Fire and Ice

Doctor Who

I don't know if Steven Moffat has ever read a Doctor Who or Sherlock fanfiction but even if he doesn't this one is dedicated to him!! Thanks for all the amazing (and very heartbreaking) episodes you have written for us. 

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Chapter 16: Doctor Who

I strode out of John’s room to the main room where the TARDIS was waiting. I really could’ve used a hairbrush and some clean clothes. A shower too, if the TARDIS has one. I’d slept well, and Rory was still asleep.

I walked in to see Sam laying on the floor in a sleeping bag, Sherlock was on the sofa and the TARDIS was right where we’d left it. What did I miss this time? I crept around Sam, making my best effort not to step on him. And quietly pushed into the TARDIS.

Inside, the Doctor was sitting on the floor with wires surrounding him.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“Trying to fix the projector,” he said absent-mindedly.

“I thought it was better than it ever has been.”

“It is, but I want it to project more than just one person,” he explained while sonicing two wires together.

“Oh, and what is going on with Sam? Why is he on the floor?”

The Doctor simply tossed me a journal. It was the one the Sam had been carrying with him yesterday.

I opened it up and was about to flick through the pages when the Doctor said, “Don’t read it. I promised him no one would.”

“Well what happened?” I asked.

“It’s alive,” the Doctor said. “It created a psychic link with Sam and was feeding off his thoughts, which is why he couldn’t let go of it yesterday. Last night he came here because it was forcing the thoughts and ideas out of his brain and onto the paper. It was hurting him.”

“How did you fix it?”

“We let him write until he had nothing left,” he explained. “The problem now is I can’t figure out why it wanted Sam’s thoughts. It’s simply a book, why does it need him? And why him?”

“What are the possibilities?”

“No idea.”

“That’s just great.”

“No it’s not. When I don’t know, that’s not a good thing.”

“No, Doctor. That was sarcasm.”

“Oh. Haha very funny,” The Doctor guessed. I smiled at his effort.

“Do you have any clean clothes? I’ve been in these for days,” I asked.

“Just over there now,” The Doctor said, pointing to a hallway down the left. “Stupid thing keep changing.”

“Thanks,” I said and skipped down the hall to the room where all mine and Rory’s clothes were stored. I chose my big red sweater, which I hadn’t worn in a while, and my black shorts. Then I strode back out to the Doctor feeling clean again.

“Any idea what time it is?” I asked when I came out to see the Doctor still sitting on the floor playing with the wires.

He checked his watch, “Nearly 10.”

“Alright, I’m going to check on everyone,” I said as I bounced over to the door. He said nothing. I came out of the TARDIS to see Sam curled up on the floor flicking through channels on the TV. Sherlock was no where in sight.