December 23, 2013
"I'm impressed, Time Boy. You actually got it right this time." Came her cheeky response as he opened the TARDIS door and peeked out into the room. There stood Bree in her dark blue school spirit wear sweatshirt and a lighter shade of blue fleece PJ pants, looking quite comfortable as she stood there with a big grin on her face, studying the Time Lord with joy. The Doctor gave a fake harrumph before mock glaring at her for a moment. His resistance finally crumbled after a minute of Bree just smiling at him widely before he walked out of the TARDIS, towards Bree, picked her up, and spun her around in a hug.
"Oi it's not my fault!" The Doctor protested, pulling away and pouting. "It's the TARDIS's fault! Not mine!"
Bree just laughed, mussing with his flop of hair until it hung in his eyes, which wasn't exactly a hard thing to do. "Sure sure." She said before putting her hand in his and pulling him into her bedroom. The first thing the Doctor noticed as he was dragged into the room that, albeit the desk, the room was cleaned of the usual clutter that inhabited it.
"Bree…" The Doctor said as Bree dropped his hand and plopped down on to the bed with a grin. "Have you actually cleaned your room?"
"Gotta make room for the new junk in two days." She shrugged, crossing her ankles as she looked at him from where she lay.
Ah, right. Christmas. The Doctor thought to himself. However, despite the air of calm and the feeling of normality Bree was struggling to sustain, the Doctor could easily see through it.
"What's wrong Bree?" he asked quietly, looking at her concern.
A fleeting look of despair flitted across Bree's face so quickly the Time Lord had a hard time to figure out if he had imagined it before it turned to a seemingly natural calm. "What do you mean?" she asked, acting innocent.
The Doctor sighed, the girl was good at hiding her feelings sometimes, but she didn't need to hide something bad during the Christmas holidays. "You're talking normally." He said, referring to the fact that Bree wasn't faking an English accent like she normally did when she was with him.
The corners of Bree's mouth tugged down slightly. "So?"
For a quiet moment, Bree and the Doctor simply stared one another down, trying to break the other before the Doctor held his arms open, the ancient sadness he carried within overcoming his features as he looked at the poorly mended girl before him. "Come here." He murmured quietly. Bree looked at him with wide watery eyes, her bottom lip quivering before she launched herself into his arms. "Hey, hey!" he whispered into her hair as he hugged her shaking form close as she cried, her tears soaking through his shirt. "It's okay, please don't cry, Bree." Bree shook her head as she pressed her face into the Doctor's chest, wrapping her arms around the Doctor's torso tightly with no intention of letting go. After a while, the Doctor picked up a sobbing Bree then carried her to the bed, and, sitting down, he sat with Bree in his lap and his back against the wall, cradling the crying teenager in arms. "What's wrong, Bree? Tell me." he begged minutes later after Bree had finally quieted down.
There was quite a lot of sniffling before he received an answer. "A year and two days ago I stopped travelling with you." She said, making the Doctor freeze. That had been a traumatic experience for the both of them; another companion loss for the Doctor shortly after losing the Ponds, and Bree's reality slapping her across the face once again.
"You didn't have to leave you know." The Doctor said quietly.
There was another sniffle. "Yeah I did, fixed point in time." Bree said with a slight eye roll. "I knew you were going to be alone and moody again when you met Victorian Clara. I couldn't interfere."
"Well, look at the bright side," the Doctor tried to sound cheery. "Christmas is two days away!" At the mention of this, Bree stiffened significantly in his arms, her eyes squeezed shut as though she were trying to ward off some strange dream. "What is it?" he asked in concern. He knew Bree loved Christmas, so what was she getting all worked up about?
"It doesn't do turkey! Help him change the future! This old thing? Please, been rocking it for centuries! The clock is striking twelve's! The siege of Trenzalore is now begun! You will die in silence! IF YOU WANT MY LIFE, COME AND GET IT!" Bree screamed out the last few words, mocking an English accent, pounding her fists against the Doctor's chest before collapsing into a sobbing heap in the his arms. As he held her there, a feeling of dread overcame him, he knew she hadn't been screaming nonsense, but the words she spoke left him feeling cold… lifeless even. Something about her words was foreboding, as though she saw something, even if it were only for a moment, that he didn't know, and didn't want to know. As if she knew the future…
This time it took longer for her to calm down, but when she finally did, she clung to the Doctor's lapels, and looked at him with wide eyes. "Don't let me go." She whispered in broken agony.
The Doctor's eyes watered at the sight of his usually strong and happy friend, but that was a lie. Bree was never happy, and deep down inside the Doctor knew he only had himself to blame. "Never." He promised, tucking her head under his chin as he held her close for another long period of time.
Finally, after three hours of crying and hugging, the Doctor and Bree managed to hardly collect themselves and now, it was time for the Time Lord to leave. As he paused at the doors of the TARDIS, the Doctor looked down at a red eyed Bree in soft curiosity. "Why don't you want Christmas to come, Bree?" he asked.
Bree stared up at him pleadingly for a moment before responding. "Because you always get yourself into trouble." She replied.
The Doctor laughed, making Bree smile bleakly. "Oh, you shouldn't worry about me." he said.
"I do anyways." Bree told him.
The Doctor looked down at her and sighed before giving her one last tight hug. "Take care of yourself Bree, and don't worry about me." He whispered in her hair.
Burying her face once again into his tear stained shirt, she whispered back "Never."
After what seemed like too little time, the Doctor pulled back, before pressing his lips against Bree's forehead then with a sad smile, got into the TARDIS and closed the doors. And as the TARDIS wheezed and groaned, fading out of sight, Bree whispered to herself, tears once again streaming down her face.
"And now it's time for one last bow, like all your other selves, Eleven's hour is over now; the clock is striking Twelve's."
With this, Bree began to cry again; crying over a story, completely, and utterly alone.