Disclaimer: Property of the BBC

I saw a clip of the new Doctor today and felt inspired to write this. This is just something I've been thinking on and if I get enough reviews/more idea's I may write more. But for now it's just intended as one chapter. It is not polished so please don't be too critical of grammar etc!

Summary

The TARDIS is dying and the Doctor needs help to mend it. He must return to the planet where it was made if there is any hope. Eleven and Amy, mentions of Ten/Rose and OC


Singer

"Fire!"

The Doctor barely glanced up. "Extinguisher's in the corner," he muttered, attention fully on the TARDIS console as Amy Pond engaged in some crisis management. Putting out fires as it were. The TARDIS groaned loudly as the metal struts that supported the ceiling creaked and began to splinter. The Doctor grabbed a fistful of hair and continued to press buttons fervently, whispering repeatedly, "I am so sorry my darling machine, so so sorry."

The TARDIS was sick and had been since she had crashed into Amy's front garden. No longer a shiny new machine, the TARDIS had been irrevocably damaged and now, despite the Doctor's spit and glue, she was falling apart.

The ship shook violently as the TARDIS dipped out of time into another, falling through the time vortex. Amy wrapped her arms around one of the supports and closed her eyes. This wasn't how she wanted to die. "What are we going to do Doctor?" she yelled over. The Doctor glanced at her despairingly, "Amy, I don't have the answer for everything." The causal tone of his voice made it seemed that she had asked why there were no penguins at the North Pole.

Now feeling lightly hysterical, Amy called out angrily, more to the room than to the Doctor, "Aren't there TARDIS mechanics or something for this kind of thing?!" She heard nothing from the Doctor for a moment, and when she dared to open her eyes to look at him, he was frozen with his hands still in his hair, a large grin spreading across his face.

"Amy," he cried, "You are a genius!" He looked up at the pulsating lights above him and asked softly, "What do you think old girl? Can you make it?" Amy was sure she could feel the TARDIS humming in accord and the Doctor must have felt it too because he was grinning again, turning dials. His hand paused over a large, ominous red button. "You'd better hold on tight," he said, this time to Amy, "This is going to get very, very bumpy."

Her eyes widened, "Doctor what are you going to do?" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively at her and then punched the button. The TARDIS dropped and with it Amy's stomach.


When the sensation had come back to Amy's legs, she realised that they had stopped falling. It was dark now in the TARDIS and the whole thing seemed to be switching herself off as if the travelling machine had used the last of her energy and collapsed. Amy found herself confronted with a pair of tweed legs and forced herself to look up into the Doctor's face. "Don't ever do anything like that again," she muttered, taking his offered hand and letting him pull her to his feet.

"Oh never fear, dear," he said breathlessly, "I won't be in a hurry!' His face looked drained and the hand that gripped Amy's was clammy and hot. He gave it a brief squeeze before dropping it and making his way over the debris to the door. "Lets see if we made it!"

He made it to the door to find it blocked by an iron strut. Sighing, he pushed up his sleeves and took hold of an edge. Amy appeared at his side and together they heaved the heavy bar out of the way. Grimly, the Doctor squared his shoulders and pulled open the door.

They were in a large, dimly lit room. Amy could just make out a wall to their left and in it a small door, just big enough for a man. "Where are we?" The Doctor stepped out into the room and turned round to smile at her.

"The very edge of time and space." She still stood in the doorway of the TARDIS, feeling safer there than in the empty room.

"Does that mean we made it?" she asked. The Doctor nodded cheerfully, "Yup, this is where, as you put it, TARDIS mechanics should be." Amy peer into the darkness.

"Doesn't look much like a garage," she said to herself and gingerly took a step into the room. The TARDIS promptly disappeared. She shrieked slightly and grabbed the Doctor's arm. He, however, seemed relatively undisturbed by his time machine vanishing and rolled his eyes at the woman clutching at his elbow.

"We have to wait now," he explained, taking a seat on the floor, "Until they are ready to see us." Amy followed suit and nearly yelped. The floor was very cold.

"Why can't we go straight in?" The Doctor tilted his head back to look at the ceiling before answering, "Because my little human, they may be seeing someone else and because this is the edge of time and space it would not be smart to see anyone from a different dimension. You could find out something you're not supposed too." There was a pause and then the Doctor felt Amy lay down next to him. " So what do we do?" He shrugged and said again,

"We wait."


They waited for what felt like hours. Had the TARDIS not disappeared, the Doctor was going to suggest that they play scrabble. Most of his former companions had not enjoyed playing with him due to his extensive vocabulary but Amy loved the challenge and was adamant that she would one day beat him. He was about to suggest they play noughts and crosses when suddenly the door in the wall began to open.

Light flooded the room causing them both to flinch as it hit their eyes. The Doctor sprang to his feet, pulling Amy with him. "That's who we've been waiting for," he whispered excitedly in her ear. Amy strained her eyes against the light to make out the silhouette of the figure waiting in the doorway.

It was female and as the glare faded, Amy could see that it was a small pixie like girl, her hair cropped short so it was possible to see the points of her ears. She had black streaks on her face and in her fair hair. Her dark clothes with dirty and torn but she seemed to exude serenity making Amy feel calmer almost immediately. The pixie nodded in their direction and stepped to onside to admit them through the door. The Doctor grabbed Amy's hand and pulled them past the pixie.


The door led onto what Amy could only describe as the largest garage she had ever seen. It was more like a shipping yard, complete with docks and cranes, fitted into a large warehouse. She span in a slow circle taking it all in. Both the Doctor and the other woman seemed to be enjoying her reaction as they exchanged smiles.

"Time Lord," the woman nodded her head at the Doctor, "My name is Singer." The Doctor frowned as he held out his hand, " I'm the Doctor, sorry did you say Singer?"

Singer ignored him, "The Doctor?" she demanded. He nodded hesitantly. She laughed a little, "How odd," and then "Shall we?" Singer indicated and headed towards a large black square which had been painted on the floor in the middle of the warehouse and that was surrounded by switchboards and monitors.

The Doctor glanced at Amy to ensure she was keeping up before jogging after Singer. "Sorry," he said once he caught her up, "But did you say Singer? Not a singer or one of the Singers?" They had reached the square and Singer had busied herself with the switches. "If it would make you feel more grammatically correct you may call me the Singer," she said over her shoulder calmly. The Doctor stopped suddenly. "How can you be the Singer?" he asked slowly. She turned to look at him sympathetically, "Because I am the last, Doctor."

The Doctor shook his head fervently, "You can't be the last. The last time I was here, there were hundreds of you, thousands! A race just doesn't disappear." She smiled at him sadly and turned back to her switches. The familiar sound of time and space filled the room causing Amy to hurry over. The TARDIS began to slowly materialise, floating just above the black square at a 45-degree angle.

"They do when they have nothing left to sing for, Doctor," Singer said quietly as she moved past him. He said nothing and instead stared at his blue box. The singer began to walk around the square, looking at the machine from each side and angle.

"Doctor," Amy pulled at his sleeve, "What's a singer?" He was silent for a moment as he considered the woman working on his box and when he did speak, he was sad.

"They made the TARDIS……"


……..TARDIS coral is not made, it has to be grown. It is like a crystal, it must develop over time. And to make it grow the Singer's would sing to their spores. From the coral's TARDIS's were made, or rather made around pieces of this coral. The coral is what allows for time travel, it's power allowed Time Lords to access the time vortex. The Singer's were our engineers, our mechanics. Because they had nurtured each individual coral, knew it's personality as it were, they always knew what was wrong. That's what this place is. A TARDIS dock. There used to be hundreds of Singers but with there being no more Time Lords…….



The Doctor paused. "She is the last?" Amy asked quietly. He nodded, "And it's my fault." His voice cracked a little as Singer came towards them. "What's the prognosis, Doctor?" he sounded so falsely chirpy that Amy cringed. Singer smiled at Amy and then turned to the Doctor grimly.

"You have been misusing you TARDIS, Doctor," she scolded, "The coral has had no rest, no time to recharge. I'll bet you haven't even been singing to her!" She tutted exasperatedly when he shook his head ashamed. "The coral must rest and re-grow. It has to be nourished…"

"How long?" the Doctor interrupted timidly. Singer shrugged and pulled a face.

"A few days at least. A week probably."

The Doctor grimaced. "Looks like we'll be staying a while."


The change in the TARDIS was noticeable within just a few days. Singer let them back inside on the second day and the TARDIS physically hummed with pleasure as the Doctor entered, conveying how much she had missed him. He'd patted the console gently and settled himself in his chair.

It was on the fourth day, that the Doctor decided to tell Singer about Gallifrey. He joined Singer as she sat outside the TARDIS doors, softly singing to his time machine. "It's a lullaby," she said quietly as he sat down beside her, "She likes it." She patted the wooden frame of the blue box and turned her head to look at the Doctor, "You look as though you have something to say Doctor," He opened his mouth hesitantly and then licked his lips.

"I'm not quite sure where to begin," he confessed gingerly, "It, well concerns you, and me, and home. My home that is, not your home cause that's here and I don't want to talk about here but it effects here and…."

Singer took his hand quickly, "Doctor, I know about Gallifrey and the Time Lock. You don't have to explain, someone already did." He looked comically confused, his hair pointing in different directions from his constant playing with it. "How could you know?" She sighed and let go of his hand.

"I may be the last Singer, and you maybe the last Time Lord but this isn't the last TARDIS." She gave him a few moments, and when he still looked confused she continued. "He found away. He was here, with her, not long ago. They're happy." Realisation dawned on the Doctor's face.

"Rose?" Singer nodded gently. The Doctor jumped him, his face alive with excitement and happiness, "They're alive. And he found a way!? A way to carry on travelling?" Singer nodded again, laughing as the Doctor clapped his hands to his face in disbelief, "Noooo!" He whooped once more and then threw himself at her feet. "Thank you," he said quietly, reaching out to touch her face. There was silent as she pressed her own hand to his. Then, "So which of us was better looking? I personally thing that older model looked a little too rugged, you know, kind of Scottish?"

She laughed again, "What's Scottish?"


By the sixth day the TARDIS was practically ready to go. The time coral was fully recharged and the TARDIS felt happy, buzzing from the energy. Amy was looking forward to leaving. Although she was grateful to Singer, the warehouse was not as exciting as it had first been and she wanted the Doctor to herself again. The Doctor was straightening his bow tie in a mirror that hung on the console and as he saw her looking, he winked. "Looking forward to travelling again?" She nodded.

"Where can we go?" He span round and grabbed her hands, "Wherever you want to go! So long as it's exciting!" Amy laughed and let him spin her round. They were interrupted by a knock from the open door. It was Singer, smiling at them in her sad way. "Singer!" the Doctor cried cheerfully, "You must come with us! You can't be here on your own anymore." Amy felt her face fall and if Singer saw that she said nothing.

"No, Doctor," she replied firmly, "My place is here, in case any others come." His face fell then too and he looked so much younger.

"But what will you do until then?" She smiled at him, this time with no sadness.

"Oh who knows, corals may still yet grow." The Doctor returned her smile.

"I do hope so. Then we may see you again."


The sound of the universe once again filled the warehouse and Singer was left starring at the empty black square. She sighed and took a small phial from her pocket. Inside was a small glowing piece of pink rock that she'd harvested from the TARDIS, and as she spoke it shone brighter.

"I'm counting on you, little one.


I know, I know quite random!

But I hope you like it!

Please let me know

Terriah.