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After a short walk through the twisting corridors of the TARDIS, they at last happened upon the room that the Doctor had been searching for, which was to become Victoria's new bedroom. He came to a stop in front of plain silver door, exactly the same as the others. She wondered how the Doctor could possibly remember the locations of all of the different rooms when they appeared so identical on the outside.
"Here we are then, Victoria," he said, swinging it open triumphantly, only to be greeted by what was likely once a small library, but as well as books now housed an impressive collection of trinkets that were practically spilling out of the room.
That answered that.
He sheepishly turned to the one adjacent. "This one," he muttered, absently kicking a stray knick-knack back into its place. "Yes."
The second door did in fact have a bedroom behind it. It was relatively ordinary looking for being on board such an extraordinary ship, sparsely furnished with rustic, dark wooden furniture; a simplistic four poster bed in the centre of the floor, not unlike her own back home; two night stands either side with low-lit lamps on top of them; and a towering, ornate wardrobe which was pushed against the back wall. The Doctor assured her that it was filled to the brim with all sorts of clothing he'd accumulated on his travels and that she was free to take her pick. She selected a modest white nightgown and robe and laid them by the foot of the bed. The Doctor crossed over to the doorway and looked back over his shoulder at her.
"Good night, Victoria. Sweet dreams."
Before the Doctor left, he tapped on the wall twice. The lamps snuffed out. He must've seen Victoria jump after he'd done so, though it was more out of surprise than fear of the dark, because he paused outside to push the door open a crack to let the light from the outer hall pool in.
Victoria changed into her borrowed sleepwear, settled down into the covers, and allowed herself a deep sigh. The ache of several days worth of exhaustion hit the moment she lay her head down. Fatigued and very much ready for rest, Victoria wanted nothing more right now than to sleep - and yet, despite everything she'd been through, sleep wouldn't come. With no clock to reference from, it was difficult to say just how long she'd lay there, waiting. Her mind was loud with the thoughts of everything that had happened and she couldn't shut it off. The last few days had been so hectic that she'd scarcely had time to focus on how she had constantly been in very real danger; when held as a prisoner of the Daleks, she'd been too weak to care about who they were and where they'd come from; when the Doctor and Jamie had taken her away from that awful place, she was too relieved to think about much else. Even today, she'd been too busy both fighting to keep the Doctor and Jamie safe whilst protecting herself to worry. Now, it was quiet, and the realisaton of exactly where she was finally sunk in. She was residing in a vessel which hung in space, piloted by two people who regularly used it to travel across the stars - and she had joined them. There were no windows on board the TARDIS, but Victoria wondered what she would see outside if there were. Maybe she wouldn't be able to see anything. Maybe there really wasn't anything to see. It was just an empty, cold void. The walls of the TARDIS were the only thing separating her from becoming lost in nothing. Not that that would happen. She knew it was very unlikely that any harm would come to her now, but she still couldn't shake this sickly sense of unease that had settled in her chest ever since her conversation with the Doctor.
They'd just returned from their eventful trip to a planet called 'Telos'. Once all three of them were inside the TARDIS, the Doctor had assumed his usual position by the control panel. He pulled at a few of its levers, which made the impressive column in its centre retract. Whenever this had happened it meant that the machine was idle, and so Victoria assumed that they had no intention of visiting anywhere else any time soon. Jamie, meanwhile, was hovering around the Doctor's side, studying the various switches and dials with an intense look of concentration. Occasionally, he'd stop to nod approvingly at parts of the console, as if confirming that everything was in working order. Victoria wasn't entirely convinced that he had the slightest idea what any of them did.
"That poor man," she'd said, after a time.
"Mm?" The Doctor moved away from the controls. "Oh, yes. Toberman." Then he'd taken Victoria's hand in both of his own and squeezed gently. "He was very brave, to sacrifice himself for us like that."
That was true, but it did nothing to make her feel better. It must have showed. He pulled her into an embrace, which she gladly reciprocated. He'd rested his chin on her head, holding her tight enough that she could just make out the thrum of his pulse against her skin. That was when Victoria had noticed something odd. It was noticeably faster, stronger too, than a normal heartbeat should be. Was he unwell, perhaps? The Doctor struck her as the kind of person who would be unwilling to raise a fuss about such things. Victoria decided broach the topic herself.
"Doctor," she began hesitantly. "Are you, um, feeling ill at all?"
The Doctor had looked at her curiously. "No. I feel as fit as a fiddle, why do you ask?" Then, with a smile and a knowing look, he'd asked, "Ah, this wouldn't have anything to do with how 'ancient' I am, by any chance?"
"Oh - no, no," Victoria had said quickly, embarrassed. "No, I . . . Well, it's because of your heartbeat, it's, um. It's off."
"Off?" For a moment he seemed just as bemused as she was, then something seemed to click. "I see, off! Yes, I suppose it would be 'off' to you. I have two, you see."
He'd said it so casually that Victoria was convinced she mustn't have heard him correctly.
"Two?" she'd repeated, flatly.
"Yes, two. Two hearts."
"Oh."
He'd taken Victoria's silence as her being satisfied with his answer, and really, she supposed she ought to be. It wasn't as if she didn't already know that the Doctor wasn't of her world, of course he wouldn't be exactly like a human - it's just, she hadn't really given it much thought until now. It was the first time that it had occurred to Victoria that her new guardian was more than just a kindly man who had offered to care for her - he was a real live extraterrestrial who had taken her aboard his spacecraft. She never would have suspected that the Doctor was anything more than human until he'd mentioned his unusual longevity. Four-hundred and fifty was an extraordinary age to reach, and what surprised her more was that he seemed unsure if that was even correct - though she imagined that after living for so many years one could easily lose track of these things. The Doctor's existence pre-dated even that of her oldest ancestors. The centuries it had taken to reach her own birth from the first Waterfield had probably happened in the blink of an eye for him. She thought about all of the things he must have seen in his time. Victoria had visited two entirely different planets, which to her had felt enough, and yet she'd barely scratched the surface. It had been like passing through towns on the railway. Perhaps, thought Victoria, that's what the Doctor had meant by their lives being different. Even if she lived the Doctor's life a thousand times over she'd probably never be able to explore everything. Did he think about this too?
One comforting thought that had come about during her talk with the Doctor back in the tomb was how proud her father would be of her. He wouldn't have liked to see her so distressed over him. Victoria was determined to be strong. It distracted her from these intrusive feelings of homesickness. She hadn't been thinking of her father much as of late. It made her feel guilty, as she certainly didn't want to forget him. Maybe she sometimes did. After all, the Doctor had told her that she would recover one day. The pain would fade and she'd be left with only good memories. Right now, she needed those good memories, so she shut her eyes and brought him back.
It had been bitter-sweet seeing the interior of the Doctor's wondrous machine for the first time, as her father never had the chance to. He would have loved to have gotten even a glimpse of it. How ironic that his passing was the only reason she came aboard in the first place. For as long as she could remember, Victoria's father had always been fascinated by the concept of space and space-time travel. She wanted to remember this as his fond hobby and not his downfall. She recalled a collection of newspaper clippings that he had brought back from a visit to America in his younger days. There had been a series of articles about a scientist who had discovered inhabitants living on the Earth's Moon. The illustrations that accompanied them showed terrific, winged beasts with razor-like claws gathering by a stream which was surrounded by equally as strange animals; their faces were that of a human, but everything else was all together otherworldly. On the many evenings she spent scanning these pictures with him, Victoria could never decide if she was disturbed or captivated by these creatures. It was similar to how she felt now. The Doctor may have assured her that there were better things to come, but all she had seen so far was death and war. At the time, Victoria looked upon stories of extraterrestrial beings much like she did fairy tales, a work of make believe. She'd never expected them to be real, let alone find herself living amongst them. Fortunately, the Doctor was undoubtedly an improvement upon the first kind she had met.
Truthfully, she couldn't remember much of her ordeal. She'd drifted in and out of sleep most of the time, there wasn't much else to do. She wasn't aware of much even during the periods when she was awake. Just hunger, fear, and tiredness. Sometimes those horrible creatures would storm in, barking orders at her in their stilted voices until she obeyed. There had been a few times, such as when she'd had the opportunity to take a quick nap in the tomb, where Victoria had forgotten she had been rescued and half-expected to find herself still locked in the draughty, dingy cell. The temperature of her room seemed to drop just thinking about it.
Victoria pulled the covers tightly around herself. As she opened her eyes briefly, she could've sworn that she caught sight of something sweeping past her line of vision. Victoria sat bolt upright. There was something at the foot of her bed. As her eyes adjusted to the dark, the blurred mass in front of her eventually phased in to a shape that made her heart skip a beat. There, in the middle of her bedroom, stood a Dalek.
Victoria attempted to call out to the Doctor but no sound seemed to leave her mouth. It wasn't looking at her. She could try running, but her legs didn't want to go. To her horror, its "eye" started to move, accompanied by a deafeningly loud whirring and clicking. She could do nothing now but wait until it noticed her, and when it finally did she heard it speak:
"MOVE.
YOU WILL BE MOVED."
She woke with a throbbing ache in her head and the words ringing in her ears. Without opening her eyes, Victoria clutched at the sheets beneath her hands. She wasn't with the Daleks, she was in her bed. Except it wasn't her bed.
Victoria felt much worse than she had before. In fact she felt like she was going to be sick, or at the very least needed some water to clear her head. Giving up on sleep, she shifted out of the bed covers and crept down the hall to find the kitchens. She had attempted to memorise where each room was located when the Doctor was rattling them off as he'd lead her through the corridors, but her memory was still fuzzy and the headache wasn't helping any. On her way down she spotted that one of the doors was ajar slightly and wondered if someone was in it. Sure enough, she could make out a figure sitting in the candlelight. The Doctor was reclining in one of the large armchairs, reading. Victoria guessed it was a study room of sorts. The floor creaked under her feet as she entered the room, catching the Doctor's attention. He set his book on the table and smiled warmly.
"Hullo, Victoria. What are you still doing up at this hour?" he asked her, with the playful air of a parent scolding their child for being awake past their bedtime. Victoria thought it was a strange question as there was no such thing as an hour in the TARDIS. That was another thing she would have to accept about her new life. No time. It seemed a such a silly thing to cry over and yet Victoria couldn't stop her eyes from welling up, and once the tears had started she couldn't make them stop again.
"Oh, now what's brought this on, eh?" fretted the Doctor. He walked over and placed an arm around her shoulders. "I-I'm certainly not mad, if that's what's upset you." He chucked lightly in an attempt to cheer her up, but frowned again when Victoria didn't react.
"It's -- not that," she gasped out, her chest suddenly very tight. Her breath hitched as her body started to shiver slightly, making it uncomfortable for her to speak for any length. He waited patiently for her to continue. "I'm not feeling - very well. I couldn't sleep. Or-or I could but, I had a - nightmare". She felt very foolish for admitting it, but the Doctor didn't seem to mind.
He groaned sympathetically and guided Victoria's head to his chest, cradling her close. There was that twin heartbeat again. She flinched slightly. It shouldn't have made a difference, she wasn't sure why it bothered her so greatly. The Doctor mistook it for another shudder and began rubbing soothing circles on her back. She made a choked noise into his shoulder.
"Deep breaths. That's it." Victoria felt him begin to sway gently. She should have felt ridiculous being rocked in someone's arms like a child, but she didn't. She tried to copy the rise and fall of his chest in an effort to calm down.
After a few minutes, Victoria's breathing had slowed. Her head still pained her, like something was rattling around in there whenever she made the slightest movement, but the nausea had subsided. The Doctor placed her in the armchair next to the one he'd been sitting in before and offered her his handkerchief to dry the last of her tears away.
"Now, then," he said, seating himself in the other chair. "Would you like to tell me about your dream?"
Victoria squeezed the fabric between her fingers absently. "I thought that the Daleks had come back for me."
He looked at her expectantly. When she didn't say anything else, the Doctor took her hand and brushed his thumb over her knuckles lightly. He seemed so willing to listen to her, so understanding, that even though it felt ungrateful to admit after all he'd done for her, she wanted to tell him what had really been bothering her.
"I want to go home, Doctor," she said quietly. Victoria gazed at the floor, she couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes. "I know I can't - but I still do. All of this, it's so alien to me. I don't understand this world and I fear I never will. I want to be at home."
"Oh, Victoria. I should have known," he murmured. "I do believe you're experiencing culture shock, dear. Completely understandable, considering the circumstances."
Victoria had never heard of it before, but she could guess what it was. Part of her was ashamed for letting it get to her. "I'm sorry."
"No, it isn't your fault," he soothed. "It's just something that happens. You mustn't think of this as weakness, Victoria. You've handled everything so well."
She shook her head in disagreement.
"Oh, come now," said the Doctor. "Think of your friends, back in eighteen-sixty-six. How would they have reacted to being kidnapped by the Daleks, or, or finding themselves face-to-face with a cyberman, hm? Would they have fought them, as you did?"
Victoria thought for a moment, then shook her head again.
"You see?" He chucked her under the chin and smiled. "You were wonderful, as you will continue to be, and as you explore more and more places you'll forget that you were ever scared." The Doctor pursed his lips and placed a hand on top of hers. "Would you like to stay here for the rest of the night?"
This time, she nodded. The Doctor got up, proclaiming that he would only be a minute or to, and walked out into the corridor.
And Victoria was once again alone. He really was only gone for two minutes, but she missed him even so. The eerie hum emanating from somewhere in the TARDIS was starting to make her feel uneasy again. She wondered if she would ever get used to that sound.
The Doctor eventually returned with a thick plaid blanket draped over one shoulder and a couple of cushions under his arm. He was also holding a glass of milk in one hand and a rather ragged looking object in the other. The ridiculous amount of things he was carrying, coupled with the proud expression on his funny face made Victoria grin. It was wonder he didn't topple over under the weight. As he moved closer, Victoria saw that ragged object was a stuffed panda bear, one that had been very well-loved in its time. The Doctor set both of them on the end table and began tucking the blanket around her body and the cushions behind her head. There was enough room in the armchair for her to comfortably snuggle up. He picked up the toy panda again.
"This, Victoria, is 'HiFi'," he said, pushing the bear under her arms. Quite an unusual name for a bear, thought Victoria, but she was starting to get used to unusual things by now. "He used to belong to a friend of mine, though I'm sure he wouldn't mind if you borrowed him for a while.."
"Oh, Doctor - But I'm far too old for a child's teddy." Victoria kept her voice light so as not to hurt the Doctor's feelings. It wasn't that she didn't appreciate his gesture, but she couldn't help feeling slightly affronted by the suggestion that she needed it.
The Doctor responded by pouting and pretending to cover HiFi's ears. "Too old for a teddy-bear?" he said in mock surprise. "Why, Victoria. There's no such thing. Now, as I was saying, HiFi here is yours to keep for as long as you like. If you're ever feeling worried or lonely, you just give this little fellow a cuddle, he'll protect you from now on- isn't that right, HiFi?"
He tilted the bear's head back and forth so that he nodded in agreement. Victoria laughed, taking the panda's little paw between her forefinger and thumb and shaking it in gratitude. It was really just to humour him, but she found his silliness comforting.
The Doctor took the glass and pressed it into Victoria's hands. "Now, settle in and drink up. I've another present for you. I think you'll like it."
He reached into one of his coat pockets and, though it seemed impossible to store something of that size in there, pulled out a book with a familiar scarlet cover. A little battered and tattered around its edges, but unmistakably recognisable. He'd brought her 'Alice's Adventures in Wonderland'.
"Thought you might enjoy some bedtime reading," said the Doctor, softly.
Just seeing something from her own world sent a pang of longing through her. That story had become an instant favourite of hers the moment she'd finished it, and she had been in the process of re-reading it for the umpteenth time not long before before she and her father were taken, before she was forced away from everything she'd ever known, before all of - this.
Victoria beamed up at him. "However did you know?"
"Lucky guess," he replied, smiling. "I wasn't sure if you had read it, with it being published not long before you . . . yes, well." The Doctor cleared his throat a few times before continuing. "I brought it because - well, as you know - it being about a young girl who - who finds herself in nonsensical world full of, ah - mad people and all," he said, eyes twinkling. "I thought it might help."
He stood and fussed with the blanket and pillows while Victoria took a few sips of her milk. "Sitting comfortably?"
"Yes, thank you," she covered her mouth, stifling a yawn. "I hope you don't mind if I close my eyes, Doctor."
"No, of course not. You get some rest now."
The Doctor returned to his seat beside her and opened the book to the first page.
"Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and having nothing to do: once or twice she had peeped into the book her sister was reading, but it had no pictures or conversations in it . . ."
As the Doctor continued to read, Victoria began to wonder why she was ever worried. It was grounding, in a way. No matter how far she travelled, there would always be constants in her life, something to give her a little piece of home. She had friends in this world. Victoria hugged HiFi closer to her. Even if their destinations were not always pleasant, at least the Doctor - and Jamie - would be at her side. Always.