A hiss and a pop. That's what it started with. Isn't that what it always starts with? Some simple, little sound. Something your mind will dismiss. A warning of sorts. Foreshock would be a better word. A hiss and a pop, a prelude to a disaster.
The Doctor's ears were finely tuned to hear anything wrong with the TARDIS. He heard the sound and watched a small lever, about the size of a dime, fly off the console. He rushed to the other side to look at the screen. The Gallifreyan numbers and letters were reflected in his eyes as his brow furrowed into a confused expression. Confusion quickly turned to uneasiness. Uneasiness became panic. He started flipping levers and pushing buttons quickly. The TARDIS was wrenched out of the time vortex violently. The room twisted and rocked. The Doctor had each hand on a different control. He would flip a lever here, run to the other side to pull a spring, and back again to move the control stick. He had to land before the TARDIS broke down.
"Come on, come on!" His voice increased in intensity and he started using more complicated maneuvers to reach different controls at the same time. His mind was in two parts. Autopilot, the part that didn't have to think about what to do. It pulled at the controls to get it to land. Then the other half of him was thinking up the most efficient way to get to the ground. Any ground. Anywhere. Anywhen. The room rocked about and threw him off of the console completely. The TARDIS was normally very unstable, but this was different. This was dangerous.
"No, no, no, no…" He ran back to the controls and pulled a rather large lever.
"Land!"
The TARDIS gave a shudder and jolted. It threw The Doctor off of his feet completely and he hit the ground, hard. He pulled himself up, holding his head where he had fallen. He was stumbling toward the controls, the rocking and jolting throwing him off course. The floor seemed to move of it's own accord. The banging and crashing noises swirled inside his head. The room jumped and tilted sideways. A loud smashing sound reverberated throughout the ship, then it stopped. It all stopped.
The rocking. The noises. Everything stopped. The room was at a tilt, but not bad enough that he was unable to walk around. The Doctor stood up slowly. The control room was a wreck. Items from other rooms were scattered all around the floor. Books from the library. Jackets from the wardrobe. The Doctor took a step tentatively. His TARDIS made a low creaking sound.
He must have landed somewhere. The ship was not in shreds and the shaking had stopped.
His eyes looked over at the control console. It had definitely been beaten up by the crash. A few levers and buttons were barely hanging on. Some of the controls had fallen off completely. The blue-green light that was normally shining brightly had dimmed. He knew he should check on the underneath, but his head was throbbing. He collapsed onto the only chair in the control room. It creaked and began to fall. He jumped up. It fell backwards with a crash.
"Oh, no, don't do that!" The Doctor said, staring at it. He had wanted to rest before he checked his machine over. That wasn't looking like an option now. He needed to check on the damage. He lifted up a panel in the floor to get to the main machinery of the TARDIS. It was a complete wreck. Cables had come undone and computer chips were lying on the floor. One particularly large cable had spilt open and was spitting sparks.
The Doctor lifted it aside to check on the breaking system. Completely demolished. So why wasn't the TARDIS moving?
He moved on to the control system. It was jammed. The cables and complicated computer system were mixed up. Even if he started the TARDIS from up above, it wouldn't move. It was broken enough that it wouldn't take off to another time or place. It was just stuck.
The throbbing in his head continued. He reached for his sonic screwdriver in his pocket, but found nothing. He groaned. It must have fallen out during the crash. He made his way up to the main room.
Glancing around, he saw no sign of his sonic. He would have to look harder. He picked up several clothing items and tossed it to the side. Nothing. He moved some books. Still nothing. The cable beneath him was still sparking occasionally. When it did, it would release a puff of smoke. It had started to float up to where he was. He coughed when he breathed it in. The jerking motion of his body pained his head. With every cough his head seemed to be crushed in. But he couldn't stop the reflexive motion. The pain in his head became too much. Holding his head, he fell over onto the broken chair and passed out.