A/N: This has been incredibly, very hard for me to publish. But Jane has been in my head for so long I had to get her out. Also, as a disclaimer, I realized after naming her that Jane Foster also happens to be the romantic interest in Thor... I swear it ended up coincidental. Bear with me on this story. i have great things planned! Also I'm American...so for Brit readers, have mercy. Drop me any terms or slang I miss or misuse in my reviews! Jane is mine but the Doctor-verse is not... Enjoy!

Chapter One: The Oncoming Storm

London, November 23, 1936

Fourteen-year-old Jane Foster sat in her corner, her niche, her own place in the universe. It was night now. The nurses had made their evening rounds but she could still hear him, the repetitious muttering of the man in the cell next to her, his voice drifting through the plaster. Batty Barty they called him. His voice was scratchy and horse but he kept using it, rattling off senseless numbers and half driving Jane mad herself. Well. More mad than they already claimed she was.

Jane huddled, pressing herself against the stone window. Two years she had been here, since her mother had given her up "for the best" to the care of the doctors and nurses. To the incessant poking and prodding, the tests, the pointless, tiring tests to see the limits of her abilities. Jane shut her eyes for a moment, the swirling of emotions in her not her own, bubbling over and bringing fresh pricks of tears to her eyes. A mental institution was no place for the likes of her, she knew it. There was nowhere she could go, to truly be alone and shut it all out. What she wouldn't give for a moment of peace.

Jane's brown eyes snapped open and she stared, at the tiny window she had in her room to the outside world. The windows had bars over them, from patients trying to shatter the windows in order to use the glass. But Jane could see, beyond the bars, beyond the glass.

There was a wide world out there beyond the confines of her cell.

Beyond London.

Beyond Europe.

Beyond Earth.

The stars.

Jane watched them twinkling, dancing in their freedom, their brilliance. In her dreams she was one of them, dancing with them in a whirl of a white dress shimmering like star dust. Perhaps someday. But not here, not this life.

Jane broke from her reverie, silently getting up from the window sill and trudging to the tiny hospital bed. She clutched her hospital gown around her pubescent body, just beginning to grow into a woman. Silently Jane crawled under the starch covers and reached to the bedside table. A piece of paper resided there, crumbly, covered with stains from two years of use. She picked up the pencil and added another tick mark to the 729 before them. She dropped the pencil, and rolled over before closing her eyes and letting Batty Barty's muffled muttering lull her to sleep. Two years. She had been in Our Lady for two years.

Happy birthday.

The sounds of an argument that didn't make sense were coming from the garden. Given her location it wasn't unusual but usually two people didn't share the same nonsensical argument, and for once it didn't sound like it was a patient with split personality. It was even surprising to hear voices, really. No one came out here on afternoons that storms were supposed to come. It rattled them too much. But Jane loved it, she loved walking through the gardens of Our Lady, surveying the graying skies and smelling the warmth, the moisture, the change in the winds. Excitement… She could smell it in the clouds, rattling with a storm.

But even still, despite the oncoming storm, it was a nice day, an average day.

Or was it?

"When I said one psychopath per TARDIS I didn't mean for you to whisk us off to a bloody nutter house."

"Always a critic." A male voice scoffed, "You know, you're beginning to make me regret letting you come along. Maybe I wanted us to come here, 1936, great year… Well, the Depression 'cross the way is a tad...depressing but if you can get past that…"

"Letting me? Really! You're the one who was all sad, moping about when you asked. I couldn't very well say no to those big weepy eyes. And you did not want to come here. Nobody wants to come here!"

Jane crept around a hedge, her cheeks coloring. In front of her was the strangest couple she had ever seen. A cross woman with hair in short dirty blonde and bushy ringlets stood unphased, gathering herself up to her fullest height to appear imposing but failing miserably against her companions height. She was pretty, but older, Jane would guess around her forties. The anger and stubbornness hit Jane like a brick wall causing her to nearly smile despite herself. The woman had spunk. She always liked spunk, even if it made her feel painfully shy in comparison. Spunky was not a word Jane would use to describe herself. Despite her mussing, Jane found the woman's taller companion to be in a word, mesmerizing…

"No reason to get cross over a misstep in our destination. Besides, always fancied a good mad house. Love mad people. Some are brilliant. Well, minus the actually mad ones." He turned during his rambling, rocking on his heels like an excited boy in front of a shop window except with a tad more flourish.

"Fine line for you, isn't it?" the woman sniffed.

And that was the moment he saw her. And she saw him.

The spunky woman turned, feeling the pause in the conversation and realizing that something else, unsurprisingly, had her husband's attention. What did surprise her was who, rather than what, that was.

Jane stared at the strange man in front of her. His hair was a mop of brown, seeming to flop in messy fringe over his sparkling green eyes. His face was expressive, all sharp angles of cheekbone and chin, admittedly handsome in a quirky way. His frame was tall, accentuated by his tweed suit jacket, red bowtie, braces and pants, adding together to give him a rather commanding presence.

Except… except.. except he was different. There was something about his emotions, the age in his eyes and the deathly darkness about them, the color of his swirling golden aura, that made Jane look twice. There were things about him that did not fit with his appearance. Something in him was not right.

"Right. Hello there." He said slowly, staring owlishly at the girl. She was young, pubescent, and wearing clothes a size too big for her. Standard issue, patient probably. She had a light path of freckles across her cheeks, pale skin and blonde hair that reached about mid arm. At first glance she seemed unremarkable, ordinary. But it was how she was looking at him, not in surprise, but in marvel, as if she could see the touch of the time vortex around him, that off set him. And there was that pull, a strange nagging tightening in his gut that made him feel aware of her, vaulting her from the category of ordinary into interesting, very interesting indeed. Who was she?

"Hello."

"I'm the Doctor and this is my cheeky assistant Doctor Song. And you are?"

"Doctor we need to go." The woman only replied, staring at Jane with a breath. He knew something was wrong when she didn't have a quip for his 'cheeky' comment. He glanced over at her and did a double take, seeing her face was as white as a paper sheet.

"I'm-"

"Lovely. Just…lovely." The woman named Doctor Song seemed to spit out, as if it was actually the farthest thing from lovely.

"Not lovely then?" the Doctor interjected curiously. River stared at him, something strange in her eye.

"First meeting. And I have to see it…" The Doctor continued staring at her expectantly, his eyebrows furrowing as the wheels in his head began to turn.

"Jane Foster, The Doctor. The Doctor, Jane. Now that the timeline's been established we can pick a new location, you can forget about this until you meet again, and we'll just be on our merry way." She reached up and grabbed the man known as the Doctor by the ear and began dragging him in the opposite direction, towards a wooden blue box standing on the opposite side of the clearing. Why were the police here and why would they need a box?

"Ow! River!"

"Wait, please! Who are you? How do you know my name?" Jane asked curiously, chasing after them a few steps.

The woman- Doctor Song or River- turned, her curls bristling as she tossed the stumbling Doctor in the direction of the box with a shove to the head. She raised a finger her green eyes burning, "You! You…You forget we were here. You do enough damage."

"River, what are you going on about? Who is she?" The Doctor asked, glancing over at Jane. He found himself a general good judge of character and he saw little harm that the teen girl could do. His interest continued to peak.

"Spoilers, sweetie." River spit out darkly, not taking her eyes off Jane. A commotion from the edge of the gardens drew Jane's attention away with a quick turn of her head. It was Batty Barty. He was screaming, yelling as the nurses attempted to drag him back towards the front doors. All three turned to look, watching as he broke free, running into the gardens and grabbing Jane by her shoulders.

"Barty? Bart… Calm down. It's alright."

"Beware! Beware the light!" he hissed. His eyes flashed, glowing from an otherworldly blue light to his normal blood shot brown. He collapsed in a gasp, slumping down Jane's front and to the ground. Jane stared down at him. Her calm veneer rattled the Doctor. She looked up at him and River, making no attempt to touch the body for conformation.

"He's dead." She only whispered, the shake in her voice all that gave her shock away. The Doctor sprung free, pulling a strange metal device from within his jacket. The end began to glow and make a whirring sound as he passed it to and fro over Barty's collapsed corpse. Nurses rushed to their side and he slid the device back within his coat before anyone could comment.

"He just went mad- er, madder I suppose. He's usually so placid." One nurse stammered. Jane backed away slowly, staring at Barty and the blood that was beginning to seep out of his nose. Something was wrong, she couldn't place it. Yes he was dead, but he was blank. There was nothing. She couldn't feel anything anymore.

"He wasn't just mad. He was possessed." An older nurse whispered, quickly crossing herself.

"Possessed? Oh… Oh that's brilliant." He breathed excitedly, turning on his heels to look at River like a kid at Christmas. River only stared, doing her best to keep her face blank and uninterested herself. She had to admit, as much as she knew it was a bad idea… She was curious too.

"Five minutes?"

"No."

He bowed his heads placing his hands together in a begging motion in front of his lips while he stared at River. She scowled, nearly caving at the sight of her husband's pathetic attempt to endear himself to her.

"No. Not the face. It doesn't work. We're leaving."

"I'll fix the vortex manipulator. Free jump, on me."

"No you won't." River scoffed in disbelief.

"No, you're right I won't." The Doctor unclasped his hands decidedly with a sigh. "New tactic."

He snapped his fingers, the door to the blue box behind them swinging distinctly shut. River's eyes narrowed.

"We're staying. Now come along, sweetie, and perhaps I'll…I don't know…buy you something nice."

"You're going to buy me off? Cheap bribes, that's what you're resorting to?" River asked blankly, crossing her arms over her chest.

"Depends." The Doctor smiled charmingly, "Is it working?"

"Two tubes of hallucinogenic lipstick and the year 3069's ammunition booster for the sonic revolver. I know you hate weapons but I'm a girl who's rather fond of her toys." River smiled slyly, the innuendo shining in her comment. The Doctor's face split into a grin and he rubbed his hands together gleefully. Both turned around to find all three nurses and Jane standing there staring at them stunned, dismissive of the corpse at their feet.

"Who the hell are you people?" the youngest nurse asked bluntly, all four women staring at the duo as if they had four heads.

"Uh. Right." The Doctor fished out a black fold from his jacket pocket and flashed it in the direction of the nurse. "I'm the wards newly hired doctor so good my colleagues call me just 'The Doctor.' And this, this is my overly sexually forward assistant Doctor Song."

"Overly… Why you…"

"No you aren't." Jane interrupted blankly, staring at the also blank paper.

"That paper doesn't say anything." The Doctor's head whipped and his eyes narrowed as he snapped it shut. He invaded her personal space rather quickly, sniffing at her. His mad green eyes surveyed her curiously. Suddenly he smiled broadly and patted her on the head like a child, causing Jane to scowl.

"Course it does! Blimey… Don't tell me you're mad and can't read."

"I can read." Jane seethed, as the Doctor hooked an arm about her neck. She felt something brush at her side, slipping into her pocket. Other aides were arriving. One threw a sheet over Barty's body and the others began loading him up onto a stretcher.

"You'll have to excuse Jane, dearie. She fancies herself a bit of a know-it-all." The older nurse-a woman Jane knew from her floor as Nurse Cora sniffed, speaking to the Doctor as if she wasn't there. Jane's lips pursed and she scowled.

"Good to know that part doesn't change." River muttered behind them.

"I'm right here, you know." Jane huffed, shoving the Doctor off of her.

"Precisely. Now run along girl. You know you're not supposed to be out here, what with a storm on the way. Off you pop." Nurse Cora shooed her with a nudge.

"We'll take you to see Doctor Whitten, sir. He's in charge."

Jane loitered ahead of them, looking over her shoulder as the Doctor sauntered off with the strange woman and the three nurses. But not before sending Jane a wink. She reached into her pockets only to feel the smooth texture of the black leather billfold she had seen enclose the blank-but-not-blank paper.

What had he slipped her that useless thing for?

"So who is she?" The Doctor asked lowly. The nurses were taking them on a tour of the wards on the way to see Doctor Whitten. Despite the morbid fascination, the Doctor found himself growing bored from the expansive tour. How could he focus on boring lunatics and the depressed when his mind was spinning with questions far more interesting?

"Well these are the nurses and-"

"Not them." The Doctor let out with an exasperated sigh. "Jane."

"You know I can't tell you." River sighed dismissively.

"But she's important?" The Doctor pressed.

"Oh, beyond even your mind's understanding. Didn't you feel it when you met her, the internal pull?" River asked offhandedly.

The Doctor rounded on her immediately, his face solemn, "How did you know about that?"

River laughed shortly, "Because everyone does. Although from what you've told me it's a bit stronger for you. Magnetic, even."

"But I haven't-"

"Doctor? Nurse Melody?" A nurse's voice sounded in front of them. The pair turned, aware they had reached their final destination. A frosted wooden door stood in front of the group, the name E.B. Whitten, Ph.D. stood out in bold black type face. A nurse opened the door and it swung open, revealing an elderly man sitting at his desk. He was balding, a white goatee and mustache framing his face. A cigar sat burning in his left hand and he took a deep puff, glancing up from the file he was examining an exhaling at the sight of his visitor. "A Fine Romance" played softly on the record player in the corner, giving the office slightly more of an upbeat feel.

"Hello there! Come in, come in." He looked up at the door, smiling amiably, "My apologies for the record player. The radio's been down with the storm and I must confess all I have is Fred Astaire." He said with a laugh.

"Good ol' Fred. Brilliant dancer." The Doctor laughed, earning a quizzical look from Doctor Whitten.

"Ah Doctor Whitten, a pleasure." Melody smiled, strolling confidently into the room, the Doctor closely at her heels.

"And who are you?" he inquired politely. The Doctor stepped forward, giving a nod of his head.

"I'm the Doctor and this is my assistant Melody Pond. New recruits, the hospital up the way in Brighton heard you had your hands full. We're on transfer to uh…lend an extra hand. Or hands." He said brightly, waving his hand, while grabbing Melody's wrist to give her hand a jiggle.

"…Are you sure you're not a new patient?" He asked slowly, staring at the pair.

"They're not sir, saw the credentials myself." The younger nurse stepped to the forefront.

"Well? Where are they?" Doctor Whitten asked.

"Ah.. Well.." The Doctor smiled sheepishly opening his jacket. He pretended a look of shock.

"I seem to have misplaced-"

"Here you are." Melody cut him off, brandishing her own paper with a flick of the wrist. Doctor Whitten stared at it, taking a long puff off his cigar.

"Ah yes. On loan from Brighton. Did you both really attend to the Archbishop?"

"Long time ago. Been around a pip. Now…" The Doctor trailed, turning a keen eye around the office. He sauntered over to the radio, running and eye over it before turning to face his audience.

"Word is you've been having some problems. Patients acting a bit madder than usual, blue eyes, dropping dead, that sort of thing. Ring any bells?" The Doctor asked curiously as if he was inquiring about the weather.

"Well, no. Not that I…. Well, now that you mention it…" Doctor Whitten trailed, looking troubled as he did, as if it hadn't occurred to him. He sat back down in his chair rubbing his temples.

"There's been four.. But-but-but I thought it was just a virus..." he trailed, looking up at the Doctor.

"No. It wasn't. It's much more exciting than that. How far apart?"

"Just in the past week…" Doctor Whitten trailed.

"Can we see them?" River asked seriously. Doctor Whitten nodded, getting to his feet.

"We buried the first three quickly for fear of spread but… But I believe there is one still in autopsy."

"Two sir. Barty's dead." The older nurse interjected. Doctor Whitten sighed, taking a longer puff on his cigar before dousing it in the ash tray. He hobbled around the table, walking with a decided hunch.

"Follow me Doctor, Miss Pond. I will take you to autopsy." He said. "You ladies are free to resume your post." All three curtsied before scurrying out the door. The Doctor trailed after Doctor Whitten, River at his side.

"You gave her your psychic paper, didn't you?" River asked lowly.

"Perhaps. Just one of those gut feelings."

"You really have to stop listening to those when it comes to her."

"Why?"

"When it comes to that girl, your feelings are the last thing you want to trust."

A/N: I love River's personality. I couldn't resist writing her into the first chapter... Hopefully everyone sounds in character?

Review!