Chapter Five-Doctor's POV

Note: I’m not going to write the actual adventures of the day. Mostly it will be the events that take place in the TARDIS. Anything important to the plot. I can always go back and add some exciting planets and aliens later on.

_____________________________________________________________________________________

We were laughing as I dragged Lexi back into the TARDIS, our fingers intertwined like it was the most natural thing in the universe. Holding hands with my companions had become a habit ever since I had met Rose in that basement not that long ago. I dropped my coat on the railing, lent against the consol, and looked back at Lexi. She was still giggling and grinning as she turned to me and asked,

“Does that kind of stuff happen to you a lot?”

“You have no idea.” I told her bemused.

“That was funny. I mean, do they actually expect to be taken seriously looking like that? And that high-pitched voice!”

“I know!” I laughed out, “The Heliotrophs of The Agrxon Constilation breath helium, like when you suck the helium out of a balloon and it makes your voice funny. Their just a wierd quirk of life in with wonderful universe. I thought you would enjoy them. Too bad I landed us in the middle of their civil war. Sorry.”

“So,” She said leaning on the consol next to me, “Where we goin’ next?”

I laughed, “One big adventure per day, otherwise my old hearts might give out on me.”

“Hearts?” She asked with a raised eyebrow.

“All two of ‘em.”

She just laughed and headed down the corridoor to her room. I shook my head at her retreating form. It was a good thing she was here. She brought life, she brought light, she brought fun back into my life. I followed her down the hallway and turned into my room.

I dropped down on the bed and suddenly found my self gasping for breath. I was in the orange exploration suit I had worn when Ida Scott and I had gone to explore the Beast’s pit, except the shield was broken and I was alone. The Voice of the Beast filled my head…

“And the lost girl, so far away from home. The valiant child who will die in battle so very soon.”

_____________________________________________________________________________________

But you don't know what you got 'til it's gone
And you don't know what it's like to feel so low
And every time you smile or laugh you glow
You don't even know, no, no.
You don't even know.

I sat up in bed in a cold sweat, gasping for breath. Since when do I have bad dreams? Since when do I dream? I wondered as I got out of bed and wondered to the door. As I opened the door I was greated by loud music. I followed my ears and much to my amusment found a PJ clad Lexi dancing around the consol.

She grinned up at me when she saw me and said, “You get every single song ever written!”

“You’re a good dancer.” I commented.

“That’s me anything artistic.”

“And so humble too I see. What are you listening to?”

“‘Wake Up The Dead’ by Family Force 5”

“Hmm, waking up the dead, generally not a good thing. Would you mind turning it down a bit?” I asked. She grinned and made to turn it down, but instead turned it up and shouted along to the lyrics.

“‘If it’s too loud, well then you must be too old!’”

“Oi!” I said pretending to be insulted but laughing in spite of myself, “And here I was going to tell you one of my facinating storied you’ve been begging me to tell you.”

She looked up and asked carefully, “Will you tell me why you were crying next to a big white wall last night?”

I paused a moment considering whether or not it was worth putting myself through the pain of reliving it all for the sake of a bed time story, but then desided, she deserved to know.

I nodded, “If you want.”

She nodded back, “I’d like too. I hardly know anything about you, maybe this will help me to understand you better. But first I have to go get something.” She turnned off the music (how she figured out how to do that without accidently sending us hurtling into the 1840’s I’ll never know) and ran off down the hall.

When she finally reapeared she had a blanket, two pillows, and what apeared to be a sketchbook and pencils.

“Ready?” I asked.

“Ready.” She afferrmed. I led her down a hallway and into a room with a fireplace (alread burning) and a big couch. She plopped down on the couch and a settled in next to her.

It was going to be a long night, because before I could tell her about how I met Rose, I had to tell her all the horrable things that happened to me during the Time War, and about what kind of a man those expearences had made me.

I looked over her shoulder as she opened her sketchbook. I was startled to see several very accurate sketchs of both me and the Heliotrophs of today’s outing as she flipped through the pages. I siliently wondered how long I had been asleep but let it pass as I figured I could use the rest.

I knew this was going to be tough so I dove right into the story, trying to be as descriptive as this language let me, as I knew, Lexi would be avidly scribbling away. As I told my tale, I was astonished to watch the scenes of my life drawn out in front of me, with surprising acruacy.

She drew the Concil at the Galifrey Center, she scribbled out the entire citidel, she caught the harshness behind the Daleks and their Emperor, she drew the destruction of my planet in wildharsh splashes of color and jagged lines, he drew aliens of all shapes and sizes and colors. It was as if my memories were flying directing on to her paper. She drew Cybermen, Raccnoss, Ood, and Daleks everywhere scribbled in the corners and margins over and over again as if trying to capture the pain of my story for so that the world would know my pain.

She drew all of my different regenerations as I described them, with the same spark of something that made the drawings so…me, hiden, there, just behind the eyes.

And at the end, the end of the Time War, the end of my 8th regeneration, and the end of my ability to continue on with the story, we wer both in tears. She was crying for me, for my fears, my lost, my suffuring and I was crying not out of pain or despair, but out of shame. Out of shame of what I had done, what actions I had pursued, and the pain I had just forced Lexi to endure, because through her drawing, she had felt, and seen, and understood. I had finally found some who was truely empathetic to my suffering and it just made me hurt more.

Eventually we had cried ourselves dry and Lexi colapsed on the couch I tucked the blanket up to her chin and smoothed out the har on the top of her head. I then tided up the spilt pencils and opened the book to view her work. I was scary accurate. It was as if she could see my memories as I spoke them. I supose that proved how good an artist she was. VanGogh was always the emotional type, I guess it came with the job title.

I shut the book and placed it on the floor next to the pencils. With a side long glance at my new partner in crime I thought, She dances, she sings, she acts, she draws,she understands me, and she can actually make forget the pain for just alittle while. Is there anything she can’t do? With a sad sigh relised another thing she could do, She could die. Just like everyone else in this whole stupid world (with the exception of Jack), she could leave me all alone and miserable again, morning another life I caused to be cut down.

All this time moves by
Still no reason why
A little bit longer and I'll be fine.
Waitin' on a cure
But none of them are sure
A little bit longer and I'll be fine

Notes: Song 1: Little Bit Longer by: Jonas Brothers, Song 2: Wake Up The Dead by: Family Force 5, Quote: From The Satin Pit episode, refernce to the title “Partners in Crime”

Coming up: in this book, the sequel, and the threequel…… “And just like that, the wall of white was no more.”… “That’s Jack, Don’t, just don’t.”…“I wasn’t making the same mistake twice.”… “This calls for kareoke!”… “I am the Bad Wolf.” … “This is a Paradox waiting to happen.”… “Please tell me that was the Doctor with two hearts and the ability to regenerate!”… “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”…and…“And death is coming. I can see it.! Everlasting death for the most faithful companion!”