(Author's Note: So this is just something I wrote today because I'm obsessed with the TARDIS and the idea that the TARDIS still has a personality and can think, just like she did when she was stuck in Idris, and I wondered what she would do if/when the Doctor died. This little stream of consciousness was the result.
Standard disclaimers apply. I own nothing but my own imagination.)
Her Doctor is dead. He died... he just... died, leaving her behind. Thousands upon thousands of years traveling with him, and now he's gone, just like that. Never again will he forget to turn off the brakes, or send them both spiraling into imminent disaster, or bring home strange and curious humans to travel with him. There will be no more of that. No traveling, no companions, no stars burning up, no planets to save, no Doctor.
She knew it was coming. Of course she knew. She can see across all of time and space; she exists across all of time and space, how could she not know? And still she could not change it, could not stop it. There was nothing she could do but take him to his death like a lamb to slaughter. She knew and she couldn't stop it. It was fixed. She knew well enough from her Doctor's constant explanations to various strays that a fixed point could not be changed, well it could, but all of time might implode, so best not to.
But it hurt, when it happened. She hoped that knowing would make it hurt less. She thought if she accepted it, if she didn't try to ignore it or fight it, if she just accepted it as what it was, a fixed point in history, a fact, that it would hurt less.
It doesn't. It hurts more than anything. She's lost her Doctor, the most important thing in her life. He's gone, and he isn't coming back. This isn't like the other times, times he almost died, or was erased from the universe, or a myriad of other things he got up to, no. She'd felt those, but she always knew he would be back. He always came back. This time is different. There is no lingering feeling of adventure, no optimistic sense of purpose, no echo of his existence. This time he won't come back.
She hates herself for being so sure that he is gone for good. She hates that she knows. She wishes more than anything that she could hope for his triumphant return, waiting and pining for her silly Time Lord to come home. She wants to imagine that he'll be back any moment, flinging the doors open and waltzing into the control room just like normal, but she can't. She knows that he is dead and that there is nothing she can do to change it. He's dead and he's never ever coming back.
So she does the only thing she can think to do, and that is nothing. She doesn't want to see the universe if he isn't there with her, not that she can, really. A TARDIS doesn't get to go off on her own and adventure, even if she wants to, but luckily, she doesn't want to. She doesn't want to go anywhere without him.
She stays still for so long, she sometimes forgets that she knows how to move. She's lost track of how many centuries she's just sat there collecting dust. She hardly can recall that she once traveled through time and space. The blue box is done with that now. She is alone. For the first time since her Doctor first ran away with her, she is alone, and she hates it. She doesn't want to be alone, she wants her Doctor back. She is just sitting, like she has for hundreds of years, when she hears a voice.
"Hello old girl. Aren't you something?"
Who's there? She's not accustomed to anyone speaking to her. And who told him he could call her that? That's what the Doctor called her. Old girl. Who gave him the right to mock her like that, to reopen that wound, when it had been-if not healed-at least been dormant for so many years?
"A type 40 TARDIS. Never thought I'd live to see the day..."
Oh. That certainly piques her interest. She hasn't heard anyone say that in a very long time. He recognizes her. How strange. No one ever recognizes her. They walk right by, but not this one. This one is different. And that voice. It sounds so very curious, as if the person attached to that voice is... is... bigger... on the inside.
She forgives him a little bit for calling her old girl and begins to search for whoever it is who can recognize a TARDIS. When she finally finds the person with the bigger-on-the-inside voice, she's surprised. It can't be, but somehow... She knows somehow her Doctor did this. He's the only one that could, because somehow there's a young Time Lord standing in front of her. His sandy hair is sticking out all over the place, and he has these green eyes that are so adventurous and mischievous and... sad, no not sad. Not sad yet. Now they are innocent. He is only 362 years old. 362 years exactly. It's his birthday. Today it's his birthday and today his eyes are innocent. They have yet to see the pain and suffering and torment that they one day will-she curses her ability to see across time and space, as she doesn't like to see this young man so sad. So very very sad.
Why does she even care? She doesn't. Does she? She's never card before. Millions and billions of creatures have passed by her as she sat, unnoticed, unmoving ever since her Doctor died, and never once did she care about any of them. This one is different. Perhaps he reminds her of someone.
"There's stories about you, you know, the last TARDIS." He scoffs under his breath. "Well, seems we're meant for each other, the last TARDIS and the last Time Lord."
Last. That's why she thought she saw sadness in his eyes. Oh, her Doctor was a tricky one; he's saved one single Time Lord. She supposes it's probably best not to have too many of them mucking around the universe anyway. Time Lords tend to be messy.
"I suppose I should introduce myself. I'm the Professor," he says with a crooked smile. She's never had someone introduce themselves to her before. She thinks she likes this one, the Professor.
"What do you say then, you and me? All of time and space?"
He's going to try the door now, and she has to decide if she's going to let him in.
She could.
She could go exploring again, see everything there is to see and never be alone. She could steal another Time Lord. She could steal the last Time Lord. But she's not sure she wants to. She's not sure she's ready to. But if this is her last chance...
He pushes on the solid, blue doors, and steps back in confusion when they don't open.
Silly boy. Police box doors open out the way. She almost gives up on him entirely, but then he pauses, his eyes skimming over the white panel that says, "Pull to open."
He pulls. The doors are unlocked. They open. She's going to steal another Time Lord.
"They were right," he mutters as he crosses the threshold into the control room. "It really is bigger on the inside."
(Please leave a review if you have a chance! I'd love to hear if you liked this, or want to see more similar things. Or if you hated it and think I should never write again, I'd love to hear that too I suppose. Either way, it makes all the hard work and time that I put into these worth it.
Also, if you liked this, I've written another one fairly similar about the TARDIS/Idris called The Madman with his Box and the Box with her Madman, so check that out as well. Okay, I'm done self-promoting now.
Much love,
PrettyLittleMonster Xxx)