Wassup peeps. Look! I said I'd update in two weeks- and now it's exactly two weeks later and I'm updating! Creepy, huh?

This chapter is dedicated to everyone who reviewed on the last chapter! Thank you so much!

*Trigger warning assault and abuse*

Look, guys. My Dad wasn't even born when Doctor Who started running, and he is remarkably old. (Love you Dad). The point is, there's no way I own Doctor Who- Are you kidding me? Would I be on this archive if I did? Probably.

I groan quietly as my alarm clock wakes me from my sleep.

"Shut up." I mutter, and the tinny tune dims as if in response to my scalding tone. I close my eyes for another minute, attempting to fall back asleep. There's no reason for me to be awake this early, and I couldn't sleep until late last night, but sleep is now unachievable.

"Up and at 'em, I guess."

I'm not getting any more sleep, I suppose. I wearily stumble out of bed and order my closet open. I pull out black leggings and a bright red jacket and make my way downstairs.

When I arrive downstairs it's completely dark, and when I look out the window I see a giant moon and countless stars.

"Typical." I snort. "Show me outside." I say.

The screen on the window changes from a starry night to a foggy day. I grab an apple and bite into it, walking into the kitchen I open the control panel and go into notes, where Dad left my chore list for the day.

I sigh.

Go to the store, mop the downstairs bathroom, run laundry, and make dinner. Simple enough.

My cell starts buzzing in my pocket and I pull it out.

"Hello?" I ask.

"Hey Lady Bug." I smile at the nickname.

"Hey Jesse, what're you doing?" I ask.

"Just getting ready for work. So nothing interesting." I smile. Jesse has been calling me every day since he moved to America with his wife. I know that it's one of those things that will start out strong and die out in time, but for now I'm just enjoying getting to talk to him once or even twice a day.

"Hey, you're the one who got a job. Got a wife and house to pay for." I click my tongue and shake my head.

"Hey! It's not my fault I got caught in the trap society has set for me!" He cries, "Anyways, when are you getting a job?" He asks. I shrug.

"As soon as a magical being appears before me at night and says, 'Ada, I am the ghost of hardworking beings, and it is time for you to stop being a freeloader."

"I'm being serious."

"So am I. Dad won't let me move out until he finds me a proper husband. There's really no point." I say. "Anyways, how's Adriana?" I ask, referring to his wife.

He sighs. "She sends her love."

"Tell her I said hi."

"I will. Come over for her birthday next month, yeah?"

"I'll try my best."

"I've gotta go, tell Adam I told him he needs to brush his teeth." He says.

I laugh. "Yeah, yeah. I'll tell him, but I think he's going for a record or something, so I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you."

I pause, frowning. "Actually, if you do see him, hold your breath."

He laughs. "I've gotta go, love you Ada."

"Love you too, bye."

I sit down, closing my eyes for a second. Suddenly, I feel tired again. But it's probably not the kind of tired that gets fixed with sleep.

"Pull yourself together." I mutter, heaving myself to my feet. I elect to go to the store first, so I won't have to leave the house again today. I grab dad's card off of the mantel and my purse off of the floor.

Outside it's chilly, and I immediately pull my jacket tighter around me. I look around the street and see a few children running around, throwing a ball between themselves. They stare at me as I walk out of the garden and I make a point of trying not to look at them.

"My Mummy says that she's a freak." One whispers.

"My Dad says that her family's sketchy."

"I'm not allowed to talk to them!"

I keep my eyes firmly on the ground and pull my hood up, trying to pretend like I can't hear.

Everyone's been saying the same things about me since I started going to school. Dad told me not to make friends while I was there, and not to talk to any of the students, so I didn't and everyone thought there was something wrong with me.

Now, it's the same. Except this time it's the neighbors, who recognize that I only leave the house late at night or maybe twice a month to go to the store. They make it so, so much scarier to go out.

I prepare dinner for the couple who is coming over for dinner with dad. Apparently, it's a woman he works with her husband. As I'm putting the chicken in the oven, I hear the door open and close and dad approaches the kitchen.

"You followed the recipe I forwarded to you, correct?" He asks gruffly.

"Yes, sir." He pats my back and says, "I'll be in my study. Be sure that that dish is finished by six." I nod, manually entering the timer in the oven.
I set the dining room table, only setting four of the eight places. I really miss the days when dad would bring work friends home, and the entire family would eat dinner together. Even if it was just for appearances sake, so dad would look like a family man. Everyone would pretend we got along, pretend like things weren't so bad, and for an entire evening, I got to be treated the same as everyone else.

Mr. and Mrs. Smith arrive shortly after dad, and they sit in the living room for a while, discussing work while Mr. Smith appears to feel left out, as he plays on his phone until his wife scolds him.

"We are here to be sociable," She says. "Put your phone away."

Dad shoots me a look and I nod. "Dinner's ready," I say, getting to my feet.

"Wonderful," Mr. Smith says, helping his wife to her feet. "What are we eating?" He asks.

"Chicken and biscuits." I say. "Homemade."

Mrs. Smith smiles brightly. "That sounds delicious! Thank you, Adaline!" She nudges her husband. "Yes, thank you, Miss Wilks."

I serve everyone their food and take a seat next to dad. For a few minutes the table is silent before Mrs. Smith decides to make conversation.

"So, Ada, your father tells me you have four older brothers. They must make it impossible or you to ever find a date."

I laugh politely and wipe my mouth with my napkin before replying with, "Yeah, I never stood a chance. I was hard enough to get past dad, let alone four big brothers." Mrs. Smith laughs.

"Don't worry, once you move out you can have a secret boyfriend or girlfriend. At your wedding you can pull them aside and tell them who you're marrying. It worked with me at least."

"Well I don't think it's a good idea," Dad speaks up for the first time. Mrs. Smith laughs.

"That's the trouble with daughters, they're very sneaky. You should've kept to sons." She says.

"You're probably right." Dad sighs.

I look down at my plate for a minute, avoiding dad's gaze. I wish I could just disappear. For a few minutes, forever, it doesn't matter. I wish things were different, and dad could forgive me. I wish anything that would make things easier.

"Did you hear about the aliens who're going to visit earth?" Dad asks.

"Hasn't everyone? It's been ten years since the last time anything's come close to earth." Mrs. Smith says.

"That we know of…" Mr. Smith says.

"Don't you start on your conspiracy theories, Mark." Mrs. Smith warns.

"All the signs are there, mysterious man that always shows up with something fishy. Not to mention we have no idea what the government is doing without our knowledge."

I raise my eyebrows, looking up from my plate. "Mysterious man?" I ask.

"Same guy, never ages, all throughout the years, only when things get desperate." He says, pulling out his phone. "You might've seen him."

"Please stop…" Mrs. Smith groans.

He ignores me and unlocks his phone, pulling up a picture. "Never got his name, only what I assume is a code name, which is stupid. Not worth mentioning." He shows me a picture that is taken from a stalker angle, and I raise my eyebrows.

It's a man wearing a blue suit, tan trench coat, red sneakers and tousled brown hair.

"Never seen him," I say.

As the next week goes by, nothing much happens. A few new bruises, a few phone calls from Jesse, and a few more scars. Altogether not too much. By Thursday, Dad has gone away on business for a couple of days and I have the house to myself.

I lay awake for most of the night on the couch, the sound of the TV droning on in the distance barely registering in my mind. I stare at the ceiling with a thousand thoughts running through my head, mostly thinking about how I'm ever going to escape this. What life I ever have a chance of with my father seeming to keep me tied down constantly.

If I run away now, he won't notice for at least three days. By then I could have already caught a plane to America and taken out a loan, gotten a motel room, changed my name and started searching for a job.

The only problem is I'm too scared to. I'm too scared to run away from everything I've ever known and start a new life with no one and nothing I know. I've never been alone before and even here is better than nothing.

By half past two in the morning I decide to go for a walk. I need air, a change of scenery, anything to take my mind off of the ache in my chest, and the hopelessness that I feel. I pull on one of my brother's old coat and step outside into the freezing December air.

The streetlights emit a dull orange glow that reflects on the snow. My cheeks grow steadily colder with every street I walk down, and my nose starts to run. It starts snowing and I turn into an alley in an attempt to get out of the wind and I pull out my phone, checking the weather forecast. Steady snow for the rest of the night. I immediately regret not checking the forecast before I left the house. I groan and rest the back of my head against the alley wall, closing my eyes for a moment.

I open my eyes abruptly at the sound of heavy footsteps lightly padding across the snow. I turn to see a man, at least six feet tall, staring down at me. My eyes widen in shock and I fumble to grab my phone, but drop it. Before I can duck to pick it up, he shoves me violently against the wall, something I'm sure will leave massive bruises on my back.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," I feel his gaze on me, and I feel exposed. A chill runs down my spine that I don't entirely attribute to the cold.

"Please let me go," I whisper.

Before I have a chance to call for help, or do anything really to protect myself, I'm slammed against the alley wall and his hand in over my throat. I can breathe while he does this, which confuses me momentarily before my vision starts to go, black spots covering most of what is in front of me. Everything feels numb, and when I attempt to flex my fingers, I'm not sure whether or not it works.

"Don't worry, sweetheart. You won't remember a thing." He soothes, running his fingers down my cheek.

I hear distantly someone shouting, and he let's go of me, letting me collapse onto the freezing cold ground. But I'm only aware of this for a few seconds before I finally lose consciousness.

I wake with my head aching and my throat throbbing. I sit up quickly and feel nauseous. The sound of the TV playing in the background is the only sound I can clearly make out. I can't remember how I got here, and or a moment I think it's just another beating from Dad, but I remember that he's away on business.

"Ah, Ada, good. You're awake." I freeze in my seat, recognizing the voice immediately. All at once the memory of what happened comes back all at once, the attack and my memories of the Doctor, and I lean over and empty the contents of my stomach into the trashcan.

I feel a hand rubbing my back and after a minute he hands me a glass of water, which I take gratefully.

"Here," He says, handing be three pills. "The orange ones are for your head, and the white one is for your stomach." He says.

I nod and down the rest of my water, which burns my throat.

"Good girl." He praises with a smile.

I close my eyes for a few seconds, trying to figure out if this is a dream. It's been two years, I could only assume that he was dead, or hated me, or anything. After a while, I never considered the fact that he could come back.

"Are you real?" I blurt out, turning to him abruptly and making eye contact with him for the first time in years.

He looks exactly the same as he did two years ago, and all throughout my childhood, never aging a day. As he always does, he looks extremely concerned. It looks like him. He looks like my Doctor.

"You're awake, Adaline. Someone attacked you, I took care of it, though. Don't worry," He smiles reassuringly at me and pats my arm.

"What happened to you?" I blurt out. "Where did you go?"

He frowns for a moment then says, "How old are you?"

"Nineteen."

"How old were you when you last saw me?"

"Seventeen…"

He groans. "I've got to stop doing this."

I raise my eyebrows, "This an easy mistake for you to make, then?" I ask.

"Fairly easy…" He trails off, biting his lip nervously and staring at the carpet.

"Ada," He says after a moment. "I'm so sorry. This was an honest mistake, I swear."

An honest mistake. How do you forget about someone for two years?

"How?" I ask, deciding it's better to press for answers instead of letting this go.

"I have a time machine. She's faulty, takes me to random times at her own pace. The last time I saw you was three days ago, I promise, Adaline."

He looks sorry, everything about him seems like he completely and totally means everything he just said, and it's now that I realize that he is either completely insane, or telling the truth. Instead of answering, I nod my head numbly.

The conversation lags and I turn my attention to the television.

"Rumors continue to spread on what is going on in the town of Dana, America. The town has been on lock down for forty eight hours, and social media continues to blow up with speculations from locals and other alike. The locals report that they have not been permitted to leave their homes for the whole of two days. It is reported that during the lockdown, two children, and one adult are missing. The official cause of this complete shut off from the world is still unknown, thought the speculations are getting more and more preposterous."

Images of the missing people appear on the screen. A little girl with dark brown hair and brown eyes. She can't be older than eleven. She grinning widely at the camera, clasping her hands together in front of her. Catherin Reynolds. A little boy with red hair, blue eyes, and a face that is covered in freckles is smiling halfheartedly at the camera. Obviously this was from an awkward family photo session, the kind that never looks natural. Ryan Smith. Finally, there's a picture of a man with dark brown skin, smiling at the camera from where he is playing the violin. Daren Moore.

I yawn, stretching out my aching legs. "Man, I think the world is coming to an end." I say.

"What year is it?" The Doctor asks urgently.

"Calendars, Doctor, we've talked about this."

"Adaline," He warns.

"Twenty one eighty two. You know, I could get you a calendar, watch, something that could help with this-" I stop talking as he pulls me to my feet, turning up the TV.

"Doctor!" I bite my lip as my wrists throb, the bruises on them right underneath where he grabbed me.

He ignores me while he intently watches the TV,

I groan. "Who watches the news?"

"I remember this! I heard about this a while ago, I wondered when I'd get involved in it." He says.

"Remember what?" I ask.

"This. It's Aliens again, this is when-" He stops himself, looking ridiculously excited.

"It's when what?" I ask, humoring him.

"Let's go and find out."

"How do you even think you know? Doctor, no one's known. For days."

"I'm a time traveler, word gets around. Eventually. Let's go to America. Find out the exciting way."

I laugh quietly for a moment before I look into his eyes. They're serious.

"Doctor, how're we getting to America?" I ask.

"We'll take my spaceship."

"Oh! The time machine spaceship?!" I ask excitedly.

"Yes!" He exclaims.

"No!" I laugh.

"Why not?" He asks.

"Because I'm not seven anymore!" I say, chuckling. "Time travel isn't real!"

"Yes, it is." He says stubbornly, crossing his arms. "Where did you think I'm from?" He asks.

"I sorta imagined some van somewhere, though I imagine you think you come from the future."

"Technically the past. I'm a Time Lord."

"Is that a cult?" I ask, grinning at him.

"No! It's a race! I'm from Gallifrey!"

"You're hilarious." I laugh.

"I'm serious!"

"Well, that too." He's quiet for a minute

"How do I know you're not just some nutter?"

"I am."

"Yes, then, I will run away with you. Obviously."

He snorts. "Listen, Ada. I swear on my life, I have no intention of hurting you, or doing anything but take you to America to have an adventure."

He isn't lying. I can tell when people are lying. The thing is- and this is a very important thing- that doesn't make him safe. I've known him my whole life, and I want to trust him, but a small part of me is still telling me that he's a murderer who will dispose of my body and I will never be seen again.

The other thing is, though, that isn't much worse that my current predicament.

I take a deep breath. "And then straight home."

"Only if that's what you want."

I nod slowly, rolling this information around in my head.

"Okay."

He grins at me, "I was hoping you'd say that."

If this is how I die- so be it. I'd rather go out with some hope left than with nothing at all.

So- who else saw the new episode of Sherlock? My non-spoiler response to it would basically be "You're not expecting it. No really, you're not."

Please review? Honestly, they make it so much more fun to write. Knowing that someone out there actually likes this story- it's amazing. It doesn't even have to be that long- just a few words. I'll take anything. Thank you so much!