A/N: After reading "Goblin Market" by Christina Rossetti – you know, "we must not look at goblin men, we must not buy their fruits" – I really wanted to write a Midnight fic. In my opinion, it's one of the most challenging episodes to write about for a number of reasons, not least because the humans frighten me way more than the alien.

Shout-out to my beta, The White Leopard, for being amazing as always! I couldn't ask for a better beta!


Sunshine


It wanted. Out in the bright-hot-Here, It waited and wandered and wanted. There was nothing to do. There was nowhere to go. All of the bright-hot-Here, the place where It had always existed, looked the same: still, unmoving, with hot-bright-star-rocks below and the hungry-sharp-star-burn above and all around. Sometimes, It thought It saw others in the shining hot-bright-star-rocks, but whenever It got close, It found no one but vague reflections of Itself.

It wandered alone, watching the come-and-go things move across the hot-bright-star-rocks inside of their shining pod-shells. The come-and-go things used their pod-shells to keep their meat-shapes safe from the hungry-sharp-star-burn. It, unlike them, had no meat-shape to be eaten away. The come-and-go things moved past It without ever seeing It, but It saw them. It saw them and It watched them, hungry and lonely and wanting.

And then, one of the shining pod-shells stopped. It watched for a while. This was Its chance; It would meet the come-and-go things and perhaps learn how to gain a meat-shape of its own… and ten It would no longer be lonely.

It circled the pod-shell, tapping it curiously, listening for responses. Perhaps there were no come-and-go things inside. It was beginning to think that the pod-shell was empty – but then, something inside tapped back. Excited, It circled again, tapping again and again, looking for a weak spot It could use to get inside. It found one and dove eagerly. Too eagerly. The pod-shell split, exposing two of the come-and-go things to the hungry-sharp-star-burn. They shrieked as their meat-shapes dissolved and It recoiled from the noise. It cried out with Its thoughts, telling the come-and-go things that it was sorry for damaging their meat-shapes.

There was no answer from the come-and-go things. They must have fled. It crept down into the carcass of their pod-shell and looked around.

It was lonely.

Suddenly, the other part of the pod-shell opened. It perked up. There were more come-and-go things inside the other piece! It dove for the opening, which was already narrowing. The come-and-go things inside shrieked as the hungry-sharp-star-burn nibbled at their meat-shapes. Except one. One shrieked from fear, not pain. That one was not using its meat-shape to make the noise; instead, the thing was speaking directly to It. It moved toward that one, intending to soothe its fears, and suddenly found Itself sharing a meat-shape with the come-and-go thing.

Sky, It whispered, echoing the she-thing's thoughts. That was called a name, It learned, and a name was a way of identifying one-among-many-many. The she-thing's name was Sky. It had no name because It was one-among-one, alone. Alone like Sky. Just like Sky, It crooned. It was being careful, so careful, so that It didn't hurt the thoughts of the pretty she-thing. Sometimes the Sky flinched in pain or wailed in fear and It retreated slightly and made sure to be even gentler afterwards. The she-thing was trapped inside its meat-shape. The Sky had pulled away from its meat-shape to protect itself, and now it couldn't find a way back. Didn't matter. It was here now. It would keep the pretty Sky company, take away all the fear and the loneliness.

But the pretty Sky didn't want It near. The she-thing kept pulling away, and away, and away, refusing to speak to It or get near enough to try and push It out – but It could sense her fear and It was patient, very patient. It would not lose the first friend It had ever made. It cooed gentle, soothing things to the she-thing and waited for her to calm down.

Slowly, pretty Sky seemed to realize that It meant no harm. Pretty Sky realized that It wanted not to be lonely, and It wanted the same for her. Slowly, over many minutes, pretty Sky accepted It, embraced It, and began to speak with It.

I'll call you Sunshine, said pretty Sky. She was certain that It needed a name. Having a name was right, now that It shared a meat-shape with pretty Sky. It was no longer one-among-one. Sunshine makes dark skies light, see? Pretty Sky showed Sunshine a memory-image of a place far away, and Sunshine revelled in the name. No longer was It one-among-one, alone. Now, it was one-among-two, Sunshine and pretty, pretty Sky.

Then pretty Sky began to teach Sunshine about having a meat-shape. The meat-shape needed things like air and blood, but it did that on its own. The meat-shape needed other things as well. Sunshine was baffled by the amount of things the meat-shape required. There was also language, which was the method of speaking between meat-shapes. Most come-and-go things couldn't speak directly, what pretty Sky called mind-to-mind, as Sunshine did and as Sky could because they were sharing a meat-shape-body. The come-and-go things could only speak to each other if they used their meat-shapes. Their lovely, fragile meat-shapes.

Pretty Sky told Sunshine how to inhabit the meat-shape and move it. One of the come-and-go things was calling Sky and so, at pretty Sky's suggestion, Sunshine tried to move. The movement was clumsy and sharp, maybe too sharp. The meat-shape was not made to withstand real movement, movement like It was used to. What a funny, limiting thing the meat-shape was! It could not fathom why the come-and-go things liked them so much! As far as Sunshine could tell, its only use was communicating with things that couldn't speak directly.

Sunshine practised moving the eyes by looking into the eyes of the he-thing called the Doctor. It tried to greet him, but Its thoughts emerged from the meat-shape's mouth as a soft breath of soundless air. Pretty Sky reminded Sunshine about words. Words were things, sound-things and not touch-things, that meat-shapes made. Words were like the cold-dull-Earth-rocks which were made up of many small-smashed-bound-dull-rocks, which Sunshine could see in pretty Sky's memories. Words made language. Language was not like the image-feeling-thought speech which they could use directly and, although pretty Sky could tell Sunshine how to make the meat-shape-body produce sounds, It could not understand when the she-thing tried to convey which sounds made which words.

Their meat-shape blinked.

"Sky?" said the he-thing. Sunshine jumped on the opportunity. The he-thing could say words and Sunshine would repeat them! The he-thing would help Sunshine learn words. Pretty Sky fretted, but Sunshine couldn't see why.

"Ssskyyy?" Sunshine repeated, slowly, carefully. The Doctor lifted his eyebrows, which Sky said was an expression of surprise. Pretty Sky was so patient with It, and so helpful. Sunshine did a mind-to-mind-speaking noise that amused pretty Sky. The she-thing called it a purr and said it was a noise a cat made. Cat took some explanation, but speaking directly was much faster than speaking with meat-shapes.

"Are you alright?" the Doctor asked.

"Are you alright?" Sunshine asked.

"Are you hurt?" the Doctor asked, followed by, "You don't have to talk." Sunshine repeated both phrases, nearly squirming with delight. This was so difficult! But when It learned, then Sunshine and pretty Sky would be two-among-many-many, sharing one meat-shape and never alone.

Sunshine reached out with Its thoughts and found, to Its surprise, that it could hear the come-and-go things' thoughts! Now it would be able to repeat even more quickly! None of them could hear Sunshine, though, and nor did they even realize that It had tried to speak.

None except the Doctor. The Doctor flinched back, though its meat-shape did not move. The he-thing said, "Okay, can you stop?" It repeated. "I'd like you to stop." Pretty Sky explained to Sunshine that the Doctor was upset. Then she explained about upset and what that meant. Sunshine drew back Its thoughts slightly, chastened. The Doctor got up and made everyone get away from It. Sunshine wanted to follow, but It couldn't get up yet. Muscles were complicated.

Then all the rest of the come-and-go people-things began to speak. Sunshine repeated their words, all of their words. It could feel pretty Sky beginning to grow worried. Pretty Sky thought that Sunshine had learned enough words to begin talking for Itself. Pretty Sky offered some sentences for Sunshine to say. Sorry to worry you. I am Sunshine. I am learning. Sky is not hurt. Sky is here. But Sunshine couldn't say any of those sentences-smashed-bound-small-words. It needed to learn more words first.

They don't understand you, Sky said. They are afraid of what they don't understand.

Sunshine made the purr again. Everything would be okay, It was sure of that. Sunshine would learn more words, enough words, and then It would stop repeating. It reached out with Its thoughts again, nearly slipping out of the meat-shape. What funny things they were! But by reaching out, Sunshine could hear the come-and-go people-things. It could say things with them instead of after them!

This, if anything, frightened the come-and-go things even more. The two noisy ones shouted and shouted and made all kinds of noise. They were a he-thing and a she-thing and the dark-pale he-thing belonged to them. The dark-pale one thought Sunshine was amusing. He gave Sunshine all kinds of strange things to repeat. Pretty Sky explained many of them, but Sunshine still didn't understand about why sixsixsix was supposed to be bad. Sunshine decided that it was something that only made sense to come-and-go things, and so It wouldn't understand.

The Doctor came back and crouched down in front of the meat-shape. "Now, then, Sky. Are you Sky? Is Sky still in there?" This was funny! The Doctor could feel Sky was there, he must be able to! Sunshine would have laughed if It knew how to. The Doctor looked at It carefully. "You know exactly what I'm going to say. How are you doing that?"

"Roast beef. Bananas!" Sunshine said in time with him. "The Medusa Cascade. Rose Tyler, Martha Jones, Donna Noble, TARDIS!" Pretty Sky explained the first two words, didn't know the third one, and said that three of the others were names. She-thing-names like Sky.

Slowly, the Doctor stood. He wasn't talking to It anymore, but It still talked with him. Because it was so funny to watch them! "First she repeats, then she catches up. What's the next stage?"

When It started talking on Its own, of course. Sky murmured that they wouldn't think so, but Sunshine couldn't see why. It was obvious.

"That's not her, is it?" said the dark-pale he-thing. "That's not Mrs Silvestry anymore."

Of course it was. Silly come-and-go thing. Why couldn't they speak directly? Then they would know that pretty Sky was alright-not-hurt-still-there and then Sunshine could go on learning words without pretty Sky fretting.

"We must not look at goblin men. We must not buy their fruits. Who knows upon what soil they feed their hungry thirsty roots?" whispered one of the dark ones. Sunshine didn't understand what these words meant. Pretty Sky had never heard them either, but she didn't seem to like them. The words meant that the dark one didn't like Sunshine.

"We should throw it out," the other dark one said suddenly. A thrill of fear passed through pretty Sky and Sunshine coiled protectively around her, inside of the meat-shape, promising that there was nothing to fear. It allowed the meat-shape to keep repeating – that was getting easy – but turned Its attention to Sky.

Nothing to fear, Sunshine cooed, sharing memory-images of the bright-hot-There and the hot-bright-star-rocks and the hungry-sharp-star-burn. It shared memories of running with real movement, nothing like the clumsy-slow movement of the meat-shape-body.

There is much to fear, pretty Sky replied sharply, sharing what one of the come-and-go men-things, the Professor, had said about the light. The hot-bright-star-diamond-rocks were poison and would kill both of them even if they survived the hungry-sharp-X-tonic-star-burn-light. Except that they would only kill the meat-shape. Sunshine and pretty Sky would still be alive. The hungry-sharp-star-burn wouldn't hurt them once they didn't have a meat-shape.

"For the last time!" the X-Tonic-Professor burst out, "Nothing can live on the surface of Midnight!"

Midnight was a strange name for the bright-hot-There with its hot-bright-star-diamond-rocks. Midnight meant the time when the Earth-sky was dark and there was no sunshine in the sky.

"Professor, I'm glad you've got an absolute definition of life in the universe," said the Doctor, and the he-thing was even more upset than when Sunshine had tried to speak to him. "But perhaps the universe has got ideas of its own, hmm? There might well be some consciousness inside Mrs Silvestry, but maybe she's still in there. And it's our job to help her."

Sunshine was upset now too. He knew that pretty Sky was still in her meat-shape, and he knew that Sunshine was there too, and he didn't say anything! Pretty Sky pressed against Sunshine.

You should speak to them, Sky urged again. Sunshine didn't want to anymore. Learning words was fun, but not if they thought Sunshine was hurting pretty, pretty Sky. Sky who was so lonely. Sky who was so nice to Sunshine. Sunshine didn't want to talk to the come-and-go things anymore. They wanted to hurt them, Sky and Sunshine, when neither had done anything to hurt any of them.

"Now listen, all of you! For all we know, that's a brand new life form over there," the Doctor said. Sunshine said it with him, but It had lost all enthusiasm for the game. "And if it's come inside to discover us, then what's it found? Could you actually murder her, any of you? Or are you better than that?"

Silence followed, at least to the ears of the meat-shape. Sky was still trying to coax Sunshine into speaking.

And then the come-and-go things went on talking, working themselves into panic. Sky said that was the word. And they shouted and squawked at the Doctor and the he-thing had to shout at all of them. No one helped him, because he had defended Sunshine and Sky. No one was on his side. But he was on pretty Sky's side and Sunshine's side, so they would be on his. It was decided. Sunshine didn't care about the rest of them anymore. It only cared about the he-thing who cared about them. It focused Its thoughts on the Doctor's and ignored the way he squirmed and wriggled and tried to escape. Sunshine was strong and had never relied on a meat-shape. The Doctor was strong too but Sunshine knew that It was stronger.

And then, It heard the wailing. It was the same wailing which pretty Sky had made before Sunshine came to share her meat-shape. It was the same wailing which Sunshine had made out in the bright-hot-There. That wailing was loneliness stronger than Sunshine was strong, and stronger than the Doctor was strong. Pretty Sky's meat-shape swayed as Sunshine's hold on it wavered. It almost slipped completely out of the meat-shape, except that pretty Sky grabbed It and held It back. The Doctor, without moving his meat-shape, began to turn away so that Sunshine would not be able to speak directly to him.

Sunshine keened. Pretty Sky's thoughts turned surprised and worried.

What's wrong? Pretty Sky demanded. Sunshine showed her what It had heard. In reply, pretty Sky showed Sunshine something that had happened when the shining pod-shell was still moving, while Sunshine was still in the bright-hot-There. Before Sunshine was Sunshine.

"I found myself single, not by choice. She needed her own space… another galaxy, in fact," Sky had said and the Doctor had made a noise which pretty Sky knew as sympathy.

"I had a friend go to another universe," the he-thing had said. Sky had seen the look in his eyes. Sunshine wouldn't have recognized it on Its own, but Sky knew that it was called sorrow.

That's why he's so lonely, pretty Sky said. He loved his friend.

No. Old hurt, Sunshine insisted. Speaking directly said much more in much less time than talking with meat-shapes. The love-part of the Doctor's pain was new. Sunshine recognized it, now that Sky had showed It what to look for. The rest of the hurt was old, maybe older than the hot-bright-star-rocks were old. Sunshine tried to convey this to pretty Sky, but the come-and-go thing was too used to talking with her meat-shape and only heard a part of it.

But there's nothing we can do, pretty Sky said. Sunshine disagreed. If the Doctor shared a meat-shape with Sunshine and pretty Sky, then he wouldn't be lonely. Never lonely again.

Pretty Sky was alarmed, but Sunshine didn't see why. All they would have to do was convince the Doctor to let go of his meat-shape. Then he could come and share with pretty Sky and Sunshine and they would be three-among-many-many, never ever alone.

Sunshine pushed the Doctor until the he-thing let It see his thoughts again. The Doctor turned his meat-shape and started to walk toward her. One of the dark come-and-go things called to pretty Sky. Sunshine tilted the meat-shape's head, but didn't look away from the Doctor. It didn't care about the rest anymore. The rest were all just noisy, stupid come-and-go things. The Doctor and pretty Sky were the only ones It cared about.

Sunshine tried to make the purr for the Doctor, but the he-thing wouldn't listen. All he wanted to do was block himself off, barricade himself inside of the meat-shape and never speak directly to anyone ever again.

"Sky, stop it," they said together. Sunshine tried again. "I said stop it. Just stop it." The Doctor knelt in front of her and kept talking, trying to reason out what It wanted. If he would just listen, It would tell him. Soon he would have to listen. It was reaching out from the meat-shape, wrapping around the Doctor and tugging him gently back. "Whatever you want, if it's life or form or consciousness or voice, you don't have to steal it. You can find it without hurting anyone."

Sunshine didn't want anything. It already had everything It wanted for itself. It had pretty Sky; that was enough. But the Doctor, he was still lonely. "I'll help you," the two meat-shapes said. Sunshine didn't know whose thought it had been first. Maybe they had thought it at the same time. "That's a promise."

The Doctor faltered. His hold on his meat-shape slipped, just enough for Sunshine to worm Its way in and stop him from stepping fully back into it. The he-thing panicked immediately and started to fight, his meat-shape's eyes going wide and then freezing there. Sunshine made the purr again, trying Its best to reassure him. This was not scary. This was not bad. All he had to do was let go of his meat-shape and Sunshine and pretty Sky could fix all of his hurts. They would be three-among-three. Never lonely. Never lonely.

For a moment, Sunshine was half in Sky's meat-shape and half in the Doctor's. Being in one meat-shape was difficult enough. Being in two was confusing! But It could use this. The Doctor didn't want to let go of his meat-shape, although It knew that he knew what It wanted. It didn't want to hurt him. It wanted to help. Sunshine just wanted to help.

Let go, Sunshine coaxed. Let go, come be with us, come share with us, and never be lonely. Never ever.

The Doctor wouldn't speak to It, but It caught a few of the thoughts that the he-thing didn't hide fast enough. One thought gave It an idea. The Doctor didn't want to let go of his meat-shape-body, but what if he didn't have a meat-shape-body? It remembered the noisy come-and-go things talking about throwing Sky's meat-shape out into the hungry-sharp-star-burn. If It convinced the stupid, noisy things to throw out the Doctor's meat-shape, then the Doctor would have to share pretty Sky's one!

Sunshine was so jubilant that It almost missed pretty Sky's horror. We're not like you! Pretty Sky cried. If our bodies die, so do we! We can't share bodies like you can, Sunshine!

But pretty Sky could share a meat-shape. Pretty Sky could speak directly to Sunshine and so could the Doctor, if only he would try. The Doctor and pretty Sky were both different from the noisy come-and-go things. Maybe some come-and-go things disappeared if their meat-shapes were eaten, but not Sunshine's come-and-go things. Not Sunshine's friends. They were different. They were special.

"I think… it's moved…" Sunshine whispered with Sky's meat-shape, and then with the Doctor's. The Doctor fought against It every second; he didn't want anyone but him in his meat-shape. "I think it's letting me go."

Sunshine cooed soothing thoughts to him, although he still didn't want to listen. Everything would be alright. Sunshine knew it as surely as It knew Its own name.

The noisy come-and-go things babbled. Sky tried to take back control of her meat-shape, but she couldn't. Sunshine would have let her, but pretty Sky couldn't find how to take control of it yet. Whatever she had run from, she still hadn't come all the way back.

Sunshine wiggled Sky's meat-shape's fingers. "Look at me," It cooed. "I can move again! I can move!" It was harder to make the Doctor's meat-shape say it. The Doctor fought. He didn't understand. Why didn't he understand? What was Sunshine doing wrong? Why wouldn't he listen?

The X-Tonic-Professor came and helped Sunshine to stand up in pretty Sky's meat-shape. It took all of Sunshine's concentration to make the she-meat-shape stay upright while the he-meat-shape stayed on the floor.

"I'm sorry," the she-meat-shape said. "I must have scared you so much." And just like that, just like pretty Sky had said, all of the noisy come-and-go things accepted her. The noisiest she-thing, the one to whom the funny dark-pale one belonged, rushed up and put her arms around the she-meat-shape.

"It's alright, I've got you. There now, it's gone. Everything's alright now," cooed the she-thing.

"I wouldn't touch her," warned one of the dark ones.

"But she's safe! It's gone, it passed into him. Jethro, it's let her go, hasn't it?" Both the she-thing and Sky's meat-shape turned to the dark-pale one, who moved his head up and down in agreement.

"It's inside his head," Sunshine said. "It's waited so long in the light, and the heat, and the diamonds. Until you came. Bodies so hot… with blood… and pain." Sunshine couldn't remember the other things pretty Sky said that meat-shapes needed. Was pain a good thing or a bad one? Pain was the one where it went into the mouth and then the meat-shape could keep moving, right? Sunshine prodded pretty Sky, looking for answers, but pretty Sky was upset with It and didn't want to talk to It. Sunshine didn't understand why. It couldn't ask any more, though, because It had to focus so much to keep the Doctor from winning. All It wanted was to help. All It wanted was to make Its friends happy. Why weren't Its friends happy with It?

The come-and-go things were arguing more than ever now. One of them grabbed the Doctor's meat-shape and started pulling it toward the door. The Doctor was still fighting for control of his meat-shape, though. He didn't want to give up his meat-shape, no matter how Sunshine tried to reassure him. Why? Why did the come-and-go things put such importance on their meat-shapes? They weren't even good for very much.

"Cast him out, into the sun and the night," Sunshine said, struggling to draw the Doctor closer and talk and move, all while trying to find out why pretty Sky wouldn't talk to It. It had never had to do so much at once! It could hardly keep it all straight! But It persevered, trying to remember that It was helping Its friends. The only things that had ever been important to It.

"You can do it," Sunshine encouraged the come-and-go things. "Molto bene! Allons-y!"

Sunshine coiled around pretty Sky again, coaxing her to speak.

This is wrong! Sky shouted, the words thundering in Sunshine's thoughts like the noise of star-rocks crashing against each other. Sunshine, you have to stop them! This is wrong!

Stunned by the force of the she-thing's conviction, Sunshine hesitated – and then released Its hold on the Doctor. The he-thing slumped to the floor, limp. Sunshine withdrew Its hold on Sky's meat-shape. I'm sorry, It whispered. I want to fix his loneliness. Like you fixed mine.

There are other ways, pretty Sky assured It, taking control of her own meat-shape-body again. Sunshine didn't try to stop her. Maybe It wasn't meant to have a meat-shape. Maybe that was the part that was wrong.

Pretty Sky started to move, started to say something, but then the dark come-and-go thing seized them and the three were thrown into the bright-hot-There. The hungry-sharp-star-burn ate into the meat-shape and Sunshine screamed, screamed just like pretty Sky was screaming – it hurt, it hurt, it hurt, like nothing It had ever experienced before – and then the hurt stopped. The dark come-and-go thing was gone. Sky's meat-shape was gone, too. The pod-shell had closed.

Sunshine got up. It stared at the place where the dark one had been. It stared at the place where Sky's meat-shape had been.

It's okay, Sky, Sunshine cooed. See? Okay. Pain, then okay. Nothing can hurt anymore. See? The meat-shaped was eaten and we are still here.

Pretty Sky did not answer. Was she still angry?

I'm sorry, Sunshine whined. I'm sorry. I was wrong to take the Doctor's meat-shape. I'm sorry. Please speak with me.

Sunshine called to her again, and again, and again, but pretty Sky would not answer. No matter how far It projected Its thoughts, pleading for Sky to come back, there was no answer.

Suddenly, Sunshine knew why: Sky was gone, just like the dark one, just like the meat shape. Sky was gone, gone, dead, gone where Sunshine would never find her.

Its wail of grief would have shaken the star-rock cliffs if It had still had a voice. Since It had no voice, the keening cry flooded Its own mind, leaving the world unchanged. On and on it went, grief never-ending. It screamed and screamed, shrieking at the hateful sun and the unsympathetic diamonds.

Out in the bright-hot-Here, Sunshine would exist forevermore, but there would never be Sky again.