Arcadia's Love (Book TWO)

Wanted

"Can we come in?"

Mrs Rossiter pulled the door so that she was only a head. "Course not. You could be anyone."

"We could be, but we're not." The Doctor smiled, still trying the charm offensive. Doctor, we are in a council estate in London, these people are trained to shut doors. "I'm the Doctor and this is my wife, Seraphina." And then the door was slammed in our faces.

We tried a few more doors, then watched Amy and Rory talking to each other going past a little boy peering out of his window, looking terrified at what they were saying. Gotcha.

"Hey. Any luck?" Ames called across to us, seeing that I was sat on the balcony, the Doctor's arms around my waist. He was always scared when I did things like that, mostly because of my old bi polar, when I would have needlessly taken the risk and jumped across. My old softy.

"Three old ladies, a traffic warden from Croatia and a man with ten cats."

"What are we actually looking for?" Rory asked, looking a little fed up of being here.

"Ten cats." I repeated, shaking my head. I loved cats, I was sorta a giant one right now, and I couldn't afford that many vet bills. "Scared kid, remember?"

"I found scary kids" Amy suggested, making me smile a little. "Does that count?"

"Er, try the next floor down. Catch you later." The Doctor told them, pulling me backwards off the faded white concrete and onto my feet again. They nodded their agreement and headed towards the lift while we knocked on the little boys front door, flashing the psychic paper as soon as his dad came to the door.

He blinked in confusion as he looked at the paper, then back at the pair of us. "Oh. Right. That was quick."

"Was it?" We both checked the paper, then nodded to ourselves.

"Claire said she'd phone someone. Social Services." We absently agreed with him. "It's not easy, you know, admitting your kid's got a problem."

"You've got a problem. I've got a problem. I bet they're connected, I'm the Doctor. Call me Doctor, this is my wife/partner Seraphina, you can call her Sera. What can we call you?" He was rambling and he knew it.

"Alex."

"Hello, Alex." I smiled, stepping inside the door pulling the Doc with me. "So, tell us about George." That was a complete guess, I saw the label on the nearest room.

A little while later we were looking through the family albums, making me think that we should probably make some up for ourselves. They let me keep one photo of my daughter as a baby, and I cherished it.

"Ever since he was born he's been a funny kid." Alex explained to us, stood up while we were say down.

I looked up at him, a little confused. "Funny's good. We like funny, don't we?"

"He never cries." He continued, not really listening to us. "Bottles it all up, I suppose. Tell him off, he just looks at you."

"How old is he?" The Doctor asked, taking my hand loosely.

"He was eight in January. I mean, he should be growing out of stuff like this, shouldn't he?"

"Maybe." I agreed, subconsciously thinking about what Melody may have been up to at age 8. I would never know. "It's got worse, though lately?"

"Yeah. We talked about getting help. You know, maybe sending him somewhere. He started getting these nervous tics. You know, funny little cough, blinking all the time. But now it's got completely out of hand. I mean, he's scared to death of everything."