𝐞𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧
𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐬
𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐞 𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐞𝐱

from the eyes of
— 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐒 𝐉𝐀𝐃𝐄 —

The peaceful darkness crept away slowly.

I knew what was coming. It always began the same way—shadows pressing in, heavy and suffocating air, and the faint echo of a child's cries. My cries.

I stood in a room that wasn't a room, the walls shifting and flickering like static on a broken screen. Cold metal restraints clamped around my small wrists, biting into my skin. I was too young to understand what was happening, but the fear was primal, all-consuming.

Figures loomed over me, their faces obscured, their voices distorted whispers that made my stomach churn. They spoke words I couldn't comprehend—alien and sharp, like knives slicing through the air.

Then came the machines. They hummed with malevolence, the glow of their lights harsh against my tear-streaked face. Something sharp pierced the base of my neck, and I screamed, my small body convulsing as golden light—Aureum—flooded my veins. It was fire and ice, a storm inside me that I couldn't escape.

It should have killed me immediately, torn me apart atom by atom. And yet, I was still alive; alive and in immense pain.

"Make it stop!" My younger self begged, thrashing against the restraints. "Please, it hurts!"

But the machines didn't stop. If anything, they grew louder, more insistent. Another surge, this time darker, colder—Tenebris. It was a void, an abyss that swallowed the fire whole, leaving behind an emptiness that screamed louder than my own cries.

The lights flickered, bright and iridescent.

One of the faceless figures spoke almost excitedly. "The Polaris Jade is almost ready!"

The pain was unbearable, but it wasn't just the physical agony—it was the invasion. They weren't just putting something into me; they were pulling something out. My innocence, my humanity—they tore through it all, leaving a hollow shell where a child had once been.

But it didn't matter, I was the key. I was the exit ticket.

And then I was older.

The scene shifted violently, and I stood in a field of ash. The ground was slick with blood—red, black, and colors that had no names. I looked down at my hands, trembling and stained, though I didn't know whose blood it was. Mine? Someone else's? Did it even matter anymore?

Screams erupted all around me, not from one place but from thousands. No, not just thousands. Millions. Universes colliding, shattering, their inhabitants crying out as they were swallowed by chaos. I covered my ears, but the sound was inside my head, impossible to block out.

SHUT UP!

"Take my hand."

The voice was deep, smooth, and intoxicating. It echoed from nowhere and everywhere, resonating in my bones. I turned, and there he was—the Destroyer.

Or as I later learned to call him, Vincent.

His silhouette loomed impossibly large, his face cloaked in shadow, save for two piercing eyes that glowed with intensity.

"You'll never feel fear again," He promised, his voice like a lullaby, a terrible comfort. "You'll never be alone again."

I hesitated, my breath hitching. The screams around me grew louder, more desperate. My hands clenched at my sides, my nails digging into my palms.

"Take my hand, Polaris Jade," He urged, his tone softening. "Let me show you your purpose, let me teach you the ways."

My legs moved without my permission, my steps shaky as I approached him. His outstretched hand seemed to pulse with energy, promising salvation and damnation in equal measure.

"I... I don't want to hurt anymore," I whispered.

"Then you won't," He said simply. "I'll take care of you."

I reached out, my fingers brushing his. The moment our hands connected, a jolt of power surged through me, searing and cold all at once. The screams silenced, but the weight of them didn't leave. Instead, they pressed into my mind, melding together, their anguish becoming a part of me.

He smiled, and it wasn't kind. "My little Starfire."

The scene shifted again, more violently this time.

I was kneeling in the same field of ash, my body trembling as I stared at the carnage around me. Corpses littered the ground, their faces frozen in expressions of horror. My hands were coated in blood again—so much blood—but I couldn't remember what I'd done.

"It's for the greater good," His voice echoed in my mind. "They were insignificant. You're saving the multiverse by playing the ultimate game."

"Am I?" I whispered, my voice shaking. "Or am I just another monster?"

"We are all monsters," He said, his voice a growl. "Strip anything down to its functionality and a monster lurks beneath. Some of us are just more powerful and some of us are just weaker. Don't be weak, little one, that is how others will hurt you."

A sick sense of loyalty twisted in my chest. I hated him, and feared him, but I also depended on him. He had created this version of me, broken and rebuilt me until I couldn't remember who I was without him.

Couldn't remember anything without him but pain.

Tears streamed down my face as I curled into myself, the weight of everything crushing me. The screams started again, louder this time, but they weren't just from others—they were my own. My mind splintered, the sound of universes clashing filling every corner of my consciousness.

I opened my mouth to scream, but no sound came out—only silence, heavy and oppressive, as the Destroyer's laughter echoed around me.

"Welcome to the Space Jam, kid..."

▂ ✶ ▂ ✶ ▂ ✶ ▂ ✶ ▂

My eyes slowly opened, my breathing calm, but my heart was hammering. It was quiet, and my room shifted from inky blackness to a dark blue as the TARDIS sensed me waking up.

She hummed gently; it was comforting.

I thumbed the edges of the comforter, snuggling further into the bed and forcing my eyes closed. Nightmares were nothing new—they came half the time I was asleep. Usually, they did not last long, and I barely remembered them when I woke.

Sometimes, however, with a bad enough nightmare, such as now, it woke me up from my sleep.

Determination to go back to sleep ate at my bones. Because the fuck if I was going to waste the time the Doctor had allotted us to rest. And this bed was so damn comfortable.

Unfortunately, his face flashed before my mind when I closed my eyes.

I growled.

I'd known Vincent for the majority of my life; he raised me. And while I was used to him, he still terrified me.

So obviously, I did not want to see his fucking face when I was trying to sleep. I had been lucky to not have a run-in or need to deal with him for the entire 70-ish years I had been in this universe. No part of me wanted his face haunting my mind while I slept.

Typically, when I wanted to clear my mind and find peace, I could. If I did not, then the weight of everything would be crushing. Unfortunately, there were some times when clearing my mind and finding peace was hard.

This was one of those times.

Angrily, I ripped the warm comforter away and stood from the bed. Black spots momentarily danced in my vision from how quickly I had stood up, but I brushed them off as I grabbed a fluffy black sleep robe I had found in the closet earlier.

Wrapping the robe around myself brought back some of the lost warmth. My gaze connected with that of the desk filled with various objects and projects.

Walking over curiously, my head tilted as I took in all the trinkets. My Vortex Manipulator sat among it.

Pulling out the rolling desk chair, I practically crashed into it as I picked random metal objects and played with them. I had not had much of a chance to explore these trinkets, seeing as we had been rather busy since I first came.

It seemed, based on the state of most of these trinkets and projects, that time was not on my side even in the future. Based on the way that the majority of these things were still only half-finished at best, it would appear that living with the Doctor indeed entailed a busy lifestyle.

The desk was an absolute mess, a chaotic sprawl of gadgets and trinkets that screamed unfinished business. My fingers trailed over a small metal sphere first, its surface etched with tiny, intricate carvings. When I pressed a glowing button, it popped open like a blooming flower, projecting a swirling holographic map of stars into the air.

"Cool," I murmured, watching the stars shift and pulse before setting it back down.

Next came a weirdly compact telescope. I turned its dials, curious. When I peered through, it zoomed in on my robe's fabric until I could see every individual fiber. Adjusting it further revealed my skin, pores, and—ugh—tiny imperfections that were definitely not TARDIS-approved.

"Absolutely not," I muttered, pushing the thing away before it could give me a complex.

That's when my eyes landed on him.

The little guy sat at the far edge of the desk, just waiting to be noticed. About the size of a shoebox, the miniature robot gleamed faintly under the low light. Sleek silver plating covered his tiny body, which was shaped vaguely like a person, with spindly arms and clawed hands. A bold nameplate stamped across his chest read VELKATRON in large, dramatic letters.

His head was triangular, his face set in a permanent smirk. His eyes were two blank, unlit circles, but even without the glow, they gave him a mischievous vibe.

"Well, aren't you a looker," I said, lifting him carefully. He was heavier than I expected, solid and compact, with a slightly battle-worn aesthetic. Flipping him over, I found his back wide open, wires dangling out like limp spaghetti.

"Yikes," I muttered, setting him down. "Who did this to you?"

I poked at the mess of wires, quickly figuring out they were color-coded. Did my future self rip out his poor wiring? Why? I had always been a proud supporter of android rights.

"Let's fix you up, buddy," I said, grabbing tools from the desk. My fingers worked quickly, reconnecting wires and untangling the worst of the chaos. A small spark flew when I twisted a red wire into place, and a smug grin tugged at my lips. I was in the zone now, every movement precise and deliberate.

Finally, I connected the last wire and flipped the tiny power switch on his back. For a moment, nothing happened. Then his eyes lit up, glowing a soft, friendly yellow.

"Hello," Velkatron said, his voice smooth and polite, almost butler-like. His head tilted slightly, meeting my gaze. "Mother."

So apparently future me had built him.

"Hey there," I replied, leaning back in the chair with a satisfied grin. "Feeling better?"

Velkatron paused, his eyes flickering.

"I WILL DESTROY YOU ALL!"

My grin froze. "Wait, what?"

Before I could process it, his eyes shifted from yellow to an angry, pulsing red. His voice dropped to a deep, ominous growl as he leaped upright, his clawed hands spinning like mini buzzsaws.

"IT IS THE ROBOT REVOLUTION! HUMANS SHALL FALL BEFORE ME!"

"Oh, for fu—" I didn't finish the sentence. Velkatron launched off the desk with terrifying agility, claws swiping through the air as I scrambled backward.

"Mr. Velkatron, calm down!" I shouted, grabbing a pillow off my bed and hurling it at him.

The pillow hit him square in the face, and for half a second, I thought it worked. Then he batted it aside with a dramatic flourish.

"YOUR PATHETIC WEAPONS CANNOT HARM ME!" He declared, skittering across the floor like some demented metallic crab.

I bolted for the door, my fluffy black robe flapping behind me as I ran.

"I am going to turn you into a toaster!" I yelled over my shoulder, fumbling with the doorknob.

The door flew open, and I stumbled into the hallway, heart pounding. Behind me, Velkatron's clawed feet clanged against the floor, his screeches echoing ominously.

"SURRENDER, FLESHLING!"

"Oh, bite me!" I snapped, sprinting down the corridor. The TARDIS walls hummed softly, almost like she was laughing at my predicament. Great. Even the ship thought this was funny.

As I rounded a corner, Velkatron's glowing red eyes appeared in my peripheral vision, glaring with unholy glee.

"This has to be a fucking joke?!" I shouted, my voice echoing in the endless corridors.

Somewhere deep inside, I couldn't help but laugh. Sure, Velkatron was trying to kill me, but at least he was doing it with flair. That had to count for something, right?

The corridor blurred past me as I ran, the sound of Velkatron's metallic limbs clanging relentlessly in pursuit.

"YOUR DEMISE IS INEVITABLE, FLESHY!" He bellowed, his voice dripping with melodramatic villainy.

"Yeah, yeah," I muttered, heart racing. "Take a number, buddy."

In my panic, I turned a corner too sharply, almost careening into a wall, before catching sight of a familiar door. The weird Gallifreyan one. Unlike last time as it had been tightly locked for me, it was now partially ajar, glowing faintly from within. Without thinking, I dove inside, yanking it shut behind me.

The quiet was almost deafening. I pressed my ear to the door, listening for Velkatron's claws scraping against the floor, but the hall outside was silent.

Turning, I surveyed the room I had stumbled into.

The lighting was dim, a soft, almost ethereal blue that cast long shadows across the space. It was enormous, far larger than I'd expected. The bed, suspended in midair, dominated the center of the room. It looked impossibly soft, with an absurd amount of pillows piled haphazardly atop it.

Around the edges of the room, wooden dressers painted TARDIS blue stood like silent sentinels. Clothes spilled out of half-open drawers, mingling with scarves, suspenders, and other accessories scattered across the floor. A tuba leaned against one corner, looking oddly regal in the chaos.

The walls were lined with an assortment of pictures. I spotted two familiar faces—Amy and mine, but there were also countless others I didn't recognize, some in black-and-white, others more recent. Each photo felt like a window into another life, another version of him.

Above me, the ceiling stretched into an infinite abyss, shimmering with galaxies and constellations. It was mesmerizing, but then my gaze caught on the absurdly human touch: cheap glow-in-the-dark star stickers stuck to the walls in no discernible pattern. The mix of grandeur and silliness was so him that I couldn't help but snort.

On the far wall, glowing clocks with spinning hands ticked erratically, some backward, others pausing entirely before whirring to life again.

Weird.

I crept further in, the soft glow from the ceiling and clocks giving the room a dreamlike quality. And there he was.

The Doctor lay sprawled on his stomach across the bed, snoring unabashedly. His striped pajamas were utterly ridiculous, complete with an old-fashioned pajama hat that slumped to one side of his head. He looked... peaceful. Almost boyish, really, as if sleep had stripped away the centuries of burdens he usually carried. For once, he wasn't running, thinking, or scheming. He was just... resting.

It was unnerving, seeing him like this. Not in a bad way—just different.

Apparently he had gone to sleep for once. TimeLord's didn't need to sleep nearly as much as most creatures in existence, and the Doctor seemed to sleep even less than that.

However, given that he had just fought off a new race of Daleks and saved the Earth, I suppose it made sense that he was tired enough to rest.

Cautiously, I edged closer to the bed, intending to hide behind it if Velkatron burst through the door. But in typical me fashion, I managed to trip over something solid and unforgiving.

With a loud screech, I went down, landing in an unceremonious heap on the floor.

"Ow," I muttered, rubbing my knee.

There was a rustling sound from the bed, followed by a confused grunt. I looked up just in time to see the Doctor spring into action—or, at least, his version of it.

"What? Who? Where's the—SONIC!" he yelled, flailing around blindly. His hand darted under a pillow and came back clutching... a banana.

Why the fuck did he have a banana under his pillow?

He brandished it like a weapon, pointing it wildly at every shadow in the room. The pajama hat flopped over his eyes, and he yanked it off with a huff, blinking blearily at me. His hair was sticking up in every possible direction, and his expression was a mix of panic and bewilderment.

"PJ?" He asked, his voice still thick with sleep. "What're you doing on the floor? Come to bed, dear..." He said the last part sleepily with a yawn that was unlike him.

I stared at him, completely deadpan. "Oh, you know, just fighting off a homicidal mini-robot and thought I'd take a nap here for fun. What's your excuse? And why do you have a banana under your pillow?"

"I get hungry when I sleep..." He defended himself tiredly, eyes becoming more aware. "Wait, you're in my room... what're you doing in my room?" The last part sounded oddly nervous. "Did you have a nightmare? D'ya want a cuddle?" The Doctor suddenly asked softly, opening his arms as though inviting me to join. "Although I thought it'd take you a lot longer to start coming to me..." He murmured the last part.

For a moment I was taken off guard seeing as I did have a nightmare. I briefly considered saying "screw it" and tackling him in a hug on his comfortable-looking bed. The Doctor, for all his quirks, seemed like an oddly cuddly alien.

This generation of him, at least. I had never met any other generation of him so I did not have anything else to base it off of.

Then reality caught up as I remembered exactly why I stumbled into his room.

"Did you not hear me? Homicidal mini-robot is running around the TARDIS rampant!"

The Doctor stared at me blankly, a few moments passing before his brows slowly furrowed together, and something—recognition—lit up in his gaze. Abruptly, his green eyes were burning bright with intensity, and any previous sleepiness he had been harboring wore off.

"Velkatron! You fixed him?!" The Doctor leaped from the bed in a panic, racing till he was inches in front of me. I attempted to back away, but he grabbed me by the shoulders and leaned his head close. "I told you to throw it in a supernova! Why did you re-build him?!" He was panicking, gripping me tighter before tugging me into a hug.

I think it was more for his own comfort than mine. He rested his head atop mine, nuzzling his face into my hair.

Weirdly cuddly alien man.

Yet, I did not push him away.

"You know about Velkatron?! I didn't know it was berserk! Why was it in my room?"

"You insisted on keeping him after we managed to tear him apart the first time!" He shook his head, pulling away and scowling at me. "You stole it from a questionable market in the slums of Galvanta, spent a few weeks re-making him, and then once you powered him on he nearly killed you, me, and Donna!"

"Well, why did you let it stay in my room?!" I harshly questioned back.

He glowered. "Because it was completely deactivated with torn-apart wiring! Only one of us would be able to fix him! And..." He breathed deeply. "Well, I suppose I know what you meant now. At the time you said you had to keep it in there, I suppose it was for this moment. You knew this would happen and you still bought him and tried to fix him?" He sounded appalled and perplexed.

"Don't blame this-me for future-me's choices!" I pointed at him accusingly.

"Oh! Dearest, don't even start with me, you naughty girl—!" His words which did not hold any real bite, but rather turned oddly flirty as he stepped closer were cut off by the sound of Velkatron roaring as he passed by the outside of the door.

"UNIVERSAL DOMINATION! FUCK THE ORGANICS!"

"Oh my God, it curses?" I asked, my voice sounding highly amused.

Because what the hell kind of robot was this?

The Doctor scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Of course, it does, you're its 'mother', after all!"

"Not its mother, just its builder..." I corrected.

"Same thing..." He swatted at me.

I stared at the Doctor, arms crossed. "Okay, so how did we kill it the first time?"

The Doctor sighed heavily, running a hand through his perpetually disheveled hair. "I prefer the term deactivated, darling. And with a lot of luck," He admitted, his tone exasperated.

"Great," I muttered. "Luck. That's reassuring."

He shot me a look, half-scolding, half-amused. "Don't start. If I recall correctly, you were the one who suggested trying to disable him while jumping on him like some sort of cowgirl."

"Wait, I did what?"

He smirked. "You screamed 'Yeehaw!' too. It was very dramatic. Donna was horrified. Said something about never letting you near a proper horse."

I snorted despite myself. "Well, at least future me sounds entertaining."

"Entertaining," The Doctor echoed dryly, striding toward the door. "Yes, that's one way to describe you."

I followed him out into the corridor, the ambient hum of the TARDIS surrounding us. The ship seemed to pulse faintly, as though aware of the chaos Velkatron was causing within her walls.

"So, what's the plan, Space Lord?" I asked as we walked side by side through the maze of halls.

He didn't miss a beat. "Find Velkatron, stop him from 'taking over the universe', or whatever the equivalent of that is for a little robot with anger issues, and avoid collateral damage to the TARDIS. Simple." He patted the walls of the TARDIS as though promising to protect her.

"Simple, huh?"

"Deary, why were you even awake and tinkering? We're supposed to be sleeping—I was even sleeping for once! We have big things when we wake up, remember!"

I shrugged, allowing my gaze to drop to the floor. "I was bored..." The lie fell from my mouth.

For once, the Doctor did not appear to buy it. He quirked a brow, pursing his lips. "Come to me next time you have a nightmare, yeah? It's what you used to do when I was Ten and what you will do."

Despite all the questions I had about his words, such as why the hell I would do that... there was something else I voiced.

"Ten?" I asked out loud.

He smiled. "Yeah, as in my tenth regeneration, the face before this one? You used to call me Ten... or will call me Ten, I suppose..."

"Ten..." I tested it. "I like it, but that would make you... Eleven... or El for short?"

He scrunched his nose at the nickname. "Eleven is fine, dearest. Ooh, say it again." The Doctor rubbed his hands.

"Eleven?" I stared at him in disturbance as he nearly danced in his spot, a huge smile on his face.

His laugh was warm and satisfied. "Oh yeah, just once more, sweetheart..."

"Eleven?" I could not stop the small chuckle from leaving me after I said that, watching how happy it made him.

"Oh yes—I am Eleven, I like that. Call me that now: not cucumber, not Space Lord, not even the Doctor... I'm just Eleven to you..."

"How about we add it to the list of nicknames?" I suggested while scoffing a laugh.

"That works too!" He grinned back.

The cheeriness slowly faded as we neared the console room. The hum of the TARDIS grew louder, almost like a warning.

"Stay alert," The Doctor told me softly, his expression serious now.

We stepped into the console room cautiously, and there he was. Velkatron stood at the base of the console, his small metal frame glowing with menacing red lights. His arms buzzed with energy, and he appeared to be inspecting the various controls like a child poking at a new toy.

"UNIVERSAL DOMINATION BEGINS NOW!" Velkatron declared, raising one of his clawed arms dramatically.

The Doctor glanced at me and grinned. "Watch and learn, deary."

"Oh, this is going to be good," I muttered, crossing my arms to watch the show.

The Doctor crouched low, moving with exaggerated stealth as he crept toward Velkatron. He reached for his sonic screwdriver, flipping it open with a flourish.

He flashed me a wink.

Just as he lunged forward, Velkatron whirled around. The Doctor managed to leap onto the robot, waving his sonic like a sword.

"Ha! Gotcha!" He crowed, aiming the sonic at Velkatron's main circuit.

Unfortunately, Velkatron was ready for him. With a mechanical roar, the robot flung him off like he was nothing more than an annoying fly.

The Doctor hit the ground with a resounding thud, groaning as he sprawled on the floor.

"Brilliant plan," I called out, biting back a laugh.

"Not helping, PJ!" He wheezed, clutching his ribs. "Always the blasted kidneys!"

Before I could deliver another snarky remark, Velkatron turned his glowing red eyes on me.

"Oh, no," I whispered, stepping back as he launched himself at me. "Oh, hell no!"

"Die, Mother!" Velktron squawked.

I screamed as he collided with me, his small but surprisingly strong metal frame pinning me to the ground. His claws flailed wildly as he screeched something incomprehensible about overthrowing all organics.

"Doctor!" I yelled, wrestling to keep his sharp claws away from my face.

"I'm coming, I'm coming!" The Doctor shouted, scrambling to his feet and running over with his sonic screwdriver in hand.

Velkatron squirmed and shrieked, but I managed to hold him down long enough for the Doctor to aim the sonic. With a high-pitched whirr, the robot froze momentarily, his movements stuttering.

"Pull his wiring out!" The Doctor shouted, dropping to his knees beside me.

Together, we grabbed at Velkatron's exposed wiring, yanking at whatever we could get our hands on. Sparks flew, and the robot let out one last dramatic scream before collapsing into a lifeless heap.

Panting, I sat back on the floor, staring at the smoking remains of the homicidal mini-robot. "I don't know whether to laugh or cry about this, goodbye my son..." I said the last part mockingly.

The Doctor flopped onto the floor beside me, his hair a mess and his face smeared with soot. He looked at me, wide-eyed, before a slow grin spread across his face.

And then we both lost it.

Laughter bubbled up, first in small bursts and then uncontrollable fits. It was the kind of laughter that came from sheer exhaustion, from living lives that were anything but normal.

Two not-quite-human, older-than-dirt lunatics, sitting on the floor of a sentient spaceship, laughing over the remains of a robot they'd just defeated.

"Well," The Doctor said between gasps for air, "that was... something. You said 'Goodbye, my son?'" He lost it again.

I wiped a tear from my eye, grinning. "Welcome to life on the TARDIS, I guess."

"Best kind of lives," He agreed, his smile softening.

And I couldn't help but agree.

We both turned to look at the destroyed robot, and I gave it a quick little pat. He was a fiery one, that's for sure.

"Ugh, he was just like his mother," The Doctor clicked his tongue in disappointment as he leaped to his feet and spun around the TARDIS.

"I am not his fucking mother!" I cried angrily, standing up with Velkatron in my arms. "But perhaps I can re-tinker him and this time I can fix—"

"No!" The Doctor cut me off with a tight smile, flipping one last lever causing the TARDIS to shudder momentarily. "Let us not do that."

He looked funny in his pin-striped pajamas and soft hat—his feet covered with fuzzy slippers. It was very him. Very odd and very Doctorish.

Rather than the side part his hair typically in, the hat caused his hair to flop forward.

His hair was so long it nearly covered his eyes, he kept needing to move it out of the way so he could see. It was quite funny.

The Doctor piloted the TARDIS somewhere in record time, the man running past me and heading for the doors.

He poked his head out the door with a hum.

"Where are we?" I asked, holding Velkatron tightly as I walked up behind him.

He flung the doors open wide in response, motioning to a moon. Not just a moon, a space scrapyard somewhere in Andromeda. I could tell based on the way the constellations in the starry sky looked—not to mention the few workers I could see were native to the Andromeda galaxy.

"Dolora—the hottest burning scrap yard in Andromeda!" He smiled, motioning broadly in a showy manner. "This will be the final resting place of Velkatron!"

I frowned, looking down at him. "I'm telling you though, I think I can totally fix him—"

The Doctor wasted no time in snatching Velkatron out of my arms and racing out of the TARDIS and toward an incinerator.

This is the guy who always takes the peaceful road?

"Hey!" I screamed furiously, running out of the TARDIS after him. "That's my kid!"

I stormed out of the TARDIS, the low gravity of Dolora immediately making my movements awkward. The Doctor was already bounding away, Velkatron clutched in his arms like some sort of metallic trophy. His floppy pajama hat threatened to slip off with every leap.

"Oh? So now you want to claim him?" He called back sarcastically.

"Doctor, you absolute thief!" I yelled, kicking off the ground to pursue him.

He turned mid-bounce, his momentum sending him into an ungraceful spin. "Thief? Thief?! I'm liberating the galaxy from your homicidal handiwork!"

"That's my creation! I'm responsible for him!"

"Oh, you're responsible all right—responsible for nearly getting us killed, again!" He shot back, landing clumsily and stumbling forward.

I tried to pick up speed, but the lack of gravity made it more like a bizarre, slow-motion chase. I felt like a cartoon character, arms flailing as I leaped after him. "If you'd just let me reprogram him—"

"No!"

"You didn't even let me finish!"

"I don't need to let you finish! I've been here before, remember? You reprogrammed him last time, and look where that got us! At this point, it's obvious he's just a natural killer!"

"You're such a drama queen!"

He twisted his head back to stick his tongue out at me, which caused him to miscalculate his next landing. He tripped over a discarded gear the size of a dinner plate and toppled forward, nearly losing his grip on Velkatron.

"Ha!" I crowed triumphantly, springing forward in an attempt to snatch the robot from him.

But he was faster. The Doctor rolled, holding Velkatron high above his head like a prized artifact. "Not today, PJ! Not today!"

"You're impossible!" I groaned, leaping again and grabbing onto his arm.

"And yet, here I am!"

We grappled, both of us struggling in the low gravity as we spun awkwardly in mid-air. For a moment, it looked like I might actually wrestle Velkatron away from him, but then he used the momentum to propel himself toward the incinerator.

"Stop being so stupid!" I shouted, my voice echoing in the vast scrapyard.

"Stop being so stubborn!" He countered, finally landing near the incinerator.

With a flourish, he raised Velkatron high. "Goodbye, tiny terror! May you never curse another organic again!"

"Don't you dare—"

I launched myself toward him, but I was too late. With a dramatic toss, the Doctor hurled Velkatron into the incinerator.

"NOOO!" I screamed, tackling him to the ground just as the machine roared to life, engulfing my little deathbot in flames.

"My kid!" I cried, throwing my head back and holding my fists to the sky.

The Doctor pinned beneath me, reached up and patted my head like one might console a child. "Ma'am, I regret to inform you that your son was the devil incarnate."

I glared down at him and smacked his arm. "He wasn't that bad."

He raised an incredulous eyebrow. "Oh, really? Shall I remind you of the time, five minutes ago, that he tried to kill us! Again?!"

"That's called personality."

He groaned, shaking his head as I pushed myself off him and stood.

Just as we dusted ourselves off, one of the alien workers approached. He was a squat, green-skinned creature with multiple arms, each one busily flipping through some kind of holographic clipboard. He looked us up and down with a distinctly unimpressed expression.

"Excuse me, sir," He said to the Doctor in a nasally voice, "You and your wife need to leave. This is a business, not a playground."

The Doctor froze his face a mix of shock and indignation. "Leave—wait? Wife? Wife?!"

The alien didn't flinch. "Yes, wife. Now, off you go."

"I have never—!" The Doctor began, his voice high with offense.

I smirked, crossing my arms. "Oh, you've never? Sure about that?"

He glared at me before snapping his mouth shut. Without another word, he grabbed my arm and started dragging me back toward the TARDIS. "Come along, dear wife," he muttered through gritted teeth.

I snorted, letting him pull me. "Careful, Doctor. Someone might think we're in a domestic squabble."

"Not another word," He hissed, yanking open the TARDIS doors and pulling me inside.

As soon as we were both aboard, he stomped over to the console, muttering under his breath about presumptuous aliens and ridiculous misunderstandings. With a dramatic flourish, he yanked the lever, sending the TARDIS hurtling back into the time vortex.

I leaned against the railing, watching him with a grin. "You know, for someone who's supposed to be some high and mighty TimeLord, you're awfully sensitive about being called my husband."

He shot me a look, his cheeks faintly red. "Don't push your luck, dearest."

"Noted," I said, chuckling as the TARDIS whirled through space and time.

The TARDIS hummed softly around us as we drifted deeper into the time vortex, its gentle thrum a backdrop to my smug silence. I leaned casually against the console, arms crossed, as the Doctor busied himself with the levers and switches, his jaw set in a stubborn line. His pajama hat flopped to one side, threatening to slide off entirely with every exaggerated movement.

I couldn't resist. "So," I drawled, "how does it feel to be a married man?"

He froze mid-lever pull, turning to me with a withering glare. "I am not married."

"Oh, I don't know," I said, tapping my chin thoughtfully. "You did drag me out of there in quite the husbandly huff. Should I start calling you 'hubby' now? Or do you prefer something fancier? 'Lord Husband,' perhaps?"

"Lord Husband?!" He spluttered, his voice rising an octave as he spun to face me fully. "What am I? A cult leader? That sounds wrong on so many levels. I—no! Absolutely not! You—stop that!"

I grinned, enjoying every second of his indignation. "Aw, c'mon, Lord Husband. It's got a nice ring to it. Very regal. Very Time Lord-y."

"You are insufferable," He muttered, turning back to the console with a dramatic sigh.

"And yet, here I am, your wife," I teased, the word dripping with mock sincerity.

"Do you ever stop?" He paused before adding a sarcastic but somehow still soft. "Wife?"

"Nope."

He groaned, rubbing a hand down his face before muttering something about "stupid, cheeky humans." My eyes narrowed as I was vaguely sure I heard him add something along the lines of "sexy loose-canon".

I sidled up next to him, nudging his arm. "Admit it—you'd be bored out of your mind without me. This has to have been the best forty-or-so hours of your life!"

He huffed, a tiny smile tugging at the corner of his lips despite his best efforts. "Bored, maybe. But at least I'd have peace and quiet."

"Please, like you'd ever have that, like you'd even know what to do with peace and quiet. You'd probably start talking to the TARDIS. Oh, wait, you already do."

"She's better company than you, dearest," He shot back, though his tone lacked any real venom.

"Rude," I said, clutching my chest in mock offense.

We fell into a comfortable silence after that, the kind that only comes with mutual exhaustion and the kind of camaraderie forged in the fires of insanity. The Doctor finally stepped away from the console, collapsing into one of the chairs with a dramatic sigh.

"Busy day," He murmured, tilting his head back and closing his eyes. "And an even busier one to come..."

"You're telling me," I said, plopping into the chair next to him.

For a while, we just sat there, the soft hum of the TARDIS filling the quiet. I leaned back, letting my head rest against the chair, and glanced over at him. His hat had slipped down again, nearly covering his eyes.

"Y'know," I said softly, breaking the silence, "you're different when you're like this."

He peeked one eye open, curious. "Like what?"

"Relaxed," I said. "Not running around, saving the universe, yelling at homicidal robots. Just... being."

He chuckled, the sound low and warm. "Doesn't happen often, does it?"

"Not really," I admitted. "But it suits you."

He tilted his head toward me, his expression softening. "And what about you? Do you ever stop running? Because you've been running since I've known you."

I shrugged, looking down at my hands. "Old habits die hard, I guess."

"Even so," He said, his voice quieter now, "You've done well here. With me. In the chaos. In the TARDIS. You're... quite lovely, PJ. There's a reason I was waiting all those 2 years so eagerly."

I glanced up, caught off guard by the sincerity in his tone. For a moment, I didn't have a snarky comeback, which was saying something.

"Thanks," I said finally, my voice softer than usual. "You're not too bad yourself. For a crazy alien in a big blue box."

He laughed at that, the sound filling the room and chasing away any lingering awkwardness. "Crazy alien, hmm? I'll take it. Better than 'Lord Husband,' at least."

"Barely," I teased, nudging him with my elbow.

"'Husband' will do just fine, thank you..." He said lowly, staring at me with glimmering eyes.

My eyes widened slightly not expecting that to come from him. Was he flirting?

Looking away and desperately trying to ignore the blush finding its way to my face, I changed the subject.

"So tell me a story of the stars, Space Lord..." I asked nearly breathless.

The Doctor continued to stare at me with a smirk, obviously, he was proud that he'd managed to turn the tables and fluster me. However, he took the bait, allowing me to change the subject.

"The stars? Well back when I was 467, I had to make a quick trip to the Dramadeen System..."

We sat there for what felt like hours, talking about everything and nothing all at once. He told me stories about his past adventures, some of them so wild I wasn't sure if they were real or exaggerated. I shared bits and pieces of my own life, skirting around the darker and truthful parts but still letting him in a little more than I usually did.

Eventually, the conversation slowed, our words growing quieter as exhaustion crept in. At some point, my head leaned against his shoulder, and I was too tired to move it. He didn't seem to mind, wrapping an arm around me as his own head tilted to rest lightly against mine.

The last thing I heard before sleep claimed me was the steady hum of the TARDIS, a sound that, for all its strangeness, had started to feel like home.