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Summary: The Doctor walks through his garden.
Quick note: Please read and review. It is an expanded idea I had written on my tumblr. sheshipie . tumblr . com. Excuse any error.
The Doctor's Garden
It was a quiet evening in the Tardis. Her soft hum lulled the doctor into a pensive mood. He could feel her wrap a comforting warmth around him as his mood darkened. Each of his past companions flashed through his mind. Each of them had been hurt by him, so much so, that a measly, broken "I'm sorry" felt inadequate and shallow.
With Amy and Rory taken away by the Weeping Angel he had felt their absence sorely. He frowned at his inability to save his friends. The Oncoming Storm, The Destroyer of Worlds, Warrior all of these aliases seemed to closer to his real nature. Everywhere he went followed pain and destruction. He felt inspired and went to a long since abandoned garden that his previous incarnation created as a place of remembrance and meditation.
He entered the room and immediately smirked. The Tardis had tended his garden. His small, wonderful garden blooming with all kind of plant life. The larger garden was comprised of smaller gardens each dedicated to his companions. The largest, most well-tended was the rose garden. A small pleasant sigh escaped his mouth and a near imperceptible shake of the head. Rose Tyler, the girl he had fallen deeply in love with. In a moment where he was in his darkest, she was a bright light. A beacon saving a wayward ship.
The roses were neatly lined up in various colors. Each color specifically chosen for its meaning. "Touch of the Victorian, eh old chap?" the Doctor muttered softly, remembering when he had met Queen Victoria and those rather smelly, hairy, quite rude, murderous werewolves.
It was a secluded garden. It was meant to be secluded. Had any his companions after Rose stumble into the garden, the walled off garden would have deterred them from entering. That had been the tenth's intent but knowing the inquisitiveness and curiosity, a natural and necessary trait that drives them to explore time and space, of his companions would not have been able to stay away. The white-washed wood fence had an ivy and roses woven through thick and lush.
He entered through the rose-covered trellis and decided to be spontaneous and remove his shoes and socks. "Imagine that," the 11th said with a smile and a quick fluttering of his hands, "a doctor who is walking barefoot." He turned to empty space, "Ah right, Amy and Rory currently living their lives years ago while I'm here alone."
"All right then," the 11th said more loudly as if to fill the room as if urged on by the spirits of companions past, "time to forge onward."
The pattern of the rose garden was that the various colors of the roses were segmented by a lush green carpet. The grass felt cool as if recently watered but not so recently that it was damp. Each section of roses spherically wrapped around a large gazebo. In between was a green pathway allowing the Doctor to tend and care for the roses if he so chose.
The first line of roses were bright orange roses. The 11th smiled as Rose was indeed a new beginning and an enthusiasm that had saved him from the brink. Then came the yellow roses, the friendship, that bloomed as they went on their many adventures. The cerise roses came next. The appreciation and gratitude that had been there since the beginning that had only increased in its importance, and profundity. A level of profundity that had even shocked the Doctor himself then came the red roses. The moment that the Doctor had fallen for Rose. It was more than a physical, romantic love. It was deeper than that. He had found himself utterly loyal to Rose. So much so that he had done what he could to find Rose her happy ending even if it meant walking away. He recalled that lovely musical tune, Do It For You, by Rebecca Turner that captured the love he held for Rose. In the middle held the lovely gazebo. It was covered in sweetheart roses and hybrid tea roses. Rose was a sweetheart that he would never forget.
He sat in the gazebo as it played a hologram image of Rose and their adventures together. Every laugh, every smile with that cheeky little tongue, every "Doctor" and everything that made Rose, Rose played in front of him. It felt as it were a forever ago. The Doctor had gotten lost in his memories.
A gently whoosh of warm air from his Tardis reminded him to move onto his other gardens. He walked out of the rose garden into Martha's garden. It was smaller but it was as meaningful as the rose garden. If only he had given her the care and attention she had deserved. That was quite the knife's edge he walked on. Teetering on pining for Rose and ignoring Martha's intelligence once too often and wearily trying to avoid the affection of a companion that would have undoubtedly ended in heartbreak.
The bench was surrounded by cyclamen flowers. It was his way of coming to terms of how he had treated Martha and admitting his part. These flowers captured the fact that Martha had in the end felt resigned over her unrequited crush of the Doctor and submitted herself to the reality of it remaining unrequited. It led to her saying her goodbyes which was a sign of her strength that the Doctor had realized too late. The flowers were contained by a small, light pink brick wall.
Behind them were a mixture of different flowers. The daffodil flowers in which he was finally forced to recognize Martha's unrequited love. The nasturtium to mark the year that Martha had gone to carry out the Doctor's plan with dedication and incredible success. Lastly the sweetpea to mark their goodbyes as traveling companions. Thankfully it was not the last of Martha but that guilt would always burden his hearts. The flower garden was encased in numerous cherry trees that provided a rich canopy of branches that would blossom soon raining fragrant, soft pink petals. It was in honor of her education and with that her dedication and intelligence.
It had been time to move forward. Possibly to a part of the garden that made him regret his life more than ever since the end of the Time War. This was a garden that had been as detailed as Rose's garden for different reasons. This lush garden that grew around the large lotus pond.
He sat down on the bench to observe the flowers that surrounded him and the pond. The amaryllis that spoke of his pride. She had grown so much and brought with her an intelligence that only a human could. A term she would have no doubt been familiar with: transferrable skills. She had used her skills and experience to help bring to light information that he and others had missed. Information he had missed! The doctor let out a loud chuckle. The Doctor, a time lord, with such an expansive consciousness and intelligence and this temp from Cheswick had outdone him, more than once no less!
The geraniums and irises also made him smile, a true and cherished friend. She had become his best friend. A lovely reprieve from love and crushes and a hilarious if not flustering confusion of what he had been looking for with her yelling back that she was not going to mate with him.
He looked onto the still lotus pond. His mouth turning into a thin line. Lotuses, forgetfulness of the past, and that had been her fate. Made to forget her glorious journey. Made to forget everything she had done. Made to forget the wisdom, comfort and intelligence. Made to forget him.
The still water so indicative of everything she was about. She had believed herself weak and yet never realizing the wisdom, and depth that laid deeply in her soul. The wisdom and depth that had taken a beating by her lack of self-esteem and her mother's daily criticisms.
The most important woman in the universe. Whose sky that he traveled in, whose many planets and galaxies were now safe. The people living in the light singing songs of this incredible woman. All because of one incredible, cheeky ginger.
His best friend, Donna Noble.
He sat there what felt like an eternity. He looked around and decided that it was time to create a space for Amy and Rory. His glorious companions: the man who waited 2000 years and the girl who waited and believed in him when it felt like a childhood dream. For River, he would course a river through his garden. A River Runs Through It, the 11th smiled remembering the movie that he had seen in Delta Six on the planet of Arida in the new millennium. The five thousandth millennium to be exact when there had been an exhibit of ancient human artifacts.
He stood up suddenly and as he was about to turn he quickly grabbed a geranium. He twirled it around his fingers. Surveying the landscape further he decided that he would dedicated spaces for all of his companions: Sarah Jane, Leela, Peri and even the lovely, metal dog K-9. He gingerly placed the geranium into his breast pocket. He vocally wondered if he ought to wear a geranium boutonnière or a geranium-embroidered handkerchief.
"Why not?" The Doctor mused settling on the handkerchief, "Handkerchiefs are cool."
