A/N: Hello! Anyways, this is my first attempt at writing a Doctor Who fanfic so please bear with me. Reviews are awesome, follows and favourites are great. I'll hopefully be updating at least once a week or every couple days. Reviews help me to write faster.

Disclaimer: I most definitely do not own Doctor Who, no matter how many times I wished I did.

. . .

The Doctor was by himself, reading near the console of the TARDIS. Amy and Rory were asleep – at least he thought they were asleep; he really didn't want to know anything else – so he was left to his thoughts. He could wake them up if he wanted to, but the last time ended with Amy chasing him around the ship with a heeled shoe as a weapon. Definitely not fun.

It was later that night – or what the TARDIS made to look like night – that he began to tinker with the ship. At exactly 10:54 pm, the TARDIS did something strange.

She landed herself.

The Doctor bolted up to the console to attempt to stop the landing, but failed. She had already landed.

"What're you doing old girl?" He asked no one in particular before checking the controls. Everything seemed to be in order. "Well then, that was odd," He said to himself. "Now, where have you brought me this time?"

He checked the monitor and the readings to find that he was in England once again. Double-checking the date, he let out a breath of relief when he saw that it was the sixteenth of June, 2010. Knitting his eyebrows in confusion, he couldn't figure out why his ship had brought him here. He was about to take off again before something caught his eye on the monitor.

Someone was sitting on the edge of the bridge they were parked on. The figure stood up.

They were going to jump.

Now, the Doctor wasn't able to figure out what had compelled him to act. Maybe it was the fact that he had seen too many people die. Or that he didn't want someone to make a rash decision. Or that he wouldn't be able to live with himself if he didn't try.

He flung open the TARDIS doors and ran out. "Stop! Don't jump!"

The figure turned around and took the Doctor by surprise for a moment. The person he had mistaken to be at least in their twenties was just a girl, fifteen years old at the most. Her blonde hair was open, grey eyes hidden behind black, rectangular glasses. Her eyeliner was running, which suggested that she had been crying. She just stared at him, as if waiting for an answer.

For once, the madman with a box didn't have one.

. . .

Charlotte walked through the streets after work, having missed the bus. She flipped the hood of her jacket up to cover her blonde curls and pushed her glasses up her nose. Checking the time on the phone her grandparents gave her, she saw it was 10:45 pm.

"Just my luck," She mumbled, not angry, but tired. She also noticed multiple texts from her mother. All of them were along the same lines; where are you, where's supper, your father had a bad day, hurry up, and that she was locking the door at 10:50. If she wasn't there in time, she'd have to find somewhere else to sleep.

Charlotte sat down on a bench, exhausted. Her leg still didn't heal completely and her shift wasn't an easy one. There was no way she could make it back home in five minutes. She looked around a bit, looking at the cars driving by and the faint light of the stars. It wouldn't be too bad if she just slept here and stopped by a friend's place to freshen up before school. Well, Isabelle's place; there wasn't really anywhere else she could go.

But sleeping on the bench wasn't an option, so she managed to get up and keep walking. Charlotte let her mind drift back to the past couple days as gravel crunched under her feet.

"Charlotte Jackson! Come here right now! What have I told you about when I get home? Can't bother to cook supper anymore, can you? I believe you need to be taught a lesson!"

She cringed at the memory. The bruises were still bright purple against the pale skin of her arm. Charlotte was careful though; she made sure no one ever saw the aftermath of her punishments. That would only lead to people failing in their attempt to help and harsher punishments for her.

"Don't bother to come home until you apologize for what you've said! God knows what I did in a past life to have such a burden like you now! It would have been my good fortune if you had died! At least we would both be happy!"

All she had suggested was that she stop drinking and find a job. Or at least clean up a bit. What was so wrong about that? But she was probably right; Charlotte was only bothering her again, being a burden to the person who had given birth to her. She had no place to speak. At least Isabelle's parents had been out for the weekend, so she could stay there without any awkward questions.

But did her Mum have a point?

"Look who's here girls. The mute girl! Or is it four eyes? Can you even speak?" There was a small outbreak of laughter. "Tell me Charlotte, why do you even bother showing up anymore? No one would really miss you." A shove sends her tray crashing to the floor – spilling some of the contents on the snobby girl in front of her.

"It's not my fault your mother is a whore and your father spends all his time away from you because he can't stand your existence – a reminder of an affair. Now which parent had it, no one's sure. I'm guessing one each, since your brother shares the same fate," Charlotte replied coldly, meeting the girl's gaze with her grey eyes."Does that answer your question if I can speak?"

A shriek of fury from the other girl and ten minutes later Charlotte is on the ground, nose bleeding and glasses cracked. Isabelle finally came into the cafeteria and helped her up, handing her glasses to her.

"Just kill yourself you freak!"

Those thoughts kept running through her head as she walked on the bridge – a shortcut that would shave off at least ten minutes of her walk. Charlotte didn't even notice the tears running down her face, hot and salty, making her eyeliner run. Would it really be better if she just died? She looked over the edge. 'It's high enough,' she mused to herself.

10:54 pm she was just sitting there, steeling herself for a very big shortcut; the shortcut of life.

10:55 pm she was standing, ready to jump.

10:56 pm, a voice was shouting for her to stop, for her to not jump. She turned around and met the strangest man she would probably every meet. His floppy brown hair was probably the most normal thing about him. He was wearing a white shirt and black trousers, with red braces and a red bowtie to top it all off. There was a strange object in his pocket, but she could barely see it.

. . .

The two continued to look at each other for a moment before Charlotte turned around again.

"Stop, please. Don't jump," The Doctor pleaded. "You shouldn't do this."

"And why shouldn't I?" Charlotte asked, turning around. She would have lost her balance if the Doctor didn't grab her arm and yank her away from the edge. He looked her directly in the eye and she could tell now that they were green.

"Because you're you. And your life is very important," He replied. She stepped away from him and laughed slightly.

"To who? No one will miss me, I just ruin everything. I'm nothing special, just a freak," Charlotte replied, hugging her arms. The Doctor just watched her for a moment.

"That makes two of us then," He smiled. "All the best people are the ones people call freaks. It's because they don't understand us."

"And who are you exactly?" Charlotte asked with a hint of curiosity in her voice. She watched as he straightened his bowtie.

"I'm the Doctor. And you are?"

"Doctor?" Charlotte asked, eyebrow raised. All thoughts of jumping off the bridge had vanished from her mind. "What kind of name is Doctor? I'm Charlie."

"It's an amazing name," He defended. "What kind of name is Charlie?"

Charlotte didn't know when she began smiling, let alone when she began laughing. "Charlie is short for Charlotte. Charlotte Jackson. I like it better."

"Well then Charlie which is short for Charlotte, have I changed your mind?"The Doctor asked, hoping that the answer was yes. He would hate to discover later that she had gone through with it as soon as he left. She was quiet for the longest time, a hollow smile on her face.

"Goodbye Doctor," She said simply before turning around and jogging down the rest of the bridge, catching a bus that would take her close enough to home.

The Doctor watched until she had gotten on the bus before walking back into the TARDIS. He couldn't help himself as a smile crept onto his face as he patted the console.

"So that's why you brought me here old girl. To save Miss Charlotte Jackson. Why it was her, I don't really care," He rambled on to himself. "Save one girl from a terrible mistake, of course she's important. Everyone is. Now, let's get going before Amy and Rory wake up, shall we?"

The Timelord waltzed around the console, flipping switches and humming to himself. Maybe the couple would like to see a new galaxy in the future. Or maybe Paris while the Eiffel Tower was being constructed.

But, as always, the TARDIS had different plans.

When the Doctor did throw open the doors later on with his companions by his side, he wasn't in Paris, or on another planet, or even another time.

Instead he was parked on the far end of a school field just as students started entering the building.

"Doctor, what's going on?" Amy asked, confused.

"I'm not quite sure, but I'm sure the TARDIS did this," He replied before whipping out his sonic screwdriver.

"Is something wrong?" Rory asked, watching the Timelord.

"Possibly. Maybe. I don't know, but I'm going to go check it out. Go on a date you two," He called before running off towards the school. As he walked into the front office, he noticed a girl at her locker and a smile crept onto his face.

"Charlotte Jackson," He whispered. "Funny seeing you here."

. . .

So, what do you think? Remember to review! Did I do Eleven justice?!