The Doctor's head broke the surface of the water. He gasped for breath and flipped his hair out of his eyes. He swam to the edge of the pool and climbed out. The delicious tang of an apple filled his mind. He looked far up at the console room, tilted sideways, and the doors to the outside. He thought about being one with the air. He thought about gliding through the air, all the way up to the doors. He thought about apples. Crunchy and juicy. He jumped into the air and before he knew what was happening he was shooting into the sky. The air gave way and he plummeted with a scream, trying to catch the air again.
He saw a little girl watching him in surprise. He fell back into the TARDIS, all the way down to the library, and into the pool again. He climbed out of the pool again and decided to try again. He floated gently into the air. He tried to fly straight up, but he flew sideways and ran into a bookshelf with a groan. He tried again and ran into another one. He finally flew away from the bookshelves. He zig-zagged toward the doorway.
"No, no, no!" He hit his head on the doorway and fell back down. He managed to slow his fall enough that he landed and slid like a leaf gently gliding to the ground.
He sighed in frustration. If his flying wasn't working yet, how was he ever going to get out? How was he ever going to get that juicy apple?
He felt something under his hand. His face lit up, hoping it was an apple. His face fell, realizing it was a grappling hook and rope. What good was a grappling hook and rope? He couldn't eat that. He needed an apple, not a grappling hook and-.
He looked up at the console room. He looked at the rope and back up again. He grinned. "Apples, here I come."
"You all right?" the girl asked, looking down at him.
"Early days. Steering's a bit off," he said. He started to get up and floated off the ground. He waved his arms, struggling to stay upright. "Whoa!"
"How do you fly about like that?"
He finally steadied himself and stood on the air. "It's just a . . . thing I do. But it's not quite working yet." He jumped up and down, trying to get back to the ground. "Come on!"
The girl just stared at him.
"Well, I guess I'll just have to wait," he said. He strode toward the house, six inches off the ground.
"Okay, planet this size, two poles, your basic molten core . . . . They're going to need a forty percent fission blast," the Doctor said.
A tall young man walked in and the Doctor walked up to him, still talking.
"But they'll have to power up first, won't they?" the Doctor continued, "So, assuming a medium-sized starship, that's twenty minutes." He floated a few inches off the ground to be taller than the bewildered man, then floated back down and bent his knees to be much shorter as he talked. "What do you think, twenty minutes? Yeah, twenty minutes. We've got twenty minutes."
"Sorry. Because he can't be there. Because he's-," Rory began.
"In a hospital, in a coma," the Doctor and Rory said together.
"Yeah . . . ." Rory said, a little stunned.
"Knew it. Multi-form, you see?" The Doctor let go of Rory's shirt. "Disguise itself as anything, but it needs a live feed, a psychic link with a living but dormant mind."
Rory seemed distracted, looking at the Doctor's feet. "So what's that then?"
The Doctor looked at his feet. He was standing on the air again. "Oh, not again!" He jumped up and down, but his feet wouldn't touch the ground.