Chapter 11—Doctor Who?

Doctor

He was alone, like always. It seemed that had become the one constant in his life since losing Clara. Everything was hard. He spent countless hours locked in his room, losing himself in the melancholy tunes he drew from the strings of his violin. He didn't know what to do, where to go. He had lost direction, lost a sense of purpose, lost a sense of…himself.

He sat up suddenly. That was it. He had lost a sense of who he was, and without knowing who he was, how could he possibly know what to do? It was The Question, the one even he couldn't truly answer:

Doctor who?

Who was he? Who could he be? How did he find out?

He had a feeling he couldn't find out if he stayed the Doctor. His depression would consume him and he would fade until he was just a myth, a legend to frighten the monsters. He didn't want to be a legend. He needed to do something, anything.

He needed a break. Yes, that was it. He needed to stop being the Doctor for a while, to be someone else. Only then, separated from all the fanfare and veneration and this bone-deep ache that racked his body with every beat of his heart, could he discover his identity for himself and begin to re-construct his life.

Whom should he be?

His lips curled in a faint smile—his first in a month, give or take (time hadn't seemed to matter, so he hadn't really bothered keeping track)—at a sudden thought. His first time with Clara, he stole another's identity for himself. He could do it again. He knew who he would pretend to be…for a while, anyways.

The Chameleon Arch—he had to find it. That was key to his success in this venture. He sprang out of his bed, stirring from his lethargy for the first time in weeks, moving with renewed vigor now that he had a clear sense of purpose in mind. He swept into the console room and started digging through general clutter, making a mental note to tidy up sometime.

Let's see…It could be anywhere. When did I accumulate so many unnecessary objects? Why do I keep them? Sentimental attachment. Foolish. I should get rid of these, he mused to himself, pushing through shoes and unmatched socks, books and pens and watches and ties and wrappers, old scraps of paper scribbled with fragmented thoughts meant to be expanded upon but quickly forgotten in the chaos of his life. Eventually, he found it.

Doctor. She spoke to him abruptly, so suddenly he almost dropped the Chameleon Arch and had to scramble to catch it before it could crash to the ground and become damaged. It had become precious to him in these moments, a beacon of hope.

My Doctor, are you sure you want to do this? The TARDIS' voice was soft, concerned. She was afraid for him.

"You're the one who tried to convince me to do this, old girl. Now you're changing your mind?" he murmured aloud, knowing she would hear.

There is a difference, Doctor, between hiding and running away. A difference you well know. Cowards run away, and you are not a coward.

He laughed, mockingly, the sound aimed mostly at himself. "Don't be so sure. I've run away plenty. Besides, I'm coming back. This is…temporary."

And if you forget? If you get hurt, or don't want to come back? What then?

"That's what you're really afraid of, isn't it? You're not concerned for me. You're afraid I'll abandon you." He snorted. "Don't fret. I'll be back when I'm good and ready."

And before she could argue with him further, he set the Chameleon Arch accordingly and jammed it on top of his mess of curls.

[A/N: HEY GUYS! Soooo…it's been a while. Four months, almost. And I'm sorry to say this is my last day of computer access for a while. I am so so so so so sorry about that. I love the idea of this story, but it's been hard figuring out how to make it all work and what I want to happen when, so I've been struggling. BUT I finally updated, so yay! And I'm going to try and maybe do more chapters before I lose my computer, so keep on the look-out, okay?]

[As always, my love goes to those who stuck with this story, who reviewed and asked for updates and gave me ideas. You guys rock and it's people like you that are keeping this fic alive.]

[Happy summer, everyone. I will hopefully see you in the fall. No matter how long it takes me to update, I am determined to see this story through to the end.]

[That's all, I guess. Love you guys, stay cool and crazy!]

—Makenna