Chapter 10:
John's prediction of a storm was correct. By early Sunday morning, the southern half of England had been hit with a powerful snowstorm. It had come off from the Atlantic and, despite the fact that it had been monitored closely by meteorologists, no one had expected the amount of snowfall, ice, or the fierceness of the wind. When Donna finally woke up Sunday morning, she woke up to find that the power was out and that the heat was threatening to quit on the two.
As she stood up from the couch and fixed her pants, Donna let out a large yawn. She meandered her way into the kitchen to start boiling some water. Donna paused at the window and saw that there was zero visibility outside; the wind and snow had completely plastered the small window with white. Curiosity got the better of Donna, and she placed her hand palm down on the glass window. The chill from outside instantly began to settle in her bones, and Donna pulled back after a few seconds.
"John? John are you here?" Donna called out, breaking the silence of the cold morning.
She was met with a brief second of silence, and then the sound of his squeaky bedroom door. Donna turned around and saw John stumbled onto the living area's cold wooden floorboards with furry slippers and baby blue pajamas. He looked somewhat miserable; his skin looked clammy as if he had been sweating and his hair was disheveled in the back. She must have woken him up. John stretched his arms above his head, showing off his stomach and belly button.
"Oops, sorry. I didn't mean to wake you." Donna said as she returned her attention to the simmering pot of water.
"No, it's okay Donna. I wasn't actually sleeping." John said through a gruff voice, sleep still residing in the back of his throat. He coughed into a balled hand and cleared his throat. John went to the fridge and opened the door. John bent over to look within the fridge, the light no longer working due to the power outage. As he pulled out a small carton of milk, he turned to look back at his friend. "Didn't fall asleep at all last night. I just couldn't."
Donna could feel a confused frown forming at the edges of her mouth. "Not even a couple hours? Look, I know you don't usually sleep that much, but an all-nighter isn't healthy."
"Yeah, well tell my new body that." John remarked as he took out a small glass from the cabinet and set it down on the counter. John filled the glass halfway and took a large gulp of cold milk. He wiped his milk-mustache off with the sleeve from his pajamas. John leaned into the counter and held the glass close to his chest as he continued, shrugging. "Trust me, after the power went out and my laptop died, I wanted to sleep. Went to bed and everything. I just ended up staring at the ceiling for three hours."
"Are you still tired?" Donna asked through a building up shiver, concerned for her friend's health.
John shook his head. "Nah, not at all actually."
Another shiver went through Donna. She left the boiling pot unattended for a few seconds to grab her blanket from off of the couch. She wrapped the green colored fleece blanket around her shoulders and returned to the kitchen. The pot was now boiling profusely, and Donna took it off of the heated stovetop. Donna grabbed two mugs from the clean dish rack and proceeded to make tea. Donna offered one of the cups to John, who took it and poured in a bit of his milk into the tea. Together, the two sipped the still hot beverage.
Donna may have burnt her tongue, to which she exhaled and inhaled air rapidly to cool her mouth. She watched as small swirls of her breath were visible. It reminded her of the mysterious gold substance that John had coughed up yesterday, which made her shudder. Donna didn't want to tell him yet; afraid that more details of his transformation would upset him again. She'd tell him eventually, but that would be later, when things had calmed down.
"It's so cold in here." Donna said, watching as her breath visibly left her mouth again. She eyed John, who looked completely unphased in his thin pajamas. "How are you holding up?"
"I guess the cold doesn't bother me anymore." John said with a nonchalant shrug. He paused for a second before blowing out a somewhat melodramatic sigh. He turned his head to glance at Donna. "My question is what are we going to do today? It's too dangerous to go out right now, and my laptop is dead."
"Well, we can always spend this Sunday in leisure. Have any books you need to read? Homework you need to finish?" Donna offered as she shuffled back her way towards the couch. She sat down and took another hesitant sip from her mug.
"I already finished my homework the night I got shot." John complained through a loud groan. "I guess I can always finish The Lord of the Ri . . . oh no."
At the sound of John's horror, Donna turned to look at him. His face was frozen in terrified revelation. His mug of tea was shaking slightly in his hand, and then he carefully sat it down on the hard surface he was leaning against. Now that his hands were empty, he ran a hand through his brown hair, making the strands stick up even more than they already were. John looked completely stressed, and he was biting his lip as thoughts zipped through his head.
"What am I going to do with school? I can't just go to my classes and say 'hi, I'm John Smith. I just don't look the same anymore'. There's barely twenty students in the entire program! They'll notice me, and they'll notice that I'm not their John." John said, his voice picking up speed the more stressed he felt. He paused to catch his breath, taking a rash sip of his tea during the pause. A second realization dawned on him, and he frowned. "I'm going to have to drop out of school. What else can I do . . ?"
"Don't you think you're taking this a bit too far John?" Donna sighed, feeling like John was taking things too far this early in the morning.
"Donna, you almost didn't let me in the flat Friday night. What would have happened if I wasn't able to convince you? I'd probably be out in the streets right now." John pointed out, actually pointing at the window haphazardly. "And I was only able to convince you because we've spent five entire years together. I wouldn't be able to do that with my professors."
"How about Sarah Jane?" Donna offered. "You could've gone to her Friday. I'm sure you could've convinced her; she is your mother after all."
John let out a shudder. "I'm glad I didn't. After seeing her yesterday with those soldiers, I don't know what would have happened to me. And I don't want to. If she's working for the government, then what would she do?"
John looked at Donna, wondering if her great conspiracy theories would come up with an answer for him. Donna shrugged at that, realization dawning for her as her mouth settled into a grim, thin line.
John continued, his voice low but serious. Again, he was scared. "Probably lock me up in a reinforced cell at the nearest military base, never to be seen again. It wouldn't matter if I was a 'superhuman terrorist' or an 'alien'. They'd never let me see the light of day again, and they'd probably torture me for information."
Donna shrugged again, suppressing a shudder. She understood where John was coming form. The day continued to pass for the friends slowly after that morning conversation. John took up on Donna's offer and went back in his room to search out his Tolkien book collection. When he found them, he returned to the living area and sat down at the base of the couch. With a sigh, he found his place again in The Hobbit, and began to read where he left off years ago.
Donna pulled her knees up towards her torso and grabbed a magazine off of the nearest end table. Now in a comfortable ball of warmth, Donna skimmed through the magazine as she finished her tea. When she finished reading the thin reading material, Donna got up from the couch and took a shower, deciding to use the hot water the building had left before the other tenants' used it all up. To her frustration, the hot water had turned cold within ten minutes.
It felt like hours when the storm finally decided to die down. The sun was now shining in the western half of the sky, informing both friends that their lazy and cold Sunday was beginning to end. Donna was warming up a can of chicken noodle soup on the stove again when the sun was perfectly aligned to shine in her eyes. Donna closed the drapes in the kitchen, effectively shielding her eyes.
When the soup was done cooking, Donna brought two bowls out to the living area and set them down on the table. John, who was already halfway through The Two Towers, looked up and inhaled the smell of the broth. He practically jumped up from his seat and landed at the table. The two sat down together and ate in comfortable silence. The sun, now lower than earlier, was once again shining on Donna. Donna looked at their DVD player by the TV, but saw that since the power was out, so was their means of telling time.
Donna let out a small, frustrated huff. "I wish I knew what time it was. . ."
"It's 6:45." John muttered between slurps of his soup.
"How do you know that? The power's out." Donna questioned, raising an eyebrow at John.
He shrugged, and then paused midway through. He frowned in confusion as he thought. A few seconds passed before John shrugged again in acceptance, showing that it didn't bother him. John sipped at his broth before answering his best friend, a drops of the liquid splattering
"I don't know, an internal clock? I just know that it's 6:45." John said through a mouthful.
Donna shrugged with John; if it didn't bother him she wouldn't let it bother her. The two finished their light dinner soon after that. They returned back to the couch and sat down again. John picked up his book again, and then flipped back to the page he was reading. He hummed a little bit before he started chewing on his lip. John sank down further as he was lost in the battle of Helm's Deep.
Donna pulled out her phone. There was barely any battery left from the whole day. She let out a frustrated sigh as she opened the app to her email. Donna checked the mail, looking to see if any of her job applications had been approved. To her disappointment, she was still left jobless. As the phone notified her of how little battery was left, Donna decided to text her mom and Wilf.
They hadn't sent her a text message or phoned her, but the ginger knew that they would be worried about her.
John and I are fine. Storm only knocked out our power. Battery is dying, won't be able to call you until the power is back on. Stay safe! –Donna, sent: 6:57.
With that, Donna turned off her phone, deciding to save whatever battery she had left in case of an emergency. She plopped her phone into her blanketed lap and then let out a somewhat dramatic sigh. She fell down into a horizontal position, resting her head on the couch's arm. It felt like heaven.
John, who heard her sigh, looked over to his shoulder and gave her a curious look. The look he was giving her seemed almost manic now that his hair was unkempt. Yet, it seemed to work for him. She smiled softly at him before pushing his shoulder in a gentle, playful manner. He returned the push with the side of his book.
"Tired?" John asked, smiling now.
Donna nodded her head. She let out a groan as she closed her eyes and stretched her back. As she settled back down, Donna took the blanket around her body and snuggled into it.
"Yeah. The cold isn't helping me. I feel like I ought to be hibernating right now." Donna said, her voice muffled through the fleece blanket. "Like a big, ol' grizzly bear."
"Well I'm sure that your bed is warmer than the couch. You didn't sleep in it last night either; you probably didn't sleep too good Donna." John said in a soft voice. He made a tsking sound in the back of his throat as he turned his attention back to his book. "Probably have all sorts of knots in your back from laying on that lumpy piece of furniture for hours."
"Oi, I slept more than you did." Donna pointed out, frowning at the back of his head.
"Yes, well . . . I don't usually need that much sleep. I think I can go one day without any at all. You, on the other hand, usually need your beauty sleep." John said, teasing her slightly at the end.
"You better watch what you say, John." Donna warned, her tone only semi-serious.
"But since you've been sleeping quite a lot in the past twenty four hours, it's safe to say that you are, indeed, fairly beautiful." John said quickly, trying to save his hide
"Uh-huh." Donna huffed out, sounding unconvinced.
Still, Donna decided to take up on John's offer and got up from the couch. She headed to her bedroom and closed the door behind her. Donna changed out of her clothes from yesterday and into her pajamas. As she made her way to her bed, Donna closed the curtains, trying to keep out any light that was making its way through her window.
Donna plopped down on her bed. She quickly covered herself with her layers of blankets. She twisted around until she was lying on her back, facing the ceiling. Donna kept still for a few minutes, thinking. And then, Donna waited for sleep to overtake her once again. Despite it being only a little bit after seven in the afternoon, Donna soon lost consciousness.
Donna must have slept like a rock, and for much too long. When she awoke, she felt like she had been drugged. Her head felt heavy and her throat was groggy and full of mucus. Donna slowly sat up, coughing as she did so. There was light poking through her curtains, which could only be the morning light since her bedroom faced the east.
How many hours had she slept, twelve hours?
She let out a groan and looked at her alarm clock. It was still off; the power hadn't come back yet after Saturday night. Donna groaned again and forced herself out of bed. She quickly worked her way out of her pajamas and into a pair of jeans and a warm, cream colored jumper. Donna fiddled around with her dresser, looking for a pair of warm socks. When she found a pair, she grasped it in her hand and made her way into the living area of the flat.
What she saw as she exited her room looked like a photo. John was still in the same position he was in when she went to bed, still in the same pajamas, and he still had a book in hand. It was a different book this time, looking like he finally finished the Tolkien trilogy. Instead, he had one of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's books. It looked like a copy of the Hound of the Baskervilles, which Donna had to read for a class three semesters ago.
Yet, everything else was the same.
"Did you go to bed?" Donna asked through a muffled yawn.
John jumped slightly. He looked up at Donna with a startled look, his eyebrows creasing together again to make a pseudo unibrow. Donna gave John a strange look as she made her way back to the kitchen, deciding to make herself a cup of tea this cold morning.
"Er, what?" John asked, not getting up from his spot on the floor by the couch.
"Did you sleep at all last night?" Donna asked, rolling her eyes as her volume grew.
". . . No?" John said, sounding very hesitant to give the ginger his answer.
That had Donna twisting around from her spot in the kitchen. She stared at John, who looked like a mouse that knew it had caught the attention of a stalking cat. Donna could feel her jaw go slack in disbelief. She then frowned and placed her left hand down on the kitchen counter, slapping the smooth surface.
"John, that's not healthy! I won't let you get sick when we're still trying to find out what the hell happened to you!" Donna stated, moving towards John. She bent over and grabbed his elbow, forcing him up from his spot on the floor. He whimpered at bit at the sudden tug and rubbed at his arm, but he mostly stayed quiet as his best friend berated him further. "You're smarter than this! You ought to be able to take care of yourself!"
"But I'm not tired!" John groaned, which was soon cut off by Donna.
"I don't care if you're not bloody tired!" Donna half shouted, giving John an exasperated look as she put her hands on her hips. God, now she sounded like her mother. "I want you to go and sleep! At least two hours. It'll be good for you."
Their argument would have continued if it wasn't for the knock in their door. Someone tapped their knuckles on it: tap, tap, tap, tap. John and Donna froze in place, eyes widening as their gazes locked. This would not be good, depending on who was at their front door. A random neighbor? That would be fine. A family member, well, that was a different set of circumstances entirely.
They waited in silence to see if whoever was knocking would go away. A few seconds later and they knocked again. Wordlessly, the two held a small argument with their hands, pointing at each other, the door, and even their bedrooms. They mouthed their words at each other before Donna finally rolled her eyes and made a sound in the back of her throat. She made her way to the door, defeated by John.
She made her steps as silent as possible, avoiding squeaky floorboards on her way to the front door. Just like she did early Saturday morning, Donna peeked through the peephole. What she saw made her heart stop. Donna turned to face John, her eyes wide with horror. John looked scared.
"Who is it?" John mouthed, exaggerating the movements to form vowels and consonants.
"It's my granddad." Donna whispered, loud enough for the man to hear her.
At that John inwardly groaned, scrunching up his face into a displeased, abhorrent frown. He stomped around like a child for a few seconds before halting in place and running a hand through his thick brown hair. He was clearly thinking, his eyes moving erratically around the room. When John finally came up with an idea, he snapped his fingers to get Donna's attention.
"I'll hide in my room. Make sure he stays only for a few minutes." John supplemented, his eyes almost twinkling with relief.
"Will that be safe enough?" Donna asked, sounding concerned.
John waved away the concerns with his hands. He made his way to the bedroom and poked his head from behind the door. "I'll be fine. Don't worry about it."
Donna nodded, agreeing with his plan of action anyways. With that, John shut the door behind him. Wilf knocked on the door again, this time sounding more impatient than before. Donna bit her lip for a brief second in hesitance before finally grabbing a hold of the door's handle and twisting it open.
Donna was met with her grandfather shifting the weight off of his feet. He was holding a back of what looked like groceries in one hand and a mechanical contraption of sort. Donna eyed the machine more closely and realized that it was an electric free heater. Wilf smiled at Donna and started into the room, handing Donna the bag of groceries.
"It's nice to see you, my girl. You don't visit home enough." Wilf said as he came into the living area.
"Granddad, what are you doing here?" Donna asked, placing the bag of groceries down by the side of the door. She watched as Wilf shrugged off his winter coat, making it known that he intended to stay for a while. Instantly, Donna's eyes went to John's door; she wondered what he could make out what was happening. "Please tell me that you didn't drive yourself all the way over here."
"Of course not! I'd be a fool if I did, with the road conditions so terrible and all." Wilf said as he placed the small heater down on the dining table. He turned around and faced Donna with a smile. "When your mother and I received your text, we were worried about you and John. So today I went out and bought you a heater until the power comes back on."
"So how did you get over here?" Donna questioned, taking her grandfather into a big hug.
"I took the tube. It was crowded, but I got here safely enough." Wilf pulled out of the hug and went over by the nearest window, looking up at the sky. His face grew grim the longer he stared out the window. "It's not safe to be travelling outside right now . . ."
"Then you shouldn't have come." Donna said deftly, making her way to the kitchen with the new groceries in hand. She opened the bag and found that it wasn't food at all. It was a large plastic container of what smelled like gas. She turned around and gave Wilf a confused look. "Why did you buy us gas?"
"How else are you supposed to power the heater?" Wilf said, sounding as if it made perfect sense.
He positioned the heater to face the majority of the room and then motioned for Donna to bring the gas over towards him. Donna paused before complying and handing the container over to him. Wilf took the container and uncapped it. He started to pour out the liquid into the machine. Donna watched the liquid as it slowly entered the hole.
"Of course, Sylvia and I thought it would be best for you and John to come home for the meantime. We'll feel better if you two were under a roof that still has electricity." Wilf said as he finished pouring the contents into the heater.
"J-John?" Donna choked out.
"Well, I guess John doesn't have to join us if his own mother would rather have him with her. I would understand that." Wilf continued, unaware of Donna's reaction to her friend's name. He seemed completely oblivious to Donna's strange behavior, or how her eyes always seemed to edge towards John's bedroom. "It might be a bit difficult for him to leave London right now, so our doors are open to him."
"Thanks for the, uh, offer granddad. But John and I are completely fine at the moment." Donna said, the words rushing forward as she plastered on a fake smile. As soon as Wilf finished with the gas, she grabbed his arm and gently but forcefully showed him towards the door. "Just a bit cold, but we'll manage."
"Now hold on, Donna. I just arrived here." Wilf said, putting his foot down. He stopped in the middle of the living area, and it looked like he would not move another foot closer to the door. Wilf gave the ginger a look in the eye, and she knew he meant business. "I'm not entirely convinced that you should stay here. And I won't leave until I get an answer from John."
At that, Donna deflated; her fake smile broke into a look of displeasure. She let go of Wilf's arm and the old man made his way to the couch. He sat down and took off his shoes, setting them aside for the meantime. Donna heard the kettle begin to boil over, so she returned to the kitchen. Once she was sure that the tea had been saved, she glanced over her shoulder at Wilf, who was inspecting the book John had been reading.
Next, Donna nervously set her gaze on John's door. There was no doubt in her mind that John heard of Wilf's intentions. She bit her lip as she stared at the white door for what felt like too long. What were they going to do?
Donna filled two mugs with the blistering hot tea. She left the kitchen with a nervous huff and then sat down by her grandfather. Donna muttered a warning about the temperature of the tea as she handed it over, to which she received a genuine thank you. The two sat in silence as they waited for the tea to cool down. Wilf looked like he was deep in thought while Donna's attention was elsewhere. While her eyes were staring off at nothing, her ears were listening carefully, hoping to catch John moving around in his room.
"So, where is John?" Wilf asked, breaking the silence.
"What?" Donna said, her concentration broken.
"Where's John?"
"Erm . . ." Donna hesitated, and she knew that Wilf noticed it. She couldn't help it, but she glanced back at John's bedroom. What could she say to her grandfather? "He's not here."
"Oh? Is he already with Sarah Jane? Perhaps I should give her a call to see if he's alri-"
"No!" Donna interrupted Wilf, fear spiking inside her. She forced herself to calm down when Wilf gave her a confused and concerned look. She gulped once and took a sop of her still blazing hot tea. If she burned her tongue a second time, she didn't notice it. "No, he's not at Sarah Jane's. But he's not here also."
"Do you know where he is?"
"Err, um . . . at a friend's place. They were studying together for a test that was supposed to be today. But since school was cancelled, he . . . decided to stay at their place." Donna said, a quick lie forming before she could even think of what she was doing. She tried to keep a straight face, knowing that through her adolescence Wilf could always tell when she was lying.
And it looked like he believed her. With only a suspicious look that disappeared when Donna ended, Wilf looked somewhat convinced. Still, he had noticed how Donna's eyes kept on gravitating towards the door. Suspicion returned, but it was no longer directed towards John and his whereabouts.
Wilf set his cup of tea down on the coffee table; the contact sounded loud to Donna and she jumped slightly at the sudden noise. Wilf gave Donna a hard stare as he clasped his two hands together in a firm knot. The old man gave his granddaughter a hard look that many parental figures could replicate. Donna didn't break his gaze.
"Donna, is there something that you're not telling me?" Wilf asked, his voice low, concerned, and very serious.
At that, Donna began to inwardly swear. She felt the back of her neck begin to sweat and could hear her heart beat faster. She tried to keep her face from showing any emotion, hoping not to tip Wilf off. Just as Donna was about to open her mouth to deny that anything was bothering her, she heard the telltale sign of John's squeaky door opening.
To her horror, John stepped out of his room and into Wilf's view. He was thankfully no longer in his pajamas, but the other suit that the pair bought him. He wore the button up light blue shirt and the darker colored waistcoat with the tie. He wore the suit's pants, but not the coat itself. John yawned as he entered, obviously acting as if he had just gotten up. John paused and gave Wilf a questioning look.
"Who's this?" John asked, sounding quizzical.
Donna quickly realized that John was putting on a ruse. And damn, that boy could act; even she had been convinced that his confusion was genuine for a brief second.
"I should ask my granddaughter the same thing." Wilf stated, giving John and then Donna a look. He kept his gaze on John while he continued. "Donna, who is this?"
"Sorry, forgot to introduce myself. I'm Martin Tyler." John said with a sweet smile on his face He stepped forward towards the couch, outstretching his right hand as he did so. Wilf accepted the offered hand and the two shook as if this was the first time they were meeting. "Donna offered to let me stay for the night since the weather was bad."
"And you slept in John's room? Does he know about this" Wilf questioned.
John frowned for a second as he thought, his eyes looking up at the ceiling and furrowing his eyebrows. A few seconds passed before John nodded his head nonchalantly in a rolling motion. He didn't answer for a couple seconds longer.
"Mmm yeah, he knows. He doesn't mind."
Donna couldn't help but think of him as a cheeky little bastard at that point. A smirk found its place on her face.
"Are you . . ." Wilf paused as he wet his lips, unsure of what to ask next. Finally, his gaze fell off of John and onto Donna. Wilf placed a hand on Donna's shoulder and started to rub it smoothly. The words that followed were close to a whisper. "Pardon me for asking Donna, but are you two dating?"
Donna reeled at that, placing her own hand on Wilf's shoulder to steady herself. John himself was sputtering, somewhere between laughing at the idea and trying to form words to deny Wilf's claims. The two friends together had accomplished in confusing the old man, who only gave Donna a confused raise of the eyebrow as he leaned back into the couch. Finally, Donna had managed to calm down enough to set Wilf straight.
"No, he is not my boyfriend." Donna said, giving Wilf a steady eye. She tried to say it with enough confidence to stop any doubts from forming in her grandfather's mind. "He's just another good friend. Kind of like John."
By 'kind of' she meant exactly like.
Wilf didn't respond right away, mulling over her words in his mind. Finally, he nodded in acceptance and smiled at Donna and John. Wilf slowly got off of the couch, using both hands as leverage as they gripped at the old cushions, and walked by John. He stuck out his hand, which John took after hesitating briefly. The two shook hands again.
"Right. Sorry for getting the wrong idea. Nice to meet you Martin. I'm Donna's grandfather Wilfred, but feel free to call me Wilf." Wilf said, smiling out of politeness. The old man's gaze quickly travelled back to the window in the kitchen, and John could see the concern in his eyes. Wilf let out a small sigh and frowned.
"Is there something wrong?" John asked, finding himself frowning along with Donna's grandfather.
"My offer for Donna to come home still stands, and I'll extend it to you as well." Wilf said, his voice turning almost to chastisement, except for the fact that he wasn't scolding either of them. Rather, it seemed directed towards the window, and whatever was outside. "It's just not safe to be in the Middle of London."
"Why is that, granddad? What's wrong?" Donna asked, her voice growing louder as her worry grew. She promptly stood up from the couch and looked at both John and Wilf, gaze switching from person to person, expecting an answer. When she received none, Donna bit her lip and placed a hand on Wilf's shoulder. Her voice was soft, but it still caught his attention. "Granddad. What's going on outside."
With that, Wilf let out a tired sigh.
"It seems that London has bloody visitors, again." Wilf muttered, his voice full of disbelief. He continued to speak as he went to get his shoes and coat. "Some people are saying that they're causing this awful storm. Well I say that we don't know enough about them. I just want them to leave."
"I'm sorry, but what are you talking about?" John asked, his face contorting into a confused grimace.
"Aliens! We've got bloody aliens!" Donna shouted.
John turned to look at his best friend and then question what she was talking about, only to find her by the window near their dining table. She pulled the long drape away from the window and wrapped it around one of her hands, clutching the fabric with a tightened fist. Donna's gaze was up towards the sky, and she used her free hand to bat away red hair that fell in her eyes. Donna looked over to John and motioned with her head for him to come over.
Instead, John headed for the door. He went towards the nearest stairwell and flew down the stairs, only landing on every other step on the way down. John could hear Wilf and Donna calling for him, wondering where the bloody hell he was going, and why wasn't he waiting for them? John barely paid attention to them, his mind focused on one single thing.
He had to see it. Out in the middle of the street, and not behind a window where his view would be blocked.
John finally made it to the main floor, and he burst out the front door with perhaps a bit too much energy. The first thing he noticed was that he was not the only one out in the street. There were others stepping out of their buildings, some still in their bathrobes despite the time of day, and they were all looking skyward. The air was full of tension, and John had a feeling in the pit of his stomach that made him want to turn back towards his own building. Only the sound of a crying, scared child could complete this scene of complete dread.
John couldn't help himself, and he looked up.
"Oh no . . ." John muttered.
What he saw had the hairs on the back of his neck stand up straight. Shivers were travelling down his spine and the pit of his stomach again was sending him more messages to run away. Yes, London was once again visited by aliens, there was no denying that.
The large rotating saucer that hovered just to the west of his neighborhood was too realistic to be a fake. It looked as large as an American football stadium, with metalwork that didn't look like anything else made on Earth. The color of the spaceship reminded John of desert sand as the sun from above shone on the massive vessel, and it looked just as rustic as a desert as well. The lights of its underbelly flickered between red and yellow, almost as if it was a light show.
There was no way people could deny this like they had with the Big Ben Incident. If they did, then John felt sorry for them. And yet, he felt slightly jealous of them. John kept his eyes on the large saucer forlornly and retreated back to the lobby of his flat building. There he found Donna and Wilf, who both shared concerned looks form him. Donna came up to him and gave him a small, reassuring hug.
"You look sick, John." Donna whispered low enough that Wilf couldn't hear them. "Are you alright?"
John nodded as he returned the hug. "I'm fine. But I think we should take your grandfather's offer."
A/N: Unbeta'd for the meantime, but I'll look over this chapter later this evening and fix it right up. Thought you guys should read it now since I've made you wait so long. Plus, now we're actually getting to the second half of this story.