They pushed through, made their way back the way they came. There wasn't much time left before something would inevitably go horribly wrong again- probably the Draconians getting the Cybermen moving again to recapture all the wayward citizens, and that meant that first things first they had to get out of here and into a position where they could get what they'd lost back. The issue was, Benny and Jason desperately needed to be attended to, while Brax needed Joseph, the artron signature tracker and the shard of the Seal of Time, and the Doctor needed his TARDIS.

One thing had to come after another. They'd regroup at the Collection, get medical attention, speak to the Draconian emperor to rat out Ambassador Kothar as to stop the war from happening, and collect their things before shutting the whole operation down permanently. It was a tall order, to say the least.

The tracker was, a bit surprisingly, indeed actually in the same closet that Bernice's ring had been, after some rather haphazard shuffling to search for it. The Seal though, exactly as expected, still wasn't here.

"Alright, the TVG..." the telepathically bonded pair muttered to themselves, taking it and lining it up with the matching slot in the drawer of the filing cabinet that Brax's ship had decided to become.

It fit into place with a satisfying thunk and the area around it glowed in bright yellow, the machine coming back to life with the sort of grace and elegance that only something belonging to Braxiatel could.

The interior folded out, slowly appearing piece by piece starting at the door before becoming solid. The floor, then the console, then the walls, spreading out to fill in the darkness with bright white.

The two stepped in, followed by the Doctor, and finally Jason.

The Doctor looked around the room with an air of mild disdain at the decor, commenting, "Hmm. I thought you'd have changed it from the default by now. It doesn't really suit you, Brax."

"Thank you for the constructive criticism, Doctor, but not right now. Or ever."

Expertly, Bernice and Irving danced around the console, having developed a greater control of keeping the bodies independent from one another. The ship seemed confused at what was going on with them, but didn't complain now that she was all in one piece again.

Despite the many previous attempts of their enemies to barricade and keep them trapped in one spot, thanks to the two pairs of hands working in synchronicity, the takeoff was remarkably smooth and quiet. So much so in fact that even the sounds of their laboured breathing held more prevalence.

"And... we're off. Only have to keep this together until Benny's in the infirmary and getting the nanites extracted, then she can have surgery to get... this out," they placed hands to their throats, uneasy in how intimate the foreign objects had become.

"How exactly are we gonna do this, Brax, Benny?" Jason watched expectantly.

"You're staying there. Brax will take me back and drop me off as close as he can to my TARDIS, then I'll find the Seal," the Doctor explained.

They nodded. "Precisely. He might also get Roda to help do it, provided she's fully recovered herself."

They landed precisely where they meant to in the private medbay of the mansionhouse, down to the exact centimetre. After typing out a few messages to the medical staff via the console, the large double doors shortly swung open. While not particularly soulful, walking from sterile white to even more sterile white was still a massive improvement on the dull greys that sucked the life out of everyone and everything.

They all followed Brax and Benny, who were just beginning to struggle again. The nanites' progression was slowed, but their brief acceptance of it to call out orders on their communications network meant this wouldn't last forever, even with Braxiatel's help.

Starting to limp somewhat, they turned into the first room they could, both falling into chairs at the back of the room, watched by the others.

How to unfuse though- Irving hadn't considered the differences in the way a human disconnected versus a Gallifreyan when he started this. Previously breaking telepathy with Bernice was more emotional, sensual, not just like hanging up a phone call that contact normally was.

But then they had an idea.

The bodies faced one another. They placed their hands on and held each other's temples, leaning in slowly, foreheads pressing together gently. There was just a moment of hesitation, and...

They kissed.

Braxiatel came back first.

His eyelids fluttered in bliss before he remembered much of what he'd been part of, and frowned at what had to be done. He then quickly realized that, in some form, his partner's jealous ex and his brother had just watched them being intimate.

"...You're free to leave now, you two. Jason, you can get treated in the farthest room from this one. Doctor, I'll deal with you once Bernice is seen to."

It took a while, but Benny finally came around herself. She was again in immense pain, vision and thoughts blurred once more. Unlike him, she couldn't remember anything that happened when they'd been one, so she was totally in the dark about how the hell they'd ended up here. Did she get captured again? Bernice genuinely had no idea.

She groaned, blocking out the light with her arm, muttering, "Cliché, yes. But where the hell am I?"

A familiarly cold hand gently squeezed hers.

"The medbay. You need to be treated immediately."

She was about to ask what for, but it came back to her in a sharp stab of pain. After which she gagged violently.

Braxiatel quickly produced a bag apparently from thin air and held it under her chin, which she immediately vomited inside.

"...Yep- cruk. Painkillers please."

Irving looked down grimly, explaining, "More than that. You'll need to be put under. First your blood needs to be heavily filtered and artificial specialized antibodies need to be added back to eradicate the nanites, then they themselves removed again. It's going to be far too strenuous a process for you to be awake. You even being conscious now may be doing more damage with the ways you're fighting the conditioning. You need to go into a state of lowered brain activity."

She nodded reluctantly. No, she'd rather not have to ever experience anything even remotely like what they had done to her completely raw ever again. And the very idea of having to see and feel it- no. Assuming she wouldn't pass out from this pain eventually anyway would be extremely generous.

She swore under her breath, "More needles then? Yeah, definitely not staying awake for that. Not- not now..."

He placed a hand to her shoulder in sympathy, before muttering something about a doctor- she didn't know whether he was referring to a real one or the definite article- and briefly stepping out of the room.

She already hated this place. Bernice didn't think she liked hospitals anymore, not after this. And even just having him out of sight oh-so-briefly left her feeling empty. An emptiness that was growing. She would be grasping onto her humanity with her cold, dead, hands. But they certainly seemed to be getting close to that, she was shivering.

She morbidly wondered how rigor mortis even looked if you were only partially converted. Or if it happened at all to begin with.

Benny let out a self-deprecating chuckle. Was that a humorous laugh at the situation, or the conditioning starting to take hold again? She genuinely didn't know, didn't know if what Cybermen called an absence of emotions truly was. Because they had a semblance of ambition, and victory, and pride. All empty and undeserved, but surely emotions nonetheless. Was there some immortal soul that would be stripped from her body or whittled away provided it happened? Or was that all just superstitious rubbish and it was all meaningless in the end...

She breathed a long sigh, before finally glimpsing Irving again. But not in his usual suit. Or, at least that wasn't the top layer. An odd sight- he was wearing scrubs. His eyes screamed what he didn't want to say, but at least he was being followed by a doctor. Indeed, a real one.

The real doctor in question was the Collection's primary anaesthesiologist. Which was such a relief that she felt like passing out in this chair right here.

Thankfully, Brax wasn't having any of that.

"Do you need help getting onto the bed, Benny?"

She nodded vaguely, taking the hand he offered firmly and falling forward to learn on him. He stepped over and helped her get on with the now much less awkward bridal lift.

As she was laid down and the mask placed to her face, Braxiatel once again took her hand in his and gently lifted it to his lips.

Inhaling the drugs gladly, gracious at the chance to not feel this pain, Bernice drifted off to sleep slowly with a look of true fondness on her face. Just that tiny gesture let her relax before falling into unconsciousness.

As soon as it was confirmed that she was out, Irving got to work. The nanites needed to be killed off and removed first, so he didn't expect the surgeon for a good while. He would have had someone else do this as well, but nobody here with more skill would be familiar with them. It was down to him.

Moving equipment in and out of place, plugging one machine into another, calibrating scanners, it finally all lined up properly and he could start. Like before with her Krynoid infection, a simple scan didn't catch much sight of them even now, so he fine-tuned it more and more precisely and finally got a reading.

It wasn't looking good.

But he'd do this anyway.

After sterilizing the site, two large needles went in first, connected to wide tubes that fed into the primary machine. One in a vein, one in an artery, its function wasn't unlike a device for kidney dialysis, filtering blood. Only in this case it was done via scanning individual molecules before letting them through. That would sort out and capture a large portion of the nanites.

Unfortunately, many of the little monsters appeared to be out of the bloodstream and lodging themselves in her tissues. Which was what the other half of the process was for.

Designed for removing and destroying the functions of bioweapons, Irving had his own specialty nanobots that acted as programmable killer T-cells, which would be added to the ingoing blood. This was less designed as a treatment for individuals and more of a planetary defence to neutralize captured plague carriers, and the price was matched to the market- this was a form of liquid gold he was still so quick to give to her.

But Brax had more than enough money for anything, and also many unconventional needs. One of which being saving his best friend and love.

After being given those billions of credits as treatment, she'd need to go on another filtration cycle to remove them again and whatever microscopic debris the destroyed cyber nanites could leave behind. At least she was asleep, or this would be truly miserable for her.

Bernice would need to lay here roughly eight hours to even completely stop the damage, let alone start reversing any of it.

Unfortunately, Irving was so busy with the urgent list of things to do that he couldn't keep watch of her the entire time, and called over one of the secondary porters to track and notify him to the various intervals towards completion of the cycle.

As he stepped out of the room, he looked back, making a quiet promise combined with a prayer that he knew no one else would hear, "Bernice, my dear, I won't be long. You'll always have me by your side, if you'll grant me that honour. I love you above all else. So you won't die. Not today, maybe not ever. Not if I have anything to say about it. So please. Stay. I won't be sane without you. But if not for me, then for your son. Please."

He seemed shaky as he left, breathing shallowly. Braxiatel was still shocked to his core about what had happened under his watch. They'd broken this whole plot wide open, but at what cost? If it was anyone else, he might not even have cared. But it just had to be her.

Ignoring his previous statement to the Doctor, he moved his ship again and it slotted itself nearly into his office. He'd be dealt with later.

Braxiatel sat down and noticed that when it reshaped itself, minus the lamp, the TARDIS had made his desk exactly to how it had been before his rush of anger, including repotting the Veronica plant. However it had changed the theme of its interior, the wood panelling it had settled on was back to the classic white marble, more accurate to the original Versailles then it had been recently. Bright and ornate, not dim and moody, perhaps in order to cheer him up.

He exhaled slowly, eyes closed.

"Thank you."

Sitting down, the holocorder was active in seconds, dialling up the direct line to Emperor Shen. Calling him, however, as with any monarch, meant the hold was going to be long and arduous.

He waited, meanwhile recounting the knowledge he had when he was part of Bernice and she was part of him, considering all the possibilities that he could've still missed, scribbling down various notes that might soon help him parse out the bigger picture.

The bypass codes meant that finally, when the line opened, it wasn't a messenger that could report it back to anyone else.

"Why have you called me, Irving Braxiatel? Have you not spoken to Ambassador Kothar?"

"I have, emperor. But I'm afraid-"

"That you wish to breach our treaty?"

He put his hands up in the air, yielding to the will of the emperor, "No, no. I simply can't speak to anyone else, because of how sensitive this information is. We've become aware that Ambassador Kothar has betrayed you."

The hologram raised a suspicious eyebrow. "Indeed? Go on."

Irving steepled his fingers and took the time to explain, "He wants the war as an oppourtunity to seize power. And he's collaborating with Cybermen in order to advance it. One of your colonies had been manufacturing them before the process was halted."

"Cybermen?" he hissed, obviously perturbed.

Brax put on a grim, sympathetic, but not quite fearful mask, "Yes, indeed. The barrier around the Collection isn't up because of you, your majesty. It's because of them. This is in my self-interest because we have reason to suspect that this is also in order to capture my planetoid."

Shen nodded. "I see. Your word has held trust for many years, Braxiatel. Kothar and his subordinates will be investigated. And if they are guilty, executed," he stated matter-of-factly.

The corner of Brax's mouth turned up smugly, "Thank you, that's all I ask in order for my people to be safe. And yours as well," he added, casting himself before the Emperor to garner favour and carefully omitting the Mim. Wanting to commit genocide on them or not, that didn't mean the Draconian government was ever fond of them.

Shen continued, "...However, if you are found to have taken action against the Draconian Empire, you will be declared a traitor and our treaties will be rendered null."

Brax was afraid of that. His face fell. Would destroying the production line count? And Bernice- she didn't have papers when she visited their colony. However, the method of imprisonment and supposed punishment was unlawful... These next few rounds of politics were already turning out to be the most complex and delicate in years.

Not that he thought that Shen could execute him, but he did worry for everything else. Taking Cybermen out of the equation meant a Mim-Draconian war could still happen over protecting the Collection. It would be far worse with than without, but it would be better for everyone that neither come to fruition.

Luckily, his negotiative skills would undoubtedly shine through in the end. Putting on a relaxed demeanour, he almost chuckled slightly, "I assure you, Emperor, this is entirely the truth. We really don't wish to need to fight Draconia, but if you don't believe me and allow this to continue, we will defend ourselves. This peace has been precious and I would never break it unless absolutely necessary."

"I understand, Braxiatel. A war would be... unpleasant."

"Indeed, your majesty. Ambassador Kothar was a collaborator in our endeavors and close acquaintance to me for many years. 'Tis just as much of a shame for me to learn of his actions as it must be for you," he lied. He never cared much for Kothar, but they kept things professional. Not anymore.

Evidently his false sincerity was convincing enough that it seemed to sway the Emperor more towards his side. "Of course. I suppose that if he is not found guilty of your accusations, you had reasonable enough suspicions anyway and that a new ambassador to your collection and the Mim should be selected."

"Thank you. It pains me to say this about him, really. But I was left with no choice, if it means saving billions of lives and many resources. It's been an era of prosperity for all the members of our little alliance, why break it?"

This was true, and finally brought Shen to reach his own position. However, he warned, "It will be done, Braxiatel. I hope my trust in you will not be shaken. If it is, I'm afraid that the last thing you see will be my blade."

"I take the risk gladly. Goodbye, Emperor?"

"Goodbye, Braxiatel."

The communication closed.

Several minutes passed, and there was a knock on the door.

"Come in."

It unlocked at his word, and was pushed open by none other than a man with a green velvet jacket, a cravat, and a mass of soft auburn curls on his head. His eyes weren't bright as they usually were now, not with how things were going.

"How's Bernice?"

Braxiatel barely looked up at his estranged brother, but wasn't hostile about his answer, "We'll see soon. Even before starting recovery, she could be in the medbay for over twelve hours. Being in her head- I won't say much so as not to violate her privacy- but despite my skills, it wasn't pleasant. She's seen too much."

Far too much.

The Doctor nodded, "I thought so, yes. I'll have to speak with her once she's well enough. About this, and just catching up together in general. It has been a long time, hasn't it?" he commented.

Brax shrugged. "I wouldn't know. But you're here so I can take you back, aren't you?"

The Doctor feigned a shocked expression. "How did you know?"

"I told you to."

"You know I don't do as I'm told," he joked.

"Quite. Except if it meant getting back to your TARDIS."

"True."

Irving started to tell the Doctor what his plan was. It was simple now, really. A little deal, in exchange for the nearly botched rescue. "I'll wire up the artron energy tracker with precise readings, and we'll find it. In return you'll find the Seal piece and bring it back? You won't have to find Joseph, I'll give him your coordinates and he can fly to you."

"Yes, I will. And as much as I see your collection as dusty..." He trailed off before saying something that even resembled singing his praises, about it being the safest place for improbable and unstable objects he could think of.

Braxiatel could only roll his eyes.

"Thanks."

In their banter, they failed to even notice that the TARDIS had turned back into a TARDIS again until Irving instinctively started working the console.

It took mere minutes to get everything connected back up, and they were off.