It had been a few hours since Eleven and Oswin had dropped me off, running after my future self. That mattered little to me at this point, because I was nose deep in the journal my future self had given me. It was mostly just a bio, from the look of it. A picture of my first self was taped to the page after Reichenbach, which I thought was alright.
Terra One looked a bit mousy. Her hair was a light ash brown, falling down in waves to her mid back. She was dressed in a light green blouse, white undershirt, and tan cargo pants. It was a good style, made her seem more down to earth. She didn't have earring holes, so that was one less thing to worry about.
Attached to her waist was a pocket watch, a gold one too. I could probably find it in my bag.
There were other photos. Some group shots, of Terra One with her family. My future self had put labels on the photos.
'Thelma Luna. Mom. Human. Deceased.' I frowned at that tidbit. She had long ash brown hair, though it was held back by a headband. She had deep brown eyes, almost the same shade as her hair. She wore a black t-shirt, black skinny jeans, teal blue shoes, and an artist smock covered in paint. She was wearing the same necklace Terra One was wearing.
The woman beside her was standing very close, relationship close. Her hair was cut into a pixie cut, water blue eyes, a pale blue shirt, and Mom Jeans. 'Leanna Johnson. Mum. Human. Deceased.'
That made me Terra Luna-Johnson. Ew. No. Too long winded. Terra Luna sounds too 70's, so I'll just go with Johnson. Terra Johnson, good name.
The last woman had to be related to the blonde. 'Aunt Chloe Johnson. Human. Deceased.' She had blonde hair, water blue eyes, and was dressed in a gray pantsuit.
No siblings, no cousins, my uncles, maybe some grandparents. Wow, this family was interesting. I love it. You're probably wondering why I'm focusing on them, going into great detail this seemingly normal family. Because on the next page there was something completely gruesome.
Their murders.
Three women in their late thirties to early forties, all torn apart in their house. Leanna was murdered at the door, Thelma in their living room, and Chloe died protecting Thelma.
Leanna was shot first, probably just to get her out of the way. The unsub didn't care about her, she was just a means to an end. Plus, it created fear in the other two victims. Chloe was a sort of target, a warning shot fired in her left leg to wound her but not kill. The kill shot was to her face, the man hated her. It was personal with her. Thelma's murder had been getting rid of a witness, simple but painful shot to the heart.
The real awful part was that they weren't photographed where they died. Their bodies were posed. Leanna and Chloe were posed at the dinner table, heads laying down as if they fell asleep before they could eat. Thelma was draped over the counter as if cooking a meal.
This could have been the killers way of saying he hated same sex marriage, keeping the married couple apart, but his quick killing of them didn't look like a hatred of that. They were executions, as if he wanted something they were protecting. That was why Chloe got it worse, because she had been protecting Thelma.
They were killed because they took care of me. They died because they became my family, and the sick bastard moved their bodies as if they were dolls to play with!
It was Logan. He was the only lead I had, the only person I knew who would want to kill me this badly. Torchwood may have had some part of it, but if Jack caught wind of it he would have protected them. The Silence may have eliminated them, but they wouldn't have made a show of it. They weren't the type to leave a body, if it was done then it was done. Logan was the guy behind it. The moving of the body suggests a sense of pride, he was arrogant as he move them. Logan knew he had all the time he needed, so he had a little fun.
This family died because they were involved with me.
'If you hadn't come here, would those people still be alive?' Matron Joan's words came to me.
Turning the page in the journal, I forced away the thought of the slaughter. There were years and years to deal with that, I had to deal with the now.
The journal went on to explain the guidelines for the next few weeks, until the Doctor found out I was a Time Lord. It was similar to my own story of being the only Jumper. Sad stuff, sad stuff.
I had been bullied as a child. My classmates would call me names, make me cry, and caused some deep trust issues. Words like freak and weirdo were tossed around, mostly in my face. I was the new kid stereotype (seriously. It was so bad even other new kids made fun of me). Once, I was pushed down the stairs. Those hurt a lot more in the real world than in the cartoons.
The journal went on to explain the personalities of my human family. Let's see how shortly I can describe them. Thelma was an artist, like my aunt back Home. Leanna was an elementary school teacher, like my mother back Home. Aunt Chloe was a fangirl, who enjoyed Star Trek and Star Wars and pretty much every other sci-if thing you can think of. Oh, and Harry Potter.
There was one subject that made me slam the journal shut, and throw it across my motel room in horror.
Back in my nineties, I had a horror movie phase. It had been fun for a bit, laughing at all of the stupid teenagers for being stupid teenagers. Then, I went a little on the extreme side. It had been a dark time for me, and I needed to do something good for someone.
30 Days of Night. Thirty days of no stop vampires, waiting to feed on the townspeople. It's not a time I like thinking about.
And that stupid book just told me to tell the Doctor about it.
What the fuck Future Me?!
Okay. Time to distract. What's the perfect way to distract a freshly regenerated Time Lady?
Shopping!
London had a lot of interesting shops, but I had interest in one. Henrick's department store. It was an easy enough find, a quick search on google maps.
I walked into the store, holding my bag close to my body. I was on edge for some reason, and I did not like it.
There she was. Rose Marion Tyler.
Even though I've been doing this job a long time, in the first few seconds I get a little star struck. That feeling you get of pure rush, like seeing an old friend, though it fades when they look you in the eyes and have no idea who you are.
Rose Tyler. Rose Tyler! She looked young, and completely bored. This was Rose Tyler, the Bad Wolf, Defender of the Earth, the Doctor's unspoken girlfriend. Jackie's daughter! This is a girl who made a Dalek nice! Rose Tyler made a dimension cannon to help the Doctor defeat the Daleks and their Reality Bomb!
And...she was working in a shop.
'Not every superhero has a cool backstory.' Smirking, I walked up to the blonde shopgirl. I tapped her shoulder.
She looked up at me. Rose Tyler was looking at me!
"I need a new wardrobe." I said, trying to fight off my urge to scream like a little girl. I was a professional. I would behave as such...until I was alone. I pulled out a debit card. "I got mom's card, and an entire afternoon free."
Rose grinned, her tongue on tooth smile. It was a mischievous smile, same for the glint in her brown eyes. Get yourself together, Johnson! You're on a case! "Ah, I remember those days." She guided me over towards some of the teen clothing.
Dear Story, there was a lot of pink.
I turned to Rose, as if questioning her directions. "I would not be caught dead in pink." My tone was flat, almost condescending. "Got anything dark purple?"
Rose thought about it. She looked me over, seemingly thinking about me in purple. "Yeah. I think purple would look great on you, and we got some right over here."
Right beside the wall of pink, there were darker colors. Dark reds, blues, greens, blacks, and Thank the Story there was purple! I ran up to the wall, practically bursting at my luck.
I turned to Rose, smirking with a mischievous grin. "Let's get shopping."
The first outfit I walked out in was a dark purple tank top, dark blue camisole, and black jeans.
Rose flinched at it.
I nodded in agreement. "Next."
A pair of cut up jeans, purple top, and a blue hoodie. It wasn't as bad as the first, but still off.
"Alright. Be honest with me." I said, looking in the mirror.
Rose shook her head, walking up to me and helping me take off the hoodie. "Blue's just not your color."
I nodded. "Nope." I shrugged off the jacket. "Take three!"
Black. We went mostly all black, with just a purple tank top as any other source of color.
Rose and I stared at my reflection.
"No."
"Definitely not."
"It looks-"
"Terrifying, I concur. I would burn it with fire but that means having to buy it."
"Take four?"
"You catch on quick."
This last outfit was perfect.
A black tank top, with blue jeans, and a purple hoodie. Four is a lucky number of mine. I looked good, and Rose agreed.
I made the purchase, buying three more of each new item of clothing. The next few stores I bought more of what I liked. I bought arm guards, a cheap purple watch from CVS, and a bunch of black headbands. The last store got me a pair of purple loafers, as well as a bajillion pairs of socks.
All in all, I felt awesome.
Once my clothes were settled, and I wasn't wearing that annoying shade of green, I set to getting some food.
Burgers, now those were a plus. I was obsessed with greasy food now, apparently. Fruit was a mixed thing, I hated pears (I think that's just a Time Lord thing) but loved peaches. I tried fish and chips, that gravy they added in is magical.
Some of my original self stayed. I still liked adventures, that rush of stopping a bad guy's evil plans. I was still good at tinkering, in at least building things relieves stress. I love cop shows, but all the ones I like don't come out until September. My favorite band doesn't even come out for another year! That's a real downer.
So, I felt completely sure of myself. Terra Two had herself figured out. Liked purple hoodies, arm guards, headbands, burgers, and peaches. What else was there to know?
My past. Right. That.
I was back in my motel room, lying out on my bed. The room was musty, maid service must suck in here. My new outfit helped against the February cold, which was worse in London. Scattered around the bed were various clocks I had taken apart.
"I don't need to think about First Day." I spoke into the quiet room. There was no response, though I don't know if I was expecting one.
Letting out a sigh, I picked up a clock that I hadn't taken apart yet. With a quick jerk, the clock split apart. This was yet another add on to Time Lord biology, I was strong.
"It was just a normal day, like all my other ones." I said to no one. Pulling the wires out, I grabbed one of the other half clock's parts. "Nothing needs to be talked about."
'You died today.' A dark voice in my head reminded me...one sounding awfully familiar.
I winced, shaking the voice away. My hands worked to distract me, trying to continue building a new device. "No I didn't. If I died, how am I still here?"
'You regenerated today. A thing Time Ladies are generally known for.' The voice reminded.
I shook it off again. "First day was totally fine. I need to get ready for the first episode, or else I'm screwed."
'You need to run.' The voice reminded.
"I did. I ran all the way to 2005." I argued, pushing gears into my new device.
'Time travel show. Do you really think he didn't follow you here?' The voice pointed out.
I paused. Shit, I hadn't thought of that. But could he though? It could be possible, lots of the bad guys here have access to time travel. What if Logan found a manipulator, or something, and followed me to 2005? Is it a big leap to assume so? How would I know if he was here? I didn't know anything about Logan.
'Liar.' The voice chirped.
"I know he's a maniac." I said. My hand started gripping tightly onto the device I was building. "I know he's stalking me. I'm probably the only person he sees as a challenge, like how Moriarty saw Sherlock."
My eyes darted to the journal, remembering the brutal images of the Johnson family murders. "Sadistic. He enjoyed moving them, enjoyed the fear he put in them. The fear he's putting in me." I curled my legs under me, almost kneeling on the bed. "He's a narcissist, based off his bragging with the telepathy. He was talking to two different version of myself, and he sounded perfectly calm."
I shuddered as the words echoed in my mind, the ones he spoke. 'I want you to be afraid of me, so that I can do what I want with you.' There was a phantom feeling of the harsh feeling of his mind forcing itself into my own. It all just felt too real, too personal.
It didn't matter now. I was only getting paranoid. Logan isn't my biggest issue right now. The Ninth Doctor is. Mister Big Eared and Leathery. I need to work out how to explain my past, help him in the present, and stay with him for the future, all in a month. As soon as I get the chance, I can worry about Logan.
I have three whole lifetimes to deal with him. Logan can wait.
'Liar'