The Doctor suddenly sat up in bed, his mind racing with thoughts.
Pompeii, 79 A.D. New Zealand, 2073. The planet of Zakirretk, 4650.
He shook his head hard, causing his hair to fly every which direction, and then blinked several times.
Naples, 1658. Egypt, 1385 B.C.Denmark, 3012.
Slowly the rushing river of thoughts slowed down, until it was nothing more than a calm stream rippling along the rocks. The Doctor placed his hand to his forehead, sighing deeply. This was the third occurrence in a weeks' time. He swung his legs over the side of the king sized bed and pushed himself to the edge, allowing his feet to lightly touch the ground. What is going on? He wondered to himself, pushing a loose bit of hair out of his eyes. Slowly, he stood up, his tall frame hovering over the now seemingly small bed, his head hitting the canopy. "Daft River," He muttered as he pushed the wretched frills away from his face. He looked around the room as though he was lost. It looks like a tea party in here he thought as he surveyed the scenery. Almost every inch of the room was now covered in frills and doilies, pink floral patterns here, and a basket of popery on the nightstand. For a girl who's always with a gun she really is a bit posh he thought as he picked up a stuffed bear and threw it toward the bed. "Monogamy," he muttered as he walked to the door, swinging it open with ease. The hallway of the Tardis was bright and dazzling, just like the doctor liked to keep it. He sauntered down the corridor, stopping briefly at the full length mirror on the corner to give himself a "lookin' good" and continued down the spinning staircase to the control room.
At the sound of footsteps entering the room Amy looked up, not at all surprised to see the doctor striding towards her. "Oi, I see that nap of yours lasted long." She said in her thick Scottish accent.
"Yes. Time-lord." He replied pointing to his own face. "Minimum sleep required."
"I wish I required minimum sleep," A voice said from the corner.
"Oh, Rory. Just because you have to hibernate every once in a while doesn't mean you aren't special like all the other little aliens. It just makes you human. And that's a good thing. I'd hate to see an alien Rory. Probably try to destroy a whole planet. Not like you haven't already…" he rattled off without a breath.
"That was once, and we fixed it," Rory retorted through clenched teeth.
"That we did!" The doctor exclaimed as he spun in a circle and stepped up to the Tardis console. Amy dropped the magazine she was flipping through and joined him at the console, a giant grin on her face.
"So, are we going on a new adventure?" she asked, excitement oozing from her every pore.
"When aren't we?" the doctor asked back, matching her grin with one of his own. "What say you, Rory? Up for a little trip?"
"Is there such a thing as a 'little trip' with you?" he asked, striding over to where Amy was sitting and picking up the magazine.
"Well…." The doctor started with a very thoughtful look on his face. "not really."
Rory sighed, dropping the magazine back to the chair and striding over to Amy. "Alright then. But I want someplace with good food. I'm tired of living on Nutella and Gummy worms."
The Doctors grin slowly faded and was replaced with a shocked sadness. "But nutella is delicious…"
"Oh, yeah. It's wonderful. The first 3 weeks. Then it gets to be a bit much, Doctor," Amy retorted, taking Rory's hand in hers.
"Well, of course you'd take his side. I mean, he's your-" The doctor suddenly stopped.
Pompeii, 79 A.D. New Zealand, 2073. The planet of Zakirretk, 4650. Naples, 1658. Egypt, 1385 B.C. Denmark, 3012.
The thoughts rushed in, fast and painful, worse than they'd ever been before, almost like a chant in his mind.
Pompeii, 79 A.D. New Zealand, 2073. The planet of Zakirretk, 4650. Naples, 1658. Egypt, 1385 B.C. Denmark, 3012. Pompeii, 79 A.D. New Zealand, 2073. The planet of Zakirretk, 4650. Naples, 1658. Egypt, 1385 B.C. Denmark, 3012.
"Doctor?" Amy cried as she rushed to his side. He reached out and grabbed her shoulder, his legs suddenly starting to fail him. He could feel his face start to contort; his chest began to pulse at an unsteady beat.
Pompeii, 79 A.D. New Zealand, 2073. The planet of Zakirretk, 4650. Naples, 1658. Egypt, 1385 B.C. Denmark, 3012.
"Wh-what's going on?" Rory's voice asked, but the doctor could no longer see him. His vision had gone blurry, the control room of the Tardis slowly starting to morph into something else. The grated ground turned soft, the air being gulped into his lungs got sweeter, and the rays from the overhead lights became warmer. His vision slowly began clearing, the sweetness of the air helping his lungs calm down. He suddenly felt a huge jolt, causing him to flop over onto his back, all sense of up and down being torn from him. He opened his eyes slowly, the bright sunlight causing him to quickly shut them again. He raised his hand to his face, rubbing at his eye sockets until he saw starts. Let's better. He thought to himself. Always felt more at ease with the stars. Though as soon as he took his hands away from his flesh the orange intrusion of light took over yet again. He sighed, knowing that sooner or later he'd have to stand up, the very thought killing him as his every bone ached. He winced as he raised himself into a sitting position, allowing his head to flop onto his chest, giving his neck a bit of a break. Slowly he raised his head, opening his eyes like a zombie. He let out a small gasp of air.
He was sitting in the soft red grass, the orange sky stretched before him, covered at the horizon by silver-leaved trees, and in the middle of it she sat, her golden hair shinning in the light, a soft smile playing at her lips. She raised her hand in a small wave, every ounce of joy she possessed being broadcasted across her face. She sat there, breathing, as alive as the planet around her. His daughter.