Doctor Who : Multishot
Tenth Doctor x Reader
Word Count: 11011
Warnings: BLAST FROM THE PAST! Rewatching Doctor Who has given me a reignited obsession and an idea for a series. What could go wrong.
Request: This is just from my own head 😊
A/N: This introduction is a bit long, but all the information is necessary. The coming parts will be set farther in the future, this prologue simply tells you how the reader met the Doctor and why she chose to travel with him.
There will be eight total parts. Four will be with the Tenth Doctor and four will be with the Eleventh Doctor.
My life was decided for me. Everything about me was rewritten, reprogramed, to be something out of my control.
The dying girl.
I never wanted to be the dying girl.
How terrifying to be labeled something so ironic, so final. Finding out my label wasn’t supposed to be a part of the plan. But here I am doing exactly what I’m supposed to be doing: dying.
The Doctor – the only good thing to come out of me discovering my destiny – he should be here. He would want to be here. He would need to be here.
But with me on my deathbed, I want to tell you how I got here. Perhaps it’s just to stall and see if the Doctor will appear to say goodbye. Knowing him he’s probably spending every last second trying to find a cure.
With a life predestined for me, I want to tell you about the things that fought against it.
The Doctor. The fiancé. The zybanium watch.
She paused, her pen leaving an unattractive blot on the cursive of her handwriting. What on earth was that noise?
She listened for that familiar ticking, the consistent ping of her watch.
Bzz bzz. Tick tock. Bzz bzz.
That wasn't coming from her watch. In fact, it wasn't coming from her classroom at all; it was entirely too faint to be in the room with her. She lifted her reflective gaze towards the open door across the sea of little desks.
She stood as quietly as she could, her breathing coming out in a steady uniform. Something sparked at the forefront of her brain, making her limbs move involuntarily towards the suspicious noise.
Maneuvering about the desks, she made it past the whiteboard before her phone chimed. Jumping an inch off the ground, she put a hand to her chest and another to her pants pocket.
A text from Andrew: "Good afternoon, my sweet."
Why my sweet? She was never fond of the affectionate nickname, didn't think it suited her at all. She didn't even like sweets all that much, always put a sugary film on her teeth. Perhaps the name was more so about her temperament as opposed to her dietary preference.
There she went again, mind focusing on one thing and completely disregarding anything else.
Bzz bzz. She supposed she was rather sweet when it came to speaking to others. Bzz bzz. It makes some sort of sense as she was a primary school teacher. Bzz bzz.
Oh and there's that blasted noise interrupting her ramblings. Taking a deep breath she turned her face away from her phone and towards the much louder sound coming from behind her.
She let out a gasp, a shrill sound as the phone fell out of her fingers. There was a man standing before her, a full grown man with a funny little box lighting up in his hand.
He looked her up and down before moving the metal box closer to her. The proximity made the light on top flash and make the mysterious noise: Bzz bzz.
"Ha! Finally caught up to you." He pocketed the box, but extracted a blue topped pen, fiddling with some controls.
"Wh-What?" She sucked in another gasp as he prodded her cheek with the lighted pen. "Excuse me..." She slapped his hand away and he looked incredibly offended.
"Ow, now what was that for?"
"I'm sorry, but you – a complete stranger – have just waltzed into my classroom and stuck funny instruments in my face! Forgive me..." She bit her tongue, "But who are you?"
"The Doctor," he stated, moving to the side a bit as if expecting another slap. "You're a peculiar thing, aren't you?"
She blinked confusedly, though refrained from snapping again, "Just, The Doctor?"
He opened his mouth as if to explain in further detail, but only said, "Simply Doctor would do. And may I ask, what is your name?"
"It's... Miss. (Y/L/N)."
"Miss?" He took a step towards her, making her take a similar step backward. The cheekiness creeping into his expression was almost unsettling.
He was wearing a striped suit, a brown trench coat, and... converse? The crazed state of his hair and the pout of his lips made it look like he was lost in a particularly deep strain of thought. And the look of his eyes was definitely something strange.
But she shook her head before going further, "What did you mean by saying you caught up to me?"
His demeanor immediately lightened, "I've been tracking your particle trail." He stuck his hands in his pockets, swishing the trench coat out of the way, "A particle trail that could be traced from galaxies away. Which reminds me..." He gave a sudden serious glance, "You have to come with me."
She blinked a few times, watching the Doctor extract the funny little box that made the annoying noise, "I can't come with you."
He looked up to her and frowned, "Why not?"
She scoffed, shaking her head, "I've got a classroom to manage. My students will be back from recess in five minutes." She stared at him now with an instructors mind, "Are you quite alright, Doctor? Particles and noisy boxes and odd blue flashlights – you must be joking.”
"Miss. (Y/L/N), I'm going to have to insist that you follow me. There's not much time; if I could find you this easily then the others won't be far behind."
"Others?" she laughed, "What a story you're weaving here." Her eyes began to soften to that of a teacher referring a young student, "Now where are you supposed to be? Are you here alone?"
He looked up from his tracking device, "Sorry?"
"Alright, how about I direct you to the main offices and you can ask them whatever questions you like." She placed a hand on his arm, and it changed his gaze from confusion to impatience.
"I'm not some wandering psych patient, if that's what you're thinking."
She gave him a smirk, "Then you're an actor, did someone put you up to this?"
His impatience grew, a whiny tone to his voice, "No, no, I'm simply here to take you away before anyone or anything else does." He practically rolled his eyes at her state of mocking silence, "Look, Miss. (Y/L/N), there's something special about you – something that I haven't quite figured out – but if there are others in this universe that want you because of said thing... then I'm going to make sure I get you first."
"There's something special about me?"
"Yes, yes – that's what I've been tracing on my... noisy box."
She folded her arms, a parenting edge to her voice still, "And people from the universe are coming after me?"
"Yes! Stop repeating everything I'm saying." He whipped out that blue tinted flashlight and aimed it at her forehead, "As I suspected, you're entirely human. You've just got some traceable alien substance radiating off you, beating almost like a heart."
A disturbance could be heard from the hallway and the Doctor whirled around to peer towards it. Miss. (Y/L/N), on the other hand, remained still and laughing quietly, "I should have known with the mention of galaxies and the universe – this has something to do with aliens!"
"Shush," he muttered, his lighted pen lifted towards the doorway. His concentration was solely placed towards the cause of the new noise.
But quite tired of this show obviously being used to disturb her as a newly hired teacher, she moved for the doorway quickly, "It's just some students returning from recess before the bell."
The Doctor snapped an arm in front of her, holding her back from advancing, "No, you need to stay here." He didn't look at her as he continued, "It's not safe for you anymore. Oh, blasted Reapers and their temporal shifting!"
Miss. (Y/L/N) gave him a raised eyebrow, "You're making it real hard not to see you as delusional."
He couldn't help the slight smirk that appeared on his face, "I'll be right back – stay where you are!"
The man, the Doctor, skid down the hallway in his squeaky sneakers. The lights suddenly began to flicker before going out completely.
She took a few steps back into her still lit classroom, an unexpected chill coursing down her spine. "Great... a mentally unstable, trenchcoated man has just run out of my classroom, telling me I'm the subject of some alien dilemma... and the power goes out."
The chill seemed to continue, the whole room sinking in cold, "Oh, the heater is out as well?" She rubbed her hands together, peering around the empty, eerie feeling enveloping the space.
The lights began to flicker and as she looked up at the ceiling, they went out, as dark as the hallway outside. What happened to the power? Where were the students? Why was it so bloody quiet and cold?
But then something came flooding across the floor, soundless and weightless, like someone had poured a tankard of dry ice onto the ground. Clouds of mist flowed silently into the room, swirling around the desks and eventually her feet.
The unsettling feeling that something bad was going to happen, that she wasn't entirely alone, encompassed her senses. Every nerve in her body began to freeze with sudden fright; it was completely against her control the amount of terror that crept up her legs and into her now rapidly beating heart.
The very air seemed to seize, like when your breath is caught in your throat. Even the ticking of her favorite watch seemed to lessen in the atmosphere.
"Hello?" she even surprised herself with the sudden question. Her breath came out cold, "Is someone there?"
The unsettling feeling made the hair on her arms stand up, her stomach twist, and she finally realized what she was experiencing: dread.
The denial continued, "The funny alien speak was a good laugh. But this is a bit much!" She called out into the darkened space, "You can turn the power back on now."
It was incredible how loud the silence could be.
But the only response was the sound of wind across sand, a figure floating into view from the hallway. It was tall and slender; the mist swirled about the bottom of its robes, dark fabric that fell in ragged fragments. It stood motionless with a hood drawn over its head and a weapon within its grasp – a scythe she believed it was called.
Its hand, the only visible piece of its body, was sickly and grey. But it was the eyes that startled her the most; the only recognizable feature hidden beneath the hood were the eyes. They were red and blazing, something that stood out so painfully against the blackness.
"Who are you?" her breath came out in another puff of cold. "What are you doing here?"
The figure moved to hold its scythe with both clammy hands, advancing further into the room. The sound of scraping sand, of crushed glass being pushed along concrete, signaled the creatures movement.
"Now... now don't come any closer. I'm warning you," she hugged herself, feeling an instinctual need to get as far away from its presence as possible. "Stay away from me!"
It floated effortlessly through the mist, the scythe glinting despite the lack of light. And Miss. (Y/L/N) was beginning to realize that there was no possible way this was a parlor trick. No primary school had the budget to prank a new teacher like this.
"What are you?"
The figure hesitated, mere feet from her, to tilt its head to the side and acknowledge the newcomer: The Doctor.
"Now tell me right now," Miss. (Y/L/N) cried out, voice layered with fear, "What the hell is that thing?"
The Doctor came closer into the classroom, "A Reaper, Miss. (Y/L/N), a being created with the sole purpose to capture those they believe have cheated death."
"Cheated death?" she replied, backing away until the wall stopped her, "But I haven't done any such thing!"
"Doesn't matter – when they've decided you have there's no stopping them." He extracted that little blue pen, creating the first light source since the flaring gaze of the Reaper. The Doctor aimed his instrument, eyes trained on the Reaper's hood, "You don't have to do anything dangerous to warrant a death sentence, there's a chance you could die every day by any means!”
He pouted his lips, "Right." His instrument made a funny little humming sound, and the creature began twitching, fingers clenching its scythe.
"How is a flashlight supposed to do anything useful?"
The Doctor opened his mouth, clearly frustrated, "It's a sonic screwdriver, thank you very much. And its uses are far beyond your imaginings."
The lights began to flicker again, the Reaper suddenly on edge. A screech began scraping out of it, like nails on a chalkboard. The pitch was so shrill that Miss. (Y/L/N) had to cover her ears.
And as soon as the lights flashed back on, the Reaper vanished – simply gone with a flick of the switch – the mist, the cold, the darkness, just gone.
Miss. (Y/L/N) tried to suck air into her icy lungs and her heart attempted to beat to the comforting tick of her watch, "Blimey."
The Doctor jogged over, pocketing his screwdriver, and yanked her into a tight hug, "You'll be all right."
She pushed against him, trying to pry off his lanky arms, "And just what do you think you're doing?"
He pulled away a bit, "Hugs deflect the effects – trying to warm you up – it's the opposite of what that Reaper does." He appeared confused that she didn't understand until realizing something, "Right, I forget I have to start over with new people; it's so tedious."
She shoved him back, breath a bit shaky along with the last of the cold, "I've only just met you and you expect me to believe a hug is a cure for whatever that thing does?"
"I thought it made sense." He placed his hands in his pockets, standing uncomfortably close to her.
"Look, I don't know who you are, or what you're supposed to be doing here. But I think you better leave before I call the police," she slid around him and went for her fallen phone, "This has to be some kind of dream, my mind is always going."
The Doctor remained where he was, but gave a pout, "You know this is no dream, Miss. (Y/L/N). And I'm here to tell you that you're in some serious danger. That Reaper was just the beginning – there are dozens of them out there searching for you." He made his way to her, "If there's anything you should know about me by now, it's that I'll keep you safe. You come with me, and I'll make sure they don't get you."
She finally looked at him, an unbelievable look in her eyes, "You come here out of the blue, bringing whatever monster that was, and now tell me I have to go with you to be safe? Are you completely mental?"
"You would think you'd believe in me more with what you've just seen."
"I know nothing about you, how am I supposed to trust you at all?"
He bit the side of his cheek, "Well, I did just save your life."
She stared intently at the smug look now entering his face. His hair bounced as he walked, laugh lines appearing near the corners of his eyes as he smiled. She found it peculiar that he found the prospect of her supposed safety so amusing.
And when an unexpected shiver coursed through her, making her knees quake, he reached over and pulled her back into a hug. Her arms pinned between their chests, he used his free ones to rub up and down her back. An insoluble warmth started somewhere in her ribcage, radiating outwards and to her limbs.
The shaky, unsettling feeling was beginning to ebb away.
"See, hugs are the cure," he smirked, letting out a laugh and giving her an extra tight squeeze, "Feeling better?"
She didn't want to admit it, but she felt immensely better. She drew away enough to see his eyes, his peculiar eyes.
They were warm and deep brown, so deep that she felt as though she were falling. Falling into a timeless hole of history, of possibilities. The look was old, old with age and with endless memory.
"(Y/N)," she breathed out, swallowing hard, "My name's (Y/N)."
He grinned, a newfound light enveloping those old eyes, "Well, come along, (Y/N) – we've got to get going." He retracted his arms and went for the classroom door; there was a wave of sound coming from it, full of children's laughter and the ring of the school bell.
She stood there dumbstruck with what she'd just experienced, "Right, now hang on a minute, if I go with you... when will I come back?"
"Oh, I don't know – there's a mystery about you, isn't there? We've got to figure you out before we can solve your problem."
"Well, then I must make arrangements, I can't simply leave my work, my house, my..." her phone chimed again, and she peered at it with a lost train of thought.
The Doctor paused near the door, looking at her with another hint of impatience, "Your husband?"
"Fiancé, Andrew." she responded immediately, "How did you...?"
"Ring on your finger," he smirked, staring at her left hand, "If it's any consolation, time isn't an issue when you're with me."
Why did she have the sudden urge to run away with him?
"Well, I'm kind of... sort of... a Time Lord. And I can always bring you back to this exact moment when we're done."
"Time Lord? Are you saying that you can, what... travel through time?"
He shrugged his shoulders and leaned against the wall, "That's one way of putting it."
She let her gaze fall towards the ground, "And what if I chuck this all up to make believe and I refuse to come?"
"You'd most likely be hunted and killed – well, unless they want you for your little secret. Well, only if the Reapers are following some higher authority. Well, that's debatable since they're not my first choice of henchmen."
"Will you ever start making sense?" she sighed out a smile.
He grinned back, seeing her beginning to accept his reason, "Oh (Y/N), your world is about to get a lot bigger. The things I could show you. They are beyond anything you could possibly imagine."
"You mean like Paris, the Atlantic, Australia?" She gazed at him with widened eyes.
"I mean like Astragard and its seas of ash and smoke. The Platrion Galaxy where the Gates of Martontigan have monuments one hundred times the size of Stonehenge. The colony planet Galspar where they have the best ice cream in the entire universe."
He started walking towards her, hands behind his back and eyes twinkling. She clutched the phone in her hand, something stirring in her blood.
"Fintleborxtug where you can jump on the ground like a trampoline, or the Sapphire Waterfall on the planet Midnight. There's an enormous sapphire jewel the size of a great glacier there.”
He was a foot away from her, gazing into her with those ancient eyes full of memory. They bored into her own gaze, as if willing her to imagine those things in his reflection.
"Should've guessed, what with your talk of galaxies. I must seem so simple minded compared to one that's traveled through the universe."
"Don't be daft," he mumbled, "It only means we have an excuse to visit all those places – expand that empty head of yours."
She laughed, unable to discern if that was an insult or a compliment.
"Of course, we should really only focus on the task at hand, which is..." he took her hand and began to drag her along out into the hallway, "Making sure you're out of harms way while we figure out what it is these Reapers want. What makes you stand out in the entire human population."
(Y/N) was no longer protesting as she listened to his words, "And you can really travel through time? You can take me back to this moment later?"
"Yes, after we've solved your little mystery."
"I'm sorry, but how is that possible?"
The Doctor pulled her towards a nearby janitorial closet and gave her a crazed look, "I've just saved you from a Reaper, a being that you would have never thought real, and you're still questioning if time travel is possible?"
A piece of (Y/H/C) hair fell in front of her vision, a singular wave, and she brushed it away with the mildest hint of sass, "I guess I'll only believe what I can see."
He tilted his head, observing her change of demeanor, "Fine." And he opened the janitors closet to reveal what was within.
She peered in befuddled at the box she was seeing. "A police box? How did a blue police box get here?" A spark, or click, tapped the back of her mind and she felt a strange form of trust.
"That would be me," Doctor stated, raising a hand to play with the ends of his hair.
"What – is this your time machine?"
He smiled, "Like it?"
(Y/N) snickered, "It's a bit snug. Do you pick up the phone and dial a number and that's the year you're taken to?"
A frown replaced the grin, "Sar-sarcasm. Are you using sarcasm with me?" He nudged the blue box and continued, "She's being blooming sarcastic with me."
She saw the teasing within his words, "Alright, let's see it then. Maybe I'll believe your little Time Lord story after that."
And he opened the door and watched (Y/N)'s expression go from smug to confused to awed.
"It's... the inside..." she walked in and stared at the vast walls, "It's..."
"Bigger on the inside?"
"Yes!" she whirled around, "This is fantastic; it's like something out of Harry Potter."
He closed the door and shrugged off his trench coat, "Except this isn't magic, it's Time Lord science."
"Right, Time Lord," she mumbled, tracing a hand along the console, admiring the odd buttons and levers. "I'm assuming that means you're some kind of non-human, creature, thing?"
"Alien," he stated, "And if you made such a poorly executed assumption like that on any other planet, they'd take great offense to it."
She let her smile falter, hesitation in the way she shied away, "You're an alien."
"Yes, one that's about to prove to you that time travel is possible. Pick a time."
"What?" She looked at him with that curiosity itching in the back of her mind. The box filled her with an interesting energy. She couldn't quite explain it, but she felt incredibly safe in that space. She wanted to be there.
"You want me to choose?"
The Doctor fiddled with a control or two as he absentmindedly addressed her, "Oh sure! You want proof, it better be with something you'll recognize. Good old TARDIS, she'll get us there."
Tick Tock. Tick Tock. Tick Tock.
"The TARDIS," she whispered, "How about... February 22 – 2000."
He flipped a switch and paused to see the look on her face. She was avoiding his gaze, the smile completely gone now, and she held tightly to her own hands. When nothing happened for a few seconds, she turned her eyes to his observant ones.
Tick Tock. Tick Tock. Tick Tock.
He looked her up and down before twirling a ball and pressing a button, "February 22, 2000!" He yelled, apparently shifting the mood purposefully by being louder than the silence, "Allons-y."
And the whole room stumbled as if it had tripped over a rock. The floor shifting side to side in bumpy motions, completely knocking (Y/N) off her feet.
The Doctor was smiling like a giddy idiot while he held onto the console. No matter how many times he did it, there was always something exciting about taking someone on their first TARDIS ride.
After a few flashing lights and a couple of wheezes, the police box landed with a colossal bump, bouncing (Y/N) against the railing.
"What're you doing crashing your own ship?" she exasperated, pushing her hair back, "I don't know why, but I expected you'd know how to fly your own blue box."
"If I didn't know any better, I would say you're a bit grumpy." The Doctor flipped another switch and skipped for his coat.
She gazed up at him from her place on the grated floor, evidently waiting for him to give her a hand up.
Instead he threaded his arms through his coat and observed the steam emitting from the top of his console, "Well, I'll tell you one thing – this old girl was a bit reluctant to land."
(Y/N) rolled her eyes and stood on her own, brushing off the dust, "Is that some excuse for your poor flying skills?"
He finally turned his gaze to hers, frowning, "No – aren't you listening – she was fighting against the time jump. She only ever does that with parallels and paradoxes; where exactly did you take us?"
"I'm sorry, but you're making it sound like the TARDIS, your ship, is alive?"
They walked towards the door, "Well, yeah – what did you expect?"
(Y/N) scoffed, clasping her hands together, "Oh, I don't know, when you say it's a time machine then I'm going to assume it behaves like a machine and not something with conscious thought."
The Doctor twirled around, coat swishing behind him with one hand on the door handle, "The TARDIS is not an it. She's a she."
(Y/N) quickly noted the striking look in his face and removed any sarcasm from her tone, "Right, she..." She grazed a hand along the railing of the ramp to the entrance and an unexpected flurry of lights and noise came from the console.
"Strange," Doctor muttered, moving his eyes across the ceiling, "She likes you – she never likes anyone – at least not right off. She's like a cat in that respect. You insulted her and everything, and yet she's purring." He let his words fly from his mouth, as if he were trying to move his lips as quickly as his thoughts, "Or maybe she's sensing something from you, also kind of like a pet."
The TARDIS gave another flurry of sound, but in a much lower octave and the Doctor ran a hand along the doorframe, "Sorry, old girl, of course you're more than a pet to me."
(Y/N) kept her hands held tightly in front of her.
"What is she sensing off of you?" He took two large strides to reach her figure, standing uncomfortably close again, "Dilated pupils, pale lips, shaky hands... you're nervous about something." He turned his head quickly from the door to her a few times, pointing one of his spindly fingers, "You're scared of whatever's out there. That's why the TARDIS was hesitating to land, that's why you're all grumpy and snippy, and that's why you're looking at me like you want me to burst into flames."
She stared at him for a few more seconds, finally moving her gaze towards the floor, "Do you ever stop talking?"
"900 years and I've never figured out how." He gave a quick smile and stuck his tongue between his teeth. The twinkle in his eye lessened her nerves somehow, making her gaze at him with a small amount of gratitude. "Oh, was I being rude? That was the first thing I noticed about this body – has a touch of rudeness."
Shaking her head, starting to realize that she'll probably never fully understand the man, "I've noticed – always with a bit of impertinence."
The Doctor smiled again, "Look at you with the big words." His gaze softened suddenly, catching (Y/N) off guard, seeing the deep falling colors lessen to simple kindness, "Come along now."
He took her clutched hands and confidently opened the door.
It looked like they were back in the janitorial closet of her primary school. All her pent up nerves almost vanished completely, "Have we seriously not moved at all?"
The Doctor kept hold of her hand and made for the door handle, "Seriously, Miss. (Y/L/N), you're going to have to start trusting me if we're going to manage space and time travel."
The kindness from his eyes was threading into his voice and she could manage to keep the irritation at bay. If it were really February 22, 2000, outside that door, she was about to enter a moment of time that she'd been dreaming about witnessing for years.
And when the janitorial closet was opened and she saw the hospital tile below, she felt the rush of realization and terrified eagerness envelop her.
"A hospital?" the Doctor muttered, pulling (Y/N) out into the hallway, "What're we at a hospital for? I’ve never liked hospitals.”
She didn't seem able to respond, her gaze searching for the nearest directory. St. Bartholomew's, it said, the trauma floor and surrounding services. It drew her attention to down the hallway of doors, seeking the number she'd memorized and pondered for as long as she could remember.
"Eh, (Y/N)? How about we let the Time Lord handle the timey-wimey stuff," he strode quickly behind her quick steps, "Look, (Y/N), if you chose a time and place from your own timeline, then we have to be careful."
She disregarded him, heart pounding in her ears.
Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock.
There was the room, number 110, the window with the shades open just a smidge.
"(Y/N), I need you to listen to me..." he finally caught her shoulder and made her face him. "(Y/N), there's something you need to understand. If you chose a time where we could see your past self then we have to make sure you stay out of sight."
The kindness in his gaze had a hint of desperation, wide and imploring and he waggled a finger in front of her expressionless face. She stared at him and quivered with his hand on her shoulder, "Don't worry, we won't see each other."
He tilted his head and scrunched his brow, "What do you mean?"
She turned her gaze to the window beside them and muttered, "Cause I'm asleep – and I'll be asleep for just a while longer."
The Doctor followed her look and snuck a glance through the window shades, "Is that you?"
(Y/N) stood beside him, breathing shallow, "Yeah."
Laying in the hospital bed was another (Y/N), one that was sound asleep with an oxygen mask and a few IVs in place. She saw her own knotted hair and dark circles beneath her eyes; her skin was ashen grey, and the monitors ticked and tocked with her heartbeat.
"What happened?" the Doctor quietly asked, remaining still as they watched her past self snooze.
She took a deep breath, "A while before this, I was found – wandering the streets and passed out in the gutter – I was brought here... and was in a coma for a few months." She swallowed hard and muttered, "Today is the day I woke up."
The Doctor moved just enough to glance at her expression, putting his hands in his suit pockets. "Why would you want to come back here?"
(Y/N) remained silent for a few moments longer, staring at her sickly self through the window, "Because today is the first memory I have. Before waking up today, I can't remember a thing." She could feel the Doctor boring into her, searching for some kind of reaction, "I just... with the possibility of time travel – I wanted to see it all for myself. Maybe I could get another clue as to who I am."
He pouted and continued to look at her, "You don't have any idea who you are?"
"Who I am, where I come from, what my name is, if I have a family..." she took a shuddering breath and refrained from letting the moment hit her fully. "If there are people out there looking for me, if I was abandoned on purpose or if I was taken away."
"Well... that makes things a bit more difficult."
She was surprised by his change of tone, turning glassy eyes to his slightly more enthused ones.
"I mean, the whole idea of taking you with me was to figure you out – to see what makes you so desirable to the Reapers – and now it appears that the only information you have spans a measly seven years."
She could see him trying to deflect the mood with his twinkling eyes and cheeky grin and fluctuating tone of voice. She could feel her chest pulling at wanting to smile as easily as him, then again, how genuine that smile was crossed her mind.
He sniffed and cleared his throat, "I suppose before when I said your head was empty for filling..." A sneaky glance made her crack the smallest hint of a smile.
"Maybe this is part of the mystery of why I'm special – according to your noisy box." She blinked her glazed eyes a few times and folded her arms, "I just can't remember."
The Doctor called out suddenly, "Alright, might as well investigate while we're here." He whipped out a pair of glasses and pulled a chart from a peg on the door.
(Y/N) upturned the corner of her mouth and stated, "You're going to help me?"
He flipped through the first few pages and scanned hurriedly, "Yep, you've conveniently chosen a time and place where we can start solving your little mystery." He gave a cheeky smile, "And I know a thing or two about solving mysteries."
She felt more warmth spreading to her limbs despite her knees shaking where she stood, "But why?" She watched him be consumed with what he saw, "I'm being hunted by alien creatures, radiating some trackable alien substance, and I have no past I can recall explaining any of it. Why would you pop up and take on a case like that?"
The Doctor removed his glasses and took his time to turn his gaze on her, "Because it's what I do – I'm the Doctor."
That feeling that she won't ever properly understand came over her again. "So calling yourself Doctor is more of a title than a name?"
He gave her one of those pondering looks, "Well... I believe you chose your name when you came to, right? Said you couldn't remember your real one." He hesitated only to see if she would respond, "I suppose you could say I chose mine too."
"Why did you do that if you had one to begin with?"
The Doctor moved his eyes, so he was looking at nothing in particular, "I woke up."
She was struck with momentary irritation at his short answer – something so cryptic.
"There's something strange about these documents," he continued as if there was nothing peculiar about what he had just shared. "What can you see written here?"
(Y/N) leaned over and read aloud, "Patient is called Jane Doe, blood type is A+, notes say there are symptoms of amnesia, dehydration, emaciation, and a possible heart arrhythmia."
"That's not what I see at all," the Doctor held up his glasses and compared the paper with and without peering through them. "The writing's a bit dodgy, fuzzy around the corners, now my eyesight can't be that bad."
(Y/N) unfolded her arms and leaned closer, "What are you seeing?"
"Patient called (Y/N) (Y/L/N), blood category is O-, and the notes are rambling on about a concussion, bipolar syndrome, and anemia." He handed his glasses over to (Y/N) and held the chart an inch away from his face.
"You're making that up – how could we be seeing two different sets of information on the same piece of paper?"
The Doctor sniffed the four corners of the page and then proceeded to lick a long strip up the middle, "Interesting." He hummed, "Tastes of peppermint."
(Y/N) amused him with a disgusted face, "Peppermint?"
"The smell opens up the mind, clears the senses, makes you susceptible to persuasion – psychic paper."
"A page that tells you what you want to hear," Doctor muttered, turning the chart all around so he can see every edge. "Not usually effective on geniuses like myself."
(Y/N) blinked a few times and waved her hands around, "Are you telling me that there's more alien things happening to me? You think it has something to do with how I got here?"
"Well, your information seems to be faked by alien technology," he replaced the chart on the wall and leaned against the window again, "Why would a human be protected by alien technology?"
"Friends in higher places?"
"Or..." he looked back at her with squinted, observant eyes, "You're not all that you think you are."
She appeared confused and slightly fearful of that prospect, but in a moment of silent wonderings she noticed a pair of scrubs making their way towards them.
"Doctor, we need to hide, now." She grasped his coat sleeve and turned to find the nearest on-call room.
They slid across the tiled floor and hid in the dark space with only a small window in the door to light their faces. "What'd you do that for?"
She felt her heart begin to race a bit, flattening herself against the wall, "My nurse was making his way over." She watched the Doctor look out for the man in scrubs, "I mean – my fiancé."
"I may or may not have gotten engaged to my nurse."
He grinned his funny grin and addressed (Y/N), "That's rather cheeky of you."
"His face was the first one I saw when I woke up. You could say I got rather attached to whatever my first memory was."
"Oh, humans," Doctor mused, turning around and finding a rack of white coats, "So romantic and sentimental." He grabbed a coat to replace his brown one.
(Y/N) finally managed to pull herself from the wall, "What do you think you're doing?"
"Part of investigating is interrogation – seeing as you're occupied at the moment in dreamland, I might as well question the next most helpful. Your nurse."
She gapped her mouth and stuttered, "But – but doesn't that do something terrible to the space-time quantum continuum future?" She flailed her arms at his puzzled stare, "Won't your interfering change my future?"
He straightened his white coat and reached for his glasses still clutched in (Y/N)'s hands, "You'll find that being a Time Lord I have a bit more free range about judging what's a fixed point in history and what's open for suggestion."
And without another word he flung the door open and traveled back down the hallway to her old hospital room.
Her entire existence was being changed before her eyes – everything she knew about herself was being rewritten in her sparing memories. Psychic paper and intelligent TARDIS' and alien lifeforms. The sudden knowledge was soaking her up, taking her curiosity to new levels. The mission to figure out who she was began to resurrect within her.
After years of searching and giving up, she finally found another reason to try, she had a small glimmer of hope.
And it was all because of some time traveling spaceman that was interrogating her future fiancé as she stood there thinking in the dark.
Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock.
She went for the closet and found an indiscernible pair of scrubs, quickly throwing them on and pulling her hair into a tight bun to hide it. Stringing a facemask over her ears, she snuck out the door and fumbled her way to her hospital room.
Peering through the window she saw the Doctor pretending to check her vitals as she slept. Her nurse-fiancé was standing at the foot of the bed and holding a clipboard of paperwork and charts.
"Andrew," she muttered, looking at her future husband flip through files. His face was the one she remembered, the first one to greet her, calm her, help her. Before thinking about it too much she shoved the door open and watched as both men snapped their heads over.
"Hello," she said with a strained voice. She adjusted her facemask to cover as much as she could, "I've... I've been asked to – to get confirmation on, um... the patient's diagnosis."
Andrew gave a puzzled expression, "I'm sorry?"
"There's been some, uh – confusion on what this patient is suffering from. Scans have been befuddled."
"Who ordered this?" Andrew questioned, staring at this new nurse with heavy skepticism.
The Doctor interfered smoothly, "I did – I noticed that notes have been inconsistent. The charts have been contradicting one another." He gave a swift wink towards (Y/N), apparently pleased in the way she ran in with improvisation.
"Well, I'm the leading nurse on her case," he went on, "Whatever questions you have I can answer.”
(Y/N) nodded vigorously, "Right, yes – sorry, this is my first day."
He gave her another speculating look, "Alright." He got a nod from the Doctor and sifted through the files in his hands, "It's true that the first scans are a bit fuzzy, but the machines have always been temperamental – that's what you get with a strained budget. We can order a new set when she wakes up."
The Doctor and (Y/N) walked over to peer over the nurse's shoulders. It was true that the X-rays and CT scans were a bit dim; they didn't hold a whole lot of information. You couldn't exactly tell what organ was what.
"The chest cavity is all messed up," the Doctor stated, earning a glare from (Y/N). "Why can't you see anything in the ribcage? Or the abdomen for that matter."
"Like I said, the machines are a bit wonky when they choose to be. We managed to get a clearer one the other day after her routine six month check-up." He extracted the most recent pages and revealed perfectly taken scans.
The Doctor snatched them immediately and held them to the light. After a second he sniffed the surface deeply before taking an unnecessarily long lick.
(Y/N) couldn't help but snicker at the way Andrew looked affronted, but she knew what the Doctor was searching for.
"And what about the diagnosis?" he continued, running his tongue over his teeth.
"Um... it's speculated she has amnesia, but other than that we've had on and off readings for heart arrhythmia, anemia – possible sickle cell, underdeveloped lungs, maybe asthma. But we can't be sure until she wakes up."
(Y/N) nodded, putting her hands behind her back, "And you're not sure when that'll be?"
He gave a sympathetic smile, as if saying it's ridiculous to ask such a stupid question, "Well, we don't exactly have a timer on each coma patient. They wake up when they choose to."
The Doctor went to lean over the sleeping (Y/N), tossing the scans back towards Andrew. He prodded her cheek, laying a hand over her forehead, and moved her upper lip to peer at her teeth.
"Andy, didn't you say her vitals have been picking up in the last week?"
The nurse appeared affronted again, "How did you know my name? Only my friends call me Andy and you're new here."
Tactless. She pinched the palm of her hand in punishment for failing the smooth entry of information. She only knew about the vitals because it was one of the notes in her full medical report later on.
"Sorry, someone at the nurse's station mentioned."
It appeared to be a satisfactory response for now, as he continued with a slight frown, "Yes, her vitals have been raising from a dormant state to one that is moving around."
She stared at him with the strange realization that this was the past Andy she was talking to. This Andy only knew her as the lost girl that slept for months on end. It was strange looking at him and not having recognition look back at her.
Meanwhile the Doctor was continuing with his checking, sticking a finger in coma (Y/N)'s ear and then placing a hand on her cheek.
"Oh no..." he muttered.
A spike on the heart monitor signaled Andrew to the side of the bed, "What're you doing over here?"
(Y/N) felt a shock of panic course her chest, snapping her head to look at the clock and then to the bed.
"She's waking up," Andy stated, "I don't believe it – she's waking up."
The Doctor remained where he was, leaning over (Y/N) and holding the side of her head. Her eyes were beginning to flutter open, adjusting to the harsh light. The man above her ran a thumb over her cheek and grinned, "Brilliant."
The heart monitor began to alarm with the sudden raise in blood pressure and heart rate, "Where – where am I? Who are you? What're you doing standing over me?"
The Doctor seemed to come to his senses and backed away, retracting his hand as if he had touched something scalding hot. The (Y/N) in bed tried to sit up, all in a tizzy, but found herself unable to.
Andrew stepped in, calming and resting her down against the pillows, "Your muscles will be sore. They haven't been used in quite a while."
But her eyes remained on the Doctor as he went to stand next to present (Y/N) near the door. His hands went to his pockets as he awkwardly looked anywhere but the bed.
"I think we should go," (Y/N) muttered, taking the Doctor's sleeve, "We'll spread the word."
Andrew waved them off, taking hold of his patient's hand and giving his full undivided attention.
The Doctor and (Y/N) went back towards the janitorial closet and the waiting TARDIS. They stripped themselves of the hospital outfits and stared at each other for a few moments.
"Did we really just..."
The Doctor tried to hide a smile, "Yes."
She wracked her brains a bit more and suddenly came upon a memory, something she knew to be different but somehow also knew it as the only memory she ever had.
"You changed my memory – my future."
He pursed his lips and brushed off his trench coat, "I have no idea what you mean."
"I told you the first face I saw when I woke up was Andrew's. But just now – and now in my head – your face was the first one I saw." She had a hand to her temple like she had a sudden head rush, "I now recognize you as the doctor that brought me out of my coma. You were my doctor, Doctor!"
He clenched his teeth and sucked in a hissing breath, "Yeah, about that – it's not the worst disturbance in your timeline, other than ruining the romantic meeting between you and your fiancé."
She balled up her used scrubs and threw them at the guilty Doctor, "You were supposed to help me find my missing memories, not change the ones I already had!" There was a hint of a laugh behind her words, but she was amused by the slight apprehension in the Doctor's face.
"Now, (Y/N), it's not some life altering change, you can still tell the kids it was really your husband you saw first."
"Whatever – husband soon enough. The point is now we know someone was interfering with your files. First the charts and then the scans..."
(Y/N) folded her arms tightly, hiding her balled fists, and let the rush of the events crash over her. "The scans tasted of peppermint too?"
The Doctor seemed to thrive from her thoughts catching on; he pointed a finger at her, "Yes, exactly." He paced around the TARDIS' console, thinking out loud, "Someone replaced your information with psychic paper, powerful psychic paper.”
"That means – then that means whatever alien contact I've had came from when I first got to the hospital."
"Yes, something alien got you to that hospital and filed you as a patient without proper information."
She put a finger between her teeth and stated, "Then maybe this alien person wiped my memory too, maybe they had something to do with it and made it their responsibility that I was taken care of in hospital."
The Doctor appeared thrilled with the new developments, running down the ramp and towards her scrunched figure. His plastered grin tugged at her chest but didn't remove the tense frown from her face. As she stared at his ignited eyes, her hand subconsciously drifted from her teeth to her cheek – the one he held when she woke up.
But this time his brow wasn't contorted and concerned, it was raised and amused.
"That's progress, isn't it? Now we should try to retrace your steps from that hospital bed, see if we can get anything more. Or else we could follow the Reapers."
She felt her shaky knees return, her hands clenching against the trembling. She had learned more about her past in the last hour than she'd learned in the last seven years being awake. It was ridiculous to think of what had just happened – they had changed her memories, she spoke to her fiancé without him knowing who she was, and she stared at herself in a coma while an alien licked a peppermint flavored CT scan.
And to think, this morning she was fretting over a coffee stain on her trousers.
The Doctor seemed to notice the slight panic entering her vision, her hand still clutching her cheek. He placed a hand on her shoulder and felt her trembling, "(Y/N)?" She snapped her gaze to his and found that familiar concerned look, the one she woke up to.
"It's just a lot, isn't it? Time travel, being in two places at once, finally getting answers."
He stared at her intently, now pouting and gently pulling her in. He wrapped his arms around her and sighed, "Delicate humans – I went and overwhelmed your little human brain."
Again she couldn't tell if he was insulting her or complimenting her. She saw the comfort nonetheless and started to return the hug, "Look at me, shivering and I haven't even seen a Reaper."
The Doctor chuckled at her attempted joke, rubbing up and down her back – the cure to facing a Reaper, "I suppose I should properly ask you now." He held her close as he spoke, "There's so much more to the universe then us figuring out your past. It's beautiful out there, (Y/N), and I could show you all of it." He pulled away enough to see her pondering face, "How would you feel about traveling... with me."
She searched his gaze, the way it made her fall, fall into endless ancient history. That was the word for him: ancient. There was so much to behold... and to hide.
"I could protect you – keep you safe," he went on, evidently sensing her hesitation to respond.
"I thought you said there wasn't a choice in coming with you," she muttered, swallowing hard, "It's either that or be hunted and killed."
He snuck a smug smile, "Like I said, I'm asking you properly now. I don't want to force you to stay when you don't want to. I'm offering more than protection now; I'm offering the universe."
She looked at his old, distant eyes and found that twinkle of curiosity and something a bit more urgent... something like hope.
"And you can take me home whenever – so I don't miss out on my Earth life?"
"Of course, whatever you want."
She finally cracked a smile and unclenched her hands, "The whole universe, eh?"
Cheekiness entered those hopeful eyes, "Past, present, and future."
"Seems like a whole lot of memories to be made, Doctor. Wherever shall we start."
He grew into an earsplitting grin, "Brilliant!" And he wrapped his arms around her, swinging her across the TARDIS, laughing as they went. "Right, seeing as you're going to be staying at l'hôtel le tardis for an extended period... I will gladly show you to your room."
(Y/N) leaned against the railing, wondering what on earth he meant. The TARDIS was a circular ship; there was no other door besides the one opening to outer space. She grinned, "Do you have some secret hall of rooms stashed away beneath the seats?"
She gestured towards the few worn spaceship chairs he'd once confiscated off a drifting American craft and it made him jump, "Well, where do you think I sleep?"
Again she stared at those lumpy, dirty chairs with an air of disgust, and it got him laughing, "Remember what I told you about Time Lord science? Everything is bigger on the inside." He led the way down the ramp and knelt to the ground, peering into the grate beneath.
(Y/N) snickered, starting to get use to all the peculiarity that came with being around the Doctor, "Have you lost your rooms?"
"It could be possible," he breathed out seriously, attempting to find a grip along the grate panel, "Sometimes the TARDIS likes to toy with me."
(Y/N) looked around the ceiling of the craft, smiling, "Someone's got to."
The Doctor let out a short laugh of exclamation, lifting the panel from the ground and revealing a short ladder downwards. Whatever (Y/N) was expecting to see at the bottom was nothing close to what she actually saw.
Stepping off the rungs of the ladder, there was a wide living space, complete with a makeshift kitchen and lounge chairs. A number of doors lined the walls, including an opening to a long hallway that seemed to go on forever.
The Doctor went over, smacking a few of the couch cushions and emitting a flurry of dust into the air, "Sorry – this place doesn't get used much."
"But don't you live here?" Her eyes scanned the space, wonderment at how much was stuck inside a seemingly tiny police box.
"Yes, well – I don't require as much sustenance and rest as humans do. I don't eat nearly as often, and I can put myself in a trance of sleep for twenty minutes that feels like eight hours for you humans." He put his hands in his pockets and had a second of shame for not providing a more suitable living environment.
(Y/N) could only smirk, "Then what will you do when I have to eat and sleep? Like you said, we don't know how long I'm staying here at l'hôtel le tardis."
Looking at her broke him out of his momentary guilt, "There's plenty to do when investigating. I'll just continue on with the job, but don't worry – I'll save the best adventures for when you're bright eyed and bushy tailed."
She nodded and found that she couldn't meet his eyes, it was rather strange being in the space, like she was the alien there. Technically she was – and she had to force herself to remember the reason she was there at all.
"Uh – your room is just here." He gestured towards a door beside the set of couches, taking the liberty to lead her to it.
The room itself was just as dusty and dingy as the rest of the things on the spaceship. Everything was still and stuffy from lack of use and seemed a bit tousled from the number of landings the TARDIS had done.
There was a bed complete with pillows and maroon sheets, along with a nightstand and a vanity. (Y/N) could feel the Doctor's eyes boring into the back of her head, so she urged her feet to enter the room entirely. She was silent for a while, apparently a while too long as the Doctor started rambling onward.
"I know, I know – I advertised a hotel and you're getting something less than a motel," he ran a hand over the back of his neck, "But like I said, this place doesn't get used very often. And if I knew I was going to be picking up a house guest, I would've spruced the place up a bit. Well, that is if I could find the vacuum, or a rag for that matter."
He awkwardly folded his arms, scrunching his shoulders in a way to fill the silence with his eccentrics. "But we can throw the dust out and get you whatever you need. I suppose you'll need a few things, like... socks and... hairpins. And maybe a toothbrush – oh on second thought..." And he reached into his trench coat and extracted a packaged toothbrush, "We can cross that one off the list."
(Y/N) finally turned to him, hugging herself and nodding to his words. She almost felt sorry for him; the way he couldn't seem to shut up was perhaps endearing.
"Oh! And there's a bathroom just off there so you don't have to leave your room for a shower. The TARDIS is very kind about providing hot water, unless you accidentally park her on top of a tree, but I doubt you'll do that."
"Hmm?" he hummed his reply, staring at her and thinning his lips as he clamped his mouth shut.
She let out a smile she was purposefully holding, "This will do just fine."
He breathed out a sigh of relief, "Brilliant."
"Grocery shopping will be a must – I'm assuming you don't have shampoo or pajamas in that coat of yours?"
The Doctor quirked his lips, padding down the front of his jacket comically, "No, fresh out of pajamas. We can go explore a few of the other rooms for some though. The TARDIS is always full of surprises."
(Y/N) raised an eyebrow in question, but he moved on, "You settle yourself and I'll be up by the console when you're ready." He hesitated, his gaze lingering on her for a second too long before turning with a flourish back to the ladder.
She laughed under her breath, using her hands to push back her hair and stare at her temporary bedroom.
It was peculiar, the whole thing – the thought of her dropping her life on earth so quickly and taking the hand of an actual alien with a time machine. A time machine disguised as an outdated police box and filled with this Time Lord science.
It was hard to imagine that she was preparing a lesson for her primary students not even a full day ago. She abandoned her position as a teacher and left with a strange man in the janitorial closet. What would Andy think?
She moved towards the vanity, taking a seat with a finger between her teeth. A plume of dust rose and fell on her thighs.
What could it mean that months before she's supposed to be married, she runs away?
It doesn't mean anything.
But she ran away with a man.
An alien man.
But she can't put her life on hold to go explore a universe with an alien.
You can when he has a time machine.
(Y/N) smacked the voice in her head, aggravated that she was trying to justify. The bottom line was that she ran. Why was she so willing and eager to run?
Tick tock. Tick tock. Tick tock.
"No," she said to herself. "This is a little vacation. I didn't run away – I was given an opportunity for a holiday and I took it."
"I can leave whenever I want. I can jump to whatever time I want. And Andy wouldn't mind because nothing bad is going to happen here."
She waited for the voice to contradict her again, but all she heard was the beat of her watch. It put an eerie tone on the silence as she stood from the chair, wiping her hands against her dusty trousers.
She didn't even consider the fact that she was in some kind of peril. If she doesn't figure out why she's being hunted then going back to earth would be entirely pointless. She'd be in more danger stuck on earth than up in space with the Doctor.
Nodding to her reasoning, she made the journey back up the ladder, noticing how the grate panel had mysteriously vanished. The Doctor had his reading glasses on, consulting a manual in his hands, speaking without looking up, "Back already. You all right?"
She shrugged her shoulders, "I don't exactly have a lot to settle in with."
He turned to her, smacking his lips, "Right. We'll get on that soon, but for now I want to look at something. Would you come here a moment?" He waved her over frantically as he reached for a screen against the center of the console. (Y/N) paced her steps up the ramp with quickening curiosity.
Pulling it out for a better viewpoint, he grasped (Y/N)'s shoulders and positioned her to the side, "Now the TARDIS has many uses, and one includes a scanner. Though it's not as advanced as some systems out there... she could tell us at least something." He struggled and managed to extract a wired tool from the console. It looked like a code scanner from the grocery store.
"You mean you're going to x-ray me?" (Y/N) asked, holding perfectly still as the Doctor brandished his new toy.
"Precisely." A red bar lit her as the Doctor waved the tool up and down her torso and head. From the intense look on his face, he was hoping for some enlightening results.
The monitor screen was angled just enough for (Y/N)'s viewing advantage. She watched as a figure outline appeared there, showing a green label titled 'SCANNING.' It waited a few moments while the Doctor continued to wave his code scanner around.
"You know the only x-rays I've gotten have come from my coma checkups and physical therapy."
"You haven't broken any bones or anything since the accident?"
She rolled her eyes towards the ceiling to think, "No. Actually, now that I think about it, I don't go to the hospital any other time than for my coma checkups. I never get sick, I've had no need for flu shots, I haven't needed stitches or surgeries or penicillin."
The Doctor seemed only mildly interested in the fact, it simply meant their search was going to have less to go on. "You must have a healthy immune system, spare you from strep and stomach flus."
(Y/N) scrunched her shoulders slightly, "But I mean I haven't even needed allergy medication or have had the common cold. I just don't get sick. Isn't that a little weird?"
"I'm sure your nurse fiancé would've said something if it was overly concerning."
'SCAN COMPLETE,' the monitor read; though in smaller writing below, a red label declared, 'Human – No Abnormalities Detected.'
"Blasted thing," the Doctor muttered fiercely, dropping the scanner unceremoniously onto the console. "I had a hunch that wouldn't work. Took special technology to find you through your particle trail; I wasn't going to be surprised if it took something more to figure the source."
He had one hand on his hip and the other ruffling the back of his neck. (Y/N) almost laughed at the scrunched, concentrated look on his face.
"What were you hoping to find?"
He pursed his lips, squinting his eyes at nothing in particular, "Something that shouldn't be there – something not of earth origin. If it didn't tell me why the Reapers are after you, I would've at least like to have found out why you have a pulsating particle trail that can be seen from galaxies away."
(Y/N) intertwined her hands in front of her, sort of subconsciously swaying in a comforting way, "Then where can we go to find that out if not here?"
"Well..." he turned on his heel as if inspiration had just burst under his wings, "As there must be a biological factor, as it is about your particle trail, we'll need to find professionals in the field. Seeing as you have no apparent need for a human hospital, we can go somewhere that has the proper equipment and knowledge to decode your particles and genetics." He ran around the console, flipping switches and twisting knobs, and (Y/N) knew they were about to make another time jump.
"You know, you could just tell me the destination instead of describing your thought process to it."
The Doctor pressed a few buttons with a flaunty display, addressing her with a cheeky grin, "Where's the fun in that? I get to the point eventually." He grasped a lever and entered a few coordinates in an adjacent keypad, "We, Miss. (Y/L/N), are heading for New New York Hospital. Full of revolutionary technology.”
She braced herself on the nearby railing, "New New York Hospital? You sure you didn't misspeak?"
He grinned widely again, pulling down on the lever and setting the engines in motion, "We've been to the past – now it's time for the future."
The TARDIS lurched forward, teetering back and forth, sending (Y/N) soaring. She bounced between the railing and the console as the Doctor frolicked about his buttons and switches. She gripped the nearest thing to her for some sort of balance but was unprepared for the whiplash the TARDIS made in the opposite direction.
The Doctor was flung onto the dirty astronaut seats, legs splayed in the air. (Y/N) rubbed a knot in her stomach where a bar lodged itself during the sudden change in course, "What happened?"
"Dunno," the Doctor yelled over the whirs of the flying TARDIS. The ship made an exhausting sigh as it slowed, the rocking coming to a minimum, "Looks like she's changed her mind."
(Y/N) had to remind herself that the TARDIS was more of a sentient ship rather than a manmade machine, "You mean she's taking us somewhere else?"
"Must've sensed some trouble or caught a stray signal."
“That can’t be good.”
“On the contrary,” the Doctor mused, grinning ear to ear, “It could be a million different things – something new, exciting, dangerous, whatever. Isn’t that brilliant?”
She shook her head, but smiled nonetheless, “So the hospital can wait.”
“You agreed to travel the universe, and the universe you are going to get!”
@caswinchester2000 @aria253264 @bippity-boppity-boopa @kaqua @zerocanonlywriteshit
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