Chapter 4: The Artist
Running, screaming, panicking, searching. For who? Who was I searching for? What's going on? I spin on my heels and my blonde hair whips my face. Everything comes back to me. Daleks, Cybermen, rift cracked, the Doctor. I was searching for the Doctor. Doomsday. That's what they called it. Where was he...? I was outside of Torchwood, looking everywhere for him and his companion. Torchwood! He must be inside! Bang! A building nearby was demolished. Running, screaming, searching... again. What to do? Where to go? I can't do this! "DOCTOR!"
I wake with a jolt, sitting upright in bed. But I fall right back down when I realize it was just one of my crazy dreams. 'When will they end...?' I head out to the console room where the Doctor is snoring a chair next to the controls. Funny, didn't think he really slept.
"Doctor," I say, seeing if he'll wake up. He didn't. I go over to the console, flip a few switches, and head to the door. When I hear the, oddly, familiar ding of the TARDIS telling my the air filter is safely in a bubble around it. How I knew how to do that? I don't know... But I ignore it and sit with my feet hanging out of the door, staring at the stars I've always loved.
I've always thought of the stars as my home. Home is where the heart is, right? Some people have their homes as their house, or their work, or a different country, my friend always said that her home was Hogwarts... Yes, the one from the Harry Potter series. I thought it was a little funny that she saw her home as a fictional wizardry school. But Storie was always a little weird. Always saying she'd runaway any day, dropping everything, just to go home. Storie was my best friend... Before she was murdered in a bank robbery three years ago.
I trailed from my depressing thoughts of my old friend and came to thoughts of my new life and my new friend. He is the most impossible person ever to exist and I was lucky enough to be impossible with him. But what will happen with my life on Earth? Will I have to quit my job? Will I take up a full time life up here, in the stars? Will he ever get rid of the bunk beds!?
The last question that swam its way through my mind made me chuckle. But I didn't want to think about the future, I wanted to take my mind away from everything completely. But that just lead to a trickier subject: Who was the Artist and why was she in my dreams? Why wasn't I just myself in my dreams? I've never heard of anyone being anyone but themselves while dreaming? As my favorite song goes, 'A dream is a wish your heart makes' . But, as far as I know, my heart has no desire for me to be this 'Artist' girl. Why was the Doctor in one of my dreams? Does it mean something that I just happened to miss?
My mind reeled but I was pulled back to reality when I heard a faint whisper. In my voice... Now is the time... Open me... Now is the time... Open me... Now is the time... Over and over again, I heard it loud and clear, now. I looked down at my bracelet and knew, somehow, it was coming from inside. I reached over and opened the locket. In a flash, memories came rushing back to me. I screamed.
The Doctor awoke and ran to me. "Alex! Alex what is it? Whats wrong?" He asked, frantically.
"D-Dying, D-Doctor. I'-I'm so-sorry." The words were hard to get out, but I forced them through my lips.
"No! No. Please. What happened, Alex? What happened?" He asked. He held me in his arms and rocked me back and forth. I could see the sadness and worry in his eyes.
"Ar..tist... Doctor... Its... m-me..." I said.
"Artist? Oh... Artist, what happened?" He said. The sadness grew when I told him it was me. It was the Artist.
"Daleks..." I said.
"What? No... No, no, no... Artist, please." I saw the realization shoot through him at that moment. "Why aren't you regenerating?"
"Shot... before... complete..." Was all I could get out. After that, it all went black. My mad man in a bow tie was drown out by darkness and my stars were turned off. Death was peaceful, though. A bit like sleep, but forever.
I woke up in my bed in the TARDIS. A little weak and exhausted, but I had enough strength to lift my head. AWAKE? I'M AWAKE? HOW?
"I'm sorry." I hear his voice and my eyes shoot over to his figure, sitting beside my bed.
"You didn't... Doctor, please say you didn't!" I plead.
"I'm sorry. I couldn't watch you die." He told me.
"That was a precious regeneration! You needed that! I know how reckless you've gotten over the years." I said.
"I know. But you needed it more than I." He said.
I sigh in defeat. "At least give me a mirror. I want to know what I look like." I say.
He hands me a mirror and I stare at my shocking appearance. Stark red hair, hazel eyes, perfect eyebrows. I smile and see slightly crooked teeth. I don't, necessarily, think it's my best regeneration, but its not my worst.
I look over at the Doctor. "What do you think?" I ask him.
"The hair is little much, but its nice." He says.
"Oh, but I love the hair! Never had an unnatural color before."
"Well, me neither, and I don't ever plan to."
I chuckle and try to get up, but the Doctor keeps me in bed. "Rest. Regenerating can be tricky." He said.
"You'd know! You've regenerated ten times!"
"Yep. But I miss my last appearence. I was a bit more... sexy."
"I miss your first appearence. Innocent eyes and shaggy hair."
"Yeah... I miss your first appearence, also." He said.
I smile at him.
"So, now will you tell me?" He asks. "What happened?"
"I was on a Dalek ship. They were all after me. I ran for my TARDIS but one of them hit me. And right there, in the middle of the Dalek ship, I started to regenerate. I didn't know how to stall it. I'd only done it once before. But one hit me again, while I was regenerating. I made it to my TARDIS just in time to preserve myself as a human. Because, I knew-"
"You knew that it was the only way you were going to live." He says, cutting me off.
"Yeah..."
