Hello fellow Doctor Who Lovers!
This is my first DW fanfic, and I'm pretty excited!
So please, enjoy my drabble and check back later for a longer fic!
Amy's elbows leaned against the TARDIS console while her chin rested on her two fists. She watched as The Doctor whipped himself around the hexagon, pulling that, pushing these buttons, typing here and then glancing there.
The timelord running around and slipping all over the slick TARDIS floor smiled as he flicked another switch and ran to the other side. Amy wasn't sure what he was doing, but he sure was full of energy - like a little kid with a brand new toy. Amy, herself, was struggling to keep her eyes open. She figured it must have been way past when she usually fell asleep.
But she wasn't about to crawl in bed next to Rory just yet. Watching the daft old man play with his magic box simply fascinated her too much. Not just the flicking and the switching and the managing to not fall every other step, but the sheer excitement and liveliness he always had. He didn't seem to mind her being there as long as she moved when he needed to mess with something she was leaning over.
"Doctor?" she spoke up suddenly, making him jump and almost completely spill onto the ground like he had entirely forgotten she was there.
"There! Look! See! Had to make the flooring slick, eh? I swear, Pond, the TARDIS did that on purpose…" his crooked smile widened, "…she just loves to laugh at me when I fall…" he muttered, almost not to Amy at all. More to the ceiling, the walls, the TARDIS itself.
"Doctor!" she shouted again and his green eyes darted to her. Amy continued, her voice groggy with drowsiness. "Do you believe in ghosts?"
His eyebrows pulled together at the question.
"And not like aliens or whatever, you know? Like real live…dead…ghosts!" the ginger's voice spiked with excitement as her eyebrows rose with question.
But The Doctor simply continued to stare at her with that blank, open look on his face. He knew the source of her question though.
Mr. Pond had been not feeling well today, and Amy had opted (rather reluctantly) to skip traveling to a new planet or helping another ship in distress in order to stay in bed with her husband and watch scary movies with him all day.
But when Rory had gone to sleep, Amy came waltzing into the TARDIS control room. She had told the Doctor about how Rory and her had spent the whole day staring at ghosts and haunted houses and creepy possessed little girls glowing off their telly in their dark bedroom…and then continued to tell him that Rory and her both agreed all movies were simply rubbish compared to the adventures they had with him everyday.
That sure made The Doctor beam…even though he wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing…
But the question still puzzled him…did he believe in ghosts? Did the oncoming storm believe in dead beings walking around the universe, all misty, cold, and transparent?
"Or course not…" he mumbled, turning back to the controls.
Amy frowned. What a rubbish answer…she couldn't help but think.
"Well I do!" Amy said with a quick smile as she turned and began to slowly walk up the stairs to her bedroom. She turned around one last time before leaving the control room. The Doctor was still now, leaning against the console with his back to her, all of his weight on his hands. She could tell simply by his hunched shoulders that he was troubled.
But Amy Pond knew that if she asked him anything about it, the best she was going to get was a stern, "Go to bed Pond!" so she simply skipped slowly back over to him and placed a soft kiss on his cheek, hoping that would make him feel a little better.
"Goodnight Doctor," she whispered with another innocent smile before going off to join sleeping Rory in bed.
The Doctor was still awake long after Mrs. Pond had gone off. But this time he wasn't happily playing with his giant toy…no…he was…thinking.
Pondering.
Did he believe in ghosts?
The Doctor shook his head and watched as his bangs bobbed above his eyes. No! Of course not! A shadow at the end of your hallway is simply a being from another dimension bleeding through. The voices you hear always in the next room over is just the Silence, hoping you don't spot them. The flicker behind your back when you look in the mirror in the dark is only Daughter Of Mine…peaking to see if you're The Doctor.
Ghosts? No…never…it could all be explained. Aliens…different worlds…different perceptions…imagination. It could all be explained.
But as The Doctor leaned against the console that night, his two hearts ached immensely…and he found tears sparkling down his cheeks. The back of his throat burned as he struggled to hold back the repetitive, persistent pain.
There was something in him that made him want to believe. Made him want to trust that there was a such thing as ghosts.
Maybe then…he wasn't so lonely.
Perhaps…only then…was he not the only remaining of his kind.
The Doctor, the last of the timelords, liked to believe, if just for a moment, that maybe…just maybe…there were still timelords out there.
Dead ones, yes…but timelords nonetheless.
He liked to dream sometimes about that possibility…the possibility that they were always there.
Suppressed always just out of his sight.
Watching his every step with care.
Laughing at jokes he made that perhaps only a timelord would understand!
Smiling at the things he was doing for the good of the universe.
Knowing what he had to do was for the best…
Understanding that he regretted it everyday of his long long life…
…forgiving him for the things he had done to them…
it's all i've ever wanted
Then again...what were the chances of that?
Hey reviews are cool! Would LOVE to hear from my brand new audience!
Thanks for reading!
PS…this might become a longer fic…so if you like, tell me to continue and I'll start thinking about it!