[DISCONTINUED] Hazel Eyes - DW Fanfic

Chapter Ten - Truth in Green

Author's Note - Omg, guys! Just wow! No, wow doesn't even cover this! When I posted last chapter I didn't even have 500 reads and now I have over 600! You guys are so amazing and I love you all so much! Thank you for commenting and voting and all that! I'm still in like awe! And I've just used way too many exclamation points... whatever, lol. I have to say it again, you guys are super amazing! I won't keep you up further though, read on.

The next morning the Doctor found himself in front of the grand doors to Ayaria’s room. He slowly pushed open the door. It was quiet. He didn’t see Ayaria. Was she still sleeping? His gaze lingered on the spiral staircase. Would she mind if he came up and woke her up? There were no secrets now.

He walked over to the staircase, resting his hand on the metal banister. He did like spiral staircases. They were much more interesting than the normal kind. With a step he began his ascent.

As the room came into view the Doctor made out another circular room, a good amount smaller than the room below. The walls were a cream that faded to a dark blue as it went upward to form the arched ceiling. Over a hundred little light bulbs hung on silver strands from the ceiling at various heights. They were dimmed at the moment. Taking up almost all of the room was a large four-poster bed draped with silver curtains. Next to it was a little night stand. Stacked on the night stand and in piles around the bed were books. To the left was a large wardrobe, undoubtedly bigger on the inside. Out of the corner of his eye he saw some photographs on the far wall. 

Among the piles of pillows and blankets Ayaria was nestled in. He saw she was wearing a light colored tank top. The Doctor drew a little closer. He frowned. Her face was screwed up into one of pain. Bad dream maybe. She looked fourteen, he decided. His eyes traced the lines of her face down to the hollow of her neck and across her shoulder. He noticed the pink scars on her wrist. Overlapping scars all at different points of fading. Tightly grasped in her hand was he saw a bit of tan leather. He leaned a little closer. It was more than a small piece actually. Tucked in under the blankets except for the corner she clutched was an old tan trench coat.

The Doctor’s breath caught in his throat. What? She said she didn’t remember anything. And even if she did she wouldn’t know anything after the Bad Wolf incident. He looked up and that’s when he saw the photos. There were more of them than he had originally thought. Each photo was in a thin black frame and they made a collage on the wall. All over the photos were green sticky notes, like the one he had found on the monitor. He walked around the bed to examine them more closely.

They weren’t photos of herself or Jack. They were mostly photos of places. An old photo of the London Blitz. Posted on it was a sticky note saying two short sentences: Everybody lives! Just this once, everybody lives! A photo of Satellite Five. A photo of Henrik’s department store with another sticky note saying: Run. And then there are others. Things she shouldn’t have known about even if she did remember. New Earth had two sticky notes. The first read: It's the city of New New York. Strictly speaking, it's the fifteenth New York since the original. The second said: New new Doctor. There was a real old style photo of a little shop named Magpie’s Electronics. In all there were over fifty photos. All of different places and such that they -- that he and Rose, he mentally corrected himself -- had visited. Many with sticky notes, written in Rose's handwriting, were things he'd said. Things they once laughed about.

She shouldn’t know about this. Any of this. How did she know? His eyes flicked back to the girl, still sleeping. A small white medicine bottle on the night stand caught his attention. He walked over on quiet feet and popped off the top. He held it up to his nose and sniffed. He recognized a couple of the scents. Enough to know their purpose, they were sleeping pills. But if she was taking sleeping pills she shouldn’t be dreaming? And why would she need sleeping pills? He’d traveled with quite a few people over the years, none of them had ever slept as much as Rose. Her first night in the Tardis she had slept for ten hours. He’d worried she’d fallen into some kind of coma or something. He remembers not being able to hold back a uncharacteristic, relieved smile when she emerged from the bedroom hours later.

The Doctor sighed. So she had lied. Lied about something. She certainly remembered a good deal more than she let on. Things she wouldn’t know about even if any part of her backstory was true.
There was only one decision to make now. Does the Doctor leave and try to forget all this or does he stay and talk to her? It was tempting to just leave and try to convince himself this never happened, that it was a dream. Except the Doctor didn’t dream much anymore. It’s hard to dream when you barely sleep.

He wasn’t running away from her again.

He looked again towards the sleeping girl. But maybe it wasn’t such a great idea to wake her up. If he woke her up she would instantly know she had seen the photos. That he knew she had lied. If she had lied, there could be some other explanation. He hoped. Besides, if she was on the pills he wouldn’t be able to wake her up too easily.

The Doctor slowly went back down the down the stairs. He could make her breakfast and hopefully she’d be up by the time it was done. Or at least before it got cold. They could talk over breakfast. He was sure he'd think of some way to ask her about it. The Doctor went over to the little kitchen and began to pull out things.

He brought out eggs and flour. When he took out the milk he gave it a little sniff. Did it really taste that different? He shrugged. He’s so used to this milk he probably couldn’t tell. He brought out a mixing bowl and a frying pan and began to make some pancakes.

He was in the middle of trying to flip a pancake when he heard loud thudding on the steps behind him. The Doctor spun around and the pancake fell into the burner. He cursed as the Tardis mentally swatted him. He scrambled for the fire hydrant that was attached to the side of the counter. He could swear it hadn’t been there when he had first seen this room. The Tardis must have known he had breakfast in mind. Pulling out the pin he quickly covered the stove, and the pancakes, with foam. He turned around again, a sheepish smile on his face to see Ayaria (who was still in her pajamas and hadn’t even brushed her hair yet) fixing him with a grumpy glare.

“What are you doing here?” She asked obviously not too pleased to see him.

“I thought I would make you breakfast.” The Doctor said with a glance towards the ruined plate of pancakes.

She eyed the pancakes as well. “You know I can make my own breakfast.”

“I thought it would be nice…” he trailed off.

She raised an eyebrow. “Go on to the console room. I’ll grab some yogurt and meet you there in a couple minutes when I’ve gotten dressed.”

Okay.” The Doctor agreed leaving with a backwards glance towards her and the messy kitchen. 

She never did show up at the console room.