The Doctor closed his large brown eyes as he leaned on the circular TARDIS console. His head hung down to his shoulders. His brown trench coat hung open. His thoughts lingered on what Donna, the runaway bride, said to him, just a moment ago. "Find someone," she implored. Now he was alone on his ship in the time vortex. He didn't want to find someone. "…you need someone to stop you," she reasoned. Now THAT was the truth. Another person to show the big beautiful universe only for them to end up hurt because of him. The TARDIS must've read his thoughts, she leapt to chaos as she initiated a new trip. His eyes lit up while listening to her cacophony of wheezing and whirring. He lost his footing, but caught himself on a coral pillar behind him. She was in such a rush she didn't smooth the trip for him at all!
"Blimey, what's all the fuss about?" He spoke to the empty air. The familiar toll of the TARDIS landing rung out. The Doctor froze. Opposite him in the console room stood a Weeping Angel, in all it's grey stoned glory. Wings folded behind the feminine body, hands covered it's eyes. Long, curly hair swept back in a Grecian style along with a draping gown.
"Why in God's name would you commandeer yourself a WEEPING ANGEL?" He shouted at his ship while staring intensely at the stone being. He sensed a rise in psychic energy in the room. "And on top of that, you're communicating with it?!" His jaw dropped and eyebrows curled, completely scandalized.
He tapped into the psychic connection occurring between the sentient being and the lonely assassin. The Weeping Angel's mind is crying out in relief and LOVE of all things, the TARDIS psychically providing a warm nurturing embrace. Very strange.
"I can't keep my eyes open forever. I suppose you can observe it yourself, at all times? It is essentially a psychic statue at this point, yeah?" He tested his theory first by blinking. No movement. Longer blink next. No movement. Ran down the corridor, looked back, nothing. Looked away, waiting a long while. Turned around, nothing once again. He headed back to the console room. While walking up to the Angel, he decided to give a bit of telepathy a go. He reached his fingers to the creature's temples.
Why are you on my ship?
Need help. Need to get back. Can't move!
Why did MY ship decide to help YOU?
She is like a mother to me. I was raised on this ship.
How is that even POSSIBLE? Wait a minute, are your thoughts in Gallifreyan?
Well, you tell me time lord. Do keep up.
He released his telepathic connection in indignation. Well, he wanted to have a think about the information provided so far anyway. He decided to contain the Angel in its own room. He flung some rope up on the coral structures, then attached one end to the angel and the other to a large crank. He cranked to suspend the statue and placed it on a dolly. The wheels squealed from the weight of the statue, rolling it far, far down the corridor. He deposited it into a distant room, the belly of the ship. He double-checked the lock before heading back to the console and setting the next destination to random. The angel didn't feel his presence for a very long while after.
The Doctor sat hunched on his bed in the dark of his room, thinking. He met the doctor in training, Martha, on the moon. She kept quiet about his hearts and resuscitated him. Maybe just a few trips in space and time wouldn't put her at much risk. Well, he went back for her anyway. It seemed he found a temporary companion. They met Shakespeare, saved the day, Carrionites defeated. He enjoyed his time with Martha, and wasn't quite ready to say goodbye.
He worried that Martha's trip to the future was a bit much for her. Being kidnapped, nearly killed by Macra, then watching an ancient being die. It was a lot to handle, but talking with her about the Time War helped their friendship. He was perplexed at what the Face of Boe said, "You are not alone." They were all gone, he couldn't have been talking about his people. Maybe the Gallifreyan thinking Weeping Angel knew something more?
During the countless days the Doctor kept his distance, the TARDIS soothed the Angel, sharing songs and images through their psychic connection. The Angel stood paralyzed in stone day in and day out. Her mind constantly trying to move her body, but met with immovable stone muscle. She itched to move, longed to sing along to her favorite songs. Every day that passed raised her desperation to move. It had been many months.
The tendrils of psychic energy lapped at the edge of her mind, getting closer. It was him! Maybe he would do something! But as he got closer she sensed a cold calculative mood from the man before her.
Are you from Gallifrey?
No.
Then why are your thoughts in my language?
This is my language. This is how my father spoke to me. The language I was taught to read and write.
Who is your father?
The Master.
So you're not really a Weeping Angel then are you?
No! Please help me! I just want to move again! I'm so alone and I can't move! I'm trapped! Please-
The Doctor broke the connection with the Statue. His hearts ached at her desperation. The supposed daughter of the Master! Is this who the Face of Boe meant? How did her mind end up in a statue?
Maybe her actual body was somewhere else, being projected into this statue sort of like the Flesh people but instead of flesh this was stone. The Master did lots of terrible deeds just to toy with him. Would he do this to his own daughter? More sadness for this girl trapped in stone flooded him.
What if she really is a Time Lord or partially one? His warmed at the taught. He desperately scanned the statue with his sonic screwdriver for a telepathic signal. Several minutes went by with nothing but the whirring of the sonic, but he persisted.
Finally, he got a lock on the signal! He rushed to the console and inputed the data for the TARDIS to follow. He ran to Martha's room and told her about the rescue mission and to be ready for anything, especially a trap.
—
The signal lead the time travelers to an asteroid at the end of the universe. The Doctor stepped out of the TARDIS in his brown pinstriped suit and long brown trench coat. He looked around for personnel, his face intense. Martha stepped out wearing her magenta leather jacket, jeans, and hoop earrings. Her hair pulled back with long bangs to one side of her face. She stared up at a giant metal structure, then quickly followed step behind him as he jogged to the nearest entrance. They searched a large facility for the person whose mind was tethered to the statue. Most of the place was dark, with floor to ceiling metal surrounding them. It was too easy, the Doctor felt his nerves going haywire. They followed the signal, completely unimpeded. Not a soul in sight in a military base called Demons Run.
They found the room, bright light spilling from the doorway. A young woman lay with curly long, strawberry blonde hair in vines around her head. Her facial features were rounded, soft and feminine. Her body was strapped down to a cot with tubing coming out all around her blanket covered body.
"Those tubes are connecting her to life support and wires for the psychic signal. The technology seems advanced enough to not need the elaborate connections, but it must be out of commission since we're at the end of the universe."
Martha was stunned for a moment at the sight of the young woman lying there all alone. The Doctor quickly reached the woman and used his sonic to examine her. His expression dropped into a blankness. He took a deep breath and began the process of disconnecting her from the machines. Martha began her own examination.
"Doctor! She's postpartum! If she's just had a baby, where is it? And the father? How could this be? You said she's been stuck in a statue!" Martha shouts, her eyes widened. She nearly shook from the disturbing truth.
"This woman appears to have been mentally separated from her body and used to… procreate." The Doctor replied, renewed in determination to get this woman back onto the TARDIS and properly cared for. Why didn't he try to help her sooner? It was his fault that he left her alone for so long. It was his fault he didn't save her in time to keep her baby! The final disconnection was to her mind.
Angel felt her mind pulling back to her body sharply. All at once she felt her aching muscles, her beating heart. She inhaled sharply, eyes flew open. Her breath was heavy. She reached out with her mind, the two people hovering over her felt and looked kind. She was so grateful and comforted having them here to save her. The feelings spilled out of her in psychic waves.
Martha's head spun as a sudden wash of emotions hit her. Her body felt so warm and her limbs begin to go limp causing her to collapse beside them. The Doctor, having sensed the psychic emotional outpouring from the woman, quickly reached for the psychic woman's temple to put her to sleep. Martha regained her strength while the psychic invasion subsided.
"Why was I feeling like that? Was that from her?"
"She must be a very strong psychic. I'll carry her to the TARDIS, you go ahead and make sure we're still all clear. Careful now," he says. He tucked the white blanket back around the woman, cradling her in his arms, and lifting her up so he could stand. He hoped she enjoyed the peaceful dream he gave her of his time relaxing in the peaceful landscape of a planet far, far away.