Hey guys,
So this is my second Doctor Who fan fiction. It's basically a diary that never happened, but I'm a slightly older character, like everything that happened in my life happened a few years later. (That probably doesn't really matter to you, I'm just explaining that to my friends who may read this eventually, haha.) Anyway, it's slightly more realistic in terms of our universe, so this could happen to any Whovian. Just toying with the idea, though I will continue. Hope you like it! Please give me tips, as I'm struggling a bit with conversations. I can't seem to get the Tenth Doctor's personality quite right when he talks.
(also, forgive my horrible chapter ending here. LOL)
ENJOY! :D
DOCTOR WHO?
I stare up at the ceiling of my bedroom idly. The blue canopy is only three feet above my face, but I can't see it because of the darkness created by both the black curtains and the night. My top bunk creaks as I roll over onto my side. My sister mumbles incoherently in her sleep. Even my parents are in bed, despite the fact that eleven isn't all that late for them. For me, it's early. I can never sleep at night. My mind keeps me awake.
Two months. It's been two months since Pinterest, Netflix, and tumblr introduced me to the show called Doctor Who. I never thought that a mere (well, I used to think "mere"!) TV show could change my life, but it has. I see the world in a different way. Anything is possible. And yet nothing ever happens to me. Ever.
Sometimes I think I hear the TARDIS in the distance, but it's always false hope, created by my yearning imagination. The worst part is, I always know that it's false hope. I want to believe that the Doctor exists so much that I do. Sometimes, it's too hard to bear, knowing that he probably couldn't exist (I mean, there's a TV SHOW about him!), but another part of me is incredibly hopeful and sad believing that he does exist but probably will never come for me.
It's a tough situation. It really is. But I've developed a few theories:
He exists, but he created TORCHWOOD so that he could cover up, pretending that it's all fake, and made Doctor Who into a TV show, selecting actors that looked similar to himself and companions, and giving ideas and storylines to the unknowing creators. Sort of like the way that Martha told stories to the world in the Year That Never Was. So many of the events were real, though not ever single detail was exact.
We live in Pete's World (aka Rose's parallel universe) and Rose Tyler wanted to tell the world of the Doctor's story (again, like Martha did) and possibly got information of what happened later on through rifts in time or something. Not really sure how that would have happened though, so this theory is less likely.
I have a few more, but they aren't as logical or realistic or complete. It's too much to think about now, anyways. By this rate, I'll be up until four in the morning, and tomorrow's Sunday, which means that it's my last day to sleep in. And I have problems with sleeping in. Well, I wouldn't mind sleeping in, but sleeping in just doesn't agree with me, so my mental alarm wakes me up at around seven every day. So I should probably stop thinking of theories about the Doctor being real. It'll just make me even sadder, anyway.
I prepare to sleep, closing my eyes and hugging my stuffed tiger close to my chest, my teddy blanket (Pooh Bear) wrapped around my shoulders. I still sleep with them, although most people would consider me to old to keep them. I don't care; they comfort me.
I'm drifting off when I suddenly hear a very strange noise. It sounds like the TARDIS, but lower in pitch, almost angry. I must be dreaming. Even so, I get hopeful, so I clamber out of bed, change into jeans and a loose tee, tug on a pair of red Converse, and walk out of the front door, careful to lock it behind me. I stuff the keys and my phone into my back pocket and look around.
We have a set of wide, low steps going down to the street and a carport on the left. It's a very quiet street in the hills, and the moon shines brightly in the sky above our little apple tree. Nothing seems out of the ordinary. I start to turn around, but then something catches my eye. A black silhouette crosses my vision at the end of our road, and I almost don't believe what I see. I follow in the general direction and round the corner.
Just outside of our hedge, I see the figure walking down the road, lit by ghostly white streetlamps. My jaw drops open noiselessly. A pale brown coat swishes on a tall, skinny frame. A pair of creamy Converse high-tops stick out from a few inches of darker brown pinstriped-suited legs. A mop of incredibly fluffy, gravity defying, chocolate brown hair flares out above the coat, and I make a small, whimpering noise with my mouth.
"Oh. Oh my god. Oh my GOD."
I made a wish. I made a wish. All those nights ago, I made a wish. Is it possible?
I don't even question it. I don't think about doubting myself. Whatever happens, I'm going wherever that man goes. I'm afraid, but it's a good fear. A strong fear, it's an excited fear. And I take a word of advice: Run.
I see that beautiful blue box at the very end of the other street, hiding beneath a gnarled tree. I run faster.
Something old.
The man grabs a hold of the worn handle. My legs pump harder.
Something new.
He doesn't look directly at me, but he pauses.
Something borrowed.
He smiles fondly up at the glowing letters at the top.
Something blue.
He doesn't wait any longer, and opens the dusty blue door, slipping inside. Just before they close, I scream out a single word.
"DOCTOR!"
The door stops half an inch from closing. And that's when I know.
This isn't a dream. This is real. THIS is REAL. I am NEVER leaving. EVER.
He opens up the door completely, warm light glowing from the inside.
"What?" His face scrunches up and his voice has the same tone as he always does. I almost want to giggle upon hearing it in person. I wonder how this can be possible. None of my theories said that David Tennant looked and acted exactly like the real Doctor.
Then I realize something. What am I supposed to say?
"Hi. Um. I'm really sorry. I heard the TARDIS and it sounded a bit angry and I wanted to see if I could help." No. Wait. I shouldn't have said that. Now he thinks I'm some sort of stalker.
"How do you know what the TARDIS is?" The Doctor asks, sounding utterly bewildered.
"Well… I… um…"
"Hang on. Let's see. Where am I?"
"We're in Los Angeles. Hollywood Hills. It's 2013 on a Saturday night, at exactly 11:03 PM, to be exact. Not sure what universe, though. Do they have names?"
He's giving me a somewhat shocked look, but goes on. "Okay. So. How do you know who I am?"
Should I tell him? Is it safe?
"Doctor Who."
"What? I thought you-"
"No. It's a television show on BBC. It's been going on for a very long time. I've been watching since the reboot, which was in 2005."
"What's it about, then?"
"You."
"Me? How is that possible? This is a parallel universe! There's only one of me!"
"Don't ask me!"
"Okay. Let's start again. What about me, exactly?"
I tell him about Rose, and the Daleks, and everything that's happened so far, but only up to the middle of season 4. Then I ask him a question.
"How old are you?"
"Why do you ask?"
"Just tell me. I know a lot about you, I don't think it'll surprise me."
"Alright. I'm 1107."
"Right. Good." I sigh with relief. So the end of season four and everything past it never happened. He didn't regenerate.
"I have to ask, though. What happened with the Master?"
He looks at me with dark eyes. "He sent Rassilon back to where he belonged, and I picked up all the pieces that he left behind."
"And Wilf?"
"We managed to fix the system and get him out of there. Wait. But how do you know about Wilf?"
"The television show had a…. a different ending."
The Doctor is silent, seeing the tears brimming in my eyes. "Do I want to know what happened?"
"No. I can't…. I can't tell you. It never happened, but I don't think it would be good for either of us if you did."
"No. It wouldn't." We're both silent for a moment, and then he starts to talk again. "So. We should probably figure out this mystery, eh? How I came to be in this parallel universe – and it must be, because I've never heard of a show about me before, and with such an uncanny similarity between looks and events as you say – actually, it's pretty exact. It's quite strange, if you ask me. To start off, what's your universe like? What's been happening?"
"The same things as in your universe, judging by the television show. There's iPhones and laptops and no blimps flying over London. Pretty basic stuff."
"Actually, can I see your mobile for a moment?" His eyes sparkle as an idea pops into his head.
"Sure."
I hand the Doctor my iPhone, glad to be of help. He takes out his sonic screwdriver, which is still its same old blue self, no added green or red lights like in season five. I grin as he sonics my phone and images flash over the screen with incredible speed.
"Right. This universe is exactly the same as mine. Very odd. I wonder…"
He frowns for a moment, one eyebrow cocked. Then he jumps. "Oh! Oh, of course! That's what's different!" He runs back into the TARDIS excitedly, taking my hand. It's exactly like I thought it would be: bigger on the inside and absolutely fantastic. The Doctor rushes to one of the TARDIS screens and taps something into a keyboard. I see an image of Cardiff appear in a strange lighting.
"This shows all of the energy readings, dark blue being low, bright yellow being high. Look at this." The Doctor runs his screwdriver along a line of buttons on the monitor and the colors change. A blindingly yellow area spans along the image in a horizontal line on the concrete. The rest of the image is dark. I realize where it is.
"That's the Rift, isn't it?"
"Yes. I'll have to go to Cardiff to check this out, and charge up the TARDIS while we're at it as well. That's in your show, too, isn't it?"
"Everything, as far as I know."
"Okay. That's a bit disconcerting." He grins at me.
"Should I stop? Am I acting stalkerish?" I'm actually worried for a moment, but then he laughs.
"No, no it's fine. You can come with me, if you'd like, since you know so much already."
"Really? You're really asking me this?"
"Why not? I can't have you running around and telling the world I'm real now, can I?"
"So it's just a safety precaution?" I deflate angrily.
"No! Not at all! I didn't mean… Oh, just come with me! It's what you want, isn't it? We can get to know each other along the way! Allons-y!"
There aren't any second thoughts whatsoever. I smile at him and close the TARDIS doors, finalizing my decision. Then I walk over to the console, running my hands along the controls like I've been doing it all my life. I guess I have, in my imagination. I can't wait for my own adventure to finally begin!
End note:
Okay. Again. Bad chapter ending, sorry. Reviews are welcome! :) Thank you all! Next chapter will be up ASAP!