"Alright, love, keep your arm still for me."
Violet shut her eyes, and squeezed her sister's hand. There was no way she was going to watch that needle pierce the soft flesh of her right arm. She winced as Dr. Flowers pushed the plunger of the syringe, injecting her with the whitish-clear fluid she had grown so familiar with.
Pulling the needle out, Dr. Flowers placed a bandage on the puncture wound (identical to her sister's), and flashed Violet a smile. "There, all done! I'll be back next week; stay healthy!" She walked out the twins' front door, leaving them alone in their apartment.
"Ow..." Susan murmured, touching her chest. Violet winced, knowing that she would be feeling the same pain in a matter of seconds. Their heart-murmur medication tended to clog up their arteries in their chest, she knew, but that didn't make it any less painful. And...there it was. Owwwww...
"Susan," she murmured, "can't we just go one week without taking these stupid heart shots? What harm will it do?"
"You know what'll happen, Vi," her sister answered. "Our hearts'll go into overdrive, and we'll die. We can't stop having them. I mean, a little pain is worth our lives, right?"
o~o~o
Five days passed, while the girls put the injections behind them. They went to school as usual. Violet snuck away to Paranormal Investigator meetings, disguising them as visiting friends, which wouldn't be a lie. The meetings were held in Neil's apartment, with his mother smiling and bringing them snacks and drinks. It was so cliché that Violet had a hard time taking it as genuine.
"Alright, that concludes this meeting for today," Neil said, putting his stuff away. "Are you all aware of your research and duties?" Muted mumbling followed. "Good. I'll see you all tomorrow."
Everyone immediately got up. Emily and Lily started chattering about the homework they were given that day, and Jeremy picked up a phone to call someone. Violet was packing up the notes she was taking, when Neil stopped close to her. "Hey, those were some nice points you put up there. We totally forgot that he was involved with that Titanic spaceship going for us. Good one!"
Smiling, Violet uttered a quiet, "Thanks," before rushing out the door.
Walking down the stairs and out the apartment building, she started running home, her binder of notes clenched in her hands.
"Mum's going to kill me if I'm late," she muttered, looking down at her shoes. She didn't mean not to pay attention, but she was in a rush. One second, she was dashing home like a madwoman, and the next, she tripped, her binder falling out of her hand, notes flying everywhere like confetti.
Violet bent down to pick her note cards and paper up. Quickly, she remembered. She was in the middle of a busy London street, with paper strewn everywhere. She groaned as the oblivious strangers, natives and tourists alike, kicked her notes around, ruining some, and leaving some intact, though pushing them out of her reach.
"Oi! Oi, my notes! My notes!" Violet cried like a lost child, gathering up all that was worth saving, and ignoring all that wasn't.
She didn't pay much mind when a tall, skinny man in pinstripes kneel down and begin picking up her notes with her. She didn't pay much mind it when the man gathered the papers into a neat pile and held it front of her. She didn't pay much mind when he said to her, "Sorry about that; some of them were ruined. Most of them are alright, though."
She paid attention, though, when she looked up to thank him, and saw his face. At first, she thought she was imagining. But, a quick comparison to the photo was enough to tell her the truth: this man, who saved the earth countless times, who traveled space and time countless times over, who helped a scrawny teenager pick up fallen notes, was the Doctor.