#sgcmd

It had started innocuously enough.

The TARDIS had decided to drop out of the time vortex early, landing in a place far off from both the time and space of the intended destination, stopping with what could only be considered a blurp and a whine. She let out a few sparks and some smoke, then stilled, light dimming.

The Doctor frowned, a little concerned. The screen showed clearly that they weren’t anywhere near where they’d set out, but it wasn’t exactly the most unusual occurrence. He leaned forward and rubbed the column gently, a concerned look on his face, “What’s wrong..? Is it something you ate? Indigestion?” She answered with a low hmm, nothing that sounded too worrying, and the Doctor decided to let her rest for a few hours at least before trying to leave.

He gave her a sympathetic smile, patting the console again before moving to the door. “I’ll see what’s out there. Just.” He waved, never good with words of comfort, and patted one of the coral column on his way out. “Take your time.”

He stepped out of the TARDIS and looked around, hands in his pockets. It wasn’t the first time she was a bit fussy. And if he was honest, they had been running around a lot more than usual, those last few weeks. Hopping from one place to another, helping people, getting into trouble, and generally avoiding to think about the impending end of his song and four knocks prophecy.

He wasn’t running, no. Just. Enjoying life and seeing the bright side of things. No use in being all gloomy, right? And the fact that he was still companion-less and slept even less than even he was used to didn’t mean anything. He was just busy. Of course he was.

In any case, he could understand the TARDIS wanting to take a break. He had been working her harder than usual, and while she had happily obliged, just as eager as him to travel, maybe he hadn’t been too considerate.

Guiltily, he turned back to his old friend, not paying any attention to the deserted wilderness she had landed them in. For once, he didn’t answer the call of adventure. Once inside, he mentally vowed to make it up to her, starting by gently brushing her panels and launching a diagnostic he had neglected to do for far longer than he would dare to admit.

“Sorry, we’ll rest a few days. How does that sound?” He looked up at the ceiling. The lights were still dimmed, but her answering hmmm was of a lighter, content tone.

In the end, his promise of a few days was cut short to a day and a half. He’d run all the diagnostics, polished a few things, tinkered with a few others. Her lights had gone back to normal, her tone more or less good, even if it was still a bit low. He’d become a bit restless after that time, finally deciding to explore, unable to sit still for any longer.

It hadn’t been a good idea.

While the place had indeed been deserted of people it had been far from devoid of life, and he’d ended up bothering a particularly nasty family of giant squashmas. It hadn’t been his fault, really, he just hadn’t seen them there and they were a very territorial species, looking slightly like a mix of a rabbit and a pterodactyl. A very nasty rabbit.

He’d ended up running back to the TARDIS, narrowly avoiding a fall in the local river and nursing a nasty-looking bite on his shoulder. Looked worse than it was, really, but everything about those things was definitely nasty. He’d glared at his ship’s amused tone, laced with a bit of ‘I told you so’, and ignored what could only be described as her laughing at him in his mind. He frustratedly pulled a lever and sent them back in the vortex before going to tend to the bite in the medbay. It wouldn’t leave any trace, but it was bloody embarrassing.

The next time she showed signs of faltering, the Doctor was more worried. It had only been a day or so, and she’d dropped them again, much less nicely than before. The ship rocked, throwing the Doctor in the seat, then into the console, and there was no way this landing had been anything but a crash.

He groaned and rubbed his head where it’d hit, wincing and rolling from under the controls. “That was—“ He started, pushing himself to his feet wobblily. “What was that?” He leaned on the console, trying to regain his bearings. The atmosphere in the control room felt ominous, with the lights dimmed again, a sickly green feel to them, and the TARDIS quiet sound just on this side of a plaintive whine. Everything was also tilted, as if they hadn’t landed quite straight, making it hard to move around. He shook himself and reached out to her, expression turning very worried. That, wasn’t normal at all, and it scared him deep inside, especially when he could feel a hint of just how bad she felt, through their link.

“What’s going on, old friend?” he pushed worriedly, “What’s wrong?” he fussed a bit around the console, throwing concerned look around. When she didn’t reply with anything but another low whine, he almost panicked. For a few, terrible moments, he didn’t know what to do, and almost broke down here and there, only to come out of it at a reassuring telepathic brush against his mind. He mentally latched on it, breathing hard for a moment as he calmed down.

When he let go of her, he had a determined look on his face. He had already lost too many people. Far too many. He wasn’t going to lose her too. She wasn’t someone he could afford to lose, even less than the others, however harsh that might sound. Not his old girl. Not her. He’d give his life, all the lives he had left, rather than to let her die.

“I’ll find out what’s wrong!” he promised to the empty console room, almost more to himself than to her, and rushed to the door. The sight that met him —ground, apparently she was half buried in the ground on that side— made him backtrack and rush into her deeper rooms instead, seeking out the library.

When he finally emerged in the control room again, feeling quite sheepish, he was much less worried. He’d overreacted. What he’d found in his old Gallifreyan books and records showed that this was rare, but harmless. A TARDIS illness. She would be back on her ‘feet’ in no time, so to speak.

He nevertheless apologised to her, leaning his forehead on her column and reaching out more fully with his mind. He apologised both for how careless he’d been with her, and for having disappeared in the library for almost two days, neglecting her. He felt her reach back to him, telepathically petting him as she forgave him, and gently push him away.

He frowned. “Oh no, don’t start. I’m going to help, and you know it.” He gave her a fondly exasperated look. “Who’d have known you were just like me when I’m sick, uh?” And with that, he started on the diagnostics and maintenance, just like he’d read was the best way to help a TARDIS along back to health. He could feel her try to push him away again, but he was nothing if not stubborn. “Oh quit that.” He muttered, arms deep in circuitry up to the elbows, tone distracted as he concentrated on all the things he could do. The room was still tilted, but he didn’t dare to push her back in the vortex just yet, even just to immediately land upright, not before he was sure she was up to it.

He was brought back to reality when a circuit sparked, shocking his fingers slightly. He looked up, glaring, and was answered with a low groan and another telepathic push.

“Now that’s enough, you. I’m trying to help.” He said, clearly, “I’m not going to hurt you, you know me.” he frowned at her, concerned. “Just. Trust me, please.” And he sent her all the reassurance he could through their link, only to feel her recoil. He wouldn’t admit it, but it hurt. His gaze hardened and he went back to work, ignoring her weak shocks to get him away. “I know you’re not used to being sick, that it’s new and scary. It’s not pleasant — believe me, I’ve there, I know — but you know it’ll get better faster if you let me help.” He was met with a plaintive whine that sounded all too much like it had exasperation in it. He glared some more, “I’m helping, whether you want it or not.” He went back to the circuits. She shocked him again, vindictive. “Don’t make a fuss!” He snapped.

It didn’t take more than a few hours of work, constantly being pushed back, two stubborn beings trying to help the other —although, the Doctor didn’t get that was why she was doing this— before the TARDIS insistence finally got to his nerves and he irritatedly closed one of the panels. He was disheveled, fingers reddish from the shocks, grease on his clothes, face and arms and looking generally just as irritated as he felt. The TARDIS didn’t sound that much better, but he was honestly tired of working in a tilted room, his tools rolling away the first chance they got. And besides, if she felt good enough to push at him and shock him, then she felt good enough to right herself, he decided.

“That’s enough,” he grumbled, and pushed the lever to launch the dematerialisation. He stepped back as a shower of sparks flew out at that, the TARDIS highjacking the controls. He threw himself on them, trying to take back the upper hand as she started rocking and groaning, but she was determined not to let him. He gave her an incredulous look. It really was rare to have her take control so blatantly. She maybe had done it only once or twice so far in his whole life, and he truly hadn’t expected her to be able to do it now of all times.

“What are you doing!?” He looked between her column and the screen, gripping the console to keep from being thrown to the ground. It didn’t help much when a particularly violent lurch managed to dislodge him anyway, sending him to the ground anyway, further rocking making him slide and fall even father from the console as he had nothing to grab on to. Finally he managed to get a hold on one of the coral pillars, grimacing at her. “Where are you taking us?!?” He almost shouted above the noise. The only answer he got was sheer stubbornness through the telepathic link. She was refusing to answer him.

Finally, with a crashing sound, more rocking, and a deep shudder, she landed them. The Doctor panted, looking around the now quiet, and very dim room. The TARDIS perpetual tone was also very quiet, and for a second, he held his breath in fear, trying to hear it. It was faint but there, and he let out that breath, shaking a bit himself. He pushed himself to his feet, reaching out to her mentally, more concerned than ever. She gave him a reassuring pat before pushing him away again, weakly.

Once again, he couldn’t help but feel hurt, deep inside, but he knew a dismissal when he felt one. She obviously didn’t want him here now, preferred to have him take a look outside, or she wouldn’t have used up her strength to get him there…

He hesitated a moment, wide eyes still fixed on her barely lit column, before he felt another gentle push and got moving towards the door, uneasy, unsure of what he was going to find out there and not really sure he would like it. Finally, with one final look behind him, he opened the door and stepped out.

The sight that met him was unlike anything he expected, and his left eyebrow rose on its own accord. “Errr, I think this is the wrong address..” He muttered to no one in particular, not quite sure what to say, but very sure he wasn’t liking this.