The Parents by the_fanfic_doctor

Summary: Devyn wants to go and visit her parents to pack up some spare things and clothes.
And that means seeing her insane parents again.
Bit of randomness, but it sorta fills in the blanks, don't it?
Rating: All Ages
Categories: Other Doctors
Characters: Other Character(s), The Doctor (Author-Created)
Genres: Humor
Warnings: Swearing
Challenges: None
Series: 11
Published: 2007.05.14
Updated: 2007.05.14

The Parents by the_fanfic_doctor
Chapter 1: The Parents
Author's Notes: Ah, I told this to SevenAteNine before I wrote it down, and she laughed so hard.
A sure sign that it's good!

Devyn stood in the doorway of the room, her black backpack slung over her shoulder.
Her good shoulder, that was.
Her other one was still stiff from the wound and every once in a while pain would wash through her body, but only for a split second, and according to the Doctor, it probably would always be stiff, but the pain would wear off.

The room was filled almost entirely with boxes, filled with clothing and pictures of Devyn as a child, parts and bits of radios and TVs, glass ducks and tons of shoes.
The walls were painted a dull white, almost yellowish. The carpet was blue.
There were two beds, side to side, off in another room, but you could see the beds out of the corner of your eyes.
There was a sink next to the door, and a window directly across from where they were standing, although it was almost completely blocked by more cardboard boxes.

"So...this is your 'rents place?" The Doctor wondered in a low voice, pushing past Devyn and looking around eagerly.

"Yeah." Devyn replied, plopping her bag down on the floor.
"I wonder where mum is. OY, MUM!"

A stick of a woman with wispy white hair rolled out in a wheelchair, looking around through squinted eyes and peering at the Doctor before prodding him sharply.
"Devyn..." the woman, Devyn's mum Jane, began barely above a whisper, pointing a wrinkled finger at the Doctor.
"Who is he?"

"This is the Doctor, mum."


"This is-"


"This is th-"


"This is the Doctor!"

"What? WHAT? I don't need no stinkin' doctor!"

Devyn let out a long, weary sigh.
"No, mum, he's-"





"What? He's your boyfriend? Ain't he?" She prodded the Doctor violently again.

He squealed and retreated to the corner of the room.

"No, mum-"


"Turn up your hearing aid!"
Devyn's voice was beginning to grow louder and louder.





"NO NEED TO SHOUT, DEARIE." And so she did.

"Mum, this is the Doctor, he's just a friend."

Jane looked at Devyn oddly.

"Where you sleepin' now, dearie? I heard 'bout your losing your flat. 'Robert,' I says to Robbie, 'that girl keeps getting in a mess 'o troubles!'" Jane watched the Doctor out of the corner of her eye. It was clear she was a very old woman, and like Devyn had said, she was almost completely deaf.

What was Devyn supposed to say? Perhaps Robert would believe her if she said a time machine, but that was because he was senile

"I'm, uh, staying at the Doctor's place." She replied with a hint of a blush.

Jane smirked.
"I knews it! I knews it! You've got yourselves a boyfriend, you 'ave!" She cried with amazing energy.

Devyn gave another sigh, letting her head fall into her hands and shaking her head slowly.
"No, mum, you pervert, it ain't like that. He's got this really big place, you'd like it, an-"


Devyn stole a glance at the Doctor. He was innocently kicking a broken radio across the floor before Jane could spot him.
Jane, of course, didn't, and continued over the noise.

"You shouldn't mumble, dearie! What's you've come for, then? Robert's in your room, dearie, 'e was thinking 'bout selling your clothes, since you don't need 'em!"

"Oh, no mum, I need them."

"Why's that, dearie?"

Devyn stole another glance at the Doctor, who was wiping dust off his hands onto his red jumper.

"Um...I'm going...traveling. Just traveling. To see the sights, y'know?"

Jane blinked.

"He's in your bedroom, dearie, says he's gunna sell your clothes!" Jane repeated blankly.

"Hm. Thanks for that, mum."
Devyn snatched her backpack from the ground and continued down the short hall.

The Doctor was prodded violently by Jane again.
He squeaked.

"Don't 'cha be messin' with my little girl, you Casanova, you! You young whipper-snappers! Keep 'er out of trouble or you'll answer to my Robbie!" Jane prodded the Doctor again and he scrambled off, chasing after Devyn until she stopped suddenly and he came crashing into her.

"Oy! Watch it." Devyn said, side-stepping into another room covered with bright white tiles and grabbing a carton of milk from the counter before continuing on her way.

"What's the milk for then?" The Doctor asked as they entered another room.

The room was Devyn's old bedroom, one she had stayed in only a couple of years ago as soon as her parents had moved into the new apartment.
The walls were covered with Green Day and Drowning Pool posters, showing off her love of good old punk rock, and the walls themselves were the same dulling white as the rest of the place.
Devyn's bed was covered with pillows and blankets piled high and the bed almost sunk down a little.

"Dad, stop goin' through my stuff." said Devyn suddenly, looking at the man standing at her closet thoughtfully.
The man was about as old as Jane, with, like Jane, white hair.

The Doctor smiled, amused. The man had a long, flowing white beard that was about as untamed as his hair.

"What's that then? That you, Devyn?" Robert adjusted his glasses and peered at Devyn.
"You brought me the milk, yet?"

Devyn sighed. "Dad, you asked me that ten years ago."

"Well, did ye?"

"Yeah, dad, I did." She handed him the carton of spoiled milk and tossed her backpack on the pile of blankets on her bed.

"You gots your boyfriend with ye?" Robert asked.

Devyn blushed, again, and began shoving shirts into her backpack.

"No, dad, that's the Doctor."

"Good for him!"

The Doctor leaned against the wall, watching Devyn stuff a 'Got Wine?' shirt into her backpack.

"You stayin' with 'im?"

Devyn moved onto pants. Surprisingly, some of them were blue jeans, but most black.

Robert moved away from the closet.

"Yeah, dad, in a time machine."

Robert nodded knowingly.
"Tell them Martians to stop sendin' letters to us, then. You know how much post has gone up?"

"No, how much?"

"I dunno. That's why I was-a gunna ask you."

Devyn zipped up the backpack, feeling she had enough clothes, and moved on to her bathroom.

"Dad, where's the toothpaste?"

"Martians took it."

"Oh, I'll get another tube then."

She came back out stuffing a comb into one of the pockets on the backpack.
Then she went to her dresser, pushing the Doctor aside and grabbing a duct tape wallet, a toothbrush, a gameboy and a walkman, a stack of DVDs and CDs, and stuffing them all into there.

"Deeeeeeeevyyyyyyyn." Jane's cracked old voice called suddenly, causing everyone to jump and Robert to shuffle out of the room.
"Bring your boyfriend down, we've got tea!"

"Mum fails to release there aren't any stairs in the place." Devyn explained sadly, slinging her backpack over her shoulder and struggling out the doorframe.


The simple task of packing a few pairs of pants and one or two T-shirts had gone completely and utterly domestic, and the Doctor hated it.

Devyn was dragging her spoon through the small little pile of tea leaves at the bottom of her cup, staring blankly at them as she tried to draw pictures with them.
The awkward silence was only broken by the teeth gritting sound of Devyn's spoon against the cup, until finally Jane, who was sittinng across from Devyn, spoke up.

"What'choo gunna go after this, hon?"

Devyn looked up, startled. "Um...I dunno."

"You says you gunna see the sights, eh? In what?"

"A time machine..." Devyn muttered under hre breath, watching the Doctor grin.

"What's that?"

"Oh, nothin'. Got a nice big motorhome. Wouldn't believe how big it is."

"How many beds it got?"

"Uh..." Truthfully, Devyn was blisfully unaware how many bedrooms in the TARDIS, and after finding the tenth one she had lost count.


"Just one, mum."

"What 'bout telly?"

"All the channels."

Jane let out a low whistle. "Pretty cool machine then, eh?"

Devyn smiled innocently. "Veeeery cool." She slurped down the remains of her now cool tea, splattering tea leaves onto her mouth.
As she wiped them away Jane rounded on the Doctor.

"You, young whipper-snapper! What sorta job you gots? You really a doctor?"

The Doctor gave a feeble squeak and a shrug, scratching his knee thoughtfully.
He pursed his lips, then said in a childish sort of way; "Self employed, you could say."

Jane narrowed her eyes at him, clearly unconvinced. "'Nother way of sayin' unemployed."

"Well gee, mum, look at the time! It's getting dark, ain't it? Well, the Doctor and me best be off, huh?"
Devyn grabbed the collar of the Doctor's shirt and hoisted him up unwillingly, nearly spilling his cup of coffee.

"So soon, dearie?" asked Jane innocently, wheeling over to Devyn.

"Yeah, probably for the best. Early to bed, early to rise, make's a person healthy, wealthy and wise! Or...somethin' like that." said Devyn back, picking her backpack up from the ground and already beginning to descend down the long hallway.

The Doctor, puzzled, only spoke again once they were safely out of the flat.
"What's the hurry? I was just beginning to like your mother." He stated.

"Mum's for a thing against guys, ever since I ran off with Jacob Andrews and got myself arrested." Devyn explained quickly, inhaling deeply as the crisp night air hit her full in the face.


"Cops pulled Jacob over 'cause they found out he was drunk and I got brought in too. Didn't charge me, though." replied she, looking around aimlessly.
"Where's that blue box of yours?"

"Turn left."

"Oh. It was hell at first, I had to spend a whole night and mum got all worked up and said I'd end up getting myself killed."

"Your family is confusing enough as it is right now. Some time you'll have to sit my down and explain everything."

"Trust me, what I'm doing will all be explained sooner or later."

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters and settings are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

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