't been a soldier."

"But SHE'S a soldier too," Journey pointed at the Professor, stepping closer to them, tears in her eyes as she was being denied this opportunity.

"Yeah, she is," the Doctor nodded, "Two soldiers per TARDIS."

"There's only one of her," Journey argued.

The Doctor stepped closer to the Professor, his back to Journey as he reached out and put a hand on the Professor's stomach, both her hands coming to rest on hers, "One's a-cooking," he informed the woman, before sliding his hand to the Professor's hip and turning her to lead her into the TARDIS, waiting till Clara had followed before shutting the door, the box disappearing from before Journey's eyes moments later.

~8~

"How do I look?" Clara called, making the Time Lords look over at her from the console, both of them changed into cleaner clothing but still the same outfits. Clara though, had changed into a different red shirt and trousers, though the Professor was sure she just wanted to make sure she looked like she hadn't been running through a Dalek and getting covered in other unmentionable fluids.

"Sort of short and round-ish," the Doctor answered, going back to the controls, "But with a good personality, which is the main thing."

Clara gave him an unamused look, "I meant my clothes. I just changed."

"Oh, good for you, still making an effort."

The Professor shook her head, "You look lovely Clara."

"Not as lovely as you," the Doctor called to the Professor as Clara opened her mouth to thank the woman.

The Professor had to shake her head at that, she was noticing something…different about this Doctor. He'd always been fond of humans, still was in a way she felt, but the way he responded to them and her made her laugh and smile. It was like he was only a certain way with her and anything he wasn't with the humans, he still was with her. He didn't like hugging them, he hugged her, he thought they were pudding-brains, he thought she was brilliant, he thought they were rather ordinary in appearance, he thought she was lovely (even though humans looked like Time Lords). She supposed she should ask him about it one day, when her mind was less scattered and she could sit down for more than a moment or two without wanting to get up and walk about while she still easily could. She wanted to walk as much as she could before she started to waddle as she was likely to do eventually.

She really should ask him why he'd done such a 180 in how he saw the humans compared to how he saw her, but for the moment it was more amusing.

She turned and pulled a lever, setting them down, "Ok, you're back in the cupboard, thirty seconds after you left."

Clara nodded and headed for the door, trusting that, as the Professor had landed them, that she WAS actually only 30 seconds later instead of 30 days or years later, "When will I see you again?"

"Oh…soon," the Doctor waved it off, "Or later. One of those."

Clara opened the door, about to step out, but paused, looking back at them, "I don't know."

"I'm sorry?" the Doctor looked over from where he'd been staring at the Professor towards Clara.

Clara smiled, pleased that another thing hadn't changed all that much, he still stared at the Professor like she was his world, "You asked me if you're a good man and the answer is…I don't know. But I think you try to be and I think that's probably the point."

"And that is most certainly what counts," the Professor agreed.

The Doctor smiled and looked between the two of them, before focusing on Clara, "I think you're probably an amazing teacher."

"I think I'd better be," Clara winked, nodding at the Professor, "I have a pretty amazing example to live up to," she gave them a small wave before she stepped out.

"Do you think I'm a good woman?" the Professor turned to the Doctor instantly the moment the doors had shut.

"I think you are the most fantastic, brilliant, beautiful, woman in the Universe," he reached out to take her hand.

She smiled smally at that, "Do you really think our child will be a soldier too?" she asked, more quietly this time, her free hand moving to her stomach.

He looked down, recalling his words to Journey, that only two soldiers were allowed in the TARDIS at a time, it was a bit of a play on words. When he'd regenerated in the Time War, he'd become the Warrior because the Professor had become a 'soldier.' So it was really 3 fighters in the TARDIS, but 2 soldiers specifically, "I think…I want our child to be strong," he looked up at her, "Like its mother."

"And fast, like its father," she nodded, thinking about when they'd found that spacesuit in 1969, strong and running away, that was them, the both of them actually, "I just want it to be happy. I want to be a good mother."

"And you will be," he stepped closer, taking her other hand off her stomach and holding it, "We both will be."

"I'd rather you be a good father," she teased, making him roll his eyes.

"Whatever happens, Kata, our child will be safe and loved," he promised her, "No one's ever been able to beat us when we work together, right?"

"Right," she smiled more fully this time, "Together, we'll be fine."

She just had to hope that the pit in her stomach that gnawed at her, that constantly made her put her hand to her stomach to check that the baby was still there, would go away. Because all it did was make her worry, not just for the future of what their child might become because of having them as parents, but…if there would even be a future.

She'd already lost one baby, if not possibly more, she just…she didn't want to lose this one too.

A/N: Had a bit of a mini heart-attack this morning. I tried to log onto FF to update this but it kept saying 'webpage cannot be displayed' and I was a little worried because my Quotev did the same...and it turns out that quotev deleted me (yet still has up other users that have threatened bodily harm to people) and since I haven't been on that site since like the 21st of October, I have no idea how or when it happened or why :( I was worried, trying to log in to my account, especially later in the day when I wanted to get OUAT up too, that FF had deleted me also and it was worse because the main page came up, but nothing else, no other pages opened. But then I saw that it was doing that to other sites also, like I could google search but clicking the links did the same thing and started to hope it was just my internet being stupid :( I've been checking like every 20 minutes since 6:30 this morning and it FINALLY started working about 5 minutes ago and I could log in and my account and stories were still here :) So, minor heart attack to the side, I hope you like this chapter :)

I'll admit, this wasn't my favorite of the series, I can say, for this story though that I'm SO looking forward to the Caretaker, but I can't say why }:)

Some notes on reviews...

I'm sorry your in the hospital :( I hope everything gets better for your soon! I'm glad the chapter was able to cheer you up :)

I've read that it was stated to be 900 in short stories about it instead of on the actual show, I try to base it more on what the show says. So till they specify that he's 2,100 (I can't remember if they actually give the age of if they just said 2000 like in the last chapter), I've got it as 800, but even then, with the time between travels, he could have spent 100 years travelling somewhere before picking up Clara again, like with the Ponds between TWORS and ATCM :) It'll depend if the beheading happens in the chapter or if it'll be another way to end the man, or if Robin's even the one that'll do it ;)

I can't say where the Professor will go this series, it'll be a surprise ;)

Phantom Melodies will be updated a few hours after this story is (if my internet decides to work properly and I can update bright and early). I mentioned in the last chapter that I want to give some space between the two main stories I have going, and because this has the longer chapters, I want it up earlier ;) So about 6-7 hours after I normally post this story, PM will be updated ;)

That's awesome, I hope you had a great birthday! :)

I can't say when she'll go into labor, could be this story, could be the Christmas special, could be the start of Series 9...we'll have to wait and see }:)

I don't think it's bad :) It made me smile to know you squeed :) I'm going to try and clear up the relationship with Clara as the story goes, while also dealing with the pregnancy as well :) I loved the mirror aspect of the episode very much :) TL6 will be up, hopefully, around the start of August next year if all goes to plan :) I try not to let the reactions get to me, this last one went a bit far though. As I mentioned above, my quotev was deleted and I don't know why, the last time I was on quotev was to inform the co-author to be careful because their name had been on something that contained plagiarism and, next thing I know, hostile answers, blocked, and then my account was deleted so, even though I genuinely don't know if it might be something involving that (because I reported their friend for genuine and proven plagiarism but they didn't believe me), that I was reported for 'false' reporting or something, or what it might be, but it just puts me on edge :/

I liked Series 8 overall :) I find that different episodes were my favorite in relation to the TLs which makes it more unique for each series and I'm very excited to get to them :) The finale was wonderful and heartbreaking at the same time :)

No offense taken ;) I'm really glad that different TLs resonate with different people, makes me feel like I'm doing a good job keeping them unique :) I'll be continuing Dragon's Fire yup :)

I think the Doctor definitely wants the Professor around, she's not a pudding-brain, but he also understands that he's built a grandfatherish relationship with Clara and can't just abandon her (bad memories of Christmas there), but at the same time he sort of just wants to spend as much time with just the Professor to make up for all the time he lost with her :)