I'm attempting to write longer chapters with this, if you've read any of my other stuff, you'll see I don't write much in one go. Because of this I'll be working of chapters for longer, so I won't upload to often. I also won't upload often at the moment because of exams, and the fact that I've got 4 writhing projects on the go because I keep getting new ideas.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy this :-)
I don't own Doctor Who.
I grew up dreaming of the Doctor. As long as I can remember my mother told me stories of him and the time she travelled with him. I loved those stories. They were all I dreamed about, while young girls were dreaming of fairies, I was dreaming of aliens, while teenage girls dreamed of boys, I dreamed of the Doctor. I filled notebooks with every story my mother told, all lining the shelves of my room as precious memories of my dreams.
As I got older I started to research, to look for more stories. I found others who had known the Doctor and spent many an hour on stranger's sofas filling more notebooks. My room was filled with drawings done by the occasional kind stranger and my own copies of those creatures. Those strangers became my greatest friends.
I learnt everything I could about the world beyond earth. I learnt lists of creatures weaknesses, everything that made them dangerous and any other information I had. They walked through my mind regularly, even the ones that no longer existed out of it. Every penny I owned went towards journeys to listen and books that mentioned the Doctor, I even saved up enough for Amelia and Rory Williams's memoirs of their time with the Doctor.
Apart from past travellers, I had few friends. My obsessive focus on the Doctor pushed most people away. He was all I thought about and most people didn't care about space and creatures they thought were imaginary. I didn't mind though, 50% of my time was spent thinking about him, and the other 50% was spent reading and rereading the stories and talking about him. I was never really alone, he was there, inside my head.
As much as I dreamed of him, I didn't want the Doctor to hear of my research. I didn't want him seeing me as some sort of threat, and I didn't want him to take me with him because of who I knew. When I was little, I believed he would come for me, but I believed it less as I grew older, I was no one special, why should he come for me? My mum always told me I would travel with him, she told me that for him, she had travelled after I had, but I stopped believing this as I grew up.
I wished it were true though.