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Rest days on the TARDIS were an odd thing. On one hand, you were grateful for a moment to yourself in between all the running and sorting out fair play across the universe, but on the other hand, you were itching to get back out those doors and experience something new. Even the Doctor, known for her endless energy and enthusiasm, emphasised the importance of these days, albeit more so for you than herself.
“Humans need at least eight hours of sleep, and I don’t see you getting enough,” she tutted at you earlier during a chat around the console. The ship had already dimmed the lights in an attempt to create an artificial night-time; in other words, a gentle cue for you to go to bed. “Especially when we’re up and about every day. If you’re not going to sleep, at least have some downtime for yourself, eh? Rest is really important, and you haven’t been getting enough of it lately.”
“I suppose you have a point,” you nodded, arms crossed. She did. A very valid point, in fact – but being told to sleep and actually going to sleep were two completely different things to you. In fact, you couldn’t even remember how many hours you’d been awake for this time around, just that it was probably too many. “It’s just hard to get my mind to settle down. I close my eyes and all I see is the planet we visited that day, or my thoughts start to run in circles. Surely you’d understand? You’ve got many more years of memories than I do.”
The Doctor paused her fumbling with the console to look up at you.
“Well, yeah, technically,” she said. “But I also don’t need anywhere near as much as sleep as you humans do. Plus, I have plenty to keep myself occupied. There’s always repairs to be done. Not a walk in the park, you know, maintaining a TARDIS.”
You also had plenty to keep yourself occupied, if you were honest with yourself. However, there was really no use arguing with her on this matter. From the beginning of your travels together, she’d go on and on about the importance of regular sleep cycles. Keeping track of time onboard the TARDIS was difficult, though, and even more so when you found yourselves wandering an alien planet where the sun, or suns, would rise and set at different times. Once, you spent weeks on a planet where there was constant daylight. Or, well, you assumed it was weeks – couldn’t really tell. It was disorienting, and strangely enough, you almost got used to it. The bags under your eyes said otherwise, though.
“Anyway, go and get some rest,” she urged, flapping a hand at you. “Even if you can’t sleep, rest your brain. There’s plenty of books to read in the library, you know. Just avoid the horror section. That probably won’t help.”
You pushed yourself back from the crystal pillar you were leaning against and nodded. After all this time travelling with her, you understood this to be more of a direction rather than a suggestion.
“No, I get you,” you said, walking to the other side of the console and standing next to her, your focus more pointed towards the staircase that leads into the corridor and to your bedroom. “Right, I’ll try and get some rest. Can’t guarantee I’ll sleep, though.” The Doctor turned her focus to you and pressed her lips together.
“That’s what we like to hear,” she said, giving you a pat on the shoulder. “Go on, then. I’ll be in here if you need me.”
And with that, you walked up the steps and down the corridor, heading towards your room. When you walked in, you were greeted by your usual calming space; shelves lined with books, desk covered in craft supplies and postcards from different alien planets stuck to the walls. Some of them the Doctor had brought you on the rare occasion you returned to earth for a bit, usually hesitantly, and she went off on her own. Didn’t want you to miss out, she would say, before launching into a series of rambles about the incredible things she saw with stars in her eyes.
The TARDIS had done you a favour by dimming the lights in your room as well, but not turning them off entirely – she knew you well enough by now that you likely wouldn’t be asleep for a while. You pulled the chair back from your desk and sat down, rummaging through your craft supplies and reorganising them in a way that wouldn’t threaten a headache every time you looked at your desk. Aside from that, you also took the chance to water your plants and put some fresh sheets on your bed, in the hope that might motivate you to sleep. Pretty wishful thinking, in your opinion.
Lastly, you grabbed your favourite book off the shelf and settled down on the bed. Unfortunately, there was not a single hint of heaviness in your eyelids. You were infinitely more likely to hop out of bed for another adventure before getting that first yawn in, but there was no arguing with the Doctor when she was concerned for your wellbeing. Thus, you propped yourself up against a few pillows and flicked open your book, ready to dive into the story once more. And in all honesty, you did enjoy yourself like that for several hours, occasionally looking up to appreciate the trinkets in your now tidy room.
The only thing that broke you free from your reading streak was the sound of the door opening slowly. You raised your eyes off the page just in time to see the Doctor peeking into your room. You made eye contact briefly before she pulled the door open a little more and squeezing through.
“Hey,” you said, placing your book face-down in your lap.
“Hi, just checking to see if you were asleep, but I should’ve known better,” the Doctor said, walking up to your bed, hands behind her back. “At least you’re resting. How do you feel? Tired?”
“Not really,” you sighed, straightening up your posture a little. “Not any more tired than earlier, I’m afraid.”
The Doctor pressed her lips together and pushed out a breath. You weren’t sure what you could read in her expression. Maybe some disappointment, perhaps with a dash of knowing. You could tell by the way she walked into the room that she didn’t really expect you to be asleep, but still held on to some hope.
“So, you like your postcards, then?” She nodded towards the cards stuck to the wall by your bed. “You’re compiling quite the collection here.”
“Yeah, I do like them,” you glanced over at them, cracking a smile. “Especially the ones you got me.”
The Doctor crouched and leant forward, cocking her head to the side as she got a closer look at them. A smile spread across her cheeks as her eyes moved across the cards, remembering the memories attached to them.
“Tell you what,” she turned to you. “These ones that I got you. Pick one.”
You furrowed your brows as you placed your book on your bedside table and shuffled along the mattress to get a closer look. The Doctor wasn’t wrong. You certainly had quite a few of them, but you devoted a specific section to the ones she had given you – right across the top. She stepped back, giving you some space to look over them.
You had some excellent options in front of you. One of the cards came from a mountainous planet with cliffs made of amethyst. Another came from a place with underwater skyscrapers and glowing fish. Your eyes also glossed over the most recent one she gifted you, a holographic card from a planet where all the plant life was glow-in-the-dark. The planets of the universe never ceased to amaze you.
“Why am I choosing?”
“Just pick,” she encouraged, pointing at the cards.
You turned back to the wall, scanning over the cards, and your eyes landed on a particular one of a lush green hillside covered in wildflowers. The backdrop boasted snow-capped mountains and a blue sky with two full moons visible, which perhaps was the only thing that suggested it wasn’t taken on earth. Something about the picture captivated you, and the Doctor noticed before you said anything.
“The hills of Temerth, on the planet of Gion. It’s quite similar to earth, actually. It’s a planet in the constellation of Cancer,” she said, pointing at the card. “I visited a spectacular market there a while back. I think that’s the first card I got you, actually.”
“It’s really beautiful,” you said, still not taking your eyes off the card. The picture seemed so dreamy – the grass looked so soft, it looked like something out of a fantasy movie.
“It certainly is. I think your lot will discover it around half a century from your time. It’ll be big news, because it’s so similar to earth,” she turned back towards the door. “But no spoilers. Never one to spoil things, am I?”
You scoffed, stifling a giggle. “I s’pose not, no.”
“Excellent. In that case, you wanna go see it?”
Your expression lit up. You had a feeling she might suggest that, but didn’t want to get your hopes up because she was pretty insistent on you getting some shut-eye. However, spontaneity was her game, and you were more than happy to play along with her.
“Of course!” You jumped to your feet. “When? Now?”
“Well, clearly you’re not sleeping, are you?” She elbowed you playfully, then pointed her eyes towards the open doorway. “Let’s get going.”
The two of you bolted down to the console room, as you’d done so many times before. The excitement of setting foot on a different planet never got old to you; you kept track of every single one you visited through your journal and postcards, and yet, the prospect of it never became boring. Who knew what was in store this time?
The Doctor wasted no time, bounding down the steps and around the console, punching in coordinates for the planet. You stood there, watching her, waiting for instructions to see if you could help. She reassured you that she had it under control, and to just sit tight. Suddenly, a realisation came to you, and you turned on your heels to head back up to steps with the mission to retrieve something from your bedroom.
“Where you going? Change your mind?” The Doctor asked, a hint of disappointment in her voice. Her hand sat frozen on the switch that would set the TARDIS in motion.
“Oh, no no,” you backtracked, gesturing towards the corridor. “I just thought I should grab my jacket.”
“Won’t need that,” she reassured before flicking the switch down in one smooth motion, letting the familiar wheezing sound of the TARDIS fill the air. “Permanent summer on Gion. It’s always comfortably warm. That’s part of its appeal! It’s sunny 459 out its 502 calendar days.”
You raised your eyebrows in surprise and clumsily turned back around. It seems you’d really picked the right postcard, unintentionally. You weren’t sure if you could handle another trip where you were steadily shivering throughout your whole visit, with the Doctor’s constant comments about how you should’ve brought a jacket, then you wouldn’t be so cold.
The Doctor walked up to you, giving you a curious look. You knew that look. It’s the look she gave you when you didn’t follow her instructions to look after yourself. Concerned, confused, with a hint of disappointment. You knew you had somewhat of a lecture coming your way, so you beat her to the punch.
“I struggle to get to sleep, Doctor,” you placed your hands in your pockets, giving her the same look she was giving you. “I really do try, though.”
“I know you try,” she said. “I just worry about you sometimes. Afraid you’re going to fall asleep on me one day when we’re hiding from some Sontarans. You ever think about that? Is there any other reason you can’t sleep?”
You rolled your eyes and scoffed, but only through a smile.
“That’s not going to happen, and I think you know that,” you said. “I’m not just going to drop out when all the action is happening. Besides, I don’t see you resting, like, ever.”
The Doctor turned back to the console. Her classic way of avoiding the question.
“We’ve had this conversation, haven’t we? I think I’ve got déjà vu now,” she looked at something on the console, pretending not to feel your eyes on her back. “I don’t need to rest anywhere near as much as you humans do.”
“Yeah, but I don’t see you resting at all,” you stepped forward until you were standing next to her. She shuffled around until your shoulders were touching, which took her by surprise, and her head jolted around to meet your gaze. “I try my best to take care of myself, but I’m not so sure I see you trying at all. You deserve the rest just as much as I do.”
“Fine, okay,” she threw her hands up in defense. “Okay. No running this trip, alright? I’ll make sure we do something nice and relaxing for you… er, for both of us.”
You nodded, very pleased with yourself that you managed to convince her so easily. She turned back to the console briefly, adjusting the coordinates a little, then turned back to you.
“Down the corridor, past the macaroon dispensers, fifth door on the right. I think that’s where I put it,” she thought aloud, ghosting her hand over your lower back to give you a push.
“Put what?”
“Picnic basket. Can you fetch it please? We’ll be there very soon.”
You felt a rush of excitement and immediately disappeared down the corridor in search of the basket. Soon enough, you found yourself in a sort of storage room stacked floor to ceiling with all sorts of odds-and-ends. Ice skates, 3D glasses, gardening gloves, mechanical parts, an electric guitar, and much, much more. Organised chaos to the Doctor, but just chaos to you. You did, however, spot a wicker picnic basket underneath one of the lower shelves, which you picked up in a swift motion before heading back out the door.
By the time you returned to the console room, the TARDIS had stabilised. The Doctor was already waiting with her hand on the door, and her eyes lit up at the sight of you coming down the steps with the basket in hand.
“Brilliant, you found it then,” she enthused, beckoning you to come closer. “Let’s get going, shall we?”
She swung the door open and your jaw dropped at the green rolling hills and mountains that lay before you. The fields were dotted with splashes of colour from the wildflowers that rolled through the hills. A gentle breeze blew through your hair as you stepped out, placing the basket down to get a good view of everything around you.
Not only had the Doctor taken you to the planet from your postcard, she took you to the exact location the picture was taken in. It was identical; even the moons in the sky appeared to be in the same position. As you marvelled in the realisation, the Doctor laid out a patchwork blanket behind you, pinning down one of the corners with the weight of the basket. You gazed out over the expanse of the mountains, observing every peak and crevice in the distance, noticing how snow seemingly covered every inch.
At last, a tap on your shoulder. You spun around to find the Doctor standing there, a yellow flower tucked behind her ear. You looked down at her hands and saw that they were clasped together around a small bouquet of wildflowers.
“Got you a little something,” she smiled, pushing the flowers into your hands. That smile of hers – in the worst of times, it brought hope, but in the best of times, it brought with it the birth of new stars, unearthly and dazzling, right in front of your very eyes. The brightness of her eyes in moments like these could drown out the brightest star in the night sky, to you anyway. You broke into a grin, gratefully taking the flowers from her hands, noticing the way her fingers brushed against yours as you did so.
You glanced over her shoulder to find the picnic fully set up with a plate of biscuits, a bowl of fruit and a jug of iced tea sitting atop the blanket, waiting.
“Oh, my stars, this is incredible,” you breathed. “What did I do to deserve you?”
“I saw the way you looked at those cards and I didn’t want you to miss out,” she said as the two of you walked over to the blanket, taking a seat next to one another. You took off your shoes so you could fully get comfortable, and crossed your legs. Closer up, you noticed the food in detail – custard creams, of course – and a selection of your favourite fruits. She’d clearly remembered what they were. You basked in the rays of sunlight caressing your skin, although the real warmth came from the woman sitting next to you.
“How did all of this fit inside the basket?”
“It’s bigger on the inside,” she tapped the side of her head as she grabbed a biscuit. “Time lord technology.”
“Of course,” you nodded, pinching a piece of fruit. Because why wouldn’t she dimensionally engineer a picnic basket? How very Doctor of her.
“You never answered my question,” she started. You turned to her with a frown, just in time to see her reach for another biscuit.
“What question?”
“Well, earlier on the TARDIS, I asked you if there’s any other reasons you can’t sleep. Just wondering,” she said in between bites. You dropped your shoulders, gazing back out across the hills.
“I s’pose there is,” you started. “I guess it’s what I said earlier, in a way. Brain running in circles. Sometimes my thoughts dwell on the amazing things we saw that day. Sometimes I think about the future too much. Sometimes I worry… well, I worry about you. Especially when you’re out and I’m not with you, I mean, well…” You trailed off at the end of your sentence, smacking your hands down on your knees and giving a shrug. She paused her chewing to frown at you, trying to understand.
“I’m not made of glass,” she said, not breaking her gaze with you. “I’m not just going to shatter. I’ll be okay. But what about you? Will you be okay?”
You shrugged again, diverting your focus to the scenery spread out in front of you. “I suppose I’m fine.”
“Just fine isn’t good enough though, is it?” She shook her head, shuffling a little closer to you. You felt her arm snake around your side, pulling you tighter to her, and you jumped a little. You couldn’t remember the last time the two of you had been this close – or if you had ever been this close, for that matter. You could feel her eyes searching you, and when you turned your focus to her, your heart skipped a beat when your mind clicked into place and realised just how close she was to you.
“Oh dear, look at your tired eyes. You do look quite sleepy,” she said ever so softly and delicately, as if the sound of her voice could ever hurt you. “Sorry for barging into your room earlier. I hope I didn’t wake you up even more.”
“Sorry for barging in on you in your room earlier. You did look a little bit sleepy, I hope I didn’t wake you up even more.”
“You never bother me. You make all my grey days clear,” you said. “Besides, I wasn’t tired, honest. Just relaxing, like you suggested.”
She nodded against you, and the two of you sat there, enjoying the scenery. The Doctor listed off facts about the forests down the hill and the creatures that lived in the trees. She told you about the mountains, how they were older than the earth you knew and loved, and how many of them were unconquered. She told you about the market she visited and promised to take you there when you were not clearly exhausted, in her words. If we go during the festival of the moon, you can try those little moon pastries. Imagine the sweetest strawberry you’ve ever eaten. They taste a little like that.
You enjoyed listening to her chat about everything and nothing. Her voice was so gentle – she was incredibly soft-spoken, and the sound of her voice brought you a sense of peace that settled deep into your soul, especially being so close to your ear.
Additionally, the air was beautifully silent apart from the occasional breeze that would blow the Doctor’s hair into your face, followed by her hurrying to tuck it behind her ear and rushing out an apology before continuing her story. Several clouds floated lazily across the sky, and somehow, you eventually ended up with your head in the Doctor’s lap.
You laid there for some amount of time, listening to her talk, occasionally opening your eyes to watch the clouds drift by or notice the way the sunlight brought out the glow in her hair. She’d pause her ramblings to smile at you before launching straight into another topic.
You weren’t sure when she started softly massaging the back of your head. You also weren’t sure when you eventually drifted off to sleep, just that the sheer perfection of the moment was enough to lull you into a slumber. As you fell asleep, you thought you could distantly hear her whisper a “sleep well,” before pressing a kiss to your forehead and continuing to gently rub the back of your head with her thumbs.
Some moments were difficult. Some were okay, and some were perfect – then, very rarely, came a moment that was beyond perfect. This was undoubtedly one of them.