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But the TARDIS left the place where it had once been, just as Tegan knew it must, and moved to where it always had to be at that precise moment, which was nowhere that anyone could ever reach through natural means.
The dream flowed on.
'You must always tell people what’s on your mind, Tegan. Words fall so far short of your ‘inner reality’ at the best of times, but even an attempt at words is better than nothing. How can you put any feelings into words? I certainly wouldn’t even like to try, but I might have to…?’
‘Then why can’t you talk to me?’
The Doctor sighed. ‘Perhaps this is different. As a Time Lord, I am privileged to certain secrets and facts that I can’t share. That is my dilemma…’
He turned to Tegan and shook his head, something approaching embarrassment flickering through his features. ‘I’m sorry...You’ll have to excuse me. I’m just rambling away, thinking out loud...It’s just that sometimes you see something - in a dream, or in reality - that you want to express, but you can’t…’
‘Well, that’s life,’ said Tegan, concerned but unable to follow quite what the Doctor was getting at.
‘yes, you’re right - as you always are in that matter-of-fact way of yours...It’s often the most obvious things you can’t express. What I’ve seen, Tegan, you already know.’ There was a long silence, it’s emptiness negating even the hum of the console room.
He turned, folded the coat over his arm. ‘Hungry? I don’t think I’ve eaten for a day or two, and I feel quite peckish. Perhaps I’m even starving enough to appreciate mu own cuisine.’
‘I’ll join you,’ said Tegan, smiling. ‘But please, no more amateur philosophy.’
‘Agreed. Conversation will remain distinctly...trivial!’
‘Define ‘trivial’ then…’
They walked through the TARDIS corridors, the warmth rekindled between them - Tegan, pleased that the Doctor seemed more like his old self; the Doctor, acknowledging that he could not tell Tegan that, in some strange way, he had dreamt of her leaving, or that he had just seen her grave, dulled by age in a neglected corner of a small graveyard.
written by
MARTIN DAY
copyright 2009
artwork by
COLIN JOHN
copyright 2009
  
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for want of a better word page2
