The Time of Change

As Good As

Barely a minute passes before the noise of the engines stops abruptly. I leap to my feet and sprint down the ramp, but I stop short before I touch the doors. Slowly I turn and face the cylinder of light. I stand still enough that I can sense the floor humming beneath me in a way that almost feels like an encouragement. I wait briefly to see if it will say anything to me or give me advice. When all remains quiet, I take a deep breath and whisper, "Thank you."

That same voice fills the inside of my head, and I realize now that it's feminine. Thank you. You're the only one, other than him, who's ever seen me for what I am: alive.

I suddenly understand that I've learned two things throughout this short ordeal. The first is that the TARDIS is a woman. The second is that you don't steer her; you reason with her.

With that, I smile and pull on the door handles. They swing toward me, allowing dimming light to spill onto the grated floor. From the corner on which the TARDIS stands, I can see Heaven Road stretched out in front of me. Dusk is falling, so the children have all gone inside, blissfully unaware of the horror taking place within a neighboring house.

    I dash to the Ralphs' front door and push it open, stepping into the foyer as quietly as possible. The Doctor has his back to me as he stands over an end table. He seems to be fiddling with something. A feeble whir emits from his hands, and I take a guess that the sonic is acting up again.

Umbrage and hurt flood through me in equally powerful spates. I clear my throat to announce my presence, but he doesn't turn. "Daniel, I thought I told you to stay in your room for the time being," he says irritably, sounding so much like a father that I am momentarily stunned.

    "I am in my room!" Daniel's indignant voice echoes from upstairs.

The Doctor stiffens, and he tilts his head to the right. Extremely slowly, he turns around to look at me. The shock in his expression is undeniable. I walk over to him in two strides and push hard on his chest, causing him to stumble backwards a step.

My courage inexplicably strengthening despite my pounding heart, I angrily say, "How could you do that to me? Who are you to decide whether or not I'm tough enough to handle something, huh? You can't trick me like that! I thought I was helping you!"

He replies in a small voice, "You were helping me by staying sa—"

"How can I help if I'm not here?" I demand shrilly. "If you're in trouble and I'm nowhere around, how does that help? If you had died here, how would that have helped?"

    My tone hits the highest octave it can, hinting I am edging toward hysterics. I glare at him with fierce intensity for a few more seconds. "Forget about protecting me," I tell him in a much softer tone. "You don't have to jump through hoops to make sure I don't fall and skin my knee. I was never brave before I met you, Doctor. Let me be brave."

His eyes ashamedly search the floor beneath our feet, and I crouch to look at him from below.

    "Now look at me with those big sad eyes so I know you're listening," I whisper. Reluctantly, his gaze locks with mine. "Promise that is the last time you'll send me away like that."

    He sighs, his mouth forming a perfect little O. "Miss Song," he says quietly, avoiding my first name, "I promise I will never, ever let you out of my sight again."

I pull him to me, wrapping my arms around his neck, and I feel him breathe contentedly into my shoulder. The contact between us sends electrical sparks up and down my body. "You've always been the bravest person I know," I hear him say in my ear. "Sometimes that bravery scares me so much that I have to protect you from it." I press a bit closer to him, and for a minute, everything is wonderful again.