We got into the black van, which was honestly trying too hard. Why not just make it a nice shade of blue? Or grey? Not white. People pay too much attention to white vans… I sighed, looking out the window for the long and silent hours we were gone, before having my lips twitch. I pulled out my phone and pulled up the app, ignoring Osgood, a random man who was probably a security guard, and Kate.

I scrolled through the downloaded ones, ending on London Born. I frowned. No, too close. Not- ooh, Of Nine Lives? I frowned at the summary. No, not that one either. I hummed silently. Was it really a good idea to read Doctor Who fanfiction in the Whoverse? … Better than reading history of the Guhanverse's American past, not gonna lie. I bet the history books here were spiced up with all the hidden alien invasions. Cover-ups that would be obvious to the untrained high school graduate from Guhan. I smiled a bit at the name. I liked it. I loved Guhan, both as a name and as my universe.

"What are you reading?" Kate asked absently after a while, glancing at my phone and seeing the TARDIS.

"A collection of knowledge, theories, and ideas for this universe," I muttered as I swiped left. Seeing an image of David Tennant I swipe right twice. Osgood spoke up, surprising me as I had almost entirely forgotten about her existence.

"Isn't that the app for fanfiction?" At Kate's glance, Osgood continues, "Uh, I know of it because- I like Sherlock?"

"... Yeah. Great hiding place for the knowledge, don't you think?" I said, saving Osgood from a careless word from Kate. Professionals are so rude sometimes. Though, they probably think the same thing for us casual people.

"Quite," Kate said, giving me a cautious look, "I can clearly see that you're not the Vice President of the World just yet."

I blinked, before laughing, "I refuse the position. Permanently."

"You were voted in."

"I vote myself out. I resign. I put in my papers, I'm done."

"You actually haven't. Nor has the Doctor," Kate mentioned. I frowned.

"Anyone have paper and a pen?"

"I do!" Osgood glanced at Kate, "You can't use them though…"

I sighed heavily and audibly, "Why," I drawled harshly, "Did you hire a manchild and his pet dog as President and Vice President?"

"We hired the 12th, not the 11th regeneration," Kate intercedes, "And our notes say that you're more of a partner to him than a pet."

"... You- you do realize that just because his voice is different, that doesn't mean he acts any less childish, yes? Right. Anyway. What do dogs do for their owners? What do I do for the Doctor? Oh, they match? Wow. So surprised," I deadpan, "Though, I guess if you give me your number, I'll text you when I catch up in the timeline and tell you if I still think I'm the guard dog?"

Kate gave me a weary look, "I hope you're not always like this when the Doctor isn't around. I recall you being the mature one of the duo."

I shrugged, "I can be mature. I'd just…" I felt my face twist as I remembered my past. More specifically, every time I had to step up and be mature. My chest ached, "I'd rather not," I said quietly. No one asked, and I went back to my phone. I started reading obscure Harry Potter fanfiction, the ones that not many know of but are inevitably the best gems of the community.

Eventually the ride is over, and I'm efficiently shoved into a hotel room alone, a new set of clothes that came from nowhere that I could gather, and a promise that they'd be back tomorrow for the flight to London. Did she send someone on that errand during the car ride? I observed the clothes.

A pair of jeans, underwear, a sports bra, socks, and a short sleeve shirt. All varying colors of red, oddly enough. Not that I minded. I glanced at my dirty and probably stinking sweatshirt. I needed a long sleeve. I'd get cold otherwise. Or burnt from the sunlight. Or I wouldn't have a hood when I needed it. Or any other number of reasons, I never went without some form of jacket, ever since I was young.

The next day found me putting a hotel robe on for long sleeves, simply letting it open as I opened the door that someone was incessantly banging on. I stared at the floppy-haired man before me, confused. He observed me for a moment, jaw clenching and unclenching, hazel eyes glaring at whatever information he seemed to be receiving as his eyes flicked from one of mine to the other. I swallowed. Ah. It was too early for this shit.

I closed the door and locked it, walking back to the bed and flopping on it just as the lock clicks and the door swings back open. I crawl fully onto the bed, going under the covers as I speak, "No, I'm done with this bullshit. Yesterday was a dream and you don't exist."

The covers are ripped off of my form, the brightness showing that he also opened the curtains. I frowned and sat up, legs and arms crossing, "What part of no don't you get?"

"All of it. None of it. I don't understand the word at all," The Doctor quipped, throwing the blankets to the floor after giving them a look of confusion.

"Okay, sounds a bit rapey," I admitted.

"You know what I meant," The Doctor dismissed. I blinked at the blasé attitude. He was used to me, yet I wasn't used to him. Like a one-sided friendship. It felt so odd, since I was on the other side of the coin for once. I was used to him, yes, but not used to him responding to me.

"Oh don't look so surprised. I need you."

"Okay. No. Fuck off," I refuted.

"You don't have a choice," The Doctor immediately replied, almost doing it on instinct. I gave him a wary look.

"See future me for reference. I'm unavailable, talk to me in twenty years," I refuse bluntly. I don't feel much when he immediately sits down, hands resting on his head. He looked like a defeated man. Should've thought twice about leaving me to fucking die, you cock, I thought. The Doctor shook his head and straightened his back, giving me a look full of determination. I scowled at him.

"N-"

"I'll give you a sonic screwdriver."

"You bitch I'm in," I stand up and he seemed surprised. He really shouldn't be, I admitted to myself. I'd do anything for his technology. I'd not need to worry so much about survival if I had my very own sonic screwdriver, after all.

He observed me for a long moment, standing slowly and walking over to me. His eyes flickered over my form as if looking for something, "You… Are so young," He finally finished.

"You are too," I said, looking into his ancient eyes and wondering how they looked even older than Nine's. I bet Twelve's would look even older, and Thirteen, well… I don't think I make it that far, I admitted. If the Eleventh is coming to my past self… Is my lifespan all used up for him? Is this the last day he can squeeze out of my pitiful life?

"You have no idea," He chuckled. I tilted my head, before shrugging. Whatever that meant, I guess.

"Why do you need me?" I asked.

He glanced behind him, "I need you to believe. Believe in me."

I gave him a long look, before biting my inner cheek. Oh, I realized, I didn't run out of time. He did. "I'll always believe in you," I said simply. As a reasonably insane person, I could at least admit to myself that I always believed he was real, even though I'd rather not admit it to others. My mind just couldn't wrap around the idea that everything I came across even semi-realistic wasn't real. Maybe it was an undiagnosed thing, but I supposed it'd help Eleventh in this case.

He gave me a confused look, "Then why say that I didn't exist?"

"..." I laughed a bit bitterly, "You'll always be real to me, whether I want to admit it or not," I parroted my earlier thoughts. He shook his head.

"No… You…"

"If my future said you weren't real, then either two things happened. One, I understood the need for you to be here, with me, or two… Well, this universe fucking has it out for me," I shrugged, "It makes sense that I'd be mindfucked. Or fixed."

I shook my head, "What's going on, Doctor? It's not what I think it is, is it?"

He observed me for a moment, glancing behind him, "It isn't. Not the crack in the universe thing, at least. You… You're broken. I need your help fixing you," He admitted.

I paused, "Uh, what happened? Explain it to me. The more you explain the less time it'll take for my future to… be fixed, I guess."

"We were in this hotel, and you- you saw your room, of your deepest fear, and now you keep trying to kill yourself because you don't think this is real!" He rushed out. I swallowed, biting my lower lip. Hm. This was a hard one. How would I fix me…? How would this be proven irrevocably real?

"Ask if I want it to be real," I shrugged. Easy.

"What?" The Doctor asked, glancing towards the door again. I give him a confused look, but shake my head. Whatever he was afraid of, wasn't my issue.

The door that swung open soon proved me wrong. I frowned at the woman before me. It was only when our eyes met that I understood. That was me? I observed future-me for a long moment even as the Doctor rushed over. He had no need to, we both understood not to touch each other.

"Do it," I demanded. The Doctor gave me a confused look but I snarled at myself. Fucking idiot.

"Do… it?"

My eyes widened at the voice. Hot, I admitted, slightly jealous. Reality hit me, though, and my fists clenched at my sides, "You fucking cunt," I snapped out, and she gave me a confused look. The Doctor stepped back when he realized neither of us were moving towards the other.

Of course she's there, pretty much everything I've ever strived for, hair flowing down to past her shoulders in the messy style that I adored before I cut it, fit in the way you'd have to be to travel with the Doctor and not much more, eyes shaded in the defeat I remember seeing all-too clearly everyday of my life as an adult, as numbered as those days where I looked in the mirror were. I wasn't fat, I was actually a bit underweight for my age and height, but just the few inches I gained, the grace that I always hoped for… It was all ruined on me. Future me. Her.

"He's right there," I snapped, "All you have to do is ask. Or did you forget? My subconscious always tells the truth. Damn it, even if you don't want to ask, all you have to do is remember," My voice turned desperate, "Remember me."

Glaring at me, she turned to the Doctor, "Is this a dream, coma, or any other unconscious bull?"

"No," The Doctor said, sounding confused.

She turned to me, looking genuinely confused, "What should I remember?"

I glanced at the Doctor, observing him for a moment before shrugging off my hotel robe. I walk forward, stopping so that the Doctor was equidistant between us, showing her my still-healing arm, "Remember when you were on that roof, terrified? Remember when you kept trying to kill yourself, when you realized you'd never be a productive member of society due to how helpless you were? Remember when you walked out of the home time after time, unable to keep grips on reality? Remember, after giving up on dying and living, leaving the house to find something realistic enough for your Doctor Who fanfiction?" I paused when I saw recognition fill her eyes, "And then you saw the Master, and you were so hopeful, even as you tried denying it."

"I ran, obviously," She admitted quietly.

"And it was good that you did," I forced outwards, trying to get her to realize that, "Because then something amazing happened. Do you remember?"

She gave me a confused look. I bit my lip, staring her in the eyes, "Then you ran. You escaped death, and you climbed that fire escape, remember? Then you hid on the roof?"

"I was annoyed because of something on my phone…"

"And he was climbing the fire escape. You were about to die."

"So I ran again," She said simply, as if that was all.

"And you jumped," I agreed, "And your heart raced, and you almost died so much just from jumping from roof to roof."

"But…" She looked confused.

"The wind rushed through your short hair, your heart wouldn't stop beating. The only reason you didn't stop was-"

"I could hear his laughter as he chased me. It was a game to him."

I grimaced. Oops. Led her away from the goal there.

"Yes, and so you kept jumping and running even when your lungs burned."

"Then I tripped," She recalled.

I swallowed, "And what did you think? When you tripped, about to die, eaten by starving Master, never to meet the Doctor?"

I glanced over, seeing the Doctor observing me, then her, then me again, looking totally enraptured. I noticed that she had looked over too. She seemed to see something that I didn't, because she started laughing. I sucked my lips in so as not to smile too. Did it work? The Doctor looked surprised, almost hopeful, eyes focused entirely on her. I could admit that if I were him I'd focus entirely on her too. I was too cute and childish looking compared to her. All her baby fat had been burned away, and the beauty came out. I bet she didn't even notice, I mused bitterly. Was I always doomed to think myself ugly?

"I thought about the Doctor," She admitted.

I slumped, worried. No. That wouldn't be a permanent solution.

"I thought about the Doctor, and the TARDIS, and I prayed to her. I… I thought about how alive I had felt," I relaxed. Cool. I fixed her. Me. Whatever, "And I rolled to the side. I stood up, and… And…"

"You fell into a trash bin," I supplied bluntly.

She laughed heartily, "I did, and I must have looked and smelt like shit when I met Sexy and the Doctor, huh? Oh-" I watched as her cheeks grew red, "No," She said, shocked, "I fucking- oh that's funny." She grinned like a loon, looking at me. I didn't like the look, admittedly, "Then you went and groped Sexy for thirty minutes while the Doctor watched."

I blinked, "Wait, no, no, no, it was five at the most!"

She grinned mischievously at me, "Thirty. Ask him next you see him."

I put my hand to my mouth, "No wonder he was so annoyed with me!"

"I know right?" She laughed, shaking her head of glorious dark brown locks that I was entirely jealous of. Her smile twitched and fell, "Then he healed us, without us thanking him not to mention." I frowned, furrowing my brows. I thanked him, didn't I? Oh. Oh, he must of thought I was a grade A asshole, damn. I felt bad now.

"Oh, fuck, I didn't, did I? I'll have to next time I see him," I decided. She grinned and patted a confused Doctor on the shoulder.

"It's fine. He's more than paid the favor back. This one never apologizes. For anything. Ever," She gave him a dry look. He just looked at her, and I couldn't quite see his expression.

"..." She stared at me pensively for a moment, "Ask it."

It was my turn to give her a confused look, "Huh?"

"Ask the question."

"... Why don't you want this to be real?" I asked after a while. She grimaced, making me realize that's not what she wanted to hear, but I didn't care. I needed to know.

"I do-"

"Then why try killing yourself even if it wasn't real, which it is?" I demanded.

She pouted, before frowning at me, "That won't work. Um. Because…" She looked away, thinking, "Because I forgot."

I crossed my arms, "And why would you forget? What could possibly make you forget how- how wonderful this is?" My voice turned a tinge desperate. Okay, a lot desperate. I felt like I was about to cry.

"... There it is," She admitted, "There's the question I thought of for years. The question I never found an answer for until now, until this second," She smiled weakly at me, "Spoilers."

I tilted my head, before smiling at her. She's dead, fuck the future. I'll torture the fucking information out of her. I ran forward, before being caught by the Doctor, who looked awfully confused.

"Doctor, nowwouldbethetimeforthesonicscrewdriverbye!" The bitch that I was coming for ran out and I struggled against the Doctor's invariably strong-ass grip.

"This isn't fucking fair, let go of me so I can fucking kill her!" I snapped, trying to punch the Doctor's lights out.

The struggle ended with me shoved onto the bed and the Doctor heaving on the floor, having tripped over the sheets that he threw off of me, "Should have fucking left her to rot, I'll kill that bitch," I muttered even as my eyes landed on an odd device. It was… It was obviously a sonic screwdriver, but it wasn't Eleventh's. I observed it, confused.

The tip looked like an uncut ruby, with three oddly twisting dark brown, almost black "roots" grasping most of the ruby, letting some of the ruby show through what looked like the roots of a tree wrapped around it, with the "roots" seemingly running the length of the screwdriver, ending in a small rounded bottom. I couldn't see much, but the button a third of the way down the length of the sonic looked like a leaf, made of some shining green material, and I just stared at it for a long time.

How… Ostentatious. Did I accidentally turn the Doctor into a narcissist by adventuring with him?

"Oh! Yes, here's your sonic screwdriver!" The Doctor said, looking like he was grasping at air as he hopped up and grabbed it. He held out the hand with it, "I mean, I've had it a while, and I guess I didn't know why the TARDIS made an extra for you so I kept it just in case… But it's yours."

I glance up at him for a while. This looks… Beautiful, yes, but a bit fancy for being a super-tech multitool. I always thought if I ever got a sonic screwdriver in the shows it'd be the sonic pen from the Adipose episode. He shifted.

"Do you not like it?" He asked, sounding miffed.

"I do…" I trailed off, taking it gently, "Thank you." This thing would break if I dropped it, let alone if I swung it around half as much as the Doctor does his. I pointed at the alarm clock that woke me up at four in the morning due to me not knowing it was on, and pressed the leaf.

A reddish pinkish hue erupted from the gem, and the leaf lit up slightly as well. It was very harmonious, as well, sounding… Still sonic-y, but less… headache if that made sense. It no longer sounded like a fly buzzing around your ears and more like the sound of a speeding car flying past, if that made sense. It barely made sense to me, but it sounded awfully nice to my ears… Ear… I hummed. Looking at the alarm clock, my lips curl up viciously at the sight of it short circuiting.

"You hated the alarm clock that much? I had to set it that way so I'd wake you up before UNIT got to you."

My vicious smile fell, but I still felt happy at the retribution. That damned annoying bleeping would never harm anyone's precious sleep ever again. Especially if their precious sleep started an hour prior due to thoughts.

I stared at the alarm clock, a thought occurring to me. Would I ever get there? Would that ever be me? I looked at the Doctor, hoping to be proven wrong even though I know it wouldn't happen.

"..." I try and fail to say it twenty or so times, and the Doctor starts looking worried, "Will that ever be me? There's… There's always a chance that this all is a fluke, that… That I might die and will never-," I cut myself off, hoping to be reassured, of what I don't know.

The Doctor looks sad, "Right. There's always a chance you don't make it… With me," He admits, doing the exact opposite of helping me, "There's been so many times you've almost died… And there's been so many times that I've almost died."

I paused, "... If… If I don't join you in adventures, things will go as I know them. You'd be guaranteed to live for millions more of years. Happy. For you," I explained, suddenly conflicted, "But if I go… And join you… You'd be put in more danger," I realized, "You might not even make it to- to…" Twelve. The impossible regeneration. The one he can't know of. And it'd be my fault, because the only reason it happened was because of specific circumstances that might change. I blinked. Why didn't UNIT try killing me? My every action was a ticking time bomb, ready to go off at any second. I thought. Wait, wasn't the hotel before the universe crack thing?

"Things have already changed due to your existence. For example, the Master. If you weren't there after meeting him when I was, I'd have died due to "hiding" you. You can't predict the future anymore, especially when you only know one of millions of possibilities," The Doctor said softly. My eyes darkened. Had I not been here, nothing would have changed. I blinked. That meant I could change things for the better, though, damn the consequences because they were only one possibility in millions.

Surely it wouldn't be too bad. Save a few people here and there. Have fun. Feel alive for once in my pitiful existence.

"How is she alive?" I asked, confused, "Surely time would have… Well, run out by then? From nine hundred to one thousand… I'd be at least old as balls."

He observed me for a moment, "Spoilers," He said hesitantly. I gave him a confused look, why'd he look so scared? I then remembered my previous actions.

"Ooh. No, I'm not- sorry, I have- I have a feud against my future… And vice versa, really," I awkwardly shuffled, "It's best you never have two of me at once. It'd be… Hazardous, at best. I'm not like all psycho over the spoilers thing. I understand. A thought though shouldn't be fucking hidden!" I yelled at the door.

"Fuck off!" I heard a faint reply. I hummed, shaking my head.

I swallowed. I didn't want him to go, honestly. I awkwardly stepped forward, giving him a brief hug, before stepping back, not looking at him. I tensed up as he stepped forwards and engulfed me in a hug, and I hesitantly gave him a hug back. He gave me a folded paper, and I absently put it away.

The Doctor hesitated, but walked out swiftly, and I was left alone.