15: Space
Twelfth Doctor Post Oxygen *Spoilers through that episode
The Doctor had risked his life to save Bill without any hesitation. He hadn't even thought about it until now, as he sat alone in the TARDIS with his Sonic Sunglasses resting on his nose. Bill had gone home to sleep, thankful for some rest after their nightmare of an adventure. He'd sent away Nardole shortly after, telling him some half-truth about how dangerous the vault would be after they'd both been away for so long. Now he had time to think, so think he did.
He still couldn't see, a fact he instinctively kept from Nardole and Bill. He didn't even know why he was being so secretive; maybe he didn't want their pity. People always wanted to pity you when you just wanted some independence and maybe some alone time.
Of course, he'd pitied himself as well for a moment or two. He was scared and he had never liked the dark. But the TARDIS had quickly reminded him of his sunglasses, and she had hummed comfortingly in his ears to show her presense.
He still had all of his other senses. He still had his mind and his personality. He was still him. He could even see, in a way, with his sunglasses. They at least warned him when he was about to walk into a wall or step on Bill's toes. He could still save planets, and he could definitely steer the TARDIS.
All he needed was some time. Time to adjust. Time to think and learn. And time he had, thanks to his TARDIS. Oh, Nardole would kill him if he knew what he was about to do.
The Doctor got to his feet and went to the Console. He knew this room like the back of his hand, perhaps even better; he'd had the ship longer. So it was with much ease and a mischievous grin on his face that he took off and flew to a random point in space, giving the TARDIS a bit of freedom. Yes, Nardole would've killed him.
The ship stopped suddenly and the Doctor felt the TARDIS reach out to him telepathically. She wanted him to go to the doors for something. He complied with an inquiring mind.
His hands fumbled a bit for the door handles,
but he soon had them open. They were in space, he could sense it. Below was a planet. His Sonic specks read out various chemical levels. Oxygen. Hydrogen. Just a little bit of Nitrogen. The Doctor leaned back, letting his legs dangle out the threshold. In his mind, he could picture the swirling mass below. It was a planet he'd visited before, one with shops and the sweetest fruits in the galaxy. He smiled.
"This body always did have a sweet tooth."
Quickly, he jumped up and shut the doors, hurrying back to the Console. With a little help from the TARDIS, he landed perfectly just beside the biggest marketplace. Cautiously, he muttered a goodbye to his ship and treaded outside, reluctantly closing the doors behind him.
He would never have admitted it to anyone, but he was still a little afraid. What if he fell into trouble before he had really gotten used to navigating without sight? What if his enemies used his disability against him?
He almost gave up and went back into the TARDIS, but she had ready locked him out, urging him to go out into the world in front of him. He sighed. "Guess I'll have to trust you didn't bring me anywhere I can't handle."
He took a step forward and his glasses started beeping furiously. There were crowds of people, all moving about ceaselessly. He could feel their presence even without the glasses, their body heat radiating onto him. They were also making an incredible amount of noise, calling out prices and shouting about how rare their merchandise was.
Suddenly a smell wafted through the air; the sweet, citrusy scent of the planet's famous fruit. The Doctor finally decided he had to get going; start practicing how to take in his new world. He took a step forward and heard someone shout, "Oi!" He bit his teeth in a grimace, but a little encouraging from the TARDIS' telepathic circuits nudged him forward. He went into the fray with a little more confidence.
His glasses identified a row of tables to his left, so he followed until his outstretched hand felt a soft cloth. He stroked it with his fingertips to ground himself. He'd always been prone to overstimulation. This market probably wasn't the best place for him when he wasn't teaching himself how to walk again.
An old woman's voice rang cheerily from the other side of the table. "Yeh like bracelets? I've got 'em in all kinds of colors. Red; blue; brown; what would ya like?"
The Doctor's hand brushed around the tabletop until he found a circular band, covered in small beads. The felt like a plastic kind of wood; not altogether natural, but not completely artificial either. He smiled softly at the woman and set the bracelet down.
As he wandered through the market, he found it easier and easier to trust himself and pick up some speed. Once or twice he bumped into someone, but they were only offended until he heard them swivel to face him, then they went silent. That was the worst part, in his opinion. He couldn't stand everyone tip-toeing around him. He almost would've preferred they'd be angry.
Finally his nose caught the poignant whiff of that sweet, sweet fruit. He picked up the largest one off the table and scanned it with his sunglasses. VitaminA and C; beta carotene. It was one of his favorites, the orange one. A voice across the counter, belonging to a young boy by the reading of his glasses, said simply, "That's five credits."
Quickly, he shuffled in his pocket for his credits card. The last time he needed it, he had filled it to capacity. Apparently he could've bought a mansion, but he went with a new suit instead. He wondered how much was still on it. He handed it to the boy, who blew air out of his cheeks with a whistle.
"Blimey, you could live on this."
The boy tapped a few buttons on a keyboard and handed the card back to the Doctor. Just before the Timelord could stuff the card back into his pocket and disappear into the market, though, the boy firmed his grip. "Hey, ugh, sir; you might want to be careful with that. Folks around here aren't always the kindest. I just don't want anyone taking advantage of you or anything. You've got about a million credits on that right now.
The boy loosened his hold on the card and the Doctor slowly put it back in his pocket, taking his fruit from the counter. "Thank you."
The boy replied softly, "Enjoy your lunch, sir." The Doctor knew he was smiling without the glasses' analysis.
The Doctor sat leaned against one side of the TARDIS doorway, one leg hanging loosely out into space. He took a big bite of his fruit and moaned in enjoyment. "This really is the best fruit in the galaxy."
The TARDIS purred back at him. He simply took another bite, feeling the citrus and the cool liquid drip down his chin. It was messier than a pear, but it was worth it.
His glasses still perched on his nose, he turned out the doorway. He could feel the vibrations of the strings of the universe; sense the slow but powerful force of gravity keeping the planets below in their orbits. By the readings of his glasses, he knew that there were Dalek ships hovering in the distance, in need of some stopping.
The Doctor was not afraid anymore. He wasn't a tragedy, to be pitied or fawned over. He was still a scary handsome genius from space. He was the Doctor, he was blind, and he could save the day. No if ands or buts about it.