The relative dimensional stabilisers had undeniably become heavily damaged in the crash. Only partly operational, imagine wandering through one of those rotating fun houses in which balance passes to be irrelevant. Disorientated by the sudden shift in gravity, the Doctor floundered aimlessly for something to hold onto. He eventually found a railing to his right, and hung on for dear life until his body had adapted to the change. During this phase, the Doctor had time to make sense of his surroundings. The smoke almost entirely opaque, the console room was scarcely distinguishable by features alone, albeit for what the Doctor had assumed to be the console itself, for upon it, occasional red flashing lights would illuminate dimly, and then darken out of view again slowly, bright enough to be noticeable through the obsidian wall of darkness.
"Of course!" the Doctor said suddenly. He fumbled for his screwdriver once again and brought it out from his pocket. Fiddling with it for a brief few seconds, adjusting a few wires here and there, he pressed the button down firmly, and a blinding beam of white light shot out from the screwdriver and pierced the blackness, revealing portions of the console room. The Doctor grinned.
"Primitive, but effective", he muttered softly.
The newly illuminated console room didn't bring much hope to the Doctor however. It was of course, bigger on the inside, but where ever it was pointed revealed more destruction than he would've cared to have seen. The console, almost obliterated, with the remaining functional pieces of hardware merely letting out a lone warning signal. The central column, torn completely away from where it was clearly meant to be attached to the ceiling and the centre of the console, was nowhere to be seen. Elsewhere, singed remains of books, chalkboards, metal plates and railings lay littered about every conceivable corner. This TARDIS was an absolute devastation, and as far as the Doctor could gather, it pained him to admit to himself that there was next to no hope of returning this ship to its former state.
Observing all of this, the Doctor came to a conclusion. While this was his TARDIS on the outside, it was most certainly was not his TARDIS on the inside. All futuristic and complicated, most definitely not his style.
The Doctor let go of the railing slowly and hovered his hand cautiously over it just in case. Satisfied that he had adjusted to the dimensions, he turned, and took a step forward. The metal plate underneath his foot creaked and jarred slightly. He decided to call out.
"Hello?..."
His statement echoed eerily around the room, and through the endless corridors of the ship before dying out. No answer. The Doctor swallowed, and stepped over a splintered chalkboard that mysteriously had a singular word written dead in the centre.
"LISTEN".
Pressing deeper into the console room, the sound of fried electrical circuits was starting to become alarming, and the wails of the ships inner support arches were signalling the console rooms' entire collapse. If there was anyone in this TARDIS, it was vital that the Doctor locate him now.
Before panic of this potential disaster could sink in, the Doctor was made aware of a small beeping originating from his own screwdriver.
"What in the heavens?"
He smacked it against the palm of his hand and then held it to his ear, as if listening for some kind of confirmation. Clearly, it came, when the Doctor, briefly distracted from the danger threatening to envelop him, held the screwdriver out in front of himself, beaming from ear to ear.
"You… You, marvellous thing you!"
Once again, he returned to fiddling with the screwdriver, ignoring the increasingly alarming sounding creaks from above. Turning the torch setting off, he pressed a few wires, gave it a few taps on his arm, and the tip lit up a bright blue, as well as activating a small buzzing noise that sounded every few seconds. Momentarily, the Doctor waited somewhat eagerly in anticipation of something, the buzzing continuing incessantly, searching.
"You've sensed another sonic device haven't you? Wonderful", the Doctor said. "Now where, are you?", dragging out his words.
Almost inaudibly, another buzzing noise, slightly higher in pitch, made itself known. The Doctor spun round instantaneously, and trying to stay wary of the unstable sections of the floor, followed the sound. It was rhythmic, in time with his own, first his, then the other, then his again, and so on. Like a tennis rally. He held the screwdriver at eye level, squinting, trying to deduce where it was coming from, before he let out a cry in shock, nearly tripping over a stray railing and falling through a hole in the ground, in which the central column must had torn through, something the smoke had obscured to him earlier, even with a light source.
Organising himself and his dignity, the Doctor peered into the hole. Nothing visible. Not even the light from the screwdriver would've pierced it. He listened carefully, the signal between the two devices was becoming weaker by the minute.
First his screwdriver buzzed, no response from the other.
His screwdriver buzzed again, and the other device made a strangled attempt at buzzing before the connection between the two was lost. It came from within the hole.
The Doctor rolled his eyes. "Of course it would. Where else? And how would you suggest that I make my way down there hmm?" he called out, his voice reverberating off of the walls once again. An almighty crunch was what sounded in response as one of the support arches behind the Doctor collapsed, spilling dust and rubble all over him. He turned around and opened his mouth to give the poor machine a piece of his mind, when his eye caught glance of a stairway, leading down to underneath the main console. He cleared his throat, shook whatever substance he could from his hair, and stepped as gently as he could onto the first step. It groaned in protest, but it held. The next step was the same, as it was consistently until the bottom, at which the Doctor leaped less than gracefully over a large protrusion of metal that was blocking the staircase.
Now underneath the upper level, the Doctor looked up. He could just about make out the hole in which the central column had fallen through. Following its apparent pathway from the upper level down with his eyes, he crept carefully towards the space at which he assumed the column to be, and saw that his theory had been correct. He eyed it carefully. Somewhere around here, was the secondary sonic device, and perhaps even its owner.
From the bottom, he traced it up. Fragmented remains of an inner glass cylinder lay, shattered and useless. The main column however, was surprisingly intact. Mid-way, the remaining inner tubes stuck out of the side, razor-sharp. Nearing the top, the column's jagged circumference made the Doctor wince. The amount of force that had torn it from its central podium. He shuddered, but nevertheless, continued searching for the device.
A small sparkle caught the Doctor's eye. Believing it to be a remnant of glass, he almost didn't look twice. The glint was a startling blue, and came from close to the column. Smoke and darkness still blinding his vision, the Doctor crouched to take a closer inspection. Finalising that it was not in fact a piece of glass, he reached out for it, and was taken aback in shock when he understood what two things he was looking at.
The first, was the secondary sonic device. About the same length as his own, this model was far more complex, with rising blue light functions on the main node, with a golden symmetrical handle, layered with rivets and bumps.
The second was the hand that was holding it.
Taking in an involuntary sharp intake of air, the Doctor inhaled the fumes and spluttered uncontrollably for a few moments. Once he composed himself, he leant over the column in despair.
On the other side, out of view from where the Doctor was previously standing, was an lifeless figure. A man, aged approximately a little younger in appearance than the Doctor himself. He was dressed in an Edwardian style getup, complete with a waistcoat, shirt, and red velvet coat, all ripped and charred almost to shreds. His facial expression however, was one of someone peacefully sleeping. Cuts and burns covered his face, the smoke had changed the shade of his skin, his wavy silvered hair was a filthy mess, and the column was directly on top of the left side of his body, save for his arm protruding from underneath.
The Doctor thrust two fingers into the underside of the mans jaw. A pulse. It was slow, but it was there.
"Thank the heavens", he breathed.
It appeared as though the central column and fallen directly on top of the man at the moment of impact, the sheer weight and force of the object throwing them like rag-dolls down to the lower level, tearing through the steel flooring as though it were balsa wood.
The Doctor examined the man, his eyes darting over his body, diagnosing possible injures and considering different outcomes. The fall must've at least shattered a few ribs, and as for internal bleeding? The Doctor tried not to think about that. He looked up. The interior of the ship was falling apart like a house of cards. Staring back down at his predicament, he mulled over his options. The most obvious would be to shatter the glass using the sonic, freeing the man. The Doctor shook his head. Of course he couldn't, activating any sort of sonic wave in an environment as unstable as this would surely have destructive side effects. Once again, he found himself, rather against his own will, settling on the most primitive option available.
"Oh, why me?" he questioned fiercely.
He plucked the other sonic from the mans grip and placed both in his pocket, before he stood up and rubbed his hands together, afterwards rolling both sleeves up, before cracking his neck, and then his fingers.
"I'm getting far too old for such nonsense"
He leant back down and positioned his arms in the best position he could underneath the column. With a mighty heave, the Doctor strained every muscle at his disposal. The Doctor had no idea how much it would've weighed, but he would never have anticipated it to have been this much. It was designed to be an essential part of a TARDIS, not a dumbbell. Fragments of glass that were not attached fell and chipped against the floor. The metal grates that had followed through with the column let out a shrill screech, followed by a ugly sounding clang, as it moved them out of place. With gargantuan effort, the Doctor rose, his legs teetering on the brink of folding under him. Never one for giving up, and taking shallow consumptions of air, he tensed, and rotated at a painfully slow rate. At a full 180-degrees from where he started, the Doctor could no longer handle the dead weight of the column, and relinquished his hold. The column hit the ground with a solid thud, shaking the ground somewhat.
The Doctor gasped for whatever air he could, lurched over, hands on his knees. A red mist was beginning to fade over his vision. But he shook it off.
"Not…yet", he grunted.
He arched his back and then staggered over to where the man lay. The damage was now easier to see. The mans shoulder had become violently dislocated from the force at which the column had hit him. There was also a large shard of glass sticking out awkwardly from his side.
There was no time to attempt waking the man up. The Doctor stepped over him, and lifted him up into a seated position. His head lulled forward. Careful not to worsen any unseen injuries, the Doctor lifted the man into his arms. While nowhere near as heavy as the central column, it was still a challenge.
"My dear boy, what is it you eat that makes you weigh such a substantial amount?" the Doctor inquired, almost as a half-hearted attempt at inserting some humour into the setting. Unbeknownst to the Doctor, the mans lips had parted a microscopic amount. He breathed out an attempted formation of words almost subconsciously.
"Ar…Arma…They…li…li.."
The Doctor was far too busy focusing on how to get off of this TARDIS to notice the mans mysterious attempt at speech.
Clambering clumsily over obtrusions, and step after agonising step, the Doctor made his way back to the top of the stairway, ignoring their imminent collapse. He delicately chose the placement of his footing, making sure to keep his journey as calm and as smooth as possible so as to not worsen the injuries the man had already sustained. Retracing his steps, and memorising the spots that housed rubble and ruined innards of the machine, the Doctor caught sight of the only source of natural light, in the form of a rectangular doorway. The mans arm fell limp at his side. Noticing this, the Doctor mildly shook him.
"Now, now my boy. I didn't come this far risking life and limb for you to die on me. Stay with me, do you hear?"
The TARDIS gave one final moan in despair before it let go at last. The supporting arcs all collapsed simultaneously. The roof began caving in, and portions of the ceiling fell like hailstones. The Doctor was merely five strides away from the door. He looked down at the man, he was growing paler with every second. He had no intention of leaving the man behind, but if the Doctor died in his place, what would be the point of his rescue? The Doctor burrowed his eyebrows deep into the bridge of his nose. One chance. He dug in his foot, and hoping that his timing was perfect, pushed off from the ground just as the console room collapsed, the momentum throwing him, and the man out of the door, and onto the hard rocks of the outpost. The doors to the TARDIS shut with a final clap behind them, the muffled rumbling juddering the box.
The Doctor sat up and eyed the doors in horror. He had been under the impression that a TARDIS was indestructible, impervious to destruction of this magnitude. It wasn't just the time vortex and impact that had done this. He was sure of it. The TARDIS doors remained shut tight, and thankfully, the rumbling eventually dissipated. The small light atop of the TARDIS dimmed slowly until the light died out altogether. Silence. The Doctor blinked, and opened his mouth, hesitant to speak his next set of words.
"Thank you" He remarked softly.
The man. The Doctor turned to face him. In the sunlight, the Doctor saw what the darkness prevented him from seeing. It was worse than he originally thought. He crawled over to him and checked his pulse once again. Still alive. Tough guy. The Doctor let out a sigh of relief, and then coughed.
He craned his neck upwards in the direction of the rim of the crater, the sudden change in light affecting his vision. He looked back down at the man, and then rolled onto his back, chuckling.
He lay there for a moment, before rising to his feet and brushing the soot from his hair and clothes.
"Right then young man." He said, sounding oddly calm. Collecting his coat, he lay it over the man as the equivalent of a blanket, and threw his cravat over his own shoulder. He scooped him up from where he lay, and began his trek back out of the crater and back to his own TARDIS.
"It looks to me as though you need a Doctor"