You’re still tired from pushing the trolley across all those damn zones, after everything else. The Doctor (affection/fear/worry) is attaching wires to the bits sticking out of the Memory Machine. It’s usually fun to watch him put together ridiculous machines, but this time you’re convinced he doesn’t have a clue what he’s doing. You look over at where Anji (uncertainty/positive) and the kid (slight sympathy) are laying the woman (a different echo of sympathy) down on the plush sofa between the entrances to what the Doctor had named the filing alcove and the reference room. You don’t know what it’s referring to, and you don’t want to ask.
It's still hard to get used to the TARDIS' new look. The change doesn’t make it less your home but isn’t that an unfortunate metaphor for this whole mess. There’s a lot to relearn. But how much is still there?
“Doctor…?” Anji distracts you from maudlin contemplation, and the Doctor from his spaghetti wiring.
“Yes?”
“If you get the machine working again, we could continue what the girls were doing, couldn’t we? Give you your memory back.”
The Doctor seems to be considering it, fear starts creeping up your spine. “Possibly, possibly. It depends. Did they do the initial work? Is there a copy of my memories in your head?”
“I don’t know,” Anji (why would she suggest that/she doesn’t know/worry). “I don’t think so.”
“I’m pretty sure there wasn’t time. In fact, I’m certain.” You interject, tone confident. This is not going to happen.
The kid (annoying) just has to butt in. “The princess said she was copying the memories across. And then they were talking for a bit before – you know. I think it could have happened.”
“I don’t think so!” You shout, a bit too forceful. The Doctor gives you a concerned look, familiar in all the ways that matter.
“Well, let’s not worry about it now. Plenty of time to sort it out once I’ve done this. Even if they haven’t copied my memories into Anji’s mind, I’m sure I can work something out with this marvelous machine.” He pats it fondly, so proud. He smiles at you before the look of fierce concentration takes hold of his face as he attaches it to the woman. He’s plugged into the controller’s section – where Asia had died.
You can’t drag your eyes away. What if this is the last time you see the Doctor you know? His mind had been almost destroyed once by what he’d done. What would happen this time? You can’t tell him that it’s a really bad idea to have his memories restored because then you’d have to explain why and that would be just as bad. If he’s going to remember, he has to do it naturally. He can’t take another shock.
You slip through the doors on the far side of the room, everyone else is too busy to notice. You wander the corridors, not quite sure where to go. The console room is the obvious place, the heart of the ship (home), but that’s no good at the moment, being full of people. You settle on the library instead. You’ve never really tried to talk to the ship, not directly, but it’s worth a go. Even if you feel a bit silly, standing in the middle of the library, clutching a copy of ‘The Tale of Peter Rabbit’ for emotional support. But you have to do this. The planet is gone, the Doctor survived. He did the right thing. He doesn’t have to know; you can handle that.
“I don’t know if you can hear me. But if you can, I expect you probably… well, care about him, like I do.” Friendship, love, the new protectiveness. “And you mustn’t let him use that machine. Please. Um, that’s all. Thank you.” You take in a deep breath in the calm of the corridor before stepping back into the chaos of the console room.
You seem to have missed most of the action. But the Doctor’s eyes are flickering open, and he’s sitting up. “It worked, didn’t it?” He says, smiling. “I could feel it working. Well done, old girl.” He reaches an arm up over his shoulder to pat the central console. The console spits sparks at him and he yelps and leaps up, clearly astonished.
“Something’s going wrong!” Anji cries (obviously, but someone always has to say the obvious, and the rush of fear overwhelms that momentary flash). Something’s definitely gone wrong: an electric-blue current streaking down the wires that are connecting the Doctor and Elizabethan. The Doctor yanks the connectors from his head, diving towards the unconscious woman (of course he does, he’s still who he was), but Anji gets there first and grabs a handful of wires. She’s thrown backwards with a scream, hitting her head and lying still.
You feel rooted to the spot. You wanted to stop people from being hurt, not to get anyone hurt. But then the Memory Machine explodes, and you manage to get between the Doctor and the explosion – the explosion that doesn’t hit as it should just as you land on top of the Doctor.
The Doctor (safe/alive/without that shattered look in his eyes) beams at you. “The TARDIS! She’s contained it! The clever old thing.” He looks ruefully at the imploded shell of the machine. “Doesn’t look like I’ll be able to use that again, though.”
“Oh,” you say, unable to offer any insincere sympathy. You pat the floor of the ship. She did what she had to, just like you.
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timeasmymeasure
For Misty, cn messing with memories
Date: 2023-04-22 02:26 am (UTC)It's still hard to get used to the TARDIS' new look. The change doesn’t make it less your home but isn’t that an unfortunate metaphor for this whole mess. There’s a lot to relearn. But how much is still there?
“Doctor…?” Anji distracts you from maudlin contemplation, and the Doctor from his spaghetti wiring.
“Yes?”
“If you get the machine working again, we could continue what the girls were doing, couldn’t we? Give you your memory back.”
The Doctor seems to be considering it, fear starts creeping up your spine. “Possibly, possibly. It depends. Did they do the initial work? Is there a copy of my memories in your head?”
“I don’t know,” Anji (why would she suggest that/she doesn’t know/worry). “I don’t think so.”
“I’m pretty sure there wasn’t time. In fact, I’m certain.” You interject, tone confident. This is not going to happen.
The kid (annoying) just has to butt in. “The princess said she was copying the memories across. And then they were talking for a bit before – you know. I think it could have happened.”
“I don’t think so!” You shout, a bit too forceful. The Doctor gives you a concerned look, familiar in all the ways that matter.
“Well, let’s not worry about it now. Plenty of time to sort it out once I’ve done this. Even if they haven’t copied my memories into Anji’s mind, I’m sure I can work something out with this marvelous machine.” He pats it fondly, so proud. He smiles at you before the look of fierce concentration takes hold of his face as he attaches it to the woman. He’s plugged into the controller’s section – where Asia had died.
You can’t drag your eyes away. What if this is the last time you see the Doctor you know? His mind had been almost destroyed once by what he’d done. What would happen this time? You can’t tell him that it’s a really bad idea to have his memories restored because then you’d have to explain why and that would be just as bad. If he’s going to remember, he has to do it naturally. He can’t take another shock.
You slip through the doors on the far side of the room, everyone else is too busy to notice. You wander the corridors, not quite sure where to go. The console room is the obvious place, the heart of the ship (home), but that’s no good at the moment, being full of people. You settle on the library instead. You’ve never really tried to talk to the ship, not directly, but it’s worth a go. Even if you feel a bit silly, standing in the middle of the library, clutching a copy of ‘The Tale of Peter Rabbit’ for emotional support. But you have to do this. The planet is gone, the Doctor survived. He did the right thing. He doesn’t have to know; you can handle that.
“I don’t know if you can hear me. But if you can, I expect you probably… well, care about him, like I do.” Friendship, love, the new protectiveness. “And you mustn’t let him use that machine. Please. Um, that’s all. Thank you.” You take in a deep breath in the calm of the corridor before stepping back into the chaos of the console room.
You seem to have missed most of the action. But the Doctor’s eyes are flickering open, and he’s sitting up. “It worked, didn’t it?” He says, smiling. “I could feel it working. Well done, old girl.” He reaches an arm up over his shoulder to pat the central console. The console spits sparks at him and he yelps and leaps up, clearly astonished.
“Something’s going wrong!” Anji cries (obviously, but someone always has to say the obvious, and the rush of fear overwhelms that momentary flash). Something’s definitely gone wrong: an electric-blue current streaking down the wires that are connecting the Doctor and Elizabethan. The Doctor yanks the connectors from his head, diving towards the unconscious woman (of course he does, he’s still who he was), but Anji gets there first and grabs a handful of wires. She’s thrown backwards with a scream, hitting her head and lying still.
You feel rooted to the spot. You wanted to stop people from being hurt, not to get anyone hurt. But then the Memory Machine explodes, and you manage to get between the Doctor and the explosion – the explosion that doesn’t hit as it should just as you land on top of the Doctor.
The Doctor (safe/alive/without that shattered look in his eyes) beams at you. “The TARDIS! She’s contained it! The clever old thing.” He looks ruefully at the imploded shell of the machine. “Doesn’t look like I’ll be able to use that again, though.”
“Oh,” you say, unable to offer any insincere sympathy. You pat the floor of the ship. She did what she had to, just like you.