In response to the approaching 3rd Series, I have decided to revisit and revise my Doctor Who fan-fiction, notably by changing its premise and extending it out into a full-fledged adventure.
Disclaimer: I do not own Doctor Who, it is a property of the BBC.
To Move On
The Doctor stepped back into the TARDIS, shaking his head…he didn't know whether he wanted to laugh or to cry, these last few hours with Donna had been…well, what's a good word for annoying? No, it hadn't always been like that, she really had been nice sometimes and, yes, she had been taken advantage of, there was no doubt about that and he couldn't fault her for all of her…faults. All in all, he knew that he would remember it, even if he didn't want to, and he decided that he might as well give her one last thrill.
He stepped up to the console and flipped some switches, banging here and there while the TARDIS gave a wheeze…the old ship really wasn't up to the task of giving such a dramatic take-off, not after all it had just been through, but the Doctor insisted on the spectacle for the sake of putting a good face on, for the sake that he might as well start off the next phase of his existence, Rose-less, with a bang. When the TARDIS shot up into the sky, the Doctor strapped into the cushioned seat, the entire ship shook as sparks flew from the console and the alarm buzzed, the screen flickering with the standard Gallifreyian warning popped up on it before it faded. For a moment, the interior lights completely turned off as the Doctor sat in the darkness, breathing heavily as he half-expected to feel the vacuum of space soon…but power returned to normal and he sighed, the TARDIS had survived its blast-off into space.
He undid the straps and stood up, walking back to the console as he examined the instruments, calling up diagnostics on his screen to double-check, tapping on the time rotor to triple-check, then he bent down and pulled up the grating hatch as he slipped into the sub-floor level, slithering amongst the wiring as he quadruple-checked…no use. The Doctor groaned and managed to climb back out of the grating hatch, wincing to himself at the strain, before he leaned against the console and tried to decide what to do. On the one hand, he could just keep going and try to ignore it…on the other, he could just keep going with the TARDIS drifting while he slipped away into the workshop and finagle a replacement while in-flight…or he could just land somewhere immediately and work on the repair. However, the problem about stopping was that he wasn't exactly sure that he could jump-start the TARDIS into working order afterwards…even though his ship could ride the sonic and the slipstreams of time and space, it was still a phone box in physical form, not a rocket.
Another problem caused by Donna…inadvertently, of course. It had been his own stupid choice to do this again…the same with draining the Thames River…he shuddered now as he realized how he had watched the Empress screaming in pain inside the chamber, how he had almost been pleased by it, perhaps Donna was right about him needing…someone. Well, it made no difference now in his current circumstance, not when he had to fix the TARDIS, and so he decided that, rather than risk implosion or accidentally colliding into a planet, he might as well stop off somewhere. The Doctor jerked a lever and the TARDIS slowed in its flight as he tried to pinpoint a planet…yes, that looked promising, not a lot of activity, obviously an undeveloped planet and so as a good a place as any to lay low. As he pushed a button, instantly materializing the TARDIS in the middle of a jungle on the planet, he turned away from the console and strode out of the main control room, walking down the narrow corridor of his vessel before he stepped into another room, the lights flashing on in here to reveal a pile of odds and ends. Here, the Doctor stored the old components of his TARDIS that had either failed or hadn't suited him after the course of a regeneration, here he unloaded the technology that he had found during his travels, here he had created and, ultimately, dismantled some of his inventions, here he had manuals and tools, including several failed attempts at a sonic screwdriver and the mess that was supposed to have been a sonic telescope…if he dug around, maybe he would find a robot or two.
He paused to consider the merits of a robot, but decided against it right now, it was a poor substitute and he wasn't desperate…not just yet. He grabbed a manual and flipped through some of the pages, reading and puzzling over the instructions until he realized that it was the manual that had originally come with the holographic food mixer that he had once bought on the planet of Mastowark. He tossed that aside and glanced around, trying to find…he smiled and swept aside some of the junk, then pulled forward the now clear bench as he sat down, pulling his glasses out of his pocket as he proceeded to snatch up some tools and spare parts.
Time passed by as he worked, adjusting a few screws and occasionally rerouting some cables, trying not to think too much about the silence and the stillness…he had been trapped, many times before, with nothing to do. He had been locked away, tortured as well, a few times he had been threatened with beheadings, burning at the stake, and the universally infamous Wazkartcha gorge slice. Yet he had managed well enough on those occasions, he even smiled now as he thought that it was quite likely that he might have experienced more close-calls than Captain Jack Harkness had…personally, the worst imprisonments for him had always been mental, not physical. Yes, the Doctor reflected, the fear of losing his sanity on those occasions had been all too real for him…still, he had survived those trials adequately enough, though with some embarrassment, and escaped without any severe damage to his self.
However, he knew that his luck couldn't last forever and he had a feeling that these next few days and months certainly wouldn't be easy, it was crucial for him to readapt to life on his own after having lost so much…suddenly, there was a distant crash and the TARDIS rumbled. The Doctor nearly dropped the piece that he had been working on as he leapt to his feet, but he caught it and gripped it tightly as he raced out of his workroom and down the corridor, stepping into the main control once more. He laid the replacement piece onto one of the cushions, he would work on that once he discovered what was happening, and tried to figure out where the crash had come from…there was another rumble, this time he realized that it was coming from outside of the TARDIS. The Doctor inhaled deeply and strode down the ramp, pushing open the door.
Author's note: Originally, this fanfiction wasn't supposed to have much of a plot, just a few reflective scenes, but I have decided to progress onward from my first scene and create a new adventure, taking place right after Doomsday yet with some references to his past adventures. I will post more in a few days, but I will tell you right now that-though there isn't much more of a plot than there was before-I intend to have the Doctor hop around through time and space up to the point where he ends up in the hospital of Martha Jones. Please review, I wish to know if there is some interest here, or if this angle has been done too much already.