Things are gonna get a little... sad and awkward in these next few. Because my brain is in a mood, Good Omens made me sad, and I've been watching too much Lucifer. And for anyone questioning it, I don't plan on things between the Doctor and Ornias to actually be romantic. Will they do things that might seem like it? Yes, but for me they are not ever going to be an actual "couple" in the romantic sense. Ornias is someone who can't express themselves well and has to do so physically. The Doctor is simply understanding of that. Hope that comes across well in the following chapter.


"Ooh, that's a familiar smell," Ornias hummed as they stepped outside onto the cobble-stoned streets of Southwark. "Early years, hm?"

Martha was eager to question that too. "Oh, you are kidding me. You are so kidding me. Oh, my God, we did it. We traveled in time. Where are we? No, sorry. I got to get used to this whole new language. When are we?"

"Mind out," the Doctor warned, grabbing her by the arm and tugging her away from where a woman was dumping her sewage. "Somewhere before the invention of the toilet. Sorry about that." He glanced over at Ornias as she looked around with a small smile. "I hope you're not hanging out around here. We really don't need a paradox on our hands."

"No, no. I told you, my past self avoided any hints of my future self," she waved off idly. "I do believe I was in the US, taking part in the Acoma Massacre. Spaniards were always quick to take up arms when things didn't go their way. Well, not that anyone else didn't do the same. Colonizing is always messy business."

"Hold on," Martha cut in. "Are we safe? I mean, can we move around and stuff?"

Ornias and the Doctor exchanged looks before turning to her.

"Of course we can," the Doctor replied as they walked. "Why do you ask?"

"It's like in the films. You step on a butterfly, you change the future of the human race."

"Tell you what then, don't step on any butterflies. What have butterflies ever done to you?"

Ornias snickered, taking lead through the town but drifting off every so often to check in with the locals as the Doctor eyed her, hoping that their little making-up in the Tardis had truly fixed things between them and not just put them off for another time. It feels a little too easy but Ornias is… hard to read.

"What if…" Martha continued, catching up to him and drawing his thoughts away from the demon. "I don't know. What if I kill my grandfather?"

"Are you planning to?" He questioned lightly.

"No."

"Well, then."

"And this is London?"

"Absolutely," Ornias chirped, bounding back over to them with a pint of something from who knows where. "I know this smell anywhere."

"The smell of sweat and poo?" Martha teased, making Ornias hum.

"No, no. The smell of sin. London is a cesspool for it, as are many of the bigger cities and towns, no matter the time. Los Angeles is a personal fav. Singapore, Beijing, Kabukicho, Amsterdam. Oh, the trouble I can find in New Orleans or Sinaloa. Lovely stuff."

"Right. What's the year then?"

"Ooh, round about 1599," the Doctor mused, eyeing the drink Ornias had. "Where'd you get that?"

Ornias smirked. "A kind gentleman at the tavern we just passed. I find human males just don't know what to do with themselves while I'm in this form. It's quite amusing."

"1599?" Martha asked then. "Am I alright? I'm not going to get carted off as a slave, am I?"

"Why would they do that?" The Doctor questioned.

"Not exactly white, in case you haven't noticed."

"I'm not even human. Just walk about like you own the place. Works for me."

"That, and you are being accompanied by him," Ornias pointed out. "A young white, semi-wealthy male swaggering about Southwark with his two lady companions is hardly going to be accosted by slave traders. Give it a century or two and plop you both in America and perhaps you'll have a bigger problem there. England though, is far more tame, unfortunately."

"Besides, you'd be surprised. Elizabethan England, not so different from your time," the Doctor said, pointing out a few examples before grabbing Martha and dashing across the bank and around the corner within view of a large building not too far off. "Oh, yes, the Globe Theatre! Brand new. Just opened. Though, strictly speaking, it's not a globe, it's a tetradecagon. Fourteen sides. Containing the man himself."

"Whoa, you don't mean… Is Shakespeare in there?" Martha gaped.

"Oh, yes. Miss Jones, will you accompany me to the theatre?" He asked, offering her his arm that she happily looped hers into.

"Mr. Smith, I will."

"When you get home, you can tell everyone you've seen Shakespeare."

"Then I could get sectioned," she laughed before the Doctor glanced at Ornias.

"You coming too?"

Ornias hummed, sipping what was left of her drink but not looking too thrilled. "I might sit this one out."

"What? Not a fan of plays?"

"I've already seen them all. More than once and as much as I might enjoy the close proximity of the many people packed into the theatre…" She wrinkled her nose. "I don't."

"What? You'd rather go to a pub?"

"I'd enjoy far more in a pub than packed like a sardine full of people watching a story. I enjoy chaos, remember? Not joy."

He frowned lightly, disappointed but nodded, letting her go do what she wanted because, despite everything that had happened, she hadn't changed that much. She was a demon who'd lived a long life on Earth. One who experienced all the entertainment more than once and tried everything she could as she pleased. No point in dragging her around to places she didn't want to go. She'd just be bored and… He glanced at Martha as she eagerly let herself get pulled along by him into the theatre. She doesn't understand humans. Doesn't see the joy in watching them experience the impossible. She said so herself. She wants entertainment, just… not this kind of entertainment.


I ducked into a room at the nearby inn, grateful that the woman who owned the place was so easy to deal with, and sagged against the door with my arm around my stomach. I'd lied, as I usually do, though it was rare that I would lie about something like this. I grimaced, peeling away my shirt and lifting it to eye the red-soaked bandages. I sighed and dropped my head back in annoyance, letting it bounce off the door.

"Why are you being stubborn?" I ground out through clenched teeth, drawing a feather from behind my ear, sliding it over the blood, and flicking it to open my pocket dimension. "You were fine when we left the Tardis. What's your problem now?"

I pulled off my ruined shirt and torched it, digging through the pocket dimension and grumbling under my breath as I pulled out more bandages and a book. I paused, blinking at the book and flipping it to read the title.

How To Be A Good Person

For Dummies

I wrinkled my nose and threw it back in with a click of my tongue. "Damn Aziraphale."

Once I found everything I needed, I moved to sit gingerly on the bed and undo the bandages. The wound was bright red and worse than it had been when I checked it but I wasn't sure why. It shouldn't have gotten this bad. What's going on? Is this because of the change too? I wrinkled my nose in distaste and stitched the wound closed as best I could with shaking hands. Once I rebandaged it, I scowled down at my hands in annoyance. Why is this happening? I don't understand. I flexed them for a moment before letting my wings out and shifting into my more demonic form. I wasn't sure what else to do to help and was stunned when doing so made me feel physically ill.

I shifted back quickly, holding a hand to my mouth as my stomach churned. I stood up quickly only for my vision to shift and my wings to sag and quiver. Something was dangerously wrong, I realized as I sank back onto the bed breathing heavily. The Doctor. I need—I cut that thought short, teeth grit together tightly as his furious expression came to mind.

"Leave now."

I shook the thought off and took a deep breath, wincing when a ripple of pain rolled through me in the process. No. He wouldn't help. Why help a demon? He has a human he needs to worry about. I can handle it. He doesn't need to know. With a grimace, I tucked my wings away once more and moved to the door. Upon opening it, I very nearly ran into the woman who'd offered the room to me for the evening.

"Oh, excuse me," I hummed, earning a kind smile from her.

"I was just comin' up to check on ya. Anything you need? Drink, food, anything you'd like."

"Mm, anything?" I purred, leaning in, but soon pulling away sightly when my stomach reminded me of my current condition. "Though a drink and food sounds lovely at the moment. Perhaps some company as well? My… companions are off at the play this evening. I could do with something to occupy my time while I eat."

"I'm sure I could do that for ya. It's slow tonight while the play's goin'. I'll have something cooked up for you quick. Whatcha want to drink?"

I lightly placed a hand on my stomach with a grimace of a smile. "Strongest drink you've got."

"Aye, I've got just the thing."


The Doctor was quick to find the inn where Shakespeare was supposedly staying, dragging Martha along and hoping to find Ornias along the way. She'll make plenty of noise so it shouldn't be hard.

"Are we really going to see him? Actually, see Shakespeare?" Martha gushed, eager for the fun twist to her trip.

The Doctor hummed, climbing up the stairs to the room and grabbing someone as they popped around the corner and ran into him. "Whoa, there. Carefu—Ornias?"

Ornias glanced up at him from her place in his arms and wrinkled her nose in annoyance. "Oh, the buzzkill is here."

The Doctor opened his mouth to question her only to get a whiff of something rather potent. "Sorry, are you drunk?"

"Demons can't get drunk," she drawled, though the slight pink to her cheeks told a different story as she smirked and walked her fingers up his chest. "Nice catch though. Did you know this stupid rock full of apes spins at around 1,600km an hour? For a moment… I swear I just felt it move."

"I don't even want to know," he muttered, turning her around and leading her forward. "Did I mention we're going to see Shakespeare? Apparently, he's writing up a lost play. Even you might get a kick out of that."

He stepped into the room and rapped on the doorframe, eyeing the man himself as he drank with his two top actors with him.

"Hello! Excuse me, not interrupting, am I? Mr. Shakespeare, isn't it?" The Doctor chirped as Shakespeare rolled his eyes in annoyance.

"Oh, no. No, no, no. Who let you in? No autographs. No, you can't have yourself sketched with me. And please don't ask where I get my ideas from. Thanks for the interest. Now be a good boy and shove—" The playwright paused when Martha and Ornias came into view, quickly changing his mind. "Hey, nonny nonny. Sit right down here next to me. You two get sewing on them costumes. Off you go," he shooed off his actors as the owner of the inn rolled her eyes.

"Come on, lads. I think our William's found his new muses."

"Sweet ladies," Shakespeare purred, eyeing the two up and down as Martha sat across from him on his right and Ornias on his left with the Doctor in between. "Such unusual clothes. So fitted."

Ornias smirked, picking up the forgotten drink on the table. "Leaves little to the imagination, doesn't it?"

Shakespeare smirked at her before the Doctor cleared his throat awkwardly, showing Shakespeare the psychic paper.

"I'm Sir Doctor of Tardis and these my companions, Miss Martha Jones and Ornias."

"Interesting that bit of paper. It's blank," Shakespeare informed him, making him smirk.

"Oh, that's very clever. That proves it. Absolute genius," the Doctor hummed as Martha took it with a frown and Ornias smiled as well.

"Can we keep him? He looks fun."

The Doctor rolled his eyes as Martha spoke up.

"No, it says so right there. Sir Doctor, Martha Jones, Ornias. It says so," she argued, passing the paper back to the Doctor as Shakespeare cracked a small smile.

"And I say it's blank. What say you Ornias? And might I say the name is very unique. I've not heard one of its type before."

"Doesn't work on me, that thing," Ornias waved off before leaning on the table and lightly touching Shakespeare's hand. "Though the flirting is fun. Writers are always romantics at heart, aren't they?"

"It's a psychic paper," the Doctor blurted out, drawing Shakespeare's attention away from Ornias briefly. "Long story. Oh, I hate starting from scratch."

"Psychic? Never heard that before and words are my trade. Who are you exactly? More's the point, who is your delicious blackamoor lady and beautiful seductress?"

"You flatter me, good sir," Ornias hummed as Martha spoke up in offense.

"What did you say?"

Seeing he'd offended her, Shakespeare was quick to try and mend things.

"Oops. Isn't that a word we use nowadays? An Ethiop girl? A swarth? A Queen of Afric?"

"I can't believe I'm hearing this," Martha scoffed as the Doctor sighed.

"It's political correctness gone mad. Martha's—"

"She's not caught up with the times, Will," Ornias waved off, leaning slightly toward him with a smile. "Can I call you Will?"

"You may call me whatever you fancy."

"Excuse me! Hold hard a moment!" Someone else interrupted before the Doctor could, drawing their gazes to the man who stormed in. "This is abominable behavior. A new play with no warning? I demand to see a script, Mister Shakespeare. As Master of the Revels, every new script must be registered at my office and examined by me before it can be performed."

Shakespeare sighed, annoyed at the interruption. "Tomorrow morning, first thing, I'll send it round."

"I don't work to your schedule, you work to mine. The script, now!"

"I can't."

"Then, tomorrow's performance is canceled," he declared as Martha muttered into her drink.

"It's all go around here, isn't it?"

"I'm returning to my office for a banning order. If it's the last thing I do, Love's Labour's Won will never be played," the Master of Revels huffed, storming out.

"Apologies," Shakespeare muttered lightly but Ornias hummed, glancing at the door.

"Should I go smooth things over? Wouldn't be hard with a soul like his."

The Doctor shot her a pointed look at that, silently telling her to be quiet about the demon things but it went ignored as Shakespeare shook his head.

"No, no. Lynley's always been like that but he comes around in the end."

Martha wasn't convinced though. "Well then, mystery solved. That's Love's Labour's Won over and done with. Thought it might be something more, you know, more mysterious."

A scream rang out from outside, making the group rush to their feet and head out the door. Lynley himself was choking, spitting up water as they stared in surprise.

"It's that Lynley bloke," Martha recognized.

"What's wrong with him?" The Doctor questioned before heading over and grabbing hold of the man to help him to the ground. "Leave it to me. I'm a doctor."

"So am I, near enough," Martha added, going to help as Ornias stood nearby with a small furrow to her brows. "Got to get the heart going. Mister Lynley, come on. Can you hear me? You're going to be all right."

She began trying to clear his airways for CPR but upon opening his mouth, water gushed out.

"What the hell is that?" She gasped as the Doctor came over and looked himself.

"I've never seen a death like it. His lungs are full of water. He drowned and then, I don't know, like a blow to the heart, an invisible blow." He noticed all the villagers watching them and spoke up. "Good mistress, this poor fellow has died from a sudden imbalance of the humors. A natural if unfortunate demise. Call a constable and have him taken away."

"Yes, sir," Dolly said, only for her maid to offer to do it as Martha questioned the Doctor.

"And why are you telling them that?"

"Because it's the Dark Ages," Ornias hummed, suddenly kneeling beside Lynley and lightly placing a hand on his chest. "Imagine what they'd do if they knew it was witchcraft."

"You're joking, right?" Martha questioned her as the demon held up her hand where a small black flame shuddered that only her eyes could see.

"Oh, you wish I was."


"Could we get a room by chance?" I heard the Doctor chime as we settled again in Shakespeare's room and I smiled lightly down at my refilled drink.

"Actually, your friend took the last room."

A laugh escaped me, drawing the Doctor's gaze as he raised a brow. "Oh, man. Wouldn't be the first time. Last room at the inn. Whoops."

He rolled his eyes. "Of course.

"Just put them up in my room, Dolly," I hummed, glancing over at Will as he smiled a little himself. "I might not even need it tonight."

"Then, you'll be just across the landing, Sir Doctor, Miss Jones."

Will's smile fell though, as he sighed softly. "Poor Lynley. So many strange events. Not least of all, a woman who can be a doctor?"

"I can do what I like," Martha answered.

"And you, Sir Doctor. How can a man so young have eyes so old?"

"I do a lot of reading," the Doctor muttered as Will nodded.

"A trite reply, yeah. That's what I'd do. And you? You look at him like you're surprised he exists. He's as much of a puzzle to you as he is to me," he pointed out, making Martha uncomfortable enough to bid him goodnight until his gaze turned to me. "Then, there's you."

I cracked a smile. "Don't spoil me yet, Will."

"A wicked tongue, yes, but your eyes tell a different story," he said, making my smile falter a little. "Old and lonely like the Doctor's but… frightened by something. Yourself, perhaps? Is that why you put on this devilish persona? For protection?"

"Hm," I hummed, forcing a smile back on my face as I stood and deposited my empty glass on his desk, leaning forward to speak quietly to him with a hand on his chest. "Careful, Will. You might spoil our good time later."

I lightly pushed off him, catching his smirk as I stepped out and pointedly ignored the Doctor's probing gaze. I wasn't in the mood to deal with him and his rules tonight, and he wasn't about to stop me having a good time. I need to be careful though, I thought with a grimace, reaching up under my shirt and glancing at my bandages in the hall just outside the room. Damn thing is being more than annoying. The alcohol barely helped but… I frowned lightly, dropping my shirt back down. I was drunk… I am drunk. I swallowed back the taste of it still burning the back of my throat as I blinked hard to steady my slightly tilted vision. This shouldn't be possible. How is this possible?

"Ornias?"

I took a breath and let it out as the Doctor came up behind me and I stepped into the room where Martha was waiting. "Something you need, Doctor?"

"Well, no," he said, giving Martha a glance and making me wonder if he did have something to say just not in front of her. "Never mind."

I hummed as he shut the door, letting my wings out with a slow stretch, still very much feeling the aches and pains rolling through me but hiding it well while the Doctor's watchful eyes were around.

"It's not exactly five-star, is it?" Martha said, trying to ease up the tension caused by us and Will's words.

"Oh, it'll do. I've seen worse," the Doctor mused, tucking his hands in his pockets and looking around.

"I haven't even got a toothbrush."

"Humans and their rituals," I drawled, pulling over a wing and idly straightening feathers while still frowning slightly at the color. Hard to tell in candlelight though.

The Doctor was prepared though and handed her one before Martha nodded to the bed.

"So, who's going where? I mean, there's only one bed."

"We'll manage. Come on," the Doctor replied, hopping on the bed as she stood there hesitantly.

"So, magic and stuff. That's a surprise. It's all a little bit Harry Potter."

"Wait till you read book seven. Oh, I cried," he sighed wistfully.

"But is it real, though? I mean, witches, black magic, and all that, it's real?"

"Course it isn't," he said, the same time I replied: "Course it is."

He looked over at me with a frown as Martha did the same, confused.

"Okay… Which is it?"

"Looks like witchcraft, but it isn't. Can't be," he argued as I released my wing and rolled my eyes.

"Witchcraft is witchcraft. Humans invented the term and dubbed it anything without a reasonable explanation. So, unless you can magically explain how a man died of an invisible blow to the heart, it's witchcraft."

"I'm sure we'll find something to explain it."

"Right, course. Then, you're more than welcome to explain what I can do too, right?" I challenged, pulling out a feather and twirling it between my fingers. "Like my pocket dimension?"

"It's just as you say. A pocket dimension with a DNA lock requiring saliva or blood," he huffed.

"Mm, wings?"

"It's… a physical attribute that you can fold up and tuck away like a pull-out sofa bed."

"A pull-out—" I stopped, shaking my head. "I'm sorry, did you just compare my wings to hidable furniture?"

"Well…" He muttered awkwardly, glancing away.

"No, you did, didn't you? What next? You think my being a demon with superhuman strength, immortality, and hypnotism is just a genetic quirk?" I snipped, annoyed with him once more. "Or that the very belief that I'm a demon who was friends with an angel fighting against God in another universe is some sort of mental disorder?"

He turned to me in surprise, sitting up on the bed, confused. "What? Ornias, I never said—"

"Or is the only real stuff the bits that matter to you and saving your humans?" I went on, apparently drunker than I thought as words tumbled from my mouth without care. "So, my fortune-telling or that I can't die by the usual means and can survive extraordinary amounts of pain. Oh, but the pain must be witchcraft too, right? Because it obviously doesn't matter if I'm—"

"Is that what this is about?" The Doctor cut me off, eyeing me. "Are you still mad about Rose?"

"Nah. Why would I be mad?" I asked, holding my hands up in a shrug. "She's gone off galavanting in another universe and you said you were sorry with the little dance, right? So, we can just sweep it under the rug and pretend it never happened. Just ride off into the sunset, grab another little human to crush on, and start all over again, yeah?"

"Ornias—"

"Never mind the whole 'history repeats itself' thing. Just scoop up another weak, fragile human and toss them into danger."

"Ornias, if you would just let me—"

"It won't matter if you did because, you know, you've done it all before. If the new one gets in trouble just throw the demon at them. That'll fix it."

"Ornias!" The Doctor bellowed, silencing me as he stood, staring me down in confusion and uncertainty as I frowned myself; already on my feet and wanting another drink to soothe the headache pounding away in my skull in time with the throbbing in my gut. "What's going on with you? Why are you acting like this? I thought… No, even if we didn't properly make up—If I didn't properly apologize and show you that I want to make up for what happened, why are you saying all of this?"

"It doesn't matter," I muttered, turning away and blinking hard as my vision shifted slightly and my tongue felt like cotton in my mouth. What is happening? What is going on with me?

The Doctor grabbed my wrist, stopping me. "Ornias, it does matter. If something is going on, then—"

"Then, what?" I snipped, jerking my wrist from him. "You'll sonic it away?"

"Ornias—"

"Just focus on your human, Doctor. I'm fine," I replied shortly, tucking my wings away and storming out of the room.

I stopped in the hall, half waiting for him to come after me but the inn was silent and that bitterness welled up in me once more as I stepped into Will's room, earning a raised brow.

"You're a tad early, Ornias. I was hoping to finish the play first."

I dropped into a chair on the other side of his desk, taking his forgotten drink and downing it before waving at his paper and quill. "Then, finish it. I can wait."

He wrote a small bit more before lightly placing the quill down, eyeing me. "I'm afraid you have me intrigued for a different reason. Trouble with the Doctor?"

I frowned over at him; headache lightly eased by his drink. "Trouble I can deal with, thanks."

He held up his hands peacefully. "I wasn't saying otherwise. I know very well that women can care for themselves without the interference of men."

I relaxed slightly at that, setting down the drink and eyeing him.

"However, I find that airing your frustrations can be healing."

I drummed my fingers on the desk, not wanting to consider telling him about what was happening but my addled mind had other ideas. "It's stupid."

"It is hardly that if it has you so vexed. Very rarely are people actually bothered by stupid things."

I scoffed lightly. "You're certainly a talented wordsmith, Will."

He cracked a small smile. "I try. Women are more swayed by words than worldly things. The truth being the most powerful of them all."

I sighed and leaned my chin on my hand, propping my elbow up on the desk. "We had a… disagreement a while ago regarding his previous companion," I explained. "She was in a… difficult spot and I had the ability to ease some of the Doctor's worries at the risk of some discomfort on my part. I refused and we went our separate ways for a while. We came across each other again by happenstance and I attempted to… right the wrong I committed."

He frowned, confused. "Your Doctor requested you to put yourself in pain in order to help ease his concerns about his companions? How is refusing that a sin?"

"I don't know. I don't get it either," I complained, running a hand through my hair in annoyance. "I was just tired of him being upset about it and it was a pain I could tolerate. Then, I tried to stop her from being sent away, and in return, he took me back to travel with him. The pain was a minor inconvenience."

He shook his head, reaching across the desk to grab my hand; untangling my fingers from my hair with a feather-light touch. "I disagree wholeheartedly. Pain is never something one should force upon another whether through their own hands or as a consequence."

"Love makes people blind," I muttered, making him hum in understanding.

"Even the strongest men become weak in the face of it, yes. He loved her then? The Doctor."

"More than the world," I breathed. "It was only right that I offered my assistance, in his eyes."

"Then, he too is a fool," Will sighed. "Why did you return to his side after such a thing? You do not appear to be an uneducated woman or one who has lost her way in this world."

"He is… all I have," I admitted, feeling far more a fool than the Doctor for spilling such a secret to Will. "There is an understanding between us of who I am and… we are similar in a way I cannot begin to explain to anyone."

Will started to pull away. "Far more than a companion then."

"Not in that way, Will," I informed him, grasping at his hand instead before he could retreat fully. "And especially not after this. I feel a fool for letting my heart rule my head but I am changing in a way that confuses me, and the Doctor is someone who understands it far better than I ever could. Everything screams to me that I need him, consequences be damned… and yet, I admit that I am… frightened of not knowing. Of finding out that I have changed so much I am no longer who I was. I am being pulled in all directions and do not know where to begin."

"Then, I shall help in whatever way I can," he offered, squeezing my hand in his. "Doctor be damned for his foolishness in letting you suffer in the name of his love. You should focus on what is most important."

"But I do not know what that is, Will."

"Sweet lady, the answer is so simple you have stumbled right over it without even knowing," he murmured, lifting my hand to his lips. "The most important thing in this world… is you."

I stood, taking those few steps around his desk to lay a hand on his cheek and lean in. His lips still had the remnant taste of the alcohol we'd both been drinking but that just made me relish it more before I pulled away with a small smile.

"You certainly are good with your words, kind and handsome Will."

He cracked a smile back, reaching around to hold onto my waist. "As are you, though I worry pain will always mar your beautiful caramel eyes. It is a shame. I wonder what joys I might see in them should you not be burdened so by your Doctor."

"Mm, don't tempt me, Will. Leaving him would only be a temporary thing. Joy even more fleeting."

He lightly kissed me again, trying to draw me in himself as he tugged a little on my waist. "Doesn't mean I shan't try."

I grinned back as we pressed together once more, allowing him to pull me onto his lap and deepen the kiss. I wanted to lose myself in the small moment, as fickle and brief as it would be. It was rare a human could read me so well and understand my confusion and pain. The Doctor could never understand, I realized. Not so long as he harbored that love toward Rose or any other human companions. Already I could taste the one-sided lust Martha held for him and all I could see was him falling for her and doing the same agonizing test all over again.

He was right. An apology would never be enough and while he could make up for it for years and years to come, I knew that there would always be another. Another human to hold onto his hearts and turn his mind toward how useful or useless I would be. It hurt and as much as I wanted to wish I was an unfeeling demon with no cares in the world, it was about time to realize I wasn't anymore. I was changing into something different. Something that felt pain and agony and heartbreak as much as the humans or Doctor did.

I didn't want to. I hated it, honestly. I wanted to go back to being me again but there was no "me" at this point. I was in limbo all over again. Staring up at the heavens questioning why God didn't want me anymore and slamming my fists into the ground to curse Hell for never feeling like a proper home. I wanted a companion as much as the Doctor did and in this universe—without Aziraphale—he was all I truly had. And even he doesn't want me.

A small whimper escaped me as a rivet of pain ran up my spine, making Will pull away as I turned to lay kisses upon his jaw.

"Ornias. Ornias, you're hurt," he said, having ducked his hands under my shirt and discovering my bandages, but I didn't care.

I needed to feel something, anything that could be real and from someone who cared.

"Ornias, I—"

"Please, Will," I murmured, pulling back slightly as my golden eyes stared back at his surprised ones. "I need this."

He opened his mouth to say something but then his eyes rolled up in the back of his head and he went limp. I caught the scent of something foul and my gaze snapped up at the woman in the window who'd blown some sort of smoke into the room.

"You," she breathed, looking stunned. "Why are you not…"

Still rather raw from my talk with Will and now thoroughly frustrated with the interruption, I stormed toward her with grit teeth.

"I don't give a damn who the hell you are or what you're doing, but I am really not in the mood to play your games when I was just about to enjoy something for once in this never-ending nightmare of a universe!"

I lunged for her as my golden eyes flared, grabbing her hair just as her finger touched my chest. A jolt of pain rushed through me, making my fingers loosen and my knees go weak. The last thing I saw before I hit the ground was her smirk as everything went dark.


A scream rang out through the night and the Doctor launched himself out of bed and rushed toward the sound with Martha on his heels. He found poor Dolly lying on the ground just inside Shakespeare's room and checked on her as Martha rushed past to the window. Dolly was dead, unfortunately, and he announced as much as he looked over at Shakespeare now that he was awake.

"Her heart gave out. She died of fright."

"Doctor?" Martha called, looking out the window before down at the ground. "Oh, God."

The Doctor hurried over, checking the window first before realizing who was on the ground. "Oh, no," he breathed, kneeling beside Ornias and glancing back at Martha. "What did you see?"

"A witch," Martha muttered as the Doctor looked over Ornias in uncertainty. "Is she okay? She's not…"

"It would take a lot to kill her," he replied quietly, very aware that Shakespeare was still in the room. "But… something's not right. She's never taken off guard and she shouldn't have had a problem dealing with a witch. Or whatever is pretending to be a witch."

Martha looked up at him though, fingers pressed to Ornias's neck. "But Doctor… I'm sorry, but there's no pulse."

"It doesn't make sense," he pressed, knowing that while Ornias could technically die and recover but he could see the signs.

Just like Dolly, Ornias's "heart" gave out. If she has a heart. I still don't know how that works. Is she masquerading as a human physically to fit in or… Suddenly, Ornias sat up with a gasp as Martha held her arm to steady her.

"T-That bitch," Ornias spat, already trying to get on her feet despite the Doctor holding out his hands to try and stop her.

"Ornias, I really don't think you should be standing up just yet."

She stumbled into him as he grabbed her arms to steady her, but she pushed off his chest and snarled at him as her eyes flared gold.

"Don't tell me what to do," she snipped, shoving past him and leaning heavily on Shakespeare's desk; wrapping a hand around her stomach. "When I find that bitch, she's going to regret testing me. You don't mess with a demon especially when I'm in a foul mood."

"Ornias—"

"Come, now, Ornias," Shakespeare cut in, preventing the Doctor from trying to stop her as he lightly placed a hand on her arm. "Let us take a minute to gather our wits first. I'll get you a drink and summon a constable for sweet Dolly."

"They need to be punished, Will," Ornias hissed and Shakespeare glanced very briefly at the Doctor before moving in front of her and grabbing her upper arms, speaking quietly under his breath.

"And you need to take a moment and care about what is most important," he said softly, lightly placing a hand on her stomach as she grimaced and shot him a small glare.

"You are annoying."

He cracked a small smile. "Yes, and I am also right. Now, I have a spare shirt if you need, just over there. I will distract your Doctor and have a warm meal and drink ready for your return."

Ornias closed her eyes and sighed lightly, pressing her forehead against his. "You are too good at this, Will."

"Only the best for my sweet angel."

Her eyes snapped open at that, catching his cheeky grin and she rolled her eyes before grabbing his face and kissing him deeply. She pulled away with a small frown though.

"Don't call me that."

"I will. Every minute."

Ornias growled low in her throat but he pulled away and lightly herded her toward the chest near the door.

"Go. Get cleaned up."

"We will finish this later, Will," she grumbled as he smiled.

"I look forward to it."