AN – Hi everyone! I told you the chapters would slow down. I have an idea of where the story is going up to Parting of Ways, but getting there is always fun. Once again, the chapter is long. Eventually I may figure out how to write less, or follow the script less, who knows, I don't. I am hoping to get another chapter out by Christmas, but if I don't, here is your Christmas present (or Hanukkah any other day that may or may not be celebrated).
~Line Break~
Standing in the glow of the TARDIS once again, Mira basked in the atmosphere—the soft hum of the Old Girl, the rhythmic clicking of controls, and the Doctor puttering around as he always did. After eight months away, she'd forgotten how much she'd missed this. The TARDIS felt alive in a way no other place could; it was more than a machine. It was home.
Mira, don't cry. Don't you dare cry. Her throat tightened as she stepped farther inside, letting her fingers trail along the railing. The air even smelled the same—a mix of metal, ozone, and something unidentifiably warm and safe. I've been dreaming about this moment for months. It's not just a dream anymore—it's real. I'm back.
She heard a laugh—familiar, bright, unmistakable. Rose. Mira stiffened instinctively before relaxing, surprised by the lack of bitterness that usually followed that sound.
Huh. Guess I'm not jealous anymore. Who would've thought? She hesitated, her heart doing a strange little flip. Is it weird that I'm… happy to hear her voice?
"Mira!" Rose called out, her grin as wide as ever as she jogged over.
Mira smiled back, warmth spreading through her chest. Okay, I definitely missed her. This is new. Eight months ago, I wouldn't have even admitted that to myself.
The Doctor joined them, his expression lighting up in that way that always made Mira's heart stumble. "About time you got back," he said, his grin impossibly wide.
God, I missed that grin. I missed him. I missed everything.
"Yeah, well," Mira said, struggling to keep her voice steady, "somebody had to make sure the universe wasn't falling apart without me."
The three of them laughed, and for the first time in a long time, Mira felt like she belonged again. I'm home.
As they settled into conversation, Mira listened as the Doctor and Rose recounted their adventures without her, mentioning Van Statten and Adam. She couldn't suppress her relief—she'd dodged Adam entirely. If I'd been there, I'd have thrown him out an airlock for playing with Rose's heart.
When it was her turn, Mira smiled and shared some of her own adventures, keeping her students vague for privacy and avoiding mentioning Jack. The thought of seeing him again filled her with a giddy excitement, and she was thankful they'd picked her up before that reunion.
Mira yawned, raising her arms above her head to stretch out the kinks in her back. Her shirt lifted slightly, exposing a sliver of her slimmer midriff. She missed the Doctor's intent gaze and Rose's flicker of sadness as she glanced between them.
"Well, me maties," Mira said with a grin, turning to her room, "I'm off to bed. I've missed the galaxy out my window." She paused, glancing back at them. "Sorry about the pirate talk—school Pirate Day is hard to shake off. Anyway, goodnight!"
She disappeared down the hallway, leaving the Doctor and Rose in the console room, their laughter following her into the comforting hum of the TARDIS.
Mira couldn't remember much about the walk back to her room, but she vividly remembered the wave of relief that hit her as she stepped inside. Everything was just as she'd left it—familiar and unchanged, as though the TARDIS had been holding the space for her. Come morning, she would vaguely recall slipping into a pair of pyjamas that were much too large for her now, but at the time, she hadn't cared enough to request a change.
Her blissful sleep was shattered by a sudden, deafening BANG!
Mira shrieked as she was tossed from her bed, landing unceremoniously on the floor. The calm she'd carried into sleep vanished in an instant, replaced by a jolt of panic. The entire room felt like it was shaking, and for one brief, disoriented moment, she thought an earthquake had hit. Then it clicked.
"Oh, for the love of—" she muttered, groaning as she stumbled to her feet. "The Old Girl's in flight."
The absurdity of the situation dawned on her, and Mira burst into laughter, the sound bright against the chaos of the rumbling room. It's not an earthquake—it's just Tuesday in the TARDIS.
Mira raced to the cupboard, bracing herself against the wall as the TARDIS continued to shake. The vibrations rattled her nerves, but she pushed through, rummaging quickly through her clothes. As she sorted, she noticed something surprising—the garments had been resized. Overnight, the Old Girl must have adjusted the wardrobe to fit her slimmer figure.
"Thanks for that," Mira muttered, pulling out a 1940s-style dress and a pair of matching sneakers. She couldn't help but feel a small pang of gratitude. The TARDIS clearly anticipated what was coming, ensuring she wouldn't stand out like Rose would in her flag shirt—so not era-appropriate, Mira thought with a smirk.
Once she finished dressing, the room stilled, leaving behind the faint, familiar hum of the ship's engines. Mira took a deep breath, excitement bubbling in her chest. Time to face whatever adventure awaited them—and finally meet Jack! She grabbed her jacket and hurried out of the room.
On her way to the console room, she expertly dodged Rose, who had just stepped out of her own room. Grinning, Mira grabbed her by the arm.
"Come on!" Mira said, dragging Rose with her as the TARDIS started shaking again.
"What's the emergency?" Rose called out as they reached the console room.
"It's mauve," the Doctor replied with a grin, sparing Rose only a glance before his eyes landed on Mira. His smile widened.
"Universally recognized color for danger," Mira added, answering Rose's unspoken question.
"What happened to red?" Rose asked, puzzled.
"That's just humans," the Doctor said, his tone breezy. "By everyone else's standards, red's camp. Oh, the misunderstandings. All those red alerts, all that dancing." He punctuated his statement with a little dance around the console.
Mira bit back a laugh as he continued. "It's got a very basic flight computer. I've hacked in, slaved the TARDIS to it. Where it goes, we go."
"And that's safe, is it?" Rose asked skeptically.
"Nope," Mira interjected, cutting off whatever overly confident remark the Doctor was about to make.
"Spoilsport," the Doctor pouted, but Mira just grinned at him, gripping the railing tightly as the TARDIS lurched again.
"No, no, no, no!" the Doctor exclaimed, rushing to another part of the console. "It's jumping time tracks, trying to get away from us!"
"What exactly is this thing?" Rose yelled over the increasingly loud crashes reverberating through the ship.
"He has no idea," Mira quipped, patting Rose on the shoulder while keeping her grip on the railing. "But it's dangerous—and thirty seconds from the center of London."
With a final thud, the TARDIS landed. The Doctor didn't wait, throwing open the doors and rushing outside. Mira and Rose followed him, stepping into a dark alley.
Mira gazed around in awe, her breath catching at the sight of 1940s London. She'd missed the last trip to the past, so this was her first chance to see history up close—a time she'd studied so passionately. The streets were both familiar and alien, with washing lines strung between apartment blocks and heaps of rubbish piled in the corners.
She barely registered the Doctor and Rose's chatter about Earth's magnetism for time travelers, too captivated by her surroundings. The smells, the dim lighting, even the faint chatter of distant voices—all of it transported her into the heart of the history she loved.
Her focus snapped back when the Doctor held up his psychic paper to a suspicious guard. Mira frowned as she noticed it was still blank to her. I really need to ask him about that sometime, she thought.
"Doctor John Smith, Ministry of Asteroids," Rose read from the rectangular paper, her tone tinged with amusement.
"It's psychic paper," the Doctor began, clearly ready to explain. "It tells you—"
"Whatever you want it to tell me, I remember," Rose interrupted, cutting him off.
Mira suppressed a chuckle as the trio walked toward a door marked Deliveries Only.
"Not very Spock, is it? Just saying." Rose's voice carried a note of irritation as she gestured to the Doctor's simple approach.
"Door, music, people. What do you think?" the Doctor asked, directing the question to Mira and Rose.
"I think you should scan for alien tech. Give me some Spock for once. Would it kill you?" Rose pressed, clearly hoping for a more sophisticated solution.
The Doctor ignored her plea, using the sonic screwdriver to unlock the door. Mira, who had only seen the device in action a handful of times, watched in fascination. As he worked, the Doctor glanced up at Rose's Union Flag top.
"You sure about that t-shirt?" he asked.
"Too early to say. I'm taking it out for a spin," Rose replied, pouting slightly. She had chosen the outfit to draw his attention away from Mira but only got criticism for her efforts.
"It'll make for an interesting night, I'll say that much, Rosie," Mira teased with a playful smile.
Before Rose could respond, a faint, haunting voice drifted through the air. "Mummy? Mummy?"
Mira froze, the sound sending a shiver down her spine. She turned toward the Doctor, doing her best to ignore the familiar and unsettling call.
"Come on if you're coming," the Doctor said, nudging them forward. "It won't take a minute."
"Well, I'm going in. It's freezing out here, and this jacket only does so much," Mira said, pushing past him to step inside. The truth was, she just wanted to put some distance between herself and the eerie voice.
The warmth of the nightclub was an instant relief, the music a strange but welcome comfort. A jazz band played while a woman in a vintage 1940s dress crooned softly into a microphone. Mira lingered near the entrance, her eyes scanning the lively crowd as the Doctor moved confidently through the space.
The Doctor didn't hesitate, heading straight for the stage and tapping the microphone. The singer stepped aside, and he addressed the room with his usual cheerful authority. "Excuse me! Could I have everyone's attention for a mo? Be very quick. Hello!"
His grin was met with blank stares, but he pressed on, undeterred. "Might seem like a stupid question, but has anything fallen from the sky recently?"
A ripple of laughter spread through the room. Mira winced, shrinking back slightly at the crowd's reaction. The Doctor, however, appeared unfazed.
"Sorry," he continued, raising his voice. "Have I said something funny? It's just, there's this thing I need to find. Would've fallen from the sky a couple of days ago—"
Before he could finish, the wail of an air raid siren cut through the building, sharp and urgent. The laughter died instantly as the patrons scrambled for coats and belongings, hurrying toward the exits.
"Quick as you can!" a man called, ushering people toward the shelter.
The Doctor's attention shifted to a poster on the wall, its bold letters proclaiming: Hitler Will Send No Warning!
"Bang," he murmured, almost to himself.
Mira stepped closer, her voice low and laced with exasperation. "Maybe next time, don't ask about a bomb in the middle of an air raid. Just a thought."
The Doctor glanced at her, a small grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Timing could've been better," he admitted.
The room emptied quickly, leaving only the Doctor and Mira as the last of the patrons hurried into the night. She tugged her jacket tighter, following him outside into the sharp chill of the alley.
"Rose?" the Doctor called, scanning the area. His voice carried a note of irritation.
A cat meowed in response, slinking out from behind a stack of crates.
"You know," he muttered, more to himself than anyone else, "one day, just one day, I'm going to meet someone who gets the whole don't wander off thing. Nine hundred years of phone box travel, and it's the only thing left to surprise me."
Mira trailed behind, a mix of amusement and unease bubbling inside her. She glanced over her shoulder, half-expecting to hear Jamie's eerie call again, but the alley remained still save for the distant wail of the siren.
"For the record, I haven't wandered off today," Mira said, trying to lighten the mood. "Can't say much about other times, but right now, I'm right here."
The Doctor's smile softened as he looked back at her. His pace slowed as they reached the TARDIS, but something caught his attention. Mira followed his gaze to the police telephone on the front panel.
It was ringing.
"That's not supposed to happen, is it?" she asked, her voice barely above a whisper.
The Doctor didn't answer immediately. Instead, he strode forward, his brow furrowing. "How can you be ringing?" he muttered, addressing the phone as if it might respond. "What's that about, ringing? What am I supposed to do with a ringing phone?"
He pulled out the sonic screwdriver and pointed it at the panel. Before he could act, a soft voice cut through the quiet.
"Don't answer it," said a young woman stepping into view.
Mira turned, startled. The woman was dressed simply, her face set with quiet determination. She looked young—barely older than Mira's students back home—but her voice carried an unmistakable weight. Mira blinked, realizing who it was. Nancy. She wondered why Nancy would be near a nightclub.
The Doctor straightened, giving the woman a curious look. "And how do you know that?"
"Because I do," Nancy replied, her gaze unwavering. "And I'm telling you—don't answer it."
The Doctor raised an eyebrow. "Well, if you know so much, then tell me this—" he gestured toward the phone. "How can it be ringing? It's not even a real phone. It's not connected, it's not—"
He stopped mid-sentence. The young woman had vanished, as suddenly as she'd appeared.
Mira frowned, unease prickling her spine. "Where did she go? I was looking right at her."
The Doctor didn't respond. Instead, he reached for the phone.
"Doctor, don't—" Mira began, but it was too late. He'd already picked it up.
"Hello? Hello? This is the Doctor speaking. How may I help you?"
Mira took a cautious step closer, her breath catching when a voice crackled to life on the other end.
"Mummy?"
The word was soft, childlike, and filled with longing. A chill ran down Mira's spine.
"Who is this?" the Doctor demanded, his tone sharp. "Who's speaking?"
"Mummy?"
The Doctor's gaze flicked to Mira. His expression was unreadable, while hers was tight with fear. "How did you ring here?" he asked the voice. "This isn't a real phone. It's not wired up to anything."
"Mummy?"
And then, just as abruptly as it had started, the line went dead.
The Doctor hung up the phone, rapping lightly on the TARDIS door. "Rose? Rose, are you in there?"
No response. Only the faint sound of rustling further down the alley.
"Stay close," the Doctor said, glancing at Mira before heading toward the noise.
Heart pounding, Mira followed without hesitation. She had no desire to be left alone in the dark, especially here, in 1941.
The streets were dim, the heavy grey sky muffled by the wail of air raid sirens. Mira stayed close to the Doctor, her eyes darting to the shadows. The historical setting felt alive with danger, more real and terrifying than she'd ever imagined.
The Doctor peered over a wall, intrigued by the commotion in a neighboring garden. Mira sighed, her patience wearing thin. She recognized the scene and knew Nancy was already inside.
"Doctor, we don't have time for sightseeing," Mira hissed, grabbing his sleeve. "Nancy's already in there. We need to catch up with her."
The Doctor gave her an amused glance but hopped down from the dustbin, following her lead. Together, they slipped into the garden, careful not to disturb the frantic family retreating into their shelter. Mira caught a glimpse of Nancy through a window, methodically gathering food. Her mind raced—how much could she reveal without changing too much?
Inside the house, the Doctor and Mira moved silently toward the dining room. The children were already gathered around Nancy, eager for their slices of contraband meat. Mira's heart clenched at the sight of their thin, dirty faces.
The Doctor strode into the room with his usual lack of subtlety. "Thanks, miss!" he announced, plopping down among the children.
The kids froze, staring at him as if he were a ghost.
Mira rolled her eyes, stepping forward. "It's fine," she said quickly. "He's with me." Turning to Nancy, she offered a small, knowing smile. "Nancy, right?"
Nancy's eyes narrowed. "How do you know my name?"
"Lucky guess," Mira said lightly, her tone casual, though her heart raced. She didn't elaborate, and Nancy, though clearly suspicious, let it go.
Meanwhile, the Doctor was firing questions at the children, his rapid inquiries leaving them wide-eyed and silent. Mira sighed, folding her arms.
"Doctor, maybe tone it down a notch?" she suggested. "They're not going to open up if you interrogate them like that."
He blinked at her, momentarily thrown off, then nodded. "Fair point."
Redirecting his attention to Nancy, his tone softened. "You're doing good work here. Taking care of them. It's brilliant, really."
Nancy's gaze softened slightly, but she remained guarded. "Why are you following me? What do you want?"
Before the Doctor could answer, Mira stepped in. "We're looking for something," she said. "A… device. It would've fallen from the sky about a month ago. Do you know anything about that?"
Nancy's expression hardened again. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Mira sighed, running a hand through her hair. She wasn't surprised, but it was still frustrating. "Look, we're not here to cause trouble. We just need answers."
They followed Nancy's trail into the house, moving as silently as possible. When they entered the dining room, the children were already gathering around Nancy, eager for their slices of contraband meat. Mira's heart clenched at the sight of their thin, dirty faces.
The Doctor strode into the room without hesitation, his usual bravado on full display. "Thanks, miss!" he announced, plopping down among the children. The kids froze, staring at him like he was a ghost.
Mira rolled her eyes and stepped forward. "It's fine," she said quickly. "He's with me." She glanced at Nancy, offering a small, knowing smile. "Nancy, right?"
Nancy's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "How do you know my name?"
"Lucky guess," Mira said smoothly, her tone light but her expression inscrutable. She didn't elaborate, and Nancy, though clearly unsettled, didn't press the matter.
The Doctor, meanwhile, was already grilling the children about their circumstances, his questions coming rapid-fire. Mira folded her arms, watching him with a mix of admiration and exasperation.
"Doctor, maybe tone it down a notch?" she suggested. "They're not going to open up if you're interrogating them like that."
He blinked at her, momentarily thrown off, but then gave her a small nod. "Fair point," he conceded, his tone softer as he redirected his attention to Nancy. "You're doing good work here. Taking care of them. It's brilliant, really."
Nancy's gaze softened slightly, but her posture remained defensive. "Why are you following me? What do you want?"
Before the Doctor could respond, Mira stepped forward. "We're looking for something," she said, choosing her words carefully. "A... device. It would've fallen from the sky about a month ago. Do you know anything about it?"
Nancy's expression hardened instantly. "I don't know what you're talking about."
Mira sighed, running a hand through her hair. She wasn't surprised by the answer, but it was still frustrating. "Look, we're not here to cause trouble. We just need answers."
Before Nancy could respond, a knock echoed through the house.
"Mummy?"
The room fell silent. Mira's stomach twisted as the eerie, childlike voice floated down the hallway. She didn't need to see who it was; the sound alone made her skin crawl.
Nancy bolted for the door without hesitation, and Mira instinctively followed. The Doctor was right behind them, his expression shifting from curious to serious. They reached the hallway just as a small hand pushed through the letterbox.
"Mummy?"
Nancy's voice was sharp, urgent. "You mustn't let him touch you!"
Mira's breath caught in her throat. She already knew the answer, but she asked anyway. "What happens if he does?"
"He'll make you like him," Nancy said, her voice trembling. "Empty."
The Doctor leaned in, his curiosity overriding caution. He stepped closer to the door, hand hovering near the bolt. Mira's chest tightened in alarm.
"Doctor, don't—" she started, but he had already opened the door.
The street outside was empty. Mira exhaled a shaky breath, her relief short-lived as unease crept back in. The silence felt unnatural, oppressive.
"Out the back!" Nancy hissed, already moving. Mira turned to follow, her arm brushing against something cold and clammy. She glanced down, but there was nothing there. Just her imagination, she told herself, though the crawling sensation on her skin said otherwise.
Nancy disappeared into the night, moving with practiced ease. Mira hurried to keep up, her heartbeat thundering in her ears. She didn't notice the faint, dark mark beginning to spread on the back of her hand.
The Doctor caught up, his long strides effortlessly matching Mira's pace. He scanned the shadows ahead, his sharp gaze trying to locate Nancy as she darted further away.
"Well, I guess it's time for you to do your magical finding-people thing, huh?" Mira said, her tone light but edged with tension.
The Doctor gave her a quick, sidelong glance, his expression caught somewhere between amusement and focus. "Magical? Hardly. It's just about knowing where to look."
Mira forced a small smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. The cold sensation on her hand had deepened, a faint ache now accompanying it. As they pressed on into the dark, the weight of urgency settled over her. Time was slipping through their fingers, and she couldn't shake the feeling that they were already too late.
The streets were dim, the heavy gray sky weighed down by the ominous wail of air raid sirens. Mira stayed close to the Doctor, her eyes scanning the shadows with equal parts caution and dread. She wasn't sure what unsettled her more—the threat of German bombs overhead or the chilling knowledge of what lay ahead. This wasn't just history anymore; it was real, raw, and terrifying.
The Doctor moved confidently through the streets, leading them to the outskirts of the city. From their vantage point, they watched Nancy head toward a small shack. Mira hung back, preferring to observe the Doctor and Nancy's upcoming confrontation from a distance. She scratched at her hand absentmindedly. Damn mozzie allergies.
Her gaze drifted as Nancy carefully hid food she had taken from the Lloyd family kitchen. Mira felt a pang of sadness, wishing she'd seen the confrontation between Nancy and Mr. Lloyd, but was relieved the children would have food. She couldn't see the Doctor's face from her position, but she didn't need to—she knew he'd have that goofy smile. Of course, he finds this funny. Only the Doctor could think this is charming.
Nancy straightened from her task, startled as she caught sight of them. Mira gave her a small wave.
"How'd you two follow me here?" Nancy demanded, her voice sharp with frustration.
"I'm good at following people. Got a nose for it," the Doctor replied, gesturing to his prominent nose without a second thought.
Nancy gave him a wary look. "People don't usually follow me if I don't want them to."
"My nose has special powers," the Doctor said, touching it with exaggerated pride.
Nancy's lips twitched, fighting a smile. "Yeah? That's why it's so…"
"What?" the Doctor asked, confused by her trailing words.
"Nothing. Do your ears have special powers too?"
At that, Mira burst into laughter, doubling over as she tried to catch her breath. By the time she managed to compose herself, she realized she'd missed part of the exchange. I really need to stop spacing out.
"There's soldiers guarding it. Barbed wire. You'll never get through," Nancy said cautiously, trying to dissuade the Doctor.
"Try me," the Doctor replied with a grin, his confidence unwavering.
"You sure you want to know what's going on in there?" Nancy asked, her voice tinged with warning.
Mira stepped closer, subtly adding canned goods from her TARDIS-connected pocket to Nancy's stash. Nancy glanced at her but said nothing.
"I really want to know," the Doctor said firmly, his curiosity burning.
"Then there's someone you need to talk to first," Nancy said.
"And who might that be?" The Doctor started toward the door, eager to move things along.
"The Doctor," Nancy said, causing him to stop in his tracks.
"Not who you're thinking of, Doc," Mira chimed in from behind Nancy. "Let's keep moving so Nancy can get back to her kids."
~Line Break~
The Doctor pulled out his super-binoculars, scanning the fenced-off area ahead. Mira stood beside him, scratching her hand again before shoving it into her pocket. Bloody mozzies—must've been a nasty one. Or maybe I'm allergic to 1940s air. She shook her head, trying to push the itch from her mind.
"The bombs under that tarpaulin," Nancy said, gesturing toward the secured area. "They put the fence up overnight. See that building? The hospital."
"What about it?" the Doctor asked, lowering the binoculars.
"That's where the doctor is. You should talk to him."
The Doctor frowned. "Right now, I'm more interested in what's under the tarpaulin."
"Talk to the doctor first," Nancy insisted.
"Why?"
"Because maybe then you won't want to get inside."
Mira's stomach churned at the fear in Nancy's voice. She rubbed her knuckles against her jacket as Nancy turned to leave.
"Where're you going?" the Doctor called after her.
"There's a lot of food in that house. I've got mouths to feed. Should be safe enough now."
The Doctor hesitated, then asked softly, "Can I ask you something? Who did you lose?"
Nancy froze, her back to them. "What?"
"The way you look after all those kids—it's because you lost someone, isn't it? You're doing all this to make up for it."
Nancy's voice wavered. "My little brother. Jamie. One night, I went out looking for food. Same night that thing fell. I told him not to follow me, told him it was dangerous, but he just... He just didn't like being alone."
"What happened?"
"In the middle of an air raid? What do you think happened?"
The Doctor's eyes softened with admiration. "Amazing."
"What is?"
"1941. Right now, not far from here, the German war machine is rolling across Europe. Country after country, falling like dominoes. Nothing can stop it. Nothing—except one tiny, damp little island that says no. No. Not here. A mouse in front of a lion. You're amazing, the lot of you. Don't know what you do to Hitler, but you frighten the hell out of me. Off you go, then. Do what you've got to do. Save the world."
Nancy didn't look back as she disappeared into the night. Mira tugged at her jacket, trying to ignore the itch spreading across her knuckles. This isn't just a mozzie bite. She frowned but shoved the thought aside as the Doctor gestured for her to follow.
"Come on, Mira. Let's see what's so special about this doctor of hers."
~Line Break~
The Doctor used his sonic screwdriver to unlock the padlock on the hospital gates. The silence inside was suffocating, starkly contrasting the chaos of the city beyond. As they stepped into the hospital, Mira's gaze swept over the rows of dark, unmoving figures. Each bed held a patient, their faces obscured by gas masks. The eerie uniformity made her stomach churn.
"This," she whispered, her voice barely audible, "is worse than I imagined."
"You'll find them everywhere," came a gravelly voice. An elderly man with a cane emerged from the shadows, his expression a mix of weariness and defiance. "In every bed, in every ward. Hundreds of them."
The Doctor turned toward the man. "Why are they still wearing gas masks?"
"They're not," the man replied curtly.
Mira stepped forward, her voice soft but firm. "You must be Doctor Constantine. Nancy sent us." She gestured gently toward the Doctor. "He's the one asking about the bomb."
Constantine's eyes flicked toward Mira, briefly assessing her. "Nancy? Then you've been asking about the crash site."
"What do you know about it?" the Doctor asked, his tone carefully neutral.
"Only what it's done," Constantine said, his voice heavy with resignation.
The Doctor's gaze shifted to the rows of unmoving patients. "These people... they were caught in the blast?"
Constantine shook his head. "None of them were."
Mira frowned. "Then what happened to them?"
Constantine leaned heavily on his cane, his breath laboured. "When that bomb dropped, there was just one victim. A young man with injuries so severe they were beyond belief. By morning, every doctor and nurse who touched him—"
"—started showing the same injuries," Mira finished, her voice laced with quiet horror.
Constantine's gaze lingered on her, surprised by her understanding. "And by the following day, every patient in the same ward. Within a week, the entire hospital."
The Doctor stepped closer to a patient, scanning with his sonic screwdriver. "This shouldn't be possible."
"Yet it is," Constantine replied. "And it's spreading."
Mira interrupted gently, her tone earnest. "Please, Doctor Constantine, we need to understand. These people… are they alive?"
Constantine's face twisted with pain. "No heartbeat. No life signs. But they're not dead. They just… exist."
Mira glanced at the Doctor, her expression strained. "Like a plague that leaves them in limbo."
Constantine nodded. "Exactly. Physical injuries as a disease. Every scar, every break, replicated down to the last detail." He raised his hand, showing the same scar on his own flesh.
The Doctor's brow furrowed. "How did it start? The very first victim?"
"Top floor, room 802," Constantine rasped. "That's where they took him. The one from the crash site."
Mira's voice softened further as she stepped closer, though she kept her hands firmly to herself. "Doctor Constantine, I'm so sorry. You've carried this burden alone. But it's going to be okay. We'll figure this out. I know we can't fix you right now, but I promise, in the end everything will be okay."
Constantine's lips twitched, a ghost of a smile crossing his face. "A kind word is rare these days. But words won't change what's coming."
Before Mira could reply, he staggered slightly, clutching his chest. His breathing turned ragged as his body convulsed. Mira froze, dread creeping into her features.
"Doctor Constantine," the Doctor said urgently, stepping forward but halting when Constantine held up a trembling hand.
"Stay back!" Constantine's voice was strained, his words gurgling as something shifted beneath his skin. "You must find Nancy again. It was her brother. She knows more than she's saying."
Mira's eyes widened. "Her brother? Jamie?" Oh Nancy, if only you had told him you were his mother
Constantine didn't answer. Instead, his expression twisted in agony as his mouth stretched unnaturally. Mira covered her mouth, tears springing to her eyes as a gas mask forced its way from his face, replacing his features entirely.
"Doctor!" Mira exclaimed, her voice shaking.
The Doctor grabbed her arm, pulling her back. "Don't touch him! He's one of them now."
"I know." Mira whispered, her voice hollow with defeat.
Constantine—or the thing he had become—emitted a guttural wheeze before his hands fell limply to his sides. His body stilled, leaving the room eerily quiet except for the rasping breaths of the surrounding patients. The oppressive silence pressed down on her, heavy with dread.
Mira took a shaky step back, her face pale but her resolve hardening. "We… we have to stop this."
The Doctor's jaw tightened, his expression grim. "Top floor, room 802. Let's go."
Before they could move, voices echoed from the hallway—one male, one female. Mira's heart lifted slightly as she recognized them. Rose and Jack were calling out, their urgency unmistakable.
Mira managed a faint smile despite the tension, but before Rose and Jack reached them, an intense itching under her skin stole her focus. It flared into sharp pain, crawling up her arm like fire. Swallowing hard, Mira glanced down at her right hand—and nearly fainted.
A bright red scar glared back at her, angry and vivid. Her breath hitched as realization struck. This. This is what's been causing the itching. When did it happen? How did it happen? Panic swirled in her mind as the truth sank in like a stone. I thought I was better! I thought I was finally useful! When did I even touch one? When?!
Her breathing hitched as panic bubbled up, twisting in her chest like a vice. She knew she couldn't stay with the Doctor and the others; the risk of infecting them was too great. I can't ruin everything. I can't ruin him. Clenching her jaw to stifle the rising tide of anxiety, Mira turned away from the lively introduction of Jack to the Doctor. Their bantering and the Doctor's questioning faded into the background, replaced by the thundering of her heart.
Knowing the next hour would be hell, she bolted from the room without a word.
"Mira!" The Doctor's voice echoed behind her, sharp with confusion and alarm. She heard his footsteps, his relentless pursuit, but she didn't dare stop. Ducking into a nearby room filled with the infected, she pressed her back against the door, trembling as his footsteps faded.
Her legs gave out beneath her, and she crumpled onto the cold floor. Hot tears welled in her eyes as guilt and fear churned in her chest. I need to be there by the end of this. I have to. I can't mess up the timeline. But what if I run into them too soon? What if I infect them?
Her thoughts spiralled, growing more fragmented. I'm supposed to be better now. I was supposed to be stronger. But all I've done is—
Her hand twitched involuntarily, the itching intensifying, and she bit down on her lip to suppress a sob. Just breathe. Focus. Moon. Just think about the moon.
She closed her eyes, latching onto the memory of her parents walking her around the town as a toddler, trying to lull her to sleep. It hadn't worked; she'd been too fascinated with the night sky, pointing endlessly and shouting, "Moon! Moon!" The thought brought a fleeting, bittersweet smile to her lips.
The memory steadied her just enough to find her feet again. Forcing herself upright, Mira cracked the door open and peered out. The hall was empty. Relieved, she slipped into the corridor, moving quickly and quietly.
Ten minutes later, she was far from the hospital. Her breath caught as she realized she'd been whispering "mummy" under her breath, the word slipping out unbidden. Panic clawed at her throat again, but she swallowed it down. No one's here. No one can touch me. Just stay away. Don't touch me.
At last, she stopped in an open field. The moon hung high above, bathing the world in its silvery glow. A towering oak tree stood nearby, its shadow sprawling like a guardian in the night. She sank beneath it, her limbs heavy, her heart pounding.
1941 was one of the worst years to be outside like this, but at that moment, Mira didn't care. The sky was breathtaking, free of the pollution that had choked modern London in her time. Here, in the stillness, the stars shone with a clarity she hadn't seen in years.
At least the last thing I see will be beautiful.
She laid down beneath the oak tree, gazing up at the full moon as it lit the field around her. Her memories began to fragment, slipping through her fingers like sand. Her chest tightened, the scratching inside her throat growing unbearable.
She coughed violently—once, twice—then nothing.