A/N: HI. I've fallen back into the deep dark pit of my Doctor Who obsession. I haven't been this obsessed with it for like four years now. ANyway, this chapter took me literally a month to write and it hasn't been proofread AT aLL so beware
Also, just a general TRIGGER WARNING: our original character is a bit of a mess, and anything that involves, self-harm, anxiety, several phobias, and more, might become triggering throughout the story. Please stay safe, and thank you for reading!
(also if winnie has a different last name from halstead LOL LET ME KNOW)
Winnie's neck aches as she begins to drift back into consciousness. It takes her several moments to register what the hell is going on. Several moments. Opening her eyes seems too difficult a task at the moment, even as a rush of memories begin to pound at her brain. Remembering her current state, Winnie recognizes the sharp sensation of asphalt digging into her back of her body. She then registers that it's not just her neck that aches— it's everything. The odd girl struggles against the turmoil in her mind, a deep, interpersonal battle taking place in the deepest pits of her brain that she can't quite comprehend. She forces herself to remember how she found herself limp against the asphalt in a New York alleyway, but she simply can't. Instead, she can hear distant voices— in her head— and as much as she wants to open her eyes, the familiar ache in the center of her forehead warns her that she won't be seeing New York once she does. Against the ache's best wishes, Winnie pries her eyelids open to the impending vision. The image consumes her entire being, almost as if she's there with the two familiar strangers bickering in front of a circular counsel. There are sparks blasting out from the odd looking machinery, tufts of smoking sweeping through the atmosphere as the Man in the Pinstripe Suit (not to be confused with the Man in the Yellow Hat) (that's a Curious George reference for anyone who has been living under a rock for the past century) sprints around like a madman, pushing levers and pounding the console with a hammer. The Blonde Girl holds tightly onto the surrounding rail, her comments about whatever seemingly dangerous situation the pair found themselves in muffled and fuzzy. There are times when visions are extremely clear with hardly anything to hear, while there are others to which the term 'vision' wouldn't even apply.
The sight finally comes to a halt, leaving Winnie to realize she's gasping desperately for air that's significantly more difficult to find than usual. God, did everything ache with such ferocity. The dizzy girl can feel herself slipping again, the pain unreasonably unbearable. She usually has an extremely high pain tolerance, so it made no sense that a few bruises and cuts would practically kill her. Against all her weak protests, the girl settled back out of consciousness, but this time the vision took over like a dream—an extremely vivid one. When Winnie had dreams of visions, she could hear and see almost perfectly. It was still a bit fuzzy, but all dreams are.
"What is it doing?!" The Blonde Girl exclaims, tumbling and grasping for the rails as the entire room jerks to the opposite side.
"She's taking us somewhere without my permission!" The Man (in the Pinstripe Suit) yells back, tapping aggressively on a computer-like monitor. "It's almost as if she's been taken hostage." He adds, his brain visibly slowing down to land on one conclusion.
"You mean it's taken us hostage?" Blonde Girl asks, yelping as a spark shoots her way, just barely missing her.
"No, it looks like she's not even in control of where we're headed." The Man's brow furrows with both perplexity and worry. Was the traveling duo about to be kidnapped? Surely they were headed for danger. All they ever did was head for danger. Winnie saw it firsthand. . . secondhand. . . in all her visions and dreams since she began to get them. She followed this man through a multitude of varying faces, but she always seemed to see this version of him most often. The Man in the Pinstripe Suit was much more familiar than the Man in the Leather Jacket or the Man in the Bowtie or even the Man with that Scarf. And the girl with him— the Blonde Girl— was much more familiar too. She was beautiful— the type of girl that would never even dare to be friends with Winnie. But she was so smart, almost nothing like those types of girls.
Finally, there's a significant crash, sending the pair to the grated floor. Winnie begins to feel herself waking up again, hearing an odd wheezing sound that she'd never really heard before. And she's heard a lot of sounds before. Her eyelids are too heavy to pry open again, and it feels as if someone dropped a planet on top of her to keep her supine. Distant voices replace the wheezing sound, and footsteps that follow seem to grow louder and louder. The voices— even the footsteps— are so achingly, horrifyingly familiar that it makes Winnie's heart race. She can't bring herself to wake up, though. And what she would give to be witnessing the two most familiar strangers in the universe walk by her! But they don't walk by her, do they? They'd never! The first thing they even noticed after landing was the limp body of a girl plastered across the pavement. The footsteps grow rapid and louder until they come to a stop. Winnie screams at herself to sit up and open her eyes, but she can't until she feels two warm— but not uncomfortably, disgustingly, ickily warm—fingers upon the pulse from her neck. The bruised girl shoots up to a sitting position, sucking in a breath as her eyes finally open to the real world. But it isn't the real world. It can't be! It's the Man in the Pinstripe Suit and the Blonde Girl!
"Whoa, yeah, alive all right." The Man says, pulling his fingers back quickly and examining Winnie.
"What the hell?" Winnie mumbles, breathing heavily as her eyes rock back and forth between the Girl and the Man. The Man and his impossibly familiar blue-lit device begins buzzing in front of her. Sonic Screwdriver, her brain tells her. His eyes narrow, giving the screwdriver an odd wack before clicking the button and holding it in front of Winnie again. "Who- who are you people?" She asks. But—oh god— does she know who these people are!
"I'm Rose," Rose. Of course. What a beautiful name that fits her so well. "And this is—"
"The Doctor." Winnie finds herself answering before she can process it. Stupid brain! Why would you do that? Now they're going to get all suspicious and these are probably the most important people ever and you can't let them be suspicious, oh god— The Man immediately straightens up and shifts his stare from the screwdriver to Winnie. His narrowed eyes nearly grow hostile from his shock.
"You know him?" Asks Rose, and although Winnie isn't meant to notice it— and maybe Rose doesn't either— the Blonde Girl shifts her sitting position from her knees to crouching on the soles of her feet. She's preparing to run away. She thinks Winnie is dangerous. Oh, god, Winnie can't be considered dangerous! Not to these two, of all people!
"I- I just knew his name—well, title- or- well— I don't- Uh- You see—"
"How'd you know that?" He asks, subconsciously leaning closer in order to scrutinize her more clearly.
"Is it all that shocking? Think of the places you've gone to!" Rose says, but her mouth is definitely dry with a confused fear welling in her throat.
"Yeah, but I'm not all that known on Earth, am I?" He asks (rhetorically), and his suspicious eyes won't leave Winnie's terrified face.
"I just- know. I've always just known things." Winnie explains, a little frustrated and horrified by how close the two strangers are getting.
"Like what?" He asks, eyeing Rose for a moment and then turning back to Winnie.
"Almost everything. But that's not your business." She finds herself saying, crossing her arms over her aching ribs and wincing.
"Oh, I have a feeling that this is very much our business. What's the square root of five thousand six hundred and sixty three?"
"About seventy-five and twenty-five hundredths." She responds rapidly. She can't even process the question, her brain and mouth just says.
"What's Rose's cellphone number?"
"+44 7673 895374."
"Oh my god." Rose mumbles, wide-eyed and matching Winnie's terrified expression.
"What color socks am I wearing right now?"
Without removing her gaze from the Doctor, she answers with a bit of an uncomfortable look, "you aren't wearing socks." He laughs, both with excitement at her genius and at her grimace. "Are you a psychopath? Who doesn't wear socks with sneakers?"
"You aren't wearing socks?" Rose asks, almost betrayed.
"The TARDIS was definitely brought here because of you." The Doctor says, rising to his feet. "So I suppose I should run some tests. Mind coming with us?"
No, Winnie wouldn't mind. However, she was in abnormally excruciating pain and didn't feel like being probed at the moment. Oh. Is this what she always feared? Some science-y dude coming along and studying her brain? Maybe she shouldn't go. She finds herself answering, "No," anyway (you know, like a dumbass).
"Perfect!" He exclaims, jogging over to the blue box— the TARDIS— that wasn't as far away as Winnie had imagined. He unlocks the doors, and Rose makes the decision to help the odd girl up herself. Winnie smiles in thanks, but winces at the ache in her head upon contact with Rose. The vision takes awhile to kick in, but it's short and sweet. Well, sort of. It's more seeing the girl's entire life in a matter of seconds and attempting to comprehend at least a smidge of it before moving on and storing the rest of the information somewhere in the parts of her brain that she only accesses when she doesn't even mean to. Seeing inside her head makes Winnie toss a glance at the Doctor ahead, an odd ache welling in her heart that she couldn't quite name. But Winnie knows Rose's future was a part of that vision and she's doing her best to push away, away, away before she can even see a little bit of it. She all but stumbles inside the box alongside Rose, and a sentence pops into her brain. It isn't her own words and she actually doesn't blurt it out as soon as it's there. In fact, she's glad she didn't, because the lanky alien is staring at her from the console rather expectantly. Winnie lays a hand on the rail, and there's so many rooms that she can't actually see all of it— which is a total first for her.
"You have a swimming pool?" She asks in complete awe. The Doctor frowns and Rose smirks.
"That's it?" He asks, rather disappointed. "No other comment?"
"Thought it would get annoying for you." Winnie mutters, clearing her throat and taking in a gasping, dramatic breath. "It's bigger on the inside! Satisfied? Good because I'm mere seconds from dropping dead, thank you very much." She announces, taking hold of her ribs and bending over as those funny little black spots skip around her line of sight. (That's one way to say there's stars in her eyes.)
"Oh, right. Sickbay, follow me." The alien directs, taking a quick stride towards the bruised girl and grasping her upper arm in order to guide her. Winnie doesn't want to notice it (but she accidentally notices just about everything), but her pain almost completely subsides as soon as his hand reaches her arm. She recalls sitting up earlier. That was after he went to check her pulse. Oh, heck no. There is no way this weirdo-alien-man-paper-thin-jumpy thing has some sort of ability to just heal her by touch.
She isn't the only one that notices his touch pretty much healed everything. The Doctor stops walking, eyes narrowing on her face and nose, where blood and bruises had just been splayed hardly moments ago. He jumps away a bit, and so does Winnie.
"How did you do that?!" He asks, eyes wide as he searches his own hands. So unlike him. She thought he knew pretty much everything.
"Me? How did you do that?!" She replies, eyes just as wide and mouth just as gaped. (Maybe more. Because She's pretty sure there is no match for the constant nervous screeching taking place inside her head.)
Something flickers in the strange man's eyes, and he swallows hard. "I need to run some tests." He announces, heading into the room. It looks a bit like an alien version of a doctor's office. The bed thingy, the chair you sit in to take blood— pretty much everything all in one room. It's a lot smaller than Winnie had expected. "Have a seat." He says, nudging her towards the blood-taking chair (if you want to call it that.)
Winnie knows she shouldn't try and get a vision of him. A small voice in her head tells her it's going to hurt like hell if she does. But what if he tries to, like, dissect her or something? So she finds herself grabbing his wrist. She jumps right into the vision, the pain like a sledgehammer taken against the center of her forehead. It's so fast. So, so fast. But so, so, so much at once. A lot. She's seeing everything. A bunch of different faces flash through her mind— one of them being the man whose wrist she just idiotically grabbed. After that is everything he's ever seen. Everything he's done. Everything he's ever felt. Everyone he's ever known. Literally everything about him— and holy crap it hurts like hell. The worst emotion of them all that seems to be the most he's felt for quite a while is the agonizing pain thats comes from loss. It's almost all loss and Winnie feels as if her body is being ripped apart limb by limb and she can't do anything but watch an entire species die right before her eyes and it's all happening within a matter of seconds and she has no choice but to comprehend it all because she's never been more present in a vision in her life and it's nine hundred years of absolute torture and-
Winnie gasps for air, her head throbbing and her heart pounding in her ears. Her vision returns, and she realizes she's on the floor, cradling her head as wet, hot tears soak her cheeks. She doesn't remember starting to cry. To be honest, she's not sure she can remember anything at the moment. She slips herself back into reality as best she can, noticing how quiet everything seemed to be compared to the screams that took place in her vision. She finally notices the person crouched down to her level, face to face with her as he peers into her eyes with a look that can only be described as sheer terror.
"You're a Seer." He pretty much mumbles, breath intake quickening as he begins to remember something.
"I'm a what now?" Winnie asks, still catching her breath. He doesn't answer. Instead, he essentially yanks Winnie from the ground and plops her onto the chair, brows furrowed in very deep thought (with a hint of panic. Just a hint.) Winnie's still so dazed that she barely even notices that he's taking her blood, and he's examining its results before she even blinks.
"So- uh- last of the Time Lords, huh?" She asks awkwardly, wondering if the silence was as uncomfortable as she thought it was. No reply. Yeah, definitely as uncomfortable. "Listen, I'm so sorry for—"
"No need to apologize. It's over with. Now, what is a Seer doing on Earth?" He slides on a pair of dark glasses and squints at the computer screen before typing and squinting again. "Oh, interesting. Very interesting, actually— Who are your parents?"
"Well, I was adopted, so- Oh, wow, of course." Winnie slaps her palm to her forehead. Of course.
"Half human, half Seer. Your biological mother must've had a bit of an affair with an alien and out of that came you." He explains, definitely not telling her how much more there is to all of this situation.
"But that doesn't make sense. I haven't gotten visions all my life! And who the hell are the Seers? And why don't I know? I know pretty much everything!"
"Seers. Alien race from the planet Clairvoynia. They have extraordinary intuition and omniscience and also have to ability to see the past, present, and future through visions. The fact that half of you is human probably answers your question as to why you haven't gotten visions for your entire life, and as for—"
"But I didn't start getting visions until I got a corneal ulcer when I was fifteen." Winnie interrupts, but there's no use in arguing. It all makes sense. "I always thought it was some weird symptom. Everyone I told just thought I was like John Nash or something. Crossed the line from genius to insanity."
"Ah, yes, genius. The intuition certainly makes you one."
"Hey, don't try putting my genius down, I probably know more than you!" Winnie retorts, crossing her arms, but quickly hardening to a more serious tone. "So why did everything heal when you touched me? And what took the TARDIS hostage to bring you guys to me?"
"Ah, yes, that." He says awkwardly, moving to scratch his neck and slide his free hand into his suit pocket. "The alien that your mother had the affair with— his name is Horace. The ruler of Clairvoynia's name also happens to be Horace—"
"So, I'm the princess? Awesome! But what does that have to do with—"
"Stop cutting me off, I'll just do it right back to you." He scolds. "You're a princess. There's hundreds- maybe thousands- of Horace's children, all from different planets, but he'd never done Earth before, but I suppose that makes a bit of sense because—" The Doctor cuts himself off for a moment, choking a little on his words and managing to make himself ten times more awkward. "See, uh, twenty three-ish years ago, your linear timeline, I saved Clairvoynia from mass destruction. As a reward, Horace promised his next daughter to me. I told him that was unnecessary, but I suppose with the way marriage works over there that I didn't really have a say because, well- The Seers have this- uh- thing called Connection— with a capital C— that is built into two people. It's a lot like an arranged marriage only two people are physically, emotionally, and mentally Connected and so—"
"Yeah, stop right there, Telephone Pole, I think I'm going to pass out." No honestly, what the hell? Is that why she's been seeing him for all those years? Oh, dear god, that's just messy. "Sorry, I don't know about you, but I cannot get married to a nine hundred year old space alien who changes his face every time he starts to die! Actually, I can't get married to anyone! Because I don't want to! So, there!" Ah, the lovely sensation of panic. "No offense, by the way, it's just—"
"Trust me, I don't want to be a part of this engagement any more than you do." He tells Winnie, just as Rose pops through the door.
"Engagement to what?" She asks curiously, sticking her thumbs in the pockets of her jeans and rocking on the soles of her sneakers. Winnie can't help but shiver at the style of fashion. Then again, the fashion in her time will probably seem just as hideous in the coming years.
"Oh! Rose, lovely of you to join us! We have just decided on our next destination." He declares, grabbing both girls by the wrists and dragging them back to the console room.
"Where to?" She asks, a glint of anticipation twinkling in her eyes.
"Clairvoynia! We have an engagement to call off!" He exclaims, flicking tons of switches and tugging on various levers so quickly that Winnie couldn't keep up if she tried. "Your name's Winter, correct?"
"Uh, yeah. I prefer Winnie, though. Like the pooh bear."
The Doctor frowns as the TARDIS begins to tremble. "But Winter is such a lovely name."
"But getting called Blizzard for most of your academic career is not so lovely."
"Whose engagement are we calling off?" Rose butts in, leaning towards the Doctor with raised eyebrows.
The brief sentence 'She's bothered' pops up in Winnie's head, just barely escaping her lips without her permission. No, duh, she's bothered. Winnie thinks. She's totally in love with the Doctor and he's not including her in everything that's happening— or about to happen.
"Winnie's." He says a little too quickly. "Well, I suppose mine. . . as well." He adds reluctantly, sniffing awkwardly and fiddling with the controls before everyone is tossed to the grated floor rather violently. The wheezing of the odd machine comes to a halt (as does the trembling) and the trio groans uncomfortably. The Doctor launches to his feet hastily, adjusting his suit and jogging to grab his jacket. "Bit of a rough landing, but I suppose this is a bit of a rough planet! Come along, girls!" He exclaims, opening the doors before Rose and Winnie are even back to their feet.
"You two are. . . engaged?" Rose asks once they finally clamber upright and stalk towards the door, finally comprehending what her alien friend had said.
"It's really complicated and if it's any consolation, I just found out about it like five minutes before you." Winnie answers, awkward and rushed and totally wishing she could hide in her bed for the next century or so because she just found out she's half alien and engaged to an alien who's the last alien of his race because guess what! He killed them all. So, yeah, that's that. Aliens. And yeah, freaking space travel in a matter of seconds, why hasn't she allowed herself to be in awe over that?
The girls find the Doctor leaning against the TARDIS and waiting for them. They seemed to have landed on a cliff, and Winnie grows dizzy at the sight below. Her heart seizes for a moment. The cliff is overlooking the most breathtaking, magnificent view Winnie has ever seen. Even with her distorted vision (caused by the scarring in her right eye), the bright shining sun is clear as day over a glowing, vibrant city that gives off such joyous vibes that she's half-expecting a unicorn to float by any minute. She doesn't even notice that her eyes have welled up until they completely fog her line of sight.
"Pretty cool, huh?" The Doctor comments, nudging the shocked girl with his arm. She faces him and he giggles at her total shock and awe. "This is half your home planet." He tells her, as if she didn't already know.
"So, she's alien?" Rose asks, managing to snap Winnie out of her weird, slow motion type of daze caused by the majesty of the sight.
"Half. She's also royalty, so I'd be a bit more reverent if I were you." The Doctor teases, causing Winnie to roll her eyes.
"Royalty schmoyalty. Let's go find the head honcho here." Winnie suggests, straightening her sweater and patting her hair down to neaten herself up by 0.1%. She takes a couple steps around the TARDIS, the Doctor and Rose close behind, before she's stopped by two wimpy looking guards who look more excitable than justice-seeking.
"Princess! You make your return to your kingdom in flawless timing!" One explains, his loose, fake looking armor clamoring along to his unnecessarily showy hand gestures. Winnie internally chuckles at her wondering if he was Italian. (Because if you haven't noticed, this isn't exactly Earth anymore. If you didn't catch the whole theme of the story.) She also can't help but notice that they were clearly expecting her. They weren't shocked enough when they saw her. Just excited.
"His Majesty awaits!" The other one announces, staring off ahead at nothing as he lifts his staff in the air and brings it back down to the soil with a weak clatter. The two Seers turn around and gesture for group to follow them. Winnie throws the Doctor a weary look, and even though he sees it he doesn't seem to take note. Instead, he steps forward in the direction of the guards, letting the two girls fall behind. Winnie should be able to interpret that with a blink of her eyes, but she actually struggles in understanding whether or not he did that as protection for the girls or just because he felt like going in front of them for the hell of it. God- It shouldn't even matter anyway! Winnie's been like that her whole life. She feels the absolute need to analyze literally everything to the point where she's in her head more often than she's in reality.
The guards lead the trio to some sort of transportation system that resembled very closely the monorails at Disney World, only they were floating and made completely of glass. Winnie wished she could say it was impressive, but it was pretty typical of a futuristic type of vehicle and- wow she's being way too picky right now she's literally on an alien planet take a chill pill, Winnie, jeez. Anyway, all five pile into the glass car, the door closing before the entire apparatus began to emit a high pitched whirring sound as it powered up. Before anyone can even brace themselves, the vehicle takes off, jolting everyone—even the guards— forward and sideways and all around for a few seconds before coming to an abrupt stop. The door opens, and each one of them stumbles out to a degree. The Doctor stares at the car with suspicion once everyone's out, crossing his arms and lowering his head a little. He does that when he's skeptical Winnie's brain sends (yeah, we'll start calling the intuition thingies 'sendings.' That sounds pretty cool actually.) Winnie notes how unimpressive and obvious her omniscience seems to be dealing with him.
"That's pretty strange," The Doctor notes, eyes narrowed at the car. The clumsy guards look at him with a bewilderment way more obvious than it needed to be. "Last time I was here, those rides were nice and smooth."
"Yes!" One guard answers quickly and enthusiastically (but mostly just shaking around like a nervous, spaghetti-noodle-resembling bouncy ball.) "S'pose His Majesty's let it get away from him just a bit. He's been a bit. . . preoccupied these past few years."
"With what exactly?" The Doctor presses, following eagerly as the guards start moving again.
"Oh, you know. The usual. Dealing with the princes' and princesses' engagements. Making sure all meetings take place successfully. He especially spends time making sure the Halves are actually acquiring their abilities."
Seer genes are always dominant. Ah, there's an actual intriguing one.
Winnie suddenly realizes everyone's staring at her. Her heart drops just a bit, scrambling to understand why they'd stare at her with such confusion and (slight) fear (skepticism, really. Even from those dull guards.) before realizing she just said that stupid sending aloud. Oh, what an idiot.
"Yeah, they are. . ." The guard says slowly, looking at the other one anxiously. Why would he be so freaked out by something all Seers did? The Doctor and Rose didn't look nearly as confused and freaked out as they did. Winnie looks at the two odd men, her mouth going dry when she realizes their eyes are completely white.
"Are you blind?" She finds herself asking, stepping forward a bit with furrowed and shaking hands. She looks back when she feels a warm hand wrap around her wrist, the hand's owner stepping up close beside her and slowly guiding her backwards every so slightly.
It's the Doctor, obviously, and, without taking his eyes off the stunned, and suddenly angry looking guards, whispers in Winnie's ear, explaining that "Things are very different from the last time I was here. Very different. Granted, it was sketchy before, but. . . We don't want to risk. . . pushing any buttons. We're meeting your father, fixing this whole engagement thing, and getting out. No big family reunion, unfortunately."
Winnie nods, taking in a sharp breath through her nose and trying not to vomit over how close another living being is currently standing in proximity to her. It's funny, actually. This guy's technically her fiancé and she's nauseous over physical contact with him. (Although, instead of blaming it on her extreme germaphobia and chronic OCD, she could just say it's because she just met him like a half hour ago.)
"Ignore that last question. The princess had a bit of a tumble back on Earth and isn't completely. . . with it. Forgive her." The Doctor pleads, raising his voice from the low, skeptical whisper to a much more composed, respectable tone. The infuriated look of the guards subsides again, and their shoulders appear to relax before they grow mechanical smiles and continue on forward to the entrance of a towering, colorful palace.
They stop in front of the enormous wooden doors, and Winnie notices that her hand has been held for a whole thirty seconds by the Doctor and it felt far too natural for her liking. She pulls it away and discreetly as she can, but she knows with her sneaky little intuition that he of course acknowledges it. She silently wishes she had her hand sanitizer with her as the doors swing open slowly and trumpets begin to conveniently sound from the sides of the entrance. It makes Winnie's cheeks go red and her heart pound loud enough for the entire planet to hear. Stupidly, she regrets letting go of the Doctor's hand. She's meeting the father she just learned she had and he of course has to be the sketchy king of the freaking planet she just found out she was half from. But it's fine. Totally. Fine. Oh god is Winnie sweating, man.
The anxious girl squints across the opulent room through her glasses, eyeing a man in a giant, glimmering throne who looks way too regal for her liking. The guards shove the trio forward until they've reached the foot of the throne, and Winnie's throat closes. She stands there, awkwardly, noticing the Doctor and Rose bowing and struggling to figure out whether or not she's supposed to do it herself. She does, at last minute, and stands back up again as quickly as possible to shove her hands in her sweater's pockets and rock a little on her feet.
"Daughter!" The king's voice booms across the high ceilings, "I am grateful to witness your return to our kingdom! You have grown to look almost like your mother. She was gorgeous, so I didn't expect a spitting image. Nevertheless, you are quite pretty."
Ew, what? Winnie, in front of a subconsciously formed triangle among the Doctor and Rose, resists the urge to both turn and run as well as turn and see their reaction to that greeting. Honestly, what?
"Ah, my Iris Clair," The king continues, "Perhaps my most intelligent child in the past few decades."
"I- uh- go by Winter." Winnie blurts out, hardly thinking of the consequences. She can feel a breeze as the Doctor steps closer to her.
"Winter." He echoes, testing it out with a hint of disdain. "That was not the name I instructed your mother with."
"I'm adopted." Winnie quickly replies, definitely worsening this whole situation.
"I can't say I'm surprised by that. Your mother was so very suitable for genes, but not quite for motherhood." His comment makes Winnie nauseous, because there's a tone in that sentence that makes her question his time with her birth mother— and her intuition answers it. She shouldn't have agreed to come here. She should've run back home when the Doctor and Rose found her. Oh, god. This trash-fire cannot be her father.
Shaking, she realizes the Doctor has grabbed her hand again. She's a little thankful, but mostly freaked out, especially by the look Horace gives them.
The ruler smirks and adjusts his sitting position creepily (anything he does is creepy). "I suppose we shall get to the point of our meeting, then?" He asks, but it's rhetorical. "Doctor! How wonderful it is to see you again. You have finally received your reward as the savior of our planet! I hope you are pleased."
"About that," The Doctor begins, dropping Winnie's hand and stepping forward. "I told you I didn't need your next daughter. I was perfectly content with saving the planet and moving on."
"You may not have needed, but you certainly wanted."
"Mmhm, no. Not quite." The Doctor quips, furrowing his eyebrows as if he actually had to think about the truth of Horace's comment. "So, we've actually come to break off the Connection."
Horace laughs a really obnoxious, overly aggressive and lengthy laugh. "Connections cannot be broken!"
"Your Majesty!" One of the guards suddenly addresses, as if he was holding it in the entire time. "I have important information that I must share with you immediately!"
Horace stops laughing and summons the guard up to his throne, gesturing for him to whisper it to him. He eyes Winnie as the guard whispers, looking back at the guard when he finishes and shooing him away. He clears his throat, tapping his fingers against the arms of the throne and huffing out a sighing breath. "Guards!" He booms, and every single one in the area stands attention. "Please take the Princess and her groom to prepare for nuptials. And the blonde one— show her around the kingdom until the ceremony begins."
"Wait, what?" Winnie asks, a guard grabbing her by her upper arms and dragging her across the palace. The Doctor is close behind with another guard, hopelessly attempting to reason with him.
The group stops outside an odd looking door before one guard explains that the two must "Prove their Connection," before marriage. Winnie wonders if they might be able to disprove it, but considering everything that's happened already, it doesn't seem possible.
Winnie and the Doctor are shoved into the small, empty room. The walls and floor are completely white and they can't even see the door once it closes. It makes Winnie nauseous, and she ponders on whether or not this is actually just a prison.
The Doctor tugs at his hair for a moment in rushed thought, leaving it sticking up in all sorts of directions. It was a mess before, though, so it didn't make much difference. Winnie watches as he pulls out the sonic screwdriver, sonic-ing the entire room before going to the door and huffing frustratedly.
"Deadlocked." Winnie's intuition blurts, and the Doctor nods.
"The sonic can't even get a signal. The walls somehow hinder the sensors." He stares up at them in awe, silently appreciating their ability (while also frowning because they need to get out of there and get back to Rose.)
"I guess they won't let us out until we prove our Connection? Maybe we can disprove it and they'll let us out." Winnie suggests, but before the Doctor can even think about testing that hypothesis, she's saying, "Never mind. It's not possible. Once two people are Connected there's no way not to be. This sucks."
"Okay, well, we can be Connected, but we don't have to be married! We can get out of here and stop the whole wedding thing. Connections can't break— sure, I'll give them that, but breaking off engagements is completely understandable and very possible." The Doctor reasons, placing his hands on one of the walls and bringing his ears up to listen to it. Winnie knows he won't hear anything, but she lets him pull out his stethoscope anyway.
"How do they even want us to prove our Connection anyway? Are they going to- like- hurt me or you and wait for us to heal each other? What do Connections even entail?" Winnie asks, and as the Doctor opens his mouth to answer, she does it herself. "Connections create emotional, physical, and mental bonds that ingrain in the participants a sense of trust against all judgements. They unconsciously feel a need to be around and near each other at all times. A marriage between the Connected will strengthen these bonds, but make them more manageable and controllable. This marriage, however, must be performed by both participants' cultures to be complete. God, I sound like a Wikipedia page."
"Wait, could you repeat that last bit about the marriage ag—" The room goes pitch black before he can finish his sentence. "-ain. Well, then. Winter, you wouldn't happen to be afraid of the dark would you?" No answer. He pretty much crawls across the room, searching for Winnie and wondering if they took her from the room or something. He finds her, though, curled up on the floor with her head in her hands, shaking rather violently.
Because Winnie's biggest fear— the fear that is so rightfully feared because it causes her so much pain and paranoia— is of the dark. She can't even feel her body at the moment. Her forehead pounds in sharp pains and she can't see anything and she's definitely going to die here, rest in peace to Winter, she died in the dark because her brain couldn't handle it, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh-
The Doctor grips her shoulders, and the pain slowly lessens. Her eyes are squeezed shut, and if she opens them she's positive it'll kill her. "A Seer can't see in the dark." The Doctor says. "It's not just a fear of the dark, it's a fear of the pain that comes with it!" He realizes, reaching to cup his hands on the sides of Winnie's face. "Can you speak?"
"It. . . hurts. . ." She mumbles, still shaking, even as the pain subsides little by little. "No. . . visions, just- pain." She gasps, her hands over the Doctor's as she cradles her aching head.
"The Connection allows us to heal each other by touch. Is the pain going away?" He asks, his voice suddenly shaking.
"You can feel the pain, too." Winnie points out, teeth gritted in agony.
"Your intuition's still intact?" The Doctor asks her, and had the lights been on she could've seen the flash of relief in his eyes.
"That wasn't intuition, that was deduction." She explains, frowning as she struggles to focus on anything other than the pain.
She actually is distracted from the pain however, when the lights turn back on as an automated voice drones "Connection proven." Throughout the isolated room.
"Well, then." The Doctor says, standing back up, not realizing Winnie's eyes were still squinted shut. "The door should be opening any second now." He comments, hands dug into his suit pockets as he eyes the area he thinks the door was located. He swings back around when his only reply is a whimper. "Winnie?" He asks, finally realizing the poor girl still appears to be in total agony.
"It's going to hurt like hell when I open my eyes. Just a warning because the whole Connection thing will probably make you feel it a little bit, too. Sorry about this-" She warns, bracing herself as she pries her eyes open, pain searing across her forehead and feeling like a bulldozer drilling into her skull. A vision floats across her line of sight, but it's too blurry and muffled to actually analyze. That's why she's so afraid of the dark. Not only is she in agony while she's there, but her visions are foggier and more painful than ever before afterwards.
"You weren't kidding about it hurting." The Doctor complains, palm against his forehead in hopes of alleviating the pain.
"Yeah, sorry about that." Winnie apologizes, pulling herself to her feet, legs wobbly. If he always feels the pain she's in, there's going to be a big problemo, my dude. Not to mention, she's not so sure she wants to feel any of the pain he might be in. There has to be a way to break that stupid Connection. What did her intuition say, again? Marriage strengthened it, but made it more manageable. And it wouldn't count on other planets if both cultures aren't involved! And his entire planet is gone! "We have to get married!" Winnie suddenly exclaims, causing the Doctor to jump from his position of unsuccessful sonic-ing what he believed was the invisible door.
"What?" He asks, blinking.
"If we get married here, we won't be married anywhere else! It's not possible if we can't perform it on your planet, too. And actually marrying your Connected makes the bonds manageable. That's what you asked me to repeat before these people tried to-like- torture me."
"Oh, that's perfect! You little genius!" He rejoices, hopping to his feet and making his way towards Winnie.
"Little? I'm three and a half inches shorter than you." She points out, crossing her arms. She wonders how even in such a scary situation she can manage to joke with him.
"You tall little genius!" He corrects, smiling way too wide. It's weird. It makes Winnie's stomach feel weird.
"Okay, but how do we get out? We proved the Connection a while ago now."
"I think I know, but I don't think you're going to like it."
With the ache of her forehead, the word kiss floats through Winnie's mind. Her expression drops. "Whoa, no thank you. Not happening. It can't. No offense, I just- I really- The germs and- Oh god."
"It'll be quick and painless and you won't get sick from it." The Doctor assures her, but her heart races either way.
"I might get sick from the thought." She panics, stepping back without realizing it, eyes darting around the room for no reason. "I can't do it. I never have. I don't even know how. This whole Connection actually makes sense I guess, maybe it's why I've never had an actual social interaction with a male that wasn't gay. Not to mention, I'm the most asexual person in the universe. I make plants tremble. Seriously, though- This can't happen. I don't even know what'll happen. I might have a mental breakdown, or—" The world stops completely as the Doctor dips his face down to meet her, lips crashing against her own. It's barely a second before it's over, but it felt like forever as it was happening and it makes Winnie's throat close. (Gross, gross, gross.) She aggressively wipes her mouth off onto her sweater, tears pricking her eyes. It wasn't that bad. That's why she's so upset. She's mad at herself, as if she had some vow never to have romantic interactions with another human being. But her eyes well up more rapidly when she thinks of all the germs that just transferred to her mouth. For a girl who's supposed to know everything, she's terribly versed in confrontation with other beings.
The Doctor's hands are still gently cupping her face as he stares at her sympathetically. "I'm so sorry. If there was another way, I would've avoided it, I promise."
Winnie nods, taking a deep breath and knowing he did the right thing because the door is opening again. She quickly wipes her eyes, pushing what just happened far back into her mind and planning never to look at it again.
"The Connection has been successfully proven. The ceremony awaits. Would you prefer to dress in marital garb for this event?" A robot, dressed as a maid of some sort, asks as they step out of the isolated room.
"No, thank you. Straight to the ceremony, please." Winnie requests, digging her nails into her arm to distract her from the oncoming freak out.
"As you wish, Your Highness." The robot says, driving in the direction back towards the throne room.
"Quit that." The Doctor commands, swiping her hand away from her arm. "Your nails aren't even that long, how do they hurt that bad?" He asks, and Winnie's brain sends the information that he's only asking to distract her from what's definitely about to happen. Winnie knows that an incomplete marriage will only make the Connection half manageable, but she'll take anything at this rate.
But what about Rose? Winnie didn't even need to use her intuition to know just from seeing her in visions that she was so, so in love with the Doctor. The marriage won't count for anything, but it'll definitely make things a little weird. Just a little. Maybe a lot. Not so sure, but Winnie's wishing the Doctor was allowed to go back in his own timeline and have him never save this creepy planet and make it so she was never born but fixed points and rules and all that jazz, ugh. Gross. Despite the pain she's still in from having been in the dark, she searches through her mind, looking for the Doctor's memory of the first time he was here. She can't focus enough to get a clear vision, but she can make out a couple clear snapshots—enough to know that the Doctor had no clue what a creep her father actually was. But why? What changed?
They enter the throne room again, and Horace is exactly where they left him. Winnie wonders how long they were actually in that room. In retrospect, it probably wasn't even five minutes. The pain made it feel like a lifetime, though. Rose is standing at the bottom of the throne, off to the side with guards holding each of her arms. Winnie's stomach twists with guilt, looking up to see the Doctor's jaw clenched at the sight.
"I see the couple has changed their minds regarding their marriage. I'm thrilled." Horace comments, smirking and making Winnie want to both vomit everywhere and beat him senseless. She's way too shy to ever be violent, but she'd take the opportunity to stand up against this guy in a heartbeat.
The Doctor and Winnie are directed to stand in front of the throne, as they were last time. Winnie swallows hard, trying not to—cry, scream, pee, vomit, run away, or all of the above. She turns back to Rose, who's trying to get out of the guards' grips. The two guards are different than the other two from before, but they both have completely white eyes. "Rose! Hey! Care to be my maid of honor?" Winnie asks, as if it ever lighten the mood. She asks it in a way that sounded more like an apology than a legitimate question, but Rose just frowns and Winnie does too.
"The ceremony shall begin." Horace announces, gesturing two more guards to walk up to Winnie and the Doctor. They have what looks like scalpels, and Winnie twitches violently, trying her best not to turn and run away. The Doctor grabs for her wrist in an attempt to comfort her, and she credits the Connection when it actually kind of works— for like a second. "First, now that the Connection has been proven, we shall unite the blood of the couple."
"I'm sorry, you shall what?" Winnie asks, eyes wide and throat closing.
"A removal of blood from a Seer heightens their intuition abilities... Perhaps you're familiar with it." Horace asks, skeptical and creepy as ever.
"How would I be—"
"You must have learned of this notion, correct? You must have wanted to have the most extraordinary intuition of all Seers. In doing so, you would commit treason. One can only remove the blood of a Seer upon my approval. Guards! The fabric of her upper thigh!" Horace commands, and Winnie's eyes go blurry with utter confusion.
This wasn't even a marriage ceremony, it was a trial.
Winnie looks at the Doctor in desperation, but even he doesn't know what to do as the guards hold Winnie in place and cut out a square of her jeans, revealing the scarred skin of her right leg. Oh dear god. Winnie isn't even sure if she has lungs anymore as the guards shove her to the ground.
"The princess has committed treason!" One guard claims. (So, Winnie guesses in all of the confusion that when Seers are fully blind they can still technically see just not through their eyes? Okay, then.)
"What are you talking about?! I had no clue that was even a thing!" Winnie basically screams, putting a hand over her exposed skin.
"Then why else would you perform such an action?" Horace asks, leaning forward with narrowed eyes.
"Because some people hate themselves! Not sure you know what that's like! Because you bring children into this universe unwillingly because you're so, so vain that you just have to create thousands of children who will never look or act like you because you want to feel so special! Well, you aren't special! You're just another idiotic dick prowling about the universe, ruining the lives of everyone! And for what? When was the last time you even went outside to look at your own planet? It's falling apart and you've become so enthralled with ruining lives across the universe that you haven't even noticed!" Winnie screams at the top of her lungs, tears soaking into her face and blurring her vision. She's so dizzy, she's not even sure she's making sense. She knows what changed, though. It was Horace. He started out having children across the universe just because he wanted to, but then it became a mission.
And Winnie is just one, screwed up result of that mission.
But it's pretty surprising when Horace is left speechless. Winnie thought he'd just retaliate and send her to a dungeon or something. But he doesn't know what to do. The Doctor helps Winnie to her feet, and she shrugs off her cardigan to tie around and cover the white scars covering her leg. She refuses to look at him. He must think she's the idiot. She wants to tell him she hasn't done it since she was fifteen years old, but the silence in the room is too scary to break. The Doctor does it anyway.
"Your Majesty, if you wouldn't mind, I believe we have a marriage to complete."
"If you do so, Doctor, you will be required to live out the sentence with your wife. The marriage would not yet be viable until you can make your way back to Gallifrey and complete your own marriage there as well." Horace explains, as if his half human daughter didn't just expose the crap out of him.
"Right, well. I guess it's just the price I have to pay." The Doctor says evenly. He's got a plan. Winnie's brain sends.
"In that case, I'll skip to the important part." Horace says. "I now pronounce you man. . ."
"One,"
"And-"
"Two,"
"Wife."
"RUN!" The Doctor exclaims, taking Winnie's hand, which now has a gold band on it (it literally just appeared there, what?), and sprinting away. Rose follows suit, catching up to the duo quickly and running off with them.
And Winnie's smiling. Actually smiling. Because she just kind of got married to the coolest guy in the universe, she's pretty sure. And she's in for the ride of her life.