「i was dreaming something dark. 」

[tardytardis]

[ note: mood music. ]

It was cold on the seas; the Doctor had chosen to stand outside against the railing, hair ruffling in the freezing wind. He was a bit more adapt to cold, due to his lower body temperature, and had spent most of the morning--no, day outside. His regular tweed jacket was gone, replaced by a much more insulated one. He even

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[notanemptymotto]

Despite the fact that the Big Guy was injured and Henry was on a mission of utmost importance, Helen was fairly sure that the mission would have gone fine with herself, Kate, and Will. It was just a retrieval mission after all. Declan opted to take care of the Old City Sanctuary while they were gone. But, she wasn't one to turn down the Doctor if he wanted to help.

Of course she still had to tell him to stop pressing buttons on the ship.

Helen stepped outside onto the hull of the ship. She pulled the hood of her coat up before stuffing her gloved hands into her pockets and joining him.

[tardytardis]

The Doctor chuckled as he looked at her, turning his light green eyes back to the seascape. "I'm not frozen," he stated simply, folding his hands on the railing, elbows perched there safely. After a moment or two, he added; "... yet."

He breathed in deeply before he let out a small cloud of vapor from his lips, shivering slightly as the cold started to get to him, finally, after so long.

"So--what exactly are we retrieving?" He turned, leaning his back against the railing now, looking at her. "I was, well, spacing out. A bit. Just a tiny bit."

[notanemptymotto]

She smiled and shook her head, looking out over the water as a few icebergs came into view. Distant from the the ship of course. She gave a simple shrug before looking at him.

"Some how that is hardly surprising." Helen smiled. "There are is a species that exists on the coasts of Greenland known as Pinniursus maritimus. We're bringing them to the Sanctuary under protection before they dwindle out."

[tardytardis]

"Then there's already a colony, there." The Doctor looked at her as he spoke, tilting his head a bit so his ears weren't so unbearably cold. "Relatively quick work. Well, it's an adventure." He offered Helen a grin, scooting over a bit to knock elbows with her. As he turned and looked out at the sea again, he eyed the icebergs.

"That's a sight I can't say I'm fond of."

[tardytardis]

Leaning against the railing, he took another reading of the water, then wrapped his fingers around the extended part of the sonic, narrowing his eyes. "No--hold on, this water's too cold for that. Then, why... of course! The heat generated by the ship, by us, that warms the water, it's a parasite, it's just found a bit of warmer ground and is, basically, anchoring--"

The Doctor turned sharply and wrenched the door open. "Helen! It's none of those things, it's not a blip, not an iceberg, not an Abnormal, it's--"

... hold on.

He turned, slowly, furrowing his brows together. "TARDIS. No, hold on, I was just on the ship... why am I in the TARDIS? Doesn't make sense..."

[notanemptymotto]

Helen looked up from the book in her hands with her eyebrows raised. Her legs were crossed at the ankles, hair down and curly - compared to the straight that it had just been. It had been straight, hadn't it? She took the moment to glance around the console room before looking back at him.

"No... you were just outside saying good-byes to the locals before we leave." Helen said as she closed the book in her hands. "And, the TARDIS is a ship. Maybe you got it a bit backwards."

[tardytardis]

He eyed Helen with a curious glance, and slowly pulled his jacket away, looking at the interior, then back at her, and around the TARDIS. Oh, no. He really hoped this wasn't a repeat. No, no, of course it couldn't be. He must've been daydreaming. "Yes, quite right." He waved a finger, walking up the stairs to the console and leaning his hands against it. The Doctor shook his head, brushing his bangs from his face.

"Maybe I should take a nap. What do you think? Mall has an absolutely beautiful sleeping parlor! The pillows are made of..." His voice drifted off, and he pulled away from the console.

No red flashing lights, but there was still that feeling. The same feeling that had been plaguing him on the naval ship. He quickly walked over to Helen, crouching down next to her. "Have you felt anything... strange?"

[notanemptymotto]

Her head quirked to the side slightly as he crouched down next to her. "I am always out of my element when I travel with you, Doctor. It makes for a very odd feeling in itself. Beyond that, I'm afraid nothing."

She raised the back of her hand to his forehead. "Well, you certainly aren't running a fever so that rules that out. If you think we need rest, then by all means, take one. Of course this could be an entirely clever rouse in order to get me to actually be your pillow for once."

[notanemptymotto]

The last thing Helen remembered was turning back to the entrance of the crow's nest in order to find the Doctor. Being with the Doctor on the TARDIS and having a parasite so similar to the one in the Bermuda Triangle has come and gone as if it were a waking dream, or if it had never happened at all. She stumbled forward, arms out to catch her even though she knew she'd break something once she hit the floor of the ship.

Except she never hit the floor of the ship.

Helen looked up and around the area around her. A museum? When had she arrived in a museum? Wasn't she just on Navy ship? Stuck, in the middle of the water, off the coast of Greenland? She looked down at herself, finding that she was in the same outfit as before: a blue turtleneck, black pants, and boots with her hair straight and down. The long winter coat was gone however. What the hell was going on?

She reached behind her and pulled out her torch and gun, turning on the torch to look around her.

[tardytardis]

EXTERMINATE! echoed through the museum; distant enough to not be a problem, but still unsettling to hear. What might've been more distressing was the figure slumped near the entrance to an exhibit entitled the 'Pandorica'--because the jacket the tattered, exhausted and near-dying man had was tweed. The Doctor breathed heavily against the doors to the exhibit, before he shakily pushed himself back up, enough to push the doors open. He still had to move all the way down to the actual Pandorica.

Everything in his body ached. He was dying, and quickly--he had to get to the Pandorica as quickly as he could, or he'd die before the plan was carried out, and that couldn't happen.

[notanemptymotto]

Immediately she turned around with her gun up at the sound of the battle cry. Helen rolled her eyes at herself and took a few deeps breaths as she tried to calm her heart rate. It was a museum for God's sake. Someone could have tripped the talking exhibits that they had.

Helen slowly moved down the hallways with her torch and gun up. The beam of light moved across the hallway, moving over the figure of the Doctor. Immediately Helen moved it back as she recognized the tweed fabric. She ran forward, reaching behind her and stuffing the gun back where she normally held it. He hated guns, after all.

"Doctor?!" Helen stopped beside him, arms instinctively going around him when she saw he was struggling.

[tardytardis]

A hand quickly went to her mouth, eyes darting down the passageway. "Not... a... sound." He was barely able to get a sound out, his voice hoarse. He had trouble breathing, standing, trying his best not to sag against her body. His clothes were torn and frayed at the edges, and he looked almost bruised and dirty. His lips were split, the hard breaths forced in between them more audible in the echoing hallways.

He just gestured to the doorway, where the Pandorica stood, shining its restoration field. He hoped she'd understand without his explanation.