Entis was bleeding. Badly.
He staggered out of his workshop, holding a bandage tightly to his head where the bullet had grazed him. He supposed he should thank his lucky stars that he wasn't dead.
But then again, the dead didn't get headaches.
To say that the workshop was in tatters would be an understatement. You could say that it was frayed at the edges; or you could say that it had been torn apart by a group of baboons irritated by a school group of teenagers with mosquito ringtones.
He made his way through the scattered debris- well, the workshop. Nothing was left of his projects and life's work but scattered debris. But none of that mattered.
He wondered vaguely where Fenn was. Last that he'd seen of her, she had punched a young woman in the mouth after she had shot him. He was sure Fenn had been captured, or she would be here. And she would probably know what to do about the deep gash that ripped from the top of his ear all along the side of his head.
He reached the other side of the former workshop and dragged himself into the corridor of the Shadow Proclamation beyond- it was, as usual, deserted. Entis did not usually appreciate visitors.
The corridor was the kind of corridor you expect to either find engine rooms or muggers along it- concrete walls and floor, lit by far too bright fluorescent lights and pipes running its entire length. Mounted on the wall opposite the door was an alarm. Entis smashed the "In emergency, break glass" glass, obediently pressed the bright red PANIC button and quietly passed out on the floor, as the written instructions on the wall beside the button ordered.
Though, as Entis would later be told by his superior, passing out wasn't anywhere on the list.
Fenn gasped and looked around.
Everything was as she left it- perfectly normal.
It was weird, seeing her house again. Everything was in its place. There were no signs of what had transpired out in the mad flailing whirlpool of a world that was the universe.
She supposed that that was the reason this was her home. Everything could be forgotten here. The burdens of the past and future could be stripped away, until all that remained was the simple, delicate present.
She had seen worlds destroyed, wars fought, become a fugitive and had seen Entis shot since she had last been home. But none of that mattered.
Not here, not now. Everything was still. The world just passed it by, and the sun always seemed to shine through the window.
But something was missing. Entis. Of course.
She could feel the tears welling up in her eyes, and she let them fall. She just couldn't comprehend it. He's dead. She would never be caught dead crying in front of anyone else, but just now she could make a little exception. Her house had seen her laugh, bleed, sweat, cough and worry- it was apt that the old building should see her cry, too.
Not that she hadn't cried when her parents had died. But she hadn't been home then.
She looked around and laughed. Everything about her house was so human. She was standing at the kitchen bench, staring around at her home. There was a lot of yellow and wood; a small window above the sink peeked out over the garden outside. There were books everywhere; her kitchen was basically an extension of her library you could eat in. She peeked out the other window in the room, which faced east, and could see Mrs Bianchi making pasta next door. That just confirmed that everything was normal.
The garden in her back yard was an overgrown tangle of trees, vines and random plants. The only clear patch in the entire garden housed a small bench covered in patterned cushions. Fenn smiled ruefully as she remembered having to use a chainsaw to clear that small patch of garden.
The kitchen was furnished with a small, cheery table and three dining chairs, and a large puffy blue armchair in the corner. There were sunflowers on the table- they had not wilted, so could not have been gone long. There were the usual kitchen utensils along the kitchen, kettle and pots and cups.
In the corner of bench stood a stack of books, and on top of that, a small, compact laptop. There was a DVD case on top of it. Fenn walked over to it; it hadn't been there when she had left last. She picked it up.
Doctor Who Series 5: The Lodger, The Pandorica, and The Big Bang.
She opened the case, and it was empty of the disk. Instead, there was a sticky note tacked in its place.
Who kept leaving her notes? It was getting on her nerves. No explanation. Just 359.
This was more annoying than Moffat's trolling. This time the note wasn't in her writing, but it was the same paper as the one she found in the envelope that Jack had given her. She turned it over and over, and then slipped it into her pocket. She would figure it out later.
She sat down in her armchair, and pulled the converter she had stolen from the Time Agency out of her pocket, and studying it blankly and idly spinning it in her hands. She had planned to hide it in the TARDIS- no-one would look for it there, and the chances were that not even the Doctor would find it. But after the battle in Entis's labs, she wasn't sure where to find him. She couldn't leave it here; the Agency knew where she lived. Nor could she keep it on her. She had to leave it somewhere Hannah of the Doctor would find it. Maybe she could leave it with Torchwood. She thought for a moment, maybe there was somewhere, after all...
That, of course, was the exact moment something exploded in the window, and everything went black.