Categories > TV > Doctor Who
AN/ This fic is a part of my TARDIS 100 series, and is in the TARDIS' POV - as if she's talking to Captain Jack Harkness and telling him about everything that's changed with her and the Doctor since he left them. Contains spoilers for the end of season 2 and the start of season 3. May be slightly AU.
The BBC owns everything Doctor Who - I just play with them. Thanks to my wonderful beta and muse, LilCosette.
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I won't lie to you, Jack.
Everything has changed. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, but everything had to change. You thought that if you found us again - when you found us again we'd be the same, changed only in knowledge and experience.
You probably think the Doctor will still be tall and angular, with short dark hair, intense blue eyes, a battered leather jacket and a northern accent. I wish I could tell you that your definition, the face you put to his name is the same, but I can't lie to you.
I'm sorry to tell you that he's changed, but not necessarily for the worse. Knowing you, you would quite possibly find him attractive, cute. Now he's slimmer, younger-looking, with longer brunette hair and hazel eyes. So far as the wardrobe goes, he's more partial to suits and sneakers now. His voice has also changed. Now he sounds more like a Londoner... though he's more than happy to slip into a Scottish accent for you. It's like the bookends of the Northern voice he had before.
However, he hasn't lost his intensity and passion for life and what he does, how he lives his life to the fullest, like you did. He's still saving lives and plants, touching people's souls. I would be lying, however, if I said that he's a hundred percent happy though. He'll always be a lonely, ever travelling soul like myself. Another thing that hasn't changed is the death. It's still a constant companion.
His face and clothes have changed. His body and voice are different. Even his mind has been modified a fraction, but please be assured, it's still him. It's still the Doctor.
Trust me on this. I know him better than anybody, and I never lie.
Rose Tyler has changed too. She's gone, yes, but certainly not forgotten. Before you jump to conclusions based on the obituaries - the lists of the dead after what happened with the Cyberman and the Daleks in Torchwood. Those are lies because she is not dead. She's only dead on this world, this Earth. In another world, she's alive and well, in body anyway. Her mind and heart are always with the Doctor and myself. We miss her deeply, as I know you must do too. You were like the big brother she never had. The four of us were such a good team, once upon a time. It's a shame it didn't last longer.
But she's gone now. It's all different.
There's a new companion now; Martha Jones. I don't know if you'd like her or not. Oh, who am I kidding? Of course you'd like her. She has spunk. If and when you get to meet her, I hope you approve of the Doctor's decision to take her along. True, she's not Rose, and I would be lying if I said she's a perfect replacement. No one will ever be able to really replace her in our hearts, but Martha does fill in at least part of the gap made when Rose left. I'm sure when her time comes to leave, we'll miss her too.
Then there's me. I'm still the same, still familiar, still safe. (Well, mostly safe anyway.) The ever-constant blue police box. I still mess up the landings, as you would put it. (Of course, in my opinion, ninety-nine point nine percent of the landings I do are perfect.) I still change the rooms around and pull other such pranks as only I can. I've kept your room how you've left it. It's hidden at the back now, out of the way, but it's ready for you if and when you return. I still play Glenn Miller songs every now and then, and when I do, the Doctor's mind goes back to that night we picked you up and you became a companion.
I miss you, Jack, and don't lie to me because I know you miss me too. Yes, they have changed. No, they will never be the same again, nothing ever will be. But I hope that if you come back, when you come back, you'll find that at least I've been constant, a rock for you to lean on.
The BBC owns everything Doctor Who - I just play with them. Thanks to my wonderful beta and muse, LilCosette.
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I won't lie to you, Jack.
Everything has changed. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry, but everything had to change. You thought that if you found us again - when you found us again we'd be the same, changed only in knowledge and experience.
You probably think the Doctor will still be tall and angular, with short dark hair, intense blue eyes, a battered leather jacket and a northern accent. I wish I could tell you that your definition, the face you put to his name is the same, but I can't lie to you.
I'm sorry to tell you that he's changed, but not necessarily for the worse. Knowing you, you would quite possibly find him attractive, cute. Now he's slimmer, younger-looking, with longer brunette hair and hazel eyes. So far as the wardrobe goes, he's more partial to suits and sneakers now. His voice has also changed. Now he sounds more like a Londoner... though he's more than happy to slip into a Scottish accent for you. It's like the bookends of the Northern voice he had before.
However, he hasn't lost his intensity and passion for life and what he does, how he lives his life to the fullest, like you did. He's still saving lives and plants, touching people's souls. I would be lying, however, if I said that he's a hundred percent happy though. He'll always be a lonely, ever travelling soul like myself. Another thing that hasn't changed is the death. It's still a constant companion.
His face and clothes have changed. His body and voice are different. Even his mind has been modified a fraction, but please be assured, it's still him. It's still the Doctor.
Trust me on this. I know him better than anybody, and I never lie.
Rose Tyler has changed too. She's gone, yes, but certainly not forgotten. Before you jump to conclusions based on the obituaries - the lists of the dead after what happened with the Cyberman and the Daleks in Torchwood. Those are lies because she is not dead. She's only dead on this world, this Earth. In another world, she's alive and well, in body anyway. Her mind and heart are always with the Doctor and myself. We miss her deeply, as I know you must do too. You were like the big brother she never had. The four of us were such a good team, once upon a time. It's a shame it didn't last longer.
But she's gone now. It's all different.
There's a new companion now; Martha Jones. I don't know if you'd like her or not. Oh, who am I kidding? Of course you'd like her. She has spunk. If and when you get to meet her, I hope you approve of the Doctor's decision to take her along. True, she's not Rose, and I would be lying if I said she's a perfect replacement. No one will ever be able to really replace her in our hearts, but Martha does fill in at least part of the gap made when Rose left. I'm sure when her time comes to leave, we'll miss her too.
Then there's me. I'm still the same, still familiar, still safe. (Well, mostly safe anyway.) The ever-constant blue police box. I still mess up the landings, as you would put it. (Of course, in my opinion, ninety-nine point nine percent of the landings I do are perfect.) I still change the rooms around and pull other such pranks as only I can. I've kept your room how you've left it. It's hidden at the back now, out of the way, but it's ready for you if and when you return. I still play Glenn Miller songs every now and then, and when I do, the Doctor's mind goes back to that night we picked you up and you became a companion.
I miss you, Jack, and don't lie to me because I know you miss me too. Yes, they have changed. No, they will never be the same again, nothing ever will be. But I hope that if you come back, when you come back, you'll find that at least I've been constant, a rock for you to lean on.
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