(A/N) OK well this isn't my first story but it is my first Doctor Who fanfic so please don't kill. I am really sorry if there're any errors on the page I'm Dyslexic so although I have used spell check and proofread i still may have swapped 'there's' for example. Apologies. *Deep breth* here we go.
Reality
Here we go again.
"Interesting" The Doctor was leaning over the centre of the TARDIS, an old fashioned magnifying glass held tightly in his hand. "It seems to be a cross between..." He trailed off but did not move or even look up. This had been going on for too long for him to even rebuke himself for talking to thin air. It had been at least a month since he had left Donner, this unknown to her of course and he had not only been running from the loss but also from the pain that was always seemed to be hovering, ready to engulf him if he ever stopped. He suddenly felt eyes on him as if someone was watching him, well someone other then the TARDIS who he could feel looking over him sometimes. He looked up cautiously. He always trusted his instincts in cases like these even though he knew no one could infiltrate his box without him knowing. There was no one there and the Doctor sighed, feeling the hope he had subconsciously grabbed hold of slip through his fingers.
The TARDIS gave a load rumble, breaking him from his thoughts. He gave her a questioning look, "What is it girl?" He asked taking of his glasses and placing a gentle but firm hand on the consol. Almost in reply she gave a sudden lurch, pushing him backwards onto the chair he had installed a lifetime ago. His brow furrowed as he held on, desperately trying to reach a lever on the other side of the consol with his foot. His converses just managed to graze it when the TARDIS jolted to a halt, throwing him to the floor. Rising cautiously, just in case she decided to take off again, he reached for the built in screen. "What was that for?" he asked the machine, trying to sound angry. He pushed and prodded the wide variety of controls in front of him but got no answer. "OK I'm biting," he said with a sigh whilst walking towards the door, his heart not really in it but he stopped before opening it and gave into the grin that was forming, made of the excitement, expectation and fear that always filled him in these moments. He opened it suddenly and swept through.
The sun was shining for the first time in what seemed like forever in Padstow. It bathed the streets in light and reflected of the water droplets, which had fallen just moments before, making the ground shimmer. It had been a long, hard winter but not even the new sun could light up the shadow that was permanently fixed over her heart. She stared out the window, her head resting of her upturned hand as her bright blue eyes stared off into space. She had been told only this morning that she had another new shrink. They had been handing her from one to the other since this had all begun and she had begun to tire of it.
"When do you go to him?"
She sighed, another one that couldn't read.
"Look you must have read my file so you must know the answers to these stupid questions that I have been asked a million times before."
The man sitting opposite her didn't seem fazed by her sudden outburst but she supposed he was used to 'difficult children.'
"It's not just about what you say, Karen, it's about how you say it." She didn't really know what he meant but didn't question him, just continued to look out the window, almost wishing he would come now. She knew he wouldn't though, she knew that he never came to her but she went to him.
"Mostly at night, but it can be anytime." She answered shrugging one shoulder.
"How often do you know your dreaming?"
"Depends how deep it is, nearly always when it's faint but like all dreams the more real it feels the more real it is."
"Are the trigger points helping at all?"
She knew what she was supposed to say, that they worked and that they have been helping her control it but only she knew that she hadn't tried them very much at all. Who would want to wake up?
"Yer, when I know I'm dreaming I can stop it."
"but you never want to."
Startled, she looked up causing a strand of thick black hair to escape from behind her ear. She studied the man across from her for the first time. He was quite small, height wise, but broad shouldered with smartly cut hair which was ruffled back from his forehead to give access to piercing green eyes. She held his gaze for a few moments before sighing and turning back to the window again – who cares if he thinks I'm anymore of a psycho then he does already?
"No." She answered bluntly.
"Is there nothing worth living for?"
He made it sound like it was a form of suicide or something but in a way it was, and she knew it. The last time she had stayed too long she had been comatose for two days straight, in reality. In fantasy he was having his heart broken all over again and she had wanted to stay, just in case he felt somewhat comforted by her presents. She stayed silent.
He followed her lead as the minuets ticked by before asking another question.
"How much do you remember of your parents Karen?"
She sighed, it always came back to this and it always hurt the same, no matter how many times they were mentioned there was still that dull ache in her heart every time. It used to be worse, the pain, it used to be constant, until he came.
"Flashes, here and there they tend to fade quicker though."
"Which is stronger, the fantasy or the reality?" She looked round at him with deep blue eyes almost boring into him.
"There both as real." She answered shortly with a sharp edge to her voice.
"In your 'flashes' do your parents see you?" She sighed, knowing what was coming, but nodded any way.
"Why do you think he doesn't?" and there it was, the question she had pondered over since he had first appeared. It had always been the same; she had always just been looking on, never a physical part of the adventure, the love, the loss. It had been what had puzzled the psychiatrists the most; why create a make-believe world and not be a part of it?
"I wish I knew." She whispered, trying to keep the tears that were threatening at bay.
That was the one thing that she waited for, wished for, and lived for; The Doctor to notice her.
