The problem was that she was so empty. Always waiting, always searching. Always in need of her Doctor.
If she could just find him, then the hole would be gone and she could remember. Really, actually remember who she was. The name had faded and now the syllables danced around the tip of her tongue tauntingly, but would not be summoned.
She was just Bad Wolf now. An Interface, cast off into space by…
By…
Bad Wolf.
That was all that remained. That and the image of the girl that she had been. Whose name started with an R, she thought. Yes, that seemed to make sense.
The Bad Wolf was leaned against an alley wall. She couldn't feel the rough brick dig into her back. Through the years the expending of energy left her little more than image and sound. At first, her hands had simply started going through things. Small items, just little things. Even if she had been able to feel, she wouldn't have minded the discomfort. Everything was foggy around the edges without that little blue box she was always on the lookout for.
She was truly a ghost now.
And then a noise sounded. It filled her up for a moment, and she was up on her feet, listening desperately. Praying that she would hear it again.
The groaning of engines. Stirring, creaking, brakes struggling against the velocity of a box whose sides she had once had memorized.
The door opened with a whine of hinges and brown hair poked out.
Some really great hair.
For a second, the Bad Wolf had who she was. It all come back in a flash, and then faded just as quickly. She stepped forward, hesitated.
Everything inside her froze. This was what she had been waiting for this moment, and suddenly the human part of her that carried all those complicated emotions separate from the raw energy of Bad Wolf was stopping her as it broke free for the first time in what could very well have been centuries.
What if he hated her how she was?
What if she couldn't do what she had been created to do—protect him?
What if it wasn't him?
No, it had to be him. Her name had faded. But the Doctor's never had. It never would.
"Doctor." She whispered. He did not turn. Did not hear.
He was looking around and shaking his head. Turning.
Closing the doors.
The next word out of her mouth was a screamed rendition of his name. The fear released her as a more powerful terror clamped its jaws around her.
And he still didn't hear.
Everything that had filled her for those mere seconds collapsed as the engine began again.
Just as hope had been brought, it was stolen away.