Jasmin watched The Doctor lying there asleep on a big
beach towel under a huge umbrella he had found in one of those mysterious
rooms full of junk the TARDIS had. He looked different from usual. He
was, like the rest of them, wearing swimming gear. In his case a rather
outlandish pair of baggy trunks that came down to his knees. They had
made everyone laugh when he emerged from the wardrobe in them but somehow
they DID seem to suit him.
Alec was asleep, too. Wyn had gone to look for an ice cream vendor. Jasmin
had been reading a book but had given up because after the months she
had spent travelling with The Doctor nothing fictional ever really measured
up any more. She sat and looked at him - the man who had first saved her
life and then changed it in ways she could not have imagined in her ‘ordinary’
life that he took her from.
What sort of dreams did a thousand year old man have? Jasmin considered
that question as she watched the rapid eye movements that showed he was
in that part of the sleep cycle where dreams occurred. She hoped they
were happy dreams. He deserved that. But if even half the stories she
had heard about him were true then it was possible they were not.
She moved closer and watched him as he slept. He didn’t LOOK as
if he was having sweet dreams. His face was contorted and troubled and
his breathing was strange. She reached out tentatively and put her hand
over his left heart. It was beating madly as if he was running. So was
the other one.
“Hey,” she whispered, brushing her hand against his cheek.
“What could frighten YOU so much as that? It’s all right,
Doctor. You’re safe. You’re safe here with us. Among friends.”
But he didn’t respond. Wherever his mind had taken him he was unaware
of the warm sunshine and the kind thoughts of friends. He was aware of
only one emotion.
Fear.
Whatever he was dreaming about was very frightening. Jasmin thought of
some of her nightmares that made her wake up shivering. The worst was
one where, for reasons she wasn’t entirely clear about, she had
to go into a long corridor and get to the other end. There was something
horrible about the corridor. She could never remember WHAT the horrible
thing was, just that it was something that made her feel awful and she
had no choice but to go through it. She knew that safety lay at the other
end of the corridor, but it seemed so far away and the creeping horrors
she had to endure first were almost unbearable.
She usually woke up before she reached the safety. She could never remember
afterwards why the corridor was so frightening or why she had to walk
down it, but it was a horrible nightmare that left her feeling vulnerable
afterwards.
The Doctor didn’t seem to be reaching his safe place, either. His
hearts were still racing and his breath came in short gasps. His skin
was clammy to the touch despite the warmth of the day. His lips moved
as if trying to speak but no words came out.
The Doctor had a lot of things to have nightmares about. He’d been
through a lot in his life. He had defeated all kinds of monsters, not
just the imaginary ones of bad dreams, but real, living nightmares. He’d
faced death many, many times. He HAD died nine times from what Wyn had
explained about how Time Lords regenerate. The memories of those deaths
must be a source of grief to him.
Dying nine times. Jasmin looked at The Doctor’s gentle, handsome
features and wondered how he ever coped with that. The religion she was
raised in didn’t hold bodily reincarnation as one of its tenets.
The Doctor in many ways was a living embodiment of something utterly outside
the framework of her beliefs. She wasn’t even sure if she could
explain him to her more traditional relatives.
What her religion did promise for those who lived right, who walked in
the light, and especially those who fought against the sort of evil The
Doctor fought all his life, was an eternal paradise where the warrior
was rewarded for his selfless life and his sacrifice for the sake of others.
The Doctor had earned his right to that paradise many times over and was
still struggling against the forces of evil, still trying to do right
in a universe of wrong. It was as if Heaven rejected him and made him
go on struggling. His soul was still a long way from paradise. That seemed
wrong to her.
It was certainly enough to give anyone nightmares.
“You WILL have your place in Paradise one day, Doctor,” she
whispered. “Nobody could deny you. But for now, come on back to
us.”
Suddenly his eyes opened and he sat up straight. He didn’t seem
to see Jasmin kneeling beside him. His eyes were glassy and unseeing still.
Then he blinked and looked around at the sun-drenched beach and then,
finally, focussed on her.
“Where are we?” he asked. “How did we get here?”
“By TARDIS,” she replied. “We were supposed to go somewhere
else but I accidentally nudged something on the navigation panel and we
wound up in the Seychelles. And you decided it wouldn’t hurt to
have an afternoon in the sun.”
“Right….” He looked at her as if he was only slowly
remembering. “My throat feels dry. Is there anything to drink?”
Jasmin reached into the cool box they had brought to the beach and found
a can of coke. She gave it to him and was surprised to see his hands shaking
so much he couldn’t hold the can, let alone pull back the ring pull.
She took it and opened it and gave it back to him. He took a long drink
and finally composed himself.
“I’m… ok,” he said. “Sorry to scare you
that way. Don’t… don’t mention this. Alec would worry
and Wyn…. She thinks I’m invincible. If she knew I got the
heeby-jeebies just from dreaming it would destroy her faith in me.”
“I won’t tell. But what WAS wrong? What did you dream?”
He looked on the point of telling her. But then they heard Wyn calling
to them. She was trying to carry four large ice creams that were rapidly
melting in the sun. Jasmin looked at her and then back at The Doctor but
he had locked his worries back behind his crinkling smile and almost boyish
shout as he jumped up and ran to help Wyn. The melancholy had passed.
“Chocolate mint chip with a big chocolate flake and sprinkles,”
he said when the two of them reached the shade of the umbrella. Alec woke
rather abruptly with a dollop of ice cream falling on his face but he
accepted the treat with good grace. As they sat eating the ice creams
they were a cheerful bunch of friends again, enjoying an unplanned afternoon
of complete normality in a life where they could take nothing for granted.
Except every so often The Doctor forgot to be cheerful. He looked away
into the distance and his expression was anguished.
And every so often Jasmin caught him looking that way and found a way
to distract the others until he remembered himself and came back to them.
It was the same later, when they retreated from the beach and spent the
late afternoon at a bayside bar where they watched the sun go down over
the ocean, or later still when they enjoyed supper at The Doctor’s
expense at a very exclusive restaurant. Every so often he would seem distracted.
Finally, they came back to where they had parked the TARDIS in a nicely
incongruous spot. The Doctor told everyone to go to bed and they were
tired enough not to argue. But he, himself, went to the console and began
programming in their new destination. He told them they would be there
in the morning.
“It’s amazing, isn’t it,” Alec said as the three
Humans found their bedrooms in the corridor beyond the console room. “We
go to bed on Earth and wake in the morning on some other planet and in
another time. It’s totally amazing and we take it for granted. Are
we lucky, or what?”
“We’re lucky,” Wyn agreed.
“Where is his bedroom?” Jasmin asked out of the blue.
“Whose bedroom?” Alec answered.
“HIS. The Doctor’s. I know it's daft, all the time we’ve
been here. But I’ve never seen him go to bed. Doesn’t he have
a room?”
“He must have,” Alec reasoned. “It’s HIS TARDIS.
Why wouldn’t he have a bedroom?”
“He doesn’t,” Wyn told them. “He doesn’t
sleep the way we do. So he doesn’t need one. The TARDIS creates
rooms according to need. He doesn’t need one.”
“He slept with Dominique, when we were on her planet,” Jasmin
recalled.
“Well, he did something with Dominique,” Alec replied pointedly.
“I’m not sure sleep came into it all that much. But let’s
not go there. That’s his business. So is what he does or doesn’t
do in his own TARDIS. Come on, if you girls are going to stand in the
corridor debating, I’m going to get the bathroom first for once.”
At that, Alec dashed away and slammed the bathroom door behind him. Wyn
looked at Jasmin and tried to make a trivial comment, but then stopped.
“Why are you worried about where The Doctor sleeps?” she asked.
“Who said I’m worried? I was just asking.”
“He’s not Human. You have to keep reminding yourself that.
He’s 1,000 years old and he’s brilliant and he doesn’t
do things like we do. He doesn’t need a bedroom because he doesn’t
sleep.”
“That can’t be right,” Jasmin said. “Even for
a Time Lord. He MUST sleep.”
“He’s ok. He’s a tough guy. He may look like a geek
in plimsoles and a naff suit. But underneath he’s a superhero. Only
he doesn’t need to wear bright red and blue spandex and a cape.”
Alec came back from the bathroom and Wyn took advantage of Jasmin’s
distraction to get in next. Jasmin waited her turn, wondering idly why
the TARDIS couldn’t have provided them all with en suite bathrooms,
but her central thought was still for The Doctor. She WAS worried for
him.
By Earth time it was about three a.m. Too late to be late at night, and
too early to be early morning. The Doctor was feverishly working at something
under one of the TARDIS floor panels.
“There isn’t really anything that needs doing down there,
is there,” Jasmin said as she knelt above him. He looked up in surprise
and smiled warmly.
“Course there is. I was rerouting the power conduits from the spatial
accelerator to the positive ion agitator.”
“I don’t believe the TARDIS has either of those things,”
she replied. “You’re just fiddling to pass time until we all
get up and give you something else to think about.”
“I do important maintenance to the TARDIS at night when you lot
aren’t around to distract me,” he insisted. But he knew the
game was up. He put the wires back in place and climbed out of the service
hatch. “So why aren’t you fast asleep?”
“Just woke up and couldn’t get back to sleep,” she lied.
She had, in fact, set her alarm clock to wake her because she was curious
about what The Doctor did at night if he didn’t sleep. “I
was going to make a cup of tea. Want to join me?”
“I can’t think of anything nicer to do in the middle of the
night than have a cup of tea with a charming young woman,” he replied.
She blushed and smiled. He could be so sweet when he wanted to be, even
if the flattery did have an ulterior motive of distracting her from the
real reason for her nocturnal visit to him.
A reason he knew very well. He knew she had noticed he wasn’t his
usual self today.
He reached and took her hand and walked with her to the kitchen. He sat
at the table and watched as she made the tea in a pot and found a packet
of biscuits in the cupboard. They neither of them spoke until she was
sitting at the table with him and pouring the tea. And then his comment
was purely trivial.
“Ginger nut biscuits,” he said with a grin before he crunched
one with his strong white teeth. “One of the wonderful things I
love about Earth. Along with chunky orange marmalade and honey, and mint
choc chip ice cream.”
“They didn’t have any of those things where you come from?”
she asked him.
“No,” he answered. “We had a lot of good stuff. Cúl
nuts. They’re fantastic. And pathiza berry jelly. But I just love
Earth food. Jelly babies. They’re brilliant. I used to carry a bag
of those around with me all the time. Fantastic way to break the ice when
you meet new species – offer them a sweetie.”
“Little cakes with edible ball bearings, too,” he continued.
“And TEA of course. I think if more of my people drank tea they’d
have been a lot less unbearable to live with.”
Jasmin laughed despite herself. She couldn’t help it when she looked
at him in that way, his smile splitting his face and his eyes crinkling
with humour. But she knew his joking manner hid a seriousness. When he
spoke of his people in that way he suppressed the ever present grief that
they were no more. And his chatter was just to delay the inevitable questions
she wanted to ask him.
“Doctor,” Jasmin said at last. “Why don’t you
sleep?”
“Too little to do and too much time to do it in,” he said.
“Or is that the other way around?” He tried to fend off the
question with more light-heartedness, but it wasn’t working. His
smile faded into a serious expression and he toyed with his tea cup in
the lengthening silence.
“This is about this afternoon, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” she said. “You fell asleep and you had a really
bad nightmare. And it WAS bad. I could tell. You were so freaked out by
it, I thought you were going to have a heart attack. And it’s been
haunting you all day since. I asked Wyn, and she said she doesn’t
think you DO sleep usually. You don’t HAVE a bedroom on the TARDIS.
You spend all night in the console room working when the rest of us are
asleep.”
“I like to think by myself,” he said.
“Yes, but it's not just that, is it. When WAS the last time you
slept properly?”
“When I was with Dominique,” he admitted. “In her arms,
warm, safe, I could sleep. I had no fears, no nightmares. But other times,
no, I don’t sleep. I restore my body with periods of meditative
trance. I don’t dream at all when I do that. And I only need a few
hours of it to recover my strength. But sleeping like you do… I
haven’t done that for years, for centuries.”
“But sleep is important,” Jasmin insisted. “Dreams are
important. They help the mind process all the things it sees in the day.
And surely you don’t just have nightmares? There MUST be good dreams,
too?”
“Yes, sometimes,” he said. “But mostly I have the bad
one.”
“Always? Every time you sleep – except when you’re cuddled
up to Dominique?”
“Always,” he repeated.
“And it’s always the same dream?”
“Yes.”
“But what kind of dream could scare somebody like you that much?”
“One I’ve had all my life,” he said. “As long
as I can remember. I always woke myself up from it. It frightened me so
much.”
“What is it you dream about?”
“I don’t know. When I first wake… for the first few
moments I feel as if I can remember it. But then it vanishes. All I know
is that I feel more frightened when I have that nightmare than I have
ever felt facing Daleks or any other real threat.”
“It’s worse than Daleks?”
“It must be.”
“But you don’t know what it is?”
“No.”
“And you’ve never tried to see it through, work through the
nightmare to its end? If you did, maybe it would go away. Because you’d
know it was over.”
“No. I’ve never tried to do that.” He looked away from
her, staring into the distance.
“You’re scared to try?”
“That surprises you, doesn’t it,” he said, turning back
to her.
“Yes, it does. Because you’re... you’re a hero. You’re
not scared of anything. You’re not a coward.”
“You think I’m being cowardly by not facing up to my inner
fears?”
“No,” she said. “If it was anyone else I WOULD think
that. But it's you. So I think there must be something else.”
The Doctor smiled faintly and studied her face for a long time. Jasmin
wondered what he was thinking.
“I’m thinking that I don’t deserve the faith you all
have in me. Not just you three, but all the people who have been with
me all these years. You all believe in me. And that belief is my strength.
But I don’t know if I deserve it. You none of you know how unheroic
I feel most of the time.”
“Yes, we do,” she assured him. “We all know you’re
not a god, Doctor. We know you feel afraid sometimes. That’s all
right. Because the really heroic thing is facing up to evil despite your
fears. And that’s what you do every time.”
“And it’s what I tell you all to do.”
“Yes.”
“But I won’t face my own deepest fear. I run from it. I wake
myself up rather than let the nightmare take its course.”
“And there must be some reason,” Jasmin said. “You’re
not a coward. You’re not afraid to face anything. So there MUST
be another reason.”
“No,” he told her. “There isn’t. In that one respect,
I AM a coward. I AM afraid to face my fears.” He looked at her and
smiled. “Now I HAVE shaken your faith in me.”
“No, because I think you’re just saying that. I don’t
think it’s true at all.”
“It’s true,” he insisted. “But I can see you don’t
believe me about that.”
“I don’t know why you would keep saying it if it's not true,”
she said. “So I must accept it. You DO have a weak spot. You’re
not totally invincible. You have frailties like any other man. So I’m
supposed to think any less about you? I don’t think so. You’re
still the greatest man I have ever met.” She reached out and touched
his hand as it rested on the table. “A great man who needs help
from his less great friends,” she added. “Let me help you.
Tonight. The others won’t know. You don’t have to lose face
in front of Wyn and Alec.”
“What do you have in mind?” he asked.
“You’re going to go to sleep,” she told him. “You’re
going to stay asleep until you’ve faced up to the nightmare. I’ll
watch you. I’ll be there for you. I’ll take care of you until
it’s over.”
“You’d do that for me?”
“For all you’ve done for me, for all of us, for the planet
I live on, it's a small thing I can do for you in return, Doctor. But
will you let me try?”
The Doctor looked at her keenly and his mind turned over what she had
said.
And he knew she was right.
He HAD to face this thing ONE day. He had to bite the bullet, face his
demons. He had to see this through to its logical conclusion.
“You’ll sit and watch me sleep and be there to make sure I
don’t die of fright?”
“Yes.”
“And you won’t wake me up no matter how terrified I look or
how much I scream?”
“No.”
“Ok, I suppose I’d better go to bed then,” he said.
He drained his tea cup and stood up. He was smiling in that eye crinkling
way of his, as if it was a game. But Jasmin thought he had never been
more serious in his life.
“Where are we going?” she asked as he took her hand again
and led her out of the kitchen and along the corridor.
“My bedroom,” he answered.
“I thought you didn’t have a bedroom.”
“I don’t usually. The TARDIS creates rooms according to need.
I don’t need a bedroom so I don’t have one. But right now
I need one, so it’ll be along the corridor along with the rest.”
He stopped by a door that looked exactly like any other door on the corridor
- a plain grey door in a grey frame that matched the grey walls and ceiling.
He turned and looked at Jasmin. She was wearing a long, pale pink flannel
nightdress and a dressing gown.
“You trust me, don’t you?”
“You mean I trust you to not take advantage of me because we’re
going into your bedroom and I’m in my nightie?” She smiled.
“Yes, I trust you, Doctor.”
“Well, that’s ok, then.” He turned the handle and opened
the door.
Jasmin wondered in the moment before she stepped inside what sort of bedroom
The Doctor would have. Her own room here in the TARDIS was a duplicate
of her bedroom at home. So was Alec’s, and Wyn’s, right down
to the mess under the bed. The Doctor had explained that the TARDIS created
rooms they all felt comfortable in, based on their own memories.
So what kind of room would it create for him?
“The bedroom I had when I was a boy on Gallifrey,” he answered
even though she hadn’t asked the question. He went to the window
and drew back the curtain to look out at a view that brought a nostalgic
lump to his throat. The garden of his family home stretching to the woodlands
on the edge of the estate, and beyond that, the mountains of Southern
Gallifrey that he had loved to explore and climb. He turned from the view
and went to the dresser where he kept an assortment of artefacts; fossils,
interesting looking rocks, the tooth of a Pazithi wolf, a large chunk
of iron pyrites with its false glitter. The things that fascinated the
boy that he was nine centuries ago.
The bed was neatly made with crisp linen as it always was mid-morning
when the maids did their work.
It was in that bed, when he was a boy, that the nightmare had first begun
to disturb him. He couldn’t remember how old he was when it started.
He had dreaded going to bed. He had stayed awake as long as possible,
reading and working out mental puzzles, anything to keep his mind active
and stop himself drifting into the nightmare.
And then he would wake in the dark, in a cold sweat, and he would run
to the window and look out at the moon, Pazithi Gallifreya, shining brightly
in the sky. The moon had been a comfort to him. It had been proof that
everything was all right after all - that his world was still there.
His world wasn’t there now. The view out of the window was a very
good illusion created by the TARDIS out of his memory. But there were
other worlds out there, just as real. Earth, the nearest place he had
to a homeworld, now. Earth was real. Earth was there.
He looked around at Jasmin and smiled shyly. It DID seem strange standing
in this room, the room of his boyhood, with a young woman in a nightdress.
He tried to remember if young women in nightdresses ever featured in his
thoughts when he slept in this room. Probably not. He was the sort of
boy who collected rocks and wolf fangs. Women of any description didn’t
feature very highly in his interests.
Well, he thought. No more prevaricating. He slipped off his shoes and
his jacket, pulled off his tie and unfastened the top button of his shirt,
then he pulled back the covers and lay down in the bed. It felt comfortable
as he laid his head on the pillow. The smell of fresh linen was a nice
one. It went with the comforting feel of the familiar room.
Jasmin pulled up a chair and sat beside him. She reached out and touched
his hand. His fingers closed around hers.
“Thank you,” he whispered and then he closed his eyes. Jasmin
remembered she was going to ask him how he intended to send himself to
sleep. Counting sheep didn’t seem him, somehow.
“Don’t have sheep on Gallifrey,” he said in a slow,
drowsy voice. Then his breathing steadied and his hearts slowed as he
relaxed into an ordinary, gentle sleep. She tried to remember what she
had read about stages of sleep and wondered how long he would take to
reach the point where dreams began.
About a half an hour was the answer, but he couldn’t have told her
that. He was not aware of the passage of time. And that, in itself, was
strange. Even when he was in a deep trance his body clock marked the time.
He was a Time Lord, after all. Time was an inherent part of his whole
being. He was a creature of time.
But time no longer existed. The realisation of that fact caused the first
shock to his system. Time wasn’t simply slowed or even stopped.
It didn’t exist. No time was passing. Nothing was happening.
There was nothing there.
No stars, no planets, no nebula, no black holes. No universe. Nothing.
Not even mist. Not even blackness. Nor whiteness either. Nothing existed.
Not even him.
The shock overwhelmed his senses - the terrible shock of realising the
truth.
He was no longer alive.
He was not dead either.
He was aware of his own thoughts. He knew he had thoughts. But he had
no brain to have the thoughts in. He had no body. He wasn’t even
a he. He was just a consciousness, a remnant of life, clinging onto…
…Onto what? There was nothing there. Nothing existed. HE didn’t
exist.
Yet he still had thoughts. He was still self-aware even though he didn’t
exist. Even though his body was gone along with everything else that used
to exist before…
…Before what? What had happened? When did it happen? Why?
He tried to remember. What happened to the universe, what happened to
the people, the planets, the teeming life?
Or did they never exist? Were they just figments of his imagination?
No, they existed once. He was sure of it. Once there WERE planets. There
were people, lots of different people - infinite varieties. It was all
there once. And he lived among it all. Once, he existed. He had a body.
He walked and talked and felt things. He had friends. There were people
who were more than friends. People he loved.
Love didn’t exist any more.
Neither did hate. All those beings that lived only to kill, they were
gone, too. Daleks. No more Daleks. Daleks didn’t exist now.
Daleks never existed. THEY were a figment of his imagination.
Nothing existed. Nothing ever did. There was nothing. Time and space didn’t
exist. There was just this consciousness, this mind that thought it could
remember time and space.
But it was mistaken. There was nothing. He couldn’t even remember
now who he thought he was supposed to be.
Nothing.
Not even darkness. Or maybe there was darkness. But he couldn’t
see it. He didn’t have eyes, after all. He had no body. He was just
a mind with strange ideas about things that never were.
A mind that was utterly, utterly alone, because nothing else existed.
A mind that was so afraid.
Alone.
Nothing else existed. Nothing else had ever existed. There was just fear
and loneliness.
Jasmin watched The Doctor carefully. He WAS definitely dreaming, and
she was fairly sure it was the same dream he had on the beach. The same
expression was on his face. She felt his hearts. They were racing. And
his flesh was clammy with cold sweat.
“Fight it, Doctor,” She whispered to him. “It’s
only a dream. Dreams can’t hurt you. Fight it. Get the better of
it.”
There was something at the back of her mind. Something she had read in
one of her text books. She tried to concentrate on it, focus.
Lucid Dreaming. That was the phrase - a state of dreaming and KNOWING
that you ARE dreaming.
That was the key. That was what The Doctor had to do. He had to know he
was dreaming.
“Doctor.” She leant over and spoke close to his ear. “Doctor,
you’re dreaming. Tell yourself it’s a dream. Tell yourself
it’s no more than a dream, a figment of your imagination. You’re
frightened because it seems real. But it’s not. It’s a DREAM.
There’s nothing to be frightened of.”
“There’s nothing to be frightened of,” he told himself.
“This is just a dream. The universe hasn’t ended. I’m
NOT a disembodied mind floating in nothing. Time and Space DO exist. I
exist IN time and space. I’m The Doctor.”
“But how do I wake up from the dream?” he asked himself. “How
do I get home?”
He couldn’t pinch himself. Because he still didn’t have any
kind of corporeal form in the dream. He KNEW now that it WAS just a dream
and outside of it everything he believed in, everything he cared for WAS
still there. And the terrible, overwhelming shock that came with thinking
it was real dissipated, but a new fear replaced it. The fear that he would
not be able to wake up, that he would be trapped in this dream for eternity,
his body growing old, cared for by his friends who would never desert
him, but trapped in a dream of oblivion.
No, he thought resolutely. No. I won’t. If I can’t wake up,
then at least my dream world will be better than this. I’ll rebuild
my world. I’ll shape the formless void around myself.
He tried. He tried to imagine the universe, the billions upon billions
of stars and planets, black holes and comets, nebulae. But it was too
big even for him to imagine at once. He gave up, mentally exhausted by
the effort.
He tried something smaller, easier - a single world - his own world, Gallifrey.
He tried to recreate that. He could easily imagine it. He remembered clearly
what it looked like, what it felt like. He remembered it with a dull aching
pain like a veteran soldier with an old wound that gives him trouble on
cold, damp nights. He remembered it with love, hate, irritation, rage.
But he loved it.
And he couldn’t make that either.
Smaller, he told himself. More personal. No, not people, he added. People
are harder. Places first. Then people.
Something very small. He blinked with eyes his disembodied consciousness
didn’t have and saw, in the formlessness, in the nothing, a faint
green glow. He reached towards it and he knew what it was.
An energy cell from the TARDIS - one of the building blocks of TARDIS
technology. He concentrated on it and a familiar place began to accrete
around the cell, around him. The TARDIS was rebuilding itself. He could
see the console room slowly solidifying around him.
Rebuilding itself as it once was. Not the TARDIS as he knew it now, the
one that reflected a millennium of pain and joy, of heartbreaks and heartaches,
grief and tears, love and hate. This was the TARDIS as it looked when
he first stepped into it as a young Time Lord, first tasting the freedom
to explore the universe. It was in its default style, very clinical, very
scientific, very clean.
Very familiar, but not home as he knew it now.
“But you can get home from here,” a voice told him. He turned
and looked at a familiar face.
“I wasn’t meaning to do people yet,” he said.
“You didn’t. I was always there in your mind,” she answered.
“Susan my dear.” He held out his hand to his granddaughter
before he even remembered that he had a hand now. He WAS a whole being
again. He had a corporeal body. “You look…. The way I saw
you last when I left you on Earth with David.”
“That’s the way you remember me,” Susan told him. “This
is how I am in your memory - forever seventeen.”
“Yes,” he admitted. “You will always be seventeen in
my mind. If I can’t get out of the dream now, at least you’re
with me.”
“But you can get out of it. Jasmin has been trying to tell you for
the last half hour. Do you hear her? Try.”
“Jasmin?”
“Your friend who promised to stay with you until the dream was over.”
“Jasmin!” Yes, he remembered her. Of course he did - the girl
who wanted to be a doctor and worried about his health. She was there.
He looked down at his hand in Susan’s hand.
But it wasn’t Susan’s hand. It was Jasmin’s. She was
holding his hand still as he slept.
He squeezed her hand. It felt real. It felt solid.
He opened his eyes. He looked up into Jasmin’s face. He reached
out and touched her face. It felt good to touch anything, anyone, to have
physical contact with another living being.
That was the thing that was so terrifying about this dream. It was what
made him wake up screaming. It wasn’t that the universe and everything
in it had ceased to exist. It was that he had been left alone in the nothingness.
He had FELT so very alone and just the thought of being that lonely for
ever, endlessly, terrified him so much.
It was what had always terrified him - his ultimate fear. Being alone,
being utterly alone. It was what he had always feared. That was why he
always surrounded himself with people, why he needed them with him.
“Hey,” he said and smiled.
“Hey yourself,” Jasmin answered. “Are you all right?”
“I’m more than all right,” he said. “I’m
great. I’m fantastic. All these years I’ve been afraid. Do
you know what of?”
“What?”
“Nothing!” He laughed. “I was afraid of NOTHING, of
eternal nothing. That’s what it was that I couldn’t face.
Can you believe that?”
“I believe it,” Jasmin said. “I’m not sure I understand
it. But it doesn’t matter. What matters is that you’re ok.
I knew you just had to work your way through it.”
“You were right,” he told her. “You were absolutely
right. Every time I woke myself up I couldn’t remember the dream
but I remembered how it made me feel, so very small and alone and despairing.
But this time… this time I saw it through. And I know now there
is nothing to be afraid of. Absolutely NOTHING!”
“Good,” Jasmin said. “Then why don’t
you lie down again and get some more sleep. You’ve got about eight
hundred years of it to catch up on.” She leant over again and kissed
him on the forehead then turned away. He watched her leave the room then
he clicked his fingers and the lights turned low. He turned over and pressed
his face into the clean-smelling pillow and let himself fall asleep. He
wasn’t scared to do that any more.