Hola. So I may not have communicated this love to you guys, but I adore Doctor Who episodes with children. They're scarier. They touch a nerve. They're good. That's part of why this story was written, but mostly it was a birthday story for a friend of mine, and she was cool with having it posted on the site. Enjoy!

Disclaimer: I don't own the Doctor, the TARDIS and the overrall concept and awesomeness of Doctor Who. Nor do I own the song lyrics you're about to see. TW: self-harm and mental illness.

Dedication: to my history class and fangirl and french class and english class and overrall life buddy :D


The Doctor's Schizophrenic


Tell me everything that happened

Tell me everything you saw

They had lights inside their eyes

They had lights inside their eyes

Did you see the closing window?

Did you hear the slamming door?

They moved forward, my heart died

They moved forward, my heart died

Please, please tell me what they look like

Did they seem afraid of you?

They were kids that I once knew

They were kids that I once knew

-Dead Hearts, Stars


1

What you see

A shabby infirmary room. A girl with bouncy curls was sitting on an examination table, her legs tucked underneath her. Her brown eyes staring straight ahead and her clothes are worn out and out of date. A doctor, a man on the verge of retirement with skin the colour of cinnamon and a belly on the verge of protruding, is sitting on a chair facing her, holding a clipboard.

"So how are you doing, Erika?" He asked, already scribbling.

"I'm alright, yourself?"

"I'm fine, though that's none of your concern. We're here about you."

Erika is looking over Dr Timmons' shoulder.

"Erika?" He asked.

She shook her head and refocused.

"Madam Murray was telling me that she thought you were doing better."

"I am doing better." Erika said.

"But then the younger girls told her that you weren't sleeping well. That you paced at night. That you jumped or got startled when nobody made a noise."

She nearly swore. There used to be a sisterhood in the building. If you didn't rat, you wouldn't get ratted on. It had all gone to hell once the doctors started milling around. What was that saying? "Too many cooks spoil the broth"? Too many fucked up things in the Erika department had screwed everyone over.

"You're looking at nothing again," Dr Timmons said. "Or is it not nothing?"

Erika choked.

"No, it… it is nothing." She said.

"Erika, you can be honest with me." Dr Timmons said.

"I am being honest. I don't need you. I don't need to be tested." Erika said.

"Don't think of it as testing, Erika. Think of it as if we're exploring what's going on in your head."

"I don't need that either."

"Regardless of what you think you need, I have to do my job Erika. And you have to do yours to keep yourself happy and healthy." Dr Timmons said. "You see people that aren't there, do you Erika?"

"Well clearly if I see them, they're there." Erika said.

What you see

Erika panicked upon seeing the pen touch the paper and she rushed to defend herself.

"I mean… If they were standing around me… well, there must be a reason right? So what could have changed their minds and made them leave?"

That didn't make it sound any better did it?

"Well maybe nobody's actually happened, Erika." Dr Timmons suggested. "We've talked about this with Madam Murray. It's quite possible that these things happen, but not in real life."

"I'm not sick." Erika growled.

"I'm not saying you are," Dr Timmons said.

"You're saying it but rolling it in sugar and putting it on steroids."

There was a knock on the door and it opened wide. A man came in.

What you see

A man built like a stick and armed with a long face, carved with deep wrinkles. A mop of grey hair topped his head.

"Hello, mind if I come in- good- thank you- so kind," he said letting himself in. At least he closed the door behind him. Erika had made Dr Timmons ask her thrice.

"Don't mind me, keep at whatever it was you were doing," he said taking a metallic object from the inside pocket of his jacket. He pointed it at cupboards and window frames, a light at the tip turning blue and a whizzing sound going through the room. "I'm sure it was important. Well I'm not, don't mind me. Simply browsing."

"Excuse me," Dr Timmons said offended to his extreme once the strange man had climbed on the counter top to wave his metal instrument on the top of some cupboards, knocking down a jar of wooden popsicle-like sticks. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh I'm the Doctor," he said jumping down from the cupboard. "Can someone point me to the loo?"

"Well it just so happens that I'm a doctor too." Dr Timmons said, standing up proudly. He must have a blast whenever he wasn't on comission at the home and he was actually at a hospital if seeing doctors made him so proud.

"Really?"

"Yes, and even if we were to suppose that I trusted your credentials; there is no reason for you to be here."

"Oh, credentials? Why are those always so important to you lot?" The man sighed and took papers from the inside of his coat. He handed them over to Dr Timmons who was standing so that Erika could read over his shoulder.

"Dr John Smith, Child Psychiatrist," Dr Timmons read off.

"Help," Erika said seconds after, seeing a completely different word on the paper.

The man turned his head as if observing Erika and Dr Timmons in a new light, eyes slanted.

"Something tells me you two aren't quite on the same page…" He said quietly. He ripped the papers from Dr Timmons' hands and put them back inside his coat. "Well, no matter! You- bright young lady, brown hair, I like brunettes- how about you show me to the loo now?"

"Erika is currently with me." Dr Timmons said.

"Not if she's going to show me around, she's not." The new doctor said, opening the door behind him. He turned towards Erika. "Get a move on, you, I'm in a bit of a rush."

"Sir-"

"Actually it's Doctor," the new man said. "Trust me. I'm a professional. At a lot of things, but I excel at being a doctor. Also snorkelling, but that's not particularly pertinent. Unless you think so, you look bright enough to formulate a respectable opinion- now will you show me the way or not?"

Erika jumped off the exam table and weaseled through the door before Dr Timmons could say anything.


2

What you see

A cubicle door swings open and the new doctor and Erika stand on the other side

"Oh- that is… that is absolutely disgusting- are you sure this flushes?" The Doctor said. "When has it last been cleaned?"

"It's a group home, Mister Doctor."

"A group home?"

"A kind of… experimental thing from the government. A pedagogical experience officially. An orphanage with a different name, from what I can tell. Not a lot of cleaning goes in here. Not a lot of anything ever comes in… well, anything but kids." Erika said, burying her hands in her pull over's pockets.

"And you say doctors work here, Erika?" He asked holding his nose.

Erika had not particularly said much. She hadn't spoken to the strange man at all, as a matter of fact.

"No Mister."

"Good. They should know that disease spreads through bad hygiene and that being said, if the bubonic plague makes a comeback it'll be through here. Even your horrible twenty-first century doctors should know that."

"They're not horrible!" Erika said defensively.

"But you didn't seem too impressed by him either." The Doctor noticed.

Erika didn't say anything.

"They're not horrible but they do make mistakes. " Erika said.

"Bad mistakes?" The Doctor asked.

"Sometimes," Erika said.

"So how bad is the mistake they're making right now?" The Doctor said.

"I'm not to tell anyone," Erika said.

"Well I'm not just anyone. I'm the Doctor."

For some reason this sounded completely valid.

"They think I'm schizophrenic or bipolar or something." Erika said.

"Bright and rational and calm young lady like you? Why would they think that?" The Doctor said.

"You keep calling me 'bright' but you don't even know my name," Erika said. She hated condescension and she'd gotten used to punching it in the throat before it even striked. "What proof do you have?"

"Well what's your name?"

"Erika Tardiff."

"Well now I know your last name. Can I call you bright now?"

Erika smiled a bit.

"See, even the smile's bright," he teased touching her chin.

"They think that I see things that aren't there," Erika explained. For suhc a big, heavy secret it came out easily. He had the kind of curious eyes that made Erika think that whatever information she could possibly supply him with, he'd adore. "Hear things that aren't there. Hallucinating, delusionating…"

"That's not a word Erika."

"See? I'm not bright. I'm not good for much." Erika said. "Madam Murray -that's our head educator, by the way- just can't spend time figuring out what's wrong with me because there are so many kids here, and so she's trying to find an explanation that'll be quick and get me sent off."

"Well that's not working very well, now is it? By the way, can you tell me where we are?"

"Didn't you come in through the door and complete some paperwork like the usual visitor?"

"Well I did come in through the door- I tried windows once and they're just not worth it. But I never said which one."

Erika didn't know how to take that but he went on. "Who usually visits?"

"People who want to adopt," Erika said. "They come and look at us and decide if it's worth the risk to get kids like me when they fill in the papers. Family that kids got taken from."

"For the sake of argument, let's just say that I'm visiting you if the question is asked." The Doctor said.

"That'll be something. I never get visitors." Erika said.

The Doctor's face turned into that look of concentration again.

"Why not, Erika? Why not?"

Erika looked at the ground.

"It doesn't matter. You can be my first." Erika said. "Weren't you looking for something?"

"Ah- yes- see, you are bright," the doctor said. "I was looking-"

"In a bathroom."

"Yes, lots of things happen in bathrooms," he said defensively.

"Yeah," Erika said. "A girl slit her risks in the last shower stall a while back."

That too came out all on its own. The doctor froze.

"She what?" he asked turning towards her carefully. Her answer was just as carefully crafter.

"She slit her wrists. With scissors from the craft room. Ellie found her, I think. An hour or so later. Ellie or Jennie I can never tell the difference even if they've been here for-"

"And nobody looked for her sooner?" the doctor asked.

Erika hesitated. There was a thin line coming towards her like a hurdle, a thin line that would seperate her sounding insane and her answering a simple question. The line was not to be violated. The line was not to be passed. The line was God. Erika couldn't afford to lose her balance and tip on one side of it like she had last month. That was life as a tightrope artist.

"There's no surveillance in the bathroom. No camera. You can do whatever you like in there, really." And she'd crossed the line and was exposing herself now- fantastic. To cover up she quickly bit back with, "No cameras or anything, and the news is so hot with educator sexual abuse and whatnot that the adults barely ever walk in here. You should see it in the morning. Bigger girls bullying the little ones for the first few showers. There isn't much hot water see, so-"

"I think that's enough for the bathrom," he said. "Now, since I'm a visitor, you owe me a complete, thorough tour do you not?"


3

What you see

A room alive with the thumping and hissing of machines and pipes and heaters and air conditioning, but closed and isolated by the monstrous piles of cardboard boxes filled with cruelly donated knicknacks and school supplies baught in bulk at the hands of no-name companies.

"Usually this isn't on the tour, I think," Erika said.

"You told me yourself you weren't an expert," the Doctor said.

"No, it's an educated guess," Erika said. A machine jammed for a nanosecond before continuing its normal clang, thus scaring the living shit out of her. Usually the basement was her refuge- who came down, right? But with this doctor around… suddenly the quiet and the loneliness didn't seem to work so much. It seemed eerier than anything, and Erika didn't need eerie thank you very much.

Then again, she didn't need insanity but the man was marching around holding his screwdriver out in front of him like a flashlight. Blue lights, whirring sound and all.

"What exactly are you here… for?" She asked.

"Energy," he said. "I am looking for energy."

"Well, the heating and whatnot systems are down here…" Erika said. "But there are wires in all the walls up there, too."

"Oh, I'm looking for a lot more energy than that," the doctor said. "Enough energy to drag me here…"

"Drag you here?" Erika said.

"I didn't come here out of interest," the doctor said. "To this group home or whatever you call it… something very, very big and most likely very, very important dragged me here."

"You were dragged?" Erika asked. "Story of all our lives, this place is a magnet for people who don't want to be here."

"Where would you rather be Erika?"

"In London working for an abusive pimp who makes me sexually gratify him on a regular basis in exchange of enough dope to satisfy and nurse my pungent heroin addiction," Erika said.

He looked at her in shock. Usually she got those looks with that answer. Screw whoever said 'honnesty is the best policy'. As she was learning, often playing dumb wasn't a bad idea.

"Well," he said.

They kept looking. He went his side and Erika went the other. When she unfolded the cardboard flaps containing clothing donations, she started praying that those particular items wouldn't be distributed to her. She was thankful for donations and funding, hell she lived off of those, but some of the things that came up…

He found something much more interesting, however. A newspaper article that made him gasp and grimace, which was why Erika turned around and saw it.

"What's that?" Erika asked.

He stuffed it in his pocket.

"Nothing," he said. "Nothing at all."

Before she could press the issue, his screwdriver or whatever he called it made a racket.

"Ooh, ooh, hot spot!" he called. "Excellent, yes…"

She had no idea what he meant by 'hot spot'. The temperature had dropped at least five degrees.

"Very interesting," he said consulting the handle of his so-called screwdriver as if he could read something from it.

"My word was 'creepy'," Erika said. "We should go."

The ceiling above them creaked. The home was an old building, that much she knew (she lived with biweekly plumbing throw-backs and the breakers jumped every time someone in the kitchens used a microwave and a blender at the same time- God did she know). But that was a creepy ass creak.

"No it's not that interesting," he said nonchalently.

"Mister Doctor, we should go," Erika said. She felt like that little girl with the peanut allergy, Maisie, looked when someone gave her peanut butter. Like her throat was clenched so tightly, it was about to fold over itself and squeeze the air right back out of her mouth.

No, actually. She felt like Erika having one of what the educators dubbed a "moment".

"I'm not done," he said.

"It doesn't mater, Mister Doctor," Erika bargained.

"Just 'Doctor' is fine."

"We need to go," Erika said.

"Not quite yet," he replied. His answer was as devastating as if he was holding her head under the water.

"Mister-"

"Just 'doctor',"

"I don't care!" She said. She screamed it- which probably wasn't her best idea.

"Are you panicking?" He asked, his attention snapping to her like a switch had been flicked.

"I'm not panicking, that's not a symptom, we just have to go now!"

But he was right. She was panicking, it was a symptom of insanity, and now it was too late because it appeared right in front of her eyes and screamed and had Madam Murray running down the stairs.


3

What you see

A very standard infirmary that would've earned itself a lot of checks on an inspection and even a bonus point for the inspirational poster on the benefits of fruit proudly hanging above one of the beds. Above the exact bed, in fact, of Erika Tardif, who was still pretending to sleep and not overhear the conversation about possible explenations for the "moment" downstairs.

"That's the kind of thing I'm worried about," Madam Murray confided to Dr. Timmons. "What was she doing down there? How much longer would she have stayed there, had we not find her? Could she… hurt herself?"

"Erika did exhibit certain signs of psychosis," Dr Timmons said expertly. "She was unresponsive, hysterical, detached… same goes for when she was with me earlier."

Had she? All she'd remembered was the bubbling panic flooding her system like lava. Madam Murray had taken her arm, probably in a piss poor attempt at comfort, and the volcano had burst. She'd screamed, panicked. Known that she had to get the apparition away from her or so help her; and everything that was trying to get in her way of that had to go (see the 'or so help her').

But she felt alright now. Dizzy but decent. As if the world had been flipped right side up again. She remembered everything and none of it felt insane. If they'd seen what Erika had seen, they'd have scrambled to get away too. Also they would have wet their pants. At least Erika didn't do that.

"Has she been spending time alone lately?"

"She's never liked the other children," Madam Murray said twisting her hands together in a detached maternal worry, glancing at Erika's 'sleeping' figure as if she wouldn't want anything more than to get closer. For all the snark and crap that Erika gave the adults and the system and the educators; some of them really did care. Fiercely, at that.

"Yes I know. But has it been worst lately?"

"Yes it has."

"I'm assuming that there's no clear family medical history for her," Dr Timmons said.

"No. Her mother died in hospital without supplying so much as a last name," Madam Murray. "But children like Erika… well, the Lord knows where they come to us from. It's never good."

That stung a bit and Erika bit her tongue. Just because it was true didn't mean that you had to say it out loud.

"How was her mother in hospital? Do you know?"

"Afraid I don't," Madam Murray said. "But she wasn't in a good place. Drug addict: it was all over her system when she went into labour, Erika was born addicted the poor thing." The next part was a whisper. "Possibly a prostitute, they didn't get much out of her but…"

Erika blinked.

She knew three things about her family, that was it. The name 'Nancy' had run in it for generations. That's why the nurses had given it to her (luckily with a decent middle name to fall back to). Her mum or dad was probably black, she didn't know which and never would. That was the third thing she knew: she'd never learn more.

"Does Erika know that?" a third voice asked. Erika jumped. The doctor. He was still here.

"No," Madam Murray said. "No she doesn't."

"Good," he said- which completely outraged Erika.

"Good?" Madam Murray said. "Good? You're telling me what's good and bad for the children under my care when you were with her when she was down there? Who let you in? What were you doing?"

Erika once read somewhere that stress was just the body's response to a change in the environment. The response could be fight or flight, but Erika had just invented a new one called hold the fuck up.

"What happened?" She asked sitting up in bed quickly before the doctor had to answer.

"Erika!" Madam Murray sighed.

Her plan worked. She was so caught up in smothering Erika, and Dr Timmons was so busy examining Erika that the question was dropped.

Thanks to those papers of his, the doctor had Madam Murray convinced that he was a completely qualified child psychiatrist more experienced in cases like Erika's than Dr Timmons, and he was volunteering at the center to examine Erika at the request of Dr Timmons himself.

Dr Timmons himself was buying this lie once the doctor had had a few quick, witty words exchanged with him. Apparently the Doctor was also staying overnight to ensure proper examination in one of the guest rooms too. Interesting.

If Erika could talk herself in and out of shit the way he could, she would be ruling the world.

He cleared the infirmary of Madam Murray and Dr Timmons which left more room for unanswered questions on the verge of spilling out of the doctor's mouth. Erika could feel them. They'd been coming ever since the educators at the home had determined that Erika wasn't playing with them for attention.

"What happened down there?" he asked.

"No idea," Erika said. "If you're a child psychiatrist, you tell me."

"But I'm not," he said. "You know that. You're smarter than that lot, you need more than a piece of paper to believe in something. And even if I were, I don't think it'd mean anything. You don't need a psychologist, Erika. Something very real scared you down there and I need to know what it is."

"Why?" Erika said defensively. She would not be tricked into admitting to anything. She would not be admitted into a psychiatric ward before her sixteenth birthday, destined to spend the rest of her life waiting for the next time they served her gloop or took her out of the straightjacket so that she could explain her feelings with crayons.

He slipped his screwdriver out of his sleeve.

"Because this wouldn't be insane too," he said. "And something down there made it react just as strongly. In fact, it broke. I had to fix it."


5

A girl with glassy eyes as if she were trapped in an obligatory lecture- which was about true. She didn't seem very interested in the man talking to her, at any rate.

"This screw driver has seen planets crumble and wars," the doctor said, which didn't make much sense to Erika. And by 'not much' she meant 'not at all'. "But something in that room made it break. And you did the same. Well, you didn't break. You just…"

"Short-circuited?"

"Possibly," the doctor said. "I'm not as good with human systems."

"You're a doctor."

"There are lots of kinds of doctors," he said. "Erika, how old is this building?"

"Very," she shrugged. "I'm not entirely sure. It might've been there before but I know that after World War I they had soldiers with mental disabilities living here. For readaptation and what have you. Most of them either straightened up or killed themselves , so eventually this place shut down until they expanded on the right wing and it became an orphanage for World War II orphans and also a hiding place for Jewish kids."

The doctor whistled.

"If these walls could speak," the doctor said looking around them.

Erika swallowed uncomfortably.

The doctor paced the infirmary, holding the back of his neck and thinking aloud.

"Well clearly this building isn't being invaded by aliens, if so I would've gotten a worst welcome and if it's so old then it's unlikely that it's occupied by another life form, something would have changed and someone would have noticed, but it couldn't have been occupied since before the war because the cleansing and Terrestrial Property Repatriation laws would have expelled it…"

"Terrestrial Property Repatriation laws?" Erika asked.

"Yeah, very complicated and boring alien juro-legislatives- I'm a time-traveling alien by the way, I know this stuff…" the doctor said.

"Terrestrial Property Repatriation laws?" she repeated.

"Laws forbiding aliens to own property on the planet Earth as long as if it's on land, the sea is still up for grabs but humans don't care and nobody's tried summoning Him in years…" the doctor said. "So this building isn't occupied but something is causing a massive accumulation of energy, like a tumour of energy in this group home- you really didn't catch at the time-traveling alien part?"

Erika shook her head. "They say I'm insane, but I'm not. I'm not about to go accuse you, am I?" She said.

The doctor looked at her curiously. "That… that is an intelligent statement, right there. I'd forgotten how often humans had those- sorry, not humans, children. I forgot that children weren't just teeny-tiny humans. They're also much wiser. And also teeny-tiny. Don't look at me that way, admit it Erika Tardis, you are teeny-tiny."

"I'm not teeny-tiny and my name isn't Tardis, it's Tardif," she said. "I don't know where you get that from."

"Okay, Teeny Tiny Human," the doctor said. "Small and full of fury."

"Like Tinker Bell," Erika said. "You know, she really is quite mean, Tinker Bell. She tries to drown Wendy once, and another time she gets the Lost Boys to shoot her out of the sky. She was really vicious before Disney pimped her up."

"I've known you for two hours and this is the second time I've heard you mention pimps or a deviation of."

"Pimp," Erika blurted. "Third time's a charm."

"So do I need to ask you what you saw three times too?"

"No," Erika said. "It's a personal choice of yours that only you can make for yourself."

"Suit yourself," the doctor said. "Then I guess that I can't tell you about what I was doing when you were sleeping…"

Erika bit her cheek.

"I have a proposition," Erika said. "You tell me what you did. I tell you later."

"Done," the doctor said.

Of course, Erika hadn't said when later was, now had she?

But it was story time anyways.


6

What you see

They could be cross-legged two teenage girls, sitting on a bed and gossipping at a sleepover, but no. It's a man and a young girl. But they are cross-legged on a bed. Also the man is arguably a teenage girl.

Erika couldn't believe it.

Apparently he'd used a Tardis ("not to be confused with a Tardif, based on what I understand") to time-travel and see the building's history. He'd seen blood shed on the grounds at the time when the Romans were still trying to conquer Brittania. He'd seen soldiers torn inside by war do horrible things (which he wouldn't elaborate on) and children cowering in basements as bombs fell during the Blitz.

Erika wondered what these "horrible things" were. She nearly asked him if he'd gone back to the bathrrom six months ago, but held her tongue.

"Nothing alien is ever here," the doctor said. "So I have no idea what in the world is releasing all this energy, or affecting you."

"I think you need to figure it out soon," Erika said. "Before Madam Murray and Dr Timmons get me locked up."

"Me? I need to figure it out?" the doctor asked, surprised.

"When you got here, your papers said that you were help," Erika said. "From what I can tell, the papers either tell someone what they want or what they need."

"You bright girl. It's all about what they want to see- well done," the doctor said. "So you want my help, Erika Tardis?"

"Tardif."

"Same thing," he said. "It doesn't really matter, though. I can't say no."


7

What you see

Several educators and a young man with wild hair holding down a screaming, shouting girl onto an infirmary bed. She finally calms down. Most of the educators return to their usual positions. The man stays.

"Bit of a nightmare?" he asked.

"I don't know," Erika said. "My head hurts. It's a symptom of-"

"A symptom of some mental disorder which you don't have, I'm sure," the doctor said. "So. What could it be?"

"More of that energy from earlier?" Erika asked.

"Possibly," the doctor said. He took his screwdriver out. "In the mood for a midnight stroll?"


8

What you see

Not a midnight stroll. A girl sitting on a chair in the middle of an old hallway peppered with identical doors and layered in dust.

"I was told that strolling included walking."

"I'm walking," he said walking around her, his screwdriver buzzing.

"Why am I sitting?" Erika asked nervously.

"Well clearly this little energy tumour we have on our hands is attracted or tied to you in some way," the doctor said. "Figure out the some way and we've figured out our problem."

"You mean it'll go away?" Erika said. "I'll stop hallucinating?"

"You're not hallucinating, you're seeing something that nobody else can see- but yes, theoretically once this energy tumour is stopped, you most likely won't be affected anymore."

"I won't be crazy anymore," Erika said.

"You never were," the Doctor said. He said it like Dr Timmons might, so Erika wasn't convinced.

"So I sit here and..? It stars rainning gumballs?"

"No," the Doctor said. "You sit here and we wait for the energy tumour to come to you."

"Why will it come to me here specifically?" Erika asked.

"Because this hallways has history," the Doctor said.

"How do you know?" Erika said. "What did you see in your Tardis?"

"Nothing much," the Doctor said. "What's about to happen here is much more interesting."

Erika gnawed on her lip, bitterly accepting his nonanswer and the silence that followed as they waited.

"Should I go get a ouija board?" she finally asked.

"You have a ouija board?"

"Everybody has one laying around," Erika said.

"I don't think ouija boards work on anything other than ghosts," the doctor said.

Erika bit her tongue.

"But it's not a bad idea. We do need something to… speed things up…"

"Like coffee," Erika said yawning.

"You're too young to drink coffee."

"You're too old not to have a ouija board somewhere in your supersized Tardis."

His eyes glazed over and he started rambling about magnets and currents and something or other, He told her to wait for a second.

"Where are you going?" Erika asked.

"Tardis. I think I have something helpful if I just rewire some of the wires that were rewired when I- long story, stay put, I meant it."

With that he sped off and, once again, Erika noticed the quiet and the desolate. The grey and the webs. The dark and the cold.

She swallowed and leaned back in her chair. He'd be back in a second. And, anyways, this particular part of the home was a wing, abandoned for the monetary benefits of having less room to warm, cool and maintain. Nobody was ever in here.

Except something very interesting that the Doctor had seen while time-traveling...

She closed her eyes. It wasn't like she'd see it too, right? The squeeze in her throat was just a trick of her mind- it was just the dust, nothing worst. And she was hearing normal sounds of old houses at night- creaking, groaning, wind whistling, gun shots, people screaming, the thuds of falling bodies, people yelling orders, explosions…

Her eyes opened- just a crack. Barely a peak.

But it was enough to send her spiralling again. She was seized by vertigo. Nevertheless she got up -in the hopes of backing up, you see- but she tripped and fell. Badly, too- you knew that you sucked when you did something bad badly. So badly that you sprained your wrist. She screamed in pain which was the wrong thing to do. It drew their attention. They came towards her, hands raised, teeth beared, eyes angry…

She screamed and picked up the chair, ready to defend herself. She backed up. Cornered herself against a door handle, some pieces of the ceiling and plaster dust fell from the ceiling when she bumped. Struggled to open said door. Got stuck. Screamed. Swung the chair. Once it was taken from her she pawed and kicked and screamed some more because really screaming might not do much but it couldn't be pleasant and being unpleasant was better than nothing.

Until she realised that she wasn't fighting hallucinations anymore, she was pawing at half the personnel.


9

What you see

A girl slumped in a bed. Adults surrounding.

"That wing is forbidden."

"She could have hurt herself."

"It could have been horrible."

"Lucky that she screamed."

"Broke Rita's nose when we restrained her, could have done worst."

"More than a danger to herself."

"I agree. It's time to take action."

"I have secured a new location for her," Dr Timmons said. "The institution itself is quite new, but the personnel is very experienced. Saint Luke's Psychiatric Ward in Lodon. They have a shining new ward for children- Erika will be very well cared for. Perhaps you've heard about it, Dr Smith."

"I have," the Doctor who was sitting on Erika's bed as opposed to standing with the grown-ups, said.

"Then really there's no complaint," Dr Timmons said. "I will arrange for her to be picked up in the morning so that she can be further accessed and properly treated as soon as possible."


10

What you see

A man waking up a girl in a room dark, save for a patch of lamp light.

"Erika… Erika… Teeny Tiny Human… Erika Tardis."

"What?" she grumbled.

"Even in your sleep you're picky about that one," he muttered.

"What happened?"

Then she remembered and sat up straight.

"Are they-"

"No, they're not here," the doctor said. "I checked with the sonic. Whatever it is that's scaring you, that's appearing only to you, is gone."

"It never appears on the sonic," Erika said weakly. "Either your equipment's busted or I am."

"Or it's not here," Doctor said. "That's what I think is happening, but I have little to no time to prove it. They're taking you to a hospital in London in the morning."

"You didn't tell them no?" She shrieked. Her heart would have beat a thousand miles an hour in nerves and panic if she weren't so exhausted. Her two 'moments' a day had worn her out. Her eyes were tired, her mind more so. Ever her limbs felt stiff and unused.

"No, of course not. I have to go with it, they think I'm a doctor. A real one. I had to stay close to you."

"Is that why you have my medical record out on the side table?" Erika asked.

"I think Dr Timmons expected it to help me," the doctor said. "He gave it to me yesterday, but I only got around to reading it now. Better late than never, you know?"

"Better late than never," Erika said.

"You don't look convinced."

"It doesn't matter," Erika said. "I'm mentally unstable. I'm a loose cannon. I… what do they think I was doing in that ward?"

He was quiet, but he definitely knew.

"Oh God," Erika said running her hands through her hair. "I'm broken, aren't I?"

"No you're not, Erika."

"I am," she said tugging on her curls. "I am, I am, I am- or else this wouldn't happen."

"The problem is the energy tumour, not you. The only reason is why you specifically and what does the energy want to do exactly. It doesn't appear to be remotely harmful… just little golden specs really..." He was rambling but Erika's hands were twisting together as she gnawed her lip.

"I'm broken," Erika said. "It runs in my family, doesn't it? My mother… was a druggie or something, wasn't she? Did she break me before I was even born? She definitely didn't want me, did she?"

"No, no, no. Erika. Erika. Listen to me Teeny Tiny Human. I… I can't promise to you that your mother want you or that she was a good or healthy person. But this- your file, it doesn't say anything about her. Actually your file is rather empty, but they still managed to make a mistake."

"And what's that?" Erika asked.

"It calls you Nancy Tardif."

"That's not wrong," she said. "Erika's my middle name. Nancy was my mum's, so they gave it to me when she died. She told a nurse that it was my great-grandpa's mum's name or something and it's been in the family since."

The pieces slid together like a neatly finished puzzle. Everything was already placed. That was the only thing missing.

My great-grandpa's mum.

Great-gandpa's Nancy.

Jamie's Nancy.

Are you my mummy?

Jamie I am your mumy.

Jamie I am your Nancy.

Are you my mommy?

Jamie I am your Nancy.

Are you my mummy?

Where is my mummy?

Mummy.

Where is my mummy.

I want my mummy.

"Oh that's brilliant," he said breathlessly.

"I didn't think it was such a great name. That's why I go by Erika."

"But really, really bad..." he continued.

"It could be worst," Erika said. "I could be a Margaret. God, I hate the name Margaret, doesn't it sound like a floral couch looks?"

"No, not that…" the doctor said. "Things are going to get way worst for you Erika, way worst. And I dont know when and I don't know how but…"

He took off running about the infirmary, locking the windows, yanking on the curtains, sonicking at the vents.

"Why?" Erika asked.

"Because you're more broken than ever," he said.

"What?" Erika said. "You've been telling me nonstop ever since you met me that I wasn't-"

"Broken. That you aren't broken. Yes, Erika, I know- you're not broken, but the world is. But it's so hard to fix the world that instead we try to fix people or- or they try to fix people."

"They? Who's they?"

"Those who fixed Jamie," the Doctor said. "All those years and regenerations ago.. I didn't even think to check did I?"

"Who fixed who?"

"Jamie- a little boy, he was about six or seven, give or take, during the Blitz. Oh, it doesn't matter! You'll see," the Doctor said. "You have to go back."

"Back to where?"

"Back to the wing, Erika. Back to the wing where you saw whatever it is you see. Now."

"Back to-"

The lights whirled.

"No!" Erika said grabbing the doctor's arm. Her throat seized. Her sense of balance left her and she wobbled, leaning into him.

"Now, now," the Doctor said. "It's, it's going to be…"

She saw something in his pocket. A newspaper article with a familiar headline.

"That…" she said looking into his pocket. "This is what you put in your pocket earlier, in the basement. What you didn't want to show me. Did you try and… hide the article about Ruth and Dan from me?" Erika asked, devastated.

"Ruth and Dan?" The doctor asked. Erika swung her legs off of the infirmary bed. Anger pushed through her vertigo and she got up and grabbed the scrap of newspaper from his pocket.

"The two kids who got adopted by serial killers a few years ago, before all the new laws and screenings. Is that what you found? What you were so adament about not showing me? Unbelievable."

"Erika…"

"You call me a Teeny Tiny Human. You tell me I'm too young to drink coffee, you stay by me, watch over me all the time, flinch when I swear. You're babying me, protecting me- but all from things that I already know. It's no use anymore, you're a bit late for that. Very late, actually. Because I know about those two dead kids, I knew them. And that girl who slit her wrists in the shower, by the way? She died- it wasn't a suicide atempt, she literally killed herself and Jennie or Ellie who found her with me was eight years old, and tomorrow I'm moving into a psychiatric hospital for the rest of my life. Small doesn't mean innocent anymore, Doctor. It just means small."

He looked stunned and she maintained her glare. If she could shoot more vennom in his direction, she totally would but she was drained and tired and maybe a small part of her temper knew that he didn't deserve it.

"What was the girl's name, Erika?" the Doctor said after a while. "The one who bled out in the shower?"

"Florence," Erika said. Her head ache came back, accompanied by the vertigo. She tripped but caught herself on another bed. "That shower's always empty in the morning. Nobody goes in it anymore."

"Not even you?"

"No."

"Why not?" the Doctor asked. "You're right; I haven't been honnest with you. I'm sorry. Be a better person and tell me. Why is that shower empty?"

Erika gulped. She squeezed her eyes shut and her head throbbed in response.

"Is it because she's there, Erika? Because Florence is still in that shower, as if she's still bleeding out?"

Erika didn't respond.

"Is Florence here right now, Erika?" the Doctor asked. "Is she in this room?"

"No. Not her, not here." Erika said, teeth clenched.

"But you do see her sometimes. The hallucinations…"

"They're dead," Erika said. "Dead people. Always."

"Brilliant," the Doctor said. "Brilliant!"

"How is that brilliant!" Erika nearly screamed. "I see dead people! That's the measure of my crazy that's-"

"Normal," the Doctor said. "Completely normal. But you have to follow me Erika; you have to follow me now before they get desperate."

"Before who gets desperate?"

"The chula," the Doctor said breathlessly, eyes wide and shinning with renewed energy. "The tiny nanogenes used as medical equipment by higher breeds. The ones that took the template of a dead child wearing a mask, and brought your great-grandfather back to life during the Blitz on London."


11

What you see

A man dragging a girl in plain cotton pajamas down a decayed hallway. Her curls bounce as she runs. Her eyes are wide and terrified.

"I don't like this idea!" Erika said. "Didn't I nearly kill an educator with my bare hands last time I was here?"

"Yes, that's why we didn't bring them," the Doctor said guiding her to the exact spot where she'd had her last 'moment'.

"I am not going through that again!"

"Oh, come on Erika!" the Doctor said. "Sit down and fix yourself!"

"What?"

"The chula are tiny little robots that buzz into your system and fix you up as long as they know how you're supposed to work," the Doctor said. "I met a boy brought back to life by them-"

"Jamie."

"Right."

"And you think he's my great grandfather or something?"

"I do," the Doctor said. "I really, really do."

"How? Why?"

"That's besides the point," the Doctor said. "Most of the Chula left the planet after they healed Jamie but if some of them stayed behind -if a single one of them stayed behind with Jamie and duplicated itself-, they might be a literal part of a your family's genetic makeup now- you may have chula nanobots in your genes."

"So?" Erika asked, her migraine completely stopping her from thinking clearly.

"So the chula try to regularise everything," the Doctor said. "Fix people, make them normal. And you know what's not normal about you, Erika?"

"The fact that I see dead people?"

"No," the Doctor said. "Before that. What's so not normal about you that I made a huge mistake and overlooked it."

Erika blinked.

"The fact that there are dead people for me to see?" She ventured. "The fact that I'm abandoned. Alone."

"Exactly!" the Doctor said circling Erika's chair. "Now, the Chula- they want you to be normal and happy, that's what they want- they're the nicer kind of bots. And for you that means- that means…"

"Giving me a family," Erika said. "Getting me out of this place."

"Boom," the Doctor said. "But they can't exactly do that, they don't know your family. So instead they give you everything else that they can find and show you. They show you the energy waste of dead humans-"

"Energy waste?"

"You humans need to give yourselves a little credit," the Doctor said. "You're complex and massively important in your little slots of universe. Do you think you leave nothing behind when you die? It's like you know nothing of energy transfer."

"So I see ghosts?" Erika asked meakly.

"Technically they're energy deposits transfered from-"

"Ghosts," Erika breathed. "I see ghosts."

"Well, you saw ghosts," the Doctor said. "Now you're being overwhelmed by them- as things get worst, like Florence dying, they make you see more to try and compensate, which makes things worse since you start thinking you're losing your mind…"

"A vicious circle," Erika said. "So how do I get rid of them?"

"Well," the Doctor said. "I could stimulate them with a shock from the sonic or I could superdrive the electric circuits of the room with the cables in the Tardis- yes that would do it- but really it all comes down to the same thing."

"Which is what?" Erika asked.

The Doctor took his screwdriver out of his inside pocket and slammed his thumb on (what Erika was assuming) was the on switch.

"You dacing your ghosts."


12

A girl on a chair yelling something along the lines of "Fuck you what about treatment consent?" A bright light.

The sound was like an airplane taking off behind Erika's head. She clamped her hands over her ears and winced, hunching herself up like Quasimodo. Erika had been coiling from bright lights and shutting her eyes at loud noises for weeks- this was some pretty serious overkill. The Doctor yelled over the noise.

"Come on, Erika! You Teeny Tiny Human, you! Look at them! Look at your ghosts! If you look at them, if you're okay with them, they'll go away!"

"No they won't!" Erika yelled back. "They're ghosts! Ghosts are already dead, they're already supposed to have left!"

"But you still needed someone!" the Doctor said. "So there they are! But now they're not being hidden by your genes or the chula programming, Erika. It's you! It's all you! Open your eyes and look at them. Face them. Know that you'll be alright!"

"But I-" the words were stuck in Erika's throat. "But will I?"

"Not if you don't think so!" the Doctor said. "This is all you, Tardis girl! When I met you, you thought I was help- but really I'm no hero, I'm not slaying anything. I'm just a spectator. You can take care of yourself!"

Since the prospect completely terrified her, she caught onto the detail.

"Tar-DIF!" She shouted back.

"See? You always put me in my place. Now stand up to yourself! Stand up to those genes of yours!"

Erika couldn't breathe. She was just about to panic when she felt fingers -very warm and alive fingers- touch her cheek.

"Open your eyes."

"They were kids that I once knew," Erika whispered. "They're dead. I shouldn't know them anymore."

"Then send them away. Send them away and everything will be better. Yes?"

"You promise?" Erika asked.

"You bet, Tardis girl. I pinky promise."

"Pinky promise?" Erika laughed.

"Isn't that what you kids do?" the Doctor asked. "Or wrong millenial?"

"No," Erika said. "Us kids are a little busy saving the world."

She opened her eyes.


13

What she sees

The room flashes as if it can't settle on a decor. Cobwebs appeared in a corner like dusty lace only to dissapear a second later. Same goes for loose floorboards, invading greenery, sheats of dust, footprints, stones, trees, other objects… All of the history of the area around her pushed itself for a second of prime time in her eyes while they focused on something else entirely.

The people doing the same.

There were scratchy woolen uniforms and furs grossly sewn together. There were buckled boots and strappy leather sandals. There was the obnoxious smell of gunpowder and the rush of fresh air in her nose. There were faces belonging to insane soldiers that had been defiled and torn during the first world war, sometimes accompanied with even more terrifying prosthetics. There were ancient tribes of gruffy anglo-saxons crumbling under the weight of sun, wind and heavy clothing looking at her meanly. But most importantly, there were the kids that she once knew.

Their faces flickered on and off but every time it was like they got closer, bloodier, scruffier, more… cold eyed. Dead eyed. Empty.

But they were kids she knew. Ruth and Dan -with the same mouth shape and curls, except Ruth's eyes were way bigger and Dan was scrawny as fuck.

Florence was possibly the worst. She was in her Sunday best, the pretty white dress with the ribbon around the waist that she only touched when they went to Church on Christmas and Easter. Except now it was as soaked and bloodstained as the shower floor had been. Her hair was flat and wet, sticking to her bare body which was all diamond-sharp collarbones and pale skin that probably hadn't been fed in a while anyways.

Her hair was curly and she smiled the movie star smile that could have landed her in a family.

Her mouth was an empty pit and her eyes replaced by rotting sockets.

Things changed, quicker than Erika's heart could beat- possibly why it couldn't keep up.

Florence stretched out her arm. As she unfolded her fingers, as if holding out her hand in invitation, the flesh melted off to show bone and muscle before forming again, bit by bit and spot by spot. She couldn't hold back her scream once Florence's neck started twisting at gruesome angles.

She screamed.

"Erika, Erika!" the Doctor said. "Stay focused!"

"She's dead!" Erika screamed.

"That was previously established," the Doctor said.

"Why can I see her? Weren't things bad enough?" Erika said. She nearly sobbed. Guilt overtook her. She was complaining, but she hadn't killed herself had she?

"They were Erika, remember?" the Doctor said. "They were and you're still here. The nanobots- they're tying to help. Help yourself Erika, don't lose focus!"

Erika looked at Florence, Dan, Ruth, the faces she didn't have names for or words to describe.

How did she get rid of them?

Did she want to get rid of them?

Yes. The dead were supposed to be dead. She'd been an orphan since birth and had straightened out the principles of life and death a long time ago- it was the only way to stay sane.

And all at once she realised that she was the reason that they were alive. That Ruth's limp, cancerously black tongue was hanging from her mouth and that her eyes were rolling into the back of her head. That Dan's skin was peeling off like layers of skin after a long bath. That Florence's bones were flashing through her skin, raw and unnaturally -nearly pearly- white.

They were here to be her family, according to the little nanobots bunking in her DNA. They were here to fix her up. To take her out of a bad situation.

And the only way they'd go was if...

"Doctor," Erika said. That simple word made her head spin- she couldn't focus on the ongoing changes and talk at the same time.

"Yes Erika?"

"You need to promise me something," she said.

"And what's that?" he asked.

"If I make the ghosts of energy pockets or hallucinations or whatever go away," Erika said.

She lost her breath and nearly toppled but he caught her. She slumped against him, too weak to move. Florence stroked her hair. She would have screamed again but the Doctor was solid, his grip was tight enough to be comforting and lose enough to be comfortable. The perfect in-between grip.

"If I do that," Erika said. "You have to take me out of here."

"Out of the home?"

"Yes. Out, out, out." Erika said. She nearly lost her breath. "You need to show me new planets and weird times and introduce me to new people. You need to help me. You have to. Will you?"

"Yes Erika."

He said something but she blanked. Florence's fingers were talons, instead of stroking her hair they dug in the soft pressure point between her neck and shoulder.

"I will take you out of this home."

The nails grew and dented Erika's skin.

"I will be there for you."

Erika screamed and the nails only got sharper.

"I will make you a new home."

The nails were gone. Florence was gone. Ruth and Dan were gone. The changing scenes were gone.

The ghosts had been faced.


14

What she sees

Tall buildings, old cars, fancy dresses and a thousand shades of grey and metal.

"New York," he grumbled. "New York. All of space and time and you pick New York."

Erika pushed the sunglasses off her nose. "I'm running away. New York seemed like the logical next step."

"You're not running away," the Doctor said.

"Try to tell that to my hormonal cortex who's socially constructed to romanticise everything with or without a pulse," Erika said. "Or else tell me that I've been kidnapped and I'll just start mourning my stolen innoncence now."

"I'll add that to the to-do list," the Doctor said. "And you were not kidnapped."

It was true. Technically she had been admitted to Dr. John Smith's private clinic for observation and personalised treatment plans.

This exactly proved Erika's point that technicalities were stupid.

"Do you feel uncomfortable with the fact that you're dragging a minor under the state's care around time and space?" Erika teased.

"No. Now for the last time, can you please take off your sunglasses? Those haven't been invented yet."

"Prove it."

"Don't you think you've seen enough of the Roaring Twenties to know that?" the Doctor asked.

"Nope," Erika said popping her 'p'. That was just an excuse to get into another one of the period dresses stashed in the Tardis.

"Shame," the Doctor said. "The Satellites of Gahmesh are perfectly alined at this time of the year."

"You have a Tardif. The time of the year doesn't matter."

"It's a Tardis, excuse you."

"Now you know how I feel," Erika said.

The doctor grinned. "Seriously though. Satellites of Gamesh?"

"You had me at 'the'," Erika said. "Just one thing."

"What?"

"Do they wear sunglasses on Gamesh?"

"No. And the humans aren't teeny tiny either."


The end

21:42 / 23/02/2014