The Lonely Angel
Ziggy
Author's note: The following takes place immediately after the events in the second season episode, Girl in the Fireplace. My first ever WhoFic, but not my first fanfic by a long shot. It all started when I was doing some yardwork and thought to myself: I wonder if the TARDIS has a garden? Well, why not? (And if they ever showed one on the TV show, I've consciously forgotten, though my subconscious didn't)
Rose Tyler was reluctantly strolling beside her friend Mickey Smith down a corridor of the TARDIS. Neither said anything; Rose's thoughts were on the melancholy Time Lord they'd left behind in the console room. They'd given him time to be alone after he'd come back from his last visit to Madame du Pompadour. Or rather, she'd been urged by Mickey to give the centuries older man some space, for they both realized he was not all right, despite his reassurances to the contrary.
The young woman couldn't get the downcast expression on the Doctor's face out of her mind. Her heart ached because she knew he was hurting. When people were hurting, they shouldn't have to deal with the pain alone...
Mind made up, Rose halted.
Mickey paced forward a few more steps before noticing her absence. Quickly, he turned to face her. "Oi! Rose! What's up?"
Rose stared down the corridor, back the way they'd just come. "I'm goin' back to the console room."
"Come on now!" The young man came up beside her. "I think the Doctor needs some time to himself."
"He's hurtin', Mickey! Being by himself is the last thing he needs!"
He grabbed her arm as she took a couple steps towards the console room. "Maybe it's not what he needs, but it's probably what he wants."
Rose slipped out of his grasp, stared at him defiantly. "How do you know what he wants?"
"Rose, don't..."
His former girlfriend, however, was already heading back the way they'd come. Mickey sighed, shook his head, then continued the way they'd been going, hopefully towards the TARDIS's kitchen.
Rose walked purposefully towards the console room. As she strode down the corridor, she saw the object of her concern coming slowly towards her. She hesitated, watching as the Doctor approached...
Then kept on striding past. He didn't stop nor did he acknowledge her presence; he didn't even seem to realize she was there as he padded by, hands tucked loosely into his trouser pockets, sad brown eyes tracking the floor before him.
The blonde resisted the urge to reach out and touch him or say anything. She only stood and watched the slumped figure continue down the bright corridor. Doubly concerned now, she followed, keeping her distance.
The Doctor turned right at an intersection, then pushed open a door on his left and disappeared into the room beyond. Rose knew this wasn't the Doctor's pesonal quarters, so she trailed him. She stopped at the closed door, wondering if she should continue her pursuit. Maybe Mickey was right, maybe she should just leave him alone.
But then she reflected back to the dejected look in the Time Lord's eyes, the sadness etched on the ancient face (though it didn't look a day over 40 Earth-years old) and her resolve hardened. She raised her right hand, touched the smooth plasticine door in front of her and pushed it open.
Despite all the time she'd already spent in the TARDIS, she was utterly amazed by what she saw: a lush garden stretched before her; except for the door she had entered through, flowers of all colors and plants of every shade totally surrounded her. Tall columns supported trellising, flowering vines that wound upward towards a sky blue ceiling. Or was it actually true sky that canvased the area? With the wonder that was the TARDIS, it was hard to tell. Greens mixed with pinks, purples, blues and red intermingled with browns, oranges and yellows. It seemed there were dozens of species of ornamental plants and beautiful flowers from across space and time.
Rose felt a sense of peacefulness drape over her like a cloak. She stood for several seconds drinking in the calm beauty around her. Though many of the flowers were in bloom, the air wasn't overpowered with their fragrance, though she could make out a subtle bouquet of rose, lavendar, lilac and orange blossom with a hint of other, more alien scents.
Here, a simple park bench sat upon a patch of what appeared to be lavendar-colored grass; there, Terran rose bushes grew at the base of leafy trees. Simple bushes dotted the landscape and Rose thought she caught a glimpse of a wild hedgehog peeking out from behind a shrub. A brick path coursed through the garden, leading out of sight beyond a small copse of light purple lilacs. She caught a quick glimpse of the Doctor's overcoat tails disappearing behind the flowering bush.
Quickly, she followed, soon realizing that even though the path twisted and turned, it only led in one direction, its course did not split off into other directions. She strode past small alcoves of sheltering shrubs, one or two Bonsai-type plants and one very ancient-looking Weeping Willow tree before she finally caught up with her friend.
The Doctor was seated on another wooden park bench, next to a fountain that resembled a small waterfall. Clear water cascaded down a rockface, pooled at the rock-edged base, where it was pumped back to the top to recycle all over again. Points of light, like tiny glowsticks, glittered in the pool.
The Time Lord was leaned against the back of the bench, his head tilted back as he stared at the simple display. His bright eyes held a far-away expression that made Rose wonder if he was even seeing the sparkling waters. Sadness permeated from him as never before.
The young human hesitated to approach but, once again, her concern overroad any thoughts of retreat. She stepped forward, deliberately scuffing her foot against the brickwork so as not to startle him. He didn't react to the sound; she became even more worried. "Doctor?"
For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, he turned his head towards her, but still said nothing.
Rose quickly approached and sat beside him before he could tell her to bugger off. He watched her sit, but didn't even offer a hint of his usual smile. "I was just concerned," Rose began haltingly. "Well, you know, worried. I thought maybe you'd like to have some company in case you wanted to, you know, talk or something."
"Or something," the Doctor repeated softly.
Rose looked down, then back up into the brown eyes watching her. "So this place, it's lovely. Who'd've guessed this old TARDIS could have something like this?"
"Hey, now, there's no need for insults," the Time Lord shot back, but without his usual conviction when somebody spoke badly of his time machine. "She's aged quite well, and this garden is proof of that."
Rose's gaze took in the vast greenry about them. "But, who maintains all this?"
"Why, the TARDIS, of course!" The Doctor stated as if it was the most obvious answer in the universe.
"Of course," she answered, a slight smile on her lips. The smile faded as her friend returned his sad gaze to the bubbling waterfall. The brooding countenance was such a contrast to his usual effervescent self that Rose felt her heart break. She already missed the wide-eyed look of wonder he used when encountering new things across the vast reaches of time and space; the ready grin as he sought to steady others' uneasiness; his passion in all that he did, whether it was fun or business. He spent all his years helping others, only to depart before he could get too settled and familiar...
That's it, thought Rose. He leaves before he can get too attached to those he's helped, but that doesn't mean he doesn't care for them anyway. Especially this last time, with Madame du Pompadour.
Thinking she's discovered the reason for the Doctor's melancholy mood, the blonde screwed up her courage. "Doctor," she asked gently, "what happened when you returned for Madame du Pompadour?" She was sure she knew, but hoped to get him to open up to her.
The Time Lord sat quietly for so long that Rose began to wonder if he wasn't going to answer, wondered if maybe he was reflecting inside himself so deeply he hadn't heard her. When the answer came, it was spoken softly, etched in pain.
"She died."
"Oh, Doctor, I'm so--"
His right hand rose in a stopping gesture. "Rose, please, I don't want your platitudes." He turned his head to face her, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. "I just want to be alone right now." The last word was an almost desperate plea: "Please."
Tears sprang unbidden to Rose's own eyes. "Of course," she murmured, when the last thing she wanted to do was grant his request. She reached out, took his left hand. "You know where to find me if you need me, for anything. You don't have to go through this alone." With that, she gave his hand an encouraging squeeze, then quickly stood and strode away.
The Time Lord watched his young friend walk away.
I don't have to go through this alone. The Doctor mentally snorted. Yeah, right. Don't you get it, Rose? I'm always alone. Even when I'm with you or Sarah Jane or any of the other countless beings I've had join me in my travels. Alone. Reinette had the right of it. A lonely angel... He couldn't help but chuckle at his own thoughts. Well, lonely, anyway. I'm not so sure about the angel part...
The Doctor gazed around him. The normally tranquil setting wasn't helping much this time. He knew he shouldn't allow himself to dwell on what had happened. It went against every fiber of his being. He should be grateful that he'd had the opportunities the universe had allowed him... the traveling, helping others, having such wonderful friends and people who cared for him and had shared his encounters.
But sometimes he couldn't help but feel the weight of his nine hundred plus years of existence. Like everything else, the time he spent doing said things was fleeting. All of his traveling companions, civilizations, even worlds were but a drop in the proverbial bucket when it came to time and the universe. By Rassilon, he'd even survived the destruction of his own world, the end of his own race.
He alone of the distinguished Time Lord legacy lived.
That was why he kept traveling. Even though he made friends and helped people, he generally kept a distance emotionally. The exception being those he permitted to join him in his travels. If he allowed himself to slow down too much, he began to reflect on the bad feelings he fought to keep locked away. If he allowed himself to settle in one place for too long, he knew he would become too attached and eventually, while those he cared for whithered and died, he alone would survive, having to deal with the pain of loss once again. This was what he'd tried to impress on Rose when she demanded to know more about his past companions and why he didn't talk about them. It just hurt too much to watch those he cared for become as one with the dust while outwardly he never aged, as Reinette had reminded him when she'd remarked on his agelessness.
Reinette.
Reinette had literally seen into his mind, had shared everywhere he'd been and everything he was. There was nobody else he'd encountered who had ever known so much about him, not even members of his own nearly extinct race. She had accepted him so readily despite knowing him so intimately--or was it because of it?--that it had given them a special bond. A connection that transcended anything he'd ever experienced before.
Hence the grieving pain in his hearts at her death, at not being able to take her to the stars she had wished to visit.
Deep down, he knew he'd never know such a bond again. Not even with Rose, whom he was coming to love more than as just a friend and traveling companion. Rose, who had accepted him as he was, as Reinette had, despite not being able to really comprehend his life and what he'd been through.
The Doctor sighed. He stood, walked over to a tall column upon which grew thick vines blooming with bright pink flowers. He reached through the greenery; patted the TARDIS affectionately. He felt a reassuring hum vibrate through his fingertips and he smiled slightly.
A sad, tired smile.
"I'm a lonely little boy who's now a lonely old man, traveling in the last TARDIS," he stated. He glanced around him before returning his bright-eyed gaze to the column before him. "We're the last of our kinds, aren't we, old girl? When we finally die, two ancient beings will be totally extinct."
Again, he patted the time machine that was his only home. "But we'll be all right, won't we, old girl? Yes, we'll be all right." Softer, he murmured, "We're always all right."
Slowly, a tear made its lonely way down his cheek.
11/21/07