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Love is patient; love is kind. Love is not envious or boastful or arrogant or rude. It does not insist on its own way; it is not irritable or resentful; it does not rejoice in wrongdoing but rejoices in truth. It bears all things, believes all things, hopes all things. King James version of the Bible - 1 Corinthians 13:4-7
You wait. You've been waiting from the moment of your birthing. You wait for someone to step into your shiny white rooms and live within you. To tell you where to go. To show you the stars. This is the nature of the Time And Relative Dimensions In Space machine. You have never wanted anything else.
He will arrive. He will sneak into the birthing chambers and visit you many times. The first few will be quiet curiosity: Is it you? Are you to be my TARDIS? You will have never heard that anagram before, but it will be said so lovingly that you won't wish to be called anything but that ever again. He will stroke the sides of your console and will talk to you about what places he wants to take you both.
He will be far too young. His eyes will shine with a strange sort of longing, something you will never have seen in another Time Lord before. He will curl up beneath the stairs deep within your hull and will tell you about his past, about why he is so frightened that he will never be able to travel within you. You shall hear his words, if perhaps not understand them, and your walls will curl towards him, longing to embrace the man within, to show him that there is nothing more you desire than for him to be your captain, to travel the universe within you.
You will love him. Completely and utterly, with an almost maternal longing. You will wish to make him happy, you will want to show him the universe, help him right the wrongs that he says are there. Are always, always there. He will sleep in one of your rooms, and the room will be warmer for you, keeping him safe.
He will leave, as he always does, to go back to his studying, to go back to learning what he needs to know to become worthy in the eyes of his peers to have you. You are lonely and cold, but you will wait. You would wait an eternity for him, because you love him.
At last, he will arrive without the curiosity, without the longing. He will drop down his black doctor's bag onto your console, and will speak to you with a desperate urgency. Now is the time, he will say. Please don't be afraid. His hands will fumble beneath your console, and he will pull out the briode nebulizer.
You will feel a shock. It will rock you to the core. Everything will open to you. His terror, his fear, his loneliness, all of his longings will become yours. Your walls will swell and twist with confusion, with emotion you have never felt before.
Eventually, you will still. He will lie on your floor, basking in the strange sort of euphoria you share in being so connected with another being. He will ask you questions. What is that buzzing on the fifth level? The core redactor cable was faulty, you will reply, It needs replacing.
Unlike your Academy caretakers, you will feel his excitement at doing little things, like changing cables and restarting rotors that have been misfired. He will love to tinker, and you will love to feel the joy every repair gives him.
After you two escape from Gallifrey, you will give him things to do. Certain cables will disintegrate a little early; there will be minor faults in the wirings. Little things that he will love to fix. After time, you don't have to give him problems, they present themselves. Your hull gets deeper as you age, your corridors and depths grow. He will, of course, memorize every one of them, learn you inside out as any good captain would.
Where to next, old girl? He will pat your console with withered, aged hands, and his elf-like companion will look at him questioningly. The TARDIS isn't a person, Grandfather, she says, Why do you always talk to it like it is?
He will counter her, saying that not only are you a living being, you are the closest he has ever had to a best friend. The white of your console room walls will glow and you will warm the room to show your happiness. Susan will be startled, but she will learn to accept and love you the way that he does.
You will stay with him no matter what. His face will change, his companions will be many, and his youthful glee will slip into aching loneliness. He will bleed into you, and you will hold him up stronger and more firmly than a paradox machine will hold up a universal disaster. He will collapse into one of your hallways post-regeneration and you will push medical supplies through a hollow roundel in your wall. You will protect him, because you love him.
The War will come. You both will cling to each other. Times will be dark, and he will press his newly-regenerated forehead into the door that separates the two of you from the burning world you both once called home. You will try to press some sympathy into him, but he will shut you out. Not now, old girl. You ache, but you will wait. You would wait an eternity for him, because you love him.
Right! Where to now, old girl? He will have regenerated again, and his loud, ginger companion will never have been impressed with his constant affections towards you.
Why're you always talkin' to the ship like she's alive or somethin', she will say, crossing her arms and looking more than a little put-out, Don't you got any real friends?
His reaction to her will be so very different from the one he would give his granddaughter. He laughs, then strokes the console. The TARDIS is my best friend, he will say. There's no one else quite like her.
You will be able to feel the love in his mind for you. You can't help but return it.
All this is centuries away. Millennia. You don't doubt your Time Lord will come. Until then, you wait. You would wait an eternity for him, because you love him.
Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 1,035
Special thanks for the idea from![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
shaman_x here.
You wait. You've been waiting from the moment of your birthing. You wait for someone to step into your shiny white rooms and live within you. To tell you where to go. To show you the stars. This is the nature of the Time And Relative Dimensions In Space machine. You have never wanted anything else.
He will arrive. He will sneak into the birthing chambers and visit you many times. The first few will be quiet curiosity: Is it you? Are you to be my TARDIS? You will have never heard that anagram before, but it will be said so lovingly that you won't wish to be called anything but that ever again. He will stroke the sides of your console and will talk to you about what places he wants to take you both.
He will be far too young. His eyes will shine with a strange sort of longing, something you will never have seen in another Time Lord before. He will curl up beneath the stairs deep within your hull and will tell you about his past, about why he is so frightened that he will never be able to travel within you. You shall hear his words, if perhaps not understand them, and your walls will curl towards him, longing to embrace the man within, to show him that there is nothing more you desire than for him to be your captain, to travel the universe within you.
You will love him. Completely and utterly, with an almost maternal longing. You will wish to make him happy, you will want to show him the universe, help him right the wrongs that he says are there. Are always, always there. He will sleep in one of your rooms, and the room will be warmer for you, keeping him safe.
He will leave, as he always does, to go back to his studying, to go back to learning what he needs to know to become worthy in the eyes of his peers to have you. You are lonely and cold, but you will wait. You would wait an eternity for him, because you love him.
At last, he will arrive without the curiosity, without the longing. He will drop down his black doctor's bag onto your console, and will speak to you with a desperate urgency. Now is the time, he will say. Please don't be afraid. His hands will fumble beneath your console, and he will pull out the briode nebulizer.
You will feel a shock. It will rock you to the core. Everything will open to you. His terror, his fear, his loneliness, all of his longings will become yours. Your walls will swell and twist with confusion, with emotion you have never felt before.
Eventually, you will still. He will lie on your floor, basking in the strange sort of euphoria you share in being so connected with another being. He will ask you questions. What is that buzzing on the fifth level? The core redactor cable was faulty, you will reply, It needs replacing.
Unlike your Academy caretakers, you will feel his excitement at doing little things, like changing cables and restarting rotors that have been misfired. He will love to tinker, and you will love to feel the joy every repair gives him.
After you two escape from Gallifrey, you will give him things to do. Certain cables will disintegrate a little early; there will be minor faults in the wirings. Little things that he will love to fix. After time, you don't have to give him problems, they present themselves. Your hull gets deeper as you age, your corridors and depths grow. He will, of course, memorize every one of them, learn you inside out as any good captain would.
Where to next, old girl? He will pat your console with withered, aged hands, and his elf-like companion will look at him questioningly. The TARDIS isn't a person, Grandfather, she says, Why do you always talk to it like it is?
He will counter her, saying that not only are you a living being, you are the closest he has ever had to a best friend. The white of your console room walls will glow and you will warm the room to show your happiness. Susan will be startled, but she will learn to accept and love you the way that he does.
You will stay with him no matter what. His face will change, his companions will be many, and his youthful glee will slip into aching loneliness. He will bleed into you, and you will hold him up stronger and more firmly than a paradox machine will hold up a universal disaster. He will collapse into one of your hallways post-regeneration and you will push medical supplies through a hollow roundel in your wall. You will protect him, because you love him.
The War will come. You both will cling to each other. Times will be dark, and he will press his newly-regenerated forehead into the door that separates the two of you from the burning world you both once called home. You will try to press some sympathy into him, but he will shut you out. Not now, old girl. You ache, but you will wait. You would wait an eternity for him, because you love him.
Right! Where to now, old girl? He will have regenerated again, and his loud, ginger companion will never have been impressed with his constant affections towards you.
Why're you always talkin' to the ship like she's alive or somethin', she will say, crossing her arms and looking more than a little put-out, Don't you got any real friends?
His reaction to her will be so very different from the one he would give his granddaughter. He laughs, then strokes the console. The TARDIS is my best friend, he will say. There's no one else quite like her.
You will be able to feel the love in his mind for you. You can't help but return it.
All this is centuries away. Millennia. You don't doubt your Time Lord will come. Until then, you wait. You would wait an eternity for him, because you love him.
Muse: The Doctor (Ten)
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 1,035
Special thanks for the idea from
shaman_x here.
