"The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out

You left me in the dark
No dawn, no day, I'm always in this twilight
In the shadow of your heart..."

"How about that one?" Amy asked, pointing one hand upwards to the night sky. The Doctor looked up at the flickering purple star and smiled, his hands resting peacefully on his stomach. This was his ideal night, just laying down in an open field, his companion laying right beside him.

"It's a bit green, up close," He answered with a content sigh.

"That one's flickering," She mentioned.

"Yeah, sorry, thought I fixed that," He replied, furrowing at the violet spec of light. He could see Amy turn her head towards him from the corner of his eye. She looked at him directly, and only waited a few seconds before speaking.

"Who are you," She asked, sounding more curious rather than demanding. The Doctor slowly turned his head to look at her, his smile faint and warm.

"I'm the Doctor," Amy looked directly into his eyes, not even hesitating when she asked another question.

"Doctor who?"

Before the Doctor could even open his mouth, the ground began to shake and crack from under them. Beams of light began to flicker and seep through. The Doctor got up slightly and turned his head every which way. Amy's hand gripped onto the grass tightly as the shaking began to get more violent. The Doctor turned his head to yell Amy's name, but before he could, the ground underneath them burst open, sending them forward only a few feet before sucking them in. Amy let out a shrill cry as they began plummeting further and further down the swirling vortex of stars and earth. The Doctor reached out his hand and gripped onto her tightly.

"Hold on tight!" He yelled out, his companion looking at him with widened eyes. The Doctor gripped onto her arm with one hand and looked around as they continued to fall. All around him were his enemies, the ones he had made through all of time and space. Even the Daleks and the Smilers were here, all of them watching him closely. He turned his head and recognized one enemy all too well: Angel statues with their hands in front of their faces. He swallowed deeply and turned to look back at Amy.

"Trust me," He stated, trying his best to sound comforting as they barreled further down the hole. Amy stared over at him with wild eyes, her ginger red hair billowing around her as they continued further and further down,

"What?! Why?!" She asked out frantically.

Right as she said so, the Angel began to charge at them. The Doctor shoved her away with all his might and turned, gripping the statue by the arms just in time. He turned his head only slightly to see Amy flying backwards, yelling out the Doctor's name.

"Doctooor!" She cried, flapping her arms rapidly in attempts to slow herself down. The Doctor gripped onto the weeping angel's arms tighter, trying to keep it from grabbing at his neck. It was only then that a white ball of light, coming from nowhere, hit the weeping angel and caused it to burst. Bits of rock and flecks of light scattered everywhere, causing the Doctor to fly back.

Amy flailed her arms and managed to make her way over to him, and together they gripped each other's shoulders and looked each other in the eyes. The look on her face was one of absolute terror as she opened her mouth. Her lips began to move, but no words were being spoken. The Doctor furrowed at her. He looked around at the swirling abyss. He couldn't hear the stars whizzing by or the earth crackling above them. He couldn't hear anything, just silence.

"IT'S NOT FAIR!" A voice cried violently, causing the Doctor to suddenly open his eyes and sit up straight. The young brunette gripped onto the couch cushions tightly and turn his head around. A rather large woman named Georgie was acting out again. Three male nurses were holding her tightly as one female nurse tried to put on the last buckle on the straight jacket. The Doctor turned his head back around and let out a rigid sigh, wiping the sweat off his clammy forehead. He gently pulled his knees in toward his chest and looked down at his feet in slight disappointment.

"It was just a dream," He muttered to himself. He closed his eyes for a breif second. He looked back up and over towards the Nurses station, peering at the clock. Only 7:30, 30 minutes until breakfast. The Doctor let out a sigh and looked into the nurses station window. He saw Martha conversing with Jack, and they were looking at him from time to time. That could only mean one thing then, his routine checkup was today.

Rory walked towards Ward C with a bagel and a mug of tea at hand. He was barely starting to get the hang of working in a new ward, but he knew that he'd adjust eventually. He still had some trouble knowing which rooms were what though.

The young nurse walked up to the entryway and got out his key. He made his way inside and checked in at the nurses station. After doing so, he went out into the hallway and started to walk around, memorizing the layout as he walked.

Two locked doors with a five-foot space between them. It was set up so you had to stand while the nurse relocked the first door and unlocked the second.

Just inside were three phone booths. Then, a couple of single rooms, the living room, and a kitchen. This set-up helped place a good and comforting first impression for visitors.

However, once you turned the corner past the living room, things changed.

A long, long hallway: too long. Seven or eight double rooms on one side, the nursing station centered on the other, next to it the conference room. The patients were to the left, and the staff to the right. The toilets and shower rooms were also to the right; no stall doors, and no shower curtains. The staff were to watch their every move, literally.

At the end of the hall was a TV room. The patients liked it. At least, better than the living room. It was messy, noisy, and most importantly, it was where all the especially crazy people liked to hang out. It became a natural habit to give the living room to the staff. The TV room was the so-called theater, where the catatonics would gather to stare off into space and the nurses would try and peel those with Separation Anxiety off of their bodies. Patients had a little more freedom in the TV room: watch tv, play games, read stories, finger paint. It was like primary school for adults.

After the TV room, another turn in the hall. Two more singles, one double, a toilet, and seclusion.

The seclusion room was the size of a small office without it's furnishings. It's only window was the one in the door that allowed people to look in and see what you were up to. You couldn't get up to much in there. There were no games, no music, nothing to really occupy your time with. The walls were padded and the floors were chipped, as though somebody had been at them with fingernails or teeth. The room was supposed to be soundproof. It wasn't.

Staff was allowed in there. They could pop into the seclusion room, shut the door, and yell for a while if they wanted . When they were done they could open the door and leave. He'd seen a couple nurses do it, even a Doctor. When it came to patients, yelling in the TV room or the hall fell under "acting out", and staff were to bring them over to the seclusion room. Yelling in there was fine.

Rory stopped as he reached the seclusion room and swallowed the small lump in his throat. The double-locked doors, the steel-mesh window screens, the kitchen stocked with plastic knives and locked unless a nurse was with you, the bathroom doors that didn't lock: All this was medium security. If this was medium security, he'd hate to see what maximum security was like.

"And how are we doing today, Doctor?" Martha asked, smiling brightly as she put the stethoscope to his chest.

"Oh, just fine, Martha," The Doctor answered with a bright grin. He folded his hands together and draped his spindly legs cover the exam table, gently swinging them back and forth as Martha looked him over.

"And how's your wrist?" She asked, listening closely to the pattering of his heartbeat.

"Better! Much better, thank you for asking," The man answered, looking down at his bandaged wrist. He stared at the white piece of gauze, a feeling of nervousness suddenly coming over him. He still couldn't get over the fact that he had relapsed again. He was doing so well.

"Martha," He spoke, his eyes still glued to his wound.

"Hm?" The woman chirped.

"Can I go outside today?" He asked, turning his head to look her in the eyes. He watched as her light smile faltered and her dark eyes grew soft.

"Afraid not, Doctor," She answered solemnly, "After leaving the ward last week, you're back to square one with restricted access."

"But surely you can talk to the other doctors about giving me a second chance," He replied with a light smile. Martha hesitated,

"Well…"

"Can't you?" He repeated hopefully.

"Well uhm…tell you what, Idris is coming for a visit," The young female doctor replied with a smile, "If you do your best when she's here, I'll talk to the others and see if they'll let you go to the exhibit."

The Doctor's smile grew bright again and he let out a hearty "Brilliant!", making Martha laugh lightly as he turned and hugged her tight. He quickly broke away and sat up straight again as she continued her check-up. The Doctor patted his thighs in excitement and closed his eyes, listening to the pattering of his joyful pair of hearts.

Vwooorp, vwooorp, vwooorp, vwooorp…

His smile dropped. He opened his eyes. That sound. That familiar, strange, and beautiful sound rang in his eardrums. He listened closely. It was coming from outside the room, and he could hear it getting closer and closer.

Vwooorp, vwooorp, vwooorp, vwooorp…

His eyes traveled to the door and watched. Three men walked past, pushing a big blue police box by. They stopped in front of the doorway and looked right at the man on the exam table. The three of them smiled brightly and snapped their fingers, the police box's doors opening inwards. The warm orange glow from the lights shone through and revealed to him the most beautiful and welcoming sight: Home. The Console. Freedom.

The Doctor smiled brightly and turned to his old companion with a beaming grin.

"Sorry Martha, but we'll have to continue this later," He announced, smiling wider at her confused look, "I've got a date with an old friend."

Martha's eyes widened and she stared at him with utter confusion.

"Wh-Wha?" The young man straightened his bow tie and leaped off the exam table. He held a bewildered Martha by the arms and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before rushing towards his TARDIS.

"Doctor wait!" Martha called, reaching out towards him, "Doctor!"

Just before he could reach the doors, he stopped in the middle of the hallway, causing an approaching Amy and Rory to bump into him slightly.

"Oh!" Amy yelped as she stepped back, "Doctor, what're you doing?"

"The TARDIS, it's here, we're going, we can finally go," He chirped rapidly, "Come along, ponds!"

He grabbed both their hands and the three of them rushed inside. The Doctor ran straight for the console as Amy and Rory locked the doors and peered out the window.

"Doctor, security's coming!" Rory called out.

"Let's fly, old girl," The Time Lord whispered with a smile. He pulled the levers and twisted the knobs, smiling brightly as The TARDIS rumbled and whooshed. His whole world shook and jumped, Rory and Amy latching onto the railings tight with shining grins on their faces. The Doctor pulled the final lever before letting out a hearty cry of joy, the three of them lifting off and barreling into the vortex.

Vwooorp, vwooorp, vwooorp, vwooorp…

"Doctor?" Martha's voice called out. The Doctor shut his eyes and quickly re-opened them. The console had disappeared. His companions were nowhere in sight. His TARDIS was gone. He blinked a few times and looked over at Martha, the young doctor looking right at him with concern etched on her beautiful face. His lips formed a weak smile as he turned his head towards the door, watching as three nurses carted away a cart of faulty of machinery.

"Are you alright, Doctor?"

"Just fine, Martha..." He answered slowly, his eyes falling to the bleached white tile. He turned his head and looked over at his doctor, a pained expression on his face,

"You'll talk to the others, won't you?...You'll at least try?"

Martha pursed her lips a little before giving him a small nod in defeat. She could see how being cooped up in here made him restless. It made everybody restless. She could at least bring it up to the others. She could give him that much.

The Doctor gave her a half-hearted smile and nodded in genuine thankfulness before slipping off the exam table. He slowly shuffled his way out the door and walked down the hall with his regular entourage of nurses and security.

Rory walked into the nurses station to find a small group huddled behind the front desk. Some shuffled with paperwork and fax machines, others were simply watching. The young nurse's curiosity peaked as he approached Amy, who was standing beside her new co-worker Mickey. He walked up beside her and looked out past the front desk, over to a table with only four people occupying the chairs. He saw the Doctor sitting at one end of the table, his thumbnail impulsively in his mouth. He had cleaned up nicely for whatever occasion, wearing a tweed jacket with elbow patches, dark fitted slacks, and a red bow tie. He was even entrusted with maroon braces and a belt. He looked like an esteemed college professor, it was rather odd. He was used to seeing the guy a lot more...raggedy.

"What's...going on?" Rory asked, jumping slightly as a band of nurses suddenly turned around to shush him.

"The Doctor's wife is visiting again," Mickey whispered, turning back around to watch. Curiosity was high in the nurse's station right now. Rory furrowed and turned his head in the Doctor's direction. Sure enough he was seated across from a pretty woman with brown hair that cascaded down her shoulders in sleek waves. She had a sweet face, with doll like eyes and a pointed nose, and cheek bones that managed to pop with the makeup she wore. She looked well kept, almost happy even, if it weren't the saddened look on her face. Next to her was a shorter woman with pin straight hair and a round face. She had the same doll-like eyes as the Doctor's wife, but the complete opposite when it came to style. While the Doctor's wife wore a nice green cardigan and flower skirt to match her simple necklace, the girl next to her wore a leather jacket over her dress and black tights under her wedged ankle boots.

"That's Idris's younger sister, Oswin," Amy murmured, pointing over to the leather jacket girl, "Well, her name's actually Clara, but she prefers her middle name."

Rory's attention stayed on Oswin for a second. She seemed more energetic compared to her sister, attempting to spark up conversation between her and the Doctor and his wife. Dr. Saxon, the therapist seated on Idris's other side, seemed to be the only one responding to her. The Doctor didn't say a word, he just stared at his wife, almost like he was wary of her.

"I-I brought you something, darling," Idris spoke, her heart fluttering as her husband's eyes met hers, "A present."

She reached into her leather purse and pulled out her gift, placing it on the table for all of them to see. The Doctor's eyes fell on it, his expression neutral as he stared at the hunk of resin molded and painted to look like his TARDIS.

"Brilliant, another police box," Clara sighed, furrowing as her sister gave her a warning look,"Oh, I mean TARDIS."

Idris turned her attention back to the Doctor, watching as he looked down at it. He didn't look sad or happy. He just looked...blank. He stared down at the object and reached out for it, sliding it across the table and pulling it closer to him. He stared at all the detail, everything from the grooves of the wood to the little light that stood atop the TARDIS's roof. Now that he got a good look at it, it really was a nice figurine. The detail, the color, it all looked so...

The Doctor's eyes fluttered shut for a minute before looking down at the figurine.

"My TARDIS," He muttered.

"My Doctor!" A woman chirped suddenly. The Doctor looked up and saw a woman seated across from him. She was dressed like the barmaid of a seedy Victorian inn, with raggedy fabric and frills and a corset complete with muddy boots. She wore her hair up in a big beehive cascade that seemed to blow up from the top of her head and run down her back in deflated curls. She was pretty and brittle, poised and delicate like a doll.

She picked up the TARDIS figurine and stared at it curiously, twisting her wrist to observe the object on all sides.

"Goodness is this what I look like on the outside?" She chirped rapidly, her eyes wide as she looked from the figurine to her Doctor, "You should really try to fix my chameleon circuit, sometime. At least a new paint job or something."

"I happen to like blue!" The Doctor opined, "It's cool, it's sexy."

"Sexy!" She let out, giggling heartily, "What on earth would you know about Sexy, with that bow tie of yours."

The Doctor's mouth dropped before he let out a huff, his TARDIS giggling once more before stepping to his side, a bright grin on her face,

"I only tease, darling," His TARDIS chirped, kissing him square on the cheek, "Shall we go?"

She linked her arm with his and together they strode down the hallway. No one bothered to stop them. No one even bothered to look at them. Doctors and Nurses just continued their business as The Doctor and his wife headed straight for the exit.

"Where are we off to?" He asked, following alongside his wife as she stopped right in front of the exit. She turned her head and smiled at him—that genuine, warm smile that made his heart flutter and shake. She lifted her hand and snapped her fingers, the double doors opening up to reveal the universe. A night sky that was littered with stars and planets and swirls of colorful light. Idris held onto their linked arms and watched as her Doctor's eyes widened in child-like joy. The whole world—no, the whole universe was in front of him, and it was his to explore.

"We can go anywhere, dear, in all of time and space," She whispered softly, "But first..."

She leaned into the shell of his ear and kissed it gently, keeping her lips there to whisper sharply,

"You have to behave."

"John?"

The Doctor looked up from the table, staring over at the confused face of Oswin, the broken-hearted one of Idris, and the neutral one of Dr. Harold Saxon. The Doctor looked over at The Master and could see it behind his lips—the way the corner of his mouth twitched as he struggled to keep from smirking. The Doctor's eyebrows furrowed slightly, bitter frustration growing in his stomach. This man, he was doing this to upset his wife, dangling the fact that he would be trapped here for awhile in front of her. He knew all this talk of The Doctor's travels and his companions upset her. He wanted her to see that he was crazy, and have her leave him so he would have no one and be alone. Whatever his reason, the Doctor knew this was some form of test, and so far he was failing.

The lanky man took a small breath through his nose and closed his eyes for a moment, searching for the right words to say. Nothing about the Silence. Nothing about the TARDIS. Nothing about Gallifrey and Time Lords. Nothing about nothing.

He opened his eyes again, smiling lightly over at his wife.

"Thank you dear," He said slowly, taking the gift into his hand and holding it, "I love it, I really do."

He saw her doll eyes widen. Her face seemed brighter. He saw her smile, a genuine smile of relief and joy. Her eyes were getting glassy. She let out an airy laugh and nodded, her husband smiling back at her as he held her gift in his hands.

"How's Craig and Sophie?" He asked, searching his memories for small, relatively normal sounding topics. Idris soaked it up and shot off like a rocket, telling him everything about their son Alfie teething and how Craig and his team managed to win big at the pub league.

"Of course all the lads miss you," The woman gushed, "Craig says it just hasn't been the same without their main man. Oh! And Clara here just got a job with computers over at the office—"

"It's Oswin, Idri. And an I.T. isn't my most ideal job," She added in as she checked her phone, tapping the screen as she went on, "But I get to work next to this guy named Devon, so as far as anyone knows, I am a wizard with computers."

"Why don't you tell the girls about your progress, John?" Dr. Saxon suddenly offered. The Doctor's dark green eyes flicked over to the man with tanned skin and loose fitting dress shirt. His watch stuck out against the skin on his wrist. It was silver and shiny, with little stones embedded around the rim. Anniversary gift.

"John?" The Master spoke out, "Care to tell them anything?"

The Doctor's eyes flicked down to the table. What was there to tell them? How he managed to capture prisoner zero? How he and Amy went back in time to save Vincent Van Gogh and brought him back to see the impact he managed to leave on the world? No. None of that was okay. He had to tread carefully. He had to behave. Say something normal, say something...human.

"I...painted yesterday," He said slowly, "Wilfred and I are working on a collaboration piece...We're calling it...Christmas."

Idris raised her brows in surprise while Oswin furrowed in obvious confusion.

"Christmas?" She quoted.

"Christmas...themed," He corrected, "Wilfred is fond of Christmas. It makes him happy."

A beaming smile flashed across Idris's face, a light giddy laugh escaping past her lips.

"That's so kind of you," She gushed, reaching forward to take her husband's hand in hers. She missed him flinch slightly, along with his muscles tensing under her hand, "You seem to be doing well, sweetie. That makes me happy."

The Doctor struggled a fake smile and nodded his head, trying to think past the banging sound in his head.

"I'm glad," He managed to get out.