Into the West
author's notes: There is no money being made off of this. No infringement is intended. I only wanted to play in the playground that is owned by the BBC and Company. All recognizable characters belong to them anyway. This is intended for enjoyment and enjoyment's sake only. I know this is short, but when Elisabeth Sladen passed away yesterday, and I looked for stories of this type, I could not find any. No one had anything posted from Luke's POV. I lost my mother two years ago so this is something that I find comforting. There may now be stories about Luke, but this was my catharsis to yesterday.
I was inspired by two songs to write this, Who Wants to Live Forever by Queen and Into the West by Annie Lennox. In fact, the song by Annie Lennox I had played at my mother's funeral. There is hardly any dialogue in this; it is mostly Luke's thoughts. I know this will seem slightly if not greatly OOC, but it is what my mind came up with.
This is the first time that I have written anything in quite a while, and it is also the first time that I have dabble in the Whoniverse. PLEASE be kind to me. If my characterizations are off, please forgive me as I have only seen a handful of episodes from the original DW series.
Thanks to everyone for reviews, they really make this all worthwhile. I appreciate them whether they are good or bad, but the flames really hurt.
As always, please enjoy this as much as I have, and don't forget to read and review.
Always,
CapriceAnn Hedican-Kocur
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. . .
Into the West
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. . .
April 19, 2011, I will never forget that day. How could I? It was the day that my life, as I had briefly known it, ended. My mother died. I did not know how I was going to cope. I had never lost anyone close to me. I had never even been to a funeral before. I did not know how to plan one.
I was lost. I could not focus on anything except for my brief past; my all too brief time with my mother.
I do not know if I could ever forgive myself for not being there. Maybe, if I had of been there she would not have died, maybe she would not have died alone. I had had a rare break from school and had taken a trip to see Maria. She was the first friend that I had made when I came to life. She lived in America, and I had not seen her in so long. My mother had said that my school break was the perfect time to go, and she had sent me off.
. . .
*flashback*
. . .
You see, my life has been far from normal. I was only "born," if you could call it that, just four short years ago. I was made by an alien, the Bane, intent on conquering the human race. My mother, the woman who rescued me and adopted me as her own, was Sarah Jane Smith. With her that day had been Maria.
Maria had lived across the street from my mother and me. She became my best friend, as well as another friend of hers, Clyde. Maria, Clyde, and I soon joined my mother saving the planet from alien incursions. All was going great until Maria's father got a transfer to the United States. She moved away from us, and I struggled with missing her for a long time. We kept in touch mostly by computer video conferencing.
Our friendship circle was soon joined by Rani. Her father was the Head at our school, and they had moved into Maria's home. She filled a hole that had been left when Maria left, but it was not like she replaced Maria, she was just an addition.
. . .
*end flashback*
. . .
Maria and I had been having breakfast when he had appeared, the Doctor. I knew, just from the look he gave me, that something was horribly wrong. I did not even know this Doctor, but I knew that look. He hurried us away into his old blue box. I am not sure what happened over the next few days, everything seemed to be happening in a haze. It was like I was there, but not there.
The day of the funeral finally dawned. I went through the motions. I sat back and listened to the people speak of her; people that knew her far better than I did. People that spoke so kindly of her. Jo was there with her grandson. They had just met her recently when the Doctor was thought to be dead. UNIT members were there. Other Companions of the Doctor were there. Even Jack was there.
There were several men there that I did not know. There was an older gentleman dress in a suit with one of those old-fashioned string bowties. There was a man that reminded me of Moe from the Three Stooges, only softer. Then the gentleman wearing a dark green, velvet jacket with a tuxedo shirt and bowtie walked up to me. He did not say a word, just gave me the saddest look, and then he walked away. The next man walked up wearing a long scarf and offered me a jelly baby. I took it and thanked him. The next man looked like he was ready to go play a game of cricket, except that he had a stalk of celery pinned to his lapel. The sixth man actually brought a smile to my face. His style reminded me vaguely of a clown, but at the same time seemed to suit him as well. The seventh man that came up to I was fairly well dressed except he, like the previous two, had question marks on his clothes; even the umbrella he carried had a handle shaped like a question mark. The eighth man was dressed similarly to a couple of the older gentlemen, but his waistcoat was dark purple velvet, and his hair was a mop of dark brown curls. The next man, the only one to say more than two words to me so far, was dressed in a dark leather jacket and brown jumper.
. . .
"How much did you know about your mother's motivation, to do what she did, did you know about?" he asked me.
"I know that she felt that she couldn't just sit back and not do anything when there was no one else there to do it," I answered him.
"Sarah Jane was always one to want to do something to help those that were less fortunate than her. She often reminded me of a quote from the Professor," he paused before continuing. "She told me that 'all we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us.' She lived by that rule."
"That does sound like Mom," I said to him, thanking him for coming along today.
. . .
The next man was one that I knew well, he had saved me on more than one occasion. He was dressed, as per usual, in his long overcoat and brown, pin-striped suit. He did not know me, so I guess it was long before he met me. He had with him a red-haired lady who seemed to smile at me sadly as she hugged me. She told me if I ever needed to talk about losing a parent, I could call her since she had lost her father.
The last man, the one who brought me home to this nightmare, was dressed fairly simply when you compare him to almost all of the other men. He had a simple suit coat and button down shirt with a bowtie and black slacks on. He never really said much to me, but his two companions tried to keep me focused on anything other than the despair that was threatening to overtake me.
. . .
A few days after the funeral I found out that Amy, one of the Doctor's latest companions had called the school to apprise them of the situation. I had been allowed to take the time off that I needed so that I could see to my mother's affairs.
I was sitting in the attic talking to Mr. Smith and K-9 when it finally hit me what I needed to do most to honor my mother. It was something that the man at the funeral had said about deciding what to do with the time you are given. I wanted to continue on with my mother's job of helping those less fortunate.
. . .
Over the next several years, my friends and I all finished school and continued to thwart alien incursions in Great Britain. After the fall of Torchwood, we felt our jobs were all the more important. We couldn't leave everything to UNIT. After the death of the Brigadier, there were less people in UNIT that would do things the way my mother would have done them. We formed our own group dedicated to defending the Earth and making friends with the aliens that would be friends. As one of the final acts to celebrate my mother's life and love, and with the help of Mr. Smith, I set up a scholarship in my mother's name that would allow journalism students the chance to afford to go to university.
I still miss my mother, even now after all these years. I always will. But I do try to always live my life to the fullest. To simply just live the way she would have wanted me to.
. . .
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