My Mission Through Space and Time

by truenarnian

When my sister disappeared, I thought the world had ended. At least, my world had. But then I met the Doctor, an extraordinary man who seemed to know everything: past, future, you name it, he knew it. Allying myself with him was a no-brainer. As it turns out, I would learn so much from him, and he would learn from me. (Doctor and OC, but not romantic)

5. Chapter 5: Why

Chapter 5- Why

The night we spent grieving with Herod was horrible. We all reacted differently: Herod tried to maintain a brave face, but sometimes he'd catch my eye or the Doctor's, and then he'd leave the room. The Doctor paced back and forth, sometimes checking the screwdriver and other times talking quietly to himself, not seeming to be any closer to a solution as the night wore on. I simply sat in a soft, luxurious chair, overflowing with the color red, and stared into space, drinking wine the same color as my cushions. No one spoke to me. No one looked at me. Just how I wanted it.

Hekate's death had reawaked memories I'd locked away so I'd never have to feel them again. I thought of my mother, and how it had felt to lose her. I thought of my dad, and the feeling of unreality I had been struck by when the police told me my father had been killed. Those days…those days were the worst I had ever been through. That feeling that you're completely unprotected, that anything can hurt you…no one should ever experience it.

Yet everyone must.

Herod had ordered Hekate's marble remains to be brought back to his house; he asked the Doctor and I over, to try and solve the mystery of her death. We'd asked him all the usual questions, but nothing other than Hekate getting bumped by some stranger seemed to stand out. In fact, none of us were making much progress. The Doctor paced as Herod cried as I sat and stared. The only one who might've been close was the Doctor, but his thoughts seemed too wild to come up with a cohesive plan. Herod was too sad to think of anything, and I was busy flashing back to the worst moments of my life.

I thanked God (or Zeus, or Hades, or whoever was listening) that Herod and Hekate hadn't had any children. It would've made everything worse. A crying child is a travesty the universe should never have produced. I remembered Naomi, who had started sobbing when I told her about Dad; her tears made everything worse. None of us were in any fit state to break news to a son or daughter: Herod would break down again, the Doctor seemed to be in significant denial, and I don't think I'd be able to speak.

Hell of a first trip in the TARDIS.

"There's got to be something I'm missing!" the Doctor exclaimed. "There's something that refuses to fit in."

"Then calm down, and start from the beginning." It was the first time I had spoken in hours. My voice didn't even sound like it was mine. "Tell me everything—slowly." I could see the Doctor's hesitation: he knew what watching Hekate die like that had done to me, and he didn't want to make me any worse. "Don't hold anything back. Anything."

The Doctor suppressed a sigh and sat on the broad, stone windowsill. "The first time we saw Hekate, she had been stabbed or pricked or…whatever, by someone she believes to be Medusa."

I sat up and placed the wineglass on the windowsill. "And while you were treating the injury, you noticed abnormalities, which were…?" The Doctor hesitated. "Doctor—"

"There were traces of an extraterrestrial life form in the wound," the Doctor explained, looking anywhere but at me. "They were too faint to trace to their origin."

"Could you identify the life form?"

He sighed. "No."

I chewed the inside of my cheek. "Okay: so we know she was pricked by something not from Earth. And then…and then we investigated the furniture showroom. The culprit was probably hiding in there: that's why we missed it, it must look exactly like a statue."

"And then we followed its trail to Hekate," the Doctor said.

We sat silently for a moment, reflecting on our first adventure together. The Doctor warned me it was dangerous: he never said it would be frightening.

"What did you mean before, when you said the protein in her body was being replaced?" I asked. I was careful not to use Hekate's name.

"Something was taking all the protein out of her body and replacing it with inorganic matter," the Doctor drawled.

"Okay…why?"

The question, innocent enough in my eyes, seemed to trigger a reaction in the Doctor. He looked directly at me for the first time in hours, his barely-there eyebrows pulling together. "Say that again," he ordered.

"…Why?" I repeated, confused. I wasn't sure if I was simply carrying out his request or asking why I should.

He leaped to his feet from the windowsill, showing a sort of tentative excitement. "That's the question we should be asking," he said, pointing at me. "We've been too busy asking 'who' or 'what', but never 'why'. We've been trying to figure out what the cause was, but never the reason." He beamed at me proudly. "You're brilliant, Erica. Truly, truly brilliant!" The Doctor spun around gleefully, his green velvet coat whirling behind him. "Now then: why? Why would someone masquerade as one of the most terrifying mythical creatures known to the universe, stab an innocent passerby, and then leech all their protein away?"

"Well, why would they need protein?" I asked, rising from my seat. "Everyone needs protein, sure, but what creature would need it so badly- and have the capability- to steal it from another life form?"

"The particles in the wound were in the same family as the Pyrovilians," the Doctor said, losing me. "But not the same genus. They both relate to stone, but the gene isn't present in this life form."

"Uh…what's 'Pyrovilian'?" I asked.

"Aliens that invaded Pompeii," the Doctor explained shortly. "But the Pyrovilians were actual rock: whatever this is, it isn't. Unless…" His speech suddenly cut off as some great epiphany dawned on him. "Oh."

"What? What is it?" I asked frantically. "Do you know what happened?"

The Doctor still had that shock on his face. I couldn't shake him out of it—literally. I was contemplating throwing the rest of my drink in his face when he breathed, "Oh, that sly dog."

It was ages until the Doctor actually told me (and Herod, because for some unknown reason the Doctor saw fit to bring a mourning husband along) what was going on. Only when we had left the house and were marching down the road did the Doctor enlighten Herod and I. The Doctor seems to love being the only one in the room who knows something. Either that, or he just forgot to tell us.

"It's a Craggaron," the Doctor had explained, with poor Herod looking hopelessly lost. "A Craggaron's a distant relative of the Pyrovilians. They share the same proportions and biology, except for one single factor: Pyrovilians are stone, and Craggarons are not."

"But the thing in the furniture showroom," I butted in, "the thing there was all rocky and cracked; plus, it left a dusty trail."

"Well, that's also explained by their relation to Pyrovilians," the Doctor said. "Craggarons, normally, are flesh and blood; but if they're gravely injured, then all the protein in their bodies goes to heal those injuries. Any source possible- their skin, organs, muscles- anything that has protein will donate it."

"But if all that protein is spent healing that wound…" I trailed off.

The Doctor nodded. "Then that leaves it to be desired in the rest of their bodies," he finished. "Because of the deficiencies, the rest of their body turns to stone—it's just a fact of their biology."

"So you're saying," Herod began slowly, struggling to keep up (both with the conversation and the pace of our stride), "that this…this Craggaron creature stole my wife's…what is it, again?"

"Protein," I supplied. "Sort of like a life force."

"So the Craggaron drained my wife of 'protein' in order to heal itself?"

"Exactly," the Doctor and I said at the same time. The Doctor added, "It's also worth noting that they can't actually turn you to stone by looking at you: they're not Gorgons, that's complete myth."

"I'm sorry," Herod said, bringing all three of us to a halt. "I-I can't understand. Why did this happen?"

"It's all part of Craggaron biology," the Doctor explained, hopelessly missing the point. "They can take another organism's protein by pricking them once with a venomous sting to prep the enzymes for abduction, and then they touch them once more to complete the actual transfer. It's a nice and neat system, actually. It would be admirable if—"

"That's not what I meant," Herod interrupted, his voice cracking. Only then did the Doctor realize he had made Herod worse. I pitied Herod; I knew how he felt right now.

"Herod," I said, drawing him off to the side. "Whatever you're feeling right now, I understand; really, I do. It might feel like…like this just happened to Hekate specifically, as if Zeus struck her down on purpose. But remember: the fault lies with her killer. Not Hekate, not you, not the gods. It's the Craggaron's fault, and the Craggaron's alone."

It was the first time Hekate's name had been mentioned to Herod since she died, and I couldn't tell how it affected him. His face was unreadable; I couldn't tell whether it had been a good idea or not to say all that. After an interminable pause where Herod thought, I hoped, and the Doctor watched on the sidelines, Herod looked up at us at last.

"You're not from this place, are you?" he said in a low voice. "You're from somewhere fantastical, where everything makes sense and people know what to say."

"Yes, we are," I answered. "And we can stop this thing from ever hurting anyone like it hurt Hekate again. You can help us. Will you?"

Another long pause, and Herod answered, "Yes, I will."

I smiled and let out a breath I didn't know I was holding. "Thank you, Herod," I said sincerely.

"Not at all," he replied. "Hermia, you are quite the orator."

I was confused for a moment before I remembered that that was what I had told him to call me. "That's not—" I began, but then I saw the Doctor making frantic nods out of the corner of my eye, dragging a finger across his neck in the typical, "Don't!" fashion. "That's not something you hear every day," I finished, smiling.

"You should hear it every day," Herod finished, before turning to face the Doctor. "Where are we headed?"

"Back to the showroom," the Doctor said, holding up the sonic screwdriver. "Back to its lair." He began buzzing the screwdriver, looking for traces of Craggaron. Apparently, he hit a trail: the screwdriver began buzzing a higher note and the Doctor took off at a sprint, leaving Herod and I in his dust.

"Are you insane?" Herod yelled as we tried to keep up.

"A bit!" the Doctor replied, pointing the sonic screwdriver ahead of him, as if he were holding back an excited dog on a leash. The Doctor kept running and Herod and I kept following, until we ended up in the alley where the Doctor had first treated Hekate and pronounced her healthy.

The Doctor skidded to a stop, gesturing for Herod and I to do the same. He kept following the trace with the screwdriver, but now stepped forward hesitantly, keeping an arm out so Herod and I couldn't go in front of him. The sound of the screwdriver kept getting shriller until it was pointed directly at the wall.

"A dead end?" I panted. "Are you kidding? Your stupid, futuristic, cherished Buzz Wand led us to a dead end?"

"Doctor Satorno, what is the meaning of this?" Herod demanded (though it would've sounded much more intimidating if he hadn't been gasping for breath).

"It's not led us wrong," the Doctor said, switching settings on the screwdriver. "Rather, it's leading…us…on." He flicked tiny, clawed attachments out of the tip (an admittedly impressive feature I had not seen before) and pressed a button on the butt of the screwdriver, pointing it at the wall. Suddenly, the marble seemed to shimmer and wave, the image being replaced by a cloudy portal.

"What magic is this?" Herod said in fearful awe.

I reached out to touch the portal; as soon as my fingertips hit it, the portal waved out like a raindrop hitting water, and a great rush of wind blew through it.

"So the Craggaron wasn't hiding in the showroom at all," the Doctor said, examining the portal's shimmering edges. "The showroom was just the entrance gate."

"So…to get to the Craggaron," I said, "we have to go through the portal. How do we not know it's waiting for us?"

"You don't," Herod said. He pushed up between the Doctor and I, moving us aside so he could face the portal head-on. "You don't know what's waiting for you on the other side."

"Herod—" the Doctor began.

"Don't try to talk me out of this, Doctor," Herod interrupted. "You and your companion are the ones who can vanquish this beast in Athens; perhaps the only ones in all of Greece. I am unnecessary."

"No, Herod, you're not," I said, catching on. "Everyone's necessary to something."

"I was necessary to Hekate," Herod said, fighting back emotion. "She needed me, but she doesn't anymore. Now you need me to see what's waiting on the other side. I assume there is one?"

I nodded solemnly.

"Well then; that settles it," Herod declared. "If I'm not back shortly, take it as an evil omen. Do not come through. I shall look for a way to stop the Craggaron from coming back."

"Herod, you don't have to do this," the Doctor said.

Herod turned to look at the Doctor. "Don't I, though?" he replied. He looked back at me one last time and said, "Thank you, Hermia. You've helped me so much."

"That's not my real name, Herod," I said gently. This man was giving up his life for me: I should at least reveal the truth, no matter how insignificant it might be. "I'm really called Erica."

"Erica," Herod repeated softly. "I'm glad you have that name. 'Erica' suits you better." He took a deep breath. "I shall hope to see you shortly," he said, stepping through the portal just as the sun set.

I would say the Doctor and I waited with bated breath for him to return, except I don't remember breathing at all. I do remember, however, the Doctor slipping his hand into mine, and my strong grip in return.

"If he doesn't come back," I began in a low voice, "you're going to go through anyway, aren't you?"

"It's my duty," the Doctor answered, just as quietly. "It's my duty to him, to Hekate, and to any other victims the Craggaron's taken, and any it might take in the future."

"Then I'm going in, too," I said. I could feel the Doctor's building protest, but I cut it off before it could begin. "If it's your duty to avenge the Craggaron's victims, then it's my duty to make sure you do it right."

The Doctor stayed silent, processing my declaration. We shared the quiet as we waited with growing impatience for Herod to return, until I broke the tension.

"Doctor, I'm sorry," I apologized. The words didn't really want to come out—I don't like apologizing because then I have to admit to myself I'm wrong. But if I might die, and if the Doctor might die, then he needs to hear this. "I'm sorry I ran off in the showroom earlier, and for not trusting you. You've done nothing but try to help me, and it wasn't fair for me to accuse you of anything."

"Oh, Erica," the Doctor said, emotion finally coming back into his voice. "Erica, you never needed to apologize for that. I completely understand."

"That doesn't make it okay."

"It does for me." The Doctor looked down at me, a hint of a smile on his face. "Erica, you are completely forgiven. I wouldn't have expected any less from you—or really, anyone. Of course you don't trust me. Hopefully, you will, someday. But you don't need to trust me if you want to find your sister."

"But I do," I said. "I do trust you. You've done everything I asked you to do. You saved my life after I had stormed away from you. Only an idiot wouldn't trust you after that." Finally, I looked up at his eyes, which were soft with happiness. "Are we…good?" I asked tentatively.

The Doctor laced his fingers with mine and brought our joined hands up, as if presenting evidence. "We're good."

Suddenly, a great rush of wind blew my hair and the Doctor's coat back, and then Herod reappeared in our midst, slightly out of breath.

"It's safe," he declared. "The Craggaron isn't in immediate sight. I say we plan a full frontal assault, using local troops—"

"All right, mate," the Doctor interrupted bracingly, clapping Herod on the shoulder. "I'd say the three of us should be enough to stop this thing, don't you?"

"We're the only ones?" Herod spluttered. "But surely, to ward off such a massive creature—"

"This creature needs our help," the Doctor cut off. "If we run in guns- no, sorry, not yet- if we run in spears blazing, the Craggaron's gonna do nothing but fight us. If just the three of us go, then it might be more open to negotiation."

"Well, fine," Herod said, glancing worriedly towards me. "But should she come? Surely a gentlewoman would be safer out of the conflict."

Athenians, I thought. Lovely architecture, but positively medieval. "If you think I'm going to sit and wait for you to come back," I retorted, "then you've got another thing coming. Doctor?" I held out my arm, waiting for him to take it.

The Doctor smiled softly as he looped his arm through mine. "Are you sure you want to come along, though?" the Doctor said under his breath. "Nothing against your gender—it's just that, you know, there's a very real chance the Craggaron will hurt you…"

I rolled my eyes. "Do I have to repeat myself?" I said, sounding more confident that I felt. The Doctor didn't exactly seem happy with my decision, but he went along with it. We swiveled our heads to face the portal. "On three?"

The Doctor nodded. "One."

Herod stepped up to my other side and gave me a bracing nod. "Two."

I jerked my head in return. "Three."

"Geronimo," the Doctor whispered as we stepped through the portal.