"The Benevolent Doctor"

9. A Helping Hand

March 2012 – Lima, Ohio

To say that Gemma was nervous as she walked up to the house was not even scratching the surface. She knew it was the right move, but after what had happened not that long ago, it really felt like they might have been imposing on the girl.

She rang the bell, and a few seconds later, a blond woman opened the door. "Yes?"

"Mrs. Fabray?" Gemma asked, and when the woman nodded, she let out a breath. Here goes nothing. "My name is Ginny Harrison, I…" Judy Fabray had gasped. Of course, she would have heard the name, and not just from her time spent as a substitute teacher at her daughter's school.

"Oh, it's you, I… I've been trying to reach you, but I couldn't… Please, come in," she stepped aside, and Gemma walked in. As soon as the door had been shut, Judy had reached out and pulled the younger woman into her arms. "I don't know what would have happened if you hadn't been there."

"I only called for help, I…" Gemma hesitated before closing the hug around her.

"But if you hadn't done it, who knows how long it would have been before someone found her there," Judy Fabray wouldn't let her off the hook from being properly thanked.

"I don't want to impose, but I was wondering if I might be able to talk with Quinn. I know she was discharged from the hospital…"

"We might have stayed, but the doctor insisted I could take her home. I'll still have to take her in every so often, but she will recover faster from home," the woman nodded confidently, before leading the substitute teacher over to the guest room which, being on the first floor, had been rearranged to act as Quinn's bedroom. It would be some time before they could see into a more permanent change, and it was made clear to Gemma just by looking at the room that the blond girl did not want anything looking permanent: she was aiming to get her room back, one way or the other.

Maybe Judy's home care recovery theory wasn't so far-fetched. The girl Gemma found sitting up on her bed looked a lot better than what she remembered from the crash. She was reading what looked to be a textbook and had some notebooks on the rolling table slid in front of her.

"Quinn, sweetheart, you have a visitor." When she looked up, her eyes quickly travelled to the substitute. She knew her face well enough, and now knowing her as the first responder who had been by her side after her accident, she put her textbook down. The entire scene wasn't unlike her visit to a young Artie Abrams, and that similarity was not lost on her.

"Hi," she cleared her throat.

"I should check on dinner," Judy looked back over her shoulder. "You'll eat with us? I insist."

"I… Sure," she nodded. Judy smiled and left the room. Gemma went and sat by Quinn's bedside. "How are you feeling?"

"Less and less like I ran headlong into a brick wall, although…" she looked down at herself, her legs, unmoving before her. "It's not a scraped knee, so I guess I can't expect to get better in a day. But I will be better."

"I don't doubt it for a second," Gemma smiled. "Listen, there's something I need to tell you about that day, when you had your accident. But I should probably precede this with a few other things. One of those is that I'm not a substitute teacher. Another is that my name is not Ginny Harrison, it's Gemma Lucas. And the third is that I know a second before that truck hit your car, you were not in your car, or in the year two thousand and twelve for that matter."

Quinn stared at her, and Gemma could see her tensing up, apprehensively. Only days ago, she had been with the Doctor, it was all fresh in her memories, which made it no wonder that she would be this guarded.

"I don't know what you…"

"You were with the Doctor, on the TARDIS, I know," Gemma went on.

"Alright…" Quinn spoke slowly. "So maybe you're really not a teacher. But why should I trust you or believe anything you say, about… about him."

"The one you met, that would have been the Eleventh," Gemma nodded to herself. "Tall, sort of… giraffe like, wore a bow tie," she touched to her throat. "Talked a lot with his hands that one, like he couldn't stand still, could he?" Gemma asked, not only mimicking the motion of his hands but the tone of his voice as well. Quinn stared at her, halfway between amused and dumbstruck.

"That's… uncanny," she admitted.

"I do what I can," Gemma shrugged. "Quinn, listen now, because I have no idea when your mother will come again, and there's a reason I waited until she left to speak to you," she gave a pointed look. "The Doctor sent me to look after you."

"How do I know you're telling the truth? You could be after him, trying to get at him through me," she frowned, and Gemma smiled to herself. Whatever time they'd spent together, Quinn and the Doctor, he had already instilled that attachment that turned to protectiveness in his companions; Gemma knew exactly where she was coming from.

"I guess you're going to have to decide that for yourself." Quinn stared at her for a while, pondering, but it didn't take long for Gemma to see the mistrust melt away from her.

"So… he found out about what happened to me, did he?"

"You could say that," Gemma briefly averted her eyes at this.

"What's that supposed to mean?" Quinn didn't miss it.

"Well, that means that it wasn't coincidence I was on the side of that road when the collision happened. I was sent to stand there and wait for it to happen, so I could call in for help," she revealed. Quinn listened to this, and Gemma could see her working it all out in her head.

"Sent… by the Doctor?" she asked, and Gemma nodded. "But that would mean he knew it would happen and didn't stop it. That thing, the manipulator… Did it show it to…" Gemma shook her head, stopping her.

"You misunderstand. The Doctor knew what would happen when he sent you back."

TO BE CONTINUED (FRIDAY)