Wanderer of Time: Silence Begins (doctor who)

Chapter 7: Troubles with Nine

Warning: Post-traumatic Stress Disorder, panic/anxiety attacks

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Wanda lost track of time studying in the library. It was hard to keep track of the passing hours when one did not need to sleep much. When she eventually glanced down to her new phone, she found that she had been reading for over a day. She blinked in shock. It would explain why her eyes felt so tired. She looked back to her sheet of yellow paper in hand, the prophecy of Trenzalore. She almost wanted to show it to Eleven whenever she saw him again, but she knew it was too soon for him to know of the prophecy. Not only this, but . . . something told her not to show him. A small twinge of dread went through her whenever she stared at it. It made her feel queasy.

Placing the prophecy away in a pant pocket, she stood up from her armchair. She placed away the book she had been reading, a book explaining the fundamentals of 'love.' She found the subject even more confusing than that of her mechanic books. It was a really hard subject for her to grasp. She had no idea why people seem to be infatuated within the overemotional response. It only seemed silly to her, really. What real purpose did 'love' have within a logical and rational world? She found she could not conceive an answer to this question which plagued her.

Walking down the corridor, she wandered back into the control room to see the Doctor in very much the same condition she had found him in last. He sat curled back up into his ball and sobbed away. She sucked in a breath, finding it painful to see him in such a state. She wished there were something she could do. But the only thing she could think of was to sit down next to him and gently rub his back. So, she did just that. They sat there for a long while with her rubbing his back soothingly with him lost within his own world of horrors.

After some time, he pulled himself out of the attack on his mentality. He lifted his head and blinked in surprise to her. Then he frowned.

"You're still here?" he questioned in annoyance.

"Oh, that's lovely. Great seeing you, too," she responded sarcastically. She let her hand drop away from his back. She stared at him for a moment, seeing how he refused to look her in the eye. The same sorrow still written on his face. Wanda sighed heavily, wishing there was something more of him that she could do. "I'm sorry you have to go through these things."

"Why do you care? You're nothing more than a figment of my imagination, a hallucination, a delusion," he stated curtly. "In fact, it only shows how mad I am by even responding to you." Wanda rolled her eyes.

"Okay, if I'm not real, then this won't hurt," she retorted sarcastically. She then promptly smacked him on the back of the head. He flinched, giving her a glare as he rubbed the back of his head.

"Oi, enough of that." The Doctor reached at her and returned a smack. She huffed and then sent him another smack in response.

This then turned into a small war between them. Each giving the other a smack in the back of the head. In the end, both smacked each other at the same exact moment. The way the Doctor looked at her, the expression on his face like a child not getting his way. This made Wanda pause. She snickered some, then giggled, and then went into a fit of laughter. She clutched at her stomach, rolling on the floor on her back as she laughed away. The Doctor stared at her in bewilderment. A brow raised high at her.

"What the heck is so funny?" he asked her.

"You're face! That's what," she responded through her laughs, pointing him with a grin.

"You know what, I've changed my mind. You're the mad one here." He looked away from her, staring up to the ceiling, a distant expression clearly showing upon his face. Still going through the troubling turmoil of his mentality.