A rebellious golden ray of sun peeks through the gray clouds, shining on her tired imperfect face. A brisk freezing wind tickles her cheeks, turning them pink from the cold. Miranda Hawke speeds up to get away from the dropping temperatures outside, hurrying her pace, so she doesn't miss the first period. It's August, and yet the cold and snow arrived early, just in time for school to start. She silently curses climate change and the thin material her clothes are made of.
She manages to dodge a few ice patches along the way and considers herself lucky so far. That is until the last ice patch which was hidden underneath a blanket of snow near the corner of the sidewalk catches her by surprise. Her boots fail her as she skids across the ice, smacking into the stop sign face first. With a cry of pain, she falls backward expecting a hard landing, but her backpack saves the day by cushioning her fall.
"Wow," she mutters under her breath. Miranda rubs her hand across her wet nose and sees blood on her fingers. "What the f-" A bright light emanating from the ground below her shuts her up mid-sentence. A cracking ripping sound echoes around her, and before she can scramble away, the crack swallows her whole.
It sends her through the time vortex, the turbulence spiraling her body around like a rag doll. The sight of it makes her eyes burn and tear up. It becomes too much for her, so she throws her hands over her face. Her lungs and throat burn from her screaming as she's falling through the time vortex. She can feel it burn her up as the time winds chaotically toss her around before finally it all stops.
Her body jerks to a stop as it hits the ground. She sits up with a loud gasp for air, tears prickling the corners of her eyes. Miranda freezes in place, watching as the world around her comes into focus. Her eyebrows scrunch up in confusion when she sees she's at the same place as before. Nothing's changed. The small lake she was walking by was the same. The sidewalk below her was the same. The sky above her was the same. It was all the same. She must've been daydreaming. But none of her daydreams have felt or looked that vivid or real before. And yet, that entire experience...it felt like a ruse. Like it was faked. Copied and pasted into her mind like a fake memory. Sure, it was super convincing, but it wasn't real. Couldn't have been real. A little voice in her head is telling her that she merely fell, blinked, and was torn from her exact spot on the ground into an entirely different reality.
Miranda carefully stands back up, ignoring curious passerby's stares. She wobbles on her feet and reaches out for the stop sign to steady her. After she's sure she won't fall again, she checks the ground behind her. The snow was undisturbed except for where she landed. It didn't look like she had skidded a few feet across snow and ice. That only convinces her more that something was terribly wrong. Out of habit, Miranda checks her phone to see she has five minutes before school starts. With a quiet curse, she continues her walk to school, opting to run on the side of the road, so she doesn't have to worry about passing around slow people that were taking their leisurely morning walks.
Rechecking her phone for the time, she sees something strange in the reflection. If she had to be completely honest at the risk of sounding insane, it looks like a familiar blue box tumbling out of the sky and heading straight for her. Miranda slowly turns around and confirms what she saw. "What the hell-" The blue box soars overhead, barely missing her head by inches when she ducks. Things were getting stranger and stranger by the minute, like an impossible dream. Maybe she's in a coma from hitting that stop sign too hard, but she scoffs at the idea. She glances between the time on her phone and the box that was making a not so careful landing up ahead. Making her split-second decision, Miranda dashes for the box. She makes a left turn instead of a right turn to her high school.
The blue box which looks exactly the TARDIS opens its doors to reveal an old man in magician's clothes and a short girl in a dress inside. Miranda says the only thing that comes to mind, "Hello."
"Hello," the magician replies happily.
"Hello," the short girl replies just as happily, if not confused.
"Well, come in already!" The magician grabs her hand and drags Miranda inside before shutting the door. "What are you doing here? Haven't seen you in a while." The short girl counters his statement, telling him that it's only been a few days, but the magician shushes her, still staring at Miranda and taking in her appearance. His eyebrows furrow when he sees smeared red marks under her nose and an almost silent rage starts building up within him.
"What am I doing here? What are you doing here? I don't..." Miranda claps her hand over her mouth when her mind catches up and registers what she's seeing. It's the TARDIS. She runs back outside to look at it better. It's definitely the TARDIS. She circles the ancient blue box, running her dried bloody fingers along its edges. It's 100% the TARDIS. But it looks so different from what she remembers. She hesitates, bloody hand gripping the side of the blue box. With a resolute huff, she runs back inside. There's a cautious sway in her movements, the Doctor notices, and he tries desperately to avoid all the obvious signs that something is wrong.
"What's gone wrong with your face? You're all eyes, just like Clara. Get them under control. Clara, help her control her eyes," the magician rambles on, pointing and waving a hand in her direction. All Clara could do was shake her head a little, confused and hurt at the situation unraveling before her. "Miranda, are you bleeding?"
"No, I... I hit a stop sign. It kind of..." Miranda delicately touches her tender nose, testing how much pain she's in. "...hurts." The TARDIS hums at her again, and it brings her mind back to the ship she's in. "T-This...this is impossible. It really is...bigger on the inside. Smaller on the outside. Bigger...smaller. I-I can't." Miranda was ready to have a full-blown panic attack, now convinced she was stuck in a coma and having an impossible dream. A cruel joke that the Universe is playing on her.
The Doctor barks out a laugh, still not catching on. "You're acting as if you've never seen the TARDIS before." When she doesn't respond right away, he stops in his tracks, his two hearts clenching in pain at the realization. His voice sounds softer, less alarmed. "You haven't; have you?"
"Who are you?" Miranda slowly backs away from the old man who was now walking towards her. A cold fear grips her heart, urging her to run away again.
"I'm the Doctor," says the magician who looks to the short girl for help. The girl can only shrug and frown. The magician claiming to be the Doctor sighs once before grabbing Miranda's hand gently to make sure she doesn't run out of the TARDIS again. "This is Clara."
"Clara who?" Miranda stops staring at the old man to look at the pretty girl he introduced. She doesn't recall seeing this girl in Doctor Who. She was also pretty sure she hasn't seen this Doctor before either.
"Clara Oswald," the girl in the dress answers, a small unsure smile present. Clara looks to the Doctor for answers, her smile disappearing once Miranda wasn't looking. The Doctor subtly shakes his head, appearing at a loss for words. Clara couldn't say he looked afraid, but he did look...lonely. Like once again, he was alone in the Universe. The Doctor takes her other hand, so she's now fully facing him. He glances down at joined hands and sees the lack of rings on both her hands. This final clue that she is not the Miranda he knows causes his hearts to stutter and sink to the bottom of his stomach.
"This must be her first time meeting us. I was wondering when this day would come." Clara notices the soft crack in his voice when he speaks, his lips curling up in a forced smile. He opens his mouth to speak again, but Miranda beats him to the punch.
"No, no, this isn't possible. I'm still on the sidewalk. I'm not on a spaceship," Miranda mumbles as she looks around the big room she's in. This can't be the TARDIS; it looks entirely different from what it's supposed to look like. The ship hums forlornly in response. "There's no way this is real. This isn't real. You're not real." She points accusingly at the man in front of her, but his hand was still attached to it, so it just looked comical. Clara would've laughed if the situation wasn't so...awful.
"Listen. Miranda Hawke, I am real. Clara is real. The TARDIS is real," the magician tries his best to reassure her that everything is perfectly normal, but she wasn't having any of it. It's all supposed to be fake, a TV show. A TV show that she spends hours upon hours of watching. Unless that weird trip through what was supposed to be the time vortex got her here. Or maybe that trip was just her dreaming after having been knocked out by a stop sign. She feels...wrong like she doesn't belong. She feels like she was torn from her universe and tossed into this universe, but it wasn't through the imaginary vortex. It can't have been. Like someone snapped their fingers and everything fell into place. But that's not what's bothering her now.
"You're not the Doctor. You can't be. The Doctor has a chin," Miranda gestures wildly to his face, making his hands move around rapidly with her. "Not unless-" Miranda shuts up, looking up at the magician with wide eyes. "Did you regenerate?"
"Yes," the Doctor answers, knowing what she means when she mentioned his chin. Clara seemed to get it too from the growing smile on her face, remembering what he looked like with that hazardous chin that could poke someone's eye out.
Miranda frowns, realizing she's getting real-time spoilers right now. She's waiting for series 7 of Doctor Who to air, having watched the trailer for it repeatedly in anticipation. But now she's seeing this new Doctor with his new companion. That means Amy and Rory have left and the Doctor regenerated shortly after. Or did he? Maybe he meets this Clara shortly after Amy and Rory left. And then he regenerated afterward. Ugh, this was giving her a headache.
Upon seeing Miranda frown in response to him regenerating, he gently lets go of her hands and steps a foot away. "It's too early," the Doctor says quietly as his hearts thump painfully against his chest. He thinks she doesn't approve of his newly regenerated self, doesn't like him or how the TARDIS looks.
"You're Scottish," Miranda states lamely after several long seconds of silence, her voice starting to fail her. Words can't describe what she's feeling right now. It's a bit hard, trying to decide if she's slowly accepting the new Doctor's appearance and if that means she's accepted that this is her new reality.
"And you're American," the Doctor quips back, raising an eyebrow down at her, almost in amusement at the way younger Miranda behaves. He tries to cherish the moment as much as possible, despite the painful connotations.
Miranda wants to say the Doctor is supposed to sound 'English' or whatever but technically, the Doctor isn't really supposed to be anything. He just is. He can look like an old man, a young man, or even possibly one day, a woman. He can sound Northern, or he can sound Scottish. So, the new Doctor is Scottish. It must be because of Amy, Miranda guesses. This guess only makes her frown deepen, her thoughts threatening to swallow her whole.
"Doctor-" Clara starts but doesn't continue when she sees his crestfallen face. When she finds that none of them were going to continue talking, Clara starts again, wanting to help diffuse the situation. "Miranda, we're your friends. We're-"
"Did you just say, Miranda?" A familiar voice asks from behind the console. The owner of the voice makes their way around until they're facing the group. Miranda's eyes widen again at who it is.
"Jack?" Miranda blurts out, confused as to why they were traveling with Captain Jack Harkness. The Doctor hasn't traveled with Jack in a long, long time. Now, this was definite spoilers, and she was not a fan of spoilers.
"Miranda!" Jack cheers when he sees her, running up to her to greet her with a tight hug, spinning her around while laughing. She cries out in surprise, unsure of where to place her arms. When he notices she isn't hugging back, he slowly lets go and steps away just like the Doctor. "Miranda?"
"Jack. This is her first time meeting us," the Doctor explains softly, still looking dejected at what's going on. Miranda feels a twinge of guilt at how disappointed he sounds but knows it can't be her fault. Not really. She still doesn't quite believe this is all real.
"Doc, you're kidding right?" Jack spins around to face him, but when he doesn't reply, he looks to Clara for answers. "Tell me he's kidding."
"He's not." Clara fumbles with her hands, unsure of what to say or do. She doesn't like the Doctor's or Miranda's or Jack's reaction so far.
"Miri, you know me, right?" Jack turns to Miranda but one look at her wide eyes and gaping mouth, he knows they're right.
"I know of you. Okay, what's going on? What am I doing here? I'm supposed to be going to school, and I think I'm going to be really, really late. Not that I care much. But I haven't gotten this far yet, and you guys are acting like you know me or something," Miranda rambles on, finally having enough of this. Doctor Who isn't real, no matter how much she wishes it was. She wasn't in some story where she magically appears in the universe of Doctor Who. The Doctor and his companions wouldn't be friends with her, not by a long shot. It's got to be some big stupid dream that she's going to laugh about later when she wakes up after getting knocked out by that stupid stop sign. And then cry. Cry because it wasn't real. She can already feel the tears starting to burn, but she tells herself it's from the pain of her busted nose.
"We do know you," the Doctor cuts in, placing his trembling hands in his pockets.
"But you can't," Miranda argues, glancing at all the characters surrounding her. It honestly amazes her they're right there before her very eyes. They look so real, and she's tempted to reach out and touch them but doesn't out of fear that her hand will go right through them and she'll wake up. Or that it'll be socially unacceptable. "You guys are so, so important. You're beyond me. You're...not real. Even if you were, we can't be friends."
"Don't be ridiculous, Miranda. We're your friends, just like what Clara said," the Doctor argues back, wishing she'd snap out of it, hoping she'd see the truth in his words. But he can see the truth in her eyes. Those big scared eyes. This isn't the Miranda he knows. But he is seeing her now; he is seeing her begin. And he's not sure he wants to face that, not again. He was used to having Miranda be in sync with him and his timeline. Now, this brand-new Miranda appears, throwing his perfect picture of them out the window.
Miranda blinks, his words snapping the reality of this strange situation into a clearer picture. She steps closer to him, ignoring Jack and how his face looked from her peripheral. It made her heart hurt but it shouldn't. She doesn't know him personally, just knows of him. All from watching Doctor Who and Torchwood but she hasn't seen the latter show in a long time. Once she was close enough to look into the magician's eyes, she stops. There's truth in his eyes. It's like what they've said on the show. He's got sad, ancient eyes. And here he is, with those big eyes and attack eyebrows. Her breath stops at the revelation, a slight gasp escaping her. This is the Doctor. "You're real."
The Doctor can only smile. She sees him. It's almost enough to make up for the pain he felt when he stared at the stranger before him. Jack only backs away further until he's standing next to Clara, who is smiling brightly at the pair.
"But how did I get here?" Miranda asks, looking around the TARDIS console room for the umpteenth time, trying to memorize every detail.
"What do you remember last?" The Doctor asks instead.
"I was on my way to school. I, uh, slid and hit a stop sign and I fell." A soft laugh on her end, as she waves her bloody fingers in the air next to her nose. "Then there was this light and...it felt like I was in the time vortex. Except I wasn't. It didn't feel...real. Like an illusion. Like I was being tricked. I blinked, and I was in the same spot from before like I didn't move at all. There were no trail marks behind me, which was weird. Then I saw your box falling through the sky and... well here we are, I suppose," Miranda recalls swiftly, rubbing the back of her head absentmindedly.
"Her first time traveling then," the Doctor murmurs aside to Clara and Jack, who both remained quiet throughout the entire exchange. "Okay...what do you know about me so far?"
"You haven't regenerated yet. You've still got the chin." A muffled laugh from Clara. "Um, you dropped Amy and Rory off at their new home with a new car." Miranda tries to remember what she can from the series six finale and the series seven trailer. "You married River Song, I think. She visits her parents and lets them know you're still alive. And you finally visit them two years later for Christmas."
Clara and Jack swivel their heads in the Doctor's direction at the mention of River Song's name and marriage. The Doctor ignores them. "All of that was ages ago. You still have some catching up to do," the Doctor explains softly while stepping closer to her. "How old are you exactly? What year is it for you?"
"I'm sixteen?" Miranda answers with a tilt of her head. "And it's 2012."
"Ah. Definitely too early," the Doctor mumbles quietly before turning to look at Jack. With a wave of his hand, he warns him, "Don't even think about it, Jack."
"I wasn't going to do anything!" Jack protests from where he stands behind Clara, who's trying and failing not to laugh.
The Doctor rolls his eyes at Jack. Turning to Miranda, he smiles and takes her hand as he starts walking out of the TARDIS. "Where are you taking my Sunshine?" Jack calls out before the doors close behind the two.
"Sunshine?" Miranda half-laughs out of embarrassment, raising an eyebrow back behind them. "You guys gave me a nickname?" At the Doctor's nod in confirmation, she lets out a soft laugh. "Unbelievable. So... I travel with you then?"
"You do. But in your future, it appears. You're younger than I remember when I traveled with you in the past," the Doctor answers, letting go of her hand to fumble with something in his coat pocket. Miranda wonders at his words, at what kind of relationship she has with him in the future. Purely friendship, she figures. It can't be anything more than that. There's no way. She's not Rose Tyler or River Song or even Clara, to a point. "Looks like you're going to have to wait a bit longer before you travel with us." Miranda mulls this over, biting her fingernail on the hand that isn't bloody. The Doctor notices this as he pulls out a wet wipe for her bloody nose and hand. "Oh, not the nail-biting! You've got to stop doing that. You're always doing that."
"Well I've got to do in the future now, thanks to you," Miranda drops her hand from her face, a teasing grin appearing. The Doctor grumbles at that and starts to wipe away the dried specks of blood on her skin. Miranda takes this time to inspect him. No bowtie, no suspenders, no tweed jacket. Just an outfit that screamed no-nonsense magician. Lots of lines on this face. That's probably the biggest difference between the Eleventh Doctor and the Doctor now. Although it looks terribly familiar. She wonders where he got the face from.
"What?" The Doctor looks down at her after noticing her wandering gaze.
"You're just...you're so different," Miranda admits, liking that she's the first one to see the new Doctor with his new face. Well, not in this universe. But back in her world, where they're still in the Eleventh Doctor's era, and there's no mention of Matt Smith leaving yet. And she's the first to know. At first, she was slightly peeved at being spoiled, but she can admit she loves knowing more than everybody else back home.
"New new Doctor," the Doctor replies with a knowing grin, reminding her of the New Earth episode.
"Am I there?" Miranda wonders out loud, trying to picture where she would fit in.
"You're always there," the Doctor answers, a bit too mysteriously for her taste. Her eyebrows furrow inquisitively because that sounds impossible. There's no way she would fit into his life seamlessly that it wouldn't seem awkward that she's always there. Seeing the face she's giving him, he corrects himself quickly, "Not in a bad way. You've always been there in my life-"
"Spoilers," Jack warns him as he steps out of the TARDIS with Clara following close behind. The Doctor gives him a pointed, almost annoyed look.
"Great, now I've got you saying that," the Doctor grumbles. "I wasn't going to tell her anything important, Captain Idiot."
"Right, sure you weren't," Jack fires back, crossing his arms. Miranda doesn't like the tension in the air and where it's leading to. The Doctor and Jack are supposed to be close friends and yet they're fighting, sort of. After the awkwardness was growing to be too much for her, Miranda breaks the silence.
"So, who are you to me, Jack? I mean, the Doctor and Clara are my friends, apparently. But who are you, in my future?"
With a wink that didn't go unnoticed by the Doctor, Jack replies smoothly, "Captain Jack Harkness. Friends with a certain Miranda Hawke. My Sunshine."
Miranda laughs, a little relieved it wasn't anything more. "Alright, so we're friends. I can deal with that."
"Are you sure you wouldn't want to deal with anything more than that in the future?" Jack asks suggestively, and he receives a smack in the arm from both the Doctor and Clara.
"I don't think so," Miranda immediately rejects the notion. She knows of his track record with relationships and flings with past boyfriends and girlfriends and everything in between. She also knows of her own track record which is zero boyfriends, zero girlfriends, zero relationships or flings, just a bunch of dead-end crushes. The exact opposite of him. It would never work out. Just like the Doctor. She shakes these useless, pointless thoughts away. These characters, who were only supposed to exist in a TV show until about ten minutes ago, would never go beyond friendship with her.
"A shame," Jack says with what sounded like genuine disappointment. The Doctor sputters at him, practically pushing Clara and Jack back inside the TARDIS. "Doc-" The doors slam in his face.
The Doctor hovers around her, seemingly both comfortable and uncomfortable in her presence. Miranda tries not to think about what that could mean. "So, what now?"
"Now," the Doctor pauses, refusing to look her in the eyes, "now I think it's time you went home." The small smile on his face collapses at his own words.
"Home?" Did home still exist? Does he mean wherever her home is here, in the world of Doctor Who? Or her home, her actual home, back from wherever she came from?
"You're too early," the Doctor states, no emotion present in his voice.
"What does that mean?" Her stomach drops at his monotone statement. Miranda scrunches her eyebrows at him, confusion coloring her face. "This isn't like River Song, is it?" There was no way she was going to end up in a similar situation as her, that would be too hard. Meeting each other backwards, always in the wrong time or date, never in sync with the Doctor. She pulls at the fabric of her wrinkled coat, nervousness, and dread written all over her.
The Doctor doesn't reply right away but instead sighs deeply, finally meeting her gaze reluctantly. "I can't tell you."
"Why not?" Her tone was harsher than she intended. Her big brown eyes become glossy when moving images of the tragic River Song play like a melody in her mind. That can't be her. She won't let it be her. "I refuse to come back if that's the case. I won't..." She tapers off, almost unbelieving in her own words, and tries again, more resolute. "I won't come back."
The weight of her words starts suffocating them slowly. She can see the gears and wheels turning inside his mind as his chest starts shaking. He is bristling with emotion but is unsure how to proceed. He needs to alleviate her fears if he's ever to see her again. With a timid expression and uneven breathing, he reaches out and squeezes her hand gently, as if afraid that if he squeezes any harder, she'll disappear before his eyes. He seems defeated when he utters his next words. "The times we had...will have...they're important. At first, you might not experience events in order, and I won't lie, it will be hard. But..."
"...it'll be worth it," she finishes for him, soft awe and wonder filling her quiet voice. She manages to smile at him, wanting to bring a little light back into their conversation. He seems to be in a trance, watching her trace her fingers up his arm as she clasps onto his black velvet jacket sleeve. He draws his gaze back up to her face, innocent eyes wide and captivated. He's always wondered when he'd meet her at the start of her journey. Should've prepared himself more. It was starting to become painful for him, to see her eyes this way. This is her before all the pain and suffering, before the chaos, before everything. A tiny part of him wants to warn her, to alleviate her future misery, but he knows he cannot, and that hurts him more than anything.
"Can't I travel with you for a little bit?" Miranda wasn't too keen on the idea of going back, not after seeing the real TARDIS and meeting the new Doctor and hearing his words about her future. But she knew she had to. She must go back and wait for series 7 to air and to catch up on what the Doctor is up to. She needs more foreknowledge.
"You can't." The words remind her of Bad Wolf Bay, and she wonders if she's there too.
"Ask me anyway." Miranda can't leave, not without him at least asking her to travel with him in his blue box. It's always been a wish of hers, for the Doctor to ask her to see all of time and space. What fan hasn't had that same wish?
"Come with me." And for a moment, the Doctor wanted to whisk her away, to keep her safe from all the horrible cards life will deal her in the future, paradoxes be damned.
"I can't," Miranda rejects the offer like she knew she should. "I have to finish high school. I have to get a driver's license. I've got family and friends. And I've got..." She trails off, not liking the way his eyes averted hers when she mentioned all the things she still has to do.
"I understand." It takes all his will power to let go of her hand and head back to his ship without looking back. Because if he looks back, he won't be able to leave. The TARDIS dematerializes before her eyes, and it's more beautiful than anything she's seen before. It's so much better than what it is on the show. With each groaning noise it makes, it pulls at her heartstrings.
"Come back."
...
"She wasn't even remotely interested in you," Clara comments with a snarky smile. "Is that the first time someone's turned you down?"
Jack waves the universal sign for 'whatever' at her as she laughs. He sighs and turns to the Doctor who was being strangely quiet ever since they left. Seriousness settles into his voice when he addresses his friend. "Doctor."
"What do you want, Jack?" The Doctor flips a lever and turns a switch, his movements methodical and swift as he takes them out of the time vortex and into deep space.
Jack thinks back to all the times Miranda's words have echoed in his head, reassuring him and telling him not to give up. He can count all of her unnecessary apologies, her hidden sideways smiles, and her many whispered secrets that she's told him over the years. He can see it all disappearing, all of their small treasured moments vanishing like they were nothing. Perhaps, in the end, they were nothing. A small hope unfurls within him, telling him that maybe things could go his way this time around. "What if it never happens? What if she doesn't-" Jack worries out loud, but the Doctor stops him in his tracks.
"Time can be rewritten," the Doctor says casually, almost without care, looking up from the console to face a now angry Jack.
"How can you say that? You can't let that happen!" Jack yells, a hint of urgency behind his pleads for the Doctor not to say that awful saying.
"Of course not, but what she decides to do is her own choice. I can't force her to do anything-" The Doctor argues back until Clara cuts into the conversation.
"Really? What happened to 'do as you're told'? What happened to 'rule one: The Doctor lies'?" Clara interjects.
"People don't need to be lied to," the Doctor replies, repeating himself from a previous conversation he had with Clara. "And 'do as you're told' is just a safeguard for you pudding brains."
"Doctor, please don't let it happen." Jack ignores the pudding brains insult because something far greater is bothering him. It's making his stomach knot, and his heart burn. "You have to tell me she comes back. That everything that's happened before happens again, but better. Doctor, I... I heard her out there. That she won't come back. Please, tell me you changed her mind. Tell me that we can change the future. We can fix everything bad that's happened to her, to you, to us. We can make it better." Before the Doctor can interrupt him, he continues his speech. "It's what you said, Doctor. Time can be rewritten. But not the time between us."
"Haven't you considered that maybe, the only reason you two spent any time together is because of your shared experiences?" The Doctor spews his logic at him, but it only serves to make him more upset.
"I could say the same for you," Jack mutters angrily back.
The Doctor gives him an indignant look but continues. "Look, Captain Pudding, I can't control her. What she decides to do, from here on out, is up to her. Not me."
"Don't act like you don't care what happens. Don't pretend you haven't had the same thoughts as me. If you could, wouldn't you want to change and prevent all those terrible things from happening?" All of Jack's feelings were swelling like a tumor inside of him. Festering, burning, threatening to burst and collapse.
"You're not getting it. Neither of you are," the Doctor points to Clara, who's been relatively quiet the entire time. "I know you're thinking the same as him. There I was, with this golden opportunity. I had the chance to change Miranda's timeline, for better or for worse. But, I think we all know, that it would be a terrible mistake. It would be wrong. I would be wrong. I would be Timelord Victorious, once more." Clara recalls the stories he told her about his past, all his mistakes and his regrets. "And for what? A paradox or two and she's not the same Miranda anymore. And we won't be the same if she changes." Jack and Clara are frozen in place, picturing their friend without all the events that happened to her. It's not their right to change anything about their story. "I did what I could. She'll still want to travel with us, but...everything that happens to her in the near future will happen. There's no changing that."
Jack leaves the console room without another word, silently fuming with fury and begrudging acceptance.
"He'll be fine," the Doctor reassures Clara after Jack leaves for his room.
"But will she?" Clara asks, the worry in her voice betraying her feelings on the matter. The Doctor doesn't have an answer for that.
...
After standing there for what felt like forever, staring at the empty spot the TARDIS previously occupied, Miranda finally leaves. As she turns around to begin walking away, a bright light illuminates her body. The crack and the time vortex appear in her mind as she blinks and returns to her home universe. Her body feels the change like she's been tossed from one reality to another without moving an inch.
The crack in her mind looks like the same one on the show, like the one on Amy's wall. It was said the crack could act as a portal to different worlds or it could erase you from existence. All her thoughts stop as she shakes her head, groaning as the pain slowly overwhelms her. She's not sure if it's from the overabundance of information or from hitting that stop sign earlier.
Miranda contemplates on who she should tell about meeting the new Doctor and his new companion along with his new desktop design. Her mind stops. Since when did she start believing what happened was real? Well, it had to be real. She couldn't possibly make up seeing the Doctor with his new face and the new companion along with Captain Jack Harkness. She wasn't that creative with her imagination. She could write poems and lyrics, but to create such a vivid memory? Never.
By the time she makes it to school, the first period was halfway over, and she gets detention for being late with no excuse. During detention, she starts to draw lazy sketches of the Doctor's face and Clara's smile and Jack's wink and the new desktop for the TARDIS. Her mind wanders far away, wondering when she'll see the Doctor next. It sounded like she was a part of his past, maybe his future. But how far back in the past? It can't be too far, or she'll grow too old to continue adventuring with him in the future.
After detention, she goes home and turns on her TV but not before confirming that her little brother, Max, had made it home safely and was picked up by either her dad, Michael, or her mom, Marie. Miranda starts rewatching all the previous seasons of Doctor Who and Torchwood to make sure she remembers everything as accurate as possible just in case she ends up traveling with the Doctor in the future. It doesn't hurt to placate her wishes and dreams.
Miranda does this for the next three years, rewatching and doing her research on everything Doctor Who related. She finds out that Oswin Oswald turns out to be Clara Oswin Oswald who turns out to be Clara Oswald. She finds out what happened to the Ponds and how devastated the Doctor was afterward. She finds out how the Doctor ends up meeting modern day Clara and sees all their adventures together. She finds out the mystery behind the Impossible Girl. She finds out that the War Doctor along with the Tenth Doctor and Eleventh Doctor brought back Gallifrey. She finds out how the Eleventh Doctor regenerated. And when the Doctor she met a few years ago pops up on her screen after he regenerated, she pauses it, her face echoing Clara's face at that moment.
It was true. This is his new face. Clara is still his companion. But no Jack yet. Miranda keeps on watching up until after series 8 and the Christmas special. That was it. There was no more Doctor Who, at least not for a while.
...
Too much has happened these past three years for Miranda. Too much, Miranda thinks with a deep-set frown that never leaves her face as she looks back from where she came from. The tall iron gates close behind her, cutting her view off from the cemetery. The past several months she's healed somewhat crookedly like someone had glued together puzzle pieces that were never meant to fit. She knew it would be awhile before color would manage to sink back into her life and paint her world anew.
It was a cold August morning, and an early winter breeze was biting at her exposed skin, punishing her for not wearing a heavier jacket. The stinging, tickling sensation was familiar. It reminds her of that impossible day that has haunted her notebooks and daydreams. She wonders if it's too late to still believe in that silly illusion, to hang on to a diminishing hope that something magical is awaiting her in another universe. Somewhere in the deep recesses of her mind, the sixteen-year-old her is revisiting that day with great fondness.
After she turns away from the graveyard for the final time, Miranda's mind is set. She runs up to her beat up bike and rides it to work, never stopping for a second. She hands the hostess on duty her server's apron and takes her last check to cash it in at a nearby bank. After dumping her bike by the front steps of her home, Miranda begins packing her bags with clothes, shoes, other essentials, sentimental items and a hidden shoebox from under her bed. When her mom comes home, she hands her the money from her last check, everything from her checking account, and her money jar full of her tips.
"What's this for?" Marie, her mom, asks as she tugs her short brown hair behind her ear.
"For everything," Miranda answers with a weak smile. She follows her mom outside where she takes out a cigarette and lights it. Her lungs choke on the oppressive smoke in the air as she sits down on the cracked steps. She glares at the cigarette in her mother's hand, but they soften when she sees the distant, faraway look in her mother's eyes. She's seen that look far too often. It was time to bring life back in those once cheery brown eyes.
"Why?" Her mom asks suspiciously while she takes a drag, blowing the smoke away from her daughter's face.
"Because I know it's been hard. And this is me, trying to make it easier," Miranda admits, biting her fingernails out of nervousness. Ever since they had to move to an unfamiliar reservation because of her dad's job three years ago, her life and everything in it had slipped through her fingers like dust.
"What are you talking about?" Marie puts out her cigarette to give her daughter her full attention.
"I'm giving you this money to help make things better. I... I think it's time I found my own way in life so before I leave, I thought I'd help you guys out a bit," Miranda says, her smile now encouraging with no sign of a frown.
"Miranda. I-" Marie turns to her daughter and after seeing the smile grace her face, she forgets what she has to say and embraces her tightly, grateful for the money. It's been so long since she's seen a proper smile on her daughter's face. After their goodbyes, Miranda makes her way to her tiny room down the hall, ignoring her brother, Max's room. She's not sure she could leave if he's the last one she sees. It would erase all of the courage welling up inside her, destroy her bright and fierce determination to leave her family behind for adventures with a mad man in a box. The tears were already starting to fall at the thought of leaving her brother, even though she knew he was in good hands. But it's like what Rose said: "Everyone leaves home in the end."
She figures it must be time to see the Doctor again. She's older now, at age nineteen. The same age Rose Tyler was when she first started traveling with the Doctor. She at least deserves one trip through time and space. But Clara's words from a particularly painful episode echo in her mind.
"Nobody deserves anything. But I am owed better. I am owed."
"Please..." Miranda asks no one in particular. Minutes pass by, and nothing happens. When she's sure that nothing was going to happen at all and that it was all a ruse, the crack in her mind appears below her. It engulfs her and sends her into the time vortex. The burning pain in her mind feels familiar now, more familiar than it should be. Miranda's only done this twice, not counting this time, but she feels like she's done this before like she's been tossed between these universes multiple times like someone has snapped their fingers and teleported her between dimensions more than they should've. Where did she go? Distant forgotten memories of a roof and a car are all she can remember.
With the blink of an eye, Miranda was standing on a glass floor with all her belongings strewn about. This was more disconcerting than the first time because her environment didn't change too much then. But now, everything around her was different and new. She tries to stay anchored in place, but the world was spinning, and so was she.
"Because she's the future. My future." There was talking in the distance, the voices familiar.
"Can you run away from that?" A Scottish voice asks.
"I can run away from anything I like. Time is not the boss of me," a boyish voice replies.
The entire foundation of her life shifts. Reality as she knows it slides out from beneath her feet. Miranda falls in place, creating a loud thud that rings endlessly in her ears. A fuzzy image of a pair of blue converses and a pair of black boots reflect on the glass floor. "What about her?"
"What about who?" The owner of the black boots swivels around to face the fallen figure. Miranda looks up and groans as she figures out where she's at. The Eleventh Doctor and Amy Pond. In the TARDIS. With River Song outside. Along with an army of weeping angels. Not exactly the first episode or adventure she wanted to have. It was the time of angels.