Chapter Seventeen: Fear Her


[TARDIS Library]

'Mean flower wakes up,' the TARDIS whispers into the Time Lady's mind. She responds with a warm smile, 'Thank you, Bluette!'

With that, the Alchemist steps out of the library, heading toward the first kitchen to prepare breakfast for the trio.

[TARDIS First Kitchen]

The Alchemist is busy pulling out ingredients when Rose walks in.

"Good morning, Rose!" the Alchemist calls out, pulling a flour container from one of the sleek black cabinets.

Dressed in her usual outfit, the Time Lady wears a ruffled green apron adorned with butterfly prints over it.

Rose giggles at the sight and says, "Morning, Ally. What are you up to?"

"Just making us all some breakfast. I've already started the coffee for you," she replies with a grin.

Nodding sleepily, Rose moves to fill the waiting mug, the rich aroma lifting her spirits.

"What're we having, then?" she asks between sips.

"Banana chocolate chip pancakes. Does that sound alright?" the Alchemist asks, her smile soft but teasing.

"That sounds wonderful, yeah," Rose replies, stepping over to help prep the mix at the large island.

She pauses occasionally to take a sip of coffee as the two fall into a comfortable rhythm.

The Alchemist hums a gentle melody, a song composed by the TARDIS, as they work together.

After a moment, she looks over and asks, "Would you like to help me bake some cupcakes after breakfast? The Doctor's been going on about edible ball bearings all week. I thought maybe we could finally get him to stop by giving him a treat."

Rose huffs out a laugh as she turns on the stovetop, "Yeah, sounds good to me. Can we do vanilla this time, though? Also, any idea where we're off to today?"

Leaning back against the island, the Alchemist rolls her eyes and replies, "Vanilla works for me. I think we're all tired of banana cupcakes. It's why I added chocolate chips to the pancakes—I needed something different. As for where we're headed, I'll let the Doctor tell you. He's been buzzing with excitement all morning."

"No kidding. The man's obsessed," Rose mutters, watching the Alchemist expertly flip pancakes in the air.

"It's a Time Lord thing, actually," the Alchemist begins to explain, still flipping pancakes with playful precision; each lands perfectly on the rectangular pan, "Our bodies crave potassium and specific minerals because our neurons fire so much faster than other species'. Back on Gallifrey, our fruit and vegetables were loaded with them—far more than bananas, but anything close tends to hit the spot. I've always needed a strong supplement; most Elites did."

Rose nods, amused by both the explanation and the Alchemist's flawless flipping skills, "Makes sense. Still, I'm done with banana cupcakes."

The Alchemist chuckles, calling out telepathically to the Doctor, 'Breakfast. First kitchen.'

The response is instant, 'Coming, coming!'

"I prefer potatoes when it comes to Earth veg," the Alchemist says with a huff, flipping another pancake, "Far more adaptable when it comes to taste."

Rose grins, "Can't go wrong with chips… unless they're fried in that weird brain oil."

"You have no idea how awful that oil smelled," the Alchemist mutters, flipping the final pancake into a series of six spins before it lands perfectly atop the stack. "I still can't believe you ate them."

Rose laughs, wide-eyed, "I think you deserve gold for pancake flipping, Ally. And yeah, they didn't taste bad, but I definitely regret it."

The Alchemist smirks knowingly, lifting the platter of pancakes and setting them on the island next to the neatly arranged place settings Rose had prepared.

"Maybe I can convince the Olympic Committee to add pancake flipping as a sport. I wouldn't mind bringing home a medal."

Before Rose can reply, the Doctor sprints into the room, shouting, "I smell banana!"

He hops onto a stool and starts piling pancakes onto his plate.

Rose and the Alchemist exchange a glance before bursting into laughter.

"What? What?" the Doctor asks, looking between them. "What's so funny? Did I miss something?"

They both shake their heads, still chuckling and sit down to fill their plates. Neither offers an explanation, leaving the Doctor in playful confusion as breakfast begins.

[Open Ground]

The TARDIS materializes in a snug gap between two dumpsters, wedged perfectly but with its doors facing the wrong way.

The Doctor stares at the obstacle and winces, "Ah."

"Did you break her positional shifter again, Doctor?" the Alchemist asks as she walks to the console, arms crossed and eyebrow raised.

He grimaces, avoiding her gaze, "Maybe."

"Stop using the hammer," she orders with a sigh, stepping up to manually adjust the TARDIS's position by 180 degrees.

Rose, leaning casually by the console, bites back a laugh as the room jolts slightly.

The Doctor peeks out through the now-clear doorway.

"Ah!" he exclaims again, pushing the door wider.

Rose and the Alchemist follow him out, stepping onto the grimy, litter-strewn ground.

The Time Lady immediately scrunches her nose at the foul stench, pinching it shut as she rummages in her pocket for air-filtering plugs.

"Lovely," she mutters, muffled by her hand.

Rose, meanwhile, stops to inspect a poster plastered onto one of the dumpsters, boldly advertising the top hits of Shane Ward.

"So… near future, yeah?" she asks, glancing at the Doctor.

The Doctor nods, adjusting his coat with a cheerful grin, "I had a passing fancy," He pauses, then adds with mock seriousness, "Only it didn't pass. It stopped."

[Dame Kelly Holmes Close]

"Thirtieth Olympiad," the Doctor declares with enthusiasm.

"No way!" Rose exclaims, staring up at the banner strung across the street, "Why didn't I think of this? That's great. Ally can go for pancake flipping!"

"If only, Rose," the Alchemist replies, laughing softly.

The Doctor launches into a ramble as they begin walking, "Only seems like yesterday a few naked Greek blokes were tossing a discus about, wrestling each other in the sand with crowds stood around baying," he pauses, "No, wait a minute, that was Club Med."

Rose and the Alchemist exchange unimpressed glances.

He continues, undeterred. "Just in time for the opening doodah ceremony tonight. Thought you'd like that. Last one they had in London was dynamite. Wembley, 1948. I loved it so much we went back and watched it all over again. Fella carrying the Torch. Lovely chap, what was his...?"

The women spot a middle-aged man—Tommy's dad—tacking Missing posters onto lampposts. The Alchemist nods toward him, and Rose veers off to follow.

The Doctor ambles on in another direction, still musing. " ...Mark? John? Mark? Legs like pipe cleaners, but strong as a whippet."

"John Mark, love. Both names," the Alchemist calls out from the lamppost beside Rose.

"Ah, right, John Mark. Lovely chap," he replies absentmindedly, still strolling.

"Doctor," the women say in unison, exchanging amused, exasperated looks when he doesn't respond.

"...And in those days, everybody had a tea party to go to."

"Doctor!" Rose shouts, still not getting his attention.

Oblivious to their frustration, he asks, "Did you ever have one of those little cakes with the crunchy ball bearings on top?"

"Yes, now, you should really look at this, love," the Alchemist calls out.

He turns back, making his way over.

"...Do you know those things, Rose? Nobody else in this entire galaxy's ever even bothered to make edible ball bearings. Genius."

The Doctor wraps an arm around the Alchemist's waist as he stands beside Rose, scanning the Missing posters. The name on the new one reads Dale Hicks .

"What's taking them, do you think?" he murmurs, "Snatching children from a thoroughly ordinary street like this. Why's it so cold? Is someone reducing the temperature?"

"It's cold?" the Alchemist asks innocently.

The Doctor throws her a concerned look, but she just winks, earning a huff of annoyance.

Rose frowns at the poster, "It says they all went missing this week. Why would a person do something like this?"

"What makes you think it's a person?" the Time Lords reply in tandem.

The Alchemist takes a deep sniff of the air before coughing heavily and pinching her nose shut, "Ugh, that's awful."

"What's awful?" the Doctor asks, and she taps her nose three times.

They watch as a woman hurriedly puts out her rubbish, glancing around nervously before retreating indoors. Beyond the trio and the council roadworkers, the street feels eerily empty.

"Whatever it is, it's got the whole street scared to death. Doctor, what…" Rose begins, only to roll her eyes as the Doctor sprints ahead.

He stops at the front lawn of a house, holding his hand over the grass and wiggling his fingers with a wide grin.

Just then, a man in a Mini drives into the road, only for the car to sputter and stall. One of the roadworkers approaches to help as Rose and the Alchemist trail behind, leaving the Doctor to his investigation.

"There you go," Kel says to the driver, "Fifth today. Not natural, is it?"

The driver gets out, frowning at the car, "I don't know what happened. I had it serviced less than a month ago."

Kel waves him off, "Nah, don't even try and explain it, mate. All the cars are doing it. And do you know what? It's bonkers. Bonkers. Come on then, pal. I'll help you shift it. Quicker you're on your way, happier you'll be."

The driver shuts the hood, jumping back in the car to put it on neutral.

"There we go," Kel grunts as they begin to heave the Mini down the street.

"Do you want a hand?" the Alchemist asks, her voice calm and measured.

"No, we're all right, love," Kel grunts, visibly struggling to push the car.

"You're not." Rose folds her arms, smirking, "She's tougher than she looks, honest. And for the record, so am I."

The Alchemist steps in without a word, placing one hand on the car. With a single, fluid motion, she gives it a shove, and the engine sputters to life. Kel stumbles back, landing flat on the ground as the driver climbs back into the vehicle.

"You weren't kiddin' about tough, huh!?" Kel exclaims, staring at the Alchemist in disbelief.

She shrugs nonchalantly, brushing her hands off before striding over to the Doctor, who is crouched nearby, entirely focused on the grass.

"Does this happen a lot?" Rose asks, watching the redhead walk away.

The driver leans out his window, shouting, "Cheers, mate!" before driving off down the street.

Kel waves after him and sighs, "Been doing it all week."

"Since those children started going missing?" Rose asks, her tone turning sharp with curiosity.

Kel shrugs, scratching the back of his neck, "Yeah, I s'pose so."

The Alchemist, now walking on the grass, freezes mid-step. She frowns, lifting her foot and placing it back down repeatedly before retreating to the road. Shaking her head, she sniffles slightly and gags, the scent making it through her filters. Ionic residue, she realizes—thick and lingering. There's far too much of it if even her hand preceptors are picking it up with them off.

Unbothered, the Doctor remains crouched, wiggling his fingers over the grass.

A grin spreads across his face, "Ooh, tickles!" he says gleefully.

Tommy's dad strides over, his voice gruff, "What's your game?"

"My, er... Snakes and Ladders? Quite good at squash. Reasonable," the Doctor replies, his words tripping over themselves; he winces, "I'm being facetious, aren't I? There's no call for it."

"There really isn't, Doctor," the Alchemist chimes in, pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation.

The Doctor throws her a cheeky grin before turning back to Tommy's dad.

"Every car cuts out. The council's going nuts," Kel explains, gesturing down the street, "They've given this place the works. Renamed it, even. I've been tarmacking every pothole," he points to the filled hole, "Look at that—beauty, innit? Yeah! All because the Olympic Torch comes right by the end of this Close," he nods to the new sign, "Just down there. Everything's got to be perfect, ain't it? Only it ain't."

A woman, Maeve, steps forward, her voice soft but urgent, "It takes them when they're playing."

The Alchemist tilts her head, her focus snapping to Maeve.

"What takes them?" Rose asks, narrowing her eyes.

Maeve shakes her head, her voice trembling, "Danny, Jane, Dale. Snatched in the blink of an eye."

Meanwhile, Tommy's dad has cornered the Doctor, forcing him to backpedal onto the road toward the Alchemist.

"I'm, I'm a police officer! That's what I am..." the Doctor flounders, holding his hands up, "I've got a badge and a police car. You don't have to get—just hold on!"

Tommy's dad scoffs, unimpressed, "We've had plenty of coppers poking around here, and you don't look or sound like any of them."

The Doctor points hastily at the Alchemist and Rose, who is just approaching, "See, look! Colleagues. Lewis and..."

"Detective Ally Smith, sir," the Alchemist cuts in smoothly, holding up her psychic paper with a practiced air.

No way in hell is she letting him name her after that pair today—that'd be worse than anything she'd come up with.

'You were going to call me Clark, weren't you?' the Time Lady accuses.

The Doctor scoffs back silently, 'It's not that bad.'

Tommy's dad narrows his eyes at Rose, "Well, she looks less like a copper than you two do."

"Training," the Doctor replies quickly, pointing at Rose with a flourish, "New recruit. It was either that or hairdressing, so... voilà!"

He finally whips out his psychic paper, holding it up for Tommy's dad to scrutinize. The man squints at it, still skeptical but less vocal.

"We're undercover," the Alchemist interjects dryly, her tone laced with mild impatience.

This explanation seems to settle him a bit, and he nods begrudgingly. It makes more sense to him now.

A woman, Trish, approaches from her doorstep, worry etched across her face. "What are you going to do?"

Maeve pipes up, her voice weary but firm, "The police have knocked on every door. No clues, no leads, nothing."

Tommy's dad scoffs dismissively, "Look, kids run off sometimes, alright? That's what they do."

Maeve shakes her head fiercely, "Saw it with me own eyes. Dale Hicks, in your garden, playing with your Tommy, and then—pfft!—right in front of me. Like he was never there," she looks around at the neighbors, her gaze unwavering, "There's no need to look further than this street. It's right here amongst us."

The Doctor raises a hand to interrupt the growing tension. "Why don't we…"

He's cut off by an accusatory voice from the crowd, "Why don't we start with him?" a woman points at Kel, her tone sharp, "There's been all sorts like him in this street, day and night."

Kel throws his arms up defensively, "Fixing things up for the Olympics!"

"Yeah, and taking an awful long time about it," Tommy's dad snaps.

The Doctor tries again, stepping forward, "I'm of the opinion that all we've got to do is just…"

Kel interrupts, his voice rising, "You don't… What you just said, that's slander!"

The group erupts into chaos, voices overlapping as accusations fly.

"I don't care what it is!" the woman shouts.

"I think we need to just…" the Doctor starts, only to be drowned out again.

"I want an apology off her!" Kel demands, glaring at the woman.

"Stop picking on him!" Maeve yells, stepping to his defense.

Kel nods emphatically, "Yeah, stop picking on me."

Maeve suddenly rounds on the woman, "And stop pretending to be blind! It's evil!"

The woman scoffs, crossing her arms, "I don't believe in evil."

The Alchemist, who has been quietly observing, telepathically reaches out, 'Let's do the thing.'

Kel rolls his eyes, "Oh no. You just believe in tarmackers with sackloads of kidnapped kiddies in their van."

Tommy's dad snaps at him, "Here, here, here—that's not what she's saying."

The Doctor glances at the Alchemist, raising a brow, 'The thing we did with the kids?'

She shrugs, 'Exactly. The thing.'

The two Time Lords step forward in unison, raising their hands dramatically.

"Fingers on lips!" they command.

The crowd freezes, stunned into silence. One by one, everyone places a finger to their lips—except Rose, who stares in disbelief. The Time Lords glare at her, and she reluctantly raises her finger, albeit slowly.

The Doctor drops his hand, "In the last six days, three of your children have been stolen. Snatched out of thin air, right?"

Maeve hesitates, then whispers, gesturing to her finger, "Er, can I?"

The Time Lords nod in unison, giving her permission to speak.

She lowers her hand and looks around, her voice soft but filled with conviction, "Look around you. This was a safe street—'til it came. It's not a person. I'll say it if no one else will. Maybe you're coppers, maybe you're not. I don't care who you are. Can you please help us?"

The Alchemist feels a prickle on the back of her neck as if someone is watching her. She turns her head subtly and spots a young girl staring out from a nearby window. Their eyes meet, and the girl doesn't flinch, her gaze steady and unnerving.

Before the Alchemist can react, Trish notices the direction of her glance. Flustered, Trish quickly retreats inside, shutting the door firmly behind her.

The Time Lady watches her go, suspicion flickering in her mind.

Later, the Doctor is back at Tommy's house, pacing the garden with his nose high in the air, sniffing dramatically like a hound on the trail. He keeps muttering nonsensical sounds under his breath, ignoring the Alchemist entirely. She's been trying to get a word in for the past five minutes.

Rose approaches, watching him curiously, "Want a hanky?"

He waves her off impatiently, "Can you smell it?"

The Alchemist starts to answer, but the Doctor spins around and clamps his hand over her mouth mid-sentence.

"Not you, Ally," he says pointedly, his other hand gesturing toward Rose, "Rose, what does it remind you of?"

Rose raises her eyebrows, cautiously sniffing the air. Meanwhile, the Doctor absentmindedly wipes the saliva from his hand onto the Alchemist's dress, earning him an exaggerated eye-roll from her.

"Sort of... metal?" Rose says hesitantly.

The Doctor beams, "Mmm hmm."

"It's ionic residue. Teleport!" the Alchemist blurts out quickly, grinning at the Doctor in triumph.

The Doctor huffs in irritation and pokes her in the side, muttering something about ruining the process.

Rose tilts her head, "Oh. How come you don't smell of metal?"

The Alchemist chuckles, brushing off the question with a flick of her hand, "Because I smell of better things than that," she smirks, "Besides, I go through the Vortex. It's very different."

"Rose, you don't even feel it," the Doctor says with a grin, but then he freezes, realizing what he's just said, "Too bad you can't go through," he adds quickly.

"Why not?" she asks, folding her arms and glaring at him.

The Alchemist steps in, turning to face Rose as she walks backward down the street with her hands clasped behind her.

"I can only safely teleport those with some amount of Vortex energy," she explains, her voice patient but teasing, "Meaning Time Lords."

Her words linger in the air, leaving Rose frowning thoughtfully as the Alchemist spins on her heel and continues walking ahead, a knowing smile playing on her lips.

[Back Alley]

The trio weaves through the narrow alley between two back gardens, scanning their surroundings with heightened caution.

"Danny Edwards cycled in one end but never came out the other," the Alchemist recalls, her voice tinged with unease as she shakes her hands out repeatedly.

Rose watches the gesture for a moment before asking, "Why do you keep doing that?"

The Alchemist sighs in frustration, "It's the damn residue. It's making my skin go nuts, and I don't even have my hand preceptors on. Must be a nervous system issue with the residue being this strong. I can't get an accurate reading, so we've got to rely on the Doctor's senses."

Rose nods along; for once, it's an explanation she can actually follow.

The Doctor abruptly stops mid-step, "Whoa, there it goes again! Look at the hairs on the back of my manly hairy hand ."

The Alchemist eyes his hand with mock seriousness before poking one of the hairs. A tiny zap jolts her finger, and she pulls her hand back with a yelp, shaking it out yet again.

"You zapped me!" she complains, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Well, then don't touch!" he snaps, raising his chin smugly.

She crosses her arms, pouting, "What if I want to hold your manly hairy hand, hm? Are you just going to zap me repeatedly?"

He opens his mouth to reply, but before he can, Rose interrupts with a stern, "Fingers on lips!"

She lifts her finger to her mouth, mimicking their earlier gesture with exaggerated flair.

Both Time Lords turn to look at her, unimpressed, before rolling their eyes in unison.

"It doesn't work on us," the Doctor informs her flatly.

The Alchemist nods, grinning, "We're immune."

Rose drops her finger with a shrug, "It worked well enough. Anyway, that smell is back—the burnt fuse plug or whatever it is."

The Doctor sniffs the air, "There's residual energy in the spots where the kids vanished," he explains, scanning the ground intently.

"Which means," the Alchemist adds, her tone grave, "Whatever this is has an awful lot of power."

[Dame Kelly Holmes Close]

"Aren't you a beautiful boy!" Rose exclaims, crouching down to pet a cat.

The Doctor beams, his grin full of mischief, "Thanks! I'm experimenting with backcombing."

"She meant the cat," the Alchemist interjects dryly, barely glancing at him.

"Oh," he frowns, his enthusiasm deflating.

The Time Lady smirks, unable to resist, "But you're my beautiful boy, yes you are!" she tickles his chin playfully, and he laughs despite himself before shooting a quick glare at the cat, now the center of attention again.

Rose strokes the cat's fur as it purrs loudly.

"I used to have one like you," she murmurs, fondly lost in the moment.

"And what's your name, kitty?" the Alchemist asks, crouching down to address the feline directly.

The cat meows in response, and the Time Lady nods knowingly.

Rose looks up to see the Doctor frowning, "What?"

He winces, "No, I'm not really a cat person. Once you've been threatened by one in a nun's wimple, it kind of takes the joy out of it."

"Seriously? You have how many cat brooches and cufflinks in the TARDIS, and now you're not a fan of cats?" the Alchemist scoffs, hands on her hips.

"Nun's wimple and one almost ate us," he defends weakly.

She shakes her head in disbelief, "Nuh-uh. Cats are intelligent. They're not even from Earth, remember?"

"Oh, right," he blinks, turning to the cat with sudden curiosity.

"Did you even bother to ask his name?" the Alchemist asks pointedly.

He grimaces, clearly caught out.

"Rude," she says, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, what is it?" the Doctor asks, sounding mildly defensive.

She shrugs theatrically, "Beelzebub Thunder-Scratcher the Third."

Rose ignores their bizarre conversation and follows the cat through some bushes, where it hops into a cardboard box.

"Come here, puss," she calls softly, "What do you want to go in there for?"

The Alchemist turns at the sound of a loud "meow" from farther down the street. She looks back to see Rose staring into the now-empty box.

"Phew!" Rose exclaims, standing up and brushing her hands off.

The Doctor sniffs the air and waves a hand dramatically in front of his face, "Whoa! Hoo, hoo, hoo, hoo," he exclaims. "Ion residue. Blimey! That takes some doing—snatching a living organism right out of space-time. This baby is just like..." he drops his voice to an awed tone, "I'm having some of that! I'm impressed."

"It smells awful," the Alchemist mutters, stepping back to escape the scent.

Rose glances between them, trying to make sense of it, "So the cat's been transported?"

"It can harness huge reserves of ionic power," the Time Lady explains. "We need to find the source of that power... the old-fashioned way."

The Doctor nods enthusiastically, "Find the source, and you'll find whatever's been stealing children and fluffy animals," he gestures between his eyes and Rose's, "See what you can see. Keep them peeled, Lewis."

[Garages]

Rose hears a faint thumping sound coming from one of the many garages lining the street, nestled between the towering three-story houses.

Unnoticed, the Alchemist spins toward the noise, her sharp eyes narrowing as her head tilts slightly. Concern flashes across her face as she watches Rose cautiously approach the sound.

"Is that you, puss cat? Are you trapped?" Rose asks softly, her voice tinged with apprehension.

The noises grow louder, more frantic. The Alchemist, sensing danger, strides purposefully toward Rose from the front lawn she was searching.

Rose halts in front of the garage door, muttering to herself in a panicked whisper, "Not going to open it, not going to open it, not going to open it."

Her hands betray her nerves as they find the door handle. It's unlocked. She begins to slide it open just as a chaotic blur of motion erupts from the darkness within.

Before she can react, she's knocked sideways, tumbling onto the grassy lawn with a startled cry. Rose looks up, heart pounding, expecting the worst—only to relax when she sees the Alchemist standing protectively before her.

The Time Lady is holding the edge of a large, wriggling, scribbly ball of black lines between her fingers, carefully keeping it steady. The swirling mass crackles and pulses as if resisting her grip. Calmly, she pulls out her sonic and activates it, causing the chaotic scribble to shrink into a much smaller, more manageable size.

The Doctor comes running around the corner, having heard the commotion.

"Okey, dokey?" he asks, offering Rose a hand to pull her to her feet.

Rose exhales shakily, brushing herself off, "Yeah, cheers."

The Alchemist approaches, casually tossing the now-tiny scribble ball from hand to hand with a cheeky grin.

"Sorry for knocking you over," she says to Rose, wincing slightly, "Just didn't want you hurt."

Rose offers a small, grateful smile, "S'okay."

With a quick flick of her wrist, the Alchemist tosses the scribble to the Doctor, who catches it and bounces it experimentally like a rubber ball.

"I'll give you a fiver if you can tell me what the hell it is 'cause I haven't got the foggiest," he remarks.

The Alchemist crosses her arms with a smug look, "I can't use my hand preceptors here, and you mean I'll give her a fiver."

The Doctor shrugs nonchalantly, "Fair enough."

Rose, still watching the bizarre object, frowns, "Well, I can tell you you've just killed it, Ally."

The Alchemist shakes her head confidently, "Nah, it was never alive. It's animated by the same energy that's all around this place."

"The same energy that's snatching people," the Doctor adds with a grin, examining the object closely. "That is so dinky! The go-anywhere creature. Fits in your pocket, makes friends, impresses the boss, breaks the ice at parties."

"Hides in garages and attacks humans and Time Ladies alike," the Alchemist quips with a smirk.

[TARDIS]

The shrunken scribble sits under the TARDIS scanner, its chaotic lines illuminated in the soft blue glow.

"Oh, hi ho, here we go. Let's have a look," the Doctor announces, grinning as he adjusts the scanner controls, "Get out of here."

The Alchemist peers at the screen and lets out a laugh, "I was not expecting that."

Rose steps closer, her brow furrowed, "What's it say?"

The Doctor pulls a pencil from his pocket, flipping it around to use the eraser on the scribble creature.

"It is. It's graphite," he declares, tapping the scanner, "Basically the same material as an HB pencil."

Rose stares at him, deadpan, "I was attacked by a pencil scribble?"

"You were valiantly saved from a pencil scribble," the Alchemist corrects, smirking.

The Doctor chuckles, "Scribble creature, brought into being with ionic energy. Whatever we're dealing with, it can create things as well as take them," he frowns in thought, "But why make a scribble creature?"

"Maybe it was a mistake?" Rose suggests, "I mean, you scribble over something when you want to get rid of it. Like a, like a drawing," she says with a shrug. "You said it was in the street? That's where the children play. Maybe they're drawing."

The Alchemist's eyes narrow slightly as she processes this.

"...Children drawing," she whispers, the pieces clicking together.

The Doctor shrugs. "Probably."

The Alchemist turns to the pair, her tone sharper now, "The little girl."

"Of course!" the Doctor exclaims, then pauses, frowning, "What girl?"

"She was watching me from the window," the Alchemist explains, "Made me shiver. Her mother looked terrified of her. The moment she saw me notice her daughter, she ran inside."

The Doctor's grin widens, "Theorizing or deducing?"

"Can it be both?" the Time Lady counters, genuinely curious.

Rose smirks, catching on, "Copper's hunch?"

The Alchemist nods with a cheeky grin, "Permission to follow it up, Sarge?" she asks with a wink.

Rose grins as the Doctor pouts dramatically.

'I wanted to be the Sergeant,' the Alchemist hears her husband's petulant voice in her mind.

'And I wanted a horse,' she replies, rolling her eyes, 'You can't always get what you want.'

'Rolling Stones? Again?' the Doctor snickers internally.

'Yep,' she fires back with a smirk.

[Front Door]

The Alchemist rings the doorbell, stepping back as they wait. A moment passes with no answer. The Doctor crouches slightly and rattles the letterbox.

Finally, Trish opens the door, looking wary.

"Hello. I'm the Doctor. This is my wife, Ally, and this is Rose," he introduces them with his usual enthusiasm, "Can we see your daughter?"

Trish crosses her arms defensively, "No, you can't."

"Okay. Bye," the Alchemist replies immediately, spinning on her heel. The three of them start walking back down the steps without hesitation.

Trish hesitates, calling out after them, "Why? Why do you want to see Chloe?"

The group halts and turns back, the Doctor leaning slightly forward with a shrug.

"Well, there's some interesting stuff going on in this street, and I just thought—well, we thought—that she might like to give us a hand," he explains casually.

"Sorry to bother you," Rose adds, her grin bright and disarming.

The Alchemist nods with a small smile, "Yeah, sorry. We'll let you get on with things. ...On your own. Bye again."

They begin to turn away again when Trish calls out, desperation edging her voice.

"Wait!" she pleads, "Can you help her?"

The Doctor stops, his expression softening as he looks at her.

"Yes, we can," he promises gently.

[Living Room]

Trish guides them in, "My name is Trish. Chloe... she's all I have."

From the TV, the commentator says, "The Torch Bearer is running up the Mall, which I can tell you is..."

Trish sighs, her gaze drifting toward the stairs, "She stays in her room most of the time. I try talking to her, but it's like trying to speak to a brick wall. She gives me nothing; just asks to be left alone."

"What about Chloe's Dad?" Rose asks.

Trish purses her lips, "Chloe's Dad died a year ago."

"I'm sorry," Rose says with a frown.

"You're not, are you? It's okay to feel that way, you know," the Alchemist says, her tone gentle but knowing.

The Doctor glances at her, concern flickering in his eyes, "You're thinking about..."

"No, I'm not, and you wouldn't be if you'd known him," Trish interrupts, shaking her head.

'Hard not to sometimes,' the Alchemist replies in the Doctor's mind, her expression softening.

The Doctor shifts the mood with a bright tone, "Well, let's go and say hi!"

"I should check on her first," Trish says hesitantly, "She might be asleep."

"Why are you afraid of her, Trish?" the Doctor asks, his voice calm but direct.

"I want you to know before you see her that she's really a great kid," Trish says firmly.

The Doctor smiles, "I'm sure she is."

"Every child is amazing," the Alchemist adds with a kind smile.

Trish nods toward her, "She's never been in trouble at school. You should see her report from last year. A's and B's."

"Can I use your loo?" Rose asks suddenly.

Trish gestures toward the corridor, "Through there."

'What is she doing!? Her Mum's about to let us meet her,' the Alchemist sends to the Doctor.

'We can't stop her now,' he replies with a shrug.

Trish continues, her voice tinged with pride, "She's in the choir... she's singing in an old folks' home... Any mum would be proud. You know, I want you to know these things before you see her. Because right now, she's not herself."

The Doctor, the Alchemist, and Trish watch as Chloe comes down the stairs and heads toward the kitchen.

"Alright there?" the Time Lord calls out before they follow her in.

[Kitchen]

Chloe stands by the open fridge, drinking milk straight from the carton.

"I'm the Doctor," he says cheerfully as they approach.

"And I'm Ally," the Time Lady adds with a warm smile.

Chloe puts the milk back, her expression unreadable, "I'm Chloe Webber."

"How're you doing, Chloe Webber?" the Doctor grins, his tone light and friendly.

"I'm busy," Chloe replies curtly, "I'm making something, aren't I, mum?"

Trish hesitates, her nerves showing, "And like I said, she's not been sleeping."

The Doctor's eyes fall to the graphite smudges on Chloe's hands, "But you've been drawing, though. I'm rubbish. Stickmen are about my limit."

'You liar!' the Time Lady teases in his mind, a soft laugh accompanying her words.

"Can do this, though," the Doctor continues, holding up his hand in the Vulcan salute.

"I can do that too, Chloe. Can you do that?" the Alchemist chimes in, mirroring the gesture.

Chloe doesn't react; instead, she says dryly, "They don't stop moaning."

"Chloe," Trish scolds gently, worry in her voice.

But Chloe continues, her tone flat, "I try to help them, but they don't stop moaning."

"Who don't?" the Doctor asks, his curiosity piqued.

"We can be together," Chloe murmurs.

Trish reaches out, but Chloe flinches away.

"Sweetheart," Trish says softly.

"Don't touch me, mum," Chloe snaps, turning back to the Doctor and the Alchemist, "I'm busy... Doctor, Ally."

The Doctor tilts his head, his grin fading just slightly, "Come on, Chloe. Don't be a spoilsport. What's the big project? I'm dying to know. What're you making up there?"

Before Chloe can answer, Rose's voice cuts through the tension.

"Doctor!" she yells from another part of the house.

[Chloe's Bedroom]

The Alchemist sprints up the stairs ahead of the others, the Doctor close on her heels.

"I'm coming to hurt you," a dark, ominous voice booms from the closet, accompanied by an eerie red light spilling through the cracks.

Without hesitation, the Alchemist slams the closet doors shut and spins to glare at Rose, who freezes in place.

"Look at it," Rose whispers, pointing the Doctor toward the door, her face pale with fear.

He narrows his eyes at her, unimpressed, "No, ta."

"Not even for a second, Rose," the Alchemist warns, her dark glare now locked onto the closet doors.

She stands her ground for a moment before pulling away, tension radiating from her.

The Time Lords turn their attention to the walls, scanning the multitude of pictures. The Doctor slips on his glasses, his sharp gaze darting over every detail of the drawings.

"What the hell was that?" Trish demands, her voice shaking as she stares at the closet.

"A drawing," Rose answers in a hushed, frightened tone, "The face of a man."

Trish steps toward the closet, her hand reaching for the door handles, "What face?"

"Best not," Rose urges, panicked, before slamming her back against the doors, holding them shut.

Trish whirls around to face Chloe, "What've you been drawing?"

"I drew him yesterday," Chloe says quietly.

"Who?"

"Dad."

Trish's face falls, "Your dad? But he's long gone," Her voice cracks with a mix of frustration and sadness, "Chloe, with all the lovely things in the world, why him?"

"I dream about him," Chloe replies, her tone eerily calm, "Staring at me."

The Doctor and the Alchemist exchange a sorrowful glance, a silent understanding passing between them.

"I thought we were putting him behind us," Trish says, her voice rising in desperation, "What's the matter with you?"

"We need to stay together," Chloe mutters.

"Yes, we do," Trish agrees, her voice softening.

"No. Not you. Us, " Chloe clarifies as her voice grows colder, "We need to stay together, and then it'll be all right."

Trish reaches out to place a hand on Chloe's shoulder, but the girl flinches away, recoiling as though the touch burns her.

Rose shifts uneasily, watching the scene, "Trish, the drawings. Have you seen what Chloe's drawings can do?"

Trish's expression hardens, anger flaring, "Who gave you permission to come into her room?" she demands, her voice trembling with both rage and fear, "Get out of my house!"

The Doctor steps forward, his tone gentle but probing, "Tell us about the drawings, Chloe."

"I don't want to hear any more of this," Trish snaps, her protective instincts kicking in.

"But that drawing of her dad," Rose persists, her voice wavering, "I heard a voice. He spoke."

"Rose, hold on," the Alchemist interjects in a quiet, steady tone.

She places a calming hand on Rose's shoulder, her eyes full of unspoken warning.

Rose glances at her, hesitating, but eventually nods, stepping back with reluctance.

"He's dead," Trish glares, her voice laced with anger and desperation, "And these, they're just kid's pictures. Now get out!"

The Alchemist steps forward calmly, "Trish, Chloe has power. Power so strong it's scaring you. You recognize these drawings, don't you? Dale Hicks, Danny Edwards... They're being taken right from your neighborhood. But where are they going?"

"Get out," Trish repeats, but her voice wavers, softer now.

The Time Lady speaks gently, her gaze steady as she reaches out and takes Trish's trembling hands, "Have you seen those drawings move? Just for a split second, and then they're different."

Trish shakes her head in denial, but her grip tightens around the Alchemist's hands, "I haven't seen anything."

The Doctor steps closer, his voice steady and certain, "Yes, you have. Out of the corner of your eye."

Trish's head snaps up, her eyes wide, and she shakes her head violently, "No."

The Doctor nods knowingly, "And you dismissed it because what choice do you have when you see something you can't possibly explain? You dismiss it, right? And if anyone mentions it, you get angry, so it's never spoken of ever again."

"She's a child," Trish says tearfully, her voice cracking under the weight of her fear.

"She is," the Alchemist agrees softly, "She's your child, and you're terrified of her."

"You are," the Doctor echoes, "You're terrified of her. But there's nowhere to turn because who's going to believe the things you see out of the corner of your eye? No one. Except us."

Trish's voice is barely a whisper now, her walls crumbling, "Who are you?"

The Time Lords answer in unison, their voices steady and reassuring, "We're help."

Trish nods slowly, tears streaming down her face. The Alchemist carefully takes out a pristine white embroidered handkerchief, gently wiping Trish's cheeks before wrapping an arm around her shoulders.

"Come on," the Alchemist says softly, guiding her down the stairs.

Trish allows herself to be led, her body trembling but her steps steadying with every moment.

[Kitchen]

The Doctor leans casually against the countertop and spots a jar of marmalade. Without hesitation, he picks it up, removes the lid, and starts eating it with his fingers.

Rose clears her throat loudly, giving him a pointed look. He grins sheepishly, mid-bite.

The Alchemist steps in takes the jar from his hands with a sigh, seals the lid, and promptly drops it into the trash bin.

"I'll pay for that," she says to Trish with a playful grin.

Trish raises a skeptical brow but nods.

Rose cuts through the moment, her voice sharp with alarm, "Those pictures—they're alive. She's drawing people, and they end up in her pictures."

The Alchemist mutters, half to herself, "Ionic energy—it can do a lot."

The Doctor nods in agreement, "Chloe's harnessing it to steal those kids and place them in some kind of holding pen made of ionic power."

Rose's expression darkens, "And what about the dad from hell in her wardrobe?"

Trish snaps, her voice defensive and frayed, "How many times do I have to tell you? He's dead."

Rose crosses her arms, "Well, he's got a very loud voice for a dead bloke."

The Alchemist steps forward, her voice quiet but intense, "If living things can become drawings, then maybe drawings can become living things. Chloe's real dad is dead, but not the one who visits her in her nightmares. That dad feels very real."

The Doctor picks up the thread, his tone grave, "That's the dad she's drawn. And he's just a heartbeat away from crashing into this world."

Trish hesitates, then admits, her voice breaking, "She always got the worst of it when he was alive."

Rose shakes her head, "How can a twelve-year-old girl be doing any of this?"

The Doctor straightens, determination in his eyes, "Let's find out."

He grabs the Alchemist's hand and strides purposefully from the room, heading upstairs, Rose trailing behind them with a small sigh.

[Chloe's Bedroom]

As soon as they enter Chloe's room, she raises her hand in the Vulcan salute.

"Nice one," the Doctor says with a grin.

He steps closer and gently places his fingers on her temples. Chloe's eyes roll back before fluttering shut, and he closes his own eyes for a brief moment of focus. When her body sags, the Alchemist is there to catch her, easing her down onto the bed.

"There we go," she murmurs softly, brushing Chloe's hair back before stepping away.

Trish's voice trembles as she steps forward, "I can't let you do this."

"Trish, it's okay; just trust us," the Alchemist reassures her with a calm smile.

Reluctantly, Trish nods, stepping back.

"Now we can talk," the Doctor declares, turning his full attention back to Chloe.

"I want Chloe. Wake her up. I want Chloe," the girl cries out, her voice no longer her own.

"Who are you?" the Doctor demands, his voice firm.

"I want Chloe Webber," the entity replies.

Trish tries to rush forward, "What've you done to my little girl?"

Rose gently holds her back, whispering, "Trish, it's alright. They know what they're doing."

The Doctor leans closer to Chloe, "I'm speaking to you—the entity that is using this human child. I request parley in compliance with the Shadow Proclamation."

"I don't care about shadows or parleys," the entity retorts through Chloe.

"So what do you care about?" he asks.

"I want my friends," it says.

The Alchemist's eyes narrow as a theory spins, her voice calm and curious, "Your friends? Or your family? Your brothers and sisters?"

"Yes," the entity whispers, "I'm so lonely."

The Doctor nods, "You're lonely. I know. But who are you?"

"I am one of many. I travel with my brothers and sisters. We take an endless journey, a thousand of your lifetimes. But now I am alone. I hate it. It's not fair, and I hate it," the entity says as Chloe's eyes snap open, filled with sadness.

"Name yourself!" the Doctor shouts instinctively, his voice edged with urgency.

"Doctor, don't yell at children. You know better," the Alchemist chides, giving him a reproachful look.

He frowns at her, chastened.

The Time Lady sits down beside Chloe, her hand brushing gently over the girl's hair.

Her voice is tender, "Isolus. You're an Isolus. But what happened? How are you here?"

The Doctor exhales, sitting on Chloe's other side, "Of course. Of course, you're an Isolus. I'm sorry I yelled."

"What happened, little one?" the Alchemist asks again, her voice soothing.

"Our journey began in the Deep Realms when we were a family," the Isolus whispers through Chloe.

She picks up a piece of paper and begins to draw a flower-like shape.

"What's that?" Trish asks, staring at the sketch.

The Doctor nods at the paper, "The Isolus Mother, drifting in deep space. See? She jettisons millions of fledgling spores—her children."

"The Isolus are empathic beings of intense emotions," the Alchemist begins, her voice soft and steady. "But when they're cast off from their mother, their empathic link and their need for each other are what sustain them."

The Doctor looks at her, his expression serious, "They need to be together. They cannot be alone."

The Time Lady smiles gently, then glances down at Chloe.

"Our journey is long," the Isolus whispers through Chloe.

"The Isolus children travel, each inside a pod," the Doctor explains, "They ride the heat and energy of solar tides. It takes thousands and thousands of years for them to grow up."

"And they grow up so beautiful, with a loving family," the Alchemist adds softly, her gaze tender, "You know, you look like flowers to me—white lily flowers. Purity and rebirth; such a beautiful meaning on Earth."

"My brothers and sisters are beautiful," the Isolus murmurs.

The Time Lady leans closer, "They are... and so are you."

"Thousands of years just floating through space. Poor things," Rose mutters, "Don't they go mad with boredom?"

"We play," the Isolus answers simply.

Rose tilts her head, "You... you play?"

The Doctor strokes Chloe's hair gently, explaining, "While they travel, they play games. They use their ionic power to create make-believe worlds in which to play."

Rose smirks at the thought, "In-flight entertainment."

"It keeps them happy," the Doctor says with a nod, "And while they're happy, they feed off each other's love. Without it... they're lost."

The Alchemist leans forward slightly, "Why did you come to Earth? The wrong, beautiful flowers are here."

"We were too close," the Isolus replies, tearing a sheet of paper and beginning to draw a round orange circle.

The Doctor frowns, "That's a solar flare from your sun. It must have created a tidal wave of solar energy that scattered the Isolus pods."

"Only I fell to Earth. My brothers and sisters are left up there, and I cannot reach them. ...So alone..."

"Oh, little one. Your pod crashed," the Alchemist whispers, "Where is it?"

"My pod was drawn to heat... and I was drawn to Chloe Webber. She was like me, alone. She needed me, and I needed her."

"You empathized with her," the Time Lady says gently, "You wanted to be with her because she was alone, just like you."

Her eyes flick to the Doctor, and he reaches over to grip her hand tightly.

"I want my family!" the Isolus cries, "It's not fair."

The Doctor nods, his voice kind, "I understand. We both do. You want to make a family. But you can't stay in this child. It's wrong. And you can't steal any more friends for yourself."

"I am alone," the Isolus says, its voice trembling.

A loud clamber echoes from the wardrobe. The red glow spills out again, and Trish gasps, stepping back in terror.

From within, Chloe's dad's voice growls, "I'm coming to hurt you. I'm coming."

The wardrobe doors shake violently, and Chloe begins trembling on the bed, though her features remain calm as if she's caught in a dream.

"Trish, how do you calm her?" the Doctor asks sharply.

"What?" Trish stammers, turning her wide eyes away from the wardrobe.

The Alchemist moves swiftly to her, taking her hands, "When she has nightmares, what do you do? How do you calm her?"

"I... I..." Trish stutters, overwhelmed.

"It's okay," the Time Lady says gently, her grip steadying, "Just tell us. What do you do?"

"I sing to her!"

"Then start singing," the Doctor orders.

The Alchemist guides Trish to the bed to sit beside Chloe.

"Chloe, I'm coming!" the voice from the wardrobe roars.

"Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree," Trish begins shakily, her voice soft but determined, "Merry, merry king of the bush is he..."

The Alchemist hums along, nodding at Trish to encourage her to keep going.

"Chloe... Chloe... Chloe..." the voice yells, the banging growing louder.

"Sing louder, Trish," the Alchemist urges.

Trish strokes Chloe's hair, her voice growing steadier as she sings, "Laugh, Kookaburra, laugh, Kookaburra, gay your life must be. Laugh, Kookaburra, laugh, Kookaburra, gay your life must be."

The wardrobe stops shaking. The red glow fades. Chloe's body relaxes, her trembling ceases, and her breathing evens out.

Trish looks down at her daughter, tears streaming down her face, "He came to her because she was lonely. Chloe... I'm sorry."

She wraps her arms tightly around Chloe, holding her close as she sobs into her hair.

[Living Room]

The group scours the house, gathering every pen, pencil, crayon, and marker they can find. The Doctor, clutching a handful of markers, absentmindedly twirls one between his fingers.

Trish sighs heavily, her voice breaking as she admits, "Chloe usually got the brunt of his temper when he'd had a drink. The day he crashed the car, I thought we were free. I thought it was over."

The Alchemist, glancing up from a pile of sketchpads, asks gently, "Did you talk to her about it?"

Trish shakes her head, "I didn't want to."

Rose pauses, a handful of crayons in her hand, and looks at Trish, "But maybe that's why Chloe feels so alone. She's got all these terrible dreams about her dad, but she can't talk to you about them."

The Alchemist steps closer, placing a reassuring hand on Trish's arm. "That's exactly it. You need to talk to Chloe, Trish. She needs to know you understand her."

Trish nods slowly, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand, "I will. I'll try."

The group continues to search, the Doctor shaking his head in frustration, "Her and the Isolus... two lonely kids who need each other."

Rose scoffs, tossing a box of colored pencils onto the growing pile on the coffee table, "And it won't stop, will it? It'll just keep pulling kids in."

"It's desperate to be loved," the Alchemist explains, glancing thoughtfully at the scattered supplies, "It thrives on love, and it's used to a pretty big family."

"How big?" Rose asks, raising an eyebrow.

The Doctor shrugs, shooting his wife a knowing look as they both say in unison, "Say around... four billion?"

Rose stares at them incredulously. "Four billion ?"

The Time Lady nods, a sad smile tugging at her lips. "The Isolus are a hive species. They're born into vast families, always connected, always together. Imagine going from that... to being utterly alone."

The Doctor grabs a sketchbook from the sofa and flips through it, "That kind of loneliness? It's unbearable. And the Isolus is doing what it thinks it has to—finding love wherever it can."

"But it's hurting people," Rose points out.

"Not on purpose," the Alchemist says softly. "It's just a scared, lonely child. Like Chloe."

Trish, standing by the window with a box of markers in her hands, speaks up hesitantly, "So... what do we do now?"

The Doctor sets the sketchbook down and looks at her, "We find its pod. That's the only way to help it and Chloe."

The Alchemist nods, "And we'd better hurry. The longer the Isolus stays here, the stronger it gets—and the harder it'll be to stop."

[Dame Kelly Holmes Close]

"We need that pod," the Doctor declares, a determined look in his eyes as he paces in front of the others.

Rose frowns, arms crossed, "It crashed. Won't it be destroyed?"

"Unlikely," the Time Lady says, her tone calm but confident, "They're formed from ionic energy as well. It's rather strong."

Rose looks at her skeptically, "So, what now? Can't you just sense for it, Ally?"

"No," the Alchemist replies, shaking her head, "My preceptors are going haywire around here. I have to keep them off."

The Doctor ponders for a moment, glancing toward the horizon, then nods, "Well, it's been soaking up all the heat it can. That should keep it in a decent state to launch. It must be close, just a matter of finding the signature."

"Once we find it, we can stop the Isolus from taking any more children and return them all to their families," the Alchemist adds, voice steady with resolve.

The Doctor grins, tapping his fingers against his chin, "We can scan for the same trace I picked up from the scribble creature. We'll just need to widen the field a bit."

The Alchemist nods, "I'll adjust the calibrations. If that pod's still intact, we'll find it."

Rose watches them, frustration and hope battling in her expression. "And then what? We just grab it and hope everything goes back to normal?"

The Doctor gives her a sideways glance, a mischievous glint in his eyes, "Well, if it was that easy, Rose, it wouldn't be our job, would it?"

The Alchemist smiles faintly, adding, "But we will stop the Isolus, and Chloe won't have to be alone anymore."

"Right," Rose mutters, "Let's just hope we get there before it gets any worse."

[TARDIS]

The Doctor is bent over, building a device with intense focus, clearly excited about not being able to use his wife's hand preceptors this time.

Rose, arms crossed, watches him, intrigued but skeptical, "You both knew the Isolus was lonely before it told you. How?"

The Doctor doesn't look up from his work, "We know what it's like to travel a long way on your own. Give me the styner-magnetic," he mumbles, clearly lost in thought.

Rose looks down at her hands, confused.

"The thing in your left hand, Rose," the Alchemist tells her, nudging her gently.

Rose scoffs, "Sounds like you're on its side."

"We sympathize, that's all. Understand them," the Time Lady explains, stepping closer, her tone soft yet firm.

"The Isolus has caused a lot of pain for these people," Rose points out, frustration edging her voice.

"It's a child," the Doctor interjects, "That's why it went to Chloe. Two lonely, mixed-up kids."

Rose rolls her eyes, "Feels to me like a temper tantrum because it can't get its own way."

"It's scared," the Doctor says, his voice filled with understanding, "Come on, you were a kid once."

The Alchemist holds up her finger, the small white circle of the binary dot poised in her hand. The Doctor adds it to the device, his mind still racing.

"Yes, and I know what kids can be like," Rose grumbles, "Right. Little. Terrors."

"Do you not like kids, Rose?" the Alchemist asks, her brow raised.

"Not at all. I can't stand them. Don't want them either," Rose confirms, turning away with a sigh.

"Gum," the Doctor demands suddenly, holding out his hand, eyes never leaving his work.

Rose gives him a pointed look before reluctantly spitting her gum into his hand.

"I've got cousins," Rose grimaces, "Kids can't have it all their own way. That's part of being a family."

The Doctor frowns, glancing at her. "What about trying to understand them?"

"Sit down and ask why they're upset, speak gently?" the Alchemist adds with a soft smile.

Rose rolls her eyes, "Easy for you to say. You two don't have kids."

The Doctor sighs deeply, standing straight for the first time in a while, "We're parents, Rose."

"Once you're a parent, you're always a parent," the Time Lords say in unison.

Rose stops in her tracks, her eyes widening in shock, "What did you say?"

She glances between the two of them, her mind racing. Their words hang in the air, their tone so casual, so certain. She had never considered what their lives might have been like before they met her. It was a revelation in itself to learn they had traveled with others—companions, friends. But the idea that they might have been settled, somewhere, with a family of their own on their home planet? That thought stuns her, leaving her struggling to process it. It feels like a truth she never expected, and it shakes her more than she'd like to admit.

The Doctor uses Rose's chewing gum to affix the last component into place, then closes the lid on the glass globe. The scanner is complete.

He nods, satisfied, "I think we're there. Fear, loneliness. They're the big ones, Rose."

The Alchemist continues, her voice calm and knowing, "Some of the most terrible acts ever committed have been inspired by those emotions. We're not dealing with something that wants to conquer or destroy. We're dealing with two scared, lonely children."

The Doctor turns to his Bondmate with a soft smile, admiration in his eye, "There's a lot of things you need to get across this universe—warp drive, wormhole refractors. But you know what you need most of all? You need a hand to hold."

Rose looks at them, mouth agape, pointing to the screen with a look of disbelief. The Alchemist grins and takes her hand.

"No, look, I'm pointing!" Rose exclaims, snapping out of it as the moment passes.

The TARDIS scanner picks up a faint energy source.

"It's the pod!" the Doctor exclaims, a victorious grin spreading across his face, "It's in the street! Everything's coming up Doctor. See, we don't need the preceptors every day, Ally!"

The Alchemist shakes her head with a playful smile, "I'm still using them, thank you very much."

[Open ground]

"Okay, it's about two inches across," the Doctor explains, "Dull grey, like a gull's egg. Very light."

"It actually has some spots, too," the Time Lady adds.

"So these pods... they travel from sun to sun using heat, yeah?" Rose asks, glancing back at them, "So it's not all about love and stuff. Doesn't the pod just need heat?"

There's a sudden crash as the scanner falls to the ground, shattering.

"Doctor?" Rose calls out, spinning around.

The Doctor, the Alchemist, and the TARDIS have vanished, teleported away.

Rose's heart skips a beat, panic setting in, "Doctor! Alchemist!"

[Staircase]

Rose knocks frantically on Trish's door. Trish opens it, and Rose bursts past her, rushing upstairs.

"It's okay," Trish calls after her, "I've taken all the pencils off her."

[Chloe's bedroom]

Rose yanks the drawing of the Doctor, the Alchemist, and the TARDIS away from Chloe.

"Leave me alone," the Isolus cries, "I want to be with Chloe Webber. I love Chloe Webber."

"Bring him back, now!" Rose shouts, her voice shaking with urgency, "Bring them back!"

"No," the Isolus responds, its voice trembling.

Rose's anger flares as she turns to face the girl.

"Don't you realize what you've done?" Rose demands, grabbing Chloe by the shoulders, "They were the only ones who could help you. Now bring them back!"

"Get your hands off my daughter!" Trish screams, her voice full of panic and anger.

Rose's eyes widen in surprise, looking down at herself.

The Isolus pulls away, its voice pleading, "Leave me alone! I love Chloe Webber!"

Rose takes a steadying breath, trying to calm herself, "I know. I know."

She glances around, trying to gather her thoughts, "Doctor, Ally, if you can hear me... I'm going to get you out of there. I'll find the pod."

She turns back to Trish, who's still glaring at her with fear in her eyes, "I'm sorry... I... I wasn't thinking. Please, don't leave her alone, no matter what."

"...The Torch Bearer getting even closer to the Olympic Stadium, heading down the Strand before turning east along the Embankment."

Without another word, Rose bolts out of the house, heading for the street, her eyes scanning frantically for any sign of the pod.

[Dame Kelly Holmes Close]

"Heat," Rose mumbles, eyes wide with realization, "They travel on heat."

"Look at this finish," Kel says proudly, admiring his work, "Smooth as a baby's bottom. Not a bump or a lump."

Rose runs up to him, urgency in her voice, "Kel, was there anything in this street in the last few days giving off a lot of heat?"

He doesn't look up, still focused on the pavement, "I mean, you can eat your dinner off this. Beautiful," he says, before pointing toward a different patch, "So tell me why the other one's got a lump in it when I gave it the same love and craftsmanship as I did this one."

Rose rolls her eyes in frustration, "Well, when you've worked that out, put it in a big book about tarmacking, but before you do that, think back six days."

He hums, distracted, "Six days. When I was laying this the first time 'round."

"What?"

"Well, that's when I filled in this pothole for the first time."

"Six days ago," Rose says, thinking aloud.

Kel nods, "Yeah."

Rose's eyes widen, "Hot fresh tar."

He grins, "Blended to a secret council recipe."

Without another word, Rose sprints towards Kel's van, jumping into the back.

"I don't keep it in the van!" he calls out, waving his hands, "Hey, that's a council van! Out!"

Rose grins mischievously, picking up a pickaxe from the back of the van.

Kel approaches, concern written all over his face, "Whoa, wait, wait, wait. You just took a council axe from a council van. Put it back! No, don't! Wait—put the axe back in the van. That's my van! Give me the axe! No! Wait! No!"

Ignoring him, Rose wields the pickaxe and starts digging at the filled pothole.

"No!" he shouts. "Stop! You just took a council axe from a council van and now you're digging up a council road! I'm reporting you to the council!"

Rose shifts debris aside with her hands and pauses when she feels something rounded beneath the rubble. Slowly, she pulls it free. It's the Isolus ship.

"It went for the hottest thing in the street," she tells Kel, holding it up, "Your tar."

Kel examines it in confusion, "What is it?"

Rose smirks, her voice laced with tension, "It's a spaceship. Not a council spaceship, I'm afraid."

She sprints back toward Trish's house, Kel trailing shortly behind.

[Living Room]

"I've found it!" Rose bursts through the door, out of breath, "I don't know what to do with it, but maybe the Isolus will just hop on board," she freezes as she notices Trish, eyes wide, "Hang on, I told you not to leave her!"

Trish, in disbelief, steps forward, starting at the television.

"...My God! Er, what's going on here?"

Rose storms over to the television, grabbing the remote and pointing it toward the screen.

Kel walks in behind her, shaking his head, "I don't care if you've got Snow White and the Seven Dwarves buried under there, you don't go digging up..."

"Shut up and look!" Rose shouts, cutting him off.

The television blares the news: "...The crowd has vanished! Er, they're gone. Everyone has gone. Thousands of people have just disappeared . Right in front of my eyes. It's impossible. Bob, can we join you in the box? Bob? Not you too… Bob?"

Rose's stomach sinks as the realization hits.

"The stadium won't be enough," she mutters, "The Isolus has four billion brothers and sisters."

[Outside Chloe's Bedroom]

Rose, Trish, and Kel rush up the stairs, with Rose trying the door. It's locked.

"Chloe? Love, open the door," Trish asks gently, knocking hard.

Rose steps forward, more forceful now, pounding on the door, "Chloe!? Chloe, it's Rose! Open the door!"

[Chloe's bedroom]

Inside Chloe's bedroom, the Isolus has ripped down some of the drawings and has begun to draw a round shape on the wall.

[Outside Chloe's Bedroom]

"We found your ship!" Rose shouts, frantically turning the doorknob, "We can send you home!"

"Chloe?" Trish calls, her voice tinged with worry.

"Open up!" Rose demands, glancing down at the pickaxe still in her hand, "Right, stand back."

With a determined swing, she begins hacking at the door, each strike bringing her closer to breaking through. Trish and Kel stare in stunned silence as Rose works with urgency.

[Chloe's Bedroom]

"I'm coming to hurt you," Chloe's dad taunts from the wardrobe, his voice filled with malicious intent,"I'm coming, coming to hurt you."

Rose forces her hand through the splintering door, knocking down the chair that is blocking it, then quickly unlocks the door from the inside. With a swift motion, she opens it and rushes in, the others following close behind.

"Chloe!" Rose shouts.

The taunting voice continues, growing louder, "I'm coming to hurt you. I'm coming..."

Rose's gaze lands on a disturbing sight: a large, drawn map of Earth on the wall, filled with scribbles and chaotic lines.

She gasps in horror, "I've got to stop her."

The Isolus' voice pierces the air, "If you stop Chloe Webber, I will let him out," it says, its tone full of desperate need, "We will let him out together. I cannot be alone. It's not fair."

Rose raises the small ship she found earlier, holding it out like a lifeline, "Look, I've got your pod."

The Isolus responds with certainty, "The pod is dead."

Rose shakes her head, "It only needs heat."

"It needs more than heat," the Isolus corrects, its voice heavy with sorrow.

Rose furrows her brow in confusion. "What, then?"

Kel, still in shock from the entire situation, chimes in. "I'm not being funny or nothing, but that picture just moved."

Rose's gaze shifts to the wall. The drawing of Earth has come alive, showing the Doctor and the Alchemist in a new light. The Doctor is pointing at an Olympic torch while the Alchemist forms a heart with her arms above her head.

"She didn't draw that," Rose murmurs, staring at the image, "They did," she steps away from the Isolus, closer to the drawing, "But it needs more than heat, Doctor."

A voice from downstairs breaks her train of thought. The television commentator continues: "...Is still on its way. I suppose it's much more than a torch now, it's a beacon. It's a beacon of hope and fortitude and courage. And it's a beacon of love..."

"Love," Rose whispers, her face lighting up with realization, "Oh, I'm dumb. That's why Ally's holding up a heart."

The commentator continues, as the camera shifts to show the Olympic torchbearer in the distance.

"...So let's have a look from the helicopter. There we go, the torchbearer running..."

"I know how to charge up the pod," Rose smirks, her plan falling into place.

[Dame Kelly Holmes Close]

Rose sprints toward the gathering crowd, pushing her way through the mass of people at the street's end. A policeman blocks her path.

"Sorry, you'll have to watch from here," he says, holding up his arm to stop her.

"No, I've got to get closer," Rose insists, her determination clear.

He scoffs, shaking his head, "No way."

"I can stop this from happening!" Rose shouts, her voice firm with resolve

[Chloe's Bedroom]

Chloe, deep in her drawing, colors in Europe and Africa, her focus intense as she starts to shade the Atlantic Ocean.

"...Chloe," her father's voice echoes eerily through the room.

Trish, downstairs, hears it, and her heart leaps into her throat.

She stands up quickly, gasping, "Chloe!"

"...I'm coming to hurt you..."

Trish's blood runs cold; she sprints up the stairs, her voice shaking but firm, "She's my baby! You're not going to hurt her again!"

"...I'm coming..."

[Dame Kelly Holmes Close]

The pod shakes in Rose's cupped hands, humming with energy.

She grins excitedly, "You felt it, didn't you? Feel the love."

With a swift motion, Rose launches the pod upwards. It flies toward the flame of the Torch, catching the light. The Torch Bearer falters for a moment before pushing forward, the heat intensifying around them.

"Yes!" Rose shouts, her voice full of victory as she jumps up and down in excitement.

[Chloe's Bedroom]

The Isolus pulls back from Chloe's wall, stepping away from the images it created.

"I can go home," it whispers softly, its voice tinged with bittersweet finality, "Goodbye, Chloe Webber. I love you."

With that, the Isolus breaks free of Chloe, its energy rippling out and shattering the window as it heads for the pod.

Chloe blinks, her mind clearing as she finally becomes aware of her surroundings, "Mum?"

"I'm here," Trish calls from the doorway, rushing into the room.

The girl runs to her mother, crying, "Mummy!"

The red glow from the closet intensifies, and both watch it with wary eyes, unsure of what will happen next.

[Open Ground]

"I'll check on Chloe, you have some running to do," the Alchemist smirks, her eyes gleaming.

The Doctor laughs, "Where am I running to?"

She shrugs, a knowing grin on her face, "I bet that Torch is getting really heavy right now. All that love must have worn out the runner. Might need a hand... or, rather, another set of hearts."

"Ooh, I know what you're up to! I've always wanted to do this!" he responds, eagerly preparing himself for the task ahead.

"I know, of course. You're the only one who could, hm?" The Time Lady crosses her arms smugly, "Two hearts already filled to the brim with love."

He winks, "I'm connected to another set just as full to help. I'll see you soon."

With a joyful shout, the Doctor sprints across the street, his excitement palpable.

The Alchemist watches him go, her grin widening as she pulls up the Vortex and leaps toward Trish's house.

[Dame Kelly Holmes Close]

"You did it!" Kel exclaims, his eyes wide, "What was it you did?"

All around them the missing children begin to reappear, rushing into their parents' arms, their joyful shouts filling the air.

"Mummy!" Dale cries, running to her with arms outstretched.

A woman gasps in shock, "Oh, Jane!"

"Doctor," Rose breathes, scanning the scene; she looks around frantically, searching for him.

"I don't know who you are, or what you did, but thank you, darling!" Maeve says, rushing up to Rose, "And thank that man and woman for me too."

Rose nods distractedly, her gaze darting from face to face, her concern growing, "Where are they? They should be here..." her heart sinks. "All the drawings have come to life. That means all of them," her eyes widen in horror, "...Oh, no."

[Front Door]

Chloe and Trish move cautiously down the stairs, but the front door slams shut violently on its own, followed by a chain reaction as every door in the house locks itself in place.

"Trish, get out!" Rose shouts, her voice rising with urgency as she hammers on the door.

Trish struggles against it, panic creeping into her voice, "I can't! The door's stuck!"

"Is the Doctor in there?" Rose calls out, her heart racing.

Trish looks around frantically, her voice a whisper, "I don't think so."

Suddenly, Trish gasps as the Alchemist appears in front of her, her back to them, standing tall and calm amidst the chaos.

"Ally's here!" Trish exclaims, "She just appeared out of nowhere!"

The Alchemist moves silently, stepping behind them, her hands resting gently on their shoulders. They stiffen, fear rising as they realize they're trapped, eyes wide as they face the stairs.

"Mummy," Chloe calls out softly, her voice trembling.

Her father's voice echoes from nowhere, "...Chloe, I'm coming to hurt you."

Chloe covers her ears, her voice broken, "Please, Dad. No more."

"...Chloe..." the voice lingers, cold and insistent.

"Chloe, Trish, listen to me," the Alchemist says, her tone steady but kind, "It isn't real like the others. It's just energy left over from the Isolus. But you can get rid of him, you don't need me."

"Help us!" Trish cries desperately over her shoulder.

The Alchemist shakes her head softly, "No, you don't need me."

Rose gasps from behind the door, "Oh, it's because you're so scared that he's real," she calls out to them, "But you can get shot of him, Chloe!"

"Mummy!" Chloe's voice cracks.

The Alchemist crouches next to the girl, her voice soothing, "You can do it, Chloe. With your Mum, like you do. Now! Sing together, support each other."

"I can't!" Chloe cries, her body shaking with fear.

"...Chloe, I'm coming..." the voice grows louder, more persistent, but the Alchemist remains calm.

Chloe's distress grows, "I can't! I can't!"

"You can, Chloe," the Alchemist insists, her voice full of warmth and conviction, "Both of you are so strong. You just need to realize it."

"...I'm coming..." the voice calls again, taunting, echoing through the house.

"Chloe..." Trish whispers, her voice filled with love and determination.

She kneels and takes her daughter's hand, her grip firm.

"I'm with you, Chloe," she says softly, "You're not alone. You'll never be alone again."

"Sing! Chloe, sing!" Rose shouts.

"You can do it, just sing," the Alchemist adds firmly.

"...Chloe. Chloe. Chloe. Chloe, I'm coming to hurt you. Chloe!" her father's voice shouts from the shadows, but it no longer has power.

Trish starts to sing, her voice trembling but steady, and Chloe follows, her voice growing stronger.

"Merry merry king of the bush is he. Laugh, Kookaburra, laugh, Kookaburra, gay your life must be. Laugh, Kookaburra, laugh, Kookaburra, gay your life must be..."

The glowing red light, the Isolus' energy, begins to retreat slowly, drawn away by the strength of their love. It pulls back toward the stairs, the red glow steadily fading, until it's gone.

"...Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree. Merry merry king of the bush is he. Laugh, Kookaburra, laugh, Kookaburra, gay your life must be."

With a loud crash, Rose bursts through the door, her face lighting up with relief as she sees the mother and daughter safe.

"You did it!" she exclaims.

The Alchemist steps forward, her smile warm as she faces Trish and Chloe, "See? Told you. You just needed your loving Mum to hold your hand and give you a little lift sometimes, hm?"

'How's Chloe?' the Doctor asks telepathically.

Chloe, full of energy, lets go of her Mum and rushes over to the Alchemist. With a warm grin, the Time Lady swoops down and picks her up, spinning her around with laughter filling the air. Two pairs of giggles echo through the room.

"Want to sing again? I'll join you this time," the Alchemist offers, and Chloe eagerly nods.

The Time Lady silently replies, 'Good, we're singing.'

She sits down on the sofa, placing Chloe over her lap, a wide grin spreading across her face. She gives Trish an excited look, silently prompting her to start.

Trish begins, her voice soft but steady, "Merry merry..."

The Doctor interrupts telepathically with a playful whine, 'Ohh, I'm missing you sing?'

"...king of the bush is he. Laugh, Kookaburra, laugh, Kookaburra, gay your life must be. Laugh, Kookaburra, laugh, Kookaburra, gay your life must be," Chloe sings with joy, joining in, her voice blending with her mother's.

The Alchemist bops her head in rhythm with the song and telepathically responds, 'I'll sing for you later. How's the running?'

'Almost there! Going to go set the world alight with love and send up a child to their family!' the Doctor exclaims in her mind, making the Alchemist's grin widen in response.

Chloe looks up at the Alchemist with a beaming smile, and the Time Lady encourages them all to continue.

Together, they sing the last verse: "Kookaburra sits in the old gum tree. Merry merry king of the bush is he. Laugh, Kookaburra, laugh, Kookaburra, gay your life must be."

As the song finishes, Rose gasps at the beauty of the Alchemist's voice. It's gentle, melodic, and captivating.

"Your voice is so pretty, Ally!" Chloe exclaims, scampering over to her mother with a bright smile.

The Alchemist pouts in playful denial, dramatically shaking her head.

Rose gapes at her, a hint of admiration in her expression, "What are you on about? It's almost professional."

"Nah, nah, nah. Best voice? Chloe's. Every child's singing voice is the best," the Alchemist grins and winks at Trish, her eyes sparkling.

Trish nods, a soft laugh escaping her as she leans down and tickles her daughter. Chloe bursts into giggles.

Trish smiles as she says, "She's right, Chloe. You win the singing competition!"

Rose smiles sadly at the Alchemist, who watches the mother and daughter with such fondness and affection that it softens her expression even more. The joy in the room is palpable, yet Rose can't shake the bittersweet feeling as she watches the Alchemist so quietly content.

[Living room]

The Alchemist sits on the couch, her eyes glued to the television screen.

"...Just look at this! Utterly incredible scenes at the Olympic stadium. Eighty thousand athletes and spectators—gone, disappeared, and now they've returned!" the announcer exclaims.

Rose enters the room, her expression tense. She walks up to the Alchemist, swallowing hard, while Kel approaches the television as well.

"I can't find him, Ally," Rose says softly, her voice tinged with worry.

"...They've returned. They've reappeared. It's quite incredible. Bob, this will certainly…" The announcer's voice trails off as the camera zooms in on the chaos.

Rose sinks onto the couch, looking drained, "Eighty thousand people, so where's the Doctor? We need him."

The Alchemist smiles, watching the screen with quiet confidence, "Not right now, he's needed elsewhere. You'll see."

The commentator's tone shifts to one of concern, "But hang on—look! The Torch Bearer seems to be in a bit of trouble. We saw a flash of lightning earlier that appeared to strike him. Maybe he's injured... He's definitely in trouble!"

The camera focuses on the Torch Bearer, who staggers before collapsing to the ground.

The commentator's voice rises in alarm, "Does this mean the Olympic dream is dead!?"

A figure in a pinstriped brown suit and Converse sneakers picks up the Torch.

Rose stares, her eyes widening. "Doctor."

"Who is this mystery man? He's picked up the flame! We don't know who he is, but he's carrying it now. It's more than a flame, Bob! It's more than heat and light— it's hope, courage, and love!"

[Olympic stadium]

The Doctor, bathed in the spotlight, sprints up the street toward the lower cauldron. He hollers in excitement, then lights the gas.

"Go on," he whispers, a grin on his face, "Join your brothers and sisters. They're waiting for you. They need your love, too."

The flame races up into the arena, where it ignites the main Olympic cauldron. Its glow momentarily simmering before bursting open like a flower. From within, a phoenix rises, blazing, and the Isolus pod soars into the night sky.

The Doctor jumps around in excitement, whooping with joy.

'Did you see? ' he asks telepathically, grinning from ear to ear.

[Living room]

'Watching right now, love. Give us a heart,' the Alchemist responds playfully, smiling at the TV screen.

"Did he tell you he was going?" Rose asks.

On-screen, the Doctor turns to the crowd, giving them a heart-shaped gesture with his arms. The camera zooms in as he grins, then dashes off.

The Alchemist and Rose share a laugh at the Doctor's antics.

She shrugs, her voice full of fondness, "He's always wanted to do that. I figure he's the only one who could carry the weight of a world of love, you know?"

A fleeting thought crosses her mind; Rose would be needlessly angry if she told her that it was, in fact, she who reminded the Doctor about it. That's a secret best kept between the Time Lords.

"Not surprising…" Rose pauses, swallowing hard, "I'm sorry about your children. It must really hurt with them gone."

The Alchemist's anger spikes at the very notion. Even if her theory about them is disproven, they'll always live on through their memories and through them. She nods slightly, but her voice is calm and controlled as she hides her fury.

"They're not gone. Not if we remember them. We live for them. Don't ever suggest that to either of us again, Rose Tyler," she whispers, the words sharp, the intensity of her emotions slipping through just a little.

She turns then, hiding her widened eyes as she feels the patch in her mind lift just a bit. Something about… the missives.

Rose nods, not entirely understanding but agreeing, her own confusion reflecting in her gaze. She follows Kel outside to sit on the steps, the door closing quietly behind her.

The Time Lady watches them go, a brief frown crossing her face before she turns to Trish. She steps forward, her tone serious now.

"She needs help, Trish," the Alchemist says, her voice steady and firm, "You both do."

Trish spins around, startled. She hadn't even heard the Time Lady approach.

"What... what do you mean?"

"I mean, you two should seek counseling. Together and separate. I've seen what abuse does to a child, and I'd hate for it to happen to Chloe," the Alchemist says earnestly, her eyes soft yet firm, "Please, do this for her."

Trish stares at her for a long moment, the words sinking in. Finally, she nods, a quiet resolve settling in her gaze.

"I will," she says simply.

The Alchemist smiles slightly, her demeanor lightening, "Good. Now, how much does a new door, window, and jar of marmalade cost? And do you take credit?"

Trish stifles a laugh, her tension easing for a moment.

[Dame Kelly Holmes Close]

The Alchemist and Rose approach the Doctor, who is grinning widely.

"Cake?" Rose offers, holding out one of the cupcakes they made that morning.

The white icing is topped with edible ball bearings.

The Doctor's eyes light up, and he accepts the cupcake eagerly, taking a bite, "Top banana. Mmm. I can't stress this enough. Ball bearings you can eat—masterpiece!"

The two women roll their eyes at each other, exchanging a glance.

"No banana this time; we made vanilla. Deal with it," the Alchemist mutters, though she's smiling as she speaks.

He shrugs and takes another bite, undeterred.

"I thought we'd lost you," Rose whispers, a note of relief in her voice.

"I didn't," the Alchemist smirks, "Knew exactly where you were. Lord of Love is what you are; forget Lord of Time."

"Hah! Maybe a name change is in order," he says with a grin, then shakes his head, "Nah. No losing me on a night like this. This is a night for lost things being found. Come on."

Rose raises an eyebrow, "What now?"

The Doctor shrugs, looking excited, "I want to go to the Games. It's what we came for."

"We're avoiding Ryan Lochte, though," the Alchemist mutters with a sour expression.

"Why?" Rose asks, confused.

The Doctor winces, "You'll find out... next games."

Rose rolls her eyes, "Go on, give us a clue. Which events do we do well in?"

The Doctor leans in, lowering his voice as if sharing a secret, "Well, I will tell you this. Papua New Guinea surprises everyone in the shot put."

"Really? You're joking, aren't you?" Rose gapes, her mouth hanging open in disbelief, "Doctor, are you serious, or are you joking?"

The Time Lords just shrug together, the mischief in their eyes obvious, "Wait and see."

The fireworks begin to go off in the distance, and the Alchemist grimaces, pulling out a pair of high-tech earplugs from her pocket with a practiced motion.

Rose looks at the Doctor and grins, "You know what? They keep on trying to split us up, but they never, ever will."

"Never say never ever," the Doctor replies fiercely.

The Alchemist grumbles, her tone low, "Really, you shouldn't ever say those words."

Rose waves them off, unfazed, "Nah, we'll always be okay, you and us. Don't you reckon?"

The Doctor pauses in the street, eyes narrowing as he looks ahead, his expression suddenly serious. "There's something in the air," he says, his voice tense. "Something coming."

"What?" Rose asks.

He stares into the distance, his eyes locked on something unseen, "A storm's approaching."

The Alchemist, standing silently beside them, recalls the sensation she's been getting for a while. She knows exactly what he means—it's the rain, a few miles east. She watches the Doctor carefully, knowing that what she feels is more than just the weather.

[TARDIS: Fated Pair Bedroom]

"A memory came from the patch," she murmurs, her voice muffled as she presses the words into his throat.

The Doctor pulls back slightly, his brow furrowing as he looks down at her, "What was it?"

"I sent more than eight missives to you," the Alchemist replies, her tone tinged with unease.

He narrows his eyes, trying to remember, "How many?"

"I'm not sure. Try to recall anything that might have come from Alpha One," she urges, her voice tightening with urgency.

The Doctor's mind races, searching through the fog of so many messages sent during the Time War. Then, as if a switch has been flipped, his eyes widen in recognition.

"Nine. You sent nine under that designation."

Her heart skips a beat,"We have seven in our family. What's the other missive? Who was it for?"

Frustration flickers in his expression as he sighs, attempting to recall more, "Someone named Brode... I didn't understand why I got it. Thought it was a mistake. Honestly, the name isn't great either."

The Alchemist shakes her head, "That's a terrible name. But I would never have sent you anything by mistake."

They both fall silent, each caught in the gravity of the moment.

"What did I do? Who are they?" she asks, concern creeping into her voice.

"I have no idea," the Doctor admits, his brow furrowing, "But we'll find them, and we'll find this 'Brode' too. Whoever he is."

The Alchemist sighs heavily, her expression contemplative, "There are eight telepathic signatures on that patch. It fits my theory, but it's still going to take time to break through it, even with your help. We'll need to figure out what's beneath all of that."

The Doctor places a reassuring arm around her waist, "Then we'll keep prodding at it. You'll break through. I know you will."