Fred looked up at the sunglassed Doctor, her head tilting a little. It wasn't a bad look. Not really. It wasn't the best look, but it wasn't bad.
"They didn't look that bad. Could pass for some Hollywood type, even though it's obvious you're not Hollywood. You're British! Well, you aren't but the show you are on. Well, not you, but you. The Doctor of Doctor Who, that you, not the one sitting here with me you..." She stopped her explanation, as it was, and took off the glasses. "If we're where I think we are, and normally I wouldn't tell someone this right off cause they might think I'm a little loony, but you are probably one of the best people to tell it to. I believe we are from differing realities, realities that have been captured in some art form, if you want to call television programs art. Comics, books, TV, movies. They're all there. Well, not all of us, but that's where those of us who are a little different come from."
Fred paused in her explanation long enough to finish off her pancakes. Cleaned, fed, newish clothes - they all made the world a much better place after escaping an asylum. She nudged the container away and sat back in her chair.
"I donno. I was more focused on the wall." She bit her bottom lip in thought then sighed. "Gotta feeling whatever was on the wall was something I really wanted to know cause I can't remember a bit of it. What I do remember is sort of fuzzy and doesn't make any sense at all."