Chapter 11:

John and Donna sat next to one another while on the Underground. They each held their old backpacks on their laps, hugging them as they leaned into each other's bodies. Each backpack held a change of clothes, their laptops, and other necessities that neither wanted to leave behind. It was a good thing that Wilf didn't notice that 'Martin' was using John's backpack, but why would he? Wilf wasn't around his granddaughter and her best friend enough to notice.

The Tube was eerily empty; most people didn't feel safe leaving their homes when there was a UFO hovering above the city of London. That was perfectly understandable. Yet only a few lone souls were brave enough to venture outside, and Wilf had been one. The older man sat across from Donna and John's seats, slumped over with the day's newspaper in hand. He read it, but would occasionally give the two youths a glance to see if they were alright, John in particular.

The two friends had tried to whisper to each other when they had first entered the Tube, but they soon gave up when they realized that Wilf could hear them. Soon they settled into a slightly awkward silence where they could only glance with each other, knowing too well that the conversations they wished they could hold were too sensitive for wandering ears.

"So, Mr. Noble . . ?" John started.

"Please Marty, Mr. Noble was Donna's father. Feel free to call me Wilf." Wilf said, looking up from an interesting article in the paper.

"Okay then, Wilf. Can you tell me how long the spaceship has been up in the sky?" John asked.

"Well, at least since yesterday. But because of the poor weather, no one really knows when that god awful thing came." Wilf said, eyes returning to the article. Still his voice held the conversation. "And we're getting no response from the government. They can't tell us a bloody thing."

"So what, it's just been hovering above London? No demands, no abductions?" Donna asked.

Wilf answered with an uncertain "No" simultaneously as John said "Not yet at least."

Their short conversation left Donna and John practically staring in the darkness of the Underground's tunnels for the ride back to Chiswick. The ride seemed to take an eternity, especially with that thought stuck in their head. However, when John was just beginning to fidget from boredom, the automated voice informed the passengers that their step was next. For John, the voice over the speakers was an angel, and he let out a relieved breath. Wilf heard his sigh and look up from his newspaper.

"Are you sure you're alright boy? You still look a little pale in the face." Wilf asked with a concerned frown. He folded the newspaper in half and then stuffed it into his coat pocket. Wilf leaned forward, using his hands on his knees for support. "Once we get back to our house I'm sure Donna or Sylvia, that's Donna's mother by the way, can take you to the emergency room."

John shook his head swiftly as he raised a hand as if to stop Wilf from continuing. "I'm fine sir. It's just taking me a while to process that we have aliens in London. Again."

Wilf nodded and leaned back into his seat again. "I can understand your worry, son. I'm just waiting to see if they start destroying our city like last time."

"Oh God. I really hope that doesn't happen." Donna said in a hushed voice, but in the quiet train car, it sounded like she was yelling.

The train finally started to slow down, and then it stopped at the correct station. Simultaneously, the three stood up from their seats and exited the train. As they made their way up the steps, the train's doors closed behind them and it took off. The artificial light from below was replaced with bright sunlight, and John shielded his eyes with his freehand as he swung his backpack over a shoulder.

The young man took a second for his eyes to adjust, listening to the surrounding neighborhood as they did so. This was a quieter part of London was completely silent, and there didn't seem to be anyone else outside. Up in the sky, the flying saucer was considerably smaller. By the time that John could actually see clearly again, Donna and Wilf had already located their Toyota. John sped up his pace to catch up with the Noble's.

When John arrived, Donna was climbing into the driver's seat. Wilf was in the process of taking the passenger seat. The old man saw John and waved him over towards him. Wilf motioned for him to get into the back, where there was an empty space. Donna's backpack was already in the back, right behind her seat.

"Donna will drive us back. Just climb in the back Martin, and rest your head. We'll be back at the house in ten minutes." Wilf said just before he shut the door on himself.

John nodded and did as he was told. He opened the car door and sat down, not bothering to buckle himself in. John's head instantly made contact with the headrest, the somewhat soft fabric felt nice on his scalp. Donna glanced back behind her and nodded to John before starting the car.

Just like Wilf said, the drive to the Noble's house was short, however, it was longer than it ought to have been due to the poor road conditions. The white slush from the storm had Donna and other driver's taking it slow in order to prevent an accident. John didn't pay any attention, and the small conversation between Donna and her grandfather acted as nothing but white noise.

Finally, John felt the Toyota pull into Donna's driveway and come to a full stop. The engine was cut off, and the three exited the car. John swung his backpack back over his shoulder and went to stand by Donna. Better act as if he had never been to her house, or else Wilf would grow suspicious. Or worse, Sylvia.

"Right. Donna, can you show me the house?" John asked, trying to give her a hint.

Donna elbowed him in the side softly, telling him that she understood exactly what he was doing. She placed a hand down on John's shoulder and looked up at him before looking back at Wilf. He hadn't noticed their small interaction.

"Right, you've never been here before. I'll show you my room, where you can put your stuff." Donna said, leading John over to the front door.

"Donna, are you sure that's a great idea? Perhaps the guest bedroom would be better for your friend." Wilf said as he started to follow after the youths. His voice grew in seriousness when the two turned to give him identical quizzical looks. Wilf's voice was just above a whisper as he place his palm on the doorknob. "You don't want to give your mother the wrong idea about Martin."

John fought the urge to groan; instead, he made a face that scrunched up his forehead and nose. Donna seemed to have had the same battle, but she had lost. She groaned as she let her whole body visibly sag before straightening herself out. Donna then rubbed her temples and bit her lip before answering.

"Thanks granddad, but I'm sure we're mature enough to share a room together as friends." Donna said. "And if Mom can't handle two friends sharing a room, then she's the one that isn't mature. We'll be fine together, I promise."

Wilf didn't look convinced. He glanced over to John, who nodded his head in agreement.

"Cross My heart and hope to die." John said, going through the motions as he did so.

And with that, Wilf let out a small sigh as he opened the door. Wilf went to the kitchen and started to prepare himself a lunch, and fortunately there was no Sylvia in sight. At least, not yet. Donna dropped her backpack down onto a nearby couch and then quickly grabbed John's elbow, leading him to the family room.

Just like John had hoped, Donna gave him a small, quick showing of the layout of her house. As she did so, she quickly led John up the stairs and into her old room. John closed the door behind them and leaned against it. When John was sure that the door had closed securely, he let out a small breath of relief.

John took in her room. He had only been here a couple times, years ago back before the two rented the flat together. The room was small, housing a slim single bed, a dresser, and a desk with a combined small bookshelf. Many of Donna's old school textbooks were housed here, along with other school supplies she no longer needed.

"Well, that could have gone worse." John muttered under another heavy sigh. Donna nodded in agreement and sat down on her neatly, yet stiffly, made bed. John dropped his backpack down on the floor next to him and then stared up at her ceiling. And then John found himself sliding down the side of the door and onto the floor. His next few words came out soft, barely audible.

"Bloody aliens."

"John, I hate to say it." Donna started as she got up from the end of her bed. She paused for a brief second before deciding to come over next to him. Slowly, Donna sat down next to him. "I really do, but I think . . . I think my theory about you being an alien might be-"

"I know, I know! It can't be a coincidence." John said, almost snapping at Donna. He placed his face into the palms of his hands. John didn't continue, he was too distraught at the thought at the moment. Even now he could see that he was shaking slightly. He was not emotionally stable. He forced himself to calm down, and he sucked in a deep breath. Suddenly he had control over himself again. "There's a chance, possibly a good one, that I'm an alien. But . . . I don't want to believe it. I don't want it to be true."

"Hey, we don't know for sure yet." Donna said in a soothing voice. She started to rub small circles on John's back, hoping that this would calm him. It was working, and John started to calm down. Donna continued to rub his back. "The power is on here, we can get back to work. Or, the weather's not so bad, we can go somewhere and continue our research without Wilf or Mom watching our backs."

"Can we please?"

"Alright, we'll go right now."

But of course, it was at that moment when someone was trying to enter the room. The door smacked John's back, both startling him and causing him to cry out in pain. Instantly, the two friends scrambled back into a standing position. As they did so, a voice started grumbling to itself, even complaining.

The door opened, revealing a slightly miffed Sylvia Noble. The older woman quickly looked up at Donna and John, her face contorting into a scowl when she saw John's new face, obviously thinking that this was a person she had never met before.

"I thought I heard Wilf coming back. Welcome home, Donna." Sylvia said, with extra emphasis on her daughter's name.

She stepped into the room then, seemingly deciding to ignore John as she looked at Donna, head tilted. Immediately, her domineering presence clashed with Donna's, with Donna crossing her arms at her mother's tone of voice. John stepped into the background, already knowing that this reunion wouldn't be as nice as Wilf's had went.

"I must say, I expected John to be right behind your heels . . . or rather the other way around. You never leave that idiot's side." Sylvia continued, pausing to put more emphasis in her words, even spitting out John's name like it was acid. Sylvia gave Donna a raise of a single eyebrow as she crossed her arms to mirror Donna. "Where is that boy?"

"At a friend's." Donna said through gritted teeth. Her words were forced, letting her mother know through her tone of voice that she didn't appreciate how John was being discussed so crudely. If only her mother knew that John was in the room. "And John is not an idiot."

"He chased off your boyfriend! Attacked him at a restaurant in front of dozens!" Sylvia retorted out with quick, curt words. She even pointed a finger at Donna, as if that would help her prove her point. "Lance was a nice guy, and he left you because of John's antics!"

"Lance was a mistake, Mum." Donna responded curtly, her words still sounding like she was hurt. Like her mother had opened up forgotten wounds that haven't had the chance to heal. "And if it wasn't for John, I wouldn't know what would have happened to me, or where I'd be."

"With a fiancé, probably."

"Mother!"

"Fine, I'll stop badgering you. You did just come home after all, after a full year away at that flat of yours. Anyways, I just wanted you to know that lunch is ready if you want to spend it with your mother and grandfather." Sylvia said, literally waving away their conversation with her hand in the air.

She turned around on the balls of her feet and headed for the door. There, she finally spotted John, who was trying hide his slight irritation at the blonde woman. He hid it fairly well behind a cheeky smile that made his eyes squint. John even waved, for which Donna had to say she was impressed with the man's patience. Sylvia didn't return the smile, rather she looked back at Donna and gave the ginger another disapproving frown.

"And who is this?"

"Marty. Err, Martin Tyler." Donna forced herself to answer her mother. "He was staying at the flat when the storm hit. Wilf invited for him to stay with us."

Sylvia finally relented. She let out a huff of air that seemed to end their conversation. Sylvia's attention then turned to John. She took a few steps towards John, inspecting his new face and body. With a steely glare that would have affected most people, Sylvia was mentally sizing up the boy. Whatever internal conversation was going inside her head, it seemed to please her.

Surprisingly, Sylvia nodded at the boy. It seemed to be a nod of approval.

"Hello, Marty. If my father invited you to stay for the next few nights, then I guess I'll allow it." Sylvia said in a softer, yet more forceful tone than she had used on Donna. "Make yourself at home."

"Thank you so much." John said with a sickly sweet tone of voice that was accompanied by a fake smile. Donna could only smirk when John took Sylvia's hand in her and shook it vigorously. Perhaps too vigorously. "A complete pleasure to make your acquaintance, Miss . . ."

"Sylvia Noble. A pleasure to make yours." Donna's mother said with her own smile. And this one seemed genuine. "Please, come downstairs for lunch."

With that Sylvia finally left the two friends alone. John watched with his jaw going slightly slack; he was surprised to find that Sylvia had smiled at him, something that had never happened before. It seemed that Donna also was surprised, because she let out a small 'huh' before going to John's side.

"Was your mother just . . ." John couldn't finish the question.

"Yeah." Donna managed to say, sounding just as confused.

" . . . nice to me?"

"Mmm' yeah." Donna said, now nodding her head slowly.

"First I change bodies, then aliens are invading London." John paused to gulp. "And now this."

"Things have definitely changed. Come on, let's get downstairs before the food gets cold."

Surprisingly, lunch had been sandwiches. Donna and John quickly decided to eat on the go instead of dining with Donna's family. The two each grabbed a sandwich before head out the door once again. When they had been questioned by Sylvia why they were leaving, John instantly said that he needed to study for an upcoming test at the University. A complete lie, but neither Sylvia nor Wilf had caught on.

The two headed for the car, sandwiches in hand. Donna took a large bite out of hers as she entered the car. When she sat down, she held the sandwich in her mouth so that she could turn on the car. John climbed into the passenger seat as the engine began to sputter to life. John threw his backpack into the back seats before he reached for Donna's sandwich. He carefully held onto it as she backed out of the driveway and onto the road.

"Thanks." Donna muttered as she finally took her sandwich back from John.

"What are friends for?" John stated just before taking a bite out of his.

They finished their lunch in silence as Donna drove down the road. Occasionally John would look up from the crusty remains of his food and towards the still present UFO from high above. It's very presence was intimidating and nerve wrecking. Fortunately, Donna took a right hand turn, blocking John's view of the monstrosity. He did not dare turn his head backwards, but did nothing to stop him from thinking about it.

Donna drove them towards the closest public library. It seemed to be open due to the lights in the small place, but there was no one around. When Donna and John exited the car and opened the front door to the library, they only saw the middle aged librarian running the place. Other than that, it was completely empty. The old librarian looked up from his book and nodded at them when the two entered the main hall, footsteps breaking the silence.

"Hello there!" John said loudly, waving his hand at the librarian. The librarian placed his book down and leaned over his desk, keeping his eyes on John. "We're here to do some researcher for . . . ah, school. Is your internet working?"

"You're in luck, mate." The male librarian said. He stood up from his small desk and went over to the room on the right. He pointed through the large archway, his eyes still on Donna and John. "Our servers just went back up earlier this morning. There should still be a few open for you."

"Thank you." Donna said with a soft smile.

She tugged on John's arm, and then the ginger led him down the hall and towards the room. The librarian had spoken the truth: there was no one else in the library save for themselves and a stray teenager who was on Facebook. Donna and John took two computers that were located in the back corner of the room. As John booted up their computers, he found Donna looking through the window.

John glanced up at the window. A tree with leafless branches was blocking most of the view, but he could still see the edge of the sand colored spaceship. A shiver ran through him, and the John had the urge to close the curtains. He shot up out of his chair and grabbed the thin material in one sharp movement. Before Donna could react, John had whipped the curtain over the large window. Light still seeped through the thin fabric, but now their sight was blocked.

Donna was about to ask him what that was for. And then she saw the grim, unmoving look on his face, and she thought better of it.

"Right then . . . what should we look for first?" Donna asked as she quickly opened up Google.

"I honestly have no idea, Donna. Aliens? Alien sightings?" John muttered under his breath. He leaned back into his chair as his computer took forever to perform the same tasks Donna's was doing. "If I'm being completely honest, I don't know what we can look up that isn't the same from last time."

"You'll be the pessimist here, I'll be the optimist." Was Donna's retort.

John responded with a friendly shove. And then the two buckled down with their work. Donna's phone was up and charged in the back of her coat pocket. They knew their time here at the library was short; soon Sylvia or Wilf would call for them to return, and they would have to postpone their search for an even later date. But they paid little attention to their time constraints; soon they had launched themselves into several dozens of Internet forums, where every participator claimed they had come in contact with a extraterrestrial being.

The few first minutes had been their most determined point of the search. Soon, with each click of another forum, Donna grew less impressed with the claims. A person who had been abducted while inside of an airplane? That seemed unlikely at best. Another claiming to have been asked to become the queen of an entire sentient race? That was lunacy? And the best one in her opinion? Stone statues from another time and space that moved whenever you weren't looking.

That seemed more like myth than science fiction. This poor "Sally Sparrow", at least that's what this person was claiming to be, sounded like she was off her rocker.

Donna hoped that John was having more luck than she was. When she turned to see John bent over the computer with elbows at each side of the keyboard, hands gripping his scalp, she knew that he was just as frustrated. Donna let out a sigh and exited out of the current forum. Onto the next one then.

Meanwhile, John had paused from his search and went to the news. For some reason, his attention was on the UFO hovering over central London instead of his origins. He looked up the news on Google, typing in spaceship. Unsurprisingly, the first thing that popped up was a flood of articles and news clippings about the same UFO that he had seen minutes ago.

The more that he read, the less people seemed to know about it. The entire UK was calling out for the government to give them information, but it was being withheld. Even the Prime Minister herself wouldn't hold a statement for the people. And, apparently, the Americans were getting a little antsy only forty hours since first contact. That didn't sit well with his stomach.

He would have continued to read the news, his frown growing deeper with each passing moment, if it wasn't for Donna who shook him out of his stupor. Faintly he recognized that she had been calling for him for the past half-minute. He look at her, his eyebrows almost furrowing together in confusion and then he shrugged his shoulders.

"What? What is it?" John asked, his question just above a whisper.

"I- I found you." Donna's voice was barely audible. She sounded scared. Terrified, actually.

John's interest immediately picked up. He picked up his chair and moved it the few inches towards the monitor. Donna gave him a look that was somewhere between reluctance and unease. When John motioned for Donna to continue, she clicked on a link. Up popped a picture, and John could have sworn that his heart stopped then and there.

"That . . . that is me." John managed to squeak once his throat started to close up.

Indeed, it was him. Old him. That was his old face, the one that he wore before he had been mugged. That was him, with his big nose and ears and his short cropped hair. That was even the same leather jacket that he had always worn. The same one that he had left in their flat.

But that wasn't the scary thing. The scary thing was that he was clearly in a picture, the the same shot even, with th e deceased American President John F. Kennedy. The original picture had been blurry with the low quality, but someone had enhanced it to show each and every face clearly. And it made his stomach churn when his old face had a circle around it in red ink. Below in the corner, there was a date. Nov. 22, 1963. If John knew any American history, it was that day that the President had been assassinated.

"What?" It was all that John could say; his confusion couldn't have been expressed in words.

Donna hesitated before continuing. "And that's not the only one John."

Before John could ask his best friend what she had meant, Donna clicked on another link. A different picture came up, this one even older than the last one. It was a picture on the side of the titanic; a photo taken of passengers. On the far right there was a man that looked like John, but there was no knowing if it was; the quality was not as high as the last one. Still, John could tell that that man was him.

Another date: April 10, 1912.

Donna clicked on the mouse. It sounded like a gunshot to John's ears, ringing in the cold silence of the library. Another picture was brought up. This time, John was met with a different face, but one he was already familiar with. It was his new face, his new body, in the center of what looked like Central Park, New York City. He was wearing a suit and what looked like a trench coat. The lighting was terrible, but it was still enough to highlight his features, which looked to be permanently placed in a serious, ageless frown. Down in the corner, red ink read: 1930's?

John stared at this one far longer than the rest. He returned to reality once again when Donna kept on shaking his shoulders. This time, she had been much more violent. It occurred to John that Donna had been speaking to him this whole time. Faintly, he could see the other occupant in the room giving the two a strange look.

"What, what did you say?" John said, his voice monotone.

"I was begging you to snap out of it." Donna snapped, her voice was full with concern more than anger. "Tell me what you're thinking, John. Please. You're starting to scare me."

"I'm thinking . . ."

What was he thinking? To be honest with himself, John thought that he was losing his bloody sanity. He thought that this was impossible to be happening. A part of him wanted to deny that those faces were his. And yet, another part wanted to know exactly how he ended up in those photos? Photo Manipulation? Had a master photo-shopper pulled this over his eyes as a far too convincing prank?

"I think I want to know what happened before I lost my memories." John said through a soft but stern voice. He could see out of the corner of his eye his hand, which he had subconsciously clenched into a tight fist. It grew white as the pressure of his hold grew. And then it began to shake with a mix of fear and distress. "I want to know exactly why I can't remember anything before Sarah Jane found me."

"One mystery at a time, John. For the meantime, let's find out how you're a hundred years old." Donna said, grounding her best friend as she took his hand in hers and used her open one to rub his back in comfortable circles. Slowly, John unclenched his hand and nodded in thanks. Donna smiled back at him before continuing, grabbing the mouse once again. "There's bound to be something on this website that can tell us something."

Donna exited out of the picture, but not before printing them. John stepped up from his seat and went over to the printer. He grabbed the three pictures and returned to his seat. Once Donna was sure that he was ready, she started to read the website loud enough that the two could hear it. John read the title as Donna spoke: Have You Seen These Men?

"Ever since the invention of the film, there has been a constant in history. This constant is not war, death, love, or prosperity. Rather, it is a group of men. A group of men that clearly defy the laws the time. Through the use of technology, people have managed to record at least twelve men that have all appeared in different points in history with pictures. With each picture, despite the time between, these men have not aged. While we are not certain whether thiese men are supernatural creature,s debatably vampires, or visiting aliens with a longer lifespan, we are certain that they are the same persons. Below, to the left are two examples of one of these men."

John looked and saw the same pictures that Donna had printed out. Donna paused before continuing.

"One other theory we derived from these examples are . . . unsettling at best. Each picture has been placed with a certain event or period in history that has led to disaster, destruction, and death. The examples from before are both from horrific disasters from the 20th century. From this, and countless other sightings, we can conclude that these men are the bringers of destruction.

"One person who claimed to have met one of these men in the 1970's said that he was known as the 'Oncoming Storm' to aliens from other planets. If this is true, then the people of Earth may have attracted attention from one who-"

"Please, Donna. Stop." John begged. The urgency in his voice threw Donna off. She looked at her friend and sow how fragile the article had made him. "I . . . I can't listen to this anymore."

With a nod from her head, Donna closed out of the internet. The tension didn't close with it, and the two friends were left staring at the blank computer screen for a long time. It was only when the monitor went to screen saver that they realized that they had been in a shared silence for far too long.

It was John who spoke first.

"Please tell me that you don't believe this." John asked, his eyes still glued on the screensaver.

"To be honest, it sounds like hogwash to me." Donna said, keeping her eye's on her friend's face. He hadn't changed that single expression of fear since she closed out of the website. "Especially that last part."

John shook his head. "I don't want to believe it either. But- but those were my faces Donna! Both of them!"

He paused for a second, realizing that his voice had been growing in volume and desperation. He waited to see if the librarian would check on them. After a minute of anticipated silence, John let out a large sigh that made it sound like he was older than twenty four.

"I don't want to believe it. But I don't know what else to believe."

"Then don't believe in anything yet, John. I know you're John and that's good enough for me. Is that good enough for you?"

That seemed to knock some sense into his head, which he sorely needed. The panic that had been slowly creeping into his mind instantly gave way. John felt cool and comfortable again with Donna's words. He nodded his head and looked up at Donna with a genuine, sappy grin. He even gave Donna a thumbs up.

"Besides, our time here is up. Just got a text from my Mom." Donna said, raising her phone for John to see it." They want us home before the sun sets. Something about Nutters at night thinking it's the end of the world with the aliens."

"Well that seems like a sound enough reason. Come on, let's go." John said as he sat up, grabbing the coat off of the back of his chair on the way out. Donna ran to catch up with him, for he seemed to be hurrying to get out of the public library. And as if he read her thoughts, John then muttered, "I just want to get out of this place."

Donna was happy to comply. The two exited the library, waving to the sole librarian in the process, and walked with a hurried pace through the small parking lot. Donna unlocked the car door before they had arrived and they both quickly climbed into the small Toyota. John paused and looked to the west to see the sun beginning to set. However, he could faintly see the UFO just above the tree lines, and it unsettled his stomach.

As Donna started the engine, John reclined in his chair. By the time that she had turned onto the street, John had covered his eyes with the palms of his hand. He did it not only to calm himself down, but to stop himself from peeking at the UFO that still hovered above. He only freed his eyes when he felt the car pull over to the side of the room.

John looked over to his left, where Donna was pulling out the keys from the ignition. She caught his gaze for a second, and then John broke it when he finally set the car chair upright and let out a small groan. He opened the door, and seconds later Donna's followed suit. The two friends climbed out of the Toyota in silence. Donna shut the door behind her and then started to make her way to the Noble's front door.

"Donna? Can you wait for a second?" John said, still at the car. He watched Donna as she turned, a confused look plastered onto her face. John let out a sigh, clearly trying to come up with words that matched his train of thought. "I— I don't know who, or what, I am. And I've been fine with it before. Even yesterday it felt like nothing even happened to me. It felt like life was normal again. But even then there was a, I don't know how best to describe it, but there was a ticking sound in the back of my head that kept on reminding me of what I was. Of how I will never be the same anymore. After all of . . . this it makes me-"

"What are you trying to tell me, John?" Donna said in a soft voice, small wisps of condensation rising from her mouth due to the cold weather. She went back over to him, looking up at him with attentive eyes.

"I'm scared of what's happening. Of what could happen." John said, his voice low but still audible. His head was tilted downwards, and now he wasn't making eye contact with Donna. He paused to gulp and he tightened his hands again into white fists. "I feel like I shouldn't trust myself, with what that website said back there. But I'm really scared—"

He let out a sigh. "I'm really scared that I'll lose you."

"What?"

"Look, I'll understand if you want to stop helping me. If you want to leave. This is getting out of cont—"

Her response to that was a mild slap to his face. John reeled back from the sudden contact, but it was more from shock than from the pain. He looked at her, mouth agape as he started to rub his left cheek. Before he could ask her what that was for, he was met with the ginger's fury.

"Don't you ever suggest that, John!" Donna exclaimed her voice louder than it ought to have been. She didn't look angry at him, just fed up with this mind frame of his. "You're my best friend and nothing is going to change that. I'm with you until the thick of it, and you won't be getting rid of me that easily!"

"But those aliens?" John started to question.

"I don't give a bloody damn about those aliens! For all that we know, you could be a bloody Martian. But you're still my best friend. Get that through your thick noggin John." Dona continued, her voice still sharp. "If you're scared I'm leaving you because of it, then forget that."

"You really wouldn't care if I'm an alien?"

"I wouldn't care at all, John."

That was what John needed to hear. He took Donna in a tight bear hug, squeezing her shoulders into a vice like grip. She squeezed him back, and was even laughing somewhat. That caused him to chuckle a little bit, despite the situation. A smile of relief soon found its home on John's face, and for a brief second, he thought everything would be alright in the end.

"John?" A new, but familiar voice broke their silence from the other side of the driveway.

It sounded confused, but full with recognition. Donna stiffened at the sound of the voice, and John could practically feel her heart racing. He looked over Donna's shoulder and saw Wilf standing at the edge of the garden, telescope and blanket in both hands, completely frozen in place. He was staring at John, and it seemed like everything was clicking together inside Wilf's mind all at once, much faster than it had with Donna on that terrible night.

"John? Is that you?" Wilf asked, and John couldn't tell what that man was actually asking for.

And then that relief John had been feeling was shattered.