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He's mine.

(unreasonable girl)

He's mine! He made me, he's responsible. I wouldn't be here if not for him. I wouldn't be at all. He owes me.

(don't you have that backwards?)

No! I didn't ask to be made. I didn't ask to be different. I can't just get along; there's no one else like me, not in this universe or the next. No one but him.

(He had no choice either.)

He did. He could have stopped them.

(He couldn't. He didn't know.)

Still. He left me. After all he said, he left me behind.

(He didn't know. You were dead.)

He should have known. He's supposed to be so smart.

(No one knew. No one could have known.)

Of course not. I'm different! But I am the way I am because of him. His DNA. His fault. He shouldn't have left me. He should have known. He should have guessed.

 

I wanted to be like him, to travel and see the universe. So many worlds. But always alone... that I could never manage. I didn't have his way with people. The other side of me, the soldier, would never let me. I was born to be cautious, suspicious, dangerous. Death to relationships. Sometimes, literally death. Death herself. I was a wandering angel, doomed to solitude. The joy of travel palled, when every adventure ended the same way: alone.

 

So I began to seek him out. We were alone together, he and I, the last of our kind. I found traces of him in the ether, and I followed them. It wasn't easy; in all of space and time, to find one particular being might as well be impossible. But I had time. I was immortal; I had resources. One day, I knew, I would succeed. But the means of my success startled even me.

 

I was so close, certain I had him at last. I had seen the blue box. It dropped into a wormhole before my eyes; my ship, an extension of my own body, plunged after it. The void streamed out around us. I kept him in my sights, that blue box, as it weaved and dodged among the whirls and eddies of time. I gunned the drive and nearly had them. Then with a blinding flash, the blue box was gone. Out of time and space. I punched back into realspace; drifting in nowhere, surrounded by nothing, the soldier let go and the little girl cried.

 

When I looked up again, there it was.

 

The blue box, just drifting. All alone in the universe. Quickly I scanned it. Time Lord DNA - but it was wrong. It wasn't him. It was something else. All at once a mad rage came over me. Had he made another one? Left me behind and created something else to take my place? I activated the ship's defensive cannons, boiling, seething to destroy my rival, to wipe her and all evidence of her from existence. My fingers closed on the trigger, ready to squeeze, to obliterate the infuriating blue box once and for all - and I couldn't. My hand would not obey. I screamed, bellowing out my anger into the emptiness, willing my fingers to tighten; but they would not. I dropped my hand and wept again.

 

I could not risk his death.

 

When the tears subsided, the wave of fury ebbed, I ran my scans again. One life sign. Time Lord in origin, somehow, but not a Time Lord. Not a child of one, even as I was. She was something else. I focused the scan. Human, but not. Modified somehow. I frowned at the readouts, perplexed. She was nothing I'd ever seen.

 

And then she exploded.

 

Light filled my screen, brighter than any sun. In the same instant a wave of energy crashed into my ship. The sound of it burst my ears. The universe seemed to shatter. We bounded across space and time, every wave and rivulet magnified a thousandfold, bucking and hurling us through millennia, light years in every direction. Out of control we flew, thrown violently back and forth, the void spinning impossibly around me. My head thumped against the padded seat, my neck tweaked painfully. My harness wrenched my chest and waist, tore my shoulders from their sockets. Fairy lights danced in my eyes. Ruptured metal screeched. I saw Death in all her finality reaching for me; I could not raise my arms to bat her hands away. Instead I screamed, cursing her, cursing him, cursing the universe that held my dearest wishes so tantalizingly out of reach. I screamed, my throat burning, as blackness settled on my vision and silence on my ears, as the ship compressed around me and Death's grip closed upon my soul.

 

And then I woke up.

 

For a moment I knew nothing. I was new-born, opening my eyes in a strange, dark, and peaceful world. I was cradled in warmth and tranquil numbness.

 

Slowly sensation returned, and with it, knowledge. I felt the gentle pressure of the harness against my chest, the chair at my back familiar and comforting. My hands rested on my belly. A remote ache crept up on my awareness, its fingers creeping up through my shoulders and neck and down along my spine. A wave of nausea ran through me. I closed my eyes, dizzy, and felt a breath of cool air on my face. The scent of green, living things pierced the haze of smoke and fumes rising from the wreckage around me. I opened my eyes again, and this time I saw stars. Real stars, in a real sky, not dancing fairy lights. I was on a world. A world of life, of air I could breathe, flowing in through the shattered cockpit glass around me. I fumbled for the catch on my harness, and the thick straps fell away. My skin burned where they had touched me. I reached upward, groping for a handhold, a way out, finding nothing. Safety glass shattered under my hands; warped metal burned. The ache in my back grew, reaching up into my head, blinding me. I let my hands fall gently to my sides and lay still, breathing great lungfuls of the fresh living air, willing my body to obey me.

 

Instead, darkness settled over me once more.

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