#almost forever

The winter snow melted into spring,

a sign of new beginnings.

But still the feelings linger,

and I still hope for the summer

I always imagined would be there,

ohh goodness, here we go. I got a bit carried away but hope it is all that you’re looking for :)

Almost Forever (a continuation of Did You Make This? by @loupettes)

The Doctor made his way back to the TARDIS. His feet were heavy as blocks of cement, his mind was empty, and he couldn’t tell if he was actually breathing or not, but on he went. Last of the time lords and all that, what other option did he have? He found his ship, he walked inside, he shut the door behind him.

It’s gonna follow us!

The assembled hordes of Genghis Khan couldn’t get through that door, and believe me they’ve tried.

He pushed the memory out of his head as he made his way up the ramp.

You think you’re so impressive.

I am so impressive!

He blinked away the vision of his past self and the much younger girl of pink and yellow and continued on.

That’s what you are, a big old punk with a bit of rockabilly thrown in.

He could almost hear her following him around the console, but shook it out of his mind. He trudged along, aimlessly falling onto the jumpseat.

You alright?

He tilted his head to see a Rose in a blue Witchita Falls t-shirt, a look of both sympathy and hurt spread on her face. But as soon as she was there, and before he could have responded, she was gone. He turned his head back forward.

The Doctor just sat. Maybe it was a day, a few weeks, a decade, although really it had only been a few minutes. He tried not to think about how quiet it was, how not even the TARDIS had been making that comforting wheezing sound. As if she was mourning herself.

I looked into the TARDIS, and the TARDIS looked into me.

He tried to move his hand to stroke her in support, but he just physically couldn’t. Instead he just stared off into the distance, into the eerie emptiness of his ship which not even a few hours ago had been filled with joy and laughter and…

Imagine watching that happen to someone who you –

What, Doctor?

He let out a sigh. No use in denying it anymore, he supposed, now that neither of them needed protection from those feelings. Or rather, now that the option of just being a coward about it had been taken away from him. The Doctor leaned forward, catching his head in his hands in shame.

When he finally looked back up, a post-it note attached to the monitor caught his eye.

Hold on. Did you—did you make this? This is your post-it note? You wrote this, in Gallifreyan?

Yep.

You learnt how to write Gallifreyan?

Mmm.

You learnt how to write ‘forever´ in Gallifreyan?

Yeah!

As gently as he possibly could, the Doctor pulled the note off the monitor and held it between his fingers. His mind shot back to the first time she had given him that impossible promise of forever. He knew he shouldn’t have let himself fall for it. Not that Rose didn’t mean it when she said it—he knew she did, and that’s why it was so easy to believe. But the universe had a funny way of catching up to him when he got too happy. He shouldn’t have led himself on like that, and he certainly shouldn’t have led Rose on. What had he been thinking? Letting her believe they could ever have a happy ending? He swore he usually wasn’t that daft.

It’s just… it just doesn’t actually say ‘forever’. Not quite.

The Doctor shut his eyes tight. At the time it had just been an accident, a line a one thousandth of a degree off. It was a mistake he had probably made centuries ago when he was a child. But now it had turned out to be an unavoidable fortune, a dark omen, a black spot calling for their theoretical kraken. It wasn’t enough that this whole ordeal had essentially been one big, awful practical joke the universe played on him. It had needed more as it always did.

The TARDIS finally offered the Doctor a small hum of support… but there was something else mixed in there. An apology. Except it was more than that. It was… guilt.

The Doctor looked up, confusion spreading across his face. “What do you mean you…?”

Ok- don’t laugh! But the TARDIS has been teaching me little bits of Gally… Gal- what’s it called?

Gallifreyan?

The TARDIS had known… she had known all along.

“You knew and you only tried giving me this bloody rubbish warning?!” he yelled, pure hot anger ripping through his body now. Of course he knew it wasn’t really the TARDIS’s fault, knew she never would have possibly been able to stop this from happening. But he didn’t exactly have the capacity for rationality at the moment.

The TARDIS shot back at him with a stronger, more indignant sort of growl, and the Doctor’s face turned even more puzzled.

“What do you mean it wasn’t a warning? What else was it supposed to be, then? Just a sign that I was getting too happy?! A sign that…” his voice trailed off into thought now. Was he crazy? No… well, maybe… but maybe- just quite possibly for once- he wasn’t. “A sign that I can get back to her?” he whispered.

He stayed frozen in place now waiting for some kind of response from the TARDIS, but she remained disappointingly quiet. The Doctor’s face fell and he slumped back down in defeat, back into his grief.

And then his head popped back up again. He threw himself out of his seat and started running around flipping switches and pulling levers like a mad man. Because the Doctor wasn’t ready to give up, not just quite yet, not on Rose Tyler. It wouldn’t have been the first time she had left them clues to get to where they needed to be, and it certainly wouldn’t be the first time he had disagreed with the TARDIS about something.

Over the next few weeks, the Doctor worked tirelessly. He had only experienced disappointment after disappointment, but he frantically held onto that last shred of hope. Until one brilliant day he had finally done it. He had located a crack, just the tiniest little one that hadn’t properly healed up yet. A nearly giddy smile spread across his face at that discovery, but it wasn’t long before he was crashing back to reality. It was a highly unstable fracture, one that would undoubtedly collapse two entire universes if not travelled through properly. And that would take a lot of power he didn’t have.

The Doctor paused for a moment, considering his options. He had come so far… so far. And to give up now when he was so close… No. He wouldn’t do it. He pushed forward.

After what seemed like an additional infinite amount of failure, the Doctor finally found exactly what he needed: a great big ball of energy and power, a sun. He scanned for life all around, but to his relief there was none to be found. Well, there would be some plant life caught in the crossfire (which he hoped Rose wouldn’t be too angry about), but nothing detrimental in the long run. More than confident now, he began to draw in its power, his smile growing wider with each passing minute. Maybe the universe was finally doing something for him, finally realizing that a happy Doctor was good for everyone. Maybe after everything he had been through, he was finally being rewarded.

And then he heard the ding from the monitor and all of that hope and happiness drained from him.

It should have kept drawing power… there should have been more… He couldn’t get through.

The Doctor’s legs gave out and he collapsed onto the grating beneath him. He could feel his body filling back up with pain and exhaustion and despair, yet somehow he was completely numb at the same time. How could he have done this to himself again? Get his hopes up so high when he should have known- he should have known- it was never going to end the way he wanted. The universe had not only won, but it got another good laugh at the pathetic man who would do anything for the woman he loved. He leaned his head against the coral behind him and shut his eyes in defeat.

Then the TARDIS hummed at him. Since starting this mission, she had been constantly warning him off, trying to stop him, trying to calm him down. But now she was giving him encouragement to keep going? Without even opening his eyes, the Doctor gave her an empty laugh in return.

“You know as well as me it isn’t possible,” he answered tiredly. The TARDIS moaned back at him again. “I can’t,” he cut her off, practically spitting out the words. The TARDIS gave one last quiet groan, before letting silence overflow the room again.

“I’m sorry,” he tried a few minutes later, finally calming down. “But there’s nothing left to try, there’s not enough power… there’s not enough...” he breathed out, along with that last bit of light he had been clinging onto. Rose was gone, lost, stolen from him too soon and that was that.

The TARDIS whirred again, apparently with a new suggestion. “There isn’t enough power for that,” he shrugged it off. He wasn’t about to make the same mistake of getting his hopes up for a third time, but his ship didn’t seem to care. “We’d need at least another three times amount of power. Maybe if that fracture weren’t so bloody delicate, but—”

The TARDIS cut him off this time, and what she said apparently grabbed his attention. “Two minutes?” He let the words linger for just a moment, pondering them over, before snapping himself back to reason. “No… it’s not possible.” She wheezed back at him again. “Leave it to you? What do you mean leave it to you?” He waited for an answer, but this time the ship remained quiet knowing he already knew.

The Doctor looked up in concern now. “I can’t let you do that.” She wouldn’t have that answer though, and he knew there was no point in arguing further. He knew that his ship knew this wasn’t exactly a smart idea, but he also knew she wouldn’t suggest it if it were completely impossible. And above all that, he knew she missed Rose nearly as much as he did and wanted to do this last thing for her.

With what seemed like the last of his strength, the Doctor hoisted himself up and pushed himself back over to the console. “We’ll have to get a signal through to her beforehand. I’ll find a few stars that should be enough for a few minor messages. Can you direct them to her?” he asked, to which the TARDIS replied positively.

Over the next few days, they worked together to send through the messages and prepare for the full image transmission. With the ship’s help (and a few life-shortening breaths of power from the Doctor), everything remained on track for success. Still, he didn’t let himself get his hopes up. There was no real way of knowing if Rose would get their breadcrumb trail, no way of knowing if she would follow it, no way of knowing if she would arrive in time, no way of even knowing if all the power they were building up would be just enough to break through. And even if it all did miraculously work, it would still be just a couple minutes. A far cry from whatever sort of forever he had ever hoped for.

Finally everything was ready, or at least as ready as it was ever going to be. The Doctor had gone back to sitting on the grating, hugging his knees and trying not to think about how impossibly close he was again. Then the ship gave a gentle whir.

It was time.

The Doctor stood up and slowly made his way to the monitor. He continued telling himself not to be surprised if she wasn’t there, not to be disappointed if the transmission cut out earlier than expected or if it didn’t work entirely, and to just stay as calm as possible.

The Doctor flipped a few switches, pulled a few levers, and then waited as the power flowed through and the TARDIS boosted it up. He braced himself one last time for whatever sight he was about to come across.

At first there was just a little spark, and then an image faded in. He saw some sand, a quiet ocean, and—

Her.

The Doctor took in the view of Rose Tyler standing before him and did something he hadn’t done in months: he smiled.

---

After an exhausting day on every level he could possibly think of, the Doctor was back in the TARDIS. Alone.

After shaking the fake snow out of his hair, he finally gave his ship that comforting stroke. “I hope you’re feeling all better now,” he told her, and she replied with a half hearted groan. “I know,” he gave her one last pat and a sad smile.

As he sat down he found that post it note lying haphazardly across the console, and carefully stuck it back onto the monitor. He sighed. “Suppose it wasn’t nearly as almost forever as I was hoping for.”

The TARDIS gave him a wheeze of sympathy, and then silence washed over the room again. For some time the Doctor just sat in it, giving himself a chance to simply grieve one last time. But then he entered in some coordinates and he continued on as he always did- as he always had to.

30 chapters, posting one every day. 

40,135 words written.

One story (that I started THREE YEARS AGO) finally finished!!

I finally finished the next chapter for ‘Almost Forever.’ It’s only been six months (or more!) since the last one.  o.0  Jiminy Cricket Hallelujah.  Final review/edits and that puppy is done fini finito terminado finished.  

Pardon me whilst I congratulate myself!!

It’s my pleasure to start off the Blog-Tour for this unexpected delight of a read. Laura Danks brings the expected and yet still manages to capture her readers and take them along for the duration of this very emotional ride.

Follow @auradanks @HQDigitalUK on Twitter or LauraDanks on Facebook

About the book

Can love truly conquer all?

When a vicious attack leaves Paul in a coma on his wedding…