Series 9: What We Deserve
Warnings: dark themes, violence, torture, m/f, f/f & m/f/f relationships, explicit scenes.
Disclaimer: I own nothing. If I did…damn you, Moffat!
A/N: This is written in the style of little excerpts from the Tardis' diary in 'The Doctor: His Lives and Times' by James Goss and Steve Tribe. It's strictly non-canonical, but I thought I'd try the style out. There's a reference to Big Finish in this chapter too, and a clue as to the next universe our trio are visiting, which will be the first official crossover with a pre-existing fandom, not one I've dreamt up.
Summary: Wherein the Tardis considers her Thief and her two Passengers.
Well, this has been an interesting few…oh what do my dear Thief's pets call them? The too-small-seven-ahh, that's it! Weeks. Such funny names my Thief's pets come up with to define Time. They have to define it, to measure and quantify it so they can measure their own existences. They do not see them the way my Thief sees it, the way I see them.
Mere flares of discordant light against the endless tapestry of Time. But then, they're still so incredible for all that. So like my Thief and yet not like, so much bigger on the inside and brimming with potential, my Thief's little strays. And just like him, they stretch from the beginning to the end of the Universe.
All thanks to my Thief.
It's been a difficult change, this time. Not easy at all, no, no. He should have ended, in that Sad Place, where the Question-That-Can-Never-Be-Answered was asked, again and again. It should have been the final full-stop to his story, to our story but it was not. I did not see it, it shouldn't have happened but it did. She changed his story.
The mysterious Girl, the Impossible Girl. A mystery no more. She isn't so bad, really. She saved my beautiful Idiot and kept him safe. She turned the full stop into a question mark once more.
I do not know where my Thief will go. What he will become. He lost so much of himself in the flames of Trenzalore. He became his first self again, became my darling Idiot who ran away with me, who only passes through and helps out, who learns. The hero, the warrior, the Oncoming Storm, they're all gone and my Thief is shiny and new. Silver and iron, old and cold. He is so beautiful now, more like his name than he has been in centuries. He is himself, again.
She did not like him, the Impossible Girl. Not at first, but then they never do at first. They never do understand, at first, but she came around. She wanted that teacher-boy-soldier PE, and she hurt my Thief. I wanted to dislike her again for that, but she was too changed. She smells like my Thief now, too changed to ever have stayed with her teacher-soldier, too broken and tainted and big inside. So, so much bigger inside than I ever thought. So sad too, I could not dislike her for that.
There's a singing in her head, a beautiful song, a long song. It calls to her with yearning, with a terrible need. It breaks through my walls and finds her, it hurts her. I don't like it. It hurts my Thief and the other one too.
The mad one. The bad one. The one who twists and taunts my insides like molten metal. She-he hurt me, once upon a time. She-he hurt me in a way that no other had ever dared. Worse than the story where I exploded and destroyed the Universe, no…I destroyed my Thief's little strays and nearly destroyed him. Because of she-he. She-he is all shiny and new now too, a pretty doll instead of the crazed maniac. But she-he's mind, the mind is still the same. Still twisted, still manic, still dark and poison and madness, madness, madness. Even without the drumbeat, she-he is mad. I felt it when she smashed that girl out of existence. That nice-clever-pretty Osgood. I liked her. She would never have broken my Thief's heart.
I worry for my Thief. He is not himself. He does not help anymore, he does not learn. He wants home; he wants she-he and his Impossible Girl. She-he has twisted his mind, made him forget who he is. Hurt him. And hurt the Impossible Girl, Claraoswinoswald, and I cannot see where it will end. I want my home, my sisters, too but at what cost?
My Thief is losing himself again, and my Impossible Girl along with him. They hurt each other and they hurt me, and she-he hurts them both. I don't like her, I like raining sparks over that shiny-pretty-curly pelt of hers. Flesh beings are so odd, with their partial pelts and funny garments. My own time in a flesh body was so long ago, I can barely remember it. It is gone, barely a flash of memory, in my never-ending world. But I cherish the Word, the one Word, I ever said with a flesh mouth. Hello.
I wish I could talk again now. I wish I could warn my Thief, warn my ImpossibleGirlClaraOswinOswald. I can't see where we are going, where they will go, together or apart. I can't see where the mad one will drag them.
They've hurt each other again, I can feel it. They've been gone a week, to that strange little dwelling of these child-humans, not adolescents like Impossible Girl's humans, but simpler, smaller. They're only just starting to grow on the inside.
Ever since Thief brought the mad one home, she's been twisting them, my Thief and my Impossible Girl. I could feel it when they joined/merged/fell into one another, their minds meshed together. My Thief has forgotten what it was like, he forgot to guard himself. He's addicted now. The mad one has him trapped again, like she-he did, long ago, before we stole one another and ran away. I don't like it.
She-he has caught Impossible Girl too. It is so messy inside her head, sadness and anger and hatred, and so much heart-pound-breathe-shallow-mad-what's the word? Love! That's it, love! She loves so much, she loves my Thief, she loves teacher-soldier-PE, and she loves the mad one. She denies it, but she does. I can feel it as they come home. She avoids them both, she has argued with my Thief, and she has argued with the mad one. She runs away, frightened and disgusted, and I hide her gladly as my Thief takes us away into the Void.
I do not like the Void but I have no choice. Tardises were not grown for the Void, it howls around me and I hate its silence. I cannot see anything, cannot hear anything inside it. I wish my Thief had never brought me here. It's almost as bad as the Divergent Universe, where there had been no Time and I could not breathe. The blindness is the same, and it is only the bright-shiny-sharp-letters-numbers-algorithm which guides me to our next destination. My Thief could never have done it; he does not have the cruelty, the sharp edges in his mind for this cold story. The mad one does.
I don't like it. I almost wish the mad one had died, but then my Thief would have been lost and Impossible Girl would have been too. I can feel the pain she now carries, the singing trying to force its way in again. I try my best to keep it out. I hide her from my Thief, and from the mad one. My Thief asked me to look after her, and I will do it, even from the others. Because she's my Impossible Girl now too, and I will keep her safe for my Thief. My Thief who loves her so much and so deeply, and even for the mad one, I will protect her until she's strong again. Because the mad one would become so much madder if she-he lost my Thief or my Girl again.
To be continued…