all of time and space, everywhere and anywhere. every star that ever was. where do you want to start?
the tardis (4/?)
“Doing what, sir? Ain’t doing nothing.”
"I didn’t annoy him on purpose," Dodger muttered half-heartedly, shuffling on his feet a bit before scowling up at the man. "What’chu care anyway, nutter?"
"Because I’d rather not see you with cracked ribs, or a concussion." The Doctor snapped. "Just, keep your annoyance of him to accidental only. Please?"
Steadying himself on the bin, Dodger swallowed thickly, overcoming the urge for his innards to rebel. “Think I’m done eating,” he murmured, eyes flicking once to the pasty before shuddering away.
"It was a good pasty," he insisted weakly, eyelids drooping slightly as he spoke, yawn cracking his jaw and stopping whatever else he was going to say.
Then the nutter’s words caught up with his quickly tiring mind. “It gets better—you talk like a body who knows. Nutter…did you—have you killed somebody?”
There is the tiniest moment of silence. The smallest hesitation of one pat to the next. Just a blink. Still long enough for him to think he really should choose his words more carefully.
"It’s alright Dodger, you don’t have to finish it." The Doctor assured him, smiling one of the smallest smiles he ever had. "Come on, let’s get you to a bed, hm?" He wanted to pick the boy up, but he was just too big for that. At least not without Dodger asking himself. The Doctor merely helped him up from the chair, wondering what room to give him. "Somewhere comfy. I bet you’ll love it."
"I’m sorry-" Coughs "Did you say a bomb?” More coughing, and a rather worried look. “Why are you making a bomb?”
"Some genocidal moron took control over a galaxy destroying stone just kill billions of people."
"Oh. That sounds like the usual, actually. But good work anyway." The Doctor grinned. A raccoon that saved the galaxy. Maybe he just might see everything after all.