A/N: So I had a bad week, which made for this massive delay, the first in nearly five years, but I'm all caught up now, and the chapters/stories will be rolling out over the evening, before things get back on track tomorrow :)

"Ex Memoria"

6. The Curator

Chicago, Illinois - in the year 2021

There was never really any question to it. When the Doctor said he wanted to track down whoever was in charge here, it just went without saying that Mike and Tina would be following along. As far as the Doctor, Amy and Rory were concerned the couple had only been there and had been observant enough that they'd picked up on what was happening around them with the painting and it's effects. It had never occurred to them that the couple had been told to go to the museum in order to run into the Doctor. All the same, maybe the couple was realizing that their being there might have been beneficial to the Doctor and saved him some valuable time in doing what needed to be done out resolve this situation.

They had been guided to the curator's office. Amy had wondered why the Doctor wouldn't just examine the painting with his sonic screwdriver or some other device or cleverness, but the Doctor had been immediate and clear on this: until further notice, they were not to go anywhere near that painting. Keeping a safe distance might end up saving their lives and their minds.

"Won't that be a problem then?" Rory asked as they neared the curator's office.

"What'd you mean?" Amy wondered.

"We're not meant to go near it, alright. But what about her?" he pointed to the door where they could read the woman's name as Gillian Moran Fiorentino. "And tour guides, and anyone who works here... They'll be affected, too, maybe more than any others."

Already they had reached a plausible-though-incredible hypothesis that somehow the connection forced onto them while standing in front of that painting allowed for one's memory to be taken and transferred into another's mind. They hadn't all figured out exactly what this would mean in the long run, but the Doctor looked to have a fairly good idea of it, and he looked mildly distressed.

They had gone so far as to knock at the woman's door before a young man had approached them.

"Are you looking for Miss Moran Fiorentino?" he asked cautiously.

"We are, and does she really have to be called by both of those names every time?" the Doctor asked. The young man looked perturbed.

"Miss Moran Fiorentino is... indisposed at the moment. I can take a message, if you'd like, although..."

"Although what?" the Doctor got closer in the young man's face, sensing that pressing authority on to him would help them get more answers.

"The thing is... I'm not entirely sure when... when she might be... disposed, she..." He didn't want to say, whether out of respect for the woman or for his job.

"Doctor, maybe we can..." Amy started to say, and then the young man cut her off.

"You're a doctor?" he asked, then, "What kind?"

"Is something wrong with Miss Moran?" the Doctor asked.

"Fiorentino," the young man breathed.

"Yes, that one, too." He still hesitated briefly, and they could sense something like protectiveness in him. The Doctor was quick to put two and two together. "She's entrusted you with a secret, hasn't she?" The young man looked around.

"No one knows, please..."

"What's your name?"

"Chris."

"Chris, whatever you tell us, it will stay between us, alright?" the Doctor promised. Chris took a breath.

"I think it's better I show you."

Chris led the group of four out of the offices and down into the basements. As they went, they were given their first inklings as to what they were about to be presented with. Miss Moran Fiorentino had begun displaying some strange behavior only six days before. Mike had been the one to ask how long the painting of the couple in the rain had been on display, and Chris had confirmed it had been in the museum for seven days, on display for four. He wouldn't say it, but they could see in his face how he didn't believe it should have all happened so fast. Whether he understood the correlation between the painting and his boss' condition was left to be seen.

Miss Moran Fiorentino's symptoms had not been so pronounced on that first day, but they had existed. Then on the second day it was so very worse, and by the third… As bad as it was getting, for a while, she still had the presence of mind to understand part of what was happening to her and what would become of her as it progressed.

"She wouldn't leave. She said if she did she would only hurt people."

"Hurt them how?" Tina asked, and Chris looked at her.

"Back when she still remembered who she was, she thought she might be contagious." There was a pause.

"Well we've already seen the painting, haven't we?" the Doctor eventually pointed out. "No sense diving for protection now, is there?"

So they had proceeded, and they'd come to the locked room. Chris had the key, and when he opened the door, they could already hear the mutterings.

The woman they found crouched in a corner of the room might once have been a sleek and sharp dressed sort of person, but here now she was anything but. The first words they heard coming from her were repeated, whimpered, pleading.

"I don't know… I don't know… I don't know…"

"Miss… Gillian?" the Doctor tried.

"I don't know… I don't know…" He approached her with caution.

"My name's the Doctor…" The last word seemed to connect with some part of her.

"I stand by what I did, I saved that patient's life," she declared, momentarily firm and on point. But then just as fast, she melted back into uncertainty. "I'm no surgeon…" she breathed.

"No, I didn't think you were," the Doctor nodded. She looked around the room.

"I robbed a place like this once. They locked me up for fifteen years," her voice roughened, then slipped into another wail. "I don't know… I don't know…" She looked up once again, snatching up the Doctor's hands, staring into his eyes, pleading. "Make it stop…"

TO BE CONTINUED (TOMORROW)