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╭──╯. . 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚏𝚎𝚎𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚘𝚏 𝚏𝚊𝚕𝚕𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚞𝚙𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚍𝚜 . .╰──╮
Wren, like Dorothy, has always believed that there was no place like home.
However.
There was also no place like space. Like the past or the future. There was no such place like it except for its actual being in time and existence. Wren would have the whole universe at her fingertips if she so pleased. She had the chance to touch the stars, walk upon foreign soil, and meet her favourite people — namely Freddie Mercury and George Harrison.
She had tossed, turned, flipped, and just about everything else as she tried to sleep last night, but her mind kept going back to what Rose Tyler had told her before she left; 'You're one of us now.' She's one of them. She's one of them and she's the potential daughter of a time-travelling alien and she wants to see the stars.
So she ran. She ran as fast as she could. Her mother giving her a quizzical look as she watched her daughter leave the house at seven past eight in the morning. She ran to the bus, she ran off the bus, and she was still running.
Her watch flashes 8:45 am in her face like a goddamn math teacher telling you that there are five minutes left but you've only done half the quiz. The numbers taunting her. Challenging her. Come on, try and beat me.
I've gotten this far.
I've gotten this far.
I've gotten this far.
She repeats it like a mantra as she skids down an alleyway.
I've gotten this far.
8:49 am
I've gotten this far.
I've gotten this far.
She can just make out the street sign that Powell Estate resides on. 'Providence Avenue'. Oh god, what if the TARDIS is parked somewhere else? What if they left early? What if The Doctor changed his mind? What if he didn't really mean it? What if? What if? What if?
No, the universe won't fuck me over today. I've gotten this far.
It comes into the view as her feet stomp against the ground like her own personal drum. That wonderful, magical, ridiculous blue box.
