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iamnotoriginalphil · 1 year

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Good Girl (13th Doctor x f!Reader)

Synopsis: You had trouble when the Doctor said a certain phrase

Words: 2.1k

Warnings: praise kink

The first time she’d done it, it was like your brain had short circuited. You froze, not sure what to do with yourself. Your skin felt overheated and your breath caught in your throat. Your fingers clenched and only later would you find the half moon imprints on your palm left over from the bite of your fingernails.

“Good girl.”

The murmur of the Doctor’s voice, typically quiet, echoed in your ears. It rang through your head. She wasn’t even looking at you, already distracted. All you’d done was make a suggestion, wanting to help her as much as you could. It had been said softly, barely more than a whisper, not something to be heard by another person. You weren’t sure she’d even meant to say it.

A nudge from Yaz’s elbow had brought you back, rebooting your brain. She slipped her hand through your arm, guiding you after the Doctor as she prattled on, spiralling off from your initial idea.

“You okay?” she asked, keeping her voice quiet.

“Perfect,” you replied, not needing anyone to know what had happened.

The second time she’d done it, you knew she hadn’t been talking to you. After a long adventure with entirely too much running, she’d agreed to take you all home. She’d been at the console for longer than usual, hands stroking over parts of it, mumbling to herself.

“Good girl.”

The pride in the Doctor’s voice when they landed was palpable. Your knees turned to jelly and you had to grasp on to some of the railing to stay upright. Butterflies fluttered in your stomach and your mouth turned dry. You couldn’t tear your eyes from her, despite her back being to you. You were surprised by how much you wanted to see her lips form the words.

“Come on, you lot,” she said, barely offering a glance over her shoulder before bounding out the doors.

Ryan clapped you on the shoulder, pushing you forward with a soft shove. You stumbled over your own feet, trying to reconnect your brain to the rest of your body. The fresh air helped clear your muddied mind.

The third time she’d done it, you’d been curled up on one side of the sofa, late at night, alone with her on the other. A strangled noise fought its way out of your throat, no matter how hard you tried to keep it quiet. You pressed your thighs tightly together, your book lying forgotten in your lap.

“Good girl.”

The Doctor’s voice was rough, tired, like sandpaper, and you could feel it scrape against your skin. You’d been reading out loud to her, a quiet murmur in the late hour. She’d asked you to stop, her praise given for your silence.

Her eyes turned up to you, widening barely a fraction of an inch. You felt your cheeks heat up and you ducked your head. She wasn’t meant to have heard, you didn’t want her to have heard. Your fingers tapped against the pages of the book. She shifted, the sofa cushions compensating for the change. A warm hand landed on top of yours, stilling your fingers.

“I should probably go to bed,” you said, the words quick on your tongue, “it’s late and I’m sure you have something wonderful planned for tomorrow.”

You stood, abrupt enough for her to fall back from you. You can’t bear to look at her as you hurried out of the room.

The fourth time she’d done it, you were treading water, struggling against the roiling waves of the ocean. Your hair was plastered to your head and adrenaline was still coursing through your veins. Your laughter cut off and you thought the sea might turn to steam where it touched your skin. You shivered, her arms holding on to you, keeping you from drifting away.

“Good girl.”

You’d always been good at following instructions. Jumping off the cliff at the Doctor’s shouted command had been one of the wilder ones you’d followed but you trusted her with your life. Still gasping from the rush, the words had come tumbling from her lips. Water drops clinging to her skin, her eyes were bright and her smile was wide.

She was so close, her arms around your waist. Your hands were resting on her shoulders and having her so close as those words came from her lips was both heaven and hell. She was watching you and you were finding it hard to catch your breath.

“I do appreciate when people can follow instructions,” she said, still grinning that beautiful grin, “surprisingly rare but a good skill to have. I wish everyone had your skills. Good skills. Brilliant skills. Brilliant person.”

“Thank you.”

A wave buffeted you both. She grinned, letting you go and making her way to shore. It took a moment for your brain to kick back in, to remember how to use your arms and legs appropriately. The cold water was the best thing for you in that moment.

The fifth time she’d done it, you knew she did it on purpose. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip and your breath stuttered in your chest. Hands resting on the counter either side of your waist, caging you in, her eyes were dark, tongue darting out to wet her lips as she watched you.

“Can I try something?”

You hadn’t heard the Doctor come into the kitchen, turning around sharply. You were the only one in the TARDIS, the others back home with family relaxing, and you had assumed she was busy doing her constant repairs. But there she was, hands on her hips, looking at you with those eyes you found it hard to say no to.

“Sure,” you said, not sure what you were agreeing to.

Her steps were slow and steady, almost predatory, as she approached you. You froze, not sure what to do. It was as if she was pinning you down with one look. Her hands came up, trapping you against the counter. She lent closer, her breath ghosting over your lips.

“Good girl.”

The words were said with purpose. Enunciating each syllable as if they were a loaded gun. She watched your reaction, her own breathing becoming heavier, chest brushing against yours. Gaze dropping to your lips, something in her seemed to shift.

“Interesting,” she murmured.

“What is?” Your words were little more than an exhalation of breath.

“Your reaction to being called a good girl.” Her eyes swept down then back up, “you thought I wouldn’t notice but I have.”

You pressed your lips together, embarrassment rising in you. You thought you’d been doing so well keeping it under wraps. You’re been trying so hard.

“I notice everything about you,” she continued on as if not saying something sanity smashing, “I wonder if you’d have the same reaction if someone else called you a good girl.”

You made a strangled noise but shook your head, heat creeping over you. It was almost impossible to believe you were having this conversation with her, with the Doctor. Her gaze rested on your lips again, eyes growing molten.

“Yes, that was the noise that made me begin to realise,” she said, more to herself than you.

With a featherlight touch, her fingertip grazed over your lips. You didn’t mean for it to happen, but you whimpered, eyes fluttering closed. You heard her breath hitch, fingers stilling on your skin. You couldn’t bear to open your eyes to her, to let her see exactly how she was effecting you.

“I hope you don’t react this way if other people call you a good girl,” she murmured.

Your knees felt as if they were about to buckle. Your fingers grasped the edge of the counter, clenching painfully. Your breathing was ragged and there was a persistent throb between your legs.

The fingers were removed from your lips. You tensed, not sure what was going to happen next. Warmth grew closer and a pair of lips brushed against the shell of your ear.

“Good girl.”

With a strangled moan your eyes shot open. You released the edge of the counter and grasped her face between both hands. Pressing your lips against hers was electrifying. Every nerve ending was standing to attention and you were gasping into her mouth. She took a step closer, her body pressing against yours and it was too much and not enough and your head was spinning.

Strong hands pressed against your lower back, those powerful arms encircling your body. Her tongue swept into your mouth, taking charge as you whimpered, clutching at her. It was better than you’d dreamed and surpassed your hopes, hot and intense and desperate. She was kissing you like you were the air she breathed and she’d been starved for too long.

She lifted you until you were sitting on the counter, legs caught either side of her hips. Your fingers slipped into her hair, tugging on it. The moan that rumbled through her chest had you losing any semblance of control you had. All you could do was kiss her, wanting to feel her everywhere.

Her lips pressed to the soft skin behind your jaw, gently nipping at it. Your head was swimming. Her tongue was tracing patterns down the column of your neck and you held on to her, needing more, always more, encouraging every scrape of teeth against skin.

She kissed you again, slower and deeper, taking her time to explore. You were putty in her hands, turning into a mess as her tongue stroked along yours. Her fingers gently skimming along the skin of your back, worming under your shirt. You arched into her, feeling that same electricity run along your skin. There was something about her touch that had you addicted, needing more, needing it forever.

By the time she drew away you knew you were more puddle than person. You whined, trying to pull her back into a kiss. She chuckled and it made you feel warm all over. Those eyes of hers were still smouldering and her lips were kiss stung. Hair in disarray and colour high on her cheeks, she looked more beautiful than a sunrise. You wanted to kiss her again.

“Fascinating,” she murmured, running her fingertips along your lips again. You kissed them, watching the way her face lit up.

“Is it?” It was hard to concentrate with her standing between your legs and her fingers on your skin.

“I don’t think you understand exactly how fascinating I find you,” she said, her voice molten, “you’re always surprising me in new ways.”

“I am?” It was like the world was shifting underneath you.

“Just when I think I have a handle on you, you do something so wonderful I can’t help myself. I want to know everything about you. I want to praise you.” Her voice dropped an octave and you shivered, “you’re so good.”

Your legs instinctively tightened around her. A look of delight lit up her face and it made your heart miss a beat. She was so wonderful.

“Is it like this with other people?” she asked, fingers traced patterns over the top of your thighs. It was making it hard to concentrate on the conversation.

“Is what like this?” you asked.

“Does this happen with everyone who praises you?” she asked.

“No.” You bit down on your lower lip, “just with you.”

“Why?” Her head tilted to the side, eyes sweeping over you again.

“I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I have a bit of a crush on you,” you said, “only you.”

Wonder lit her up from the inside out. You could see how her eyes sparkled, brightening from the smoulder she’d been directing at you. A matching grin spread over your face as she continued to look at you as if you were a galaxy spiralling before her eyes.

“Kind of leaving me hanging here, Doc,” you said as the silence continued to stretch.

“Oh, right, yes, of course. I think you’re amazing. The bee’s knees. The cat’s pyjamas. Just the best. Absolutely brilliant. Mind blowing. You blow my mind,” she said, “and I can’t stop thinking about you. You’re always in my head. I’d tell you to get out but it’s quite nice having you in there. You can stay. I’d like you to stay.”

“Doc?”

She looked at you with such hope in her eyes. Your fingers, still tangled in her hair, gently tugged her closer.

“You can just kiss me again,” you told her.

You weren’t the only person who could follow instructions.

#13th doctor imagine #13th doctor x reader #thirteenth doctor imagine #thirteenth doctor x reader #doctor who imagine

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x-neurodivergent-reader · 8 months

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Headcanons: 13th Doctor x Autistic!Reader with a Special Interest in Steam Trains

@neurodiverse-dumpingground’s request: “Hi could you do a headcanon with the 13th doctor and autistic reader who’s hyperfixation is steam trains please!”

A/N: Here you go – since there are a few possible angles to be interested in for that topic, I tried to cover several of them, so hopefully it's a decent read no matter which part of trains you're into. Enjoy!

The reader here is gender-neutral.

Content warnings: None.

Want to go back to the industrial revolution to see the earlier steam trains, and perhaps even ride them? The Doctor has you covered!

The moment you started travelling with her, being able to go on (or at least see) every type of steam train you know of became one of the top things on your bucket list.

The Doctor is more than happy to assist with this, especially so other people can see how clever her beloved companion is – and she’ll even take you to see similar locomotives from other planets, so you can learn about more different types beyond those created by humans.

One of them was essentially a steampunk-themed planet, where the train workers you met were impressed by your knowledge and eagerness to learn about their technology!

Whenever you want to infodump – whether it be about different types of trains, or their mechanisms – the Doctor is technology-minded enough to understand every word.

Especially if it’s about how they function, she can talk back with equal enthusiasm, so you both get to bond over them with each other.

If there’s any historically-inaccurate holes in your previous research about them, she’ll also correct it, so you get to know even more!

While the Doctor would rather take you to see the older trains in action than go to a museum, if you fancy doing the latter, she'll be willing to take you there. Nobody pays much mind to the cheeky little smiles you exchange when you see a train you've seen/ridden many years ago.

If you like to collect things regarding steam trains – whether it be models, or just books to read – the Doctor will help you find them, or if you’re not present, she’ll get any she comes across and give them to you the next time she picks you up.

The TARDIS eventually makes an extension to your room to keep your train-related stuff in, so you have it all accessible in one big space!

Chances are that, at some point, one of your adventures going on a train turns into another heroic endeavour. This may or may not lead to you being able to put your knowledge to use by helping to get the train to safety yourself.

The Doctor can tell that this was the best day of your life, and your delight each time you reminisce on it is contagious to her!

#thirteenth doctor x reader #thirteenth doctor imagines #thirteenth doctor imagine #13th doctor x reader #13th doctor imagine #13th doctor imagines #doctor who imagine #doctor who x reader #thirteenth doctor x y/n #13th doctor x y/n #autistic!reader #neurodivergent!reader #my imagines

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analieninabox · 2 years

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Pet Names With The Doctors (9-13):

Ninth would mostly use your real name, but when Jack is around expect him to go all out on pet names.

“Hello my Star”

“What-“

“What’s wrong Darling?”

“Why are you using pet names?”

He’d refuse to say exactly why, and keep averting attention by saying things like “it’s because I love you so much!” Until you finally realised it was because of Jack being there. That’s not to say that he wouldn’t end up sticking to a few names that he liked.

Ten uses pet names a lot. No, seriously, a lot. He likes trying out different ones to see what fits. At first it was a bit frustrating, what with you being on the run from Daleks while he figures out if he prefers “sweetheart” or “My Sweet” (you decided that Sweetheart wad better). But you’d grown to love him casually using them.

Giving you a nickname is actually the first thing he does once he’s regenerated. He just looks at you and calls you by a nickname and then ends up sticking with it. It’s cute actually. Sometimes he’ll be working on the Tardis and will ask you to pass him something, but instead of using your name will respond with a nickname.

“Oh hello Love! Could you pass me that screwdriver?”

He refuses to acknowledge he uses nicknames, but ends up introducing you as them.

“I’m the Doctor, the clever one. This is Clara, the short one, and Y/N the pretty one.”

Yeah, it’s cute.

She uses nicknames more than your actual name. She’s oblivious to the fact she uses them, until you point it out and she pauses in whatever she’s doing to ask you if you like it. Of course, your response would be yes, resulting in her lighting up and deciding from then on to call you every nickname under the sun. The record for most nicknames used in a day is 45 so far. Including some in languages you don’t even recognise.

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multifandomfix · 1 year

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Imagine the Thirteenth Doctor surprising you when you’ve said something brilliant.

By the time you finished saying them, you’d already forgotten the words that came out of your mouth. That was in part because of the Doctor. The way her face absolutely just lit up made you forget just about anything. Whatever you said, it had obviously made her think of something.

“Brilliant!” The word fell from her lips in a smiley, awed sort of way that she was wont to do from time to time. Then she turned to you. “You are completely brilliant, you know that? I mean, I can’t believe I didn’t think of it sooner. Oh, I could just kiss you right now,” she went on.

You easily expected her to ignore her own words, and how they made the heat rush to your cheeks, but what you didn’t see coming was her acting on them. She took your face in her hands and planted a very brief but grateful kiss right to your lips. Clever as she was, she hadn’t even realized she’d done it, the daft woman. But, that was fine. You’d take what you could get, and you’d take it with the biggest smile you were capable of.

Happy Valentine’s Day @callsigncrash

Thirteenth Doctor: @setsuna1415, @casserole-from-dads-asserole, @little-bean99, @littlefoxgirl-13, @becomingthedreamversionofme, @analieninabox, @storytelling-timelord, @chaos-and-food, @callsigncrash, @mxacegrey, @kate-soup, @sammus-white, @lokabrenna0801, @m-rae23, @geekyandgay98

#thirteenth doctor #thirteenth doctor imagine #thirteenth doctor x reader #doctor who #doctor who imagine #request

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lanawinterscigarettes · 26 days

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Gold Dust Woman (Thirteenth Doctor x reader)

Summary: you spend some time reflecting after the Doctor leaves you

Warnings: abandonment, hurt/no comfort, sad angst, implied unrequited love, mentioned strained personal relationships, implied mental health problems

A/N: gold dust woman by fleetwood mac came on the radio earlier and I was struck by instant inspiration. this is really just a short sad thing feat the fabulous stevie nicks tbh

She left. After everything you went through, all the battles, all the journeys, all the sleepless nights spent stargazing and the traveling around the universe, she still left, just like that. Tossed you out like you were garbage. Abandoned you.

There was no one you could go to for comfort, as you'd drifted apart from the family and friends you'd left behind. In all honesty, you thought you'd stay with the Doctor forever, but apparently not.

Salty tears escaped from your eyes and down your cheeks, your vision blurry as you lay curled up in your bed, desperate to forget. Forget everything, that's all you wanted to do. Nothing seemed to matter anymore in your life, because she wasn't there.

The radio played softly in the background, though you didn't pay it much attention; you just had it on for some background noise. You'd grown so used to the sounds of the TARDIS that you now found it increasingly difficult to exist in complete silence.

The sound of Stevie Nicks' melodic voice caught your attention, but especially the song she was singing specifically: Gold Dust Woman. You scoffed at it, listening to the lyrics with a newfound sense of melancholy.

"Well, did she make you cry

Make you break down

Shatter your illusions of love?

And is it over now, do you know how?

Pick up the pieces and go home"

The words seemed to be speaking directly to your broken heart and tarnished soul, leaving you with a feeling that was beyond bittersweet. Everything that Stevie was singing, you experienced. Even now, you could still feel the fresh sting of the Doctor's departure, despite it being over a month since it happened.

You buried your face into your pillow, sighing deeply as a fresh onslaught of tears overtook you. Let's see, she did make me cry and break down, and she shattered my illusions of love, but I don't seem to know how to pick up the pieces, you sarcastically thought, shooting the radio a dirty look before sighing.

The Doctor was your gold dust woman, you realized. And like any gold dust woman, you fell in love with her, and then it ruined you.

"But did she make you cry

Make you break down

Shatter your illusions of love?

And now tell me, is it over now?

Do you know how to pick up the pieces

And go home? Go home, go home"

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penguinwithitsarseonfire · 1 year

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spring breaks loose, the time is near

Pairing: Thirteenth Doctor x Reader

Word Count: 3,297

Warnings: reader is sick but the illness is never specified, so much fluff

Summary: You’re sick. The Doctor finds you in the garden and gives you company, with a hidden mission on getting you to bed.

Request: Do u write for thirteen? Bc I need some fluff. Nothing specific just hundreds of fluff. Drown me in fluff. Have me regenerate in fluff. Let me be gay in le fluff. Fluff.

A/N: Apologies if sick!fics aren’t your thing, I’m currently sick spicy positive which is a whole bag and a half so this is where my brain was leaning when I thought of fluff. I hope you enjoy!!

You loved gardens.

There was something about them that made you feel safe. The warm sun on your face, not too harsh, speckled through the overhanging trees. The sound of the bees flitting through the early spring buds, wrapping around your heavy frame and throbbing mind. The gentle breeze, bringing with it all the familiar smells of home, of the first flowers, and of the bright green leaves that lifted themselves to the sun.

And the sun – oh, the sun. It was moments like this where you understood why sunflowers turned towards it. Why they shaped themselves yellow to match it, why they built themselves taller, spread their petals wider, all to capture as much of the sun as they could.

It was warm.

Fatigue ached at your bones, one the main cons to being sick, you thought. It pulled your fragile limbs into the concrete beneath you, made every innocuous movement, the turn of your head, the blinking of your eyes, as weighted and heavy as the many heavy bags you had been forced to pick up in your lifetime.

And your eyes? They were hit with it the worst.

Your eyes were heavy, drooping like the petals from the irises next to you, the spring weather still too early for them to reach the light. One wrong move, and you wouldn’t be surprised if they fell away from you. You closed your eyes, letting your head rest into your knees – which wasn’t good for your chest, but any other position put too much strain on your body – and let your back capture the sunlight around you.

You had found the garden a few months ago, after talking about – complaining about, rather – on how much you missed a good garden. Travelling with the Doctor was wonderful, really, it truly was, but on days like this, nothing beat a cosy garden.

The Doctor had looked surprised when the garden first appeared. She had been adamant that while it was a “great idea, seriously, would love a bunch of bees in the place – ooh or maybe a bird or two! Always had a fondness for a woodpecker,” that it just wouldn’t be practical.

Yet, the garden was here, and it was a wonderful reprieve from the little sick bubble your bedroom had grown into.

Familiar footsteps floated into your hearing. You didn’t want to look up, comfortable in your huddled position on the ground. The concrete was hard against you, but it reflected the sun onto your arms, which, again, was warm.

An equally familiar clearing of the throat pulled you from your position. You were met with soft eyes and a soft smile, and tried to mimic the smile in turn. You weren’t sure if the Doctor could see it, you couldn’t feel your eyes crease or the warmth of it lift your cheeks. The Doctors gaze grew warmer though, adoring.

You gave her a slow, heavy nod. “Hey Doc,”

The Doctor considered you for a moment. Her hair was slightly curled, wavy and relaxed in the way the Doctor so often wasn’t. She was holding two mugs, one, a mug with dogs printed across the ceramic. Another, painted with the sharpie scribblings of the language from Gallifrey. It was a familiar mug, one the Doctor had made for you in a past face, when she had been a bit more obsessed with bowties, but still loved a fez.

She held out the sharpie mug, giving you a small grin. “Hey, I figured some tea would help.”

You lifted an arm, making a rather pathetic attempt at a grabby hand. Your fingers closed into a fist once, then twice, before collapsing into the ground.

The Doctor chuckled softly and chose to crouch down beside you. She crossed her legs, lightly bumping her shoulder with yours as she passed you the mug. The tea was the perfect colour, just warm and dark enough that you knew she made it right.

“I don’t want to make you sick,” you commented, your voice apologetic.

The Doctor took a sip of her tea, before screwing up her face. “Might have over brewed this sorry,” then turned to you. “I’m a Time Lord y’know, have you ever seen me sick?”

You scrunched up your face at that, forehead creasing in the most dramatic display of emotions you had been successful with since falling sick. You crawled through your mind, searching for a memory – any memory, that even hinted that the Doctor had been sick. You’d known her long enough… so surely.

Except the memories were hazy, pulling away from you with every attempt to burrow deeper.

The Doctor gave you an insufferable, triumphant grin. “See, told you. I’ll be fine.”

You tried not to show how much you adored the way her eyes sparkled when she said it. The worst thing you could do was feed into it.

You took a careful sip of the tea, letting out a small, delighted breath as the warm liquid met your tongue and throat. You hadn’t realised how itchy your throat had been, how your vocal cords clawed against one another, grating and painful. You smiled again, hopefully larger than your earlier one. “It’s perfect, thank you.”

The Doctors grin changed, from smug to silently pleased, and, not for the first time, you wanted to kiss her.

It was moments like this when she made you feel held, when she made you feel cherished.

Clouds pooled above you, snuffing out the sun. It wriggled down your back, making you shiver. In protest, you gave the sky a half-hearted glare.

“How is it,” you mused disappointedly. “That in a perfect ship, in a perfect room, clouds still manage to block the sun?”

A ladybug twirled around you then, and you spilled pearls of laughter. You scrunched up your nose as it came in close to your eyes, and you realised, rather belatedly, that the TARDIS had sent it your way.

You smiled up into the sky, a silent thank you.

“The garden’s mimicking your home’s weather,” the Doctor said. “Doing it in real time too,” her voice was so matter of fact that, for a moment, you almost believed that she had designed the room.

But then your mind fell back to the look of surprise that had stretched across her face when she had found you in it, marvelling at the sunset that pooled itself over the skyline, oranges, pinks, and reds tangled in the clouds.

It fell into her saying “the amount of work it would take to build an entire ecosystem isn’t worth it,” the memory hazy and brittle. Yet she had stood there, eyes fond as you first took her in, standing under the setting sky and bubbling with excitement, and you weren’t sure she hadn’t been involved.

So, you tested it, letting your mouth turn into a conspiratorial smirk. “How do you know that?”

The Doctor shrugged, waving her free hand. “It’s pretty obvious, don’t you think? It feels like you.”

Your head cocked to the side, taking in her words. The garden felt warm, safe, but you hadn’t realised it felt like… you. Or, more importantly, that the Doctor had a place in her mind that, when reminded of you, recognised it as a feeling.

You hadn’t realised you were that special.

The Doctors voice dropped lower then. If she were anyone else, you would dare to suggest it was shy. “I’m glad you like the tea.”

“Of course, I do,” you said. “You always make it how I like it, and it’s in my favourite mug and everything.”

The Doctor brightened then, her face moved into a look of surprise, eyebrows raised and smile delighted, the same look she had given you when you had first found the garden. “That’s your favourite mug?”

Your eyebrows knitted together in confusion. For you, it was obvious. “Well, you made it for me, so of course it is,” you said, before adding. “Even if I don’t know what it means.”

The Doctors face matched yours, eyebrows drawing to her nose, giving it that familiar scrunch that had never, not once, failed to make your heart freeze. “Nah, I totally told you, didn’t I?”

And you let out a soft laugh. “No Doctor, you never have.”

And she shrugged again, face falling into… you couldn’t quite describe it. You mind was hazy, and it couldn’t pick the careful blank expression the Doctor had schooled her features into.

She looked away from you then, gesturing around you. “You like the garden?”

And it was your turn to frown again, but you were used to the way the Doctor would flip a conversation, peel away from it the moment anything got too sentimental for her.

Which made you burn with curiosity – what did the mug say?

You didn’t press it, instead, turning towards the view. Now, the garden was lovely. It wasn’t any garden you recognised. Pots lined the brick wall behind you, stood on the small patch of cement where you sat. By your side was a long iron bench, the metal twisted to mimic tree branches.

Above you, a tall oak shielded you from the sun, allowing just enough of the sunlight to peak through the crack, warming your face and your back. But it was the small stream that you couldn’t quite get over. It spilled from next to the doorway, small enough that you could walk through, and the water would barely hit your ankles. Steppingstones no larger than a dinner plate weaved through it, and you had taken dizzying steps on them only moments before.

Stretched beyond you was simply green. Plants spilled around you, wildflowers, shrubbery, and a few alien plants you couldn’t identify, with purple stalks and glowing leaves.

It really was wonderful.

Slowly, the clouds parted again, and you turned your face up into the sun, basking in the warmth.

“I love it,” you breathed, eyes closed as they met the light. “It’s so warm in here. I was going stir-crazy in my room.”

The Doctor let out a breath that you swore sounded like relief, bright and airy, like it was lifting a weight from her shoulders. “Good, I’m really glad about that.”

You peeled open an eye, turning to her slightly so you could look at her. You parroted past works back to her. “And here I thought a garden wasn’t practical.”

The Doctor shrugged, not catching that you were watching her. Her ears went red, and she subtly brushed her hair over them. “Yeah well, the TARDIS does crazy things when I’m not looking. She’s always trying to replace the pool.”

Once, you had sat with her in the console room, papers from different notebooks scattered around you, hastily drawn, and just as hastily torn from their bindings. They had been filled with ideas; a popcorn room, an extension to the library, notes upon notes on how to upgrade the pool.

Form memory, it had never been the TARDIS who was building or designing the rooms in here.

You closed your eye, tilting your head back to capture more of the sun. Careful eyes fell onto your frame, warm and familiar. You could feel the way the Doctors gaze tracked your face, your hair, your hands clasped securely on your tea.

Your face went warm, flushed on your nose, your cheeks, and down your neck. You hoped the Doctor chalked it up to the sun, and not the… well. The everything you felt for this mad Time Lord in a box.

A box she, occasionally, had far more control over than she gave herself credit for.

“I really do love it,” you said again, voice as quiet as the nearby stream. “It feels like home.”

You let the weight of that statement hang in the air, as heavy and as full as your fatigued bones. Your it feels like you, was left unsaid.

You took another sip of your tea, delighting in how perfectly made it really was. It was warm, but not to the extent that it would burn your tongue, and when it came from the Doctor, it was never bitter. The Doctor had always taken careful consideration of your tea, and had never brewed it wrong since… Since giving you this mug, actually.

“And the tea,” you added, pausing to take another sip. “It’s wonderful.”

You heard the smile in her voice, the self-satisfied grin that you never wanted to admit you loved. “Well, I’ve gotten pretty handy with the tea, haven’t had a falling out with the kettle since…” she paused then, voice trailing into memory. “Think I might’ve been Scottish then.”

You laughed then, because of course that was the case. You thought of the Doctors wild hair and equally perturbed temper back then, and yeah, you could easily picture just how the Doctor would have a falling out with a kettle.

Your laughter bubbled into a violent cough. It wrang through your frame, twisting into your chest with stringy hands, gripping into your lungs and your sternum with white knuckled fists. The cough racked up into your throat, your body bowling forward, some of your tea sloshing out of the mug.

You winced, groaning at the sudden onslaught. Belatedly, you looked up at the Doctor, whose horrified expression fell into one of concern. “Your coughing has gotten worse.”

You shrugged. “It happens. I’m sick.”

The Doctor nodded, eyes going hard as her expression fell into what you had dubbed as her ‘thinking face’. It was a familiar sight, one that, despite the features, whether it was a blonde head, bushy eyebrows, or a particularly large chin, caused the Doctors face to tighten, eyebrows creasing and mouth falling into a tight line.

You had memorised all the Doctors expressions, the way they echoed in her hazel eyes and bright smile. You tried not to think about why you had done so.

“We need to get you to bed,” she said finally, her voice with the same punch of finality as she gave the fam when finalising a plan, or when she was telling someone off when they did something particularly dumb when she was saving the day.

Yet, you fought it. You let out a near petulant groan, letting your head rock back into your knees. “But it’s warm here.”

“It can be warm in bed too,” she countered. “Where you should be resting. You humans, your bones are so frail, you need to let your body mend”

You picked your head up simply to glare at her, but it was half-hearted at best. “My bones aren’t the problem here.”

You ignored the fatigue, how it pressed into your arms, your legs, and the curve of your spine.

The Doctor raised an eyebrow. “Humour me? I made you tea.”

And yeah, she had done that, hadn’t she.

With a dramatic sigh, you nodded. “I suppose rest would probably help.”

The smile the Doctor gave you was reward enough. It spilled out from her, brighter and warmer than the sun that sat above you. You would do anything for that smile.

The Doctor stood, offering you her hand. You took it carefully, gripping tight as she helped pull you into a stand. Dizziness clawed across your vision, spotty and hazy, threatening to spin you downwards.

In an instant, the Doctor’s arms were around you, her own mug of tea forgotten on the cement. Her hold on you was solid, wrapped tight against your frame, warm against your waist and your chest.

Her voice was like honey against the base of your ear, pooling and circling down your spine. “You okay,” she asked, and it rocked you forward, making you shiver.

You nodded belatedly. “Yeah,” you said, and you couldn’t tell if your breathlessness was because of your illness, or because of her. “I’m okay.”

As close to you as she was, you felt, rather than saw the Doctor’s nod in acknowledgement.

“Let’s get you to bed then,” she said, her breath falling onto the back of your neck, making the hair there stand.

Still gripping your mug, the Doctor guided you over the steppingstones.

You really loved this garden. The grass was soft under your bare feet, the sun wrapped around your frame, and with your hand in the Doctors, it felt like this garden truly was made for you.

And oh.

Your voice was small when you tested it again. “You said a garden was impractical,” you said. “Yet you did it anyway.”

The Doctor froze, her grip on you tightening ever so slightly. The water lapped at her ankles, just missing the hem of her trousers. Her reply was clipped when she spoke, embarrassed. “Rule 1.”

The Doctor lies.

It was a half-hearted response, and one you scoffed at that. Her rules, as she had once called them, weren’t something she really often referred to these days. Well, besides the no-wandering off rule, but that wasn’t something she really stuck with herself.

Besides, the Doctor wasn’t often one to lie after doing something to make you happy. It was baffling.

“You said it wasn’t worth it,” you pressed.

The Doctor ignored you, instead saying. “C’mon, my feet are getting wet, and I’m wearing socks.”

It was like blinking. One moment, you were in the garden, the sun warm and the Doctors grip firm. Next, you were falling into bed, body collapsing into the pillows and sheets that were stacked against the head.

Your body practically melted, the bed capturing every ache in your bones, every fatigued and weary muscle. You let a small, easy groan, letting your mattress and blankets wrap around your frame.

You wouldn’t admit to the Doctor that she was right. But to yourself? Yeah, she was right. Rest is just what you needed.

Your weariness overtook you, clouding over your eyes and pulling down your neck. Your body was as tired as your mind, and although a part of you, the part that wanted to stay awake for the mere pleasure of spending more time with the Doctor, protested loudly in your mind. It was quickly stifled by how tired you were.

A lazy yawn consumed you, reaching through your frame as you buried your head into your pillow. You mumbled a soft thank you to the Doctor, but the sound came out muffled, like a ‘thnkoo’ than any discernible word.

You heard her chuckle then, voice low and fond, and her hand found your back. She moved her hand over your shoulder blades and into the centre of your back, slowly and languidly. Almost unconsciously, almost, because you loved it,you leaned into her.

“Get some sleep,” you heard her say, as sleep danced across the edges of your mind.

You nodded, your heartbeat slowing, your mind quieting.

In the silence, as you began to waltz with sleep, not quite unconscious, but not awake enough to trust your sense of hearing, your sense of feeling. A light pressure met your forehead, brushing against the space just above where your eyebrows met. The kiss was warm, safe, and if you had the energy, you would have leaned into it.

The Doctors fingers brushed against your hair, tucking some loose strands behind your ear. She paused for a moment, as if debating something, before, just as softly, she kissed you again, in the place where your face met your ear.

“The mug,” the Doctor spoke softly, voice so quiet that, were her lips not next to your ear, you may have missed it all together. “I wrote ‘I cherish you,’ that’s what it says.”

Your tumbled into sleep, mind turning into a haze, the Doctors final words falling through you like water through a sieve.

“You’ve always been worth everything,” she said. “I cherish you.”

A/N^2: Just a reminder I’m taking requests! Please read my rules before sending anything in. Also a HUGE thank you to everyone who sprinted with me in the thirsting for thirteen server, I adore you all so so much, and this fic wouldn’t have been written otherwise.

#the doctor x reader #thirteenth doctor imagine #13th doctor x reader #thirteenth doctor x reader #13th doctor

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theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction · 4 months

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Imagine not liking the Doctor’s plan to work with Agent O...

“Oh! You’re here. Perfect!” You walked around the console, arms wrapped with multicoloured wires, and proceeded over to Ryan where you transferred the mess into his arms.

“Uh, what’s all this then?” The young man asked with a frown. Yaz and Graham squinted at the odd behaviour and watched you grin with wide eyes.

“I’ve finally created the Miniaturisation Materialiser out of some coat hangers and a car tyre in the basement.”

“We have a basement?” Ryan’s question fell on deaf ears as you led the trio to what looked like a toaster sitting on the console. The appliance was hooked up to several wires that ran along the TARDIS floor into Ryan’s arms before disappearing below the panels under their feet.

You grabbed two slices of toast from a little glove compartment and placed them in the toaster, pressing the small knob down. There was a small sizzle until the toaster sparked small white electricity for a second and the bell rang.

The toast popped up and Yaz, Ryan, and Graham leaned in to take a closer look.

“They’ve shrunk to the size of a grape.” Yaz commented.

You nodded and spun around with excitement. “I know! Isn’t it great?”

Ryan chuckled but Graham tilted his head.

“It’s wonderful Y/n, truly. But wouldn’t it make more sense to create something that makes food bigger?”

You squinted curiously, pondering over the suggestion. You lifted the toaster and scanned its outer casing.

“Like an Enhanced Extrapolation Enlarger ... yes, I think we can manage this easily.” You reached back and opened your hand, palm facing up. “Graham, give me your shoe.”

“My what?”

“Y/n, I hope you’re powering that thing safely.” The Doctor parented as she entered her travelling vehicle. She often found that when she left you alone for a day, you had created something new.

Nodding, you lowered the device and took the wires back from Ryan. “Don’t get your sonic in a knot. I rerouted the comms through the swimming pool and the navigation systems are funnelling from the carousel. All temporary.”

“Huh.” The Doctor mused as she reached the satellite screen. “Maybe leave the carousel funnel, I’m getting some great readings. Points for innovation.”

You beamed with pride. Turning to your friends, you gestured for them to walk to an open panel by the stairs.

“So, how was it? I thought you were going to be back later.”

“O found something on the aliens.” Yaz replied.

“O?” You wondered, dropping the wires into the floor. The TARDIS doors opened once more and a familiar face walked in. “Oh.”

You shoulders slumped when the guest entered the TARDIS, his eyes filled with wonder and awe at the interior. Spotting you, O smiled as he made his way over to you and stuck out his hand.

You eyed the friendly expression and stared at the open handshake. Then you turned on your heel and called out to the woman behind the console.

“Really?”

The Doctor’s head popped up quickly at the question, her furrowed brows quickly darting up when she realised what the issue was.

“Y/n, play nice.”

“But-”

“We need all the help we can get.”

Laying down her expectations, the doctor disappeared once more. You exhaled loudly and looked back at O. One smile from him and you rolled your eyes before walking off in the opposite direction.

Graham caught the tension flying from the pair and gently tapped O’s arm. “Why are they so mad at you?”

O shook his head with a small smile. “You know, I don’t think they could quite figure me out.”

Masterlist here

#theladyofmanyfandoms #theladyofmanyfandomsfanfiction #gif is not mine #doctor who imagine #doctor who x reader #thirteen x reader #thirteen imagine #thirteenth doctor imagine #thirteen doctor x reader #the master x reader #the master imagine #dhawan!master x reader #dhawan!master imagine

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elijahslittleprincess · 11 months

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bizarredalek · 1 year

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Phone Call

Thirteenth Doctor x Reader

Word count: 10,683

Summary: Reader suffers a severe injury and in their final moments they call the Doctor for one final goodbye

Warnings: hurt/comfort, reader gets shot (twice), blood, nightmares

A/N: I’ve had this posted on my ao3 since August lmao I kept forgetting to put it here oop

Call me whenever you need or if you’re ready to come back to the Tardis.

The Doctors voice had been ringing in your head for a few days now. You had asked her to drop you off at home for a bit because you had some errands you needed to do for a few days or so, and she understood. She made sure you had the Tardis phone number – her number, for when you were all set to come back.

‘One more day should be enough,’ you thought.

You were walking back to your house; you had just spent the day with your family. Thankfully, the Doctor put you back in the correct time, so it’s only been a few days since you had last seen them, and not a year or so later – that would have been a disaster. You weren’t sure how long it had been since you started travelling with the Doctor, but you knew you were starting to miss your family, and it was nice seeing them again.

“Home sweet home,” you said to no one in particular as your house came into view, but the words felt empty and wrong on your tongue.

You felt that since being on the Tardis that special blue box had become more your home than the building in front of you. You sighed and trudged up to the front door. When you fished out your keys out of your pocket and put it in the lock, the twist of the key didn’t bring the familiar click of the door unlocking.

The door was already unlocked, and you were positive that you had locked it when you left earlier that day. The door slowly creaked open as you pushed your way inside, sending an uncomfortable chill down your spine. Your first thought was that there was an intruder in your place.

You really hoped you were wrong.

Sneaking your way through the hallways you made sure to grab the first thing you could think of as a weapon, cutting through the kitchen in case you did find someone in your house. Admittedly, it was a frying pan, not the most menacing of weapons, you thought, but if you did find that someone had broken in, you reckoned you could give one hell of a swing on them.

You didn’t have to look very far when you started to hear drawers and things being opened in the living room. You cursed under your breath, it was already too late to turn back now, you were sure if you tried to back out of the house whatever it was that was rummaging around your space would hear you. The thought of calling the Doctor for help briefly crossed your mind, but you shook that thought away. This was probably nothing.

Please be an animal, please be an animal.

You peeked the corner to see it was not in fact an animal, but a kid, maybe a teenager, that was searching around your belongings. In his left hand he held a gun. Your heart stopped in dread thinking that if he caught you he probably wouldn’t hesitate to shoot you, whether it was purposeful or accidental.

‘What to do. What to do,’ you thought.

You considered rushing up behind him and knocking him out, but how could you wack a kid on the head before trying to sneak back out the front door to call for the police. Either option would probably end with you dead in your house. You unconsciously took a step back away from the living room, accidentally knocking your foot into the cabinet. The blood in your face drained, all colour gone. Your heart beat loud in your ears, louder than the rushed footsteps coming at you.

The kid robber rounded the corner and drew his gun on you. You froze. You could see the weapon in his hand tremble, and you guessed that he must’ve been to breaking and entering peoples’ homes. You could probably talk yourself out of harm. You very slowly placed the pan in your hand on the ground by your feet and stood straight with your hands in front of you.

“Listen,” you started to say. “I don’t have a lot of valuables, but you can have whatever you found, alright?”

His arm started to falter and drop, and you let out a huge sigh of relief, but a sudden loud noise from outside startled the both of you. The boy gasped in fright, his finger squeezing the trigger. The loud bang made you jump.

At first you had thought that he missed, and you almost relaxed thinking that you were going to be okay.

Almost

Something wet began to soak through your shirt, and you looked down in horror as your clothing dyed itself red. Your legs trembled under your weight, and you collapsed on the floor.

The action startled the kid again, his attention having been on the direction of the noise. His grasped flinched, your body jerking as another bullet pierced your frame. It was higher this time; the first one hit your stomach and the second just under where your heart was. Both bullets did not go through all the way or cleanly.

You were confused that you weren’t in any pain; was your adrenaline so high that it just blocked it out?

You laid on the floor in shock. You were just shot, you were shot by a kid, and he just panicked and ran to the door. You wanted to stop him, to get him to come back and call for help, but your voice refused to work. You could only let out short breaths, your lungs aching as you did so.

Your shirt was a deep red colour now, nearly covering the whole material, soaked in your blood. Your injuries felt like how you could only describe as a burning fire, and that fire was slowly trying to consume you. Your hands shook violently as you tried to put pressure on the wound, a cry of pain slipping past your lips.

What were you going to do?

Call me whenever you need.

A surge of determination overtook the fire and you forced yourself to get off the floor. You stood on shaking legs and stumbled your way to where your home phone was in the kitchen – a quick pat of your pockets told you your cellphone was missing from you person, either it fell out or it was stolen. Regardless, you didn’t care very much in this moment.

You grabbed a dishcloth to press against the wound against your chest, which was bleeding faster than the other. Pressing with as much pressure as you could muster, you dialed a familiar number that had been on your mind all day. You hoped that the person on the other side would pick up.

“Hello, the Tardis speaking!” the Doctors voice was easily recognizable through the speaker.

You smiled at the sound of her voice. It almost seemed to ease the agonizing pain in your body. You slid down the wall to sit on the floor, the phone still pressed firmly against your ear.

“H-hey, Doctor,” you replied, clearing your throat to hide the tremble wanting to come out.

The Doctor excitedly said your name and you smiled even though she couldn’t see it. “Hey! I wasn’t expecting your call for at least another day. Change in plans?”

You winced, muffling your cry of pain as you pressed harder on you wound. “Ah, not really. I just wanted to catch up with you, ask how your day has been. I just missed you, you know? Haven’t seen you in a while, h-how you been?”

If the Doctor had any idea you were hiding something from her, or that something was wrong, she didn’t show it when she talked. “Oh, you, know, I’m alright. Been here and there and, well, everywhere. Saved the universe, the usual.”

You laughed, a little breathlessly, into the phone. “You always have the craziest adventures don’t you, Doctor?”

She also laughed, a beautiful sound, you wished she’d do it more. “Yeah, well, they’re no fun without you. When are you planning on coming back to the Tardis? I’ve got something fun planned. Imagine; sparkling blue waterfalls that fall from clouds and beaches of the softest sands.”

“Sounds wonderful,” you said almost sadly, a beautiful place that you will never get to see. You looked down to see the blood-soaked cloth and took note that the blood was not slowing down or stopping, the once white material was a deep dark red and poured down your side to form a puddle underneath you. Damnit this is bad. You were getting lightheaded and dizzy. You were glad that you were already sitting down, you didn’t want the Doctor to hear you stumble and fall. Pulling your shirt up to really look at your wound you saw the red angry skin that greeted you. “I was thinking soon. I’ve done all that I needed to do, figured I could use a day to relax, you know?”

“Absolutely!” You wished you could have seen the way her eyes lit up. “Just give me a shout, yeah?”

“Y-yeah,” you nodded, pulling your shirt back down. It was stupid not to tell the Doctor that you were hurt, dying even, you knew you were, but you didn’t want her to worry about you. You couldn’t do that to her, even though you thought it just as cruel, if not more, that she would most likely find you after you had already passed.

“So, tell me about your latest universe save,” you asked, trying to take your mind off the numbness in your fingers.

And so, the Doctor began her tale, and you clung to every word that she spoke. “Well, it was thousands of years in the future, right, and I went to go visit a planet that I used to go to all the time. Anyway, the place was beautiful, waters as clear as air you can almost see all the way to the bottom, so clear you almost couldn’t even see it, and the air was so fresh, and it smelled like vanilla if you could believe it!”

“Wow,” you whispered. Another place you’ll never get to see.

As you continued to listen to the Doctors story your mind couldn’t help but wander. You started to think about all the amazing adventures you had with the Doctor, how great your life had become after you met her, all those worlds you’ve seen, the lives you saved, seeing the people you’ve learned about in books and school. All the running you did, and, oh man, did you two go far.

Then, you thought about her. You thought about her smile as it lit up the darkest room, her eyes that held the universe in them, and her hearts that held so much kindness.

Tears slowly slipped down your cheeks. It was getting harder and harder to breathe, you couldn’t get any air into your lungs, and you hoped you weren’t wheezing into the Doctors ear, hoping that you didn’t interrupt her story.

The numbness grew from your finger, you could barely feel the phone in your hand, and it travelled up your arms and down your legs. Your arm had begun to shake and tremble, making it difficult to keep the phone up, but you held on, you held on for her.

You knew you were never going to see her again, and you accepted that, but as much as you wanted to tell her what happened to you, how you needed her, you knew it was too late for her to help you now. It was up to the Doctor if she decided if she wanted to time travel to save you before you got shot, but you wouldn’t hold any hate towards her if she decided not to, and you were happy that she was there to pick up the phone.

Your body jerked when the Doctor suddenly called your name in your ear. “You still there? Haven’t gone to sleep on me have you?”

You were confused at what had happened. You didn’t remember closing your eyes. “Y-yeah, I’m here. Sorry, I think I dozed off for a second.”

“Hope my story wasn’t boring you.”

“No!” you told her. “No, as if anything you say could be boring.”

You could feel your heartbeat pick up faster trying to work overtime with the blood it had left over in your body to work with, to keep you alive. This is bad. Please, please hold on a little longer, not yet.

The Doctor hummed through the speaker. “It is getting quite late for you. You should go to bed, and I’ll see you later, yeah?”

No please don’t go.

You looked up at the window and saw that the sky was in fact getting darker, and you wondered how long it’s been since you got home.

“Not yet,” you told her, hiding the hitch in your voice as you shifted. “I want to hear more of your stories.”

“Well, there’s plenty of times for stories when you get back to the Tardis,” she told you.

A single tear slipped down your cheek. “Where’s one place you always wanted to go, Doctor?”

A moment of silence. “I don’t know, when there are so many places to visit it’s hard to pick just one. What about you? Where’s one place you want to go?”

You laughed; eyes transfixed on the red puddle that slowly covered white tile floors. “The place of cloud waterfalls and soft beaches.”

Whatever the Doctor said next fell on deaf ears as you zoned out, and it was getting difficult to keep your eyes open.

“You should go to bed,” was the next thing you heard.

You nodded, even though she couldn’t see you. “Y-yeah, I-I’ll see you later. Goodbye, Doctor.”

With a goodnight and goodbye of her own you kept the phone to your ear until you heard the familiar click of the call ending. You let your arm drop, the back of your hand landing on the red stained floor underneath you.

“I’m sorry,” you mumbled tiredly, your body slumping against the counter beside you. “I’m sorry…Doctor.”

Death’s door had opened for you and his skeletal hand reached out to beckon you into his peaceful embrace, an embrace that promised that you wouldn’t feel this pain anymore. You weren’t going to fight it anymore, you held on long enough to say goodbye to the Doctor, your life was filled with adventure after meeting her and you wouldn’t have asked for anything else. You wouldn’t stop the smile that lifted your face, and this time you let your eyes fully close.

The Doctor on the other hand stared at her phone in puzzlement. Her hearts were telling her something was off. Everything screamed at her to go check up on you, even the Tardis whirred her own concern urging her pilot to go. The Doctor, at first, thought she was overreacting, of course everything was fine, you are fine. She didn’t want to be bothersome when it most likely nothing but…then again there was something about your call that didn’t sit well with her.

Something is wrong, something is wrong, something is wrong!

“I know!” the Doctor gave in, already rushing around the console room.

The Tardis had already set a course for your house, and she did not waste any time, not when your life may be on the line. As soon as she landed the Doctor ran out of the Time Machine, the Tardis just barely having enough time to open the doors for her.

The Doctor ran into your house, your front door was wide open which made her hearts drop into her stomach in fear. You never left your door open. Her boots thundered across the hardwood floor of your home as she shouted your name, trying to get you to reply to her. She hoped she was just overreacting and that you’ll come downstairs to greet her asking her what she was doing here, but you didn’t, the house remained still and silent while the Doctors voice echoed through empty halls.

Her voice died in her throat, her feet stopping dead in their tracks. She reached the kitchen, and there she found you. She felt tears in her eyes as she looked at your still body. You were lying limp against the counter beside you, your face was drained of all colour. Seemingly lifeless. Your arm laid across your stomach holding a cloth against you, your other hand holding the phone you used to call her. Your fingers were stained red.

Her hearts ached painfully in her chest when she looked at the large deep red puddle of blood that pooled under your body, and her eyes followed the red trail from the kitchen to the living room where the red had started.

“No, no, no,” the Doctor rushed to your side and pulled you into her arms.

She cradled your head against her and wrapped her arm around your shoulders to support you. She whispered your name a few times, her voice cracking but trying to be strong.

She tapped your leg to get a reaction from you, a noise, a twitch, something, but you didn’t even flinch. The Doctor urgently placed her fingers on your neck and held her breath, hoping for a pulse.

“Please,” she begged. “Please.”

A faint ba-bump under her hand made the Doctor release the breath she had been holding. It was weak and barely there, but she could feel your shallow breathing against her neck, and that was enough for the Doctor to know you were alive.

She scooped the rest of you into her arms, standing slowly and carefully, so she didn’t hurt you more. Your blood stained her clothes while she carried you to the Tardis, but she didn’t care, the only thing that mattered to the Doctor was saving your life. You were the only thing that was on her mind, and she refused to let you go. She ignored the Tardis’s whirrs of concern and worry as she assessed your condition.

The Doctor took you straight to the infirmary room and put you down on the medical bed. She whispered strings of apologies when you whimpered, the movement jostling you. It was the first sound you made since she found you, but you still remained unconscious.

The Doctor made quick work to tear your shirt off of you so she could see your injuries. It wasn’t hard for her to find the bullets wounds in your chest and stomach, both were still bleeding pretty badly, and her hearts ached again.

Why didn’t you tell her? She could have helped you! She banished the thought. She couldn’t be angry. She wouldn’t.

The bullet wounds didn’t have an exit point, and a quick scan confirmed the Doctor’s theory that the bullets were still inside you. She knew that if she was to save you, she’d have to do surgery. She had to stop you from going somewhere she couldn’t follow.

The Doctor left your side to gather her necessary tools and anesthetic. It would keep you sleeping, and hopefully you wouldn’t feel any more pain. You groaned, catching the Doctors attention. She had stepped away too soon, your eyes blinking open.

She was by your side in the blink of your eyes. The Doctor took note of how unfocused they were, your pupils barely dilating when she shined the light of her sonic over them. You had lost a lot of blood.

She placed her hand on your pale cheek, whispering your name. “Can you hear me?”

You blinked again, and the Doctor watched your face scrunch up as you tried to speak. Under different circumstances, she would’ve found the expression cute. “D-Doctor?”

“Hey,” she smiled, moving her hand up to brush your hair back. “How are you feeling?”

“You’re not here,” you said instead.

The Doctor was taken aback. How could you think that she wasn’t there with you? “What do you mean? I’m right here.”

You shook your head, the motion used up a lot of your remaining energy. “No, the Doctor is still in the Tardis far… far away.”

The Doctor knew you wouldn’t believe her no matter how often she told you that she was real. You were so delirious from blood loss it would be hard to convince you. Instead, she brought all her tools to your side and quickly got the anesthesia ready for you.

“What would you tell her if she was here?” the Doctor asked you.

You groaned in pain. “That ‘m sorry. Didn’t … didn’t want ‘er to worry a-about me.” You took in a shaky breath. “I-It hurts.” “I know,” the Doctor shushed you, running her hand through your hair. “I’m going to help you, okay?” The Doctor placed the mask over your mouth and nose. “Take as many deep breathes as you can manage.”

“Just let me go,” you whispered, voice muffled from the mask.

“Absolutely not,” the Doctor said. “Just take a breath and the next time you wake you’ll be better.”

You did as she told, taking in as much air as your lungs would allow. You noticed how you weren’t feeling as much pain as before. The fire that burned your skin was extinguishing, you could barely keep your eyes open.

“I’m scared,” you mumbled, your eyes blinking tiredly at the blonde angel above you.

The Doctor inhaled sharply. Her thumb gently brushing away a tear that you probably weren’t even aware was falling down your cheek.

“It’ll be okay,” she told you, watching as you finally succumbed to a deep long sleep. Hopefully, it was a sleep where you weren’t hurting, where you could forget about your injuries. If only for a moment.

The Doctor kept the mask over your face to keep you under until she was done the operation. She hovered her sonic over your body, finding the exact place where the bullets were. The one in your stomach didn’t appear to have caused any severe internal damages, but the other… the other was buried deep into your chest. It had nicked your heart and would move and damage more of you with every breath you took. She took note of your ever slowing heartbeat. The Doctor moved to grab her tools and she took a deep breath.

“You’ll be okay.”

And she started working.

~~~

Hours went by until the Doctor finally allowed herself to rest when. Your vitals had finally stabilized. You were still unconscious on the bed, looking almost peaceful. If it wasn’t for your cold pale skin and bandage wrapped torso, one would think you were merely sleeping.

There were a few close calls where your heart had stopped, but she was able to bring you back every time. The Doctor watched your chest subtly move up and down with your breaths; her only reassurance that you were still alive, save for the rhythmic beeping that mimicked your heartbeat. Her own hearts clenched and skipped a beat of their own as she took in your old bloody clothes and the two bullets she had removed during surgery.

The Doctor sighed, cleaning the mess before leaving to quickly change her clothes. The blood, your blood, had already dried on her. It made her sick. She hadn’t been there to protect you.

Unable to handle the sight of stained red and brown on light blue, she threw off her coat, making short work of changing into cleaner clothes before she made her way back to your side. She had to be there for you now.

‘You were fine. You are fine.’

The Doctor brought a chair to your bedside and sat down. You weren’t out of the woods yet. The Doctor needed to know you were okay, that she was aware of your condition, make sure it didn’t drastically drop.

She carefully took your limp hand in hers and started to run her thumb over the back of your hand. Whether it was supposed to be a comfort for you or her, she wasn’t sure. “Please be okay,” she whispered.

You didn’t respond, of course you didn’t respond. How could you, you were lost in your body, and it was unknown when you would wake again.

The Doctor sighed and rested her head next to your arm, absentmindedly drawing patterns on the back of your hand. Perhaps she’d allow herself a few moments to rest her eyes. It didn’t take long for the faint beeping behind her to lull her into sleep.

The bed trembled, forcing the Doctors eyes open. She shook herself of her sleep haze and rushed to stand, checking what was wrong. Your body was shaking, jerking in violent motions. Your face was twisted in pain, marred by the blood coming out of the side of your mouth.

Your vitals were high, up to levels the Doctor thought not possible for a human. She tried to do a quick scan of you, but her sonic wasn’t working. She hit it against her palm, but only got a small spark of life before it died again. In a huff, she threw it to the side and tore the bandages off of you.

She froze.

The skin around your wounds were a deep purple and black in colour, it almost seemed to come out of the bullet wounds themselves. The Doctor had never seen anything like this before, it shouldn’t be happening, there should be no reason this was happening to you.

She ran around the infirmary looking for something, anything, to help you, to stop this from spreading further. A long, dull electronic note made her pause. She looked over at you, your body motionless in the bed.

The machine monitoring your heart had flat-lined.

“No, no, no!” the Doctor cried. “Come on!”

She ran over, trying CPR to get your heart beating again, to get you breathing. Why was this happening, this shouldn’t be happening! All this fancy tech and advanced medicines and she was losing you. She couldn’t lose you! What would she do without you? She had so many things she wanted to show you. Stupid, stupid Doctor! She should’ve been there with you; she could’ve stopped this! Her and her useless big brain and she couldn’t save you-

The Doctor jolted upright, and she tumbled out of her chair. Her eyes were cloudy and unfocused. Her hearts drummed loudly in her ears, almost drowning out the electronic beeping of the heartbeat monitor. The Doctors face scrunched up in confusion, why could she hear a heartbeat monitor?

The fog cleared in her mind - your heartbeat monitor! She stood on shaky legs, still half asleep, and looked at the machine. Its steady, monotonous rhythmic beeping calming her. She took a deep breath to slow her hammering hearts.

Her eyes moved from the machine to your still form, just able to see your chest slowly rising and falling with your breathing. The Doctor couldn’t help but reach out to place her hand right over your heart, feeling the weak thumping under her palm. It was small, but it was there, and it was getting better.

“Just a dream,” she said.

The Doctor ran a hand over her face, wiping away the lingering sleep and nightmare, and sighed. The nightmare left her shaken, her hand never leaving its place over your heart, helping calm hers down. She jumped when the Tardis hummed down at her.

“It’s okay,” she assured the Time Machine. “I need to find out what happened.”

With a final check on you she went to the console room. The Doctor pulled down levers and set the date for the same day, but hours before she got the call from you. The Tardis wheezed and trembled when she landed, but before the Doctor could run out the front doors again the monitor lit up.

“What?” the Doctor asked and going back to read it.

The words “Fixed Point” stared back at her and the Doctor felt like she couldn’t breathe. She couldn’t stop you from being hurt. Couldn’t stop the pain you were feeling right now.

The Doctor was furious, not at you, never at you. No, she was furious at whoever it was that shot you, so furious she turned away from the monitor and marched out of the Tardis.

She was parked on the other side of the street, tucked away out of sight, but your house was the only thing the Doctor could see. She watched past you stand on your front step and lock the door, before leaving to go visit your family. It was hard for the Doctor to watch you walk down the street, completely unaware of what was waiting for you when you came back.

It was hard too for the Doctor to not go warn you, to tell you not to go home, to do anything to keep you from your fate. But she couldn’t, she couldn’t do anything, and it was the worst pain she had ever felt.

She didn’t know how long it was that she waited there waiting for something to happen, and it wasn’t until that the sun had begun to set that she noticed a boy, he looked to be in his teens, trying to make his way up the steps of your house and fiddle with the lock.

Rage began to build inside the Doctor when she realized that this is who shot you, and she very nearly went to confront him - but she was stopped in place.

Fixed point, fixed point, fixed point.

Her jaw clenched and her feet stayed glued to the concrete below watching the kid sneak into your home. It was maybe an hour or so before she saw you walking back. You seemed less energetic than when she saw you leave, your feet dragging behind you.

You glanced at your house with a look of unfamiliarity in your eye, like you didn’t want to go back in. She watched you walk up the steps, and oh so badly wanted to run over and stop you from going in. When you disappeared inside the house the Doctor waited … And waited … And waited, until-

Bang!

The Doctor trembled in anger. She hated this, but she had to know. Her feet were glued to the ground despite her attempts to lean forward to run in and stop this.

Bang!

The second one. The worst one. All time seemed to have stopped after that second shot. She watched as the shooter ran out of your house in a panic, leaving your front door open, and you inside. The Doctor couldn’t take it anymore, couldn’t handle knowing that currently in the past you were laying in your house bleeding and dying and alone.

She forced herself to turn around and go back into the Tardis, where present you was injured and unconscious, but alive. When the Tardis doors shut behind her the Doctor collapsed on the floor, her mind replaying the scene over and over again. It felt like her hearts broke and died with both shots that nearly took you from her.

~~~ You groaned as your consciousness came back to you. You felt numb, and every movement ached and protested. You tried shifting around to ease the tension in your body, but a pained gasp left you, your back arching in an attempt to get away from the fire that threatened to burn through you.

You didn’t hear the door sliding open, or the heavy footfalls that followed, your ears feeling as if someone had them covered.

You couldn’t take it anymore. You needed the burning to stop. You scratched at the burning, at the material on you. Get it off, get it off, get it off.

Your hands met something wet, but you didn’t stop. It hurt so much. A call of your name, or what you think was your name, barely broke through the muffled space.

Suddenly, hands grabbed your wrists, moving you away from where you were scratching. You thrashed in their hold, but they remained strong and unmoving. You sobbed as the burn turned into a roaring fire. The hands wrapped around your wrist never loosened, pinning yours to your sides. You squirmed, thrashed, bucked to be released.

“Hey, hey, hey!” a shadow loomed over you, completely blocking the harsh light above you. Blonde hair lightly brushed over your cheek. “Shh, shh, easy!”

Tears streamed down your face, the fire burning worse and worse. “Make it stop!”

“I know,” the shadow said. “I know it hurts, but you’re healing.”

The Doctor moved both your wrists to one of her hands so she could wipe your tears away and check the bandage. You had done some damage to the wrapping, and it had started to stain red.

The Doctor had to remind herself to keep calm. If she wasn’t then you could hurt yourself trying to get away. The Doctor had hoped that you would stay sleeping while the nanobots did their thing healing you.

Normally, the process wouldn’t really hurt, but it could cause some forms of irritation. In your case, since you were literally being stitched together from the inside out, it caused that severe burning.

“Just calm down,” she soothed. “Listen to my voice. You’re okay. I know it hurts right now but I promise that it will pass.”

You whimpered in response, still trying to tug your arms free, but you were too weak to make any real effort.

“I can get you something for the pain, but you can’t claw at it anymore, okay?” She asked.

You gazed up at the shadow again, it felt familiar to you, so you nodded, feeling like you could trust it. The Doctor released your hands, watching you to make sure that you didn’t try to tear at it again, and reached into the drawer nearby to pull out an injector. She showed it to you.

“Do you trust me?” she asked.

You nodded almost immediately. Of course, you trusted the Doctor, even if you didn’t know that the shadow person in front of you was the Doctor. “Yes.”

The Doctor nodded and placed the injector to the side of your neck and squeezed. It was something close to nanogenes, but instead of healing you instantly like she wanted, they worked to stitch you up from the inside out, especially so close to your heart to make sure you didn’t unexpectedly go into cardiac arrest.

Your head twitched at the pinch you felt, but when you tried to ask you what it was you, your tiredness took hold. You whined; you didn’t want to sleep again.

“I know,” the Doctor started to say. “You’ll feel better soon.”

With your bandages redone and you softly resting, the Doctors attention drifted down to your hands. Your fingers were red, your blood slowly matting and dry, into your palms. It was no doubt uncomfortable on your skin, and the sight pulled at the Doctors hearts in the most uncomfortable way.

The Doctor grabbed a wet washcloth and carefully cleaned your hands. Her mind drifted away as she did her task. She couldn’t stop the sob that left her, and the cloth dropped to the floor. She brought her head down so she could press your hand to her cheek.

“I’m sorry,” she cried. “I’m so sorry.”

It was hours until you woke up again, groggy and disoriented. You couldn’t recall where you were and what happened. You felt stiff and groaned when a muscle in your leg pulled when you tried to stretch.

A warmth in your hand drew your attention. Familiar blonde hair and a light blue coat sat in a chair beside you, her hand, occasionally twitching, in yours

“D-Doctor?”

The Doctors head jerked up and met your hazy eyes. You could still feel the effects of the pain medication.

“Hey,” she whispered and gave your hand a squeeze. Her hearts skipped a beat when you gave a weak squeeze in return. “How are you feeling?”

You hummed and your head rolled to the side so you could look at the Doctor. “Am I dead?”

The Doctor shook her head, her eyes holding her uncontained sadness. “Of course not. You’re here on the Tardis with me.”

You frowned at that, trying to pull your thoughts together, but couldn’t think through the fog clouding your mind. Instead, you tried to sit up, but the Doctors hands grabbed your shoulders to gently push you back down on the bed.

“No, no,” she told you. “Don’t try to get up yet, you haven’t healed completely.”

“How am I … here?” you asked.

The Doctor sighed. “How much do you remember? Do you remember calling me?”

You tried to think. You remembered coming home and that someone was in your house and … oh.

A loud bang echoed through your memories and you jumped, suddenly sitting up and backing away from the Doctors hands, nearly falling off the bed. Your hand went to your chest where the second bullet had hit you. You could feel the slight indent under the bandage, and your breath left you.

“I-I-I,” you gasped, struggling to breathe.

“Shh, shh,” the Doctor soothed. “It’s okay, you’re okay.” She gently grabbed your hand and pulled it away from your chest, worried that you might start hurting yourself again, and laced your fingers together.

“T-There was a … g-gun,” you tried to get out.

The Doctor nodded. “You were shot, and you called me after.”

“T-The blood wouldn’t s-stop.”

A squeeze from the Doctors hand. “I knew something wasn’t right and I went to see you. When I found you, you were…” she trailed off, a sad pained look in her eyes. “I brought you back to the Tardis.”

“I didn’t … I’m … I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Doctor, I didn’t…”

You couldn’t get it out. You couldn’t tell her how sorry you were that you were dying and that you wouldn’t tell her, how sorry you were that she had to find you as you were. She probably hates you now, hates that she had to waste her time bringing you back.

The Doctor didn’t say anything, just tugged gently on your hand until you had no choice but to shift closer to her and lean against her side. Your wounds protested with the movement, and you inhaled sharply. You hated this, this feeling of helplessness.

The Doctor carefully wrapped her arm around your shoulder to better support you, her other hand still held yours. You could feel her double heartbeats under you.

“I’m not mad,” she told you.

You looked up from you intertwined hands in shock. Her words confused you. How she knew what you were thinking, and how could she not be mad at you? “H-how?”

“You’re very easy to read,” she told you, running her thumb over your wrist. She could feel your still weak beating heart. “You mean so much to me, I was so scared when I found you.”

You couldn’t stop the tears at her words, you didn’t know which situation would be worse; the Doctor being mad, or the Doctor forgiving you so fast.

“I’m sorry,” you cried into her shoulder.

The Doctor shushed you, whispering gentle nothings in your ear until you calmed. You stayed in the Doctors embrace until your tears dried and both of you were just leaning into each other, taking in each other’s presence. You were still in pain, and the Doctor gave you another injection when she noticed.

“Are you getting tired?” the Doctor asked you.

She noticed that you were starting to nod off against her shoulder after a few hours. She couldn’t help the small smile on her face, her hearts giving a strong thump the longer she looked at you. You were alive!

“Just a little,” you admitted, sighing and relaxing fully into the Doctors body. “I think the pain meds are kicking in again.” “You should get some more sleep,” she told you, and untangled herself to help you lay back down. “Here. Slow, slow.”

You grunted, your wound flaring, and sighed when you head met the soft pillow under you. The Doctor pulled the blanket up over you and told you that she was just going to do some Tardis maintenance and if you needed her to give her a shout. She was just about to leave when you thought of a memory.

Call me whenever you need.

You grabbed the sleeve of her coat. The Doctor paused, turning to see your frightened eyes.

“Stay,” you said before she could ask what was wrong. “Please, stay.”

The Doctor nodded, moving to go sit back in the chair that she had been occupying during your recovery, but another tug of her sleeve stopped her.

“No,” you said again. You moved to the side of the bed, giving another tug. “Here. Please.” The Doctor’s hearts picked up. You wanted her to lay in the same bed as you. “I don’t want-”

“You won’t,” you cut her off.

The Doctor allowed herself to be pulled back towards the bed. She shrugged off her coat, tossing it onto the chair before sliding into the bed. When the Doctor settled under the blanket with you, you shifted and squirmed so you could lay on your side, facing the Doctor without kicking her or hurting yourself more.

“You should lay on your back,” the Doctor started to say. “It would be more comfortable for you.”

“Ever the Doctor,” you mumbled, shaking your head. “I’m okay, I just want to lay like this for a bit.”

The Doctor didn’t say anything after that, and she turned herself over so the both of you were facing each other. It wasn’t until this moment that you saw how tired the Doctor looked. There were dark circles under her eyes, the whites tinted pink. Either from sleep deprivation, crying, or both, you weren’t sure.

You reached your hand out and ran a finger down her cheek. The Doctor closed her eyes under your touch and sighed, and she seemed to fully relax and sag into the pillow.

She took your hand and held it tight - as if afraid that if she let go you would disappear, and brought your clasped hands close. She placed a kiss on the palm of your hand before settling into a restful sleep.

Your face warmed at her actions, the skin on your hand tingled from her kiss. You tried to ignore it and closed your eyes to sleep, held the Doctors just a little bit tighter.

When you woke up the next morning you were surprised to see that the Doctor was still sleeping in your bed. You had honestly expected her to be already up and doing whatever it is that she does, so you guessed that she probably hadn’t been sleeping while you were unconscious. It was a rare sight to see the Doctor sleeping anyway. She was always claiming that Time Lords didn’t need as much sleep as humans, and you wanted to take this in while you still could.

The Doctors eyes opened not long after you woke, and you were mesmerized by the colour. You never really took too much notice of them - you knew what colour they were, but now being as close as you were, you were finally able to see the colours hidden underneath.

They weren’t just hazel. You could really see the mix of green and brown, and, surprisingly, little gold flakes that seemed to dance across her eyes. They almost reminded you of space and stars. You looked away before you would get lost in those colours, your face growing warm.

“Morning,” she said to you. “How are you feeling?”

You lifted your hand to where you knew the entry wound was, only to find it nearly smooth. “Better,” you told her. “It’s still sore, but good.”

“Good.” The Doctor got up from the bed and threw her coat back on. “I don’t want you doing anything to strain yourself. So, no adventures until you are 100%, alright?”

You mock saluted. “Yes ma’am.”

The Doctor took one of your hands, placing the other against the middle of your back, and helped you sit up. “Still okay?” You nodded, taking a sharp inhale when you felt a pinch of pain. When your feet touched the ground you sighed in relief, glad to no longer be laying down, but your joints ached and protested from disuse.

“You want to try standing and walking?”

“Yes please,” you said.

“Okay, just take it slow,” the Doctor told you.

Still with the Doctors help you slowly got to your feet. A sudden wave of dizziness hit you and your eyes blurred over, your knees giving out. Luckily, the Doctor was quick to catch you. Her arms wrapped around you, and she held you close.

“Hey, hey! Are you okay?”

You groaned and pressed your head into her arm to try to stop the pounding headache behind your eyes. “Yes, sorry. Just got dizzy for a minute.”

“You lost quite a bit of blood when … you know, so you’ll most likely have some dizzy spells for a bit. Do you want to try again?”

You blinked rapidly to get rid of the blur and nodded. “Yeah.”

You were suddenly very aware of how close the Doctor was to you - how warm she was. You cleared your throat awkwardly and stood up, with the Doctors help, and only wavered once before getting your footing.

“Good!” the Doctor praised, and you blushed.

“Can you help me to my room?” you asked. “I’d like to change,” you gestured to the hospital gown you had been wearing probably since the Doctor brought you to the infirmary.

“Oh, yes, of course!”

With slow careful steps, and the Tardis’s help of bringing your room closer, you and the Doctor reached your destination. “I’ll just wait out here for you.”

You nodded and shuffled your way inside. Your room was exactly how you left it, and you felt much better in this room than you did in your own house. There was a certain warmth to it that you couldn’t explain.

It would probably be better to wear something lose and easy to slip on, you thought, so you found a large hoodie and sweatpants to wear. You couldn’t help but look in the mirror at the damage. The bandaging was wrapped tightly around you, dried blood spots painted on.

Your face was pale and cold to the touch. You quite honestly looked like death, on the verge of life. You sighed and turned away from the mirror, unable to look at your reflection any longer, and shuffled back over to where the Doctor was. You wondered if she thought the same, that you nearly looked like a walking corpse, and your shoulders sagged at the thought.

“All good?” she asked when you came out. You nodded. “I bet you’re hungry,” she continued. “Let’s get you something.”

The rest of the day went by uneventfully. You were starting to feel stronger, and didn’t have many more dizzy spells. You could even walk without dragging your feet. Sometimes though, if you breathed too hard you would double over into a coughing fit, sharp pain attacking you.

The Doctor remained by your side the entire time, always there to catch you, to help you get your strength back. When you grew tired the Doctor allowed you go to sleep in your own bed, which you nearly cheered in joy for. You longed for your own comfortable mattress and not the thin stiff bed in the infirmary. Your back would thank you.

It almost felt weird though; sleeping in your own bed after however long it was that you stayed in the infirmary. When the Doctor walked you back to your room, she removed your bandage to see your progress, and you were surprised to see it completely healed. Only a faint scar remained, even though it had been just a few days since the incident.

“The scar will disappear soon,” the Doctor told you. “Then it’ll be like it never happened.”

“But it did,” you said.

The Doctors eyes turned sad, and she placed her hand on the side of your head, her thumb running over your temple. “The mind heals at a different pace. Try to fix it too fast and it crumples, but we’ll get through it, yeah?”

After that you and the Doctor hung around the Tardis for the day, she didn’t want to take you somewhere potentially dangerous and have something happen to you again, so you spent the day reading in the library or going to the surprise garden filled with many different kinds of flowers, both human and alien alike. They were beautiful and you made a note to come back to this spot, you found that there was something soothing about the garden.

When you noticed the “sun” starting to dim you made the walk to your room, saying goodnight to the Doctor with a yawn as you passed. Now, here you were. You laid on your back, staring up at the dark ceiling, and were wide awake. Your chest began to ache, your mind wandering to the incident. You rubbed your hand where the bullet once was.

Phantom pain you think it was called.

You scowled and threw the blanket over to try to go to sleep, you didn’t want to think about it anymore

That didn’t stop you dreaming it, however.

You were back in your house. The shooter held you at gunpoint, but it was different. He was more aggressive than you remembered, or maybe it was always like this.

“Please don’t,” you begged.

He didn’t say anything, just pulled the trigger. That familiar burn coursed in your chest. You fell to your knees gasping. Looking down, you watched your blood dye your shirt that terrible red colour. The shooter was now standing above you, his gun aimed right at your head. He never spoke before, that much you remembered, but when he opened his mouth to speak, icy cold fear ran through your veins.

“No one to save you now.”

He pulled the trigger.

You awoke with a scream, only seeing that terrible nightmare. Your chest tightened painfully, and you gasped for breath. Your door opened, but you didn’t notice it, barely feeling as the mattress dipped beside you.

“Hey, hey,” hands cupped your face. “You’re okay. It’s okay.”

You struggled to get your breath back, instead trying to focus on something, anything, to make you forget your dream. Looking up through your tears, you saw the blurry shape of the Doctor, her thumbs wiping at your cheeks.

“You’re okay,” she said, her voice soft. “Just breathe, ready? In,” you tried your best to inhale along with the Doctor, but only managed broken sobs. “And out.”

It took a few times, and you weren’t sure how long it had been or what time it was. By the end you were finally able to calm down enough to breathe with the Doctor, only hiccupping every once in a while.

“Sorry,” you apologized, your voice weak as you pulled away from the Doctors hands. You already missed the contact. “Sorry if I woke you.”

The Doctor’s hands slowly dropped into her lap. “It’s okay, I wasn’t sleeping anyway.”

She wouldn’t admit why she wasn’t sleeping, wouldn’t tell you that she couldn’t after her own nightmare the day before.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

You looked up at her eyes, yours flickering between them. Your breath threatened to leave you again.

“How do I know…” you trailed off, now sounding unsure.

The Doctor tilted her head. “How do you know what? I can’t answer if I don’t know.”

You were quiet for a moment, then asked in a quiet voice. “How do I know that I’m not really dead?”

She didn’t reply after that. Maybe she didn’t know the answer, maybe you did die, and this was your afterlife. It wasn’t a bad one, you had to admit, to be stuck on the Tardis with the Doctor. You jumped when the Doctors hands cupped your face again, but this time she leaned in, and you sighed when the Doctors lips pressed lightly against yours.

“How did that prove anything?” you teased when you parted from the Doctor.

She laughed and leaned forward so your foreheads were touching. “Guess you’ll have to just take my word for it.”

You hummed. “Well, dead or alive, this isn’t a bad place to be.”

“Come with me,” the Doctor suddenly said pulling away and standing up from the bed, her hand outstretched for you to grab. You grabbed her hand and she pulled out from the bed and out of your room. The floor of the Tardis was cold under your feet as you followed the Doctor down the halls, but you didn’t mind. She led you to the front doors of the Tardis and opened them. The stars shone in the distance.

“Figured you’d like to take your mind off everything,” she told you.

She pulled you to sit down beside her and you both sat with your legs swinging out of the Tardis.

“I think this is the one view I’ll never get tired of,” you admitted, a smiling lifting on your face.

The Doctor hummed in agreement, but she wasn’t looking outside like you were, her eyes were on you. She watched as the various blues and purples lit up your face and brightened your eyes. It took the Doctors breath away. Neither of you were sure how long the both of you stayed there, but you didn’t really care very much. You simply enjoyed the view and the company the Doctor provided.

“Thank you,” you said.

“For what?” she asked.

“For helping me,” you replied turning your attention to look at her. “For saving me. For just being you.”

“Of course,” the Doctor smiled.

You stayed out there for a little bit longer until you had to try to hide a yawn.

“Let’s get you back to bed, yeah?” the Doctor suggested.

You groaned and took the Doctors hand again so she could help you stand up. Your fingers interlaced and you walked side by side until you found yourself sitting on your bed again. The Doctor was about to leave when you called her name making her pause by the door.

“Can you stay with me again?” you asked her.

The Doctor was surprised. You wanted her to stay the night with you again?

“I just…” you started to fidget with your blanket. “You … you make me feel … safe. You help me forget, if it’s only for a moment, chasing away the bad memories.”

“Okay,” she whispered.

And like the night before, the Doctor shrugged off her coat, slipped off her boots, and crawled under the covers. You had already moved to the other side of the bed, giving her more room, and you laid on your side like you did before to just look at the Doctor.

“What is it?” she asked, laying down to mirror you.

You shook you head. “It’s nothing.”

“We’ll get you through this, okay?”

You nodded, although part of you wasn’t so sure.

“The nightmares are just a bump in the road, they won’t be there forever,” she continued to say.

“And if they are?”

The Doctor reached over to brush your hair behind your ear. “Then you’ll learn to overcome them.”

You grabbed the Doctors hand and, much like she had the night before, pressed a kiss to her hand and nestling closer to her, your head tucked under her chin and her arms held you close promising to protect you from any nightmares that came to haunt you.

“Goodnight, Doctor,” you said softly.

“Goodnight,” she whispered.

~~~

“You cleaned.”

You had asked the Doctor to take you back to your house, back to where you were hurt. She insisted on coming with you this time and you agreed, you wouldn’t be able to go back inside by yourself.

“I couldn’t leave it how it was,” the Doctor replied.

You wandered into the room where you first found the shooter, the room had been absolutely destroyed; drawers flung open, items thrown across the floor, but you were shocked to see it was like nothing ever happened. Even the blood seemed to disappear. Your chest tightened when you remembered how much blood was on the floor, the red trail and the puddle that sat underneath you. So much red. You could still feel the phantom pain of the bullets hitting you, burning you, consuming you.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay.”

You vision was blocked by light blue and all you could feel, hear, and smell was the Doctor. You grasped the Doctors coat in a tight shaking fist.

“Sorry,” you spoke into her shirt.

“It’s okay,” she said. “Do you want to go outside?”

You nodded and let yourself be guided outside, near the comforting presence of the Tardis.

“I can’t…” you started to say.

“You don’t have to,” the Doctor told you.

“Can I just … Can I stay on the Tardis with you? I don’t think I can go back to that house yet,” you asked, a hopeful look in your eyes.

“Of course,” she assured you. “I told you that we’d get through this together, and if you don’t feel safe in your house right now then we’ll try again when you feel ready, yeah?”

You nodded, tearing up. “Thank you.”

“Of course, love.”

~~~

It took a few weeks. You spent the entire time on the Tardis with the Doctor, spending time with her and going on very small trips. Alien hot springs, festivals - very small fun things, and you loved every bit of it. You couldn’t help but tease the Doctor on how she actually could find things to take you to that didn’t involve running for your life.

“It’s not all me,” she would protest, almost offended at what you were saying. “It’s the Tardis! She just ignores what I want to do!”

“Sure, Doctor,” you laughed. “Sure.”

Nearly a month later, you told the Doctor you wanted to go back to Earth. You wanted to see your family again, and the Doctor felt slightly reluctant to let you go. She knew that you would eventually want to go back.

“I just want to spend the day with them,” you told her.

When the doors closed behind you the Doctor was suddenly very aware of how empty, and how big the Tardis actually was. She felt very … alone. The Tardis hummed down at her Pilot, reassuring her that you would be back.

“I know,” the Doctor said to the empty space.

The Doctor decided to do some console “repairs,” keeping herself occupied, even though she knew they were completely unnecessary. She laid underneath the console, pulling out wires and leaving a huge mess on the floor.

She continued this for a few hours, pausing when her phone started ringing on top of the console. The Doctor’s mind went back to the incident. She hesitated to pick it up, almost fearing for what was waiting for her on the other side. She slid from underneath the console, wiping the grease from her hands, and picked up her phone. She took a deep breath, answered in the middle of the third ring.

“Hello?”

“Hello, Doctor,” your voice greeted her.

“This better not be another goodbye call,” she threatened.

You laughed through the speaker. “Definitely not dying this time, I promise.”

“Good, great even! Because once was enough.”

You smiled even though you knew that the Doctor couldn’t see you. “I’m just letting you know that I’m on my way back.” The Doctor pulled the phone away from her ear to see that it was well into the evening, the entire day had passed. She put the phone back to her ear, looking at the mess she created. Wires and tools littered the ground, and she could have sworn she heard the Tardis laugh at her predicament.

“Fantastic! Wonderful! I’ll, uh, I’ll see you soon,” she trailed off in thought. How was she going to clean all this up?

“You’ve made a mess of the Tardis, haven’t you?”

“No, of course not!” she defended.

“Mhm,” you hummed. “You’d think a time travel spaceship would be able to repair herself if she needed to.”

Before the Doctor could reply the Tardis whirred and beeped an “I told you so!”

“Hey, no!” she told the machine. “Don’t take their side!”

You laughed at the argument. “Well, I’ll see you soon. Bye!”

The Doctor pocketed the phone after she gave her own bye. She glared at the time machine, who beeped innocently. “Don’t even start.” She warned. “Just help me put you back together.”

It didn’t take you very long to get back to that familiar blue box, feeling more at home the closer you got.

“Hey, girl,” you greeted. “Hope that Doctor wasn’t too much trouble.”

The Tardis opened the door for you in a “come on in and see.” You walked in, your jaw falling at the sight you saw. Wires and cables littered the floor. The Doctor sat in the middle of it, struggling to pull it all back.

“What did you do?” you laughed.

The Doctor jumped at your voice, dropping all that she had in her arms. “Oh! Me? Nothing! Well, I was doing some small repair and I tried to clean it all up, but someone…” She glared at the console. “Decided to be difficult.”

The Tardis let out a series of irritated beeps and a panel on the wall behind the Doctor suddenly dropped to the ground.

“Oi!!”

You couldn’t stop your laughter. You tried to hide it behind your hand, but the Doctor heard you and threw you a glare as well. There was no real irritation or anger behind it, but still, you cleared your throat and held your hands up to show you weren’t laughing at her. You were barely able to keep your smile down.

“Sorry,” you said. “Please, continue your little fight with the Tardis.”

The Doctor groaned, gathering the cables back into her arms and dragging it over.

“You want some help?” you offered.

“No, I’m fine” she dismissed.

“You sure?” you asked again, voice filled with amusement.

Before she could answer, the Doctor stepped on a tool. Her balance faltered, and the wires fell from her grasp. “Alright, fine.” Your smile grew as you walked up the steps to the console before running a hand over it.

You spoke to the Tardis. “Can you put yourself back together for us, girl?”

You received a warm hum in return as the console room started to fix itself. The panel that fell returned to its spot on the wall, the wires reattached themselves, and the cables snaked back under the console. The room looked as good as new.

“It pays to be the Tardis’s favourite, I think,” you winked at the wide-eyed Doctor.

The Doctor shook herself. “You’re not supposed to pick favourites!” she scolded the Tardis.

You laughed again and watched the Doctor move up to the console, turning her back to you and twisting her coat around her.

“So,” she clapped her hands together. “Where would you like to go today?”

Where would you like to go? A memory came to you, words of place you never thought you would be able to see. You smiled at her. “Soft beaches and waterfall clouds.”

The Doctor smiled back at you, her expression understanding. “Soft beaches it is!” You watched fondly as the Doctor moved about the console, flipping switches and levers until she stopped by the main lever and looked over at you.

“Together?” she gestured her to lever.

You grinned and ran up beside the Doctor, placing your hand on top of hers. “Together.”

#13th doctor x reader #thirteenth doctor imagine #thirteenth doctor x reader #13th Doctor #i am not good at this #lmaooo

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