The next morning, John was rather keen to get downstairs. Unlike the rest of the school, he'd gotten a fair amount of sleep, but even then, his dreams were plagued by the mystery woman. Well, not the mystery woman per say. She had been appearing in his dreams for a while now, imposing as a young, beautiful woman named Rose Tyler. John had been drawing whatever he could remember from his strange dreams in his small journal, nearly every one of the used pages inhabiting an image of the young adventurer.
Walking down the stairs stiffly, he kindly greeted his fellow Professors and passing students, quickly running into the Headmaster as he appeared from his study. "Ah, Mister Smith!" he called as he walked toward his employee.
"Headmaster," John greeted, turning around to face his superior. What did he want now?
"I'm afraid Mister Spilling has been rather ill of late," the Headmaster explained vaguely. "The Matron claims he is in dire need of a doctor and left early this morning. Would you save me the bother of conducting his lesson?"
John knew Mister Spilling quite well. He was in charge of teaching the boys the ways of combat; taught them to fire a gun and such like. John himself had never really been awfully fond of guns and had no desire to teach young men how to use them, but sadly, orders were orders. With a nod and a goodbye, John turned back, walking away from the Headmaster, catching a hint of golden hair out of the corner of his eye as he did so.
After his small lesson his a majority of the young men, John walked toward his study, ready to take his robes off and change into something more comfortable. There was a small sob from the corner of the hallway, John noticing the small figure of one of the younger boys. "Banks?" he asked as the small boy looked up with claret eyes. He stifled a sniffle, then went back to crying. "What's wrong, old boy?" he asked as he trenched to his student. He was actually rather fond of the small boy, but never had John seen him in such a state. After much coaxing, John noticed a large shred down the side of the youngsters trouser leg, a small pool of blood behind him.
Helping him up, John placed his hand on the back of Banks' back as he limped through the hallway. "Let's get you to the Nurse, shall we?"
Soon after Toby Banks had told his Professor what had occurred with one of the older pupils, however not uttering the name of whom it was, they reached Nurse Redfurn's quarters, John knocking on the door calmly. They waited for a few brief moment, the sound of the Matron's voice coming to the door. "Oh, Lord, if I have one more person knocking on my door-" the door swung open, revealing Nurse Redfurn. She calmed down at the sight of John, giving a shy smile. "Mister Smith," she greeted, not noticing the small boy. "May I help you?"
"Well, certainly not me, but you might be able to help Mister Banks here," he gestured the small boy, who stood shyly by him. "Rather nasty injury along his calf, I'm afraid." Nurse Redfurn looked down at the young boy, hastily taking note of the red liquid. She ushered them both in, muttering to them, "After last night, I feel quite ill at the sight of blood."
"Well, I'm sorry to say you'll be seeing a little bit more," John said regretfully, looking around the room. "Speaking of which, Matron, where is the young lady?" The Nurse helped Toby into a chair, nodding to the desk near the far end of the room, a young woman sitting near a window. She'd looked considerably different since the last time he saw her. Her blonde hair glowed in the sunlight, the ends of her hair sparkling a died red. Her brown eyes looked down at the strange objects in front of her, her fingers flittering across the rim of each piece of parchment with people smiling on them. Whoever had drawn these was exceedingly skilled as they looked almost nothing like sketches. The bag she was wearing the previous night still wore its muddy coat as it lay on the desk, bits and pieces just about noticeable from a close distance.
John peered over her shoulder as Nurse Redfern tended to Toby, watching as she looked intensely at a drawing of her and a dark skinned male, her arms slung around his shoulder. They were in some sort of office, a large 'T' stained on the window. The pair were smiling at the artist, a man in the background looking as if he were walking toward them. "Whoever drew that must have some talent," John commented, making the young woman jump. John frowned when he looked at her face completely. She looked familiar, very familiar. However, the ugly, red mark that ran from her cheek to her neck made him grimace. A face as... well, truth be told, beautiful as hers shouldn't have been tainted the way it had been.
"I s'pose," the woman said, giving him a smile as she looked back at her bag as John took note of her accent. She pulled out a concealed envelope which she curiously opened, taking the white parchment out and scanning through the text.
"I'm John," he greeted, extending his hand, which she shyly shook. "You're from London, aren't you?"
"I must be," she shrugged. She held up a few other envelopes, which had all been emptied. "Letters to Marion Tyler, London, Powell Estate, found in the bag I was carrying. And this," she added, taking some sort of strange necklace from around her throat. It looked like a beaded chain, a silver tag at the bottom which 'Marion Tyler, 3475' was carved into in great detail and no errors. She gave him an awkward smile, looking back down at the drawings.
John got a strange feeling about the young woman as her hair surrounded her face, framing it as if she were from above the Heavens. He'd never such a beautiful woman before. Well, maybe besides his mother. Her eyes looked around the drawing as if trying to place her finger on something, but couldn't. Sighing, she looked back up at him and found he was staring at her. He looked away quickly when both realised what he was doing, John snapping up from his seat as he placed his clammy hands behind his robes. "Lovely to meet you, Miss Tyler," he said in farewell, walking back towards Toby.
This time, it was Marion's turn to grimace as she replied, "Please don't call be Miss Tyler, Sir. It sounds way too formal for me. Just Marion, yeah?" she requested. He gave her another smile, nodding his head. "In that case; it was lovely to meet you, Marion."
A.N: Just because I got awesome feedback from you guys, I updated :)
