Prompt 9/15 – 10 years
Title: Refuelling the Rolls Royce
Characters: 10th Doctor, Mickey, the Tardis
Spoilers: The episode “The Rise of the Cyberman,” as that is where and when it is set. The dialogue is from the episode, the thoughts in 10’s brain is mind.
“Mickey, we have power!”
There is a stupid, manic, demented grin on my face, and I can’t help it. My Tardis, my wonderful, old, ramshackle, held together Tardis has come through again, my old girl. Oh yes, she’s magnificent and brilliant, and was just waiting for me to find that one little power cell. She knew that I would find it, well, maybe not right away, but still, I would find it and know it would get us home.
She’s always looking after me that way.
I pry the miles of cable and tubing out of the way, tubes that haven’t had anything running through them for years, meant to tidy that up, (sorry, old girl), as I tell Mickey just what it is that I diving inside the innards of my Tardis to find.
“It’s nothing, it’s tiny, it’s one of those insignificant little power cells that no one ever bothers about, and it’s clinging onto life! That one little ounce of reality tucked away inside.”
Oh, my beautiful, stubborn girl, you wonderfully opinionated Tardis, you wouldn’t let me get rid of this years ago, did you know then that you would need it? Did the Time Vortex whisper through your circuits, telling you of a time when you would be materializing half on death’s doorstep, half aware and barely in my mind? That silence was killing me, you know that, don’t you… ah, I can hear your whisper, your murmured apologies, and your cries for power. Can’t say no to you, now can I, you beautiful thing.
“Not yet, I need to charge it up”
Oh, Mickey, you should know better than to think about the Tardis like it’s an old car. Although, my fault, really, I was the one to use the fuel idea, planted it right there in your head. My Tardis, gloriously wonderful, is nothing like a Chevie.
Well, maybe you’re the Rolls Royce of space travel these days. Those are custom built. I should know, I have three of them.
“But we don’t have anything.”
As I gather the atron radiation around in my body, I still the urge to let it build and build and destroy this pretty new face. I’ve only had it a year, on about, I’d like to keep it, thanks. I focus, settle it deep into my lungs, building until I can feel the wisps of power tickling my bronchioles. One last deep breath, and I let it all slip through my lips and my perception –
… arms around my shoulders, holding me back from an edge so I turn to the library entrance, the books stretch on for miles that we run and run and know that the Tardis is waiting and the doors swing open with a snap of my fish fingers used to taste so good and now they don’t and that’s not fair grounds are her favourite place to go so I was a good boy, wasn’t I, and took her there to relax and enjoy the time lapse rips through the space in front of me and there are arms …
Mickey is worried, isn’t he, old girl, as he splits into two or three in my sight, just for a second, as the energy leaves my mouth and leaves me grinning like a fool, and I don’t care. I can hear you again clearly in my mind, although the mental image is of a tired little girl all curled with her teddy bear and stuffed platypus trying to hide under the blankets, you give me a little hug and a whispered thanks before powering down for now.
“I just gave away ten years of my life. Worth every second!”