Chapter Two
Spectacular Tomorrow
"So where are you taking me?" John asked after a few minutes of walking in silence, realizing he didn't know.
"Principle Vastra will want to see you. She always talks to the new students individually."
John nodded, "Right. The blue dude at the gate said she would."
Glancing back at him, Rose smiled in amusement, "Oh, that's Dorium. He didn't pick you pockets, did he? He's a bit of kleptomaniac."
"A klepto- what?"
"A compulsive thief."
"Oh." John checked his pockets, which were empty anyways. Everything he had was in his backpack.
As they wound through the halls, they passed a few open doors. There were classes in progress- Anger Management, Humanoid Hydraulics, Art. Even the normal sounding classes were strange when John peeked in. The anger management students, ten feet tall of more, were busy slapping rubber dummies, and/ or, being slapped by the rubber dummies. In Humanoid Hydraulics, the students hovered several inches from the floor, meditative and totally silent. The art class was being conducted by a man with at least twenty arms.
John's jaw looked like it would stay in a dropped position permanently. Rose frowned at him, "You alright?" she smiled sympathetically, "It's a lot to take in all at once."
Shaking his head, John tucked his hands into his pockets and bounced back and forth on his heels. "Um… yeah. A bit much…" he murmured.
I must be hallucinating… Again…
"Hey!" Rose waved her hand in front of John's blank face, "Here, come on. I'll get you to Vastra. She'll explain everything."
"I think I'm crazy." John murmured, letting Rose tug him along, "I mean, more than usual…"
"You're not crazy, John. If you were crazy, I wouldn't be able to see everything, right?"
"Maybe I'm making you up too."
Sighing, Rose turned a corner and stopped in front of a Victorian style door. "This is Vastra's office. I can't go in with you, but I'll wait outside if you want."
John withdrew from the girl, marveling at her kindness. It was pink and yellow. "Th-thanks." He stuttered.
His footsteps made little noise as he approached the door. Gulping, John looked back at Rose pleadingly, but she just nudged him forward with her eyes. "Go on. She's not going to bite- well… actuall-" at John's expression, she quickly changed her words, "Yeah, she won't bite. Go get 'em."
Nodding firmly, John faced the cherry wood. It was so clean he could see his reflection. John saw the nervousness in his eyes. Sighing, he closed his eyes and then opened them again. No stopping now…
Thinking back, If John never stepped through that door, if he had changed his mind and run off, well, there would not be a story to tell.
But of course, he knocked.
Immediately, the door strung open on well-oiled hinges. "Come in!" a female voice ordered. "Close the door behind you!"
Dreading every step, John came forward.
Upon treading into the room, he was immediately blasted with humidity. Plants hung in every area available. Trees were on the floor, and other tropical plants hung in woven baskets. Surprisingly, a cloud hung in the air, obscuring the ceiling from view. The carpet had originally been red, but it was littered with leaves and bits of grass, and was no longer visible. Throughout the room, shafts of sunlight stabbed the air, creating a dappled, twilight feel to the area.
"Do you like it?" a voice murmured.
John spun around. He was so engrossed in the scenery that he failed to notice the woman sitting in a woven chair, behind a glass desk.
She leaned back, her hands crossed in her lap. The woman wore a black dress and a veil covered her face. Honestly, John didn't understand how she wasn't sweltering in this heat.
"Um... yeah." John said, in answer to her question, "It's a bit hot, though."
The woman smiled from under her veil, "Yes. It is. I like it that way." Leaning forward, she withdrew a file from a glass drawer.
John frowned in bafflement. The desk was glass, see-through, but he couldn't see inside of the drawers. The file seemed to appear out of thin air. "Oh did-"
"John Smith, I presume?" the woman interrupted, "Sit down. I am Principle Vastra and you will address me as such. Do you understand?"
"Yes."
"Yes what?"
John frowned, "Yes… Principle Vastra?"
Vastra smiled, nodding her head, "Good boy. You'll catch on fast. Now…" she flipped through some pages which John assumed was his file. "How do you like my school, John?"
"It's a bit…"
"Insane? Impossible?" Vastra supplied, amusement in her voice. She slapped the file down, making John jump. "First of all, I want you to know, John, that this is not a hallucination." She withdrew her veil from her face and stared at him without expression.
John was sinking into a chair, but now his legs gave out and he plopped down in shock and disbelief. She was green, with scales instead of skin, yet despite it, she managed to hold an air of elegance.
"Oh my…"
How can this not be a hallucination?
John laughed without humor, "This is crazy! Just down the hall there's a kid shooting bullets out of his mouth! And you- you're-"
"I'm a lizard woman from the dawn of time." Vastra finished for him, enjoying his baffled eyes.
"Last time I checked that's imposs-"
"Last time you checked," Vastra interrupted, "You lived within a very confined worldview that the government has put in place. Did you really think that the impossible was really impossible?"
John said nothing.
Vastra chuckled, "Of course you did. But that's not the point. The point is that there is much more to the universe than you ever knew and you are one of the lucky few who get to experience it."
John was still incredulous, but he didn't protest. He could feel the honesty coming off of her like yellow sunlight. She wasn't lying, at least, that's what his 'perceptions' told him. "Okay…" John murmured, "Say for a moment I believe you, then why me? What's so special about me? Why do I get to 'experience it'?"
The lizard woman nodded, like she was expecting this question. "Yes. Well let's see." She glanced down at John's file, flicking through it. "You have a history of Psychosis- specifically Schizophrenia, all which is rather normal with my students." She read for a moment, "Four psychiatrists, really?"
John blushed, "Yeah, well. I kept biting them."
"And why ever did you do that?" The Principle murmured, "I'm not judging you, psychiatrists have a very unique taste, hard to find anywhere else. I'm just curious."
Looking at the floor, John shrugged, "They kept telling me what I saw wasn't real."
"Of course they did. But do you know what, John?" her voice was soft now.
"What?"
"Just because something isn't seen, doesn't mean it isn't there." Slowly, Vastra replaced the file into her glass drawer. "See?" she murmured when it disappeared. "You can't see it, but's still there. You don't see what's not there, you see what everyone else misses."
John closed up now. What she was saying was too much. He'd lived all of his life with the condemnation that he was insane. Now she was telling him… he wasn't?
It was too much- too much to take in all at once. "You're wrong." He whispered quietly. "It's not real. What I see is just an illusion- a figment of my imagination- a disease."
He watched her disappointment drip onto the table- grey, watered-down ink. Quickly, John looked away. Vastra sighed, "You'll come to believe me with time, John. Right now you don't have to think about it, but we will broach with subject again sometime soon."
Nodding, John slumped in his chair and waited for her to dismiss him.
She didn't.
Instead she leaned back, crossed her hands on her lap and stared at him in total silence for several seconds. "Now." she murmured, "There is something else we need to talk about. Something not even your psychiatrists know about."
No.
She couldn't know. She couldn't possibly.
"What number are you right now, John?"
No way.
John stiffened, shifting in his chair uncomfortably, "How- how can-"
Vastra rolled her eyes. A fly flew by her head and her tongue jumped out and lapped it up. John was too shocked to be grossed out. "Oh John, I work for the government. I know everything." Her eyebrows rose, "Well?"
John gulped. Sara never told anyone, he was sure of it. No one but the two of them knew about those strange dark nights when he hid under his blankets. No one knew about the pain in his chest as invisible fire consumed him and he woke up hours later without any knowledge of what transpired. Anything that held his reflection would be crushed, blood from his fists on the sharp edges, but no cuts on his hands.
Only Sara Jane- his mother- knew. She kept him safe on those nights, kept him hidden. And now this- this lizard thought she knew everything. John gulped. No going back now.
"I'm not a number, Principle Vastra." John spoke, his voice quiet. "I'm just me."
She nodded, her sympathy baby-blue. "Of course." She wasn't as flippant now. John figured she'd seen the terror in his eyes.
She leaned forward, her gloved hand on his. "I need you to trust me, John. I want to help, do you understand?"
How many times had he heard that? John lost count. "I understand." He choked.
Then Vastra leaned back, all business again. She let John compose himself before asking her next question. "Now, I need you to tell me. How many numbers are there?"
That's how he thought of them- of these strange episodes. Some episodes felt different, unique, its own. Each type of episode had a number. John bit his lip, "One through twelve." He bit out.
Vastra was silent, processing this information. Slowly, curiosity got the better of him, and John looked up from the ground. He expected Vastra to pitying, condescending.
But she wasn't. She was kind and fascinated. "How unusual…" she murmured. "If I was I psychiatrist, I would diagnose you with a multiple personality disorder-"
John knew that. Sara had looked up the symptoms on the internet and that was the closest diagnosis she could come up with.
"But-" Vastra continued, hanging the word up to dry, "I doubt you're that mundane, John Smith." She smirked kindly, "John Smith, such an ordinary name, for such an extraordinary boy…"
John blinked. What did she know about him that he didn't? Suddenly he dying to know. What exactly were the episodes? Why did they happen, and why couldn't he remember what happened for hours, even days after? He opened his mouth to ask, but was hushed by a gloved finger. "Thank you for coming to my school, John. I hope we can benefit you in every way. We will talk again later."
"But-"
"Go on. You're already reeling under all that I've told you, I can tell. Now shoo! I've got things to do." She reached under her desk and pulled out a piece of laminated paper. "This is your class schedule. You will follow it to the dot. Tardiness is not tolerated."
John took it from her, not looking at it, and just like that, Principle Vastra dismissed him.
Realizing it was impossible to get any more answers out of her, John slowly stood up and walked across the room. He paused at the doorway, glancing back at the principle. "I don't know if you're right about my hallucinations, but…"
"But?"
John bit his lip and turned away. But I hope you are. "Never mind." He said instead.
Then John turned the doorknob and exited the office.
He couldn't see, but Vastra looked up as he left. She smiled. No doubt about it, that boy was going to be spectacular someday…
AN: Wow. I did not think this many people would read this. Thank you for going through with it! So my plan originally was for this to be an X-Men/Doctor Who crossover, but I don't know enough about X-men to do that, and I really just like the idea of a school with a bunch of 'strange' children. So if you see similarity, that's why. Review, Follow, Favorite! It makes me SO happy!