trigger warning: brief references to mj's sexual assault

*

Jack makes the fluffiest omelets MJ's ever seen and crispy home fries for breakfast.

MJ's ravenous. She eats two massive omelets (stuffed with sausage, peppers, and mozzarella cheese) and finishes her and Rose's portions of home fries. She even has a couple of slices of toast. The Doctor and Rose watch her with concern, worried about the lingering side effects of (mostly) dying and coming back to life, but Jack just looks impressed.

"I'll have to add you to the chore wheel when I get a chance," the Doctor tells Jack. Yes, they have an actual chore wheel that's on the kitchen wall.

MJ raises her hand as if she's in class. "Um, can I be removed from the dinner part of the chore wheel? Because I literally only know how to make bacon, eggs, and toast."

"I knew it!" Rose crows triumphantly, whacking the Doctor on the arm. "I bloody told you! Her favorite meal my arse."

"No one taught you how to cook growing up?" Jack asks, more curious than judgemental.

"My mom taught me how to make bacon, eggs, and toast," MJ says sheepishly. Fiddling with her Snoopy watch, she adds, "And then, you know, I was homeless for about five years so I didn't do much cooking, and then uh, when I was living with my dad, other people always did the cooking so...yeah. I just never really learned."

Rose gapes at her. "What do you mean you were homeless for five years? You never told us that!"

"Well, I don't really like talking about it," MJ says. "It wasn't like, awful or whatever, but it wasn't exactly fun, either. We had to steal and dumpster dive to survive." She smiles crookedly. "Actually, dumpster diving was kind of fun. Grocery stores throw out so much perfectly good food for bullshit reasons, it's insane. The best was when we went through the dumpsters of like, the bougie grocery stores like fucking ALDI and Whole Foods and whatever. You could find all sorts of treasures."

"Wait, wait," Jack says. "What do you mean they throw out perfectly good food?"

"In the United States, people waste an estimated ninety-two billion pounds of food annually," MJ says. "38% of all food goes unsold or uneaten."

Rose looks stunned. "But...why?"

"Um, I'm not 100% on the numbers but some of it is people and businesses throwing out food that's approaching or a few days past the sell-by or expiration date," MJ says. "But almost no sell-by and expiration dates are actually regulated by law, so they're kind of subjective. Another reason is overstocking, oh, and foods that are perfectly fine but the packaging is damaged. I actually did a research paper about food waste in my junior year and seeing the actual numbers and everything was...incredibly depressing."

"So why not just donate it?" Rose asks. "Or like, give it to the homeless?"

"Because they're assholes," MJ says simply, "and they only care about profits, not people. Luckily, there are food rescue programs and organizations like Feeding America that are doing everything they can to get the food to people who need it."

Jack eyes her suspiciously. "You said 'We had to steal.' Not 'I had to steal,' 'We had to steal.' So you weren't alone then?"

MJ takes a sip of coffee and then she tells them. She tells them about Thalia's mom, about Jason, and how his disappearance was Thalia's final straw. She tells them about her own reasons for running away, how they met Luke, and how they survived. She tells them about meeting Annabeth and later Grover, and how he got them off the streets. She leaves out all the demigod-related details, of course. She says Grover got them into a summer camp-esque housing program that turned out to be partially funded by her 'dad.' In her attempts to keep the divine out of it, MJ makes the whole thing out to be kind of culty. Oh well.

Once she's done with her story, they sit in relative silence for a few minutes while her friends soak it all in. They drink their drinks — tea for Rose and the Doctor, black coffee for Jack, and MJ's coffee, which is more milk and sugar than coffee — and listen to the clock tick away in the kitchen. MJ's gaze flickers between her friends. Who's going to be the first to break?

It's Rose. She just lights up and exclaims, "We should take cooking classes!"

"Ooh, that could be fun," Jack says with his perfectly charming smile. "I only know how to make the basics, but I've always wanted to learn how to be a proper chef."

"I want to learn how to make something fancy," Rose gushes. "Like um, filet mignon or something!"

"I don't know," the Doctor says. His expression is mostly unreadable, but she sees the hesitation in his eyes. "MJ, what d'you think?"

An idea strikes MJ and she sits up pin-straight in her chair as if jolted with electricity. Eyes glittering, she says, "I think that cooking classes are a great idea, Rose, and I can set it all up for us. I just gotta make a call."

She gets to her feet and is on her way out of the kitchen when she remembers. She whirls around, wincing. "Oh, I need to help clean up!"

"Nah, you're good," the Doctor says. "Nothing Rose and I can't handle."

"Okay, cool," MJ says. She hugs Jack from behind and kisses him on the cheek. "Thanks for breakfast, Jack! It was delicious!"

"It was my honor!" Jack calls after her as she runs out of the kitchen and down the hall.

She grabs her phone off her nightstand, plops down in one of the armchairs in her reading nook, and phones a friend. "Hey, I need a favor..."

*

"Are you sure this is the right place?" Rose asks worriedly. The TARDIS doors are wide open, and their destination is just across the street. "It looks really...residential. And, er, rich."

"This is it," MJ assures her.

It's May 10th, 2007. MJ feels a little bad about skipping ahead, but this was the earliest time she could get. Overhead, the California sun bears down on them, making it sweltering even with the occasional breeze that blows through. They're in a richer part of the state that MJ's never been before, one of the few affluent neighborhoods that isn't gated. Despite the heat, MJ and her friends are all in long pants and long-sleeve shirts. It shouldn't be too bad though — they won't be outside for long.

"Come on, we don't want to be late," MJ says. She waits for a red sportscar to zoom past before she crosses the street. She waves her friends across, and then she hurries up the long driveway, turns right onto the flagstone path, and bounds up the steps to ring the doorbell.

The house is perfectly modern, all boxy and sharp, clean lines. The front of the house has like, eight windows. Is that a lot of windows for the front of a house? MJ's no expert, but it feels like a lot. They're pretty big windows too. The curtains are drawn on every single one. On either side of the stone steps is a large planter full of vibrant flowers. The lawn is well-maintained, and the red minivan in the driveway looks incredibly out of place. Under MJ's feet is a welcome mat that looks like a lemon wedge.

It takes maybe twenty seconds for the door to fly open.

Zelda barrels into MJ, nearly knocking her over with the force of her hug. "MJ! You're alive! Your body's not rotting in a serial killer's basement or buried in the woods where no one will ever find you!"

MJ furrows her brow and pulls away. "Was that...was that a legitimate concern you had, or—?"

"Well, when you didn't come home for winter break, there were a lot of theories," Zelda says. "Buffy told us that you were alive and traveling, but she couldn't provide proof and she was like, weirdly dodgy about it, which is so not like her, not when it comes to you, so we were, um, worried, to say the least."

MJ's heart breaks a little. Oh. So she didn't make it home for Christmas. That's...totally not completely devastating. She feels very normal about that. So normal that she wants to break something.

"I texted you guys constantly," MJ says. "I was literally just texting Cilla and Silena like, yesterday."

Zelda shrugs. "Phones can be taken and speech patterns can be mimicked."

"You need to stop watching so much damn Forensic Files," MJ says exasperatedly. "Now can my friends and I please come in so we don't die of heat stroke?"

"Oh, right, yeah!" Zelda stands to the side and gestures grandly. "Come on in!"

MJ, the Doctor, Rose, and Jack practically stampede inside. MJ and the Doctor take their shoes and leave them by the front door. Rose and Jack follow their example. They stand in the entryway, the living room to their right and a set of stairs to their left. In front of them is a hallway that leads deeper into the gorgeously furnished home.

"You must be one of the sisters, then," Rose laughs.

"Guys, this is my sister Zelda," MJ says. "I've mentioned her, right?"

The Doctor nods. "Yeah, you said she's one of your siblings that lives with their mum during the school year."

"That was Pre-Jack," Rose whispers to Jack.

"I thought she said her sister's name was Annabeth," Jack whispers back. "How many does she have?"

Not even MJ knows, Jack. Not even MJ knows.

"Speaking of Mom, she's waiting for us in the kitchen," Zelda says. "We can do introductions then."

She leads them down the hallway and around a corner. Zelda's mom is standing in possibly the most gorgeous kitchen MJ has ever seen (Sage green cabinets! MJ didn't even know you could do that!), wearing a pink apron that says 'Life is what you bake it!' Rose and the Doctor screech to a halt at the sight of her. Jack stops too, just because they do. Rose lets out a strangled noise.

Ms. Deonn runs over, arms open wide. She hugs as forcefully as her daughter. "MJ! It is so good to finally meet you in person!"

"I could say the same thing, Ms. Deonn," MJ says, returning the hug. When she pulls away, she adds, "Thank you so much for agreeing to this."

"Are you kidding?" Ms. Deonn is practically vibrating with excitement. "I love teaching people how to cook! But between the cookbooks and the restaurants and the shows and raising Zelda, I just never have the time anymore."

Rose looks like she might pass out. "You're...You're Cynthia Deonn. Like, the Cynthia Deonn!"

Ms. Deonn smiles, giving MJ a sly look. "Did you not tell your friends I was teaching the class?"

"Surprise!" MJ exclaims, throwing her hands up in the air. "My half-sister Zelda's mom is celebrity chef Cynthia Deonn and she agreed to give us cooking classes! Zee, Ms. Deonn, these are my friends Rose Tyler, Jack Harkness, and the Doctor."

"Oh my god," Rose breathes out. She grins like an idiot. "My mum loves you, she has all of your cookbooks! Oh, she's going to go mental when I tell her I met you." Her smile fades. "She might actually kill me out of envy."

The Doctor shudders. "She'll definitely kill me."

Ms. Deonn waves her hand dismissively. "I'm sure all will be forgiven if you give her a signed copy of my next cookbook."

"Shut up, are you serious?" Rose blurts out. "I mean, uh, sorry, Ms. Deonn. What I meant to say is that I would be very grateful."

"As would I," the Doctor says. "I deserve a better death than getting beaten to death by your mum."

MJ rolls her eyes. "As if I would let her kill either of you."

"I would also defend your lives," Jack chimes in. He tilts his head. "Well, Rose's at least."

"Oi!" the Doctor cries out.

Zelda giggles and brings over a bundle of aprons. "I took it upon myself to get you guys custom aprons. I got your favorite colors from MJ."

Rose gets a pink apron, the Doctor a royal blue apron, Jack an orange apron, and MJ gets a beautiful apron patterned with flowers of all different colors. Their names are written on their aprons in delicate black stitching.

"How'd you know orange was my favorite color?" Jack asks.

"Color of your sheets," MJ says nonchalantly. Zelda raises her eyebrows and MJ rolls her eyes. "Studio apartment."

"Alright," Ms. Deonn says, clapping her hands together. "Get your aprons on, wash your hands, and then we'll start with the basics, okay?"

*

The basics of cooking involve learning about food safety, prep work and mise en place, how to properly hold and wield a chef's knife, and the importance of reading a recipe all the way through beforehand. Unsurprisingly, MJ's the best student, but they all fly through the basics with ease. Then they get knives and learn how to cut different types of vegetables and about different cuts, like julienne, baton, and diced, amongst others. Ms. Deonn explains they'll do ten lessons over two weeks. Each lesson, they'll practice a skill and then make a meal to enforce that skill and hone others.

"If you need more lessons, we'll do more," Ms. Deonn says. "If we get to lesson eight and I think you guys have everything you need to start your culinary journeys, we'll end it there. Sounds good?"

"Yes, chef," they chorus.

While MJ and her friends stand at the island, cutting vegetables on gorgeous wooden cutting boards, Zelda sits at the kitchen table and does her homework. The wall behind her is less of a wall and more of a series of floor-to-ceiling windows that let the natural light in. Through the windows, MJ can see a bit of the picturesque garden where Ms. Deonn grows fresh herbs and veggies and the luxurious swimming pool that Zelda's shown her pictures of before.

As if reading MJ's mind, Jack speaks up, "Your home is beautiful, Chef Deonn."

"Thank you, Mr. Harkness," Ms. Deonn says, beaming.

Jack's smile turns flirtatious. "But it's not nearly as beautiful as the woman living in it."

MJ and the Doctor groan. Zelda looks up from her textbook to glare at Jack. "Dude. That's my mom."

"Can't blame a guy for trying," Jack laughs.

"Yeah, we can, actually," Rose says snidely, but there's hardly any venom behind her words. "Look, we're all doing it right now."

"Wow," Jack says. "You know, you guys blaming a guy for trying is a great look for you all. Seriously, I think you're glowing, Doc."

The Doctor shoots him a look. "Only MJ gets to call me Doc."

Jack pouts. "What? How come?"

"Because I'm better than you in every shape and form," MJ says airily. "Duh." She leans around the Doctor to grin cheekily at Jack. "And I got here first. I have seniority."

With a sly smile, Zelda abandons her studies to take a seat at one of the stools lined up against the island. "So, it's you, then?"

"What's who then?" Rose asks. She frowns deeply. "Who's what then? What's...oh, you know what I mean."

"The Doctor," Zelda says. "You're MJ's mystery man."

The Doctor's knife slips and he slices into his thumb.

"Wash it with soap and water in the sink," Ms. Deonn barks. "Zelda, can you—"

"I got it," MJ says, pulling her first aid kit from her pocket.

She follows the Doctor over to the sink and waits for him to finish washing his hands before taking his injured thumb between her fingers. Luckily, it's a very shallow cut. She applies some Neosporin before wrapping a Hello Kitty-themed bandage around his thumb.

"All better," she declares.

He hesitates and she knows exactly why. If it were just the two of them — or at least just them, Rose, and Jack —he'd ask her to kiss his thumb to make it feel better. But they're in Cynthia Deonn's kitchen and Zelda is watching them like a hawk, so he doesn't. Maybe later.

"Zelda Naomi Deonn, you apologize right this instant," Ms. Deonn snaps.

"It's fine," the Doctor says hastily. He smiles awkwardly. "It's not her fault I'm clumsy."

Ms. Deonn shakes her head. "Zelda knows damn well she shouldn't be nosy. Did I raise you to be nosy?"

Zelda hesitates. "You didn't...not raise me to be nosy." Her mom gasps in outrage and Zelda shrugs. "Well, what do you want me to say? You hate it when I lie to you!"

"And it doesn't count as nosy if it falls under little sister pestering," MJ chimes in, getting back to dicing. Narrowing her eyes at Zelda, she adds, "Doesn't mean it's not annoying as fuck, though."

"Mom, she said a bad word!" Zelda sing-songs.

Ms. Deonn just rolls her eyes and chooses not to dignify that with a proper response.

Zelda leans over the island. "But I was right, right? You're the guy she's dating."

"I'm not dating anyone," MJ tells her. "Who told you I was dating someone?"

"Well, Priscilla said—"

"That fucking snitch," MJ hisses under her breath. "What did she say? I want a word-for-word quote."

Zelda shrinks back. "Um, well, she said that you were texting her and Silena for advice, and she says that she told you to set his car on fire and to burn him at the stake, but apparently those weren't productive additions to the conversation. And then she asked me the best way to get out of dueling Annabeth, which...do you know what that's about?"

MJ can't help but snicker. "She and Annabeth agreed that whenever I get married — which won't be any time soon, mind you — they'll duel over who gets to be my maid of honor."

"Oh gods, does Priscilla not love herself?" Zelda asks, wincing. "Does she not enjoy being abled body? Why would she agree to that?"

"Apparently, they made the deal when Annabeth was shorter," MJ giggles. "Still stupid, but well, it's Cilla. Good decision-making isn't exactly one of her strong suits."

Rose snorts. "I'd say. I've only met Annabeth the one time and even I know challenging her to a fight is a death wish." Rose blushes, wrinkling her nose. "But um, when you do get married someday, can I—?"

"You can be a bridesmaid," MJ says. "It'll be you, Silena, Cilla if she survives her duel with Annabeth, Intan, and Zee."

Zelda jumps up and down, clapping excitedly. "I get to be a bridesmaid?"

"At my fictional wedding? Yes," MJ tells her.

"Would you make your own wedding dress?" Rose asks, eyes glittering with excitement.

Hyperaware of the Doctor watching her with that stupidly soft expression, MJ grins and ducks her head. "Well, actually, there's this dress Silena's been working on. It's silver and shimmery and it's got this gorgeous tulle skirt..." She sighs dreamily, then wrinkles her nose. "Well, will have a gorgeous tulle skirt. I don't think Silena's actually started making it yet. She's stuck in the sketch phase, I fear."

"Veil or no veil?" Ms. Deonn asks next.

"Short veil, probably the same tulle as the dress," MJ says. "Or maybe just like a hairpiece or something."

Zelda gasps. "A tiara! You should totally wear a tiara!"

She laughs. "Cute, but I'm not a princess."

"This is your fictional wedding we're talking about here," Jack says. "You can be a princess if you want to be a princess. Besides, I mean, your posture and mannerisms? If she walks like a princess and talks like a princess—"

"And looks like a princess," Rose chimes in.

"She's a princess," Jack finishes.

"I do not talk like a princess," MJ says. "And thank you for noticing my excellent posture."

"Yes, you do!" Rose insists. "You say things like 'shall' and 'divisive' and 'squander.'"

The Doctor throws his two cents in. "And you can be very poetic. You're very quotable."

"Eloquence is not exclusive to princesses, you know," MJ says.

"Princess Matilda," the Doctor says decisively. "That's you. Princess Matilda Josette Winslow."

Zelda's jaw drops. "You...you know her full name? Only siblings have full name privileges! And Cilla. And Silena. Oh, and Grover, I think. And..." She trails off, twisting her lips. "Okay, the more I think about it, the less impressive of an accomplishment it is."

MJ's face burns. "If any of you start calling me princess, I will stab you. I'm sure you're all aware of this by now, but I'm armed at all times." The Doctor opens his mouth and she points her chef's knife at him. "And yes, that includes calling me princess in other languages."

The Doctor's shoulders slump. "You're no fun."

"I'm a blast," MJ says airily, sticking her nose in the air.

Once they have their vegetable cuts down, they talk about seasoning, make a dipping sauce for their veggies, and then finish off their first lesson by snacking.

"So, what are we going to do for dinner?" Jack asks conversationally, dipping a carrot baton in the zesty sauce. It's 4:37 pm. Orange sunlight spills into the room through the windows.

"Diced zucchini," Rose suggests. "With bacon and eggs."

MJ grimaces. "Or we could order a pizza."

"Pizza works for me," the Doctor says. Rose and Jack echo the sentiment.

Ms. Deonn leans back against the counter, resting her elbows on the countertop. "Well, Zee and I were going to order pizza. Why don't you guys just stay for dinner?"

"Celebrity chefs get takeout?" Rose asks dubiously, eyebrows raised.

"Even celebrity chefs need a break from cooking," Ms. Deonn says.

She readjusts the headband keeping her locs out of her face and opens a drawer by the fridge. Inside is a mess of takeout menus. She pulls out one from the top and holds it up to show it to them.

With the same mischievous smile Zelda gets when she asks someone new if they want to play a game of chess, Ms. Deonn says, "I hope y'all like bougie California pizza."

*

"I can't believe how good this is," Rose says with wide, awe-filled eyes. "I'm going to have dreams about this pizza."

"Me too," Jack says, "but I'm wagering my dreams are going to be a lot different than yours."

They're sitting around the kitchen table. Four pizza boxes sit open on the island. The Deonns had done the ordering, and they'd gone for only fancy pies — thin-crust pizza with California cuisine-style toppings. Rose's clear favorite is the white pie with arugula, prosciutto, and fig jam. She's already eaten three slices and is reaching for a fourth. Jack's eaten half of the grilled chicken, spinach, sun-dried tomatoes, and mozzarella pizza. To Rose, Jack, and Zelda's amusement, MJ and the Doctor both like the white pie with mushrooms, caramelized onions, and truffle oil best, and are effectively sharing it just the two of them.

"You guys are adorable," Zelda teases. She looks at Rose. "Do they always share food like this?"

"No, this is new," Rose says. "Honestly, they're a bit sickening after a while. There's only so much flirting you can listen to before you want to hurl."

"Oi!" the Doctor cries out.

MJ's not sure what possesses her, but she sneers, "Oh, yeah, and listening to you two flirt is so pleasant."

Jack frowns. "What's wrong with me flirting with Rose?"

Heat floods MJ's cheeks. Suddenly, she doesn't have much of an appetite anymore. She gets up and busies herself washing her hands. Unfortunately, Jack follows her over to the sink.

"No avoiding the question, MJ," Jack teases. "C'mon, what's the problem? Jealous I don't flirt with you?"

He waggles his eyebrows enticingly. Rose snorts.

"I didn't mean you two," MJ says very quietly.

She'd forgotten to be angry until just now. She'd been so preoccupied with dying and then coming back that all of her irritation sort of fell to the wayside. But she is angry. She's furious, actually, that the Doctor and Rose had the audacity to flirt and dance in front of her, and then just try to act like they didn't do anything wrong or hurtful. Like, who does that?

Jack, ever tactful, asks really loudly, "If you didn't mean us, then who—?"

"I'm going to get some fresh air," MJ cuts in with an obviously fake smile.

She slips outside through the glass double doors, walks down the flagstone path, and hurries around the corner where she can't be seen. MJ finds refuge in a corner of the backyard with a stone bench under a towering oak tree and a small bubbling fountain. Surrounded by vibrant flowers and lush hedges, it's so perfectly serene that the tension drains from her shoulders before she even sits down.

Maybe she's being overdramatic, or it's her pride kicking in. Maybe she's blowing this entire thing out of proportion. Rose and the Doctor are friends. Friends dance. Friends stand close to each other and talk lowly. Friends ignore the only other person in the room, who is also a friend, to do these things...right? MJ lets out a groan and buries her face in her hands. Sometimes, she really wishes she could turn her brain off. Or her feelings. Or both.

"Mind if I join you?"

Zelda stands a few feet away, hands clasped behind her back. She rocks back and forth on her heels with an awkward smile.

MJ pats the empty spot next to her on the bench. "All yours."

Zelda plops down next to MJ and the sisters settle into a familiar position — Zelda with her arms around MJ's torso, curled up into her side and tucked under her arm, and MJ leaning her head on Zelda's. For at least a couple of minutes, they sit in silence, just enjoying each other's company. There's a unique peace that comes with being with someone you love body and soul, and who loves you just the same. It's the kind of peace some people search their whole lives for.

MJ's so lucky that she can find it time and time again with so many people. Sometimes, she swears she has the biggest family on Earth. Maybe even in the whole universe.

"They don't know why you're upset," Zelda says at last. "Well, I think Jack might know, but he's at least pretending he doesn't."

"Am I being overdramatic?" MJ asks. "Am I reading too much into things? Do I have a right to feel hurt?"

Zelda pulls away just enough that she can look MJ in the eyes, and she raises her eyebrows. "Since when does the great MJ Winslow doubt herself so much?"

"Since Luke," MJ admits. "I don't...I can't trust myself as much as I used to. I never even suspected he was the lightning thief, Zee. The thought literally never crossed my mind and it should've. I should've figured it out the second we learned the master bolt was stolen."

"Because you never thought Luke was capable of trying to start World War III," Zelda says simply. "That's why the thought never crossed your mind or any of our minds. We all knew to some extent that he was angry at the gods, but at the same time, he was...he was—"

"Luke," MJ cuts in. "At the same time, he was Luke. He's charming and slick, and he knows just what to do or say to manipulate someone. And I used to admire him for it. I used to admire him for his ability to read people and deduce exactly what they need to hear or see in order for them to do what he wants them to do. It never even occurred to me that he was doing it to me too."

Zelda scoffs. "Well, why would it? He was supposed to be your best friend. Best friends don't do that to each other."

Bile rises in MJ's throat. "He had me wrapped around his finger."

"He had us all wrapped around his finger," Zelda says. "Even Chiron. Luke's a master manipulator. You can't fault yourself for not being able to see that."

"I can and I will," MJ says. "I'm supposed to be a genius. I'm supposed to be the cleverest person in the room. I'm supposed to be the girl who figures things out before anyone else, who can put the pieces together before others even realize there's a puzzle to be solved, and everything with Luke shouldn't have been any different. I'm so sick of dwelling on what could've or should've been, but I can't stop thinking about it. I can't stop seeing myself as a failure."

Zelda rolls her eyes. "Okay, now you're being overdramatic." Face softening, she adds, "You're not a failure, Mattie. Not even close."

MJ's eyes fill with tears. "I dropped out of college."

"I know. Annabeth told us."

"I worked so hard to get in and I just fucked it all up. How does that not make me a failure?"

"You're not even nineteen yet," Zelda reminds her. "You have your whole life ahead of you."

MJ lets out a sob at that because gods, she really does have her whole life ahead of her. She'd spent so many years just trying to make it to eighteen, trying to hit that milestone that far too many demigods fall short of, and she did it! Next was supposed to be college. That was her entire life plan: turn eighteen, go to a good school, and get a degree. She'd never envisioned a life past college. How could she, when it was so unlikely she'd even make it past high school?

But now her nineteenth birthday is fast approaching and she's a college dropout, and she doesn't know where to go from here. She'll keep traveling with the Doctor for as long as he lets her, but what then? What comes after traveling through time and space? What adventures are left after exploring new planets and bygone eras and years that haven't happened yet?

MJ has her whole life ahead of her and it's fucking terrifying.

"I love you so much, Mattie," Zelda says softly. "You know that, right?"

"I know, Zee," MJ says. "I love you too. More than words could ever describe."

Zelda holds MJ a little tighter. "I'm here for you whenever you need me. We all are. There's nothing you have to go through alone."

Rose's voice echoes in MJ's ears. There's some healing you've got to do all on your own, and it's fucking brutal.

What if MJ can't do it? What if she's not as tough or resilient as everyone thinks she is? What if she's doomed to spend the rest of her life, however long it may be, broken and bruised? What if she can never truly be free of Luke, no matter how hard she tries?

"I fucked it all up," she says.

Zelda shrugs. "So? Just do better next time."

MJ's shoulders sag under an invisible weight. "Yeah. Yeah, I'll just do better next time."

*

They don't talk about it.

When MJ and Zelda come back inside, Jack suggests heading home. They say their goodbyes and then MJ, Jack, Rose, and the Doctor retire across the street to the TARDIS. The Doctor parks them in space, MJ mumbles something about being tired, and then she spends the rest of the night hiding in her room. And everyone lets her.

They don't talk about it at breakfast the next day, or lunch, either. After lunch, they go to their next cooking lesson, and that becomes their routine. Breakfast, free time, lunch, cooking lesson, dinner with the Deonns, then home and to bed. Ms. Deonn is an amazing teacher, molding them into chefs with the ease of a potter with a wet lump of clay. They laugh, they learn, and they return to the TARDIS after each lesson with smiles on their faces.

And they never talk about it.

As far as MJ knows, Rose and the Doctor still have no clue what there is to talk about. Their dance and flirty banter must've meant absolutely nothing to them for them to have forgotten it so easily, and maybe that's a sign that MJ should just forget it too. But she can't and she won't, so she spends more and more of their time on the TARDIS alone. It's getting to a point where she really only sees Rose and the Doctor at meals and for cooking lessons. Besides that, the only times she isn't alone are when she trains with Jack.

It's been nice to have someone to spar with again. Jack knows some 51st-century combat techniques that he's more than happy to teach her, and MJ teaches him how to fight with weapons other than his blaster. They mostly do hand-to-hand combat, but every now and then, they unload clips side-by-side at the shooting range MJ's 100% the Doctor doesn't know exists, or they sword-fight with wooden blades. Training makes MJ feel like herself again and it's an excellent way to deal with her frustration. The cherry on top? It really pisses the Doctor off that she's spending more time with Jack than him.

One day, Jack walks her back to her room after another successful and very sweaty training session. They're bantering over MJ kicking his ass sword-fighting again, laughing and smiling, and then MJ spots the Doctor waiting for her by her door and her face falls.

"Something I can help you with, Doc?" she asks, her eyebrows raised and her eyes narrowed.

The Doctor glances between her and Jack, noting the lack of space between them with a wrinkle of his nose. "Er, can we talk?"

MJ looks to Jack for help and what does he do? He stabs her in the back.

"I'll leave you guys to it," Jack says cheerily. He leaves them, but not before squeezing MJ's shoulder and whispering in her ear, "You'll be fine."

Once Jack is gone, MJ opens the door to her room, walks inside, and kicks off her sneakers. The Doctor follows her in and she shoots him an icy look. "Did I say you could come in?"

The Doctor freezes mid-taking off his boots. "No?"

"Then what makes you think you can just come into my room?" MJ demands, folding her arms over her chest.

"You always let me in," he says with a shrug. "Look, you're obviously upset with me and Rose, but we don't know why so could you just tell us? Please? Because I don't know how we're supposed to make things right if we don't know what we did wrong."

"The fact that you don't know is part of the problem," she tells him. "It's the same thing I've been upset about since the Blitz."

He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. "Could I maybe get a hint?"

"No," she says plainly. "You're a genius, right? So you figure it out. And while you do that, get the fuck out of my room!"

She storms into her bathroom and slams the door shut behind her. Gods, how can he be so clueless? And why can't she just be the bigger person and let it go?

You mean like you did with Luke? she asks herself. Because that's what she did with Luke. She let it go every single time they had a fight, and look where that got her. She won't make the same mistake again. She won't give in so easily. MJ Winslow is no one's doormat.

MJ showers, glowering at nothing in particular the whole time, and then gets dressed for another lesson at the Deonns' house. Usually, she joins everyone for lunch beforehand but today she doesn't seem to have much of an appetite, so she works on finishing the blanket she's making for Chiron instead. Once it's done, she folds it up and lays it inside a shimmery golden gift box that she'd found in a storage closet.

There's a knock at her door and Jack calls out, "MJ, it's cooking time!"

She smiles despite her lingering anger and resentment. Cooking lessons were really such a great idea on Rose's part. They're so much fun and so informative, and they just have a way of smoothing all of MJ's jagged edges. When MJ and her buddies are at the Deonns, they're the best of friends and she can set her hurt aside for a little while. Maybe it's more the Deonns' company than the lessons themselves, but when they're there, it's the greatest balm. At the Deonns', everything is great and there's nothing to worry about.

*

Something is wrong and MJ's on the brink of a panic attack.

Lesson #11 started out like all the others — they put their aprons on and gathered at the kitchen island. Today's lesson is about making fresh pasta, so it's been a lot of flour and oil. At first, it's all good and MJ's perfectly relaxed. Then Zelda comes back downstairs after taking a call (aka answering an Iris Message) and the atmosphere shifts so slightly that it takes MJ a few minutes to notice it.

"Now we have to let the dough rest so the flour can fully absorb the eggs," Ms. Deonn says, dropping her perfectly kneaded dough into a glass bowl. She covers the bowl with plastic wrap. "I prefer to let my dough rest for an hour — you don't have to wait that long, but it needs at least thirty minutes."

"Yes, chef," they all say cheerily, though MJ's a beat behind. She's slightly distracted, and it's entirely Zelda's fault.

While MJ and her friends stand at the island, diligently following Ms. Deonn's lesson, Zelda sits at the kitchen table and studies for her finals. Nothing about that would be distracting if it weren't for the fact that Zelda keeps glancing nervously at MJ as if she has bad news to deliver. Now, MJ has a thirty-minute break, which means there's nothing keeping her from completely spiraling.

Eventually, it gets too much. MJ stomps over to Zelda, eyes narrowed. "Are you going to tell me what's wrong or are you just going to keep looking at me like you have to tell me that something's wrong?"

"I don't want to tell you," Zelda whines. "You seem so happy."

"Scale from one to ten, how bad?" MJ asks.

Zelda doesn't even hesitate. "Nine. And three quarters."

MJ sheds her black food-safe gloves and throws them on the glass table. "Sister meeting, now."

"Okay, but we should probably go to the throwing things room," Zelda says.

Rose blinks. "You have a throwing things room?"

"Better to take your anger out on inanimate objects than people," Ms. Deonn says, still smiling like everything is right in the world.

MJ abandons her apron on the back of one of the chairs. "Lead the way."

Zelda guides her back to the entryway and, after they both put some shoes on, into the garage. Sorry, the garage-turned-throwing things room. The floor is covered with tarps as if the room is being painted, and there are shelves and shelves full of vases and trinkets made from glass or porcelain. Against one wall is a series of pedestals, each topped with a different ceramic or stone bust. A baseball bat, a sledgehammer, and a hatchet hang on the wall like tools. Zelda opens one of the lockers right next to the door and pulls out a pair of goggles that she hands to MJ. MJ doesn't put them on.

"Just tell me what's wrong," MJ says. "Someone's dead, right?"

"Not dead, exactly," Zelda says, shifting her weight from foot to foot. "Dying. Put the goggles on."

"Is it one of our siblings?" MJ presses as she puts the goggles on. Zelda hands her a pair of gardening gloves and MJ puts those on too. "Chiron? Percy?"

"Mattie..." Zelda's eyes well with tears. "Someone poisoned Thalia's tree."

MJ's heart drops to her feet.

"It only happened yesterday," Zelda explains. "According to Intan, Chiron said...he said that the poison's from the pits of Tartarus. Something not even he's seen before. They have no idea how to cure it. The magical border's getting weaker, so they had to set up a border patrol. They don't know who did it, but—"

"We know who did it," MJ cuts in icily. "Luke did it. Or a proxy of Luke. That motherfucker!"

She stomps over to the shelves, grabs a random vase, and hurls it at the wall. The rainfall of broken pieces gives her a sick sense of satisfaction.

"Hurting me wasn't enough?" Another vase shatters. "Betraying everyone wasn't enough?" A ceramic cow dies for the cause. "Is there anyone he won't fuck over in his stupid fucking quest to burn down the world to punish his deadbeat dad?"

She swipes an entire row of trinkets off the shelves.

"Be careful," Zelda warns.

MJ's too angry to listen. She grabs the sledgehammer and stomps over to a marble pedestal that stands in the center of the room. It's topped with a bust that sort of resembles Abraham Lincoln. She swings and knocks the head clean off.

"Oh, damn," Zelda hisses.

"I hate him!" MJ screams, swinging again. She knocks the bust off the pedestal. No matter. She raises her sledgehammer and brings it down over and over again, reducing the bust to dust. "I hate him, I hate him, I hate him! I'm gonna fucking rip his guts out and feed them to him!"

Zelda puts a new bust on the pedestal, careful to avoid any detritus, and quickly steps back. The new bust hits the floor on the first swing.

"He was my best friend!" MJ yells. She slams the sledgehead down on the face. "I trusted him with my life!" Another hit to the face. "I trusted him with my siblings' lives!" There's not much left of the face, so she goes for the torso. "I trusted him with my heart and my body and he fucking spit in my face!"

Zelda puts up a new bust and MJ brings it down. "I loved him!" The head splits into a dozen pieces. "I still love him!" The nose is crushed to nothing. "I love him and I fucking hate myself for it!" There goes the forehead. "I hate myself for trusting him! I hate myself for letting him hurt me!" The torso cracks under the might of her fury.

"I let him hurt me!" MJ swings at the marble pedestal and it splinters. "I just laid there and I let him hurt me! I am a fucking fraud! I'm a failure! I can never see my mom again!"

The marble pedestal is nothing more than a stub now. She falls to her knees amongst the destruction, the sledgehammer slipping from her grip. "I can never see my mom again. I'd just disappoint her. I disappoint everyone. I can't protect my siblings and I can't protect my friends and I can't protect myself." MJ curls in on herself, sobbing. "Luke is gonna destroy the world and it's all my fault."

*

The next thing MJ knows, she's waking up in her bed. And she's not alone.

Rose and Jack are cuddled up with her on the bed, Rose in the middle. Jack has his arm draped across Rose's torso, his fingers brushing MJ's. MJ glances down at the floor to see the Doctor. He's sprawled out atop a makeshift mattress of blankets, and he's holding her hand, even in his sleep. They're all in their pajamas, and they're all snoozing peacefully.

MJ slips out from under the covers, crawls down the bed, and clambers over the bench at the foot of the bed so as to not disturb the others. Rose must've dressed her because she's wearing all-pink. Footsteps almost silent, MJ goes into her bathroom. The TARDIS turns the light on for her and MJ frowns at herself in the mirror.

Why doesn't she remember what happened after she broke down crying? Why are the Doctor, Rose, and Jack all sleeping in her room? She rubs her face tiredly. Maybe she slipped into a fugue state. Jack or the Doctor probably carried her back to the TARDIS, Rose got her changed, and then they all stayed with her out of concern. She wonders if Zelda gave them any sort of explanation for MJ's latest freakout. Or maybe they just knew. Maybe Rose and the Doctor know her well enough by now to know only Luke can affect her so.

MJ sighs and runs a hot bath. She strips, throws her pajamas into the hamper, and steps carefully into the tub. She sinks down into the water — the temperature is just short of scalding. It feels amazing. She wets her washcloth and squeezes some jasmine-scented body wash onto the cloth. MJ scrubs her skin vigorously, trying once again to rid herself of the filth that's lived under her skin ever since That Night. But it's no use.

Luke Castellan is entangled in her DNA. She will never be free of him or the anguish he's caused her. The anguish she let that motherfucker cause her. Anger flares in her chest, searing her lungs. She should've done something about Luke the second she noticed the changes in his behavior. She should've shut this shit down years ago. But she didn't and now everything Luke does, everyone he hurts, the blame is on her too.

Every drop of blood he spills is on her hands.

*

They celebrate their last cooking lesson by putting together a feast.

Together, MJ, Rose, the Doctor, and Jack make herb-crusted lamb chops, garlic mashed potatoes, roasted broccoli, and glazed carrots. Everything tastes amazing, and thanks to Ms. Deonn's lessons in organization and time management, there's hardly any mess to clean up afterward. They make small talk until someone (Zelda) gets brave enough to bring up dessert. Dessert is a pina colada-flavored cake that Ms. Deonn special-ordered from one of her favorite local bakeries. While MJ cuts the cake into even slices, Zelda makes tea and decaf coffee.

"So," Zelda says as she sets down an array of cutesy mugs, "I think we need to talk about the elephant in the room."

MJ freezes. They haven't talked about Luke poisoning Thalia's tree or MJ's ensuing mental breakdown, avoiding the topics like one would avoid an infectious disease. Is Zelda really going to bring it up now when they're all having a good time? Or is she going to call MJ out on not telling Rose, Jack, and the Doctor the truth about their shared parent?

"Though it would be more accurate to say the police box on the sidewalk," Zelda adds with a cheeky grin.

MJ's shoulders sag with relief. Oh, thank the gods. This conversation she can handle.

"Zee and I have been debating about this for weeks," Ms. Deonn chimes in. "I think the box is a time machine. She thinks it's a spaceship. So which is it?"

"Actually, you're both right," MJ says. "It's a spaceship that also travels through time. The Doctor's spaceship, more specifically."

Zelda lights up. "Does that mean you're an alien? Or are you just from a distant future?"

For someone who claims he doesn't do domestics, the Doctor seems perfectly at ease and somewhat eager to tell the Deonns the truth. "I'm an alien called a Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey."

Ms. Deonn nods as if this is a perfectly normal thing to learn about someone. "So, do you look human, or do humans look like Time Lords?"

"We look like Time Lords," Rose says. "They came first. Or so he says."

"How biologically similar are Time Lords and humans?" Zelda asks.

"Fairly similar," the Doctor says. "We got all the same bones and organs. Mine are just superior to yours. And I got two hearts."

Zelda takes a sip of her tea, hums happily, and looks at Rose. "But you and Jack are humans, right?"

"Rose is 100% normal human," Jack confirms, "but I'm an augmented human from the 51st century. Basically, I've gotten some upgrades."

Zelda tilts her head thoughtfully. "Like when you buy traits from the reward store in the Sims?"

"Yep!" MJ answers for a visibly befuddled Jack.

Over hot beverages and delicious cake, MJ, the Doctor, Rose, and Jack tell the Deonns about their past adventures. If they 'accidentally' leave out the two times MJ's died, well, who can really blame them? Zelda and Ms. Deonn have lots of excellent questions. By the time they run out of things to talk about, it's nearly midnight. Rose yawns and the Doctor says they should probably get going.

"MJ, can I talk to you outside real quick?" Zelda asks with her 'What I have to say is really important' look.

The sisters step out into the backyard. Without even having to discuss it, they both head for the pool. They take their socks off, sit on the ledge, and dip their feet into the cool water. In the distance, crickets chirp. Fireflies flicker in and out of sight overhead. The night air is deliciously refreshing against MJ's skin, still heated from all that cooking. She closes her eyes and tilts her head back to bask in the moment.

"Are you planning on coming to camp this summer?" Zelda asks, shattering the comfortable silence they'd fallen into with well-practiced ease.

"Of course," MJ says. She opens her eyes and looks at her sister. "Especially with Thalia's tree being poisoned, I...I need to be there. I need to know I'm helping in any way I can."

Zelda grimaces. "Okay, well, I was talking to Intan today — you know, checking in, seeing how things are going, and um...well, we agreed it might be better for you not to come to camp this summer."

MJ reels back as if slapped. "What? How could you say that?"

"It's not that we don't want you there," Zelda says hastily, eyes wide with panic. "Of course, we want you there! You're our big sister and we love you so much, but well, we were talking and the others joined in and we all just sort of agreed that camp might not be the best place for you right now."

"Camp Half-Blood is my home," MJ snaps. She blinks back white-hot tears. "There's no better place for me."

"Usually, yeah," Zelda says. "But between everything with Luke and then college and now with Thalia's tree being poisoned...we're just worried that camp would be really triggering for you, or that you'd run yourself ragged taking on border patrol because you're you and you always want to protect everyone, no matter the personal cost. We don't want to see you tear yourself apart, Mattie. We want you to be happy."

MJ lets that wash over her, kicking her feet absentmindedly. Her siblings aren't exactly wrong. She'd already been planning on signing up for as much border patrol as possible — debating with herself the best way to defend camp all while ignoring the pit in her stomach at being at camp post-Luke's betrayal. She won't let him ruin Camp Half-Blood for her. She can't let him take her home from her too. But she'll never be able to work through whatever complicated feelings may arise if she dedicates all her time to keeping camp safe.

"Maybe you could come later in the summer once we heal Thalia's tree," Zelda suggests. "Because we are going to heal her tree, Mattie. I swear to you, we're not going to stop until we find a way to save her tree and the border. We won't let Luke win."

She doesn't swear on the River Styx because she doesn't have to. In Cabin 6, a swear to each other holds far more weight and meaning than swearing on a river of lost memories and broken dreams. It comes with far more dire consequences too — dying is one thing. Breaking your sibling's heart is another.

MJ runs her tongue over her teeth and nods. "Yeah, I think that's a good idea. It'll give me more time to pick up some souvenirs for you guys from across time and space, and finish up some of my projects."

"If you're taking requests, I'd love an alien chessboard," Zelda says, grinning.

"Duly noted," MJ says. She sighs and leans against Zelda. "Try not to have too much fun without me, okay?"

Zelda scoffs. "Please. Like we could ever fully enjoy ourselves without our favorite big sister around."

MJ lets out a sharp bark of laughter. "Damn straight!" She presses a kiss to Zelda's temple. "And you know if you need me, all you have to do is call, okay? Or text. IM's probably out of the question since you have no way of knowing where I am at any given point in time."

"Must be nice to not have to worry about monsters coming after you when you use technology because you're in space," Zelda grumbles. Expression softening, she tilts her head. "Do you want me...I mean, I'm assuming Annabeth knows since she covered for you during winter break so do you want us to tell everyone what you've been up to, or do you want to tell them yourself?"

MJ fidgets with her Snoopy bracelet, scrunching up her nose. "Um, uh...no, it's okay. I'll tell them myself."

Zelda's eyes narrow. "You are going to tell everyone, right?"

"Yeah, of course," MJ says quickly. Too quickly. She gets to her feet, grabbing her socks. "C'mon. It's late and you have a chess tournament tomorrow."

"Please," Zelda says with an overdramatic roll of her eyes. "The closest I'll have to real competition is Natalie Olivar, and I could beat her with my eyes closed." She stands, sighing. "But I suppose you're right. It'd be really embarrassing for everyone if I beat them while half-asleep and, well, I'm not one for needless public humiliation."

The sisters head back inside, leaving wet footprints on the stone path.

*

After some long, heartfelt goodbyes and promises to see each other again soon, MJ and her friends return to the TARDIS — the Doctor, Rose, and Jack on foot, and MJ on Jack's back because her feet are too wet to put her socks and shoes back on. They part ways for the night. MJ goes to her room, but not to bed. Her mind is whirring. She plops down in her window seat with the mysterious celestial bronze cube she'd pilfered all those weeks ago.

MJ flips the cube around as she has a thousand times before, trying to spot something, anything to tell her what it is. Her fingers slide across the perfectly smooth metal. Perfectly smooth — save for an indentation she's somehow never noticed before. She holds the cube up to the light, squinting to see the small symbol. When she realizes what it is, she gasps and, in her shock, the cube slips from her fingers to the floor.

The symbol on the mystery cube is a Delta. The symbol of her half-brother, Daedalus.

MJ scrambles to pick the cube back up. Upon closer inspection, it seems the symbol is more than just a symbol — it's a button. She nearly presses it, then stops herself. She still doesn't know for sure that it isn't dangerous. And even if it isn't, especially if it isn't, pressing the button is a moment she should share with the rest of Cabin 6.

She returns the cube to where she's been hiding it — wrapped up in one of her camp shirts and tucked into the very back of her sleep shirt drawer. Gods, this summer can't come soon enough. She'll get to see her siblings, her closest friends, and Chiron, and she'll get to solve the mystery of the celestial bronze cube. And it'll be good for her to get out of the TARDIS for a while. Give her the chance to get some perspective and decide how she feels about the Doctor when she isn't spending every day with him.

That night, MJ dreams of New York City on fire — and the Doctor putting it out with a giant hose.

*

heyyyy lol

soooo first things first: the food waste statistics are from 2023 if i remember correctly bc i couldn't find any from 2006 or 2007 :/

sorry if this little mini-arc is annoying to y'all. i promise, there's a purpose to it besides just angst. you have to remember that mj's been through an extremely traumatizing experience and she still has a lot of healing left to do. and as per doctor who tradition (and true to life itself), there will good times in between the bad times