" 'The girl that time forgot?' " the Doctor scoffed. "That's impossible. Time never forgets."
"It doesn't remember either, does it? It simply holds."
"Exactly. It holds the memories of others. So as long as I remember, she can never be the girl that time forgot."
"But you don't remember, do you?"
The Doctor paled. The Grunge grinned wickedly, basking in the horror of the Doctor's realization. "The longer you remain in her presence, the less and less you can remember her. It's what we do. We erase. She is being erased right now. You're watching it happen."
"No. No. It can't be...it's not possible."
"You can't even remember her name anymore, can you?"
The Doctor willed himself to remember. But he couldn't.
"Time never forgets. She can't be erased as long as someone remembers her."
"You don't remember her. You were the last to see her. The infamous "Doctor". You can't remember. What makes you think anyone else does?"
"Someone does."
"No friends, no family, a captive her entire life, not even a pet around to love her. Nobody is left to remember."
"Why?" The Doctor asked, distraught. "Why didn't she have anyone?"
"She was handed to our family through slave trade. We had to keep her isolated; she knew too much."
"Why did you need to keep her? Why not just trade her to someone else?"
"We needed her."
"Why?"
"We needed her essence to take human form."
"What?" The Doctor gasped.
"Her essence."
"You've been feeding off of her soul?"
"For years."
"Why? Why not just kill her?" The Doctor snarled angrily. "It would be more merciful."
"She can't die."
The Doctor was speechless, glancing at her motionless body, illuminated by the time energy that was surrounding her.
"She can't ever die. Believe me, we've tried. She has some strange lock in time; she always comes back, always in the same form, always the was she looked when she turned 19. Any injury she sustained disappears. But she retains her memories."
"She really can't die?"
"No. It really worked in our favor, actually."
The Doctor did not understand.
"Think of how many ways there are to kill a man. Then combine that with someone who can never die. Then, on top of that, add us, a race designed to inflict pain on those weaker than us."
The Doctor's stomach twisted into a sharp knot. This wasn't just evil, it was psychopathic. He shook his head, trying to clear his thoughts. He looked at the tortured, broken girl fading softly on the ground. If he could just remember, she would stay. He had to remember. But every second he looked at her, he could feel her being pulled away from him. He kneeled next to her, tracing the line of her jaw with his fingertips. Humans were so beautiful. He had never met a human that wasn't beautiful. And she was just as beautiful as all the rest, if not more. The Doctor ran his hand across her golden hair, desperately trying to form some kind of a memory. She was too young, too young to have her life extinguished like this. If he could only just remember some part of her, her name, her voice, her eye color. If he could remember anything. He willed himself, one hand one her cheek, the other in his hair. He willed himself to remember. But the golden light continued to close in around her.
"The process is almost complete. She'll be gone in minutes." The Grunge said with a snicker. The Doctor felt his hearts sink.
He had no words to say to the Grunge.
"Why does she matter to you anyways? You're a complicated creature, more complicated than this race anyways. What are you doing running around with a silly little human?"
The Doctor smiled sadly. "Obviously you haven't met many humans. They are the most fantastic creatures I have ever come across. Always listening to their hearts."
"We have a rhyme about that in my culture." The Grunge said with a sarcastic grin. "The beat of a heart is a wild tune, from midnight to morning to afternoon. If you follow it's path it will lead you astray, any time, any place, any year, any day. You will follow it to your final hour, you will fade away with the summer mayflower."
"Beautiful." The Doctor murmured, stroking his thumb across the bridge of her nose.
"Beautifully tragic." The Grunge growled. "The process is complete. She is gone."
But she didn't go. The Doctor was thinking.
You will follow it to your final hour, you will fade away with the summer mayflower.
You will fade away with the summer mayflower.
Mayflower.
May.
He remembered.