The Unexpected Hero

That Evil State Of Mind

LACEY

(The next day...)

He was on my mind. In my dreams.

The Doctor.

His motives were clear: he's evil, and does evil, but lies to people for good.

Why do I care. As if I care... I don't even care!

Oh, but in my dreams, the Doctor is a wonderful man. A mad man.

But he is like that anyway; nothing like my expectance. He's smart, cunning, witty and stupid, yes. But devious, seductive, and sexy. So very, very sexy.

I loved him more than my heart could hold. No matter how many times I force myself to hate him because he's 'evil'.

Evil isn't a real thing, not for anyone. No one can be pure evil, or born evil, it's a state of mind. The Doctor gets a rush of adrenaline being bad, so he does it. Probably the same reason why I stay with the crazy man. He gives me a rush, of God knows what... Excitement, love, adrenaline, passion... Whatever it is, it's amazing.

"Lacey," the sweet voice of a man wakened me. I shot my head up and ignored my thoughtful lust.

"Doctor," I breathed out, raising an eyebrow when I noticed he was shirtless. "Where's your shirt?"

"I went for a walk to the TARDIS and had to change. Couldn't find a shirt in the dark." He sounded pissed off.

"Turn the lights on or something?" I shrugged.

"Console was charging. I was lucky I even got in!" He threw my pillow at me, "and you, Lacey, talk too much in your sleep."

I blushed with embarrassment, making a face when he put on another shirt. It wasn't his usual long sleeve, but it was a shirt.

"You have a shirt!" I shook away in disappointed, sitting up after all the blood rushed to my head.

"But it's the SAME shirt! That's just disgusting, I've been wearing if for three days!

"Don't put it back on then, ass," I stuck my tongue out at him and slid back into bed. The Doctor huffed, smiling at me. The creepy thing about it was that he felt the need to join me in my bed without me realising.

"Do you dream, Doctor?" My curiosity took over my better judgement. The Doctor nodded slowly.

"A bit, yes. About past events and people. My old friends, my new ones..." His voice trailed off as he stared at the ceiling. "I wasn't always bad, Lacey. I stopped the Time War before we all... And I... They're all... Gone. Slipped out of my hands, just like that. The Master was more of the baddie when we were young, but he wasn't there to save them. As they say, we grow into who we are. Wait, who said that?"

"We are who we are for a reason, Doctor. Whether it to be a slave or a villain, a hero or lover. All we have to do is find out which one we are. Not the one we portray ourselves to be, huh, villainous Doctor?" I closed my eyes and imaged a shelf of toys, and a library. This encouraged my imagination, and apparently, it was only morning. One in the morning.

"Who are you?" The Doctor asked me, stretching his arms.

"The watcher," I shrugged. "Rubie's the lover and the Master much the same, but his role is the protagonist and his enemy is the Doctor. Rubie fights alongside the Master even if it is only just words."

"You wouldn't fight with me?" He raised an eyebrow, "even if I ask you nicely?"

I eyed him, flipping his hair over his forehead. He was a pretty man with a funny forehead and an amusing chin.

"What are you expecting to happen, huh? A war? And who do you think I am, your..." I left my bed, pushing the curtains away from my view of the outside the window. The TARDIS sat on the rounded raise of my backyard, underneath a scribbly gum tree.

"How wonderful is it," I spun around, catching a glimpse of my poster, "when you call yourself evil, but... Are you?"

He closed his eyes, and exhaled loudly.

"Have you ever heard your own heartbeat, Lacey?" The Doctor asked.

"No..." I shrugged. That didn't have anything to do with anything I was even...

"I hear my heartbeat in my ears all the time. It's an excelled loud sound, like a massive, uh..." His voice trailed off again. I felt like my heart was tensing, and an unusually uplifting and nervous feeling was fluttering me. And then I heard my heartbeat ring in my ears, as loud as a scream in a field of daisies.

"Come back to bed," the Doctor chuckled, patting the vacant space beside him.

I lay down, looking over at my bedside table where the sonic screwdriver rested. The Doctor reached over to grab it, nudging my landscape painting on the wall.

"No, Doctor, don't..." I gasped, when my heavy framed artwork slipped off the hook on the wall and hit him on the head. "The painting falls at a touch..."

But it was already too late.

"Oh, haha..." A disoriented laugh escaped the Doctor's mouth, and he, along with the painting, fell on top of me.

My breathing was caught under the shallow space. I wobbled from my knees onto my feet, hanging the painting up back to its original position. It was hard to keep balance on my springy mattress. The Doctor was in an obscure position when I returned to sitting on my ass. The top half of his body was draped off the bed, and his mouth was open and his tongue dangled along his bottom lip.

"Not again!" I panicked, jumping when I heard Dilly whiz around the room. "Doctor!" I slapped his face with a stiff palm, then poked him with his screwdriver. He was out cold, unconscious and mellow.

I covered the bump on his head with his brown hair, shooing Dilly away rudely and annoyingly as if she was a fly.

"Sorry, Dilly!" My hands flew over my mouth when I noticed she was swatted away. I carefully placed her away from my panic zone. God... Everything was going wrong in this short amount of time, so early in the morning!

My mind raced agonisingly. This wasn't a punch in the nose, or a small knock on the head. The painting weighed more than a box of books, maybe, just maybe...

"Damn it!" I cursed, grabbing my phone, with a unsteady hand, I called Rubie. My vision was clouded and my muscles suffered from some terrible shakiness.

"Dilly!" I shrieked while the phone was ringing, "he's dead, my freaking painting killed him!"

The fae stood on the Doctor's forehead, definitely not a help when I attempted to drag Doctor back onto the bed one handed. I made the mistake with lifting with my back instead of my knees, which resulted in the Doctor's head now in between his legs, and it wasn't a good sight.

"Rubie... It's Lacey. Something's wrong with the Doctor. Can you... Can you please..."

No, this couldn't have happened. I couldn't have killed the Doctor.