Unsinkable
Synopsis: The Doctor's decision to sail from
Southampton to New York may not have been one of his better ones.
Characters: The Doctor (nine)
Spoilers:
Anything up to Rose
Rating: PG
He stood on the boat deck - leaning against a wall, arms folded across his chest, staring up at the night sky. It was bitterly cold and the thin jumper and leather jacket he wore didn't offer much protection. They'd offer even less in a few hours time, he knew. He studied the stars above him; he could name them all, had visited most of the planets those stars supported; but there was one missing now. Not that anyone else would know that. Even the most proficient astrologer wouldn't notice that a light was missing from the distant constellation of Kasterborous. But he knew, and he grieved for that missing star.
He looked at his watch, 11.23pm - in 17 minutes they'd come to a shuddering halt. Another 2 hours and 57 minutes and the ship would descend to into the depths below them, taking at least 1500 people with her. He still wasn't sure why he'd decided to take this voyage on the RMS Titanic, just as he wasn't sure what he was going to do when the ship sank. He wouldn't die, at least not immediately, that he did know. Would he regenerate in freezing water? He had no idea, but he suspected that Time was cruel enough to let him.
He could hear music playing, people having fun, while others slept. A group of children were playing chase, hiding among the lifeboats - he briefly wondered why they weren't in bed at this hour, suspected they'd sneaked out of their cabin to play. A young couple strolled arm in arm along the promenade deck. People were living their lives, oblivious to the coming danger. He could warn them, but who would believe him? So he stood and watched and waited for history to unfold.
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The lifeboats had all gone, leaving over 1500 people on board. The Doctor had tried arguing with an officer who was sending the boats down half empty, tried telling him to put more people in them; of course no one had listened. History damned to repeat itself over and over.
People were jumping into the water, desperately trying to reach the boats. The Doctor was standing with a group of his fellow steerage passengers - the band really was playing out on the deck and somehow the lights were still on. He was trying to decide the best time to leave the ship. Should he jump overboard or wait until the ship went down and take his chances then? He knew one thing for sure - leaving the TARDIS behind in Southampton had been a really bad idea.
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The water was cold, eerily quiet. He was clinging, with two others, to a large plank of wood that at one time may have been a door. His companions, a young boy called Conor and an older man named Stan, were close to unconsciousness; he kept taking to them, nudging them to make sure they stayed awake, not prepared to let them die. He told them stories of his life; he knew they thought he was making them up, but as long as he kept their attention, then maybe there was a chance they'd live. But when he touched Stan he found he had stopped shivering, the final stages of hypothermia had set in. Still the Doctor kept talking, desperately trying to keep them both awake.
The cold didn't bother him as much as his Human companions. His Time Lord physiology was better suited to extremes of temperature than theirs. He was telling them about Rose now. This amazing 19 year old from their future; a teenage girl who ha'd saved the world. He made his decision then; get back to Southampton, find the TARDIS and then ask Rose again if she would to go with him. He realised that this was the first time since the war that he had made any plans for the future. The thought made him laugh; here he was drifting in a freezing ocean with little hope of rescue, and he was planning his future.
The Doctor and Connor were alone on the door; their companion had slipped off into the deep water before the Doctor could grab him. Connor was still alive though and the Doctor was determined to keep him that way. A bright light was shinning across the water, its beam resting on the bodies floating lifelessly around them. "Help's here", he told Connor. The young boy turned and stared at the approaching lifeboat.
END