POLLUX • Doctor Who

Chapter Three, a saddened man.

Chapter Three, answers and questions.
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"Because I know what it's like to be the last of your kind.." the Doctor whispered softly into my ear, making sure I was well balanced before standing up. "Right, Amy. You need to sleep. Shoo, off you go." He waved his hand towards the red haired girl before making his way to the controls of the TARDIS.

"But-" she was cut off before she had the chance to complain.

"Shush, I said go." His fingers travelled over buttons and levers, the two us watching him. One was confused and frightened, the other tired and frustrated.

"Fine.."

As Amy left the control room, wandering off to god knows where, and The Doctor's attention was completely sucked up by the controls, I stood up and started to look around. The glowing lights were bright enough to make a mark in your eyes, but weak enough not to blind you. It was an intergalactic feeling. Mysterious and inviting.

I made my way to the other side of the circular control panel, the tips of my fingers gently brushing against the screen of a monitor.

"I'd be careful if I were you, easy to get zapped." The Doctor spoke up, his eyes still stuck on the panel in front of him.

"What fun is life without a bit of danger?" I said smugly, slowly walking my way to the side he stood at. "So. What does this do?" I reached forward, about to press a button, but got stopped by his hand wrapped around my arm.

"Something you don't want to find out." His expression quickly changed from worried and frustrated to the same mask of childish excitement I had seen before. "Now, Amy wants to go to a museum. We're going to a museum."

"A museum? Why a museum?" I questioned. He could go anywhere in time and space, but he's going to a museum.

"Not just a museum, it's the home of the most famous paintings in the world.

"Musée d'Orsay.." I had wanted to see those paintings for so long, a memory undiscovered. But it wasn't my memory. It was my brain's memory, but it wasn't mine. It was the lie that I had grown up with for the years I've travelled in this body. "Vincent Van Gogh.. oh I love his artwork!"

The Doctor looked upon me with an unreadable expression. It could either have been surprise, excitement, or complete fear. I probably looked the same way, unreadable and mysterious, as we stood in silence for multiple minutes. It was like the air was full of words that our skin fought to absorb. We both knew what to say, but none of us could bring the words to our lips. An unspoken truth.

"Your planet.." The Doctor finally broke the silence, turning away from me and back to the control panel. "It was blown up. Annihilated, absolutely destroyed. How are you alive? It's you.. but it's also not. I can see it in your eyes. You are from Pollux, your eyes have whole galaxies captured in them." He paused for a second, his fingers lingering over the metal plate. "But you're human. You are so painfully trapped in a body that isn't yours, Ophelia." My name was spoken like it was forbidden, illegal. Like it could drain the life of the whole universe. So gentle and dangerous.

"I don't know, Doctor. I honestly can't grasp it myself. It's like my brain is exploding with things I shouldn't know."

"A host.." he trailed, turning to look at me.