Hello all! So let me begin with warning you that this is going to be a randomly-updated fic. I have no idea when I'll be posting a new drabble, it all depends on inspiration finding me!

This series is basically a set of drabbles, each one being an internal monologue of some non-main character, at the end of some episode in the revived series. Ideally, I'd choose a character that doesn't appear in more than one episode, and yes, each monologue would occur at the end of the episode as we see it, so I'll have all that material to work on.

If you can think of any character you'd like me to consider, PM me! Although I must add, I've only watched the revived series of Doctor Who, so me writing any Classic Who fanfiction wouldn't really be possible.

As always, a humble request for you to review! I'm more used to writing dialogues and would love to know how my attempts at writing monologues have come across to you!

Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who. That would be the BBC you're looking for.

Ada Gillyflower

The Crimson Horror, S07E11

In the end, it was heartbreak all over again. She thought she had reached her worst when she had gazed unseeingly at her dying mother, but she was wrong. The human heart was capable of so much, and for that self-same reason, it could break into a million pieces a million times over.

She had called it a sentimental attachment. Cold, emotionless words were they, indeed! It was not merely sentimental, it was emotional. Every fibre of her being thrilled with those emotions, the simple emotions of fellow-feeling, of contentment, of –dare she say it –love.

For she knew she did love him. Ephemeral as he had been in her life, he had changed it through and through, and for that she was intensely grateful. He had, in his own diseased, monstrous state, led her out of the darkness, and by miraculously healing himself, he had healed her too –she was beautiful and whole and sane again because of him. She could not thank him enough.

And yet, and yet… her heart had broken. Even though she understood why he had to leave, understood that her monster was in essence a wanderer, it hurt having to wish him luck and to fare well on his way. It hurt to know that while he seemed to care for her deeply, most of his affection was gratitude, and the rest was his own good nature. She remembered how he had pushed her against the wall, protecting her from all the flames and the heat while leaving his own newly-healed body exposed –that he could spontaneously offer up his life and health in place of someone else touched her deeply. She had known no one, not one person in her whole dreary life who would have done what he did.

But most of all she remembered his kiss; that chaste, affectionate kiss of the sort that a brother would bestow on his favourite sister, a far cry from the passionate ones that she had read lovers shared. It was, instead, the first breath of fresh air in a smoke-filled room, the first rain in an arid desert, the first ray of sunshine to make a flower bloom. But it was enough, it would keep forever, and she would never forget it. She would forever thank him, forever bless him and his intrepid friends, forever love him and never forget him.

Her heart was broken, but she was happy. And that was enough.

Please review if you liked it! Thank you!