The TARDIS. The best ship in the universe. My home, my family, and the start of every adventure with the Doctor, last of the Time Lords, and my best friend. He was once known across the universe, for things good and bad (but mostly good), but now nobody knows who he is. He tells me I shouldn't exist, as I'm half human, but also have Time Lord DNA with elements that come from the TARDIS. I'm here all the same, and I'm glad I am. The Doctor and I have been together for over 300 years. In that time we've seen so much. We've watched as people sang in joy at finally having freedom, and watched as people we barely knew gave up their life to protecting their loved ones, and saving their home planet. Whether I know them or not never affects how much the loss hurts. They shouldn't have had to sacrifice anything at all. We should have found another way. I should have found another way. After all, the Doctor is only one person, and isn't always right, however amazing he is. I should say something more often. It might save someone, but I don't. I never speak out. I'm always in the Doctor's shadow. I'm a person whose very existence is impossible, and yet I exist anyway. Surely, if I can break the rules of the universe, then I can speak out now and then.

The truth is, sometimes, the Doctor is just too scary. He can get too emotional, and that's when he makes his mistakes. When he's truly angry, anything can happen…I've seen people thrown out of the only safe refuge, or falling under the sheer force of the TARDIS herself. When he's determined to do something or save someone, nothing will stop him, and if anything does, that's when he gets truly angry. I'm scared of him when he's like that. The possibility he could turn on me always seems very real. In that moment, our Doctor's gone, and someone, something replaces him. Eventually, our Doctor comes back, sometimes regretting what he's done, sometimes not. I try to help him as much as I can; eventually the Doctor seems back to his normal self and we continue our journey through time and space. Though the good times, and the bad, we were always a team. We cared for each other during the dark times, shared the good days and the light of many different suns. I guess I'd always thought that it would never change, that we'd always be together. I was wrong. We couldn't be together, not all the time. Some days we'd even be on opposite sides, and it would be more than just an argument, but even then our Doctor would find his way back. Except once. I almost lost him that day.

I awoke to the comforting sound of the TARDIS' engines, wished her a good morning and got out of bed with a smile. I wandered into the console room, ready for another day. For a few moments it was just me and the TARDIS. I smiled as I noticed the tiny details of the place I called home, the little things that I'd usually ignore, but when I had a moment to myself I'd notice; the little signs that she was more than just a ship. The new lights high on the walls smiled down, the mundane metal flooring beneath my feet – everything around me felt like a part of me, a part of my life and a part of my home. Every centimetre seemed to hum with the TARDIS's secrets and the adventures the Doctor and his friends had been on and were yet to have, with the amazing places as yet unseen, future journeys the Doctor, the TARDIS and I had yet to share, and with the oncoming storm that was all too clear.

Clara had told me that stepping into the TARDIS sometimes felt like an intrusion, explaining that some days walking through those doors felt like stepping into an old church, especially when she hadn't been ready as soon as she landed and the Doctor was wasting time by "having a moment with his snog box". I'd used to think that the Doctor was a mad scientist, and he used the TARDIS as his laboratory. I knew better, of course, but I did have an overactive imagination, something which I've kept, even in my second incarnation. I'd imagine the console was his main computer, and he'd receive data from all of his bubbling experiments he was running. The main console lends itself to imagining uses of the various leavers and buttons, even if you do know what they all do. They could control anything and fiddling with them could do any number of things. As much as I loved being with the Doctor, I liked the moments I could share the console room with just Mum, these pauses where we were just another mother and daughter, and the fact that one of us was a magnificent time-ship and the other was half human didn't matter. I always felt closer to her here. When I am alone, it almost feels like she is standing beside me, holding me close to her. Here we could be together and talk about adventures and friends past, and our hopes for the future. She couldn't answer, not in a way most people would recognise, but I can hear the tiny changes in the ambient hum, the slight dimming and brightening of the lights in response, and one day I hope to understand these signs for sure, but for now I can only guess. I can only run my hand along the console affectionately, and hope she can feel that I love her more than anyone or anything in the whole of space and time, and the only other person I care about anywhere near as much is the Doctor and at one point, the Ponds.

Amelia and Rory. They shared our adventures; they became part of our lives. They were the first people I had shared adventures with other than the Doctor, and Amelia was the first new person the Doctor saw in his eleventh incarnation. They welcomed us into their family, they were always there…strong, trustworthy, and always ready to listen. They were touched by an angel, and now they live in the past, with us unable to reach them. Losing them made me wonder if I would ever lose this life I love so much. Would Mum and the Doctor be forced to leave me behind somewhere, or would the Doctor's silence fall, and the universe shiver? I promised myself that it would never happen, but if promises really had an impact on the universe, the Ponds would still be here. If that ever did happen, I'd want those close to me to know they are loved.

Mum can only hope I know I am loved, which I do, and I tell her this, but somehow I still doubt whether she can understand. At moments like these we can look back on paths taken, we can take time to enjoy the memories of the times we've shared. Normal life on Earth always seemed dull compared to the life I live, and after trying it for a year, I'm glad I am where I am. The lights brightened momentarily. I guessed her telepathic circuits had noticed I was in a reflective mood, and she was watching over me. I jumped slightly as I heard the clang of metal and the Doctor call out. I grinned. The Doctor was definitely a mad man in a box, and no one could fail to see it when he tripped over the chair standing in the console room of his own ship. He quickly regained his balance before could fall and huffed.

'I knew that chair should have gone somewhere else.' He moaned.

I turned around to see the Doctor almost bouncing towards me, his grin lighting up the room, already wide awake and seemly already forgotten his near-miss. He always seemed so full of energy, but I knew that deep down, he could tire and ache just like any other being in the universe. I'd seen it happen to him. Today, however, no trace of it could be seen. To someone who didn't know him, he could be the happiest man in the universe.

'Good Morning.' He said as he turned around to face me.

'Good morning, Doctor.' I replied with a grin.

The Doctor turned back to the console, and released the time/space handbrake, sending us into the time vortex, heading towards a new destination.

'Where we off to?' I asked. He smiled at me, and turned the small scanner screen towards me 'No...way.' I could have danced around the console room with excitement. Galalis Prime. Beautiful landscapes, trickling streams and large forests made it one of my favourite places to be. My happiness was short-lived. The cloister bell rang out through our ship. I fear that sound more than any other sound in the universe. It means imminent danger, it means there's something big and terrible in the near future, and all other plans need to be shelved until this problem is fixed. The Doctor checked the TARDIS's systems over while I made sure she was ready to dematerialise out of the time vortex quickly if needed.

'What is it?' I asked.

'A distress signal. It's strange.'

'How?'

'This frequency…It's a direct connection to the TARDIS. Who could know the exact frequency? It's over a thousand numbers long!' he danced around the central console, his arms flailing madly when they weren't manipulating the controls of his magnificent ship.

I was starting to think there was a fault somewhere; no one could know that frequency, certainly not down to every number. Not even I could. I couldn't think it over for long, I had other problems. The Doctor started to fade from me.