The morning had no chance of waking the Doctor, who hadn't slept much more than an hour at best he had deduced. In the time between the rising sun and the setting moon he had taken the silence as a welcoming gesture to freely enter the gallery below. With his hands in his pockets, his eyes scanned the numerous painting which covered the pale white walls. There were paintings of the lakes, the singing fish jumping about, singing under the burnt orange sky, some were of stationed TT Capsules, military and all, lined up like toy soldiers, and another was of the city of glass. The Citadel, such a city it had been, a city of Time Lords and Ladies alike, all living together. Their minds linked and all together talking about one thing or another, all alive and under the President's control. It had been the only place he would ever truly call home, but now, it was gone. He stood there, a hand on the painting, his head bowed as he fought back the feelings welling up in his chest.
He could feel his hearts harden within his chest, these painting haunting him at the undoing he had done. His past now nothing but uneven and warm colored dollops along the once clean canvases, all still an open wound. It felt bitter, a dry roughness along the back of his throat, the memories. He clutched his teeth, the anger now boiling through his blood as it rushed down his veins. Such hatred, such scorn and pain all collapsing around him, his mind built like the Roman Empire, now breaking, crumbling; falling, everything falling. He could feel his hearts shattering as he began remembering things he wished he couldn't, wished that he could delete such hateful things which left his insides to rot. Such terrible things he had done, and not even once. He had never imagined all those years ago of the man he was meant to have become and right now it was making his nerves go numb.
He hadn't noticed her, why should he? She stood in the doorway, her hands clutching onto the two warm mugs of hot chocolate. Her long, pale hair had been loosely tugged into a braid which rolled down her shoulder and over her large knitted multi-colored jumper. Its hem hugged her thighs and covered her knuckles as her expression was that of understanding and not of fear or worry. Her eyes, even at such odd hours of the early morn, were clear and still sparked in the dim lighting. She didn't understand why she understood his way towards her work, but she felt it, she knew it. It made her heart crack and at the same time she felt a pang of pity, like she could feel that her work was more than just fantasy, to him it was real; oh so very real.
She cleared her throat, the Doctor's head snapping in her direction. She felt a stab as she saw the small fragments of what was left of his own sanity glittering within his eyes, feeling something coil tighter in her heart. She smiled, a rather crooked smile with that, her hand raising the warm mug high, an offering. The steam stirred around the air which shifted once he came close, inches from the young Welsh girl. They stood there, his mind trying, trying so hard, to burst through again, to see into her mind once more. His eyes bore holes into hers, making her shiver and inhale sharply in surprise as his thin fingers began to wrap around the offered cup. She caught her breath once more, her lungs filling with the cool air between the two of them.
"Thank you." His voice made her body freeze, goose bumps radiating across her skin.
She nodded in response, her voice gone, following the Doctor as he walked back to the same seat they had previously been yesterday. He took a seat, the mug sitting between his hands, his eyes locked with hers as she still stood in the doorway. Their voices were not speaking, not heard and yet they were in a conversation. His mind was still prying into hers from afar, trying to see if the biological conversion had been damaged enough, and the cracks within her human made mind were wide for him to squeeze through. He watched her bring the white porcelain mug to her pale lips and took a sip as she made her way towards him. She soundlessly sat across from him, the mug wrapped delicately within her small hands.
She was so delicate. All her features, and it boggled his mind that he was sitting with the infamous Ghost of Gallifrey, the girl he had seen die. He felt his throat go dry, taking a quick sip of the hot chocolate, the warm liquid moistening his lips and throat once more. It must be a dream, it had to be. She had been shot, twice. She was dead upon the cold metal floor of the Crucible during The Last Great Time War. She yawned, breaking his mental concentration and thoughts all in one; almost like she was bored of his attempts. He straightened up a bit, clearing his throat lightly preparing to speak. For the first few moments, they just sat there, looking at each other with their cups of chocolate in hand.
"If you're tired, you should go back to bed." He took another sip of the chocolate, loving the sweetness which rolled down his throat.
"No, not tired, just sort of bored." She smiled, following his steps with the chocolate. "Can I ask you something?"
He nodded, anticipating the question moments before she spoke. "You look at these paintings, these, rubbish things and you become a different man. What do they mean to you?"
He paused, letting her words sink in a bit more. He had known she was going to ask, but he hadn't thought of an answer. He couldn't tell her, not yet. He groaned at the thought of waiting to find out if she was really who he thought she was; even now he knew it had to be her. A twinkle, a small shine bounced off of her and caught his eye. It was a necklace; a locket around her thin neck. It rest between the protruding collarbones and the silver coloring was shimmering in the rising sun light. He looked at it, the engravings somewhat messy and unclear at the distance between them.
"That necklace, where's you get it?" He didn't even have enough time to register what he had just asked.
It was a small oval shaped locket, the engravings of clustered circles forged on the surface. It was held around her neck by a thin matching chain, which looked older and dirtier then the locket itself. The clasp which kept the locket closed was gold, which stood out amongst the many silver pieces around it. When she looked at it, it was like she had no idea it had been there. Her eyes widened a bit as she held it between her forefinger and thumb, examining the pendant. She didn't move to remove the silver chain from her neck, just the opposite. She dropped it, from her hand and almost from her mind as well. She looked back up at him, the mug at her lips. Setting it down, she shuffled within her seat, trying to think of a good answer towards his question.
"I don't know. I think Jensen found me with it." She let it fall back against her skin, looking back up at the Doctor.
"Jensen? Who's Jensen?" He felt something hot boil within the bottom of his stomach, something he didn't trust about that name.
"He's the guy who found me on the beach three years ago; he's also sort of my doctor." Her cheeks became dusted in a light pink as she spoke of him, affection behind those brilliant pale eyes. Taking a sip of her drink, obviously finishing hers, she stood up, "Well, it's nearly nine and since you're obviously not my doctor, it means Jensen's coming around at nine thirty, like always."
Tucking a loose strand behind her ear, the pale girl smiled exiting the room. She left the Doctor alone within the haunting room. He rubbed his eyes, his mind now exhausted from trying to chip away at her mind, trying to get her back once more, yet his body was more than capable for the day ahead. He stood up, the two white porcelain mugs now the only things left of the two Gallifreyians within the room of memories. He stopped, looking back as his hands were stuffed within his pockets, the room around now lighting up with the filtered sunlight of the morn. The room was silent, so quiet, before the storm. He looked down, not wanting to continue down this path, not to have such hope be proven false. He turned, leaving the room of his childhood, leaving the memories of his past life and leaving the one person who could forever change his life.