Witnessing the Protector 5/?
Title: Witnessing the Protector 5/?
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.
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 17, 2011
I'm at the Tower of London and I'm on the run.
Wow, that would sound so cool if it weren't the truth.
Yep, I'm on the run from a Time Lord and still trying to figure out what to do.
So I guess it must have been just before dawn. I couldn't sleep for having another round of nightmares and I found myself longing for my own bed. I decided to speak to the Doctor then and there about this journal, agree on a decision as to its fate, and then he could take me home. It seemed so practical, so straightforward, so easy that I jumped out of bed. Dressing quickly, I set out in search for the Doctor.
The TARDIS is huge. I'm not sure even the Doctor knows how big it is, but I guess that's what happens when your spaceship exists in a relative dimension (don't even ask me to explain that...I'm not sure I even understand how it works). I checked his usual haunts. The control room, the Library, and the kitchen were all empty. I even ventured into the medical bay. Feeling frustrated, I decided to check the other rooms. The Doctor hadn't told me that I couldn't go exploring and I was a little curious as to what wonders the ship held, in spite of my desire to go home. I wandered around down random corridors, opening doors, and calling the Doctor's name. I found a garden (which I wished I'd had more time to explore), a sauna, a room full of pink pillows (don't think I want to know), and an observatory of all things! But no Time Lord.
I felt exhausted and was just about to head back and try to get some more shut-eye, when a black door at the end of the corridor caught my eye. Curious, I sidled up to it. I had the strangest foreboding feeling that I shouldn't touch that door and in retrospect, I really wish I'd heeded my instincts. The door opened at my light touch and I stepped inside.
The room was enormous and domed, bigger than the control room. Tiny portraits covered every inch of the floor and walls, disappearing up into the curved apex of the ceiling high above my head. I stepped over to the closest wall and examined the pictures. They were photographs of people, each tiny portrait about an inch high and framed in gold filigree. Below the pictures were curious circular symbols in silver and I presumed it was some sort of writing.
I stepped back and looked around, spinning in a slow circle to take it all in. Confusion filled me as I pondered the purpose of the room. What was this place?
An altar sat in the middle of the room and I moved closer to examine it. It was about four feet high and six feet long, made of some kind of black stone that reminded me of onyx. There was a strange symbol carved into the top. It looked like an elaborate figure eight or infinity symbol. The surface of the altar was highly polished and I could see my reflection in it as I laid my hands on top, gasping as it was freezing cold.
The weird symbol on the altar.
I snatched my hands away and jumped back in fright as an orange-red planet suddenly appeared in the air above the altar, projected from an unseen source. The world spun slowly and I made out vast continents. Suddenly, words appeared and swirled around the planet. I read them out loud, my voice echoing around the empty chamber. “People of Gallifrey, it was out of necessity that I ended your lives and I will always carry your memories with me. ---The Doctor.”
An icy chill swept down my spine, the cold in my hands from the altar spreading through my body. I took a few more steps back and the image of Gallifrey winked out. Turning in a slow circle again, I regarded the countless pictures. There had to be millions, maybe billions of them. All of them staring. All of them dead. The Doctor had murdered them all.
“Oh my god.” My whisper fluttered quietly around the chamber and suddenly I couldn't stand to be in there anymore. This place was a memorial, a tomb. I started running, my feet taking me back to my room. I burst through door and plopped down onto my bed, breathing hard and shaking from fright. The Doctor had committed genocide.
At the same time, I found it hard to believe that the Doctor was capable of doing such a terrible thing. He was so funny and kind. He'd gone out of his way to take care of me when I was hurt. I had such a good time with him on those little outings when he was so keen to prove to me that he was telling the truth. I'd had the feeling that he'd been nothing but honest with me the whole time. Was he really the kind of person who could kill another living creature?
Then I remembered the dark look that I'd caught in his eyes, the one that disturbed me and a shudder ran down my spine. If it came down to it...yes, I did believe that he could kill and probably had. All I could think was that if he was willing to kill billions of his own kind, what was going to stop him from taking a pathetic little human life? My thoughts turned to Donna. Had she been fortunate escaping with merely with just her memories erased? How many of the Doctor's other companions had died or suffered a horrible fate at his hands? I was overcome with the feeling that my life was in danger and I had to get away from him as fast and as quietly as possible.
I think I was working on autopilot. I stood, shoved my journal into my bag, grabbed my purse, and just started walking. I wanted out of the TARDIS. I just wanted to get away. I passed through the control room, the anxiety rising as I saw it was empty. As I approached the double doors of the TARDIS, I expected to hear the sound of his trainers on the grating, a question shouted after me. But, there was nothing. I stopped in front of the doors and the thought that this was too easy flickered through my brain, but I dismissed it. I'd assumed that he'd taken us back to the park and I saw that I was right, as the greenery of the glade was revealed to my eyes as I opened the door.
I didn't hesitate. I had the good sense to at least close the door as quietly as possible. And then I started running through the darkness. I didn't go to my house because I didn't know how long I had before he'd come after me and I knew he would. My feet carried me out of the park and to the shopping district nearby. My footsteps didn't slow as I looked back at the park.
For a split second, I thought about going back and leaving the journal behind, but he might catch me coming back in and then there'd be questions and I didn't want to face him. I felt unsure of what to do, so I did what the English always seem to do in a time of crisis: I went for a cup of tea.
I've gotten to know the proprietors of the local cafe around the corner from my house fairly well. The lights were blazing even though the sun hadn't risen yet. I slipped inside and headed for a booth in the back corner where I wasn't visible from the street, ordering a cup of tea and a plate of scones from Millie, the waitress. I curled my knees up into my chest after Millie brought my food and closed my eyes. The familiar sound of the BBC on the corner telly, the clinking of cutlery, the smell of bacon frying in grease...all of it was tangible reminders that I was home. This felt so routine, the first sense of normalcy I'd had in days, weeks really.
I should have felt comforted, but I didn't. Anxiety seemed to burn in the pit of my stomach. This was nothing but a momentary lull in a storm that was about to break. I had run away in fear of my life and was petrified that the Doctor would find me. It was only a matter of time. You can't hide from someone who can travel anywhere in time and space.
I sipped my tea with shaking hands and tried to think of what to do, but I knew there wasn't really anything I could do. My thoughts were interrupted when I heard the clatter of a teacup on the table and a familiar voice called out, “Ella! There you are!”
I lifted my head. Oh god, no. Not now. Donna slid into the booth opposite me. She looked worried. “Ella?! Where the hell have you been? I've been bangin' on your door for days now and no answer! All the lights out at night, too! It's like you up and disappeared!”
I swallowed hard. If only she knew the truth. “Donna. Um...yeah, I went to...Stratford on a little trip, but I'm back now.” I was relieved that the journal was hidden in my bag where she couldn't see it and my illustrations of the Doctor and the TARDIS.
“On a sprained ankle?” She sounded dubious and I internally grimaced. I'm a terrible liar.
“It got better really fast. Would you like a scone?” I nudged the plate towards her, hoping it wasn't too obvious that was trying to change the subject.
She glanced down at the plate and bit her lip in indecision. “Supposed to be watching my sugar intake, but why the heck not?” Donna split a scone in half and plopped some clotted cream and strawberry jam on it. I took a deep breath and started asking polite questions about her and Shaun and nursery plans, hoping to keep her distracted long enough that she'd forget my disappearance. Any other time, I would have enjoyed spending time with her. Considering the situation, though, the conversation felt artificial and I was uncomfortable.
Donna finished her scone and then look hard at me. “Somethin's out of place here, love. I can tell. You sure you're all right?”
I forced a smile to my face. “'Course I am! Just a lot of work to catch up on, you know how it is when you've been out. Just...feeling a bit stressed. I'm supposed to be lecturing on Titian soon and haven't even made up the presentation.”
“Sounds fascinating,” she deadpanned and I smiled. “Positive you're ok?”
“Yep!”
“Well...all right.” Donna glanced at her mobile to check the time. “Oh no! I'm supposed to be at Mum's in half an hour to take Gramps to the doctor.” She stood up in a hurry. “I'll be passing by the uni if you want a lift.”
I readily took her up on her offer. A car would put a few more miles between myself and the TARDIS and I saw that as a good thing as I debated what to do. I paid for my scones and tea and followed Donna to her car. The sun had risen and the street lights were beginning to go out. As I waited for her to unlock the car, I glanced over at the park and saw the unmistakable silhouetted figure of a tall, lanky person in a suit and long coat standing in the shadows. My heart sank. It could only be the Doctor.
Donna must have asked me a question and I hadn't answered, but suddenly I heard her asking, “Hello! Earth to Ella! What are you looking at?”
Crap! That was a close call.
I snapped my head around and saw she was following my gaze. Frantic to distract her lest she see the Doctor, I screamed, “Squirrel!” I took a deep breath. “I saw a squirrel and they're so damn cute. I like sketching them. We'd better go or you'll be late.”
She thankfully looked back towards the vehicle, shaking her head with a bemused smile on her face. “You are too strange.” Donna unlocked the car and I climbed in. As Donna drove away, I turned around to look back and, by the flickering of the last street lights as they went off, saw the Doctor step out onto the sidewalk. I couldn't read his expression, but he stared stonily into my eyes as the car turned the corner. He wasn't smiling.
I had to draw this to get it out of my system, but I can barely look at this drawing without wanting to cry. I think I actually got his expression right this time and I'm not sure if he's disappointed or furious. Whatever it is, he's not happy with me.
I sunk down into the seat, feeling sick. Part of me felt like I had made the right decision in running away, but the other part questioned if I hadn't just made a huge mistake. I certainly had violated his trust in me...but did that really matter if my life was in danger, anyway?
Thoughts whirled in my mind as Donna chattered away about baby names and brands of strollers and I answered on auto-pilot. “...And Shaun said the cheapest was fine by him, no need for an expensive pushchair combo, but I said, I said I wanted a Bugaboo...” Donna glanced over at me and I saw her frown a little bit before she shook her head. “What am I nattering on about, eh? You've got no interest in baby gear.”
I snapped out of my reverie. “What? Oh...gosh, I'm sorry, Donna. Bugaboo, yes. I've seen lots of moms in the neighborhood pushing those. They seem to be popular with the urban mommies.”
Donna brightened a bit. “Really? Oh ,good! I'm still trying to figure out that lot we live near. Right snots some of them! I hate to say it, but part me really misses Chiswick.”
I smiled a little bit. Donna and I both felt out-of-sorts in our upper-class neighborhood.
Donna pulled up to the curb at the edge of the university campus and I got out. “I'll stop by later and we can chat about nursery themes since Shaun's absolute rubbish at choosing...anything, really!”
I grinned before thanking her for the ride and waving her off. As I watched the car pull into traffic, I wondered if the old Donna would have given up traveling with the Doctor for a domestic life of mortgages and changing nappies. I couldn't really answer that since I didn't know Donna before she met the Doctor, but I had a suspicion that she wouldn't have. The Doctor had said something about Donna wanting to traveling with him forever.
I shivered in the cold morning air and wished I'd had a heavier coat than just the light denim jacket I wore. Spring is taking a long time to arrive here in England. I looked down at my jacket and frowned. I didn't look professional at all in my jeans and that wouldn't do. I never appeared on campus unless I was dressed nicely. It's a thing with me.
I looked up at my office and realized that'd be one of the first places the Doctor would search for me. I wasn't safe there.
Well...I wasn't safe anywhere, but I certainly wasn't going to make it easy for him to find me now, was I?
“This isn't going to end well, is it?” I mumbled to myself as I shivered again and started for the Tube station. I needed to stay around crowded places and people.
I spent most of the morning wandering around London until I wound up here at the Tower. I reasoned this would be one of the last places the the Doctor would look for me. I'm not sure if he can track me or not. My cell phone's busted, so he can't tap into the satellites and find me that way.
And...that's what brings me to here. I'm sitting in the Tower of London and the sun is going down. The Tower's going to close soon. I used a pay phone earlier and made a reservation at a hotel for the night, but I know I can't do this forever. I can't afford it, for one. Also, I have to be back at work on Monday come hell or high water and it's Wednesday now. I've got just four more days to figure out what to do.
I feel this place is oddly apropos. People used to be sent here just before their deaths and...well...maybe the same is true for me.
God, I can't believe I just wrote that.
Crap. I just want to go out and get drunk and I haven't wanted to do that since grad school. Good thing it's St. Patrick's Day! I'd find a pub and get toasted except I'm already so exhausted from not sleeping and my head and ribs are starting to hurt again. Alcohol would probably just make me feel worse.
Ella, the Emo Princess! But really...this just about sums up how I feel right now.
Has it really only been a week since this nightmare began? No...I guess the nightmare started last month when I was stupid enough to sketch the TARDIS.
I want to go home, just like I have since last week. There's the irony for you. I finally am home, but I can't actually go home, you know?
I didn't want to sketch any of the prison parts of the Tower, so here's the Tudor court where the Yeoman Warders live. It's much happier.
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.
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 17, 2011
I'm at the Tower of London and I'm on the run.
Wow, that would sound so cool if it weren't the truth.
Yep, I'm on the run from a Time Lord and still trying to figure out what to do.
So I guess it must have been just before dawn. I couldn't sleep for having another round of nightmares and I found myself longing for my own bed. I decided to speak to the Doctor then and there about this journal, agree on a decision as to its fate, and then he could take me home. It seemed so practical, so straightforward, so easy that I jumped out of bed. Dressing quickly, I set out in search for the Doctor.
The TARDIS is huge. I'm not sure even the Doctor knows how big it is, but I guess that's what happens when your spaceship exists in a relative dimension (don't even ask me to explain that...I'm not sure I even understand how it works). I checked his usual haunts. The control room, the Library, and the kitchen were all empty. I even ventured into the medical bay. Feeling frustrated, I decided to check the other rooms. The Doctor hadn't told me that I couldn't go exploring and I was a little curious as to what wonders the ship held, in spite of my desire to go home. I wandered around down random corridors, opening doors, and calling the Doctor's name. I found a garden (which I wished I'd had more time to explore), a sauna, a room full of pink pillows (don't think I want to know), and an observatory of all things! But no Time Lord.
I felt exhausted and was just about to head back and try to get some more shut-eye, when a black door at the end of the corridor caught my eye. Curious, I sidled up to it. I had the strangest foreboding feeling that I shouldn't touch that door and in retrospect, I really wish I'd heeded my instincts. The door opened at my light touch and I stepped inside.
The room was enormous and domed, bigger than the control room. Tiny portraits covered every inch of the floor and walls, disappearing up into the curved apex of the ceiling high above my head. I stepped over to the closest wall and examined the pictures. They were photographs of people, each tiny portrait about an inch high and framed in gold filigree. Below the pictures were curious circular symbols in silver and I presumed it was some sort of writing.
I stepped back and looked around, spinning in a slow circle to take it all in. Confusion filled me as I pondered the purpose of the room. What was this place?
An altar sat in the middle of the room and I moved closer to examine it. It was about four feet high and six feet long, made of some kind of black stone that reminded me of onyx. There was a strange symbol carved into the top. It looked like an elaborate figure eight or infinity symbol. The surface of the altar was highly polished and I could see my reflection in it as I laid my hands on top, gasping as it was freezing cold.
The weird symbol on the altar.
I snatched my hands away and jumped back in fright as an orange-red planet suddenly appeared in the air above the altar, projected from an unseen source. The world spun slowly and I made out vast continents. Suddenly, words appeared and swirled around the planet. I read them out loud, my voice echoing around the empty chamber. “People of Gallifrey, it was out of necessity that I ended your lives and I will always carry your memories with me. ---The Doctor.”
An icy chill swept down my spine, the cold in my hands from the altar spreading through my body. I took a few more steps back and the image of Gallifrey winked out. Turning in a slow circle again, I regarded the countless pictures. There had to be millions, maybe billions of them. All of them staring. All of them dead. The Doctor had murdered them all.
“Oh my god.” My whisper fluttered quietly around the chamber and suddenly I couldn't stand to be in there anymore. This place was a memorial, a tomb. I started running, my feet taking me back to my room. I burst through door and plopped down onto my bed, breathing hard and shaking from fright. The Doctor had committed genocide.
At the same time, I found it hard to believe that the Doctor was capable of doing such a terrible thing. He was so funny and kind. He'd gone out of his way to take care of me when I was hurt. I had such a good time with him on those little outings when he was so keen to prove to me that he was telling the truth. I'd had the feeling that he'd been nothing but honest with me the whole time. Was he really the kind of person who could kill another living creature?
Then I remembered the dark look that I'd caught in his eyes, the one that disturbed me and a shudder ran down my spine. If it came down to it...yes, I did believe that he could kill and probably had. All I could think was that if he was willing to kill billions of his own kind, what was going to stop him from taking a pathetic little human life? My thoughts turned to Donna. Had she been fortunate escaping with merely with just her memories erased? How many of the Doctor's other companions had died or suffered a horrible fate at his hands? I was overcome with the feeling that my life was in danger and I had to get away from him as fast and as quietly as possible.
I think I was working on autopilot. I stood, shoved my journal into my bag, grabbed my purse, and just started walking. I wanted out of the TARDIS. I just wanted to get away. I passed through the control room, the anxiety rising as I saw it was empty. As I approached the double doors of the TARDIS, I expected to hear the sound of his trainers on the grating, a question shouted after me. But, there was nothing. I stopped in front of the doors and the thought that this was too easy flickered through my brain, but I dismissed it. I'd assumed that he'd taken us back to the park and I saw that I was right, as the greenery of the glade was revealed to my eyes as I opened the door.
I didn't hesitate. I had the good sense to at least close the door as quietly as possible. And then I started running through the darkness. I didn't go to my house because I didn't know how long I had before he'd come after me and I knew he would. My feet carried me out of the park and to the shopping district nearby. My footsteps didn't slow as I looked back at the park.
For a split second, I thought about going back and leaving the journal behind, but he might catch me coming back in and then there'd be questions and I didn't want to face him. I felt unsure of what to do, so I did what the English always seem to do in a time of crisis: I went for a cup of tea.
I've gotten to know the proprietors of the local cafe around the corner from my house fairly well. The lights were blazing even though the sun hadn't risen yet. I slipped inside and headed for a booth in the back corner where I wasn't visible from the street, ordering a cup of tea and a plate of scones from Millie, the waitress. I curled my knees up into my chest after Millie brought my food and closed my eyes. The familiar sound of the BBC on the corner telly, the clinking of cutlery, the smell of bacon frying in grease...all of it was tangible reminders that I was home. This felt so routine, the first sense of normalcy I'd had in days, weeks really.
I should have felt comforted, but I didn't. Anxiety seemed to burn in the pit of my stomach. This was nothing but a momentary lull in a storm that was about to break. I had run away in fear of my life and was petrified that the Doctor would find me. It was only a matter of time. You can't hide from someone who can travel anywhere in time and space.
I sipped my tea with shaking hands and tried to think of what to do, but I knew there wasn't really anything I could do. My thoughts were interrupted when I heard the clatter of a teacup on the table and a familiar voice called out, “Ella! There you are!”
I lifted my head. Oh god, no. Not now. Donna slid into the booth opposite me. She looked worried. “Ella?! Where the hell have you been? I've been bangin' on your door for days now and no answer! All the lights out at night, too! It's like you up and disappeared!”
I swallowed hard. If only she knew the truth. “Donna. Um...yeah, I went to...Stratford on a little trip, but I'm back now.” I was relieved that the journal was hidden in my bag where she couldn't see it and my illustrations of the Doctor and the TARDIS.
“On a sprained ankle?” She sounded dubious and I internally grimaced. I'm a terrible liar.
“It got better really fast. Would you like a scone?” I nudged the plate towards her, hoping it wasn't too obvious that was trying to change the subject.
She glanced down at the plate and bit her lip in indecision. “Supposed to be watching my sugar intake, but why the heck not?” Donna split a scone in half and plopped some clotted cream and strawberry jam on it. I took a deep breath and started asking polite questions about her and Shaun and nursery plans, hoping to keep her distracted long enough that she'd forget my disappearance. Any other time, I would have enjoyed spending time with her. Considering the situation, though, the conversation felt artificial and I was uncomfortable.
Donna finished her scone and then look hard at me. “Somethin's out of place here, love. I can tell. You sure you're all right?”
I forced a smile to my face. “'Course I am! Just a lot of work to catch up on, you know how it is when you've been out. Just...feeling a bit stressed. I'm supposed to be lecturing on Titian soon and haven't even made up the presentation.”
“Sounds fascinating,” she deadpanned and I smiled. “Positive you're ok?”
“Yep!”
“Well...all right.” Donna glanced at her mobile to check the time. “Oh no! I'm supposed to be at Mum's in half an hour to take Gramps to the doctor.” She stood up in a hurry. “I'll be passing by the uni if you want a lift.”
I readily took her up on her offer. A car would put a few more miles between myself and the TARDIS and I saw that as a good thing as I debated what to do. I paid for my scones and tea and followed Donna to her car. The sun had risen and the street lights were beginning to go out. As I waited for her to unlock the car, I glanced over at the park and saw the unmistakable silhouetted figure of a tall, lanky person in a suit and long coat standing in the shadows. My heart sank. It could only be the Doctor.
Donna must have asked me a question and I hadn't answered, but suddenly I heard her asking, “Hello! Earth to Ella! What are you looking at?”
Crap! That was a close call.
I snapped my head around and saw she was following my gaze. Frantic to distract her lest she see the Doctor, I screamed, “Squirrel!” I took a deep breath. “I saw a squirrel and they're so damn cute. I like sketching them. We'd better go or you'll be late.”
She thankfully looked back towards the vehicle, shaking her head with a bemused smile on her face. “You are too strange.” Donna unlocked the car and I climbed in. As Donna drove away, I turned around to look back and, by the flickering of the last street lights as they went off, saw the Doctor step out onto the sidewalk. I couldn't read his expression, but he stared stonily into my eyes as the car turned the corner. He wasn't smiling.
I had to draw this to get it out of my system, but I can barely look at this drawing without wanting to cry. I think I actually got his expression right this time and I'm not sure if he's disappointed or furious. Whatever it is, he's not happy with me.
I sunk down into the seat, feeling sick. Part of me felt like I had made the right decision in running away, but the other part questioned if I hadn't just made a huge mistake. I certainly had violated his trust in me...but did that really matter if my life was in danger, anyway?
Thoughts whirled in my mind as Donna chattered away about baby names and brands of strollers and I answered on auto-pilot. “...And Shaun said the cheapest was fine by him, no need for an expensive pushchair combo, but I said, I said I wanted a Bugaboo...” Donna glanced over at me and I saw her frown a little bit before she shook her head. “What am I nattering on about, eh? You've got no interest in baby gear.”
I snapped out of my reverie. “What? Oh...gosh, I'm sorry, Donna. Bugaboo, yes. I've seen lots of moms in the neighborhood pushing those. They seem to be popular with the urban mommies.”
Donna brightened a bit. “Really? Oh ,good! I'm still trying to figure out that lot we live near. Right snots some of them! I hate to say it, but part me really misses Chiswick.”
I smiled a little bit. Donna and I both felt out-of-sorts in our upper-class neighborhood.
Donna pulled up to the curb at the edge of the university campus and I got out. “I'll stop by later and we can chat about nursery themes since Shaun's absolute rubbish at choosing...anything, really!”
I grinned before thanking her for the ride and waving her off. As I watched the car pull into traffic, I wondered if the old Donna would have given up traveling with the Doctor for a domestic life of mortgages and changing nappies. I couldn't really answer that since I didn't know Donna before she met the Doctor, but I had a suspicion that she wouldn't have. The Doctor had said something about Donna wanting to traveling with him forever.
I shivered in the cold morning air and wished I'd had a heavier coat than just the light denim jacket I wore. Spring is taking a long time to arrive here in England. I looked down at my jacket and frowned. I didn't look professional at all in my jeans and that wouldn't do. I never appeared on campus unless I was dressed nicely. It's a thing with me.
I looked up at my office and realized that'd be one of the first places the Doctor would search for me. I wasn't safe there.
Well...I wasn't safe anywhere, but I certainly wasn't going to make it easy for him to find me now, was I?
“This isn't going to end well, is it?” I mumbled to myself as I shivered again and started for the Tube station. I needed to stay around crowded places and people.
I spent most of the morning wandering around London until I wound up here at the Tower. I reasoned this would be one of the last places the the Doctor would look for me. I'm not sure if he can track me or not. My cell phone's busted, so he can't tap into the satellites and find me that way.
And...that's what brings me to here. I'm sitting in the Tower of London and the sun is going down. The Tower's going to close soon. I used a pay phone earlier and made a reservation at a hotel for the night, but I know I can't do this forever. I can't afford it, for one. Also, I have to be back at work on Monday come hell or high water and it's Wednesday now. I've got just four more days to figure out what to do.
I feel this place is oddly apropos. People used to be sent here just before their deaths and...well...maybe the same is true for me.
God, I can't believe I just wrote that.
Crap. I just want to go out and get drunk and I haven't wanted to do that since grad school. Good thing it's St. Patrick's Day! I'd find a pub and get toasted except I'm already so exhausted from not sleeping and my head and ribs are starting to hurt again. Alcohol would probably just make me feel worse.
Ella, the Emo Princess! But really...this just about sums up how I feel right now.
Has it really only been a week since this nightmare began? No...I guess the nightmare started last month when I was stupid enough to sketch the TARDIS.
I want to go home, just like I have since last week. There's the irony for you. I finally am home, but I can't actually go home, you know?
I didn't want to sketch any of the prison parts of the Tower, so here's the Tudor court where the Yeoman Warders live. It's much happier.