Notes: Although originally intended as a one-shot, I chose to add on an Epilogue in a different narrative style in order to support the focus of the story. If this section is enough for you, that's brilliant. You have my full endorsement in completely ignoring the Epilogue. However,if you feel like you need to know what happens next, or on what basis the plot has developed,the Epilogue was written for you.
Disclaimer: This story is purely for the speculation and exploration of what might happen in an imagined situation. None of the charactersinvolvedare my own but I hope that their portrayal rings as true as possible.
Oblivion – what a blessing…
for the mind to dwell a world away from pain.
(Sophocles)
INSOMNIA
Though he is quiet, the thoughts of the Doctor still struggle to find voice.
Thoughts. Thoughts now moving in a slow kind of motion, a temporal blend of memories and questions. They are a sluggish drove, reminding him that he has never been impervious to dangers such as this. He recalls a time when his mind was sharp and fast, a time when his body could barely contain the energy of his all-consuming notions and wonderfully insane ideas. That time may have been an hour ago or a century ago. Right now, one seems just as likely as the other.
He knows his need to sleep; he also knows Earth's need for his continued enforced insomnia. His own weakness grieves him.
Sitting in the harsh unfamiliarity of an alien cell, he ponders his exact location once more. This isn't his beloved TARDIS; if it were, he would be standing in one of the vast, ancient halls, sustained by the very air inside it. If he were in the TARDIS, he would by no means be tired like this, pushed far beyond the realms of exhaustion. He would be alive, bright-eyed and grinning, bursting with the prospect of a life-threatening challenge. He closes his eyes and recalls the thrill of his ship's unfailing energy sparking through his cells.
But this isn't the TARDIS and he must open his eyes. He feels as if he is dying and the whole Earth with him - for if he sleeps, they will never wake again.
I cannot sleep. I must stay awake.
He repeats the silent command once more into his own waning consciousness, sick now of his own mental voice. He appeals to his former selves but they can be of no assistance here. They slumber on, mere memories, and he wonders if - once - he had been a man strong enough to resist his own desire to give in.
I must not sleep. I have to stay awake.
Every cell aches so much that his body doesn't feel like his own anymore. His eyelids are of lead and he counts each moment by the time it takes to blink; the moments are lengthening.
He wonders where the TARDIS is. He doesn't feel it close.
Can't sleep. Have to stay awake.
What he would give for a reason to smile. He searches through pages of his emotions, faced only with sorrow and guilt. To overcome them, the physical pain would be worth bearing; but he can see no way out of this. He has never been able to release the blame and allow the sadness to lift; his mourning for his race has continued throughout the ages.
Still he finds solace in the few friends he has known.
Don't sleep. Stay awake.
He recalls those he has encountered, those important to him. He thinks of his race, then humankind, then those individuals who have sacrificed their lives for the war; for Earth; for him. With the dawning of despair he wonders if it has all been for nothing.
Stay awake.
He can't even remember why he needs to anymore.
Stay.
He feels his grasp slipping, his focus fading.
Awake.
And as he closes his eyes one final time, he hopes Rose is safe.
A/N: Need to know what happens next? Go onto the Epilogue. Feel that the story has come to its end for you? Feel free to let your imagination fill in any elaboration. Thanks for reading and I hope you'll do me the kindness of areview.