The Last of Gallifrey- a Doctor Who fan fiction

The Renaissance Woman

Zero's POV

My skull pounded like my fists on Eleven's back as the blood rushed to my head. Shouting filled the air as great tidal waves of sound, and anxiety began to fill my stomach like a rising tide. I could almost feel the world spinning around me, and now anxiety turned to terror and nausea. I sputtered for a moment, but when Eleven slammed his Tardis door behind us, words came leaping past my lips.

"Doctor! Put me down now!" My voice seemed to ring louder than any noise.

Everything seemed to stop; silence rang through the air, and it pierced my skull with more intensity than any of the rushing, crashing sounds.

"Curios mistake... You must be so used to yelling at The Doctor," He shattered the silence.

"Doctor, that is the second time I've said that today. And I'm not in the mood for this. So put me down now!" Frustration and fretfulness choked my voice with unshed tears.

Very slowly, he set me back on my own two feet. My knees wobbled beneath me, and I gripped the Tardis railing for support.

"How did you find out?" The Doctor, this unfamiliar face, asked me.

"You'd have to an idiot not to see it," I scoffed, resting my spinning head in my hands. "You're so arrogant and childish. I see no difference between you two."

"Do you think he knows?"

"No," I sighed. "He's an idiot."

"Thanks."

I smiled softly. "It doesn't mean he isn't a genius."

"Oh, why thank you," he adjusted his bow tie arrogantly.

"Oi. Stop that!" I scolded, and then, as an afterthought, added, "I think I'm just going to keep calling you Eleven. I don't want to get confused."

He smiled softly and then his face turned serious. "Are you okay?"

"Just a little nauseous because someone decided to kidnap me and toss me about!"

"How else was I supposed to get you on the Tardis?"

"You could have asked nicely? Like a normal person?"

"No," he pulled levers on the console, and we began to dematerialise.

"Oi! Stop that! I need to go home!"

"We need to go on adventures together," Eleven said sternly. "Without your Doctor."

"Why?" I crossed my arms.

"Because it's a fixed point. It's supposed to happen."

"Says who?"

"Says Art," Eleven answered quietly.

"Art doesn't get to decide what points are fixed!"

"Oh, yes he does," Eleven replied coldly. "Art decides what happens to all of time."

"Why?" I asked, fear seeping back into my stomach.

"Because, he's the keeper of the universe."

"What does that mean?"