The TARDIS’ radiant emerald yellow light diminished and the central column gently came to a halt, the whole of the interior almost drowning in pitch blackness were not for a vibrant blue light.
The Doctor’s back came very close to leaning against one of the columns, her head was titled back, and her right hand was clenched, as if she were trying to draw enough strength to physically attack an unknown force that was driving her to an intense discomfort.
As a child, she had ran away from the untempered schism, as an elder with the temperament of a child, he had stolen away a ship and took his granddaughter to the stars. She was fearless in that instant.
When the time came to let her grandchild go, she had no fear there either
In thwarting the terrors of Mondas, she had faced the first of many deaths with just as much bravery.
This was an altogether different feeling.
This was a different kind of fear, a fear that rivalled the one forged in the caverns of Metabelis III.
A fear she wasn’t sure she could conquer.
Her face was a complicated jigsaw, changing expression to match the unease in which the anxiety had swept over her.
She felt an ache in the pit of her stomach, she felt a tremble in her hand, sensations of pain that only drove her to distraction, and set her on course for confusion.
There was anger and resentment towards this feeling, there needed to be a counter emotion, a strong show of force, an urge to resist and reject that fear, but it was proving a trying task.
Yaz couldn’t know, Ryan couldn’t know, she needed to hold it together for them, and for one other in particular.
That significant other soon walked into the room, whistling a few Broadway show tunes to himself.
“Hey Doc, what’s with the lights being out in here? We’re almost ready for supper…good on Ryan for paying, I’m skint. We could do with a few egg and ham sarnies from Greggs’, something to chew on while on the go, y’know?”
The Doctor didn’t dare turn around; she didn’t want to subject him to her pain when he was in such jubilant spirits.
But he could sense the disquiet in her soul, and he gently perched himself down where she sat and, seeing that she was now trembling, leaned over and placed a hand over her shoulder.
“What’s the matter Doc?”
The Doctor gently slid over to her side, leaning her head gently on Graham’s shoulder.
“Something’s coming for me…I can feel it” she whispered to him.
The two lay there, precious minutes ticking by, minutes that could be spent reassuring Yaz and Ryan that things were OK and they could go out for sandwiches.
The Doctor’s fears hadn’t left her, but she knew the courageous man providing her warmth in the uninviting darkness, both inner and outer, would never leave her either.
She could feel it.
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