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TIME WON'T
FIX THIS
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Three months in Kingsbury passed with agonising slowness. Each day blurred into the next, and there was still no sign of the Doctor. Hollie wasn't sure if his absence was a blessing or a curse. Her once-thrilling life of adventure had transformed into something much harder to face—endless, monotonous waiting.

Edith had let Hollie stay for a week beyond that first, chaotic night. It felt like the universe had granted her a rare mercy, a small reprieve from the mess her life had become. Edith asked no questions, offered shelter freely, and expected nothing in return.

But when the week ended, Hollie was hit by a harsh reality: the Doctor was still gone, she had no money, and no real plan for what to do next. She thought about calling Mels more than once, but the idea left her uneasy. Mels would question her, no doubt scold her for running off with the "man in the blue box," and Hollie wasn't ready to relive that decision—not yet.

In the end, there was only one choice. She stayed in Kingsbury.

Edith's generosity extended further than Hollie could have hoped. The woman reassured her she was welcome until she got back on her feet, no strings attached. Grateful and feeling an unspoken duty to repay her kindness, Hollie began working at the pub, doing whatever needed doing. It was a small effort to balance the scales, even as she grappled with the emptiness the Doctor's absence left behind.

For the first three months, Hollie didn't touch any form of art. She had no supplies, no money to buy them, and little energy to create. It wasn't until one quiet evening that Edith placed a cheque in her hands, interrupting Hollie's cleaning.

"What's this?" Hollie asked, staring at the slip of paper.

"Your wages," Edith replied simply.

"Wages?" Hollie frowned, her brow furrowing in confusion.

The older woman nodded. "I've already deducted the cost of your room. The rest is yours."

"But why?" Hollie asked, her voice cracking slightly.

Edith's expression softened. "Because this isn't living, Hollie. You say you're waiting, but you can't wait forever. And, frankly, I'm curious to see how good of an artist you really are."

A small smile tugged at Hollie's lips, a flicker of warmth breaking through the fog. "Thank you, Edith."

"You're welcome, my dear."

With the money she earned, Hollie bought art supplies and began sketching again. Her work became a quiet comfort, a tether to herself in the absence of adventure. She started selling her pieces at the pub—beautiful landscapes of faraway worlds she once visited, imagined with vivid colours and intricate detail. The locals grew to love her art, crowding around her as she worked and marvelling at the strange but breathtaking places she brought to life.

Occasionally, someone caught her sketching a blue police box. It was rare, but those who did never questioned it—they just nodded, sensing that it meant something more.

Months blurred together, and Hollie lost count of how long she had been staying with Edith. It wasn't until Edith gently knocked on her door one evening, seven and a half months in, that Hollie's quiet routine was interrupted.

"You've got a visitor," Edith said, her tone light but curious.

Hollie frowned, lowering her sketchbook. "A visitor? For me?"

Before she could ask anything more, Cassiopeia stepped into the room, her blonde hair catching the soft afternoon light. She stood there with her usual self-assured posture, her lips curving into a small, knowing smile.

Hollie froze, her heart thudding in her chest. "Cassiopeia?"

"Hey," Cassiopeia said softly, stepping forward and wrapping her arms around Hollie in a firm but gentle hug. Hollie exhaled shakily, the familiar presence oddly grounding.

"How..." Hollie's voice cracked slightly as she pulled back, her eyes narrowing. "How the hell did you find me?"

Cassiopeia smirked, a hint of mischief in her eyes. "Future you. She's very specific when she wants me to do something, by the way."

Hollie blinked, taking a moment to process the answer. Finally, she let out a faint laugh, shaking her head. "Of course she is. Figures." Her gaze softened slightly. "Why are you here?"

Cassiopeia reached into her jacket, pulling out a small blue envelope. She extended it, her expression turning more serious. "Present for you."

Hollie hesitated before taking it, her fingers brushing against the smooth paper. The colour immediately tugged at her memory, sparking something she couldn't yet place. "What's this?"

Cassiopeia's lips twitched upward into that maddeningly cryptic smile. "An invitation."

Hollie turned the envelope over, inspecting it as if it might hold an immediate answer. "To what?"

"Can't tell you," Cassiopeia replied lightly, her voice carrying a teasing lilt. "Spoilers."

Hollie sighed deeply, her fingers tightening around the envelope. "And the Doctor?"

Cassiopeia's smile faltered, just for a second, before returning. "Spoilers," she repeated, this time softer, more careful.

Hollie let out a quiet, frustrated laugh, rubbing her forehead. "I can see why the Doctor hates that word so much."

Cassiopeia chuckled and stepped toward the door, pausing with her hand on the handle. She glanced back, her tone suddenly more casual. "Oh, and just so you know—next time you see me, I won't remember any of this. So, you know, maybe don't go waving knives at me."

Hollie blinked, startled. "Knives? Why would I—what are you on about?"

Cassiopeia's grin returned, bright and impish. "You'll figure it out."

Hollie shook her head, letting out a soft chuckle. "Tell Orion and Nova I said hi, will you?"

"Always," Cassiopeia said, her voice warm as she nodded. "Take care, Hollie."

"Yeah," Hollie said, watching as Cassiopeia opened the door. "Bye."

Cassiopeia looked over her shoulder one last time, offering a playful wink before disappearing into the hallway.

"Bye."

After Cassiopeia left, Hollie sat on the edge of her bed, the envelope in her hands. It was the exact shade of blue that tugged at her memories. Carefully, she opened it.

Inside was a card with a simple message typed in bold text:

Lake Silencio, Utah

22/04/2011

4:30 MDT

Hollie frowned, her thoughts racing. That's two months away.

Tucked behind the card was a plane ticket to Salt Lake City—and behind that, a thick wedge of cash. Hollie pulled it out, her breath catching as she counted. $1,000.

Her heart twisted. Only one person would send her an envelope with a plane ticket, cash, and cryptic instructions.

"The Doctor," she muttered, shaking her head.

Because who else would be stupid enough to casually hand out $1000? If this was his way of apologising he was going about it completely the wrong way about it.

"This had better be good."

The two months flew by faster than Hollie expected. The plane journey to America, however, was anything but pleasant. As she sat in the cramped, uncomfortable seat, surrounded by strangers and the constant noise of the cabin, Hollie couldn't help but long for the TARDIS. She'd complained often enough about the Doctor's wild piloting, but turbulence, takeoff, and landing were undoubtedly worse.

When she finally landed in Salt Lake City, it was dark. The next day, she'd head to her mysterious destination. For now, Hollie sighed as she stepped outside the airport, realising she hadn't even bothered to bring a change of clothes. All she'd packed were her phone and the blue envelope with its puzzling contents: a ticket, a location, and far too much cash.

A nearby motel caught her eye—cheap and close enough not to require much effort. She flagged a cab, climbing into the back seat. The driver, gruff and quiet, kept glancing at her through the rearview mirror, clearly puzzled by the lone young British woman with barely any luggage. Hollie ignored him. All she wanted was to end the day, and to keep herself distracted until the time came to find out what on earth—or beyond it—the Doctor was playing at.

The motel room was slightly shabby, its decor decades out of date, but Hollie barely noticed as she flopped onto the bed. She stared at the ceiling, her thoughts circling endlessly. Why was the Doctor doing this? Why couldn't he just pick her up like a normal person? Was he punishing her for something? Was he mad at her? The thought twisted something sharp and bitter inside her. She frowned. No, she corrected herself. If anyone has the right to be angry, it's me.

Eventually, sleep claimed her, restless though it was.

The next morning, Hollie woke late, feeling groggy but determined to keep busy until the inevitable. She spent the morning wandering the streets of Salt Lake City, darting in and out of shops to kill time. She browsed antiques, clothing racks, and even a dingy old DVD store. None of it held her attention for long.

It wasn't until she stepped into a peculiar shop—part antiques, part curiosities—that she paused. The air smelled faintly of old books and leather polish. Shelves were crammed with dusty trinkets, strange oddities, and stacks of impossibly aged books. At the back of the store, an entire wall gleamed with an array of weapons: swords, crossbows, pistols, and knives.

Hollie stopped, staring. Cassiopeia's cryptic comment about knives echoed in her mind. She frowned. Was this what she'd meant? Was she supposed to... buy herself weapons? Why?

Her gaze landed on two silver daggers, identical in design. They were sleek, with thin, straight blades and matte black handles that felt both elegant and foreboding. Hollie tilted her head, intrigued despite herself.

"Fuck it," she muttered under her breath, stepping toward the counter.

The shopkeeper, an older man with sharp eyes and a weathered face, barely glanced up from the dusty book in his hands. Hollie cleared her throat.

"The daggers," she said, raising her eyebrows and gesturing toward the case at the back of the shop.

"The matte finish ones?" he asked, pushing himself off the stool with a grunt. His keys clattered as he shuffled toward the case.

Hollie nodded, following him.

"They're not cheap, you know," the shopkeeper muttered, unlocking the glass casing and sliding it open. He picked up one dagger carefully, twisting it in the light. "Silver-plated blades, probably early 20th century. See this detail here?" He gestured to a faint engraving on the handle. "Hand-forged. A bit of history in your hand."

Hollie raised an eyebrow. "How much?"

He studied her for a moment, his gaze calculating but not unkind. "Four hundred for the pair," he said. "It's a bargain, honestly. I've had them for years, and no one's shown much interest." He shrugged as he handed her one. "But they're in excellent condition. If you take care of them, they'll outlast us both."

Hollie accepted the dagger, turning it over in her hand. The blade was solid and balanced, its weight grounding her in a way she didn't expect. It felt natural, almost as if it belonged to her.

"Deal," she said, pulling out the envelope of cash and counting out the amount.

The man gave a short nod of approval and carefully wrapped the daggers in a thick piece of cloth, his movements deliberate. "Take care of these," he said, his tone softening as he slid them across the counter. "They've been waiting a long time for someone to put them to good use."

Outside the shop, Hollie frowned. She couldn't exactly carry the daggers around in her hands. Her eyes caught on a nearby leather goods store down the street, and she smiled faintly.

The scent of leather hit her as she stepped inside. The shop was small, cluttered with belts, satchels, and even a leather sofa tucked into the corner. Hollie's gaze landed on a belt with discreet sheaths on either side. It was simple, practical, and perfect.

The shopkeeper, a middle-aged woman with keen eyes, noticed the daggers wrapped in Hollie's hands. "Looking for something specific?"

"That belt," Hollie said, nodding toward the one with the sheaths. "I need something practical. I don't want them on show." She hesitated before adding, "My boyfriend wouldn't approve."

The words tasted strange. Was the Doctor even her boyfriend anymore? He'd vanished for months after their argument, leaving her with nothing but silence. But then again, he'd never been a typical boyfriend to begin with.

The woman chuckled, pulling out a similar belt from behind the counter. "This one might be better—slimmer, more discreet. Try it on."

Hollie adjusted the belt around her waist, sliding the daggers into the sheaths. At first, it felt foreign, almost ridiculous. But as she tucked it under her shirt and glanced in the mirror, she realised how invisible they were. To anyone else, she'd look like any ordinary traveller.

"I like it," Hollie said. "How much?"

"A hundred for the belt, fifty for a custom fit. I can adjust it for those daggers in a few hours."

Hollie checked her phone. Half twelve. "I need to be somewhere in four hours. Will that work?"

The woman smiled. "You're in luck. Three hours, tops."

By the time the belt was ready, Hollie had worn a path into the shop's carpet. She adjusted the fit under her shirt, thanked the shopkeeper, and left with a quiet determination. The daggers were snug against her sides, hidden but within easy reach.

Her cab arrived minutes later. She climbed in, handing the driver the address from the card. As the city blurred past, Hollie's thoughts raced. Everything about this felt strange and calculated. She had no idea what waited for her at Lake Silencio—but one thing was certain. The Doctor had better have a damned good explanation.

But, much to her annoyance over an hour later Hollie stepped foot out of the cab, almost out of money now she sighed and walked into a diner with a defeated look on her face. Whatever she needed to show up for, she was late and she knew the Doctor wouldn't let her live it down.

But the look on her face grew from defeated to horrified when she spotted him.

He was sitting comfortably in one of the booths, his back to her, but there was no mistaking him. She could see that stupid brown tweed jacket from across the room, the ridiculous flop of unruly hair. And she could already imagine his big, beautiful—no, stop it, Hollie,—green eyes.

"Doctor..." she whispered, her voice trembling as she took a hesitant step toward him. "What are you doing here?"

He turned slowly, almost as though he hadn't expected to hear her voice. His eyes were wide when they landed on her. "Hollie." Her name came out like a foreign word, strange and fragile. Even now, after months apart, she wasn't used to him calling her by it. It was always Holls. His nickname for her, the one that carried the weight of everything that had gone wrong. It reminded her why she'd left him.

But that didn't stop it from hurting, fresh and sharp, like reopening an unhealed wound.

She stepped further into the diner, her eyes scanning him as he slid out of the booth to stand. Her heart twisted painfully at the sight of him. He looked worse than she had ever seen him—more tired, more broken, more defeated. Worse than when he'd lain smoking at the bottom of the stairs in the National Museum after the Dalek shot him.

And yet, here he was, proving it was possible to look worse than death itself.

Her eyes dropped to his neck, and her heart sank further.

The bow tie was gone.

His neck looked wrong without that familiar flash of red or blue, neatly tied and tucked under his collar. It was a small thing, yet its absence cut deeply.

Hollie pushed her feelings for the missing accessory aside, letting out a bitter laugh as her arms folded instinctively across her chest. "Of course, it was you," she said, shaking her head. "It could only ever be you."

The Doctor blinked, confusion clouding his face. "What—"

"Is this some kind of sick joke?" she demanded, storming up to him, her words laced with anger that felt months overdue. He instinctively stepped back, guilt already flickering across his expression.

"I waited for you," she continued, her voice rising, her jaw tight as she fought the urge to jab a finger into his chest just to prove her point more. "I waited because you said I was different. You lied."

"It's only been a week..." he murmured, his voice quiet, almost timid as he stared at her with wide, uncomprehending eyes.

"For you!" she snapped, her voice breaking. "For me, it's been eight months."

The words hit him like a physical blow. He stumbled back, guilt washing over him in waves. His mouth opened, but only a stuttered, broken attempt at a response came out. "I—I didn't mean to—"

"No." She crossed her arms. "You didn't," she replied with an icy glare, "just like you didn't mean to let me leave without any knowledge of where I was. I had no money, nowhere to stay. It was practically the middle of the night too!" She stepped closer to him again, swallowing hard as she looked up at him, tears welling in her eyes as the emotions took over and her anger turned into something else. Something she couldn't quite name, was she upset that it had only been a week for him? Possibly. Was she upset that he had waited that long? Most definitely. "I could have died."

He shook his head instantly. "No, you're clever Hollie."

She scoffed at him and didn't stop herself from rolling her eyes. "Clever people can die Doctor." She blinked away her tears and took in a shaky breath before she continued to speak. "A kind old woman took pity on me because of the state, you, left me in. She was kind enough to let me stay for the night and then I had to make up a lie that my boyfriend wasn't coming back." She shook her head turning away from him and casting a look over her shoulder. "And I was right. He didn't come back for me."

His shoulders slumped at her words and how much they broke his hearts. He didn't mean to do this, he didn't expect her to be here. How could she even be here? He was planning on going to get her after he had figured out who had summoned him after distracting himself all damn week with his silly little marks in history as a joke to the Ponds.

His eyes widened suddenly as he remembered. The Ponds! If Hollie was here, they had to be close by. "Did you tell them?" he asked, his voice urgent as he moved to stand in front of her again.

She looked at him, puzzled. "Tell who?"

"Amy and Rory," he clarified. "About this, us."

She scoffed again, this time with a note of disbelief. "What us?"

His face fell further than before. Oh.

He deserved that one even if it break his hearts even more.

"But no," she continued, her tone sharp with bitterness. "I haven't spoken to them since before our argument. For once, I just wanted to be on my own and forget. Forget about my stupid little life with my stupid condition and just... be alone."

"Hollie..." His voice was soft, almost pleading, but her words cut deep. He felt a pang in his chest at the way she referred to her ability to regenerate—as though it were something broken. "You're not stupid, and neither is your life."

"You seem to think so." Her reply was instant, like a reflex, and it hit him harder than he wanted to admit.

He shook his head, trying to ignore the ache spreading in his chest at her words. At the way she believed them. He couldn't stand it, not for a second, because it wasn't true—not to him, not in any universe.

"You're not," he said firmly, his voice steady despite the chaos within him. "I swear, Hollie, I'll fix this. I'll make it up to you. I promise."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Then say my name."

"Hollie?" He replied confusion covering his features.

"That's my point." She huffed, pulling her gaze away from him.

The Doctor's gaze swept over her, his expression tinged with exhaustion, until something unfamiliar caught his eye. Poking out from beneath her unbuttoned plaid shirt was the edge of something he didn't recognise. His brow furrowed.

"What is that?" he asked sharply, stepping toward her.

Hollie stiffened. "What's what?"

He didn't answer, already reaching out. "Hold still."

"Hey!" Hollie snapped, trying to bat his hand away, but he was faster. He tugged her shirt aside just enough for the edge of a black sheath to come into view. His eyes widened, his jaw falling slack.

"What," he breathed, staring at the belt around her waist. His voice rose as he gestured emphatically. "What is that?"

"It's a belt," Hollie said tersely, shoving his hand away and fixing her shirt with an irritated glare.

The Doctor ignored her glare entirely, his focus locked on the sheath. "Why do you have daggers?" he demanded, his voice a mix of confusion and alarm.

"Because you gave me $1,000, and I decided to spend it," Hollie replied with a huff, crossing her arms.

"That's not an answer!" he shot back, taking a step closer, his eyes narrowing. "Daggers, Hollie. Sharp, pointy, dangerous daggers. What, exactly, possessed you to buy those of all things?"

She rolled her eyes, her frustration bubbling over. "Maybe I liked them. Maybe I thought they'd come in handy."

"Handy for what?" he exclaimed, his voice climbing in pitch. "Handy for stabbing things? People? Do you even know how to use them properly?"

"Maybe I do!" she snapped, stepping toward him, her hands on her hips.

He blinked at her, momentarily thrown off balance. "You—you don't."

Hollie tilted her head, her voice biting. "And whose fault is that, Doctor? Hmm? Eight months stuck on Earth, no TARDIS, no alien invasions to deal with—what do you think I've been doing with my time?"

"You've been practising?" His voice cracked with incredulity.

"Maybe," she said flatly, her expression unreadable. "You haven't been around to know what I've been doing. I could have been doing anything."

The Doctor threw his hands in the air. "This is mad! You're mad!"

"Pot, meet kettle," Hollie shot back, her voice dripping with sarcasm.

He opened his mouth, clearly ready to launch into another tirade, but she cut him off.

"Where's your bow tie?"

The sudden shift made him blink in confusion. "What?"

"You heard me," she said, her voice sharp. "Where. Is. Your. Bow tie?"

He frowned, his brow furrowing deeply as though trying to puzzle out her logic. "Don't change the subject, Hollie."

"Oh, I'm not changing the subject," she said, her teeth clenched. "Answer the question. Where's your bow tie?"

"In the TARDIS," he replied automatically, his voice tight, before shaking his head in frustration. "But that's not—Hollie, we're talking about you carrying around weapons! Actual weapons! That's the subject."

"And what are you going to do about it?" she challenged, her eyes flashing. "Take them off me? Throw them into a black hole? You don't get to dictate what I do with my life Doctor. You left me alone and then suddenly months later I receive an invitation that could only be from you and I know what your life is like and it's dangerous. If you can't protect me I have to at least protect myself."

Her words hit him like a slap, and for a moment, he just stared at her, guilt and frustration warring in his expression. Finally, he sighed, rubbing a hand over his face.

"I'll fix this, Hollie," he said quietly, his voice no longer rising but still firm. "I'll fix it. I swear."

His gaze flickered back to her belt, peaking out from under her shirt, and his jaw tightened again. "But this? This isn't over."

Hollie rolled her eyes, turning her back on him. "Sure, Doctor. Whatever you say."

He lingered for a moment, his mouth opening as if to say more, but then he shook his head, muttering something under his breath as he turned toward the doors.

She rolled her eyes but followed him anyways. She couldn't help it, whatever he was up to intrigued her and he hadn't expected her to be here so she wondered who had invited her if not him? Who would have given her one thousand dollars and a plane ticket like it was nothing? "Where are you going now?"

"To get my special straw. It adds extra fizz." He replied over his shoulder. "Oh, and my bowtie that you're so insistent on me wearing."

She shrugged. "A friend repeatedly reminded me that bowties are cool."

His lip twitched into a small smile. "Yeah... they are." He shook his head and wiped the smile off his face, frowning again.

"So why stop wearing them?"

His face fell at her question and he paused in his steps for a brief moment. "Because you left." He admitted quietly. "It felt... wrong."

She lowered her gaze. "Right."

"Come on." He muttered pushing open the doors that probably led to the bathrooms but instead the TARDIS was parked in the middle of the corridor, completely blocking the path. The Doctor unlocked the door and stepped inside. Hollie followed him and he watched her carefully as she walked past him. A soft smile found its way on his lips as he saw warmth instantly return to her eyes when she looked at the time rotor in the middle of the room. "She's missed you, you know," he said quietly, still watching her.

"I've missed her," Hollie admitted, pulling her gaze away from the rotor to look at him before turning back and she sighed softly, all anger seeping away in an instant. "I'm sorry I left."

The Doctor's gaze flickered to the ground, his hearts heavy with guilt and for a moment, Hollie wasn't sure who she was actually apologising to—the TARDIS or him.

The TARDIS hummed softly, as if responding, and the Doctor shook his head as he nodded down a corridor. "I won't be long."

Hollie nodded and sighed, hearing him disappear. She leaned against the console and closed her eyes. The flood of emotions was almost too much to bear. This is hard.

"I know his rescuer."

Hollie blinked. It had been a while since the TARDIS had spoken to her like that. The last time was through the voice interface. "TARDIS?" She questioned.

"Rescuer." It replied in the same tone.

Hollie frowned. Why now? Why would it reach out to her after all this time?

"Don't leave him alone." The TARDIS told her and she rolled her eyes. Of course, it was reading her thoughts. "He's an idiot but he's your idiot and he needs you."

"Then why does he push me away and look through me half the time?"

"Because he is ridiculous but he is also wonderful at the same time, he'll see you soon. I promise"

"When?"

"Soon."

She huffed, almost glaring at the rotor. "You really are annoying at times, you know."

"Oh, I know," came the Doctor's voice light and teasing.

Hollie jumped slightly, turning to see him strolling back into the room with what looked like a regular plastic straw in his hand. She blinked at him, realising he must have assumed she'd been talking to him—and, honestly, she might have said it to him anyway.

Shaking her head, she gestured toward the straw. "That's a normal straw."

"It is not!" he protested immediately, his tone mock-defensive.

"It is too," she countered, narrowing her eyes at him.

"Not," he shot back, stepping closer, his grin widening.

"Too," she replied, holding her ground, arms folding across her chest.

"Not," he repeated, now so close she could feel the faint warmth radiating off him.

Her gaze flicked to his bow tie, back where it belonged, neatly knotted under his collar. The sight made her smile without thinking. It was so him, a comforting piece of ridiculousness that felt like everything falling back into place.

"Doctor," she said softly, her amusement giving way to something warmer.

He hesitated for a moment, his grin softening into a gentler expression. Then, with an almost tentative motion, he reached out and took her hand, his fingers curling around hers.

For a moment, they simply stood there, close enough for the air between them to hum with everything unspoken. There was still pain behind both their eyes, but it wasn't as sharp as it had been in the diner.

He glanced down at the straw in his hand, then back at her. The corners of his mouth twitched upward. "Not just a straw," he murmured, holding it up with mock solemnity. "This one does add extra fizz, but only if you're imaginative enough to notice."

Hollie rolled her eyes, though the smile stayed on her lips. "Still annoying."

"And you wouldn't have it any other way," he replied with a slight tilt of his head, his voice lighter now, though the tenderness remained in his gaze. "See. Told you I'll fix it," he murmured.

She huffed, somewhere between frustration and amusement, shaking her head. But the warmth in her eyes betrayed her feelings while she let go of his hand and crossed her arms at him. "You can't suddenly fix everything, Doctor. Eight months in a pub doesn't just... vanish because you flash that bow tie and toss in a bit of flirting."

"A pub?" He tilted his head at her. "What were you doing in a pub for eight months?"

"Working a job." She rolled her eyes at him. "Honestly, what did you expect me to do?"

"I imagine mostly art." he shrugged.

She rolled her eyes at him again. "I did draw and paint, eventually but theres only so much money art can get you when you're in Kingsbury."

"Why were you in Kingsbury?" He frowned. "And where even is Kingsbury?" He frowned. "Is that London?"

"You left me there!" She huffed taking her hand away from him and crossing her arms.

"Oh." He winced. "Sorry."

"And it's Warwickshire." She added, her lip twitching upwards before she couldn't help but laugh and shake her head at him, she hated that she was laughing and smiling with him. She was supposed to be upset and angry but she was Hollie Aria and he was the Doctor and she could never truly stay completely angry at him, even if he still didn't see her for who she was.

"Why are we here, Doctor?" she asked, her laughter fading into a soft sigh.

He shrugged, the corners of his mouth lifting in a playful smirk. "No idea," he said, extending his hand toward her. "Want to find out?"

Hollie blinked, her gaze flicking down to his outstretched hand. It was different this time—he wasn't taking her hand without asking, pulling her along as though the decision was already made. He was offering it, leaving the choice entirely in her hands.

Her chest tightened as she realised the weight of the gesture, the way it spoke louder than anything he could have said. She glanced back at him, her lips curving into a small, genuine smile.

Sliding her hand into his, she felt the warmth of his grip, steady and sure, as if he were quietly promising her the universe again. For the first time in eight months, her life felt closer to right—like it had been when it was just the two of them exploring, before everything fell apart.

"Go on, then," she said softly, the words carrying more trust than she'd realised she still had.

The Doctors smile widened as he exited the TARDIS with Hollie beside him and they pushed the double doors open together before blinking when Amy, Rory, River and the Time Trio all slowly turned around to look at him and Hollie.

Amy, Rory and River all had unreadable expressions on their faces that made Hollie frown while Orion, Cassiopeia and Nova and glanced at each other.

"This is cold." River carefully replied as she stared at the pair. "Even by your standards Hollie, this is cold."

"Or hello, as people used to say." The Doctor tilted his head slightly.

"Doctor?" Amy questioned. "Hollie?"

"We just popped out to get my special straw. It adds more fizz." He shrugged.

"You're okay." She frowned. "How can you be okay?"

"Hey, of course I'm okay." The Doctor shared a frown with Hollie before pulling Amy into a hug. "I'm always okay. I'm the King of Okay."

Hollie wrinkled her nose, her expression one of pure distaste.

The Doctor pointed at her reaction, nodding as though she'd made an excellent point. "Oh, rubbish title. Absolutely rubbish. Forget that title." He waved a hand dismissively before letting go of Amy and pivoting abruptly. "Rory the Roman!" He threw his arms around a very stunned-looking Rory. "Now that's a good title. Hello, Rory."

Rory managed an awkward pat on the back, clearly baffled, as the Doctor turned his attention to the trio standing off to the side. He looked at them, mock exasperation painted across his face, and let out a theatrical sigh.

"Not you three."

Cassiopeia exchanged a grin with her siblings before tilting her head. "Can we take him back?" she joked, earning soft chuckles from Orion and Nova.

The Doctor shook his head at them. "Doctor River Song." He turned to the woman who just stared at him and Hollies frown only deepened at what was a blank and now forming into an angered look on her face. "What trouble have you got for us this time?"

River didn't answer. Instead, she spun sharply toward Hollie, her arm moving before anyone had time to react.

The slap landed hard against Hollie's left cheek with a loud crack, leaving the room in stunned silence. Hollie yelped, staggering back as her hand flew to her face.

The Trio stared, wide-eyed, their reactions ranging from shock to barely concealed amusement.

"I was not expecting that," Orion said, pointing at River.

"Someone failed to mention that to us," Cassiopeia muttered, her lips twitching with a snicker.

"River!" The Doctor shouted, stepping between the two women, his hands raised between them and his eyes wide. River crossed her arms while Hollie lightly touched her cheek, wincing slightly.

Well that bloody hurt.

"What was that for?" The Doctor narrowed his eyes at her, looking back at Hollie as he winced at the very red mark on her face.

"For allowing you to do something stupid and keeping it to herself."

She frowned. "I haven't-"

"She means in the future," the Doctor supplied, turning back to Hollie with a slightly worried look on his face.

"Oh." Hollie blinked, processing the information. "I probably deserved it then," she said, tilting her head thoughtfully. "If it got that reaction from River, I must've let you do something stupid." She sighed, resigned.

The Doctor smirked. "That's debatable."

She shook her head immediately. "It's you. Of course it's stupid."

"Hey!" he huffed, his indignation almost comical.

"I think it's actually a pretty reasonable reaction," Cassiopeia chimed in, shrugging with a grin.

"I don't understand." Rory looked at Hollie and then the Doctor. "How can you be here?"

"We were invited." The Doctor gestured to himself and Hollie as he pulled out his blue card identical to the one Hollie had received. "Date, map reference." He held the card up. "Same as you lot, I assume, otherwise it's a hell of a coincidence."

"What's going on?" Amy asked.

"Amy, ask him how old he is," River ordered, her tone casual but pointed.

"That's a bit personal," the Doctor replied defensively, crossing his arms.

"Doctor," Hollie said, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Just tell them."

He sighed, his posture slumping in mock defeat. "Nine hundred and nine," he said with a shrug, then turned to Hollie with a huff. "You already know how old I am. Why couldn't you just say it?"

"It's funnier when you say it," she replied, shrugging with a faint smirk. Then her expression shifted, her tone sharpening slightly. "And eight months." She gave him a pointed look. "I've had bigger things to worry about than your age."

Amy frowned, her curiosity piqued. "Eight months?"

Hollie waved a dismissive hand. "It's a long story."

The Trio snickered while the Doctor huffed again like a child as Amy only frowned further. "Hang on you said you were-"

"So where does that leave us, huh?" River quickly cut in. "Jim the fish? Have we done Jim the fish yet?"

The Doctor chuckled slightly. "Who's Jim the fish?"

"I don't understand," Amy spoke up.

"Yeah, you do," Nova replied.

"We don't!" The Doctor huffed, gesturing to himself and Hollie, the pair clearly missing whatever the others understood. "What are we all doing here?"

"We've been recruited," River announced, her tone matter-of-fact. "Something to do with space, 1969, and a man called Canton Everett Delaware the Third."

"Recruited by who?" the Doctor asked, his frown deepening.

"Someone who trusts you more than anyone else in the universe," River said, her voice carrying that infuriatingly cryptic edge.

The Doctor paused, his expression thoughtful, before slowly turning to look at Hollie.

"Me?" Hollie blinked, taking a step back as she processed his silent accusation. "Doctor, it wasn't me." Her voice turned sharper, defensive. "Why would you even think that?" She scoffed, folding her arms. "Especially after what you did."

"That's cute," Orion said aloud, his tone teasing as Amy glanced between her friends.

"What did he do?" Amy asked, her brow furrowing.

"Doesn't matter," the Doctor interjected swiftly, his tone clipped as his gaze flicked back to Hollie.

"It is, isn't it?" Cassiopeia said, smirking at her brother.

"Very," Nova agreed, her gaze bouncing between them.

The Doctor tilted his head, letting out a small huff. "Well, I can't think of anyone else." He shrugged, his tone carrying just enough exasperation to fuel Hollie's glare. "Who else would it be?"

She crossed her arms at him and Amy frowned at them. What had he done?

"Spoilers," River replied.

Hollie looked at the Doctor, who sighed. "Come on then." He grumbled leading them towards the TARDIS. Hollie gently placed a hand on the Doctors arm. "What are you going to do?"

"Take them home, then try to make it up to you. For a start how does a biplane lesson sound?"

She chuckled softly, shaking her head. "You can't just fix everything like it's your bow tie."

"And why not?" he asked, his tone light but his expression tinged with uncertainty.

Her smile faltered as she sighed. "Because you still haven't answered my question correctly."

His brow furrowed as she turned and walked into the TARDIS, her words hanging in the air between them. He stayed where he was, watching her retreating figure, before letting out a breath he didn't realise he'd been holding.

Closing his eyes, he tried to steady the gnawing ache in his chest. If he could just pretend—just for a little while—that things were fine between them, maybe it wouldn't hurt so much. Maybe he could convince himself everything was still the way it used to be.

But the hollow feeling in his chest remained, and he couldn't ignore the truth: he wasn't sure how to fix this.

Hollie stood by the console with her arms crossed. Amy, Rory and River and the Time Trio joined her and the Doctor suddenly ran up to the console and Hollie couldn't help but smile at how excitable he had suddenly become as he ran around it.

"1969, that's an easy one!" He exclaimed, dancing past Hollie. "Funny, how some years are easy. Now, 1482, full of glitches. Now then, Canton Everett Delaware the third. That was his name, yeah?" He questioned, eyes flicking over to watch as River and Amy stood quietly. "How many of those can there be?" He continued. "Well, three, I suppose." Hollie chuckled and the Doctor looked at Rory as Amy and River headed under the console, the Trio following a moment later. "Rory, is everybody cross with me for some reason?"

"I'll find out." He slowly replied and quickly followed the others.

Hollie crossed her arms, leaning against the console. "Why do you think they're mad at you?" she asked, narrowing her eyes.

The Doctor frowned, gesturing vaguely in the direction River had stormed off. "Mad at me? River slapped you! What could I possibly have done this time?"

"Something I apparently let you do," Hollie replied, mimicking River's earlier words with a roll of her eyes. "Whatever that means."

"Well, that's ridiculous," he huffed, straightening his bow tie as if to bolster his point. "You don't let me do things—I just do things."

She raised an eyebrow. "Uh-huh. And how often do I have to stop you from 'just doing things'?"

The Doctor faltered, his lips twitching as if he wanted to argue but couldn't quite muster a defence. "Occasionally," he muttered, then quickly added, "but that's entirely different!"

Hollie smirked, stepping closer. "So, if River's right, and I let you do something reckless, it's still on you. You'd have done it anyway because, let's face it, you don't exactly need encouragement to dive headfirst into chaos, do you?"

"No!" he shot back, then hesitated, frowning. "Well... not entirely. Maybe a little."

"Exactly," she quipped. "It's both of us. Equal opportunity idiocy."

The Doctor opened his mouth to argue, but her grin stopped him short. Instead, he let out a dramatic sigh, ruffling his hair. "Still, she didn't have to slap you for it."

"And it hurt!" Hollie protested, pouting slightly as she touched her cheek. "She slaps hard."

"I heard," he muttered, wincing as he eyed the red mark. "Are you okay?"

She shrugged, a smirk tugging at her lips despite herself. "Could be worse."

"Worse?" he asked suspiciously.

Her smirk widened. "Could have been you she slapped."

"Oi!" His eyes narrowed, his indignation barely hiding his amusement. "What's that supposed to mean?!"

She laughed, pointing at him gleefully. "You'd never stop crying about it if she had."

"You're really rude," he muttered, his arms folding across his chest in an exaggerated pout.

"And you deserve it," she replied, her grin widening as her laughter filled the room.

He huffed at her before eyeing the stairs leading under the console. "What are they even doing down there?"

"No idea. Maybe they're conspiring against us." She raised a brow.

"Us?" He repeated. "More like you."

"Rude."

"Truth."

"Flirt!" She accused.

He shook his head still smirking. "I've missed you Hollie Aria"

She cracked a small smile. "I've missed you too, Doctor."

The Doctor smiled back at her and then huffed. "I don't like whatever they're all talking about, down there." He eyes them under the glass flooring.

Hollie shrugged. "They clearly were all somewhere together before the diner."

The Doctor frowned. "But where... the invitation said the diner?"

Hollie nodded and watched the Doctor go over to the edge of the TARDIS' main lever, crouch on the ground and poke his head, upside down at them. "I'm being extremely clever up here, and there's no one to stand around looking impressed. What's the point in having you all?"

"Isn't Hollie up there?" Rory frowned as the Doctor pulled himself back up.

"Yeah." Amy shook her head.

River glanced at the triplets. "Couldn't you just slap him sometimes?"

"It isn't really our place to do that." Cassiopeia snickered. "If we could we would."

Hollie shook her head at the Doctor. "You could have spoken to them through the glass floor."

He shrugged. "That's not as funny."

She rolled her eyes before watching as the six other occupants all walked back up the stairs to join the Doctor and Hollie by the console. "Time isn't a straight line. It's all bumpy wumpy." The Doctor explained. "There's loads of boring stuff like Sundays and Tuesdays and Thursday afternoons. But now and then there are Saturdays. Big temporal tipping points when anything's possible. The TARDIS can't resist them, like a moth to a flame." He winked at Hollie before moving around her and to another part of the console. "She loves a party, so I give her 1969 and NASA, because that's space in the sixties, and Canton Everett Delaware the third, and this is where she's pointing." He typed on the typewriter on the console before hitting enter.

"Washington D.C., April the eighth, 1969." Amy read on the screen before frowning. "So why haven't we landed?"

"Because that's not where we're going." The Doctor replied.

"Oh?" Rory frowned. "Where are we going?"

"Home. Well, you two are." He gestured to Amy and Rory. "Off you pop and make babies. You three can go back to wherever you were before this and, Doctor Song," he pointed at the woman, "back to prison. Me and Hollie are late for a biplane lesson in 1911. Or it could be knitting." He frowned. "Knitting or biplanes, Hollie?"

She shrugged. "Knittings a bit boring..."

He nodded and Hollie frowned when the Doctor suddenly sat down and rubbed his forehead. "What?" He looked up at the six who disappeared under the console. "A mysterious summons. You think I'm just going to go? Who sent those messages? I know you know. I can see it in your faces. Don't play games with me. Don't ever, ever think you're capable of that."

"You're going to have to trust us this time." River replied.

"Trust Hollie, Amy, and Rory? Sure." He stood up. "But you?" He tilted his head at her, eyes flickering to the trio for a moment as they stayed quiet. "Before I trust you, Doctor Song there's just one thing. Who are you?" He stepped towards her. "You're someone from my future, possibly Hollie's, I have a few suspensions. Most likely wrong. But who?" River stayed silent as he talked. "Okay. Why are you in prison? Who did you kill, hmm? Now, I love a mystery, me, look at Hollie for instance. She's full of mystery and then theres those three..." he glanced at the triplets. "I trust them just about enough, but trust you? Seriously."

Amy slowly shook her head. "Trust me, then."

The Doctor turned to her before answering. "Okay."

"Doctor, you have to do this, and you can't ask why." She added.

"Are you being threatened?" He asked, a scowl on his face. "Is someone making you say that?"

"No." Amy shook her head. "No one's forcing me to say anything."

He narrowed his eyes and stepped towards her. "You're lying."

"Doctor, I'm not lying."

"Swear to me," the Doctor said, his voice low and insistent. "Swear to me on something that matters."

Amy hesitated, her eyes flicking toward him before she sighed softly. "Alright." She met his gaze and straightened. "Hollie Aria's life."

Both the Doctor and Hollie blinked at Amy's words, the room falling into an uneasy silence. The Doctor's face tightened, his jaw clenching as the weight of her choice settled over him. His eyes darted to Hollie for a split second, the guilt flickering behind them unmistakable. Then, slowly, he nodded once.

Without a word, he stepped forward and hugged Amy, his hands gripping her shoulders like she was anchoring him to the moment. Hollie tilted her head, watching the exchange with a curious frown. It was an interesting choice, swearing on her life, especially considering she hadn't spoken to Amy in months.

The Doctor finally pulled back, his expression softening. "Your best friend and my own life in your hands, Amelia Pond." His voice was quiet but firm.

Then, as if flipping a switch, he clapped his hands together, the tension giving way to his usual energy. "So!" he exclaimed, darting toward the TARDIS console and beginning to fiddle with the controls.

Amy let out a shaky breath, but her shoulders remained stiff under Hollie's gaze. Hollie frowned, crossing her arms as she looked between Amy and River, the unease in the room prickling at the back of her mind.

"Thank you," River murmured to Amy, her voice barely audible but carrying a depth of emotion that only made Hollie more suspicious. Amy shifted uncomfortably, her eyes refusing to meet Hollie's.

The blonde's frown deepened as she watched them, a cold knot forming in her stomach. What were they hiding?

"Canton Everett Delaware the third. Who's he?" The Doctor asked.

"Ex FBI." River asked. "Got kicked out."

"Why?" The Doctor questioned looking at her.

Hollie shrugged. "Wasn't it to do with rebelling or something?" She frowned.

"Not sure." The Doctor shrugged. "Can't remember."

"Six weeks after he left the Bureau, the President contacted him for a private meeting." Nova explained with a shrug.

"Remind me, who's President?" Cassiopeia frowned.

"Richard Milhouse Nixon. Vietnam, Watergate." River replied. "There's some good stuff, too."

"Not enough," the Doctor commented, glancing at River.

"Hippie!" River shot back, raising an eyebrow.

"Archaeologist," the Doctor countered.

"You two," Hollie interjected, crossing her arms and giving them both a pointed look. "But for what it's worth, I agree with the Doctor."

River smirked, her eyes narrowing slightly. "Looks like you're a hippie too, Holliekins." She winked, her tone dripping with amusement.

The other blonde shrugged and the Doctor shook his head at the pair before he continued: "Okay, since I don't know what I'm getting into this time, for once I'm being discreet. I'm putting the engines on silent."

The Doctor pulled a lever, and the TARDIS let out a loud, mournful wail.

River rolled her eyes dramatically, glancing at Hollie, who giggled as the curly-haired woman reached over and pushed the lever back up. The TARDIS fell silent.

The Doctor frowned at River, catching movement out of the corner of his eye. "Did you do something?"

"No," River replied smoothly, shaking her head. "Just watching."

She shot a wink at Hollie when the Doctor turned back to the console and flicked another switch.

"Putting the outer shield on invisible," he explained, his tone casual. "Haven't done this in a while. Big drain on the power."

Rory blinked, his brow furrowing. "You can turn the TARDIS invisible?"

Before the Doctor could respond, bright lights suddenly flooded the room, illuminating the console.

Cassiopeia sighed and Orion shook his head.

"Very nearly," River remarked, a sly smile tugging at her lips. She nodded toward Nova, who was standing closer to a button on the console. Nova caught the hint and pressed it, the bright lights flickering out almost immediately.

The Doctor poked his head around the console, his eyes narrowing suspiciously at them. "Did you touch something?"

"Not a thing," River raised her hands in mock innocence.

Hollie clamped a hand over her mouth, barely suppressing her giggles as the Doctor's suspicious gaze darted between them.

The Doctor looked at her and narrowed his eyes, pointing at her while his lips curled up in a small smile. "Hush Hollie." He then turned away. "Okay. Now I can't check the scanner. It doesn't work when we're cloaked." He ran to the doors. "Just give us a mo." The Doctor spun around watching the others had followed behind him. "Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa. You lot, wait a moment. We're in the middle of the most powerful city in the most powerful country on Earth. Let's take it slow."

The Doctor slipped out of the doors and River looked at Hollie. "How do you cope with him?"

"At times with great difficulty." She sighed dramatically and her eyes lingered sadly on the door. "It's been a long few months."

─── ｡ﾟ☆･*.☽ .* ☆ﾟ. ───

So it's been a while... I've been busy and life hasn't been the kindest to me lately so I apologise for not having written anything but we're here now and it's still angsty. I missed these two idiots so much because they're so damn stupid it's ridiculous. <3