Next one. The Doctor experiences the surreal and scary, and Rose is befuddled by the behaviour of his time-ship.
Screenager
The lights steadily dimmed in the library, signaling that it was the end of another day. Time was hard to keep track of in a timeless home, so Rose was glad for these little things. She still kept a calendar too, even if it caused the Doctor to roll his eyes and mutter somewhat derisively.
As the pages of her book gleamed a soft, warm yellow in the half-light, she briefly wondered where her Time Lord was. This usually happened, so it wasn't of any cause for concern.
Unless he's in the Lab again, she thought with an eye roll to herself and a wistful smile.
And so, she immersed herself once more in the novel, whisked away to lands and creatures, chilling scenes, typical protagonists and cruel-faced, pale villains.
She smirked at the typical hero stereotype. Not like the Doctor at all. Supposing she hadn't had known him, she would've scoffed too. Back then.
A shake of the head to herself shook away those memories. What was her past, dim and smothered with social labels - that didn't exist anymore.
She had now.
She had the Doctor.
"Wha-"
The room and herself suddenly bumped and slid, sending her chair careening over and nearly crushing her as its path continued to the roundelled wall, gaining, gaining, even more speed-
Then.
Rose gripped the nearest wall, knees bowed as she fought for balance. She felt the TARDIS shift in the Vortex, her ancient heart groaning.
Wait. Were they in the Time Vortex..?
The tumult ceased, leaving her a bit dishevelled, but more confused than anything. With equals parts alarmed and titillated, she ran (yes, actually sprinted, full-speed) to the Console Room, only-
"Empty," she breathed, taking in the darkened circumference of the console, eyes flicking instinctively to the inky blackness that pooled in the furthest corners.
A quick flip of the screen told her they were parked on an empty planet. An endless field of blue filled the screen. Rose frowned.
Then, what had been moving, exactly?
Right. This wasn't anything major. She was probably just over-reacting. Her Time Lord had most likely slunk of to do whatever he did during the nights -as he apparently didn't sleep- and could be anywhere.
Like, maybe the Galley, or the Butterfly Room. Or the Arboretum.
A tightening in her stomach told her she should really be worried if he wasn't in those places, because the TARDIS was huge- even endless. She remembered even the Doctor saying that he didn't know what all of Her rooms were, or where, for that matter.
Being a Tyler, she, of course, stubbornly ignored the pangs, and ventured out of the now rather untidy Library.
...Time...Lord..
Fear. That's all he felt. Irrational, terrible, wonderful fear, as the inky voices whispered to him. Face down in the covers, he shifted but by a few millimetres, one eye snapping open.
If there had been a mirror opposite his bed, he would have noticed the unnatural dilation of his pupil.
He gripped the covers in clawed hands as though it was his very life-line. The voice whispered again, clearer.
The Wolf knows you Time Lord. Soon to become you, Time Lord.
His title, being bandied around like some part of a chilling, sordid riddle or rhyme. Ice-cold trepidation poured through him.
"W-what do you want?" He didn't sound brave, nor confident. Speaking to thin air. The TARDIS grumbled indignantly at the intrusion in his head, but he was so far lost he didn't even hear her. Reality melted away. He was floating.
The voiced said nothing.
"Answer me!" The Doctor croaked, prone like a wounded animal. He had no strength whatsoever - like it had been sapped from him in an instant.
"I said to identify yourself!" A little bolder, this time. "By the order of the Shadow Procla-"
Proclamations mean nothing.
The force of the words, so loud they hurt, drew the Doctor back down to quivering, seeing nothing.
Proclamations come and go. Just titles. Titles like yours. The words were hissed and gravelly, the person -thing- behind them sounding haughty and puffed up with pride.
He shuddered, nausea beginning to roil in his belly.
A dynasty, born so early, never set to fall. Oh? Now only one remains.
"Stop it." He barely grated that out, the mocking voice insulting his heritage more than he could bear.
Just one. And yet, the pink and golden one...she sees. She bears your very soul before you.
He frowned? Weird and eerie voices being all poetic and cryptic as well as menacing? This had to be a bad day.
"I don't-"
A Wolf like you.
The Doctor lay prone still, brows drawing together at this.
Wolf long ago. Wolf here, Wolf there.
"But-"
Time trickles by, oh Lord of Time. Seventy lunar hours. The Wolf does not wait.
And then...it was gone. Reality pooled back around him from the nothingness. His bed, his room, the TARDIS. Oh, and Rose, wherever she was.
He hefted himself up to the edge, and perched, head braced upon clasped hands.
He needed to sort this out for himself. Rose was in danger, and-
A swell of emotion took him suddenly. Things he had no real business feeling at this moment in time, thank you very much. He was in turmoil as it was. Eyes scrunched shut, he struggled to keep the lump in his throat at bay, rocking slightly.
The TARDIS watched on in silent despair for her lonely one.
If the Doctor was planning, then so would She. And she planned to win.