Chapter 1
Okay so to start off I don't own Doctor Who, but Elizabeth/Ava is of my own creation. Most of the aliens of this fanfiction are owned by Doctor Who except the Reichlon virus. I created that. Anyway this is my first fanfiction EVER, but I've had some experience through reading my best friend's. This is also my first time posting my writing online so I would love your reviews and opinions! There's always room to improve, right? Therefore always be completely honest, and don't sugarcoat anything! I love to write, and always strive for a chance at making my writing better! I hope you enjoy!
"Hold on I know I have enough money," I state, digging through my tattered, cotton pouch for the sixty seven cents I need.
"Miss Whitaker I don't have all day. Do you have the money or not?" Mr. Jackson huffs.
"I am so sorry. Just another moment please," I plead.
"Rose! Stop you're going to make me-" Before I can even step out of the way I am sent sprawling to the floor, my little change purse flying across the hardwood floor.
"Excuse me miss. I am so sorry. See what ya did Rose?" The man apologizes taking my hand. A young blonde woman behind him giggles, and apologizes too.
"No, it is fine. Now where is my change purse?" I assure, brushing off the skirt of my royal blue gown.
"Oh right. Sorry about that too," he responds with a thick British accent. We search along the floor, and find the contents spilled out across the store. We both start snatching up the pennies, dimes, and nickels. Then all of a sudden he freezes. He fingers my pocket watch, running his fingers over the intricate designs on the metal top.
"Where did you get this?" He asks in a serious tone. His face remains straight and emotionless as he toys with the watch.
"I don't know. I-" I start.
"I need to know where you got this watch from. Think," he interrupts. Taken aback by his bluntness, I shrug my shoulders.
"That's the thing I do not know where I got it. I have had it for as long as I can remember."
"Come with me. I need to speak with you alone," he urges, yanking me from the floor. I stuff the rest of my belongings into the pouch, and follow behind him.
"Wait what about my purchases?" I remind as he pulls me toward the door. He sighs, and returns to the counter. He slams a twenty down on the wood, and grabs the gray, cotton fabric.
"Keep the change," he calls, dragging me out the door. He tugs me along the dirt road, his lady friend trailing behind.
"Sir, may I ask where you got all that money? You must be rich beyond belief to be able to spend twenty dollars on fabric worth only $1.25," I inquire.
"Not important. Now what is important is this watch that you possess," he disregards, turning into a damp alley.
"Sir, I don't recall you mentioning your name either."
"Not relevant. Now where are you parents?" He orders. He wears a chocolate brown pin stripe suit, a white collared shirt, and a matching brown tie. Strange.
"I will say once you reveal you're name to me," I demand crossing my arms.
"The Doctor. Now would you please tell me where your mum and dad are," he answers in an aggravated tone.
"You're joking, right? You're name cannot be The Doctor," I reason with a laugh.
"No, it really is. Trust me. Now your parents?" The woman answers for the first time. Her bleach blonde hair is tied back into a bun, and she dons a hideous green dress.
"Well, I am an orphan. My parents died when I was young. I've lived in the Gettysburg Orphanage ever since. But please do not tell Mrs. Carmichael that I spoke with you. She does not like us talking to anyone," I beg.
"Don't worry I won't tell her. Now what is your name?" he questions with a soft smile.
"Elizabeth Whitaker."
"Okay, Elizabeth. Come walk with me. There are things I need to tell you," he lures, gesturing me to follow him.
"As interesting as that sounds I will have to decline. Mrs. Carmichael will have a fit if I am home late. I do not wish to travel down that path."
"Oh I'm sure you can be a few minutes late. After all you are with The Doctor," He reassures.
"Okay." He holds out his arm, and I hesitantly take it. We begin to walk, but just as he is about to speak we turn around to see Rose following us.
"Rose, I need to speak with Elizabeth." She nods and smiles, but does not budge. "Alone," he emphasizes. She shakes her head, and blushes.
"Of course. Meet me by the TARDIS, yeah?"
"Yeah." She scurries off in the other direction, her atrocious dress billowing behind her. "Now that we are completely alone how old are you, Elizabeth?"
"15 as of last week," I retort, looking around anxiously. If Mrs. Carmichael found out I was dallying with a man twice my age I would get the beating of a lifetime.
"Now do you remember what happened to your parents? Anything at all?" The Doctor continues.
"Nothing much, just that it was very dark, but all of a sudden it got bright. Besides that I know nothing," I repeat.
"And you're sure that you don't remember anything about the watch either?" He persists.
"All I know is that it was my parents' watch. My mother gave it to me when I was little. Nothing beyond that. Why are you so curious anyway? It's just a pocket watch, and I am just a poor orphan with nothing." The Doctor looks away at the ground, shaking his head. He then looks to the watch and begins examining it carefully.
"Impossible. Simply unbelievable," he breathes.
"It's a pocket watch. What's so fascinating?" I ask.
"Have you ever opened it?"
"No, it's broken. Luckily I never have had to use it. Doctor, it is only a pocket watch I tell you. Nothing more," I insist.
"No, this is not just a fob watch. It is your fob watch. It's not broken either. Now you're going to think I'm completely mad, but listen to what I tell you. You are like me," the Doctor begins.
"Well, of course you are like me, Doctor. What else could you or I be?" I laugh, but his face remains serious.
"No that is the thing we are not human. We are the last of our kind. Our people were wiped out after the Last Great Time War. The war was fought between the Daleks and the Time Lords, and the Time Lords were completely annihilated. I was the only one to survive, well except for you. You, Elizabeth Whitaker, are not who you think you are. You and I are the last of the Time Lords," he blurts out. I stop a moment, and burst out laughing.
"Doctor, you really got me there for a moment. You really had me hanging on to every word. Now really tell me what you mean," I giggle. He stands there dumbfounded before turning to stand in front of me. He holds my face in his hands, and looks me dead in the eyes. His medium brown eyes bore into me, and his lips form a somber line across his face.
"Listen to me. I know it is difficult to believe me, but you've got to. That fob watch you have is not a regular fob watch. It disguises you as a human. You forgot who you really are, and where you came from. When you open the watch it reveals to you your true identity, and then you can return to your true form. Your mother told you not to open it because she wanted to protect you from the Daleks. She sent you away into hiding so that you could live. You are the last of my people." I wrench myself free of his grasp, and I begin to quiver uncontrollably.
"I don't know who you are, and what kind of awful trick you're playing on me, but I am done being a pawn in your chess game, Doctor. You are obviously a lunatic and could use some professional help. Now I best be off to the orphanage, Mrs. Carmichael will be waiting for me. Goodbye," I snap, snatching my pocket watch from his palm. I start to walk away, leaving him stranded in the middle of the field we meandered into. The bending grass laps at my ankles, but a familiar voice stops me in my tracks.
"Elizabeth Alexandria Whitaker. You're not going back to the orphanage. Not yet at least. You are planning on taking a detour to your lover's house. Jonathon Delmont, yeah? Handsome bloke." he states. I spin around, mouth gaping open. My cheeks turn rosy pink, and I tuck a loose strand of raven black hair behind my ear.
"How…did-" I stammer. He points to his head.
"I can see everything, from before the earth to beyond its death. That and I saw you and him outside his house earlier. No matter. Now about that watch…" The Doctor drawls. I finger the familiar metal.
"This is completely and utterly foolish, but I'll open the watch on one condition, and one condition only. When nothing happens-" I reply confidently.
"If nothing happens, which something will," he mutters under his breath.
"When nothing happens I want you to leave this town, and never come back. Am I clear?"
"Crystal. Now get on with it," he urges. I lick my dry, cracked lips and close my eyes. Nothing will happen. Just remember. Nothing will happen. He is just a madman. My pulse quickens, as I pull the lid back to reveal the face. I feel a jolt within my body, and my head flies backward. Electricity runs through my veins as memories come flooding back to me; my mother and father's faces, the Daleks running rampant all over Gallifrey, thousands of Time Lords perishing before they could properly regenerate. I was so young, and I could see the pain in my parents' eyes as they looked at the world around them. The peaceful land of Gallifrey where nothing could go wrong, that's what I used to think when I was a child. Stories of the brave Time Lords conquering everything they set out to do. That was until my mother cried for hours that horrible day in our history. Her parents had died trying to defend Gallifrey from the oncoming Daleks. There were no more stories after that. They only reminded her that as strong and brave as we are, we can die. We can die just like the Daleks we killed. They were so hollow so detached from what they were doing to our people. Not caring that our species was dying out. I wanted them all to die. I never felt that way before. I wanted them all dead. Slow painful deaths. I snap back to reality. The Doctor takes the watch from my hand, and gives me a small smile.
"Now come on we can talk more in my TARDIS. You'll be astonished; she's a real beauty, very modern," he laughs yanking me toward the town. I stand there a blank expression lingers on my face. I look straight ahead, not able to utter a single word, a syllable.
"Elizabeth, are you okay?" he questions cautiously. I scream and scream no, but my mouth doesn't flinch. I will myself to speak, to make any kind of sound, but silence. My head buzzes with memories and thoughts, that can't possibly be processed and filed away at the rate at which they keep circulating.
"Elizabeth, say something!" The world becomes fuzzy and blurry. The colors melt into each other, and they begin to swirl and spin around me. I feel myself falling. Falling into the unknown. Then darkness.