Jenny Smith-Holmes

Chapter 5: Drumbeats

JENNY'S P.O.V.
I woke up screaming and gasping for air. I was shaking violently, and sweating. My face was tear-stained, and more and more tears were fleeting from my eyes. I took me a moment to realize that I was in daddy's arms, slowly rocking back and forth. John was standing in the doorway as I scooted closer into daddy, still sobbing uncontrollably.
"What happened, Sherlock?" John asked tiredly. Daddy noticed that I was awake and sat me up, still rocking me back and forth.
"Why don't we ask Jenny that." He said looking me in the eye. I stopped sobbing long enough to utter the words I regretted the most in my life.
"T-t-the G-great T-time... W-w-war." Some memories were slipping back now, like momma and daddy, Daleks, Gallifrey, and... and the fob watch. I took my head off of daddy's chest to look down to see the fob watch in my hand.
I could hear the voices coming for it again. I looked up to see that daddy and John were oblivious to the voices. I looked back down to the fob watch. It started to sing to me, the woman's voice did, and I started to lull me to sleep. It was singing 'Hush Little Baby."
Hush, little baby, don't say a word.
Momma's gonna buy you a mockingbird
And if that mockingbird won't sing,
Momma's gonna buy you a diamond ring
And if that diamond ring turns brass,
Momma's gonna buy you a looking glass
And if that looking glass gets broke,
Momma's gonna buy you a Billy goat
And if that Billy goat won't pull,
Momma's gonna buy you a cart and bull
And if that cart and bull turn over,
Momma's gonna buy you a dog named Rover
And if that dog named Rover won't bark
Momma's gonna buy you a horse and cart
And if that horse and cart fall down,
You'll still be the sweetest little baby in town.


As the sweet woman's voice sang on, the more tired I got. Finally I slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep.
SHERLOCK'S P.O.V.
As I was rocking Jenny back and forth on my bed, slowly her crying turned to whimpers and she was soon asleep. It must have been a horrible nightmare, the sheets were tossed, all the pillows were on the floor, and it doesn't seem like Jenny was the kind to get scared that easily. Whatever it was must be really bad.
I looked down to the sleeping child in my arms and picked up a pillow that was on the floor. I placed it at the head of the bed and laid Jenny down. She was holding the blue blanket that I found her with and I spread it across her tiny body.
I got up off my bed and walked out of the room. I left the door open just a crack just in case Jenny woke up screaming again. I am worried for her, she's all I can think about at the moment.
I sat down on the couch, when I remembered something. Something she said to John. 'The Great Time War.' That's what she must have been dreaming of. I've never heard of it before, I could've deleted it.
I ran to the desk and got John's laptop. Humph, he thinks a password could keep me out. I entered the password, and sat in my chair. I clicked on Google and entered 'The Great Time War'. Only 4 pictures came up. A man in a tweed jacket, a red bowtie, and braces(suspenders) standing next to a woman in a gray sleeveless dress and tight, blonde curls holding... a red haired Jenny. I clicked on it and a caption came up.
'(Left) The Doctor, John Smith, (Middle) Jessica Amelia Pond, Jenny Smith, The Dreamer (Right) Melody Pond, Professor River Song. The only survivors of the Last Great Time War.' I looked at the person who posted it. It looked like some nutter had, but the girl in the picture looked very similar to Jenny, except with red hair.
So those are Jenny's parents. So many questions were racing through my head. 'What was the Last Great Time War?', 'Where are Jenny's parents now?', 'Why did they come to me to take care of Jenny?'
I decided to go to my mind palace, to see if I have any information on the Time War.
JENNY'S P.O.V.
I woke up lot calmer this time then I did earlier that night. I looked down at the fob watch in my hands. The voices won't go away. That is when it started, the drumming. It felt like it was coming from daddy's phone beside me.
Bump, bump, bump, bump.
Bump, bump, bump, bump.
Over, and over again.
1, 2, 3, 4, 1, 2, 3, 4, 1, 2, 3, 4.
I remembered The Master.
Children of Gallifrey were taken from their families at the age of eight, to enter the Academy. Some say that's where it all began, when he was a child. That's when the Master saw eternity. As a novice, he was taken for initiation. He stood in front of the Untempered Schism. It's a gap in the fabric of reality through which could be seen the whole of the vortex. We stand there, eight years old, staring at the raw power of Time and Space, just a child. Some would be inspired. Some would run away. And some would go mad.
'Listen, listen, listen, listen. Every minute, every second... every beat of my hearts. There it is. Calling to me. Please listen.' Is what he said to my dad. 'Ever since I was a child... I looked into the Vortex and that's when it chose me. The Drumming. The Call to War.'
I gasped as I came back in to reality. 'Is this the I life a ran away from?' I could still hear it, the drumming. 'Why, why, why? Why me? Why can I hear it?' I thought.
I sat on daddy's bed thinking, trying to remember my past. 'Maybe, it is in my head. Maybe it's all just dreams. Yes, that must be it just my imagination, my imagination.' I thought to myself, coaxing me to forget.
Then I heard three loud bangs, like gunshots. I buried myself deeper in the covers when I heard John yell.
"What the hell are you doing?!"
daddy mumbled something, and John yelled again.
"...what?"
"Bored!" daddy yelled, and more gunshots came. Daddy yelled bored between the gunshots again and again.
"Bored! I don't know what's gotten into the criminal classes, good job I'm not one of them." Daddy said, a little quieter than before, after all the bangs were gone. I peeked up above the covers.
"So you take it out on the wall?" John said calming down.
"Oh, the wall had it coming." Daddy said quickly. They continued the conversation, in very quiet tones. I sighed; not being able to over hear what they were saying is quite frustrating.
I looked out the window to see how dark it was.I jumped from the bed and grabbed my favorite blue blanket.
I looked down to see the same thing that I have been wearing for the past two days. Purple t-shirt, black shorts, and white converse. Then I heard over the sound of drums, which was getting fainter and fainter, my stomach growling. That's when I realized that I haven't eaten since I got here.
I wandered into the kitchen and pulled at the fridge door. It didn't budge. I let out a loud sigh, and ran over to John. He was sitting in his chair, reading the newspaper, looking very, very irritated. Where do all of these newspapers come from?
I tugged on his pants, quite hard too, and made him look at me.
"Can I have some food please, John?" I only gave him a mild puppy-dog look because I was very tired. He looked back towards the fridge and got up. I still heard the drumbeats, they weren't getting louder, but they were getting softer. John opened the fridge then slammed it quickly. I gave him a questing eyey-thing, something I saw daddy do... a lot.
John mumbled something under his breath and turned to daddy.
"A severed head!"
"Just tea for me, thanks." Daddy said lying on the couch. Staring at the ceiling. That's when I saw the bright yellow smiley face on the wall with...... bullet holes? So that's what was being shot.
"No, there's a head. In the fridge." John said flustered as I was walking into the living room.
"Yes." Daddy said calmly and quietly.
"A bloody head!" John yelled loudly, walking towards daddy.
"Where else was I supposed to put it? You don't mind do you?" daddy said smugly.
John held his hands out despairingly and looked back towards the fridge.
"I got it from Bart's morgue." Daddy said, grabbing something off the table. John buried his head in one hand.
"I'm measuring the coagulation of saliva after death." Daddy waved his hand vaguely in the direction of John's nearby laptop.
"I see you've written up the taxi driver case."
Throwing one last glance at the fridge, John said, "Uh, yes." He walked over to Sherlock's armchair and sat down.
I thought John was going to get me food. I walked over to the counter and pulled a chair up to it as Daddy and John Continued their conversation.
"A Study in Pink." Daddy said still reading that magazine.
Well, you know, pink lady, pink case, pink phone – there was a lot of pink. Did you like it?
"Umm, no."
"Why not? I thought you'd be flattered."
"Flattered? Sherlock sees through everything and everyone in seconds. What's incredible, though, is how spectacularly ignorant he is about some things."
I climbed up onto the counter and opened all the cuboard to find... No food in any of them. There were some dishes though. I sighed and got off the counter and walked into the living room again.
"Now hang on a minute. I didn't mean that in a ..." John started, but daddy cut him off.
"Oh, you meant 'spectacularly ignorant' in a nice way! Look, it doesn't matter to me who's Prime Minister ..."
"Harriet Jones, I think." I said quietly.
"I know ..." John added quietly.
"... or who's sleeping with who ..." daddy continued ranting about
"Whether the Earth goes round the Sun ..." John whispered, hoping that daddy wouldn't hear.
Wait....Daddy doesn't know that the Earth goes around the sun? Now that's something that I would not expect to happen, because even I know the Earth goes around the sun, and that there are 8 planets in our solar system. There are over 300 hundred dwarf planets...
"Not that again. It's not important." Daddy groaned
"Not impor..." John started as he shifted his position in the chair to face daddy. "It's primary school stuff. How can you not know that?"
Pressing the heels of his palms to his eyes daddy said, "Well, if I ever did, I've deleted it."
"'Deleted it'?"
Daddy swung his legs around to the floor and sat up to face John. "Listen." He pointed to his head with one finger. "This is my hard drive, and it only makes sense to put things in there that are useful ... really useful." He grimaced.
That's funny, I fill my head with everything and I remember everything too....OK I remember the important stuff, Minecraft's name is not important, or maybe his name is Mycrap...something like that. Oh, it's Mycroft, see I remember what I need to without 'deleting' anything on purpose. Daddy's brain must be small if he has to delete stuff.
"Ordinary people fill their heads with all kinds of rubbish, and that makes it hard to get at the stuff that matters. Do you see?"
John sat there looking at him for a moment; trying to bite his lip but then he couldn't contain himself. "But it's the solar system!" Daddy briefly buried his head in his hands.
"Oh, hell! What does that matter?!" He looked at John in frustration.
"So we go round the Sun! If we went round the Moon or round and round the garden like a teddy bear, it wouldn't make any difference. All that matters to me is the work. Without that, my brain rots." Daddy said ruffling his hair with both hands, and glared at John.
"Put that in your blog. Or better still; stop inflicting your opinions on the world." Daddy said in a very harsh tone. He lied down on the sofa again, turning over with his back to me and John, and pulled his dressing gown around him while curling up into a ball. John looked at me and pursed his lips. The front door downstairs opens and closes. John stood up and walked towards the living room door, taking my hand.
Looking over his shoulder, daddy asked, "Where are you two going?"
"Out. I need some air, and Jenny needs something to eat." John angrily said tightly, putting his jacket on. Daddy looked at me, like he was just realizing I was there. We headed for the stairs, which an elderly woman was coming up.
"'Scuse us, Mrs. Hu ..."
"Oh, sorry, love! Who's this, dearie?"
"Oh, uh... Jenny, her name is Jenny. And we were just leaving. Sorry Mrs. Hudson." John said as he picked me up and carried me down the stairs. I heard Mrs. Hudson talking to daddy as John carried me out the door. The cold air hit us, making me curl up into John. He started walking, and I quickly fell asleep on him, listening to the sound of drumbeats and voices.