This is the sequel to a story I wrote called A TimeTo Grow.This story was actually writtenbefore A Time To Growfor a challange on tthe Timelord message board. It features Sophia, the girl who was rescued from the planet Empaeron by the 9th Doctor shortly after the end of the time war.

A couple of notes on reviews I had for A Time To Grow:

Funky In Fishnets: I like your idea that Sophia is actually Susan, but I never even thought of that! Sophia is a completely different girl. I think it's cool that you got that idea about her though. :-)

AmyAmidalla: I hated the ending - I thought it was too cheesy, but it was a lot better than the other ending I had.

In this story Sophia isaged about 21and has moved away from her foster parents and now lives in her own flat. The 1st Doctor comes to pay her a visit to make sure she's alright.

Disclaimer: Sophia is mine! All MINE!

Train Of Thought

"He's coming," Sophia thought, "He's coming to visit me."

Who? She hadn't arranged to meet anyone. And it was late. Almost 10 O'clock. Sophia glanced at the pig shaped clock on the wall (a housewarming gift from her foster mother), and had a feeling her guest would arrive at 12 minutes past 10.

He always came to visit her at strange times of day. But who was he?
Sophia's mind, although superior to the human brain, couldn't tell her everything - it could only give her inklings, premonitions. The rest she had to work out for herself.

She gripped the edge of the table, struggling to think. Doctor... Why would she need a doctor? No. It was the Doctor. He was coming to see her.

Sophia stood just before she heard the knock at the door. She looked at the pig shaped clock again. The minute hand on the clock was just past the number 2. Twelve minutes past.

"Hello, Doctor!" Sophia threw her arms around him like he was her own grandfather.

"Sophia. How are you getting along, my dear? I see you have your own house now."

They walked into her small terraced house together and Sophia showed him into the lounge. She self consciously tidied the tablecloth on the coffee table, also a gift from her foster mother. The Doctor took the proffered cup of tea rather dubiously, but his stern countenance cleared as he drank. "You remembered to put the milk in first," he observed happily.

Sophia grinned, pleased she'd finally got the tea right, but her tone became serious and the frown reappeared on her face as she voiced the question she had to ask.

"Are they still looking for me, Doctor? Do they still want what's in my head?"

The Doctor turned sad eyes on her. Sophia felt his thoughts in her head as a rush of emotion and she closed her eyes with the force of it. He was terrified that he wouldn't be able to help her when they finally did find her. That he wouldn't be able to stop them using her. There was something else there too - something dark, and hidden beneath a mist.

The feeling suddenly cleared and Sophia opened her eyes.

"Yes, they are still looking for you. I'm sorry," said the Doctor.

Sophia stared down at her hands, clasped tightly in the lap of her lilac coloured dress. She had an idea. "Can't any of your people help? If they're as powerful as you told me they were..." He didn't reply and Sophia inexpertly tried to probe the Doctor's mind, but she came up against a blank wall.

Frustrated, she snapped, "Who are your people, anyway? What happened to them?"

The Doctor looked away from her, making it even harder to read him. At last he looked up at her, and Sophia saw the sadness in his eyes again, as well as fear and guilt.

"There are none of my people left. My entire race was destroyed in the same time war that destroyed your planet."

Their eyes locked, but the Doctor's mind still did not become clear. Sophia pushed deeper, exercising all her psychic muscles, but the Doctor was so much older than she. He pulled her gently but firmly, out of his mind, and pushed her away, so she couldn't get in again.

Sophia sat back in her armchair, head spinning sickly. "What happens if they find me and you aren't here? What am I supposed to do then?" she asked. Tears started to well up in her eyes and she covered her face with her hands.

The Doctor stood and walked over to her. "Sophia..." he placed a hesitant arm around her shoulders, "That's why I came, to give you this."

Sophia rubbed a single tear away from her eye and looked up at him. In the Doctor's hand lay a tiny black box, with two buttons on the side. "A homing device..." she smiled and reached out to hold it. "Why didn't you give me one of these before?" Sophia wondered, as she turned the object over in her hands.

"It's alien technology, but I think you're old enough to keep it safe now," the Doctor replied. Sophia heard the Doctor's mind continue the sentence, "They're looking for you harder then ever now. Because you're older and more powerful. I think you'll need that device before too long..."

She tried to pretend she hadn't heard that, but she knew those final thoughts would echo in her mind for a long time to come.

The Doctor didn't know much about the great time war that had caused the death of his people, but he was there when Sophia's planet was destroyed in an attempt to finish off the enemy. Sophia had been one of very few survivors, and she had been augmented by the enemy's technology. The Timelords thought they could use that technology to destroy their enemy and win the time war.

Sh ehad been taken to earth in the hope she would somehow manage to live a normal life, but his people were searching for her, so they could use her in a desperate bid to change their own destiny. He wanted to tell her the truth, but he was scared she'd hate him for not telling her sooner, or for being a member of the race that killed her parents and her home.

But even the Timelords could not be allowed to change history.

The Doctor was the last of the Timelords, apart from a few scattered renegades, and he was trying to ensure that his people stayed dead. He smiled sadly at the irony as he followed the train of thought, nearing the alcove where he'd left the TARDIS. He was ready for another adventure, running away again, frightened of consequences.

He'd keep running until his old bones cracked and his heart stopped.

Then he would run on for another 12 lifetimes.