The underground cavern was a maze of damp stone, slick with condensation that dripped rhythmically into shallow pools. Shadows danced and flickered on the jagged walls, cast by the harsh, artificial lights UNIT had hastily rigged up. Wires snaked across the ground like lifelines, connecting monitors, scanning devices, and energy stabilizers, all part of the team's desperate effort to understand what they were dealing with.

At the heart of the chaos, the object sat, ominously still yet alive with potential destruction. It was no larger than a shoebox, its surface resembling aged wood—though clearly it wasn't. Its exterior shifted like a living puzzle, gears and plates sliding over each other in an intricate, ceaseless dance. Every so often, the box would pulse, sending out a ripple of energy that resonated through the cavern, making the ground tremble and the air hum with an otherworldly charge.

It wasn't a bomb. Not exactly. But it was going to explode, or so the readings suggested, and when it did, the devastation wouldn't stop at London. The earthquakes that had been plaguing the city, growing more frequent and severe with each passing hour, were only a prelude.

"Eight hours, give or take," one of the UNIT techs had said earlier, his voice tight with barely concealed panic. "And we can't move it. It's... fused to the ground."

They'd tried. Excavation tools, lasers, even a containment field—none of it had worked. The box had sunk tendrils deep into the earth, almost like roots, anchoring it in place. Scans showed nothing useful, only a chaotic jumble of energy signatures that didn't match any known technology. Even the Silurians, whose subterranean world had inadvertently led to the discovery of the artefact, were baffled. It had been buried here for centuries, maybe longer, but now its integrity was failing. Whatever was inside was breaking out, and soon.

Hally stood at the edge of the UNIT perimeter, her arms tightly crossed, a deep frown etching lines into her forehead. Another tremor rippled through the cavern, stronger this time, accompanied by the box's telltale pulse of energy. A faint shimmer coursed through the air, distorting the light for a brief, nauseating moment. Dust and tiny stones rained down from the ceiling.

"Damn it," Jack muttered, brushing dust from his shoulder. He stood just behind Hally, his jaw clenched. "This thing's going to bring the whole city down before it even goes off."

Hally didn't respond immediately, her gaze fixed on the artefact. Her mind churned, cycling through possibilities and discarding them just as quickly. The artefact wasn't just alien—it was something else entirely. The way it moved, the way it felt in the air—it was ancient, unknowable, and dangerously alive.

"They're trying to diffuse it like it's a bomb," she finally said, her voice low and clipped. "It's not a bomb. At least not in the traditional sense."

"Then what is it?" Jack asked, his frustration barely contained. He stepped closer, lowering his voice so the nearby UNIT techs wouldn't hear. "Because right now, everyone's treating it like the end of the world, and we're running out of time."

Hally glanced at him, her expression unreadable. "It's a container. Whatever's inside it—energy, a weapon, a lifeform—wants out. And if it gets out..."

Another pulse from the box cut her off, stronger than the last. The ground beneath their feet shook violently, and several UNIT personnel stumbled, clutching at equipment to steady themselves. The monitors emitted a cacophony of alarms, their screens lighting up with spikes in energy levels.

Jack swore again. "We're not going to make eight hours at this rate."

Hally's eyes flicked back to the box. It was glowing faintly now, a soft, menacing light emanating from the seams where its shifting plates didn't quite meet. She took a deep breath, her mind racing. "We need to figure out what's inside. And fast."

Jack gave her a sidelong glance. "Got any bright ideas?"

"Working on it," she replied, her voice tight. Another tremor rattled through the cavern, and this time, it didn't stop immediately. The vibrations lingered, low and threatening, like a warning growl from a cornered predator.

"Well, that's reassuring," Hart said, a smirk tugging at his lips. "Nothing like a little seismic activity to spice things up."

"Move away from it. " Hally snapped, glaring at him.

"Relax, Princess," he drawled, his tone as casual as ever. "I'm not touching it. Just admiring."

Kate's voice cut through as she addressed the techs. "What do we have so far?"

One of the scientists, a young woman with frazzled hair and an exhausted expression, looked up from her console. "We've scanned it with every tool at our disposal—ultrasound, thermal imaging, even quantum sensors. Nothing matches. It's like this thing is rewriting the rules as we go. The energy signature is... completely alien, but not anything we've encountered before. And it's growing stronger."

"What about absorbing the energy?" Jack asked.

"Every attempt has failed," the scientist said, shaking her head. "It's too unstable. Our equipment just can't handle it. Whatever is powering the bomb, it's nothing we've seen before."

Hally frowned, her gaze fixed on the box. It was oddly mesmerizing, the gears on its surface clicking and sliding into new positions as if alive. "It's not a bomb," she muttered. "It's... I don't know what it is. But it isn't a bomb."

"It is still going to explode though…" Martha added grimly.

Hally crouched down. "It's old technology, but so far beyond anything humans could create. Whatever's inside, it's not just energy—it's contained, directed. The box is failing, and the earthquakes are a result of energy slipping out."

"How long until the containment fails?"

"Less than ten hours… judging by the frequency of the surges. Perhaps less?"

Martha straightened, her tone resolute. "If nothing we're using can measure this thing, then we need to call in outside help. We should call The Doctor."

Kate raised a hand. "Even if we contact him, there's no guarentee he'll arrive in time."

"We've got nothing else!" Martha argued. "He has the TARDIS. He could scan it, maybe pick up something we've missed. It's worth the chance."

Kate hesitated, then gestured for Hally to follow her to the edge of the cavern. They moved away from the group, their conversation dropping to a low murmur.

"Have you seen anything like it before?" Kate asked quietly.

Hally shook her head, her expression thoughtful. "No. But it's not random. The gears—how they move—it's deliberate, like it's solving itself. Whatever's inside... it's not just energy. It's something alive, or at least aware. The box is failing, but it's trying to hold on."

Kate studied her, then asked, "Do you think The Doctor might have information on it?"

Hally exhaled slowly. "He might. If he's seen anything like it before. And the TARDIS could definitely run scans that go far beyond what we've got here. But... there's no guarantee he'll show in the hours we have. Or at all."

Kate hummed, her gaze drifting back to the box. She was quiet for a moment, clearly considering something. Finally, she cleared her throat. "If we asked... for her help. For her to consult on this. Would she?"

Hally froze, the question hanging in the air between them. "Missy?" she asked cautiously, just to make sure she fully understood what Kate was asking.

Kate nodded. "If we brought her in, would she help?"

"Probably," Hally admitted after a beat, her tone uncertain. "Although she'll be insufferable about it."

"If it saves London, I can deal with that." Kate clipped. Her voice lacked conviction but carried the weight of resignation. She checked her watch. "I'll have someone drive you to the school," Kate said. "Any problems, call me."

"Yes, ma'am," Hally muttered, her tone edged with reluctance. She turned back toward the group without waiting for a reply.

Kate, unfazed, motioned to two nearby soldiers. "You're with her. And Hart."

Jack's eyes flicked between Hally, Hart, and Kate, his jaw tightening in a silent question. Kate cleared her throat, her voice echoing around the cavern.

"We have no guarantee The Doctor will get here in time," she said, her gaze pointedly landing on Jack and Martha. The gravity of her words stilled the room. "If either of you would rather step down from this, I'd understand… I'm sending for The Master."

Jack exhaled sharply through his nose, the sound loud in the weighted silence. His arms crossed over his chest, a gesture that spoke volumes about his misgivings. Even Hart, typically so flippant, raised an eyebrow in surprise.

Kate held firm, her expression betraying no doubt. She gave Hally a small nod, signalling her to leave, then turned back to the rest of the team to continue her briefing.

Hally hesitated for a moment, casting a glance over her shoulder, but no one stopped her. Flanked by the two soldiers, she made her way through the winding tunnels. Their flashlights cut harsh beams through the darkness, illuminating a path back to the surface.

Once above ground, she slid into the back seat of the car, the faint hum of the engine a dull backdrop to her internal debate. Should she text Missy? A warning, maybe, to let her know she was coming. It wasn't that she cared about politeness—it was strategy. But giving Missy a heads-up felt like handing her the upper hand.

And Missy didn't need any help with that.

Hally could practically hear the taunting lilt in Missy's voice already. If she knew Hally was coming, she'd use the extra time to concoct something outrageous to barter with. Missy wasn't going to help for free—that much was certain.

But she would help. Hally was sure of that. For all her theatrics and games, Missy wasn't about to let London explode. Not when the pair of them and their daughter were currently residing there. Still, whatever price Missy demanded, Hally knew it would fall on her to pay it.

Kate might have been willing to offer Missy a thing or two to secure her cooperation, but the aftermath wouldn't land on Kate's desk and both of them knew it. That was… most likely why Kate was sending her in the first place.

The car hit a bump, jolting her from her thoughts. Hally leaned her head back against the seat, letting out a long, slow breath. The school wasn't far. She'd be there soon enough. And whatever game Missy had in store, she'd have to be ready to play it.

The car pulled up in front of the school. Hart, lounging comfortably in the seat next to her, hummed with a hint of a smirk. "Want me to come watch?" he asked, his tone carrying just the right amount of mockery to make her roll her eyes.

She sent him a sharp sneer. "No thanks." Slipping out of the car, she closed the door firmly behind her. "Won't be long."

The school building loomed ahead. Hally headed straight to the reception desk, her pace brisk. "Is she in her office?" she asked towards the receptionist, without preamble.

The receptionist looked up from her screen, startled, and cleared her throat. "Oh, yes… let me just—"

"No need," Hally cut her off, continuing through the corridor, her stride purposeful.

This time, she knocked. It seemed polite, and considering she needed a favour, it was probably best to at least start off polite.

"Come in."

Hally stepped inside, closing the door behind her. The office was, as always distinctly Missy's. Her presence. Her domain. A flicker of nerves ran through her as Missy's gaze lifted to meet hers, sharp and a little taken aback.

"Oh, isn't this a nice surprise," She purred, flashing her a charming smile while reclining in her chair.

Hally moved further into the room, closing the space between them. "It's not actually a social visit."

Missy's lips curled into a knowing smile. "Ah. So, you want something."

"Well… I suppose. It's… work," Hally admitted.

Missy leaned back, her expression one of exaggerated curiosity. "Mmhmm. And what little problem can I help the humans fix today?"

Hally sighed and leaned forward against the desk, deliberately positioning herself so she loomed over Missy. A subtle power play, but one she hoped would work.

"There's an unstable energy containment unit underneath London," she began. "It's what's been causing the earthquakes. We can't stop it from deteriorating, and we can't absorb the energy it's giving off."

"Mmhmm." Missy's eyes gleamed with wicked amusement, her smile starting to stretch wider.

Hally pressed on. "We would… appreciate it… if you could come and take a look at it."

Missy cocked her head, her gaze dropping to Hally's wrist. Her fingers reached out, feather-light, trailing up the inside of her arm in a deliberate caress.

"Do relax, dear," Missy murmured.

Hally let out a soft, frustrated sigh. "I'm not here to play—"

Missy tutted softly, cutting her off. "No, you're here to ask for my help. So, if I want to play… we'll play."

There was a glitter of something dangerous in Missy's eyes as she stood, moving around the desk with slow, deliberate steps. Hally had to shift her position, turning to keep her in sight. She ended up with her back to the desk, leaning against it. The edge of dominance she'd tried to maintain slipped.

"How long have we got?" Missy asked, stopping just in front of the pair of chairs.

"Estimated roughly eight hours, but it's speeding up. Could be less."

Missy nodded slowly, her eyes locked onto Hally's, unblinking and intense. "The device can't be moved?" she asked, her voice low, almost coaxing, as though she already knew the answer and was merely testing her.

Her hands rested lightly on Hally's hips, fingers idly tracing small, deliberate circles. Missy shifted closer, sliding into the space between Hally's legs, her presence commanding and unyielding. Hally instinctively leaned back, her lower back meeting the edge of the desk behind her. Before she could steady herself, Missy pressed forward, her hands firm on Hally's hips, guiding her effortlessly onto the desk's edge.

Hally's breath caught, her thoughts scattering for a moment. It took her a second to register that Missy had even asked a question.

"…No," she said finally, her voice soft, a bit unsteady. She cleared her throat, trying to steady herself under Missy's watchful gaze. "It's rooted to the ground somehow. They can't dig around it—nothing's been strong enough to even budge it."

Missy's lips curved into a small, knowing smile, the kind that hinted she was already several steps ahead in whatever game she was playing. Her gaze never wavered from Hally's, sharp and assessing, as if waiting for her next move, or lack thereof.

"Mmm…" Missy murmured, a note of intrigue laced through the sound, her curiosity feigned but her intent unmistakable. Her hands remained planted firmly on Hally's hips, holding her in place with an unspoken challenge: stay, or retreat, you choose.

One of Missy's hands began to move, her fingers trailing down over the fabric of Hally's skirt. The touch was maddeningly light, just enough to send a shiver through her. The other hand remained at her hip, a tether, while the wandering fingers brushed lower, skimming the top of Hally's thigh. They lingered there, a tease, as if testing the boundary between deliberate and accidental.

Hally swallowed hard, her throat dry as her thoughts scattered into useless fragments. She could've cursed the spring sun for coaxing her into wearing a skirt that morning, the soft, flowing fabric now feeling more like a vulnerability than a choice. Damn it. Of all days.

"Have they been able to determine the origin of the energy source?" Missy asked, her voice smooth, almost disinterested, the question hanging in the air with an almost casual detachment.

Hally swallowed, trying to keep her composure as she felt Missy's fingers linger just above her knee. "Uh… no?" she replied, voice tight despite her best efforts.

"No?" Missy's thumb edged upwards, tracing a slow, deliberate path towards the inside of Hally's thigh, pressing just enough to send a jolt of heat through her.

Hally cleared her throat, her voice strained. "Missy."

Missy looked at her then, her dark lashes fluttering just slightly as her eyes locked onto Hally's, a smirk dancing at the corners of her lips. "Yes?"

Flushed, warmth spreading like wildfire through her chest, Hally fought the instinct to pull away. Missy was so close, she couldn't deny how badly it was throwing her off. This was not how this was supposed to go.

"Stop it..." Hally managed to choke out, her voice a mix of exasperation and something else.

"Stop what?" Missy's tone was mockingly innocent, her hand still nestled between Hally's legs as though it had every right to be there.

"Touching me," Hally bit out.

Missy glanced down at her own hand, pouting theatrically, as though the offending limb had a mind of its own. But she didn't move it. "Are you uncomfortable?"

Hally rolled her jaw, trying to steady herself. "No… but it's…" She faltered. What was it? Turning her on? Making her flush with heat? Leaving her aching and exposed in a way she wasn't prepared for? "…Distracting."

Missy's smile softened, a teasing glint in her eyes, but she didn't move her hand. The maddening touches had stopped, but the pressure remained. "You could have just called," she suggested, her tone playful.

Hally pressed her tongue against the side of her mouth, trying to keep her breath steady. "I imagine Kate assumed you'd be more likely to say yes if I came and asked myself." Her gaze narrowed, semi-playful but with a bite of challenge in it.

Missy hummed thoughtfully, her gaze flicking over Hally like she was weighing something new, something unseen. "Well… you have asked so nicely." Her voice lilted, a dangerous promise that had Hally's stomach clenching.

Missy drew in a slow, steady breath, her eyes trailing lazily over Hally, her gaze deliberate, measured. "Now then… now then…"

Missy hummed, the sound low and knowing. Her sharp eyes danced as Hally watched the thoughts flicker across her face. She knew what was coming next.

"And for my assistance, what is it that I gain in return?" She asked, her tone light but edged with intent.

Hally met her gaze. "What do you want?"

Missy leaned forward suddenly, her breath ghosting against Hally's ear. Her body was too close, her presence intoxicating and sharp. The scent of her filled Hally's senses as Missy's hand, which had been resting innocuously on her knee, slid upward. Fingers bunched the fabric of her skirt, as her thumb drew a slow, deliberate line along the inside of Hally's thigh. Hally's breath hitched audibly.

"I want you." Missy murmured against her ear, her voice low and husky. A shiver coursed down Hally's spine as Missy's hand continued its steady ascent. When her thumb brushed experimentally against the front of Hally's underwear, she jolted at the sudden sensation.

Her brain stuttered, trying its best to remain engaged despite her body's will to melt completely. This wasn't so bad? Maybe this would help with the unbearable tension constantly coiled between her legs? If it meant saving London and maybe getting an orgasm out of it too, wasn't that a win-win?

"I want to watch you fall apart." Missy breathed. Her voice was molten, her lips curling into a smirk as she turned Hally's face toward hers. Their eyes locked. Missy's usually sharp blue gaze had darkened, pupils blown wide, her breaths noticeably heavier. Hally's hearts pounded in her chest.

Clearing her throat, Hally attempted rather weakly to take back a little dignity. "Well… for clarity… and so we can both be certain we've upheld both sides of the deal…" She swallowed hard, her voice wavering. "What exactly is it you're asking for?"

Missy's smirk widened into a slow, predatory grin. "I will help you save the little humans…" she purred, her voice a sinful whisper laced with dark amusement. "…on the condition that I get to watch you come."

Heat flared across Hally's skin. She opened her mouth to agree immediately but paused as a flicker of rebellion sparked in her chest. A small idea took root, one she knew she might pay for later. She bit her lip, watching the way Missy's eyes dropped to her mouth and flicked back up.

"Deal," she said, her voice barely audible.

Missy's expression shifted, a flash of desire and impatience crossing her features. Her hand moved with purpose, gathering the fabric of Hally's skirt entirely. Hally stopped her, catching Missy's wrist mid-motion. Missy's raised eyebrow spoke volumes—dangerous, impatient, and entirely unamused. A thrill shot through Hally despite herself.

She knew she'd make her pay for this.

But she needed to get her back somehow.

"Ah, ah," Hally said, her tone clipped but laced with feigned authority. She pushed Missy back gently, creating just enough space to manoeuvre.

Hally shifted, lifting her hips to tug her underwear down and off, managing to slide them over her shoes without much trouble. Sitting back on the desk's edge, she stopped Missy again just as she made to move back towards her.

Missy's murderous glare would have had even the bravest of idiots shrinking away. It was a question, unspoken but clear as day: What the fuck do you think you're doing?

Hally pushed her back a little more, her movements deliberate as she scooted farther back onto the desk. She propped one foot on the edge, her skirt falling just enough to expose her leg. Her voice was low, a soft, taunting breath as she looked at Missy, unflinching.

"We agreed…" The brush of cool air against the unmistakable wetness between her thighs sent a shiver through Hally. Her hand moved deliberately, pulling the fabric of her skirt out of the way, exposing herself to her wife's gaze. For a brief moment, she felt a flicker of self-consciousness about just how wet she was, but it was swiftly drowned out by the thrill of this defiance. She glanced at Missy, who was watching her intently, every ounce of that sharp, calculating attention pinned solely on her.

"You can watch me come, Mistress," Hally said, her voice carrying a triumphant edge.

The word—Mistress—seemed to hang in the air, dripping with challenge. Slowly, deliberately, Hally slipped her hand between her legs, her fingers tracing between her folds. She bit her lip, the pleasure immediate and electric. "I don't need you for that," she added, her tone steady, even as her body trembled under her own touch.

She watched as realisation dawned on Missy's face. Tempered rage flickered there, laced with desire so intense it was nearly feral. Missy's chest rose and fell heavily, her gaze dark and molten, locked on Hally's every movement.

"I've gotten really rather proficient at it." Hally murmured, punctuating her words with a soft moan as her fingers moved in slow, deliberate circles.

The heat in Missy's glare only deepened, her body taut as if caught between two decisions. Hally could see the battle waging behind those eyes: Missy might ignore her, seize her, bend her over the desk right then and there. Or she might allow this little rebellion, knowing full well that Hally would pay for it later.

Hally's hearts skipped at the thought of both possibilities, a fresh jolt of pleasure sparking low in her abdomen.

But then Missy stepped back, just slightly, her movements calculated and deliberate. Slowly, like a predator settling in to observe its prey, she lowered herself into a chair. She pressed her fingers together, her elbows resting lightly on the arms of the chair, and fixed Hally with a gaze so unrelenting it left her flushing all over again.

That gaze burned. Missy's pupils were blown wide, her chest faintly flushed, her lips parted ever so slightly despite the pretence of composure. Hally could see the cracks in that mask of indifference, the tension in the way Missy casually crossed her legs.

Hally braced herself against the desk with one hand, her body arching as her other hand worked with deliberate precision. Her fingers moved lower, spreading wetness over her folds before pressing one slowly inside. A sharp intake of breath escaped her as she began to move, slow but deliberate, her thumb brushing over her clit with featherlight precision.

She could take her time. She'd come for her, happily. But Hally would decide when and how. She'd take her sweet fucking time and she'd enjoy it too.

Ok… perhaps there was a bit of a deadline. They had eight hours, seven, now probably. Six by the time they got back. So. Call it five.

She could take her time.

Her eyes fluttered shut for a moment, her head tilting back as a quiet moan slipped free. She heard Missy exhale, heavier this time, the sound fraying at the edges of her control.

A smile curled at Hally's lips, a private, victorious thing. Heat bloomed across her chest. She kept up the steady movement of her hand, bringing herself closer but not too close. Her lips parted on a soft moan as she added a second finger, her body trembling. The tension squeezed, delicious, the coil tightening with every stroke.

The room was quiet except for the soft sound of Hally fucking herself on her wife's desk, accompanied by her increasingly laboured breaths.

She knew her wife was growing impatient. Hally could feel her own pleasure coiling, the tight heat building steadily, threatening to crest, but she slowed herself again and again, denying Missy the satisfaction of a quick resolution

She heard her rise to her feet, a rustle of fabric and the faint sound of Missy moving closer. Hally didn't open her eyes, didn't stop, her movements steady and deliberate as she pushed herself closer to the edge. She rolled her bottom lip between her teeth.

"Open your eyes," Missy commanded, her voice low and sharp.

Hally obeyed, glaring at her but meeting her gaze nonetheless. The intensity in Missy's eyes nearly undid her. A soft breath escaped her lips as Missy leaned closer, her presence a tangible heat without contact.

"Clever little brat, aren't you?" Missy hissed, her voice laced with equal parts anger and arousal.

Hally flushed, biting her lip but refusing to break their gaze. "I'm going to give you ten seconds to finish the job," Missy continued, her voice dangerously low.

"That wasn't part of the deal," Hally retorted, her tone sharp despite the flush spreading across her skin.

A smart pain had her gasping as Missy pinched the inside of her thigh. "I'm afraid it isn't you who makes the rules, darling. Terribly unfair, I know." Moving swiftly, her had came to elicit the same pain on her other leg. Hally jolted. The pain warmed into a sensation that shot straight between her legs. "Five." She started, eyes boring into hers.

Hally scowled.

She hadn't started at ten.

Missy just watched her, the black of her eyes drowning out the ice blue. A predator, watching its prey die in its trap. "Four." Hally didn't relent, she kept up the same maddeningly slow pace. "Three… Two."

Missy's hand moved with deliberate slowness, weaving through Hally's hair, each finger pressing against the soft strands with a sense of intention. The motion wasn't rushed, but the grip tightened as it neared the roots, a forceful tug that sent a sharp sting through Hally's scalp.

The pain was undeniable, sudden, like a warning shot fired. It was more than just discomfort; it was a reminder. A danger. The kind of danger that made the air around them feel heavy, as if the world itself were holding its breath.

Missy's voice, soft but chilling, broke the silence, cutting through the tension with a sharp clarity. "One."

The word hung in the air, the grip on Hally's hair didn't loosen. It held firm, anchoring her. There was no room for movement, no room for escape.

Missy's hand was suddenly on top of hers, pushing past her own fingers. With a sharp hiss, Hally pulled her own hand away at the slight stretch of pain as Missy entered her. Her unforgiving rhythm had Hally crying out in an embarrassing amount of time. Her back arching as her climax smacked into her.

Just as the wave of release crashed, Missy yanked her head up, pulling her hand from her, cutting the peak unsatisfyingly short. Hally's glare was venomous as Missy shamelessly wiped her hand on the inside of Hally's thigh.

"Messy girl." Missy sneered, her grip on Hally's hair unrelenting. "Whoopsie, did I ruin that for you?"

"Bitch." Hally's breath caught in her throat, sharp and shallow, her chest rising and falling in a quick, uneven rhythm. The dull, unresolved ache lingered in her abdomen.

"You are mine." The hand in her hair forced her face to hers. "Your pleasure is mine." Missy leant across her, forcing her to hold onto her wife to remain upright. "Try something like that again and I will bend you over this desk and spank you until you're a writhing, begging little mess." Hally's mouth fell open with a sharp inhale. Heat flooded her face and suddenly the vulnerability of being sat, naked from the waist down on Missy's desk settled into her. The feeling was uncomfortable but strangely not unpleasant.

"Mm." Missy shot her a knowing, slightly cruel smile, her eyes gleaming with amusement.

Missy's fingers brushed the edge of her face in a quick, almost unnoticeable movement, tucking a stray piece of hair behind Hally's ear with an almost gentle warmth. Her eyes met hers, momentarily soft. It was fleeting, but certainly intentional.

Wicked amusement dissolved into the gaze after a moment. "Now. Tidy yourself up, dear. Don't we have a city to save?"

Hart definitely noted her flushed appearance when they made it back to the car, but he didn't mention it. She wasn't sure if he was waiting to do so in front of an audience or if he was actually just a little wary of Missy.

The car hummed softly as they drove, the rhythmic thrum of the engine filling the silence between bursts of conversation. Hally sat on one side in the back, staring out the window as the cityscape blurred into the familiar expanse of the Thames. Across from her, Missy sat, legs crossed neatly, exuding her usual composed elegance.

Missy's tailored black trousers sat sharply against her form, their precise cut elongating her already frame. The black overcoat draped elegantly over her shoulders.

Beside her, Hart was sprawled with a casual arrogance, his boots propped on the edge of the seat, a stark contrast to Missy's poise. One hand rested lazily on his thigh while the other tapped at his phone, the screen casting a faint glow onto his face.

"Where exactly is it buried?" she asked, her voice calm but edged.

"It's technically under the Thames," Hally replied without looking up, her voice steady. "Near Greenwich Pier."

Missy tilted her head slightly, considering this, her fingers drumming idly on the armrest. "How long do they estimate it's been there?"

"They couldn't pinpoint it exactly," Hally said. "Somewhere between five to eight hundred years."

Hart let out a low whistle, his eyes never leaving his phone. "That's one hell of a time capsule. Bet it's booby-trapped to hell."

Missy smirked, the faintest curl of her lips betraying her amusement. "If it isn't, I'll be terribly disappointed." She released a thoughtful hum. "What about the composition of the material?"

Hally glanced up briefly, meeting her eyes. "It looks like wood, but the scans are showing a composition closer to metal. Not synthetic, though. It's natural—just not from here."

Missy raised an eyebrow, leaning back slightly as she considered this. "Not from here." Missy's smile deepened, her amusement clear. "How delightfully ominous. A relic from another world, buried in the mud of this little backwater planet. What do you think it is?"

"If I knew that, we wouldn't need you, would we?" Hally shot back, turning her gaze back to the window.

Missy studied her for a moment longer, her fingers absently smoothing a faint wrinkle in her coat. "What about the structure itself? Any clues on how it functions?"

"It seems to be some sort of mechanism." Hally admitted. "It's constantly shifting. Like it's rewriting itself, or attempting to. There's evidence of a containment field. It could be holding something in, or holding something back."

Missy's eyes gleamed, her curiosity unmistakable. "So, someone buries it underground on a faraway planet? Makes you wonder… what's inside."

Hart snorted, finally looking up from his phone. "If we're lucky, it's something shiny. If we're not, it's probably teeth."

The car slowed as they neared their destination, the hum of the engine dipping into a low growl. Missy sat forward slightly, her elbows resting on her knees, her sharp gaze fixed on Hally.

"Well," she said smoothly, her tone laced with anticipation, "Shall we?"

Hally slipped out of the car first, there were a few UNIT soldiers moving around the entrance site. She cleared her throat and turned back to her wife, who was just climbing out of the vehicle. " I suppose it's a little late to ask you to play nice."

Missy flashed her a wicked smile, one that spoke volumes. Missy didn't need to voice it, but she did anyway. "Perhaps if you'd behaved, I might have been inclined to…"

Hally could feel Hart's gaze shift between them. Although, mercifully, he remained silent. Hally sighed softly and moved forward, UNIT soldiers led the way as they descended into the cavernous site, their boots tapping against the ground in a steady rhythm. The air was thick with the hum of activity—flashes of lights and the distant clatter of tools underscored their descent. Hally's eyes scanned the area, already noting the slight crater that had been formed around the container.

Just ahead, Kate appeared, her posture tightening as she took in the woman following Hally. "We've set up a perimeter. The site's secure. Anything you need, you have at your disposal." Her gaze had slid over Hally to fix itself firmly on Missy, her intention unwavering.

Missy gave a small nod, her smile slipping into something that was all but benign. Her gaze slid over Kate, assessing her with a lingering glance.

Behind Kate, Martha lingered at the edge of the group, observing quietly. Her eyes briefly met Hally's, a look of caution in them, but she said nothing. Jack, however, took a far more direct approach. His body language was taut, his steps quick and purposeful as he crossed into their space, eyes narrowing as he sized up Missy.

Missy, barely acknowledging his approach, tilted her head and quipped with a wry smile, "Ah, Jack. Ever the one to make your presence known. Such a shame it doesn't add much value."

Jack didn't flinch. His voice was low but filled with steely intent. "Maybe I'm just here to take you out if things go sideways." He didn't break eye contact, standing his ground.

Missy chuckled softly, her amusement as effortless as ever. "Good luck with that." she said, her voice dripping with mock sweetness.

"Can we just…" Hally exhaled, motioning towards the box with a resolute hum.

With that, Missy's gaze shifted away, her attention drifting elsewhere as she casually took in each and every detail of the cavern around them.

Missy's gaze lingered, her lips curling into a small, almost amused smirk. She tilted her head, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial murmur as she leaned slightly toward Hally.

"Now… which one of us do you think they've brought her here for?"

Hally frowned, glancing in the direction of Missy's gaze. Her eyes landed on Alina, who stood a few paces away, arms crossed, her sharp eyes scanning the activity around the site.

She hadn't been here earlier, of that Hally was certain. That could only mean one thing: Kate had called her in after Hally left.

Hally let out a small sigh, her shoulders lifting and falling as she turned her attention back to Missy, fixing her with a pointed stare. "I imagine it's the volatile combination."

Missy's smirk widened into a grin.

Hally resisted the urge to roll her eyes, turning her attention to the crater ahead. She gestured with her head, her tone brisk but steady. "Come on."

Without waiting for Missy's reply, she started forward, the loose dirt crunching under her boots as she descended into the slight crater that had formed around the buried object. Missy followed, her pace unhurried.

Missy seemed perfectly at ease with the undercurrent of tension that seemed to have blanketed the area. She remained still, watching the humans move around her, allowing them to scatter in a flurry of fear and necessity while she simply observed. She had no need to rush—she'd let them scurry as they would.

Finally, she moved towards the box. Her fingers hovered over its surface, fingertips brushing lightly across the material, testing the texture. She took a breath, her voice a low hum as she spoke to herself, though loud enough for Hally to hear. "Hmm," she murmured, her tone dripping with mock approval. "Delightful."

Hally watched closely, her posture tense. Missy, however, remained entirely calm as she pulled a series of tools from the discarded kit at their feet. With the same calm, practised precision, Missy made a few swift adjustments, twisting a panel at the base of the box to reveal a series of metallic seams hidden beneath its wooden exterior. She muttered something under her breath, her voice barely audible, her fingers making precise, efficient movements.

She shifted another component into place with a sharp click, then paused, her eyes narrowing as she examined the small readouts now flashing on the small screen of the instrument she'd adapted. A faint spark of interest flashed in her gaze, then quickly disappeared as she continued working.

Hally, standing back a little, felt an odd sense of detachment as she watched Missy work. The area around them buzzed with activity—UNIT soldiers scurrying about, some taking readings, others standing guard while scientists and engineers milled around, checking and rechecking the data. The whole cavern seemed to be waiting, patiently for her wife to finish. Holding their breath as they awaited her judgment.

Missy moved around the box with fluidity, her steps deliberate. She adjusted her posture, leaning slightly over the object, tapping a device here, twisting another there. Each movement was precise, done with an unwavering confidence. Hally had to wonder if she actually knew what she was doing, or if she'd simply built the attitude into her being over the centuries.

Missy's sharp eyes flicked from Hally to the assembled group, her usual playfulness giving way to something more calculating. She held her hand out to Hally with an innocent air, though anyone who knew Missy well enough could sense the subtle challenge in her gesture.

"Give me your hand," Missy said smoothly, her voice laced with a false sweetness that Hally knew all too well. She arched a brow at her wife, a frown tugging at her lips. There was a strange tension in the air, as though they were all collectively holding their breath in anticipation.

Hally hesitated for a fraction of a second, glancing at the onlookers, all watching quietly. Jack's eyes were particularly intense, filled with distrust and wariness, but he didn't make a move to intervene. Hally sighed softly and extended her hand.

Missy's fingers curled around hers with unexpected gentleness, the contrast in their touch oddly intimate against the chill of the underground air. Without warning, Missy produced a small, sharp instrument from a tool kit, her eyes never leaving Hally's. With a flick of her wrist, she pricked the tip of Hally's finger, drawing a small drop of blood. She let it drop.

The instant the blood touched the surface of the box, it sizzled as though it were falling into boiling liquid, the box reacting violently to the contact, the edges of the bloodstain curling like smoke. Mechanisms beneath the surface seemed to shift and click into place, the surface of the box shimmering briefly as if the very air around it had been electrified.

Hally watched, her breath caught in her throat. Jack took a step forward, his posture tense. "What the hell was that?" he demanded, his voice low and cautious.

Kate, standing slightly behind, shifted. Her eyes flicked from Missy to the device, then back to Hally. She moved forward, concern threading her voice. "What just happened?"

Missy, unbothered by the attention, leaned closer to the box, her eyes gleaming with interest. The small smile on her face deepened, as though she'd expected this. "Well," she drawled, her tone dripping with amusement, "it's certainly not a bomb, if that's what you were worried about."

Kate didn't seem entirely reassured. She crossed her arms, still cautious but intrigued. "Have you come across something like this before?"

Missy straightened, eyes flicking over the shifting surface of the box. "Variations," she replied simply, her gaze focused as she continued to inspect the device. "It's a containment system, of sorts. And something... something is breaking out."

"Breaking out?" Jack's voice was sharp, but there was a tinge of concern behind it.

Missy took a small step back, her fingers still hovering over the box. "The containment is failing. It's holding something in, but not for much longer. Whatever is inside is beginning to press against the boundaries, and if we don't act, it will escape. And to be perfectly honest with you… I don't think any of us would survive that."

"So we have to what…? Repair the containment?" Jack insisted, his tone urgent as he took another step closer.

Missy's smile widened, but it was less playful now, more knowing. She glanced back at the group, her eyes flicking to Hally, who was still standing beside her, observing with a mix of curiosity and concern. Missy took a moment before speaking, her voice taking on a quieter, more measured tone. "Exactly. Which is where it gets a little fun. You and your little ape brain might call it witchcraft, but it's not. It's just science. Science, ancient and forgotten perhaps, but still science."

The others exchanged glances, the words "witchcraft" and "science" both lingering in the air, uncomfortably at odds. Missy continued, her words flowing easily, as though explaining to a child. "The strength comes from the shape. Not the box. It's a pentavessel. Something created in fifths. Whatever it was… a group of five powerful beings came together to bind it. Each one will have offered a 'sacrifice'. We can recreate that ritual, rebuild the containment, and solve the problem."

"Five?" Kate repeated, her tone sceptical. "What do you mean by sacrifices?"

Missy looked at her, her eyes narrowing slightly as she shifted her stance. "Blood." she said simply, her voice light but full of intent.

"Like blood magic?" Kate's question was direct, a clear attempt to understand what Missy was suggesting.

Missy didn't immediately answer. She let the words hang in the air, her fingers moving idly over the surface of the box. Finally, she spoke again, her voice dripping with amusement. "Yes, but no. Magic isn't a thing. It's all just science, really. Chemical alterations in the blood. The right emotions, the right states of being, they change the chemical makeup of the blood in a way that strengthens the seal. The sacrifice, so to speak."

The group was silent for a moment as they processed the implications of her words.

Jack scoffed, unable to hide his disbelief. "Witchcraft, then."

Missy's lips curled into a smile, a sly glint in her eyes. "Yes, if your tiny pea-brain can't understand the artistry of science, then sure, let's call it witchcraft."

"Five?" Kate asked, her voice carefully controlled, though the strain of the situation was evident in her posture.

"Yes," Missy confirmed, her tone suddenly more serious. "Five individuals. Each one contributing their blood, to strengthen the prison. But blood alone isn't enough. The blood offered must be laced with specific chemicals that only come from experiencing specific, heightened emotions. It's supposed to be unpleasant." She glanced briefly at Hally, a teasing smile playing at the corners of her lips.

Hart frowned, his arms crossed over his chest as he took in the explanation. "That sounds easy enough. Get a few UNIT grunts and have them sit and cry in a circle."

Missy chuckled softly, the sound rich with amusement. "You could," she said with a small, knowing smile. "Perhaps it would sustain the containment for a week or two." Her tone shifted slightly, carrying a sharper edge of authority. "The original beings, however, would have been extraordinary. Powerful. Clever. Complicated. The more charged the offering, the stronger it will be. The longer it will hold."

Jack's gaze flickered between Hally and Missy, his expression growing more serious. "Then I suppose we've already got three…"

Missy met his gaze, her smile widening, her eyes sparkling with an almost dangerous delight.

Kate's brow furrowed as she stepped closer, her arms at her sides in a stance that radiated tension. "We don't have a whole load of 'powerful' or 'complicated' beings to play with here…"

Missy's grin didn't falter. "Ah, but 'complicated' can mean many things," she said, her voice laced with mischief. "It can certainly be the endlessly resurrecting human…" Her gaze flicked to Jack, lingering for a moment before moving to Hally. "It could be a human who's travelled through the time vortex…" Her eyes drifted again, settling on Martha. "… A rewritten timeline… a death that never happened."

Her gaze shifted one last time, landing on Alina. "Or," Missy continued, her smirk deepening, "forgetting all that, it just might be five people, deliciously interwoven in one another's history."

Kate's eyes narrowed slightly as she caught Missy's meaning. Her gaze flicked between Hally, Martha, and Alina before she cleared her throat, stepping aside.

Martha stepped forward first, her expression unreadable as she silently joined the group. Alina followed a moment later, her movements precise and deliberate.

"How does this work?" Martha asked, her tone clipped but steady.

Missy's grin grew wider. "To start, we'll join ourselves to the box. Just a drop of blood will do."

Hally shot Missy a glare, the weight of her disapproval clear. Because Missy had already given her blood to the box. Missy merely smiled in return, as if entirely unaffected by the look. With an easy motion, she pricked her own finger and let a single drop of blood fall onto the box.

Jack stepped up next, eyeing Missy with open suspicion as he prepared to do the same. "So, it's an emotion each?" he asked, his tone gruff.

"Mmhmm," Missy hummed, handing him the sharp instrument without a second thought.

Jack hesitated. "Any clues on which ones?"

Missy's eyes twinkled, her smile almost predatory. "The interesting ones," she replied, her voice teasing. With a fluid motion, she extended the instrument to Martha. "The box will request," she explained, her tone light, "and we can choose which one of us fulfils the request."

The group exchanged tense glances, the weight of Missy's words settling over them as the process began.

The tension in the air was palpable as Hally broke the silence. "How?"

Missy turned to her, the tilt of her head almost lazy, though her gaze was anything but. "However is necessary."

The box fizzed as Alina offered the final drop of her blood, the sound sharp and unnatural.

Missy hummed, the sound low and melodic, before gesturing with a flick of her fingers. "A little space. Kate."

Kate didn't hesitate. She cleared the room swiftly, her presence lingering just long enough to make sure it was only them—Missy, Hally, Jack, Alina, Martha, Hart, and herself—left behind.

Missy's expression turned as she looked around the circle. "A reminder," she said with a smirk. "This isn't going to be pleasant."

"Nothing involving you ever is," Jack muttered, his tone laced.

Missy's smirk widened. "That's the spirit."

They formed a loose circle, Missy standing to Hally's right and Jack to her left. Alina stood next to Missy, with Martha positioned between Alina and Jack.

The device shimmered faintly in the dim light, as though alive, reacting to the gathered group. It ticked faintly, the sound of tiny gears shifting and grinding.

A trickle of unease slid through Hally's chest, sharp and icy. Fear. She looked up at Missy, who was watching them all with a knowing glint in her eyes. "Any volunteers?" Missy asked, her voice smooth.

"You all felt that too?" Martha asked, breaking the silence.

"Mmhmm," Missy replied, her lips quirking slightly.

Hally shuddered. The sensation wasn't just her own; they were all linked, to each other, to the box. "How do we choose?"

Missy shrugged, her smirk sharp and teasing. "Anyone got a particular memory that fills them with fear?"

The group exchanged uneasy glances. Alina bit her lip, her brows knitting together in hesitation. "Maybe," she muttered.

Missy arched an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed. "I'm going to need something a bit more certain than 'maybe.'"

Alina sighed sharply, straightening. "Yes. Fine. Yes."

Missy reached out, taking Alina's hand and pressing it firmly against the box. The moment her skin touched the surface, the world shifted around them.

The underground chamber dissolved into something else entirely—a forest, wild and shadowed, a small cabin behind them. Hally's breath hitched. She recognised it instantly. There was no way she couldn't. A shiver ran down her spine.

Missy's frown deepened as the scene sharpened into focus. A younger version of Alina stood before them, her face tight with fear. Gunshots echoed around them, mingling with chaos. Toclafane swarmed the air.

The memory pressed down on all of them, heavy and choking, fear amplified. There was a shout and Alina's attention shifted. Hally could see herself through Alina's eyes. She was on the ground, hands pressing into Armitage's chest. She was shaking violently, tendrils of gold light leaking from her. As they watched her eyes rolled back in her head, her body convulsing as if in a fit. The Master had her in his arms, his hands gripping her head, shaking her in desperation.

Fear lanced through the memory—Alina's fear—twisting and crushing.

It was a deep pit of certainty that seemed to fix itself within them.

A certainty.

She was going to die.

Hally had collapsed. Held up solely by The Master's arms.

She was convulsing.

Violently.

Then, an explosion.

A heat. An endless white. And the memory cut out, yanking them back into the present.

Alina hissed sharply, yanking her hand from the box. Blood welled from a small cut on her palm, pooling on the surface of the device before it shifted and clicked, seemingly satisfied.

Martha's voice broke the uneasy silence. "Is it… is it going to do that for all of us?"

Missy clicked her tongue against her teeth. "Let's go with yes."

"Great," Jack muttered under his breath.

Missy shot him a pointed look. "I told you it wasn't going to be fun."

Hally couldn't bring herself to look at Alina, the weight of what she'd just witnessed pressing on her chest. Alina's greatest fear… was… what? The moment Hally had… killed her.

A subtle shift of sensation passed through the group—a wave of desire, warm and lingering. Her attention shifted back to the device in front of them.

"Well, I'm volunteering one of you two for that," Jack quipped, glancing between Missy and Hally.

Hally met Missy's gaze, but before any kind of discussion could occur, before she could even think about stepping forward, Missy's hand was already pressed to the box's surface.

The device shimmered again, searching. The image flickered and shifted.

It clicked through a series of moments, swiftly.

A gladiatorial arena, The Master watching her from the stands.
A murder, Rassilon falling at her feet.
Rain pouring in the Scottish Highlands.

Then it slowed, clicking onto a memory from just weeks ago.

Hally's lounge.

Lily sat cross-legged on the floor, holding a cardboard spinner with an air of bossy poise.

"Mum, your right foot is supposed to be on red!" Lily's voice rang out, exasperated.

But Hally wasn't paying attention to. She was lying back on the Twister mat, laughing uncontrollably. Missy hovered above her, one hand awkwardly pressed into the green circle, the other pressed against the mat in a precarious attempt to maintain balance. Despite the absurdity of their positions, Missy was still taking the game's rules very seriously.

Through the lens of Missy's memory, Hally was radiant. Her laughter rang out, light and infectious, tears of laughter streamed down her face, her face flushed with joy. She was utterly perfect. Utterly happy.

The warmth of desire rippled through them, soft and pleasant. Heated. Undeniable. The scene began to dissolve. The memory faded as Missy pulled her hand back from the box, examining the small cut it had left with mild intrigue. A bead of blood pooled at the edge, but she didn't seem to notice—or care.

Her gaze flicked to Hally, frowning at the obvious attempt of hers to suppress the smirk tugging at her lips.

Missy's eyes narrowed, and her tone turned sharp. "Don't."

But Hally, predictably, did.

"You're really quite weird… you know that, don't you?" Hally teased, her smirk widening into a grin.

Missy's retort was immediate, clipped and dry. "Be thankful it didn't decide to show everyone earlier."

Jack frowned, his eyes darting between the two of them. "What happened earlier?"

"Nothing," Hally replied flatly, her voice cutting the conversation short.

The box shifted again, its patterns rippling across its surface in mesmerizing shapes. The faint hum it emitted grew louder, drawing everyone's attention back to it. The momentary lightness evaporated, replaced by a tangible tension in the air.

Hally stiffened as a sharp, hot wave of jealousy surged through her.

Martha cleared her throat, breaking the silence. "I think I've got this one..." She flashed a weak smile at Jack before cautiously placing her hand on the box. The patterns shifted once more, the hum deepening.

The room dissolved again, transporting them to another memory.

"Looks like witchcraft, but it isn't. Can't be." The Doctor's voice was sharp, almost accusatory, as he glanced over at Martha, who stood awkwardly by the side of a small, cramped bed.

"Are you going to stand there all night?" he added impatiently.

Martha sighed, rolling her eyes as she relented. "Budge up a bit, then. Sorry, there's not much room."

She climbed onto the bed beside him, careful to keep as much space between them as possible. Despite her best efforts, the situation felt undeniably strange, and she laughed awkwardly. "Us two here, same bed. Tongues will wag."

At that moment, The Doctor's daughter intervened, kicking off her shoes as she clambered onto the bed, ignoring their protests as she wedged herself between them.

"Move over," she ordered, her tone leaving no room for argument.

The three jostled awkwardly for space, huffing and muttering complaints until they managed to settle.

"There are many things that could look like witchcraft, Doctor," Hally said finally, raising her hand.

Golden wisps of energy flowed effortlessly from her fingers, curling and dancing at the foot of the bed.

To her left, Martha's mouth fell open, her awe written plainly across her face.

The Doctor sighed, settling deeper into the bed. "Quite. Plus the psychic paper… There's such a thing as psychic energy, but a human couldn't channel it like that. Not without a generator the size of Taunton. And I think we'd have spotted that."

He shuffled down further, making himself more comfortable. "No, there's something I'm missing. Something really close, staring me right in the face, and I can't see it."

A wistful pause hung in the air before he added softly, "Rose'd know."

Hally said nothing, simply laying her head on the pillow beside him.

The Doctor's voice softened further as he continued, "A friend of mine. Rose. Right now, she'd say exactly the right thing. Still, can't be helped. You're a novice. Never mind. I'll take you back home tomorrow."

His words hung heavily in the air. The feeling stung them all. Palpable as Martha exhaled sharply, leaning over to blow out the candle.

"Great," she muttered, her tone cutting.

The scene shifted, the box seemingly unsatisfied.

Martha stood just outside the door, staring at the sign on the office with growing frustration. John Smith. She threw open the door with a sharp exhale, her mind already running with the questions she intended to ask. "We're going to find out," she muttered. The room was filled with the sterile smell of antiseptic, the quiet murmur of voices, and the unmistakable sound of Nurse Redfern fussing over the man sitting behind the desk.

John Smith. Or, The Doctor.

Martha felt the irritation surge within her, her fists tightening as she marched straight into the room. "Is he all right?" she demanded, her tone sharp as she approached John Smith.

Nurse Redfern bristled at the intrusion, snapping with more authority than Martha was prepared for. "Excuse me, Martha. It's hardly good form to enter a master's study without knocking."

But Martha wasn't interested in niceties. She glanced over at Hally, who had made an unapologetic beeline toward John Smith. She supposed as his daughter, she could. Martha let out a sharp breath as she turned to face Nurse Redfern.

Hally gently touched John's shoulder as she knelt down to inspect the back of his head. She glanced up at him with a slight frown. "We heard you fell down the stairs…" Hally's voice was calm, but there was an edge to it, one Martha hadn't missed. John Smith gave a tight, apologetic smile and tried to brush it off.

"Have you checked for concussion?" Martha's voice cut through.

Nurse Redfern was quick to retaliate. "I have. And I daresay I know a lot more about it than you," she snapped back, her eyes sharp with challenge.

Martha and Hally locked eyes for a moment. "Sorry. I'll just… tidy your things," Martha muttered, turning away from the older woman and starting to move items around the room absentmindedly.

Hally stayed seated next to John Smith. He gave her a sympathetic look and placed a hand on her arm, the gesture comforting, but only just. "I'm sorry, I must have given you such a fright," he said softly.

"It's fine… As long as you're alright," Hally replied, forcing a smile. But the smile didn't reach her eyes, and Martha could feel the quiet frustration building in the air.

John nodded, his face softening slightly before he turned back toward Nurse Redfern. "I was just telling Nurse Redfern, Matron, about my dreams. They are quite remarkable tales. I keep imagining that I'm someone else and that I'm hiding..."

Martha stood still for a moment, her breath catching. "Oh?" Hally asked, her voice tight. There was an almost imperceptible wariness beneath her calm demeanour.

But Nurse Redfern was intrigued. "Hiding? In what way?" she asked, leaning forward slightly.

John, blissfully unaware of the growing tension in the room, began to elaborate. "I've been having these dreams about being an explorer with two hearts," he continued, oblivious to the ripple of concern that passed between Hally and Martha. He reached for a notebook and handed it to the nurse. "I have, er, I have written some of these dreams down in the form of fiction."

Hally stood, walking toward the nurse with a soft sigh. "Oh, I'm sure Nurse Redfern has better things to do…" she began, but the nurse was already one step ahead, pivoting just fast enough to avoid Hally's reach.

"I'd be very interested," Nurse Redfern interjected with a smile, opening the notebook.

John's voice became a little more animated as he began to explain the bizarre, impossible drawings and the elaborate stories he'd dreamed.

"It's become quite a hobby," he said jovially.

Nurse Redfern's smile deepened, and she pointed to one of the sketches. "It's wonderful. And quite an eye for the pretty girls," she noted, her tone laden with amusement.

John blushed, flustered. "Oh no, no, she's just an invention," he said, stumbling over his words. "This character—Rose—I call her Rose. She seems to disappear later on..."

Martha stood rigid at the door, watching the exchange with growing unease. Jealously stirred deep within her stomach. Her eyes darted to Hally, who stood beside the nurse now, a dark expression clouding her face.

Nurse Redfern turned the book toward Hally. "Oh look, Miss Smith, there you are too." She grinned brightly, showing Hally the page where her likeness had been sketched—small, simple lines that captured her.

"Wonderful," Hally bit out, her voice laced with a simmering tension that was only half-veiled.

The scene shifted again.

"What is it, mind control?" Martha asked, not sure what else to call it.

The Doctor looked at her, eyes sharp with urgency. "No, no, no, no, no. It's subtler than that. Any stronger and people would question it." He paused, his brow furrowed as if he were seeing something far away, even though he was right in front of her. "But contained in that rhythm, in layers of code, 'Vote Saxon.' Believe in me. Whispering to the world." He stepped closer, the intensity in his voice heightening. "Oh, yes! That's how he hid himself from me, because I should have sensed there was another Time Lord on Earth. I should have known way back. The signal cancelled him out."

Martha blinked, still trying to wrap her mind around it all. There was so much at play, so much she didn't understand. "So, what are we supposed to do about it?"

Jack's voice cut through her thoughts, practical and to the point. "Any way you can stop it?"

The Doctor's face grew even more focused, his mind clearly working faster than anyone else's. "Not from down here. But now we know how he's doing it," he said with a sudden, almost gleeful realisation. "We can fight back. Yes, oh yes!"

Martha couldn't help but feel the tiniest flicker of hope, a brief smile at the hope in The Doctor's voice.

The Doctor immediately began pulling apart the phone and the laptop, his fingers moving deftly as he combined the pieces. "Three Tardis keys," he muttered, almost to himself. "Three pieces of the Tardis, all with low-level perception properties, because the Tardis is designed to blend in. Well, sort of." He paused for a second, then grinned at her. "But now, the Archangel Network's got a second low-level signal. Weld the key to the network, and Martha, look at me. You can see me, yes?"

She blinked, a question forming on her lips. Of course, she could see him—he was right there in front of her, with that familiar manic energy that always seemed to surround him. But before she could voice her confusion, The Doctor looked at her sharply.

"What about now?"

Martha's heart skipped a beat as he slipped the string around his neck, the Tardis key dangling from it. She tried to look at him, but something happened—something subtle, but disorienting. Her mind told her he was still standing there, but there was a strange pull, a resistance. For a moment, she couldn't quite look at him. It wasn't as if he wasn't there—he was—but something made her want to look away.

"It's like I know you're there, but I don't want to know," she said, the words slipping out before she could stop them. Her voice sounded strange even to her own ears, like she was being pulled in two directions at once.

The Doctor's eyes softened, but his grin didn't fade. "And back again," he said, as he pulled the string from his neck. "See? It just shifts your perception a tiny little bit. Doesn't make us invisible, just unnoticed." He looked at her with that gleam in his eyes, as if this discovery were the most thrilling thing in the world. "Oh, I know what it's like. It's like... it's like when you fancy someone and they don't even know you exist. That's what it's like… Come on."

Martha's stomach twisted. She knew exactly what he meant. That painful, inexplicable feeling of being invisible when all you wanted was to be seen.

The jealousy lingered.

Jack's voice interrupted her thoughts, and Martha was grateful for the distraction. "You too, huh?" he said with a smirk.

Hally watched as Martha pulled her hand back, the cut on her palm already starting to bleed. "Alright… for the record. I am over all of that," she muttered, a little too quickly, as if she were trying to convince herself. She cleared her throat, wincing as her gaze lingered on the injury.

Missy smiled faintly. "Evidently not as much as you think…" The words slid off her tongue like honey, smooth and sharp at once.

Hally frowned, glancing quickly at Jack. "What did you mean by 'you too'?" she asked sharply.

Missy didn't miss a beat, her expression turning mockingly sweet. "Now, now, darling. Don't get prickly because he fancied your father before he fancied you."

Hally opened her mouth to protest, before her breath caught, a sudden rush of anger flaring up in her chest.

The box in front of them shifted slightly, its movements subtle, almost imperceptible. Hally could feel the weight of it, the demand building again, like a pressure none of them couldn't escape. Whatever they were doing, it was working. It was working.

The anger roiled in her veins, but it wasn't just hers. The box—it was like it was feeding off their emotions, amplifying them. She could feel the pulse of it under her skin. Her gaze flickered to Jack. They shared a brief look. It was down to her or him now.

Missy clicked her tongue against her teeth, the sound too loud in the tense silence. "I think the Captain has far more to be angry about, darling. Your anger is usually a mild strop at best."

Hally shot her a glare, letting the full force of her irritation show. It didn't faze Missy, of course. She only smiled that sarcastic, infuriating smile that always seemed to take the edge off her own. Missy's eyes shifted, landing squarely on Jack, and there was something in the way she looked at him—almost like a challenge.

"Off you go, hero," Missy said, her voice laced with mock sweetness.

Jack didn't flinch. He glared right back at Missy, and without a second thought, he placed his hand firmly on top of the box. The air crackled. Shifted. It pulled them through multiple moments. Each lingered momentarily before passing to the next.

The realisation that The Doctor had left him. The bitterness twisted his chest, anger bubbling up, but it was tempered with something deeper—loss. It burned in a way he couldn't shake, leaving Jack with: nothing.

Flashes danced in front of them. The Master, grinning, torturing him—breaking him. The cold, calculated malice in his voice. Jack's throat tightened with the pain, each strike like a burn across his skin. His voice had rasped out through clenched teeth, "What are you doing to her?"

The Master's response had been nonchalant, his eyes glinting with something cruel. "Her?"

Jack's eyes blazed with fury. He could barely breathe through the fire rushing through his body. And then, the Master—the Master—had caught Jack's chin, smirking, leaning in too close. "Oh... nothing she doesn't beg for..."

Rage. It rushed through him, drowning everything else, clouding his judgment, turning everything in its path into pure fury. How could she? How could she?

The memory of her kissing The Master burned its way into his mind, shattering the last of his patience. How could she?

His thoughts were jarring, angry fragments, but then something shifted again. A different scene—a low hum breaking his thoughts. Hally's presence tugged him back. He found her, looking at him with something more vulnerable than he wanted to admit. Her gaze faltered. He could feel the weight of her guilt, see the struggle in her eyes. Her breath caught, the guilt swelling like an ocean, threatening to drown them both.

"You weren't going to UNIT..." Jack's voice was quiet, but sharp.

Hally inhaled deeply, the weight of months of lies threatening to collapse on her. "No."

"You lied."

"I've lied quite a lot to you, Jack," she admitted, her voice steady but layered with something raw.

Jack's anger flared once more, a rush of heat that left no room for doubt. The words hit him hard, but it was the admission that stung—that she had lied, had kept secrets. They had all been tangled in their own mess, but this... this was the one truth that Jack couldn't ignore. He had trusted her.

"Transmat engaged."

The words rang out, familiar and chilling. Jack's voice, bitter and angry, calling out her name, full of rage.

He was there, right in front of him.

And she had… she had done this? Behind his back. She had used him.

And she didn't care?

"Hi..." She said, the simple greeting thick with layers of unspoken words.

"Hi."

The world around them shifted. Another time, another place.

He was standing among soldiers, within the submarine, speaking into his vortex manipulator. "You have three minutes to surrender the Time Lords to the UNIT convoy behind you."

Then, her voice had cut through.

"You're nothing but the foot soldiers for a man with a personal vendetta," she said, her voice sharp, cutting through the noise. "If you open fire, it will be the last thing any of you do. Hardly fair stakes to ask from the man who can't die, hmm?"

A sneer twisted at Jack's lips, his eyes narrowing with disgust, but she didn't care. Not then. She wasn't talking to Jack—not anymore.

"And I'll give you a different option." Her voice dropped, the anger simmering under the surface. "Back off. Run back home, and me, my civilians, and my husband will forget this ever happened. Okay?"

Jack didn't flinch, didn't even break. "60 seconds," he said, before cutting off the link.

The world around them flickered.

A different voice broke in. "We have reports of involvement from the Unified Intelligence Task Force? Are UNIT now assisting at a domestic level?"

She turned her head slightly, and his gaze met hers, still trying to push through the crowd to get to her.

Her eyes met his.

She barely reacted.

"We're Torchwood," she said, cutting through the noise, her voice strong as she spoke to the reporter. But her gaze never left Jack's. The challenge was there, unwavering. His rage simmered. How could she? After everything?

"Torchwood America," she added, her words purposeful, almost mocking.

It shifted, and a new kind of rage filtered through.

A disbelief. An empathetic anger.

"School," she said quietly as she watched him approach. He was so close now, and the chaos of the moment almost felt like nothing compared to the silence between them. "Jack... School. People. Humans. School."

The words barely left her lips before Missy moved in, stepping between them, and Jack backed off, the anger still seething in him.

"Stop it. Both of you," Hally hissed.

Jack's gaze burned, furious.

"You, young man, are very lucky to still have both of your hands."

How could she? How could he?

Anger flooded through Jack, his entire body stiffening with it, his eyes narrowing with a storm of emotions. He stood still for a moment. Tense.

"I'm almost flattered." Missy's voice cut through the tension, a knowing smirk curling at the edges of her lips as she moved back into place.

Jack's jaw tightened, and he shifted his hand away from where it had been hovering. He closed his fist, the muscles in his arm taut, as if trying to force the anger back into submission.

The box shifted, a soft thrum of energy echoing through the air, as though reacting to the growing intensity in the room.

Grief slowly seeped through them all—undeniable, inescapable. Missy hummed softly, her eyes flickering to Hally. She looked up at her with an expression that softened in contrast to the sharper edges of their tension, a quiet understanding behind her gaze.

She held out her hand.

Hally hesitated.

She knew what this meant.

A lot of it could be ugly, she could feel it lingering in the air like smoke, but there was no way around it.

Everyone else had faced it.

There was a gnawing sense that Missy had intentionally left her last.

Taking a steadying breath, Hally finally reached out. Her hand brushed Missy's, a silent agreement hanging between them. There was a gentle squeeze, just as Missy lowered Hally's hand toward the box.

The surroundings shifted, the air around them warping as if the world itself was reacting to the touch. Everything else faded for a split second, swept away into something else entirely.

It flickered through scenes, a rapid, almost violent slideshow of moments.

She woke up on The Doctor's TARDIS, the room spinning around her as her eyes adjusted. Alone.

The Master. Not dead. The betrayal.

The scene shifted again.

"If I bring her back onto the TARDIS the alarm will sound again. The TARDIS is very… sensitive. You shouldn't have two versions of the same person existing within the same timeline. And even if you do… they certainly shouldn't exist so close together. In the same TARDIS…"

The human was struggling to catch up."What? I don't understand…"

Hally had stopped breathing. Blood drained from her face as the penny finally dropped. Cold and heavy. Time seemed to slow to a painful halt. The room was immediately far too hot. So many eyes. Everyone was watching. The realisation was like a collision. Head on. Smashing her into a million pieces.

On the screen, The Doctor had turned towards Rose, approaching her slowly, like you might a dangerous animal."Currently, we have two versions of my daughter. We have the one who I just sent out… and then we have the one in the TARDIS. Here."He motioned towards Rose.

Hally face crumpled as she looked to her father. Her expression of absolute distress was mirrored back to her on his face. His eyes glistened.

Rose paused."What are you saying, Doctor?"

"I'm sorry… I didn't think this could happen, it never crossed my mind that…"

The scene blurred around them again, sharper this time, drawn into focus by a sound of destruction. The Master was dying—no, had died, his body before her. Her own screams.

Another flicker. The Master pushing her. Sacrificing himself.

How close they had been.

Watching it.

The Doctor cleared his throat. "Alright, here is a proposal. You, release me… we will take her to the TARDIS, where we'll leave her while we reverse…." He motioned around, towards the TV's with the multiples of The Master. "This."

Master watched him, and eventually nodded. "Yes. Fine." He went to move away before a thought passed through him and he rounded back towards him, pointing a warning finger at his face. "But this isn't us playing happy families… don't get any ideas, Grandad."

The Doctor nodded, his jaw unconsciously tensing.

The Master's eyes scanned across the straps holding The Doctor to the chair, he could see the dilemma within in gaze, teetering on the edge of whether or not to trust him. "If you double-cross me on this Doctor…" There was a vulnerable lilt behind the warning.

"This is bigger than us." The Doctor offered.

The moments, the flashes, swirled together, some lingering, others just flashes of light, too quick to catch.

River stepped in, her voice cutting through. "This was exactly you! All this. All of it. BOTH of you. You make them so afraid. When you began, all those years ago, sailing off to see the universe, did you ever think you'd become this? The man who can turn an army around at the mention of his name. Doctor. The word for healer and wise man throughout the universe. We get that word from you, you know. But if you carry on the way you are, what might that word come to mean? To the people of the Gamma Forests, the word Doctor means mighty warrior. How far you've come. And her. They blame you for her. Your hybrid. And can you blame them? They watched… as she destroyed sixty-thousand lives. Took over the planet and what? What were the consequences? She killed all those people and the both of you just hopped away. You're both so loud. So seemingly indestructible. You can't release a storm and then try and fit it back into its box, Doctor. And now they've taken a child, the child of your best friends, and they're going to turn her into a weapon just to bring you down. And all this, my love, in fear of you."

The Doctor stood in stunned silence, his gaze shifting from River to Hally and then down to the floor. He looked lost, like a beaten child.

Hally's breath came in harsh, ragged gasps.

The Doctor took a small step back, his movements hesitant, as he edged closer to the TARDIS. "I…"

River offered him a small, reassuring smile.

He swallowed hard. "River… take everyone home. Take…" His gaze lingered on his daughter. "Take her to Earth…" He took another step towards the TARDIS.

Hally's voice cut through. "What?" Her tone was urgent and pleading. "No. Doctor!" As he moved closer to the TARDIS, she held out her hand, forcing the TARDIS doors to slam shut before he could reach them. "No! You promised! You promised me!"

"I have to find Melody…" The Doctor shot back.

"No. You don't!" Hally snapped.

"I have to find her. I have to put this right."

"She is fine!" Hally screamed, her voice raw with frustration.

The Doctor's face twisted in confusion and concern.

"You can't leave me, Doctor. You promised you would keep me safe. You promised we would find him." To her despair, water had started to track down her cheeks.

"Don't you understand?" He turned back to her, frustration boiling over. "Can't you see?! She's right. All of this. Was because of us. Can't you see what we have become? We are dangerous. And we are more dangerous when we're together. All of this. IS our fault. I can't help you. I can't help you at the expense of EVERYTHING else. We're better apart. Don't you understand? You'll be safer. Your daughter will be safer. Perhaps all this time. Don't you see, when we're together, destruction follows. The Daleks, the Cybermen…" He ran a hand over his face, his voice breaking. "Always. So much so that they stole a baby and made a weapon. Because they fear us."

Tears streamed down Hally's face, her hearts aching with the weight of his words.

"I have to find Melody."

"No, you don't?!" Hally yelled back at him. "How can you be so fucking stupid? Melody is FINE. She's always been FINE."

"Hally, don't you dare…" River's voice was laced with warning and anger. "Not like this."

The Doctor frowned at his daughter. "What are you talking about? They took her! They took her to stop me!"

"She's right there!" Hally screamed, pointing towards River.

Silence fell over the room.

"She's right there." She didn't dare look back at River, Amy, or Rory.

"What…?" Amy's voice was small, lost and confused. The Doctor looked from his daughter to River and back, struggling to understand.

"She's your daughter." Hally snapped, her voice cold and accusatory. "She's always been your daughter. She lied. In 1969. She lied. What other reason would she have for not coming to help?" She spat the words out.

"But…"

"Oh, come on." Hally turned to Rory. "What did she say? To you. Idris. Back in the TARDIS? About the forest, what did she say?"

"Hally. Stop being cruel." River's voice was a harsh reprimand.

Rory's voice trembled. "She said… the only water in the forest… is the River? I don't… I don't understand."

"Melody Pond." Hally pulled the prayer leaf from the cot, sending it floating towards Amy and Rory. "It doesn't have an exact translation in the language of the Gamma-Forest. So it translates to River Song." She turned back to The Doctor, her expression dark and resolute. "She's fine. You don't need to find her. I need you. I need you…" Her voice cracked with emotion.

But The Doctor's focus was on River, Amy, and Rory. He looked to River for confirmation. River met his gaze first, then turned to her parents. She offered a small, apologetic smile and moved closer to Amy. "It's going to be alright, Amy. Your daughter… she's going to be alright."

"River…?" Amy's voice was filled with desperation.

River pulled Amy into a comforting hug as Amy broke down in tears.

Hally tensed her jaw and looked away from them, focusing instead on The Doctor. He stared back at her, his expression a mix of anger and something like disgust. He took a step back and repeated his earlier instruction, his voice louder and more authoritative this time. "River. Take them home."

"Doctor… Doctor, wait… no… Dad!" Hally grabbed him by the arm, forcing him to turn back to her. Her voice was barely a whisper, choked with tears and fear. "Don't… please don't. You promised…" Her voice broke with desperation. "I have to stay on the TARDIS. I'm safe on the TARDIS. Please… for my daughter, please… I'm sorry… I am… I'm sorry. I won't… be like that anymore. I'll stop. Whatever you want. Take away the power. Whatever. Don't leave me… please."

The Doctor's face broke momentarily, pain flashing across his features. She could see his pain, she could see how much it hurt him as he pressed her hand away, forcing the pain down, replacing it with something cold.

"You can do this on your own, Hally. You just don't want to." Cold indifference looked back at her, the expression so foreign on his face. "I don't owe you anything. I never have."

The box flickered, the memories spinning like old film reels on a projector, too fast to catch every detail but lingering just long enough. The flickering shifted, like the box itself was growing impatient, as if it couldn't settle on any one moment long enough to be satisfied.

It lingered longest on the image of herself, giving birth—her breath ragged, the emptiness of what came before. The loneliness that had defined it. The pain of childbirth, the grief of it gnawed at her insides. It was there, fleeting, and then it moved on again.

And then it was back to Gallifrey. The flicker of The Master. Leaving. Leaving him. Both times. The box kept flicking through, refusing to settle, always moving, restless.

A moment came. The day The Doctor had revealed her pregnancy. The moment of shock and joy, mixed with the realisation of what would come next. The box didn't stop there, though; it just flicked on, didn't dwell, didn't offer time to breathe.

Grief followed, an old companion. It wasn't overwhelming, not anymore. She had worked through it. The box didn't understand, though. It flicked through, impatient, moving on, as if searching for the thing that would finally satisfy its hunger.

Then, there was Missy. She hummed softly beside Hally, the sound warm and almost comforting, but the touch of her presence always had an edge to it. "Well… I think we can sincerely blame Alina for this…" Missy's voice broke through the flickering memories like an intruder, her words spinning through the air with a half-hearted sense of amusement.

The box was still flicking through memories, impatience thick in the air. It skipped over many. Never quite finding the right one to settle on.

Missy.

The Doctor.

Osgood.

Lily.

The child who had changed everything for them. But even that memory was shallow, distant, not the sharp pang it once had been. Grief, yes, but not the consuming kind.

There was a pressure at her temple.

She felt the subtle shift, the way her thoughts stuttered, and then the cool, familiar touch of Missy's hand gently pressing against her skin. The scene shifted again, the world around her warping as the memories scattered like stars in the night sky. Hally's breath caught in her chest as the past flickered and bent to Missy's will.

She couldn't hold onto any of it now. Not the memories, not the pain, not even the fragments of joy that slipped through her fingers like sand.

Her gaze lingered.

The noise.

How could she have forgotten?

That pain.

She could hear it in his voice. The sound, that sound. It took every effort for her to not retch.

Bringing her thoughts back into the room, the white cocoon, shielded from the pain of next door, she manoeuvred herself closer to the side of the bed, dragging a chair along behind her, ignoring the screech along the floor until she plopped down onto it.

"Daddy's being loud." A soft smile played on her lips as her eyes fixated on the exposed expanse of her wife's abdomen. The fondness in her tone soothing over the racket seeping into the room. Leaning forward, she rested her chin on her crossed arms, her gaze tracing the contours of Hally's form. "Mummy's being good for once." She mused, amusement dancing in the bright blue of her eyes. She shifted forward, her forehead connecting with the soft skin of Hally's stomach, a tilt in her neck, keeping her eyes on her face. A fond expression melted across her sharp features, a tickle of light amusement at her slumber. Always so relaxed. Oblivious to the pain…

Her attention drifted back down to her pelvis as she lifted her head back up. "Just remember that D-… hmm." She paused, chewing on her words. "Well… I'm not Daddy… he's the one screaming…" Her voice trailed away as she considered, before a slow smile spread across her face. "How about…Mamaidh." She whispered into the air. "Mamaidh's here… right from the start. Right here." She cooed with serene certainty. With a slow exhale, her attention drifted as she watched her wife's face. "I've been busy…" She confessed. "You're probably not going to like it. You never do." Her lips curved into a pout as she whined. She turned back to her exposed skin, as if talking between two close friends. "She'll be angry at me. But then, when is she not?" Her laugh rang out across the room, a whimsical giggle, before her face fell sharply into an expression of sad contemplation. "…I would like nothing more… than to play happy families with you. But we can't. Not yet." Her eyes flicked upwards to glare into the unassuming white wall. Finally, there was silence.

The screaming had stopped.

"It's all out of order."

"It's not fair, you know… I've definitely ended up with the short end of the stick."

Her mouth had curled upwards with a silent snarl, her scowl fixed to the wall as she rose swiftly to her feet.

She paced at the end of her bed. "I wish you could remember this." Anger sizzled hotly underneath.

That noise.

Always the same noise.

"Remember that I was here." She spat.

Banging and screaming.

"He wasn't."

Shouting.

"He never is."

Begging.

"The Doctor."

Pain.

She could remember that pain.

"Remember where he left you."

"Where is he, hmm? When you need him. Never here."

"Never, ever here!"

"He'll see."

"I'll make him see."

The noise shifted, a sudden change in the air, from her to him. Him. She was in his room. She could it, from his perspective. His voice erupted, raw and agonised, a scream that cut through her. It echoed around her, reverberating in her bones, and for a moment, Hally's breath caught in her throat. She could feel it—his pain—sharp and relentless. It's not just a sound, it's a presence, suffocating, consuming, something she can't escape from.

She can't stop it. She wanted to, desperately. But there's nothing she can do but watch as he writhed, as his body shaking with agony. She tried to step forward, to break through, to do something—anything—to end the horror in front of her, but there's an invisible wall. She can't touch it, can't change it. She's helpless.

He's in so much pain.

The scene flicks then, just a momentary flicker in the swirling chaos. It shifted to his point of view. She saw—through his eyes. Leaving him. On Gallifrey. He watched her turn away, felt the weight of her departure like a knife to his chest. The world around them fractured as she collapses everything, every possibility, every connection, in an effort to force him to run. He is trapped, helpless, as she separates them. She pushes him, one last time, and then she's gone. She's not there anymore.

He's so alone.

And then it's Gallifrey—cold, distant, and unforgiving. Rassilon. The man who embodies everything broken, everything twisted in this universe. The pain—sharp, endless. The capture. The waiting. Years of it. Years of nothing but waiting for the next round of torture to begin. Rassilon's cruelty, relentless and unforgiving, like time itself had turned against him.

Leaving without her.

The thought stabs at him like a blade. The betrayal, the heartbreak of it, and still—no escape. Only pain.

And then, it shifts again. The first time she looks at him. At her. At Missy. That gaze—cold, full of rage, sharp with something deeper than just fury. She is angry. And there's pain in her eyes too. Pain that matches her own. She'd slapped her. And it hurt. Hurt.

She's angry. She's furious.

They stumble back, back into that room, the cold walls closing in around them. The room that has seen too much. Too much pain.

And Hally, in the back of her mind, feels every ounce of that destruction. Every fragment of the anger and pain, each piece of that agony of his that she's been shielded from. She's right back in that room again, where nothing makes sense and everything hurts.

The hum of amusement vibrated in her throat. "Always so angry… you're turning into me." Her eyes remained trained on her face as her tongue slowly ran across her teeth. "It's… good… to see you." The words seemed to have to be forced from her mouth, not wanting to let go of them as she lent her head back. "Always sleeping." She whined. "Passing by. That seems to be our problem. These days." Her head tilted back down, eyes falling on Hally's abdomen. "All out of order."

Images flashed through her mind. The knowledge of what was to come. Looking back up at her face, a tired exhale fell from her. "I'm sorry. You'll be alright…" She offered to her wife's unconscious form, her tone not wholly convincing.

Darkness slithered onto her expression, her features shifting into something more determined. "But I am here." The look she gave her wife could have been confused with a glare. "Just remember that. I am." At the sharp yell of agony from the other room she growled lowly at the interruption. She rose to her feet. "Ignore him. He'll be fine."

"Fine…" The word hung in the air.

Busying herself unnecessarily, she checked on her IV drips. More than enough to keep her out.

Perfect.

"My beautiful wife…" The words left her lips, a barely audible whisper as she brushed a wayward hair away from her face, her thumb caressing across her high cheekbone.

"I've been so bored without you…" She continued, her voice, a little louder but only reserved to be heard by the sleeping woman in front of her. "Had to keep myself entertained. You know how well that goes." A lazy chuckle hummed in her chest. "I know you won't like it… Eventually anyway… In a while." Her face scrunched into a petulant pout. "Timelines Schmimelines."

With that, she leant down, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

She felt it, deep inside her—a tidal wave of pain, guilt, and grief, all of it crashing over her like a relentless storm. It's too much. It drowned her. She can't breathe, can't focus through the agony that wraps around her hearts, tightening like a vice.

Pain.

It's all she can feel, all she can see. It wrapped around her, pulls her in, a constant ache that refuses to let go.

Guilt.

Because they've been so close, so many times. She should've been there. She should've stopped it, should've been stronger, faster, something more. She should have known. She should have done something.

Grief.

It's a heavy thing, this grief. It pressed down on her chest, leaving her gasping for air, drowning.

Something inside her broke.

A crack, deep in her soul, something that had been holding her together shattered. She felt the pieces fall away, the final fracture pulling her apart. And then, there were arms—strong arms, holding her, pulling her close. It's not enough to save her. It can't be. The pain sliced through her like glass, sharp and unforgiving. She flinched, pain sliced through the palm of her hand. It's like a pulse, the pain. Constant, relentless.

And then—the world shifted back.

She was crying. The tears came, unbidden, hot and fast, as the pain continued to eat away at her from the inside out. She's not sure where she is, only that the ache in her chest won't stop, that it followed her. Arms held her tighter now, pulling her back from the edge. But it doesn't ease. It doesn't make the pain go away.

She pulled her hand back, instinctively, away from whatever has caused it. The pain intensifies, sharper now, like it's been embedded under her skin, deep and never-ending.

Around them... it shook.

The ground beneath them trembled, the very air vibrating with an unseen force. The box clicked, its surface smooth once again, but it was cold. Cold and empty. Yet the world around them continued to shake, to tremble.

Hart stepped forward, his gaze fixed on the cavern around them. The rumbling of the Earth had barely subsided. He glanced down at Kate, whose attention was absorbed by the readings on her device. "Did it work?"

Kate didn't respond immediately. She furrowed her brow, eyes scanning over the data, as if double-checking. "Yes?"

"Ok…" Hart muttered under his breath. "So why is the Earth still shaking?"

Alina's eyes drifted back to the Time Lords. Hally on the floor, her body trembling, skin faintly glowing with a light that seemed to come from deep within her. Missy was holding her tightly, cradling her like she might disappear if she let go. She was whispering desperately into Hally's ear, her words incomprehensible but urgent.

Hally was unresponsive. Her eyes had rolled back, the whites clearly visible, and her body shook with an intensity that made Alina's stomach twist. The cavern was becoming increasingly unstable, but Alina's focus remained solely on the two of them.

"It's not the box," Martha said, her voice clear and firm.

Kate took a step forward, her heels clicking on the wet stone beneath her. "Hart."

Without a word, Hart stepped forward, pulling something from his pocket. A collar-like device. Alina raised her hand to stop him, her voice calm but authoritative.

"Wait."

She dropped to her knees beside Hally, her state…catatonic. Missy had her in her arms, her hands held her desperately.

The Earth continued to shake, the ceiling cracking above them. Water began to trickle in, slowly at first, but soon it was gushing in from cracks in the stone. Alina could feel the wetness seeping into her clothes.

She checked Hally's eyes, her pupils completely gone, rolled up into the back of her head.

"It's not letting her go," Missy grunted, her voice hoarse with frustration. She reached down, gently tapping Hally's face, but there was no response. "It's hungry. It wants more. It's not letting her go."

Jack's voice cracked through the air. "What do you mean? We gave it what it wanted?!"

"I never said it was a good box!" Missy snapped back, the sarcasm tinged with a hint of fear.

Alina didn't have time. She reached for Missy's hand and pressed it against Hally's chest. "Breathe slowly. Breathe with her." Her own hand hovered over Hally's, she pressed hard on each of her fingertips.

"Hally," Alina's voice broke through the noise of the cavern, forcing its way into the space between them. She leaned closer, her voice rising to be heard above the rising flood. "Hally. Listen to me. I need you to remember where you are. I need you to breathe."

She kept pressing, focusing on the small movements of Hally's hands beneath her fingers, on the subtle changes in her breathing. She needed to bring her back, ground her in the moment.

"Remember where you are. The arms around you. The hand on your chest. Feel it. Hally, can you feel me?" Alina pressed harder, her nails digging into Hally's fingers, one by one.

The faint glow that had surrounded Hally's skin began to dim. Alina's heart raced as she saw Hally's eyes twitch, her breath coming in shallow, jagged gasps.

"Can you feel her breathe? Breathe with it," Alina urged, her voice softening but remaining firm. She pressed her fingers against Hally's, pushing harder, as if she could force the connection to break through. "Hally, where are you? Tell me where you are."

Hally's mouth opened and closed, her breathing shallow, strained. Then, after what seemed like an eternity, the words came out, faint but clear. "Here…"

Alina's heart skipped a beat. "Where is here? Hally, name it. Tell me where you are."

Hally's voice was shaky, but it was there. "Here… Earth… London… home…" Her breath hitched, and her eyes fluttered open slightly, trying to focus.

Alina didn't stop. She pressed harder, her nail digging into the soft flesh of Hally's palm. "Can you feel me?" she asked, her voice catching. "Can you feel her?"

"Yes… Yes…" Hally managed, her voice stronger now, the fog of the box lifting from her slowly. She took a deep breath, her eyes flickering back into awareness. "Ow…" She winced, pulling her hand away from Alina's persistent pressure.

Hally shook her head, blinking rapidly as the haze lifted. She pushed herself up, the ground was wet beneath her, the water rising around them. The ceiling above them had fractured, and water poured in relentlessly.

Missy was behind her, her arms still around her, steady and reassuring. Hally leaned into her, struggling to sit up, still trying to grasp what was happening. Her eyes scanned the cavern. Water. The ceiling leaking. They were going to drown if they didn't move.

"We need to move. Can we move her?" Kate called out.

"I'm fine…" Hally huffed, pushing herself upright with a groan. Her legs were shaking, but she shifted, sitting up straighter.

The others were beginning to realise Hally was with them again, her eyes sharpening, her movements becoming more deliberate.

"Ok, Princess, time to get up," Hart said, his voice much softer now, a hint of relief mixed with urgency.

Missy shifted behind Hally, her hands steady as she helped her up. Hally staggered, her legs threatening to give way beneath her, but she held onto Missy for support.

"Out. Now!" Kate's voice rang out, filled with authority.

They moved quickly, the sound of rushing water drowning out everything else. The box, now discarded and slowly being buried under the water.

Hally tripped over her own feet but straightened, following the others from the cavern.

They were wet. They were all wet.

Her hand found Missy's wrist and she pulled her back.

Water cascaded down the walls around them.

Her mouth found hers.

Desperate and hot.

Her mouth found hers.