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Hanna is Not a Companion's NameCrossover crack.Hanna is Not a Companion's Name in General Fiction
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The time had come. The zombie set a hand on the little redhead's shoulder, his face solemn. Hanna looked up at him, cocking a brow and earning a nod from the tall, green man.
All was quiet as Hanna turned to face him, his usual hyper demeanor forgotten. Big blue eyes searched his face, glassy with a hint of tears behind thick glasses. His bottom lip quivered softly in the light of a streetlamp.
Glowing orange eyes met his gaze without flinching, and Hanna watched as the glow dimmed. The green skin slowly paled, and the white tufts of hair recoloured.
Darkening amber eyes closed, scars closing over and fresh, living skin regenerating in a natural pink.
There was a strange sound, suddenly, as if the universe was tearing. A tall blue police call box from 1950's England materialized just outside the ring of light, and the unzombie walked to it.
"My TARDIS..." His voice had taken on a British accent. The man looked back at the crying redhead, now-brown eyes softening.