Molly took the Doctor's offered hand, following him curiously into the console room. Last night's Christmas party had hurt more than she'd thought it would. It had been months since she'd seen Sherlock Holmes. She'd thought she was over him – or at least that she was strong enough not to care what he'd said. But she'd been wrong. It still hurt when his words brought everything crumbling down. He'd exposed her feelings in front of everyone, and he hadn't even realized.
The worst part was realizing she was still head over heels for him. It was so senseless. He was rude, brutal with his words, oblivious, insulting, and clearly didn't give a damn about her. She knew that it was stupid to care about him, she didn't want to care about him. And yet she still felt herself longing for something more with the man who used her only when he needed her. At least she'd stood up to him, but it didn't change how she felt, and how he made her feel, the way he could cut her open with a few choice words. She'd grown so much since traveling with the Doctor, but realizing her feelings for Sherlock had made her feel so weak again. She was weak for caring about him.
One of the comforts of the evening, besides Sherlock's exceedingly rare apology, had been the Doctor's reaction. Usually only dangerous enemies were able to wake the Oncoming Storm inside him, but Molly was pretty sure she'd seen some of it last night, boiling under the surface. The words "protective big brother" were brought to mind again, bringing a slight smile to her face. The Time Lord's support meant a lot to her.
As they entered the console room, Molly hung back as the Doctor started up the flight sequence, watching him curiously. "Where are we going?" she asked.
"It's a surprise," the Time Lord told her with a grin. "But you'll like it, I promise." Molly couldn't help but grin back. It was clear the Doctor was trying to cheer her up, and she appreciated the effort. Besides, there could be literally anything behind the TARDIS doors this time. She could feel some of the earlier hurt fading in the face of excitement. Where would they be this time? An alien planet? Sipping tea with Queen Elizabeth? Seeing the invention of the motion picture? The possibilities were endless. She had opened that door so many times, but it never got old, the feeling of wonder as she stepped out into a whole new world, wondering what was about to unfold. That was the magic of the TARDIS, and that's what the Doctor offered her as consolation today. She couldn't say how glad she was to have a friend like him.
The Doctor threw the TARDIS into flight. By now, Molly was an expert at keeping her footing during the turbulence, and was still standing when the TARDIS landed. That was an added benefit of the months of travel, along with the confidence and knowledge of aliens. Improved balance was definitely a plus for a klutz like her.
The Time Lord bounded over to the front door, opening it with an exaggerated flourish for Molly. She hurried eagerly towards the door, stepping out to see what it was that awaited her.
As she took the first steps outside, the Doctor announced grandly, "Welcome to the bright, sunny island of… oh." He trailed off as he took in their surroundings, which were neither bright nor sunny, and almost certainly not where he'd intended to take them.
They were outside a building surrounded by a great wooden fence. The building looked like a mansion, but something was off. The fence was a spiky, crudely-built thing that stretched almost to the roof of the two-story mansion. It looked more like it belonged around a prison than a house.
The Doctor raised his eyebrows at the sight of the house. "Well. Not quite what I was expecting." She couldn't help but roll her eyes. He really was hopeless at flying the TARDIS, no matter what he tried to claim. The Time Lord turned to her with a conspiratorial grin and added, "Still, big scary mansion, could be fun."
Molly had to hold back a chuckle at the Doctor's childishness. He paused for a moment, suddenly looking concerned. "Unless you prefer bright and sunny?"
The pathologist blinked in surprise. The Doctor must really be concerned about her if he was willing to give up weird and mysterious for safe and sunny. Molly grinned, assuring him, "The mansion works for me." She could do with a wild alien chase to take her mind off of last night.
He accepted this with a grin of his own, then turned back towards the fence. "Right then. Allons-y!" The Doctor offered her his arm, which she linked through hers, joining him as they began their adventure.
They began approaching the fence and the house beyond. As they neared, they noticed two men standing guard outside the fence. They didn't seem to have noticed the appearance of the big blue box, but they could definitely see the Doctor and Molly. They lowered their guns to point straight at the two travelers. The Doctor and Molly froze, but didn't raise their hands above their hands.
One of the guards barked out, "Halt! What are you doing here? This site is not for civilians!" They both glared at the newcomers with cold, steely expressions, hands completely steady on their guns. Molly knew without being told that they knew how to use the weapons they held and that they would without hesitation.
As ever, the Doctor acted like he didn't notice their hostility. He flashed them an easy grin, but Molly knew him well enough that she could see how he'd tensed, how his gaze had sharpened as he watched their guns and assessed the threat. "Oh, hello there. Nice place you've got here. Now, if you don't mind, I think this'll explain everything." He held up his psychic paper for them to see. Molly shot him a concerned look. Usually he babbled longer before pulling out the psychic paper.
The guards exchanged a suspicious glance, then one approached, snatching the psychic paper from the Doctor's hand. His eyes widened in surprise and respect. "You're from Moscow?" The guard handed him the psychic paper, the aggression fading from his stance. "I apologize. We had no word that you were coming."
"Yeah, well, surprise inspection," the Doctor dismissed breezily. He and Molly walked carelessly past the guard towards the fence. Still looking nervously respectful, the two guards opened the gate and led the travelers towards the house.
As the guard went to open the front door for them, he gave them a queer, stiff smile. "Welcome to the House of Special Purpose."
SCENEBREAK
"Welcome to the House of Special Purpose."
The Doctor blinked at the guard, the name sending a shiver through him. He'd had a bad feeling when he'd seen those guards and that house. Something about it had just seemed... wrong. It had taken him a bit to notice, but now it was like there were little ripples of wrong in the air. And now, that name, the House of Special Purpose. He was sure he'd heard the name before, somewhere, somewhere, but it was like a flicker in the back of his brain, something there that he just couldn't grasp. All he knew was that it was bad, and that bad things would come of it.
Molly shot him a concerned look. She was getting good at telling when something was wrong, but he didn't want her to worry, not today. This was supposed to be him cheering her up. So he forced a cheerful grin, whether she bought it or not, and followed the guard into the house.
The interior of the house contradicted the intimidating, grim exterior. Decorative wallpaper and furniture that looked like it'd been used and lived in, yet still looked tasteful. Books were stacked casually in a bookcase, the covers slightly worn through use, and a few potted plants were scattered about. Yet the Doctor still felt that something was terribly off about the place. It felt fake, constricting, like there wasn't room to breathe.
The guard led them through the house to a formal, dusty office. Behind a desk sat a middle-aged man with a dark beard and curly hair. He wore a black leather jacket that accented his dark hair, with dark pants to match. There was a cold glint in his eyes, something in his posture that made the Doctor think dangerous. Not soldier exactly, but something trained, something calculating. The guard nodded respectfully to the man. "Yurovsky, these people are from Moscow. A Doctor and a Molly Hooper. Doctor, this is Comrade Yurovsky. He's the commandant of this house."
The commandant's eyes narrowed. "A doctor? I don't know what help you could expect to be here. But of course, you're free to look at what you will."
The Doctor nodded silently, but inside his mind was reeling. Yurovsky. Yurovsky, Yurovsky, Yurovsky. He knew that name, knew it, knew it, but he couldn't place... oh. Oh.
Now he remembered. Now he understood. Where they were, when they were, what was happening. And why he had to get Molly the hell out of there as fast as possible. The wrongness was stronger now, thick in the air, and he knew why.
A fixed point.
Not a big one, not like Pompeii for example, but a nasty one, one that would only be painful to see, and he didn't want to put Molly through that. But if they left now, Yurovsky would know something was up, and there were too many guns to get past.
For now, at least, they'd have to play along.
SCENEBREAK
Molly had sensed something was off with the Doctor earlier, but now she was sure something was wrong. There was dark concern in his eyes, something brooding. She knew something was wrong, but she knew better than to press him about it now.
The Time Lord told Yurovsky breezily, "Yeah, we'll just have a quick look-around and be on our way then, eh?"
He nodded. "Of course. I'll have the prisoners line up in the drawing room." Molly blinked in surprise. Prisoners? So she was right in thinking the place looked like it'd been done up like a prison. But why? Who were the prisoners. She considered asking, but whatever the psychic paper had shown them seemed to make him they were rather high up on the ladder. Asking questions would just look suspicious. She did look questioningly at the Doctor to see if he knew, but the Time Lord had turned stoney-faced, disgust and anxiety just barely visible in his eyes. He didn't reply to the commandant's offer.
Yurovsky raised an eyebrow at the Doctor's silence. "You are here to see the prisoners, aren't you? This late, I don't see any other reason for someone from Moscow to come here, and certainly a doctor is interested in people, not interior design." There was sharp suspicion in his tone. Molly wasn't entirely sure what was going on, but she could see that refusing would only cause more suspicion.
"That will be fine, thank you," she told the man instead. The Doctor threw her a sharp glance, but she ignored him. She wasn't sure what was up with him, but they were only going to get out of this by playing along, and that was something they were good at.
The suspicion didn't dissipate entirely, but Yurovsky just nodded in response. "Very well. I'll have them brought out for you." He nodded to the guard. "Ivashov, show them to drawing room."
SCENEBREAK
As the guard led them through the house, Molly and the Doctor fell far back enough that they could whisper. "Doctor, what's going on here? Do you know where we are?"
The Doctor nodded sharply. "Not anywhere good."
She fought back a flicker of irritation as she hissed, "I got that, thanks. Anything else?"
He sighed, then explained in his usual rapid-fire, "You know how we go through time, past, present future, changing events as we go? Time is usually in flux, anything can be changed or altered, and the universe mostly compensates for the changes. But there are points, certain fixed points, that can't be changed at all. It's dangerous, and it tears at the fabric of time. Messing with them can tear the universe apart."
"What kind of events?"
"Usually pivotal historical moments," he told her. "Y'know, Pompeii, WWIII, assassinations, the like."
Molly nodded to show she understood. "Right. So you're saying right we're at a fixed point now?"
He sighed. "I can feel it. It's part of the whole Time Lord time thing. The closer we get to the event, the more I can feel it."
"And we can't change anything at all? Is our being here now hurting the timeline?" she asked worriedly.
"Nah," the Doctor said, "otherwise I'd feel it. Right now we're just at the previews, it's the main event we need to stay away from. Can't be more than a few days away." He raised his voice so the guard ahead of them could hear. "Sorry, your name was Ivashov, right? Do you know what the date is?" The guard gave him a queer look, so he starting rambling excuses. "I'm rubbish at dates, me, can't keep 'em straight in my head to save my life."
After giving him that strange glance for a while, the guard supplied, "July 12th."
The Doctor nodded, dropping his voice again. "Right then, five days away." He seemed to grow a bit stonier at the thought, but Molly knew that he was just wrapping up his emotions, trying not to show his distress.
"Five days away from what?" Molly asked. The Time Lord didn't answer, staring stonily ahead. Molly kept pushing, "Doctor, you know what's going to happen, just tell me."
The alien turned to her with concern in his eyes, and a tired sadness. "Are you sure you want to know?" he asked gently. "No matter how horrible it is, we won't be able to do anything to stop it. We'll have to walk away from this knowing we were there and we did nothing. Do you really want to live with that?"
The pathologist was warmed by his concern, but also, for the first time, a little irritated. He lived with things so much worse every day, and no matter what she saw, he already knew the fixed point, so he'd have to live with it. She'd looked after him for three long months without any help at all, and she was willing to share this burden too. "I'll take my chances," was all she said.
Sadness flickered in the Doctor's eyes, but he finally nodded. "Alright. But don't say I didn't warn you."
SCENEBREAK
By now they had reached a comfortable-looking room with several armchairs. Molly realized it must be the drawing room Yurovsky had mentioned. The guard slipped out, leaving them alone in the room, but only for a few moments.
From another door, Yurovsky entered, followed by an oddly familiar man. Following him was a middle-aged woman, then four girls who ranged from late teenager to early adult, the last wheeling in a young teenage boy in a wheelchair. The girls all had short, choppy hair, and all of them seemed somewhat pale and drawn, especially the two oldest girls. They all stared out at the Doctor and Molly with suspicious, defiant eyes.
Yurovsky turned to the prisoners, and told them in a sharp tone, "These people work for the Union in Moscow. You will answer any of their questions." He turned back to the Doctor, apologizing briefly, "I have to return to my duties. Ivashov will be outside the door if you require anything." With that, he swept out of the room, leaving the silent, defiant prisoners behind. The Doctor's eyes flicked briefly towards the door, but with the guard there, it would be too suspicious if they left right away. They were stuck, for now.
Molly couldn't stop staring at the boy in the wheelchair and the four girls. When Yurovsky had said "prisoners," she'd been assuming criminals, or at least people who might conceivably pose a threat, not a crippled child and four teenagers. She lowered her voice so only the Doctor could hear her. "Who are they?"
The Doctor sighed, and replied, "These are the Romanovs, the last royal family of Russia." He nodded briefly towards the man, who seemed slightly familiar with his neatly trimmed beard and mustache. "That's the former Tsar Nicholas II, who was forced by revolutionaries to abdicate in favor of the revolutionary government. That's his wife, Alexandra, and his daughters, Olga, Tatiana, Maria, and Anastasia, and his son and former heir, Aleksei. He and his family got taken hostage after he abdicated."
"And I'm sorry, Molly, I'm so sorry, but in five days' time, they're going to be executed."
Sorry for the wait guys, but that research I was talking about took a while, as did writing this chapter and planning everything out.
By research, of course, I mean re-reading the fantastic novel that was part of what inspired me to make this episode in the first place, though there are other books that have gotten me interested in the Romanovs' story. It's called "The Lost Crown" by Sarah Miller, and it's a fantastic, seriously researched account of the Romanovs' lives from the beginning of the Russian Revolution to execution in the point of view of the four Grand Duchesses; Olga, Tatiana, Maria, and Anastasia. I majorly suggest it. It's over 1000 pages long, but it's so worth it. I also read through the Wikipedia pages of the four Grand Duchesses, which basically matches everything in the book, and looked at a few websites beyond that.
I hope you like the episode I came up with. I've had this idea for a while, and though the plot itself took a while to plan out, I knew it had to include the Romanovs.