Chapter Thirteen

A/N: All right! After my long absence from this story, I'm finally publishing another chapter! I wasn't satisfied with this chapter, so I almost kind of really gave up because it depressed me so much. But now I've figured out an alternate storyline for these chapters, and everything is ok!

This next adventure was initially inspired by a rather fantastic book I've just finished reading (and have started reading a second time because I loved it so much) called The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society. If you haven't read it, YOU SHOULD! No joke- it is epic! Anyway, apart from the characters, the setting, and the actual event of the German air raid on Guernsey, I have totally done all of my own stuff with this chapter. If you're thinking about reading this book, be assured that it has absolutely nothing to do with aliens. So, here's presenting the next chapter!

Day 17

Has it really only been two weeks and three days since I started this log? In some ways, it feels like it's been ages and ages since the Doctor regenerated. Strange, how I feel like I've known this form for years, rather than just seventeen days. I just enjoyed a nightcap (just tea; no alcohol, since there's hardly a chance to stock the larder, much less a bar) with the Doctor, on that stupid old couch. (I think it's time to invest in new furniture- a spring popped out from one of the cushions this morning. Something… oh, I don't know… something sophisticated… but I'm rambling. Again.)

Yesterday was an adventure. So was today, but not quite as much of one.

I got up, wondering why I was so excited, then I finally realized that "oh my goodness! the Doctor's going to show me something today!" So I leaped out of bed, pulled on some well-loved jeans, tugged on a sweatshirt, and skidded into the control room.

He was there, waiting for me with a big grin on his face. Well, not big for his old standards, but it conveyed his anticipation.

Forgive me once again while I ramble… I'm finding it increasingly easy to see his new face in the mornings instead of the old one. I don't know how to explain it… it's like my mind is now used to his black hair (with which he's been experimenting with different styles; one day it's gelled, the next it's flat, the next "tousled"; I wonder what he'll settle on), his taller, rangier build, his softer voice. Ok- tangent over.

'So,' I began, smiling and bouncing up and down on the balls of my feet excitedly. 'What is it?'

'What is what?' he inquired, deliberately employing an innocent (totally unconvincing) look on his face.

'The thing you want to show me!' I said breathlessly. He was building up the excitement, I could tell. And it was working; I was trembling in anticipation.

His face split in a grin. 'All right.' He led me to the other side of the console, and pointed…

At this little box. It was small- about small enough to fit in the palm of the Doctor's hand (I say "the Doctor's hand", because his hands are bigger than mine, and it fits better in his than in mine so I didn't feel like saying something more difficult to write… which I might as well have done, because my explanation is longer than what I would have said…)- and black, made of a dully-painted metal, with a few switches and dials on the top, as well as a compass. It was a bizarre little thing, almost more suited for an airplane control panel than the TARDIS console.

'So… what is it?' I asked, unable to keep the "human/dumb chick/unintelligent/unappreciative" boredom out of my voice. Why in the universe was he so excited about this little thing, anyway?

'This,' he told me in a "you should be way more impressed than you are" sort of way. 'This, my dear Miss Goodwin, is a location locating locator.'

I thought he was kidding.

I laughed and muttered, 'Funny, Doctor. Funny.'

He looked slightly offended. 'What's so funny about it?' he wanted to know, picking up the device carefully, as though scared of dropping it.

'Who calls a thing a "location locating locator"?' I wondered, laughing still. 'Weirdest name I've ever heard!'

'I don't know,' he murmured thoughtfully, his brown eyes fixed on his hands. 'I thought it was kind of catchy. You know… like, the same root word used three times, yet it still makes sense.'

I guess I could see where he was coming from. 'So, what does it do?' I asked without thinking.

A second later, I realized how dumb that sounded.

He and I burst out laughing at the same moment. 'And I used to think there was no such thing as a stupid question…' he chuckled.

'Ok, so it locates locations,' I conceded, wiping tears of laughter from my eyes. 'Cool.'

A mischievous glint filled his eyes. 'Care to test it out?' he asked me.

Needless to say I accepted that offer. With a squeal I started bouncing up and down. 'Yes! Let's do it!' I cried, excited to once again be off into the great Unknown. (Yes, I did capitalize it. When you've been traveling with the Doctor for as long as I have, you start to regard adventure as a personification of… something. I don't know. All I know is that the Doctor and I are good friends with the Unknown.)

I held on for dear life as the good old TARDIS started its familiar jerky dance as we flew through space and time.

A last bump as we landed. I could hear, from outside the TARDIS walls, explosions detonating.

The Doctor and I met eyes, and my new fear was mirrored on his face.

'What did you just land us in?!' I burst out, scared.

He shook his head as an indication that he had no idea.

Well, as with those bad horror movies where viewers start yelling at the screen when the hero and heroine do something stupid, we moved to the door in unison. A particularly violent explosion rocked the ground beneath the TARDIS, making it quake and tremble. I tripped over my right pant leg (ok, so maybe a "5 long" was a bad idea…) into the Doctor, knocking him into the metal of the door.

'Oof,' her grunted. 'Thanks, Molly.'

'Any time; you can always count on my clumsiness,' I assured him.

Smiling, he gripped the door handle and pulled the door open.

It was hard to tell what time of day it was when we stepped out into the open. The quality of the light suggested that it was near dawn, but the smoke in the air was so heavy that it was hard to breathe, much less actually see where the sun was in the sky.

Coughing, I covered my mouth and nose with my hand, trying to stop myself from inhaling too much of the dusty smoke. I could hear engines roaring overhead, and several distant screams.

'Molly! Run!' I heard the Doctor shout, but glancing around, I couldn't find where he was. It was as though he had vanished into the haze of smoke created by the bombings.

'Doctor!' I called, coughing more violently now. 'Doctor, where are you?!'

I was terrified, future companion. Simply terrified. I'd been through an awful lot in the last couple years, but I had never been in the middle of an aerial attack. Well, unless you count that one time on Aviate with all those psychotic bird creatures… but I'm not going to count that.

'Doctor!' I screamed, eyes stinging in the choking smoke.

I felt a pair of hands grab me by the elbows and suddenly I was being half led, half carried across bumpy, grass-carpeted ground.

I felt safer, knowing I wasn't alone in the haze. I thought it was the Doctor who was saving me. Little did I know…

I tripped over a few large ruts in the ground before my savior and I slowed our pace. I could still hear screaming, but the roars of the engines were dying away slowly. I could still hear them, though. They sounded like a hoard of angry bees, vindictively striking out at anyone and anything in their reach. More explosions, farther off, but still inciting screams from the people around us. I kept my eyes tightly closed and my hand over my mouth as protection against the smoke. My heart was pounding violently, my breathing was rushed and slightly painful in my lungs, which were still burning from the smoke.

I heard voices now. Scared voices; some shouting, some wailing, others mere whispers of fear. I felt other people bump into me. Breathing was easier now—the smoke must have been growing fainter and fainter. Was it safe to open my eyes?

'Quick, get in, lass!' said a voice in my right ear.

Involuntarily, I opened my eyes and turned to see the man who had pulled me to safety—it wasn't the Doctor.

I gasped loudly and attempted to yank my arm away—after all, he was a stranger, and isn't every child raised with the mantra "stranger = danger!" engrained in their head.

'Stop that! Just get inside!' he ordered me, pointing to the small hospital that we had just reached. A flow of people was pouring past us, creating a crush at the small doors of the medical facility. The man drew my attention back to him when he informed me, 'I'm going to find the rest of the women and children!' He had to shout to be heard above new explosions and roars.

I obeyed, and looked at him. He was a tall man— not quite as tall as the Doctor, but nearly so—with a tangle of black-grey hair atop his head. His weathered visage was not what one would call wrinkled and old, but he was clearly about the age of forty-five, and it was equally clear that he'd had a hard life. He'd known sorrow. His dark eyes held the same kind of hidden wisdom that the Doctor's eyes hold, but not quite as pronounced.

Nodding, I did as he told me, and hurried inside the building, but not before calling back, 'Be careful!'

He nodded at me, a ghost of a smile flitting across his hardened face. 'I mean to be,' he answered as he hurried back into the smoky distance.

To be continued…