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find_rightbrainTitle: When the Stranger Comes Along
Characters/Pairing: The Doctor/Martha/Des, Donna, mention of Charlie, Rose, Cassandra and John Smith
Word Count: 1204
Rating: PG
Summary: He is the darkness that swallows stars, he's the Oncoming Storm, the Destroyer of Worlds, he is ancient and forever and he is DEATH...
Notes: Written for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
itsproductivity and meritinabox #11. There was supposed to be another section before the last one, but... the Doctor refused to cooperate with me. I want to kill him, a little.
Disclaimer: The Doctor belongs to the BBC, as do Martha and Donna. Des belongs to![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kawaiispinel. The Rift will eat your soul. When it's done with your brain.
he has a storm in his wake, and he has one constant companion
There's a storm raging in the lobby of the Kashtta Tower, and no one sees or hears. Shadow tumbles over itself, frothing like stop motion storm clouds. There's no rain, no lightning, just the darkness, and it's roaring in perfect silence.
The Doctor paces in the lobby, oblivious. Nothing to see, nothing to hear but the sound of his own feet. He's counted the number of steps it takes to get from one end of the lobby to the other - problem is, it keeps changing, probably because he can't keep the length of his steps even and he's not particularly invested in trying. There are two sad potted palm trees, a reception desk, and precious little else, and everything is silent and dark except for the occasional car engine outside, a brief flash of headlights through the glass front doors.
Another car passes by just as the Doctor executes a sharp turn and paces back the other direction, light briefly illuminating his face, the slate-gray suit. The light doesn't touch the shadow clouds above him, twining around him. They're still black as starless skies, and every time the Doctor turns, he thinks he might see them, just a little, from the corner of his eye.
But then, there's something in this tower, he's sure of it. Something that doesn't belong, not in this building, possibly in this universe. Something that took Rose Tyler, and if he's going to get her back, he's going to have to find it. Find it and
destroy it, wipe it from this universe and every other, it took her from us and WE WILL HAVE HER BACK
The voice of thunder growls at the edges of his conscious mind, and the Doctor lifts his head to scan the lobby. There's nothing to see, though if he turns his head just right, there are shapes at the corners of his vision.
Whatever's in the Tower, it's strange and possibly dangerous. The storm, unleashed, could roll over it like a hurricane and leave nothing behind.
you and me, all the things we've done
At least it's not Chicago. That's what he keeps telling Donna and Charlie - this would all be so much worse if this happened in Chicago. Or Italy. He's heard there's a rift there. Here, though, not that far from Geneva, though... not so bad. Micro black hole, ripping through the already fragile barriers of this universe, tearing open a rift of an entirely different and much simpler sort than the old familiar one at home - nothing he can't handle.
And none of that explains why the Doctor's frozen at the controls, staring at them like he's never seen them before. He knows what to do, knows exactly which switches to flip and buttons to push, but that's not...
"Doctor?" Donna asks, the slightest edge of concern in her voice, and he barely hears her.
It's just the three of them, standing here, the Doctor and Donna and Charlie. Except there's another, a shadowed man in a suit and tie leaning over the Doctor's shoulder, whispering in his ear. His smile's so convincing, and just the sound of his voice is good, it's right, and if they'd only listen...
You could use this. You're that clever. You could harness it, control it. You could fix the TARDIS. Reverse the Rift. Save all your friends and all the others. All the power you need and more, and you can't let that go, can you? Can you really, Doctor?
His hand moves to hover over a button. Not the button that would close this Rift, get rid of the black hole or anything. If he's wrong, it could tear this universe apart. If he's not...
"Doctor!" The Doctor blinks and shakes his head, jerking his hands back as he turns to look at Donna. "I'll do this on my own if I have to, but personally, rather not."
The Doctor smiles at her and flips a switch smoothly. "Nah. Watch and learn, Donna!"
The shadow-Master snarls and steps back reluctantly, expression all scorn and disappointment.
does it need saying?
The Doctor slips into the house sometimes, in the middle of the night, usually without alarming Des to the point that the Doctor gets threatened with lamps. It's usually late or early enough that Cassandra and John are fast asleep, and he can hush the whistler with a few agitated whispers and calming gestures before wandering up the stairs to Des and Martha's room.
He never just climbs into bed. He'll poke around the room, looking for his sonic screwdriver, or the external controls to the TARDIS, or... no, that's Martha's mobile, which looks just like the external controls to the TARDIS, minus some wiring and what may or may not be chewing gum. He sets it down on the dresser, a little too loudly, tries not to trip over anything moving across the room in the dark...
"Either get in bed or do your weird Time Lord whatever it is somewhere else," Des mumbles from the bed, not even bothering to move to look at him. "Some of us do need sleep."
"I'll just be a minute. I need to find..." The Doctor trails off as he leans down to look under the bed, except there's no reason anything he needs would be under there, because he's in this room little enough as it is.
"I don't care. Bed or leave."
The Doctor stands and frowns at Des for a moment, and Martha curled in a tight ball next to him. Funny how Martha tends to wake at the slightest noise, but any noise the Doctor or Des makes when she's sleeping goes more or less unnoticed. Maybe she's just become so used to their presence it doesn't even register.
"Honestly, I'm not staying, I just needed to-"
Des reaches out without preamble, grabs the Doctor by the wrist, and drags him down onto the bed. "Go to sleep," he growls. "Or lay down and pretend to sleep. It'll make Martha happy."
"Martha's asleep," the Doctor protests, though he lies down anyway, kicking off his trainers absently.
"So be here when she wakes up." Des rolls over and buries his face in his pillow, apparently having accomplished his purpose and now ready to go back to sleep. The Doctor hesitates a moment, and then shifts a little closer, flat on his back with his shoulder pressed to Des' back. Lying next to a human is like being pressed up against a furnace, and it seems he ought to be able to at least pretend he minds. But there's Des' warmth and the sound of Martha's breathing on the other side of him and he supposes there's no reason he can't stay at least until morning.
There's a shadow in the corner, just like the Doctor, but in shades of gray and blurry edges, watching the three on the bed and murmuring softly, over and over, I love you. I love you. I love you...
Characters/Pairing: The Doctor/Martha/Des, Donna, mention of Charlie, Rose, Cassandra and John Smith
Word Count: 1204
Rating: PG
Summary: He is the darkness that swallows stars, he's the Oncoming Storm, the Destroyer of Worlds, he is ancient and forever and he is DEATH...
Notes: Written for
itsproductivity and meritinabox #11. There was supposed to be another section before the last one, but... the Doctor refused to cooperate with me. I want to kill him, a little.Disclaimer: The Doctor belongs to the BBC, as do Martha and Donna. Des belongs to
kawaiispinel. The Rift will eat your soul. When it's done with your brain.he has a storm in his wake, and he has one constant companion
There's a storm raging in the lobby of the Kashtta Tower, and no one sees or hears. Shadow tumbles over itself, frothing like stop motion storm clouds. There's no rain, no lightning, just the darkness, and it's roaring in perfect silence.
The Doctor paces in the lobby, oblivious. Nothing to see, nothing to hear but the sound of his own feet. He's counted the number of steps it takes to get from one end of the lobby to the other - problem is, it keeps changing, probably because he can't keep the length of his steps even and he's not particularly invested in trying. There are two sad potted palm trees, a reception desk, and precious little else, and everything is silent and dark except for the occasional car engine outside, a brief flash of headlights through the glass front doors.
Another car passes by just as the Doctor executes a sharp turn and paces back the other direction, light briefly illuminating his face, the slate-gray suit. The light doesn't touch the shadow clouds above him, twining around him. They're still black as starless skies, and every time the Doctor turns, he thinks he might see them, just a little, from the corner of his eye.
But then, there's something in this tower, he's sure of it. Something that doesn't belong, not in this building, possibly in this universe. Something that took Rose Tyler, and if he's going to get her back, he's going to have to find it. Find it and
destroy it, wipe it from this universe and every other, it took her from us and WE WILL HAVE HER BACK
The voice of thunder growls at the edges of his conscious mind, and the Doctor lifts his head to scan the lobby. There's nothing to see, though if he turns his head just right, there are shapes at the corners of his vision.
Whatever's in the Tower, it's strange and possibly dangerous. The storm, unleashed, could roll over it like a hurricane and leave nothing behind.
you and me, all the things we've done
At least it's not Chicago. That's what he keeps telling Donna and Charlie - this would all be so much worse if this happened in Chicago. Or Italy. He's heard there's a rift there. Here, though, not that far from Geneva, though... not so bad. Micro black hole, ripping through the already fragile barriers of this universe, tearing open a rift of an entirely different and much simpler sort than the old familiar one at home - nothing he can't handle.
And none of that explains why the Doctor's frozen at the controls, staring at them like he's never seen them before. He knows what to do, knows exactly which switches to flip and buttons to push, but that's not...
"Doctor?" Donna asks, the slightest edge of concern in her voice, and he barely hears her.
It's just the three of them, standing here, the Doctor and Donna and Charlie. Except there's another, a shadowed man in a suit and tie leaning over the Doctor's shoulder, whispering in his ear. His smile's so convincing, and just the sound of his voice is good, it's right, and if they'd only listen...
You could use this. You're that clever. You could harness it, control it. You could fix the TARDIS. Reverse the Rift. Save all your friends and all the others. All the power you need and more, and you can't let that go, can you? Can you really, Doctor?
His hand moves to hover over a button. Not the button that would close this Rift, get rid of the black hole or anything. If he's wrong, it could tear this universe apart. If he's not...
"Doctor!" The Doctor blinks and shakes his head, jerking his hands back as he turns to look at Donna. "I'll do this on my own if I have to, but personally, rather not."
The Doctor smiles at her and flips a switch smoothly. "Nah. Watch and learn, Donna!"
The shadow-Master snarls and steps back reluctantly, expression all scorn and disappointment.
does it need saying?
The Doctor slips into the house sometimes, in the middle of the night, usually without alarming Des to the point that the Doctor gets threatened with lamps. It's usually late or early enough that Cassandra and John are fast asleep, and he can hush the whistler with a few agitated whispers and calming gestures before wandering up the stairs to Des and Martha's room.
He never just climbs into bed. He'll poke around the room, looking for his sonic screwdriver, or the external controls to the TARDIS, or... no, that's Martha's mobile, which looks just like the external controls to the TARDIS, minus some wiring and what may or may not be chewing gum. He sets it down on the dresser, a little too loudly, tries not to trip over anything moving across the room in the dark...
"Either get in bed or do your weird Time Lord whatever it is somewhere else," Des mumbles from the bed, not even bothering to move to look at him. "Some of us do need sleep."
"I'll just be a minute. I need to find..." The Doctor trails off as he leans down to look under the bed, except there's no reason anything he needs would be under there, because he's in this room little enough as it is.
"I don't care. Bed or leave."
The Doctor stands and frowns at Des for a moment, and Martha curled in a tight ball next to him. Funny how Martha tends to wake at the slightest noise, but any noise the Doctor or Des makes when she's sleeping goes more or less unnoticed. Maybe she's just become so used to their presence it doesn't even register.
"Honestly, I'm not staying, I just needed to-"
Des reaches out without preamble, grabs the Doctor by the wrist, and drags him down onto the bed. "Go to sleep," he growls. "Or lay down and pretend to sleep. It'll make Martha happy."
"Martha's asleep," the Doctor protests, though he lies down anyway, kicking off his trainers absently.
"So be here when she wakes up." Des rolls over and buries his face in his pillow, apparently having accomplished his purpose and now ready to go back to sleep. The Doctor hesitates a moment, and then shifts a little closer, flat on his back with his shoulder pressed to Des' back. Lying next to a human is like being pressed up against a furnace, and it seems he ought to be able to at least pretend he minds. But there's Des' warmth and the sound of Martha's breathing on the other side of him and he supposes there's no reason he can't stay at least until morning.
There's a shadow in the corner, just like the Doctor, but in shades of gray and blurry edges, watching the three on the bed and murmuring softly, over and over, I love you. I love you. I love you...
(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-13 06:28 am (UTC)(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-16 03:47 am (UTC)Absolutely amazing and painful and beautiful. Just in so many ways that I can't begin to describe, the transitions, and the BOYS! And God, the Doctor and his shadows... really just... painfully beautiful is the best way to put it. Best kind of hurt.
So much love for this. I think I'll be bookmarking for later reading.
(no subject)
From:(no subject)
Date: 2008-07-17 10:17 pm (UTC)The fact that the Doctor's shadow is so very multifaceted is just perfect... Primal and cunning and sweet by turns. I adore it.
And yay for mention of Charlie!
(no subject)
From: