Too little sleep, over thinking and general ….
Doctor Who, Bedtime Stories do not belong to me.
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Bedtime Stories
A
The Doctor sat in the control room of the TARDIS by himself. It was late in the night but he couldn't sleep. He was dead tired but his mind was filled with thoughts of the events of the day.
He and Martha had somehow ended up on a 'runaway' ship, Martha had almost died and he had almost regenerated. He had saved Martha and she had saved him in turn. Everything was fine, ok, perfect. So why couldn't he sleep. He wondered what Martha would have done if he'd regenerated right before her eyes, taken it in her stride no doubt, and accepted him, cared for him.
She would have been there as usual, Martha was always there even when he compared her to others, refused to let her in, ignored her; she stuck with him and enjoyed the adventures as much as he did.
"She was always there," he said aloud.
"Who was?" Martha asked, she was afraid of his answer. He was probably thinking of Rose, perfect Rose.
The Doctor turned, startled, he'd thought that Martha was sleeping.
"No one," he answered quickly, I better stop talking out loud to myself, he thought, she'll really think I'm mad. She'll think that I am a really old mad alien.
"Martha, I thought you were sleeping," he said.
"I couldn't sleep," she told him, walking into the room. She was wearing a big fluffy green gown tied tightly at the waist completely with bunny slippers.
"I guess you couldn't either. We both almost died today, out there, alone," she smiled at him, "I know every day with you is an adventure and we are faced with death but today, it was different."
Yes, the Doctor agreed silently, today he had faced his mortality, he could have regenerated and until that point he'd always thought he was ready. I thought I was ready to die, ready to become someone else. I wasn't ready, he thought, not by a long shot, I am not ready; I still want to be me.
"Doctor?"Martha called him.
"Yes, sorry, sort of blanked out," he said, "couldn't sleep either."
"So, I'm going to make myself a cup of hot chocolate, care to join me?"
"Of course," they went to the kitchen.
"When I was little, my dad used to tell me stories when I couldn't sleep," Martha told him, "at first he would read me fairy tales but later he would make up his own versions of these stories. It was fun and it helped me sleep."
"I can imagine," the Doctor replied.
"So why don't we try it?"
"Try what?" the Doctor wasn't really listening. He had almost died, it's a good thing Martha had been there, he thought, at least she would have held me, kept me safe. Somehow the Doctor always felt safe with Martha, in her arms, her fierce hugs, they made him feel safe.
"Doctor?"
"Yes, tell bedtime stories, why don't you start?"
Martha looked at him; there was something really wrong with him. Maybe she should let him be, deal with his alien stuff. She stood up to leave.
"Don't go," he said, "tell me one of your dad's stories, please."
"Ok."
"There once was this man called John Carpenter, he was a carpenter of course," she began.
"Of course," he interrupted.
"Shh," Martha told him, "you'll get your chance, he was a carpenter, the best there was…"
B
The Doctor picked up the axe and dropped it, it was heavy. He looked around at the chopped wood around him. Had he done all this? He must have because he was aching all over and sweating profusely.
"Daddy," a voice called to him, shaking his trousers. He looked down and saw a little boy smiling up at him. 'Who was this? Where was his daddy?'
"Daddy," the boy said again, "Mummy is looking for you." The boy pulled his hand and dragged him towards a house. 'Where was he?'
"John Carpenter, are you day dreaming again?" a woman wearing a long black skirt, white blouse with an apron over it, said to him.
He looked at her blankly, 'was he supposed to know his woman?'
"Not again," she came down the three steps and took his hand, "it's me Mary, your wife, and we have three boys. You're a carpenter."
The Doctor couldn't believe his ears, he was a carpenter with three children. He smiled uncertainly at the woman looking worriedly at him.
"You've remembered that's good. Peter will be by shortly, you have to finish the Taylors house today."
At the Taylor's house, the Doctor discovered that they had to make the roof, doors and windows. He'd never had so many cuts and bruises in his life, he almost sawed off his hand, and he hammered his fingers and fell off the roof. He had never worked so hard in his life.
"It's good to see that you can actually do a day's work," Peter told him.
"When you first arrived, you couldn't even work for five minutes, you broke more things than you made. I was amazed to hear that you were a carpenter, but look at you now. You are now a real carpenter, worthy of the name and trade."
"You spent more time at the doctor's than you did at work," another man said.
"We thought that maybe you liked the doctor, that doctor Jones was very good looking."
What? The Doctor thought, Doctor Jones? "Doctor Martha Jones?" he asked.
"Yes, Martha Jones."
'Martha he thought, I have to find Martha, where was she? Martha, he said to himself, where are you? Martha? Martha?'
Almost magically the fields and half finished house disappeared. He was back in the TARDIS, sitting in the control room.
C
"What is it?" Martha rushed into the room, "are you okay?"
Martha looked at him; he was covered with cuts and bruises. "Doctor, what happened to you?"
He looked at himself, it hadn't been a dream, and he had been a carpenter, and hurt himself many times.
"I don't know," he replied.
"What? I just left you here a few minutes ago, are you depressed or something?" she hoped the Doctor wasn't trying to kill himself. She found the first aid kit and dressed his wounds.
That evening they sat in the kitchen and Martha decided to tell him another story. "This was my favourite story; I was a princess, almost queen."
"I can't wait to hear it" the Doctor said.
"Here goes, there once lived this beautiful princess in a faraway land. Her name was Martha."
D
The Doctor was in a hallway. "Bring in the next entertainer," a voice said.
The Doctor was ushered into a big room, a throne room.
"What are you going to do?" a man asked him.
"What do you mean?" the Doctor asked.
"How are you going to entertain the princess?"
"Well, I don't know."
"Let's just say he's a dancer," another man said, "the princess likes dancers; he'll have a greater chance of survival."
"What do you mean survival?" the Doctor asked the man. The man looked at him pityingly and shook his head.
"If the princess isn't impressed with you, you are killed immediately."
"Then you'd better say that I am a magician, I can't dance."
"Too late."
"Presenting the Princess Martha Jones of Freedonia," a voice shouted. Martha walked to the throne and sat down, she was wearing a purple gown, complete with a crown of gold, and she looked absolutely amazing. The Doctor was speechless.
"Presenting," he stopped and whispered to the Doctor, "What is your name?" "The Doctor," the man looked at him, "are you sure that's the name you want to use?" The Doctor nodded.
"Presenting the Doctor, dancer extraordinaire," the man said.
Martha looked up interested she liked dancers.
The Doctor stood in the middle of the room wondering what he was going to do, how he was going to get out of this. It reminded him of that Michael Jackson video, Do you Remember the Time? with Eddie Murphy and Iman. 'Michael Jackson could dance and sing he couldn't do either.'
They were all looking at him waiting for him to start. 'Think, think, think' he said to himself.
Princess Martha was tired of waiting, what was the Doctor waiting for? Her guards walked over and began to drag the Doctor out of the room to cut off his head.
He smiled at Martha.
"Wait," Princess Martha said, "stop."
The men were astonished the Princess had never stopped an execution before.
Princess Martha stood up; the men let the Doctor go and he smiled at her and said "Martha."
The throne room disappeared.
E
"Doctor?" Martha asked him, "what is the matter?'
He was sitting in the control room of the TARDIS, apparently day dreaming.
"Supper's ready," she said.
He followed her into the kitchen.
"Are you ready for today's story?" she asked him.
"No," he smiled, "today I'll tell the story" he told her.
"Really? That's great. It's good to know you're getting into the spirit of things."
"There was once this time traveler," he began, "who met a medical student."
"A charming, beautiful medical student, I hope."
"Of course, as if she could be anything but?"
"I can't wait to hear the rest of the story."
"So, let me tell it."
The End.
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