Warning: Post-traumatic Stress Disorder, panic/anxiety attacks
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Wanda lost track of time studying in the library. It was hard to keep track of the passing hours when one did not need to sleep much. When she eventually glanced down to her new phone, she found that she had been reading for over a day. She blinked in shock. It would explain why her eyes felt so tired. She looked back to her sheet of yellow paper in hand, the prophecy of Trenzalore. She almost wanted to show it to Eleven whenever she saw him again, but she knew it was too soon for him to know of the prophecy. Not only this, but . . . something told her not to show him. A small twinge of dread went through her whenever she stared at it. It made her feel queasy.
Placing the prophecy away in a pant pocket, she stood up from her armchair. She placed away the book she had been reading, a book explaining the fundamentals of 'love.' She found the subject even more confusing than that of her mechanic books. It was a really hard subject for her to grasp. She had no idea why people seem to be infatuated within the overemotional response. It only seemed silly to her, really. What real purpose did 'love' have within a logical and rational world? She found she could not conceive an answer to this question which plagued her.
Walking down the corridor, she wandered back into the control room to see the Doctor in very much the same condition she had found him in last. He sat curled back up into his ball and sobbed away. She sucked in a breath, finding it painful to see him in such a state. She wished there were something she could do. But the only thing she could think of was to sit down next to him and gently rub his back. So, she did just that. They sat there for a long while with her rubbing his back soothingly with him lost within his own world of horrors.
After some time, he pulled himself out of the attack on his mentality. He lifted his head and blinked in surprise to her. Then he frowned.
"You're still here?" he questioned in annoyance.
"Oh, that's lovely. Great seeing you, too," she responded sarcastically. She let her hand drop away from his back. She stared at him for a moment, seeing how he refused to look her in the eye. The same sorrow still written on his face. Wanda sighed heavily, wishing there was something more of him that she could do. "I'm sorry you have to go through these things."
"Why do you care? You're nothing more than a figment of my imagination, a hallucination, a delusion," he stated curtly. "In fact, it only shows how mad I am by even responding to you." Wanda rolled her eyes.
"Okay, if I'm not real, then this won't hurt," she retorted sarcastically. She then promptly smacked him on the back of the head. He flinched, giving her a glare as he rubbed the back of his head.
"Oi, enough of that." The Doctor reached at her and returned a smack. She huffed and then sent him another smack in response.
This then turned into a small war between them. Each giving the other a smack in the back of the head. In the end, both smacked each other at the same exact moment. The way the Doctor looked at her, the expression on his face like a child not getting his way. This made Wanda pause. She snickered some, then giggled, and then went into a fit of laughter. She clutched at her stomach, rolling on the floor on her back as she laughed away. The Doctor stared at her in bewilderment. A brow raised high at her.
"What the heck is so funny?" he asked her.
"You're face! That's what," she responded through her laughs, pointing him with a grin.
"You know what, I've changed my mind. You're the mad one here." He looked away from her, staring up to the ceiling, a distant expression clearly showing upon his face. Still going through the troubling turmoil of his mentality.
Wanda stopped her laughing after a bit, sitting back up next to him. She stared up with him to the ceiling. After a minute of silence, she spoke up quietly. "How long has it been . . . since the war?"
The Doctor grunted some. "You should already know this. You're my delusion."
Wanda rolled her eyes. "Humour me. How long?"
He did not answer for a moment, continuing to stare up into the ceiling in sadness. "Four months."
She did not speak some for a few minutes, digesting this information. "I'm sorry you had to be there alone for it all. I wish I could have been there for you."
"No, you don't. You don't really want to have been there. It was . . . horrific. The stuff of nightmares." The Doctor moved his gaze away from the ceiling, staring down to the grated floor with a haunted look in his eyes.
Wanda turned her head to stare at him, her own eyes swimming with a mixture of emotions. "I can't imagine what you had to go through."
"Good. I wouldn't want anyone to ever imagine it." He grew silent, staring with his own emotions mixing around in his eyes. "I keep trying to bounce back. I keep trying to move on, but . . . I just can't."
Wanda nodded slowly, understanding completely. "It's not something easily moved on from. It's going to take some time. Don't push yourself either. You need to heal at your own pace."
"That's going to be a long while at this rate. I just can't . . . I just . . ." He stared away from the floor, looking to his open hands instead. "Every time I think, today's the day I'm going to continue and move on. Every time I try to bring myself to travel again . . . I just break down. I can't . . . I can't do anything. I'm so pathetic." He lifted up his hands, gripping his head.
Wanda shifted closer to him, placing a firm and calm hand on his shoulder, wishing to assure and comfort him in some way. "No. Pathetic is when you go through these troubles and you don't try to move on at all. At least you're trying."
"Not hard enough. I just can't get past these stupid . . . breakdowns. I keep seeing flashbacks and them screaming in my head. Screaming, crying, begging, bleeding . . . burning." His hands on his head tightened as he seemed to be pulling away from the reality around him and back into his own hell of horrors within his mind.
Wanda stiffened, seeing how he was lapsing back into a mental attack. She stared around, looking to the console. An idea popped into her head. She stood up, going over to a grate by the console and pushed it aside. Some wires here and there were frayed and roughed up, needing repairs. She smiled brightly.
"Here. Why don't you try working on the TARDIS? It might help you get your mind off these things," she suggested. The Doctor let go of his head and looked up to her, frowning some.
"Right. Like that's really going to help," he scoffed at her, disbelieving that working on the TARDIS would do any good at all.
"You never know. It might. Keeping your hands busy tends to let your mind stay focused and not drift to unwanted thoughts," she countered. He rolled his eyes.
"No. I'd rather not," he said firmly, going back to stare at the ceiling.
Wanda stared at him, then smirked some. "All right, then. I'll do the repairs myself."
The Doctor snorted, giving her a skeptical look. "You do that."
She slapped her hands together, rubbing them as if ready to get to work. "Okay, let's see. I think this goes here." She began to pull and move around some wires and gadgets at random. "And this . . . needs to be placed here." Some sparks came from under the grating. She yanked out a small device, staring at it in pretend surprise. "Oh, um, I guess she doesn't really need that." Wanda tossed it over her shoulder, continuing to pull around wires unsystematically.
The Doctor watched her with wary eyes. "Do you even know what you're doing?"
"Of course I do! Now, this must be . . . right red and yellow go together . . . I think. Oh!" The whole ship made a blaring sound and flashed lights around madly the moment Wanda connected the two wires together.
The Doctor hastily went over to her, undoing what she had done. The TARDIS settled down, going back into a quiet hum. He glared at the sheepish looking Time Lady.
"What do you think you're doing?! You could have killed us," he barked at her. He pushed her aside, going to work on the electronics Wanda had tinkered on. "Look at the mess you made. You mixed up all the accelerator wiring. Now I have to clean up."
Wanda sat there, watching him with a smile as he got busy working. He had her give him the small device she had tossed, placing it back in the right spot. The rest of the time, Wanda grinned away as he continued to fiddle with the TARDIS console. He even went far past the small spot Wanda had messed with, moving to fiddle with other areas as he muttered away. At some point he paused in his work, glancing over to her.
"You did that all on purpose, didn't you? You knew exactly what you were doing," he spoke up, sounding somewhat annoyed, but also amused in a small way. Wanda gave him a sly grin.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," she replied cheekily. He snorted, going back to fiddled with the TARDIS.
A few weeks went on like that. Whenever he would start to breakdown, Wanda had him working on the TARDIS to distract him. Many times, like the first day, he refused in the beginning. But he soon realized every time he refused, Wanda would retaliate by messing things up. After that, he did not argue with her and simply did as she directed, going into a routine of fiddling around and fixing things that did not really need to be fixed. Soon, he grew to do it on his own. Not needing for her to suggest it to him. Whenever he began to feel flashbacks or a breakdown coming on, he went to work and found that Wanda had been right. It really did help.
Then, one day, Wanda walked in the control room to find the Doctor almost passed out next to the console. He stared around blankly, blinking slowly. He shook his head every few moments as if trying to keep himself awake. Wanda frowned heavily, marching up to him.
"What are you doing?" she asked him.
"Nothing," he muttered sleepily.
"Don't lie to me. I know sleep deprivation when I see it. How long has it been since you slept?" she questioned him.
"I don't know . . . six weeks maybe," he mumbled tiredly, rubbing at his face as if hoping to snap himself out of his fatigue.
She gasped in shock. "Six weeks! That's much too long! You're going to straight to sleep right now." She reached down and pulled him up. The Doctor stumbled some, swaying on the spot and blinking rapidly.
"I'm not doing anything. I'm not even t-tir-ed," he yawned loudly during his last word, frowning when his body betrayed him.
Wanda gave him a piercing gaze of cynicism. "Oh, yes, you are. You're going straight to sleep and getting some rest. You need it." She marched him down the corridor, going instinctively to her room.
The Doctor frowned at the sight of the wooden door. "Why are you bringing me here?"
"It's a much cozier place than your room." Wanda pushed the door open, leading him to the bed. "Now, lie down and go to sleep."
"I'm not sleeping." The Doctor remained firm by the bed, refusing to even sit down.
"Yes, you are." Wanda remained firm herself, trying to force him down.
"No, I'm not. I can't sleep. Every time I do . . ." He stopped abruptly, staring dejectedly at the thought.
Wanda paused from pushing him to the bed, staring up to him curiously. "What happens every time?"
He did not answer for a long few minutes, staring off distantly. "I have . . . horrifying nightmares."
Wanda stared at him, feeling empathy for him. She held onto his hand gently, giving it light squeeze. "I'm sorry. I understand, I really do. But you need to sleep. You can't keep fighting it."
He sighed heavily. "I know." But he still lingered by the end of the bed, seeming almost afraid to move.
Wanda glanced to the bed and back to him, remembering what Ten had said once during their day of rest. "Here. I know how to help." She went over to the bed, kicking off her boots and throwing her military jacket onto an armchair. She scooted herself under the covers some.
The Doctor raised a brow. "What exactly are you doing?"
"I'm sleeping, too. Statistically speaking, the warmth of a body can help a person through troubled sleep. So," she patted the other side of the bed, "I'll join you."
He frowned, staring at the side she patted. "I don't think so. I barely even know you."
"I thought I was nothing more than a delusion? Am I now promoted to being real?" She grinned at seeing the way he rolled his eyes at her.
He crossed his arms, staring her down in refusal to budge from his firm stance. "I'll admit you're real. Doesn't mean I like having you around."
"That's all good and fine. But you need sleep, and since R—um, no one else is here, you can use me for comfort." She winced when she had almost given away a spoiler. That was one thing she always refused to tell the Doctor, information on future companions. She would give some sneak peeks to events they had done together or even to future incarnations of himself. Only small portions of information, but nothing more than that. It would only ruin things if she told him too much.
"Fine, but don't be shocked when I wake you up shouting," he huffed, going over to the other side. He threw off his own leather jacket and shoes, going under the covers.
It did not take him long to drift off. He really had been so exhausted. Wanda stared at him for a moment, looking to the dark circles under his eyes and how sickly he appeared to be. She had not noticed before until now. He really had let himself fall into a pit of despair. She silently promised him she would do whatever it took to help him out of this. To help him back into a better life than the one he lived now. No matter how long it took.
She began to drift off herself, slowly easing into sleep. Only to snap back into alertness to when she heard the Doctor begin to groan. His face scrunched up and his hands tightened on the covers. He began to shake and moan in dismay as his nightmares hit him with a force. Wanda tensed, wondering what she could do to ease his pain. She lifted her hand, beginning to gently stroke the side of his face. When that did not seem to help enough, with him still moaning out in distress, she hummed a soft melody along with her slowly caressing his face. She held her breath as she did so, hoping it would help.
It seemed to work, with his face gradually relaxing and going silent from his moans. He eventually breathed in and out evenly, going into a restful sleep. She smiled brightly, letting her hand fall away as she felt happy that she had helped him. She blinked slowly, starting to feel very tired herself. She began to drift off again when the Doctor began to toss and turn, moaning in distress once more. Wanda sighed, lifting up a hand and started to sooth him once again.
Wanda continued the process throughout the night. Every time she felt ready to fall asleep, the Doctor's nightmares would begin. And each time this happened, she would immediately wake up and comfort him. Eventually, she made sure to keep herself awake, determined to ensure that he had a goodnight's sleep for once. She lay there, stroking his face and humming the melody as he sweated slightly from whatever horrors he was seeing, praying that he would pull through this.
Wanda did not know how many hours passed. It almost felt like a full day before the Doctor woke up again. He blinked around somewhat sleepily. Yawning as he sat up from the bed. He stretched and sighed in content, seeming to have had the best sleep in a while. Wanda smiled lightly, happy by the sight. He stared over to her, blinking some.
"That's surprising. I actually had a good rest there," he said, sounding quite pleased.
"That's good," Wanda replied, yawning loudly. The Doctor raised a brow at her.
"What? Did you not sleep well?" he asked her.
"I haven't gone to sleep yet," she told him, rolling over to lay on her other side as she made herself comfortable.
The Doctor blinked in surprise. "Why haven't you slept?"
"I made sure to stay up so you wouldn't have nightmares." She yawned again, starting to drift. "You didn't have any, did you?"
"No. No, I didn't have any." He stared at her in bewilderment, unsure why she would do such a thing. It seemed very strange to him.
"That's good. I'm glad." She mumbled slightly before finally fall asleep.
The Doctor stared at her for a moment, watching her breath in and out evenly in her peaceful rest. Shaking his head some, he got up from the bed, finding the Wanderer to be a very peculiar and unusual Time Lady. He wondered when her memories would start coming back. He would like to find out who she was exactly. Once she got past believing that she was human from another universe, he would love to find out more about the real Wanderer. For now, he would deal with the strange and fake one.
XxXxXxXx
"Eat."
"No."
"Eat."
"No."
"Eat."
"I am not eating."
Wanda and the Doctor currently sat in the kitchen, arguing over whether or not he should eat. She kept telling him to eat while he only repeated 'no' each time. It had been three months since Wanda had been helping him with his nightmares at night. She would stay up, constantly comforting him while he slept. At any moment that she saw him starting to scrunch his face or moan as if in pain, she would immediately go into stroking his face and humming the melody. She was very glad she had learned this trick from her mother when she had been young. It seemed to be the only thing that worked for him, really. Then each time, he would wake up, well rested, and she would fall asleep right after. He always sent a strange look at her when she finally rested herself, but would never say anything to this.
It eventually came clear to Wanda that he had not been eating properly since the Time War. Only eating a few nut bars or pieces of fruit. Nothing very filling or exactly 'healthy' for him. No wonder he seemed so sickly. As soon as Wanda realized this, she whipped up a barrage of dishes for him to eat. She forced him into the kitchen and pushed him down on a dining chair. She then promptly sat all the dishes in front of him (mostly pasta) and sat down across from him. He folded his arms, staring her down. And this is where they remained.
"I said 'eat,'" Wanda said sternly.
"And I said 'no,'" the Doctor retorted. "I don't need to eat. I'm not even hungry."
"Yes, you are. You just don't want to admit it," Wanda countered.
"I'm fine with some health bars. That's all I really need," the Doctor continued to argue with her. Wanda huffed, spooning up some of her own pasta in front of her. She held the spoon up, bending it back to aim the pasta at the Doctor.
"If you don't take at least one bite, I'm gonna chuck this at you," she said firmly. The Doctor narrowed his eyes at her.
"I'd like to see you try," he responded, using a tone as if to dare her to. Wanda smirked then let the pasta fly.
It hit him square in the face, right between the eyes. The pasta slowly slid down his face, landing in a plop on the table. The Doctor stared at her in disbelief, as if he would have never expected anyone to ever actually do that to him. Then he stared angrily at her. Wanda waited, still holding the playful smirk on her face. She watched as he grabbed his own spoon, getting a portion of pasta in front of him. He raised it up, aiming it at her.
"You wouldn't," Wanda said the same tone as he had used. He raised a brow and launched the pasta. It made a splat sound against her face, right on her forehead. She waited until it fell to the table before she scooped up another spoonful of pasta. She grinned playfully at him. "It is so on."
It turned into a massive food fight between the two of them. Any food that Wanda had made turned into a weapon. She threw most of the pasta at him while he countered with the cakes. She giggled throughout the entire time while he grinned. The first real smile she had seen on his face since arriving here. She smiled brightly upon seeing it. By the end of their 'fight', most of the food ended up on the floor and themselves. The Doctor had pasta all over his face and clothes, while Wanda had smashed cakes on her. She swiped a small portion off her cheek, giving it a taste.
"Yum, facecake," she said cheerfully. The Doctor snorted, then chuckled, and then he threw back his head with a burst of laughter. She grinned at him, giggling along. "What's so funny?"
"Ha! You're face, that's what," he replied through laughter. She laughed along with him, finding it hilarious that he would use the same response she had used once.
After that day, the Doctor began to eat properly once again. He even began to smile and laugh more with a small glimmer of light returning to his blue eyes. A spark to which had been missing since the Time War. And now, it was slowly returning.