So... this is just a random little oneshot about Lucy Saxon. She is an odd one, isn't she?
Disclaimer: Do I look like Russell T Davies? No, this ain't mine.
#3: A Strange Kind of Survivor's Guilt
Sometimes, she thinks that she shouldn't feel guilty for surviving when he didn't. But then something in her head reminds her that she shot him, she pulled the trigger.
The plan was so perfect. It was all going to be so wonderful when Harry's plan came to fruition. A perfect new world, and she would have been its queen.
But then they had to come along and spoil it. The Doctor and the Freak and that stupid girl. They ruined everything, and now she had nothing. No husband, no wonderful new world, no status, nothing.
After he died, she'd been taken to her parents' country home. A doctor said she was suffering from post-traumatic shock, and she was coddled and looked after like a sick child for a few weeks. She took pains to make sure that they thought she was recovering – always hiding her true thoughts, her true feelings. Eventually, she told her parents – so old now, so worried about dear, sweet little Lucy, so caring – that she wanted to take a holiday, by herself. They let her go.
She didn't take much. One suitcase, with a few clothes and some jewellery. And of course she had it. The ring. Harry's ring (in her head, she still thinks of him as Harry, even though she knows it wasn't his name).
She takes her one little suitcase, and the ring, and she finds a place to stay. She's frustrated, because she wants it to be now. But she remembers the plan. The instructions he gave her, in case anything went wrong. She had to wait until her son was born. Then it would all be all right again.
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