"Are you sure?"
"Yes, positive."
"But you were—"
"I'm fine. Really."
The Doctor looks at me skeptically but nods. I follow him as he moves to stand beside the console. In the Scanner, I see Heaven Street for the last time. I doubt the Ralphs' neighbors will ever know what truly became of them, whether the family is dead, alive, moved away, or simply disappeared. Maybe we won't either. I guess it's better that way.
"How's your head?" I ask, gesturing at the bluish-purplish bruise just above his right eyebrow.
He shrugs. "Thick, as usual. No worse off after my fall."
A real laugh tumbles from my lips, and he smiles at me. "Where are we off to?" I inquire, attempting to seem as cheery as possible.
The Doctor taps the console, then his temple. "Not telling," he replies. "It's a surprise, and if I tell you, that's not much of a surprise, is it?"
I roll my eyes but smile anyway. As he begins the usual process of button-pushing and lever-pulling, my legs start to feel slightly weak beneath me. I use the nearby railing to support myself, staring at my feet curiously. When was the last time I ate? The fact that I can't remember is probably not a good sign. I also don't recall when I last slept. Inwardly I wonder how it's possible that I've been running on fumes for so long. "I think I'm going to lie down for a bit," I tell the Doctor.
He turns to look at me, concern flashing in his eyes, before smiling and nodding. "I'll come get you when we've landed," he says.
I start toward the ramp and stairs, climbing them with care. A feeling never truly hits until you acknowledge its presence, and I suppose exhaustion is no different. As I walk down the endless hallway and forcefully remind my brain to put one foot after another, I think. Is there anywhere to sleep in the TARDIS? I never thought to ask. Passing dozens of doors and branching halls, I wonder where I'm going. My feet seem to know. They lead me down an adjacent hall, another one after that, and then a third. After what feels like ages, I come to a wobbly stop in front of a door whose black color is so stark and vivid that it almost appears animated. In my sleep-deprived state it looks all the more trippy. I touch it just to make sure it's really there, and when I've established this, I grasp the knob and push the door open.
A vast room unfolds before me, and the first detail I notice is the wallpaper: it seems to be made of actual stars. It ripples and flows in the same way a clear midnight sky might as it is reflected on the surface of a lake. Next I notice the floor, which is covered, corner-to-corner, in the softest bright white carpet. The fibers curl around the curve of my boots. Up on a small platform at the other end of the room is a planetary model that looks extremely complex; it takes up probably twelve square feet and depicts planets I've never seen before. Pressed against the wall to my right is a trio of side-by-side desks laden down with various books and papers with a few metal contraptions strewn here and there. It's a very organized mess. Sticky notes adhere to the wall above the desks and to their drawers. From this distance, I can't make out what they say. On my left is a huge full-moon-shaped bed, its fluffy comforter a deep gray.
I stumble towards it, zombie-like, and only barely register my own face smiling up at me from a picture frame sitting on the bedside table.
Kicking off my boots, I collapse to the bed. Sleep overtakes me within the minute.
YOU ARE READING
The Time of Change
FanfictionThere are some people who seem destined for greatness. There are others who seem stuck on the path of failure. For most of her life, Annalise Song felt as if she was the unhappy median between the two: bound to be nothing more than mediocre and soli...