Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Waking up one day and realising that you used to be human is a little fucked up. Realising that you're a pup now, makes everything feel like a big cosmic cock up. Being brought into a six-litter family who are all covered in blood and placenta, then spending several months getting covered in piss and shit because your brothers and sisters aren't potty trained? Traumatic.

Alright, maybe Ares is being a little dramatic. Being a pup wasn't all that bad. You get to run through the woods all day, eat whatever you want—no need to pay taxes! Okay, maybe she was liking it too much, but being a pup was so much easier than being a human.

Ah. But then she grew into a big wolf. We're talking like Saint Bernard but bigger. Well, in short, the dog family recognized her a threat and abandoned her. That was fine; Ares was familiar with being independent and taking care of herself. She knew how to hunt, protect, and attack for herself, she could survive.

Well...except the bear traps. Old, rusty, possibly—most definitely, tetanus bear traps. So yeah. Now she's trapped her good leg in an iron claw with no way to get out. Perhaps now would be a great time to have fingers.

‘Fucking life.’ She grumbled at the thought. She tried to ignore the pain and bit back her whimpers.  

She hears someone approach from behind. Her ears perk up and she abruptly turns, causing her leg to get more agitated. She gives a surprised whimper, followed by a warning growl.

“It's alright,” said the man approaching, “I'm not gonna hurt you. I just want to get that thing off your leg.” He said. Ares barked. ‘Did he seriously think that would work?’

“I'm the Doctor, I'm here to help,” the man turned his hands out, “Look, I got nothing on me. I'm just going to release you.”

Ares gave him a half-whimper-half-bark. ‘For future reference, this is not how you coax a dog into trusting you.’ If she wasn’t in so much pain, she would've rolled her eyes. She almost attempted to anyway. 

She contemplated whether or not to trust the man. On one hand, she could finally get this fucking thing off her leg. But on the other hand, if this man turns out to be less than trustworthy, she could die, or worse...mounted headpiece. Ah. But then, if she stays here trapped, tetanus will get her first, then she'll be dead anyway. ‘If he's bad, I'll just bite his ears off. Don't think I can run fast right now, but if he's injured, I could probably get away and hide.’

Ares huffed. She pretends to be distracted as the man tries to stalk closer to her. As he gets nearer, she could see that she could definitely overpower this man if he tries anything funny.

“There, there. I got you.” the man said, as he's caught her foot between his legs. He pulls a tool from his jacket and points it at the bear trap. It makes a whirring noise, and the pressure releases from her leg. She howls in pain.

“I got it. I got it.” The man said. Then there was liquid being poured on her leg, which she assumes was an antiseptic or something. She feels her leg being wrapped in a bandage and a splint. She wonders where the man got all these supplies.

“See? All done,” he says, rubbing her back, “There's a good girl.” She barks. Once he releases her, she takes cautionary step a good feet away from him before checking her wrapped wound. ‘Ah. So, not a completely buffoon of a man then. Good job.'

Ares sent a criticising look the man's way, huffed, then tipped her head slightly downwards as if to convey her thanks. She, pathetically, limps away from the scene of the crime, presumably to look for food.

Chapter Text

Ares sees the man—the Doctor, —‘Sort of fuckass name is that?’ she rolled her eyes. The Doctor is usually spotted by the river, he likes the river. Sometimes he feeds the birds and the foxes. He sought her out almost daily these past few months to rewrap her leg in a bind. He seemed to have learned this time and tossed her a meat—cooked lamb! —before trying to approach her again.

Looking back, she remembers sometime before, seeing the Doctor in the woods. Not really camping or anything, really. Just...being, there. If she were to describe how he’d been back then, she’d say that he was really high. Either that or he’s seriously messed up because he had lead-paint stare to a tee. Also, he never seemed to change his jacket, or his jeans. Matter of fact, she doesn’t think he’s even left the woods at all.

Alright, so maybe he’s depressed. That's an astute diagnosis actually, given that Ares was a doctor when she was human.

Today, the Doctor help a snake to shed its skin, like a fucking Disney princess but for unconventionally, potentially, bitey animals.

Oh! And he chased her through the woods with a 2.5 pound worth of rib eye steak, while she ran on three legs, just to change her bandage. Again.

“If you could just— Oh, stop it!” he fussed, as Ares shook her bag leg under his weight, “I’m just changing your wrap. I gave you steak, go chew!”

Ares whined, losing her fight as she tore through the rib-eye. It's not that she’s being purposely difficult, but it’s really embarrassing to have him sitting on her once, daily. Nevermind that, it was over as soon as it started.

“There. All better again,” the Doctor said, “See? If you could just quit being so fussy...” Ares whipped her head so fast towards him and lifted a paw to her snout, as if to ask ‘Who? Me?’  He seemed to understand her bewildered look and laughed, “Right. I’ll leave you to your feasting. I think we can take it all off by the end of the week, don’t you think?”

Ares merely responded with a soft yelp and a huff, before turning back to her steak cut.

The Doctor was late.

Strictly speaking, there were no clocks in the woods. There was no telling if it was too late or too early, only if it was night or day. Or occasionally, if it was hot enough for it to be considered an afternoon. However, Ares stands her ground that having the sun rise on you would constitute as being late.

But anyway, he was late. Not that he needs to chase her around anymore to change her bandage, they got rid of that weeks ago. But since then, she always finds him at dawn...weeding by the cliff. He's so dramatic. Which is why, Ares appointed herself as cliff-guard, because she's seriously worried that he'd someday jump the edge. ‘I mean, isolation gets to a guy sometimes, you know.’

So yeah. She'll be there, peacefully laying on the grass when he's ‘meditating’ on top. She'll usher him backwards when he's getting too close to the edge. She'll urge him to go home or wherever it is he usually disappears to at night. Then she'll wait for him at the foot of the hill by dawn. Not like she's got anything better to do anyways.

But today, the sun rises without the Doctor. Ares waits for at least an hour after the sun shines before she sniffs around the woods.

Being the biggest wolf in the woods, she was naturally regarded with a wary air by the other animals. They would scurry off when they hear her, squeak in fear once she's looked at them, and generally avoided her path. So when she finds them huddled by the hillside, she got nosy.

‘The hell are these idiots lookin' at?’ she wondered, stalking closer to them. She could smell a mixture of meat and blood in the air. The way parted at once.

In the middle of the controversy was the Doctor—’Of course it's him.’ He seems to have slipped and is now unconscious on the ground. ‘Of course he did.’

Ares shoed away everyone else as she pressed her snout against his wrist to find a pulse. She huffs in relief when she finds one...or two? Nevermind. She rolls him over to his side before tapping her paw at his shoulders.

The Doctor stirs awake.

“Hmm?” he hummed quizzically. Ares turned towards the slide where he slipped, “Did I fall?” she barks. She nudges his foot.

“It's fine. Doesn't even hurt,” ‘It did, in fact, hurt'. He falls back onto his butt as he hissed in pain, “Alright, maybe a little. It's gonna be fine, it's a sprain.” Ares huffed and ignored him, walking away. When she comes back, she's biting through a long thick stick. She offers it to him.

“A stick?” he asked, “Do you...wanna play fetch?” he asked with caution and much confusion. Ares brought her paw up her face, mimicking a face-palm. She nudges his foot, pressing the end of the stick onto his palm.

“Oh! Is it a walking stick? For me?” He cheers happily as he tries to get up, hobbling on one foot. Ares rolled her eyes. ‘Fuckin’ idiot.’

“Brilliant you are!” he says, patting her head, “What shall we do? Obviously can’t hike up the trail now, but what do you say about getting wet by the river?”

They ended up walking to the river, which was relatively near. The Doctor settled down on the grassy patch with his legs in the water, while Ares tried to catch the tiny fishes with her paw. Since being a wolf, she found that some instincts and characteristics grew on her. For example, she now has impeccable senses of hearing, seeing, and smell that she could smell that roasted chicken the Doctor was carrying in his pocket; she’s trying to distract herself to avoid pouncing on him. She also run really fast, compared to when she was human.

There’s also the fact that she likes to hunt now. ‘Bummer.’ It horrified her at first, chasing a prey bird—She didn’t even want to eat bird! Since then, she’d taken to scaring campers into leaving their tents to steal their food. Although there was an instance that she was almost shot by a cowboy wannabe.

“Here,” the Doctor finally yields the chicken, tossing it to her, “Thought you’d like something other than lamb chops.” Ares yelps and tips her head down in thanks, devouring the meat happily.

“You are the most extraordinary wolf I’ve ever seen. You’re impressively large for something your species, incredibly gentle too for something you’re calibre. There’s also the fact that you don’t seem to have a pack; wolves don’t generally live on their own, you know?” Ares let out a whine, “Sometimes, I swear, you can understand what I’m saying.” She yelps. This time, the Doctor looked at her seriously, pointing his glowy tool at her.

“Can you...understand me?” he asked seriously. Ares turned to face him and yelped, “Is that a yes?” she yelps once more, “Alright, do it twice if you really do.” Ares paused to contemplate whether she should entertain him or not.

‘I mean...I could fuck with him. Bark thrice...s’not like he’ll tell anyone, they’ll think he’s a bit loony, that’s all. And I’m almost as tall as a bear, I can take him...meh, what the hell.’ She yelped twice.

“What are you?” he asked quizzically, looking at his glowy tool, “You’re a wolf. A completely ordinary wolf. ‘cept you’re not, you’re brilliant! You've got intelligence in you. You understand me,” he cheers, “Come on, what else could you do? Could you count? What’s four multiplied by three?”

Ares rolled her eyes as she held her paw up. The Doctor, confusedly, accepted her paw. She yelps and starts striking his fingers twelve times.

“That’s twelve! Fantastic! You are officially the most intelligent wolf I’ve ever met,” he said, stroking her fur, “Did you have an owner before?” she whined ‘no’, “That’s a ‘no’. Did someone teach you how to understand english?” she yelps, “So there’s been someone who lived around here before!” she whined, nudging his chest with her paw, “What are you saying?” she finished off one of the chicken’s leg and held the bone securely halfway in her maw. She pressed the bone down his thigh and dragged it across, doing her best to create an eligible stroke, “’Y’, ‘O’, ‘U’. That spells ‘you’. You mean I live in the woods?” she yelps, “Did I teach you english?” she whined, “Huh? What? —No, hold on. You just spelled! That's beyond you.”

Ares thinks that she finally broke the Doctor’s brain. He goes on a minute long tangent of speculating what had happened to her. Meanwhile, she finishes cleaning off the last chicken bone and is now slurping water from the river. The Doctor abruptly stands, with renewed determination.

“Follow me!” he cheerfully says, before hopping away. Ares cautiously follows him to a blue police box. He opens it with a key, then disappears into it. Ares stays put on the grass in front of it. When he realizes she didn’t follow him inside, he pokes his head back out, “Hello again. Come in!” he says invitingly. Again, Ares mentally calculates the probability of ending up on the wall and figured, she’s lived long enough, what’s a little curiosity? So she follows him inside.

“Welcome to the TARDIS! Time and Relative Dimension in Space,” The Doctor says as she stops at the threshold in awe, “D’you like it? Close the door, the draft’ll get in.” Ares lets the door close after her, roaming the room with wonder. If she could speak right now, she would have so many questions. She doesn’t even notice the Doctor leaving the room until he’s come back with a helmet like object in his hand.

She yelped. The Doctor carefully strapped the helmet device onto her, her ear folded into her head, “You might feel a little tingling sensation, that’s perfectly normal. Alright, I’m turning it on.”

Ares heard a whirring noise from the device, and she could see the light from the helmet was bouncing off of surfaces. She feels a shiver down her spine and the lights dim down.

“Okay, now try saying something english.” the Doctor said. Ares narrowed her eyes at him and let out a howl.

“How the—” she snaps her jaw so fast, as the Doctor whoops in joy.

“It worked! Say something else.”

“Woah,” she tried, “What?” she tried again, “That’s english! How is that possible—eep!” she squeaks, “That’s so —oh my god. I’m speaking english! How? I know I’m howling and whining, that’s the movements my mouth is making. But oh my god?! That's english! I can only hear english!”

“It a device connected to the TARDIS. She usually translates for most species. She used to translate for earth quadrupeds, but there’s a lot of animals that don’t necessarily have anything of value to add so it was turned off,” he explains, “But! This device measures your specific wavelength, singles it out of all the quadruped species, and translates it.”

“Right. I gotchu. But why am I not hearing the howling and whining?” she tilts her head in confusion.

“Ah. She's slightly psychic.”

“What —she's in my head?!” she gawks, “She's in my head and you didn't tell me?”

“Oh. Sorry.” He at least had the decency to look ashamed. Ares sighed.

“She's not reading through my mind, is she?”

“Nah. She's just feeding you the translation.” Ares narrowed her eyes for a moment, before deciding it would be a losing battle anyway.

“Alright,” she paused, “You keep saying ‘she’. ‘She’s psychic’. Does that mean she’s...alive?” she carefully formulated her question.

“Yep! Sentient, actually.”

“Like...like Jarvis? Is she AI?”

“No...more like, er...how do you know about Jarvis?” the Doctor asked in surprise.

“I watched it, before. I almost cried when he died,” she said, “Why?”

“It’s not out yet. Not for a decade yet.”

“What are you talking about right now?” she replied inquisitively, “Are you saying that I’m psychic or something? No, hang on, you said ‘yet’. You're so sure when it comes out. Have you seen it? No, wait...” she paused, doing a quick mental math, “You said a decade. Then it must be...1999? Why am I in 1999? I wasn’t even born yet?”

“Nevermind that for a moment!” the Doctor said, snapping her focus back, “What are you? You’re not an ordinary wolf.”

“I’m human,” she blurted out, “Or I used to be. I don’t know. One second, I was waiting for the bus, then I was in the woods as a tiny wolf.”

“Human?” he repeats dumbly, “But you’re...you...”

“Yeah, a big dog. I know.” she rolls her eyes.

“That’s...maybe you’re a werewolf?” he guessed, typing away on a monitor on the round circle panel, “You could be a ‘Lupine Wavelength Haeviform’...but they only turn during the full moon.”

“I only understood ‘Lupine’ and ‘Wavelength’, I’ll assume they’re a type of werewolf.” Ares commented.

“There’s the ‘Vulpanas’ but they turn according to the four moons,” he ignored her, “Werelox...but why wouldn’t the TARDIS recognise your species? Or is it ‘Loups-garoux? You’re not afraid of heights are you?”

“Not particularly —Oh but ferris wheels make me queasy.” the Doctor whipped his head towards her.

“Really? Why?”

“Well, it depends on the ferris wheel. I’ve ridden a very old one before which I don’t think is safe at all. But I suppose the airtight ones are fine.”

“How’s the ‘London Eye’?” he asks.

“Still standing, last I heard?” she stared at him blankly for a few moments until she got it, “Oh! You were asking if —No, yeah. I think it’s grand. Looks very safe to me.”

“Right. Well that’s it for the ‘Loups-Garoux’. You might be an other other type of wereworlf. In fact, you might not even be a werewolf! Maybe you’re a shapeshifter.”

“Okay, can we table this? I have questions.” Ares interrupts him.

“Right. Okay, where do you want to start first?”

“What’s ‘Vulpana’?”

“It’s a planet with four moons.”

“Are you messing with me?”

“No.”

“Right...it’s alien?”

“Yep.”

“Are you alien?” she asked, “Cause I was checking your pulse earlier. I thought it was just really fast, but then they beat at different paces. You've got two pulses, is that normal? I don’t think that’s normal. I should know, I’ve seen lot’s of hearts in the past.”

“...Yes. I am an alien,” he said carefully, “Is that okay?”

“I’m not alien food, right? Or...slave? I didn’t accidentally magically bind myself to you, have I? Or something like that? I haven’t broken —or started! I haven’t touched any alien customs, right?” She asked with a slight panic.

“No,” he chuckled, “No to all of those. You're fine.”

“Oh. Okay. Then it’s fine,” she huffs in relief, “You look human. Also, do you travel in time?”

“Actually, my people came before Humans so you look like us —er, you know what I mean,” he scratched his ear, “And yes, I do travel in time. The TARDIS travels in time and space, more precisely.”

“Oh. Cool,” she says, “I’m just from Earth. Why do you sound English? Or is it just her translating?”

“Nah. I sound like this, it’s an acquired element.”

“Nice,” she hums, “How do you think I ended up in 1999?”

“When were you originally from?”

“2040.”

“Hmm... that’s a long way. It could be a lot of things, maybe through time rifts —its like an opening through the fabrics of time and space. Or time storms. Or someone’s brought you here then mindwiped you.”

“That’s horrible...so I might be a werewolf, mindwiped, and displaced in time.” she recounts dryly. She was about to say more when the helmet starts smoking. The Doctor leapt into action and yanked it off her head.

“No, no, no!” he shouts, pointing his glowy tool at it, “No. It overheated. It's dead. Broken,” Ares whined, “Yeah. Never mind. I’ll make you a better one. Might take a while though...you willing to stay?” Ares yelped, “Great! Well, before that, d’you wanna go on an adventure? Any planet, you pick.” Ares stared at him blankly, then howled to remind him of her inability to be articulate.

“Oh. Right,” he winced, “Then, shall I send us to random?” Ares yelps, “Alright! Hold on.” The Doctor flipped a switch and the TARDIS spun wildly that it reminded her of Discopangpang. If she didn’t have claws stuck to the holed floor, she would have slipped.

The Random-planator —as coined by her— took them to a carnival on New York, New Earth. The Doctor explained how it’s technically the 15th New York since the original one. Ares offered some of her insights through howls, yelps and whines, not that she’s sure he even understood her. By the time they’d finished going through the booths, Ares felt like her belly was going to explode from the amount of food the Doctor fed her.

They had ridden the carousel, although the staff reluctantly let them on considering the size of her. She had stayed on the floor of one of those carriage seats that doesn’t move. She got motion-sick and threw up her lunch immediately after leaving the ride. There was also a lake that you could paddle a boat on, which apparently could not accommodate her weight that it ended up tipping over mid-ride. She and the Doctor swam to the shore, laughing as he dried them up with his Sonic Screwdriver —as he named.

They must’ve spent quite a lot on the carnival games; one of the balls ended up hitting the Doctor on the nose as he threw it too hard. They did go home with an armful of prizes, most that they opted to strap on Ares’s back.

“Still,” the Doctor mentions suddenly, “I forgot to ask your name. I’ve been calling you ‘Wolf’ this entire time.” Ares howls. She had forgotten to introduce herself while she had the chance.

“Oh, right,” he grimaced, “I’ll just guess then, shall I?” she yelps at his idea, “Is it a common name?” he asked. Ares tilts her head side to side, “Is that a maybe? A maybe common girl’s name?” she repeated the action, “Ah, could be a girl’s or a boy’s name then?” she nods.

“How many syllables?” she nudged him twice.

“Starts with letter ‘A’?” she yelps, “English?” she tilts her head, “Could be English? Alright.”

“Alex?” she shook her head ‘no’, “Andrei?” ‘no’ “Archie? Artie? Austin? Ashlyn, Aden, Andy, Addie, Abel, Ali, Atlas, Angel, Aeron, Aero, Ashton, Asher, Amy, Aryan, Arlo, Aries—” she yelps, “—Arthur—wait. You made a yes, is it Arthur?” she whined, “Um, Arlo?” she whined again, “Aryan? No? Aries?” she yelps, “Aries? That's your name? Yes!” She jumped around him in circles for joy.

“Aries, like the constellation?” she whined, “Like the god?” she yelps, “Oh, so ‘A-R-E-S', Ares?” she nods, “Your parents sure know how to name.” he comments.

The Doctor shows her her room that evening. Apparently, the TARDIS chose a room for her a soon as she stepped in. The door was a deep green, with her name, ‘Ares' embossed on it. Inside, it had painted cream walls and a forest-green ceiling. And the bed! Perhaps it was a joke at first, but the white, queen-size bed had a large blanket that was green, covered in tiny yarn details that made it look like a grass-patch. It was the softest thing ever that made her never want to get up.

She also, apparently, gets a full bathroom, which was a flyers-only privilege according to the Doctor.

Chapter Text

It had been a little over three months now that Ares had been living in the TARDIS. She concludes that whatever soul-sentience the TARDIS possessed, it was intelligent because every morning, there’s a fresh plate of food for her on the dining table.  The TARDIS always seems to know when she’s hungry or thirsty.

In those past months, Ares has learned a lot about the Doctor and the TARDIS. The Doctor has two hearts, and a respiratory bypass. He also likes to brag about that. He will go on a tangent about how much better he is if he accidentally hurt himself while fixing the TARDIS or just simply shaving. It's quite funny to watch, especially when he turns to her for a rhetorical question. The TARDIS like to mess things up just to watch the Doctor fuss around, because apparently, she has a personality. The Doctor shaves because he thinks it makes him appear younger. Speaking of which, he’s apparently nine-hundred years old.

The TARDIS moves the rooms a lot. Once, the Doctor appeared to her, panting, saying that he’s been looking all over for her room. She howls a ‘thank you’ to the TARDIS for keeping him away for the week she got her...wolf period. It would have been a weird encounter either way.

The Doctor also has nightmares. Suppose she had expected that, in the back of her mind. The man was nine hundred years old, with a timeship, of course he’d seen stuffs made of nightmares. Ares had discovered this one night when she was wandering the halls to the kitchen. She knows the Doctor wasn’t much for sleeping so she’d assumed he must been ‘fixing’ the TARDIS, or whatever it is that he really does. Only, she’d wandered the halls for half an hour now, passing by the same door for the past few minutes. She chalked it up to the TARDIS playing games with her, as the Doctor warned her. She didn’t mind; she wasn’t in a hurry anyway.

But, well...she heard a noise. A cry, from inside the room. Suddenly, she doesn’t think that the TARDIS was playing anymore. Ares had stopped in front of the door—she had briefly concluded that it must be the Doctor’s room. She wasn’t sure what she should do. Sure, she knew what she wanted to do; that was to go in there and help. She could do that...but was it what she should do? She didn’t want to overstep her boundaries with the Doctor.

Well, anyway, she was saved from having to make a decision because the TARDIS opened the door for her. Ares saw the Doctor on his bed, clutching onto his duvet like a lifeline. She hadn’t paid much attention when she first came in, but the Doctor had been wearing pajamas then. Somehow, that had surprised her more than anything.

Entering his room, she’s faced with the fact that she doesn’t really know how to help. Sure she was a doctor, but she specialized with dead people; people who neither had nightmares nor life! Perhaps if she had paid more attention in one of her minor subjects, she would have known how. But all she can think about is that stupid therapy cat-dog from ‘Puss in Boots 2’.

Ares laid her head on his chest and begins to breathe heavily, slowly. It wasn’t as though she could offer him soothing words at the moment, so she improvised. She hummed lowly, sending a steady vibration from her throat onto his chest. She thinks it worked, because soon, the Doctor was no longer in distress; he had let go of the duvet and moved to placing it on top of her head. Once she was certain that he was calmer, she quietly slipped out of his room and continued her venture into the kitchen.

She never mentioned it to the Doctor—communication barrier aside— nor the following nights that it happened again.

About a month ago, she had gotten a collar. It happened during one of her and the Doctor’s adventures on a beach planet where a local thought that she was a stray and tried to call impound on her. The authorities were called and the Doctor had to make up and explanation that she was a service dog, and that she was trained. Of course, she had to prove that by doing an obstacle course with the Doctor and performing a heel call. Thankfully the authorities believed them and let them go, with the condition that she had to be collared.

The Doctor had to bribe her with strawberry pie from Pyeong-12, which was her current obsession that the Doctor had to limit her, before she wore the gold-studded leather collar.  She doesn’t really mind, having worn her fair share of chokers back then. Still, it seemed to bother the Doctor a bit. ‘Might just be weird having to collar your friend’.

“Ares!” she heard the Doctor calling from where she was perched in the library rug. The Doctor made her gloves so she doesn’t accidentally rip the pages off the books. Although looking across from her snout sometimes made it difficult, she’s thinking of asking for reading glasses.

“Ares! Yoo hoo! Where are ya, you great big slob?” Oh yeah. He's also gotten comfortable enough to name-call her. Must be payback from when she gnawed on his fingers.

‘Just you wait, your pompous prat.’ she thought to herself, as she abandons her book to meet him in the hallway.

“There you are. Were you reading?” she nods, “Right. Well, good news! I got the translator fixed,” He revealed his hand that held a small device that suspiciosly looked like an airtag, “Well of course I improved it. Smaller, less conspicuous, can fit in your collar. May I?” Ares nodded as a gesture for him to continue. The Doctor unclasps her collar and slips the chip into the center, before putting it on her again, “There. Let’s hear it.”

“...Hello?” her tail wags in delight, “Hell yeah! I can speak again.”

“Fantastic!” the Doctor cheered, “And look, I can turn it off so you don’t accidentally speak human when we don’t want you to. Don’t want you getting put down, or worse, dissected.” Ares nodded in agreement.

“That’s smart,” she said, “It looks like an airtag though. Why didn’t you just turn the TARDIS quadruped translator back on before?” The Doctor winced.

“I broke that matrix.” he said sadly, making Ares howl in laughter.

“Oh my god! How badly did the squirrel want the nuts that you had to break the matrix?”

“It wasn’t that!” he reddens, “I was hearing animals...procreating.” his response made Ares laugh even more.

“That’s worse! Oh god. You poor unfortunate soul, to have heard —Oh my god, have you seen bunnies at it? I swear I moved west side of the woods because the whole northside was occupied by a whole rabbit nation.” She grimaced.

“That’s what I’m saying!”

“Oh! Before I forget,” Ares changed the subject, “Can I get reading glasses? My eye hurts when I read. Might just be because of the whole snout between me and the words but yeah.”

“Yeah, sure. I’m sure I could do that,” he says, “But right now, I couldn’t get much information about you from ‘Ares’ alone. Hopefully, since you can give me verbal sign now, we can find out what you are.”

“Oh! We can check on what happened to me,” she suggested, “Have you got internet? My brother’s a pretty successful lawyer. If anything were to happen to me, it would be a gosh in the law world. Or my cousin, he’s in a band. Or...well, we could always check my page.” the Doctor ran back to the console room, with Ares on his tail. Hah!

“First, I’ll need your name. Full name. Gotta confirm your identity.” He says, typing in the monitor.

“Arista J. C. Martinez. A-R-I-S-T-A.”

“None.” the Doctor announced.

“What?” Ares watched from his shoulder, “That’s impossible. What year are you searching from? There should be articles, I should know, I’ve searched them.”

“Everything til 2040. No articles, profiles, nothing.”

“That’s...Okay. Search for Anthony Martinez. That's my brother.” she watched as the Doctor typed and a bunch of articles popped up on the screen.

“There. This one right here, it mentions a sister,” the Doctor says opening the tab, “ ‘Attorney Martinez under fire for alleged murder of sister.’ , ‘Attorney Martinez under investigation for suspicions of siblicide.’, ‘Attorney Martinez under threat of disbarment.’ Does your brother have reason to kill you?”

“What? No! We get along just fine. Who would ever think that?” She exclaimed, “And even so, I’m alive. These are all baseless accusations —Of course!”

“What? What is it?”

“Try ‘Jace Warrior’,” She watched as the Doctor typed on the monitor and a bunch of articles popped up, “Yes! That’s the one.”

“I’m not following.” The Doctor said.

“Jace Warrior is the Platform name I created for myself as a content creator— it was a side hobby,” she paused, “But, if you’re really wanna confirming my identity, pull up instagram. I’ve got this old private account that I barely used but I have pictures there. How secure is your network?” she asked skeptically.

“We’re in space, Ares. How much safer can it get?” He deadpans.

“Ah. Point,” she says, “username: fckst3verog3r5. Password: cuntcuntcunt.”

“What are you, five?” The Doctor asked incredulously.

“Thirty-five actually,” she says nonchalantly as the account logged in, “There! That’s me! See?”

“Alright, I believe you,” he concedes, “What are you suggesting we do next?”

“Can you look up what Marina’s saying? She’s my best friend, she would have made a statement.” The Doctor does just that.

“She started the search for you,” he says, “This post says you didn’t show up to your flight back. And then she contacted your brother, and your other friends, and when no one can find you, they called the police. That’s half a year since before your brother is under investigation.”

“Right. And who started pointing fingers?”

“A woman named KlairewithaK.”

“Fucking Klaire. Annoying Cunt with a ‘K’.” Ares grumbled.

“That’s a reaction.” The Doctor said amusingly.

“I should have known! She’s always been a huge piece of shit, pickin’ on my brother, trying to cause discourse between me and my brother. God! I tried to be civil but she just gets on my nerves!”

“Who—who’s klaire?”

“My ex,” she sighed, “bane of my fucking existence. She’s so fucked in the head, she’s convinced herself that I wanted to date my brother, that I were to leave her for any man—not to mention, my brother!”

“Oh. Crazy ex. Gotcha,” he replied, “why’d they believe her now?”

“I don’t fucking know. I obviously have expressed my disagreement with whatever bullshit comes out of her mouth. Why they’re believing her now, is beyond me.” She huffed.

“Well, your cousins and friends have come forward to side with your brother, but Klaire has somehow spun this to make them accomplices as well.”

“What? Are they being investigated too?” She asked in a slight panic.

“Not yet. As far as the court is concerned, it’s too fantastical that everyone surrounding you has planned your death. Although they’re not letting the case go so easily, it helps with your brother’s standing.”

“Okay…so, we’ll just figure out what happened to me, then it’ll be fine.” She says, trying to reassure herself. She felt a hand on her head, gently carding through her fur.

“Hey,” the Doctor gently said, “We’ll figure it out. We’ve got a time machine.”

“Yeah…you’re right.”

“Now, what was the exact date that you remembered last as human?” He says, switching the monitor off and moving around the console.

“Er, September…12, 2040. I was in…Al Falah road, waiting for the bus.”

“Which Al Falah road?”

“Erm, Abu Dhabi.”

“Huh.” All the Doctor said.

“What? What's the ‘huh' for?”

“You're a long way from Abu Dhabi. We're in Belfast, Ireland.” The Doctor informed her nonchalantly.

“Huh?” her eyes widened—in spirit as she wasn't exactly sure how locomotive her skin is as of the moment, “What, like Derry Girls?”

“Close,” the Doctor pulled at the zig-zag plotter—a term she's grown familiar with—and the TARDIS jolts in a haphazard manner—another thing she's grown accustomed with, “Here we are. September 12, 2040, Al Falah road, Abu Dhabi.” He made his way towards the door just as Ares called for his attention.

“Doctor!” she yelled, “Just as well, could you check for safety? It's just...it's the day I disappear, I'd rather just one of those a day.” She suggested, concern bleeding out of her voice, if it were the only thing where her emotions showed.

“Right...” the Doctor replied, shocked by how anxious  she sounded—a far cry from how she was a few minutes ago, “Right. Of course, I can do that. Environmental checks! Should always be the first thing to do.” He ran back towards the console, tapping away on keys that Ares's paws would have surely crushed under their width, until there's a ping on the monitor.

“What's it say?” she asked, peering over to see a familiar script she's come to know was the Doctor's language on the screen.

“It says a storms approaching. Was there a storm then?”

“No. The government would have said,” she paused, “Oh, but the road was empty.”

“The road was empty?” the Doctor asked sceptically.

“Yes...” she tried to remember, “I was waiting for the bus for more than an hour since. I was distracted on my phone, so I didn't really mind. But I looked up, and there were no cars nor anyone. I didn't think much of it, I didn't really care. ‘sides, I thought it was just a slow day. I wasn't late anyway.”

“Morning?”

“Yes. My appointment wasn't until the afternoon, but buses were usually full by then,” she paused, “Oh, but then it wasn't completely empty! I remember seeing this bright umbrella, and I looked. I thought I saw the grim—or I think it was the grim. And a man.”

“The grim? You mean death?”

“Maybe,” she guessed, eyes close in concentration, “No. Not death. It was a reference. I saw it, and I thought it looked like the grim. I thought it was funny, because it was looking at me... and then I was gone. Then I was a wolf,” she paused, “Perhaps, it was death.” She wondered thoughtlessly.

“Well,” the Doctor clapped his hands suddenly, “No time like the present. Well, all the time actually. All time like the present—nevermind, it got away from me.” Ares followed him towards the door.

“Why do you push it to open?” Ares asked suddenly, nervousness making her unsettled.

“Hmm?”

“The doors,” she replied, “It says pull to open. But you push them.”

“ ‘dunno. Just do.” The Doctor said, having to ponder as well.

“Will we take an umbrella? It's going to storm. Storms in Abu Dhabi are intense—in all the states actually. I think the government's still playing with the weather. Called it a Basic Cloud Excitation Module. I think it’s great, but the states' aren't as equipped to handle strong rains. Our car used to break down when the rain comes, used to flood the under chasms.” She rambles.  

“We might not even stay until the storm, but go ahead. Pick one.” The Doctor pointed at the umbrella bin by the door, which was surprisingly generous in its contents.

“Have you got many friends around? that's an awful lot of umbrella's for a man with two hands. Have you got extra hands? Like—like ‘Four Arms’? I used to watch that show, the old one. Love the speedy alien. Are there aliens like that?” she rambled on as she hooked her limb under one of the umbrella's handle and pulled up, “Er, it's very orange.” She says, adjusting her eyes to the colour.

“Just the two arms. I think I could regenerate with four arms but it’s one in a billion chance. And...suppose there are aliens like those. Its a wide universe,” He evades her first question, taking the umbrella from Ares' offered arm, “Ready?”

“Yep!” she answered, “Is it like ‘Back to The Future’?”

“Time Travel? I suppose so. Best analogy I've had so far.”

“Sweet,” She followed him outside the TARDIS and they found themselves in between buildings. Not so far from where they were was a bus stop, “Oh! There’s one! Are we in Al Falah? I remember there was a supermarket nearby. And a…Jollibee right around the corner.” She whipped her head around in search of the landmarks she had pointed out. Then she found herself shaded under the orange umbrella, so she tilted her head at the Doctor questioningly.

“It's about to rain,” he says, holding a wet finger up, which she's about a hundred percent sure he just licked, “Ten seconds now.”

“What is it that it actually does? You licking your finger, I mean. Is it like snakes? When they have a smell, they wag their tongues in the air.” She asked curiously.

“Air particles. I can taste the condensation and the heat swelling from the ground.” He explains.

“That sensitive? You must hate spicey food,” She commented, directing her attention back to her surroundings. She spots a familiar store across the street, “Oh! We're on the opposite side. I should be—right there! That's me!” she wags her tail uncontrollably as she spots herself on the other side.

“You look tiny,” the Doctor teased, “Are they even feeding you?”

“Yah,” she throws the back of her paw to his face, his grinning mouth catching a ton of fur, “Shut up.”

Soon, the pitter-patter of rain came and the two crammed under an umbrella. They dutifully watched as Ares—the human version— dutifully ignored them from across the street. It rained harder, yet the two stood their ground, determined to see through history.

“She's—you're very oblivious to your surroundings, you know?” the Doctor commented.

“No, I'm not. I remember now, feeling as though someone's staring,” Ares said, “I'm ignoring it—us. Haven't you heard? ‘Ignorance is Bliss'. I'm really good at that.”

“ ‘Ignorance is Bliss', what sort of ideal is that? You’ll just get yourself into trouble if you ignore the problem. Or worse. You might get killed in the process of being uninformed,” Ares got a sense that the Doctor was sincerely concerned for her well-being, “I mean, there's a big dog and a stranger staring intensely at you from a far, and nothing? Ridiculous.”

“Yeah?” Ares challenged, “Look at my hand. Look at what she's holding.”

“It's a jug.” He declared.

“A metal jug. Look at my hair.”

The Doctor squinted, looking for whatever it is Ares thought had been important enough to point out.

“A hair pin?” he asked in confusion.

“If I bashed that jug onto your head and punctured your spleen, what happens?” she questioned smugly. Suddenly, the Doctor felt impressed and horrified at the same time.

“If I were a normal human being, I'd be incapacitated. I can live without my spleen, and the bash on my head would render me either unconscious or dazed,” he concludes, “and if I were fast enough to block you or carry you off?”

“Kick your nards, elbow to your chest, pinch you nipples—that'll be unexpected and painful. Headbash you on your nose, bite you, lots of other alternatives.” she mentions offhandedly.

“Chloroform.” he countered.

“Then I’m targeted,” she points out, “I think I’ll be curious.”

“And If I had a gun?” he asked bluntly, “If I shot you from a distance?”

“Then I suppose it’s my time. Depending on your skill,” she answered calmly, “Still. Targeted. Can’t wait to know why.”

“Just like that? You’d let yourself die so easily?” The Doctor pressed.

“Let? Let?” she replied incredulously, “You ask too much of me. I’m not the one who holds the gun. You could simply choose not to shoot me, yet I’m to blame I’m dead?” she rolled her eyes, “Shall I eat the bullet and spit it out for you? I’m only human, not much I can do about dying.” She reminds him.

“...I suppose,” he says, glancing back at the human sitting idly at the shed, “You just look so complacent, it’s worrisome.”

“Is it? Am I?” she asked, “Do not mistake my peace for complacence nor ease, Doctor,” she gathered her thoughts carefully, “Must I judge you of a crime you have yet committed? Shall I hold everyone I meet in contempt against me? I am not under a false fantasy that everyone is good and kind, but is it not true as well the other way around? Why shall I unnecessarily shield myself from something that has yet to show hostility? If I did, I’m sure the arm that holds the shield would be useless when time comes that I truly need it.”

The Doctor didn’t respond, seemingly taking in her very strong opinions from the matter. The more that he looked on the past version of Ares, the more that he found thing to ponder. It is true, she looks complacent. However, every now and then her finger stops scrolling through her phone and he gets the feeling that she’s looking. She sat peacefully on the bench, yet the way her feet were forcefully on the ground tells him that she’s ready to run.

His musings were interrupted by a lightning, followed by a shuddering thunder.

“There’s really nobody on this street.” he mentions.

“Do you think there was a late announcement from the government? I wouldn’t know, I haven’t got a connection.” Ares says.

“What? Like internet? Haven't you got data?” he asked incredulously.

“Nah. Waste of credits. I’m either at home or at the station anyway, they’ve got Wi-Fi there.” she mentions.

“Station?”

“Police. I do Post-Mortem as an FME.” she answers.

“Ah. So that’s what you meant about having seen lots of bodies,” he said, “Well, what’s she doing then? If not online?”

“Writing,” she grinned —or as much of a grin her face could manage, “keeping the Merlin Fandom fed since 2024,” the Doctor looked at her in a mix of bewilderment and confusion, “Fanfiction. You don’t know it?”

“Um, I don’t think so.” he scratched his head.

“Oh, you sweet summer child, I’m about to ruin literature for you.” She said conspiratorially that it almost made the Doctor nervous.

Whatever response he had was diminished by another bolt of lightning appeared. This time it hit the bus stop...and Ares was gone. The two stood there dumbly for a few moments until the thunder came before they crossed the street in horror.

“What?” Ares shrieked, “That shouldn’t be possible. The Bus stop is intact but I’m just gone?”

“I don’t know...” the Doctor mumbled, taking out his sonic screwdriver for a scan, “Oh.”

“What? What is it?” Ares hounded him.

“It’s a Time Storm. It took you away from your current time, and —”

“Displaced me in time, yeah, yeah,” Ares completed, “Do we know when it took me to?”

“No,” he paused, “Not precisely.  It shot a time window between the 20th century.”

“Huh?” she asked dumbly, “But that...” she paused, “...I could have seen Queen?”

“Ares! Focus!” the Doctor shook her, “Come on, back to the TARDIS!” he said, running out of the bus station.

“Take my things!” she yelled to the Doctor, who made a run-back to gather her left belongings from when she disappeared, before continuing running to the TARDIS.

“Where are we going? What are you doing?” she asked as the Doctor unceremoniously dumps her things on the floor, racing towards the monitor, “Are we going to follow the storm? We can scan for that, right?”

“Exactly!” he cheers, “Looking for time storms that landed between 1900 to 1999. You're really good at this.”

“Oh, thanks,” she shyly replies, having not expecting the compliment, “How long of a lifespan are we considering here?”

“Oh, hundreds,” the fact seemed to startled Ares for a bit, “If you were human, we'd be looking from fifty to sixty years interval. However, seeing as you're a great big dog, and our current running theory is werewolves, I don't think it would be far fetched to think you'd live longer.”

“Oh,” she blurts, “I guess I haven't thought of that. I mean I knew it, I just hadn't...realized what that meant.” Ares waited dazedly for the TARDIS to throw them off their feet —well paws.

Chapter Text

“Right,” she zoned out for a few seconds, “Heh?”

“A Werelord! I met one before—didn't end well, he tried to change a fixed point,” the Doctor buzzed around in the library, sporting a pair of brainy-specs that Ares highly doubted did anything for his eyes, “There's very little written about Werelords ^[1], they're Gallifrey's most well-kept secret.”

“Why?” she asked from the perched she watched him from.

“Because they are the result of Rassilon's experimentation on the genetic mutation of a Time-Lord. He used them to fight in the Vampire wars, and a soon as they exhausted their usability, everyone forgot about them.”

“...Right,” she said slowly, “Not gonna lie, I'm feeling a little unsafe right now, Time-Lord.” She said half-jokingly, to which the Doctor responded by sticking out his tongue.

“Jackpot!” he exclaims, almost falling off the steps from excitement, “See, the TARDIS is very old. Which means it’s got files that dates way before I got her. Which means—History! Massive history stash that no one's bothered to clear out for centuries!” He carries a couple of books down to the table and presented it to Ares.

“When you say ‘Forgotten'...”

“Well, as far as I—what the Werelord I encountered said, the Werelords hid on Earth during the 150 BC. Not like they were haunted or whatever, but they kept to themselves. They were however hunted by Earth occupants in the 59th century so...”

“Oh, thanks.” She rolled her eyes. She read the titles of the books that the Doctor had gathered.

‘Vampire wars, the Great Vampire War, Subspecies: Werelords, Werelords: The Genesis, Vampires vs Gallifrey.’

Time passed them quickly as they divided the source materials.

The Doctor had left during the second hour and came back half an hour later for the glasses that Ares had requested. Then they were a bit derailed from their goal as the Doctor thought that Ares looked absolutely ridiculous with the specs and just had to take a photo. Of course, it took him quite a bit to find the polaroid camera he had somewhere amidst the clutter in Storage Room 17, which he only found after looking through Storage Room 12, Storage Room 4, and the attic. Then Ares insisted that it was unfair that only one of them was havin' a laugh, which prompted the Doctor to break out the Gloss 7000—a photobooth that the Doctor theived from the 34th century. Then they spent an hour laughing at their pictures as Ares hid in the broom closet—that they apparently had—and drew vandals on it as best as she could without fucking fingers, while the Doctor attempted to bribe the TARDIS to set the photos on fire.

They only made progress once the Doctor dished out the brain foods—a bowl of grapes that the Doctor hand-fed Ares seeing as there was no way she could eat it without making a mess. It was a relief to find out that Werelords were not particularly allergic to anything like ordinary dogs were.

“Hey, this one says that Werelords can regenerate,” Ares pointed out, from where she was reading ‘Werelords: the Genesis’, “What does that mean? Regeneration? Like a starfish?”

“Huh?” the Doctor came up behind her on the floor to read what she had said, “I suppose that makes sense. Time-Lords have a way of cheating death. Once our bodies sense that we are dying, it's going to initiate a regeneration cycle.”

“Which means?” the wolf asked incredulously.

“Which means, every single cell in our body is being replaced by completely new cells.”

“Everything?” he nods, “That must hurt. Will that happen to me?”

“Most likely. If what we saw when you got dropped off was anything to go by.” He shrugs, returning to his own source material.

“...is it like Deadpool?” she asked after the silence.

“Hmm?”

“The regeneration.” She clarified.

“Er, not exactly...” he abandoned his workspace and went to the console room. Ares, confused as she is, followed him, “Like this.” He turned the monitor to her view.

Ares tilts her head in confusion as she saw a man—a very old man— lying on his deathbed. Then unexpectedly, as the man had taken a last shaky breath, his body seemed to glow in gold particles until his whole body was obscured from any discernible features. Then in a blink, a new man lays in his place; younger and definitely a different man.

“What?” she looked back and forth from the monitor and the Doctor, “What was that? He just—huh?”

“Regeneration. That's what happens,” he says, “That was, er, me. My first regeneration.”

“Heh?” came her eloquent reply, “Really?” he nodded, “How old are you? You look like a grandfather.”

“I am a grandfather—was a grandfather.” He winced.

“No way...” she says in disbelief, “You are so old!” she laughs.

“Oh, wow. Look who's talking,” he rolled his eyes, “You're what now—seventy now?” he teased.

“Don't remind me.” She groaned.

“Where are we?” Ares asked.

After discovering the truth to her disappearance, and leafing through thousands of pages worth of knowledge about the Vampire wars and Werelords, Ares and the Doctor had been trying ways to trigger her transformation back into a humanoid form. Although, that was more of a side project since Ares didn't really mind being a Wolf for a while. It was pretty cool.

Since then, they have only been travelling the universe.

“Don't know. By the looks of it, a beach.” He says staring at the purple sand and black sea.

“It's black. Wouldn’t that be boiling?” she asked, “When are we?”

“Somewhere in the year 2 billion,” he bent down to dip his fingers into the water, “It is hot. Might be why no one's here.”

“Still. It's pretty. Can we take some sand?” she asked.

“I don't see why not!” the Doctor grinned as he dug through his pockets for a container and a trowel, “Fill it to your hearts content.”

Later in the TARDIS, Ares finds a mason jar and transfers the purple sand. The Doctor finds out that it was actually from the coasts of Borealis Moon II, which is part of the seven moons of Terlean Major that forms a very beautiful light prism when they all line up. The Doctor promises to take them there sometime.

The Doctor took them to the day Kennedy was assassinated. Ares didn't really enjoy that and complained the whole time they were waiting. Well, more like whine, seeing as a talking great wolf might be alarming in a crowd. The Doctor insisted it wasn't exactly his fault that the TARDIS landed there, and that some Time-Agent idiot—his words —was trying to stop the assassination.

“Okay, clarify. Why can't we just let this dude stop the assassination?” she asked as they moved away from the panicking crowd.

“Because, Kennedy's death opens for the fall and rise of the States.” The Doctor explained, half annoyed that she even considered the idea.

“Like a catalyst?” he nods, “Oh...so if his death wasn't a catalyst for other important events, then it wouldn't be a fixed point?”

“Exactly! But not really?” he answered confusingly, “Deaths are usually events that are classified as fixed because having a dead person alive changes the whole dynamic of time. For example, Tony Stark didn't die during Endgame, would Far From Home happen?”

“I don't think so,” She shook her head, “I mean there's still a possibility it would but the likeliness would lessen. Ah.”

“Yes. Same thing with Kennedy. Things that shouldn't happen might happen. And it could mess up with the continuity of time and space very easily, very quickly.” She nods in agreement.

“...okay but what if Kennedy doesn't die, but instead transported a hundred years to the future? He's still dead now.”

“Kennedy will lose his mind,” he deadpans, “I suppose it could work.” He says, signalling the end of their conversation.

Ares and the Doctor tries to make the most of the rest of the day, although they were held up for a few moments by the cops for questioning. After that, they had ice cream as they watched people in the park. Arista’s cone was dumped in a cup.

“I bet,” Ares said between licks, “Those two did it.” She pointed her snout at a random couple. The Doctor laughs.

“Nah. For my money,” the Doctor nodded towards a boy who was throwing pebbles in the pond, “It's him. Got potential sniper there.”

“Hey, how come no one's running away from the big Bad Wolf? I thought that might cause panic among the crowd.”

“Ah. Your collar chip,” he pointed, “Doubles as a perception filter. Unless they know you're a big dog, you just look like a husky to them.”

“What, like an illusion?”

“Hmm.”

“Cool.”

Chapter Text

It happened on the seventh month, four months after they found out what she really was. The Doctor accidentally landed them in a Venusian continent. Or what would be a Venusian continent. It was in the early days, which unfortunately meant tribal cults. Which meant sacrificial lambs.

The tribe had been hospitable at first. They invited the Doctor— in extension, his pet, to partake in the feast. There was dancing and drinking, and then nothing. When the Doctor and Ares came to it, they were shackled to the bottom of a well.

“Oh god,” Ares moaned, “They're planning to drown us.”

“Yeah, I got that. Thanks,” The Doctor rolled his eyes. He reached into his pocket for his sonic screwdriver and released them from the shackles, “All we've got to do is stay afloat until the water rises.”

“Easy for you! This body's center of gravity is lopsided. I'll have to continue wiggling to keep up,” She complains as she shivered, “Aren’t you cold?”

“Nah. I've got a naturally lower body temperature,” he says, “You?”

“Just a little.”

It must have been a few hours now, and the sun has begun to rise. Ares was beginning to feel exhausted and her paws were no longer touching the ground. She was paddling around the well to keep herself up on the surface. She remembered wishing she was a human right then so she could just float on her back.

Then her hair was falling over her face.

“Huh?” she made a noise, wiggle her head to move her hair away from her face.

“Ares?” the Doctor called, making her turn to him. That was when she saw a hand. She almost swam away so fast, until she realized it was connected to her body. It was her hand!

“Oh my god!” she exclaimed, admiring her fur-free arms, “I'm human again!”

“I can see that!” the Doctor said excitedly, “How did you do that? Was it the well? Don't tell me...”

“No, no. I don't think it's the well,” she denied, unwilling to accept that the sacrificial well had any real power, “I remember wishing I was human right now, would it—Ah!” she ducked underwater, only half her face showing.

“What? What is it? Is there something in the water?” the Doctor asked, seemingly ready to dive under.

“No, no. Don't go under,” Ares instructed putting her hand between them, “Just...Hand over you jacket.”

“Huh?”

“Just do it, Doc.” She insisted, her feet kicking under to keep her floating. The Doctor relutantly tosses her his jacket and she quickly buttons it up.

“What's wrong?” the Doctor asked.

“...I'm naked.” She admits in a whisper.

“Oh.” He quickly turns his head away from her, his ears reddening. From the cold or something else, Ares wasn’t sure.

Given that she was significantly smaller than the Doctor, his jacket was slightly bigger than her and fell a little over the middle of her thighs. She tethers herself to a brick that was sticking out from the walls and kept her body prone. She looks over to find the that the Doctor had copied her, wiggling his arms to paddle around. She catches his eye, and it sends them both into fits of giggles until they're both laughing.

“Oh, god!” she gasps, “We’re like otters.”

“You look ridiculous.” He replied, splashing water onto her face.

“Have you seen yourself? You look like a squid!” she cackled. She sneezed, “Oh.”

“We’re about a meter or two, far from the surface,” the Doctor was upright again, “How do you feel about climbing?” Ares pulled a face at that.

“Haven't you got some sticky-mabobs in these?” she sighed, digging through the pockets of his jacket, “Yeah, alright.”

They climbed the bricks sticking out from the wall. The Doctor led and Ares followed the rocks he gripped. Half an hour later, the Doctor was helping pull her up to the edge as she pathetically wiggled up like a worm. Once more than half of her body mass had made it to the grassy surface, she lets out a loud sigh.

“Fucking catch me do that again,” she remarks, panting as she rolled to her back, “Where's the TARDIS?”

“10 minutes away.” He says, turning his sonic in the air. He offers her his hands which she gladly takes, pulling herself up. She almost doubles over once she stands on her two feet.

“Oh, legs! Sleeping,” she exclaims, leaning against the Doctor, as she warmed them up, “Legs. Gotta get used to that again.” The Doctor only chuckles.

“You're so small now! Bite-sized.” He teased.

“Oi!” she glares at him. She slowly tests her walking.

“Good?”

“Very much, thanks.”

The sun had risen fully now. It helps very little with the cold that was blowing against her cheek. She sneezes a couple more times before they reaches the TARDIS. She almost melted through the floor with how warm the inside felt.

“Right. You get on with a bath,” the Doctor says, zooming ‘round the console, most likely flying them off the continent, “Medbay after.” Ares makes a salute as she dredged towards her room. She's delighted to find her wardrobe filled with undergarments and other clothes. She pick out black tank-top and a blue plaid button-up, paired with a set of thick black joggers. She dries her black hair that fell under her waist with a towel.

Once she's warm enough, refreshed, and dry, she meets the Doctor in the medbay. He was wearing a new jumper and a pair of pajama, with a towel witting on his head.

“Damn, you actually have other clothes?” she joked, causing the Doctor to make a face at her. He pats at the MedBed as he tosses his towel on some other corner of the room. The Doctor does all the common screen tests for her blood.

“So?” she prompts.

“Aside from your high sugar levels,” he holds a stethoscope as he motions for her to remove the plaid, “Both hearts beating normally. You're all clear.”

“What?” Ares placed a hand on top of her chest, “Two hearts? Oh...that's new.”

“It's probably because of the time storm, triggered for your physiological change,” he speculated, “Or you were under a perception filter before.”

“But that would be bad. I've been to doctors, they'd have known, right?” the Doctor shook his head.

“Not if it's aliens tech.” He says.

“Why not? The med-dep would have figured out about those perception filters with how much aliens orbited Earth in the mid 21st,” she says, “When I say Earth, I mean London. Like honestly, it's an extraterrestrial hotspot. Every Christmas, there's something happening with the palace or whatever. Me an' my friends made a drinking game out of it one time, we almost ended up with alcohol poisoning.”

“...point taken,” he shook his head in amusement, “Well, then it's most likely because of the storm that dropped you. Your body will start to change.”

“Right. But seriously,” she said, wearing her over shirt again, “What's with London and aliens? London isn’t even that big. I mean, I'd understand if it was Australia or Greenland, those are very discernible continents. But fucking London? What, does  Buckingham have a batlight or something?”

“Might be,” the Doctor agreed, “The Queen could be batman for all we know.” Ares snort.

“I just imagined Queen Kate as a night crime-fighting vigilante.”

Chapter Text

Ares and the Doctor figured out how to trigger her transformation.  Apparently, it was as easy as a wish. Which meant, she could change forms to and back like a snap. That was plenty helpful when they were being chased by an alien version of an elephant. Although it was the size of a tiger, color green, and had ram horns. She briefly wondered if it was an alien descent of a dinosaur. They were being chased because the Doctor pointed his sonic screwdriver at it and spooked the animal. Fortunately, Ares transformed into a wolf and scared it away. She did end up ripping her clothes in the process so she waited until they were back in the TARDIS to change back.

“Oh, for god's sake! Doctor!” she shouted as she found her way to the console on shaky ground, “Would it kill you to fly her properly?”

“Probably, yeah!” he quipped back with a massive grin on his face, “We're going to London. Dress warm.”

One of the things that Ares appreciates as a humanoid now, is dressing up. Being a dog leaves little reason to wear clothes, she often whined about not being able to take advantage of the Doctor's department store wardrobe as a wolf. Now though, she gets to dress. For example, today she's wearing a short, black, sleeveless jumpsuit that zips in the front. For whatever reason the Doctor would ever wear one, none of her business.

“I’ll find that manual one day,” she promised, grabbing her long princess coat from the clothes’ hanger, “Trouble?”

“Alien.”

“See? Do you know how long we can knock about before we wound up back to London for some Alien activity? 2 weeks.”

“Ares, I'm telling you,” he says with an exasperated amusement, “Britain isn't trying to monopolize the ‘Alien Industry'.”

“Should I listen to you? You English man?” she teased, opening the doors to the outside, “When are we?” the Doctor brought his watch up.

“2005. Around early March,” he replies, locking the doors behind him, “By the way, you should have this.” He tosses the key over to her, which she deftly caught.

“The key?”

“Hmm. Figured you ought to have one. How long have we been travelling together? Six? Eight month?” he tucked his hands behind him, “I've been meaning to give you one since you came aboard but I wasn’t sure how...with you being a wolf then.”

“Aww, thanks, Doc! I'll hold on to this,” She winked, before tucking the key into her coat, “What’s happened?”

“Living plastic,” he answered, “The Nestene Consciousness.”

“When you say plastic, do you mean pre-existing plastic going ham,” she asked, “Or new plastic?”

“Both. They can mimic anything, and they've been here for a long time, waiting,” he explains, “They'll be in every plastic now.”

“Every plastic?” she repeated, “Doctor, are they...malicious?”

“Entitled,  more like.”

“Okay. What do they want though?” Ares asked, popping a strawberry lollipop into her mouth, “Pop?” she offered to the Doctor, who only shook his head.

“Well, it loves the Earth. The pollution, feeds off from it. But it's not too fond of the human race, I think.”

“Are we...establishing a liaison between the Humans and Nestene Consciousness? Are we diplomats? Ambassadors? Sounds like responsibility but I'll take it!” the Doctor laughs at her speculation, before pulling her towards the entrance of a department store. Ares reads the word ‘Henricks' on the banner.

“Are the Nestene here? I mean, there's lots of plastic here, I'll give you that,” she raised her brows, “Just thought the plastic uprising would start somewhere more...sophisticated.”

“Oh yeah? Where?” the Doctor raised his brows in amusement.

“Oh, you know. Plastic dumpsites in the Philippines. Considering we're third leading worldwide,” she said rather smugly—an odd thing to be smug about, “Hah! The ‘Basura Monster' lore goes hard with that one.” The Doctor snorts but doesn’t say anything otherwise, “So, what are we going to do here?”

“This!” the Doctor brandishes a makeshift bomb from his pocket, and Ares gives him a horrified look. She follows him in silence for a few moments as they hop into the lift, her mouth opening and closing for nothing.

“We’re blowing up this building?!” she suddenly bursts, making the Doctor jump in surprise, “Dude!”

“What?”

“You said ‘Time and Space'. I didn't sign up for war crimes and terrorism!” she said in panic.

“Relax. It's totally safe. Besides,” he pulls out his wallet, “I'm totally authorised by the government. See? ‘Bomb specialist, the Doctor.’ ” Ares grabs the wallet and smacks it on his arm.

“It's blank, you idiot!”

“Really?” he looks back into the wallet with a huge grin, “Fantastic! You are!”

“Oi!” she snaps him back to focus, “We're not just blowing up a building! What about the people inside? Or compensation? I'm not getting sued before I'm born!”

“We're not going to get into trouble!” he insists, “Look, have you heard of UNIT? I know that lot, I'll give them a call later, make them fix the mess after. It's taken care of.” Ares stares at him with her jaw slacked.

“Good god, you're serious!” she suddenly laughs.

“I am so serious!” he says indignantly.

“A government man! You're blue collared!” she laughs some more as they exit the lift.

“Freelance.” He grumbles. He tries to walk past her when she stops him with a tug on his jacket.

“No, hang on,” she says, “Call ‘em first. Forewarning.”

“No phone.”

“Figure something out! No phone call, no boom.” She says, taking the bomb from his pocket. The Doctor rolls his eyes, half in amusement, half in annoyance.

“Give me your phone.” He demands, and just then he sees a familiar glint in Ares’ eyes that makes him groan.

“What's the magic word?” she asks teasingly, already reaching for her phone.

“Please.” He begrudgingly drawls out.

“It's actually ‘Strawberry.’ Nice try though,” She grins annoyingly, handing her a Galaxy Flip 20. He points the sonic at it, before he goes dialling, “What d'you do that for?” he shushes her rather rudely before talking away into the phone. Ares goes back to observing the basement they had landed off to, and realized just how outnumbered they were by the sheer amount of mannequins that were stored down there. She jumps at the sound of a door closing, and a voice filtering off.

“Wilson!” a girl calls out. Just in time, the Doctor finishes his call and drops her phone into her pocket.

“Who’s that then?” he asks.

“An employee probably,” Ares infers, “Look, there's at least two other people in this building. Let's do a sweep first, then blow up the building.” She suggests.

“Yeah, alright.” He rummaged through his pockets, pulling out a disk, and sticking it onto the floor.

“What's that then? Sweeper 2000?” she asked half jokingly.

“Close enough,” the device beeps, one red dot, one green, and two blue ones, “There. That's us, the blue ones.”

“What about the red one?” she points at the red dot that appeared farthest from them, “That green one, that's the girl right? Our dots' moving that direction. The Red one must be that ‘Wilson'. Why is he red? Is it a gender thing? But we're the same. I'm guessing that's cause we've got the same sort of physiology.”

“Right. Red's dead.” He grimaces.

“Oh.” She only pressed her lips in a thin line in reply.

“You okay?” he asks.

“Yeah...Not exactly a new concept to me. Still, wish we'd been earlier,” she frowns, “Come on, green's about as clueless as you!” she drags him towards the direction of where the girl was in hysterics. 

They reached the girl relatively fast. Quite right too, since she was nearly to be mauled by the plastic mannequins. Ares rushed to the girl's side and took her hand.

“Run!” she yelled as she dragged the girl through the halls, towards the Doctor, who was holding the lift open. Once they all filed in, the Doctor sonics the doors and it slams shut, but not without a plastic arm making it through. The Doctor pulls it off.

“You ripped his arm off!” the girl exclaims, catching her breathe. The Doctor tosses the arm towards the girl who looks like she wants to let out a horrified scream.

“It's plastic. Didn’t even hurt.” Ares reassured the girl, although she glanced at the Doctor for confirmation. 

“Nice trick!” the girl replied, lacking enthusiasm as she inspected the arm,

“Who are they then, student? Is it a students thing or something?”

“Why'd you say students?” Ares asked with genuine interest. She was practically vibrating with anxious energy from the lack of action in the lift.

“I don't know.” The girl shrugged.

“Well, you said it,” the Doctor rebutted, “Why students?”

“‘Cos to get that many people dressed up and being silly, they got to be students.” She argues.

“Ah. Makes sense,” Ares smiled, “Good job."

“Thanks.” The girl said, unsure of what else to say.

“They’re not students.” The Doctor says with a grim face.

“Whoever they are, when Wilson finds them, he’s going to call the police.”

“Who’s Wilson?” Ares asked.

“Chief electrician.” 

“Wilson’s dead.” The Doctor delivered, just as the lift dings and opened its doors. Ares drags the girl out with her as the Doctor moved them a bit away.

“That's just not funny, that's sick!” the girl exclaimed.

“Mind your eyes, dear,” Ares turned her away as the Doctor soniced the panel, rendering the lift stuck on the ground floor. The Doctor rushes off. Ares ushers the girl to follow him, as she keeps a lookout from the back. The Doctor finds the exit while the girl continues to question them.

“I said, who are they?” 

“They’re made of plastic. Living plastic creatures.” Ares summed up.

"They’re being controlled by a relay device in the roof, which would be a great big problem if I didn’t have this,” the Doctor says, waving the makeshift bomb that he pocketed from Ares earlier when he returned her phone, “A bargain,” he says when Ares glares at him, “So, we're going to go up there and blow them up, and we might as well die in the process, but don’t worry about us. No, you go home. Go on. Go and have your lovely beans on toast. Don’t tell anyone about this, because if you do, you’ll get them killed.” He says, shutting the door behind him, before opening it once more.

“I’m the Doctor, by the way, this is Ares. What’s your name?”

“Rose.” The girl replies.

“Nice to meet you, Rose. Run for your life!” he says last before running off again with Ares who comments on his dramatics.

“Hey, hey, Ares!” the Doctor yells excitedly as enters the TARDIS, toeing his shoes off to one side, “Guess who I met today?” 

“James Bond?” she jokes as she carried off used books towards the library trolley she found in the Storage room. 

“What? No,” he frowns, “Remember Rose? From the store? Last night, talks a lot, pink.” 

“Oh, yeah! Mannequin girl. Where'd you meet her?” Ares asks. 

“In her flat! Hah!” he grins, “The plastics tracked her. And then this,” he slaps the plastic arm he'd been holding, “tried to choke us to death. Don't worry, I turned it off now.” 

“We've got to work with your perception of okay,” she rolls her eyes, “We can track their secret lair with that?” 

“Maybe,” he sets it upon the telepathic circuit and the TARDIS launches herself through the vortex, “There we are!” 

“A little warning next time!” Ares yells, as she picks herself up from the floor. 

“We're close, come on!” he hurried, although they took a minute to put their shoes on by the door. They landed at the back of a diner. They snuck in through the staff door and looked around for anything out of the ordinary.  

“Oh, look. 10 o'clock's pretty shiny to me.” She tugged at his jacket, making him look the other direction.  

“That's her! Rose.” The Doctor grabs a bottle from the winery and walked up to the couple. He motions for Ares to stay behind. Things escalated very quickly. Rose's boyfriend attempted to lunch the Doctor, to which he retaliated by popping the cork into his head. Seeing as Rose went ahead to pull the fire alarm, Ares assisted everyone else into leaving the vicinity. She quickly phones the cops and first responders as she's running after the Doctor—who has a plastic head on his arm now— and Rose towards the kitchens and ‘round the backdoors. 

“Hurry up! Use the tube thing.” Rose yelled at the Doctor. 

“This? It’s a Sonic Screwdriver,” he says, “Nah. Tell you what, let's get in here.” The Doctor disappears into the TARDIS, leaving poor Rose to comprehend that bit of information.  

“You can’t hide inside a wooden box. It’s going to get us!” Rose shouts, “Doctor!”  

Ares makes the decision for her and pulls her into the TARDIS. Rose stops by the threshold dumbly, while Ares shrugs off her sneaker and walks up to the Doctor. 

“What took you so long?” he asked in mock-annoyance. 

“Had to call the first responders.” She says, waving her phone in the air. 

“Oh. Good job then!” 

Ever since the Doctor did some magic science to her phone, she's been able to phone anyone anytime. That means that she has talked to her brother at least once to let him know that she’s alive. 

Ares noticed Rose leaving the TARDIS then rushing back in. 

“It’s going to follow us!” Rose exclaim, to which the Doctor scoffs. 

“The assembled hordes of Genghis Khan couldn’t get through that door, and believe me, they’ve tried. Now, shut up a minute.” Ares rolls her eyes as she tapped his shoe with her socked foot. The Doctor toes them off, absentmindedly, tossing them over to the captain chair. 

“Shoes off, Rose. Or you stay by the door." Ares said, moving the books she had been cleaning up earlier towards the stairs.  

“You see, the arm was too simple, but the head’s perfect. I can use it to trace the signal back to the original source,” the Doctor rambled, before facing the girl, “Right. Where do you want to start?” 

“Er, the inside’s bigger than the outside?” Rose said, as if she were unsure if it was real or she was simply having a bad hallucination. 

“Yes.” 

“It’s alien.” 

“Yeah.” 

“Are you alien?” 

“Yes. Is that all right?” the Doctor sounded a little guarded, trying not to show any vulnerability. 

“Yeah.” Rose replied without any real conviction, as if she hasn't really thought about it. Not that anyone would blame her. ‘ Aliens, am I right?’  

Anyways, the Doctor looked rather relieved by that. 

“It’s called the Tardis, this thing. T A R D I S. That’s Time And Relative Dimension In Space.” Rose bursts into tears. 

“That’s okay. Culture shock. Happens to the best of us.” The Doctor looked at Ares as if to ask help. ‘ Human. Crying. Your department.’ To which Ares responded by raising a brow at him, and mimicked the sound of her hearts beating on the console. 

“Did they kill him? Mickey? Did they kill Mickey? Is he dead?” the girl cried. Instantly, Ares was at her side, awkwardly patting her back until she leaned over to her.  

“Oh. I didn’t think of that.” The Doctor admitted. 

“He’s my boyfriend,” she glared at him, “You pulled off his head. They copied him and you didn’t even think? And now you’re just going to let him melt?” 

“Melt?” Both the Doctor and Ares turned towards the console to see a rapidly melting head on the telepathic circuit. The Doctor launches to action, jumping around the console. The TARDIS jolts and Ares grips at the railings, pulling Rose to do the same. 

“What’re you doing?” Rose asked. 

“Following the signal. It’s fading,” he groaned, “Wait a minute, I’ve got it. No, no, no, no, no, no, no! Almost there. Almost there. Here we go!” the Doctor grabs his shoes and hops towards the door as soon as the TARDIS stops. He struggles to put on his shoe as he chases after the signal. Ares half-slipped her shoe on before stumbling through the doors. 

“What happened? Are we there?” Ares asked, looking around to find themselves on a bridge. 

“No. I got so close and the signal cut off!” he groans in frustration. He stomped his foot like a petulant child, kicking dust. It made Ares giggle despite their current situation. 

“We've moved. Does it fly?” Rose asked, appearing behind them 
"Disappears there and reappears here. You wouldn't understand.” The Doctor responded, rather patronizingly that he earned a smack to his back from Ares who wore a warning smile. 

“What the Doctor means to say, is that the TARDIS is a complex machine, even I have trouble grasping the concept at times, and that we should maybe save that subject during a less exciting time. Yeah?”  

“If we're somewhere else, what about that headless thing? It's still on the loose.” sensing that she would soon get an answer from God than the Doctor give a straight answer, Rose turned to Ares. 

“It melted with the head. Probably. Hopefully.” Ares guessed. Suddenly, Rose got the feeling that her life was in the hands of idiots. 

“Are you going to witter on all night?” The Doctor commented, irritation evident on his face. Rose ignored it, while Ares elbowed him. 

“I'll have to tell his mother,” Rose cried, “ Mickey . I'll have to tell his mother he's dead, and you just went and forgot him, again! You were right, you are alien.” she accused him when he looked at her with confusion. 

“Look,” the Doctor rolled his eyes, “if I did forget some kid called Mickey–” 

“Yeah, he's not a kid.” Rose interjected, which was dutifully ignored by the Doctor. 

“It's because I'm trying to save the life of every stupid ape blundering on top of this planet, all right?” 

“All right!” Responded the girl with an equally irritated tone. 

“Yes, it is!” 

They both huffed and quieted for a while. Rose and the Doctor were almost perfect mirror of each other, if only missing the petulant stomping of feet. One was young adult girl, and the other was a hundreds of years-old man –it’s quite hard to tell them apart.  

Ares, for her part, was busy calculating the trajectory of the signal they had been following. Not that she had gotten anywhere, but it kept her mind off the nervousness she felt while she waited for her two companions to calm down. She figured that one of them at least had to be level-headed at the moment. 

“If you are an alien, how comes you sound like you're from the North?” finally, Rose spoke. An olive branch. 

“Lots of planets have a north.” the Doctor accepted. 

“What's a police public call box?”  

“It's a telephone box from the 1950s. It's a disguise.” 

“Really?” Ares asked this time, “I always thought that she was built like that. You're telling me she’s supposed to blend in?”  

“Yeah, Chameleon Circuit. She’s supposed to disguise herself when we land. Could be a tree, a car.” he explained. 

“...did you break the circuit?” Ares narrowed her eyes at him, hinting at suspicion. The Doctor covers her mouth with his palm and pulled her into his chest, shushing her. Ares rolled her eyes and crossed her arms, still leaning against him as they turned attention to Rose who had a question. 

“Okay...” the girl drawled, “And this, this living plastic. What's it got against us?” Ares’s eyes lit up as she pulled the Doctor’s hand away from her face, one of her arms waving in the air. 

“Oh! Me! I know the answer,” she said, “Right, so get this. Nestene Consciousness wants the pollution. All the smoke, the toxins, all that harmful element is food. That’s why it’s here! Earth, equals dinner. Honestly, if we can work something diplomatic between them, we might find the solution for climate change.”  

“Any way of stopping it?” Rose thought aloud. The Doctor took out a vial from his breast pocket and showed it to the girls.  

“Anti-plastic.” 

“Anti-plastic.” Rose repeated as if not entirely believing it.  

“Anti-plastic.” he confirmed with a grin, “But first I've got to find it. How can you hide something that big in a city this small?” 

“Hold on. Hide what?” asked the girl. 

“The...er, Transmitter?” Ares supplied unsurely, looking at the Doctor for confirmation, who nodded, “Yeah, the Transmitter. To release the signal. Only, I don’t know what it looks like.” 

“What’s it look like?” Rose asked the Doctor this time. 

“Like a transmitter,” he replied wryly, head whirring around as the walked, ”Round and Massive. slap bang in the middle of London. A huge circular metal structure like a dish, like a wheel. Radial. Close to where we're standing. Must be completely invisible––What?” He turned around when he noticed that Rose was looking at something behind him, “What?” 

Ares stood nearer Rose, just as her eye caught what she was staring at. 

“ Oh... not bad, Rose.” she nudged the girl. 

“What?” the Doctor turned around again, still blind, “What is it? What?” he turned to Ares for help, who proceeded to roll her eyes and steer his head to the right direction. 

“Oh.” he grinned, “Fantastic!” 

Chapter Text

“Mickey!” Rose screams as soon as she spots her boyfriend laying by the floor. Ares rushed after her while the Doctor continued to walk towards the great plastic blob, “Doctor, they kept him alive!”  

“Yeah, that was always a possibility.” The Doctor replied without so much as a glance back.  

“You knew and you never said?” Rose cried. 

“Can we keep the domestics outside?”  

“I did tell you.” Ares commented, kneeling beside the boy––Mickey–– a small flashlight on hand, pointing it at his eyes, “Keep still, Mr. Mickey.” 

“W-Who are you?” he turned to Rose, “Rose! That thing, it talks!” 

“It’s fine, the Doctor’s already working on it.” Ares tried to reassure him, only to hear the Doctor telling the angry blob to ‘Kindly, Shunt off’, “Oi! what happened to establishing a liasion?” she screamed to the Doctor, who probably rolled his eyes, but she wouldn’t know for sure with his back turned away from them.

“Oh, don't give me that! It's an invasion, plain and simple.” the Doctor responded to the blob, rather angrily, who in turn, blobbed, “Don't talk about constitutional rights––I am talking! This planet is just starting. These stupid little people have only just learnt how to walk, but they're capable of so much more. I'm asking you on their behalf. Please, just go.” He almost pleads, and for a moment, Ares think that maybe the Doctor had managed to sway them.

“Doctor! Behind you!” Ares yelled as she noticed two plastic mannequins making their way to the Doctor, in a staggering pace. It was useless, as they still got a hold of the Doctor, taking his arm in each of theirs. One of them digs its hand into the Doctor’s pocket and pulls out the Anti-Plastic.

Ares’s eyes widened as she realized where this was going. She needed to get the Humans––Rose and Mickey, she needed to get Rose and Mickey out of here and into safety. She ran back to where Rose and Mickey were sprawled out.

“Mickey, can you stand? Can you walk?” She hoisted him up, supporting him under his arm.

“I–I can walk.” Mickey said, keeping his balance on as he dettached from Ares.

“What’s happening?” Rose asked, leaning against the rails to have a better look.

“They’ve recognized him as a threat. I’ve got to get you both out, come on!” Ares ushered them both, dragging Rose behind her, “Out the way we came in, Rose.”

“Aren’t you gonna help him? You’re leaving him here, all alone?” Rose asked, a pitiful look on her face as she pointed down to the Doctor.

“Obviously not! I’m going to come back with a––” she was cut off by the sound doors opening and the Doctor’s panicked voice from below.

“No. Oh, no. Honestly, no. Yes, that's my ship. That's not true. I should know, I was there. I fought in the war. It wasn't my fault. I couldn't save your world! I couldn't save any of them!” the Doctor insisted.

“What's it doing?!” Rose asked, yelling down.

“It's the TARDIS! The Nestene's identified its superior technology. It's terrified. It's going to the final phase. It's starting the invasion! Get out, Ares, Rose! Just leg it now!”

Ares feels something horrible and something inexplainable form in the pit of her stomach as the autons try to push the Doctor towards the plastic vat. She feels something gutteral scratching at the back of her throat, that it takes so much willpower and control to focus back on what she needed to do.

She drags the two humans towards the TARDIS, opening it with the key the Doctor had given her, and shoved them inside, along with her jacket. As soon as Rose and Mickey were safe inside and out of sight, she slid down the distance between her and the Doctor, shifting into a massive hound, mid step.

“Ares! What are you doing?” Ares let out a vague sound of a howl as she swiped at the autons who were hounding around the Doctor, “Oi! I don’t know what you’re saying, but I do understand you, you know?” she rolled her eyes, just as more Autons came out to attempt in subdueing them.

“There! I’m gonna get that vial, you distract them.” the Doctor pointed at one of the Autons still holding the vial, attempting to run away. Well, as best as it could with stiff legs. 

Ares huffed as the Doctor took off after the lone Auton, the other mannequins climbing her fur. ‘Lazy arse. Lucky Bastard. He just didn’t want to deal with the plastics.’ She thought.

“Just leave him! There's nothing you can do!” She heard Mickey shout. Ares turned her head to find Rose outside the TARDIS, with Mickey cautiously following behind.

“I've got no A Levels, no job, no future,” she hears Rose mutter to herself as she grabs an axe, “But I tell you what I have got. Jericho Street Junior School under 7s gymnastic team. I've got the bronze!” She cuts down the rope holding a long chain against the wall, grabbing a firm hold on it, and swings down towards the direction of the Doctor. She kicks the mannequin holding the vial, and it drops into the vat. The Nestene Conciousness turns blue and all the mannequins stagger to fall.

“Rose!” the Doctor shouts, arms open to catch the girl. He grabs her as she swings back, a steadying arm on her back, “Now, we’re in trouble!” he grins, grabbing her hand as they ran towards the big dog, which the girl has only noticed now.

“What d’you say, Padfoot? Mind getting us up there?” the Doctor asked Ares, who huffed before lowering her back. Rose swears that she saw it roll its eyes at them.

The Doctor’s grin widens as he hoists Rose up onto Ares’s back.

“Rose, have you ridden a horse before?” the Doctor asked as he settled behind the girl, who nodded, “Well, this is nothing like that. Come on, Padfoot!”

Rose yelped as the extremely fucking large dog moved, running up the stairs with great manouver that should not be possible for a creature its size. The Doctor was laughing, and she could feel the vibrations of his chest against her back where he is leaned over, with hands in front, gripping onto the dog’s fur. Rose wasn’t sure it was due to the heat of the moment or because of how close she and the Doctor were, but her face might be pink all over.

Mickey saw them coming, and smartly moved deeper into the ship with a terrified look on his face as the extremely fucking giganormous dog barreled through the open doors. For a moment, it looked as if it had been chasing him, until it stopped a few steps away. Mickey sagged in relief, his back against one of the pillars, thinking how he almost pissed himself to death.

The Doctor hopped off Ares, patting her fur for a second, before bouncing around the console. The TARDIS disappears and materialises by a row of shuttered kiosks. He faintly registers that Ares had gone deeper into the TARDIS as soon as Rose had gotten off of her, presumably to replace her now torn-apart clothes. Rose was standing by on one side, holding onto the rails, while Mickey looks just about to keel over. He presses a button opening the door, and Mickey runs out in terror.

Rose follows her boyfriend, phone pressed to her ear while she check on Mickey who was huddled to a corner.

“Fat lot good you were.” she commented to her boyfriend.

“Nestene Conciousness? Easy.” the Doctor says smugly, standing on the TARDIS’s doorway. It makes Rose snort.

“You’d be dead without me. and Ares,” Rose frowned, “Where’d she gone then?”

“Oh, she’s probably earning back all the calories she’s lost today. And yes, we would. Thanky you.” he smiles, “Right then. We’ll be off, I guess...” he hesitates, “Unless, er, I don’t know. You could come with us? This box isn't just a London hopper, you know. It goes anywhere in the universe free of charge.”

Rose hummed thoughtfully. Mickey for his part, whirred his head towards Rose, whom he can’t believe is actually considering it.

“No! Don’t. He’s an alien, he’s a thing!” he throws himself over to Rose and clings to her.

“He’s not invited.” the Doctor said cooly, pointing at Mickey, “What do you think? You could stay here, fill your life with work and food and sleep, or you could go anywhere.” 

“Is it always this dangerous?”

”Yeah.” answered the Doctor, honestly.

“Yeah, I can't. I've er, I've got to go and find my mum and someone's got to look after this stupid lump, so...” Rose excused, shrugging. It made the Doctor pause.

“...Okay. See you around.” He stepped back and let the doors close. he took a deep breath, before walking back to the console and planning their dimaterialization with a sullen face on him. He was too busy sulking to notice Ares, already in new clothes, sitting on the jumpseat and having a greasy meal.

“What did I miss?” She asked through her full mouth, “Sorry, I’m really starving.” she says with an exagerrated groan that makes the Doctor laugh a little.

“I dropped off Rose and Mickey home.” he says.

“Hmm? What’s with the face then?” she raises a brow, “I mean, you always have your stupid face on, but it’s more stupi––Ow! I’m eating! Have some respect!” She gasps dramatically as the Doctor throws her forgotten jacket at her, “Alright, I won’t tease you. What’s up?”

“I asked Rose if she wanted to come with us, and she said ‘No’. I just thought she’d be a good addition. That’s it. nothing else.” he waves her off, but Ares could see how he really felt sad by that rejection.

“Hey.” she wipes her face with a napkin and sets aside her food in favor of comforting him, “We still make a pretty awesome team, don’t we? Still you and me, getting stuck in quicksands and whatnot. Who need’s Rose?” she nudges him as he breaks out into a smile, “Come on, I thought you were going to show me Barcelona?”

“Right! One Barcelona, coming right up, ma’am!”

Chapter Text

Ares stands behind the console, wearing a yellow sundress and a white blazer, her dog-collar looped around her hips like a belt. She looks like she’s pressing random buttons and levers that could potentially hurl them into the end of the universe. The Doctor is absolutely torn on what to do.

“Okay, say again,” she hovers her hand over the red dial, “clockwise to go forward, counterclockwise to go backwards, right?”

“Just so.” the Doctor confirmed. He watched as Ares put her hand on the dial and...nothing, “What?”

“Er...which way’s clockwise?” she asked rather shyly, which makes the Doctor make a face, a mixture of amusement and incredulity.

“To your right.” He says, mimicking the motion.

“Okay. I knew that.” Ares says, unconvincingly, and turns the dial clockwise, “Clockwise, then this button here…and that stick, and this—“ her mutterings were cut off by the Doctor pulling her hand away from the console.

“No! That button would have sent us on a loop.”

“Stop stressing me out!” Ares stomped her foot, “I knew that, I was reaching for that other button. The one that wouldn’t send us on a loop.” She rolled her eyes.

“You know what? Maybe I should just drive.” The Doctor suggested, his hands on her back to stir her away from the console.

“Oi!” She pinched his side, “You said you were gonna teach me. Commit to it, Timeboy.”

“Fine…you didn’t have to pinch me.” He grumbled, as he let her take over again. He silently hovered as he watched her turning levers and pressing gears on the console. The TARDIS shakes a little before it lands with a jolt. Ares puts her hands in the air and slowly backed away from the console as if it was strapped with a bomb.

“So…” she said, “How did I do?”

The Doctor headed for the door, poking his head out a little. He turns back with a grim look on his face.

“…We’re in The Library!” He reveals dramatically, which had Ares jumping for joy.

“We are? I did it!”

“We’re a few decades early than our target date but whatever.” He informed her.

“Oh, shut up.” She bumped him, before running for the doors.

The Library was brimming with people. There was a light chatter, a quiet ambiance that filled the places. Ares could see various aliens walking about, some on all-fours, or on all-sevens.

“So what are we doing in The Library, capital ‘T’ capital ‘L’, the definitive article?” She listed just to be annoying. It makes the Doctor roll his eyes.

“It’s the year 4979 by Earth Calendar, and whoever built this library has been collecting all literature ever written, down to the very first book of Genesis,” the Doctor explained, “I’m thinking, maybe the surviving Werelords have got some entries in here.”

“Would they do that?” Ares asked, pocketing her licorice, “I mean, weren’t they in hiding or something.”

“Might as well try,” he shrugged, “And didn’t you want to go to the library? Might as well take you to The Library.”

“Pfft. Show off.” She comments.

“Killjoy.” he counters.

They looked around for a reception only to find none. One of the visiting members pointed them towards a Node after seeing how lost they looked. Ares barely held together a squeal when the Node produced a flesh face, and even more when it informed  her that it was, in fact, a real face.

“Oh my god. That is…” she paused, her face still screwed with a grimace, “ I don’t want to say disgusting because that sounds offensive, but that is disgusting.”

“Now don’t be rude. It’s the 50th century. Donating a face is like…donating a bench.” The Doctor said, “Try to keep an open mind.”

“Why? So they can donate my face too?” She said incredulously, “I mean, why would you ever want a real, rotting face on a robot? That’s like a bad fucking omen.”

“Rotting? Rassilon, no!” He bursts into quiet giggles, “They didn’t skin the person who owned that face! They just duplicated it. With silicone probably, or whatever synthetic flesh they’ve got.”

“What? Oh.” Ares reddened in the realization that she may have slightly overreacted, “Well, you could have clarified. Thanks.”

The Doctor ruffled her hair with a huge grin on his face, then turned to the node.

“Hello again. We’re looking for books on Werelords, if there are any?”

“There are none under the category ‘Werelords’. Might I suggest books on ‘Werewolves’ based in your interest?”

“That’ll work. Thanks.” The duo followed the Node deeper into the Library. Ares observed the tall shelves, littered with books, that scaled the walls. Some of the books were covered in dust, mostly the bottom ones that were left untouched. The Library sort of looked like it was straight out of the 1800s, with all the mahogany shelves and artistic carvings.

“For something so far out in the future, this is very antique-y. Like victorian or something.” She whispered to the Doctor as the Node left them to their own devices.

“Isn’t it? It’s cozy, I think I’d describe it.” The Doctor agreed, taking the books from her arms, “Most libraries evolve into something like this, ever now. It’s seem that they just can’t help it.”

“Honestly, I’m impressed about the lack of mold. Have they got like special crystals for that or what?”

“Nope. Same old technique.”

They spent the rest of the day and the next half reading almost every single book about wolves and werewolves. Ever since the appearance of her second heart, Ares found herself needing less sleeping than usual. The Doctor said that it was normal for a developing Timelord, so it stands to reason that the same could be said about Werelord.

After the 31st hour mark, Ares declared the research unyielding and suggested that the just focus on finding the surviving Werelords to complete their knowledge of her condition. They stopped by the shop before heading back into the TARDIS.

“I can put this on the fridge.” Ares commented, running her fingers over the fridge magnet from The Library, “and the keychain for my key!”

“You and your souvenirs.” The Doctor rolled his eyes fondly, “Right. Where d’you want to eat?”

“Oh! Somewhere Thai.” She stretched her back with a yawn and collapsed on the jump seat , “and then, I think I’m due for a nap.”

The Doctor gave her a salute and piloted them near the 23rd century. When he turned around to tell Ares that they had landed, he found her curled onto the seat, her knees tucked under her chin as she snored away. The Doctor chuckled, deciding to just let her sleep it off, and carried her into her room. He laid her down gently and slowly onto her bed, knowing how lightly she slept, and removed her heels before carefully draping her duvet up to her chin. He brushed off the framing pieces of her fair away from her face, and then lightly pecked her on the forehead.

“Good night, Ares.” He said when she stirred slightly, turning away from him. He gave her a last fond look, before turning the lights off and closing her bedroom.

Ares is a very light sleeper. Even before she’d gained all these enhanced senses, she’d already struggled with staying asleep. Now, falling asleep, that was a whole other sentence.

However, this leads us to one, very significant development: Ares had woken up while the Doctor carried her back to her room. True to Arista Fashion, she pretended to be asleep. Of course she did, ‘why waste acknowledging that she had woken up when she could just…not. And try to got back to sleep.’

Which brings us to the consequences of her action: Ares can no longer go back to sleep. With her mind now wide awake, she stares at the green ceiling of her room in a daze.

Chapter Text

Ares was laying on the belly against the cold flooring, as she usually does when she is a wolf. She is using a massive piece of sanding paper to file down her nails, after the Doctor had help cut them. She thinks that she smells bananas in the air but she isn’t really certain; she haven’t been to the kitchen since she laid on the floor.  

The Doctor was a few feet away, underneath the console doing god knows what. The TARDIS zaps him a couple of times and Ares hears him utter unfamiliar words that suspiciously sounded like curses. There are a few specks of soot and stain on his cheeks and on his jumper, some of which that he wiped with an otherwise dirty rug that had only helped to spread them around.   

Th e TARDIS starts rattling and throwing them around the room.  

“What’s happening?” Ares grunted as she dug her ––now short–– nails into the grills on the floor.  

“I didn’t do anything!” The Doctor denied, although he got the sense that Ares didn’t fully believe him. ‘ The betrayal. Sometimes, it’s those closest to you, tsk, tsk, tsk .’  

“Well, do you know why She started doing that?” Ares asked.  

“There’s a distress sig––hold on, I’m landing us!” The Doctor jumped around the console, landing the TARDIS with a loud wheeze, “There! there’s some kind of distress signal, it’s drawing the TARDIS off course.” He ran towards the door, only pausing to find that Ares wasn’t following him out. He pokes his head back in, looking for a big dog.  

“Ares? Where d’you go now?” he called out. It was a few minutes of waiting before he got an answer. a pair of sneakers skidded through the halls, followed by the swishing of a long coat.  

“Sorry. Didn’t fancy walking around stark naked.” she joked, locking the door behind her.  

“Better now?” he raised an eyebrow at her minidress.  

“What? What’s wrong with my dress?” she asked, smoothing her clothes.  

“Nothing. Just...” he makes a face, “We might need to run.”   

“I thought so,” she lifted her skirt slightly and pulled down her biker shorts, “ I’m prepared . Girls scout.” the Doctor rolls his eyes, hooking his arms around her as they explored where they landed.  

“What’s this then? A Museum?”  

“Alien Museum. Someone’s got a hobby.” he clarified, pointing at different bits of alien things.  Ares might have once thought the exhibits to be fictional display of some sorts, before she met the Doctor.   

“When and where are we?” she asked, looking around. She saw different artifacts that she could recognize as meteorites, some bits of a broken ship probably, and a green arm that’s been stuff, “Must’ve spent fortunes for these! ––Someone’s got an obsession .”  

“We’re in Utah, North America. Year 2012,” the Doctor adds, “About half a mile underground.”  

“Which is?”  

“Twenty-six thousand feet or so.” the Doctor deadpans.  

“Oh. Okay. It's nice not to be in London for once.” she jokes, “2012...I would have been seven.”  

“Oh, look at you!” the Doctor gets a bit distracted by a machine head.  

“Wossit?” Ares came around him, having a peak at the exhibit.  

“Old friend of mine ––Well, I say friend , I mean enemy. Stuff of nightmares, reduced to an exhibit...” he paused, “I’m getting old.”  

“That’s right, Doc. the first step is always admitting you’re the problem,” teased Arista, patting him on the back, to which he responded by sticking his tongue out, “Is that where the signal’s from then?”  

“Nah. the signal’s alive, calling for help. This is stone dead.” He tapped the glass to seemingly prove a point, instead it triggered a very loud alarm and armed guards appeared from different parts of the hall.  

“Can’t take you anywhere , I swear.” Ares huffed and rolled her eyes.  

The Doctor and Ares walked into an office, with much encouragement from Ms. Goddard, and find a man with a horrible goatee who is listening –– not very interestedly so–– to a young man, who seem to be presenting various items of unknown usage and origin.  

“What does it do?” Goatee asked the younger man, who was holding a tiny lump of metal in his hands. 
“Well, you see the tubes on the side?” he points, “It must be to channel something. I think maybe fuel.”  
“I really wouldn't hold it like that.” the Doctor interrupted, causing Ares to tug him backwards by his jacket, just as Ms. Goddard told him to ‘Shut it.’ Of course, the Doctor refused to back down, and pressed on the matter, “Really, though, that's wrong.”  
 
“Is it dangerous?” the kid asked in concern. 
“No, it just...looks silly.” The Doctor reaches for the lump of metal and guns cock, all raised and aim at him. The goatee hands him the metal item, signalling his men to stand down.  

Now, Ares would have been impressed with the amount of power this man held, if only he’d stop looking at her every now and then like an auction piece to be bought. ‘ Well, alright’, she was still impressed, she just feels an overwhelming urge to punch him in the teeth.  

"You just need to be...” the Doctor gently strokes the item –– not unlike the way he pets Ares’s fur–– and it emits a beautiful note, “... Delicate .”  

“It's a musical instrument.” the goatee concluded.  

“And it's a long way from home.” the Doctor adds, completely smitten by the instrument.  

"Here, let me.” goatee demands, and the Doctor reluctantly gives it back to him. Goatee attempts to play the instrument, but his fingers drag across the surface ungracefully, and it plays a harsh sound.  

"I did say delicate. It reacts to the smallest fingerprint. It needs precision.” the Doctor reminds him. He stands rather proudly when Goatee seemed to get the hang of it, “Very good. Quite the expert.”  

"As are you.” Goatee casually tosses it behind on the floor, and Ares grimaced. Her opinion of the man just keeps plummeting down by the second. "Who exactly are you?”  

“I'm the Doctor. And who are you?”  

“Like you don't know,” the man says incredulously, “ We're hidden away with the most valuable collection of extra-terrestrial artefacts in the world, and you just stumbled in by mistake.”  

“Pretty much sums him up, yeah.” Ares comments under her breath, although she was sure they heard her anyway.  

“The question is, how did you get in? Fifty-three floors down, with your little cat burglar accomplice,” he turns his nasty sights on Ares, looking her up and down as if he hadn’t already done so, “You're quite a collector yourself, she's rather pretty. Chinky.”  

The comment catches both of them off-guard, the Doctor and Ares looked at each other in disbelief, as if to say, ‘ you heard that too?’ Ares plastered her best customer service smile, and heavily contemplated whether or not it would be worth it to lose her finger over flipping the man off.  

“ Thanks a lot.” she replies dryly, with a very exaggerated posh accent  

"Oh, she's English! Hey, little Lord Fauntleroy. Got you a girlfriend.” the man volunteers her to the young man.  

“This is Mister Henry Van Statten.”   

“Yeah? And does his mama love him?” Ares asked bluntly, which prompted the Doctor to cover her mouth with his hand. 'Honestly, with these ridiculous names!'

“Mister Van Statten owns the internet.”  

"You believe that?” Ares asked incredulously, although it’s muffled by the Doctor’s hand, “You can’t own the internet, not fully.”  

“And let's just keep the whole world thinking that way, right kids?” Van Statten replies to Ares, and his eyes linger a little too long, a little too sticky. His attention was pulled again by the Doctor, who inches further in front of Ares.  

“So you're just about an expert in everything except the things in your museum. Anything you don't understand, you lock up.”  

“And you claim greater knowledge?” Van Statten raised a brow.  

“I don't need to make claims, I know how good I am.” the Doctor rises up to the challenge, staring him down.  

“And yet, I captured you,” Van Statten says smugly, “Right next to the Cage. What were you doing down there?”  

“You tell me.”  

“The Cage contains my one living specimen.”  

“And what's that?”  

“Like you don't know.” he laughs dryly.  

“Show me.”  

“You want to see it?” Van Statten says, which makes Ares choke on a spit, trying to hide her laugh.  

“Yeah, Doctor. Don’t you wanna see it?” she whispers, just enough for the Doctor to hear, who shoots her a warning glare.  

She’s gotta admit, she’s impressed ––With the Doctor, of course. To stare down a man who can have you shot with a single motion, in an enclosed room, with all guns pointed at you...and then demand from him? Pretty ballsy move.  

“Goddard, inform the Cage we're heading down.” Van Statten turns to the kid, “You, English. Look after the girl. Go and canoodle or spoon or whatever it is you British do. And you, Doctor with no name, come and see my pet.” Van Statten beckons the Doctor as he leaves the room with his secretary and his guards. Before the Doctor could follow, Ares tugs his jacket, calling for his attention.  

“Doctor, you’re very brave,” she prefaced, “...And equally stupid. And if you die, that will be what your gravestone will say.” ‘ A.K.A. Don’t be stupid and get killed.’  

“ Yes ma’am!” he mocks a salute to her, “Go easy on the kid.” He says, before turning to follow Van Statten.  

“ Never .” she gasps in offense, as she watchers his retreating back.  

Chapter Text

The Doctor has known Ares all of nine months, and suffice to say that he knows a lot about her. He knows that she has a sweet tooth. He knows that she prefers beef than pork. Ares had told him about a scar she has on her middle toe. He can name every single cousin she has, and probably their girlfriends and boyfriends. 

The point is, Ares talks a lot. Perhaps, it’s because she wasn’t able to hold proper conversation for the last – apparently – thirty years or so of her life, ( sometimes, she does talk like she’s having the very first conversation in her life, in the Doctor’s humble opinion ), but she has a lot to say. It could be as simple as how stupid a show about time travel had been ( a recent development) , or chasing after what particular smell or taste a food reminds her off (something she does very accurately ), or her random deep thoughts that she wishes to... impart with him. 

Ares is also, in the Doctor’s humble opinion , Very Mean. Not Hurtful Mean. Just, Mean. She likes to tease him about his piloting skills, or the way he dresses, or about his ears that she knows he’s bothered about. Sometimes, he likes to bite back and tease her about her short legs. Sometimes, he thinks it’s why she does it.  

She had taken to name calling. At first, the Doctor had been offended, when she called him “Ew”. ‘ I mean, I get I’m not conventionally attractive, but ouch.’ He had thought. Until she had heard her talking about her cousin –– whom the Doctor admits, is very handsome–– and calling him ugly, fondly. If that were possible. It started to become apparent it him that Ares just does not know how to express her feelings like a normal person.  

But the Doctor also knows about how she has sensitive heels ( a fact that she neither told him, nor seem to realize), and that she prefers her meals divided into easily discernible characteristics, and that she goes into his room when he gets nightmares so she can bring him back. 

Oh, yeah. He knows . 

Of course, he knows! It’s his TARDIS, and he knows everything that happens on his ship...And he might have awoken one time, when Ares had fallen asleep with her hands through his hair. 

Point is! The Doctor knows Ares. She can be calm and stressed, collected and a mess, smart and stupid. All at the same fucking time . That’s the thing with Ares, she's all about facades, she doesn’t show her weakness. Not because she thinks it’s not something she should have, she just thinks it’s irrelevant, not helping . ‘ Get out alive, fall apart later’ . Sometimes, it’s really hard to know how she really feels at times. 

Which is why, he feels his breathing stop at the sound of her broken, scared , trembling voice. 

“Doctor! I–I touched the thing! It ki–killed the guy in there, what do I do?” even scared, Ares was trying not to lose track of what’s important: “ What do I do? How do I save these people? How can I help?”  

“ Get out of there now, Ares!” He shouts over the monitor. He sees her nod shakily, before she’s dragging the kid-genius with her. He doesn’t get updates from her aside from shouts over the comm, someone telling a guard to assist the civilians. 

The Doctor plays the waiting game. He waits when the Dalek slaughters everyone on its way, when the commander ignores his words and inevitably dies in battle with many more, when the Dalek speaks to him. 

“We’ve got vision.” Goddard informs him. 

“It wants us to see.” They watch as the Dalek sets off the fire alarms and sprinklers, before efficiently electrocuting every single person on field. They hear the screams of the commander, commanding his men to fall back, all for naught. 

“ I will speak only to the Doctor.” the Dalek’s electronic voice filters through the speakers. The Doctor only glares at it, not bothering to answer.  

“I fed off the DNA of Arista Martinez. She regenerated me.” If that statement sent goosebumps on the back of his neck, the Doctor didn’t show it. He doesn’t feel even a little bit sorry when he tells it to rid the universe of itself, and if he felt disgusted because a tiny part of him agreed that he would make a good Dalek, that was between him and his monstrous mind. 

The screen cuts off, and the Doctor makes a decision. Not the best decision, not remotely a good one , but it’s the one he makes. He tells Van Statten to close the vaults, and for a second, he sees orange skies and the setting of the suns on the south. 

“I can leech off the ground defences, feed it to the bulkheads,” Van Statten enthusiastically types on the computer, “God, it’s been years since I had to work this fast!” 

“Are you enjoying this?!” the Doctor barks at him. Any more irritations he had about the man had been put aside when Goddard pointed out that Ares was still down there, being chased by the Dalek.  

“What ?” Ares’s panicked voice came through the phone. 

“Where are you?” 

“Level forty-nine, why? ”  

“You’ve got to keep moving. The vault’s being sealed off up at level forty-six.” He tells her as calmly as he manages. 

“We’ve go to get to level forty-six!” he hears her distantly yelling on the other side of the line, “ Can’t you stop them from closing?”  

“ I’m the one closing them. I can’t wait, there’s just enough time before the Dalek absorbs all the power. Now, for god’s sakes, run !” 

And it’s back to waiting. Waiting if it would work. Waiting if Ares can get there in time. Waiting, perhaps, for the Dalek to end them all. But the Doctor waits. 

He hears Ares huffing from the other line. The phone gets passed to a woman, the Doctor guesses it’s the guard who escorted her and the kid. He hears Ares urging the two to run, and for a moment, his hearts skip a beat, fearing the worst had happened. Until the kid started screaming and bullets were fired. 

“There’s a wolf! A gigantic, wolf! It's going to eat us!” He hears the kid scream, and for a second, the Doctor forgets their impending doom at the hands of a Dalek, in lieu of laughing at the ridiculousness of the situation.  

The Doctor hears a cry, the phone being dropped, and the bulkhead closing.  

“Ares!” he calls, “Answer me, Ares! Did you make it?” he heard padding of footsteps nearby, a cloth being dragged on the floor, before the phone was picked up. 

“Sorry. I didn’t fit. ”  

Chapter Text

“So…Adam?” Ares tested the name on her tongue, “How d’you end up here? You look young.” She asked him, looking around his workshop. It was filled with knickknacks of metal and glowing things—which she dutifully sashayed away from. It was almost like the Doctor’s mess of a room, only, Adam’s were less dangerous. Or more. Depends on who’s looking through them.  

“Van Statten has agents around the world, looking for geniuses to recruit.” His chest seemed to oddly puff out in pride, as he says.  

“Ah . Genius, are you?” Ares clicked her fingers into guns, pointing at him with a teasing smile.  

“Sorry but yeah. I can’t help it,” he says. Ares gets the sense that he’s not at all sorry, nor shy about it anyway, “I was born clever. When I was eight, I logged into the US Defense System and nearly caused World War three.”  

“Wahey! Do we have our hands on the real-life Tony Stark here, or what?” She joked, “Must’ve been a whole lot of trouble, then?”  

“Well, you should have been there to see them running about. Fantastic!” Ares snorts at that.  

“God, you sound like the Doctor.” She rolls her eyes.  

“Are you and him…” Adam tentatively asked. The way he phrased it confused Ares, to which she cocked an eyebrow in confusion, “…you know. Together ?”  

“Oh! No. Gosh, we’re not.” Her face flushed in embarrassment, partly because the kid had thought that she and the Doctor might be… involved , partly because she hadn’t even considered that he was asking about it. Christ, her age is showing .  

“Good.”   

“Why is that good?” Her brows furrowed. Now that the subject was broached, she can’t help but feel like she knows where his mind had gone to. ‘ She doesn’t want to seem too presumptuous, but she is pretty cute .’  

“It just is.” He says, an air of smugness to his words.  

" Right ...” she says unbelievingly, “Well, why aren’t you down there?”  

“I did ask, but he keeps it to himself,” Adam seemed to want to impress her though, “Although, if you’re a genius, it doesn’t take long to patch through the on-comm. System."  

“Let’s have a look then!” she pats his back encouragingly as he types away onto the little monitor. He is right , he didn’t take long to connect them onto a visual feed. Ares wasn't sure if she’d had rather, she just didn’t see it, because now, there was a sense of dread that filled her gut.  

“They’re torturing it! Where did they take the Doctor?” she barked, knowing that if the Doctor had seen the creature’s state, he would have, no doubt , tried to help it out. And if it’s still in its cage, then God knows what’s happened to the Doctor.  

“I don’t know!” Adam raised his arms in surrender, seeing how the girl had been as prepared to rip anyone in her way to shreds. She is standing a good measure away from him, but by God , did he feel suffocating. Her hands were not curled in fists, but flexing in a way that tells him that she should step away further to avoid a scratched face.  

“Take me down there, now!” her tone left nothing to be discussed, and it almost embarrassed Adam to say how fast he scurried away to do as she says. ‘ They may not be together, but may God help anyone to come between them.’ He thought.  

And if the Doctor is in anyway harmed, then may God rest their poor, stupid souls.  

“ Sorry. I didn’t fit. ”  

The Doctor almost drops the phone in his hand. ‘ Sorry. I didn’t fit.’ The phrase replays like a broken record in his mind. 

‘Sorry. I didn’t fit.’  

‘Sorry. I didn’t fit.’  

‘Sorry. I didn’t f––  

His mind had blanked, too quiet, too empty, with one sound loud and clear, echoing over, and over, and over again , torturing him. The words that would haunt him. It was his fault again. His mistake again. His decision, his choice, it had put Ares in danger. He had put her in a situation that had made well and truly afraid, and dead.  

‘Sorry. I didn’t fit.’  

Ares had apologized, even when she’s facing her impending end. And he did this to her. The Doctor. The Healer. The Monster. The one who burns everything he touches. The one who ruins everything he holds. The Fucking Warrior whose hands are bloodied by millions of innocent people. He should have been the one down there, dying, paying for his sins. Not Ares. Not Mean, Beautiful, Kind, Ares. She does not deserve it.  

‘ Sorry. I didn’t fit.’

‘Sorry. I didn’t fit.’

‘Sorry. I didn––”

“Hey.” came a shaking voice from the line, breaking him out of his self-pity, “I did it, by the way. Ate the last banana from the kitchen.” The Doctor choked on a laugh. 

“...I know that.” he says, playing along, like they aren’t waiting for death.

“Couldn’t help it, it tasted better than the ones back home,” she passes a shaky breath, as if she were holding back her tears, “Do you think, I’d regenerate into a slightly older lady? Well, I’ll just have to catch up with you later.” To regenerate. That was wishful, hopeful thinking. Hoping that the Dalek would let her. He knows. And so does she.  

“Mayb–” the Doctor choked, “–Maybe, you should hope for longer legs, instead.” 

“Har, har...” she replies, although it lacks her usual sarcastic tone, “...Listen. and Listen carefully because I’ll only say this once.” there was a gasp on the other line, “I don’t blame you. I don’t, so neither should you. Because I made a choice, and that is out of your control. So when you tell your friends about me, tell them...tell them that I was brave. And that I made a stupid choice. And it’s not your fault. Best of times, Doctor”

Before he could even argue, before he could even respond, the line clicked and the call was cut. But that doesn’t stop the occupants of the room to flinch when a loud zap collided with the bulkhead. and He knows. He always knows.

“Exterminate!”   

Chapter Text

There was a terrifying expression on Ares’s face, one that would make even the mightiest of hero tuck their tails and run the other way. There was a heavy sense of dread with every step she took towards the cage. Anyone who had the unfortunate to witness her at the moment would have described her as a ‘Rabid animal in search of a prey’.  

“Don’t get too–” Adam tried to warn her but she snarled, even at him.  

“I’ll do what I want!” She took a deep breath, rolling her shoulders back as she tries calms down a little. She takes a cautionary step towards the creature, quietly observing it. Once she was at a respectable distance, only a few feet away from it, she kneels down.  

“Hi. I’m Arista Martinez,” as she was speaking, she can’t help but think that maybe, the Doctor hadn’t been at all foolish at the way he had once approached her in the woods, “I’m here to help. I’m with a friend, he was here earlier, the Doctor. They took him. Are you in pain?”  

“ Yes.”  

“Adam, get me some clean gloves.” she snapped her fingers to the kid, who immediately followed. Soon, there was a pair of rubber gloves on her hands. ‘Not the best, but this’ll have to.’ “Is it alright, if I checked you over?” The metal creature didn’t respond, but it’s eyestalk bobbed, which she took as a yes.  

“I am in pain.” It said, as Ares inspected it’s outer-casing, “They torture me, yet they still fear me...Do you fear me?” the question caught her off-guard.  

“Why would I fear you?” the metal creature didn’t reply, “Do you have a name?”  

“...I am a Dalek.”    

“Well, Dalek, we’re getting out of here,” She says, tossing the gloves to a far corner as she stood up, “Your outer...everything is fine, but I’m a human doctor, so what should I know? My friend could help you better.”  

“ I am dying.” It says.   

“ What can I do?” Ares hovers around it, unsure how to help, panicking. Time-travel for Dummies didn’t cover this .   

“ I welcome death. But I am glad I have met a person like you.”  

“ Don’t say that! We can figure something out. Where does it hurt? I just need to call—“ tears well up in her eyes as she tries to think of anything to help. She feels her chest constricting until she realizes that she was having a panic attack. Adam awkwardly wraps an arm around her, trying to calm her down.   

“My race is dead.” The creature said, in a tone that Ares recognised. It talked in the same way she had heard the Doctor do when he scarcely mentions his people, “and I shall die alone.” It’s eyestalk lowered slowly, until the light died away. Ares feels something inside her shatter, ripped from her, bringing her agonising pain.  

“No!” She screams, slipping away from Adam’s grip to inch closer to the creature. She had tears running down her face as she gripped its sides, “please! Don’t die, don’t!” She begged, not even noticing the burn from her hands, or how they glowed as she touched the Dalek, “No, no, no. You can’t die, please, please!”   

Suddenly the Dalek shook, its body lighting up in a way that made Ares stumble.   

“ Genetic material extrapolated. Initiate cellular reconstruction.” The Dalek breaks its chains just as a personnel in a hazmat  enters.   

“What the hell have you done?” The person shouts as he walks closer to the Dalek, holding some sort of drill in hand, “What are you going to do? Sucker me to death?” He taunts it. A guard drags Ares outside, just in time to see the Dalek suction the man to death, just as he said. Ares’s eyes widen in horror. How had things gone so wrong so quickly?  

Everything had happened so fast. Soon she was dragging Adam away from the cage, following a guard down a corridor. She barely breaks a sweat when the Dalek catches up to them by the stairs. De Maggio’s demands are unheard as it levitates up the platform, threat looming over them.   

“Adam, get her out of here!” De Maggio ordered.   

“You can’t stop it!” Ares argued, while pulling Adam up with her.   

“Someone’s got to try!” The guard responds, “Now get out!”  

“No!” Ares grabs the guards arm and drags her back up with them. She takes advantage of her shocked state to take the gun from her, “I’ll slow it down. I can catch up with you.”  

“Ma’am—“  

“You’re no use dead to us, De Maggio. Now!” She barked in order as she started shooting at the Dalek. The bullets doesn’t hurt it, only seem to fall down before it even touches its metal body. But it does stop it for a while.   

Eventually, the magazine empties out, and as a last ditch attempt, Ares throws the gun at the Dalek, before running for her life. She doesn’t look back, and everything blurs out until she’s caught up with Adam and De Maggio.   

The Dalek was right behind her. And is she feel its gaze fall particularly on her, she doesn’t mention it.   

“What?” She answers the call when it vibrates in her pocket.   

“ Where are you? ”  

“ Level forty-nine, why? ”   

“ You’ve got to keep moving. The vault’s being sealed off up at level forty-six .” She hears a slight quiver in his voice as he tells her. .  

“ We’ve go to get to level forty-six!” She yells to Adam and De Maggio, before turning back to her phone, “ Can’t you stop them from closing?”  

“ I’m the one closing them. I can’t wait, there’s just enough time before the Dalek absorbs all the power. Now, for god’s sakes, run! ” She groans in frustration as they ran through corridors and stairways until they reach the 46 th level.   

Ares looks back to find the Dalek on their tail. Hah! She passes her coat to Adam and her phone to De Maggio. She pauses momentarily to unstrap her shoes.   

“Go! I’ll be right there!” She urges them. She takes her shoes and chucks them towards the Dalek, before morphing into a giant wolf. She should have anticipated it, really, that De Maggio would start shooting the moment she sees a giant fucking wolf .   

Ares hears Adam scream and terror as he ran faster. Her coat is discarded along the way as she bites onto his collar and threw him across the bulkhead. De Maggio drops the phone and the gun as Ares slid her across the floor like a bowling ball.  

Ares collides with the bulkhead with a soft thud as it closes down. She might have made it, she thinks, if she were her humanoid self. Smaller, tinier. But she just didn’t fit.   

"Best of times, Doctor."

Ares was, as the Doctor would soon confirm, overdramatic.  

Chapter Text

The Doctor was stupefied with shock. He thinks that it was getting harder to breathe, and he feels something boiling deep in his veins. Suddenly, his world was quiet again. Gone was Ares’s incessant chatter, or her soft jabs at his skills, or her never-ending questions.

“I killed her…” he says, eyes blown wide with disbelief.

He should have told her about the Dalek. About Gallifrey. About everything! Perhaps, if she had only known…

Everything suddenly feels duller, and yet loud at the same time. He stands there very still, as if he would shatter the air with a single move. He wants to scream, and shout, and rage.

“I’m sorry.” Came Van Statten’s voice, breaking him from his revery.

“You…you’re sorry?” He repeats, voice devoid of any emotion, “I said I would protect her. I promised her…to bring her home. She was only there because of me, and you’re sorry!” Everyone flinched at the sudden volume of his words, “I could’ve killed that Dalek in its cell, but you stopped me!”

“It was the prize of my collection!” Argued Van Statten. Where he got the courage to do so, god only knows.

“Your collection?” the Doctor looked on him with horrified anger, it was the only emotion left he could muster up.Horror, and Anger, “Was it worth all those men’s deaths? Ares? Was it worth Ares?!” Horror and Anger. Horror. Anger. His fault. His fault. His fault. My fault. My fault. My fault. My fault. Dead. Dead! Dead! Dead! Dead! Ares––

“Let me tell you something, Van Statten,” he continued, a sharp inhale with every phrase, “Mankind goes into space. To be a part of something bigger––”

“Exactly! I just wanted to touch the stars!”

“YOU JUST WANT TO DRAG THE STARS UNDERGROUND!” the Doctor yelled, “Underneath tons of sand and dirt, and label them! You, are about as far as from the stars as you can get...and you took her down with you.” he wiped his hands down his face, as he looked down on his palms, his hands that is soaked with the blood of the innocents. Maybe if he looked closely, he’ll find Ares’s name amongst them.

“...She was so young.” he whispered.

...In Ares’s defense, she did learn her dramatics from the best.

Ares had raised her arms across her face when the Dalek screamed. She had been expecting the pain, the death. She had briefly considered that she had went into heaven when the pain didn’t come. Lowering her arms, she concluded that only the devil would be so revolting to send her a Dalek in her own hell.

“What? Are you gaining a conscience now?”  She asked it as it waved its handles about.

“I AM ARMED, I WILL KILL. IT IS MY PURPOSE!”

“Well good fucking job! You killed all those people down there!” She clapped her hands exaggeratedly, a wry grin on her face as the tears ran down her cheeks.

“THEY ARE DEAD BECAUSE OF US.”

“Don’t fucking put the blame on me. You held the gun, you fired it, you killed them! Not me!” She screamed, “What are you waiting for? Go on! Kill me, finish the job!”

“I FEEL YOUR FEAR.”

“Can you!”

“DALEKS DO NOT FEAR! MUST NOT FEAR!” It shoots at the bulkhead, making Ares jump, “you gave me life. What else have you given me? I AM CONTAMINATED!” It cried. The Dalek prods at her with its laser point, making her stand in the camera’s view,

“Open the bulkhead or Arista Martinez dies!” The Dalek commanded. Ares hears the Doctor’s voice filtering through one of the speakers.

“You’re alive!” Came his staticky voice.

“Ah, did you shed a few tears for me, Doctor?” she teased, hoping her voice didn’t sound as shaky as it felt. She heard an airy laugh from the speaker.

“Tears of joy. I’d dread finding for your replacement.” Ares could hear the genuity behind his words, although he had only said it to quote with her. It settles warmly in her heart, a feeling she’s not willing to decipher now, “’thought you were dead.” he added, honestly.

“OPEN THE BULKHEAD!” The Dalek demanded, “What use are emotions, when you cannot save the woman you love?” Whatever protest Ares had died on her tongue. Love? Her? The very thought was incomprehensible. The Doctor did not love her, at least not the way the Dalek made it out to be. Perhaps, the Doctor did love her, but—but in friendly recompense! She was sure to ignore that little tidbit for the meantime.

“I killed her once,” she heard a whisper from the line, “I can’t do that again.”

“Don’t you dare, Doctor!” Ares yelled. She gave the camera a glare that would have made the gods curl into their shell. Of course, those were just gods, not the Doctor.

Ares felt a mixture of relief and frustration as the bulkhead lifted, seems that it had been a common occurrence since travelling with the Doctor. The Dalek prods at her side with its laser, urging her to move forward.

“That does hurt, you know?” She commented wryly, spinning to glare at the Dalek. It didn’t deign her a response, “You don’t have to kill them. Please, don’t kill them.”

“MY PURPOSE IS TO KILL.”

“You didn’t kill me. You don’t have to,” She pleaded, “you don’t have to.”

“But why not? MY FUNCTION IS TO KILL.” It paused, thoughtfully—or as thoughtfully as it could have looked as a metal creature, “What am I? WHAT AM I?!” It increased in volume as the doors opened into Van Statten’s office. Ares was struggling to make a decision, both petrified for herself and everyone else left. This was her fault.

“Don’t—don’t move, any of you.” She instructed them as soon as the Dalek rolled into the office, “it’s beginning to question itself!” She prayed that they hear her, she prayed that her voice didn’t shake, and above all, she prayed it wouldn’t kill anymore.

“VAN STATTEN. YOU TORTURED ME. Why?”

“I wanted to help you!” Van Statten cried desperately as the Dalek wheeled closer to him, “I just–I was trying to help. I thought, if we could get through you—if we could mend you! I wanted you better! I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, I swear. I just wanted you to talk!” He pleaded as his back hit the wall, the Dalek crowding him and its weapon inches away from him.

“Then hear me talk!” The Dalek screamed, “EXTERMINATE! EXTERMINATE!”

“Wait!” Ares stepped in front of the Dalek, shielding the man with her, albeit, tiny silhouette, “Don’t do it! You don’t have to kill anymore. Just– what do you want? Anything else you want to do?” The Dalek turned its eye on her, and she sucked in a sharp breath.

“…Freedom.”

“Okay. Freedom.” Ares nodded dazedly, as her shoulders sagged in relief, making shooing motions to Van Statten who was still shaking all over. She sees the secretary—Goddard, was it? Goddard pulls her boss away from firing distance of the Dalek, before she clears her throat. She manages to suppress a flinch as the Dalek looked on her.

“Th–there’s a helipad. Top floor, but we don’t have enough power for the elevators–gah!” The secretary cringes as sparks flew and the lights flicker. The Dalek had lent its absorbed power.

“Freedom. That’s all you want. No more killing.” Ares said, following it through the doors and to the lifts. The ride up was excruciatingly slow and nerve-racking, she started tapping her foot in anxiousness. There was a ding, and soon she was trailing after the Dalek like a lost pup. She cringes as the creature blew a whole through the wall.

“See? Sunlight. Freedom.” She pointed almost frantically, basking under the heat that seeped through the whole.

“How does it feel?”

“Er, warm. Nice–oh.” She belatedly realized that it must have been a rhetoric as she watched a metal compartment pop out of it’s middle, revealing a lump of fleshy something that had a singular eye. It honestly looked like a bacteria, but she was not about to say that to the devil’s face.

Ares heard him before she even saw his hide, turning around to make out a black blur from a distance. As it got closer, she could faintly sniff out the familiar scent old books, motor oil, and coffee. She was mildly surprised to find a trace of gunpowder, or something burnt assaulting her senses.

“Ares, get away from it!” The Doctor yelled, holding a gun as he ran.

“Doctor.”

“That thing killed hundred’s of people!” The Doctor said as he got closer, gun trained on the Dalek, subsequently, Ares who was standing in front of it.

If she were to be honest, she doesn’t know the Doctor that much. Sure, she knows that he rarely ever sleeps, and that he knows a bajillion languages, and that he prefers coffee over tea. But those were surface level things. She doesn’t know much of his past, of why he’s the way he is, why he always looks like heaven and hell had rained upon him. She doesn’t ask.

Ares doesn’t ask about the Timelords, instead she asks about what that blinking star in the sky is. She doesn’t ask what Gallifrey was like, but she’ll ask what his favorite planet is. She won’t ask why he has nightmares, she can vaguely guess what it’s about. She’s not dense, of course, she can tell that thinking about his homeworld upsets him.

“Doctor.” She calls him again.

“I’ve got to do this, Ares! I’ve got to end it.” The Doctor said with equal determination and desperation. It’s funny that the only thing standing between him and his aim was Ares, “The Daleks destroyed my home, I’ve got nothing left!”

“I know, Doctor.” Ares says, but even she knew that she’ll never understand that pain of loosing what he lost. She might never know the hurt that comes from having something, and suddenly having nothing. At least, not the way he does. She walks closer to him, her hand holding out to the gun in his still hands.

“Ares, I’ve got to— I can’t let it live.” The Doctor says, trying to convince her, as she pried his hands from the gun. He lets her.

“Just…look at it.” Ares turns her head towards the Dalek, gun in her hands in case the Dalek decides otherwise.

“What’s it doing?” The Doctor frowned, observing the tentacle flesh reaching towards the sunlight.

“It wanted freedom.” Ares said simply, “It doesn’t have to kill anymore.”

“But it can’t!” He insisted in a panicked frenzy.

“Well, it did. It’s changed,” Ares argued, “It couldn’t kill me, it didn’t kill Van Statten. It doesn’t have to kill anymore…Neither do you, Doctor.”

The Doctor looked at her in shock, as if she had just slapped him back and forth. That was a side of him that he’d never wished for her, for anyone to see ever again. The soldier, the Warrior, the murderer. He wanted done with it…yet here he is, so cozy with a gun in his hand. Shame and guilt flooded him, like the dam that kept those emotions contained had just been knocked down by an Ares-shaped wrecking ball.

“I couldn’t —I wasn’t —Oh, Ares…They’re all dead.” For the first time in a long time, he let himself feel the grief. To fall apart. To not hold it all together, just like a shattered porcelain doll glued back together. And Ares is there to pick up his pieces.

Ares hooked one arm around him, her own tears falling at the same pace as his. There was no sufficient words that she could offer that could come close to saying her condolences, her sorry, how she’d wish that he didn’t carry such a huge burden.

“Why do we survive?” The Dalek interjected. Ares did not understand how she could feel so much sorrow from a static-voice.

“I don’t know.” The Doctor’s head hung long in shame.

“I am the last of the Daleks.”

“You're not even that. Ares did more than regenerate you. You've absorbed her DNA. You're mutating.” The Doctor explained, wiping away the tears on his face, as he faced the Dalek again.

“Into what?”

“Something new. I'm sorry.” He said,

“I can feel so many ideas. So much darkness. Arista, give me orders. Order me to die.”

“I’m sorry.” Ares said behind muffled cries.

“This is not life. This is sickness. I shall not be like you. Order my destruction! Obey! Obey! Obey!”

“Okay.” She sniffled, wiping the smear from her cheeks and putting on a brave face.

“Are you frightened, Arista Martinez?”

“Should I be?” she uttered with a weak smile.

“I am. Exterminate.” Ares was pulled back by the Doctor as the Dalek closed its casing. It levitates a few feet of the ground as the metal spheres on its body encased it in a force field, imploding in itself.

Chapter Text

“Are you frightened, Arista Martinez?”

“Should I be?”

“I am. Exterminate.” Ares was pulled back by the Doctor as the Dalek closed its casing. It levitates a few feet of the ground as the metal spheres on its body encased it in a force field, imploding in itself.

Ares and the Doctor stared at the spot where the Dalek had formerly been on, waiting with bated breath as if expecting it to reanimate any second now. They waited. One second, two, three...a minute...

Finally, Ares let go of the gun, letting it fall to the ground with a resounding clatter. Her shoulders sagged in exhaust as her legs finally gave out from beneath her. She sits on the concrete floor, squeezing her legs rhythmically. The Doctor was suddenly kneeling beside her, pointing his sonic screwdriver over her.

“What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” He asked her, attempting to untangling the knot on her long coat.

Ares’s eyes widened and immediately pried his hands away. The Doctor, thinking that she was hiding an injury, tutted and resumed trying to inspect her.

“You can’t hide your injury–“

“I’m not hiding shit, I’m fucking nude!” Ares, honest to god, growled, “Dude.”

The Doctor immediately dropped his hands and winced. He stayed kneeling there for a moment while Ares secured the tie on her coat, covering most of her skin that had gotten exposed when the Doctor tried to wrestle the wraps open. He decided to settle comfortably beside her on the concrete floor. Just for a moment.

Ares breathes. She takes in a long inhale, and a similarly long exhale. She repeats that a few more times, until she hears the Doctor doing the same. Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. That’s nice…The feeling starts to come back to her.

They say that the body remembers, that is holds the memories that the mind cannot tell. Well, Ares can certainly remember that she had slammed against the wall when they had turned a corner earlier, the receding bruise on her upper arm tells that. She could still taste the smell of De Maggio’s laundry detergent, from when she bit her scruff and threw her under the bulkhead. Her feet were not better, near blistering after she ran four flights of stairs barefoot.

She looked at the Doctor. He was still staring ahead. His semi-cropped hair was a mess, more than usual at least. There was a slight redness from his neck upwards, and most prominently under his eyes. Ares wanted to say something, offer him anything to take away the pain—the pain that she had added to, oh god.

But what else was there to say? What else could she possibly say? ‘Condolence’ did not seem enough. ‘I’m sorry for your loss’? ‘You’re not alone’? Are those the words the Doctor would like to hear at the moment? Would ‘I’m here if you want to talk’ be enough? It wasn’t enough for her then, that’s for sure.

So she did the next best thing. Ares took his hand and held it. She stayed with him and shared that moment like a secret. The two of them sat there silently, staring into the sun shine, until the remaining two soldiers and staff had found them a few feet from the metal and dust.

The pair walked hand-in-hand towards the Police Box. The Doctor unlocked it with one hand, giving his companion a small smile.

“Little piece of home. Better than nothing.” He said, not quite as cheerful as he meant to.

“Hmm…” Ares responded, “the Dalek survived. Maybe your people did too.”

“I’d know. In here,” he pauses in opening the door in favor of tapping his temple, “Feels like there’s no one. ‘Cept you sometimes.”

“Hmm…” she nodded, processing his words, “…What d’you mean except for me?” The Doctor only grinned knowingly, as if he’d seen into her deepest thoughts —which he might as well have, apparently.

Adam’s footsteps came with his scent, alerting the wolf of his arrival.

“We’d better get out. Van Statten’s disappeared,” Ares snorted at that, “They’re closing the basement. Goddard says they’re going to fill it full of cement, like it never existed.”

“What, all this?” Ares gestured to the displays, “not saving any for the history books?”

“She said everything.” Adam confirmed. Ares grinned and he suddenly felt warning bells in his head.

Ares looked up to the Doctor with a mischievous grin, and that was all his warning before the were-lord took off running, dropping his hand in the process. A second later, the sound of glass breaking echoed through the exhibition hall, followed by the siren. Ares turned the corner, running towards the Doctor and Adam, making wild gestures with one hand as her other clutched a rectangular device.

“In, in, get in!” Ares yelled, amusement colouring her voice.

“What did you do?” The Doctor turned to her incredulously, one foot in the door as she ran back to him.

“Souvenir!” She cackled, waving the device as she pushed him inside the TARDIS.

Adam was still looking around wildly, waiting for the soldiers to appear. When the siren wailed on, and the soldiers didn’t come, he turned to the Police Box.

“We’ve got to leave!” He said, slowly pushing the door open, “what are you doing? She said cement, she wasn’t joking!” he cautiously followed the two inside, “We’re going to get sealed…in…”

Chapter Text

Ares soaks in the bath for almost an hour, washing off the stench of sweat and gunpowder from her skin. The water was running hot compared to her core temperature, relieving her of the tension from her body. She was avoiding to having to talk to the Doctor, just as he was. 

When they left Utah, with Adam as an accidental-not accidental stowaway, they decided that they would bring him along on a trip. Or rather, the Doctor is. She heard the Doctor talking something about a human empire in the future. She excused herself from the trip as she was too worn out, and in desperate need of a wash. 

Also, she didn’t want to face the Doctor just yet. Not after the trouble she had caused. 

She steps out of the bath and changes into pajamas. After she’d dried her hair and seeing as the Doctor and Adam had yet to come back, she cooks a meal enough for the three of them. It was her day – relative to the TARDIS– to cook, after all. She had plenty of time to think about what to say, rehearse what she wanted to say, and how to apologize to the Doctor after what happened.

That was when she heard Adam’s panicked voice through the halls, and the Doctor’s silence. 

“Adam? Doctor?” she calls as she walks into the console room, wiping her hands on a dish rag. The Doctor didn’t so much as shrug, piloting the TARDIS into the vortex, making its occupants hold on for dear life as they were viscously thrown around. The TARDIS materializes with a wheeze, and the Doctor pushes Adam out of the door harshly. 

“It’s my house!” Adam’s face lit up in relief, “I’m home, oh my god! I’m home. Blimey. I thought you were going to chuck me out of an airlock.” 

“Doctor? What’s going on?” Ares asked as she followed the two men out. 

“Is there something else you want to tell me?” the Doctor asked Adam with a scowl, ignoring Ares’s question. 

“No. What d’you mean?” the human answered hurriedly. The Doctor continued to glare at Adam as he walked towards the mantle where a telephone sits.  

“The archive of Satellite Five. One second of that message could’ve changed the world.” he used the Sonic Screwdriver explode the answer machine, “That’s it then, see you.” he said coldly, taking Ares by hand and back into the TARDIS. He doesn’t wait for a reply from the human, before they’re departing and wandering aimlessly in the time vortex. 

“What happened? I thought you and Adam were just poppin’ off for a trip.” Ares asked. 

“It’s nothing...” he replied curtly, before he did a full 180 degree, “How’s your bath? Refreshed? I bet you’re hungry. We can go to Fenrir, one of Saturn’s moons. Although, it’s a bit cramped so they’ve only got Warp-by option. Bit like you. Wolf and small.” 

“Doctor.” she called his attention. 

“Alright, I won’t tease you.” he raised his arms in mock surrender. Ares rolled her eyes, stepping closer to him. She cradles his hand in her palms, kneading at his knuckles. Sighing, she tugs him towards the kitchen. 

“Eat." She said, pushing him onto the seat across her. She had anticipated Adam's presence at the table, so she put back the extra plate in the cupboard.  

Ares and the Doctor ate in silence. All that could be heard was the clinking of utensils, and the moving of plates. Ares's chopsticks occasionally picked out the carrot slices from her plate and transferred it to the Doctor’s plate. The Doctor, for his part, only picked it up with his fork and chewed it in his mouth. 

The silence was deafening. The Doctor had counted on having Adam to fill the silence, to dispel this awkward energy in the air. The human turned out to be a bust, so here he was, eating in silence, not knowing how to fix this.  

He could feel it. The moment Ares entered the TARDIS, she had avoided him. She kept to her room for the rest of the evening— relative to the TARDIS — and would likely have stayed there for the next 12-hour cycle. The Doctor couldn’t blame her for not knowing how to proceed. After all, hundreds of men died because of him. That’s enough to scare her away. 

Ares stole glances towards the Doctor, working up the courage to find her voice. He had a frown on his face now, clearly thinking deeply.  

“I'm sorry.” She said, breaking the Doctor from his sulking. 

“Hmm?” he wasn’t sure if he had heard it correctly. 

“I said, I’m sorry.” Ares repeated, putting her chopsticks down. 

“...Why?” the Doctor frowned, “What are you sorry for?” 

“About the Dalek.” The Doctor back straightened at the mention, “I regenerated the Dalek. I ...I killed so many people...” She admitted, looking down in shame. 

“What?” the Doctor was taken aback, “You didn’t kill them, the Dalek did!” 

“I helped,” She stated, “I could have just let it die, it was dying! It wanted to die, and I couldn’t accept that. It’s my fault.”  

The Doctor stared for a moment, unsure of how to respond. Ares was apologizing, remorseful. He didn’t expect her to, nor was it necessary as the fault didn’t lie on her. Yet she apologizes. 

“Ares...it’s not your fault,” He said slowly, “if anything, it’s mine. My fault. I brought you there, I put you in danger...” he rubbed his hands down his face as everything that’s happened sinks in, “Oh, Ares, I'm so sorry...” 

“Oh, piss off!” Ares scoffed, “You got a distress signal, you wanted to help. It’s not your fault the Dalek’s homicidal.” Her outburst earned a surprised chuckle out of the Doctor. Less of what she said, but more about how huffy she got.  

“I could have told you.” He said. 

“I could have asked,”  She countered, “...For what it’s worth, I'm sorry that I made you go through that...” 

“You didn’t make me—” 

“Doctor, just accept the apology. I am apologizing. I made a lapse in judgment, it cost so many people’s lives,” she sighed, “I can’t apologize to the victims, nor their families, but I can apologize to you. And I am sorry.” 

The Doctor stared, dumbfounded. The apology was unnecessary,  Ares had not killed anyone, in his mind. Ares was manipulated — Mean, Beautiful, Kind Ares . She only wanted to help, and the Dalek took advantage of that. But that apology...he would be lying if it didn’t lift a weight off his back. 

“...Alright,” he decided, “Then I accept your apology, if you accept mine,” Ares smiled at him, “...and I forgive you all the same.” 

Ares couldn’t sleep. Not after all that happened. She tossed and turned, even tried to sleep in her wolf form, but nothing helped. She groaned in frustration as she threw her covers off, holding a pillow under her arm and stomping outside.  

As it happens, the Doctor was facing a similar problem. He was working under the console, his leather jacket hanging off the rails. It didn’t seem like he was planning on sleeping tonight, since he was still in jeans and his jumper. 

When Ares noticed the Doctor under the console, she settled down on the floor, her pillow beneath her chin as she laid on her stomach. She watched quietly, not making a sound as the Doctor attached wires in different sockets, making sounds of frustration as the TARDIS electrocuted him. It didn’t occur to her, however, just how silent she was being. 

“Oh, *****!” the Doctor exclaimed. He let out a spew of what seemed like Gallifreyan cusses, his hand clutching his chest as he came up from under the floor grills, coming face to face with Ares, “What’re you sneaking about for?!” 

“Can’t sleep.” 

“Why not?” he asked, wiping his hands clean from grease on a dirty rag. 

“Dunno.” Ares replied, not particularly engaged into having a conversation.  

“and you decided to scare me?” he raised a brow. 

“Not my fault you’re easily scared.” She shrugged, making the Doctor roll his eyes. He stands up, closing the floors, before piloting the TARDIS. The shaking feels better when Ares feels it from the ground, and not when she’s being tossed around.  

The Doctor opened the doors and sat at the threshold. He beckons Ares closer, who begrudgingly followed, dragging her pillow and resuming her position by the doors. 

“Where are we?” 

“The Constellation of Kasterborous.” he said. 

“Cool.” She offered. It seemed that her mood was down for the rest of the night. Understandable, given the day she’s had. The day they’ d had.  

“It’s where Gallifrey used to be.” The Doctor informed her. If she were all furry and claws right now, her ears would have stood in attention to what the Doctor had just said.  

Gallifrey was not a subject either of them brings up, unless it was to talk about Were-lords and their mysterious existence. Ares never asked out of decency, assuming that it would be a sore topic for the Doctor. After all, she had heard him mumble about the planet pitifully in his nightmares. After the last twenty-four hours, she had reached a concrete opinion.  

“It was beautiful.” He added.  

“…you don’t have to tell me if…if you’re not ready.” Ares said, slowly, as she continued to lay on the floor.  

“No, no. It’s fine. You deserve to know. Gallifrey…it’s your homeworld too—or would have been, might have been, once.” He mumbled. That immediately got Ares up on her knees, facing the Doctor in all seriousness.  

“I don’t care about Gallifrey.” Ares winced at the first thought that made its way passed her mouth, “What I mean to say is, I have no... emotional attachment to Gallifrey, not like you do. I grew up on Earth, it’s all that I know to be my home , no matter what species I come from. I am a human at heart, so I will not be able to appreciate Gallifrey the way that you do, the way you want me to.” 

“Nevermind me,” she clamps her palms at the sides of his face, staring into his eyes, “I can live without the knowledge of Gallifrey. But if you want to tell me about your home, then I will listen.” 

The Doctor stared at her in astonishment. He had expected her to ask, to want to know about what war she almost died from today. Most people, like some of his past companions, had outright demanded to know what he is. Whether it was out of curiosity or out of caution, people wanted to know where he came from, what he is, what is Gallifrey like, what’s it like to be an alien?  

Yet Ares, for all of her curiosity and caution, had never once asked, nor demanded that he told her anything about his ancestry. Not even when she'd seen him in a state of vulnerability. Not unless he had voluntarily offered the information, or it was connected with her own personal concerns. That she does not appear to be even the slightest curious about his past, the Doctor did not know whether or not to be relieved. 

“Alright.” he decided. ‘Perhaps, one day.’  

Ares let go of the Doctor and sat comfortably on the threshold, her feet dangling outside. They sat in companionable silence, watching as dust and gases swirled in their view.  

“Speaking of home...” Ares started, but the Doctor seemed to have anticipated what she was going to say.  

“You want to go home?” she nodded.  

“Been a long time coming. Figured, it’s time I face the music.” she said, “or whatever people say.” 

That saddened the Doctor. Of course, after today, he had expected it. He knew it would be all too much for Ares. Besides, he had promised to take her home. And he was used to it.  

“Yeah. Okay.” he nodded stiffly, “I guess, I should take the time to say, it’s been an absolute pleasure to have you here, Ares. I will always remember you, in my hearts. You have pulled me from the darkness and...and...” he paused as a confused amusement overtook Ares’ face, “And you meant that you’re going home for a visit, yes?” 

“Yes, you ding-dong,” she said, “I thought, I’d better show up for my brother’s trial before I regenerate into someone unrecognizable.” 

“But you’re staying. Here?” he clarified, “Even after what happened?” Ares snorted. 

“I’m not leaving cause of some homicidal alien thing.” she rolled her eyes, “I’m here for the long game —and take into account my apparently extended lifespan, you’ll be sick of this face soon!” Ares joked, a grin plastered on her face. 

The Doctor didn’t respond. Again, he wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing...well, that was a lie. He knows, Ares would be safer without him...but... 

Well, but. He’d really hate to see her leave. 

“So...” Ares starts after a while, the Doctor throwing her an inquisitive glance, “...pulled you from the darkness, huh?” she wiggled her brows teasingly, making the Doctor huff haughtily and roll his eyes. He doesn’t deign that a respond, instead continued to watched the view outside the TARDIS.  

‘And there was light. God saw that the light was good, and he separated the light from the darkness.’ 

Chapter Text

Although Ares had said that she did want to go home for a visit, it wasn’t until a week later that the Doctor could actually fulfil that request. She didn’t so much as minded that there was a delay, more so what caused the delay.

The first one was a fire in one of the kitchens. Specifically, the Doctor’s kitchen. Apparently, her nose had not been fooling her when she smelt bananas in the air as the Doctor had been attempting to bake banana muffins before their encounter with ...Van Statten. Her nose had also not been fooling her when she smelt air pollution worse than EDSA 2016^[I.] on rush hour.

Subsequent to that particular crisis having solved, the Doctor held under probation from cooking, their flight was highjacked by nonother than the TARDIS herself. She landed them on a marsh land, which just so happened to be run by cannibals, and refused to move until they fixed the issue in the area. Oddly enough, cannibalism was not the TARDIS’ concern but the water poisoning in the land.

Subsequent to that encounter, Ares and the Doctor more than traumatized after almost having their limbs eaten, they declared a day allotted for self-care. The Doctor flew them to Fenrir In n’out burger, which was a surprisingly peaceful endeavour for them both.

Of course, peace never lasts in the TARDIS as She lands them in 1912. What a day. They ended up boarding the Titanic in place of a lovely couple and their children –after they convinced them that it wasn’t exactly five-star, nor was it somewhere a family of their status should be seen in. Bad omens and all that. Well, Ares and the Doctor ended up clinging to the side of an iceberg as they waited for the rescue boats to make their rounds.

The topping to it all, making the week so long and exhausting, was landing in 2008. They were following a lizard and ....things, which Ares had trouble recalling after running around being concussed for a whole day, holding arrows on her back. By the end of the day, she sported a moderate concussion, a scrape on her knees and palms. She was strictly on bed rest for the rest of the week even if her injuries healed pretty quickly due to her newly unlocked Werelord abilities. ‘God, that makes her sound like a Pokémon.’ They also, apparently, met a woman named Sparrow. After their recent encounter with a lizard, she forbade the Doctor to go sniffing around for the bird until further notice.

“And you double checked the date?” Ares asked, for the sixth time today.

“Down to the second, yes ma’am.” The Doctor answered, mocking a salute.

“You sure? Cause last time, we almost became a sacrifice.” she teased, although she sounded nervous. She was finally going home.

“July 23, 2041. Quarter past three in Philippine Standard Time,” he rolled his eyes following Ares into a shuttle bus, “I don’t get why we can’t just –you know, TARDIS! Would be so much more convenient.”

“Listen, when we get there, you’re Dr...Smith. Yeah, that’s it. John Smith, doctor of pathology. You work with me, and you’re human,” Ares ignored his complains as she dug through her old wallet for spare bills for the fare, “I cannot stress this enough, please act like you weren’t just dropped on this planet with an underdeveloped frontal lobe.”

“I have a fully developed frontal lobe! Thrice of them!” he huffed.

“See, that? Right there? The first part was fine, stop your mouth before you refer to yourself as a three-brained being!” she stressed, passing their fee to the passengers beside her, “Although, with the amount of weird shit you say, it’ll probably be the least of your worries. Just don’t go sniffing anybody. I don’t want to have to bail you out after clearing my brother’s name.”

“I am not that unusual. I can blend in!” The Doctor insisted, “I have been living on Earth for at least a century or so.”

“Using ‘Living’ as a loose term, you’ve never had a mortgage, ever.” she snorts, thumping the hood of the bus as she sees her grandmother’s house approaching, “Para po, kuya.^[II.]”

The shuttle comes to a halt and Ares and the Doctor got off, the Doctor helping her down the steps. The two stared at the perfectly modern early 20s house––2020s–– with window glass panes and two large front doors. It originally belonged to her aunt’s family, but since they settled down in the countryside, the house was left under Ares’ grandmother’s care. Although, it was not uncommon to find most of her their relatives staying over.

In front of the gates were three cars lined up, presumably belonging to her cousins. Before either of them could get any closer to make their presence known, Ares’s grandmother, as old as she is, raced out of the door and through the gates, pulling her into an embrace.

Nay^[III.]!” Ares yelped. She was about to return the hug when her grandmother, as old as she is, pulled her behind her and delivers a harsh slap towards the Doctor. Ares immediately grabs her grandmother’s hands together and drags her away from the Doctor, who is holding his cheek in surprise.

“Walang lugar dito para sa isang katulad mo! Layuan mo kami. Hudas!^[IV.]” Her grandmother screamed at the Doctor. Meanwhile, her cousin who had followed their grandmother out had restrained her and are coaxing her back inside.

“Nay! Kaibigan ka po yan.^[V.]”Ares tried explaining, “Katrabaho ko po, doktor din siya.^[VI.]”

“Yan ba ang sinabi nya sayo? Sinungaling. Demonyo. Hora Rajah.^[VII.]” her grandmother sneered.

Both Ares and The Doctor’s eyes widened at that, just as her grandmother was carefully lead back inside the house by the in-house nurse. Her cousin came out to apologize to the Doctor, who was in too much shock to communicate anything other than to share meaningful glances with Ares, who was in the same state of shock.

“Well, good news,” the Doctor whispered to Ares, still pressing his cheek, “I don’t think you’re adopted.”

On the dining table was a hot cup of coffee that Ares was mindlessly stirring. It was not for her but for the Doctor who was sitting right beside her, holding an ice back to his cheek. For someone as old as her grandma, she does hit like a calamity. The Doctor on the other hand was trying not to complain as he watches her stir the coffee one too many times.

One of Ares’s cousins was staying by their grandmother, whom the in-house nurse had finally coaxed to sleep; the in-house nurse who glared at the Doctor when she saw him; the Doctor who is very confused by everyone’s animosity towards him today.

“Baka mamaya-maya pa yung sila Zill. Gutom na ba kayo? Psst. Risha, yung bisita mo, baka gutom na.^[VIII.]” her cousin nudged her, shooting glances at the Doctor.

“Hungry?” Ares asked the Doctor, albeit distractedly.

“I’m fine, thanks. I got this coffee,” The Doctor answered her cousin instead, tapping the mug on the side, “Well, whenever this one decides to stop stirring, anyway.” he teased.

“Oh, my bad.” Ares seems to snap out of it, being called out. She lets the teaspoon drip dry in the mug before passing it over to him.

“So... you’re a doctor then?” her cousin decided to break the ice.

“Oh. Yes,” he says, “I’m the Doctor...er, Dr. John Smith. Pathologist. Her colleague,” he rambled, “Nella, right?”

“Talk about me a lot, Risha?” her cousin bumped her shoulder, “Janella Canlas, but everyone calls me Nella.”

“Yeah, she talks about you all nonstop. Really made good use of my ears,” he tugs on his ear with a bemused smile, “You’re the nurse, right? Mind you, almost all of you took up medicine, it’s hard to tell a part sometimes.”

Ares felt like she could explode at the moment. While her cousin and the Doctor were getting friendly towards each other, Ares could feel a loud ringing in her ear and the grinding in her skull. She feels as though she could drown in the suffocating pressure that crushes her lungs. Just full of anger and malice, a very poisonous feeling that makes her want to throw up. She needed to get out, get away.

Ares abruptly stands, the stool making a sound as it skidded against the floor.

“I’m going for a walk.” She announced, not even staying to hear their response. She vaguely hears the Doctor’s footsteps following her as she found the park in her path, her pace slowing down as her chest tightened.

“Alright?” the Doctor asked, having caught up to her short legs.

“No,” she said truthfully, “I am upset. Why am I upset? I’m angry and so spiteful! I cannot breathe properly, what is this?” she strikes her chest with her palm, “This isn’t a panic attack, I’ve got nothing to panic about! I am angry at you!” she pointed her index finger right at the Doctor’s face.

“Me? What did I do now?” he frowned in concern, leading her to one of the park benches.

“I don’t know!” she said irritably as she took in large breaths. She didn’t notice herself crying until the Doctor was wiping her tears away, his expression split between concern and shame, “W-what?”

“Oh, I should have realized,” he dug the heel of his palms onto his eyes as he sighed, “You’re picking up negative emotions from other people, Ares.”

“What?” she hissed out, harsher than she intended.

“Assuming that your grandmother is a Were-lord, or a Were-lord descent, and you’re a full-fledged Were-lord,” he tried to explain, “You’re picking up on her most recurring emotions right now. But this must be the first time it happened to you, so your brain is sending out signals that there’s an intruder, that’s why you feel like you’re having a panic attack.”

“So what you’re saying, is I’m an empath?” she gritted through her teeth, incredulously, still rubbing the heel of her palm above her chest.

“Telepath.” He corrects her.

“You said, Timelords were touch-telepaths! Ergo, touch!” she protested.

“Exactly. Time-lords,” he emphasized, “Maybe whatever Rassilon did mutated Were-lords.”

“So what,” she continued as tears continued to form in her eyes, “I’ll just feel my grandma’s anger towards you, forever?Hate to break it to you, I don’t think we fit the enemies to lovers trope.” She narrowed her eyes in mock.

“I think you’re well enough, if you can mock me.” he huffs, “Alright. Normally, you’d need tons of meditation and practice, until you can build up your mind shields. But you’re skeptic and I don’t have the patience to walk you through that process right now, so we’ll do that some other time. For now, here.” He offered his hand to her.

“Really? Power of friendship? That’s how you’re planning to help me?” she says incredulously. The Doctor rolled his eyes and grabbed her hand on his own. Instantly, her mind felt lighter, her hearts starts beating at a normal pace, and she could breathe, “What did you do?”

“Touch telepath,” he wiggled his other hand with a grin, “although, I’m only projecting my current feelings to you, better than all that hate, isn’t it?”

“…you know this is kind of a third date type of thing, but I’ll let it slide cause my grandma just slapped the brooding out of you.” she joked, not letting go of his hand.

“Oi! She slaps hard. Nine-hundred years, I’ve never been slapped by anyone’s grandmother before.”

“You are so lying.” She grinned.

Chapter Text

Ares heard the rustling behind them first, before her phone pinged and alerted them. She passed her phone over to the Doctor who checked the message while she scanned around the area for the source of the sound. She immediately spots three figures, hunched behind a tree, hiding from her.

“Oh, your cousin sent a pic…of us?” The Doctor’s head perked up, looking around for the source of the photo. He followed Ares’ line of sight, “What are they doing?”

“Mga isip bata^[I.].” Ares groaned. She took her phone from the Doctor and dialled the number. The line went unanswered, and Ares and the Doctor witnessed the three figures scampering off, all cackling as they pushed each other back towards the direction of their grandmother’s house. Her phone dinged in rushed succession, making her sigh as she silenced it.

“What was that?” The Doctor asked amusingly. He had never been introduced personally to any of Ares’ family before today, only having heard of stories back in her childhood, starring mostly her cousins. Today was proving to be more and more unusual for him, seeing the other world Ares exists in.

“That, was my brother and my cousins being immature,” Ares said rolling her eyes, albeit the Doctor recognized the fondness in her tone. She tugged on his arm, her hand intertwining his without thinking. “Never mind. I think they’re waiting for us to go back.”

The two walked back to the house, hand in hand, mentally preparing themselves for the onslaught tensions and emotions they were about to walk into. It was like walking into an active warzone; you don’t know when you’re going to get hit by the bad vibes bomb.

In the living room were her cousins and her brother^[II.], waiting for them. Her brother, Anthony, was in his slacks and polo, possibly having just gone back from a meeting with his lawyer. Zilliana, her cousin, is sitting beside Anthony, massaging her heels from a whole day of teaching. Zion on the other hand was sprawled on the other couch, his school uniform open in front as he fanned himself, his feet dangling on one side of the couch.

“There she is! My wonderful sister!” her brother cheered exaggeratedly as she and the Doctor walked through the front doors, “Isn’t she amazing? I always said, I wanted to be like her when I grow up––“

“Piss off, I already said I’m getting you off murder.” Ares chortled, raising her middle finger at her brother, “Anthony, Zill, Zion, This is ––“

“Code Nine, yeah we know.” Her brother interrupted, making her frown. She turns to the Doctor with a questioning look but by the way he was likewise wide-eyed, he was also confused.

“How do you know about ‘Code Nine’?” the Doctor asked, “Do you work for UNIT?”

“––What, UNIT? Your lot?” Ares questioned the Doctor.

“––No, I don’t. but we received this letter–” Anthony brought out a briefcase from under the stairs and opened it on the coffee table, “–two weeks before your supposed flight back.” There was an undeniably blue envelope amidst the papers, which Anthony handed to the two.

“Sabi, hindi ka daw makakauwi kasi may project ka daw with UNIT.^[III.]And that we mustn’t tell anyone because it’s a very sensitive and confidential case involving Code Nine.” Zill added, tipping her head towards the Doctor.

The Doctor opened the envelope, Ares looking over him to read the contents of the letter. It was a short letter, addressed to Anthony Martinez, Zilliana Ruiz, and Zion Ruiz. The content was straightforward, concise, pretentious, just how Ares would have written it. In fact, it was almost as if she had written it. The content read as follows:

Dearest brother and cousins,

                        I am writing this letter because I will not be able to come home. Neither will I be in contact during the time that I am not coming home. I will be working with ‘Code Nine’, UNIT hire, on a very sensitive matter. I ask that you keep the truth of this matter to yourselves until I am returned. Do not worry as I am safe, and I will be coming back before this time next year. Stay safe and wait for me.

Di vos incolumes custodiant!^[IV.]

M.Lopez

Strangely, it was signed by someone named M. Lopez. On the bottom were two ink stamps: the official seal of UNIT, and a thumb print. Ares ran her thumb over it, almost like she knew it to be hers.

“It’s yours.” Anthony supplied, “We checked.”

“Who knows about this?” Ares asked.  

“Kami lang^[V.].” Zill replied, gesturing to the three of them.

“…and Achi^[VI.]Rina.” Zion admitted. ‘Marina’, “She got really depressed when you went missing so we had to tell her.”

“But you told no one else?” the Doctor asked, taking the letter from Ares’ hand and scanning it with his Sonic Screwdriver. Zion shook his head. The Doctor put his sonic away, frowning at the paper. Ares could feel a headache creeping up on her. She pulled the Doctor to the side, away from her brother and cousins’ earshot.

“What’s wrong?” Ares asked him, noticing the way his face screwed in confusion.

“Temporal Residue,” he whispered lowly, “Means it travelled through the vortex. Who’s ‘M. Lopez’?”

“I don’t think I know anyone who goes by ‘M. Lopez’.” She whispered to him, “Does UNIT have a TARDIS or something?”

“They better not.” He retorted with a snort, handing the letter back to Anthony, “You should probably keep the existence of that a secret. We don’t want anyone digging into it.”

“Okay, just to clarify,” Anthony cautioned, “did you or did you not send this letter?” the Doctor and Ares exchanged a look.

“I did, yeah.” Ares lied, “M. Lopez, my codename or whatever. Just keep the letter safe, we won’t need it for your trial anyway.” She changed the subject.

Anthony, Ares, and the Doctor discussed the details of what would take place on the day of Anthony’s court trial. By the time they had finalized everything, Nella and left for work, Zill had gone home, and Zion was fast asleep. They’re grandmother did not wake up once in that time, neither did the in-house nurse show up again. The building pressure in Ares’ head didn’t let up though, so she held the Doctor’s hand through it all.

“Dun na lang kayo sa bahay, dito na ko kay nanay matutulog.” Anthony ushered them, “Nasa paso yung susi. ^[VII.] ”

“What, no girlfriend over?” Ares joked.

“No.” her brother grumbled.

“Hah, loser!” she teased.

“Mostly because they all think I killed you.” Anthony deadpanned making Ares snort, eyes wide in half-mortification, half-amusement.

“My bad, bro.” she mocked surrender, before waving goodbye to her brother.

Ares was walking leisurely, swinging their hands together as the wind blew past them. She had a serene smile on her face, content and at peace despite the slight throbbing in her head. Every now and then, her finger curls tighter around the Doctor’s hand, but she was silent otherwise. The Doctor walked alongside Ares, staring at her.

“What?” Ares raised her brow, questioningly.

“Nothing. You just look…happy.” The Doctor shrugged, averting his gaze, “Where are we going?”

“Sa bahay namin” She answered, “Technically, retirement home dapat nila mama yun. Kaso lang, di na nila inabutan. ^[VIII.] ”

“Ah.” He nodded in understanding, “And it’s near your grandmother’s house?”

“Hmm.” She hummed in response, turning the corner with him. She stopped in front of a bungalow house, digging her hand into a flowerpot. She pulls out a key covered in dirt, attached under a rock by a silver chain.

“Let me guess,” the Doctor grinned, “Your idea?”

“My brother hasn’t a single creative bone in him. Duh.” She pushed the gate open and used the key to open the door to the house, throwing the key on the table after she used it. The Doctor flicked the lights as he passed by the threshold, closing the door behind him. He looked around in fascination; this was perhaps one of the rare occurrences where the roles are reversed, and he was the one left to marvel at his companion’s home.

“Your house is so…colour.” He describes aptly, looking at all the indoor plants lining the walls. Despite the house being one-story, the ceiling were high enough to accommodate for a small chandelier in the middle of the living room. The sofa, which the Doctor was sure a choice made by Ares, was U-shaped and red, the colour working well against the white walls. There was a golden framed mirror spanning across one side of the wall, which he was once more positive that was an addition by Ares. On another part of the house was a wall lined floor to ceiling with picture frames. Colourful frames.

“Yeah.” Ares agreed, inspecting the leaves of her plants individually, picking at the dried leaves around its base, “Looks like my brother at least watered them well.” She doesn’t linger, pulling open a shoe cabinet as she disposes her shoes inside and exchanges them for a pair of indoor slippers. She passes a pair to the Doctor as well.

“I’m going to clean Anthony’s room and then you can stay there if you’re planning to sleep.” She said to him, “Mi casa es tu casa, if I’m saying that right.” She says wearily.

“Don’t bother, I don’t need sleep much anyway.” He says, toeing his shoes off, “I might go back to the TARDIS.”

“Hmm…just be back before 11 pm, or after 4 am. There’s a curfew.” She said, “Food’s in the fridge, car keys on the counter, water, my brother’s room, and my room. Feel free to raid my brother’s cabinet, something to change into.” Ares listed off, pointing at different parts of the house. She passed the house key to him as she started to yawn.

“Go sleep. I’ll lock up.” The Doctor ushered her, “We can talk in the morning.” Ares only hummed as she walked towards her room and the Doctor faintly heard he flopping down on the bed, knocking out.

Chapter Text

The Doctor sneaks back in late in the evening. He found that there wasn’t much he could do anyway in the TARDIS without ending up in the wrong decade. Perhaps meeting Ares’ family has occupied his brains too much, else he would have thought of something else to entertain himself with.

As he parked Ares’ car back in the garage, he was surprised to find the lights turned back on inside the house. He was sure he turned them all off before leaving. Not only that, but the door was ajar as well. Fearing the worst, he produced his Sonic Screwdriver from his pocket and pointed it onwards as if holding a gun.

He walks up to the door, as cautiously and as quietly as he can manage. The Doctor had been prepared to use brute force, to rescue Ares from her supposed attacker, only to find the wolf laying under the table. He almost didn’t see her, her form obscured by the tablecloth, barring her snout which stuck out from underneath.

The Doctor stands a little dumbfounded for a moment, whirring around to confirm that no one had actually broken-in before he slowly tucked away his screwdriver and crouched down on the floor. He lifts the cloth with a finger, careful not to jostle it too much and wake her up. Under the table was Ares, sleeping peacefully with her glasses perched between her eyes. She had a book tucked under her chin, creasing under her weight.

“Wouldn’t you get a cold…” he mumbled, more to himself than her, carefully taking her reading glasses off her face. He left them on top of the table and stood up to lock the doors.

Presuming that Ares would want something to cover herself when she wakes up and inadvertently changes form, the Doctor went to look for a blanket that was big enough to cover her. Which is the excuse he gave himself for being nosy.

The Doctor went towards the direction of Ares’s room, pushing the door open as quietly as he can —and he means with utmost caution; it is quite hard to sneak around when your companion has the ability to hear every turn of page you make from the other room.

Of course, this would not be the first time he would be seeing Ares’s room. Often times, the two could be found sprawled over her grass-patch blanket on the floor, whether be playing games, or simply reading. Ares reasoned that it felt much more comfortable than being in the library or the observatory.

Still, the Doctor was still curious. Despite not having lived her childhood in this house, it belonged to a version of Ares before she had become his friend. He wanted to know her too.

He pushed open the door, taking in the appearance of the room. He could see why Ares had decided to sleep under the table tonight; her twin-sized loft-bed would not have been able to accommodate her full mass of furball. Underneath her loft was a simple study desk, hardly used from the way it was neatly decorated. Although judging by the way her drawers were packed to the brim with papers, pens, and—and empty lotion containers? Seems like nothing has changed. She just prefers hiding them under her floorboards on the TARDIS now.

The thing that surprised the Doctor the most was how much she utilized her walls to create an open space in the middle. She had a deep orange carpet in the center of her room, only a pillow and a blanket neatly folded over in the middle. The Ares he knew slept on the floor as well from time to time, he assumed that it was a habit she picked up from the thirty plus years she spent in the woods.

However, the Ares he knew liked to stick to things. Ares liked being able to camouflage with her bed, her dresser, the wall. He admits, she sometimes looks like an art décor whenever she stays still, it always makes his hearts stop a minute when he realizes that the dark brooding wolf in the corner is alive. She mastered the art of hiding in plain sight —or perhaps the Doctor’s age was simply showing.

Regardless, it was fascinating to say the least, to know a version of Ares who sleeps with her back to the winds, had existed.

-

The sound of a rooster crowing gently arouses Ares from her sleep. She pushes one arm forward, then stretches the other, before turning to her side. Her face lands onto the soft and cold fabric of a blanket. She frowns in confusion as she slowly manages to roll herself into the cloth, worming herself out from underneath the table with much difficulty. She rights herself upwards, walking to the direction of her bedroom. She hears something faintly playing, a melody and a humming.

Softly opening her room, she finds the Doctor sitting against her cubbyhole with her CD player in his hand. He had stacks of CDs beside him and a pair of headphones on his head, connecting to the player. He seemed to be enjoying the songs, judging by his humming.

“Thought you were going to the TARDIS?” Ares suddenly spoke up, making the Doctor jump out of his skin as his eyes flew open and his hands ripped the headphones from his ears. He muttered something that Ares couldn’t understand, she assumes he was cursing in his native.

“Rassilon, Ares!” he hissed, clutching his chest, “I have a heart condition.”

“Having two hearts is perfectly normal for you.” she deadpanned as she picked up the album case which was currently open, “Looks like you’re enjoying yourself. What time did you get back?”

“11:16 last night. You, left the door open.” He reprimanded her as he slipped the disk back into its case, “Someone could have gotten in!”

“And they’ll see the giant dog under the table! No biggie!” She argued nonsensically, making the Doctor roll his eyes, “By the way…” she started as she slid down against the cubbyhole next to him “I called my aunt last night. I asked if she knew anything about Hora Rajahs or Werelords.” That got the Doctor’s full attention.

“What did she say?”

“Well, she has no idea what I was talking about,” she says, pulling out a small pocket notebook from where she tucked it within the blanket draped around her, “But she said that she recognizes it as an old folklore that Nanay used to tell them. It’s not a good story, by the way,” she cringes, “The Hora Rajahs end up as some sort of eldritch horror that eats children.”

“Oh, fun.” The Doctor sighs as he looks over the notebook, looking at her questioningly.

“I called my Lola—from dad’s side.” She says, flipping the notebook open, “She like, knows know everything. She’s a full-breed Were-lord, or whatever they’re called.”

“What? You mean from—”

“Gallifrey? Yeah.” She nods, pointing at a specific portion of the notebook, describing Werelords, “and so’s my dad, apparently. This is his medical book.” The notebook was a mix of English alphabetic informations and circular scribbles that Ares assumed were the same as the ones she’d seen before on the TARDIS.

“So, he knew. That you could transform.” He said.

“And so did my mom, and Nanay, and my Lolo from dad’s side—bless his soul, and dad’s siblings.” She listed.

“But your mother’s siblings don’t?”

“I don’t know. I’m going to go see my lola after the court hearing.” She shook her head, “I doubt Nanay would be so forthcoming with answers with you present and her worsening condition.”

“Do you want me to come?” the Doctor asked hesitantly, his hand coming up to his cheek subconsciously.

“Yes,” Ares rolled her eyes with an amused huff, “I told my lola about you being…you. she didn’t seem mad. Although, just in case, you hold onto my car keys so you can getaway fast.”

“Right.” He crunched his nose at her.

“Now get out of my room.” She shooed him away, knocking his shoulder, “I have to get ready to face this bitch.”

“Oi.” He flicked her on her nose, earning a glare, “I don’t know why the TARDIS stopped censoring you.”

“The situation calls for it. Oh, I’m gonna bury her alive!” Ares gestures crudely with her hands, choking the air.

“Please don’t end up in jail.” The Doctor groans as he stands on his feet, “I don’t have a replacement for you yet.” Ares only sticks her tongue out as she pushes him out her room and locking the door after him.

Chapter Text

Ares and the Doctor stands in the court room for approximately an eight minutes and twenty-four seconds—or at least, according to the Doctor. As soon as the presiding judge had taken his seat, the Défense attorney immediately puts a motion to dismiss the case. Ares takes down her makeshift balaclava, which earns audible gasps from the jury. The court room dissolves into chaos quickly, rebuttals from the prosecution’s side and more accusations. The Judge beats the gavel down, and calls both prosecution, defense, and Ares into his chambers with an irate huff.

“What is going on?” the Judge —Judge Rodriguez, according to his nameplate —demands

“As you can see, your highness—” Ares starts, her hands gesturing towards her person.

“–Your honor.” Her brother nudges her side.

“—I am alive and well.” She ignores him, grinning adorably towards the judge. By adorably, she means annoyingly.

“Which is why we want the case dismissed.” Their attorney butts in.

“They’re lying!” Klaire shouts, “That’s not AJ, look at her! She’s an imposter.” She was basically so red from anger as she tries to lunge at Ares. Thankfully, the plaintiff and the defense held her back, and her brother stepped between them.

“Please, contain yourself, Ms. Alvez.” The Judge reprimands her, before he turns to Ares, “You’re truly Dr. Martinez? Do you have proof? You’ve been missing for almost a year, why only show now?”

“That’s Classified information, your honor.” Ares says, “As for proof…” she taps her foot as she pretends to think, “Would you like my thumb print? My DNA sample? Recount of my childhood?” she said helpfully.

“Classified by whom?”

“UNIT.” Her grin widens as the words register to the Judge’s mind and he visibly tenses, recognizing the organization. He sits up straighter and clears his throat.

“Case dismissed.” He blurts out as her ushers them out back into the courtroom, hurriedly declaring the dismissal of the case, much to the rage and confusion of Klaire. Of course, everyone else was very much confused as well, but they excused the fast dismissal by the fact that Arista J. Martinez was alive, in the flesh.

As everyone was filtering out, Klaire stomps over to the Defense side and deals a blow to Ares’s face. The slap makes her physically stutter, stumbling back against the Doctor’s hold.

“This isn’t over, whoever you fucking are!” Klaire warned, venom dripping from her words, “I know you’re not AJ, you’re a fraud!”

“Hey, Klaire.” Ares narrowed her eyes at her, unlocking her jaw, “I’m gonna see you again, in this very court room.”

“What?” she startles a dry laugh.

“You think you can defame my brother so easily, and get away with it?” Ares stared at her unblinkingly, “I told you so many times, tantanan mo ang kapatid ko! Di ko alam kung anong klaseng sira ang meron ka sa utak at di mo yun maintindihan.” She presses her thumb onto her other palm out of habit, before she gestures for her brother and the Doctor to move along without her.

^{(“I told you so many times, leave my brother alone! I don't know what type of damage your brain has that you can't seem to understand that.”)}

“You don’t scare me. You’re a fa—” Klaire starts.

“I’m going to sue you with every possible misdemeanour and every felony under the sun, and run you ragged through the ground. And I swear to gods, Klarissa, when I’m done with you, you’ll be crawling on your knees to me…” Ares pats Klaire’s face gently, a sardonic smile on her face, “Just how you like it.” She doesn’t wait for her reply before she’s following her brother and the Doctor out the door, humming. She suddenly gets a great urge to play through Sabrina Carpenter’s songs, specifically Feather.

“So?” Anthony starts.

“So?” Ares raises her brows as kicks her feet in the water.

After their court hearing, her cousins arranged an impromptu swimming pool in their Grandmother’s garage —which was actually just two medium sized inflatable pools. There was seven of them in total; Robin Lorenzo, their cousin who was only younger than Zilliana by a few years, and Achi Louisa Canlas—she’s not Janella’s sister, of course.

It was Robin’s idea, arguing that they needed to celebrate and that should mean a pool party. They had invited the Doctor, but the Timelord only shook his head, so horrified by the prospect of being near water. Now, Ares is left to wonder if he actually bathes or if she’s been living with a slob all this time. The Doctor opts to volunteer in getting clothes for Ares from the Bungalow.

An hour later, their cousins had either rinsed off or shivered their way into the house to get something to eat, leaving the two alone.

“You gonna tell me what you’ve done for the past ten months?” Anthony dips his foot into her pool, the water spilling between as his foot weighs down on the inflatable.

“Bakit, close tayo?” She snarks, making a splash as she kicks his foot away.

^{("Why, are we close?")}

“Ayos.” He rolls his eyes, “I highly doubt na nawala ka dahil sa UNIT-UNIT na ‘yon. Like, no one believes that bullshit, by the way.”

^{("Be serious. I highly doubt that you were gone because of that UNIT thing."})

“Chismoso mo, ‘lam mo yon?” She deflects. She really doesn’t want to get into it right now.

^{("You're so nosy, you know?")}

“Siguro…siguro buntis ka, noh?!” Anthony brainstormed, “oh my god, that’s ten months! Bro, were you actually?”

^{("Maybe...You're pregnant, aren't you?")}

“Gago!” She laughs.

^("Stupid.")

“Hala, siguro nabuntis ka nung doctor na yun noh? T’as tinago nyo hanggang manganak ka, tapos—tapos! Ngayon umuwi kayo para sabihing magpapakasal na kayo para sa bata.” He theorized dramatically, prompting Ares to dunk his head underwater.

^{("Oh no, that doctor got you pregnant, didn't he? Then you guys kept it a secret until you gave birth, and then—and then! Now you're back to tell us that you're getting married for the baby's sake.")}

“Siraulo.” She thumps the back of his head.

^("Moron.")

“Aray, pota.” He rubs his head, hissing, “I don’t know why Klaire thought I would murder you. You’re clearly more capable of that.”

^{("Ouch, bitch.")}

“Weh? Kwento mo sa may pake.” She responds, standing up from her pool and wringing her wet shirt.

^{("Really? Why don't you tell someone who cares?")}

“You’re done?”

“I’m going to rinse off.” She excuses, shivering as she wraps herself in a towel. She hears her brother getting out of the water too, following her as she starts to walk in the streets, deciding to go back to the bungalow.

“Ate Yan.” He calls after her, “look, I know we’re not close or whatever, but you’re my sister. That means something, I think.” He sighs, “when you went missing, I thought you really died. Even with the letter. And I wasn’t there to protect you.”

“Sino bang may sabing protektahan mo ko?” She rolls her eyes, speeding her walk.

^{("Who told you to protect me?")}

“‘Te Yan.” He frowns, “Please…tayo na lang dalawa, oh. Are you really going to leave me too?”

^{("Sister Yan. Please...it's just us two. Are you really going to leave me too?")}

“That’s not fair.” It was her turn to frown as she halts her steps, “Look, I don’t want to talk about it right now. I’m just…too tired. Hindi ko kayang iexplain sayo lahat ngayon, masyadong marami ang nangyari, okay?”

^{("I can't explain everything to you at this moment, too many things had happened, okay?")}

“Okay. Then give me the cliff notes.” Anthony insisted, “I don’t need the whole story now.”

Ares huffed. How was she supposed to give him a rundown of everything without briefing him about the TARDIS? How does she tell him about the TARDIS without having to explain the Time-lords? How does she explain the Time-lords and not explain the Were-lords? How does she tell him about the—oh, I don’t know, the fact that she’s at least thirty years older since they last seen each other? How does she say all of this without having to explain everything, and hopefully not need a psych-eval because yeah, it sounds fucking insane!

“Ate Yan.” Her brother shook her arm, “Ano?”

^{("Sister Yan. What?")}

“Fine.” She sighed, “I got lost and trapped in a remote island, and the Doctor found me. I don’t want to explain to you how I got there, nor how I survived there. Not right now. Okay?”

“Okay.” Anthony nodded. He didn’t seem like any more enlightened as to why his sister had gone missing, only more confused than before, but he accepted it. His sister never liked explaining herself, “When you’re ready then…just, please don’t shut me out.”

“I’m not trying to.” She answered shortly, tugging her towel tighter around herself. She turned to her brother, watching him standing unsurely a few paces from her with a sigh, “…Do you want a…hug?” she offered, trying not to show her discomfort too much. Fortunately, Anthony had the same idea.

“Don’t ever ask me that. Ever,” He grimaces as he forced a shiver, “Gross.”

“Yeah.” She cringes, “let’s not…”

“Never speak of this—”

“—I agree.” She nods, resuming her walk.

“I’d rather go to jail, thanks.” Anthony says, making Ares cackle.

“I’d let you murder me, to escape that.”

Chapter Text

“Got everything?” the Doctor said with a roll of his eyes as Ares almost packed the whole bungalow into her car.

“I can put this in the TARDIS—we have a garage, right?” she ignored his comment, tapping the hood of her car.

“We do, now.” He scoffs.

“Oh, come on. It was just a week.” She bumped his side, trying to get him out of his sulking mood.

“I had to deal with your cousins.” He deadpanned, “They are unbelievably crass —like you. And I can only handle so much of you.”

“You could have jumped, you know? Didn’t have to stay.” She shrugged as the Doctor snagged her keys.

“And risk missing you for a century? No, thanks.” He snorts, “And I was worried that your grandmother would lock you up and never let you go with me again.”

“Oh, so you admit? You’re a terrible pilot?” that earned an indignant cry from the Doctor just as the engine turned, “What did you do with my grandma, by the way? She’s more…well, she hasn’t slapped you again.”

“I told her what happened to the Timelords. She seems to be a little bit more accepting of me, after learning that I was the only one.” He pauses, “…Accepting might be a stretch but she doesn’t seem inclined to kill me now.”

“How nice.” She rolled her eyes, just as the TARDIS came into view. The doors automatically opened, revealing a garage. It looked exactly as the console room, barring the absence of the console piece.

“Where to?” the Doctor asked, helping her get down.

“Should we visit my other Grandmother?” She wondered allowed, only to receive a groan from the Doctor, who was unloading a two large stackable boxes from her backseat, “Woah! I never noticed how strong you were. Are all Timelords like this?”

“Not another one,” he complains, ignoring her comment as he carried both boxes in his arms, “Look, I don’t mind you doing all that stuff, but I’m dying here!”

“All that stuff? You mean, visiting my family?” She replied incredulously.

“Domestic.” He says, as though it left a bitter taste in his mouth.

“Oh, don’t pretend you didn’t enjoy spending time with my cousins!” She laughed at his expression as he seems to recount the past week.

It was true.

Despite his complaints, the Doctor did seem to have enjoyed getting to know Ares’ cousins, only ducking out whenever her grandmother was well enough to join them. He wasn’t subject to Ares’ grandmother’s ire anymore, but he wasn’t about to push his luck.

Suffice to say, the Doctor has done things in the past week that he’s never done before, or hadn’t done in a long time. One of those has been to wear shorts due to the heat. It seems that not even Timelord biology could have helped cooling him down.

“Nine-hundred years, Ares. Nine hundred!” He had complained, “I’ve never worn shorts before! This is fantastic! Why is your country so hot, Ares?”

“I can’t tell if you’re happy or upset.” Ares commented as she poured powder down his back.

“I’m sweating! Can you believe that?” He huffs, “Me! Do you know how hot it has to be to make me sweat, and this much at that?” He gestured wildly to the sheen layer of sweat on his forehead.

“You’re being dramatic, it’s not that hot.” She paused, pressing a towel under his shirt, “…’right it is, but it’s not as hot as you’re making it out to be—“

“—not as hot! I’m wearing short sleeves, ‘Res! When have you ever seen me wear short-sleeves? I look like I’m going to Hawaii!”

“You’re just not used to it cause you’re white.” She rolls her eyes.

“Alien—.”

“—Look at me, I’m completely fine.” That was true. She was wearing a sweater and jogging pants, yet barely broke a sweat.

“That’s cause you’ve been conditioned to think that way.” He complained, “This has got to be some evil scheme.” Ares only laughed at him, before sending him back out to where everyone was playing.

After that, he had been roped (read: begrudgingly agreed) (read: he totally like it, but he’d never admit that.) into a sleepover in the Martinez’s residence with Ares’ cousins. Seven grown adults —Zion having to go to bed early for school— all cramped the living room as they rolled the carpets out onto the floor.

Of course, there was actually little sleeping done as they had spent the hours till sunrise singing and eating their hearts out, that the Doctor had actually managed to sleep through the rest of the day once they all decided to catch some sleep. He honestly doesn’t know how the rest of them managed to get up from the carpet before noon came.

Then he was subjected to Ares’ horrible driving.

Well, horrible was a bit of an exaggeration, but he did end up barfing as he stumbled out of her car. Ares blames the roads and traffic regulations in the Philippines.

“It’s not my fault the roads are fucked up!” She insisted, taking a sharp turn, “If they just chill it with the road renovations—I swear, it’s like they have no idea where to put the tax money!”

Then he had to be dragged away on a road trip with her cousins too. Thankfully, Ares didn’t drive this time.

“Baguio.” He deadpanned, “I could take you there in ten seconds.”

“Yes, but we’re going with my cousins. Do you want them in your TARDIS?” She raises her brow, squeezing his arm. He groans at the idea of new people in the TARDIS, “Come on. You’ll get to experience authentic Philippine tourism! We can pick strawberries and sunflowers!”

“You don’t even like real strawberries.” He grunts, grudgingly following where she tugs him.

“I like picking them.” She grins, “You can even wear your leather jacket up there, I know how much you like your style.” She sticks her tongue out to him teasingly as he flicks her ears.

“For the record, I’m not enjoying this.” He says, although the statement falls short as a smile takes over his face.

“Whatever. Have I told you about the time we went sunflower hunting?”

“I was coerced.” The Doctor insisted.

“Hmm…sure.” She grins happily as she stands by the threshold to her room, watching as the Doctor set her boxes down by her bed, “Fine. You can pick out next destination, I guess.”

“Oh, I can pick?” He quirked his brow disbelievingly as Ares giggled at his reaction, “Oi, miss, this is my ship.”

“Yes, yes, Doctor. Of course.” She smiled teasingly, “We’ll go wherever you wish to go to.”

“I feel like you’re not taking me seriously.” He glared.

“Really? Must be the wind.” She stretched her mouth into a toothy grin, shoving the Doctor out of her room, “Go pick our next stop —Tomorrow! Give me ten hours of rest before you find trouble.”

“Yeah, yeah.” He rolled his eyes, snagging the door on his way out.

Ares was six hours into her nap when the ship shudder and she rolled out of bed. Literally. She cursed as she swept her hair away from her face, groaning as she tried to get up from the floor and fail. She wasn’t hurt or anything, she just decided that it was more trouble than it was worth to try getting up.

Instead, she changed forms and got comfortable on the floor. She feels herself dozing off when footsteps ran rampant towards her door, and a light knock resounded around her room. She makes a sound of acknowledgment and seconds later, the Doctor is entering her room with a hand covering his eyes.

“Are ya’ decent?” The Doctor asked. He learned to never barge into her room after the time he did and found her naked, duvet half kicked off. Apparently, she has a habit of alternating forms in the middle of the night that she ended up deciding not to sleep in clothes at all, in case they tear through her transition.

Ares lets out a low howl and raise a paw in the air, which she definitely meant to as a single digit of her finger—toe? Paw-finger? Whatever.

“Oi! Don’t wave your finger at me, you overgrown puppy.” The Doctor admonished as he deemed it safe to come closer, hoisting her back up on her bed, “Are you going to stay like that?” Ares lets out another howl, the Doctor moving to find her collar and clipping it around her neck. Her bet dips as he sits at the edge beside her.

“You’re right. This is a little demeaning.” She comments, fluffing her pillows before flopping down.

“Can you say that again? I think it’ll go great as a door jingle.” His remark was ignored as Ares bit his finger.

“What the fuck did you do? I got thrown off across the room in my sleep!”

“It wasn’t me! The TARDIS just—“

“—Oh, The TARDIS did?”

“—she went haywire, and just landed somewhere!” He insists, and then pouts, “I don’t like your tone.”

“I don’t like how you pilot this ship.” She continues to try and bite his hand again while he playfully slapped her snout, “I told you, ten hours. Ten! I bet it hasn’t even been five hours, you really can’t stay still.”

“It has so been five hours since! Six actually!” He argued, closing his hand around her snout, “Stop it.”

“Whatever. Come back in four more hours.” She shakes him off and buried her head under her pillows.

“You’re missing out.” He tries, only to receive an exaggerated snore in response, “Fine. Suit yourself. I’m off, discovering new alien civilizations, while you sleep.” Ares only intensified her snoring until the Doctor ruffled the top of her head, before finally leaving.

.

.

.

Well, that’s just great!

How was she supposed to get back to sleep now? She almost growls. It’s not as if they had landed anywhere particularly interesting… ‘or did they —No. Go to sleep.’ She huffed to herself, basking in the darkness of her room.

Seconds pass by into minutes, Ares lays there with her eyes shut, fully intending to laze around until she falls asleep. There was only the soft sound her rumbling echoing in her room—

The door slams open. Bam!

“Are you sure you do—“ whatever the Doctor had to say was cut off by Ares’ throaty grumble as she kicks off her duvet, jumping down her bed.

“Ugh! Fine. You’re so stubborn.” She huffs, trotting out of her room, way ahead of the Doctor. If her tail wagged in the air, and if she heard him laugh, that was God’s business.

Ares passes by the console, and sits patiently by the doors, waiting for the Doctor to pull them open. Once the doors were wide open, she dashes out, circling around the floor area before she looks up.

“Is that…is that Earth?” She asks, pressing her face against the glass wall.

“Yeah.” The Doctor steps beside her, looking down at the planet with an ache she had seen before, “I think…this is when the Sun expands. This is—“

“The end of the World.” Ares finished.

Chapter Text

“The end of the world…” Ares finished his sentence, before shaking herself from her trance, “Sorry, that was morbid, wasn’t it? When are we?”

“Five billion years in the future, more or less.” The Doctor replies, his voice so soft as though he was afraid that he’d shatter the tranquillity of the moment. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah…” She nodded stiffly, “Five billion… would you look at that?” Ares sat down quietly, “Never thought I’d ever get to see this…”

“You lot,” the Doctor started, sitting down beside her as they both gazed at the planet, “you spend all your time thinking about dying, like you're going to get killed by eggs or beef or global warming or asteroids,” he spoke so softly, “But you never take time to imagine the impossible, that maybe you survive.”

“Bit hard to imagine if our very own planet tries to kill us every few decades.” Ares replied, “It’s nice.”

“Hmm?” the Doctor tore his gaze away the planet to look at her.

“Knowing that we succeed in putting ourselves out there. It’s comforting that we’re not just going to die because nature decided so.” She hummed sombrely, “Where are the humans now? Did they all leave Earth?”

“Oh, you know humans. They’ve proliferated with other species, moved to other planets. Earth must’ve been vacant for more than a century now.”

“Hmm, must be why it’s all green.” Ares half-joked.

‘Shuttles five and six now docking. Guests are reminded that Platform One forbids the use of weapons, teleportation and religion. Earth Death is scheduled for fifteen thirty-nine.’

The robotic announcement made Ares frown in confusion —or as much as her furry face could muster— as she took a good look around. She gets on all fours as she sniffed around, her feet padding against the tiled floors.

“Guests?” she titled her head at the Doctor, “Where exactly are we?”

“Erm… judging by the structural design, and the sound of the engine…” he paused, pressing his ear against the floor, “Hear th—”

“—Fibbing.” The wolf interrupted his performance.

 “Fine.” He rolled his eyes as he hopped up onto his feet, “We’re in an observation deck of some kind.”

“Nice. Who’s coming?” she asked, “I mean the guests. Anyone I’d know?”

“Maybe not. You know any rich people?” he asked with a teasing grin as he walked around, looking at displays.

“Does Mars count?” she joked, “Oh! I forgot about my severance. I wonder if this M. Lopez person or whoever handed in my resignation managed to do it for me.”

“Where would you even use it?” he snorted, “If we’re not on alien planets, we’re visiting before your time.”

“Well, it’s all right for you, you’ve got those credit sticks to pay for things,” she huffed, “And anyway, I worked hard for that money.”

“Yeah, yeah, we’ll stop by the bank after this. Oh, look!” he pointed onto a glass display, “They’ve got Harry Potter here.”

“Don’t touch the display. The last time you did—” she trotted after him.

“—I won’t touch it then.” He rolled his eyes, locking his hands behind his back for show.

“So, this is a party then?” she asked.

“Yup.”

“And… are we invited?” Ares looked at him sceptically. The Doctor pulled out his psychic paper from his jacket with a proud smile, “so, that’s a no.” she turned her tail and walked towards the TARDIS.

“Oi! Party’s this way, not in the TARDIS.” He called after her in confusion.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m dressing up so wait for me, yeah?” she huffed as she pushed the doors with her snout. She hurried into her room, changing her forms as her wardrobe opened up. The TARDIS must’ve been as excited as she is because there was a singled-out dress hanging in the middle.

“This is beautiful…” Ares marvelled as she ran her finger along the smooth silky fabric of the dress that reached the floor, with an off-shoulder effortlessly draping over one arm. As she took the dress off the hanger, it revealed a pair of bronze pumps that matched the emerald colour of the dress.

It took her about five minutes to put on at least a bit of make-up and curled her hair away from her face for the sake of dressing up. Once she was satisfied, she walked out of the ship with a matching bronze clutch —which was bigger on the inside— and met the Doctor back where she had left him, now arguing with a blue man.

“—That's me! I'm a guest. Look,” the Doctor brandished his psychic paper at the man, “I've got an invitation. Look. There, you see? It's fine, you see? The Doctor plus one —There she is!” he lit up upon seeing Ares walking towards them, beckoning her to come closer, “I'm the Doctor, that is Arista Martinez. She's my plus one. Is that all right?”

The blue man gave her a once over, as if assessing her appearance. He must have decided that she looked acceptable enough because he cleared his throat and gave them both a tight smile.

“Well, obviously. Apologies, et cetera. If you're on board, we'd better start. Enjoy.” The man said, not even bothering to wait for a reply before he walked away from them.

“Honestly, I can’t even leave you for just a second.” Ares teased the Doctor once the blue man was out of earshot, busy with announcing the guests.

“Hey, he came to me!” he says indignantly, “And you took your time. Had fun in Narnia?”

“Oh, please. I was gone, like, five minutes. You’re just really impatient.” She giggled.

Soon, they were approached by the tree —Tree!— people. Ares noted that they seem to be wearing clothes that almost resembled the medieval monarchs and wondered if she was a little over —or under, however you may see it— dressed, but seeing how the Doctor didn’t seem to be bothered by it, she brushed it off.

“The Gift of Peace.” The Tree woman —ugh, she should really remember their names. It almost sounds racist to call them Tree people. Speciest?— The woman gave them a small potted plant which honestly delighted Ares more than it should, “I bring you a cutting of my Grandfather.” ‘Oh.’ She cringed, hand cradling the pot more gently, ‘That sounds like responsibility.’

“Thank you. Yes, gifts. Er,” the Doctor patted around his jacket before a look of resignation befell on his face, “I give you in return air from my lungs.” He blew gently onto the trees’ —again, their names!—  faces. Ares sent him a look of thinly veiled disgust, while the tree people seemed to enjoy his gift.

“How… intimate.” The woman sighed delightedly. 

“There's more where that came from.” The Doctor bragged. 

“I bet there is.” The woman smiled, before their group was moving to the other guests. The Doctor’s gaze followed them, while Ares stared at him with a grimace. The smile on his face turned into a pout as he saw her expression.

“What?”

“I hope you brushed your teeth, before you subjected that poor lady with your breath.” Ares teased him. The Doctor only responded by sticking out his tongue, just as a little blue guy in a chair wheeled up to them.

“The Moxx of Balhoon.” The Doctor greeted ceremoniously, blowing on his face.

“My felicitations on this historical happenstance. I give you the gift of bodily salivas.” A tiny voice spoke, before spitting directly towards Ares’ face. A smile split on her face, although it was less out of joy and more out of politeness. The Doctor for his part, was grinning widely, a cough barely concealing his amusement.

“Thank you,” she clenched her teeth, taking deep breaths, “very much.” As soon as Moxx of Balhoon left them alone, the Doctor turned around and doubled over in laughter. This earns him a harsh step on his toes.

“I hope he brushed his teeth.” He wheezed out, handing her a handkerchief.

“I hate you so much.” Ares huffed as she wiped the saliva on her face carefully, “I’m not going to get face-babies, am I? That’s not a thing, right?”

“I don’t know.” He shrugged teasingly, “You might.”

“If I get Balhoon Pox, I’m making you patient 0.2.” she glared as the Adherents of the Repeated Meme passed them by, handing a metal ball to the Doctor, who gave it to Ares.

‘And last but not least, our very special guest. Ladies and gentlemen, and trees and multiforms, consider the Earth below. In memory of this dying world, we call forth the last Human. The Lady Cassandra O'Brien Dot Delta Seventeen.’ The Steward announced. The mention of the existence of the Last Human intrigued Ares, prompting her to stand on her tiptoes and try to squeeze past the taller guests to catch a glimpse of the Lady. She heard the Doctor laugh at her expense, before the space around them cleared and they both got pushed to the front.

Finally, the doors of the Manchester suite pulled open, revealing the Lady Cassandra.

“Oh, now, don't stare. I know, I know it's shocking, isn't it? I've had my chin completely taken away and look at the difference.” Lady Cassandra addresses the crowd, “Look how thin I am. Thin and dainty. I don't look a day over two thousand. Moisturise me. Moisturise me.” Two men in medical suits sprayed her with liquid, presumably a solution that kept her from rotting away.

Ares couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment.

Now, she wasn’t one to judge on whatever cosmetology operations people wanted to commit, neither does she really care. It’s not in her scope of study, she doesn’t care, she deals with dead people, she doesn’t care.

‘But five billion years, and all we’re remembered as is a skin sheet?’

No, that wasn’t right. She isn’t human anymore, is she? Ares doubts she ever truly was. She was a born Werelord; not a human, no real community, no real recorded existence. Anyone who she could ever truly relate to, is either dead, in hiding, or being hunted.

Sure, there’s her grandmothers, maybe some aunts and uncles…then what?

The one place full of people who could understand, answer her questions, make her feel like she belongs is, apparently, gone. Even if it wasn’t, she doesn’t think her kind would be welcomed there with respect.

…Her kind… right.

Suddenly, the reality of the situation is bearing down on her. Suddenly, this whole just got a little suffocating.

“…According to the archives, this was called an iPod.” The tiny blue men —Ares have dubbed them the Smurfs— wheeled out a Jukebox, “It stores classical music from humanity's greatest composers. Play on!” from the speakers of the machine, a familiar tune played for the guests.

‘Classical…classical music?’  That statement made Ares’ brain stutter. ‘Tainted Love is a classical music?’

“…Five billion years. Right.” She murmured disappointedly.

“Hmm? What did you say?” the Doctor paused his bopping, turning to her in concern.

“Nothing,” Ares shook her head, “Restroom, I said. I need to go.” She excused herself, narrowly missing the other guests on her way out. She knows the Doctor called after her, but all she could hear was the pounding of her heart —Hearts! Damn it!

Ares started running; she wasn’t even aware that she was until her feet started to strain and the incessant clacking against the tiled floor began to die down as she slowed her pace. She heaved, clutching the neck of her dress as she slid against the wall. Her face felt hot, and her throat felt sore; had she been screaming? No, she was crying. Her cheek was wet, and the mascara had smudged under her eye.

“Ares? Ares!” the Doctor’s voice sounded worried, and so far away. He dropped down beside her, and pulled her into his arms —at least that’s what she thinks happened.— Everything felt like a blur from the moment she left the party hall, she just felt unbearably sad.

“I have you, ‘Res.” The Doctor murmured against her hair, “I’ll be here…”

Chapter Text

Ares had stopped weeping a long time while. The Doctor did not ask why she cried; that seems to be an on-going theme between them. All he did was hold her, and wait for her to finish crying, whispering softly words of encouragement.

Truth be told, Ares doesn’t know why she feels so affected by the fact that she’s a completely different species than she had thought. Growing up, she definitely had no problems imagining it; to be some other worldly being, or a hybrid —she used to pretend to be a mermaid whenever they went swimming! She doesn’t understand why being a Werelord suddenly changes things for her. If she was being honest, she thinks it’s a little dramatic.

She chalked it up to feeling the other guests’ grief over loosing Earth. Stupid telepathy-schelepathy!

Since then, she and the Doctor had returned into the function hall. Ares followed him closely, slipping her hand into his as he conversed freely with the other attendees. The tiny blue men went around serving drinks and food, which she accepted graciously. Now that she wasn’t as high on emotions, she could really admire the diversity of the attending guests; variety in species, in size, and in mold. There was a literal head in a jar in one of the spaces, just looking on sombrely.

Oh, and there was a talking sheet of pizza-dough…

…Okay, that was mean. She grimaced.

The Last Human™ is a thin sheet of talking skin. How she was still functioning was beyond Ares —and that is talking from a medical standpoint. The Last Human’s veins were visible through her almost transparent skin, her brain is pickled beneath her steel frame —where is her heart!? No lungs, no organs, what does she do all day? No marrow, no spleen, no liver, that would explain her pallor. She’s definitely anaemic; she needs massive transfusions all her life —who’s donating blood to her and how!?

Of course, there was the issue of the gaping hole in the middle of her skin-sheet —she doesn’t have vocal cords, how is she talking!?— but she fears that any more thinking about it might send her into another fit of panic. She would have been more fascinated about it if she hadn’t been overwhelmed enough today, and if the Last Human did not border along the lines of body horror.

“Hey,” the Doctor’s voice pulls her out of her thoughts, “you alright?”

“Yeah…m’fine.” She replies, taking a deep breath and smiling at him.

“You know, it is two-way, right?” he says, shaking their hands together, “I can feel the whining in your head.” He knocks his other hand against her forehead.

“Ow.” she sighs bringing her palms to her forehead, “It’s nothing. Lady, uh —what’s her name? Cassandra. She’s a little… unnerving. Fascinating, but she concerns me.”

“What’s wrong with that?” the Doctor frowns, “She’s a skin tank, that’s all. Nothing wrong with it.” He says defensively.

“Didn’t say it was.” Ares says immediately, “It’s genuinely terrifying! Look at her!”

“I am looking!” the Doctor insists with a huff, “You’re being ridiculous.”

“No, you’re not. She looks wrong —she’s a talking skin graft!” she grunts, “Look! She’s missing so many innards, she's —her brain is outside of her body —she’s skin. She barely looks human —is that normal? Am I in the wrong here? Am I being —am I being discriminant towards her?” she hissed under her breath, “I can hear her loud and clear; She’s bragging, about chucking her kidney out to look flatter. Is that normal? Is that what humans become in the future?”

The Doctor didn’t answer, but he had a righteous frown on his face.

“Who am I kidding? Humans are well on their way to being that.” She laughed humorlessly, “I bet, that’s the real reason she’s the last of them; she’s the last to survive that kind of procedure.”

“Ares.” The Doctor reaches for her hand in attempt to calm her down, but she only stepped back.

“She’s talking about having her blood bleached…Bleached. White. I don’t know how much you actually know about the human body, but whatever she’s trying to bleach, I’m almost certain it’s her haemoglobin. It’s protein that is specifically tasked to carry oxygen, and it’s red. You know, the very thing that keeps her organs alive —Oh, wait, she had those chucked! I’m surprised she even kept her brain!” she ran her fingers through her hair, “Do you know where I’ve seen pale blood? On the slab, where I conducted autopsies on corpses.”

Ares didn’t wait for him to respond and ran, again; she seems to be doing that a lot today. She wasn’t sad anymore, she was furious. How dare the Doctor brush her concerns aside? How dare he try to accuse her of being less than fair? Couldn’t he see how wrong the Last Human is? How she smelt like death? —She’s a medical professional, for god’s sakes! How is she supposed to just stay silent about it?

Sure, free will, but at what point does it become too much. Ares doesn’t care what sort of technological advancement is available five billion years into the future —That is not human. That is something else entirely. Maybe it’s all the toxins that’s pickling her brain in that jar… Maybe she’s way out of her time —Ares, that is. Perhaps she’s overreacting now.

“Hah…” she sighs as she leant against a wall. She was far away from the function hall now. Was the spaceship shaking? It’s probably just the engine —these things have engines, right? Whatever. All Ares needs right now is some peace and quiet.

This is why she told the Doctor: Ten Hours.

The Doctor meant to go after her, he really did. Perhaps he had been a tad defensive when Ares started pointing out that the Lady Cassandra was all wrong; after all, she had only bravely said what he was already thinking about.

It’s true, he agreed that Lady Cassandra was rather an unusual presentation of a human —what with the lack of, well, everything. He can’t help but defend her though; he’s had enough experience of dealing with people who had big problems with non-abled persons. He should have known that Ares wasn’t like that —Never like that. She raised some very relevant points afterall, as a medical expert. How is Lady Cassandra functioning still?

Well, anyway, he meant to go after her; To tell her she was right, and that he was wrong to accuse her of discriminating against people of determination. He really was going to go after her.

...But the observation deck shuddered. The computers announced that it was only a gravity pocket, but he knew better. He always knows better. And that was precisely what he told Lady Jabe —that it wasn’t a gravity pocket, that is. He thought that saying he knew always better would be just a tad sour.

Lady Jabe offered to show him the maintenance ducts behind her suite; she asked if his wife would mind; His wife had long ago since died even before the Time War. Lady Jabe then asked if she —Ares apparently— was his concubine. That was when the Doctor realized where she had misunderstood him. Before she could call Ares any more titles, he had quickly clarified that she was only his friend, not anything

Well, that brings them to now. They had come back from the maintenance ducts to find that the Steward has already burnt in his office, the computers warning of the sun filters descending.

“Hold on, there's another sun filter programmed to descend.” The Doctor runs off towards the direction of where the sun filter was to descend. He stops in front of a smaller closed off section of the observation deck, some kind of viewing station, quite like the one —the one Ares had run into the first time!

“Ares!” he shouted in a frenzy as he tried to stop the sun filter from going down, “Ares! Are ‘ya there!? Answer me!”

“Sun filtering Descending.” Announced the computer calmly, which didn’t help an inch. Lady Jabe had long gone to warn the other guests of the ship.

“Yes, I know that!” he grunts in frustration as he trains his sonic onto the wall panel, “Ares! Now is not the time to go silent on me. Ares!”

“Sun filtering Descending.” It repeated annoyingly.

“Ares!” the Doctor kept shouting as he finally got the computer to cooperate, “Come on, come on, work —ARISTA!” he goes back the screaming against the door as the sun filter starts to rise back up.

“What?” he receives a disgruntled response from behind him, where Ares, amazingly, is standing with her hands on her hips, seemingly unaware of the chaos that had just befallen on the entire Platform One, “If you’re looking to lecture me —oomph!” she didn’t get to finish the rest of her sentence as the Doctor had pulled her into his arms and hugged her tightly. He manged to lift her a whole foot off of the ground that Ares was afraid he was going to start spinning her around.

 “I thought you were in there!” the Doctor says with a delighted grin as he finally released her.

“Why would I go in there?” Ares furrowed her brows in confusion, “No, I was walking around. I met Raffallo. She was teaching me plumbing of the year Five Billion. Say hi Raffallo!” she pointed behind her, where a blue-skinned woman had awkwardly stood there with a metallic ball in her hand. She held as though it would bite her —which it probably would, since it had metallic limbs sprouting around it’s body, trying to pinch its way out of the woman’s grasp— “Oh, yeah, and that thing tried to kill us.” Right, so not unaware completely.

“What? Where have you been?” the Doctor hissed at her and pointed his Sonic Screwdriver towards the ball of misfortune and it immediately stopped flailing, going limp in the woman —Raffallo’s hands, “I thought you were trapped. Again!”

“I was coming to find you, so I can tell you about the murderous squid-ball!” Ares argued as she plucked the metal thing out of Rafallo hold and waved it in front of his face, before pushing it into his grasp, “What about you? Where have you been?” she put her hands back on her hips and raised her brows.

“Trying to save you!” he huffed, gesturing towards the bolted door with his head, “Evidently, you didn’t need saving.”

“Sun Filter Descending.”  The computer’s robotic voice interrupted their argument. The Doctor is immediately back at the side of the computer panel with his Sonic.

“’Sun Filter Descending’, what does that mean?” Ares blinked, “Raffallo, what does that mean?”

“It’s the Space Station’s shielding system, miss. Once it fully descends, we’ll be completely vulnerable against the solar flares.” Raffallo says.

“and then we get roasted.” Ares deadpans. She walked up towards the door and banged her fist against it, “Hello? Is anyone in there?”

“No one’s been answering.” The Doctor informed her, “Either they’re unconscious, dead, or there’s no one in there.”

“Hopefully no one’s in there.” She sighs, “You have that sweeper thing, can’t we check?”

“I’ll have to manually input every possible species that could be on this Space Station. Some of them might not even be detectable by the device, it won’t work.” He grunts as he continues trying to fight with the computer’s controls.

“Fine. Then we’ll do a head count from the party,” she turned to Raffallo, “There’s an attendance list, right? We give the people something to focus on, so they don’t panic.”

“Good. Jabe is in there.” the Doctor says over his shoulder.

“The ...Tree lady? Why does that matter?” Ares frowned.

“She was with me in the maintenance ducts. That’s where we found that sort of thing, sabotaging the ship.” He rolls his eyes, shooing them away.

“Bet that’s not the only thing you found.” Ares mumbles as she beckons Raffallo to follow her back into the function hall.

“I heard that!” the Doctor yelled back to her as she retreats.

Chapter Text

Ares had just sat down for a moment, leaning against the wall. She took out her phone and snapped a picture of the hall; she wanted to show it to her cousins. Then she took a private one for her collection; a picture of the sun up-close —well, as close as safely possible, anyway.

She mounted her phone against one of the flat surfaces ahead of her and set a timer; she wanted to commemorate the day she went to space and dressed up nicely to gatecrash a space party —and she didn’t get scared!

“Oh!” she squeaked as she saw someone coming into the view of her phone camera, “Sorry, should I move? Do you need to work in there?” the woman didn’t respond for a moment before hesitantly opening her mouth.

“You have to give us permission to speak.” She says in a soft whisper.

“Oh! Then I give you permission to… speak.” Ares’s brows jump in surprise, the rest of her sentence ending with a frown.

“Thank you,” the woman says more confidently, “and no, you’re not in the way, Miss. Guests are allowed anywhere.” She says as she lays her tools down on the floor.

“Oh. Okay.” Ares collects her phone, now shy to take pictures, but she doesn’t leave; she crouches down by the woman and watches her works. This seemed to concern the woman.

“I won't be long, miss,” the woman said, “I've just got to carry out some maintenance. There's a tiny little glitch in the Face of Boe's suite,” she informed Ares with a grunt as she peered through the vent grills, “There must be something blocking the system; He's not getting any hot water.”

“Oh,” Ares nods, “So you’re like a …a maintenance staff?” she asks uncertainly.

“A plumber, miss.” The woman supplied.

“A plumber!” she echoed, snapping her fingers as she remembers the words, “Right, so you’re a plumber then? That’s cool. Sorry, words aren’t my best,” she gave a toothy grin, “What’s your name?”

“Raffalo, miss.” Raffalo says, “and it’s alright, miss. You gave me permission to talk, not many people are that considerate.”

“Wh at, they don’t let you talk?” Ares frowned, “Huh. Back where I’m from — well, that just wouldn’t do. The staff would’ve had you escorted out if you were rude… I guess that’s not really an option in deep space.” She snorted, “Where are you from, then? Not Earth?”

“Crespallion.” Raffalo smiled looking up from the vents.

“That a planet? Or like a …continent?” Ares guessed, “Sorry, am I distracting you? I can shut up.” She cringed.

“No, miss. You are not distracting,” she says with a soft laugh, “and Crespallion's part of the Jaggit Brocade, affiliated to the Scarlet Junction, Convex fifty-six.” Ares frown deepened, tilting her head like a confused puppy, “It’s a conglomeration of planets, miss.”

“Ah, Crespallion.” Ares nods knowingly, although Raffalo had a smile which told her that she doubted that she truly understood. Well, she’ll just have to ask the Doctor later.

“And where are you from, miss? —If,” Raffalo immediately deflates, “you don't mind me asking.”

“I don’t mind. I’m from— well, from Earth, I suppose.” Ares shrugged; she wasn’t sure if that answer would make sense to Rafallo, since they were literally waiting for the planet to get scorched by the sun.

“Do you mean New Earth, miss?” Raffalo asks as she kneels back down to the vent cover, pulling it off. It makes a metallic screech as she sets it down against the wall, “Sorry.”

“Nah, I think we’re a bit off to the left of New Earth,” Ares fibs, waving her hang in the air, “New Uranus, maybe.” She says with a snort, “Yeah, I should suggest that to the Doctor.”

“Control, I'm at junction nineteen and I think the problem's coming from in here. I'll go inside and have a look,” Raffalo announced to her mic-piece, a radio-scratch echoing, “Sorry, miss. I’ll just be a second.” She says, crawling into the vent slowly, shining a light in. Ares had pretty much lost interest with what she was doing; maintenance isn’t really her specialty, so she just went back to her phone scrolling through social media with her universal data. Thank you, Doctor!

“…Ah, there you are. Now, I just need to register your ident—" she hears Raffalo voice echoing within the tiny crawl space, her legs sticking out under her as she disappeared halfway into the vent, “Oh, there's two of you…” her voice lowered, almost in a whisper, and Ares didn’t hear her except for muffled murmurs that echoed from the vent. Then she saw Raffalo kicking her legs in distress, “Oh, no, no, no!” she squirmed and twisted, attempting to push herself back away, but it was like she was being pulled in by an unknown being.

Ares dropped her phone, rushing to grab a hold of the woman. With all her might, Ares pulled on her calf, causing Raffalo to fly backwards towards her, both of them hitting the wall across the vent; she had massively underestimated her newfound strength —there wasn’t real comparison to be made when the Doctor could hold his own against her any day.

Upon reflex, she caught the woman’s head and cautioned it before they knocked onto the wall, her hand taking the brunt of the impact. Only once they were both able and stable, did Ares notice the metallic squid stubbornly clipping onto Raffalo’s collar, its waggly legs flailing wildly in the air. She ripped it off the fabric of the woman’s clothing, almost crushing the sphere within her grasp, and held it up far away from them.

“You alright?” Ares asked with slight wheeze, her hand still beneath Raffalo’s head.

“Yes, miss, I’m —Oh, your hand!” Raffalo fussed as soon as she lifted her head. It wasn’t anything major, there was just a slight flushness on the back of Ares’ hand and knuckles; Nothing that wouldn’t heal in a few hours.

“It’s fine. It’s just, tender,” Ares flexed her hand to show her that she was alright. On her other hand, the metal creature also flexed its claws, trying to grab at her, “what’s this?” she asked pointing at it. Raffalo only shook her head.

“I don’t know, miss.” She said, “I’ll have to report it to the Steward. It might’ve snuck on-board with one of the passengers.”

“Okay, um…” Ares paused, unsure of what to do as she stared at the metal thing, “I should probably… I should find the Doctor. Show him this thing. He might know what it is; or not. It’s a gamble. 86% of the time, he’d probably know.”

“Miss.” Raffalo said in a soft whisper, catching her attention. She points behind Ares, where two robed figures were quietly approaching. The Repeated Schamaladingdong —or whatever it was. Ares remembers them, all mysterious, handing them a small ball of metal. ‘All in good time, my ass.’

“Go. Find the steward.” She says, shooing her away, “Call him here.” With a hesitant step, Raffalo followed her instruction, scurrying away to the direction of the Steward’s office, presumably.

Ares on the other hand, scrambled to her feet, still clutching the metal squid in her hand as she composed herself. She walked out from behind the wall she had knocked into and casually strolled by them. At least, she made an attempt to; the plan immediately fell through as the metal pest pinched her hand and scuttled away towards the robed people.

The next thing she knows is she’s waking up to the feeling of being dragged on the floor like a mop, sweeping the dust off the floor as one of them clutched her legs together —small mercies.

Ares took them by surprise as she tugged on her legs viciously, sending the robed figure tumbling backwards and crashing against the floor. Due to the force of her pull, the arms that were holding her legs had completely dislodged from their socket and dropped to the ground like a fish out of water.

Ares might have let out a shriek, but that was neither here nor there.

Both robed figures fell limp and crashed on the floor, pooling lifelessly beside Ares. She scrambled to her feet, clutching her head as she felt it throbbing due to having a metal arm bludgeon her to oblivion.

“Fucking metal men… no regard for other people’s feeling…” she complained as she felt her vision swirling a bit, hissing when she poked at a particularly painful spot. She hopes she’s not getting another concussion for this.

After concluding that it wasn’t anything major, straightened her dress and made sure there wasn’t any tear or smears. Then she crouched down next to the robed men, curiosity getting the better of her. She rolled up the sleeves where their arms came out of to reveal a bundle of cheap wirings that had previously been connected to the limb.

“What the… hell….” Ares mumbled. She knocked her hand against what should have been a thoracic cavity of the alien, but she only heard the thump of metal, “Cyborgs?” Suddenly a metal squid comes scuttling from underneath the cyborg’s robe, making Ares shriek again in surprise before she lunges after it, trapping it in her grasp.

She wanted to inspect the metal body more but she heard footsteps coming her way. She grabbed the robed men and hastily shoved them into an empty observation deck, locking the doors after she exits the room. She quietly slipped away, looking for the Steward’s office. Hopefully, Raffalo was more successful than her.

Lady Jabe had found her first, rushing to her side as soon as she entered the function hall. She had a frantic look on her face, looking hopeful around for the Doctor.

“Is he with you? The Doctor?” she asked Ares, “You are Ms. Arista, yes?”

“Yes. He’s still trying to stop the Sun Filter from dropping,” Ares tells her, “We need a list of the guests. Do we have attendance sheet. Do you know where they keep it? Where’s the blue guy who was announcing stuff earlier?”

“The Steward? He is dead.” Lady Jabe informs her.

“Okay, so that’s the same guy,” Ares breathed heavily, trying to keep her calm, “we’ll just have to ask the guests to keep count of everyone they arrived with. Lady Jabe, you take the right, I’ll take left, Raffalo confiscate the metal balls. Let’s go team.” She gives them a half-convincing cheer before doing a round. Ares interviewed Cal Spark Plug, Mr. and Mrs. Pacoo, The Ambassadors of city state of blinding lights, and The Face of Boe’s entourage. Everyone seemed to be accounted for.

Lady Jabe approached her, holding a metal device.

“Everyone seemed to be here, except for two from the Adherents of the Repeated Meme.” She says, pointing to the robed men. ‘Ah, so that’s what they’re called.’

“They’re in a room, somewhere on this thing. They clubbed me earlier,” Ares whispered, earning a look of concern from Lady Jabe which she only waved off. Ares looks at the device in her hands, “what’s that?”

“It’s a metal machine. Scans… well, anything.” Jabe says, “it confirms that the Spider devices have infiltrated the whole of Platform One.” She informs Ares just as Raffalo comes back from collecting the metal balls. Their hushed conversation is heard by the other guests nearby, igniting the panic.

“How is that possible? Our rooms are protected by a code wall!” Lady Cassandra cries in panic, “Moisturize me, Moisturize me!” She yelled to her attendants. Ares diverted Jabe’s attention else where as the guests demanded that the Steward be summoned.

“There. Can you tell me what kind of species they are?” Ares pointed out the Adherents, “are they… alive?” Jabe nodded minutely as Raffalo cowered behind Ares once the guests began demanding answers.

“The Steward is dead.” Ares told them bluntly, “We’re already trying to fix the problem so can everyone just quiet down and relax? Anyone who’s combustible get to the ground. Feathers, you’re up first.” Ares commanded the room and no one had the guts to disagree with her. Mr. and Mrs. Pacoo laid in the ground flat, the Moxx of Balhoon following close.

“Is there anyway Lady Cassandra can be lowered or laid over?” Ares approached the Last Human and her team of cosmetologists.

“This whole event was sponsored by the Face of Boe. He invited us,” Lady Cassandra huffed, “Talk to the Face, talk to the Face!” She cried, making Ares roll her eyes.

“So can I lay her down, or will she be the first to set fire?” Ares asked the attendants with exasperation. At the same moment, the Doctor comes striding in with a deep frown on his face, hearing Lady Cassandra's complains.

“Easy way to find out,” he waved the metal ball in the air, calling everyone’s attention, “someone brought their little pet on board. Let’s send him back to master.” He pointed his Sonic Screwdriver at it and legs sprouted from it. The Doctor placed it on the floor, nudging it with his foot when it refused to move.

The sound of metal clicking against the tile echoes in the as the robotic creature’s nimble legs trotted around, its spherical head bobbing around like a dog sniffing at strangers. For a moment, it stops in front of Lady Cassandra and everyone waits with baited breath, until it scuttles away towards the robed men.

“The Adherents of the Repeated Meme!” The Lady Cassandra was the first to shout in rage,  “J'accuse!” how she managed to make her cheeks puff with that thin layer of skin is truly beyond Ares —'does she even have muscles at this point?'

“That's all very well, and really kind of obvious,” The Doctor scoffs, his lips pressing into a thin line as he shoots a dissatisfied look towards Lady Cassandra, “but if you stop and think about it…” a robotic arm shoots out towards him as he walked closer to the Adherents of the Repeated Meme, but the Doctor grabs onto it faster than it can do any damage. With a harsh tug, he pulls the whole arm off, wires dangling in the open.

“Wow. Where’d they come from? Temu?” Ares rolls her eyes, just a Lady Jabe hands her the computer machine. ‘Android’, that’s all it says about the Adherents.

“A Repeated Meme is just an idea. And that's all they are,” the Doctor says with disinterest as he pulled on the wires hanging out from the arm, “an idea.” The Adherents collectively sagged and collapsed into a lifeless pile of robes and electronics on the floor.

“Remote controlled Droids. Nice little cover for the real troublemaker,” he scoffs, sending the tiny bot tumbling as he nudges it with his foot, “Go on, Jimbo. Go home.” Everyone gasps in shock as the metal spider runs towards Lady Cassandra and stays there no matter how much the Lady tried to shoo it away.

“Ugh! I bet you were the school swot and never got kissed,” Lady Cassandra grunted, “At arms!” her attendants raised their spraying guns at the Doctor.

“What are you going to do, moisturise me?” The Doctor deadpans.

“With acid.” Lady Cassandra glared, “Oh, you're too late, anyway! My spiders have control of the mainframe. Oh, you all carried them as gifts, tax free—”

“Oh my god! Is this important?” Ares cut her off as she walked up to Lady Cassandra’s attendants and snatched their guns away, “This is confiscated. Does any of you have anything else to add to help us not burn? No? Raffalo? Doctor? Lady Jabe?”

“Reset the computer!” the Moxx of Balhoon suddenly shouts with his pitchy voice, “You should reset the computer!”

“Great idea!” Ares clapped her hand, “What does that do —no, how do we do that?”

“Uh…” he stammered.

“Only the Steward would know how.” Lady Jabe, seemingly the most knowledgeable person on board right now, says.

“There’s a system restore switch… miss.” Raffalo spoke up hesitantly, being mindful of the other guests around.

“Where? How?” Ares urged her on.

“The maintenance duct.” The Doctor snaps his fingers, “We can do it by hand, come on.” He grabs the spray guns out of Ares’ arms and gives it back to the attendants, then pulls Ares with him towards the exit.

“Jabe, Raffalo, you’re in charge ladies!” Ares shouts, “Don’t let them close to the glass. Lay low!”

Chapter Text

‘Earth Death in Four Minutes’

The Doctor leads Ares with him through the Maintenance Duct, the same way Lady Jabe had showed him. Sweat was starting to build up on top of his brows, his grip on Ares never wavering as they ran —and considering their physique, moreso Ares, they reached the Engine Room pretty quickly.

Ares couldn’t help but cough up as they got closer towards the engine —specifically the propellers. She could feel the air getting spat at her, her dress billowing behind her as the big metal fans turned. Despite the wind blowing against them, Ares and the Doctor could feel sweat trickling down the back of their neck; Whether it was from the heat being generated from the engine, or just the ridiculousness of this whole situation, Ares might have to schedule a session with her therapist soon; she’s long overdue for thirty years or so.

‘Earth Death in Three Minutes.’ The computer announced.

“Oh,” the Doctor groans, “and guess where the switch is?” Ares followed the Doctor’s gaze, squinting across the catwalk —because yes, it was that far.

‘Safety Systems Failing.’

“Which idiot— oh my god!? Why?” Ares rubbed her hands down her face as though she was willing it to come off so she didn’t need to be here for this. The Doctor walked over to her side, pulling off a glass unit off from the wall —it looked more like a giant fire alarm— he pulled the lever down, effectively slowing the turns of the fans. However, as soon as he walked away to cross the bridge, having let go of the lever, the propellers increased their speed again.

‘Heat Levels Rising.’

Both of them stood there looking at the turbines as it spun wildly, the air punching right back at them in their attempts to get closer. The Doctor looked at it with a calculating look as though he was trying to figure out how it worked —although Ares was skeptical; there was no way he had that much to think about a fucking spinning propeller. Then again, she wasn’t engine smart, so who knows.

Ares on the other hand only regarded the stupid propellers with a look of contempt; if she could lunge at it and bite off its pieces, she probably would have.

“Can’t you sonic it?” Ares asked, calling his attention.

‘Earth Death in Three Minutes.’

“Too big. I don’t know where the cables are either,” the Doctor informs her with a frown, “and I don’t know if I can control the speed of those turbines at that scale. Then we’ll get pulled into the Earth’s gravitational field —the safety systems are already down, the engine’s the only thing keeping us safe.”

‘External Temperature: Five Thousand Degrees.’ The computer interrupted them, ‘Heat Levels Critical..’

“Somewhat safe.” The Doctor amended with an eye roll.

‘Heat Levels Critical.’

“Yes, we can feel it! We’re working on it!” Ares yelled back at the computer, “What about the reset switch? That is the reset switch, right?”

“The range is too far,” he sighed, “I’ll have to do it manually.”

“Oh, why did you take me?” Ares stomped her foot in frustration and smacked his arm, “should’ve taken Raffalo, she might’ve known some sort of, like, a secret bypass, override, control something!”

“Ow! Is this helping!?” The Doctor exclaims, “Just hold this down, yeah?” He walks back and pulls the lever down again, “I’ll go run and reset the damn thing.”

“You?” Ares furrowed her brows but put her strength against the lever nonetheless, “but I’m faster—“

“—with what legs?—“

“—don’t get smart with me.” Ares huffed, “I’m faster than you, and I actually spent years evading bear traps—“

“—Unsuccessfully!”

“I’m faster! Stop arguing with me.” Ares almost kicked him out of frustration.

‘Heat Levels Critical.’ The computer chimed again.

“Hold this.” The Doctor reluctantly follows her beckon, taking her place against the lever. She takes off her heels —and as much as she loves her dress— she rips it off around her knees and uses the excess fabric to braid it into her hair.

“If you fall, I’m going to say ‘I told you so,’ and laugh so hard.” The Doctor deadpans.

“What a good friend you are.” She rolled her eyes while jumping with her toes, “I don’t know if it’s Dodge-ball or Patintero… What do I do when I get there?”

“See, you don’t even know. I’ll do it—“

“—Stay!” Ares leveled him with a glare.

“Fine.” He grunts, “You have to pull the switch and shout a command, to repair the systems.” The Doctor relents.

“What, like, ‘Repair Safety Systems’?”

“—Raise shields, like that, yeah.” Ares nods her head in acknowledgment, sending him a thumbs-up. She faces the path she’s about to take.

Truthfully, she’s scared of the big propellers. Her minds is working overdrive, cooking up scenarios of how she would likely die —doesn’t really help when you’re —

‘Earth Death in Two Minutes.’

—two minutes away from getting barbecued! Imagining how you’ll be lamb chops doesn’t exactly boost morale before you have to cross the bridge of Master Chef—‘Oh, why am I thinking about food at this time!?’

She suddenly feels very afraid and a hand covering hers.

“You don’t have to do this, Ares.” The Doctor says, looking at her with those big blue eyes, and it makes her want to poke it cause he’s still holding her hand and making her feel afraid, so she’d back out. ‘Stupid schlepathy!’

She brushes his hand off and her cowardice retreats to whichever circle of hell it crawled out from.

“Can you do me a favor?” she glared at him, “Can you at least pretend to have some faith in my skills? I’ve outran and outlived a Dalek.” she huffs.

Without any more second thoughts, she jumped the gap between the blades of the propeller. The Doctor almost let go of the lever, subconsciously reaching forward to follow her through with a flinch; although whether that was because of how suddenly she ran through the moving blades, or the mention of a Dalek, was unclear. Thankfully, he remembered to lean his full weight down on the lever before Ares could become lamb steak.

‘ Heat Levels Rising.’

Ares jumps through the first blades without much thought nor difficulty. It was once she found herself between two propellers did she began realizing a problem; the propeller behind her is sucking in the air and the one in front of her is pushing it right at her. She could very well become kebab meat. Not only that, but the air was assaulting her in ways that could be banned by the Geneva Convention, her nose might actually start bleeding.

‘Heat Levels Hazardous.’

Hearing the computer’s warning, Ares slipped through the second propeller. She stops just a few paces before the last propeller and awaits its turning. She barely had a few seconds between the second section before she’s gunning for the final barrier between her and the switch. Ares doesn’t stop running until she’s pulling the reset switch down with a resounding click.

“Raise shields!” she yelled aloud, wheezing after as she catches her breath, “Repair safety systems! Please.”

‘Planet Explodes in Ten, Nine, Eight…’

‘Exoglass Repair. Exoglass Repair. Exoglass Repair. Exoglass Repair…’

Ares breathes a sigh of relief and slumps down against the wall. The propellers began slowing down naturally. She could finally feel like she wasn’t playing tug-o-war with the fan for the air, and she could breathe without getting her soul sucked out of her.

“You did it!” wide arms enveloped her, squeezing the absolute life out of her. She wasn’t even aware that the Doctor had crossed the bridge without assistance because of how fatigued she feels. It was just now sinking into her; she just crossed three high-speed propellers like a fucking daredevil; she could have died.

The scene that greets the Doctor and Ares was rather somber. The Sun had expanded and destroyed Earth with it while they were walking back to the Manchester Suite. Not that Ares was particularly interested; there has to be some sort of media coverage for this, so she’ll just watch at a less exciting time.

Most of the guests were either laying down on the tiled floor, or were sitting down; the Moxx of Balhoon was notably still in his highchair but he had been moved towards the back of the room. A lot of them were sweating —in whatever way their species sweat— some were flapping large pieces of their clothing to generate some breeze; Mr. and Mrs. Pacoo were especially helpful in this area.

The absence of Lady Cassandra and her attendants was unmistakable.

Ares approached Raffalo first, who was among the Face of Boe and his group of people.

“How was everyone? Did anyone get hurt?” she asked the woman.

“Miss!” Raffalo perks up upon seeing her, “Everyone seems to be doing quite fine, but miss, Lady Cassandra has used a teleport device to leave.”

“Come with me,” Ares sprang into action, grabbing a metal tray from the food station. It took her two glasses of water before she could get on with making rounds with Raffalo in distributing refreshments for the other guests. Meanwhile the Doctor had just broken an ostrich egg relic, revealing a device inside.

“…Idea number three, if you're as clever as me,” the Doctor pointed his sonic at the device, “then a teleportation feed can be reversed.” In an instant, Lady Cassandra reappears, in the middle of a laugh.

“—Oh, you should have seen their little alien faces!” She laughs, then looks around, “Oh.”

“The Last Human.” The Doctor sneers. It makes Lady Cassandra a little skittish —as much as can be seen from her very thin, stretched out skin.

“So,” she fibs, “you passed my little test. Bravo.” She says, a little bit too fast to be anything but a lie, “that makes you eligible to… join, er… the Human Club!”

“The Steward is dead, Cassandra. Because of you,” the Doctor glared at her, “All of these people could’ve died. You could’ve killed them!”

“Oh, shut it, Dumbo! It was just one little alien.” She scoffed, “if it wasn’t for you —meddling —party poopers!”

“So close.” Ares muttered under her breath as they finished assisting the rest of the guests.

“And it depends on your definition of people,” She laughed, “and that's enough of a technicality to keep your lawyers dizzy for centuries.” Lady Cassandra looked at the Doctor like she had already won. “Take me to court, then, Doctor, and watch me smile… and cry …and flutter…”

“And creak?” The Doctor shot back.

“What?”

“Creak.” He replied like it was the most natural thing, “you’re creaking.”

“What?” Lady Cassandra panicked, “Ah! I’m drying out!” She cried —figuratively. Ares didn’t think she had enough fluid to produce actual tears.

“Oh, sweet heavens. Moisturise me, moisturise me! Where are my surgeons? My lovely boys! It's too hot!” She continued to look around helplessly —cause what else could she actually do?

“You raised the temperature.” The Doctor said coldly.

“Have pity! Moisturise me! Oh!” She begged, “oh. Doctor! I’m sorry, I’ll do anything!”

Ares grabbed the Doctor’s hand tightly. She was bracing herself for the inevitable; there’s nothing they could do for Cassandra. It was likely that whatever acid she had her attendants spray on her was a special concoction that water would not compare. Still, she owes Cassandra to at least try.

Ares doused the rest of her water down Cassandra’s face. For a moment, Cassandra experienced relief as her skin cooled down and moisture. Cassandra smiled at Ares for a brief second, then her skin bursts into pieces. Gasps echoed around the room.

“Everything has its time and everything dies.” The Doctor tells her softly, squeezing her hand as he pulls her into a hug.

“…I know.” She whispers.

Chapter Text

The sun expands and the earth explodes. Beneath the suites and the rumbling engines, four hearts beats in sync. As a bright light filled the darkness between them, Ares and the Doctor held onto each other tightly.

“We should get back to the party.” The Doctor whispered as the light faded back.

“Yeah.” Ares replied shakily, clinging to his arm.

Tears welled up in her eyes as she hugged the Doctor. Ares is scared— a little too late given that she had already done it; she had already crossed the bridge. She had done what she needed to do, she had already repaired the shields as planned, it was over. The sun had exploded; it was over.

But Ares is scared.

“Hey, hey, Ares?” The Doctor patted her back, “what’s wrong? Are you hurt? Let me see.”

“I’m o-okay…” her voice trembles ever so slightly as she shuts her eyes to keep the tears from falling, clutching onto his leather jacket tightly, “I’m not hurt, I’m fine… just give me a second.”

The Doctor seemed to be at a loss of what to do as Ares sobbed. He held her tighter in his arms; he knows she needs it. He just held her. He slid down next to her against the wall, tucking her face into his chest.

“Did you know that space actually is silent?” The Doctor whispered, “cause space is a vacuum. Everything just gets funnelled so sound waves can’t travel anywhere… so in reality, all this… explosion is happening in silence.”

Ares barely listens but she knows that he’s talking. Somehow that soothes her a little.

“Scientists —Earth scientists, that is,” the Doctor continued, “they predicted billions of years ago that the Milky Way —that’s where you’re from, and me— it was supposed to collide and merge with the Andromeda galaxy,” he tells her, “unfortunately they did get the whole dating system wrong so instead of 3.75 billion years, it actually just took 3.73 billion years.”

“How —“ Ares sniffled, “how wrong was the date?”

“A years actually has 13 months with 28 days each.” The Doctor supplied, “a perfect 364 days.”

“What about,” she hiccups, “what about the birthdays?”

“Ah,” he thinks, “well, you were born on the hundred thirty-second day of the usual year…” he paused to mentally compute, “you’d have been born on the twentieth of July.”

“July?” Ares finally stops sobbing, wiping her face. Most of her makeup have rubbed off now, “Best makeup remover.”

“It goes April, May, June, Sol, July, August, September, October, November, December, January, February, March,” he lists off as Ares detaches from him, rubbing her cheeks, “You look like a panda.”

“Oh, thanks,” Ares snorted rubbing her under eyes.

“Here, let me.” The Doctor produces a pack of wipes from one of his pockets, wiping the smudged eyelids clean.

“Don’t suppose you have a spare make-up kit?” She says with her eyes closed.

“I’ll make sure to pack one next time. Noted, boss.” He chuckles.

“What else you got there?” Ares asked, “got some food in there?”

“You just ate, you almost cleaned the buffet.” He snorts, “There. Clean.”

“Thanks,” Ares smiles, “Silver lining: I didn’t rip my clothes off.”

“Not all of it at least,” he raised a brow at her hair, “and a pack of ties. Want indian?”

“I don’t think you’re allowed to do that anymore.” Ares replied cheekily as she fiddled with her ripped off dress. It took the Doctor a second to catch up to her joke.

“Oh, shut up.” He huffs. He stands first, pulling her up to her feet, “Better?”

“Hmm.” She leans on him as they crossed back on the bridge easily, now that the turbines are way higher than they first had been, “what ‘appened to them?” She points upwards.

“Huh? Oh, I adjusted them,” the Doctor informs her, “didn’t you hear me? I was shouting at the computer.”

“Ah.” Ares nods, not questioning it further. She was genuinely tired to the bones, “I think I want to eat something filipino tonight.”

“That’s cannibalism, ‘Res.” The Doctor quips, seemingly proud of himself with how he responded.

“I think wolves get free passes,” came Ares’ swift reply, “I want street food.”

“Yeah. We can have that.” He smiles as Ares curled her arm around his, leaning on him as they walked along the corridors back to the party, “You know —I have to say this cause it justifies my theory, the Philippine heat was much stronger than this just now.”

“The Philippines isn’t a conspiracy, Doctor.” Ares chuckles as the Doctor continues to complain about the heat in her homeland. For a moment, the disaster upstairs was lost on the two of them. They’re in their own peaceful world where it’s all laughs and happy thoughts; just for a moment.

Chapter Text

Ares waited for the Doctor. He was making sure that all the other guest had safely left the Platform and so are the staffs. He tried to invite Raffalo and Lady Jabe, both of whom refused, saying that the adventure really wasn’t for them.

“Hey,” Ares turned to find the Doctor walking over to her, a small bronze clutch in hand, “Raffalo managed to keep it safe. Here.”

“Thanks.” She checks the contents once before tucking it under her arm, “are we leaving?”

“Yup. Are you hungry?” He hooked his arm around her shoulders as they walked back towards the TARDIS, who welcomed them readily.

“Very,” she groaned, “it must be faster metabolism. The amount of food I consume daily without gaining extra weight is unbelievable.”

“Yeah. You’re a bottomless pit, you are.” He chuckles, sending her off back to her room, “get changed, or whatever it is girls do.”

“Maybe you should do what it is girls do too,” Ares teased, pinching her nose together, “it’s noticeable.”

“What— I do not smell!” He cries indignantly as Ares cackles along the hall.

Despite his insistence, the Doctor did change his jumper, a lighter shade at that. This time though, he’d forgone the leather Jacket seeing as it really was so hot in the Philippines, unnaturally so, according to him; Ares, of course, doesn’t believe him.

Ares came back after ten minutes or so in a loose band t-shirt and pair of Bermuda shorts. Her tiny —about the size of her palm— crossbody bag, which was probably bigger on the inside, hangs on one shoulder.

“Want to see Queen after this?” He asks, taking her bag from her as she bends down to tie her rubber shoes.

“I was thinking you were never gonna ask,” Ares flashes him a little mischievous grin, “Where’s the leather?” She asks once they were out the door.

“It’s hot.” He complained as the sun shined on them.

“Oh, you’re dramatic. You’ll never survive the emirates. You’re so white.” She teased him, “have you got bills?”

“Not on me.” He shrugged as they walked along the marketplace.

“Cheapskate, you are.” She huffs, but her smile doesn’t slide off her face anyway as they found a food stall.

In the end, Ares had four sticks of kwek-kwek, a full cup of proben, two sticks of barbecue, and five sticks of isaw. The Doctor did try to match her pace but he gave up halfway through the proben. They walked away from that stall with a large cup of Buko Juice each.

“Bottomless, I say. You are an eating machine.” The Doctor mumbled.

“You just have a weak stomach —oh! Look, they’re have puto bumbong.” Ares pointed, “hold this.” The Doctor held onto her juice as she bounced along towards the stall, waving her money in the air for food. She comes back ten minutes later with a plastic bag full of ten —twenty banana leaf-wrapped sticky rice sweets. She looks proud of herself too as the stall owner began closing down her spot for the day.

“Good?” He raised a brow, “Satisfied with yourself?”

“Uh-huh.” She goes back to sipping her drink after she unceremoniously jabs the plastic bag into her sling bag —which the Doctor still carried.

“Remind me to take you to old Greece. I heard they loved food there.” He says, “You’d fit right in.”

“I’ve never been to Greece.” She finished her drink clean, disposing it in a near bin, “is it like they say? Like —like, Achilles and Patroclus?”

“What are you asking me right now?” the Doctor gave her an amused look as he likewise sipped his drink slowly; small mercies under the scorching heat, “Are you asking if it’s as queer as Aeschylus and Plato thinks it is?”

“Don’t know who Aechy —Aeschylus? Never heard of him. Her?” She shook her head, “look, I actually don’t know a lot about Greece aside from the myths and gods and whatevers. Don’t really hear about them unless it’s about vacation or something. Or the one time in Social Studies where we learned about the war between Athens and Sparta, and I don’t remember half of it.” She says, “Or Goddess Girls.”

“Greece is great! It’s like a free world. Art flourishes everywhere, there’s medicine —good food, you’ll certainly like it. They’ve got some —if not most— of the famous bards and Philosophers of all time. Like Plato!” he talks animatedly as they walk by the market stalls, “and Aeschylus. He wrote a play based on Achilles and Patroclus being lovers.”

“You really love Greece, don’t you?” she nudged him playfully, “and isn’t it… hot?”

“Well, certainly not as hot here.” He chuckles, “And yes. To answer your question, it is quite queer. But not as you might imagine. It’s an ancient civilization so their social concepts are still a bit rudimentary compared to yours.”

“Well, there we go. You can take me to ancient Greece later.” Ares decides, “and by later, I mean a day or two. Truly a day or two. Maybe after we see Queen.” She grins up at him.

“Maybe we’ll watch a play while we’re there,” the Doctor mused, “You like plays, don’t you?”

“I like musical plays,” Ares frowns, “Well, I like one Shakespeare play. I hate one Shakespeare play—”

“The Taming of the Shrew, yes, I know. You burned your copy of the play, I know.” He nods placatingly, “Your blood pressure, woman.” He jokes, “Let’s see a Greek play. From…hmm… Aristias!” he laughs to himself proudly.

“Oh, funny. Wow.” She replies sarcastically, “On the very sane assumption that she is real, what kind of, um, genre is it?”

“He writes tragedies.”

“Not sins?”

“Huh?” the Doctor frowns.

“Nevermind,” Ares stuck her tongue out, “So, what’s so great about his tragedies?”

“Don’t know. Never seen it.” He grins at her.

“You’re the worst universal tour ever.”

It was midday, four hours since they left, when they finally went back into the TARDIS. Ares had begun complaining about her aching feet, when in reality it was her who couldn’t stay still and ventured through every stall they had come across. She took home five stupid looking —her own words— plush key rings and a total of ten figure keychains that sounds a bell each time she moved. They were all varying shades of violet and weighed down impossibly on her bag —all of them.

The Doctor also seemed taken liking to spending money not his own —her words— as he took home ten keychains as well; One for each key he owns, he says. He also bought a bunch of toys, most of which are knockoffs of the real thing. Namely a wheeled dog attached to a sort of walking stick that lit up and spun a propeller on its head as it moved. He seemed oddly fascinated with it the most.

The Doctor orbits them in the vortex as soon as they got back. Ares made a pit stop to her kitchen to deposit the rice sweets in her fridge before calling out a tired ‘goodnight’ to the Doctor. He was likewise headed into his own room, taking a page out of Ares’ habits.