To Have Faith

Chapter 3 : Rickety Home Base

Rebekah stayed where she was for some time, remembering similar advice 10 gave the one man in the Sally Sparrow episode.

She was feeling sick and disoriented, rather like being punched in the gut while being spun around violently, before being tossed roughly onto the ground. Well, not really like that at all, but you get the idea.

Anyway, the advice had something to do with, "Try not to stand immediately," and, "Time sickness from not having any cover while traveling-" Or something. She can't remember it clearly.

It's been awhile since she'd watched those episodes as she had gone back to Classic Who to catch up on that instead.

So, while she waited for her legs to solidify again, she went through the contents of the mystery bag. She honestly wasn't sure how anyone could stuff so much into such a small backpack, and yet have it stay so light.

The only explanation she could think of is that it must be some sort of Time Lord tech. Bigger on the inside and all that. The contents were also questionable as far as legality is concerned, but at the moment, Rebekah didn't really care.

There were a lot of papers inside: forged identification and the like, enough money to make someone suspicious that she'd robbed a bank, a book on advanced technology, with a sticky note on the cover reading 'Study this, it's important!' Written In the made-up language Rebekah came up with when she was twelve.

Aaand we're just gonna ignore that bit of weirdness for the moment.

The book itself shouldn't have been available in 2018 let alone in 1986, and wasn't that just crazy? Being in 2006, meeting a 'friendly' Weeping Angel and then getting whisked away to 1986.

Maybe she could use that book to make a hover board. She always wanted a hover board.

But that's neither here nor there.

The backpack also had several outfits, and a new pair of running shoes. A container filled to bursting with various tea bags-somebody sure knew her well, seeing as she was addicted to the beverage. A brand-new looking key, with an un-coded label of 'house key' tied to it. And there was also some sort of data chip, with a sticky note reading 'For saving River' same as the first, spelt in her simple little language: backwards English with no spaces and some different made up symbols. But the language was hers and hers alone.

After putting everything back in the pack and flipping through the tech book -because, wow, just how exactly advanced is this thing?

She read it for about half an hour- It was giving her a headache to look at. Mostly because it and the rest of the stuff is hard-backed proof of time travel. Giving up, she plops the book back in the dimensional rucksack with the rest of the junk.

Rebekah is sure she isn't in a dream, or hallucination, for that matter. Too real for that and she's never hallucinated before so why would she start now?

All she can do is roll with it and assume this is all real, for her own self-preservation.

If it isn't real, she'll wake up in a hospital with a funny story to tell.

That is if she remembers this at all.

And if she doesn't wake up at all, then there isn't much she can do about that.

It's not like she is going to try and off herself just to test the dream theory. She is rather attached to her life, thank-you-very-much.

And anyways; she just got shot back into the past.

Sure, she doesn't have any family here, and just thinking that made a sharp pain sting her heart, but it's not like she has any direct contact (other than Alex) with aliens. So unless she decides to up and join UNIT, she could potentially just live her life like normal here in the past.

Speaking of which, she has a house to view. Rolling back from where she'd been deposited on the grass, Rebekah tests her legs and finds that they are just fine, if still a little wobbly; not that that is going to stop her.

She slings her bags over one arm, trying the key in the lock; it clicks open and she lets herself in easy enough.

The inside is, however, a bit of a disaster.

Definitely a fixer by anyone's standards. It has that old mildew-y smell that almost every fixer Rebekah's mum had ever renovated seemed to have.

Her mum, though having previously been in the US Air Force had retired when Rebekah was little and now spent her time doing real estate of different kinds. So, basically, Rebekah had grown up both around and living in houses of verifying stages of renovation. The last one being the house she'd lived in right before this debacle.

A few months before, they had had to wash the dishes in the bathtub.

...And before that was a bad case of mold and a termite infestation.

Though recently all those problems had been taken care of and fixed.

For the most part anyway. There was still one room she refused to go into because of the mold. Nasty stuff that makes your head hurt and your lungs feel like you can't get enough oxygen.

Yes, when they bought the house, they had to wear safety masks. No, besides that one room, they didn't need masks inside anymore

So, in short: this house was looking much more hospitable then the one she'd just been living in.... Maybe.

Rebekah made her way around the house, making a list of all the things she could find in need of fixing; the carpet was a well-worn ratty green with unknown stains she didn't even want to think about.

The whole kitchen was ancient and needed replacement, especially the wood cabinets.

Signs of at least one mouse.

A few dead bugs. Thankfully England is not known for having cockroaches. She's praying to God not to find termite damage. Ugh. Just thinking about them makes her skin crawl.

The walls could use some fresh paint.

There's a small leak in one of the upstairs rooms that will need fixing.

And lastly, a few windows are broken and will need replacing.

Basically, Rebekah is in for one hell of a job.

On the bright side though, she has 20 years to blow until 2006. 32 years till 2018.

Never mind. That's kind of depressing in and of itself.

But seriously, the house has good bones as far as she is concerned. It'll make for a good home-base once it's renovated.

Having explored the empty house, found out the garage is also mostly empty, except for a few gardening tools, a broom, and some junk that'll need to be thrown out- Discovering the garden is extensive but very overgrown and in need of heavy maintenance-

Rebekah sets to work cleaning the house and repairing what she can with her meager set of tools.

That night she falls asleep in the middle of what she's designated the living room, which is currently the cleanest, least smelling and least stained room in the house.

Curled up in a ball, with a hoodie as a mattress and a jacket draped over her as a blanket, trying to ignore the faint scratching and scurrying, or how she's sure fleas are attacking her skin-

Her eyes well up like earlier, full of self-pity, she cries. Not the quiet, embarrassed type of crying, but the loud, messy, sobbing type.

She cries for her family, for her home, and for herself until she can't cry any more. It is the first time in her short 19 years of life that she has ever cried herself to sleep.

And it won't be the last time either.