ficclet: Sometimes

Sometimes the Doctor sleeps. His typical schedule is roughly every two to three days between the hours, he presumed, were three and six in the afternoon. It was difficult to tell, given he actually could fall asleep anywhere and any when if need be. He once joked, speaking like a Dr. Seuss book, "I can sleep in a box with a fox! In a chair with definitely no pears! On the couch with a slouch! In a bed, where it's nice to rest my head!" And he would laugh as he bounced around the center console of the TARDIS like a madman flipping switches and turning dials to his next destination.

Sometimes when the Doctor sleeps he dreams. He'll dream of old memories of Gallifrey, burnt orange skies and fields of red tall grasses. He can hear childhood laughter and whispers and realize it's him and the Master, when they were young. He can feel the soft blades between his fingers and cool dirt under his toes. His hearts race as they run and hide. But sometimes when the Master hid, he waited, searched, and couldn't find him. He'd wait more, crying out his name, but he wouldn't come. Sometimes he never came back.

Sometimes the Doctor dreamed of the stars deep within the sky. The planets of Doorn, the Medusa Cascade, his favorite constellation: Epsilon Ursae Minoris, which was the little mobile hung around his head as an infant only to be replaced with something not as fascinating when over excited chubby fingers pulled them down. He'd dream of sitting on the TARDIS doorstep, watching the burning balls of gas, permanent fixtures when his eyes closed.

Sometimes the Doctor dreamed of telling stories, sitting down with Adric and sharing a silly story of yore, that ended with some lesson that was meant to be learned from. Or Susan, those big brown eyes so full of curiosity and wonder as she held on to every word uttered from his mouth, bringing sadness and regret that he was a better father figure to her than his own children. Sometimes he wonders if they ever forgave him.

Sometimes the Doctor cried in his sleep, the tears burned as they welled up and streaked down his face, and it wasn't always sadness that caused it but tears of joy and laughter that he felt so overwhelmed with excitement. However, his worst fears came and memories of helplessness, loss, and doubt that he'll touch his cheek and not even realize it. He'll dream of Rose, hearing the roaring of the tides on the beach, disappointing her time and time again until she's gone and he's the only one left on the beach filled with anguish. He'll dream of Adric, taking his place and being the one sacrificed for the good of the others. He'll dream of the head council of Gallifrey, begging for forgiveness, for the loss of everything they once knew, for the ancient race that persevered through all of time only to be gone after one bloody war.

Doctor...

The tears streaked down his face.

Doctor, wake up...

The voice was gentle and he could feel soothing fingers in his hair. Dark eyes blinked open, and he knew he looked confused for a moment, but recognized Donna immediately. "You were crying in your sleep."

He reaches his hand and touched his face, feeling the dampness. "Sometimes I do that. I'm sorry, it's a bit silly, isn't it?" And nothing else was said as he replaced his head back on her lap and a hand to her knee as he stared across the great room of the library.

Always, he hated to sleep, like a stubborn toddler wanting to play outside just a little longer, just until the sun went down.