Part two of the story. Thanks to everyone who left feedback on the first chapter! This bit's a little shorter than the first, however this is the best place within the story to take a chapter break. All pertinent notes can be found in part one. I hope all you readers enjoy this chapter as well!
For those who are interested, translation for the Latin phrases can be found in my profile. They'll be updated with each chapter posted.
O virgo specialis
Salva nos, stella maris
Sis nobis salutaris
Imperatrix celorum
Charlie pulled at the ends of his hair, which were in even more of a jagged state than normal. Stupid hair. Caused all sorts of problems. He glanced up at Mum, who hadn't said a word to him since they had walked out of the school. He certainly wasn't upset that he'd left class early, but he didn't like to see him Mum so mad at him. It made him feel all bad inside. However, it wasn't his fault that they left him alone with no more work to do and a pair of safety scissors. At least only his hair had suffered before they caught him.
Mum's hand dropped down on his shoulder, tugging at his backpack strap and making him look up at her. She still wasn't smiling, but had seemed to calm down a little bit. "Charlie?" She tilted her head towards the bakery's display cases, racks upon racks of delicate little creations, tarts filled with little candied fruits, marzipan made to look like every conceivable food available, tiny cakes frosted with cream with shaved chocolate on the tops, and so much more that made Charlie's eyes light up in anticipation of the oncoming sugar rush. "Che cosa tu desideri?" she asked.
Charlie looked over at the cases. He didn't think he was going to get anything whilst at the bakery that they stopped by at least twice a week for snacks, but Mum nodded down encouragingly at him. "Io vorrei…questo…questo…e questo," he said, pointing at a selection of items that caught his eyes.
Mum paid for their treats and they walked off, moving down the crowded city street. Charlie picked a mille-feuille that was layered with almond crème and raspberry jam out of the bag and began to munch on it, getting crumbs all over himself.
"I'm sorry I yelled at you back at the school," Mum said, speaking loud enough for her voice to carry over the traffic on Borgo Ognissanti. Charlie looked up at her again, nearly tripping on a poorly-set cobblestone on the sidewalk. "I just didn't expect to get a call this morning saying my son was caught sitting in his cubby-hole cutting his own hair." She glanced down at him, a glint in her eye and a quirky smile on her lips. "At least it was your own hair and not someone else's."
"I was bored," Charlie shrugged, shoving more pastry into his mouth. "The teacher didn't want to give me any more work. And I didn't wanna cut out any more pictures of trees. I know what a tree looks like."
"You're just too smart for your own good," Mum said, though not in an insulting sort of way. "Same as your dad, really. Although, he did have 900 plus years of experience to back him up."
Charlie paused in his chewing and stared up at her, quite wary. "Dad's 900 years old?" he said, more than a bit skeptical. There was alien, yes, but that seemed to be pushing it.
"'S what he always said," Mum replied, pushing him back into movement. "And obviously he knows a lot more than I do about things like that."
The pastry was gone, leaving a lingering taste of raspberry jam on his lips. Charlie darted out from her grip and began to walk along the curb as if it were a balance beam, holding his arms out to the side. "Did he have tentacles?" he asked. "Am I gonna turn green when I'm 13?"
Now it was Mum's turn to stop dead on the sidewalk, almost crashing into a tourist rushing somewhere or the other. "What?"
"You said he was alien. Most aliens on the telly are all green and slimy." Charlie frowned. "I really don't wanna be slimy."
Mum rolled her eyes mightily and grabbed onto his shoulder, guiding him across the street when there was a break in the traffic. There was yet another piazza there, and they sat down on a bench placed strategically so as to admire the statue of a man wrestling a lion that was in the centre of it. "Okay," Mum said, sitting cross legged on the bench and turning to face Charlie. "Time Lord biology, 101." Charlie nodded and reached for his next pastry, a baby chocolate tart with whipped cream on top. "First question – if you see a Time Lord on the street, how could you tell?"
Charlie shrugged. "Look for the tentacles?"
Mum shook her head. "Nope. It's a trick question. You wouldn't be able to tell; they look exactly like us. Or maybe we look like them. I always got the impression that the Time Lords are ages older than humans are. The first time I saw the Doctor I didn't know that he wasn't human. It was only when I saw his ship—"
"The TARDIS," Charlie interjected with a nod. He'd heard about that ship before, that wonderful ship that could get into one's head and was far bigger on the inside than it appeared to be. It had originally started out as a made up bedtime story, and had only realized after he had found out the truth about his dad that it wasn't as imaginary a ship as previously believed.
"Yes, the TARDIS," Mum continued with a smile. "That was what made me realize he wasn't quite like the other people on Earth. The real differences are underneath the skin. His blood is different. It looks red, but if you saw it under a microscope…something about the shape of the cells, and the chemicals in it. It's all technical stuff that I have no idea about, but I know it's so different from mine." She pushed some blonde hair behind her ears, out of the way of the chilled December air that was whipping it around. "He was telepathic as well, could see into people's minds if he wanted to. What else…" She wrinkled her brow, deep in memories.
"Something that's going to make me turn green or purple when I'm a grownup?" Charlie grinned.
"No. Oh, I'm forgetting two of the most important things." She leaned in close, as if imparting a great secret. "He has two hearts," she whispered to him with a wide grin on her face.
"That's imposs—" Mum's look cut him off, reminding him that nothing was really impossible sometimes. Charlie prodded at his own chest, feeling for his own heart and finding it beating steadily on the left side of his chest. "I've only got one."
"Maybe it's because you're half human," Mum shrugged. "I'm not sure. But I know for a fact that he has two hearts. You could put your ear to his chest and listen, and there's one on the left side and one on the right. Sometimes, when I had trouble falling asleep, I'd lay down and put my head over his hearts…it was almost like a lullaby."
"Is there anything else that made him really really alien?"
Mum nodded, picking at her own blueberry tart. "There's one thing, a little trick that the Time Lords had as a way to sort of cheat death. It's called regeneration, where every cell in the dying body is replaced by a brand new one. I'm not sure how many times he's had to do it, but I get the feeling it's been a few by now. I saw him do it once, saw him explode into this golden light right in front of my eyes." She munched thoughtfully on a sugar glazed blueberry.
"He exploded? What happened?" By this point, Charlie was truly enraptured.
"He was saving the Earth from this horrible race called the Daleks. All they wanted to do was take over and destroy. But your dad was brilliant enough to stop them, but he got injured so badly in the process that he had to regenerate. He exploded…and he changed."
"How did he change?"
"When I say every cell is replaced it means every cell. By the time it was over he looked like a whole new man. When I started traveling with him he looked like he was a tall human man in his forties, with very short cropped dark hair. He hated his ears, thought they stuck out too much. It was a face full of character, with these intense blue eyes and a manic grin, and I just loved it. He had a thick northern accent, and always wore this beat up leather jacket with a jumper and dark jeans.
"Then, after he changed…the first thing I noticed was the hair." She laughed softly. "It looked like a brown thatch had burst out on his head. He's a bit vain about it. Speaking of vanity he decided to change his clothes too. After he regenerated he always wore a brown pinstriped suit and a long coat, topping it all off with a pair of trainers." Mum shot a pointed look down at his own beyond grimy sneakers, at which he just wiggled his toes. "He was a bit skinnier than the previous version, younger as well looks wise, by about ten years or so, and he had big brown eyes and the freckles to match. Same wild grin though." Mum finished her tart and cupped Charlie's face in her hands. "You know what? You look exactly like that too." She leaned forward and pressed a kiss to his forehead. "Which is why I should not have been the least bit surprised to hear that you've been bored silly in class."
"I hate it there," Charlie said, reaching for his third treat in the bag, a very lifelike marzipan banana. For a sickly child he could pack a surprising amount of food away.
"I know you do. So what I think we're going to do is call them up tomorrow and tell them you're not going back."
Charlie nearly jumped and looked up at her, startled. It was like every child's wildest dream come true. Mum nodded. "Christmas is in a couple of weeks, and then you're going to be on vacation anyway. So what we'll do in that time is find a new school for you, something more suited to your abilities. Or maybe we'll just move again. We've been in Florence for a while, could be time for a change." Charlie just shrugged.
"I dunno…"
"Well, we've got time to think about it. You know, I've always fancied going to Barcelona." Charlie couldn't quite understand why she was grinning like a loon at him, but he trusted her (she was Mum,after all), shrugged again, and shoved more of his marzipan banana into his mouth.
To be continued in part three...
