The Doctor's Daughter (Doctor Who FanFic) #Wattys2016

Chapter 81- Danny's Past

A/N Sorry! I've been neglecting this story due to the updates with the Numbers on Her Wrist (my story that has reached #1 in Action and is holding steady around #3-5)

I am thinking of a new adventure with the gang, but at the moment, I want to share some of Danielle's past with y'all. Just so you know, this is something she has and never would share with the Doctor, River or Calvin.

This is a story she has tried very hard to forget... That being said, ****MILD WARNING****, there is several bad words in this chapter... I almost never use them in writing (never in rl) but in this instance, I will allow a few.

Hope you enjoy my lovelies!

Danielle's POV

I walk home slowly, the satchel holding my textbooks and homework bumping alongside my legs, loose strands of hair that have slipped from the braid slicing at my cheeks in the strong wind. I breathe out slowly, the air freezing on my lips as I glance to the side. A man in a trench coat and sunglasses speeds past, ramming into my shoulder.

"Watch it, girl!" He growls and continues to half walk, half jog in the opposite direction. I consider biting my thumb at his back- knowing the new insult from Shakespeare's Romeo and Juliet, a story we have just begun in English- but I refrain myself as I edge closer to my house.

With a father in the police force- the chief, to be precise- and a mother who earns a fair share as a doctor, a house in New York City isn't that hard to afford.

I wave to old Mrs. Gilbert who lives in an apartment building only three blocks from my home, her frail hands wrapped around a small green water bucket, giving the building's red petunias a long-needed drink. "Evening, Danny!" She shouts, waving back to me. I smile and nod back the welcoming, and she yells again. "Was your mother expecting a visitor? A man came by and asked for where she lived, but wouldn't tell me who he was..."

I lift a shoulder, continuing on my path, "Not that I know of. I'll ask when I get home."

I pick up the pace slightly, eager to take off my shoes and tell my mom the latest gossip from school, the newest mystery meat in the lunch line, and all about the cute guy who flirted with me today. Once I turn down my street, I can immediately sense that something is off, considering the fact that my mother always is outside when I arrive home, waiting to make sure i am safely back from school.

As I edge closer to my address, I stop at the mailbox to snatch the letters, bills, and advertisements from the metal can. I glance up, noticing that my front door is slightly opened, bright light from our kitchen pouring onto the small porch in the front.

I smile, chuckling to myself, thinking of a smart remark to make to my mom; she always chastises me for leaving the door open for too long. I reposition the satchel's strap on my shoulder, a grin plastered to my face as I skip the last few meters to my house.

"Mom! I'm home!" I yell and duck inside, slamming the door shut with purpose. "You are getting just as bad as me! You left the door halfway open!" I pause a beat, tossing the mail onto the granite counter top, and letting it slide a bit as I wait for my mom to respond.

"Mom?! I say I'm home! Aren't you going to tell me not to slam doors or something?"

I comb the stray hair from my face and throw my satchel onto the couch in the living room. "Mom!" I shout again, peeking my head into her bedroom, wondering if she is napping, but she is not in there either. Then, I poke inside the laundry room, the downstairs bath, and the game room.