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It was an unfortunate truth that time was all around, despite how much one tried to dodge and avoid it. Susan Foreman wasn’t particularly keen on the time concept, even if she were a Time Lady and even if she were supposed to understand it fluently. It was a bitter reminder of all the things she couldn’t do and all of the things she hadn’t been able to do in the past. She hadn’t been able to make her grandfather come back for her, she hadn’t been able to save her husband from becoming another victim of the Master, she hadn’t been able to save her son from the Daleks, she couldn’t even accomplish the simplest of time travel without the Vortex Manipulator melting her arm, and she couldn’t even remember most of what had happened to her. Just the bare, basic, tantalizing facts, but she couldn’t conjure up an image of David’s face, and the only reason she could remember Alex was because her new regeneration bore a startling resemblance. And still, she couldn’t be completely sure of why her memories were beginning to fade away – something else Arkytior could add to her list of failures, to be sure.
She sat on the roof of her apartment building, her feet dangling precariously over the edge. It was here that she had committed her first abuse of power – taking over a human’s mind in a fit of rage and forcing him to fling himself off the roof. Susan stared down at the spot where they had found the body contemplatively. Her arm began to itch once more, and she looked irritably down at it. The bandages were coming loose from when she had tied them earlier. She let her hand run across the burns the Vortex Manipulator had given her. It’d taken her several determined hours just to get all the pieces out from her skin. She ran her fingernails down the side of it, taking out loose bits of flesh. She looked up at the sky, blue eyes narrowed in annoyance.
It was a strange feeling to be a stone’s throw from where it all began. She could see Totter’s Lane from the roof, and she could make out what used to be the junkyard. It was there that her teachers had followed her home. What if they hadn’t, though? What if Ian and Barbara had never suspected anything out of the ordinary with the very unearthly child? Would her grandfather had stayed in London? If they had stayed in London, it was possible they wouldn’t have met the Daleks. And if that had happened, then she wouldn’t have met David. Certainly, if the two teachers hadn’t followed her home, the Doctor wouldn’t have whisked her away in the middle of the night. He was always saying that he needed to keep her safe, although she would never figure out why or from whom.
She clenched her fists and bared her teeth. She averted her eyes from Totter’s Lane, now looking down to the ground forty meters below her.
ooc| I figured the Doctor would be around there because it *is* London, and he likes to lurk there. Also, Totter's Lane was where he and Susan were living briefly in the original series.
With a tug at his tweed lapels and a twiddle of his blue bow tie, the Doctor stepped out of the TARDIS after it landed and closed the door behind. "Hm...let's see...looks like typical 21st-century..." He licked his finger and held it up in front of him for a few seconds, then sniffed the air. "Yup, 2012. Glad to see the world hasn't ended yet." A look around showed him that he had materialized outside an apartment building in a street. "And hang on...this looks familiar..." The madman started walking from his box and down the road from the building, following the road for a short time. Eventually he came to...well, wasn't this a coincidence.
The Doctor found himself outside the gate to the junkyard of Totter's Lane. Well, that told him he was in London, and he'd found the place where it had all started. He smiled to himself. "Hello again." He extended his hand and rubbed the door. After a few minutes of slightly painful nostalgia, he turned away and headed back the way he came. He decided to do a quick alien spot-check, see if there was anything of interest, then head on. Though he was back at Totter's Lane, there were some things he didn't want to remember.
The sound of the TARDIS was undeniably terrifying to those who hate the man inside. Susan let out a little squall of shock and nearly toppled off the roof of the building. She caught herself and stood up, squinting down at the man who stepped from the TARDIS. He was young and unfamiliar, but she knew that it didn’t matter – someone probably got tired of that crotchety old man and killed him. She gritted her teeth, unsure of what to do now that she and he were in the same basic vicinity. Sure, she’d often dreamt of the day when she had him under her thumb. Usually it ended in bloodshed and she stole something that he loved.
The Time Lady went down the fire escape, watching as her grandfather disappeared around a building to go through Totter’s Lane. She paused by the TARDIS and put her hand on it. “I see he still hasn’t fixed you,” she said. Susan removed her hand and sighed, knowing that she needed to get out of range before she lost her temper and the darker side took over.
Still, her feet rather ignored her as she continued to walk after the Doctor. “Stop,” she grumbled, attempting to turn her body so that she could go and hide under her bed. If she pretended like she didn’t exist, then the Doctor wouldn’t stay. He didn’t stay even when she had existed. And yet her feet kept stubbornly marching towards the abandoned junkyard. When she had first landed in this time period, in this city, she had sat in the junkyard, wondering if Ian and Barbara would ever come back, wondering if her grandfather sometimes thought about her.
But nobody ever came, except small children to see the crazy lady who spoke to herself in the junkyard.
“Stop! You’re supposed to listen to me!” she told her feet crossly, digging her heels into the ground. Once she was properly certain that she had control over her feet once more, she wriggled her toes, muttering curses under her breath. “If we go away, he won’t stay,” she reminded herself.
As he turned back on to the street he had first walked down so the TARDIS was in view, he noticed someone standing near it. A woman, it appeared. "Wonder who that is," he murmured to himself. As he got closer, he could make out more details. Long, black hair that went down to her chin. She was quite tall, though that could've been the high-heels she was wearing. Soon the Doctor was close enough to make out her face, but not right in front of her. But it was close enough. For that face, though different, immediately made him halt and freeze to the spot. He just stood there, staring at her, eyes wide in shock. He tried to say something, but couldn't bring himself to. His mouth was open with no sound coming out.
Eventually, he managed to make it move. "S...S..." He gulped. "Susan...is it you?" he whispered.
That was the trouble of regenerating into a body that looked like a taller version of your original – people recognized you. Especially the people that you didn’t want to recognize you. Susan stared at him, her mouth dry. She looked down accusingly at her feet, finding it very troublesome that just a few minutes she couldn’t get her feet to stop, and now they wouldn’t let her run away. She took a heavy step back, her feet feeling like lead.
Kill him![/color][/b] Arkytior snarled at herself, her anger slamming at her mind heavily.He made your family die![/color][/b] the voice continued harshly. She took another step back, moving her wounded arm behind her back. The last thing she needed was for the Doctor to see that she was so incapable of time travel that a Vortex Manipulator had nearly melded to her arm.
Susan moved backwards again, pressing her back against the wall of her apartment complex. She glanced over to the side, wondering if she was too far from the main entrance to get away without the Doctor being able to follow her. “I’m not your Susan,” she warned, the voice inside her head screaming for her to wrap her hands around his neck and strangle him. “I hate you.”
Those seven words hit the Doctor like seven bullets to the stomach. She hadn't said anything, not a word of greeting, not a 'hello,' not a hug for her grandfather who she hadn't seen in years, no doubt. Just, "I'm not your Susan. I hate you." Those words caused the Doctor to breathe in sharply, and he felt a lump in his throat.
"Susan...it's me!" he said, holding his arms out. "The Doctor. Your grandfather! Oh, it's...I can't describe how good it is to see you..." He was trying to be brave, to take no notice of her harsh words. She wouldn't be like that, not his Susan...why did she say those words? "Come here," he said, putting on a small, and not-very genuine grin, and going towards her to give her a hug.
Last Edit: Jan 29, 2012 14:07:50 GMT -5 by Deleted
He didn’t seem to appear overly-affected by her harsh words. Sure, he wasn’t all butterflies and kittens when she’d said it, but he certainly didn’t show any intention of backing off from the frightened Time Lady. She stared at him, trying to understand how his mind worked. Wasn’t it obvious that she didn’t want to be near him? She had backed up against and a wall and told him she hated him, so why was he trying to come closer? She pressed harder against the wall, distressed.
I can’t describe how good it is to see you.
Her eyes flashed angrily and she snarled, pushing herself off from the wall violently. “Why don’t you go ruin somebody else’s life, Doctor?” she snapped, arms clenched by her side. “You seem to be really good at leaving people, so why don’t you just go?” she growled. She scratched at the burns on her arm.
“Don’t touch me, murderer,” she said, her voice less angry and more uneasy now that the distance between them was closer. She looked around anxiously, trying to find the nearest and quickest exit. “They’re both dead because of you,” she said, a tremble in her voice. She looked at him accusingly.
She covered her ears and growled. “Should’ve stayed inside, he wouldn’t have found you if you were inside,” she hissed to herself. “I hoped I wouldn’t ever meet you again, because you know what? You’re… you’re a bad man! You’re a harbinger of evil! And I’m no granddaughter of yours,” she snapped, looking up at him again.
If the first words she'd said were hurtful, these were devastating. This time their impact showed on the Doctor's face, and he backed away slightly. He worried as she covered her ears, and seemed to talk to herself...was she going mad? "Susan!" the Doctor shouted, concerned. "Susan, what is it? What's wrong?" He still wondered what she was talking about...she called him murderer, accused him of killing 'both of them.' This frightened him. "Susan," he repeated, "let me help you. What do you mean, a bad man? What did I do?"
Susan sat down against the wall. Her arm was killing her and she needed to rewrap it, but she didn’t want to risk leading him to her apartment. He probably hadn’t put it together that this was her apartment and she didn’t want him to know. She wanted to just be as stubborn and resistant as she could until he left her alone. And he would leave her alone, he had done it before. Everyone had left her alone. She looked up at him – he seemed less cheerful than he had moments ago, and maybe that was a flicker of guilt on his face. Her lips twitched into a scowl, though, as she realized that the guilt had already changed to concern.
She clawed at the arm, whispering to herself under her breath. “You wouldn’t know, would you?” she snapped. “Never met him, but they both died for you.” It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that she had accepted life without her grandfather, but he just kept ruining her life after she left. Not fair, not fair at all.
“I’m forgetting them,” she said quietly. “I have to say my name to remember myself, Doctor. And it’s your fault!” she seethed, wincing as she dug too deeply into her arm. She took a deep breath, trying to calm down.
“You can’t help me anymore,” she mumbled, drawing her knees to her chest. “Just go away. I don’t want you to see me.”
"Susan," the Doctor said again. He went down on his hunkers in front of her, and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Listen. Whatever's happened, whatever I've done, I am truly, very sorry. But there's something wrong with you. Please let me help." Then he picked up what she said. "To remember them...do you mean David? And someone else, obviously. I can explain that. But let me help you now." He noticed the grip she had on her arm, and moved to have a look. "Please." He didn't do anything without her permission, not wanting to anger her. The look in his eyes showed pleading, and the want of forgiveness for whatever he'd done.
He was entirely too close, and it would be very easy for her knock him down and flee. Susan looked pointedly at the hand on her shoulder, shrugging it off bitterly. “I just want to be left alone. I didn’t want you to see me. I saw you and I thought I would kill you,” she told him, hunching her shoulders to make herself as small as possible. Why wouldn’t he just leave? If she had acted like she was glad to see him, maybe he would have left.
She covered her ears. “You can’t be sorry if you don’t know what you did!” she said irritably, glaring at him. “I don’t want your help! You didn’t help me when I needed you,” she reminded him harshly, scooting away from him slightly. She wasn’t going to let him manipulate her into thinking he was a good guy. She’d seen him do it to others, but she wasn’t going to go for it. She dropped her hands into her lap. He was still too close for comfort, but he didn’t seem to be moving any close and he wasn’t touching her anymore.
“David,” she whispered, looking down at her hands and nodding. “The Master killed him and then h-he took me,” she recalled quietly. She could remember the emotions – terror, and then a numbing rage when she’d pieced together what the cruel man had done. And all to find the Doctor. She felt another surge of rage and she twitched, growling.
And someone else, obviously.
Killhimkillhim[/i][/color].
She covered her ears and whimpered, biting her lip harshly to keep from letting out a dry sob that threatened to escape. “He wanted to be like you,” she said, her voice cracking. “David used to tell him stories about you when he was a little boy. Used to tell him how great his great-grandfather was,” she growled. “A-and the Daleks came and you weren’t there and we were alone and they killed him. And he was dead and it was…” she trailed off and coiled up, waiting for the wave of grief to pass.
I can explain that.
She stilled. “Doesn’t matter anymore. Everyone I love is dead,” she said, although it was a lie because she desperately wanted to know why she was steadily going insane.
She looked up at him and caught him staring at her arm. She stood up, brushing against him roughly. “I don’t want you to touch me. I don’t know why you won’t just give up. You left me easily enough when I wanted you to stay,” she said, crossing her arms and stepping away from him.
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