Wisdom From The Library
I do not own Doctor Who and I am not making a profit from writing this.
It was an average night at The Library, the building that is so grand; so important; it does not need a proper name. Millions of people from different planets wondered the massive halls. They read, browsed and researched. Although there was an impressive amount of people there, there used to be many more. The Vashta Nerada (dangerous creatures that dwell in the shadows) made The Library their new home. Because of the threat, the computer that runs The Library saved all the visitors on its hard drive. No one knows what happened to the looming danger, or how everyone escaped from the hard drive, but everyone returned to normal. Although everyone was reassured that a tragedy of that scale will never happen again, many decided not to take the chance. Besides the bizarre history, it was your normal everyday planet sized library.
All libraries are supposed to be quite, but for this one, it's easier said then done. Having so many people in one location at the same time always causes noise, and all though try as they might there was always a constant hum of activity. No matter where you were you always heard the sounds of footsteps, pages turning and, whispers. Except for a few crevices that were rarely visited, it is unavoidable. This story takes place in one of these places, to be exact, a small hallway in the autobiography section.
The silence of the book-lined walls was broken by a haunting wheezing sound, followed by a blue light that broke the gloom. A dark blue Police Box wavered in and out of reality before settling down with a clunk. Luckily for the owner of the machine there was no one else around, or he would need to answer some questions. Most likely along the lines of, " How in the world did you break the laws of physics and reality?"
The door opened to reveal a man called The Doctor, which like the Library, he was so grand, so important, he dose not need a proper name. He looked depressed and exhausted and dressed in a tweed suit with a bow tie. It was easy to say he had a bad day.
It started like any other day, with him standing in his space and time machine asking his friends were and when they would like to go. It was a normal day in the New York Central Park, Then a coffee run turned into a chaotic adventure involving, a future telling book, an ever mysterious wife, and monstrous stone statues. Usually The Doctor and his friends were able to make it through these random adventures, but this time was different. In the end Amy and Rory died (well… if you want to be exact, they didn't really die, just sent to a time period their not used to, and the Doctor can never see them again, it is kind of the same thing to him.) and River continued traveling, leaving him alone.
He had never been this alone before, well… not in this lifetime at least. He hated losing people. I don't matter if he knew them or not. He hated death. He blamed himself for almost everyone's fate, whether he deserves it or not. And now he will add Amy and Rory to his list of guilt.
He stepped onto the library's floor solemnly, holding a large blue book with the number eleven engraved in silver on the spine. He made his way to one of the incredibly huge bookcases. Every square inch of it was paced with books that are the same color as the one The Doctor held in his hands.
Each book had an engraved number on its side. They ran through one to eleven and were at least five hundred of them for each number. Seeing his lives spread out in such a visual way gave The Doctor perspective. Some times he thinks, " Look at all the good I've done!" others it's "Look at all the wrong things I have done." but right now in just made him feel old.
The first time The Doctor started stashing his journals hear, was the day he took Donna to The Library. The day included a grate deal of running, and carnivorous shadows. But the thing he remembered the most was Doctor River Song. The women he never seen before, waltzed into his life, and claimed she know everything about him. She even went as far to give her life to save his. Looking bake on it now, the Doctor realized now had it must have been for her. She was looking into the eyes of the one she loved for the last time, and he didn't recognize her, or give her support, and he didn't... there he goes again, blaming him self for things he couldn't control.
After River was saved to the computer, The Doctor tried to think of anything he can do to make her experience better. For as long as he can remember, The Doctor wrote about his life. They were kept in his library, and they were kind of pointless, because nobody ever read them. Anyone saved in the library hard drive. Would be able to read any book in the library, and because of this The Doctor moved all his journals to this location. At the time he had no idea whether or not River would even care to read them, but he thought it was the least he could do.
After that he realized his writing style has changed. Sometimes he caught himself explaining things he already knew, like what fix points in time are. Others he wrote whole pages directed toward River, like some kind of letter. He did this again just a few minutes ago. He found himself apologizing for her parents fate, and he also through in a few words about she shouldn't have left him like that. Now to put the journal away, and then figure out what to do next. One of those things will be much harder then the other.
The bookcase was so long it took The Doctor half a minute to reach the end. He got to the section were there was only books with the number eleven. He slid his current book into the last possible spot and stepped back. The bookcase, as large as it was, was full. The doctor never expected to run out of space, but now that it was, he needed to find a different place for next time.
" If there is a next time", a voice rang in his head. He reminded himself that he got out of depressions like this before, but he could not image how he could now.
Experimentally he walked around the bookcase to the other side, and to his mild surprise found it was double sided. And to his grater surprise found that this side also had blue book with numbers.
"I'm to late", he whispered to himself.
When The Doctor started coming here he did so in a liner fashion, to avoid seeing journals from his future. He also made sure there was a day between each time he came, to avoid running into his past of future selves. But in his grief the Doctor didn't pay attention to when he came, and was now looking at the Twelve and Thirtieth Doctors Journals. His future selves.
The doctor passed the remaining eleven journals on this side, and noted that there was a lot of hem. He felt a great deal of guilt upon his shoulders, like he was betraying Amy and Rory by living with out them. He knew had had this emotion many times before but somehow forgot how he recovered.
He continued walking and looked up at the mass amount of twelve numbered books, and the even greater amount of thirteen numbered books. When he reached the end he stared at the last book the bared the number thirteen. The book he must have written before he died… for the last time.
Without thinking, the doctor picked up the large book, and flipped it to the last page. This was very unlike him considering earlier that day he mentioned that he tore the last page out of books to avoid the ending. But a lot has happened today and he wasn't even thinking. So, with out rational thinking, he took a deep breath, looked at the unfamiliar handwriting, and began to read.
Hey eleven, no time no be. What I mean is, it's been a long since I was you. Are you still bow tie and fez obsessed, what am I talking about of curse you are. Anyway…
You're the one with questions, so here are the answers.
1. The reason I know to write this is because I remember reading this. Simple fulfillment of a paradox loop.
2. Yes I'm dieing while writing this and for the last time I'm afraid. But that's not the main thing, is it? That only reason I'm mentioning it in the first place is because knowing me when I was you, you'll be worried about whether or not someone else is hurt. The answer this time is no. Just me.
And last but certainly not least. 3. Don't worry mate, you'll be ginger soon enough, just wait your turn.
O.k. that's enough about me, and I don't have a lot of time so lets talk about you. From what I can remember, you're in a rough spot in your eleventh life huh? Losing people is always hard; especially when you think it's your fault. But here's the great thing about people, there's a lot of them.
I'm not saying forget Amy and Rory, because that would be terrible. I'm saying realize this is not the end. Obviously you see that from all the other journals, but we all need a reminder once and awhile. Soon you'll run into someone new, someone impossible. You'll see what I mean. You have a long beautiful life ahead of you. Dose in have some dark times and mistakes in it, well… yes, but it is still beautiful, don't waist it!
And now because I know me when I was you, you are still wondering what my opinion is on the whole " dieing" thing. Believe it not… I'm o.k With it. The thing is. I'm old. Really, Really old. And the worst part is, I'm starting to forget things. Sometimes I forget places I've been, things I've did, and lately, when it gets particularly bad I forget the faces of my companions, my friends, the people I love. Dieing doesn't scare me. Forgetting does. And if dieing is the only way I can stop forgetting… so be it!
The thing is… if I had the opportunity to fix my mistakes, I would with out second guessing, but that never came, so I look bake at all the good things I've done, which I have the emit, there was a lot. It has been an amazing ride. I have seen and done more things then I think anyone has. I have met and befriended the greatest people. And I just want to say thank you. Thank you for letting be you for part of that ride. You were brilliant
Sincerely, The Doctor
P.S say hi to Clara for me
P.S.S Allons-y, Geronimo, and all the rest!
The Doctor looked down at the end of the letter and felt a small smile take over his face. Sure the whole " forgetting the faces of the ones he loved" thing scared him, but that was a long time away, and the future Doctor was right. Why waste a single moment of the time he has?
As he closed the book and put in bake on the shelf, he quickly wondered who Clara is before walking bake to his TARDIS with a slightly more positive attitude. Although the letter did make him feel better, he still wanted a brake from traveling for a little while. Victorian London sounded nice. And with that the TARDIS door closed and in disappeared from sight.
About ten minutes later, a little girl walked up to the bookcase of blue and stared in wonder. She was researching for a school project in history. It was the do a presentation on their favorite historical figure. The little girl took one of the many blue books. She was doing hers on the best person in all of universal history. The Doctor.
The story will always continue, but this one ends here
THE END.