Author's Notes: This is the new version of chapter 2. Again, I haven't paused for reviews or whatever to know if you're receptive to the idea or not... which was probably my down falling the first and second times I did this... oh well.

Disclaimer: A disclaimer disclaims. I'm sure you can figure it out.

Martha was thrown against the console violently – that was gonna leave a bruise. Something was flashing on one of the monitors, which the Doctor grabbed, reading the unknown symbols frantically.

"No, no, no, no, no. Impossible." There was a pause, like someone was talking to him. "Are you sure?" There was another pause. "But there can't be." Without him touching anything, the TARDIS lurched violently, making it obvious they had changed flight paths.

"Doctor? What's happening?" She asked, trying desperately to grip onto the edge of the console.

"The TARDIS – she thinks there's another Timelord regenerating." He picked up a rubber mallet and began hitting the console. "No, no, no, no, no." He chanted while bashing away.

"But that's good, isn't it?" She asked, confused. For a brief second, he looked her in the eye. He was unreadable, as always. Then he looked away and continued abusing his ship. Something on the monitor got his attention, though, and he looked startled for a second before stepping away from the console and letting the TARDIS do what she wanted. They landed with a bump.

"We're in London, it's the 2nd of March, 2007." He read out to her. "You could visit your mother if you want." He ran out of the TARDIS, obviously expecting her to follow him blindly. He knew her too well. When she caught up to him, he had the sonic screwdriver out, and was walking steadily.

"I'm getting a signal." He explained. "There's a massive amount of energy floating around. And it seems to be coming from... that way." He began running, eager to find the power source. She followed him, his excitement was catching. He stopped short again. The Doctor was standing completely still, he didn't even look like he was breathing. He recognised this place, but she didn't. It was obviously a council estate, a fairly average one with nothing particularly distinctive about it. He was staring at the door of one flat in particular. He swallowed hard when a young girl and her mother came out of it. The little girl was a brunette and her mother was a peroxide blonde. He opened his mouth as if he was going to say something, but decided against it.

"Doctor?" He looked at her, "What is this place?"

"The Powell Estate. It's... the Powell Estate. And the signal's coming from somewhere on the other side of it." He put on his happy-go-lucky facade and began walking quickly through the estate. He was always blocking her out and god it was annoying.

The morning after her first regeneration, Magenta donned her school uniform, leaving her long hair down and wearing the clothes Kelly Jones style (Head girl in St Trinian's). She had been unconscious for most of the night and hadn't done her homework, but that was okay. The teachers knew she knew this stuff – they also knew she would terrorise them if they called her up on it.

xXFLASHBACKXx

She was just beginning to get her reputation the first time she forgot to do her homework. Their teacher was an uptight prick to the girls and a bit overly friendly to the guys – he wasn't a pervert, he was just misogynistic.

"Well, well Magenta. Didn't you understand it? It's okay, you're a girl." He said, patronisingly. The class leaned forward in anticipation.

"Mr Lefcourt, yeah actually, I didn't understand it. You're right, it probably was because I'm a girl. Education is for men." She said sincerely, shocking her classmates. Brendan Connelly, who had been messing around on his phone, almost dropped it. "You know what else I don't understand? I don't get why you're cheating on your wife with Mrs McDonald. I mean, I've heard from Mr Gregson that your wife's a real looker. Apparently she's a good dancer, too. I've never seen her personally, though. I'm not into watching women peel away their clothes while dancing around a pole for a bunch of old, well, a bunch of old people like you."

xXBACKTOTHEPRESENTXx

Magenta was halfway to school when a golden stream of light issued from her mouth. Something must have gone wrong – she couldn't remember reading about anything like that happening. Maybe she woke up too early. She should probably go home. Magenta decided against it, wanting to see if people could notice the subtle differences. She rocked up to her locker, where a bunch of her friends were waiting.

"Hey, Snow White." Sylvie greeted her. "Did you get new shoes?" Magenta nodded. Well, that's the height.

"Are you wearing mascara or something?" Lauren asked.

"Yeah." That's the lashes.

"Did you get more hot overnight?" Logan, who was the closest thing to a boyfriend Magenta had ever had, asked.

"Oh, you know me. I get sexier with each passing day." She winked at him and grinned, letting her tongue slip to the corner of her mouth coyly. Her friends seemed shocked. "What?" She asked, surprised.

"That's the first time I've seen you smile in... forever." Logan informed her. "Actually, you look like my cousin's ex-girlfriend."

"Right." She drew out the 'I', "That'd be one of Jimmy's girlfriends, then." Logan nodded.

"R-" The rest of the name was drowned out by the bell, "I think her name was. See you later." Logan disappeared with Lauren to go to English while Sylvie walked with Magenta to Physics. There wasn't a teacher there.

"You think that chick from yesterday quit?" Brendan asked them after no one had appeared for 5 minutes.

"Wouldn't surprise me." Magenta commented, pleased at the prospect of having no teacher for that lesson.

Martha was running all out to keep up with the Doctor. As soon as they had got past the Powell Estate, he had broken out into a sprint, leading them into an even more dodgy-looking area. They stopped when they reached an apartment block that looked slightly more decent than the rest of the area. Something flashing in the sun caught Martha's eye, which turned out to be a bloody knife, which she pointed out to the Doctor.

"Doctor, look." She gestured to the knife. To her surprise, he bent down, picked it up and sniffed it.

"I think whoever's blood this is..." He licked it. "Yep, definitely Gallifreyan." This inspired him to keep tracking the energy with his screwdriver up three flights of stairs. They reached a door, which the Doctor tried to open with the sonic screwdriver. "Whoever lives here is smart." He commented. "Double deadlock sealed – alien tech. But, the first lock is human, shouldn't be too hard..." He grinned and rummaged in his coat pocket for a few seconds and pulled out two paper clips. "Wanna learn how to pick a lock?" He asked. After using the wire to unlock the first lock, the second alien lock could easily be broken by the screwdriver. They walked in tentatively and took in their surroundings. The flat was neat but homey. A white suede sofa and two matching armchairs provided seating in the lounge room in front of a large TV with a fireplace in the left wall. The flooring to the whole apartment was white tiling, except in the singular bedroom, where white carpet took it's place. The flat only had three doors leading off from the main area. The main area was made up of the lounge room and a small kitchen, which was immaculately kept. To the left was the bedroom with a large bed covered in a matching scarlet duvet-and-pillow set. There were black silk sheets underneath and white curtains – infact, almost everything about everywhere was white. The bathroom was through the middle door, which was also white. It was also the only room where things looked messy – like whoever lived here had been in a rush. Crumpled on the floor in front of a full-length mirror was a girl's school uniform. The black skirt and tie had been tossed to the side, but the white fitted blouse lay on the floor directly in front of the mirror. The sight of it alarmed her – there was dried blood all over it, and a tear in the middle of the back.

"Doctor!" She yelled out and he came running in.

"What? What is it?"

"Look at that." She pointed to the strewn-about uniform. "Looks like whoever we're looking for is a schoolgirl." He picked up the blouse, sniffed it, then licked it.

"Yep, the same blood, definitely." He clenched it tightly in one hand. "Do you think she lives alone?"

"Yeah, probably." The Doctor left and went into the bedroom. "Oi, Martha! There's a photo album in here!" She quickly re-entered the bedroom, feeling slightly odd for invading someone else's privacy. He was sitting in the middle of the bed, his brown coat and blue suit working in surprisingly well with the red duvet. He patted the space next to him, keeping the book open at the first page. There was a picture of a girl in the middle of the page, almost but not quite smiling. Underneath it, was a caption saying 'Magenta Moncrieff. If you're some random weirdo who finds this and wants to stalk me, please don't. I'm messed up enough as it is.' on the next page, a group of smiling kids in their early teens with a caption saying 'Lauren, Sylvie, Logan, Brendan, Sophie, Jack and Ebony.' Pictures of both the same and different people getting older followed, with some singles, couples, groups and even a few class photos thrown in. There was a beautifully decorated plain white page which obviously signified a change in sections halfway through the book. The background was a plain white, the calligraphic writing was black and there was a red ribbon threaded around the page – Martha was sensing a theme to this girl developing. The writing was made of familiar symbols, which Martha knew but didn't understand.

"That's Gallifreyan, isn't it?" She asked softly, gazing at the Doctor's hopeful face.

"Yeah, but it's strange. This is Old High Gallifreyan, only important members of society knew how to write this way – most of the people wrote in Low Gallifreyan. Whoever this girl is – she was important." He turned the page and Martha gasped. It was the Doctor, the 10th Doctor, looking about five or ten years older than he did now. He was at... a beach? In his suit. He was smiling happily at the camera with two toddlers sitting in his lap. One was a pretty blonde girl, the other was a cute brunette boy. Their facial features were fairly similar, except more masculine or feminine. They were both wearing cute little matching swimwear. The shot was a bit broad, showing a young girl with straight black hair, perfectly white skin and blood red lips sitting next to a large sand castle, looking dejected a few meters to the left of them. The sand castle was just that – a sand castle. It looked like the Walt Disney castle, made to a scale where the little girl could probably sit inside it if she wanted to.

"I'm gonna check around the place again, try and find a phone number or something." The Doctor said, sounding bewildered and handed her the photo album before leaving.

On the other side of the page was writing in English.

That day he took us to a beach in Australia, Earth. It was called Sunshine Beach on the Sunshine Coast. Well, it would be called that in another few hundred years when white settlers had found it. There was no one else there – just him, Allie and James. And me, of course. I spent hours and hours working on this stupid sandcastle, he didn't offer to help. But that was okay, Allie and Jamie wanted to go swimming and he couldn't let them go on their own. I got that. So I thought I'd just show it to him later when he wasn't as busy, thinking that maybe for one he'd actually... I dunno. Anyway, so lunchtime rocks up, right, we had a picnic. Well, they had a picnic, I just sat there and looked at the food, mentally keeping a tally of how many of the foods I liked compared to how many the twins liked. It was like, 0 to 12. Anyway. So he had a self timing camera out and was reading the manual when I asked him what he thought of my sandcastle. Without looking up, he just said "That's nice. Don't get sand on the camera." Anyway, so I thought he was probably just busy with the camera, so I waited awhile and helped Allie and James with their sandcastles, which were pretty much buckets of sand turned upside-down. So he finally gets the camera thing set up and calls over the twins. He didn't call me over, so I just sat there, listening to him speak.

"Now, we're gonna have a nice family photo, remember to smile.". I was 5 years old.

Martha felt her throat close up and tears spring to her eyes. She didn't know why she felt so bad for this girl, but the story was just so sad. On the next page was a picture of the Doctor with the same boy and girl, slightly older, in a park somewhere with the black-haired girl nowhere in sight. She turned over to the next page and found more writing.

We were on Gallackfeneltundra, a fairly nice planet... a few millenia after we visited. I dunno what it is with him and picnics, but he packed another one. You know what's funny is that it was my 7th birthday and he went there because he thought the twins might like it. He packed a cake in there, but he hadn't made an indication as to if he remembered my birthday, so I asked why it was there.

"I thought it would be nice for the twins." Was his answer.

"That's so nice of you." I said really, really sarcastically. He just smiled and said:

"They deserve something good once in awhile." I wanted to scream at him. They did nothing all day but look cute and be stupid. They did nothing to deserve anything. I, on the other hand, spent my days studying, reading, helping him repair the TARDIS, just whatever. I worked. And I was 7, mind you. So not only has he completely forgotten my birthday, he's turned this day into 'Let's Celebrate Two Complete Idiots' day. Meanwhile, the twins were sitting there drawing unidentifyible messes with disturbingly bright coloured crayons saying stupid things like 'Why aren't there any birds, daddy?' My GOD!! Anyway. So I went back into the TARDIS, picked up my art stuff and went back outside. I was sitting under a tree, sketching the general area, you know. I was in full sight of him, although he was too preoccupied by being a complete prick to pay any attention to me. There were two men who just came along and dragged me away. I was screaming my head off and the Bastard just goes 'I'll be there in a minute.'. Yeah. Nice. So they drugged me and when I woke up, I was in a cage. Yeah, a cage. There were some older women there, the second youngest looked about 13 and the oldest about 40. So I ask them where I am.

"You're going to be sold." The 13 year old sneers.

"Stop it." Another said to her.

"As a sex slave. We all are." The 13 year old continued. So while the Bastard was eating cake, I was gonna be sold to some perverted 40 year old. Nice work. After a few hours, the Bastard came and bought me. So when we get back to the TARDIS he apologises to freaking Allie(!!) and completely ignores me. I could hear him.

"I'm sorry I put you in danger, Allie. Are you sure you're alright?" Later that night, I finished my picture from memory and took it to him.

"Daddy-"

"Magenta, how many time do I have to tell you not to call me that?" He was right though, he's not my father. Not biologically or anything.

"I'm sorry, Doctor."

"That's better." I handed him the picture. He might as well have tore it in half and asked "What the hell is that meant to be?". No, really he just glanced at it and said "Practice makes perfect, so just keep practising." I don't know if he meant to encourage me or something, but I cried myself to sleep. But now that I think about it, I probably should have wondered so far away. He's always telling the twins not to wander off, so I guess it was kind of my fault.

On the next page was a glued-in pastel drawing, which Martha assumed was the picture from the story. It was perfect. In every way. It looked like a photograph, and the scene couldn't have been more beautiful. It was of a freshwater spring – the bubbling water was dappled by shade provided by a canopy made of small trees. Martha had no idea what made her keep going, even though she could hear the Doctor coming closer. On the next page, a picture of the Doctor and who she assumed were an older Allie and James in front of a Christmas tree. The black haired girl wasn't in this picture either. True to form, there was a story written on the next page.

I was 15, almost 16, and I was getting ready for secondary school. It was my Christmas gift. The Doctor said my Christmas present would be being allowed to go to a normal school. To tell the truth, I didn't want to have an Earth education for education, I wanted to get away from him. Anyway. It was Christmas, and Allie and James were 13 – older than I was when I was taken by those men. Somehow, I don't think they would have had my problem because the Bastard would have kept and eye on them. He had been a part of my life for as long as I could remember – he was never clear on how he got me. I'm not biologically related to him, I'm an experiment, that's all he ever told me. I don't know... Anyway, it was Christmas Day in the TARDIS, and Allie and James were sorting through their presents. I had a second hand uniform and a book pack for a comprehensive school in a dodgy part of London, but that was okay. It was more than I expected. Allie had my sonic screwdriver (which I had built myself with spare parts) and had snapped it. Skill. So I disappeared for awhile, trying to fix it. It wasn't really her fault – I hadn't explained not to be too rough. So when I got back, they'd started and finished Christmas dinner without me. That was my fault though, I didn't tell him when I'd be back.

It was becoming increasingly obvious that this girl blamed herself for the Doctor's misdeeds.

I wandered back into the Christmas room just in time to see the Bastard giving them all he had left of our mother's. He gave Allie her necklace and said she could have her room and he gave Jamie her TARDIS key. I got angry. I don't know what happened next. I remember singing... and lots of gold light. I remember Allie and James screaming their heads off and the Doctor yelling at me and I still don't know why. Before I knew it, he had thrown me out into Victorian London with my books and uniform. I was 15 and I'm about 200 now.

Martha's eyebrows shot up. 200 years old. What could have possibly happened to make the Doctor so cruel towards a child.

I still haven't heard from him. Or Allie. Or James. And I'm glad because I hate him. God, I hate him. When I was two and he and 'mum' sat me down and told me I'd have a little 'brother' and 'sister', I was happy. So when they said they'd be busy but that didn't mean they'd love me less, I though 'Fine, I just have to remember that when they're older, things will be back to normal.'. Yeah, uh, I never thought that 'mum' would die in childbirth and that the expected drop in attention would be neglect.

The Doctor was at the door, watching as Martha thumbed desperately through the pages. She was scanning story after story, photo after photo and getting more and more tearful at what the Doctor had done to this little girl.

"Martha?" He asked, concerned at her distress.

"Do you know her?" Her voice was frosty.

"Sorry?"

"The girl – Magenta. Do you know her?" Martha hadn't changed her cold tone.

"No. I think I meet her later, it's dangerous to know too much about the future." Martha just nodded, choking back tears. She got off the bed, still carrying the photo album. Just before they left, she put the album on the coffee table and left with him, still trying to suppress her sadness. They were walking in silence, made even more awkward by the constant buzzing of the sonic screwdriver.

"Aha!" The Doctor cried triumphantly, "When a Timelord regenerates they produce huge amounts of energy! Sometimes the residual cellular energy is too much to be contained and it just has to be released, so the Timelord just breathes it out, BUT this girl – she doesn't know what's happening, she's probably confused. We've gotta find her, come on! Come on!" He'd slipped into manic I-just-had-an-epiphany-and-need-to-share mode.

Magenta and her class mates were half-way through the teacherless lesson when a man in a pinstripe suit appeared with a young woman not that much older than them.

"Good afternoon." The man began cheerfully, oblivious to the anger radiating from one particular girl in the classroom. "My name is Mister Smith, and I am your new physics teacher. I've only worked as a physics teacher once before, my school blew up and I never wanted to try it again." The last sentence drew scattered laughter. "And this is my teaching assistant, Miss Jones." He gestured to Martha.

"Hello." She stepped forward nervously.

"You suck so badly you need an assistant to teach?" Brendan Connelly yelled out, getting laughter from everyone but the one girl he really wanted it from. That wasn't because Magenta wouldn't have found it funny, it was because she had disappeared.