DISCLAIMER: I do not own Doctor Who, but Alexia and the plot are mine!

Author's Note: There are some weird names towards the end. Puiule is pronounced Poo-yoo-lei, and Siouhlll is pronounced "Soul".

Review Replies:
TrashedAndScatteredSidewinder/F.R.: I'm so happy that you're enjoying it. And it's okay about the double post, haha, but I don't think your sonic screwdriver-pen worked! ): Maybe you should check to see if it's still operating correctly? Lol.
BlueEyedDreamer97/Kris: Damn, you're pretty good! Haha. Yes, Alexia is a Time Lord/Lady, only she doesn't know it, well more like remember it. I'm glad that you're enjoying it as well! I'll try to update as much as possible. :)
RandomHandsome: Aw, thanks! I reread and rewrite a lot. haha. And I will keep typing away! xD

Chapter 4: Horror City

Laying on my back with the stark-white ceiling staring back at me, I find it impossible to sleep. Insomnia keeps me from sleeping much anyway; I only ever slept half as much as everyone else did in boot camp. Funny thing is, I was always the first one to finish the drills and the least worn out by the end of the day. I often find myself thinking about that, trying to make sense of it, but never can.

I toss and turn, trying to find a comfortable position. After nearly a month of sleeping in caves and high up in tree branches, a normal bed feels almost too comfortable— so luxurious that it's actually uncomfortable and hurts my spine. With nothing better to do, I find my mind wandering over the past few days; over the fire in the woods, and the military base. Also, I think vaguely of the nightmarish memories that keep resurfacing, but they're so horrible that I shove them away and lock them into a dark corner of my mind before I can make any sense of them.

Somehow, my mind eventually falls upon the Doctor. Why does he get under my skin so much? And, there's something so familiar about him, like a knowledge, an understanding, deep within my bones, but it's so far away that I can't quite see it clearly. He says that he's from another world, another galaxy, but he looks as human as anyone. Deep down, I know that he really isn't human despite how much I try to convince myself that he is. He's just some guy from the future that's making a joke of my ignorance, I try telling myself, but I know it's a lie. How do I know it's a lie though? There has to be some reason... right?

Not liking where my thoughts are going, I roll out of the bed. Aimlessly, I walk the halls for hours, fighting to fend off the intruding thoughts, fighting to keep my mind blank. It's futile effort. After some time, I find myself in the hotel's bar, thinking of my grandpa. Papa was always there for me. Never did he shy away from telling me the truth, and no matter what, he always supported me. That is, before a stranger decided to take him away from me in the form of three bullets, aimed straight for his chest. From that day on, I vowed to never let myself love someone like that again; to never to get attached again. What's the point? All that love is, is cruel and unfair.

I hoist myself into a bar stood and absentmindedly drum out a rhythm on the marble countertop. Glancing around the room, I see that there's enough moonlight slanting through the windows to see most of the room a ghost-like glow. Sighing to myself, I think of how terrible it is to not have any power. Stumbling around in the dark and never getting a hot shower, I wonder how life was like before there ever was electricity to begin with. This though throws me into a memory.

The sun feels warm against my skin. A big, heavy dress covers my body and dirt from the unpaved road covers my feet. The heavy stench of human waste fills my lungs and I fight to keep from gagging over the smell, but besides that, the place is beautiful.
Horse drawn carts rumble by as merchants yell out, attempting to sell their goods. I look over to the man that stands beside me. We're holding hands.
"Isn't this interesting?" He asks with a bright smile—a smile that melts me to my core, and I find myself smiling back.
When I look away I see two young children, the boy looks no older than ten and the girl seems to be around the age of five. They are reaching out to pet a white stallion whose rider grins down at them kindly. Seeing those children fills my heart with a strange warmth that can't be explained—

Just as suddenly as it came, the image of the past is gone. I wish desperately to bring it back, but it's lost somewhere in my mind. Frustrated, I abruptly leave the bar room, wondering who those people in my vision could be. The thought of them fills me with both sadness and joy, each conflicting emotion so strong that they threaten to tear me in half.

More wandering, in mostly blacked-out halls, and I find a gift shop near the front entrance. Large, wall-length windows line one of the walls and I find the Doctor looking at the many trinkets that fill the shelves. He picks some up, examining them in that way he does with everything else, trying to find secrets in the curves and textures of everything he sees. Not wanting to disturb him, I turn to leave, but he starts to talk to me instead.

"Couldn't sleep, huh?" He doesn't sound surprised. When I don't answer he looks up at me, revealing the thick-rimmed glasses perched on his nose.

"I didn't know you wear glasses." Once the words come out I realize how dumb they sound.

"Are you alright?" He asks, never looking away. Though he asks this often, I'm caught off guard by the words.

"Well, ye-yeah. I'm fine, I guess... I'm okay." I stumble ungracefully over my words. The Doctor looks at me awhile, waiting for me to open up to him. Part of me wants to, but I can find no words to describe anything I'm thinking or feeling.

"Come look at this."

I walk over and see he's holding a tiny statue of a weeping angel. Knowing there's a reason he's showing me this, I ask, "What is it?"

"A Weeping Angel. Well, not the real thing. Just a figure. The real things are much more terrifying, and, well, real." He says in his rambling sort of way, only this time it doesn't irritate me.

"What's a Weeping Angel?" I find myself looking at him instead of the angel in his hands.

"It's a creature. Ancient. Been around for centuries, they have. Always attacking when the victim isn't looking. Angels of death, in a way. Not that they kill you themselves. They just send you to your death." My eyes go wide.

"What do you mean?"

"If you're not looking and they touch you, BANG! You've been sent back in time with no way of getting to your home era. And then you just... die. And nobody from home ever knows what happened to you. You just disappear." A shiver ran down my spine.

"Is that why you hardly ever blink?"

"Part of the reason, yeah."

"What's the other part?" I ask, involuntarily leaning closer to him. Instead of answering he just continues running his eyes over the little things the gift shop has to offer.

"If you're not going to sleep then would you like to head back to the forest?" He asks suddenly.

I agree but suggest that we get something to eat on our way out. In the kitchen, I open the industrial sized fridge, scanning all the possibilities. Something begins to dawn on me. I close the fridge and open it again. Light glows brightly from its inside, illuminating the farthest reaches of the interior. Over my shoulder, I glace at the Doctor. He's leaning against the counter, arms crossed over his chest and a smirk on his face like he knows something.

Again, I close the fridge, walking over to the wall of the kitchen, feeling around for a light switch. On and off I flick it, but nothing happens. I walk back to the fridge and open it. It's working! I was so hungry earlier that I hadn't even noticed, but the Doctor clearly had.

"Let's go," I say urgently and drop some money on the counter with a quick note of what we took and a brief explanation that we were hungry travelers on our way through the city.

Outside the cool night air caresses my cheeks.

"It's so beautiful out here." I say aloud.

"Yes, it is. And it's nice to see that you have hair after all and it wasn't just a bird's nest on top of your head." The Doctor jokes. Self-consciously, I run my fingers through my now-groomed hair and blush slightly, thankful that it's dark enough to hide the redness.

"You're not so bad looking yourself." I shoot back, and then I realize that it's true—he is quite attractive. "Even for a time-traveling alien." I add to take some weight of the words. He laughs slightly. "What are you, anyway?" I ask and look sidelong at him.

"You'll figure it out," he smirks again with that knowing look of his. I don't know how I'm going to figure it out and I don't feel like asking.

Walking ahead of him, I try peering through the shop windows along the street, but the moon doesn't offer enough light to see that well. Plus, most of the windows are tinted. I feel eyes on me and in my peripheral vision I catch the Doctor looking at me. This is something he does often, looking at me when he thinks that I don't notice, like there's something about me that he can't quite understand.

In the side of my vision I study him, too. It's miraculous that I haven't realized just how handsome he is with those big brown eyes that look like a steaming cup of hot chocolate—warm and sweet. An old-fashioned, 21st century business suit compliments his tall, thin frame yet clashes with the laid-back nonconformity of his white canvas shoes. It's an absurd outfit, no doubt about it, but he can pull it off well. What a strange being he is, and so passionate. Always thinking and analyzing and scrutinizing everything he sees. His intelligence is astounding. The quirky way that he rambles off and begins to talk too fast makes me want to laugh and warms my insides yet at the same time it frustrates me—it makes me feel as though some part of me is missing, some part that is dying to surface that will allow me to comprehend what he's going on about.

Suddenly, the eerie feeling of being watched washes over me, and I know that it's not from the curious eyes of the Doctor. It's the same stillness like when we first arrived in the city. Hurriedly, I go back to the Doctor's side, away from the shop windows, and reach out for his hand. When he accepts mine, I urge him to walk faster. I can tell that he senses it, too, because his long legs pick up the pace even more and I'm at an awkward half-walk, half-jog beside him.

From out of nowhere, a sharp pain ignites the left side of my chest. It feels like barbed wire has encased my left heart. It tightens around like a boa. Instantly, I fall to my knees. A blood-curdling scream sets fire to my lungs and throat. My left heart is no longer beating. It's absence throws me off balance and my right heart thunders into overdrive to condensate for loss. My vision goes hazy with the intense pain. A bullet. I've been shot.

The Doctor is right next to me. He half carries, half drags me out of the street, mumbling, "It's okay, you'll be okay. Just hang on!"

With my one frantic heart, blood rapidly spills from the wound. The combined loss of heart and blood turns the city swim around me into a woozy, grey fog. Suddenly, I get slammed into a memory:

Orange sky, foreign yet familiar is above me. Explosions light up the sky. Rubble cascades around me like a shower of death and destruction. I hear bombs going off and distant screams as I run frantically through the desolate, war-torn streets. My legs are moving so fast that they don't feel real. When I heard about the attack on the school, I was not only horrified, but also repulsed that the Darlek would attack innocent children.
The ground buckles and blows up under my feet, throwing me back several yards. I scramble back up. The usually orange-tinged air is filled with black dust and falling debris. Running over chunks of cement that once were tall, elaborate buildings, I stumble along as fast as I can. Ahead of me is the school. I'm almost there! My babies, they'll be safe soon!
Two children run towards me, panic and tears evident on their faces. A twelve-year-old boy and a seven-year-old girl. I force myself to run even faster.
"Siouhlll! Puiule!" I call them, my voice an insane shriek.
Another bomb detonates, tossing my forward and sprawling me out on my stomach. I glance up, frantically looking for my children. Relief floods over me briefly when I see that they're still running to me. I jump to my feet and keep going, desperate to reach them, to have them in my arms again.
Almost there! I'm just barely a length away from encasing my babies in my arms. I can save them.
BOOM!
Another explosion goes off, close by. It takes a while for my sigh to return to me and my ears are ringing. Only vaguely, I realize the pain throughout my body, feel the hot sticky substance from my wounds trickle down my body. I look around me, everything seeming distant and slow.
Screams pierce through the whistle in my ears and I see Puiule crouched next to her brother, both coated in more blood than skin. Siouhlll remains un-moving in the rubble. "NO!" I screech. I get back up after being knocked to the ground, yet again, and try to scramble over to my children. The loss of blood and my injury cause the ground to spin and lurch toward my face, but I keep moving forward. My hair is matted to my face with blood and sweat and tears. I'm still the same distance away when the last bomb went off despite my unflagging efforts to run to my daughter and son.
"Come!" I call out, but it's only a gurgled sound, the sweet, metalic taste of blood filling my mouth.
It takes all my effort, energy, and will power to inch forward, but I do. Hope soars in me; I might be able to reach them, then I can regenerate, then we can get out of here.
BOOM!
Debris and rubble shower around me. This time not even the ringing in my ears comes. I can hear absolutely nothing. But I can still see. I wish I was blind, for the image before me is so heart-wrenching and so horrifying. Just ten feet ahead of me, my two lovely little angels are sprawled out in pools of their own blood, their bodies shredded and mangled. Stone dead. Not even a last moment chance to regenerate. The loudest, wildest, most enraged, tortured scream errupts through my chest, up my throat and out of my mouth.

Blood-curdling screams snap me out of the vision of something so horrible, it's hard to believe that it really happened, but I know with every fiber of my being that it was real and that it did happen, even though I don't understand what it is or what it means. Once I realize the screaming is coming from me, I cut the sound off abruptly. My eyes struggle to focus and when they do, the Doctor's face is surprisingly close to mine. Eons worth of pain pierce through his eyes, the torture so sharp that I reach up to touch his face in a comforting gesture. He catches my hand and squeezes it, tight.