Work Text:
“Final check completed,” the voice of the woman in Space Control crackles over the radio, cool and collected as always. “All systems now go.”
The Doctor’s own vascular systems are also going, he notices; his hearts pounding unreasonably fast, his very nerves itching with the anticipation of takeoff. He swallows.
“All set, Doctor?” It’s Professor Cornish speaking now. “Liftoff fifteen seconds.”
“It’s about time, too,” the Doctor returns dryly.
There’s a mystery to be solved, and people to be saved. Radioactive aliens on Earth and missing humans in space, and once again it falls to the Doctor to sort it out and do his best to prevent any further loss of life.
But in this particular moment, preparing to be launched into space, he’s not thinking of the mission at all.
Three… two… one… zero.
Even the G-force — strong enough to paralyze a human, and intense even for a Time Lord — can’t lessen the sheer thrill of lifting off, leaving Earth behind. For a moment, he allows himself to pretend this is a flight to freedom. An escape from the backwards, blue planet that is his prison; a return to the length and breadth of the cosmos.
It isn’t true, of course. This primitive, rickety rocket can’t reach out of orbit, let alone to the Time Vortex. He’s just as trapped in Recovery 7 as ever he is on Earth. And anyway, he couldn’t leave the TARDIS behind.
But for a moment, just a moment, the Doctor lets himself pretend.