Will We Meet Again?
Chapter 4. Coming to terms
A/N: Hello once again, readers. I greatly apologize for slow updates, but like many writers, I've been taking time to become motivated for this story. With no proper schedule for when I update, I feel that I have the time I need to get you guys a good chapter without stressing.
I can let you know that if the OC seems unappealing right now, know that she's still growing and dealing with the unfortunate hand she's been served. Give her time and I'm sure she'll turn out to be a very fleshed out character.
Thanks again for reading!
Entry no. 3
Abience
(n.) the strong urge to avoid someone or something.
Even if it's just to forget.
"You're a sly fox, you know that?" I huffed, narrowing my eyes at the ceiling.
A resounding hum, laced with mischief, was all I got in return.
The TARDIS had taken to moving the hallways around – breaking me out of the little survival regimen I was trying to set for myself. All I wanted to do was find a kitchen or a pantry, but it seemed like this was her way of punishing me for not having the balls to do anything but hide.
I had spent the next few hours, after I ran from the Doctor, curled up in a ball underneath the soft velvet sheets of my new bed.
For the first time in my life, I was alone. A huddled heap of matted hair and bloodshot eyes, I sat alone – utterly terrified in the darkness. It was like the dark was slowly eating away at my thoughts. My mother wasn't there to soothe my fears, and neither was Jackson to tell me stories through his drawings. It was just me, alone in a strange place with strange people.
It had been hours. Or at least it felt like hours. There was no way for me to tell really, trapped in the confining walls of the room. There were no clocks anywhere – even the time displayed on the screen of my phone seemed to bug out, numbers constantly switching back and forth to opposing answers. My phone was practically useless now anyway - without a wifi connection to be found and no apparent way to call anyone up here in space, I struggled to do anything but waste time on mind-numbing games I'd installed years ago.
I didn't know whether this loss of tech had the potential to be freeing or inversely maddening. I hadn't been around long enough to find out.
The only indicator of night and day seemed to be the feint lighting that shone through the window of my room. Although I wouldn't really know – ever since the first hour I spent in the room, the window was the only thing I wouldn't look at. It was the only thing there that really bummed me out – like a mirage, I knew if I kept looking at it, I'd spend the rest of my life trying and failing to find signs of life behind the foggy glass.
Instead of lamenting over it, I would follow a pattern instead, anything to get my mind off everything. I'd spend an eternity riling myself up and getting motivated to face-off against the time-lord I had left behind. Secondly, walking over to the door and engaging in an intense stare-off with the inanimate barrier.
And lastly, giving up to return to the safety of my thoughts.
As much as I hated to admit it, I was afraid. I didn't want to move forward if it meant what I thought it meant. The TARDIS was infinite – I was just one of the many small spaces that made up the ship. I was ok with this grey area I had, hidden away from everything.
But if I went out there, demanding a result that he could never give me – and knowing for absolutely certain that I could never get home...
I don't know what that would do to me.
I had taken nicely to a guitar I had found stuffed inside the wardrobe of the bedroom. I'd been excavating all the crevices and cabinets I could find to stave off boredom, because even though I felt like I didn't belong here – I knew that the TARDIS lured me to it for a reason.
Heck, it was an exact replica my room – I didn't think it was too much of a stretch to believe that it was meant for me.
The wardrobe was filled to the brim with clothes that were just like what I would wear on a daily basis. It was then, against the vibrant lights of the TARDIS, that I realised how much I really dressed like a ninja. Almost everything in the closet looked like it belonged to a younger, less graceful Morticia Addams – The rack being mostly clad in stark black clothes. A more 'dressed-up' emo was a great title for this aesthetic.
Back home, I could never go anywhere without my ink black combat boots that were a size too big for me. My feet were already small enough to make me look like a child, so having the option of looking more badass helped.
Unfortunately, getting here in my PJ's meant I had left them back at the foot of my real bed – much to my dismay. The closet had shoes that would be fine for now, but I honestly just wanted my own things back.
Oddly enough, among all the things that felt plastic-y and untouched in the room, the Fender guitar I had found was the only thing familiar enough to make me sigh in remembrance.
The guitar looked just like the one I had owned back home, except that unlike the chipped, worn amber wood that made the base of my old guitar, this one was smooth and brand new.
My mother had gifted it to me on Christmas day when I was about seven – even though we were without much money at the time. Jackson wasn't even born yet, and my father – who I didn't know very well – was off on one of his many 'adventures' around the world.
My mum had retold the story of how she got it, only once, before we had moved to the states – and even so, the story was difficult to get out of her. 2007 had been a tough year on her. Back when she actually tried, she had to work two jobs because of how tight the money was, and practically being a single parent didn't make things any easier. Dad would only come visit once in a blue moon, if I remembered correctly. When he did, he'd share with us his earnings from all the odd jobs he'd do – working as an architect, dabbling in being a sailor, even trying his hand being a treasure hunter – only to leave shortly after, leaving us to take of ourselves once again. That's the truth I had heard as a kid – but looking at it now, as a semi-adult, I couldn't help but doubt the validity of his words.
Anyway, with Christmas just around the corner, Mom had recounted how she had looked over her books and felt ill. She simply couldn't afford to get any proper gifts that year, and it broke her heart, especially because of how much I loved the idea of Christmas.
We weren't particularly religious, not really belonging to any one religion in the first place. My mother's parents were devout Muslims that had shunned their daughter the minute she had eloped with a white, catholic man. However, her lack of regret in the moment, when my mother had told me, was something that taught me to always follow what I wanted and not blindly give in to the desires of others.
Regardless of that, Christmas just seemed like a universal time of happiness; something we felt we really needed during that time in our lives. I was terribly excited since I kept getting my hopes up that year, saying how much I wished it would snow. Mom had stayed up late that Christmas night, worrying all over the idea of how disappointed I would be once morning came. She had woken up early that day and stared sadly at the empty space beneath the tree...
Before she heard a knock at the door.
She opened the door with a baseball bat at the ready, since she wasn't a fool and it was very late on the estate after all. There was nothing there except a slightly used guitar with a note attached.
'She's going to be fantastic. Merry Christmas.'
It read in messy, loopy handwriting. Normally she'd be worried about weirdo's and stalkers but that night – That night it was Christmas Eve and my mother knew not to look a gift horse in the mouth. So she quietly hauled it inside, careful not to accidentally touch any of the strings. It was then, in the morning when she was awoken by loud, musical strumming accompanied by squeals and shrieks of delight, did she take a moment to say a silent thank you to whomever had helped her.
The kind strangers' actions had partially inspired my undying faith in people, letting me know that no matter how dark of a place the world could get, you could never truly snub out the compassion of human beings.
Since then, I tried my best to master the guitar and even though I got quite good after years of hard work and practice, I could still fumble if I wasn't concentrating hard enough.
Throughout the time I spent cooped up by myself, the TARDIS turned out to be quite the companion to me. I was right when I figured that she couldn't follow me into the safe confines of my room – for some reason, she was blocked from entering. This restriction however, didn't stop her from helping me out when I had to avoid the Doctor, moving corridors so that I could easily creep to the kitchen without running into him.
The Doctor. I had done my best to handle the situation without thinking of him, which was kind of like scrapping 90% of the whole crazy ordeal.
I wished I could say I was indifferent when I heard far-off shouts, calling for me – But all that registered was; he was actually looking for me.
I would've thought he didn't care – that he was as indifferent to me as I wanted to be with him. He probably had a hell of a lot to do, being a freaking time-lord after all. When I ran, I figured that he'd just wait me out – like a grown-up waiting for a kid who they can't find during a game of hide and seek.
Knowing that he was actually looking for someone as cowardly as me – it just added to the guilt.
It was then, as I was sitting upside down on the armchair, propping my legs to rest on the part where your back goes – did I hear the static of a television. It was a small, cubed box – heavy and clunky that sat in the corner of the room. I had saved some extra cash to get it so that Jackson and I could watch those cartoons he loved – but just like everything else in the fake-room, it worked ten times better than the one at home.
The flashing gave way to show me the alien I had just been thinking of. The visual had the Doctor sitting crouched in the middle of a corridor with his arms propped on his knees. He was breathing heavily, as though he had just run a mile.
I couldn't look away, my heart squeezing at the sight of him. Lines of worry were stitched into his face, making him look much older than he seemed. His eyes were clamped shut as if he was thinking deeply over what to do. I didn't even notice how I had placed a hand on the screen – as if to console him. This was surely the TARDIS's very own form of revenge, making me realise what a piece of trash I was being. She obviously cared deeply for her thief.
I looked back at the screen. Damn, he must really care. A large part of me berated myself for letting this go on for so long.
What should I do?
I was taught young how to be stone-cold and self-reliant, to hold myself high and poised even if I didn't mean it. I learnt early on to cry behind closed doors, with the lights off – to never ask for help.
I could snub someone out in a heartbeat, after all; what did it matter? Strangers came and left – I didn't need them. All I wanted was my family and the characters I considered family through pages of paper.
It would be so easy. To ignore the Timelord. To spend the rest of my life living in a cheap imitation of where I once belonged. The TARDIS had everything I could ever need as long as I didn't think too hard about it.
It would be so easy.
"Shit." I cursed under my breath.
I felt my resolve break as I moved swiftly to the door. The second the door was open, I looked up to address the patient ship. "Take me to him, please."
I left the room I had gotten well-acquainted with in the past... however long, padding softly but quickly along the stretches of corridor before I came across him.
He was in the same position I had seen on the screen, as I walked up beside him. Before I could get all the way to him, his eyes darted open as his head whipped over to me. He seemed just as surprised by my arrival as I was of how he essentially put his life on hold to look for me.
"You-um...uh..." He looked mortified as he fumbled for words, yet kept tripping over what to say. I let a small huff of amusement slip when I felt the corners of my mouth turn up.
To think, the great 'Oncoming Storm' with all his fancy titles and centuries of life experience could be rendered speechless by an out-of-sorts teenage girl.
"Hi." My voice put an end to his scrambling. The word was barely above a whisper as I momentarily forgot the strife I had been dealing with for the past twenty-four hours. My smile turned a tad forced when I realised how I was, once again, face-to-face with this alien. Coming to terms with the fact that he wasn't a dream definitely made him more intimidating.
"Hi," he echoed, still seemingly dazed by my presence. He adjusted his signature red bow-tie quickly and swept a hand across his floppy chocolate brown hair, watching as I took a seat next to him on the floor.
We sat shoulder-to-shoulder on the cold, metal ground, each taking our time to assess the situation. I observed him as he sat cross-legged beside me, twiddling his thumbs, clearly bristling with energy and trying to keep it suppressed as he thought of what to say.
I exaggeratedly huffed the hair out of my eyes.
"So, just so we're on the same page and I'm not missing any pieces of crucial info; I've figured you're real – really real, and not just a character from a T.V show – and that I'm trapped here, in your timeline without a single way back home. It has to be because this is a different universe – a parallel one, because there's no way you exist otherwise." I concluded, raising an eyebrow at him, "Is that everything?"
I knew that staying cool would let me watch him to see if he'd slip up on any of my questions – I needed to know for absolute sure he wasn't lying. Also, silence didn't suit the clumsy man that I felt I knew so much about without actually knowing him, so I decided to spruce up and try to get rid of the awkwardness that was so apparent in the air.
"Those are the essentials, yes..." The Doctor seemed taken aback by my level-headedness, like he'd expected me to break into tears at even admitting that I believed all this. He shook his head. "Sorry, just thought you'd take longer to get your head around–" He whistled, trailing off as he pointed to the sky. "You did just think this was a dream up to a while ago, if my memory still works half as well as it used to."
I nodded my head wryly, my tone slow. "There is a lot I'm open to believing about the universe – the existence of the lost city of Atlantis, parallel dimensions, a possible destination after death, real aliens. But trust me, there is no reality in which I'm clever enough to dream this up – at least not in this much detail."
He gave me a funny look, and I had to laugh out a breathy sound at myself as I looked at him properly. I had flashbacks to when I had been lying face-to-face with his younger self – marvelling over the reality of it.
"I mean, look at you," I stressed, wanting him to understand as I looked at his face intently. "You have lines, pores, little bits that you just don't think of in fiction or in dreams. So yes, this is real or I'm officially mentally insane."
What a way to break the tension, me.
Well it seemed to have worked slightly, as his creased forehead smoothed out and his eyebrows lifted with some understanding.
"Yes, Human brains are tricky to comprehend. And they're just as good at tricking you right back – what with their never-ending sources of creativity," He hummed. After a moment, his eyebrows drooped, and I found that he couldn't meet my eyes. "I'm sorry. I know that it's difficult to feel like you don't know your own mind. It's caused a good many to go mad. I'd never wanted you to feel that way."
"Well, I feel sane, so that's a temporary positive," I smiled slightly, waving it off. "But that's less important. What I want to know is if there's anything else that's important. It's enough of a story-book premise I suppose, a girl trapped in a fictional land. I just want to know if there's anything that complicates it."
He nodded. "Well, you do also know everything that happens on each of my travels through time and space. Which, in of itself, is remarkably dangerous–" He spoke, looking like he was about to go off on a long rant about the logistics of my foreknowledge.
"Yeah, that too – tell me something I don't know," I huffed in a light, airy voice, exasperated by the idea. I could already imagine instances in which that could prove to be a problem.
"That's quite the dangerous statement, my dear. Since there are many things you don't know, and many more things that should be kept secret," He added in mischievously with an ominous voice.
"You're annoyingly cryptic, old man," I shot back, smiling as I felt the tension between the two of us begin to alleviate.
"I try to be," He ended, chuckling lightly in the half-lidded, teeth-showing kind of way this version of him did when he was content. Again, I had to remind myself, I had to get used to how real it looked.
"Besides–" I sighed, "–The last version of you already summed that up quite nicely, I think. Stuff about not being allowed to mess with time – not killing your grandad and all that."
"Yep," He scratched his head, indicating a sort of unwillingness to talk about his past and that night. I wasn't really keen on pushing either – if I'd known that this was real, that he was real... well there's no way I'd ever have let myself act so open in front of him. It had gone from being a no-risk game of stakes to this odd predicament between strangers. I felt so aware of all my motions – and suddenly, there was no kind of comfort to be had here.
I shook off the blush of embarrassment from my face.
"So, everything about me – how you know me, how I can be here – It's all spoilers?" I poked, raising my eyebrows. I had to stop myself from purring the word in a cheap imitation of River Song.
"Yeah, that's what you tend to call them," He chuckled, "Spoilers."
We flittered back into silence – a much more comfortable one at that.
Listening to the rumbles and groans that came from inside the walls of the ship, I couldn't help my mind from already trying to think up conspiracies. As an overall, I was pretty taken aback by how he was acting with me. Normally, this version of the Doc kept every ounce of true emotion locked away – especially in his early years. Hell, it took Amy most of her entire life, to get close enough to see how much he cared for her.
"Honestly, I'm surprised. Normally, I'm the kind of girl nobody would go looking for. The TARDIS, she showed me how you kept looking. There aren't many people who'd do what you did for me," I said in an unfamiliarly soft voice – the kind I'd reserve for Jackson. Confused, I coughed awkwardly, rubbing at my nose to gather my senses. I brought my knees up to my chest as I refused to look at him. "Don't respond to that. I already feel like I'm taking crazy pills and I'd rather not add to that, just- Thank you. I needed the push."
I shuddered to think of how I could have probably spent years and years just hiding and pretending that I was living a perfectly normal life as long as I didn't leave that room. Out the corner of my eye, I could see him nod his head.
"So- what happens now? Will you drop me off somewhere?" I asked him anxiously, feeling an unfamiliar sort of dread at the idea of being completely alone – without anyone in the world to rely on. If this indeed was a parallel world, there was nowhere I'd belong anyway.
He had said before that the weird light kept me tethered to his life, but still, I imagine that wouldn't stop him from wanting to get rid of me if he wanted. He could throw me out, and after a few hours when I reappeared in a different regeneration's time, he could do the same again.
I didn't expect anything from the Doctor of course, even if the uprooting from my home was linked to him. I mean, all of his companions had to earn the right to travel with him, and all of them had been so spectacular that they truly deserved it. I, on the other hand, had just showed up. I hadn't earned a place in his heart. I wasn't brave like Sarah Jane or as talented as Martha Jones. I didn't know if I could ever be as confident as Donna, or make him better like Ian and Barbara. I could never help him like Rose did, just by being there.
"Would you want that?" He questioned tiredly, appearing to be stuck between a need to know what I desired and reluctance towards what I might say.
"No? Well, I don't think I would. I've never been on my own before, and the idea of starting a life from scratch is, well– scary," I shuddered, a bit off-put by how easily I was talking to him. I was quite the private person by nature, yet this prawn seemed to have a way of making me talk. "And besides, if what you're saying is true, I wouldn't stay stuck to one place for long. I imagine it'd get tiring after a while, having a home on Earth, but constantly showing up here."
The Doctor nodded along, a kind of electricity passing through his eyes at my sentiment.
"Well then, I think I might have just the solution for that," he replied brightly, getting up and offering me a hand. A charismatic smile donned his face. "Come with me."
"Where to?" I asked blankly, at a loss for what he wanted to show me.
He sighed loudly in reply, reaching down and then pulling me up my forearms. "You're cleverer than that. Look for the double-meaning, Miss Moore."
I let him pull me up, looking at him with my head tilted in confusion. I had a vague guess, that grew into an open-mouthed 'you can't be serious' look. I sputtered, shooting him the widest eyes I had in my arsenal. "You cannot mean what I think you do."
"Bet my lives?" He said cheekily, like my awe was the most amusing thing.
"No." I said gravely, still caught up in the idea. He was asking me? To go with him as a companion would?
I couldn't, for the life of me, imagine myself travelling with the Doctor. I'd probably get him killed the second I stepped out of the TARDIS.
Maybe because I'd want to pet a Dalek or because I'd get exhausted by all the running and start to wonder what'd really be so bad about becoming a Cyber-man.
But more importantly, because I knew – I felt, like I couldn't. I couldn't get too cosy with the idea of this.
"No." I said, more seriously this time, the excitement fading. "I really can't."
"You're already a companion, my dear. How do you think I know you? You have a place here, despite what you may think," He said earnestly, expectantly waiting for an answer, like he thought his words had helped. He had on an innocent face, but all I felt was indignation.
How could he say that to me? That was an abuse of power if I had ever seen it.
By telling me that I would indeed be stuck here – since he had already lived through knowing older versions of me – he knew I couldn't find any cheat ways around it. Like my fate was inevitable – like I had no control over it.
But that's when I noticed. Something behind his eyes was a little wild – almost desperate. Did he really want me to say yes?
"You can't do that," I stopped him with angry eyes. I pointed a finger at him crossly. "You can't just say that, because it's already happened for you; I need to say 'Screw it, sure! Let's go see space."
"So is that a no?" His lips pouted and he suddenly looked down-cast. The bastard was giving me his signature puppy-dog eyes and I finally figured out how he still managed to stay alive after facing the deadliest of enemies and living without a penny to his name. No one could say no to that face.
The sigh that came was a signal, not of my resolve leaving but of the level my tension had reached. Like an old kettle - still full even when some steam forced its way out.
I had absolutely no idea what I was doing. I was a quiet person whose adventures had always only been of the literary kind. But now it was like I was standing at an intersection with a whole heap of possible paths I could go down. Unsurprisingly many of them seemed to lead to an untimely death if I chose to stay with this man too long. But I wouldn't let it get to that.
I knew that I had a goal – but I suppose it meant that I'd have to tag along with the Doctor for the time being.
"It looks like I don't have much of a choice, do I? Nevertheless, it doesn't cancel out my argument. For as long as I'm stuck here, you can't use these timeline things to your advantage like that." I felt my ears go hot as I continued my tirade.
I knew I was being a bit of a bitch, but I wanted to make it perfectly clear to him;
I wasn't given a choice.
Regardless of how perfectly whimsical this all seemed – I had a life I still had to live, with people who depended on me. Almost every companion the Doctor would bring aboard would be at their limit – fed up with life in one way or another until they were tempted to leave it all behind for the madman in a suit. And besides, it didn't hurt that they got to leave whenever they wanted.
I wondered briskly, that if we would have met normally on one of his many escapades on earth – if maybe, I would've been tempted too.
"As long as you're stuck here?' Does that mean you're fine with...?" He gestured largely to the space around him, "What about-" He hesitated, his tongue stuck on the word, "Your family?"
I felt my throat tighten.
Out the corner of my eye, it was like I could almost see him. An unruly mop of blonde hair and sparkling chestnut eyes.
"Aapi, I'll be fine."
I hadn't heard him speak in a while – but the memory often did a better job than we give it credit.
He always did that; act like he wasn't just a little boy who needed anyone to take care of him. He'd try and cook for himself, dress himself, even walk to school himself before I'd tell him to tone it down – he was just a kid, after all. Maybe I could be a little overprotective, but it was just because I cared about him too much. He liked to act like he was a grown-up, but I just wanted to give him the chance to stay a kid for as long as he could.
How fast would he have to grow up if I wasn't around?
I was his big sister – we had grown together, we bled the same colours. I'd always be his protector, and he'd always be my champ. How could I ever abandon something like that?
I grinned wryly at the Doctor, no humour to be found.
"Who said I was giving up? I don't know where you stand Doctor, but to me – you don't just give up on family. I could never give up on them. If there's even the slightest chance I could get back- I'm taking it." My voice was shaky, but all I could feel was determination. I looked straight into his eyes, my voice edged with the glint of a promise.
"I'm sorry, but for as long as I stay here with you, I'm always going to be looking for a way back."
And I meant it.
Time and Space had loads of opportunities, with crazy shit happening at every turn of the head. Now I knew that where I stood, the walls between parallel worlds were closed. But how many episodes saw them open.
I'd just have to wait for my chance.
The Doctor turned to meet my eyes, too slowly to be normal. When he speaks his voice trails slowly, like his words are unwilling to take flight, "Fiona-"
There's a sadness in his eyes, the hypnotising shade of green too glossy.
He had on one of those indecipherable looks – the kind that spoke volumes on how complex an individual's thoughts could be. He was going to open his mouth to say something, but somehow I could detect the signs of negation.
"Doctor, please don't. Nothing you say could make me feel any differently," I shot back before he could continue. My mind had one clear path right now but I was scared of how easily I felt the hope I carried could shatter with just a few words from him.
"Just keep moving. That's all I can do, right now."
He gave me a solitary nod before we began walking down the corridor.
Silence hung heavy in the air, but right as I was making my way out my sulky headspace, I felt the side of him bump into me. I tilted my head to see that he had returned to his normal hyper, un-coordinated self.
He flashed me a debonair grin before taking my hand and saying, "Well, just before you arrived, I dropped Amelia Pond back home to gather up her stuff. She's just started travelling with us." He looked at me expectantly to confirm I knew who he was talking about.
I nodded in recognition and he beamed, albeit a little bit scared that I'd refuse him. "Whatd'ya say, Miss Moore, would you like to go on your first adventure?"
"Fix me up six cups of coffee and we're good to go," I muffled tiredly through a yawn.
Even though I tried to hide it, I couldn't truly suppress the child in me who had always wondered what it'd be like to join the man beside me on one of his great adventures. Excitement got the better of me and I couldn't help but end but grinning alongside the Doctor as we made our way to the console room.
"Aapi" – Older Sister
Afterword: Welcome to the afterword again! I'm sorry about the lack of much action this chapter, but I figured it would be necessary for character building. I've always considered the minor, relationship-building scenes between characters to be quite important and limiting them to their own chapter makes them stand out more.
Once again, I'm trying to make this as realistic of a scenario as possible – which might make this a bit of a slow burn until Fiona can actually find a way to accept this new life of hers. I definitely intend to have it pay off in the end so that whatever happens makes for an interesting story.
If the family angle seems lame to you, then I'm sorry but it'll have a lot to do with the OC and her values. I intend for it to speak mostly for her character and the very, very important emphasis that many Pakistani and Indian people have in the idea of a 'family' or community. I'll introduce how this impacts the Doctor and his companions – especially the Doctor, as we know how he tries to move on from companions he loses by almost forgetting them sometimes.
Don't be shy to leave a review and let me know how you think it's going so far, but even if you don't, thank you for following this story. Till the next time!
