Fanfic - DW/RW: So, a Doctor … - Ch.3 - Into the Mind
Title: So, a Doctor, a King, and a Knight Walk Into a TARDIS and …
Author: eboniorchid
Full Header for the Series
Chapter Three: Into the Mind
Hours later, shuffling sounds emerged from the hallway in the form of one dark-haired male, sporting boxers and a plain t-shirt. The Doctor only acknowledged him when he finally decided to speak.
"Do you ever need sleep?"
"Sometimes." He looked up briefly from the second cycle of his maintenance routine. "But not usually, no."
"Are you a hybrid too?"
"No. We are naturally humanoid in form. Externally anyway."
"Oh." Max nodded, moving a little closer as the Doctor continued his routine. "Sometimes, I wonder about my other form - how much sleep I used to need, whether I had dreams like I do now. … Do you dream?"
It was an odd question, but the Doctor realized that he was probably one of only a few aliens that the boy had ever met and maybe the only non-Antarian he'd been able to have a conversation with. Smiling kindly, he put his work on a lengthier pause and addressed Max more fully. "I dream all the time. We're fairly complex in terms of shutting down parts of our minds for recharging without actually shutting the whole system down."
"Interesting. … And you're from where again?" Max's innocence was real, but there was still a keenly cutting curiosity below the surface.
The Doctor smiled even wider, eyes brightening to take on a twinkle of TARDIS light. "Practically everywhere."
Max's lips tilted into a sort of smile, but his eyes seemed to darken with knowledge beyond his years as his voice flowed out, soft and low. "You can't go home either."
It wasn't a question, so he didn't have to answer it. He just pursed his lips, gaze dropping as he went back to his busywork. "The TARDIS is home enough for me."
Max was quiet for a while then, but then he moved closer again, still appropriately distanced but too close to be ignored. "You must miss it sometimes, though. I barely remember Antar and I miss it. That's most of what I dream about."
The Doctor watched his fingers move deftly over the console's peaks and grooves. "Did you have to leave when you were young?" The stats were good and the maintenance was nearly mindless, so he could afford a little small talk, right?
"I- …" Max took in a long breath. "It's complicated." He struggled in his search for words. "I should remember more, or- … I want to remember more- … I need to … but I can't."
The Doctor nodded, understanding, though a part of him was almost envious of that ability, the ability not to forget a birthday but to forget a war, forget trauma and devastation, forget blood and betrayal. "Maybe it's better that way."
"It's not." Max's voice had such sudden bitter conviction that the Doctor found himself looking up at him again, feeling the stirring of an empathetic righteous anger. "Our enemies know everything, remember everything, and we keep running because we barely know what happened in the first place, let alone how to defeat them."
The Doctor swallowed, his mind blurring his view of Max with his memory of Jack during a similar and similarly passionate discussion. His offer still held. "I can help with that, or … I can try."
Max's tone skittered into something more wary, though curious. "What do you mean?"
The Doctor looked away for a moment as he fought his mind for the right phrasing. "I can connect to far more things than most beings can. My race had mastered time and space and I feel every shift and ripple in it, every screech of wrong and every harmony of right." His eyes settled on Max intently now. "So, after nine centuries, I've gained more skills than most can even imagine."
Lips parted in a kind of awe, Max exhaled nearly slow enough to whistle. "How would you do it, though?"
"It's just about connecting physically, then mentally, and following you deeper into your own mind." He stepped away from the console, closer to Max, offering hands poised for contact. "It doesn't hurt. I can show you."
"I dunno." Max's breath began to speed and the Doctor almost held his own breath, unsure of what answer he wanted to hear.
"I'm not trying to pressure you, but if you want my help, I'm here."
Max blinked down at the Doctor's hands twice before slowly shaking his head and taking a step back. "Thanks, but … not tonight. … I should probably try sleeping again anyway. Gotta work on a plan tomorrow."
"Right." The Doctor nodded, nodded and understood and hid a twinge of something painfully familiar from showing on his face as Max turned and walked away.
When the shuffling finally receded at the end of the hallway, the Doctor went back to his solitary routine, tuning the widgets and gears in the heart of his rather homeless home.
One - Two - Three - Four - Five
Author: eboniorchid
Full Header for the Series
Chapter Three: Into the Mind
Hours later, shuffling sounds emerged from the hallway in the form of one dark-haired male, sporting boxers and a plain t-shirt. The Doctor only acknowledged him when he finally decided to speak.
"Do you ever need sleep?"
"Sometimes." He looked up briefly from the second cycle of his maintenance routine. "But not usually, no."
"Are you a hybrid too?"
"No. We are naturally humanoid in form. Externally anyway."
"Oh." Max nodded, moving a little closer as the Doctor continued his routine. "Sometimes, I wonder about my other form - how much sleep I used to need, whether I had dreams like I do now. … Do you dream?"
It was an odd question, but the Doctor realized that he was probably one of only a few aliens that the boy had ever met and maybe the only non-Antarian he'd been able to have a conversation with. Smiling kindly, he put his work on a lengthier pause and addressed Max more fully. "I dream all the time. We're fairly complex in terms of shutting down parts of our minds for recharging without actually shutting the whole system down."
"Interesting. … And you're from where again?" Max's innocence was real, but there was still a keenly cutting curiosity below the surface.
The Doctor smiled even wider, eyes brightening to take on a twinkle of TARDIS light. "Practically everywhere."
Max's lips tilted into a sort of smile, but his eyes seemed to darken with knowledge beyond his years as his voice flowed out, soft and low. "You can't go home either."
It wasn't a question, so he didn't have to answer it. He just pursed his lips, gaze dropping as he went back to his busywork. "The TARDIS is home enough for me."
Max was quiet for a while then, but then he moved closer again, still appropriately distanced but too close to be ignored. "You must miss it sometimes, though. I barely remember Antar and I miss it. That's most of what I dream about."
The Doctor watched his fingers move deftly over the console's peaks and grooves. "Did you have to leave when you were young?" The stats were good and the maintenance was nearly mindless, so he could afford a little small talk, right?
"I- …" Max took in a long breath. "It's complicated." He struggled in his search for words. "I should remember more, or- … I want to remember more- … I need to … but I can't."
The Doctor nodded, understanding, though a part of him was almost envious of that ability, the ability not to forget a birthday but to forget a war, forget trauma and devastation, forget blood and betrayal. "Maybe it's better that way."
"It's not." Max's voice had such sudden bitter conviction that the Doctor found himself looking up at him again, feeling the stirring of an empathetic righteous anger. "Our enemies know everything, remember everything, and we keep running because we barely know what happened in the first place, let alone how to defeat them."
The Doctor swallowed, his mind blurring his view of Max with his memory of Jack during a similar and similarly passionate discussion. His offer still held. "I can help with that, or … I can try."
Max's tone skittered into something more wary, though curious. "What do you mean?"
The Doctor looked away for a moment as he fought his mind for the right phrasing. "I can connect to far more things than most beings can. My race had mastered time and space and I feel every shift and ripple in it, every screech of wrong and every harmony of right." His eyes settled on Max intently now. "So, after nine centuries, I've gained more skills than most can even imagine."
Lips parted in a kind of awe, Max exhaled nearly slow enough to whistle. "How would you do it, though?"
"It's just about connecting physically, then mentally, and following you deeper into your own mind." He stepped away from the console, closer to Max, offering hands poised for contact. "It doesn't hurt. I can show you."
"I dunno." Max's breath began to speed and the Doctor almost held his own breath, unsure of what answer he wanted to hear.
"I'm not trying to pressure you, but if you want my help, I'm here."
Max blinked down at the Doctor's hands twice before slowly shaking his head and taking a step back. "Thanks, but … not tonight. … I should probably try sleeping again anyway. Gotta work on a plan tomorrow."
"Right." The Doctor nodded, nodded and understood and hid a twinge of something painfully familiar from showing on his face as Max turned and walked away.
When the shuffling finally receded at the end of the hallway, the Doctor went back to his solitary routine, tuning the widgets and gears in the heart of his rather homeless home.
One - Two - Three - Four - Five