The Time of Change

The Timelords

It's as if I can hear everything above us shifting, listening, moving to the sound of a message, the message, one meant for me. "A question only I can answer," I continue. My words come in a flurry and I know she won't understand, she couldn't possibly understand. "A truth field to make sure I'm not lying. If I give my name, they'll know they've found the right place and that it's safe to come through." Adrenaline courses through my veins, alights my blood and sets it on fire. Turns it to molten lava. Inextinguishable, unbearable, incomparable. And my mind spins and the world spirals in front of my eyes and I realize I'm standing. At some point I stood up and my hand is shaking, pointed at the crack like it's my worst enemy, something accusing me. And it is.

"The Timelords?" Clara whispers. I drop my hand, putting it inside the other one and squishing my palms together. Wordlessly I nod my head once, a very slight movement, but she sees it. "Okay, so what then?" she goes on, imploring me, taking a step closer to me. I tense. "If you answer the question and they come back, what happens then?"

Her words swim in front of my eyes like I can see them forming instead of hearing them in my head. They twist into shapes I can't identify and blur into colors I've never seen and it should be beautiful but it's anything but beautiful. It's terrifying. I don't want to see it, don't want to know what the colors are or what the shapes could be, so I hold my breath and try not to feel how heavy the air is. I try not to notice how it's pressing in on me from all sides, squeezing the life out of me, draining me, keeping me stationary. Something cold touches my leg and I don't look down but I feel it. I feel what's there and suddenly it's awfully clear what I have to do. And I am not afraid.

I take a step toward Clara and push a small cylinder into her hand. It's cold and looks a bit like a car charger, and I don't even want to look at it, much less feel it against my skin. I hand it to her and she looks at me. "You need to take this to the TARDIS and put it in the charger slot for the sonic," I tell her. And I turn away and have to force my legs not to start pacing.

"Why?"

"Hell," I reply shortly, whipping back to face her. "All hell, that's what happens if the Timelords come back. There's half a universe up there already, waiting to open fire. Now please," I beg, and I grab her free hand. Her quivering eyes meet mine and I shrink a little. "Go to the TARDIS and just do as I say." She nods once, and turns and runs from the room. I sigh, taking off my top hat and running a hand through my hair -- well, my wig.

Is now really the time to find anything amusing?

Shut up. What else have I got?

You've got to think.

That's not what I meant, I'm sure.

That's what I mean. Think, Doctor. How are you going to get out of this?

Do you know nothing? I'm not.