TARDIS-less, First Part

Hello! I’m back! Haha.

Anyway, this is a new story I made about the Doctor (no number, but it’s pretty much Eleventh or some future version) and a new companion. And here’s the twist. How would the Doctor deal with a companion who’s not only intelligent, but can see the future? I hope you’ll enjoy this gift of mine! This is just the beginning.

***

There it was again. The silence brought by the plugs. After listening to one song. That mere second of silence before a new song plays. The fading away of melody and the beginning of a rising music. Like sunset and sunrise. The credits and the title sequence.

I was on the bus. Heading home. After two years spending my time away in the hustle and bustle of a city that sleeps once dawn breaks. A city of cold bliss. Crystalline. Just a few minutes of travel through a tunnel of pined caves. In that lonely second, I’ve witnessed multitude of sceneries. And just sitting by the bus window. Blurred lines, blurred faces, blurred colors. All meshed like an abstract creation.

Then that thought hit me.

I was heading home.

“Penny for your thoughts,” he said, pulling an earphone from my right ear.

And in just one second, my concentration was rippled like calm water.

Seconds. What’s so important with them?

“Sorry,” I told him.

“Nervous?”

Why would I be? I thought. But, as usual, he was right. He was always right.

“I guess. It’s been so long.” I looked out the window again. I saw a cat chasing away a dog. I blinked deliberately for a couple of seconds to see if I wasn’t hallucinating. There they were. I laughed.

“What?”

“You should have seen that.”

He looked out the window, trying to glimpse the queer scene already far of distance. He sat back and I knew, by the look of his face, that he saw how far-fetched it was.

“Was that?”

We both laughed.

There it was again. The silence. This time after a few short musings between friends. Between companions. Breaths fixed in time. The calm before the storm.

“What would you tell them?”

“The truth?” I said. “I don’t know.”

“Well, the truth is relative.”

I smiled. “I thought you believe that truth is absolute.”

“Not if you can change the world. Even that is relative. You’ve seen the future.”

“Only for a second.”

“And a second builds minutes, builds hours, builds lifetimes! See how important that is?”

That’s the importance of seconds. Tick tock, the clock says, I thought.

“So what should I tell them?” I looked out the window again, and something flashed in front of my eyes.

“Farewell.”

Even I couldn’t do that. Running away was never my option. But what was the point, I thought. I asked myself why I was even going back. Why I bothered to head home.

And as if on cue, he answered me. “We’re always running back home, and always to say good bye. Don’t you think?”

“What do you mean?”

He smiled that wicked and wizened smile. “Haven’t you figured that out yet? That’s what we’ve always done all our lives. We leave our homes. Get a life. Get tired of it. Go back. Say farewell for another life. It’s a cycle.”

“No, it isn’t. Not until you die.”

“But death is also another life. A different life, but still the way back home.” He winked.

“You always have the answers.”

Silence. I did see the future. It was terrible. And at a cost to protect those I love, I had to do this very dangerous thing.

“Doctor, what’s the point of saving the future? I mean, my family’s still living safe here. They won’t be affected.”

“It’s always the children,” he whispered.

For one final time, I looked out the window again, past the blurring images, and into the era of fear and terror. A planet burning in the distance. The blue skies replaced by sulfur smokes. Darkness loomed. Capital cities destroyed. Earth was no more. “EXTERMINATE! EX—

I blinked. And the future was gone. The bus had stopped. I stood up and beckoned the Doctor. We’ve finally arrived.

As we stepped down the bus and stared at the large house standing at a distance, I couldn’t help but feel silent. Serene. Peaceful. As I kept on telling myself, the calm before the storm. And telling the whole town of Mist about what would transpire in the next three days would be a hell of a storm.

***

To be continued.

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~ by bipolarthespian13 on January 6, 2014.

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