Fandom Doctor Who: Through The Gaps [Closed]

[Lucyfer]

The Doctor was certain he had walked into his grave when he stepped through those TARDIS doors and heard them close behind him. He stumbled towards the central console of his machine, feeling death creeping along his bodies, lighting up every cell.

‘Should it feel so…?’

Familiar.

It felt familiar, and the answer became clear in a moment as he collapsed on the console, sending the TARDIS spiraling through time as his own body took on a golden glow. He saw it as he stared at his hand, before sight was lost in the flash of light and the warm, tingling sensation of his cells being rearranged, adapting, changing.

The Doctor was thoughtless during this.

Thoughtless, except for his physical experience, something terribly painful, and reassuring, if not confusing.

The TARDIS settled long before he did, blacking out for a few moments and waking to realize he was, in fact, alive.

‘Alive.’

Blue eyes took in the damaged TARDIS as he sat up. His button-up shirt felt a bit too tight, the suspenders digging into his broader shoulders, and bowtie squeezing his neck. He reached up absentmindedly to undo that as he got to his feet, shaking a bit as he tried to orient himself to the fact he was alive.

’14.’

Though he had considered his previous regeneration to be his 11th, he knew the truth. He had counted them, even if he wanted to forget them. This was his 14th regeneration, which wasn’t meant to be possible.

“I don’t suppose outside those doors are the ruins of the dalek army?” He spoke aloud, then frowned. “That doesn’t sound like me. I don’t sound like this. I didn’t sound like this.” His voice was deeper now, older. There was no mirror to show him, but he wondered if he had silver hair.

He would have been delighted to know he had red hair – just not long enough for him to brush into his face so he could see it. “Darn it.” He shook his head, and turned towards the door, shut tight against the world, for now. “Well, I suppose I can find a mirror somewhere to see,” he huffed and turned towards the doors. “I’ll step out then for a bit, while you regain yourself.” He told the vehicle, and walked to those doors without checking to see what was outside.

His first inhalation told him much of what he needed to know. He was on Earth, for one, within the 21st century. He’d been going to that time a lot. It was starting to feel like home. However, this wasn’t London, or the United Kingdoms at all. The air was far crisper than that. Cleaner.

He couldn’t place it immediately as he strode out and looked around, TARDIS door shutting behind him as he ended up in a busy street. Well, not a car street, he realized, but more of a market street. Lots of stores lined the area, and lots of people were walking amongst them. His TARDIS had settled between a clothing vendor and restaurant.

Some people gave him a few odd looks, but they moved around him, as he stumbled out into the day light.

Light he never imagined he’d see before. ‘Why here?’

The TARDIS always had a reason, but he couldn’t exactly ask her anymore, could he? No, so he wandered a few steps ahead, before pausing as he caught his reflection in a shop window. “No…really?” He couldn’t help but talk to himself and he drew closer to the window, mussing his hair a bit – though it was really too short to do all that much to – “It’s red?”

Someone stepped out of the store, an employee, “You okay there?”

He lifted his head and his attention, and gave a smile. He was tall, wasn’t he? Well he’d been tall before, but with how tight the clothes fit now, and how they revealed ankles and wrists, he knew he was even taller now, “Yeah, yeah,” he waved it off, “just got out of a bad, uh, thing. Still a bit gobsmacked by it, is all, can’t believe how I let myself go.”

This did not seem to relieve the worker at all, but they nodded along, “Did you need some clothes?”

“Oh, I do, I do, but I’ll have to come back for that,” he needed money. He did not have money, but he knew how to deal with ATM machines and the like, and this was still, clearly, Earth in the 21st century. He could find ATM machines. “Thank you!” He took a glance up at the shop name, Barker’s.

Looked like they had some cozy knitwear he’d like.

He left it for the moment, in search of what seemed to be an increasingly illusive machine.

He passed underneath a Bridge.

He paused, and went right back under it to give it a proper look. “Oooh, now I know where I am,” he said to himself, recognizing the memorial to WWI in the Bridge of Remembrance. ‘Christchurch, New Zealand.’ Good place to be. Maybe he could catch some filming going on.

His stomach dared to rumble it’s complaint, and tempted as he was to tell it to shut up, it didn’t even know what he wanted, he ignored it. Instead, he laid eyes on the nearest human, and called out, “Oi there! Excuse me!” he called to the brunette, “Could you help me out a bit, I’m, uh…new.”

 

[AngstyAnarchist]

It had been a long day, and usually that meant one of two things; it was going to be rewarding and the awaiting exhaustion was going to be worth it. Or it was going to end up feeling like he'd done hours of prep, only to then decide to run headfirst into a brick wall.

Maybe he needed to hit his head against a wall?

Alex knew realistically he needed to stop wondering about the outcome of his work and return his focus on paving the way there, but on days like today- when he had to leave his friendly office behind, for the looming structure of the Justice precinct -it felt like he was ill equipped, out numbered, and behind enemy lines.

The police weren't his enemy, the Justice system wasn't his enemy- not really, -it just felt like far too often they chose to intervene AFTER the fact, and he couldn't help wonder what the situation of the young man the case file in front of him represented, had intervention taken place sooner. But wasn't that why he was there? To voluntary choose to step into the difficult battles to support those who the system over-represented, and without people like him might face it alone.

Maybe he just needed some fresh air, some coffee, and a walk by the river to help him churn out his options.

It was so much harder when the client was resistant to help. Change.

But hadn't he been in that same position once? The petulant, hurt, teenager with no faith in the system? "And look at you now." Alex said to his reflection on the startlingly shiny walls, forcing a smile that didn't quite meet his tired brown eyes. That's what it was. He was tired, exhausted after the long week- Wait, no, it was only Tuesday.. -"Advocacy never sleeps." He muttered to himself, repeating the words his teacher had once told him while he studied his way to the qualifications necessary to become a registered Social Worker.

But advocates, he amended, could certainly take a break and it was with the thought that he gathered his notes neatly back into their file, slipping the folder into his bag as he made his way through the metal detectors stationed by the main exit. "I'll be back in a little, just going for smoko." He said, managing a friendly smile at the officers stationed by the x-ray- ready to inspect anything potentially dangerous someone might try to smuggle in.
"Not a problem, mate." Came the easy reply, as the pair went back to their speculation about the game that week.

Of course, if asked Alex would claim absolute loyalty to the Crusaders and the All Blacks. Rugby was one of the many things integral to 'Kiwi culture', the streets even lined with the red and black flag of their regional team, but sports had only really ever registered a passing interest to the Social Worker.

Even so as he stepped out into the warm air- winter finally releasing its grip on the tiny islands at the bottom of the world -he couldn't help but hope the Crusaders would win. They were his team after all, and the values of collectivism and and pride in ones home were fiercely shared among the people who called Aotearoa New Zealand their home.

With a coffee in hand, Alex followed the path along the Avon river, content to listen to the bubbling of the water under all of the bustle from the restaurants that lined the little walkway.

Did they still have that sushi place on the mall strip?

Sushi would go nicely right now, maybe settled on the grass under the shade of one of the trees by the river. He couldn't remember if the sushi place had come before or after the earthquakes- and subsequent renovations -that had changed the shape of the city.

He was just approaching the bridge, glancing up at the impressive arch- enjoying his own moment of Remembrance, of the social rights protests he had attended using the landmark as a meeting point. The one he'd even organised and spoke at.

The mans voice pulled him back to the moment, and Alex glanced over at the redhead, determining he was in fact talking- yelling rather -at him. Running a hand through his hair as he made his way over to the stranger to see what he wanted, the Social Worker smiled. "Kia Ora, hello." He said politely, addressing the other respectfully first in the language of the Indigenous Māori. "What's the problem? We'll see what we can do to sort it out."

The man didn't sound like he was from around here, English maybe? Or from thereabouts, he probably just needed to be pointed towards a map, or one of the cities attractions.

 

[Lucyfer]

A smile bloomed onto the Doctor’s face at the greeting, both of them familiar and easily translating into his head. It may have been a while since he had been in New Zealand, but he hardly forgot such things. “Kia Ora,” he echoed, “Thank you for taking a moment, I promise not to take up too much of your time.”

Although the lad did seem the friendly sort, and he never did mind the company, “I was hoping you could point me in the direction of an ATM? I need to get some cash for some clothes – these aren’t quite fitting anymore,” he helplessly pulled on the sleeve of his shirt, as if that could make it grow to cover his wrist.

Alas, it did not. It remained stubbornly tight against his upper arm, mere centimeters from his wrist.

“And some food. Actually, if you could recommend a good place to eat, I’d be in your debt,” before his stomach growled again and reminded him that he had no idea what he even liked. “I haven’t a clue what I even like anymore.” He was rambling a bit, no doubt sounding a little mad to the stranger before him, but no matter.

He’d try not to hold the stranger accountable for anything that disagreed with him, at any rate.

Neither of them could know what he would, and wouldn’t, enjoy, after all.

Just as neither of them could know that the Teece Museum would soon be hosting a new item in its gallery – or had plans to do so, at any rate, involving a strangely old, cybernetic. That it was hosting a new item was somewhat obvious in the crowd that was starting to move through the area and towards the museum, noticing that it was soon to open and show off its new showcase.

Even the Doctor took note of people moving away from the area, as if realizing the time.

He did wonder a moment at what time it was, but of course, he hardly had a watch to check.

For being a Timelord, he wasn’t always the best at keeping track of such things as minutes and hours.