Been waiting for action? Here it is!

He wasn't supposed be off the fifth floor without a grownup but it was Macy's birthday soon and he wanted to get her something from the gift shop with the money his mother had given him, but none of the doctors or nurses would take him down. Dr. Smith had come by earlier to tell him he didn't have anything new for today but hadn't stuck around long enough for Elliot to ask him. So he had to go himself.

He waited near the elevators until the coast was clear then called one up and rode down to the first floor. As he was following the signs down the halls, he tried his best not to look like he knew where he was doing. The minute he looked lost or confused was when the grownups would swoop in to "help" him. He learned that a long time ago. People passed him in the hall, sometimes with healthy kids. Those kids would stare at him and his scrawny body and pale skin and hairless head with curiosity and pity. He hated that.

When he was nearing the food court, he noticed a blonde woman standing outside a door, looking through the glass. He couldn't see all of her face but he was struck by familiarity. He knew her, he realized, but how? She didn't look like a doctor or a nurse or anyone that would be on his floor regularly. As he tried to work out where he knew her from, her face crumpled in pain, her purse slipped from her fingers, and she turned and ran in the opposite direction of Elliot.

He blinked. That wasn't right. Women never just dropped their purses. Never, never, ever. They were like extensions of their bodies or something. Like guys and their Stetsons. Those kinds of things never got left behind. She'd probably be missing her purse later. He wasn't supposed to take things that didn't belong to him but there was no way it'd still be there when she came back. If he took it with him, though, she wouldn't know where to find it.

He bit his lip. He'd passed a help desk back around the corner. He could take it there so the grownups to get it back to her. But if he did that, they'd probably call someone to take him back upstairs and then he'd get in big trouble… Or maybe he could write a quick note and run before they stopped him. Yeah, he could do that.

Before anyone could beat him to it, he zipped forward, scooped up the brown bag, and headed for the clinic.

He didn't notice anything out of the ordinary at first, but then he became aware of a quiet whispering. Elliot frowned and glanced around but there was no one around. The whispering continued, rising in volume, and he felt a fluttering against the base of his skull, like something brushing their fingers across the inside.

I'm here … I'm trapped in here…I'm kept inside the cogs…

It was coming from the purse.

Elliot glanced around quickly and slipped into a small alcove. He unzipped the purse and rummaged around for whatever could be talking. His fingers brushed warm metal then around it and he pulled out— a pocket watch?

Elliot…

He dropped the bag and held the watch with both hands, studying it, then flipped it over. He nearly dropped it as well. No. Freaking. Way.

It was the watch. The one he'd drawn over a week ago, the day Dr. Smith read him that broken story. It was the only thing that appeared in his head. He hadn't shown Dr. Smith, though. He'd been afraid to for some reason. And here it was, in his hands, the pocket watch. Somehow…it was real.

Elliot swallowed, his fingers moved to the clasp of their own accord, flipping it open.

NO! The watch roared. Hide me, little boy. Keep me hidden…

Elliot shut the watch and stuffed it in his pocket. He picked up the purse, zipped it shut, and ran.

Ten minutes later, Elliot sat alone in the ward with the watch in his hands. He'd forgotten to get Macy's present before coming back. It didn't really matter right now. Not when he was holding the watch from John's story and it was whispering impossible things to him.

Alone…trapped… Time Lord… Rose?

This had to be some kind of trick. Someone was messing with him. Devin? Nah, Devin wouldn't go this far just to pick on him. He didn't have the brains for this kind of thing, anyway. But this wasn't real. It couldn't be real. This was something out of Dr. Smith's dreams! He couldn't have set this up though, could he? He could've, though. He was a grownup; he could do whatever he wanted. But he wouldn't do this…would he?

Rose? the watch whispered again.

I'm not Rose, Elliot thought angrily. Rose isn't real. And this isn't funny.

The watch was silent.

He felt the tiny little fingers brushing the back of his head again and he shook his head to dislodge them. It didn't work. Elliot scowled at the watch. It had gotten angry when he opened it earlier. He fingered the clasp for a few seconds and then opened the watch once again.

Golden light flared from the watch, the whispering intensified and became not just one voice, but dozens overlapping, with a familiar one louder than the west. A dozen scenes came with it, things that he'd only had glimpses of before, now dancing around before him in colors so brilliant and sharp they couldn't possibly have been seen with humans eyes. Daleks, Cybermen, a werewolf, and things he had never seen; alien worlds; the faces of humans, some he could name, some he couldn't. Then there was laughter, warm and delighted that brought with it a powerful emotion Elliot had never felt before, sharp and as painful as it was wonderful and warm, and he saw her.

Rose laughing. Rose sipping from a mug. Rose sleeping. Rose dancing beneath the moonlight. Rose shining as the Bad Wolf. Rose wearing a brown pinstriped jacket. Rose Rose Rose Rose—

You must keep me hidden Elliot!

Elliot slammed the watch shut with a loud gasp. The images ceased, the voices died away. Once more he was surrounded by the din of the hospital, the steady beeping of nearby machines, and the hum of hundreds of voices and their lives brushing up against the edges of his mojo.

He drew in a deep, shuddering breath, and stared down at the watch in his hands.

It's real…all of that was real. Is it all real? Are all the dreams real?

No response.

Who are you?! …The Doctor? Are you the Doctor? Why are you in there?

The watch didn't answer him except for the faintest of whispers and brushes against the inside of his head, which he now realized were in his mind. Just like when his mojo showed him things.

What am I supposed to do? He very nearly screamed the words aloud.

Keep me hidden… it whispered. Keep…safe. Don't open…again.

Elliot kept the watch in his pocket when he went to lunch. He ate in silence surrounded by those he lived with but feeling more separate than ever. The watch was whispering rather loudly but no one glanced his way or even so much as twitched. He may be mute, but they were deaf and blind.

After lunch he returned to his bed to collect his sketchpad and pencil case then headed with the others to the playroom. He sat at his usual table and opened the sketchpad to a new page. The watch had shown him so many things and he was itching to draw them. If this really was all true then he needed to somehow let Dr. Smith know. Maybe Dr. Smith was like him, able to see parts of other people's lives without meaning to.

The Doctor was in trouble. Elliot was sure of it. Maybe he'd gone after Rose when she hadn't come back and had, somehow, gotten trapped inside. Elliot was a dying, voiceless child. No one would listen to him. But John Smith was alive and healthy and doctor. Maybe that was why the Doctor had reached out to him for help. But he hadn't understood so he was trying to reach him through Elliot. That had to be it.

He licked his lips, trying to decide what would be best to get Dr. Smith's attention with. It had to be something important but it couldn't be something completely new or he wouldn't recognize it.

Elliot paused when one image came to mind. Flipping back through the pages, he came to the one of the faceless black woman. It was her! And she had a face! There was still no name but she had a face! He pulled a pencil out of his bag and immediately started to add in the details he'd long sought after. It didn't take much time to finish drawing, erase the mistakes, and fill in the shadows. Smiling, he leaned back to survey the (finally) finished product. Oh yes. This was her. This was definitely her.

Abruptly, the smile melted into a frown as he realized why she looked familiar.

This is… No, no it… that ain't possible.

It looked like Miss James.

Where was she? He looked around the room. Not here, not yet. She didn't usually show up until the end of playtime on the days she came at all. Where would she be now? Lunch, maybe? But did she eat in the cafeteria or somewhere else? Leaving the floor twice in the same day was risky business, but he had to see her. He needed to compare the drawing with her face and, if they matched, get an explanation from her.

He gathered up his pencils, zipped the pouch, and shut his sketchbook, tucking them both under his arm. Glancing around the room to make sure no one was watching him—being ignored could be a good thing sometimes—then he headed for the door. He looked back one last time then slipped out of the room and headed to the left.

If Miss James really was the woman in the picture then that meant she was a companion of the Doctor. Maybe that blonde woman earlier stole the watch—or maybe she was the one that trapped him in there to begin with—and Miss James was here to find it. Ooh, he should give it to her when he found her.

But wait—that blonde woman, it could've been Rose!

But, but, the dream said he was alone and Rose wasn't with him. The watch knew he was here, even knew his name. If Rose had the watch then he'd know it.

Miss James must be looking for her, too. If he showed her the pictures he had of Rose then she'd know he could help her and she could help him convince Dr. Smith what was happening. She was his student and his friend, after all.

Does she know the Doctor's trying to reach Dr. Smith? he wondered. It was possible.

So focused on his thoughts about Miss James and the Doctor, he didn't see the familiar doctor standing in front of him until he walked into his legs. Elliot jerked back sharply, dropping his pencil case in surprise, and only managed to catch his sketchpad. He looked up.

"Whoa there! What are you doing out here, Elliot?" Dr. Smith knelt down to pick up the pencil case.

Elliot grinned. Now was his chance to show him the drawing and then he could help him find Miss James!

Dr. Smith handed him the case—

The whispering from the watch roared like never before and images of the Doctor flashed through his mind. Tall, brown hair, brown eyes, and a brown pinstriped suit. He scowled. He roared. He laughed. He smiled. He walked forward with the sonic screwdriver pointed ahead—

With a loud gasp, Elliot recoiled, snatching the pencil case from him. He trembled from head to toe and stared up at Dr. Smith—no.

"Elliot are you alright?" he asked in concern, reaching out.

Elliot skittered away from his reaching hand and ran. He ran like he'd never run before. For the first time since he'd met Dr. Smith and heard his stories, he was afraid. If he had a voice he would've screamed. One or two people looked like they wanted to stop him and someone shouted that he shouldn't run, but everyone else got out of his way. His lungs, not the strongest things to begin with, burned from exhaustion. He hadn't run this much in a single day since before he'd come back to the hospital.

He didn't go back to the playroom; he went straight to the ward and crawled under his bed. He lay underneath there, chest heaving and muscles aching, and stared at the floor. His mind was absolutely racing. Who was that? Where was Dr. Smith? Was Dr. Smith even real? What about the Doctor?

What in the heck is going on?!

He put his hands over his face and exhaled loudly.

Okay, calm down, dummy, he thought. Obviously you got something wrong. Think.

He had a pocket watch in his pocket that had the Doctor trapped in it somehow. The Doctor didn't want him to open the watch.

Dr. Smith was a human who had dreams about the Doctor. (Or did he?) He was a pediatrician. They didn't just let anyone be one. He started working at the hospital two months ago. He liked Dr. Lewis a lot and she liked him, too.

Oh no, was she in on it, too?! No way. She was too sweet and she'd been here way longer than even Elliot. Maybe she doesn't know? Aw man and he'd helped get them together.

He hadn't seen Rose anywhere so he had to assume she wasn't here.

Miss James may or may not actually be a companion of the Doctor's. He didn't know why she was here but he hoped it was to help the Doctor. She was around Dr. Smith a lot so either he didn't know who she was or she was actually helping him. But he didn't think she was bad. His mojo didn't send anything bad about her.

But…hadn't his mojo warned him about Dr. Smith in its own way? Everything he picked up on from him was blurred, distorted, and murky. Wrong. No one else was like that.

What if—what if Dr. Smith stole the Doctor's body? Hadn't he said in the dream that something was chasing him? What if he was one of those? No, no that wouldn't make sense. For one, Dr. Smith wouldn't have told him about it if he were a bad guy. And now that Elliot thought about it, he was sure the Doctor had done something with a watch to protect himself from the bad guys. He must've hidden himself in there. But what about his body?

If that was really the Doctor's body out there then who was in it? Who was Dr. Smith?

He heard footsteps against the tiles entering the room and he held his breath, turning his head to look.

"Elliot?" Dr. Jasmine Oikawa, his own pediatrician, called.

If he came out then she'd ask him about Dr. Smith. But if he stayed hidden they'd keep on looking for him and he'd be in big trouble later. A little trouble now or a lot of trouble later?

He sighed, pulled the watch from his pocket and set it on his sketchpad, then crawled out from underneath his bed. She was starting to leave by the time he poked his head up. He clapped his hands together to get her attention. Dr. Oikawa sighed in relief when she saw him staring back at her. She walked over to him as he climbed onto his bed. She sat down next to him.

"Are you alright?"

Elliot didn't respond. He wouldn't until he saw a good enough reason to. He'd discovered this was the best way to get adults to get to the point quickly.

"John Smith says he found you in the hall and you ran away from him for no reason. Were you doing something you weren't supposed to?"

Say yes, the watch whispered clearly from under the bed.

Elliot nodded slowly.

"What were you doing?"

The watch was silent. Elliot bit the inside of his lip. Great. Now what?

"Okay, you don't want to tell me. I understand. John?" Dr. Oikawa called.

Dr. Smith stepped in the room. Elliot blinked in a mixture of surprise and horror. Had he been here the whole time? Dr. Oikawa went to meet him in the center of the room and Elliot wanted to tell her not to go. To not leave him alone in the room with Dr. Smith whom he wasn't sure he trusted entirely. She left and he approached him cautiously, like he was afraid Elliot would bolt at any second. He had half a mind to but that would only make this worse.

Instead of sitting down on Elliot's bed, he sat down on the one next to his. Elliot studied his feet intently. "You scared me back there," he said after a moment. "I thought I'd hurt you."

Elliot shook his head.

"What were you up to, then? You can tell me, you know. I'm your friend."

Are you? Are you really?

When Elliot didn't move, John reached over to Elliot's nightstand and picked up his notepad and a pen. He held them out to him. Elliot hesitated. Would it happen again if he didn't have the watch on him? He took them gingerly, waiting for the onslaught that never came.

Sighing in relief, Elliot flipped open his notepad to any empty page and thought for a second. What could his excuse be for being where he wasn't supposed to? Oh! Duh!

It's Macy's birthday soon. I wanted to buy her something from the gift shop.

Dr. Smith read the note then smiled. "Oh, is that all? Elliot, you could've told me. I would've taken you down there."

He grinned sheepishly.

"I've got a minute. Shall we go now?"

It would look suspicious if he refused the offer. He didn't really want to go anywhere with Dr. Smith until he solved this whole mystery but he wouldn't get another chance at his. So he ducked under his bed to retrieve the wad of dollars his mom had given him the other day. He started to pick the watch up but hesitated. If he took it with him he might get more images. But did he really want to just leave it alone? No. For whatever reason, the Doctor had spoken to him and was counting on him to hide him. So he stuffed the watch into his pocket along with the money and followed Dr. Smith down to the first floor.

Later that night when all the other children were sound asleep, Elliot slipped out of bed and pulled the small flashlight from his drawer. He crawled underneath his bed, switched it on, and opened his sketchbook. The pictures had been plaguing him for hours. He had to draw all of them or they'd never leave him alone.

He drew the Doctor. As he worked, he realized that the face of Dr. Smith wasn't the only one. There were nine others: old men, middle-aged men, and one man younger than the others; long hair, short hair, dark and light. No red hair, though. No one face was more real than any of the others. Didn't Dr. Smith mention something about multiple lives…? That would make this one the Tenth. The oldest so far even though he looked like one of the youngest.

He drew a large planet with as much orange on the surface as there was blue on Earth. Gallifrey, the watch whispered. The Doctor's home planet. Gone, now, Elliot knew from the stories. He drew a nebula in deep space called the Medusa Cascade. The watch didn't tell anything about it, including the name, but Elliot knew without a doubt that it was right.

He drew the Doctor's beautiful blue ship. The TARDIS, she was called. He drew the faces he'd seen of people who'd been on the TARDIS at some point. He could even name some of them. Susan. Jamie. Mel. Adric. Sarah Jane. He devoted an entire page to aliens he couldn't name and several he could.

He drew a beach at night with sand that glimmered and sparkled. The TARDIS rested in the sand. A few feet away next to a dying fire, the Doctor and Rose lay together on a blanket, staring at the stars.

He drew Rose. He drew Rose a lot. Rose laughing with an ice cream cone in her hand. Rose holding a mug of tea. Rose sleeping under a pink bedspread. Rose dancing beneath the moonlight in a silver dress that flowed around her ankles. Rose wearing the one of the old Doctor's jackets, a leather one that was way too big for her. Rose with tears on her cheeks.

He was at it for hours. Exhaustion tugged at his body and his fingers ached from gripping a pencil for so long. At some point he fell asleep because he noticed there was drool on the paper. But he didn't care. He was on a roll.

Across town, John dreamed of a blonde woman. He didn't know if it was Violet or Rose. He didn't care. She was running and he was following.

Several blocks away in her room, Martha was sound asleep, snoring softly.

In the next room over, Rose was working with the scanner she'd acquired from the TARDIS earlier to trace artron energy. She didn't really know how to work it any it'd taken time for her to understand how the standard mode functioned. For the last half an hour she sat on her bed with a notebook propped on her leg and a pen in hand, trying to make sense of the readings. There seemed to be five sources of artron in this town. The largest was, of course, the TARDIS. Two of them were roughly the same size—herself and John, she wagered, since one result was listed as not even a meter away from the scanner—and the slightly smaller source was close enough that it had to be Martha. The fifth and final one was the smallest—the watch, obviously—and if she did her math right, it was still in the hospital.

She double-checked her work. She used her super phone to triple check.

The watch hadn't left the hospital. Which meant the kid who took it was still there. He must've been a patient. Rose smiled in relief. She'd be getting the Doctor back soon enough. Satisfied, she switched off the scanner, set it aside with her notebook, and crawled under the covers.

If she'd left the scanner on for just a few moments longer, she would've seen it register a new source of artron.

Neither she, Martha, John, nor Elliot noticed the green light flashing periodically over Bridgeton. Nor did they notice when something like a meteorite streaked across the sky and landed in the largest park. It was so late at night that no one noticed, in fact, except for a few drunks, one man who was so high he wouldn't think it was real in the morning, and a homeless man named Marc, who was walking near the Walton Park when it landed.

At first, Marc thought he was seeing things. But he hadn't done nothing or drank nothing for weeks now and he wasn't that tired. Which meant either someone was punking around…or another alien space ship had just landed in his town. Bridgeton was suddenly an E.T. hotspot and he wasn't sure he liked that. He was surprised the government hadn't already swooped in to capture the blue box and its passengers.

Common sense said he should just keep walking. He didn't know for a fact that these were friends of Martha and Rose. They could be. Or they could be enemies. Not all aliens were good, after all. They could be completely unrelated to Rose and Martha and not even the same species.

Marc glanced at the payphone at the corner. He wished he had a way to call 'em. Did aliens even have cell phones? But he couldn't just do nothing! He started towards the payphone. He'd promised he wouldn't mention them and their box but they never said anything about other aliens.

He picked up the payphone and dialed 911. Maybe someone else had already reported it—he can't have been the only person who saw that thing—someone who could back him up. It rang once then some lady answered.

"Hey, yeah, listen, I swear I'm not drunk or high or nothin', but I just seen a UFO land in the middle of Walton."

"A UFO," the operator repeated flatly. "Sir—"

"I'm serious. It was bright green and it flew right over my head then landed in the park! C'mon, I can't be the only one that seen it! You gotta get somebody!"

"Sir, have you been drinking this evening?"

"I told you I ain't drunk or high or nothin'!" he shouted in exasperation. "And this ain't a joke, either!"

"If it makes you feel better, sir, I can send a squad car to check it out."

"A squad car?! Lady, you need to call the goddamn feds!"

She didn't believe him. God dammit. "What's your name…or would you rather your tip be anonymous?"

"Nah, I'll tell you my name. Name's Marc. And if the aliens turn out to be homicidal, ready to take over the damn planet, you just remember Marc warned ya and ya didn't listen!" With that he slammed the phone onto the hook and stormed away with his hands stuffed in his pockets.

He should go back to his alley and hide behind the box until Rose or Martha showed up so they could deal with it. He should. But those cops the lady was sending—if she even was—would be going in expecting punk kids or some shit. Not aliens. Marc's hand curled around the switchblade in his pocket and he looked at the park. Maybe if he got a look at the ship or the aliens it could help his aliens out. It was a bad idea, he damn well knew it, but better he went in than them. One human wouldn't make a blip on their radar like two aliens would. He nodded to himself then jogged across the street and into the park.

He would never come out again.

The next morning after breakfast while all of the kids were together in the ward, Elliot sat alone on his bed with the sketchpad in his lap, doodling aimlessly and trying to stay awake. The clock on the wall read 2am by the time he'd crawled back into bed last night and his tiny body, already weakened from leukemia, was struggling with just six hours of rest. He was going in for treatments later today so hopefully he could sleep afterwards.

His eyes flicked down to the paper and he noted without much surprise he was drawing the figure of a woman facing away from him. Rose, probably. The hair was wrong for it to be Miss James.

Rose was woven inextricably with every memory, every emotion that came from the watch. A girl whose future once looked as bleak as his in its own way saved the world and ran away to a life of stars and freedom. No one could make her stay if she didn't want to. She made herself heard no matter what. He envied her.

Miss James he wanted to know more about. Why was she with the Doctor and Rose? What had she done since then? How many people had she saved? Where was her family? Was she really a student doctor or was it just a disguise? Would she believe he wanted to help her?

He added her next to Rose in the picture. He imagined they were staring at something ahead of them, something horrible. And they were on their own, just the two of them, because the Doctor was trapped somewhere and there was no one to help them. They were going to save the world by themselves. The whispering from the watch, hidden under is bed next to Macy's birthday present, intensified as the scene formed in his mind. Surrounding him. Pulling him into—

Rose and Miss James—Martha, her name was Martha—stood together on grass, staring in horror at a city under attack, smoke rising from the homes and buildings, the trees around them beginning to burn. From high above, millions of flying metal balls swarmed, shooting at everything, laughing with glee as people screamed in pain in panic.

Rose had on a blue leather jacket, shorter than the red on Martha wore, and gripped something small and black in her hands tightly.

"We have to go." Rose said urgently. "We have to go now. "

"But we're coming back." Martha vowed.

They turned to run—

—and Elliot was jerk back into the present with a startled gasp. He fell sideways off the bed and hit the floor with a loud smack. He whimpered in pain and laid there for a moment, stunned, gasping for air.

"You okay?!" One of the other boys, Ramon, asked. He stood over him, eyes wide with concern. Elliot took a deep breath and nodded. He pushed himself up, wincing, and Ramon grabbed his arm to help him.

Elliot exhaled loudly and sat down on his bed, rubbing his arm where he'd fell on it.

"Do you need me to get a nurse?" Ramon asked. Elliot shook his head. "Okay. Don't sit so close to the edge next time."

Ramon went back to his friends and Elliot scooted further onto his bed. Why had he even fallen? He glanced down at the sketchpad. Blinked. Looked again.

No way.

It was the scene from his mind. Everything from Rose's jacket to the countless murderous balls in the sky. There was no way he'd… that was impossible. He looked at the clock. Not even two minutes had passed since he last checked. So how in the heck had he drawn that much in that amount of detail within seconds?

He pulled his legs close and propped the sketchpad up on them. This hadn't been like the other ones. It didn't feel like a memory. It felt like a warning.

The doors to the ward opened but Elliot didn't look away from the page until he recognized the voice calling for attention.

It was Miss James!

His head snapped up. Finally! Now he could give her the watch and she could help him and…and… She wasn't alone. There was someone with her. Someone slightly taller than her. Someone blonde. Someone who made the watch underneath his bed cry out in delight and a surge of emotions that caused Elliot's body to tremble to flow from it.

"Quiet everyone," Martha called and clapped her hands for silence. All the other kids got quiet and looked at the women in surprise. "Thank you. This is my friend, Marion. She works here at the hospital."

"Hi!" The newest girl chirped, waving her tiny hand. Rose Tyler smiled at her.

She was…she was here. Right in front of him. Dress pants and a nice shirt, hair pinned back, makeup light and professional. Not like herself at all. But even though towered over all the children she didn't seem intimidating. Her smile was warm and kind and he knew without his mojo telling him so that he could trust her.

"Hello," Rose replied and knelt down in front of her. "What's your name?"

"Alexis."

"Are you from London?" asked one of the boys. "Because you sound like Miss James and Dr. Smith but kinda diferent, too."

"I am a Londoner," Rose answered, straightening up. "But I'm from a different part of London. It's a really, really big city, and people sound different if they come from different places. I'm from the East End and almost everyone there talks like this."

"Sounds funny," piped the red-haired girl, Bianca, in her thick southern drawl.

"Sounds funny," Rose mimicked. "Well, this sounds funny to me."

A few of the kids laughed.

"Listen, everyone, I've got a problem. I dropped my purse yesterday in the hall on the first floor and—"

"Do you need help finding it?" Devin asked sweetly. "I'm good at finding things."

"Yeah, especially when you're one that took 'em." One of the other kids retorted. Devin shot him a glare and Elliot smirked.

"No, no, I've got my purse back. It was turned it in to the desk but something was missing from it. A pocket watch. It's round, brass, with a latch at the top and on the front it has a bunch of weird circles and lines. I asked the man who was there at the time and he told me it was a little boy, a patient."

Elliot looked down at his sketchbook and felt his cheeks grow hot. The purse had been Rose's. He'd stolen from Rose! No, it was worse than that. He'd taken the Doctor from Rose. The watch was still thrumming with emotion and whispering her name over and over. But… but the Doctor had gotten his attention first. Elliot wouldn't have known about the watch if it hadn't spoken to him. So why was it suddenly excited to be rescued?

"I promise I won't be mad at you," Rose told them. "But if anyone's seen the watch, or if you know who has it, I need to know. It's very, very important to me and it's all I have left of the man I love. I need it back."

Elliot raised his head just enough to see the other kids. They were looking at each other expectantly but no one even glanced his way.

"Elliot went downstairs yesterday." Devin blurted out suddenly. "He snuck off on his own. I saw him."

Elliot glared at him and Devin grinned nastily. Well, looked like he was finally getting back at him for blacking his eye. And, great, now Rose was coming towards him. He swallowed and shut his sketchpad. Underneath his bed, the watch quieted. Waiting. Oh, now it was quiet? Elliot would've thought it'd be screaming with her so close. The Doctor wanted to go back to her, didn't he?

Rose was standing not even two feet from him and there was so much he wanted to tell her, to show her, but he knew she wouldn't want to hear any of it once she'd found out what he'd done. "Well?" she asked.

Elliot said nothing.

"He doesn't talk," Martha told her quietly.

Understanding dawned on Rose's face. "Oh. Martha's mentioned you before. She… her friend Smith reads to you, doesn't he?"

Elliot nodded.

Rose lowered her voice. "Did you take my watch, Elliot?"

No, Elliot. It's not safe anymore. Keep me hidden. Don't tell her.

He swallowed. That didn't make sense but if the Doctor was passing up the chance to be with Rose again then it had to be for a good reason. Elliot shook his head but couldn't help but wonder if he hadn't just made things worse for himself. Because he'd have to give the watch back at some point and she would be furious at him for not returning it now. She was terrified without the watch. He could sense it.

He reached for his notebook, pulled a pen his pencil case, flipped to an empty page and wrote quickly. I did find a purse and turn it in. It was on the floor just around the corner from the desk I took it to.

"But you didn't take the watch?" Rose asked, almost desperately. He almost changed his mind right then and there but the watch, sensing this, repeated its warning.

I am so, so, so, so sorry, Rose, he thought as he shook his head.

She closed her eyes and sighed, misery pouring from her in waves. Acting on impulse, he opened his sketchpad and tore out a drawing of a golden wolf from last night, handing it to her. Rose opened her eyes and stared at the drawing in surprise. She looked like she wanted to ask him something but decided against it. She smiled, carefully folding the piece of paper, and tucked it in her pocket.

"Thank you."

He watched her leave with Miss James and sighed. What had he done?

Did I lose anyone back there? Hope not.

976 reviews?! H-h-h-holy shit.*grabs paper bag*