Chapter Text
INTRODUCTION
Dottore only believes in a few things in life. Basically it's knowledge, science, and himself.
Why?
Because everything isn't trustworthy. Love turns intelligent people to fools, loyalty isn't everlasting, and morality is for the weak people that use it so they can sleep peacefully at night.
So, it's just knowledge, himself, and science.
Science is proven. It's a fact. It can be replicated, controlled, the outcomes are studied and there are factual steps you can see. And one of the facts he knows is that - there are limitations a human body has so when Aether placed down a liquid in a vial and called it a concoction for pregnancy - it's not possible for such soup to work.
“You haven't even tested it yet.“ Aether crossed his arms and rolled his eyes. He placed his large hat on the table and placed his chin on his palm.
“Because I don't need to test nonsense. The topic itself isn't worth discussing.“ Dottore said and removed his gloves and sat across Aether.
“Ugh, I swear you scientists are close-minded people.” Aether said and pushed the vial that has liquid gold in it.
“And you alchemists are stupid.” Dottore retorted with a smirk that earned him an offended look. Good.
“Stupid or you're just afraid it might work?“ Aether said and smirked. He crossed his legs and stared at Dottore, challenging him.
“Fine, you brat. Let's do this experiment so you'll see how much of a fool you are.” Dottore said and uncapped the vial.
“You're going to drink it.” He added.
Aether smiled wide and drank the whole thing.
Dottore should have just chosen murder instead. At least, that's what he'll thought of later.
—
The moment Aether finished the vial's contents, silence settled over the laboratory.
Dottore waited. Nothing happened.
Aether waited. Still nothing happened.
"..."
"..."
Aether stood from his chair.
Then he began pacing.
One end of the room.
Turn.
The other end.
Turn.
Back again.
Dottore watched him for exactly thirty-seven seconds before his patience expired.
"What are you doing?"
Aether didn't stop walking. "Thinking."
"Your thoughts require this much movement?"
"Some people think better while pacing."
"Some people are idiots."
Aether pointed at him accusingly. "See? That's exactly why nobody likes scientists."
Dottore leaned back in his chair. "And yet you came to one."
"Unfortunately."
The pacing continued. Dottore rubbed his temple. The sound of Aether's footsteps was rapidly becoming a form of psychological warfare.
Finally, Aether stopped.
"Oh."
Dottore immediately regretted that tone.
"Oh?" he repeated.
Aether snapped his fingers. "I forgot something important."
The scientist stared. Aether stared back.
Then—
"Do you even know how this works?"
Dottore blinked. "...What?"
Aether crossed his arms. "The experiment."
"The experiment."
"Yes."
"The one you created."
"Correct."
"The one you insisted would work."
"Exactly."
Dottore narrowed his eyes. "And somehow you've reached the conclusion that I don't understand it?"
"No." Aether paused. "I'm asking if you know how sex works."
The laboratory became very quiet. For several seconds, Dottore simply looked at him. Not angry, not confused. Just deeply, profoundly disappointed.
It was the sort of look one reserved for discovering mold inside expensive equipment.
"Aether."
"Yes?"
"Are you serious?"
Aether shrugged. "You spend all your time reading books."
"I am a researcher."
"You spend all your time in laboratories."
"That is my profession."
"You voluntarily read academic papers." Dottore's eye twitched.
"Of course I know how it works."
"Oh." Aether grinned. "Good for you."
Dottore suddenly felt an overwhelming urge to throw him out a window.
Aether, blissfully unaware, looked around the room.
"Now then."
"No."
"Where are we doing this?"
Dottore gestured around them. "The laboratory."
Aether stared. Dottore stared back.
"The laboratory," he repeated. "The place where experiments are conducted."
Aether continued staring. "You're joking."
"I am not."
"You want to use your lab."
"Yes."
Aether looked around at the metal tables, scattered notes, unfinished projects, and suspiciously humming machinery.
Then he looked back at Dottore.
"Absolutely not."
Dottore frowned.
"Why?"
"Because this place looks like it violates at least seventeen safety regulations."
"There are no safety regulations."
"Exactly!”
The scientist opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. Unfortunately, Aether had a point. A terrible point, but still a point.
Aether grabbed his hat from the table and placed it on his head. "We're rescheduling."
"What?"
"Tomorrow night."
"You can't simply reschedule an experiment because you dislike the room."
"I absolutely can."
"You are impossible."
"You'll still participate."
Dottore glared while Aether smiled sweetly. The expression immediately increased Dottore's irritation by twenty percent.
"Tomorrow night," Aether repeated. "Not here."
"You are the single most frustrating person I have ever met."
"I get that a lot."
"I believe it."
With that, Aether headed toward the exit.
Halfway through the doorway, he paused.
"Oh, and Dottore?"
"What."
"If this works, I expect a formal apology."
"It won't."
"We'll see."
The door shut behind him. Silence returned to the laboratory. Dottore stared at the empty vial sitting on his desk. Then at the closed door. Then back at the vial.
The entire premise was absurd.
Scientifically impossible.
A complete waste of his time.
And yet...
For the first time since the experiment began, a small part of him wondered.
What if the idiot was right?
The door had barely stopped rattling from Aether's dramatic exit when another knock echoed through the laboratory.
Unlike Aether's knocks—which sounded more like announcements of impending disaster—this one was calm.
Or rather.... a knock that's like she doesn't care if you'd let her enter or not.
"Enter."
The door swung open and Sandrone stepped inside. She immediately noticed the empty vial sitting on Dottore's desk. Then, she noticed Dottore staring at it. Then, she noticed the expression on his face.
"...What happened?"
Dottore looked up. "Aether happened."
Sandrone sighed. "You know, that answers nothing."
"Nope. It answers everything."
She walked over and dropped herself into the chair Aether had occupied moments earlier. "Speaking of him, I just saw him leaving. He looked unusually pleased with himself."
"That's because he believes he's won."
“Oh? Won what?"
Dottore pinched the bridge of his nose. Against his better judgment, he explained every single detail. The argument, that impossible alchemical concoction. The impossible claim. The challenge. The wager. The absurd confidence Aether possessed despite having absolutely no scientific evidence.
Sandrone listened quietly. For about thirty seconds. Then a minute. Then two. By the end of the explanation, her shoulders were shaking.
Dottore narrowed his eyes. "...Don't start."
Sandrone failed immediately. A laugh burst out of her. Then another. And another. Soon she was bent forward in her chair, laughing so hard she could barely breathe.
"Oh, this is incredible."
"It is not."
"It absolutely is."
"It is a waste of time."
Sandrone pointed at him. "No, no. What's incredible is that somehow the two of you managed to create the dumbest scientific challenge in history."
"It is not a scientific challenge."
"Exactly."
She laughed again. "The fact that both of you thought this was a reasonable use of your time is astonishing."
Dottore crossed his arms. "Aether challenged me."
"And you accepted."
"He insulted science."
"You could have ignored him."
"He was wrong."
Sandrone stared and Dottore stared back. The silence lasted several seconds.
Then she groaned dramatically. "You are literally proving my point."
"I am not."
"You are."
"No."
"Yes." Sandrone leaned back in her chair. "The two of you are frighteningly alike."
Dottore looked offended. "I am nothing like him."
"You absolutely are."
"I possess common sense."
"You accepted the challenge."
Dottore immediately hated that argument because it was difficult to refute.
Sandrone smirked. "See?"
The scientist refused to answer. Because unfortunately, she was making a concerning amount of sense.
He can still remember how it started.
Aether had arrived carrying a stack of notes detailing an alchemical formula he'd been developing.
Dottore had taken one look at it and called it impossible.
Aether had called him narrow-minded.
Dottore had called him delusional.
Aether had called scientists arrogant.
Dottore had called alchemists glorified gamblers.
One insult became five.
Five became twenty.
Until eventually Aether had slammed his notes onto the table and declared: "Fine. Let's make a bet."
Dottore should have walked away.
Instead, he'd asked what the terms were.
Aether's grin should have been warning enough.
If the concoction failed, Aether would publicly admit that Dottore was right and stop bringing the formula to scientific discussions.
If it succeeded—
Dottore would be forced to acknowledge that alchemy possessed possibilities science had yet to fully explain.
A statement that physically hurt him to imagine saying.
Naturally, he'd accepted.
Because neither of them possessed survival instincts when pride was involved.
Sandrone had tears in her eyes by the time the story ended. "Unbelievable."
"It's perfectly logical."
"No, it's not."
A voice suddenly spoke from the doorway.
"I agree."
Both scientists turned.
Columbina stood there.
No one knew exactly how long she'd been listening.
Which was always mildly concerning.
She stepped inside with her usual quiet smile.
"I heard laughter."
Sandrone immediately pointed at Dottore.
"This idiot accepted Aether's challenge."
Columbina blinked.
"What challenge?"
Sandrone eagerly explained.
Every detail.
Every terrible decision.
Every step that had somehow led them here.
By the time she finished, Columbina was silent.
Very silent.
The room remained quiet.
Dottore waited.
Sandrone waited.
Columbina continued staring into the distance as though attempting to process information beyond mortal comprehension.
"...Well?" Sandrone asked.
Columbina tilted her head. "I don't know what to think."
"Exactly!" Sandrone exclaimed.
"On one hand," Columbina continued thoughtfully, "the premise sounds absurd."
Dottore nodded. "Correct."
"On the other hand..." She glanced toward the empty vial. "Aether usually doesn't make claims unless he genuinely believes them."
Dottore's eye twitched..Sandrone immediately noticed and grinned. "Oh, that's right."
"No."
"Oh, that's absolutely right."
"No."
"You're worried."
"I am not."
Sandrone looked at Columbina. "He's worried."
"I am not worried."
Columbina smiled. "You've been staring at the vial since I arrived."
Dottore glanced at the vial. Then immediately regretted it. Because both women caught him.
Sandrone burst into laughter again. The sound echoed through the laboratory.
Meanwhile, for the first time since accepting the challenge, Dottore found himself considering a possibility he hated.
Not that Aether was right.
That was impossible.
Completely impossible.
Scientifically impossible.
But somehow...
The confidence in Aether's eyes when he drank the concoction lingered in his memory.
And that was infinitely more irritating than the potion itself.