TM Topic #168 - Party

"I cannot believe I am being thrown out of my own TARDIS!" the Doctor shouted as the doors closed behind him; he caught rather devious giggling before they shut. Sighing, he paced in front of the police box and reviewed what had led to this travesty.

( Silly Fluff )

TM Response #169 - Fragile

Her eyes are dull.

They're not supposed to be. They're supposed to be bright with defiance, or excitement, or anger, or something, anything that makes her the strong, vibrant girl he's come to care so much for. The girl who helps him forget the loss, the tragedy, as they run through space and time together.

It shouldn't be so easy to snuff out that light. It should take so much more than a slip on

And yet, as they sit against the cold stone with her head against his shoulder, he can see it fading, slowly but surely. She is dying, just as he is, and there is nothing he cam do to save her.

Not again.

She doesn't deserve to die in a place like this.

He won't let her.

No matter what it takes, what it costs, he will see that fire in her eyes again.



He shouldn't die like this. He's the Doctor and she's bent over him as he takes trembling breaths, gaze losing focus as his limbs grow limp.

It isn't right. She's seen him do so much, survive so much, and now he's dying from toxemia and there's nothing she can do for him, nothing. This isn't how heroes are supposed to die. Heroes aren't supposed to die at all.

It's all her fault. If she hadn't been so clumsy, so useless, so scared, he might not be sprawled on the TARDIS floor staring up at nothing as she tries not to sob.

I'm so sorry, Doctor.

He's dying for her.

She won't let it be in vain.