Our Story

Chapter 10: Shared History

 "So, Libby, you were looking after Archie while she was Christine. But I'm assuming after several years you had to go offline. I'm sure that was hard for you." The ship thrummed in a sad tone. "But she's okay now, Libby."

The ship's screen came to life and several images came up on it.

"Oh," he said quietly as he bent down, examining the images more carefully. He was so focused on the pictures; he didn't notice Archie come up behind him.

"They were companions. The Bellows and Greg. I picked them up after I was sent away from Gallifrey. We had hardly traveled before I had to use the chameleon arch. Libby built the story so well, Greg and I—we were good friends, which wasn't a hard tale—it was true. The Bellows, they were my adopted parents. I suppose none of them counted on Greg and I falling in love and getting married. It's—it's kind of hard now that I think back—knowing Greg knew all along who I really was. It makes me wonder—Well, anyway, we'll have to go talk to Mom—Lucille, I mean—let her know I'm back."

"She's the reason you're back."

"What do you mean?" she frowned with eyebrows furrowed at his statement.

"She must have gotten some sense that I was a Time Lord as well. She strongly encouraged me to take a look in your jewelry box. She knew you kept the fob watch there and must have known I'd know what to do with it." As he said that he finally looked up from the screen to see her new outfit.

She wore fitted brown pants that went down into calf high brown leather boots. Her shirt was a deep purple wrap. He wasn't sure how it was fastened, but a brown leather belt was around her waist atop the shirt, attached to the belt on her left hip was a holster that appeared to have a sonic screwdriver within it. On the other side of the belt, on her right hip, was a small brown leather pouch. Her long brown hair had been pulled back with a strip of fabric that matched her shirt.

"You look beautiful," the Doctor said openly, he'd been so stunned by her new look that his thoughts got out of his mouth before he had a chance to second guess them.

She looked down, smoothing her hands over her top. "Oh, this old thing?" She turned her head back up to him and grinned.

"Yeah," he said slowly, playfully, "you're right – a right shabby mess, really." He grinned and she mirrored it. His expression changed to one a bit more serious, though he still smiled at her. "So, shall we share our stories first, or after we take Libby to charge up?"

The Archivist looked down at the console, then back up quickly. "She's got a few hours before she'll be in any state to make the journey to Cardiff. We could—are you sure? You weren't sure before—"

He sighed and placed a hand on her shoulder, his fingers absently moving against the new fabric under them. "How can I keep the truth from you, Arch? Of everyone on Gallifrey—you were one of the few steadfast people always there, always faithful, always a friend. You—you were there through everything. You were one of the few who remained pure, who didn't approve of the dark, dark path Gallifrey was taking in the Time War. And now, you're all I have left. We are all we have left. You deserve to know all I've done—no matter how ashamed I might be."

**—**—**

Not much later they sat cross-legged, knees touching each other, in front of the fireplace in the library of Doctor's TARDIS. Their hands rested on their respective knees as their eyes remained closed through their individual meditations in preparation for the shared experience to come. After several minutes, the Doctor felt a nudge at the edge of his mind where Archie's Time Lord presence had taken up residence like a comforting warmth. He opened up to the feeling and heard her voice within his head.