Still No Jam
"Still No Jam"
Who: The Broken Doctor
Drabble: The Doctor wake up in his box as he's being shipped to NY's Torchwood.
The air was close, tied up around his head like a kerchief. It was a little hard to breathe, though that could have been from the annoying closeness of the space he was in, or possibly from the piece of slightly burned toast resting across his nose and mouth. The Doctor blinked, turned his head to dislodge the bit of bread, and tried his best to gaze through the darkness and discover his location. His arms and legs, he found, were quite as capable of moving as his neck had been and after a moment, the shape and contents of his space were mapped out.
He was in a small box, just a little larger than his body. Fingers inched along the lid, several centimeters from his nose. It was certainly good that Time Lords did not need to breathe as much as humans did because the air levels could very easily run low or out complete before someone discovered him. Other than himself, and the odd piece of toast, there were bottles of water down around his feet.
For an hour, the Doctor blinked up at the lid of the box he was in, thinking about Saxon and banana flavored candies and the lack of jam once again. He imagined how his Master would laugh and laugh about what he’d managed to get himself into. Every once in awhile, there would be a bump, a sensation of lifting up or dropping down. From time to time, a bit of a song wound itself into his head and he hummed for a minute of two until the stillness crept against his shattered, bruised mind.
Claustrophobia set itself in not long after.
Doctors ran. Doctors ran and ran and never stopped. Being still had never been good for him. Unable to do more than shift around slightly to the left or right, the panic began in his dual hearts and raged through his veins. By the time that he was unpacked from the back of the plane, he had screamed himself hoarse, bloodied all of his fingers, and passed out. That, at least, had been merciful.
A postal attendant scanned the barcode on the parcel the Doctor laid in. New York City. Addressee: Captain Jack Harkness. Torchwood.