Witnessing the Protector 6/7
Title: Witnessing the Protector 6/7
Author: Hezikiah
Disclaimer: Not mine, it's theirs. *points in the direction of the UK*
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Donna, Shaun, Ten, OC Dr. Ella Porter
Warnings: No warnings. Well, this story has to do with Ten being a creepy stalker, but it all turns out ok. Not as dark as it seems.
Summary: When Donna and Shaun's neighbor notices a strange man hanging around outside their house, her world begins to turn upside down...
Author's note: This story is written in the style of an epistolary story. I've wanted to try my hand at applying this style to fanfiction and this seemed perfect. Just for giggles, I threw in some crappy rendered sketches since the character is an artist and it makes it seem more like an actual journal and sketchbook. I wanted to try something a little different this go around.
A/N 2: This video was a partial inspiration for what Ella's going through both physically and emotionally in this chapter, especially the exterior shots of the actress (on the run from the Doctor) and the part where she collapses to the floor sobbing.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter 7
Selected entries from the personal journal and sketchbook of Dr. Ella Porter, Professor of Art History and amateur artist.
March 18, 2011
I am a walking nervous wreck. I think I got about two hours of fitful sleep last night and it had nothing to do with nightmares, for once. It's the anxiety over not knowing what's going to happen to me that's preventing me from getting any rest. I'm constantly on edge, have thrown up...I don't know how many times. I jump at every tiny sound. I don't think I can go on like this for much longer.
Obviously, no sign of the Doctor today. What's he up to? Is he playing some kind of twisted game with me or does he honestly not know where I am? I think not knowing what's going to happen or when he's going to come for me is the worst part of all of this.
I just want it to be over. I could just go home or even seek him out, but I feel like that would be walking into the lion's den covered in raw meat. I'm not going to my death willingly. That is, if I'm doing to die at all. Maybe I'm blowing this way out of proportion, I just don't know.
And I still can't help but wonder about his other companions. How did he find them? What's happened to them? Donna just randomly appeared on his ship and refused to travel with him, but then she sought him out later on. Why? Was her life really that dull? Why does he not have one now? He kept delaying letting me leave the TARDIS and he had legitimate reasons for it, but was he going to ask me to take Donna's place? I'm not trying to flatter myself or anything, but I can't help but wonder if there was something else motivating him. What if his intentions for keeping me there were more sinister? What if I had said “no” and he hadn't accepted it? He might have prevented me from leaving, holding me prisoner (despite his repeated assurances that I was free to go). And that part of me is glad that I fled when I did...
And yet another part of me, a small part, wonders if I really am in any danger and if all of this is in my head, that there must be a good reason for the memorial, something that I just don't know about. I can't forget his kindness and concern for me. Part of me feels guilty for what I've done, but it's only a tiny part. I can't allow myself to feel bad for betraying his trust when I don't know if his intentions for me were ultimately good or bad.
Again, it's the unknown that's driving me crazy.
And I'm way too tired to draw today. I can barely form coherent thoughts, let alone sketch. They'd come out looking like Salvador Dali's paintings on LSD.
I feel terrible right now. I'm going to spend another night here in the hotel, but I'm going to have to go home tomorrow. I can't afford to stay away any longer.
March 19, 2011
Nothing again today so far. It's late afternoon and I'm sitting in Hyde Park and trying not to fall asleep on my feet. I really really need to sleep, but I've been too scared to go back to my house. Just the thought fills me with dread, but I have to. I can't keep doing this to myself.
What's he going to do to me?
I haven't kept much down lately and it's from stress. I'm shaking from exhaustion and probably low blood sugar, like a chihuahua in Antarctica.
It's getting dark and I should head home.
I'm sure Donna's wondered what's happened to me and there's going to be questions. I'll have to think up another cover story, but I'm too tired to try for one right now.
March 20, 2011
I got home last night a little after seven. It felt strange to be back home after my unexpected vacation. The house was so still and quiet that it unnerved me and made me jumpy. My image in the bathroom mirror was terrible. The dark circles had returned under my eyes, my skin looked sallow, and I'd definitely lost some weight. I guess not being able to eat or sleep much will do that to you.
The stress of having a Time Lord after me had finally taken its toll. I was starting to get very sick and I collapsed, right after I managed to eat about half a tin of soup. Eating actually made me feel worse, of all things. My whole body hurt and I decided to just go to bed and try to sleep. I changed into my favorite comfy jammies (the red ones with the white polka dots) and went downstairs to shut off the lights. I was just dragging myself up the stairs to my room, hoping that dinner wouldn't come back up, when my knees turned to jelly. My legs folded underneath me and I sat down hard. Fortunately, it happened when I'd reached the first landing. I don't want to think about what would have happened if I'd collapsed on the stairs themselves.
“Well, this is just peachy!” I grumbled as I struggled to get back to my feet, but all of my strength had left me. I couldn't get up. “Fine, ok, you stupid body. We'll just hang out right here, then.” I settled back against the wall, leaning my aching head against it. I just didn't care anymore.
I sat there for probably two or three hours. I tried getting up a few times, but to no avail. I had no way to call for help because my mobile is busted and I haven't replaced it yet. In the middle of the night, I heard a faint familiar grinding and wheezing noise that only got louder. I was filled with dread as I realized what it was. It was the sound of the TARDIS, coming from downstairs.
I tried again to struggle to my feet and managed to get into a crouching position, but I didn't have the strength to push myself to standing and I couldn't reach the railing to pull myself up. I trembled all over and landed on my butt with a loud thump in the corner of the landing.
There was a creaking noise as the door of the TARDIS opened. A moment later, I saw the tall, shadowy figure of the Doctor appear at the bottom of the stairs. There was a dim light coming through the front window from the street lights outside, which backlit him in the foyer and he looked really sinister standing there. Again, I tried to stand, but couldn't do it and I watched in growing dread as he mounted the first step.
The soft, slow thud of his trainers on the stairs caused all of the anxiety to come rushing back and I instinctively curled myself up into a tiny ball. The Doctor reached the landing and stopped in front of me. His long coat flapped open as he crouched down. “Ella?” I was surprised that he didn't sound angry because I expected him to be furious with me.
I didn't answer him, though. I couldn't seem to find my voice.
He put a hand on my shoulder. I started in fright when he touched me and jerked backwards, my self-preservation instinct kicking in. His voice was quiet and he sounded bewildered. “Why are you on the stairs?”
I still didn't answer, but I knew it was all over and I lifted my head to look at him. Sort of a “stare into the face of your enemy” moment, I guess.
Faint light came from a window high above our heads, but he pulled the penlight out of his pocket and trained the beam on me. I squeezed my eyes shut in the sudden brightness and turned my head away. “You look awful. What's happened? You were so much better.” I shook my head, not knowing what to say to him. “Come on, let's get you off this cold landing.” He'd mistaken my trembling for being cold (even though the heater was on) instead of from being afraid. “Can you walk?”
I didn't answer. Go away go away go away was all that was going through my head. “Ok, then. I'll take that as a no.” His hands slid under my knees and shoulders and the Doctor lifted me up. I thought about lashing out, but my thoughts flashed back to the first time I'd woken up on the TARDIS and I knew fighting would be futile (not that I had the energy to, anyway). I expected him to go upstairs, but he turned and started down the steps.
The TARDIS was parked in the middle of the living room and he passed right by the sofa, where I thought he might have been heading. The door to the ship was open and my eyes grew round in fright. I squirmed around in agitation. “No! I don't want to go back.”
“I gathered as much, but I don't think you have much of a choice right now.” His words made me shiver as he stepped across the threshold. “I came to find out why you ran away. What I didn't expect was to find you practically passed out on the stairs. You need help and that takes precedence right now over your feelings and my questions.”
I was desperate to be anywhere but back in the TARDIS. “I don't need to come here, I can rest in my house...” I started to argue, but he cut me off.
“No, you can't. Something's made you ill since you ran off the other day, which doesn't make any sense because you were almost back to normal. I'm going to find out what's making you sick.”
I could tell him the reason was from anxiety and lack of sleep, but that meant telling him what I'd seen and I wasn't about to do that. I had no idea how he'd react if he knew that I had found out about the murders. I decided to play along until I could figure out how to get out of there again. I told myself to stay calm. He couldn't find out what I knew unless I told him, right?
The Doctor carried me down the corridor and into the medical bay. I wasn't at all happy to be back there and I think that was pretty obvious when I squeezed my eyes shut in trepidation and mumbled, “Not again. Please not again.”
He set me down on the same bed I'd occupied before, the one that was furthest from the door. He shoved his hands into his pockets, smirked a bit, and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Yep, here we are again. A bit of deja vu, don't you think? At least you're conscious this time, eh?”
I knew he was trying to bring some levity to the situation, to make me smile, but it wasn't working. I lapsed into silence, opened my eyes, and looked away. There was a long, uncomfortable pause and the Doctor's voice took on a quiet tone again. “You're upset with me, Ella. Why?”
I took a deep breath and shook my head again.
“You don't want to tell me?” I heard a cabinet open behind me and sensed him moving around.
I shook my head “no.”
“Blimey...must have been a whopper, whatever I did.” Well, that was true. I'm pretty sure genocide qualifies as a “whopper.” He came around the bed to face me and I visibly tensed in his presence. He noticed it and frowned in confusion. “You should lie down.”
“I don't want to,” I murmured, refusing to look at him.
He shrugged. “Suit yourself, but I can see how exhausted you are.” He held out his hand and wiggled his fingers. “Give me your arm.”
I didn't budge. “Why?”
The Doctor held up a small device about the same size and shape of a credit card. “Just a blood test. Don't worry, it won't hurt a bit. I want to make sure there's nothing in your system that's making you sick. I didn't run a test before, so I could have missed something that might not be related to the accident.”
Was he thinking I had cancer or something? I really didn't want to be poked and prodded, especially when I already felt awful and I knew exactly what had caused me to collapse. But, I had decided to play along, so I reluctantly held my arm out. He grasped it and held the device briefly against my forearm. There was a beeping sound. The Doctor let go of my arm, slid the card-like device into a computer on one of the counters, and pressed a button. “That's going to take a few minutes to run an analysis,” he told me as he came back over. I flinched when he tilted my chin up. His hands hovered over my neck for a moment in hesitation, but he then started prodding my lymph nodes. “Not swollen, so probably not an infection.”
He fished around in his pocket and pulled out, of all things, a stethoscope. I almost laughed out loud. All of that futuristic diagnostic equipment at his disposal and he chose to use something as conventional as a stethoscope.
Guilt welled up inside me because I knew he was worried and that seemed completely out-of-character for someone who might want to kill me. I still couldn't get over the niggling feeling that maybe I had been wrong about him. I felt bad because all I had to do was tell him, but not knowing whether I was right or wrong prevented me from doing so. I felt a wave of anxiety and fear, feeling trapped, just as the Doctor stuck the earpieces into his ears and pressed the diaphragm of the stethoscope against my pajama top to listen to my heart. His head snapped up and he stared wide-eyed at me, looking surprised and concerned at the same time.
“Your heart's racing, Ella, faster than it should be.” He moved the diaphragm to my back and I shut my eyes, feeling like I was going to start crying. “And your breathing is rapid and shallow.” He pulled the stethoscope off to rest around his neck, then laid his hand on my shoulder and I jerked, letting out a small cry. I immediately started shaking again, bringing my knees up to my chest in a protective gesture. The Doctor pulled his hand away and took a step back as I pressed the heels of my palms into my eyes to try to staunch the tears. I had to stay calm, but I was finding it very difficult when I was so frightened and unsure of everything.
The Doctor finally begins to realize what's going on.
“It's me, isn't it?” I could hear the sadness and bewilderment in his voice. I remembered he didn't like it when I was scared of him before. “You weren't like this until I started examining you. You're having an anxiety attack. I can only guess that I'm the cause, for some reason.”
I nodded before I could stop myself. Just then, the machine on the counter beeped and he stepped over to it, never taking his eyes off of me. He read the results and sighed. “Your epinephrine, norepinephrine, and cortisol levels are off the charts, like they've been building up. Those are the hormones associated with fear and anxiety. You've been like this for days, haven't you?”
I nodded again. He scratched behind one ear in thought. “And with all those hormones continually running through your system, you haven't been able to sleep or eat. You're physiologically almost incapable of it at this point. That would explain the moderate dehydration and your low blood glucose level as well. No wonder you're so ill. A state of constant fear and stress would do that to you.”
This may seem surprising, but I was relieved that he'd figured it out and I didn't have to tell him. He pulled his brown overcoat off and dropped it onto a chair before coming back over to me, pinching the bridge of his nose in thought.
“Ok.” I could hear the careful tone in his voice. “So, you need to be calm to get those hormone levels back down so you can get some fluids and sleep. I have the feeling that you're not going to let me help you because you're scared of me, for some reason, which causes you have anxiety attacks, which raises your hormone levels and keeps you from resting and eating properly. That's a nasty little circle.” He crossed his arms and leaned a hip against the bed, trying to catch my eyes. “So we'll have to break that circle. Ella, I know you don't want to tell me, but I need to know what's caused this. Whatever I did frightened you to the point that you ran away and broke my trust, which I know you wouldn't have done except for extreme circumstances. I can't make you better unless I understand what was so catastrophic that it made you flee. Please, tell me.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, seeing the faces of those billions of his people in my head. I didn't know how to put that into words, to tell him what I'd seen. I knew I had to, but the words just wouldn't come. How do you tell a murderer that you know what he's done and you've seen the faces of his victims? A quiet sob came out of my throat and I shook my head. I wasn't trying to be stubborn or reticent at this point. I honestly couldn't find the words.
I heard him sigh in resignation. “All right. I understand that it's hard for you to tell me, so there's a way I can find out that doesn't involve using words.”
What did he mean? I got my answer when I felt his fingers lightly press into my temples and that earned him an instant reaction from me. My eyes flew open as I yelped “No!” and panicked, trying to simultaneously bolt off the bed and wrench my head out from his grasp. "No! Don't, Doctor!"
He responded by swiftly stepping closer and his fingers tightened. He gazed into my tear-filled eyes as I struggled underneath his powerful hands and he murmured, “I'm so sorry to have to do this." I opened my mouth to scream and he continued, " Sssh, Ella. Sssh. Hush now. This won't hurt a bit.” The Doctor's voice took on a calm, hypnotic tone, the one I remembered hearing the day I'd woken up in the medical bay. I was absolutely terrified, but something suddenly blocked out the fear. It's hard to explain. I still felt afraid, but it's like the fear didn't seem to matter anymore. My mind went into a sort of trance and my eyes half-closed and my breathing slowed. “Oh, there we go. That's it. Just relax. There's no reason to be frightened.”
A sense of dazed calmness came over me. All of the muscles in my body went slack and the Doctor guided me to lay back on the bed. I blinked once, a small part of my mind very aware of what was happening and was screaming in rage and terror, but for the most part I just didn't seem to care anymore.
His eyes closed and I suddenly felt his presence inside my mind, looking into my thoughts.
This is what a Time Lord looks like when he's picking through your brain. Yikes.
Having him inside my head was bizarre and frightening. I whimpered at the unfamiliar feeling of having a second party to my thoughts. “It's all right. I'm only having a look at what frightened you, what could have compelled you to run off. Show me what scared you.” A memory of the memorial to Gallifrey popped up. “Oh! You saw...oh, I see now.” The whole scene replayed in my mind and he realized that I knew what he'd done, that I was scared of him and what he was going to do to me.
He took a deep breath. “Oh, Ella. No wonder you ran away from me. I hardly blame you for thinking I'd hurt you after doing...what I did. You were so scared and worried that it made you sick. I am so sorry." He paused and added, "You don't understand why I destroyed Gallifrey, though.”
The forced tranquility helped me to find my voice. “All those people!”
“I know...maybe it's better if I just show you.”
Horrific images suddenly filled my mind, pictures that I didn't really understand. I saw an alien city on an orange-red planet burning and I somehow understood it was on Gallifrey, a city called Arcadia. There were weird metal creatures with domed heads and strange eyestalks called Daleks. All I could understand was that I was seeing a terrible war, a war that has never been rivaled on earth. I unwillingly let out a sob at the images of death and destruction. “What you're seeing is the Time War. It was the worst war that ever was and ever will be. It was fought between my people and the Daleks. The Time War would have destroyed the universe, including this planet. I wasn't about to let that happen, so I chose to annihilate my own people rather than let their war continue.”
I felt a great sense of loneliness and I realized it wasn't mine. It was the Doctor's. “You're the only one left?”
“It's the price I paid.” I didn't miss the pain in his voice. “I've regretted it every day of my life. Do you understand why I did it?”
I swallowed once. “I think so.”
I opened my eyes and we stared at each other for a long moment. “I've taken lives, Ella, but only when I had no other choice. I can't ever atone for what I've done to Gallifrey, but as the last of the Time Lords, I have a responsibility and a legacy to uphold. You aren't in any danger, believe me.”
I knew he was telling me the truth. “But what about your companions? What's happened to them? Why don't they stay?”
His shoulders heaved in a silent sigh. “They all go. Sometimes they leave because they have to, they move on. Very rarely, they die. What happened to Donna was unfortunate and regrettable, but there wasn't anything I could do to stop it. If my people had still been alive, maybe...but without them, there was only one option to ensure her survival and that was to erase her memories.”
His fingers were still on my temples and I wondered if he was about to do the same to me. My brow furrowed in worry as he read my thought and shook his head, pulling his hands away. “No. I promised you I wouldn't and I'm not going to break that promise.”
I struggled to sit up, feeling so tired and just done, but I couldn't. I was too weak. Part of me was still miffed at him for going into my mind, but I also blamed myself. I knew he'd only done it because I hadn't been able to tell him verbally and it was important for him to understand why I'd fled .
There was one thing that was bothering me, though. “Why didn't you come after me sooner?”
“Because I've spent the last two days shadowing my best friend, taking a huge risk that she'd see me.” The Doctor caught my worried look and added, “Donna is fine. Though, I think she's wondering where her neighbor's gone again. I don't know what you said to her, but I know now that it wasn't anything to harm her. That confirms my instincts about you, that you'd never deliberately hurt her and you'd try to protect her. I knew where you were the whole time, though, and I kept tabs on your locations. The ship's scanners can track you.” He smirked a little. “The Tower of London was a smart choice. I tried to come after you the first day, but the Tower is TARDIS proof thanks to UNIT. Also, I figured you needed a little breathing space.”
I didn't know what UNIT was and I didn't think I wanted to know. “I'm sorry.”
“It's ok. I understand why you did it and I don't blame you for being frightened.”
“So...this is over? I mean...really over now?” Part of me still couldn't believe that he was just going to let me walk away, especially after I'd violated his trust in me. I looked up at him.
He crossed his arms and his left eyebrow quirked up. “Not quite. There's still the matter of the journal.”
I took a deep breath. “I really don't want to destroy it, but I think I have an idea. It's the one I've been trying to tell you about for the last few days before things spiraled out of control. When I moved to England, I had to leave most of my belongings in storage in Santa Barbara. I have a combination safe with all my important papers there. What if I tore out the pages in the journal pertaining to Donna and you took me there in the TARDIS and I locked them away? I'm the only one who knows the combination. The journal will be on the other side of the world from Donna, locked in a safe, which is locked in a storage facility. Would that be acceptable?”
The Doctor contemplated my proposal. “You swear you're the only one who knows the combination?”
“I swear. Not even my parents know it.”
“And you know that if Donna's mind burns and she dies, you're the first person I'll come to looking for answers, other than her family?”
I swallowed, understanding that he was giving me a warning. “Yes.”
“Then I suppose that would be acceptable.” The Doctor paused in thought. "Also, I'd like for you to watch out for Donna. I can't be here all the time to keep an eye on her, and since she married Shaun, there hasn't been anyone I could trust to protect her. I'm appointing you as her guardian in my stead, to keep her safe from the metacrisis and from remembering me. I trust that you'll take good care of my best friend." He put his hands on my shoulders, smiling when I didn't flinch away this time. “Now, we need to get you rehydrated and you need to sleep. We'll take care of the journal when you wake up.” The Doctor gave my shoulders a brief squeeze and moved off to rummage through the cabinets.
I didn't want to stay there, but I was also so tired that I didn't care much and the prospect of sleeping negated any protests I might have made. I managed to roll over onto my right side and closed my eyes, taking deep breaths. It was a bizarre feeling. I was exhausted, but was so hyped up on the adrenaline in my system that I was wide awake. Everything was going to be ok. I knew that, but my body was slow in catching up.
The Doctor came back over and picked up my left arm. He poked around just below my wrist for a second and I opened my eyes just in time to see him press a white disk about the size of a fifty pence piece into my skin, where it stuck fast. It prickled a little, but didn't hurt. There were two ports at the top of the disk and he attached tubes to them, which led up to two plastic bags he'd suspended from a hook in the ceiling. There was a cold rush as the infusions hit my bloodstream. I've never had an IV before and I was glad that the Doctor's futuristic version wasn't painful. “Little bit of saline, little bit of dextrose and vitamins should sort you out. There's a soporific in there was well, but not as strong as the last stuff I gave you. You should drop off in a minute or two.”
“So I won't wake up pickled this time?”
He busted into laughter. “No.” He tugged the blanket over me.
“Thanks,” I murmured. “And again, I'm sorry.”
“It's all right. I'm just glad that Donna's ok and that I found you in time, though I wish it hadn't happened this way.”
“Me too.”
I felt sleepy all of a sudden and yawned as my eyelids drooped. The world started to go grey and the Doctor patted my left hand. “I'll fetch your journal so you can finish writing about this when you've rested. Every story needs to have an ending.”
“'Kay, thanks.” I yawned again and slipped into blessed unconsciousness.
When I woke up several hours later, there were blue socks with happy dancing bananas on my feet.
The Doctor drew this after I woke up and called it “Resolution.” I think he took to heart my comment that he'd made me look better than I was the last time he drew me. I still think he's flattering me, but at least he got the bags under my eyes right this time.
Author: Hezikiah
Disclaimer: Not mine, it's theirs. *points in the direction of the UK*
Rating: PG
Characters/Pairings: Donna, Shaun, Ten, OC Dr. Ella Porter
Warnings: No warnings. Well, this story has to do with Ten being a creepy stalker, but it all turns out ok. Not as dark as it seems.
Summary: When Donna and Shaun's neighbor notices a strange man hanging around outside their house, her world begins to turn upside down...
Author's note: This story is written in the style of an epistolary story. I've wanted to try my hand at applying this style to fanfiction and this seemed perfect. Just for giggles, I threw in some crappy rendered sketches since the character is an artist and it makes it seem more like an actual journal and sketchbook. I wanted to try something a little different this go around.
A/N 2: This video was a partial inspiration for what Ella's going through both physically and emotionally in this chapter, especially the exterior shots of the actress (on the run from the Doctor) and the part where she collapses to the floor sobbing.
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter 7
Selected entries from the personal journal and sketchbook of Dr. Ella Porter, Professor of Art History and amateur artist.
March 18, 2011
I am a walking nervous wreck. I think I got about two hours of fitful sleep last night and it had nothing to do with nightmares, for once. It's the anxiety over not knowing what's going to happen to me that's preventing me from getting any rest. I'm constantly on edge, have thrown up...I don't know how many times. I jump at every tiny sound. I don't think I can go on like this for much longer.
Obviously, no sign of the Doctor today. What's he up to? Is he playing some kind of twisted game with me or does he honestly not know where I am? I think not knowing what's going to happen or when he's going to come for me is the worst part of all of this.
I just want it to be over. I could just go home or even seek him out, but I feel like that would be walking into the lion's den covered in raw meat. I'm not going to my death willingly. That is, if I'm doing to die at all. Maybe I'm blowing this way out of proportion, I just don't know.
And I still can't help but wonder about his other companions. How did he find them? What's happened to them? Donna just randomly appeared on his ship and refused to travel with him, but then she sought him out later on. Why? Was her life really that dull? Why does he not have one now? He kept delaying letting me leave the TARDIS and he had legitimate reasons for it, but was he going to ask me to take Donna's place? I'm not trying to flatter myself or anything, but I can't help but wonder if there was something else motivating him. What if his intentions for keeping me there were more sinister? What if I had said “no” and he hadn't accepted it? He might have prevented me from leaving, holding me prisoner (despite his repeated assurances that I was free to go). And that part of me is glad that I fled when I did...
And yet another part of me, a small part, wonders if I really am in any danger and if all of this is in my head, that there must be a good reason for the memorial, something that I just don't know about. I can't forget his kindness and concern for me. Part of me feels guilty for what I've done, but it's only a tiny part. I can't allow myself to feel bad for betraying his trust when I don't know if his intentions for me were ultimately good or bad.
Again, it's the unknown that's driving me crazy.
And I'm way too tired to draw today. I can barely form coherent thoughts, let alone sketch. They'd come out looking like Salvador Dali's paintings on LSD.
I feel terrible right now. I'm going to spend another night here in the hotel, but I'm going to have to go home tomorrow. I can't afford to stay away any longer.
March 19, 2011
Nothing again today so far. It's late afternoon and I'm sitting in Hyde Park and trying not to fall asleep on my feet. I really really need to sleep, but I've been too scared to go back to my house. Just the thought fills me with dread, but I have to. I can't keep doing this to myself.
What's he going to do to me?
I haven't kept much down lately and it's from stress. I'm shaking from exhaustion and probably low blood sugar, like a chihuahua in Antarctica.
It's getting dark and I should head home.
I'm sure Donna's wondered what's happened to me and there's going to be questions. I'll have to think up another cover story, but I'm too tired to try for one right now.
March 20, 2011
I got home last night a little after seven. It felt strange to be back home after my unexpected vacation. The house was so still and quiet that it unnerved me and made me jumpy. My image in the bathroom mirror was terrible. The dark circles had returned under my eyes, my skin looked sallow, and I'd definitely lost some weight. I guess not being able to eat or sleep much will do that to you.
The stress of having a Time Lord after me had finally taken its toll. I was starting to get very sick and I collapsed, right after I managed to eat about half a tin of soup. Eating actually made me feel worse, of all things. My whole body hurt and I decided to just go to bed and try to sleep. I changed into my favorite comfy jammies (the red ones with the white polka dots) and went downstairs to shut off the lights. I was just dragging myself up the stairs to my room, hoping that dinner wouldn't come back up, when my knees turned to jelly. My legs folded underneath me and I sat down hard. Fortunately, it happened when I'd reached the first landing. I don't want to think about what would have happened if I'd collapsed on the stairs themselves.
“Well, this is just peachy!” I grumbled as I struggled to get back to my feet, but all of my strength had left me. I couldn't get up. “Fine, ok, you stupid body. We'll just hang out right here, then.” I settled back against the wall, leaning my aching head against it. I just didn't care anymore.
I sat there for probably two or three hours. I tried getting up a few times, but to no avail. I had no way to call for help because my mobile is busted and I haven't replaced it yet. In the middle of the night, I heard a faint familiar grinding and wheezing noise that only got louder. I was filled with dread as I realized what it was. It was the sound of the TARDIS, coming from downstairs.
I tried again to struggle to my feet and managed to get into a crouching position, but I didn't have the strength to push myself to standing and I couldn't reach the railing to pull myself up. I trembled all over and landed on my butt with a loud thump in the corner of the landing.
There was a creaking noise as the door of the TARDIS opened. A moment later, I saw the tall, shadowy figure of the Doctor appear at the bottom of the stairs. There was a dim light coming through the front window from the street lights outside, which backlit him in the foyer and he looked really sinister standing there. Again, I tried to stand, but couldn't do it and I watched in growing dread as he mounted the first step.
The soft, slow thud of his trainers on the stairs caused all of the anxiety to come rushing back and I instinctively curled myself up into a tiny ball. The Doctor reached the landing and stopped in front of me. His long coat flapped open as he crouched down. “Ella?” I was surprised that he didn't sound angry because I expected him to be furious with me.
I didn't answer him, though. I couldn't seem to find my voice.
He put a hand on my shoulder. I started in fright when he touched me and jerked backwards, my self-preservation instinct kicking in. His voice was quiet and he sounded bewildered. “Why are you on the stairs?”
I still didn't answer, but I knew it was all over and I lifted my head to look at him. Sort of a “stare into the face of your enemy” moment, I guess.
Faint light came from a window high above our heads, but he pulled the penlight out of his pocket and trained the beam on me. I squeezed my eyes shut in the sudden brightness and turned my head away. “You look awful. What's happened? You were so much better.” I shook my head, not knowing what to say to him. “Come on, let's get you off this cold landing.” He'd mistaken my trembling for being cold (even though the heater was on) instead of from being afraid. “Can you walk?”
I didn't answer. Go away go away go away was all that was going through my head. “Ok, then. I'll take that as a no.” His hands slid under my knees and shoulders and the Doctor lifted me up. I thought about lashing out, but my thoughts flashed back to the first time I'd woken up on the TARDIS and I knew fighting would be futile (not that I had the energy to, anyway). I expected him to go upstairs, but he turned and started down the steps.
The TARDIS was parked in the middle of the living room and he passed right by the sofa, where I thought he might have been heading. The door to the ship was open and my eyes grew round in fright. I squirmed around in agitation. “No! I don't want to go back.”
“I gathered as much, but I don't think you have much of a choice right now.” His words made me shiver as he stepped across the threshold. “I came to find out why you ran away. What I didn't expect was to find you practically passed out on the stairs. You need help and that takes precedence right now over your feelings and my questions.”
I was desperate to be anywhere but back in the TARDIS. “I don't need to come here, I can rest in my house...” I started to argue, but he cut me off.
“No, you can't. Something's made you ill since you ran off the other day, which doesn't make any sense because you were almost back to normal. I'm going to find out what's making you sick.”
I could tell him the reason was from anxiety and lack of sleep, but that meant telling him what I'd seen and I wasn't about to do that. I had no idea how he'd react if he knew that I had found out about the murders. I decided to play along until I could figure out how to get out of there again. I told myself to stay calm. He couldn't find out what I knew unless I told him, right?
The Doctor carried me down the corridor and into the medical bay. I wasn't at all happy to be back there and I think that was pretty obvious when I squeezed my eyes shut in trepidation and mumbled, “Not again. Please not again.”
He set me down on the same bed I'd occupied before, the one that was furthest from the door. He shoved his hands into his pockets, smirked a bit, and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Yep, here we are again. A bit of deja vu, don't you think? At least you're conscious this time, eh?”
I knew he was trying to bring some levity to the situation, to make me smile, but it wasn't working. I lapsed into silence, opened my eyes, and looked away. There was a long, uncomfortable pause and the Doctor's voice took on a quiet tone again. “You're upset with me, Ella. Why?”
I took a deep breath and shook my head again.
“You don't want to tell me?” I heard a cabinet open behind me and sensed him moving around.
I shook my head “no.”
“Blimey...must have been a whopper, whatever I did.” Well, that was true. I'm pretty sure genocide qualifies as a “whopper.” He came around the bed to face me and I visibly tensed in his presence. He noticed it and frowned in confusion. “You should lie down.”
“I don't want to,” I murmured, refusing to look at him.
He shrugged. “Suit yourself, but I can see how exhausted you are.” He held out his hand and wiggled his fingers. “Give me your arm.”
I didn't budge. “Why?”
The Doctor held up a small device about the same size and shape of a credit card. “Just a blood test. Don't worry, it won't hurt a bit. I want to make sure there's nothing in your system that's making you sick. I didn't run a test before, so I could have missed something that might not be related to the accident.”
Was he thinking I had cancer or something? I really didn't want to be poked and prodded, especially when I already felt awful and I knew exactly what had caused me to collapse. But, I had decided to play along, so I reluctantly held my arm out. He grasped it and held the device briefly against my forearm. There was a beeping sound. The Doctor let go of my arm, slid the card-like device into a computer on one of the counters, and pressed a button. “That's going to take a few minutes to run an analysis,” he told me as he came back over. I flinched when he tilted my chin up. His hands hovered over my neck for a moment in hesitation, but he then started prodding my lymph nodes. “Not swollen, so probably not an infection.”
He fished around in his pocket and pulled out, of all things, a stethoscope. I almost laughed out loud. All of that futuristic diagnostic equipment at his disposal and he chose to use something as conventional as a stethoscope.
Guilt welled up inside me because I knew he was worried and that seemed completely out-of-character for someone who might want to kill me. I still couldn't get over the niggling feeling that maybe I had been wrong about him. I felt bad because all I had to do was tell him, but not knowing whether I was right or wrong prevented me from doing so. I felt a wave of anxiety and fear, feeling trapped, just as the Doctor stuck the earpieces into his ears and pressed the diaphragm of the stethoscope against my pajama top to listen to my heart. His head snapped up and he stared wide-eyed at me, looking surprised and concerned at the same time.
“Your heart's racing, Ella, faster than it should be.” He moved the diaphragm to my back and I shut my eyes, feeling like I was going to start crying. “And your breathing is rapid and shallow.” He pulled the stethoscope off to rest around his neck, then laid his hand on my shoulder and I jerked, letting out a small cry. I immediately started shaking again, bringing my knees up to my chest in a protective gesture. The Doctor pulled his hand away and took a step back as I pressed the heels of my palms into my eyes to try to staunch the tears. I had to stay calm, but I was finding it very difficult when I was so frightened and unsure of everything.
The Doctor finally begins to realize what's going on.
“It's me, isn't it?” I could hear the sadness and bewilderment in his voice. I remembered he didn't like it when I was scared of him before. “You weren't like this until I started examining you. You're having an anxiety attack. I can only guess that I'm the cause, for some reason.”
I nodded before I could stop myself. Just then, the machine on the counter beeped and he stepped over to it, never taking his eyes off of me. He read the results and sighed. “Your epinephrine, norepinephrine, and cortisol levels are off the charts, like they've been building up. Those are the hormones associated with fear and anxiety. You've been like this for days, haven't you?”
I nodded again. He scratched behind one ear in thought. “And with all those hormones continually running through your system, you haven't been able to sleep or eat. You're physiologically almost incapable of it at this point. That would explain the moderate dehydration and your low blood glucose level as well. No wonder you're so ill. A state of constant fear and stress would do that to you.”
This may seem surprising, but I was relieved that he'd figured it out and I didn't have to tell him. He pulled his brown overcoat off and dropped it onto a chair before coming back over to me, pinching the bridge of his nose in thought.
“Ok.” I could hear the careful tone in his voice. “So, you need to be calm to get those hormone levels back down so you can get some fluids and sleep. I have the feeling that you're not going to let me help you because you're scared of me, for some reason, which causes you have anxiety attacks, which raises your hormone levels and keeps you from resting and eating properly. That's a nasty little circle.” He crossed his arms and leaned a hip against the bed, trying to catch my eyes. “So we'll have to break that circle. Ella, I know you don't want to tell me, but I need to know what's caused this. Whatever I did frightened you to the point that you ran away and broke my trust, which I know you wouldn't have done except for extreme circumstances. I can't make you better unless I understand what was so catastrophic that it made you flee. Please, tell me.”
I squeezed my eyes shut, seeing the faces of those billions of his people in my head. I didn't know how to put that into words, to tell him what I'd seen. I knew I had to, but the words just wouldn't come. How do you tell a murderer that you know what he's done and you've seen the faces of his victims? A quiet sob came out of my throat and I shook my head. I wasn't trying to be stubborn or reticent at this point. I honestly couldn't find the words.
I heard him sigh in resignation. “All right. I understand that it's hard for you to tell me, so there's a way I can find out that doesn't involve using words.”
What did he mean? I got my answer when I felt his fingers lightly press into my temples and that earned him an instant reaction from me. My eyes flew open as I yelped “No!” and panicked, trying to simultaneously bolt off the bed and wrench my head out from his grasp. "No! Don't, Doctor!"
He responded by swiftly stepping closer and his fingers tightened. He gazed into my tear-filled eyes as I struggled underneath his powerful hands and he murmured, “I'm so sorry to have to do this." I opened my mouth to scream and he continued, " Sssh, Ella. Sssh. Hush now. This won't hurt a bit.” The Doctor's voice took on a calm, hypnotic tone, the one I remembered hearing the day I'd woken up in the medical bay. I was absolutely terrified, but something suddenly blocked out the fear. It's hard to explain. I still felt afraid, but it's like the fear didn't seem to matter anymore. My mind went into a sort of trance and my eyes half-closed and my breathing slowed. “Oh, there we go. That's it. Just relax. There's no reason to be frightened.”
A sense of dazed calmness came over me. All of the muscles in my body went slack and the Doctor guided me to lay back on the bed. I blinked once, a small part of my mind very aware of what was happening and was screaming in rage and terror, but for the most part I just didn't seem to care anymore.
His eyes closed and I suddenly felt his presence inside my mind, looking into my thoughts.
This is what a Time Lord looks like when he's picking through your brain. Yikes.
Having him inside my head was bizarre and frightening. I whimpered at the unfamiliar feeling of having a second party to my thoughts. “It's all right. I'm only having a look at what frightened you, what could have compelled you to run off. Show me what scared you.” A memory of the memorial to Gallifrey popped up. “Oh! You saw...oh, I see now.” The whole scene replayed in my mind and he realized that I knew what he'd done, that I was scared of him and what he was going to do to me.
He took a deep breath. “Oh, Ella. No wonder you ran away from me. I hardly blame you for thinking I'd hurt you after doing...what I did. You were so scared and worried that it made you sick. I am so sorry." He paused and added, "You don't understand why I destroyed Gallifrey, though.”
The forced tranquility helped me to find my voice. “All those people!”
“I know...maybe it's better if I just show you.”
Horrific images suddenly filled my mind, pictures that I didn't really understand. I saw an alien city on an orange-red planet burning and I somehow understood it was on Gallifrey, a city called Arcadia. There were weird metal creatures with domed heads and strange eyestalks called Daleks. All I could understand was that I was seeing a terrible war, a war that has never been rivaled on earth. I unwillingly let out a sob at the images of death and destruction. “What you're seeing is the Time War. It was the worst war that ever was and ever will be. It was fought between my people and the Daleks. The Time War would have destroyed the universe, including this planet. I wasn't about to let that happen, so I chose to annihilate my own people rather than let their war continue.”
I felt a great sense of loneliness and I realized it wasn't mine. It was the Doctor's. “You're the only one left?”
“It's the price I paid.” I didn't miss the pain in his voice. “I've regretted it every day of my life. Do you understand why I did it?”
I swallowed once. “I think so.”
I opened my eyes and we stared at each other for a long moment. “I've taken lives, Ella, but only when I had no other choice. I can't ever atone for what I've done to Gallifrey, but as the last of the Time Lords, I have a responsibility and a legacy to uphold. You aren't in any danger, believe me.”
I knew he was telling me the truth. “But what about your companions? What's happened to them? Why don't they stay?”
His shoulders heaved in a silent sigh. “They all go. Sometimes they leave because they have to, they move on. Very rarely, they die. What happened to Donna was unfortunate and regrettable, but there wasn't anything I could do to stop it. If my people had still been alive, maybe...but without them, there was only one option to ensure her survival and that was to erase her memories.”
His fingers were still on my temples and I wondered if he was about to do the same to me. My brow furrowed in worry as he read my thought and shook his head, pulling his hands away. “No. I promised you I wouldn't and I'm not going to break that promise.”
I struggled to sit up, feeling so tired and just done, but I couldn't. I was too weak. Part of me was still miffed at him for going into my mind, but I also blamed myself. I knew he'd only done it because I hadn't been able to tell him verbally and it was important for him to understand why I'd fled .
There was one thing that was bothering me, though. “Why didn't you come after me sooner?”
“Because I've spent the last two days shadowing my best friend, taking a huge risk that she'd see me.” The Doctor caught my worried look and added, “Donna is fine. Though, I think she's wondering where her neighbor's gone again. I don't know what you said to her, but I know now that it wasn't anything to harm her. That confirms my instincts about you, that you'd never deliberately hurt her and you'd try to protect her. I knew where you were the whole time, though, and I kept tabs on your locations. The ship's scanners can track you.” He smirked a little. “The Tower of London was a smart choice. I tried to come after you the first day, but the Tower is TARDIS proof thanks to UNIT. Also, I figured you needed a little breathing space.”
I didn't know what UNIT was and I didn't think I wanted to know. “I'm sorry.”
“It's ok. I understand why you did it and I don't blame you for being frightened.”
“So...this is over? I mean...really over now?” Part of me still couldn't believe that he was just going to let me walk away, especially after I'd violated his trust in me. I looked up at him.
He crossed his arms and his left eyebrow quirked up. “Not quite. There's still the matter of the journal.”
I took a deep breath. “I really don't want to destroy it, but I think I have an idea. It's the one I've been trying to tell you about for the last few days before things spiraled out of control. When I moved to England, I had to leave most of my belongings in storage in Santa Barbara. I have a combination safe with all my important papers there. What if I tore out the pages in the journal pertaining to Donna and you took me there in the TARDIS and I locked them away? I'm the only one who knows the combination. The journal will be on the other side of the world from Donna, locked in a safe, which is locked in a storage facility. Would that be acceptable?”
The Doctor contemplated my proposal. “You swear you're the only one who knows the combination?”
“I swear. Not even my parents know it.”
“And you know that if Donna's mind burns and she dies, you're the first person I'll come to looking for answers, other than her family?”
I swallowed, understanding that he was giving me a warning. “Yes.”
“Then I suppose that would be acceptable.” The Doctor paused in thought. "Also, I'd like for you to watch out for Donna. I can't be here all the time to keep an eye on her, and since she married Shaun, there hasn't been anyone I could trust to protect her. I'm appointing you as her guardian in my stead, to keep her safe from the metacrisis and from remembering me. I trust that you'll take good care of my best friend." He put his hands on my shoulders, smiling when I didn't flinch away this time. “Now, we need to get you rehydrated and you need to sleep. We'll take care of the journal when you wake up.” The Doctor gave my shoulders a brief squeeze and moved off to rummage through the cabinets.
I didn't want to stay there, but I was also so tired that I didn't care much and the prospect of sleeping negated any protests I might have made. I managed to roll over onto my right side and closed my eyes, taking deep breaths. It was a bizarre feeling. I was exhausted, but was so hyped up on the adrenaline in my system that I was wide awake. Everything was going to be ok. I knew that, but my body was slow in catching up.
The Doctor came back over and picked up my left arm. He poked around just below my wrist for a second and I opened my eyes just in time to see him press a white disk about the size of a fifty pence piece into my skin, where it stuck fast. It prickled a little, but didn't hurt. There were two ports at the top of the disk and he attached tubes to them, which led up to two plastic bags he'd suspended from a hook in the ceiling. There was a cold rush as the infusions hit my bloodstream. I've never had an IV before and I was glad that the Doctor's futuristic version wasn't painful. “Little bit of saline, little bit of dextrose and vitamins should sort you out. There's a soporific in there was well, but not as strong as the last stuff I gave you. You should drop off in a minute or two.”
“So I won't wake up pickled this time?”
He busted into laughter. “No.” He tugged the blanket over me.
“Thanks,” I murmured. “And again, I'm sorry.”
“It's all right. I'm just glad that Donna's ok and that I found you in time, though I wish it hadn't happened this way.”
“Me too.”
I felt sleepy all of a sudden and yawned as my eyelids drooped. The world started to go grey and the Doctor patted my left hand. “I'll fetch your journal so you can finish writing about this when you've rested. Every story needs to have an ending.”
“'Kay, thanks.” I yawned again and slipped into blessed unconsciousness.
When I woke up several hours later, there were blue socks with happy dancing bananas on my feet.
The Doctor drew this after I woke up and called it “Resolution.” I think he took to heart my comment that he'd made me look better than I was the last time he drew me. I still think he's flattering me, but at least he got the bags under my eyes right this time.