Chapter 1: Crashing

In the whirring outreaches of space, in the twisting colors of the galaxies as they intertwine in a song—perhaps the sound of the universe as it sings creation—there is a traveler. The stars blink and twinkle as planets spin around them in a dance as old as time itself. The universe—both the known and the unknown—is both the creator and the body of the many beings that reside in it. But it is not perfect. No, it is far from perfect. It has cracks and gaps where things fall through. Irrelevant things. Important things. All sorts of things. Perhaps no one knows this better than the traveler.

The last of his kind and always lonely was the last Time Lord. He was doomed to travel through time and space, protecting the world as his kind had always done. Alone, he was always alone, even when he had his companions. Then they would always leave him, willingly or not, and they always would. They couldn't help it. They would leave him with his blue box. And it would be like that for a while. Him and his TARDIS, his Time And Relative Dimension In Space. They would be whirling around, the perfect blue of the police box contrasting with the brilliant colors of the stars as they traveled. For he was her Doctor, she his TARDIS.

Now and then he felt like he belonged. He had his companions and it felt nice, like home. It makes him happier than he had been for a long time. But they leave him to himself, and he always has to find new ones. He knows when he gets a new companion that they would eventually leave him, but his mind is still latched onto the idea that one of them might stay with him forever. He had thought that maybe she would. He had especially liked her. But no. Her disappearance was one that felt like it had cut off one of his hearts and thrust it out to her. The only thing that he had learned from her disappearance into that other Earth was that there were those damned cracks in the universe that leads to another parallel universe. It was awful, quite awful that he had to find out that there were holes and gaps because of her disappearance. Rose, Rose. Even her name sent shivers through his body. And when Donna had rejected his invitation, it crushed him even more. He thought he'd finally found a friend, but she brushed him off to the side like he was nothing. He was greedy and selfish. He wanted them to stay with him. Forever. And Rose—oh Rose—had promised she would. But then the Daleks and the Cybermen and the parallel universe had come and ruined everything. And when he contacted her, she told him she loved him. And he was going to tell her he loved her too, but he was cut off. The worst timing. It was settled. The universe hated him.

A shock rocked the TARDIS, jolting the Doctor out of his thoughts. "Woah there. What's going on? Everything should be alright. Systems are in balance. There aren't any more leftover huon particles in someone or something that would attract them to the TARDIS anymore, is there?"

The rocking slowed, and the Doctor remarked, "Well, if that's all for today then I think I want a bit of a change of atmosphere. Perhaps Twen—"

But he was interrupted by a sudden flicker of the lights in the TARDIS. The systems overheated and crashed. The Doctor scurried around, trying to help her regain control over her various systems, but too late, too slow. The TARDIS spiraled down to Earth, crashing into the nearest time period and land mass. The Doctor knew that much before the TARDIS hit the ground violently and his head was knocked against the floor, rendering him unconscious.

~Later~

The Doctor drowsily got up. He moaned as he righted himself, the world spinning in a furious whirl of colors. He gripped the edge of one of the TARDIS' consoles to try to right himself up. His blood pounded in his head with the unique four beat rhythm unique to the two hearted Time Lords. But that made everything worse. The extra pounding in his head was another thing to add to his list of injuries in addition to the bruises he got when he fell onto the floor just before he hit unconsciousness. After a few tense minutes the Doctor spent holding the edge of console, he was able to walk fairly well enough to check on the TARDIS. Steadying himself with one hand, he shifted around the main room, checking the systems, which blinded him with flashing lights. He found them all broken down and unusable—at least for the time being. He was stuck on there then—but wait, where was there. What was outside the TARDIS?

The Doctor crept towards the door, peeking out of the window of the TARDIS (he didn't see much but some greenery, which helped a lot, thank you very much window). He sighed. He supposed he'd have to actually open the door. He opened it slowly and gingerly took a step out. His Converse clad foot hit moist dirt as the hot air sweating with moisture hit him like a refrigerator. He opened the door wider, marveling at the wild rain forest that lay out before him. He took another step out, closing the TARDIS door behind him, continuing to ogle at the jungle—which at the same time intrigued and frightened him. A group of pigs rushed passed him, their pink hides spotted with the mud they trod upon. He laughed. It was so peaceful here. This was certainly some place he could heal. There was no grief here, nothing to worry about. He didn't have to save the world from some alien or the other. The jungle seemed prehistoric; perhaps he had gotten away from humanity then. For once, he was glad about that. The Doctor glanced around, marveling the flowers dotting the greenery with their warm tonalities. He took tentative steps around the TARDIS, still slightly wary of danger. Satisfied with the lack of danger, he walked off, marking the place where the TARDIS was parked (crashed, more specifically) in his memory.

Strolling through the forest he saw many types of bugs (many which sidetracked him, including one sort of beetle that he stared at for a good minute or two), more pigs, and lots and lots of trees (of various kinds). He deemed that the forest was safe and free of danger (although the pigs might be a problem and he saw a few poisonous bugs and berries). He decided to see what was outside of the forest. Deducing that the best way to get outside of the forest, he retraced his steps back to the TARDIS and set off in one direction. Within a few minutes, the Doctor had reached a beach. Well, that was a bit unexpected. The smooth beach was much like the forest in that they were both like Heaven on Earth. He felt his jaw dropping. There was no way that such a beautiful area, with its sparkling ocean-green waters and its white powder fine sand, could be undiscovered by humans. Ah, humans. They were such a wonderful race at times, but at other times, they could be the most evil, destructive beings in the universe. The Doctor looked around and could see that the land seemed to wrap around the edge of his peripheral vision. Writing a large X on the ground to mark where he had started (and in which direction was the TARDIS), he started off. He seemed confident and lively as he started a few steps beyond the X (his stride was long judging by the way some people had to jog to catch up to him), before he tripped on something stuck on the sand. The sand seemed to love his coat, which he had to admit, was not at all suited to this weather. Oh how he loved his coat, his beautiful coat. And his shoes. His red Converse. The sand seemed to love that too. Well, he supposed that the sand couldn't actually love his garments, but it seemed to at least be physically attracted. Sand seemed to have gotten into every possible area. The sand scratched at his skin as he got up.

He heaved himself up, plopping himself down upon the sand. He picked up the offending item, some sort of container. Well, perhaps not a container, per se, but some sort of containment item. Sort of like a message in a bottle. How ironic, he thought. The object looked like some sort of rock, but it had an artificial touch to it. He deemed that it was no normal object, but some sort of contraption that could be alien in origin. Or from someplace other than this godforsaken island. Excitedly, he searched for a way to open it. He was sure he could open it. The Doctor ran his hands up and down the object, feeling it for any secret openings and/or handles. Cursing his forgetfulness, he pulled out his Sonic Screwdriver. At least now he knew it wasn't wood. He heard a click and with childish glee (and to think he was nearly a thousand years old) he reached in to find some sort of note. It looked like a set of instructions.

Upon Arrival:

-Hide. They are not allowed to see you. No matter what. They aren't allowed to know.

-Observe them. Don't let them kill each other. But don't be seen.

-Find food and shelter and wait for him. He will come for them.

-When and if he comes send word. We will come to your aid and we will successfully capture him.

-If within a year he does not come, contact us and we will return you back to base. Good Luck.

The Doctor looked at the list. It was obvious that he was not meant to be the recipient. Someone was supposed to receive it. Here, on this island. The note also mentioned "they" as in a group of people. But who are they? He didn't know. And who was the "he" they had mentioned. Someone will come to the island, but who? He had so many questions. He looked at the container and flipped it around. Nothing. He looked at the old and weathered piece of paper. There was nothing special about—Wait! He had flipped the page over and found some sort of pattern or logo that had been etched on the paper but was almost gone. The image consisted of letters and honeycomb-like shapes:

The Doctor peered at the image. It looked familiar, but it was too faded to be more recognizable. He slipped it into his coat pocket, regardless of the sand (both on his coat and on the blasted thing). According to the note (if that could be believed), something important was going to happen. A group of people would be coming to the island. For whatever reason, the thought of that sent a chill down the Doctor's back (despite the lovely warm weather). He didn't particularly want to interact with people right now, and judging by the set of instructions, these people would be viscous and very animalistic. What sort of people were they. Perhaps they weren't even humans at all. Maybe they were some sort of alien species. Very possible. He supposed his little holiday "jaunt" (if you could call the crash landing of the TARDIS that) wouldn't be so peaceful anymore. Of course, after Rose and Donna, he didn't want to have to save the world again. Like that one line in The Incredibles (Rose had made him watch that movie with her), "No matter how many times you save the world, it always manages to get back in jeopardy again. Sometimes I just want it to stay saved! You know, for a little bit? I feel like the maid; I just cleaned up this mess! Can we keep it clean for... for ten minutes?" That was brilliant. Of course, Rose was always brilliant. Until she got stuck in another world—

"No, I won't think of that," The Doctor said aloud. He shook his head to clear his thoughts. Thoughts of her always made him alone and empty. She had been there, for most of his previous regeneration and now, most of this current one. He felt like there was something like a hole in his heart.

He kicked the sand at his feet. No more thinking of her, he told himself. There was nothing he could do. It would be selfish of him to demand her and take her out of a comfortable parallel world to just be with him. No, he could not do that to her. He couldn't. He loved her too much. She has a family now. A mother. And even a father after long years without having him around. Because he had been dead. Until they had discovered the parallel world. He couldn't take that all away from her. He pushed back the rising thoughts about trying to access the alternate Earth, knowing that it would be effortless.

He took his anger out on a nearby rock, kicking it until his foot hurt. He wasn't doing anybody good by kicking the rock. The poor rock. It was probably wondering what it had done to anger the last Time Lord in existence. If it could think. Perhaps it was some sort of undeveloped organism. It was quite possible. The Doctor took one last moment to strike the boulder with his shoe before shuffling off, hands in his pockets, to explore the land mass, which he was confident was an island.

The land mass, he discovered after what seemed like a half an hour, was indeed an island, and a relatively small island at that. How brilliant. He gazed at the calm natural pool of sea water just a few minutes off from his little X. To the Doctor, it seemed like such a tranquil area. But soon it wouldn't be, according to the bloody note. At least, he pondered, he had a warning. Imagine if some day in the future, if that day conceded with the days he was stuck on the island thanks to the TARDIS, the beings appeared. He wouldn't know what was going on. But perhaps, ignorance is bliss. At least, for the time being. Now he was constantly worried. About how these beings were going to appear. He sighed. Dusting off the sand for what felt like the hundredth time, he started off in the direction of his X and the TARDIS.

~ Later~

The Doctor sat on top of a rock on the mountain, which he decided to climb the day after his crash. He had no idea how long he had been up there. In fact, he had no idea there was a mountain until he had gazed up into the sky as he walked back to the TARDIS that first day. From there he saw the whole island. He felt like he could control everything from the rock was sitting on. He saw odd pink rocks at one end of the island, and he thought he might have seen a bit of the bright blue that was his TARDIS in the jungle (but he had probably been imagining that, there was no logical way that he could have seen the TARDIS). He felt powerful, sitting on the rock, watching the sun rise across the horizon. It must have been hours that he sat there, contemplating everything (in actuality it had been an hour and fifty-two minutes). As he sat there, he saw something in the sky. Could it be…?

"No, it's just another bird," he told himself aloud. He was just being paranoid after that note. But then again, that would have to be a large bird. An extremely large bird that had feathers of red and gold. He could almost believe that it was a crashing airplane. Humans could not have developed those flying machines yet. The island was so natural. Had it been the time of human airplanes, the island would have surely been bought and sold to some manufacturing company who in turn built a factory on the island that would destroy the entire ecosystem. Probably some sort of alien technology, the Doctor decided. If it was an aircraft. After all, it could be a phoenix. Perhaps Fawkes.

He shook his head. Oh, who was he kidding? It wasn't a bird. It was an aircraft. Perhaps that is how those beings would come to be on the island. It was odd. How could the ship be the one bringing those people to the island? It was crashing, and fast. And there was no one here besides him. His brain raced to calculate all the possibilities.

"Oh bloody hell," he swore.

Someone was supposed to come and find the note. In the object. He took it out of his pocket. He placed it closed to his ear and shook it. He could hear something banging against the container. He used his sonic screwdriver (at least he remembered this time) to open it. This time, the object did not open up to reveal a (slightly) tattered note, but split into unequal halves. In the bigger half, he saw a pulsing light. He scooped up the offending object. Rectangular in shape, the light pulsed slowly and a tiny beat could be heard from it (no, it was not a horcrux).

"It's a locater," he murmured. "But what for. More importantly, who was tracking it?"

He stared at it for a second before chucking it down the mountain side into the dense jungle. It could have easily been tracking him. He couldn't take any chances. For all he knew, some alien antagonist was out to get him and then take over the world—or the universe—again.

As he threw the tracker down the mountainside, his back had been turned away from the crashing plane. The Doctor forgot that plane as he smirked at the fact that he had outsmarted his opponents before they could try to kill him and take over the world (finally, they always seemed to be intent on making his job as savior of the universe horrible). He stumbled and almost flew face forward down the back of the mountain as the plane crashed and slid many meters into the forest, obliterating much of the shrubbery and forestry that had once occupied that space. The Doctor winced. So many living things destroyed. And thus, he concluded that it must be a human contraption. Humans had such a knack for killing innocent things. And forgetting themselves in their greed.

He righted himself, giddy that he did not fall this time. Brilliant, he thought. For once his luck had not run out on him. He laughed. He looked up into the heavens and laughed again. He felt sorry for the poor humans down there. Just over a day on the island and he was already mad. There was something about the oddly serene nature about the island. And of course, right then the sentiment underneath his shoes had to slip. It just had to, as if something or someone was out there, laughing at him singing its joyous little song (perhaps it was the island itself, it didn't seem like such a normal island).

"Bloody hell," he cursed. This was going to hurt, he thought before he stumbled down the mountain side, eventually losing consciousness.