Fight or Flight ( Doctor Who Fanfiction )

Victory of the Daleks

Our flight into the past took less than a minute, but the Doctor drew it out so Amy could run to the wardrobe and change. Idly, I clicked through my at my phone while the Doctor fiddled with the controls.

Cautiously, he spoke. He kept checking behind him when he spoke, mindful that Amy could round the corner at any moment.

"What happened to your hands?"

I looked up and blinked at him, deadpan.

"My parachute didn't open."

"Really?"

I raised my eyebrows back at my phone and he huffed, "You're teasing me."

He came around the console and leaned back against it, facing me. I looked up slowly.

He was gazing at me unabashedly, looking quite lost in thought.

"Who are you, Omara?"

I lowered my phone by about an inch. What a strange question.

"You first."

"Hm," he hummed, crossing his arms and continuing to watch me.

Where Amelia had a rich history with the Doctor, the two of us were essentially strangers. I'd met him once, sure, but then I'd all but forgotten him over the next decade and a half - I had considerably more to take up my time than Amy did. And he didn't seem to think he'd ever see me again after he found I'd left Leadworth, so perhaps a part of him had started to forget about me, too.

On top of that, Leadworth wasn't my home in the way it was Amy's. Just by being there he'd become immersed in her life, but had only seen a fraction of mine. He knew about as much about me as I knew about him; and I was fine with that. Why wasn't he?

Why did he seem so surprised I didn't adore him?

"Why are you so worried about this?" I asked finally, and lifted my chin. "Do I scare you?"

"No," came the quick reply.

"Then what? I'm tired of your questions, so just tell me."

He opened his mouth, and was cut off by Amy's voice asking about whether we'd landed as she skipped back into the control room.

He looked once more at my hands, and then turned away.

When we landed, our tour guide told us to come along, rushed down to the door and sidled out before either of us could say anything.

"Girls?" He said as we followed him through the door, "Winston Churchill."

I didn't see Winston Churchill though. All I saw when I stepped through the door were the semi-circle of gun barrels directed at us. I stiffened, and didn't close the door behind us, keeping one hand on the handle.

"Oh, Winston, my old friend," the Doctor was saying.

I glanced at the figure he was speaking to. The iconic visage of Winston Churchill looked back at him, holding out his palm to our tour guide.

"Ah, every time," he laughed.

"What's he after?" Asked Amy, sounding as nervous as I felt.

"TARDIS key, of course."

"Think of what I could achieve with your remarkable machine, Doctor. The lives that could be saved."

"Ah, doesn't work like that."

This caught my attention. I hadn't considered it before, but Churchill had a point. Why would we not use this ship to minimize suffering rather than just wandering about? I closed the door behind me, suddenly fascinated.