This is my first fanfiction ever, so it most definitely will not be written that well at first, but I'm hoping that you guys will stick with it until it's decent. Yes, there's OCs everywhere in this, the only one that isn't is the TARDIS and the idea of the Doctor. If you don't like it then don't read it, and please review with criticisms if you want, just don't insult it or me. I'll update it if people actually read it, and I'm hoping someone out there will like it.
Prologue
The man stands alone, fully aware that he's crashing but ignoring it. That's the next guy's problem. Clara's face appears in his mind, followed quickly by the Ponds, Martha, Donna, Rose. How they had traveled. How they had left. He was terrified of dying, honestly. He was scared of who he would become. But the lights have already started dancing around in his mind, and he knows he has no more time. His arms fly out to the sides in a burst of light and sound, scorching the walls around him.
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Willow Tate stood at the door of the Gillian House. The place had been abandoned for years, making it a perfect place for meetings in the dead of night, such as the one that Willow was thirty minutes late for. She opened the door and slid inside, flicking on her electric torch as she went. "Tom?" She asked the darkness. "Are you here?" It was quite possible that Tom had gotten bored and left. "Tom?" she repeated. She kept calling the name as she moved through the house. A floorboard creaked, making her stop in her tracks. Another creak echoed around the walls. Suddenly, the air seemed to get darker and thinner and colder at all the same times. Three trill notes whistled from behind her. "Thank goodness, Tom," she said, turning.
The night was pierced by a shrill, terrified scream.