I am back with Mercia's sequel. I hope you like this story even if it's a little more dark and has a little less Martha in it.
WARNING: I may not update often, things with school are somewhat... weird.
Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who, If I did David would never leave the show.
Author's notice: The story's title is "Στη Ρωγμή του Χρόνου." which is Greek for the Crack of Time. I inspired this story from a song and it felt only right to use the original title.
A dim light was entering the room from the big, dusty windows. Hundreds of wires and leviers could be seen on the floor. One of the pipes had broken and you could hear the oil drops falling, one after the other in a steady boring pace.
Like the way the days in London used to pass.
The air had an awful, suffocating smell of gas.
Like New New York; where he'd lost her, for the first time.
The engines where making a buzzing noise that could blow your head off.
Like her Mother.
A gentle, sweet but weak humming could be heard coming from Nowhere.
Like her trying to make their son sleep.
The Doctor was sitting in a dark corner, head buried in his hands. He had been stack in this place for days, weeks, months; it could even be years for all he knew. His internal clock was out of order here.
At the Crack of Time.
He raised his head and adjusted his eyes to the dim light. He saw his clothes, the clothes she had bought for him, spoiled by grease and dirt lying on the metal floor. The silver jacket, the deep blue, silk tie, the waistcoat, the white shirt. All of them ruined, probably never to be worn again.
He looked at his shoes. His white Converse. What was the big deal about them? Couldn't he just put a more formal pair of shoes? Was it really worth the whole fight?
Oh, yes, it wasn't just the Converse. It was the ride to the park that took them a little too long, the shower they never took, the stupid party they had to go…
And yet he knew it was nothing of all that.
It was time that finally got him, the routine. It turned out that family was a bigger challenge than saving the world.
Not that he didn't know that. He did, it was just harder of what he remembered.
At first it had been easy but when they decided that the TARDIS was no place for a baby Time Lord, things went crazy.
Living with Francine is like being in a war zone and he completely understood her husband now.
Financial crisis didn't escape their door and it was all 1969 again for Martha to get a job. He felt guilty for not helping her, especially when Francine reminded him that he should. However Martha always understood.
So when did this whole thing started?
Ah, yes, when Martha got a job at the Royal Hope Hospital. Long working hours, little money, baby John practically growing up with Francine since he was gone most of the time.
It just happened, the fights, more and more. Then it became worst, they didn't talk at all and at some point, he couldn't remember when, they stopped sleeping at the same bed.
Everything seemed ridiculous to him now. It wasn't worth it.
He should have tried to approach Francine, he should have spent more time with his son, and he should listen to Martha more.
She had told him there was a party they had to go. He shouldn't have taken John to Park ( a really beautiful, full of trees, planet that if Martha found out she would kill him.), they shouldn't have fallen asleep on the sofa, or dress super fast when he heard her car come, and how in God's name she knew they hadn't taken a shower?
The shower fight was especially bad. He yelled, she yelled, John screamed. He just got his jacket and hid in the TARDIS.
He was more human than he would have wanted, after all. He pressed a few buttons, pulled two or three leviers, he intended to go some place nice, quiet and peaceful but why on Earth should life be gentle with him for once?
Instead he felt a pain in his guts, the world went black and he woke up here, alone, without his TARDIS.
He had heard of this place.
The Crack of Time.
The Void.
The Nowhere.
It was Gallifrey's Alcatraz. You had to have done something extremely bad to be sent here. It was told that those sent here were never seen again.
Back then it seemed only logical, it was a prison after all.
Right now the thought of it was driving him crazy.
At first he didn't understand where he was. He tried to find his TARDIS but no such luck. He took out his sonic screwdriver and tried to open whatever looked like a door.
He failed that.
He messed with wires, buttons, leviers, pipes anything that would catch his sight but it was just impossible.
Then he took notice. The symbols on the walls, the blurry world outside the windows where night never came and the worst of all.
He had no sense. No sense of Time, no sense of his TARDIS, no sense of his son.
How the hell did he end up here?
Since Gallifrey was gone the gate to the Void should have been destroyed.
Could it be an accident? He is used in having accidents.
But it can't be an accident! Time Lords had taken every possible measures to control the entry and exit of that place. Only the Council knew the exact location, to the rest of them it was just a story!
No, no, no, it couldn't be just an accident, could it? But, on the other hand there was no one left that knew where the gate was, let alone send him there. He was the last Time Lord.
Well, not exactly the last but John didn't count he was just a baby.
Could it be John? He hadn't left him alone for a second but babies are evil creatures.
It takes only a moment for them to mess with the wrong button and send daddy to hell!
Not that it's a possible explanation but Chaos gets you when you least expect it.
It doesn't really matter how he end up there. He just wants to keep his mind occupied because truth was unbearable.
The truth was that no one had ever escaped this place.
The truth was that he wouldn't play with his son ever again.
He wouldn't see Martha's sweet smile again.
The truth was that he would spend the rest of his life there; trying to escape and he would eventually go mad and kill himself.
He might as well skip the trouble and do it right now.
"To be or not to be?" he said sighing and ran a hand through his hair.
"I may write a play for my son, my boy, Hamnet." A voice was heard from nowhere.
The Doctor raised his head. He knew that voice.
"Hamnet?" Another voice asked. Oh, he knew that voice all too well. He stood up quickly.
"Martha?" he screamed.
"You're not human, are you?" Martha's voice said.
The Doctor followed her voice.
"Martha, where are you?" he screamed again.
He heard himself repeating the phrase.
"What the…" his phrase was cut in half
Thanks for reading, review if you liked it, or hate it, if you want me to keep writing or just leave you alone! :D
Coming up next... Will the Doctor escape his prison. Is the Void a prison after all? what is the meaning of all these?