Doctor Who Fic: A Monologue From the Console Room
Title: A Monologue From the Console Room
Rating: G
Disclaimer: If I owned it, would I be writing this here?
Summary: During that horrible period when Amy and Rory are asleep and the Doctor is alone, Idris appears. The Doctor talks.
Spoilers: Massive ones for 'The Doctor's Wife'.
A/N: Me! Writing Doctor Who fic after all this time! Neil Gaiman, this is all your fault! Tone-wise this is based on a short story called 'Orientation' which, though different in subject matter, tells the story just through a one sided monologue without any description of action or tone of voice (well worth a look by the way as it's very chilling.)
I really hope I've pulled off Eleven's voice - especially as there is no description to buffer it and you have to make the judgements about when he is being light, or sad, or emotional from my use of words, breaks and grammar!
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What? No! Don't explode! Ow!
That. Really. Hurt.
Where's my hammer? Hmph. And now I've got to go all the way to the garage and find a spare wire and I could be gone a while because I can't remember where I last left the garage... so you can just float through space with only one booster working and see how you like that, can't yo -
Wh-?
Idris?
You've made yourself corporal. Only it's not really you, is it?
Well it is. But it isn't. Not really. You've made a hologram of yourself you clever thing. Can you talk? Of course not - stupid question - you can only make a projection using saved data and I'm presuming you saved Idris's DNA and image… but you couldn't save her voice, could you?
I still could make you talk, you know. I know you aren't meant to, and I know they all say it's not possible… but they said it wasn't possible to build those pyramids either and we both showed them otherwise, didn't we?
Oh don't look like that, I didn't mean to drop that last block on you. Winching never was my strong point… and I repainted you afterwards, didn't I? Even though you aren't really a Police Box and, technically, you could have repaired the scratch yourself. Also, that shade of blue is really hard to find.
I suppose you're right. Us talking all the time would be a bad idea… what with seven-hundred years of history to squabble about. It's a silly thought. And people would get the wrong idea. You know how human people can be about things like that.
Well, no, I suppose not.
Is that why you've appeared; you missed having a physical form? I suppose everyone relishes the chance to be someone else for a bit. If I got the chance to feel what it's like to be you for a day and be part of all of time and space, I'd probably miss it when I was back in my own boring body too.
But it's not really you, it is? It's just a projection of you. You may be able to nod and smile and… and heave your bosom... but you can't really breathe, or move, or touch, or bleed, or… or find out what fish-fingers taste like. We'll only ever have that one moment where you were ali- where you could run around out there with me and see what I see and feel what I…
Anyway.
Yeah.
Never-mind that.
Have you got a message for me? Is that why you've turned up?
I still don't understand what you said to Rory. It feels like I understand less and less every day, to be honest. Rory's hidden depths would take another ten lifetimes to explore, River's are all in the distance, all still to come, and Amy - who always made sense, even when her life didn't - even she has her secrets now. Her mysteries.
I know, I know, I'm being maudlin. It's all this time hanging around the console room waiting for them to stop sleeping - so very tedious. The human body only needs six hours of sleep and yet they still insist on eight as a minimum. And I keep telling them that as there are two of them now they should work in shifts so that there isn't all this hanging around waiting for them - but they insist on sleeping at the same time.
Oh.
Oh you silly old thing.
Is that why you've appeared? To remind me that you're still here even when I'm feeling a bit lone- when I'm feeling sorry for myself? Awwww! You're getting sentimental in your old age.
Alright, alright, there's no need to look that that. I appreciate it.
I really -
I do appreciate it.
How did you know I was feeling-? Never-mind. Silly question. I can tell when Amy is restless by the length of the skirt she chooses - and I've barely known her five minutes, relatively speaking. I expect after all this time you can tell my mood by the way I walk across your floor or the amount of air I breathe in.
Oh, alright, yes. The way I was stamping and shouting at the wiring might also have been a clue. Yes - alright! - that really isn't a very flattering mime of me y'know. Next time I tell - ask - you to do something inadvisable are you going to appear and make that face at me? All shouty and cross?
Are you going to appear again? Because I'd really…
Oh! And that's their alarm. I suppose they'll be along in a-
And... you're gone.
I better fix this booster, right?