The Dread of Tomorrow and Yesterday Chapter 63: Bride of the Wind, a doctor who fanfic

The Dread of Tomorrow and Yesterday – Chapter 62

A/N: Okay, I know there's been a little confusion over the last couple of chapters. There were a lot of things wrong with chapters 62-64, so I did a massive overhaul and fixed a bunch of them. By the time I was done, I actually ended up cutting it down into 2 chapters, instead of 3. Sorry about all the confusion, but they should both be up in the next few days.

Anyway, I've decided to do Human Nature/The Family of Blood next and I thought an interesting way to do it would be to have two prequel chapters of what happened in those three months where the Doctor was John Smith. So, this is the first of those prequel chapters.

Before we get into this chapter, I just wanted to say that this was the episode that made me come up with the idea of doing this story in the first place. To be honest, Rhea wouldn't have existed if I hadn't watched Human Nature/The Family of Blood and thought about what it would be like if there was a coloured OC in the episode. So, I'm definitely excited for the next couple of chapters because I've been waiting for this one for a very long time. So, I hope you enjoy the next couple of chapters as much as much as I enjoyed writing them.

Okay, so, one last question, I've reached the end of the first arc to this story, and it'll be around 80 chapters by the end of it. So, I was wondering, would you guys prefer if I kept adding the chapters for the second arc to this story, or would you prefer I create a whole new story as a sequel and go from there?

Replies to Reviews: I've put all the replies to the reviews at the end of the chapter because I didn't want you guys to have to scroll past all of that.

Warnings: Sexual content. Sexual language. Flirting. Swearing. There is sexual content in this chapter. Be aware.

Bride of the Wind

Rhea didn't think she had ever said that she hated the Doctor. Okay, if she were being honest, she had thought about it a couple of hundred times. But she had never really meant it. Until now. Oh, and the TARDIS, she couldn't forget about the TARDIS. She'd rip apart the whole fucking console with her bare hands if she got the chance. Her fingers flipped through the book, haphazardly, until she slammed it down on the table with a frustrated sigh.

"Is there something wrong, Rhea?" He strode into the room, snatching the book that she had just put down off the table.

"No," Rhea smiled, tightly. "Nothing at all."

"Very well," He gave her a beaming smile. "I may be a bit late this evening. I am proctoring an exam and I imagine it may extend beyond the class day. But I wouldn't have you worry if I don't return at my usual time."

"It's fine," She said, reassuringly. "Whenever you come back is fine."

"Alright, then," John leaned down and kissed her softly on the mouth, which she bore with careful stoicism. "I will see you in the evening, wife."

Yeah, Rhea actually hated the Doctor.

The central console of the TARDIS was sparking like crazy as Rhea, Martha and the Doctor started to pick themselves up off the floor after slamming the TARDIS doors behind them. The Doctor dashed to Martha, while Rhea rushed over to the console, frantically pressing buttons. He grabbed her hand and pulled her up to meet his eyes.

"Did they see you?" The Doctor asked, urgently.

Martha looked terrified. "I don't know."

"Did they see you?" The Doctor asked again, his eyes wild.

"I don't know, I was too busy running!"

"Martha, it's important," The Doctor growled. "Did they see your face?"

"No, they couldn't have!"

The Doctor joined Rhea, running around the console and playing with controls. He shared a look with Rhea, who nodded.

"Off we go!" The Doctor said, watching the time rotor, intently, as Martha came to stand next to Rhea.

A warning beep started to sound through the TARDIS and the Doctor rushed over to the monitor.

"Ahhh!" The Doctor growled, grabbing the console screen and reading it, frantically. "They're following us." He said, going back to the controls.

"How can they do that?" Martha looked confused. "You've got a time machine."

"Stolen technology, they've got a Time Agent's vortex manipulator. They can follow us wherever we go, right across the universe," He paused and looked at Rhea. "They're never going to stop."

He ran his hand through his hair, nervously, and stared at her. Then, his eyes widened, as if an idea had come to him.

"Unless... I'll have to do it..." The Doctor said, quietly. He looked up at Rhea and Martha. "Rhea, please tell me you trust me."

Rhea frowned at the odd question. A slow feeling of dread came on her. Oh, he's definitely going to do something stupid. "You know I do. That's a stupid question." She paused. "But I'm only doing this because you'll probably get yourself killed in two seconds if I'm not there."

He gave her a grateful smile and turned to Martha. "You trust me, don't you?"

Martha looked even more confused. "Of course I do."

He swallowed hard and looked at them. "Because it all depends of the two of you." He dove below the console to grab something.

Rhea watched him in confusion. "What does, what are we supposed to do?"

The Doctor emerged from under the console, holding an ornate pocket watch. "Take this watch, 'cause my life depends on it. The watch, Rhea, the watch is-"

Rhea gasped as her eyes snapped open, adjusting to the lack of light in the room. She was aware of the warmth surrounding her and looked down to see too many arms around her body. John had pulled her so tight into his body that any tighter and she would be nestled next to his bones. His hands were presumptively curving around parts of her body she was certain he had not given him permission to touch. God, the way the subconscious mind works. Men are horn dogs, even in sleep. Rhea grimaced. One of his legs was thrown over hers and his other thigh was shoved between her legs. His face was buried in the mass of hair tied into a braid and she could hear him humming, contentedly. She had the urge to pull away. It was suddenly hot. Too hot.

But that was when he started to wake up. His eyes slowly opened and he turned her onto her back so that he could look down at her.

"Darling," John murmured, his voice hoarse from sleep. "Is everything alright?" He smoothed back the hair from her forehead.

You know, if he wasn't so sweet, I might be tempted to kick him in the face for treating me like one of the damned Disney princesses. "I'm fine." She smiled, tightly. "Really. Just a nightmare." She said, weakly.

John smiled down at her, fondly. "Don't worry, I will protect you." He turned them around so that he was the one lying on his back, with her curled on top of him, his hands low on her waist. Her fingers curled into the blue shirt of his pyjamas and she nuzzled into him, deciding to go with it.

For now.

It was early that morning and the three were all tired. They had stumbled to Farringham School for Boys across the lawn, the women wearing unusual clothing, and had been led into the entrance hall, where John had proudly announced to the Headmaster that his name was John Smith and this was his happily wedded wife of six fucking years, Sunehri, and her lady's maid, Martha.

Rhea had played the Doctor's wife before, like at Torchwood Manor, with Shakespeare and at Royal Hope Hospital, where Martha had met them for the first time, and a bunch of other planets where she had needed the measure of protection of being married to the Doctor, but this was different. This time, the Doctor – John – really believed that she was his wife.

HOLY FUCKING HELL.

She bit back a scream of alarm.

Wife. She had not been expecting that. And 'wife' in 1913? Honestly, it made her want to duck and run before she started to lose brain cells from being around these morons for an extended amount of time. Like the racism. The other people in the school, the other teachers, their wives, the boys, they all only tolerated her because she was John's 'wife' and he had told them that she came from a rich family. She could see they looked down on her because of her brown skin. She knew she would be okay. Not just because she could stick up for herself, but Indians were not common, but accepted in England in this time. She knew they looked down on her for speaking to the "help". By "help", they meant Martha. She worried for Martha. It was hard being of her skin colour and working as a maid. She'd definitely get a lot of crap for that. Rhea had tried her hardest to circumvent that and made sure that Martha was her lady's maid instead. Thank you, Downton Abbey. She wouldn't have the same duties as a servant and she would only really be beholden to herself and John, and she hoped to God John wouldn't interfere.

Let's just say that the whole situation wasn't exactly sitting well with Rhea as a whole.

The headmaster had led them to their chambers down a long corridor. Rhea paled when she saw the single bedroom but brightened, slightly, when she saw the more generous couch in the study. That's where he's going to sleep for three months. She thought, assuredly.

She strode into the kitchen and cooked a late lunch for the three of them, sneaking a plate to Martha while John was eating. She, however, did appreciate the praise he gave her for her tomato bouillon, creamy mushrooms and Mac and Cheese, of course John didn't know it was Mac and Cheese. He only adored the fact that she had added a touch of her Italian heritage to their meal. Bless him for not knowing how much more difficult it was to cook without a microwave or an oven. Rhea had to admit she lost her appetite the moment he mentioned 'love'.

Of course, the final indignity came that night. John wasn't expected to start teaching until the next day. And at around ten at night, Rhea paced around their rooms, wondering exactly what the sleeping arrangements were going to be. Unfortunately, their rooms couldn't accommodate 'servants', so Martha had to sleep downstairs where all the others, who were employed by the school, slept.

John changed into his blue pyjamas, giving her an expectant look, as if waiting for her to join him. That was when she gave up. Rhea sighed and followed him into the bedroom. He was already lying on the bed, reading a book, when she took a seat in front of the vanity. She brushed out her hair with a comb, resolving to leave it out, going down her back. She hesitated after that, looking down at her clothes and wondering what she was supposed to do now. She couldn't very well go to bed dressed like this. It would be insanely uncomfortable and John would think she was absolutely crazy. But she wasn't willing to start stripping in front of him. She decided to take off the dress at least here, she had definitely worn less in front of him before. Once she had slipped the dress off, she stood in front of the mirror in a knee length chemise and corset over it. Her hands moved behind her back and struggled to loosen the ties of the corset.

"Fucking hell." She cursed under her breath.

Suddenly, she heard footsteps behind her and she froze when she felt a presence at her back.

"Are you all right, darling?" John asked, worried. He pushed the long curls of her hair over her shoulder so that they were going down her front instead, leaving her back exposed. His hands made quick work of the corset ties and helped her slip it off. He pressed his lips to the back of her neck as his hands slid from her shoulders, down her arms, to wrap around her waist, resting on the soft material of the chemise, pulling her into his embrace. He buried his face into her hair and hummed, contentedly. He rested his chin on her head and looked at the reflection of them in the mirror. Rhea schooled her face into a blank look, so that he wouldn't be able to see the panic reflected in her mind.

"I'm fine." She said, giving him a small smile.

"Are you sure, though?" John asked. "I know this was all a bit sudden. But I think we can really make it work. Our own little corner of the world."

"That sounds nice, John." She said, hoarsely. He pressed his lips to the back of her head. She slipped out of his embrace, turning around to face. "I'm just going to go and change in the bathroom."

John chuckled as she moved away from him. "Why, darling? We've been married for six years. It's certainly nothing I haven't seen before." Kisses rained down her shoulder, as he pushed aside the strap of her chemise so that he could get more access to her skin.

Rhea ducked inside the wardrobe and pulled out a soft beige sleeveless nightgown and rushed into the bathroom. For the first time since they had landed in 1913, Rhea thanked the TARDIS for being so pragmatic and packing her clothes that fit the time period and clothes that she liked. She stuck her head out of the door and gave him a teasing smile. "Don't make me blush, John." She shut the door behind her, sighing. Well, that's one battle won.

She looked around the bathroom and quickly realised that it wasn't much of one. It was just an empty room with a bathtub in it. She slipped off the chemise and pulled on the nightgown, wrapping a robe around herself that looked a little bit like a kimono. She tied it at the waist and sighed, staring at the closed door. Oh, well, have to go out sometime.

She stepped outside, hesitating as she ran her hands over the silk of her robe. She looked at him, nervously, wondering where she was supposed to go from there. John looked up from his book, setting it aside, momentarily.

"I don't know why you had to change in there." He looked slightly put out.

Rhea bit her lip before answering, falling into their normal flirty banter. "Honey, if I changed in here, you wouldn't be able to keep your hands off me." She said, a teasing smile etched on her face.

John chuckled. "I think that's a given, darling." He put his book down on the table next to the bed and held out one of his hands, crooking his finger. "Now come and kiss me."

Rhea paled and her hands shook. Oh, fuck, what am I supposed to do now? She swallowed hard and approached the bed, slowly. She knelt on the bed and crawled towards him, slipping under the covers and lying back on the pillow. She turned onto her side and pressed her lips to his, half lying on top of him, so that she could get good access. John hummed against her mouth and his hand cupped her face, his fingers slipping into her hair. She hated to admit that she whimpered into his mouth, his lips pressing against hers in all the right ways, sending her body into a heated frenzy, the ache between her thighs growing infinitesimally.

Okay, that's ENOUGH.

A voice screamed in her head and she threw herself off John as if she had been scalded with boiling water. She panted and pulled the covers over her, tucking it under her body and burying her face in the pillow. She felt John shuffle close to her and she held her breath.

"Is there something the matter, Rhea?" John asked, worriedly, his hand falling onto her shoulder and stroking the skin that he had uncovered through his fingers.

"No… just a bit tired." She whispered and closed her eyes, willing herself to escape into dreamland.

The morning of the first day of John's teaching job was interesting for both John and Rhea. She had the fleeting thought that she might actually be able to make the whole domestic thing work. She paused and felt like smacking herself across the face at that thought.

John walked into the room and Rhea spun around to greet him, a smile on her face, but stilled when she realised what exactly he was wearing. She bit her lip to stop the laughter from spilling out. The smile played on her lips and she spun on her feet, turning her attention back to the oatmeal, pouring a generous dollop of honey over the top of two bowls. She placed the two bowls of oatmeal along with some fruit, looking everywhere but John in the eye.

But she had to, eventually. When she did, the laughter spilled out, unwillingly.

"What, what is it?" John asked, worriedly and a little offended.

"Nothing." A smile played on her lips. She moved over to him, personal space becoming inconsequential to her. "It's just… you've even got a tassel." She grinned.

"Yes," He looked down at himself. "What else would I be wearing?" John looked very confused at her words and laughter and it made Rhea want to kiss him all the more.

"Nothing." She waved off. "Ignore me." She picked up one of the bowls on the table. "Here." She held out the bowl to him.

"I'm already tardy as it is." John said, apologetically.

His face fell and Rhea could see the worry enter his eyes. She thought, amusedly, that he must think she'd be upset that he was running out on breakfast.

"It's fine, honey." She said, reassuringly. She smiled over at him and placed the bowl back on the table. She knew Martha would be coming up soon to do the 'chores'. She wondered if Martha would like some oatmeal. Whatever they were giving her in the servant's quarters wouldn't be enough for her.

"Very well." John smiled down at her. "Have a nice day, wife."

He leaned down, intending to give her a goodbye kiss. Rhea steeled herself, raising herself on her toes and leaning up to press her mouth against his.

Of course this was going to end badly.

The second his lips touched hers, she knew she was going to hell. She was a bad person, she knew that. She had broken every single commandment there was. Despite her initial misgivings, a part of her worshipped the Doctor. She worshipped him as the idol that could bring her out of the darkness if she allowed him to. She served him, albeit unwillingly, and she never knew why, but she obeyed him, seeking pleasure at only his hand since the moment she had walked into the TARDIS. She had taken the Lord's name in vain multiple times that that commandment was non-existent for her. She had worked on the Sabbath and she had missed Church every Sunday for four years. She had hardly honoured her mother when she had allowed that sick son of a bitch to use her as his own personal whore and servant for four years and allowed him to keep her away from her mother. She had murdered. She had fucked. She had stolen. She had borne false witness against her neighbour. She had coveted the Doctor. He wasn't hers. She had no right to him.

And this kiss only proved how her sins were stamped in black ink across her soul.

His lips touched hers, intending to be a single, sweet goodbye kiss, a kiss that husbands gave their wives before leaving to go to work. A kiss that was surrounded by a white picket fence, a McMansion in the suburbs and apple pie baking in the oven. A kiss that symbolised unequivocal love and trust and faith and lust and friendship and desire and loyalty and everything that went hand in hand with two people who loved each other more than anything.

She had none of that.

She deserved none of that.

Least of all with the Doctor.

But she was sinful, she knew that.

Her soul ached for the Doctor – John in a way that she couldn't control and a part of her didn't want to control. When she kissed him now, she didn't know if she could ever stop. She knew she'd have problems the next three months. She was fake-married to a guy who thought they had been married for six years. Of course she was going to have problems.

His lips were warm and they moved against her mouth in all the right ways. It sent a blazing heat all the way down to her toes and she was ashamed to say that she moaned, appreciatively. Whatever I say, he's a damn good kisser. His hands falling to her waist, resting on the bony corset she had under her dress. Her hands gripped at his arms through the robes and she threw her head back, breaking the kiss, rubbing herself against him, wantonly. He growled and his lips went to her neck, leaving a trail of kisses up and across her collarbone. She had the vague and fuzzy thought that he might leave a hickey, but all conscious thought was wiped from her mind the moment his hand started to slide up her thigh. His hand was warm against her thigh and she remembered how his cool hand had sent her body into all sorts of tingles that night outside her room, up against wall. His fingers managed to slip between her very open thighs, finding her slick and hot and ready for him, and he pulled back, a scandalised look forming on his face.

"Rhea…" His mouth was open in shock. "You're not wearing anything under your dress." He groaned in dismay, but she could tell he was pleased by her choice of clothing.

Rhea hummed and slid her legs open wider, so that he could slot his hips in between. She rocked up and writhed against him, smirking when she heard him growl in reply, pressing the damp juncture between her thighs against his rigid length. His fingers rubbed and teased and tugged until she was quivering, uncontrollably, in his arms, much to his pleasure and satisfaction and arrogance. Her nails dug into his shoulders and she gritted her teeth, desperately needing more

"Of course, I'm not." She purred. "Now, don't you dare stop touching me." She demanded.

"As you wish, wife." John growled.

It was as if someone had doused her in ice-cold water.

Wife. Wife. Wife. Fuck. Wife.

She shoved herself away from him, abruptly, ignoring his shocked and confused look, and made her way around the table, taking the two bowls and putting them on the counter.

"Sunehri-" His voice was rough and gravelly and confused.

She closed her eyes, making sure her back was turned to him. "Um…" She began, hoarsely. "You're late. You should go."

"Rhea, are you alright?" John asked, stepping forwards, worriedly.

"I'm fine." She smiled as much as she possibly could, but knew that it came off fake and upset. "I just… this probably isn't the best time for that. You should get to class. You wouldn't want to be late on your first day." She said, lightly.

"Yes, you're right." He hesitated, his hands reaching out to hug her or kiss her again, Rhea wasn't sure, but he restrained himself. "Have a nice day, Rhea." He said, quietly, before shutting the door to their rooms behind him.

"Yeah, a nice day." Rhea chuckled, dryly.

How am I supposed to have a nice day when I'll spend the rest of it, thinking of that?

And that was when her heart started to ache anew.

Rhea decided early on that if she was forced to play the Alicia to John's Peter for three whole months, she shouldn't rock any boats, so she came up with the bright idea of remaining mostly silent during the dinner, letting John do most of the speaking for them. After all, isn't that what good 1913 wives dThe first time they were called down to have dinner with the rest of the staff, Rhea swore that hell was real and she was living ? Let their husbands call the shots? She smiled at everyone, demurely, her four years of experience at being the wife of a prominent member of Palo Alto's society kicking her into gear.

She tried her hardest to remain silent despite the bitter looks the Matron was giving her and John, as if they (meaning her) had personally offended her by being in a happy marriage. But she was determined not to rise to the bait.

I'm not responsible for other people's insecurities. I'm not responsible for other people's insecurities.

What was the point of preaching that sort of psychoanalysis to all her clients if she wasn't willing to believe in it herself?

Not to mention, she wasn't going to pretend to be something she wasn't (present 1913 wife character excluded) just so the Matron could feel better about making doe-eyes at another woman's husband, right in front of her.

Of course, all bets were suddenly off when the bitchy nurse started in on the question of children.

"We're young." Rhea said, loftily. "We have plenty of time for children. We're too busy enjoying ourselves, aren't we, honey?" She gave John the most beatific smile she could muster.

"Yes, we are." John said, softly, his warm brown eyes leaving a searing trail across her soul.

"I'll say." A roar of laughter came from down the table. "You both look as in love as you must have been on your wedding day. Like newlyweds."

John grinned. "Oh, every day with my Rhea is like our wedding day all over again."

One of the wives cooed, happily, practically swooning at the romantic words. "Oh, you both are something out of a romance novel."

John grinned, sheepishly, and Rhea was forced to hide her murderous look.

Rhea had hoped that the three months they had to spend in Farringham would pass by like a breeze.

Of course, she was wrong.

When was she ever right?

Instead, she had spent the last two months frantically dodging John's attempts to sleep with her, making sure that Martha wasn't being taken advantage of, and glaring at Nurse Redfern whenever she got just the slightest bit too close to John for Rhea's comfort, desperately waiting for the three months to be over so that she could ask John to open the watch.

The men around her were jackasses. More than usual. She was constantly fighting the urge to reach out and snap the neck of every man whose eyes roved over her figure in these dresses – delicious though her body was in these dresses – not to mention the over-privileged private-school boys who took every moment of their time to give Martha hell for being black and her for being the only pretty thing within miles.

But she knew, at some point, she would be proved wrong.

Days passed and Rhea wondered if her constant dismissal of his urges had effectively downsized John's libido - something which gladdened her greatly. All she had to do was get through the rest of the three months, and they could zooming off to some faraway planet with hopes of an adventure and this would all be put behind them.

Of course, it was only when John stopped touching her that she found that her haphephobia hadn't react in his presence, which was troubling. There was something about him that made him the exception to her agitation around others. He was free to lay a hand on her that others couldn't. And that was more than troubling, that was fucking horrible. She had tried so hard to remain distant from the Doctor, to pretend as if he didn't matter to her at all, that he was just one (unimportant) of many in the long line of men that walked in and out of her life through one of those swivel doors, but the entire time she had been with him, she had been flirting non-stop. Giving him sly looks, sweet smiles, short kisses, innuendos, her seduction technique right from the beginning. It was as if she were trying to contradict every word she had said to the Doctor through her hands. Her stupid, slutty hands. She could pretend to herself that all of those touches were merely platonic, but she knew she'd be fooling herself.

The bedroom was a completely different playing field, however. She, silently, cursed Damian in her head. He still managed to screw her life up from behind steel bars and glass windows.

The bastard.

But if she were being absolutely honest, after spending two months sharing a bed with John and quickly becoming his personal snuggle bunny, she was slowly becoming used to it. After all, it was pleasant. She wondered what it was about the Doctor that allowed her body to completely ignore the haphephobia that had riddled her body since the divorce. Instead, she found herself more concerned with how strong he felt against her.

And his stupid, delicious hands. More than one occasion, Rhea woke, her entire body worked up, her skin flushed and damp, her cunt throbbing and her breasts aching, and biting back the urge to crawl on top of him and kiss him until her orgasm subsided, as she would have on better days – before the concept of monogamous sex with the same person had been soured in her mind.

Unfortunately, she had to admit that it was heady to have John's focus centred completely on her. She had always been attracted to men of power. Her first, legitimate boyfriend – that was not simply a romp in the backseat of her car – had been student council president and valedictorian for his year - asshole. Her husband had been a big-shot cardiologist at Stanford Hospital and had come from old-money stretching back to Napoleon's age. And now, the Doctor: the larger-than-life alien, last of his race, magnanimous and kind beyond belief, owning the universe's greatest spaceship to every exist and he could time travel. What woman wouldn't be attracted to him just the slightest bit?

But she couldn't. Not with him. It was as if she had repeated those very words to herself a million and one times and her mind was still struggling to accept it. She knew exactly what the problem was. That stupid seventeen-year-old girl that still believed in true love and everlasting marriage and a fantasy world where everyone, no matter race or creed, lived together in perfect harmony, and who was dumber than a box of crayons was still rattling around in her mind. Rhea wanted the Doctor. Rhea wanted him forever. Sunehri was a little smarter. Sunehri had been burnt. Sunehri had been hurt beyond belief.

Sunehri had no intention of being hurt again.

Even if she thought the Doctor might just be worth the heartbreak in the end.

Of course, what Rhea didn't realise when she began her rebellion against the age-old values of 1913 was the reaction that John would take to her 'new-found' sense of independence. Nor did she realise that Nurse Redfern would try and take her distance from John as a go-ahead for her own muddled seduction.

Seeing her, with her hand on John's (not the Doctor's) arm – it was as if someone had just switched her on and fury rushed through her veins so quickly that she almost saw black for a moment. Her fists clenched at her side and the fierce stab of jealousy tinged her eyes green, momentarily. She gritted her teeth against the growl that built up in her throat and warned herself to think through this rationally.

It wasn't exactly her business who John allowed to touch him, was it? They were only pretend married, weren't they? But she had a shock of resentment run through her at that thought. Why should she be faithful if he was going to give it up to every pretty blonde that smiled at him? Why shouldn't she be able to get some action if John was going to renege on his wedding vows? Surely, fake Sunehri expected fidelity from her husband. No version of her, even fake, would not expect total and utter faithfulness from her husband.

Oh, my God. Now, I'm acting as if John's wife is a real human being.

She had the completely irrational and borderline psychotic urge to reach out and claw her nails down Nurse Redfern's face, leaving bloody tracks in her wake, the bloodlust calling to her as if it had never left. That side of her was something she preferred to keep under wraps. It wouldn't do well for her to let this version or any version of the Doctor she had the dark side that rivalled Norman Bates, now would it?

A decade of suffering torment at the hands of her husband, not to mention three years surrounded by assassins, had led to a frightful side effect of her not being able to control her rage and instead seeking out unwilling and willing victims to sink her hands into. Sometimes, it would be that stupid frat boy who just couldn't keep his hands off the unwilling sorority girl, or that assassin who was just too quick to underestimate her. Every now and then, she had the urge to go and kill something, the pain of her experiences having been twisted into rage and lust and sometimes they merged together and she found it hard to escape from.

Sometimes, she felt like a vampire, the ache to have blood on her hands too strong.

Like now.

Nurse Redfern should run.

Far.

So should John.

John should run farther.

She hated betrayal. More than anything else in the universe. Betrayal stung at her in a way that physical violence couldn't. The pain of having her free will and dignity and desire stripped away from her by her bastard of her husband had almost paled in comparison with the actual concept of him hurting her. He was her husband. Husbands were meant to protect their wives, to love them. Not treat them like whores and slaves and commodities.

She had hated him when he had started to bring his whores into their home and flaunt them as if they were worth anything compared to her. Their fake blonde hair, fake breasts, too short dress and high heels. One time, she had been so incensed with him, after a particularly damning night where two men had bound her hands and feet with electrical ties and had fucked her, harshly, on the floor, right in front of her husband as he smiled at his wife's humiliation and pain, that she had wound her hand in the whore's blonde locks, dragged her to the front door, and bodily thrown her out onto the street.

Then she had proceeded to rush back inside their luxurious apartment and let her husband fuck her in their marriage bed, their shared possessiveness a better kick than an adrenaline rush.

She hated the sick bastard for what he did to her – he had stripped her of everything she was and remade her in his own image – but he knew all the best ways to bring her to orgasms. Even she had to admit that by the end of those ten years, she had become addicted to pain as part of her orgasm. She hated him more than anything in the universe, but there would always be a part – a sick part – that loved him.

She imagined that it was that her day-to-day routine was beginning to take its toll on her. Otherwise, why else would she seethe with jealousy at the mere sight of John and Nurse Redfern being friendly with one another?

She had expected this. After all, she had left home immediately after high school, gotten married and simultaneously completed her bachelor's degree at Stanford on a full scholarship. She was made to do more during the day. Even from her sabbatical from study, she had spent every day, training like a dog to make herself stronger and fiercer. It was built into her to do something not mundane with her time.

The days she could stomach. He was gone for most of the day that it didn't really matter what she did. It was all just busy work and she could handle it. But sleep was where claws came out, figuratively and literally. His nightmares were more vivid and he called out her name much more frequently, her singing soothing him back into more fitful slumber. Sometimes, his touch would turn possessive and she would suddenly find herself pinned to the bed, his weight pressing down on her, his lips pressing deliciously against hers, and she would react. Her legs would lock around her ankles and she would flip them over, pinning him to the bed with her arm crushing his throat, her eyes wild and deranged and mad, looking every inch of the Valkyrie that her mentors had accused her of being.

She had stammered apologies, begging him to understand that she didn't mean anything by it and that he had startled her by his sudden action. He would apologise, being the sweet gentleman he was, and would kiss her adoringly and chastely on the lips and she would spend the next few hours until daybreak, shaking off the unintended arousal at his kisses, willing herself to be less sentimental and weak and lovesick and curse her hormones.

Could she truly be selfish, though? Wasn't a little discomfort worth what she was giving the Doctor? He deserved to be safe, he had saved her so many times, that she needed to be able to shut her mouth for the rest of the time and just wait until she could open the watch and he could be the Doctor again. She wouldn't be a bitch about this. This man had overlooked her many sins (of which he seemed to know everything about) and had taken her in despite everything. She may not know what he was hiding about her, but she knew enough to know that he was important to her. And that his safety was important to her.

Each evening, she resolved to push through. Each morning, her resolve crumbled like a cookie.

But as much as the nights posed trouble for her, the days ached at her in a way she didn't possible. She wasn't built to be a housewife (not that she had anything against housewives). While she enjoyed to cook, she didn't enjoy it being the be-all and end-all of the day. She cleaned out of necessity, rather than desire, and right now, it was more because of guilt, because she didn't want Martha to get stuck with all the household drudgery.

She had always been an active person. She had spent most of her childhood in between aikido classes and dancing lessons. As a teenager, she had been a cheerleader and studying frantically at the library. As a college student, it was better to be stuck in the library, studying, rather than being at home where she could open herself up for a night of degradation and filth. She had spent five years becoming a fighting machine in the mountains and then being a psychologist had her working at all sorts of hours. When she wasn't working, she was bar hopping, drinking and looking for some company for the night.

Of course, thinking about sex and handsome men was just how she had gotten herself into this situation, so perhaps it would be best if she tabled that thought, then and there.

Rhea had hoped that the three months they had to spend in Farringham would pass by like a breeze.

Of course, she was wrong.

When was she ever right?

But she knew, at some point, she would be proved wrong.

Of course, it was only when John stopped touching her that she found that her haphephobia hadn't reacted in his presence, which was troubling. There was something about him that made him the exception to her agitation around others. He was free to lay a hand on her that others couldn't. And that was more than troubling, that was fucking horrible. She had tried so hard to remain distant from the Doctor, to pretend as if he didn't matter to her at all, that he was just one (unimportant) of many in the long line of men that walked in and out of her life through one of those swivel doors, but the entire time she had been with him, she had been flirting non-stop. Giving him sly looks, sweet smiles, short kisses, innuendos, her seduction technique right from the beginning. It was as if she were trying to contradict every word she had said to the Doctor through her hands. Her stupid, slutty hands. She could pretend to herself that all of those touches were merely platonic, but she knew she'd be fooling herself.

The bedroom was a completely different playing field, however. She, silently, cursed Damian in her head. He still managed to screw her life up from behind steel bars and glass windows.

The bastard.

Sunehri had no intention of being hurt again.

Even if she thought the Doctor might just be worth the heartbreak in the end.

Rhea sat at the dressing table, wearily trying to pull out the many pins that adorned her hair. She rolled her eyes, thinking that this sort of effort was too demeaning to women. She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she didn't realise John's approach behind her and she startled when she felt his slender fingers pulling at her hair.

"What are you doing?" Rhea asked, incredulously, looking at him through the mirror.

"Helping you." He said, simply, and went back to whatever he was doing.

"But why?" She asked, confused.

"Because you take a very long time and I am anxious to go to bed."

She turned around, wary. "But I don't want to have sex." She said, slowly.

John smiled, coldly. "Yes, I know. You've made that perfectly clear." He gestured to the bed. "However, this is still our bed, and I'd like to sleep in it," His lip curled. "If I can have your permission, of course." He said, sarcastically.

Rhea frowned. Why would he want to sleep in the bed, if he wasn't getting sex? She voiced her question out loud to him.

John's face darkened with anger. "After six years of being married, if you believe that I would want to share a bed with you solely so that we may couple, then, Madam, it seems there something truly amiss with us." He growled.

He turned around and made to turn down the covers of the bed, when she approached him, cautiously. She placed a hand on his shoulder and twisted around his hip so that she could face him. Her hand slid up from his shoulder to curve around his jaw and she kissed where her thumb stroked the underside of his jawbone, softly, but apologetically. She could see in his eyes, which softened remarkably, that he had forgiven her for her thoughtless, yet insulting, question, and no more words were needed between them.

Rhea shifted and reached up, wrapping her arms around his neck, as his came around her waist, nuzzling into her neck. She sighed and pulled away, taking his hand and leading him to the bed, both of them slipping into their respective sides, Rhea sliding closer to John, his hand splayed against her stomach. Cuddling. Goddamnit. What is it about this guy, Time Lord or not, that makes me do this?

Hours later, Rhea was still staring up at the ceiling, unable to sleep, her hand covering John's hand, when she felt John start to shift around next to her. She bit her lip and looked over at him to see his eyes screwed shut in pain, his lips mouthing words she couldn't decipher, his fingers clawing into the quilt and the pillow. His breathing was laboured and Rhea's eyes widened as shouts began to spill from his lips. Suddenly, he stopped, his face relaxed somewhat, but his hands still dug into the bedcovers and his eyes were still screwed shut.

"Rhea, Lovely, come back." He begged.

She swallowed hard.

"Rhea, I'm sorry I couldn't protect you from him, but I'll never let anyone hurt you again." He whispered. "Just don't leave me. Can't live if you leave me."

Her eyes widened.

He's talking about Damian.

The bastard that continued to haunt her memories and dreams.

And, apparently, his too.

But what was it to him?

Whatever it was he was seeing had him gasping awake and looking frantically around, sweat matted in his hair. She slid a careful hand up his tense spine and pulled him down, pillowing his head against her breasts and running soothing fingers through his hair. He looked at her, wildly, his hand reaching for her, touching her cheek, wordlessly. She leaned into his touch and felt him sigh. She pressed a warm kiss to his forehead and marvelled at her own ability a comforting presence to anyone.

"Everything's fine, baby." She crooned, warmly. "I'm not going anywhere, I promise. Don't worry."

"You-you were dead. You were just lying there. They just killed you. I could do nothing to stop them." He whispered.

"I'm here, though, baby." If she were being honest, she was confused. The most dangerous thing that had happened to her since she started travelling with him was probably losing her face to the Wire in 1953, but she hadn't died there. So, he had to have been talking about something else. Something she hadn't done yet. "See, all alive."

John sighed and nuzzled into her bosom. The cynical part of Rhea said, dryly, that he was trying to cop a feel, but for once in the last few years, Rhea shoved that part of her down. The Doctor – John needed her and she was going to be there for him, damnit. Her lone wolf urges started to itch and rail against the close physical contact, longing for some breathing room, but she shoved it away, putting her pride aside and seeking the comfort she had once desperately coveted from a man. And, nowadays, she was beginning to think that the Doctor was the man she wanted to comfort her.

"Sing to me." John muttered. "I love it when you sing to me."

Rhea was startled. No one had ever asked her to sing to them. She didn't do it very often. Mostly, in the shower, never in public. "What do you want me to sing?" She asked, gently.

"Something. Anything. One of your Eastern songs. They're always quite soothing."

Eastern songs. I'll forgive him for that this one time. Rhea nodded and they shifted, so that John was lying half on top of her, most of his body on the bed, but his head resting against her breast. "Okay, I'll think of a song."

John hummed against her skin. "I love you."

Rhea swallowed hard, not knowing what to say after that. "I love you too." She said, hoarsely, not knowing if she meant it or she was just saying it back as an obligation. "Um, okay, thought of a song." She told him.

"Sing." He ordered, gently.

"Saiyaara main saiyaara, Saiyaara tu saiyaara. Sitaaron ke jahaan mein milenge ab yaara." Her voice was low and lyrical, the foreign words slipping easily off her tongue. "Saiyaara main saiyaara, Saiyaara tu saiyaara. Sitaaron ke jahaan mein milenge ab yaara."

"What does it mean?" John asked, his voice weary and his eyes drooping.

"Planet, I'm a planet now. Planet, you're a planet too. And we shall meet again in the world of stars now." She whispered, pressing a kiss to his hair.

"That's very sweet." John murmured.

"Yeah, it is." Rhea said, absentmindedly, thinking that the lyrics were apt for this situation.

The Doctor and her would meet in the world of stars again.

A/N: I hope you liked the internal monologue of Rhea from her time in 1913.

She seemed a little insane halfway through this chapter when she saw Nurse Redfern. She can be a little crazy and she is a little demented after what she went through with her husband. They had kind of a love-hate relationship which became a lot more hate than love towards the end. I didn't think it was right for the Doctor to have a relationship with someone who wasn't just the slightest bit insane herself. And I think this chapter shows just how insane she is and how her tendency to be violent ties in with that.

A part of me feels like that ending was a little cheesy. What do you think? Hope you all liked the chapter though. I find the idea of Rhea dodging a human Doctor expecting sex really funny. They had quite a few almost moments there and there'll be much more in the future. Oh, and what do you think the Doctor was dreaming about in the end? What's gonna happen to Rhea?

Anyway, hope you all liked the chapter and don't forget the review!

Replies to Reviews:

Falling Right Side-Up: I'm glad you liked my characterisation of 11. I try my best to stay on that fence where he's part-kid and part-scary-alien. And I agree, I enjoy 11's duality so much more because I feel like, in heart of hearts, that's what the Doctor is supposed to be. Completely eccentric and just kind of dense. He's like every personality trait mixed into one being and I love that about him. I do have a massive soft spot for 11 and 11 with Rhea, so definitely expect more interludes and alone times with them. That speech from 11 was one I've had in the works for a little while because I thought it would be more appropriate coming from 11, since he's the first Doctor that she meets. It meant more to her coming from him. I haven't actually allowed for 12 in my plans yet, but as soon as I finish the first section of this story with the first season finale I plan on doing, I'll definitely include 12 because I feel like he and Rhea would have this amazing flirty, yet mature relationship and Rhea would just love getting under his skin because 12's so put-together and she's gonna love embarrassing him in public with all of her innuendo.

Serendipity989: Oh, honey, don't cry. Here, another chapter :)

Marion: Thank you so much! Unfortunately, Rhea is just such a tortured soul that it'll take her quite some time to get into a happy place with any of the Doctors. Oh, honey, I'm happy that my writing affects you to the point of physical symptoms, but I am worried that you're having chest pains, as a fellow kindred spirit with a heart condition. Take it easy and I hope you enjoyed this chapter too!

NicoleR85: Thank you! Hopefully, Human Nature/The Family of Blood was enough of a surprise! I'm really excited for Human Nature/The Family of Blood because it's really exciting to explore Rhea's relationship with John. Haha, as for Joan Redfern, there's definitely going to be friction there.

BloodyBlondeVamp: I'm so sorry you left that review and it took me months to update again, but thank you so much for leaving it in the first place! I think 11 could be really seductive when he wants to be. He has that kind of intensity that, whenever he uses it, is just really emphasised because he acts like a little kid half the time. And I could see Rhea dying a little from 11's speech, as opposed to a different Doctor (although I could see 12 and 9 like that too). Hope you liked this chapter!

deathb4beauty: Thank you so much! I know, I feel so bad for her. But that adventure was definitely a step in the right direction and the Doctor will break down all her walls sooner or later. Probably later, since it's Rhea we're talking about.

LookAliveSunshine03: Thank you! But unfortunately, it's never going to be that easy. Hopefully this chapter helped a bit with that. I'm so glad you enjoyed the chapter! Yeah, it sucks when she's being closed-off, but in that last scene, I think she thought he looked so pathetic and sad that she just had to comfort him, even if it meant giving him room that she really shouldn't be giving him. She's definitely confused and damaged, moreso than him, but I think she's slowly getting there. As for the Wire, I already did the The Idiot's Lantern (chapters 18-19), it was pretty miserable when it took Rhea's face. But it was awesome writing a furious Doctor.

.ivy: I'm so glad you thought 11 was in character. I have to admit, sometimes I doubt whether they are, and it's good to have someone else's opinion. I'm also happy you liked Rhea in this chapter. I know sometimes she can be difficult and even I wish that she'd just get over everything, but I also feel like it wouldn't realistically be that easy with anyone who's been through the same stuff she has, and I'm glad you liked the insight into her character in the chapter.

grapejuice101: Who knows, he may come back! And I imagine just as much as I am to update.

Olivia: I can understand that. Actually, sometimes when I'm writing, I also feel the same way. But at the same time, I feel as though a person who has been through the same as what Rhea has, they wouldn't give into the Doctor so easily. I know it's a bit trying, but I prefer the slow burn to her just falling in love with the Doctor at first sight. Hopefully, you can hold on until the good stuff.

screaming-motorcycles: Thank you so much!

Potatoe: Honestly, so do I. And the way she looks at it is that he's at least a decent guy that helps people and believes in mercy and goodness and all that jazz. Whereas, she's the complete opposite. She's cruel and violent and indifferent. She thinks she would be bad for him and she's a bit single-minded that way. She thinks she'll do something and then he'll have to put her out and it's better to push him away before she gets too deep. And it's alright, ramble all you like. I like hearing everyone's opinion on what's going on. Plus, I get to talk it out with someone. Thank you so much for reviewing!

Audrie-13: I hope you had an awesome birthday and feel free to take the chapter as your birthday present! I'm so glad you enjoyed the chapter. And I'm really sorry for your loss, hun. I understand grief pretty well and if you ever need to talk to someone, I'm always here!

opalheart12: Sorry it took me so long to update, but I hope you enjoyed this chapter! Frankly, I both love and hate the slow burn too. And I think it's an interesting idea, it may be something to look forward to in the future. For Rhea to turn around and take a step back and say 'I need to focus on me'. I've never heard those songs before, but I'll definitely take a look at them and see if I can work them in somehow. Thank you so much!

GrumpyCatWriter101: Thank you so much!

Tatewaki2000: I am evil. I confess. I'm building up to badassness, I promise. Thank you so much for leaving a review!

Guest: I know. It's a pet peeve of mine as well. I mean, you don't touch hot metal without burning your skin off. But thank God for dermal regeneration.

awesomebananasplit8: Thank you so much! I'm so glad you've enjoyed the story so far and I'm glad you like Rhea. She's definitely one of my favourite characters to write because there's so much to write and fixate on with her. And you're really sweet to say that. Hopefully you liked this chapter too!

Calliope29: Sorry it took so long to update, but hopefully this chapter was well received and less frustrating than usual!

Brookeworm3: Thank you so much! I'm glad you're enjoying the story and hopefully you'll get to see Rhea with all the Doctors soon enough. It will happen, I promise. I'm not just building up to something and then ending it before it actually happens. And that is really my motivation behind the slow burn. Rhea's gone through a lot of shit in her life that she just wants to be really sure before she goes in too deep. Thank you for waiting so patiently for an update and don't worry, Stormdancer will be updated soon enough too!

ClownWhosFeelnDown: I can understand what you're saying. Actually Jumping Through Time prompted me to write this story. Right now, because it is still early days considering the amount of episodes that I still need to get through, I'm trying to focus on individual characterisation and relationships that underlie the overall plotline. But don't worry, I am planning some big changes regarding the plotlines in the future, I'm just focusing a bit more on how the characters are interacting with each other and developing Rhea's character more, so it makes sense later on when those big changes happen. But thank you so much for your feedback!

SakuraBlossom58: Thank you so much! I'm so glad you've enjoyed it so far!

TheDoctorsTrueCompanion: I have stopped writing each of the jumps in great detail, but in the future, they come back. You can pretty much assume that if she does suddenly change the Doctor she's with and there's no detailed jump, that she has already jumped and I just didn't include it. Sorry if I didn't make that clear enough.

Arty Shea: Thank you so much for leaving a review, honey! I am definitely continuing this story and I won't abandon it, I promise. It's my baby and I have some great plans in store for it too.

Just a Lone Wolf: Haha, it's amazing what the mind wants us to see, isn't it? You have no idea how many times I've done the same thing.

Guest: I'm so sorry for taking so long to update, but hopefully you enjoyed this chapter!

Firedrakegirl: Thanks! I'm so glad you're enjoying the story so far and I'm glad you like Rhea's relationship with the Doctor and the TARDIS (she's hands-down one of my favourite characters in the show).

Melissa Fairy: Hopefully this chapter helped!

Sophie Marcel: Lol, thank you for reading. I hope this chapter was worth to wait!

BabeRuthless87: Yeah, I love my suspense. I just think that the actual moment between Rhea and the Doctor should be damn momentous because she's that kind of girl. It's taken hell and high water to get her to that point, so it might as well go out with a bang. But it will happen, I promise.

SporkGender: Haha, I assure you, I have never met any of them unfortunately. Although, if I have it my way, it'll happen one day. But I'm glad you like my interpretation of them. It's always hard writing fanfiction, not knowing whether you're keeping existing characters in character or not. I'm glad you're enjoying Rhea as well. I thought it may be interesting to have a POC OC and I guess I write Indians better because I am one, plus I thought it would be interesting to explore Doctor Who from that kind of ethnic perspective, only because with existing POC characters in Doctor Who, we still only really see the story through either the companion's or the Doctor's perspective. I'm so glad you're feeling better though and if you ever want to talk, I'm always here!

JediGemini: Yeah, I had to end it there. Can't go giving it all away at once.

RandomFandoming: Thank you so much! Yeah, I try and make the relationship as real as possible and a lot of the chapters so far were more about building the relationship between the Doctor and Rhea before they actually started anything physical or romantic. And I do love my suspense. As for the race thing, I just thought it might be different and interesting to explore the Doctor Who universe from someone who isn't Caucasian and who is heavily influenced by her culture and religion. And I agree with you about racism, I know people get touchy about the concept of reverse racism, but I'm of the belief that it does exist, as someone who has experienced it in my own culture and in my own home. People everywhere are capable of racism; it's not just restricted to one race or one culture. And I'm sorry you don't feel comfortable enough to tell your family about your sexuality. As someone who also lives in a conservative household, I understand why you feel like you can't come out to them.

amxliapond: Well, I love your name change. And you know what, fair enough. I exchange fandoms like every month or two or so. And I can understand why you wouldn't watch season 9. Although, in my opinion, it was pretty good. But 11 regenerating did suck a lot, he was a very good Doctor in my opinion. And it doesn't sound stupid to me a lot. A couple of years ago, I was going through a lot of medical issues and honestly, I was pretty depressed, and believe it or not, it was fanfiction that helped me through a lot of troubled times over the years. But I'm so glad this story was one of the ones you came back to and thank you so much for leaving a review!

Guest: I think it's interesting too. It's kind of a contradiction/flaw to her personality that she refuses to get help for her own issues. She's aware she has those issues, but she's just not willing to get better. She even knows what she has to do to get better, but it's just a step she's not willing to take.

1moon101: Thank you so much! I hope to do Classic Who at some point too, but only once New Who is completely done and I actually get around to watching all the episodes in Classic Who; I've only watched a few, here and there.

xXImperfectionXx7: Thank you so much!

Scribleyellow: Thank you so much! Um, I'm not quite sure. It's something that maybe Rhea would request, but I'm not quite sure I'd feel comfortable writing it, considering the subject matter. But you never know, I may be tempted to write it in the future.

Guest: Rhea will definitely meet the 12th Doctor at some point. He's definitely one of my favourites too, but it probably won't be easy at the beginning, considering he's a Doctor she's not familiar with, and the Doctor's not really certain that there's a relationship with her beyond his 11th regeneration considering that's the last regeneration she has memories with and he thought that would be his last, not to mention that the Doctor's going to be kind of awkward with the whole no-touching thing. But I don't think that's going to bother Rhea too much lol. She'll definitely get in there somehow.

PortgasDTatze: Thank you so much! I'm so glad you're enjoying yourself and I'm glad you like Rhea.

twilightvamps: Thank you! I know, I've noticed that people are having difficulties with the original chapters, so from now on, I will write which Doctor it is with Rhea at the beginning of the chapter.