Author's Note: Well, on the bright side, I actually took my time this week and wrote the story out instead of trying to cram it in at the last moment. I even had a chance to proof-read it, so there shouldn't be any typos. Granted, this is all because a drunk driver decided to play chicken with my parked car and lost, so I haven't been sleeping well due to the stress of being car-less (poor Charlie, she doesn't deserve to be treated like that), plus dealing with insurance and other things that make me long for the bygone days of the 90's... But, hey, being awake meant I had time to write, so here we are.

Violet had never expected to hear Professor Song's utter the words that came out of her mouth. They were the kind that had no business being repeated. Her teacher managed to catch the Doctor's shoulder as he fell, stopping him from falling helmet first onto the ground, which would have most likely cracked his face plate.

Jenny moved faster than Violet had expected. In a flash of movement, she pushed past the mousy young girl and rushed to his side. "Dad?" she exclaimed, panic evident in her voice.

Violet blinked. She never would have guessed.

"Help me," Professor Song snapped, still holding him by one shoulder. She grabbed his free arm and started to heft him up as Jenny scrambled to get his legs. "Bloody idiot," she growled. "Bloody, thick-headed, stupid man. Bring everything inside," she yelled as they passed the threshold.

She hadn't needed to waste her breath. The mercenaries had already picked up the crates and were moving forward. One of them nudged Violet, causing the girl to jump. Spurred into action, she scurried inside.

The moment the last of them had entered, the doors began to shake again and slowly swing shut. As the seam at the center disappeared, something silvery flashed over the doors. The room was filled with a sudden gust, and though Violet couldn't feel it through her suit, she could feel the pressure pushing her back.

Just as suddenly, the wind died and a new seam appeared as another set of doors she hadn't even noticed opened directly across the room from the first set.

"It's like an airlock," Hamilton muttered.

"That's because it is," Professor Song hefted the Doctor up again. She hurried through the new doorway. Beyond it looked like a temple. It had beautiful columns, climbing up towards a vaulted ceiling. The far wall was smooth and gleamed like polished marble, sloping outward till it seamlessly turned into the entryway to a corridor. In front of it was a set of stairs, and all around were tall chairs, standing proud against the ravages of time. And all of it was surrounded by ornate carved borders. Violet stopped and stared.

No one else did. Professor Song and Jenny carried the Doctor in and laid him up against a column. Hamilton scowled at him. The mercenaries started stacking the boxes up neatly near one of the side walls.

"What are the conditions in here?" Professor Song called out.

One of the mercenaries fished a tablet out of his satchel. "Thirty degrees, ma'am. Air looks old, but circulated. It's probably breathable."

"So warm and stale," she muttered. "It'll have to do." In a smooth, practiced motion, she unlatched the Doctor's helmet and pulled it off. She quickly did the same with her own before leaning over, holding her ear above his nose. At the same time, she pulled off her gloves. She straightened and placed two fingers on either side of his neck, just below his jaw. Finally, she placed one hand on his forehead.

"Idiot," she repeated.

Jenny managed to get helmet off with a great deal less grace than Professor Song had. Her dark hair cascaded down, hiding her expression from Violet. "Is he alright?"

"His heartrates are elevated, but his breathing is strong. He's not too much warmer than he should be. Probably a mild case of heat shock." She stood up. "He'll be fine, though no fault of his own."

Jenny lay on hand on the top of his head.

"Okay," Professor Song said, turning her attention back to the rest of them. "Let's set up the base camp right here. We might need a safe place to return too, and this looks as good as any."

The mercenaries started to crack open the crates. Professor Song walked over to Violet. "Are you all right?"

The mousy girl fumbled to get her helmet off before nodding meekly.

"Good." Professor Song opened a nearby crate and handed Violet a set of sealed jars and a chisel. "Take stone samples from every surface you can."

Violet managed to take them without dropping them. "Um, Professor?"

"Yes?"

"What was that silvery light on the backside of the door?"

Professor Song was digging through the crate again and didn't look up. "A sealer of some kind, probably some sort of energy field. It's a near vacuum outside, simple rock wouldn't be able to keep the air in here."

"Oh." Violet paused. "It's not going to shut off, is it?"

Professor Song flashed her a grin. "No, I wouldn't think so. It's worked just fine for several billion years, why break now?" She finished fetching a camera out of the crate, nodded encouragingly at Violet, and walked off to start documenting.

It took a surprisingly short time to collect samples from the three walls, the sloped marble, the floor, stairs, and chairs. The ceiling was far too high for the little girl to even try and reach, and she was far too nervous to do anything at all to either set of doors.

The mercenaries were organized remarkably, and finished setting up the camp before Violet was even half way done. She was shocked at how much of the equipment they had been carrying was simply basic camping things. Bed rolls, lights, stoves, food stuffs, even a rudimentary communications array with its own tiny dish. By the time that the mousy girl had rejoined her teacher, the mercenaries were all lounging in a state that looked half relaxed and half alert.

Professor Song was slowly running the camera along the fancy borders of one of the walls. Violet paused behind her, uncertain of what to say. "They're a very pretty pattern."

"They're not a pattern," Professor Song said, her voice subdued by concentration.

"They're not?"

"No, not regular enough for that."

"So, they're random?"

"No, they're too regular for that."

Violet was thoroughly confused. "What?"

Professor Song spared her a glance and another grin. "They're letters. It's a story."

Violet looked closer at them. "So it's a language."

"A very old one." Professor Song straightened. "So old, I have no idea what it says. I've never seen it before. Even if there is a modern language that descended from this one, it's been so long, the changes would make them unrecognizable to each other." A faint groan reached their ears. Professor Song rolled her eyes. "Finally."

The Doctor was staring ahead groggily. Jenny's look of worry had been replaced with a look of extreme amusement. Professor Song planted herself right in front of his vision, her arms crossed. "Well, sweetie, how are you feeling?"

"Well done."

"Yes, well, that's what happened when you're a stupid idiot who likes to endanger his life on hunches."

He actually grinned at that. "Yeah, but they're my hunches. That's got to be about the same as an archeologist's hypothesis."

"I really hate you."

"No, you don't." He pushed himself up onto his elbows. "How long have I been out?"

"About half an hour."

"Ah." He finished pulling himself into a seat position, before pressing his thumb between his eyebrows. "I get the feeling this headache isn't going anywhere."

Professor Song let out a snort. "Sweetie, you should count yourself lucky that a headache is all you have."

"Me, lucky?" He waved a hand dismissively. "I make my own luck."

She rolled her eyes again. "Come on," she said, holding a hand out. With a groan, he let himself be heaved upward. "I need you to look at something for me." Violet couldn't help but notice that once he was on his feet, her teacher didn't let go.

"You know, there was this amazing movie once, gave us a warning about all work and no play."

"I'll make sure to keep you away from the any axes."

Violet made eye contact with Jenny. "Do you know what they're talking about?" she asked softly.

The other girl just shrugged.

Professor Song led the Doctor to the closest wall. She motioned at the border. With a grunt, the Doctor kneeled down.

"Do you recognize it?" she asked.

He shook his head slowly. "The TARDIS isn't translating it either. I suppose that as old as she is, this is much older." His eyes narrowed. "I know this. I've seen this somewhere before." He pressed his thumb in between his eyes again and growled softly. "Where? Where was it? Why can't I remember?"

"No ideas?"

"Not yet."

Professor Song sighed. She fished the camera out of her satchel, where it had ended up during her, well, Violet wasn't sure what exactly to call what her teacher and the Doctor did. "Here," she said, handing it out to Violet. "I want you to get a record of every border in the room. Remember, keep the camera steady and move slowly. There isn't much point if we can't make them out."

Violet nodded anxiously.

"Is there anything I can do?" Jenny asked. She seemed to be keeping herself at a set distance from Professor Song, neither too close nor too far.

"Yes. Something is circulating the air in here, but there don't seem to be any vents. Can you find out where the breeze is coming from?"

Violet moved carefully, making sure each and every step she took was smooth, fretting over bouncing the camera too much. She had made her way around most of the room, and was currently trying to navigate the stairs as she caught the Doctor's low voice, almost imperceptible.

"River, I need you to answer a question for me."

Violet spared them a glace. The Doctor was sitting in front of the wall, legs cross, elbows on his knees, chin on his knuckles. He seemed to be staring ahead blankly. Professor Song was perhaps two steps away, crouched down.

"Oh, do you now?"

"Yes. River, I need you to answer me. No 'spoilers', no hiding the truth. I need you to promise me."

Violet noticed her teacher stiffen slightly out of the corner of her eye.

"You know I can't promise that."

"People's lives are at risk," he snapped, his voice cold and harsh. "If anyone will know the answer, you will."

Professor Song didn't answer him.

"River, where's the Valeyard?"

Violet almost missed the reply. "I can't tell you."

"River-"

"I can't. You told me not to."

"And now I'm telling you to."

"It doesn't work that way."

On the very edges of Violet's vision, the Doctor stood up and took a step toward Professor Song. "River, this isn't the game. It's not an adventure. This is the Valeyard, you have to know what that means. River, people are going to die unless you tell-"

"Don't you dare," she hissed. "Don't you even dare! You're right, Doctor, I was there. I know exactly what happens, so don't you dare try and guilt me into this. I know who dies that day Doctor, god do I know it. You're not the only one who's lost their family, so don't you dare say a word."

It was the Doctor's turn to be silent.

After a moment, Professor Song continued, her voice measured and controlled. "You told me not to say a word. But not just you. The you I've seen do so many impossible things, things that make the Byzantium, the Pandorica, the Silence, look like nothing. Things so much greater against so much smaller odds. If you think you can just override that man, that man I've seen do the impossible, then you're solely mistaken." There was a pause. "On the very first day I met you, when you just appeared out of the sky, you knew everything. Everything. And at the end of that day, after we had barely made it out alive, you looked me in the eye and you told me that we'd have such adventures. That we'd see so many things, but I couldn't tell you. I could never tell you, because things had to happen in the right order, and if they didn't, then everything ends. Everything ends.

"You don't know how important you are, Doctor. You don't know how much rides on your very existence. So I'm sorry, I really am, but I can't tell you. I wish I could, with every fiber of my being, but I can't. I really can't."

Silence again. Finally, the Doctor mumbled something.

Professor Song let out a weak laugh. "You don't even know what you're apologizing for."

To say that Violet was spooked by the exchange would have been an understatement. Who was the Doctor? Not just a man who made her teacher, this amazing, unshakeable rock, tremble, but a being who the everything relied on? And her teacher, the woman who needed no one, who was she really? They had mentioned Stormcage, the highest security prison planet in existence. Who had she been?

By the time the mousy young girl had finished recording all the borders, Hamilton was starting to get impatient. "Professor Song," he said, tapping his foot, "there is more to this temple than just this room. Might I suggest we get on with it?"

"It's best to be thorough," she answered.

"Probably not much point in waiting longer," the Doctor said. "I still have no idea where I've seen this writing before. We have all of our samples, we might as well continue."

"My point exactly," Hamilton bristled.

"I'm sure it was," Professor Song returned with an insincere smile.

"Where's Jenny?" the Doctor asked.

There was a sudden scraping noise and Jenny seemed to appear out of nowhere, sliding down one of the columns. The Doctor gave her an incredulous look.

"I found the vents."

"How did you get up there?"

"I climbed."

He looked up the pillar. "That's got to be thirty meters. You climbed that?"

"Yeah."

"A pillar.

"Yeah."

"B-but how?"

Jenny shrugged. "Just, climbed."

"It's a pillar," he sputtered. "It's-it's-it's smooth. And pillar-ly. The-there's nothing to hold onto. How- No. Better question. Why did you climb the pillar?"

"I was looking for the vents. They're at the top of the pillars."

"But what possessed you to-" He stopped, pressing his thumb between his eyes. "I think my headache is coming back. Never mind."