"Ancient Rome!"

John steps out in absolute wonder. Around him are bustling people in togas, bartering and yelling. The market is positively alive with sounds and smells, all steaming up into the air above his head in a banquet for his senses.

"Well, at the moment, it's newly established Rome, I guess," the Doctor mutters with a diplomatic nod of her head. She joins John by his side, delighted by his wonder. She can barely contain her excitement at his enthusiasm.

"This is amazing! I mean, this is Rome—Ancient Rome! Regular John Smith, just out for a jaunt about an ancient civilization!" John practically taps his heels together at it all. He's flexing his fists like normal but it's in a joyful expression. "This is brilliant!"

The Doctor is only a little surprised when John leaps to her to take her into a hug. She's not unhappy about it at all, though. She giggles a little when he rocks her about in his arms before pulling away.

"Wait, why is that sign in English?" John's mouth quirks into a cross between a pout and a sneer. "Are we in Epcot?"

"Wh—no, it's the TARDIS! She has translation circuits; she translates for us, reading, speech-"

"What about writing? So, I'm speaking Latin right now? What if I write or say something actually in Latin? What would happen?" John continues to ask with unbridled curiosity.

"No idea; yes; don't know; you have to ask the hard stuff, don't you?" the Doctor looks less annoyed and more impressed at his motormouth than anything.

"Haven't you been here before?" John quirks his head as he and the Doctor continue to walk. Of all places, he supposes an ancient human establishment might not be on the top of her list, being alien and all. He thinks it's fascinating still!

"Once or twice," she murmurs, dodging the question and continuing through the winding streets. "I never got a proper look around, though."

"Well, let's have at 'er!" John strides along. The sleeves of his button down are between his fingers as he rushes as if he needs to relieve himself.

"Walk around like that and they'll think you've gone nuts," the Doctor follows more slowly.

"Won't my clothes make them think that already?" John rounds a corner and finally sees an opening in the city. Rather than the Colosseum, or the Pantheon, or even the seven hills of Rome there's just one big one. "One big, white…smoking mountain; doesn't that make this…?"

"Pompeii," the Doctor gasps behind him. "This is Pompeii."

As soon as she has said the word the ground shakes. It rumbles beneath them and creates vibrations that rattle their teeth. "And it's volcano day."

John looks at the Doctor, who looks genuinely worried. It's not a worry that he has seen in her before, like when she thought the Adisposians were going to kill everyone, or when the Racnoss Empress said she would take over the Earth. This is a dark kind of fear. "Doctor, what is it?"

"We need to get out of here, now!" The Doctor takes John's hand before dashing off. He's not used to running (skinny bloke, he is) and is actually a bit clumsy. Still, he keeps up with her, navigating the crowds and cobblestones. The streets look familiar once again and the Doctor finds the corner where they parked the TARDIS. "Oh, don't tell me… "

"Don't tell you what?" John jogs up, only to find the TARDIS gone. "Oh, don't tell you that. Um, well, you seem to have found out all on your own."

"Oi, don't get clever in Latin," the Doctor frowns at him. She sees the vendor across the street and dashes over. "Excuse me, yes, the big blue box that was parked over there, it's gone!"

"Oh, yeah, sold it for a pretty price," the vendor smirks, glancing up and down the Doctor on the word 'pretty'. "Want in on the profit, then, my lovely?"

"Ooh, I oughtta," the Doctor feels John pulling her away from the vendor.

"Right, could you just tell us who bought it, please?" John wrings his hands together while the Doctor runs her tongue along her teeth. She glances at his hands and chuckles something about a "tactile fixation".

"Oh, fella named Caecilius, on Foss Street," the vendor points. "Where you two from? Your woman's got some gall to walk about with legs bound in cloth, eh?"

"Ehm, she's not my-mine-not my woman," John shakes his head frantically. If the Doctor can hear them she's likely to clobber either or both of them back to the future.

"Foss street, then, come on, Earthboy," the Doctor rolls her eyes. She's already cross with herself she doesn't need a reason to be angry with John. 'Oh, you're just a great, big, outerspace dunce, you are,' she berates herself. How could you miscalculate like this? Well, sure, maybe it happens on occasion, but usually it's a fun miscalculation!—not a fixed-point-in-time-and-deadly miscalculation. Now she has to get John out of here as soon as possible. It's not just that he's in irreversible danger, but there's a danger in itself of John-

"Doctor, aren't we going to warn them?"

'There it is,' the Doctor groans in her head. It's not hard to guess the plethora of questions from John Smith. He's a very bright lad, despite what he thinks. He knows what's going to happen to this city. He's also compassionate, and that might be the death of all of them; "no."

"What do you mean? You're the Doctor, you save people!" John comes very close to whining like a child. When she remains stoic he digs his heels into the ground (which proves useless, given her alien strength) and yanks his hand from hers. "You change lives!"

"Not this time! There is nothing I can do. Pompeii is a fixed point in history, meaning that what happens will happen one way or another. There's no stopping it, therefore, we are leaving!" The Doctor snaps at her stubborn companion. Yet he remains rooted to the ground, staring her down easily.

"You can but I'm staying!" John puffs out his chest before really listening to his words. Even after he hears how crazy they are he doesn't take them back.

"Are you kidding me? You're not staying, Earthboy, that's final!" The Doctor feels ready to pull her hair out with this stubborn human. He cannot seriously intend to stay and burn to death just to contest something out of his control! That sounds more like something she would do.

"Says you?" John asks with both brows raised.

"Time Lord: me; TARDIS: mine, yes I say so!" The Doctor all but roars at him like a lioness.

"Human: me; free will: mine, I'm staying!" John crosses his arms in a physical show of defiance. "If you won't then I'll tell them myself!"

"Sure, be the crazy lunatic in weird clothes preaching about the end of the world!" The Doctor bellows. She will not have this. It's one thing to argue with a human, it's another to have him insist on changing a fixed point. It's beyond him, she knows that, but that doesn't mean she has to let him die for it. "TARDIS, now, we are getting out of here."

"I beg to differ, Spacegirl!" John bellows back, but follows only to try and continue to convince her. He knows that the Doctor isn't as cold as she wants him to think. Surely it's not beyond her compassion to save - okay, maybe not the whole of Pompeii - at least somebody. She must want to, he decides. A fixed point in history: whatever happens can't be stopped. That makes sense, he concedes. She can't go interfering in every historical event ever, or nothing would ever be the same. He's not a quantum whatever but…y'know: physics…physicsphysicsphysicsphysicsphysicsphysics physicsphysics…

"I bet you would," she shouts back at him. She doesn't have to look back to know that he's still with her. There's something frightening and comforting in that. It doesn't take long to get to Foss Street, even if the ground does shake. John is awfully quiet the whole time. She tells herself it doesn't bother her, the silent treatment from John, but she is unable to deny that she is pouting.

"Excuse me, I'm sorry, I'm closed for today!" a man with grey hair waves at the two of them as soon as they enter his doorway. "I'm expecting nobility!"

"Oh, that's me!" the Doctor startles the poor man. "I am…Nobilis!"

"I beg your pardon?" the grey haired man squints.

"There's your answer: actual Latin is a no-go," the Doctor spares John a fleeting look of irony before turning back. "I am…la Donna Nobile, of…Messina."

"Ah, from fair Messina, my Lady," Caecilius bows to nobility and kisses the ring on her right hand.

"And I'm…Signore…Nobile," John shakes Caecilius's hand, who only seems puzzled at the custom.

"Pardon my friend he's from…Padua," the Doctor rolls her eyes.

"Isn't that Shakespeare?" John asks but is thoroughly ignored.

"Ah, my Lady and my Lord, I am yet expecting," Caecilius is also ignored as the Doctor moves toward the modern art he purchased at purchased at market today. "How may I help you?"

"This, here, uh," the Doctor knocks on the door for show, "this is interesting, innit though? I may have to take it off your hands, I'm afraid. It's stolen goods, you see. My Lord…Leonato will be expecting it."

"Okay, that is definitely Shakespeare," John shakes his head. He glances at the man, Caecilius, and his wife and son. "Lovely family, you have."

"For shame, Quintus, greet the Nobile," Caecilus smacks his son up the head, much to the boy's chagrin.

"My dad used to do that to me too," John smiles at the young man.

"Signore," Quintus bows, but finds instead that the man shakes his hand.

"Call me John," he smiles widely.

"Odd name," Quintus mutters to himself before bowing to the lady. "My Lady Noble."

"I quite like that," she chuckles while still inspecting her darling blue box.

"Not that you have an ego or anything," John rolls his eyes. "Well, since my Lady is so ingenious, shouldn't she share with Caecilius the wisdom of tomorrow?"

"I confess nothing," the Doctor glares solidly at the defiant Earthboy.

"Nor I deny nothing," John holds up his hands to the nice Italian family. "I'm just saying, shouldn't they…come to Messina with us, to meet with Leonato? If we're going to take Caecilius's stuff he should at least get a holiday out of it."

"The prince's jester would do well not to speak out of turn," she snarls at him.

"Oh, you should get out for a day, though, maybe go to the hills!" John grins, hands in his jeans pockets.

"Why, Signor, we haven't even paid tribute to the household Gods," the Doctor takes John by the shoulders and ushers him over to the house shrine. She flicks water to the marble carving then, after making sure no one can see, in John's eyes. "Stop it, John, there's nothing I can do for them. Vesuvius will burst tomorrow no matter what."

"We could still save them, and I know you want to. It doesn't have to be the whole city, maybe just one family can be enough. How old is that boy, sixteen? He could burn to death tomorrow." John whispers, but with every ounce of emotion poured into it as he can muster. He knows - he can see it in his eyes - how much she wants to save them. "Just them; not everyone, but just someone."

"I can't and you know it, now stop it," the plea is weaker than she would like. It seems John just has that effect on her. Her guilt is an annoying trait she likes to blame on her human companions. She wishes she could save this family, but she has never even stuck around this long for a fixed point in time. There's never any helping so why look back just to see the bloodshed?

"Announcing Lucius Petrus Dextrus!"

The Doctor and John look up to see an older man wearing robes enter. He practically oozes narcissism out of his every pore. Caecilius approaches in all friendly manner and even he is off-put by the older man's air.

"Wonder what crawled up his ass and died," the Doctor mutters.

"Maybe he knows what's happening tomorrow," John quips.

"All right, we're leaving," the Doctor takes John's shoulder rather firmly and begins marching them to the TARDIS. Only a quick glance over her should—wait a minute. "That's different."

"My Lord Lucius was very specific," says Caecilius.

"You designed it?" the Doctor asks, though she chooses to ignore Lucius's visage of disgust for his sake.

"It was a vision foreseen, given to me by the Gods!" Lucius snaps at her.

"It looks like a circuit," John says next to the Doctor.

"They speak oddly," a new voice greets the room. A young woman stumbles in, sallow in complexion with red around her tearful eyes. "Those two, from far away, they use words of trickery."

"Oh, Evelina," Caecilius's wife Metella rushes to her child's side. "I beg you excuse my daughter, she has been consuming the vapours."

"Another with the gift," Lucius approaches Evelina's frail appearance.

"She is promised to the Sibyline Sisterhood," says Metella.

"The prophesies of women are limited and dull," Lucius begins, only to be cut off by the Doctor's dismissive pointing finger.

"What do you mean by consuming the vapors?" she asks Evelina.

"They give me strength," the girl wobbles with the words.

"Oh, sweetheart, I don't think so," the Doctor frowns, dismayed at the condition of the young girl.

"Is that your word as a doctor?"

"I beg your pardon?" the Doctor makes sure to school her face so Lucius can't see her surprise and worry. Even as Vesuvius's rumbling starts up again she makes no movement.

"Doctor, that's your name, I know," Evelina looks dead in the eyes of the strange woman before looking towards John. "And you're a Smith."

"You told me of no such trade," Quintus looks at the brown haired man.

"A female soothsayer is inclined to invent all sorts of vagaries," Lucius sneers at Evelina and the Doctor in twain.

"Not this time, mate, you've been out-soothsayed." The Doctor snaps at him, but never lets her eyes leave Evelina's.

"Do not overspeak me," Lucius glares at her, "woman of Gallifrey."

More rumbling comes but the Doctor ignores it—ignores everything. "What's that now?"

"Your hair, like the grass of another world. That world is lost in fire, is it not?" Lucius doesn't stop. "I have the gift of Pompeii. I know the absolute truth of truths. Doctor, he is returning."

"Who is he?"

"And you, son of London," Lucius pauses only a second, looking at John intently, "you are not who you think you are."

"Doctor, what's happening?" John asks, deeply afraid of the suffocating tension. He gets no answer, though. The Doctor is paralyzed, watching Evelina's hollow, glassy eyes.

"Even the word doctor is false," she says. "Your name is hidden, yet so clear. It lives in the stars, in the cascade of Medusa herself, yet also in this world…in this life; in this very day, your name lives. You are of nobility. You are a Lady…of Time."

John glances at the Doctor for a split second, wondering how Evelina could know that. The Doctor is still frozen, until everything comes to a stop. The rumbling stops, the air lightens and Evelina collapses to the ground.

"Evelina!" Metella cries frantically for her daughter. She looks between the strangers. The woman is supposed to be from another world, and a doctor! The man is a smith from a place called London? "Help her, I beg of you!"

"You're the doctor!" Caecilius comes over in equal flurry.

"I'm not that kind of Doctor," she mutters, figuring no one is listening to her.

"You're not even of this world, according to Lucius!" Quintus goes from shouting accusative at the Doctor to gesturing to where Lucius was. "If you are a doctor, of any world, then help her!"

"Get her into a cool room, with an open window, so she can breathe." The Doctor gives John a glance before following Caecilius, carrying his daughter, away. "John, you and Quintus have a look around, would you?"

"Anything for m'lady," John quirks his right eyebrow but turns to Quintus anyway. "Can you show me where this Luicus lives?"

The Doctor smiles, thankful John is still willing to be her companion despite their disagreement. She honestly didn't find much disagreement in Lee or Shaun. They were both pretty ready, willing and able to follow her words to the letter. It was sometimes a bit hindering, actually, to have her word put on a pedestal like that: made it very hard to see her own mistakes until it was too late.

"She didn't mean to be rude," Metella speaks softly, stroking her daughter's forehead. "She's ever such a good girl."

"What's wrong with her arm?" the Doctor asks. She almost dare not break the serenity of the darkened room.

"An irritation of the skin. She never complains, bless her, but we bathe it in olive oil every night," says Metella.

"Is that," the Doctor breathes. She approaches cautiously, wary of the power that gives Evelina into such things of which she should never know. There is no reason for her to know of the Medusa Cascade, or of her name, certainly.

"You are a doctor, and from far away," Metella turns pleading, "can you tell what it is?"

The Doctor runs two fingers along the grey length of Evelina's wrist. It's cold and solid to the touch. She looks at Metella, rightfully worried for her daughter. "It's stone."

"Skin like stone," Metella shakes her head.

"No, Metella," the older (by centuries) woman corrects her. "It's not like stone, it is stone."

"B-but how," Metella whimpers, taking in shaky breaths. "The Gods, they were speaking through her. She saw their truths, their wisdom!"

"You shouldn't rely so heavily on the words of unseen Gods, Metella," the Doctor says, though she knows it's blasphemous. This culture will revere their Gods the way any culture at this stage would. "I am not saying to doubt them, but I am saying to believe a little more in yourselves. Humans are capable of great things, and the Gods may help, but you created this city on your own. You were able to build and rebuild on your own, with the Gods looking on you with fortune, but you did this."

Metella regards the strange woman contemplatively. She is from another culture, so her mistrust of the Gods is forgiven. There's something about her, though, that is otherworldly, like the Gods. Her hair, like fire, Lucius said—no, like the grass of another world. Far away indeed, Metella thinks. "Firstly, though, my Lady Doctor, you must be clothed properly."

"Oh, no, it's," the Doctor shakes her head, decided it best she not mention that her clothes are all inside the weird blue box still in Metella's foyer.

"No, come," the curly haired woman leads the Doctor down the hall. She opens the wooden doors and files through robes. After several minutes of debate and glances at the Doctor, each making her more nervous than the last, "this one!"

The Doctor is handed a soft, purple thing. It should drape to her ankles, though she might have to make adjustments. "Thank you, Metella, but it's too kind of you."

"Doctor, please, if you are attending to my daughter then I insist you at least be dressed as a woman of your status should be."

The Doctor sighs and simply steps behind the changing screen obediently. Metella at least leaves the room, though the screen basically gives her permission to come back in any time she likes. It gives the Doctor some time to think, at least. She still has this dilemma to deal with. John will not let her leave without saving someone, she knows. She just doesn't know how it will affect things. She has never saved anyone from a fixed point in time, ever. Oh, but she wants to, she really does. This poor girl, only seventeen years old, and her arm is turning to stone.

Once the toga is on the Doctor frowns at herself. It fits poorly, as she expected. It hangs over her bust, falling around her in a circumference like a shower curtain. She reaches for the Sonic and a string of gold. Once she has pulled it around her under her breasts, she Sonics it into the fabric. That's better, she thinks as the toga forms like a dress, with a proper waistline.

"My Lady," Metella enters again as soon as the Doctor has stepped out from behind the screen. "Oh, my Lady, that is most becoming. The Signor will surely love it."

The Doctor scoffs a laugh, casting her eyes downward with a self-conscious smile. "I'm sure he'll have a field day, seeing me in this."

"Why would he seek the fields because of the cloth you wear?"

The Doctor shakes her head again. She's really gotta watch what she says and how she says it. "He should be finding some things for me as we speak. Please, I beg your pardon, but I must investigate the fumes Evelina breathes."

Metella nods and lets the Doctor pass. Once she is in the main room again Caecilius is waiting for her. "Help me with the hypocaust, would you?"

"Doctor, what news of my daughter?" he asks like any good father would.

"She will be all right," is all the Doctor tells him. She stares down into the blaze, red and orange light reflecting on her pale skin and into her already flaming hair. "This feeds into Vesuvius itself, aye?"

"Yes, the soothsayers thought of it seventeen years ago after the great earthquake," says Caecilius.

"Seventeen years ago," the Doctor mutters. 'And this man has no idea that his daughter was hand picked by that event to foresee terrible futures.'

"It did a lot of damage, but we rebuilt."

"What's that noise," the Doctor asks as an awful wailing comes from below.

"Don't know, but it happens all the time." Caecilius meets the Doctors eyes. "Some say the Gods of the underworld are stirring."

"Sure, and I'm not a fan of football," the Doctor mutters before she can stop herself again. Luckily Caecilius remains silent, probably trying to figure out what she has just said. She scrapes the side of the hand carved vent with her nail. "After that earthquake, I'm guessing the soothsayers started making a lot more sense."

"Oh, yes," Caecilius nods eagerly. "Their imprecise predictions were no more. Suddenly they could all predict crops and rainfalls with absolute accuracy."

"And none of them have mentioned tomorrow?"

"No, should they?" Caecilius regards the odd Doctor woman as she lets dust fall through her fingers. "They're breathing in dust?"

"Tiny particles of rock," volcanic ash; "they're breathing in Vesuvius."

—

"So, you are the Lady Doctor's servant?" Quintus asks for complete lack of a better subject. The silence is maddening, between the sounds of the night and the cracking of John the Smith's knuckles.

"Ha, not likely," John barks a laugh. "I'm not her errand boy, I'm her…companion."

"So, you are her assistant," Quintus smirks as he sees John squirm. "I'm not wrong, I see."

"Assistant is a fine word, I guess," John mutters as they arrive at a window.

"Do you not devote your life to her?" Quintus continues his interrogation as John climbs up with all the grace of a newborn goat.

"I suppose you could say that," he answers in an irritated tone.

"Do you abide by her word and respect it?"

"Yeeeees," John hisses in the dark, attempting to turn himself over.

"Do you travel with her, rest with her, and live with her, never to stray from her side?" Quintus waits patiently while John flops through the window the way you spit out the pimento in an olive.

"Pass me the torch!" John whispers.

"Answer the question," Quintus combats.

"Fine, yes, yes, all yes, now torch me!" John only gets a smug grin as Quintus tosses him the torch and easily crawls up himself.

"So in what ways are you not bound to the Lady Doctor for life?"

"I….don't know how to answer that," John finally admits honestly. He turns to see the tablet that is carved like a circuit board from earlier. "Okay, so he's got a bunch of different marble carvings of circuitry, but what for?"

"The future, John of the Smiths," Lucius barges in, "we are building the future!"

"Oh, well, it's all out of order, Lucius," John fumbles over. He moves the blocks, like puzzle pieces. "I might not have the Doctor's special brand of crazy brilliance but I did work as a temp in a computer shop for six months! This goes here - and let me tell you - and that there - what this does! It's an energy converter!"

"A what?" Quintus blurts.

"Never mind that," John looks at Lucius, who is stony as ever. "So, Lucius, why do you have replicant technology so far beyond your future? Who designed it? Is it whatever alien made your arm all crackly? I can hear the sound of stone grinding when your shoulder moves, and I'm guessing that's what happened to Evelina—to all the soothsayers!"

"You insult the Gods!" Lucius booms.

"You disgrace the Gods!" John counters as he dives for Lucius's cloaked hand. He feels the solidity of stone and snaps it off. "Ha!—unarmed at last!"

"Get him!"

"No, no, no!" John kicks the stand holding the carvings, forcing them to ground. "Quintus, run!"

The younger boy tosses the torch to the guards, immobilizing them well enough.

"Did you see that?" John asks with a Cheshire grin as they run. "I did that whole foiling bad guys thing all on my own! I don't need the Doctor for that!"

"So you really don't ever leave her side, then?" Quintus questions while also running like a madman.

"Oh, bugger off," John frowns. He hears a booming coming. It's different than before, though. It's not the rumbling of the mountain, or the vibration of tectonic energy. No, this is rhythmic and steady.

"Is it the mountain?" asks Quintus.

"No," John thinks hard on it, "It's more like…footsteps!"

The two take off running again, John in the lead. The Doctor would be well impressed if she could see him now. Never mind that, though, he thinks as he keeps running. Bursts of steam and smoke follow them as they round bends and corners. Quintus barely avoids a rather heavy burst of steam. "It's following us!"

John bursts into Caecilius's home first, closely followed by Quintus. "Caecilius, everyone, get out!"

"What's happened?" he asks, walking out with his wife.

"John, what's going on?" the Doctor asks, instantly by his side as he tries to catch his breath.

"I think we're being followed," he puffs in disbelief. Soon enough the vent bursts and the stone around it cracks open like an egg. A monster of molten lava and rock hauls itself from the ground, growling ferociously. "Doctor, what is that thing?!"

"It's a carapace of stone! It's a foot soldier made of rock and held together by lava!" The Doctor gets John to his feet and forces the family back, though Evelina hardly moves. "John, everyone, get water and douse that thing with it!"

John and Quintus grab the closest urns they can find. The Doctor reaches for one but finds her arms and wrists grabbed. One hand covers her mouth while the another figure appears in front of her. She feels herself being dragged, backwards, down streets and alleyways. Soon she is underground. A chamber, filled with torches and flame, swirls with unearthly energy.

"You have got be kidding me," she curses. Flat on her back, she can see the humanly drawn replica of the Sibyline facial features. Her wrists are bound, and as much as she would love to Sonic them it…it's back at Caecilius's (oh, isn't that wizard?).

"The false prophet will surrender the blood and breath of another world," one sister declares, holding a long knife in her hand.

"I'll surrender you in a minute, there, darlin'—don't you dare!" the Doctor struggles against her bonds. She doesn't like being held captive by humans on a flippin' bed of stone and fur, and she certainly doesn't like having her hearts exposed like this. "Let me go!"

"You will be silent in the temple of Sybil!" the brunette snaps.

"You know I met the Sybil once," the Doctor interjects. "Hell of a woman really, absolutely lovely. Honestly, I think she might have had a thing for me. 'Fraid I don't play that team but I was flattered nonetheless. Let me tell you, she would ashamed of you lot, smearing her religion! That a human idea, spreading word by knife point?"

"A knife that welcomes the hearts of Time!"

"Um, if I may interrupt!"

The sisters all recoil in shock of a man entering the temple. The Doctor just breathes in utter relief to see John Smith. He hardly looks like he's sure of himself, but there is a confidence in him she quite likes. She really must send him on his own more often!

"No man may enter the temple of the Sibyl!"

"Oh, don't mind me, just us girls," he quips without meaning to be funny, all but tiptoeing over to the Doctor. "You doing all right?"

"Yeah, just wizard," she smirks up at him.

"I like the toga," he smiles genuinely, "it's a good color for you."

"Thanks," she sighs, no longer laughing, "and the ropes?"

"Oh, any man loves some good rope." John speaks without thinking, like he does with every one out of five utterances. "Although they don't match your shoes, so perhaps you'd like this."

The Doctor laughs with delight as John pulls out her Sonic. She then proceeds to gasp as he is able to guess how to use it to undo her bindings. "How could you do that? No one can use my Sonic but me."

"Guess I'm a bit special," John shrugs and smirks.

"You're one of a kind, that's what you are," the Doctor returns his smirk and sits up, rubbing her wrists.

"Show me the Doctor!" a ghastly voice demands.

"Ah, there we are," the Doctor goes back to being, well, the Doctor. "You're behind all this. You're no high priestess, you're not even the Sibyl, are you? No, you're what's manifested inside of her throat and lungs. You're a half a pyrovile, steps away from being like the foot soldier that destroyed Caecilius's home. You fell to the earth but it would have shattered you upon impact. Seventeen years ago an earthquake woke you up, and now you're using humans to reconstitute yourselves. They'll all turn to stone from inhaling the Pyrovilic material that makes up Vesuvius."

"The prophetic one of the blue box, she knows too much!" the brunette with the knife speaks up.

"John, get down that grate," the Doctor orders and also begins moving towards it. "The people of Pompeii are turning to stone before Vesuvius has even erupted."

"Doctor!" John calls and drops down. She's not far behind him, though she must find the toga horribly impractical as of now. Without a word she walks on and he finds her leading him into the heart of the volcano. "Doctor, if they're behind Vesuvius erupting, can't you stop it now?"

"It's still a part of history, John," she grunts angrily.

"How do you tell if something is fixed or in flux or not or whatever?"

"Because that's how I see the universe!—that's how I see everything!" the Doctor bursts at him, eyes, flickering with glowing gold energy. "Every waking second I can see what is, what was, what could be, what must not. That's the burden of the Time Lord, and I'm the last one."

John watches the Doctor turn her back on him and continue walking. "How many people will die, Doctor?"

The Doctor makes what could be seen as a petulant sigh, but John can hear the whisper of voice that it carries. "I can see them all, John. All 20 000 deaths, and I can't save them."

"What if it were only 19 996 deaths?" John asks as gently as he can.

"John, listen," the Doctor turns. "The Earth is at stake, here. These pyroviles need heat to survive: the heat of a volcano. They're building a new civilization and they'll burn the Earth to a crisp to do it. I have to make a choice."

"What do you mean?" John dreads to ask.

"The soothsayers couldn't see the volcano erupting because there is no eruption, just us. The pryoviles had Lucius make an energy converter so they could convert the lava into energy, that's why we can survive down here. There is no eruption of natural lava; I invert the energy, destroying the Pyrovilian empire and destroying Pompeii. It's Pompeii or the world, and I'm the death of it either way."

"It's not fair," John feels his lip tremble.

"No, it's not," the Doctor answers him, still faced away. Some sizzling indicates that her tears are still there, though.

"But your own planet, your home," John continues through his weeping, "it burned."

"Don't you understand?!" The Doctor wheels around on him, finally breaking. That wall she builds around herself, bricks, falling, breaks. She tears through it herself just to get to John. "Can't you see that? If I could change things - if I could save them I would, but I can't! I just can't!"

John struggles to breathe. He can't…he never thought it would be this. How long has she known? When did she figure it out? Why wouldn't she tell him sooner? "What if they can't be stopped?"

"Vesuvius erupted with the force of 24 nuclear bombs," she says over her shoulder, leading into a base that seems alien enough. As she begins working the stone controls her voice becomes quieter and quieter. "Nothing can survive it. Certainly not us."

John sees her pause on a lever that must be activator. Her eyes are so steady, but swimming with emotion at the same time. She has two hearts; he thinks that even with only one it would still be so loving and compassionate there would be room for the whole world in there. And this is the whole world they're facing. "Never mind us."

"Twenty thousand people," the Doctor whispers. Her whole body is shuddering, yet it doesn't waver at all in intention. Her hands grasp desperately.

John moves his hands over hers. He's willing to share in this burden. He is ready to kill 20 000 of his own kind, because it will save billions more. People are taught that it is never acceptable to sacrifice the lives of a few to save the lives of many. He understands why that's wrong now, though. He understands it because everyone of those lives is more than a number. Every one of that number is a person, with a life to live, and he can't spare his own conscience in exchange for even one of them. So he is going to murder 20 000 people, so that every other human being to ever live from 24 August of 79 AD onward.

They push down the lever and the world explodes around them. The center they're standing in jerks under them. The Doctor tries to keep herself upright but her knees feel weak. Her hands are cold and sweaty. She imagines her eyes are deeply hollow. She feels empty.

When they stop moving it's John who moves first. He takes the Doctor's hand, which is disturbingly limp. He leads them out, discovering them back in Pompeii. "I guess it was an alien escape pod or something. Doctor…Doctor?…are you all right?"

The Doctor doesn't answer for quite some time. She lets her hair blow against her face harshly in the ashy wind. Tears streak down her cheeks. "John, find Caecilius and his family and bring them to the TARDIS."

John smiles a bit, but not completely, not with the Doctor still like this. Instead he reluctantly lets go of her chilly hand and dashes to Caecilius's home. Inside, the man and his family are hunched together for protection. Every one of them is crying. "Come with me!"

"Doctor!" Evelina jumps up to the woman who seems not herself. Despite her catatonic appearance she returns Evelina's hug and closes her eyes, as if telling herself that the physical contact is not imagined.

"Everyone, come along. We're getting out of here."

—

"You're always remembered, Caecilius," John offers as a small token. They stand off on a hill, watching Pompeii be covered in enough ash to bury the city for thousands of years. "Pompeii will be found again one day. The Earth never forgets the greatness of this city, or its people."

"The explosion created a rift in time, which gave you and the soothsayers your ability to see," the Doctor speaks softly to Evelina. Both are in tears. "You're free."

Caecilius holds his wife and Quintus holds his sister as they watch their home be destroyed. The Doctor and John move away silently. The Doctor knows all too well what it's like to watch your home burn. John simply can't bear to watch. They enter the TARDIS and waver out of their lives forever.

"Thank you," John hears. He's surprised that the first words the Doctor has been able to say to him are of thanks. "For making me go back…and save them."

"Yeah," is all he can think to say, and nods.

"You said…you said you were ready. You said that you were willing to risk the normal for me so that you could live an extraordinary life. Today you helped me…well, you saved five people today, John Smith, including me. That's pretty extraordinary, I think." The Doctor smiles in an attempt to convey how much she appreciates him as a whole. She appreciates his company, his companionship, his compassion and his conscientiousness. Most of all, she appreciates John. "Welcome aboard."