Chibi Eleventh Doctor's Adventures: Of Yarn and Bowtie Pasta
Or - In which the Doctor is a chibi in my head - and I completely fail to mention it in the story. Behold! ChibiDoctor-Verse! ...(And tremble!)
Sal was just minding her own business when she spotted it. No really, she was on her way home from the market with her shopping when she just happened to notice it. Sal and her children lived on the north edge of the central district, and it was just as she was crossing from the business district into the region of residential housing surrounding it that she happened to glance down an alley. At a quick glance, there was nothing there, just a few bins belonging to the office block that formed one long, high wall of the narrow dead-end alley. She was about to glance away and continue on her way home when something caught her eye. Something dark moved just the tinniest bit. Was it a trick of the light? No- Just there! By the edge of one of the bins the shadows had shifted slightly. There was no one on the street and the shops were closed early for a public holiday. Almost everyone was at the market or at home. She really ought to just leave it and head straight home to her children, she knew, even as she entered into the alley. What was she thinking doing this all alone? But it didn't matter. She had often been told off when she was younger for being too curious for her own good, and something was beckoning her down the alley. There really wasn't any turning back for her.
"Hello? Is anyone there?" She called, but there was no answer.
Something pale came into view behind the edge of one of the bin bags which had overflowed out onto the ground beside the bins. Was it an animal, a stray or a lost pet perhaps? But no, gathering her courage, she shifted her shopping so that she could nudge the bag to one side. What she found made her freeze stock still. It was no stray.
A small body wrapped in layers of fabric in shades of brown and charcoal that easily camouflaged it with the dingy bricks behind it, connected to a head of disheveled brunette locks. The face turned away from her, but she could just see the edge of a pale jaw line through the fringes of the hair- And what hair it was! It looked so soft and lovely, and there was so much of it that it put her in mind of one of her own children. But no, this was a human. She'd seen humans before, usually making a delivery at the market, and mostly at a distance. They were rare in the city where she had been born and raised, but they traded with the larger merchants and were not such an uncommon sight in the city where she now made her home.
Unsure what to do, she simply stood there- Until the creature moved again. It twitched and rolled its head slightly towards her, enough to see that its eyes were pressed tightly closed. It whimpered faintly and Sal unfroze. She was a mother, and if there was one thing she knew how to do, it was to give comfort to someone in distress. Sal nudged the obliviously sleeping human, speaking to it directly now, telling it that this was not a place to be sleeping. Eyes flew open, wide and startled. He- yes, it was a he, she was fairly sure- started up and tried to get to his feet. His left leg didn't seem to be cooperating though, and buckling under him and leaving him sprawled half-sitting against the bins.
"Easy now, little one," Sal soothed. She moved back a bit to give him more space to find his bearings. His wide blue-green eyes looked up at her again, somewhat calmer, although still weary. "Are you hurt, dear?" He glanced down at his left ankle, where she could now discern a dark wet stain against his charcoal trousers.
"Um, I…No," he said, stumbling over his words nervously. Sal gave him her best mothering "Oh Really," look as applied by mothers everywhere, and he caved. "Yes, my ankle. But I'm fine!" he insisted. One good look was enough to tell Sal that this human was definitely not fine, if finding him lying by the bins hadn't already been enough to begin with.
"How long have you been here?" she asked.
"Oh, umm…" H cast around, trying to get a glimpse of the sun or one of the moons she guessed, to judge the time. "I don't really know. It was dark out when I fell, I suppose."
"You fell?" His eyes flicked tellingly up to the roof edge of the office block several stories above them, acknowledgment enough for her to give a little gasp of shock and bustle forward again to check him over. He cringed away a bit, but otherwise bore her attentions. He didn't seem to be hurt much aside from a graze on his temple half hidden by his bangs and whatever damage he'd done to his ankle, which was remarkable considering the height he'd apparently fallen from.
"I landed on the bin bags," he supplied helpfully.
"What on earth were you doing up there!?"
"I was being chased," he answered, and seeing her alarmed expression he continued quickly, "Nothing to worry about, happens to me all the time." For some reason this did not seem to calm her. "It was just a couple of Hoix I routed earlier today- er, yesterday I suppose. Don't worry, they won't be doing any more harm here, but they were very keen on getting a bit of revenge on me for what I did to their nasty little hide out.
Sal's mind was whirling at the Human's explanation. Her people knew of the Hoix, cruel beasts with fowl natures and even worse intentions. This small creature had rid them of two of beasts?!
"Where were you headed?"
"Back to my ship of course," there was an obvious warmth in his voice when he spoke of his ship, but also a deep sadness in him, a loneliness in his eyes that the mother in her could not ignore.
"Is there someone there to look after you?"
"I'll be fine." He avoided her gaze, shifting uncomfortably.
"Is there anyone waiting for you?"
"Not really, but I ought to be getting back on my way in any case." He flashed her a forced smile and tried to get up again, clearly wanting to run off, but was unable.
"All right then. You're coming with me." Sal proclaimed.
"What?! Oh, no-no-no. I couldn't impose. You've already been so kind to check on me. I'm all right and now I'll just let you go on your way and not take up anymore of your time." Still attempting (and failing) to get to his feet, he was rambling, making excused and generally trying to bet her to leave off. She was having none of it, of course.
"You're not fine." And she meant it. There was a thinness to him, a hollowness in his cheeks and a shadowing beneath his eyes that told her that he hadn't had anybody to take proper care of him in a long time. "You're going to come home with me and we'll get you cleaned up, and then work from there." He hung his head in defeat, accepting that she wasn't going to be persuaded otherwise.
"What's your name then, little one?" she realized she'd never asked.
"I'm the Doctor," he answered, giving her a bright smile, that didn't quite cover up the weariness in his eyes. Sal considered the odd name, perhaps it was a human thing.
"I'm Sal, and my home is quite close," she gestured in the appropriate direction. "You can't walk though, can you." It wasn't really a question. The Doctor looked sheepish. He'd given up trying to get up while they were introducing themselves, and he fiddled with the lapels of his jacket now to keep his hands busy. "No," came the quiet answer.
"It's all right, I can help." He looked skeptical but she set down her shopping and reached out. She pulled him up and helped him lean against the wall, balanced on his good foot. "Ready?" she asked and he looked confused. She plucked him up again and with a minor effort lifted him onto her back.
"Woah! You're stronger than you look," he exclaimed delightedly.
"Yes, but you are also very small," she said as she gathered her shopping again. "Hold on so you don't slide off," she instructed him and she felt him get a firm grip of her outer windings in response.
Sal carried him the few blocks home and up to her apartment. Her children raced into the entryway to greet her when she opened the door, but stopped short when they spotted her passenger.
"Is that a Human, Mummy?" the older of the two asked.
"Who is he?" piped up the younger.
"Shhsh, darlings. This is the Doctor. I found him on my way home and he seemed in need of some help." The Doctor had settled in and seemed to have been lulled almost to sleep by the gentle motion of traveling. He perked up at the sound of the excited children, sitting up as best as he was able and peering down at the children who were looking curiously back up at him.
"Hello there," he spoke kindly down to them, giving them a friendly wave.
Sal settled the Doctor on the couch and instructed the children to introduce themselves to their guest while she fetched some things. She left the shopping on the kitchen counter and went to get the first aid kit. She didn't know exactly how much in the kit would be useful for a human, but she figured that at least some of the items she kept for herself and her children would be helpful. She got a damp cloth from the bathroom and brought everything back to the living room.
The Doctor was getting on quite well with the children. The older one had introduced herself as Larna and her younger brother was Pingen, but he was called Ping mostly. The Doctor marveled at the diversity of life in the universe for about the millionth time, despite centuries of traveling all of space and time. He'd never been to Alba Minor before, and he'd been so busy with the Hoix he'd not actually had a chance to interact with the locals up close. The evolutionary story that had led to giant sentient yarn balls being the dominant species of the planet must have been absolutely fascinating and he made a mental note to explore it in person once he was back in the TARDIS. In the mean time he mused that children everywhere were the same, and just as wonderful. The little girl was inquisitive and in no way intimidated by the fact that he was both an adult and a stranger,(although he did notice she tugged at her pink bow a bit embarrassedly when her mother came back into the room and reminded her it was rude to ask so many questions of a guest.) The Doctor assured them that it was quite alight. Ping was mostly quiet, deferring to his sister, but watched the Doctor raptly as Larna's questions were answered, seemingly taking in every detail. The Doctor quirked a smile when he noticed that the child wore a tiny billed cap with a little propeller on top that spun when he moved about quickly.
Sal watched the Doctor interact with her children and noted how he brightened. There was still a sadness about him, but it was muffled. The loneliness temporarily relieved and there was a sort of exuberance in him that seemed to lurk just under his skin and outshone the tired lines of his body when called forth.
"Now, let's see what seems to be the trouble, shall we?" Sal gently nudged the children out of the way, positioning herself in front of the couch. The Doctor leaned forward and removed his left boot and sock, before gingerly rolling up his trouser leg. Sal gasped when she saw the extent of the damage. There was a nasty wound burned across the inside of his ankle that looked like it might have been caused by some sort of energy weapon. The skin around the wound was slightly blackened and bright scarlet blood was oozing from the damaged flesh in the middle. She hurried to begin cleaning the blood away as it started to gather and trickle down his foot. The Doctor hissed when she ran the cloth over the wound itself.
"I'm not sure exactly how to treat a human wound," she confessed as she finished cleaning the wound.
"That's all right, you're doing fine, and a knowledge of humans wouldn't help you that much anyway since I'm not a Human," the Doctor replied distractedly as he examined his injury.
Confused, Sal inquired "I don't mean to be rude, and I have not met many aliens in my time… But what are you, if not Human?"
"Oh, I'm a Time Lord. Don't blame you for the mistake, tremendous resemblance, Humans and Time Lords."
"I've seen Humans in the market, but I've never heard of Time Lords before."
"Wouldn't have. I'm the last after all," his voice became very sad as he said it and his eyes emptied of all the spark they had gained speaking to her children. Her heart broke for this shattered creature, and she vowed that she would not let him leave her home as badly wounded as he had arrived into her care.
There are things for which words will never be enough, and Sal knew this. So she pulled the Doctor close and held him tightly. He did nothing to protest and after a moment she felt him return her embrace. The children climbed up the other side of the couch and across the back to position themselves behind the Doctor, joining in the embrace, and surrounding their new friend with their warmth.
"Thank you," the Doctor whispered when they finally pulled apart, and she saw the glint of a tear in the corner of his eye.
"You're very welcome, Doctor," she answered just as softly and turned back to the task at hand. She sent the children off to play in the bedroom and then she and the Doctor went through the contents of the first aid box, sorting out what might be of use, and what would be better used to treat her own kind. Eventually they had clened and bound the wound to both their satisfaction, through a combination of the Doctor's knowhow, and Sal's gentle attentions honed from treating the myriad of minor injuries that every parent of rambunctious children becomes familiar with. When she'd done all she could for his injuries, she coaxed him to sit back on the couch and draped a soft throw over him.
"I have to go prepare dinner now. Just rest here a while and I'll call you when it's ready." The Doctor nodded absently, already turning his attention to the vid-screen the children had left on across the room.
The children eventually followed the sounds and smells of food being prepared into the kitchen she let them help her prepare the meal. The two took to the small tasks of cleaning vegetables and fetching cups of water with the diligence of most young children given an opportunity to aid and adult.
When Sal went back to call her guest to dinner she discovered him dozing lightly through the voices of news presenters from the telly. He had curled himself into the corner of the sofa and pulled the throw snuggly up around himself. He looked, she thought, like no more than a child when he wrinkled his nose as a stray piece of his fringe fell and tickled it. She hated to wake him but she needed to make sure he ate a decent meal, so she brushed the blanked off his shoulder and nudged him awake.
"Doctor, dinner is ready." He blinked awake and sat up quickly, startling her. She guided him into the kitchen and corralled him into a seat at the table, ignoring his token protests that he ought to be off.
When she moved the pot to the table though, he couldn't hide his curiosity and reached to remove the lid himself, only to have his hand swatted away with a pot holder. Sal carefully removed the hot crockery lid and placed it out of the way on the stove where no one would accidentally burn themselves on it. The Doctor practically squealed with delight when he saw what was in the pot.
"Oh! That's magnificent! Amazing! Perfect! He crowed, while leaning in to get a better look. Sal quickly offered him the serving spoon, half afraid that he was going to stick his hands right into the pot in his enthusiasm.
The Doctor's expressions of delight were only mostly quieted when everyone had been served and he was shoveling forkfuls of bowtie pasta into his mouth while humming appreciatively. Sal watched the radiant smile that split his face between bights as he enjoyed what he'd declared his new favorite food (aside from fish fingers and custard, apparently).
When they had finished eating every last bowtie shaped noodle they returned to the living room. Somewhere between the table and the living room threshold the Doctor had launched into a story about the invention and spread of pasta throughout the known universe and his own improbably role in it all. Before long he was sitting cross-legged in the middle of the room with the children crowed around him, spinning fantastic yarns about the places he'd been and the amazing creatures that inhabited them. He embellished his tales with wild gestures and vocal impressions that had the two children listening with rapt attention as Sal watched from the couch.
The stories escalated into reenactments which led them through the whole apartment. Into closets and under tables they trekked their way through diverse alien landscapes, rescuing innocent beings and fending off ferocious predators. In what felt like a much shorter time than the hours it must have been, it was bed time. The children were rubbing their eyes, and Sal caught the Doctor stifling a yawn. Despite their protests, Sal declared it time for all space explorers to get ready for bed and herded everyone out of the living room.
It took almost twice as long as usual with the Doctor's antics thrown into the mix, but Sal eventually corralled everyone into the bedroom. The family slept together on one comfortable mass of cushions, as was common for the natives of Alba Minor. The bedding was too inviting and the Doctor was too tired to put up much of a fight when Sal pulled him down to rest with her and her spool.
She watched as the Doctor quickly followed her children into restful slumber, noticing how the almost invisible lines of tension left his face when he slept. The Doctor's wounds were healing at a spectacular rate. He'd hardly been limping when playing with the children and the cut on his face had already begun to fade. She knew that she'd have to let him go in the morning. As much as she'd love to keep him and mother him, he had his ship to be getting back to. He'd be all right this time, but she hoped that he'd find someone to look after him soon. He looked like he'd been running for a long time, and everyone needs to be reminded to stop and rest every once in a while.