Nightmares
Breaking Down Inside
The Doctor turned onto his back again, staring up at the dark ceiling of his room. His mind was exhausted but refused to shut down, choosing instead to replay the final moments of his planet.
Deciding that his quest for sleep was yet again a lost cause, the Doctor got out of bed with a sigh and, pulling on his jacket, headed towards the library, supressing a yawn. While it was true that he didn't need much sleep, the gap between his last good rest was a long one even for him, and he hoped that, given enough time, his nightmares would start to abate.
The Doctor snorted at the thought. Well, it's not like I don't have an unlimited supply of that.
Stepping inside the libary, he looked around. The mere sight of hundreds of books was usually enough to calm him, but the Doctor was more agitated and restless than normal. Sinking into a nearby armchair, he made several attempts at reading, but dropped every book back down after only a couple of glances. The dark thoughts still plauged him, the nightmares not letting him escape even in his waking hours.
Sighing again, he sunk lower in his chair. "You've got to stop doing this," he said quietly, "it's over."
"I know," he said, answering himself, "I know. It's gone, all of it."
"But you did it, you saved the day. Saved the universe."
"Yeah, but at what cost? Was it worth it?"
He groaned, letting his head fall into his hands, his fingers feeling the new, shorter hair. "Why am I always talking to myself?"
"Maybe I need someone."
He stayed like that for several moments, trying not to fall apart, before shaking his head and leaving the library. In the back of his mind, all the half-remembered nightmares bagan to gather, but the Doctor did his best to ignore them.
The Doctor walked round the TARDIS coridors aimless for a while, before turning back to his room. He was tired to the core and felt every one of his nine hundred years, and hoped that soon, he would be able to sleep.
Deciding that his quest for sleep was yet again a lost cause, the Doctor got out of bed with a sigh and, pulling on his jacket, headed towards the library, supressing a yawn. While it was true that he didn't need much sleep, the gap between his last good rest was a long one even for him, and he hoped that, given enough time, his nightmares would start to abate.
The Doctor snorted at the thought. Well, it's not like I don't have an unlimited supply of that.
Stepping inside the libary, he looked around. The mere sight of hundreds of books was usually enough to calm him, but the Doctor was more agitated and restless than normal. Sinking into a nearby armchair, he made several attempts at reading, but dropped every book back down after only a couple of glances. The dark thoughts still plauged him, the nightmares not letting him escape even in his waking hours.
Sighing again, he sunk lower in his chair. "You've got to stop doing this," he said quietly, "it's over."
"I know," he said, answering himself, "I know. It's gone, all of it."
"But you did it, you saved the day. Saved the universe."
"Yeah, but at what cost? Was it worth it?"
He groaned, letting his head fall into his hands, his fingers feeling the new, shorter hair. "Why am I always talking to myself?"
"Maybe I need someone."
He stayed like that for several moments, trying not to fall apart, before shaking his head and leaving the library. In the back of his mind, all the half-remembered nightmares bagan to gather, but the Doctor did his best to ignore them.
The Doctor walked round the TARDIS coridors aimless for a while, before turning back to his room. He was tired to the core and felt every one of his nine hundred years, and hoped that soon, he would be able to sleep.