Sleep
There was no denying it any longer. The Doctor needed sleep.
Silence blanketed him in its warmth and purity. Amy and Rory slumbered somewhere downstairs. The TARDIS was even at rest, its customary thrumming sound muffled and dangerously soothing.
Standing before the viewport and the austere blackness of dormant space, the Time Lord stood shivering, from exhaustion rather than cold, refusing to give in to sleep - even if it had now become a desperate need.
Seconds passed - thousands and thousands of numbing seconds. His hearts began slowing down, his body preparing itself for sleep without his mind's permission. Somehow, some unknown time later, he found himself slumped in one of the jump seats, eyes sliding inevitably shut.
No. NO. Do not give in. He'll find you again. He'll find you and cut you down. Do not give in.
He shuddered, in half-delirious terror and in the gnawing pain of un-numbered months without sleep.
At last he could hold out no longer and let go of his last shred of consciousness, knowing full well that he could sleep and sleep, but he would never have rest. The Dream Lord would soon arrive and see to that.
Excuses: This began as an answer to the iPod Challenge (where you put your iPod on shuffle and write a ficlet for whatever randomly comes up), and later I cleaned it up a bit. The song was "Sleep," composed by Eric Whitacre and performed by Polyphony. Now where's my award for Most Creative Title?
Musical inspiration: "Sleep" - Eric Whitacre, Polyphony (.com/watch?v=Xh0J-bP5ClE)
