A/N: What happens when you take a tired author and make it stay up all night with newspaper ink to mess up their mind? Inspiration, that's what! Just something that decided my mind was a good place to plant a seed.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything except for my idea. Doctor Who is owned by BBC.
Life's Views
Now the only thing the Doctor could remember was the fact he had fallen asleep.
He remembered it was on a planet with a beach. The sky was emerald and the water violet. The ruby sand was nice to lie down in. He laid and closed his eyes, letting the warmth of the 2 suns kiss his face. He was drifting off, into nothingness.
When he registered where his mind had taken him, he was confused. It was a long narrow hallway. The lights were dim, making it hard to see the doors lining the halls or the plates attached to them. The plates were barely legible due to the fact they were covered in dust and fading.
The next thing the Doctor noticed was the fact he held something in his hand, the only thing was, he didn't want to look at it and figure out what it was. He just walked up to the first door in the hallway and knocked. No reply. So being the Doctor he opened the door with his free hand and walked inside.
The room was small and held little to nothing. The only thing in the room was a table and 2 chairs. At the table was a man he knew all too well.
"Hello Doctor." The Old Who said to the entering man.
"How do you do Doctor?" the New Who asked.
"Fine, thank you."
"So what are you doing here in my dream?"
"Don't you mean our dream?"
"No you died, this is my dream."
"You know more than I do that all the past generations live in you, so come off it."
"Be that as it may, the question still stands, what are you doing here?"
"I told you I am a part of you. I am just here to watch."
"Watch what?"
"This." The older Doctor pointed at the wall and a screen showed something the Doctor never wanted to see, his life, from his first generation to the next.
Every Moment he felt again. The fear, and, love , and joy. He felt it all, and he hated it. New Who wanted to run out of the room, but alas he stayed to listen and speak with the Old Who. Whilst feeling all this emotion, the thing in his hand grows slightly heavier. Once the film was over the Doctor looked at his older self.
"What was the point of that?" New Who asked.
"I don't know, this is your dream."
"No this is your dream."
"Say what you want, but the fact is, it's a dream and I still have no idea what is going on."
"Fat lot of help you are."
"You're welcome." With that New Who walked out the door and into the Hallway again.
It was in the Hall that he felt the same panic and emotions from the room. The heart wrenching pain of loss and the cold feel of hate the fire of rage and the warmth of joy. He felt it all coursing through him sending him down the hall. As he passed, he counted the doors.
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
As he ran the life he lead passed through his mind showing every mistake and person he had ever met and every person he had ever hurt. He wanted to keep running, his past sneaking up on him.
How much faster could he run?
How much longer?
He had no answer; the only thing he was sure of was the item in his hand. It was growing heavier, colder and harder. The 10th door was passing him now and the end of the hall. He stopped. He could not run anymore. He was worn out and the object was much too heavy to bear. He sat down against the wall facing the last door. He was panting and waiting for the dream to be over. He heard a slight knocking. It was on the door in front of him.
He stood unsure if he should open it. The object seemed to make him want to open the door. He reached his free hand to the door and turned the nob.
The figure on the other side of the door was one unknown to the Doctor. In all the life movies he had watched, he had never seen the figure before. It was a boy.
His features were so hard to describe, maybe it was the fact that the features kept changing. The hair and the eye color and the face structure, switching. Neither person said anything. The small boy, who named himself Child stood and waited for the Doctor to do something.
The doctor seemed to know what Child wanted, but didn't want to give the object up. It was his after all, why should he give it to Child? Slowly he read the changing face and knew he would give it back. He slowly and unsurely handed the object over. Once it was in Child's hand he saw what it was.
In Child's hand was a frozen heart shaped rock. It had cracks all over it. He wondered why the rock was like that. Why had the Doctor had a rock in his hand? It was just a rock.
Child looked the rock over and over before taking in and peeling off the outer layer. Slowly the rock was changed into a warm, big and read heart. Child took the heart and gave it back to the Doctor. The Doctor turned it over and over in his hand before looking at Child.
As soon as the heart touched his hand, the Doctor felt happier and more carefree. Child turned and walked through the door he came in, never turning back and never uttering a word.
A new door appeared next to the Doctor and he smiled. He opened the door into his new beginning.
A/N: wow what a weird story. Again I was tired and it sounded cooler in my head. Bye!