To Be Continued (A Doctor Who Fanfiction)

Chapter Twenty One

I've had enough. Honestly, I can't take it anymore. I haven't told you from where I've been telling this story. And, I still can't. Because, well...spoilers.

But what I can say is that I will have to wrap this up soon. Or I may never finish.

That fated day...the second of May, 2018. The day the Doctor called.

"Elizabeth Talia Hoffnung, get your coat," his voice rang out clearly from the other side of the telephone.

"Doctor, do you realize what time it is?" I asked, nervously shrugging off the gaze of my manager.

"It's time to save the world!"

"Well, yes maybe, but it's also time for me to bus tables. You know, for money. Because last time, no one paid the electric after we saved the world."

"Talia."

"Doctor, I really must get back to work. I'm sorry, goodb--"

"Anthony is in trouble."

There was silence. The last time we had seen Tony was three weeks ago. He paged the Doctor and I just as we boarded the TARDIS for a week long trip to Midnight. We made the pitstop and found a crying, twelve-year-old Tony curled up on the roof of "Who's Next" barber shop. His parents had told him he was adopted. They told him he had a sister he'd never met and that since Amy gave birth to Tony's sister (Melody was her name), she could no longer have children. But when they'd seen him at the orphanage, neither Amy nor Rory could bring themselves to NOT take him home.

That night, Anthony took turns crying on each of our shoulders until the Doctor told him the story he'd told me only a few years before. He told the boy about his lonely voyage through the universe and of how he'd been invited into the hearts of so many strangers. They were not his blood, but they were all his family. He smiled at me when he'd finished his speech and only then did I realize: I was one of those strangers.

When he'd recovered to his typical, vibrant state, we sent him back home and I decided that I never wanted to see that boy cry again. I wouldn't let him. After all, I'd practically watched him grow up. After he'd gotten his hands on that pager, Anthony thought he was indestructible.  He went on adventures into abandoned buildings and shady backalleys.

Eventually, the TARDIS was appearing every night in my bedroom. And eventually, we told Anthony the whole truth of who we were. The Doctor and Talia: Intergalactic (Sometimes)Crime-Fighting Partners.

There certainly was a lot more going on in the 60s than we'd been taught in schools. We fought off Drahvin and Sensorite and Ice Warriors alike, all without allowing Anthony to expose himself to the firefight.

But with all of his exploring and searching for trouble, we both knew he was bound to find it. And obviously, he had.

I dropped the phone, not even bothering to hang it back up, and sprinted toward the door.

"Hey! Where do you think you're going?!" my boss shouted from the kitchen.

"My little brother's in trouble."

~~~