My Lonely Angel

2 - Rose Tyler

I looked at the Doctor as we walked down the cold, wet pavement. There weren't very many people around, and he seemed to be excited. Instead of walking, he half-jogged, and instead of talking, he nearly yelled, and every time I caught his eye, he would smile and laugh and kept moving forward. I followed him, but once he took a left down a dark alley, I had to question him.

"Where are we going, Doctor?" I asked, looking around. The alley was damp and dark, and I shivered, not because I was cold, but because I was scared. I haven't been there before; I haven't even seen it before that very moment.

"Well, I happened to notice a dark, intimidating alley and decided to see why it was so dark and intimidating," he replied.

He walked ahead of me, looking around in every nook and every cranny he could find. 

"What do you expect to find? And if you do find something, what will you do? It's not like you have a sonic screwdriver anymore. You're human, remember?" I told him, warily looking around.

"Yes, but not entirely human. You see, I have more than half of the timelord genes because I have the memories. The memories of all of time and space, of all of the universe and of many universes after that. So I'm still, technically, more timelord. I even have my own--" 

"Sonic screwdriver?" I yelled as he pulled one out of his pocket. "How the hell did you get that? I thought the real Doctor had it!"

"Oh, he still has his. But, when I was in the incinerator with Donna in the TARDIS, I found my own. When I regenerated, or, well, rather, when I was made, the TARDIS recognized me as a timelord and then it gave me my very own," he said, examining the metal piece. 

"Oh, that's good, but does he know?" I asked, raising an eyebrow in curiosity.

"Who? Oh, him! Well, technically, since I am him, he does know!" He said, aiming the screwdriver at a wooden crate.

"What are you doing?" I asked, leaning closer. The Doctor looked at the screwdriver, then at me, then at the box. "What? What is it?" 

"Rose," he said, smiling, "how do you feel about children?"

        At home, the Doctor dropped the crate on the table and again pointed the screwdriver at it.

"What is it?" I kept asking, but the Doctor would only look at me and smile.

"It's a surprise!" He finally said, searching in my cabinets. 

"What are you looking for?" I asked, crossing my arms.

"A hammer," he said, still searching.

"Why? Why do you need a hammer?" I asked, looking at the old, weak crate. "I could easily just crack this thing open right now."

"But you wouldn't," he said, smiling when he finally found one.

"What? Why wouldn't I?" I asked again, watching him as he carefully tapped the crate. I waited for a few seconds; for a noise, a scratch, anything that would possibly clear my vision on all of it.

"Listen," he whispered, pulling out a stethoscope. He put the ear buds in and waited, cocking his head to the side. Finally, after a few minutes, there was a gurgling noise, almost like water bubbling in a pot.

"What is it?" I whispered, walking closer to the box. "Why won't you tell me!"

"Quiet!" He said, still listening. After more slow, quiet minutes, he finally pulled away from the box. "Would you like to know what this small, wooden crate holds?" He asked, smiling.

"Yes! I would very, very much enjoy it if you would just tell me!" I yelled impatiently.

"Sh!" He said, putting his index finger over his mouth. "You'll scare it."

"It?" I asked, looking at the box. "It's just a box. An inanimate object. It has no feelings."

"Yes, I know the box has no feelings!" He yelled. "But what's inside it does!" He gently pulled out three of the rusty nails out of the wood and pulled away each creaky slab. "Look," he murmured, staring into the box.

"What?" I whispered, stepping nearer. 

Inside was a small baby, so small it shouldn't even be considered a baby. Inside the wooden crate was an embryo, floating inside a small jar.

"What--?" I ask again, looking at the Doctor.

"This is a Zardox. One of the smallest beings in the universe," the Doctor said, smiling.