The Man From Her Dreams ☾ Doctor Who Fanfiction

chapter 1 ~ the doctor is real

U N D E R    E D I T I N G

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«Who are you?»

Oh, she would've loved to know.

«What's your name?»

Did she need to have a name?

«Who are your parents?»

Slowly and slightly, her mouth fell open, her big blue eyes staring in wonder as she left three words escape her mouth «What are parents?» Genuine confusion echoed in her small voice.

The man and woman exchanged a glance, eyes wide with transparent concern swimming in them. Leaving the little, confused child to wonder what had she said wrong.

«Amnesia. Probably got hurt, perhaps slammed her head or fell... Tell me dear, do you remember something about you getting hurt? Did you slam your head?»

«Or did someone hurt you?» The man in a white overall coat asked, he and the lady next to him, scanning her face as if she were a museum's reliquie.

That was when the little child realized something: there was a war.

A war inside her head. Different emotions battling, causing her head to almost to explode. She wanted to shout and break something, cry in both frustration and sadness. Because she felt like something had been taken away from her.

Something so precious that it made her life. She opened her mouth to say something. To tell them she had to get back home, she had to save her family, but then it just...

Snap.

Disappeared.

It's like one part of her brain that remembered, stopped working, leaving her there, alone.

So the little brunette girl closed her mouth and shook her head.

The male doctor pursed his lips, staring at her in complete desperation. «Do at least know your name?» he attempted, one last glimpse of hope flashing in his eyes.

Her little face lit up, her already big blue eyes widening even further. Yes, yes! I do! It has to do something with a stone! Yes, I know it! It's Crysta— her face fell, and all of her thoughts vanished.

Like a turned off megaphone, she shut down, her mouth closing. Then, once again, she shook her head.

That's how her new life began.

Taking pity on her, the two doctors let the girl go soon enough, for they understood that their questions just confused her further.

They sat her in a police car, wrapping an orange cozy blanket around her. And there she sat, motionlessly.

People rushed around her, more cars arrived and even more weirded glances were thrown her way. Because the way the little girl sat seemed simply inhuman: her back straight, her unnaturally blue eyes fixed – she looked like a superhuman of some sort.

But she ignored all of the states, and sat still, gripping the leather seats of the police car.

It was dark, and the glimpsing lights of the now three cars were the only source of illumination. The little girl sat, and her eyes looked on, into a world no one but her could see.

She felt empty. Like a jar of marmellate that was suddenly emptied, then broken. She sat there, so little... then why did she feel so old? Why did she feel like she had already lived a life of her own? And why, why, did a tear slide down her cheek?