“Right then, I have questions. But number one is this: What in the name of sanity do you have on your head?” “It’s a fez. I wear a fez now. Fezes are cool.”
“Excuse me, terribly sorry to bother you. I was just wondering, where is everyone?”
“Where do you think? Quarantined inside their homes like the rest of the world.”
“Right, yes, silly of me to ask.” The man clasped his hands together. “Now, if everyone else is at home, why aren’t you?”
You shrugged. “It’s too beautiful a day to be inside, even if there’s a worldwide pandemic going on. I’m still isolating myself from other people; I’m just doing it at the park.”
“Oh, of course!” His exclamation almost made you jump. “This is 2020, isn’t it?”
“Sure is,” you sighed. “Worst year of our lives.”
“Well then, why don’t we get out of here?”
“Not like there’s anywhere else to go. Coffee shops, movie theaters, everywhere’s closed.”
“I wasn’t talking about the park. I meant we should leave this whole year behind.”
You laughed at the stranger’s comment. “If only we had some kind of time machine.”
He grinned and adjusted his bow tie. “Well, actually…”
So, I haven’t gone back and rewatched Matt Smith’s era in years.I haven’t seen the entirety of the show since the first time I watched it back in 2013 and seeing as how we’re well into 13′s era now, there are things I’m noticing about 9-12 that I didn’t notice before.
Here’s where this piece comes in. Eleven is angry. All the time. Angrier then I ever remember, and he was my first doctor! I haven’t written Doctor Who in a while, so here’s a piece. Let me know what you think!
REQUESTS ARE OPEN!
***
The anger of a good man is not absolute. Good men don’t need rules.
There’s a man out there who roams the Universe in a blue box with a human by his side that calls himself The Doctor. He’s many things.. cruel but kind, brave but cowardly, and prides himself in never carrying a gun because his weapon is his mind and his tool of choice is the sonic screwdriver that never leaves his person.
He’s ancient. Bright green eyes that seem to soften whenever they stare into yours, eyes that mirror the way the stars burn and the way civilizations have fallen at his hands; Eyes that shine as brightly as the sun and are so often able to hide the one thing he never allows you to see.
There’s a lot of things they don’t tell you. Impressionable young girl with a thirst for thrill seeking, craving the ability to see what’s out in the great beyond.
“They say he’s made of the Universe and carries starlight in his kiss.”
The Doctor was an enigma to the people of the world. Only a select few knew of him, knew him intimately, but no one was ever able to thank him for his service to humanity for all the things he’d done. You’d heard the whispers about his species and how he was the only one of them who cared for humans. Who put them above all else. Even above himself.
“Who wouldn’t want to look at something so beautiful?”
When you finally meet, it’s like looking into the heart of the sun. Devastating and terrifying and altogether beautiful.Eyes older then the stars and hands that cradled the world envelop yours and The Doctor whisks you away on an adventure that you’re sure to never forget.
You find out quickly that he wears his hearts on his sleeve and he desires nothing more then to be loved the same way he’s loved so many before him.
“What are you afraid of?”
He doesn’t tell you the first time you ask. After countless encounters with death and near scares that you or the Ponds would be ripped away from him before he could have a solid grip, The Doctor sets the Tardis in the Medusa Cascade and approaches you with two cups of tea. Made just the way you like it.
“I’ve lost many people. Some left. Some died.” He was sitting close enough to you now that you could feel the warmth that radiated from his skin. “I think my greatest fear is that I’ll end up burying you before we’ve ever really began.”
You set your cup of tea down and scooted just close enough to see the way his breath caught in his throat, taking his hand in your own to spread his fingers wide against your torso. Your heartbeat thrummed beneath his fingers; Wild and erratic and alive.
“You feel that?” Warm breath ghosted across your face as you bent your head and whispered, “That’s a heart as far from the grave as it can be.” before claiming his mouth with your own.
It’s month of reckless love and chasing each other down paths that were once so dark. Kisses and holding hands, whimpers and moans and declarations of love in the dead of night when he makes love to you. Amy and Rory know, River knows, anyone who comes across your path knowsthat you are his and his alone. You came to terms with that when you met - that he’d stolen you - but what they didn’t know is that you had also stolen him.
They didn’t say what loving The Doctor was like. They didn’t warn you about the death and the destruction and the heartbreak wrapped up in one very lonely man.
And when The Doctor dies on the shores of Lake Silencio, casting one last look at you over his shoulder as if to reassure himself that you’re still there, the universe explodes in front of your eyes the moment his body hits the ground. Sand stains your hands and stars flicker in your eyes as you bury your face in his chest and weep.
For a moment you wonder if loving the Universe was worth it.
pure POETRY. This is ABSOLUTELY GORGEOUS and I’m so glad you’ve written for Doctor Who again!!
