[A/N: I've finished up on most of my major ongoing projects, so I should be able to wrap this up soon. Chapters may be a little shorter and there could be a couple of jumps for the sake of good flow in the story.

Again, I intend to actually finish this. We should be nearing the end, so sit tight and enjoy!]

Chapter 14: Revelations – The Little Girl

Pain was a very strange thing. It came in all sorts and shapes and forms, and Eleven knew she had encountered a great deal of them – in fact, her entire existence seemed to revolve around the very concept of constantly being hurt. She was born out of loneliness, brought up to hurt people and escaped by hurting people – this had all came back to her now, crawling up from the deep holes within her mind. And of course it had not taken long for her nature to catch up with her, even though she had been plagued with all these new emotions and she had met these strange people – eventually she would only end up hurting them, and that was exactly what she had done, hadn't she? Horrified at what she had done, she had fled into town, first stealing a box of eggos from a supermarket before settling down in the woods to still her hunger.

Her decision to step in and protect Mike had been merely instinctual. At least, that was what she tried to tell herself before the memories came flooding back in. Then she realized that while yes, her reaction had been mostly instinct, it originated from more emotions than she had originally thought – not just strange feelings for Mike (she would have called it love if she knew the actual word for it), but also anger, anger for the woman, to be exact.

And what kind of anger? Well, this had been a thing ever since Eleven started to recognize a striking similarity within the woman, a similarity between her and a strange odd man she had met in a not too far distant past – a man who had promised to save her when she most needed it. And what was that he had told her about his name? Doctor?

Well, yes, Doctor. That name means hope. Rescue. Saving civilizations and protecting the ones shackled by injustice and suppression. And if it comforts you, Eleven, that name means I'll come back for those who need it. Not many qualify for that, I admit, but hope does wonders.

It was the same kind of basic empathy that the woman had displayed – sincere, sacrificial – and so Eleven had finally realized they were one and the same person. Just after they had made her sonic screwdriver, she remembered. But even though she was reunited with the person who had originally promised to save her, she could find no real comfort in her presence; it was almost as if something was holding her back from completely trusting the Doctor. But what? Why was she having such a hard time trusting this lovely, bubbly creature, whose only priority had been helping them? Was it because of something she had seen? Something she had felt?

No – none of those things. It was solely because she remembered; a broken promise, a cold lie, and the loneliness, of course. Always the loneliness. And the pain, not to forget. That was what it had all begun with, after all.

Papa was once again staring at her with his cold, dark eyes. She was back in the testing room with him, although this time he was not interrogating her about the strange man or what they had talked about. After the experiment with the Coca-Cola can, Eleven had been so naive to think that she had actually pleased him, that he had forgiven her and things would go back to normal again, until the Doctor would arrive to save her, of course. By all means, it all seemed perfectly logical, so why wouldn't it be?

And granted, things had been fine until the Bad Men came to drag her out of the empty room. Papa had warmly greeted her, and he had told her he had a nice surprise waiting for her if she could successfully complete today's experiment. There was a covered box-shaped thing on the table and Eleven had found herself actually rather eager to see what was in it. If she managed to impress him, perhaps it would be easier to find some sort of possibility for the Doctor to come back and save her. Oh, would you imagine!

Seeing the rat for the first time hadn't change much about all those thoughts, although she had to acknowledge the slight hint of uneasiness it inflicted. After all, this was the same man who had kept her locked away for the entirety of her life, and on multiple occasions had also hurt her; so why should she expect anything else this time around?

To no surprise, she was proven right. His instruction had been remarkably simple. Kill. No special exercises, no exceptional points of interest she should keep in mind, just kill it. Eleven hadn't struggled at first because she hadn't particularly killed anything or anyone before, nor did she understand the concept of death very well. So she had tried to harm it, to cause so much hurt it would eventually stop, where it would simply be dead, as Papa had told her, at least.

But the pure terror that started to fill her as soon as she saw the poor little thing contorting and crying out in pain as she unleashed her powers on it had downright shocked her. It was just not the basic emotion of empathy and compassion; she now also had a front seat at a full demonstration of what her powers could actually achieve. Without a doubt, this was also what the Doctor had meant when he stared at her with that ominous glance in his eyes, when he had mentioned everything about always being a step ahead of all your enemies yada-yada. So was this who she was? Was she meant to hurt people?

The sheer shock of it had sent her into a frenzy. "No!" she screamed as she tried to stand up and strong hands grabbed her arms. "No! I don't want to! Let me go! Let me go!"

But screaming didn't help, of course. It was just the same ritual as always; Papa giving the men a small, understanding nod, hands dragging her (rather painfully) away, a long, dimly lit corridor. At the end was the open door of the empty room, almost as if it was waiting for her.

Sure. Because it always did. It all started with the pain, and it all ended with the loneliness.

But it might have been the small glimpse at the extent of her powers, or the little bit of courage the Doctor had conjured up in her, or perhaps both, but suddenly, she wanted to resist. She wouldn't let the Bad Men lock her up this time, no, never again. They threw her in the room and moved to close the door behind her, but she didn't let them. Quickly crawling up from the floor and extending her hand, she concentrated one big bolt of power at them, the energy tickling at her skin and filling up the usual void of the empty room.

It worked. Perfectly.

The men started floating, almost as if a big invisible hand was picking them up, and then they smashed against the wall, the impact leaving a dimple of fractured bricks. Eleven stared at her work, lowering her hand. She didn't notice that the men weren't breathing anymore, or some of their limbs were twisted into various rather… unusual angles, she only had eye for the open door and the sudden openness of the long corridor.

And as if it had all been a cue: the slow, repeating vwooooorp-noise, growing louder until it ended in a sharp tud. Eleven felt like she was in a nauseating rollercoaster of emotions; she felt excitement, fear, anxiety. The Doctor returning had to mean something, right? It had to. He had finally found a way to get her out of this place and now he was coming to get her so they could escape to places she could only dream of. Finally free. Finally not alone anymore.

It was true; the Doctor's expression was actually a sort of excited when he popped his head out of the TARDIS. "You there, little human? We seem to be able to give it another shot. Took me some time, but I gave the telepathic circuits a nifty upgrade and –"

The rest of the words almost seemed to get stuck in his throat as he saw the mess and his eyes widened. Eleven couldn't directly read the emotions on his face, but only because the confusion struck her first. Only now the realization of what she had done caught up with her; she hadn't just pushed the men away, she had killed them. She gasped and fell backwards against the door. The euphoric feeling was replaced by a much stronger and deeper emotion; utter fear, this time not for Papa, the Bad Men or even the loneliness; fear for herself, for the monster she had become. And not just that, also the simplicity of how she turned into one. It had all happened so naturally she hadn't even noticed it.

But the Doctor was here. The Doctor knew what to do, he always did. Peeling her hands away from the door and extending them to the blue telephone box, she slowly started to walk towards him, muttering "Help, please" under her breath. She felt close to being on the verge of tears. "D-Doctor –"

The Doctor didn't do anything. Just stood there. Just as she was sure she could almost touch the wood, he started to reach out, his fingers sticking up one by one…

…then he was gone. So fast she didn't immediately notice. He quickly withdrew, slamming the door shut before the noise started again and wind tugged at her gown as the machine started to dematerialize.

"No!" she screamed as she pounded her fists against the now quickly disappearing wood. "Come back! Please!"

He didn't. As the TARDIS disappeared with a final distant whirring, she could feel desperation overtaking her as she sank to her knees. He had left her, and yet again she was alone, cold and alone in these dark, empty hallways.

Papa appeared again. He approached her, and she didn't resist as he carefully picked her up, allowing her to cry into his jacket. He carried her away, away from the empty room and the scene of death and destruction.

Other visions came into view, memories from a distant but terrifying past. The tank. The helmet, the darkness, the awful creature she had encountered there. It was still roaming around, looking for its prey; a young boy, cowering beneath a familiar control panel. Was that who'd they'd been looking for? Was that Will?

Then, reality came back to her, and Mike's slightly blurred face came into view. He was yelling something she had trouble understanding. It sounded like her name.

"El? Are you okay? El?"

"Mike, I'm sorry," she sobbed.

"Sorry?" He asked. "What are you sobbing for?"

"The gate. I opened it. I'm the monster."

"No. No, El, you're not the monster. You saved me."

She might. But she wouldn't be able to save them now. Not without the help of the woman - the man - that had betrayed her.