Singing Sweetly, Singing Sadly
Raine woke up to singing.
She crept through the TARDIS, and came to see the Doctor alone in a room. His eyes were closed, and his hands were on his chest, and he sang a song in a language that the woman could not recognize. Whatever the Doctor was singing, it was clearly full of emotion, as there was passion in his voice.
Raine thought she had crept onto him quietly, but he turned in her direction, and nodded, without opning his eyes, or stopping his song. Raine couldn't stop herself from humming along to his voice, and soon they were crooning along each other, two lone songbirds in the TARDIS.
Eventually, the Doctor stopped singing, and it was like a spell had lost effect. Raine was soon embarrassed, as she realized she was still in jammies, but as the Doctor opened his eyes, he didn't seem to notice.
“That's an Yoruban song I learned years ago. It is about loss, and rebirth,” the Doctor said in his Scottish voice.
“It's a rather beautiful song,” Raine said. Normally, that sort of sappy stuff wouldn't have appealed to her, but the way the Doctor sung it, the song felt real.
“Indeed. The king who taught it to me had much to be sad about. His people had nearly died on the voyage to a new town, and at the end of his life, he was not sure whether they would continue to survive. When he sung it to me, he imbued that song with every fiber of his being. And so, when I sing it, I try to give it every fiber of mine,” said the Doctor.
“Did his people survive?” asked Raine.
“Yes. But I did not tell him that would happen, for fear that it might disrupt the timeline. That was foolish of me,” said the Doctor. His eyes had a deep sadness in them. The years of his life seemed to be clouding his mind.
The Doctor grabbed his umbrella and walked down the corridors. Raine watched him walk away, and soon felt the slight acceleration that meant the TARDIS was moving.
Whistling an old tune about loss and rebirth, she prepared for another adventure.