Chapter 4:
Four months later, Jezabell had moved back into her house, and had made up with John. She still kept her studio a secret. For four months, she continued to think about that day nine months before, and painted and drew scenes from it every day. She was finally starting to think less about a strange man who wore converse with a suit, and a blue box that held a much larger space; but they still occupied her mind constantly. She thought about the tragic events of that day as well, but not nearly as much as that man from another world and his wonderful box. Jezabell's friends often caught her when her mind was wondering, but Jezabell refused to tell them what she was thinking about.
"C'mon Ez, just tell me! I don't believe that you forgot, it happens way too often." Joey said one day.
"First of all, don't call me 'Ez,' second, don't worry about it. Seriously, it's not important." Jezabell said, slightly annoyed. She had told him four times not to worry about it and that it was nothing.
"Fine, whatever," Joey said.
After a while, her friends started to just ignore it when her mind wandered off. Sometimes, when Jezabell couldn't pay any attention to what she was doing or who she was with, she excused herself from wherever she was, and then went to her studio as quickly as she could. Once she got there, she went straight to her locked room and painted and drew.
Jezabell couldn't stop herself from hoping she'd hear the strange engines of the amazing blue box; but she knew she may never see him again. She also kept having that strange feeling of familiarity whenever she thought about the blue police box, but after a while she figured it was just because she thought about it so much.
"John," Jezabell said one afternoon. "Do you remember when I told you that one other person was allowed to know where my studio was?"
"Yes," John answered. "Why?"
"No, I was just making sure."
"Jezabell, he's not coming back. It's been almost a year."
"Is that supposed to mean something? And I don't care if he does come back or not. I'm just saying, if he does, bring him to my studio."
"Okay, but, nine months, Jezabell. Nine! He isn't coming back."
"You don't know that."
"Why do you care so much about him?"
"I don't. I just have something to show him, so when he comes back, I'd like to show him. That's all."
"What do you want to show him?"
"Don't worry about it."
"Jezabell,"
"John, do use that tine. I have to go finish getting ready for the show. It starts at one, don't forget." Jezabell got up and left John at the counter in his pizza shop. She was walking towards her house when someone got her attention. It was that interviewer Kevin. Jezabell groaned. Kevin had been bothering her at least once a week since their first interview, four months before.
"Jezabell, do you have a minute?" He asked. There was a pen and a pad of paper in his hand.
"Go away, Kevin. I have somewhere I have to be." She said. She was getting beyond fed up with this guy. He'd been following her for four months!
"Where is that?"
"Anywhere you're not!"
"That wasn't very nice. Is this how the real Jezabell Adams is? Rude, and not a people person?"
"No! I just am sick of you following me around! Please, just get a life and stay out of mine!" Jezabell was almost home, and even though she was pretty sure he knew where she lived, she didn't want him following her there.
"I just have a question, just one!"
"Fine, what?"
"I haven't seen you with your boyfriend, Joey, for a while. Mostly with that John guy. Or one of your other guy friends. Are you and Joey broken up?"
"No, we aren't. Now please leave me alone." She got to her house and ran inside, locking all three locks on the door behind her. She also went to all the windows and closed all the shades or curtains. She prayed this guy would leave her alone soon, and find someone more interesting to stalk.
John was behind the counter at his pizza shop. It was only eleven, so there weren't too many people there and he was counting the money in the register. He hadn't seen Jezabell since she left him after their talk, besides her walking by the restaurant to get to her studio.
As John was finishing the money count, he was thinking about their conversation earlier. Why is this guy so important? He thought. What does she have to show him that she can't tell me?
Just as he was finishing, the door opened, and someone came in.
"Welcome to Wilson's Pizza." John said, in a flat tone, not looking up at the person.
"Hello," the man said, approaching John.
"What can I get you?" John put the money away and looked up at the man standing in front of him. He looked like he was in his thirties.
"Well, I'm actually not here for food." The man said.
"Sir, you're in a pizza place. That's what we sell." John was already slightly irritated, and this man wasn't helping too much.
"Yeah, I got that. You're John Wilson, right?"
"Yes. What can I do for you?"
"I'm looking for someone; I believe you're friends with. Jezabell Adams?"
"Sorry, Jezabell is busy right now. She's having an art show at around one in Kensington Gardens; you can talk to her then."
"Are you sure I can't see her before then? She might be busy at the show."
"You asked me a question, I gave you an answer. She isn't available right now." After saying that, John felt bad for how rude he must have sounded. "Tell you what; tell me your name and I'll let her know you came looking for her."
"Alright,"
"What's the name?"
"I'm the Doctor." John looked at him for a moment.
"Doctor what?"
"No, it's just the Doctor." This took John a minute to register.
"Um, well, in that case, hold on." John went to the back and took off his apron. He told another cashier he was leaving for a few minutes, and then went back to the man wearing a brown trench coat with a blue suit underneath, and converse. "Nice shoes." John couldn't help himself from saying. Then, he took the Doctor outside and, after checking to make sure no one was watching, lead him to the door to the basement.
"Where are we going?" the Doctor asked him.
"To Jezabell," John replied, with a bit of edge in his voice. He was very irritated now, because he was so sure this man would never come back. John lead the Doctor to the locked door at the end of the basement, and knocked three times. "Jezabell, it's me. I have something for you."
"I think I left it unlocked by accident, just come in." A voice shouted from inside. John opened the door and walked in. The Doctor followed him.
"Where are you?" John asked.
"In here. I'll be there in a second." The voice was Jezabell's and it came from the studio room.
The Doctor looked around the large room. If he didn't have a space ship that was bigger on the inside, he would have been impressed that the seemingly dull and small basement held a small apartment. He was impressed, however, that Jezabell was able to make the room seem like an actually apartment, and make you forget you're just in a basement. After a few moments, Jezabell came out of the room holding a stack of four or five paintings.
"So what's up?" she asked. She walked right past John and the Doctor, not even noticing the Doctor standing agenst the wall beside the door. She placed the paintings on the counter then turned around. "You said you had some-" She noticed the Doctor. He didn't look any different; brown trench coat, blue suit, awesome hair, and converse. "Oh." Was all she could say. She herself was starting to have doubts in the Doctor's return, and now, here he was, standing in her secret apartment studio.
"Hello, Jezabell." The Doctor said with a smile.
"Hi." Jezabell said. "Um, John, you can go now."
"Um, what?" John said. He wasn't about to leave her alone down here with some stranger. Plus, he wanted to see what Jezabell had to show this "Doctor." Did he even have a medical degree?
"You can go now." This was the first time Jezabell looked at him since she saw the Doctor.
"Fine, see you at the show." When John left, Jezabell went over and locked the door.
"So, um, hi," She stuttered.
"Hi." The Doctor said with a small laugh.
"Sorry, um, so what brings you back here?"
"Well, I just had to land to fuel up the TARDIS, and I thought I'd come by to say 'hello,' so, Hello." Jezabell laughed a little.
"I'm not about to say 'hi' again. But I have something to show you."
"Okay, what is it?"
"C'mere." Jezabell went over to the locked door, and opened it before stepping inside.
"Aren't you going to turn a light on?" The Doctor asked, going in after her. He felt the wall area by the door until he found a switch. When he flipped it, nothing happened. "Your switch is broken."
"I know." Came Jezabell's voice in the darkness. "The lights are voice activated."
"So turn them on. It's dark in here."
"It's not my voice that turns them on." This confused the Doctor. "It's yours."
"What?"
"I accidently recorded your voice the last time I saw you. And when I started using this room, I didn't want anyone to know about it accept one person, so I figured your voice would keep people from turning it on by accident."
"Who's the one person?"
"You,"
"Oh. And, um, what's the word?"
"What was your little catchphrase, again? The one you said after we left your TARDIS?" the Doctor thought for a moment.
"Allons-y?" He asked. In response, the lights came on. The Doctor looked around the room.
After his eyes adjusted to the sudden change of lighting, they widened. He was surrounded by painting and drawings of his blue TARDIS and himself. The Doctor moved around the room. On the back wall was a painting of the control room from the blue box. The back of the door looked like the TARDIS door with the words Police Public Call Box across the top. There was as a small table holding mini sculptures of the TARDIS. There were drawings, with and without color, laying across a desk in the corner. Easels stood, displaying images of the doctor from all angles; the TARDIS in different areas and angles; Jezabell with the Doctor; and a few here and there from the day they first met.
"Wow." Was all he could manage to say.
"I know it may seem a bit creepy, but…" Jezabell said.
"No, it's actually not. These are amazing. Each one is so detailed and so… So great!"
"Look in the back corner. Across the room from the desk." The Doctor did as he was instructed. There, in that back corner, were a bunch of paintings standing back-to-back, facing the wall. "Look at them." The Doctor looked at her for a moment, but when her face gave away nothing, no emotion what so ever, he looked back at the paintings.
One by one, he looked through them. At first, they were mostly of that first day; the people at the art show; the six "men" examining the sculpture; and the people fighting the aliens. Then he saw a picture of seven people, four girls and three boys. The Doctor recognized Jezabell and John. The next painting was of just one girl. She was in the picture before as well. She was smiling, but not very much. It was a small, almost nervous or sad, as if she was worried about whether or not she was smiling too big, or too small.
"Who is this?" He asked.
"Her name was Ashley." Jezabell replied, still giving off no emotion whatsoever.
"Was?" The Doctor asked. Jezabell didn't even blink, nor did she respond in anyway.
He went back to the painting. The girl had light brown hair and green eyes. She was very pretty, but something in her eyes made her seem sad. The painting gave off several emotions. The Doctor put that one down and picked up the next picture. He understood now why Jezabell gave off no emotion; why there were paintings of a girl in the middle of picture that seem to have nothing to do with her; and why she "was" Ashley.
He was holding a painting of the same semi-smiling girl, without her smile, without a nice and pretty background, and without the sadness in her eyes. Instead, her eyes were empty. This girl, Ashley, was lying on the ground of the community center with blood seeping out of her stomach. There was a small puddle of red blood around her as well. This was a painting of Ashley when she was found dead.
The Doctor was speechless. The painting gave off more emotions than the other one. This one ripped both his hearts out and crushed them into a million pieces. It stabbed his soul a hundred times, and yanked at his tear ducts, screaming at them to shed enough tears to fill a pool. As much as he wanted to, he couldn't look away from the dead girl. Finally, he was able to put the painting back. He couldn't bear to look at anymore.
"That was Ashley." Jezabell repeated. "She was my best friend. She was always there for me when I needed her, and was always sympathetic. Also, empathetic. The understood a lot of what I went through when I was younger because she went through similar things. Her parents were never very supportive of her. They always thought she wouldn't succeed at anything. They never complimented her, they just said whatever she did was okay but she could have done better. Ashley often left her house for a few days at a time and spent nights at one of her friend's house. That's why I told all my friends where my spare key was, so that they could come in whenever they needed me. She was always self-conscious. So self-conscious, that she couldn't make decisions for herself. She was so dependent on other people. If she thought she should do one thing and didn't have another person's opinion, she'd do the opposite." The Doctor listened, unsure of what to say. If what Jezabell just said wasn't sad enough, what she said next was sadder.
"She's dead," Jezabell continued. "Because she was alone. She had no one to be there for her and to help her get away from those creatures. She was alone, and she was looking for someone. She was looking for the person she trusted and needed most. Me. And I knew that, but I just kept going. I kept helping you save everyone else. I left her alone to die. She's dead because I made the choice not to help her. She'd dead because of me."
"Don't say-" The Doctor started.
"Don't. It is." A bit of anger was in her voice. "I was too busy helping the Doctor, a man I've never met before, then to help my best friend! Ashley was looking for me to help her! I heard her calling out to me! I would have gone too, but another voice was calling me, it was the strange Doctor! The Doctor needed my help, so I ignored my friend!" Jezabell's voice was loud, but yet she wasn't quite yelling. He eyes were widened slightly and angry, but the rest or her face seemed almost relaxed. Jezabell wasn't actually angry anymore, but she wanted to give off the effect that she was. The Doctor's eyes were sad. Jezabell's voice and eyes went calmer. "But it really isn't my fault, either, is it? At least not entirely. She could have gone the other way. She could have realized that she was right the first time, or something. I'm not blaming her for her death, I'm blaming the people who made her so self-conscious; her parents. No, it isn't really their fault either. It's mine, and even partly my other friends. We left her alone. We let her be alone. That's something we've never done befor
before when she needed us."
There was a moment of silence. The two of them barely even made eye contact.
"Doctor?" Jezabell asked. "You seem sad. Don't be. I wasn't blaming you or anything."
"Yeah, I know." The Doctor said. "But it is sad; your friend died."
"I know, but I got over it. It's been nine months, Doctor. I don't dwell on things. I move on."
"You said she was your best friend, but yet you moved on from her death?"
"Yes, she was my best friend, but people die. Dying is a part of living. If she wasn't meant to die, she wouldn't have. Everybody dies, Doctor."
"Believe me, I know." The Doctor sighed.
"I've had many deaths in my life, and I get over each one with time. And each time it's easier." They stood there for a moment, not taking.
"If you want, you can have the paintings. No one is ever going to see them, so you can take them. Obviously you won't want all of them, but you can have any that you want." Jezabell said, breaking the silence. The look in the Doctors face that gave off all sadness disappeared.
"Yeah, sure," He said, and went around to look at the paintings again to choose his favorite. "Thanks."
"You're welcome. Just hurry, please. I have to set up for my art show; which you're welcome to come to."
"Okay."
About fifteen minutes later, Jezabell and the Doctor emerged from the secret door to the basement, carrying loads of paintings in their arms, and, for Jezabell, a box. Jezabell quickly stopped in the pizza shop to tell John to bring the tables to the park. The Doctor lead Jezabell to his TARDIS before they went to the park so that he could put the paintings away.