A/N
HELLLOOOOO MY LOVELIES! AND HELLOOOOO NEW LOVELIES, I WOULD SUGGEST READING THE FIRST TWO STORIES BEFORE THIS ONE, YOU MIGHT BE CONFUSED IF YOU DON'T, FIRST IS THE GLOWING STARS AND NEXT IS ACROSS THE GLOWING STARS!
Anyhoo, well, I'm back, getting everything together, and an idea formed and such. This will be the last installment of Evy's story, so hold on to your hats, it's going to be a roller coaster if everything goes as planned. Which, let's be honest here, it probably won't.
This chapter was difficult to write, mostly because I'm having war-like flashbacks to when Ten regenerated in the show, and it's bringing up horrid feelings of sadness and furious denial haha poor Eleven, I'm going to be honest, I hated him for half his run just because he dared to exist.
But honestly, how can you hate that man for long? Sometimes I disagree with the way Moffat and his co-authors write the Doctor and his companions, but he's way too damn adorable to hate. I grew to love him just as much as any other Doctor (okay, maybe with the exception of Ten, I love Ten more than is healthy, and Twelve is well on his way...) because he's the Doctor, he always will be the Doctor, and he'll always need his companions to love him, no matter who he ends up as.
Which I think is the most beautiful part of the show, honestly.
ANYWAYS, glad to be back. Hopefully I'll have some time to write more often than I did the past few months of the semester, but I can't make any promises folks. It'll be just like ATGS, with me updating as I have time to write and as my muse allows, you all know how it is.
Hope you're all doing well and loving life, because you deserve nothing less. Each and every one of you is creative and imaginative and adventurous and I adore every single one of you, I can't even reiterate that enough :] Love me some Whovians.
Also I'm thinking of making a Tumblr page, just for DW stuff, as well as TGS stuff and such, idk. What do you guys think?
Lots of love,
-A
"Doctor, shouldn't we be-"
"No, no no no, Evy, you're supposed to be saying 'marco'! Nice and loud," I hear echoing from down the corridors, and my eyes move towards his voice in the darkness under my silky blindfold, "MARCO! Like that! Come on, give it a go!"
"I know how to play Marco Polo, but don't you think-"
"Well you're rubbish at it."
"Don't you think we should see where we've landed?" I say, my voice sharp, taking his old tie off in an angry swipe.
I jump a bit when I find his face close to mine, brow furrowed. His voice had sounded so far away, yet he's less than a foot away from me.
"Landed? What are you going on about?"
I step back a bit, just enough so I can't feel his breath on my face, sweetened by the double fudge chocolate frosted brownie sundaes he had insisted we have for breakfast.
It's like he's regenerated backwards through eleven lives to when he was five years old…
"This morning, you… told me that we crashed yesterday after you fixed the T.A.R.D.I.S. You said she fell out of orbit when you regenerated, or something."
"Did I? Are you sure, I don't remember saying that… Don't you think I would remember if we had crashed?" He says, sweeping through a doorway into the console room, typing for a moment, and then pulling a screen around.
He stares at it as if it's just spit on his face.
"Spin me 'round and call me Shirley, we have crashed!" He says, smiling widely, "Isn't that… thrilling!"
"Is the T.A.R.D.I.S going to be alright, though? She's been acting strange, is that why, because she's damaged?"
"Oh, no, she's going to be fine, she just sort of… hates you right now. Not to worry, she's not damaged, not too badly at least." He says, patting the console.
"Hates me? Why?" I pause, looking up at the ceiling, "Was that the nightgown fiasco? The sink explosion? The shower using sludge instead of water?"
He gives me an apologetic little smirk, adjusting his bowtie.
Such a peculiar outfit he's chosen. He looks like a professor I had in college once, an English teacher, I think. Not sure, though, could've been History.
It was a long time ago.
"She's just confused. You're all wrong, your presence… upsets her, but she'll get over it! Until then, let's see what's outside those doors!" He says, rubbing his hands together and rounding the console.
This room is all wrong, too. It's all metal and shiny, clean cut shapes and colors. The console is more jumbled up, with so many buttons and levers and contraptions, I doubt I could even count them all correctly, let alone learn to use them. The rotor in the center isn't round anymore, it's a bulbous kind of blown-glass looking contraption. Nothing even looks familiar.
A sinking feeling drags my hearts down into my feet.
It took me years to learn to fly the last T.A.R.D.I.S, and now…
I follow him silently, peeking over his shoulder when he opens one of the doors. All I can see is something shiny green and metallic looking. Light glints off of it.
"Ha!"
"What, where are we?" I say, trying to get a better view.
"You might want to go put on some better shoes…" He murmurs, finally letting me past to look out.
"Better shoes?" I say, looking out over the flat expanse in front of me. It's much too colorful for my liking, honestly. The ground, that is.
There's that bright metallic green I'd glimpsed, and then a dark purple, and blinding pink, and canary yellow, all blotchy and out of place, all over the ground. It looks like rock to me, just… colored differently.
"Put on those glass-soled boots, you know, the ones we wore on Kwento, you'll need them." He says, grinning and bounding through the console room, into the wardrobe.
The what?
"Not sure I recall, sorry, did you say glass shoes? Who makes shoes out of glass, isn't that… stupid?" I say, following him, and I watch him bound up the spiral stairs, now shiny and metal like the rest of the T.A.R.D.I.S.
"Oh, come on, you remember, how could you forget? It was just last year, you had to walk across that lake of-" He stops talking, his feet stopping as well, looking down at me from the second level of the wardrobe with a frown that I can feel in my mind.
"That was her, not me." I say softly, feeling small all of the sudden. I cross my arms, my hands rubbing away the cold that's just rushed through me.
He watches me for a moment longer with that frown, as though I'm a stain on his precious new bowtie or something, before disappearing into one of the closets.
"Catch!" I hear, and I flounder to snatch the supposedly glass-soled boots that are careening towards me from the second-floor.
I stumble under the weight of them, and I know I'll have bruises on my arms tomorrow from the impact.
"You trying to kill me? Who throws glass shoes?" I huff, putting them down to have a proper look.
They're mostly made of normal boot-like material, what appears to be black leather, going up to a little less than halfway up my calf.
"Oh those puppies won't break, made with a very, very special kind of glass. That's why they're a bit heavy. The density is higher than the glass you think of when you think of… Well, glass." The Doctor says, clunking down the metal stairs with his own pair of boots already on.
I start unlacing the boots, slipping out of the flats I found in my personal section of the wardrobe.
Well… Her section, mine, hers, ours.
I slip my foot inside just as the Doctor reaches the first level, and he stomps his way to me, lifting his legs a bit ridiculously as he walks.
They don't look particularly easy to walk in…
"They're not! But I don't know about you, I'd rather keep my feet than be fashionable. I don't think they're too shabby though, sort of flashy!" He says, and I snap my eyes to his.
"Stay out of my head." I say before even thinking the words, and his eyes widen a little. He raises his hands in an apologetic gesture, dropping his gaze from mine.
He brushes past me, the comforting coolness that is him retracting from my mind, leaving me alone to lace myself into the boots.
Very nice, Evy. You're making it real easy for both of you to adjust, being so pleasant and sweet all the time. How do you do it?
I grimace, yanking the laces a bit more forcefully than is necessary, wishing I could just move past all this. Move past it like the Doctor had inadvertently taught me to over the years.
But he's gone, and it's just me, and I have to be strong for myself.
For now. Maybe forever. I don't know.
I finally lace myself into the boots, and take the first step towards the console room.
Jeez, it's at least an extra five pounds on each foot! How are we going to get around in these for long?
I heave myself into the console room, making an awful lot of racket, to see that he's waiting for me by the doors, looking sullen.
I take a deep breath, pushing the guilt away.
He's the one who did this to us, yanked me into this universe…
He gives me a little smile then, watching me drag myself towards the doors, as if he finds it incredibly adorable.
But by doing so, he also saved my life… If he had let the timeline progress naturally, I would be dead right now.
"Would you like to do the honors, Miss Crenshaw?" He says, nodding to the doors, holding out his arm.
My eyes shift to that arm for a moment, before I take it. Without a word, I push gently on the doors, and they swing open.
I can feel him watching me, feel that I've hurt him.
"It would be my pleasure, Mr. Doctor."
That's what I'm supposed to say, I know…
I just can't. This is all crazy and chaotic and wrong…
"So what's with the rainbow rock?" I say as I step out onto this bright mess of color. He snaps out of his funk, pointing down to our feet.
"It's not the rock that's causing the color, per se. It's what's on it," He says, and when I look at him, his eyes glimmer in excitement, "The rock is called kovak, made of a very special, very beautifully structured molecule that turns a certain color whenever a substance of a specific pH comes into contact with it."
I almost smile, watching him rant.
His first adventure as this Doctor. A test run, so to speak.
"So it's sort of like an indicator? Like they do to test for things in medical labs and such?" I say, trying to keep up as he takes the lead and starts stomping his way faster across the slightly squishy rainbow rock.
"Exactly, well sort of, yes!" He says, pausing to point to a particularly diversely colored spot, "See that right there, that means that there a lot of different levels of acid. The bright green is the highest concentration, then purple, then pink, then orange, then yellow, and so on."
"Well, what's the acid from? Is it pollution?" I say, and he shakes his head, extricating himself from me to crouch down on a bright green patch. I flinch when he reaches for it, but his hand just hovers over the ground, as if longing to touch it.
"No, not at all, the indigenous life here tends to avoid this area. It's bacteria, little tiny single-celled organisms feeding on the rock itself. They can metabolize kovak like it's nothing, like it's… yummy. Their waste is extremely acidic." He says, retracting his hand and standing up, "Imagine, if you were to trip, that acid would melt you to a a gummy puddle after about... Oh, twenty minutes or so!"
"Oh, good, how lovely." I say, suddenly aware of how easy it would be to topple over in these ridiculous boots, "What about the T.A.R.D.I.S, is she going to be alright in it?"
"Oh better than alright, her shields are completely functional, she'll be right as rain."
I nod, and we look out into the vast plain of colorful rock, lined with brightly colored foliage, short little stumpy trees, which must also be adapted to this horrid environment, judging by the color.
What seems to be a cliff lies off in the distance, with a hazy horizon beyond it, blue-ish magenta, just like the sky. It looks like Candyland or something, with all these bright colors everywhere...
"Watch this." The Doctor says, giving me a eyebrow wiggle before making a god-awful gurgling, snorting sound in the back of his throat. He turns, leans back, then jerks forward, launching a gigantic ball of spit onto the ground in front of us.
Umm…
I give him a faltering grin, nodding my head as if in approval.
"Wow, a very impressive spitting… radius." I say, and he preens, lifting his chin proudly.
"Thank you, I won gold in the Haldorian Spitlympics of 9654… But that's not what I meant, look!" He says, pointing to the ground, where his saliva landed.
The kovak had been yellow, but now it's just… gray. Like Earth rock or something.
"Whoa…" I say and he nods.
"The water in my spit helped to neutralize the acid. Wouldn't work on that more concentrated acid, but still… Cool, isn't it?"
I give him a mischievous smirk, then gather a good amount of spit in my own mouth before trying to launch it the same way he did.
It ends up just kind of oozing down my chin, and onto my special glass boots.
The Doctor lets out a ringing sort of belly-laugh, and I can't help but smile as I wipe my mouth with my sleeve.
"And I thought my form was nearly perfect!" I say, and he puts his arm around my shoulders, squeezing me to him.
"Don't get yourself down, it takes years of careful practice and dedication to master the technique." He says. We walk like that for a bit, his arm around me, my body sort of jostling against his as we struggle to lift our feet.
It feels nice, at least acting like we're close again.
Feeling it though, that's another story…
"Doctor…"
"Hmm?"
"Did I have a dog when I was little?"
He opens his mouth, eyes upon the color-streaked sky.
"Hopefully, love dogs, dogs are a sentient life-form's best friend, who doesn't love a nice dog?" He says, and I nod slowly.
"Yeah… I was just wondering… Where your Evy branched off from me, you know, where the timelines split." I pause, and when he doesn't say anything, I let out a breath, starting to feel my leg muscles burn, "I mean, how different were we? Did she have a dog named Juju who meant the world to her when she was little? Did she feel as lonely as I did? Did she hate spiders? Did she love Greek food? I look like her and I talk like her, and I might even think like her, but… This morning I was rummaging through a stranger's closet for clothes, I'm wearing someone else's…"
I duck my head and lower my voice.
"Underwear…" I finish, and his brows rise above the line of his forehead, his green eyes wide. He nods quickly.
"Right, of course you'll be curious, I mean after all, this is a whole new universe. You wouldn't be Evy if you weren't curious…" He says, and shrugs his arm from my shoulders, letting it hang at his side, "You are her. She was you. Don't you understand, you're the same exact version of a human being! The only thing that's different is you happened to be in different places at any given point in time."
"No, that's not true, I don't believe that for a second. I think that what makes a person, what changes their view of the world, are their experiences in life, and… I can tell that you two had different experiences together. The evidence is everywhere, all over the T.A.R.D.I.S… She was different, and I am not that person."
I hesitate, the words tripping on my tongue.
Don't take it out on him, Evy. Be gentle, okay? He's hurting, too…
"No matter how much you want me to be." I settle with, but apparently that wasn't gentle enough because he refuses to look at me, walking in front of me with more and more momentum.
"Can you answer my question?" I say, trying my best to keep up, but his legs are a bit longer, and he's really booking it now.
"Which one? You bombarded me with at least six." He calls back over his shoulder, and I press my lips together, tamping down the annoyance.
He loves to bob and weave, doesn't he?
"How different was she?"
He remains silent, and at this point, my eyes are practically boring holes into his back.
Why is he doing this? How are we ever going to get past this if he doesn't talk to me?
"Doctor, you can't-"
I freeze, and so does he.
A shadow, short but wide, rushes over me, over the Doctor, banking towards the cliff to our right.
I look up, trying to find the source, squinting when I can't make out any movement in the streaked sky.
The Doctor meets my gaze over his shoulder when I look to him. A spark jolts between us, an understanding, and I run towards him, as quick as I can in these dumb boots. He holds out his hand, his eyes scanning the sky above us, darting to and fro.
"Careful, careful! One tumble and you've got chemical burns so bad, your ancestors will feel it! Wouldn't want to inconvenience Azara, would we?" He says when I stumble a little over my own feet, trying to run, keep an eye on the Doctor, and watch the sky for whatever is stalking us, all at the same time.
So we met Azara in this universe...
"There couldn't have been, I don't know, glass-soled trainers, or glass-soled track shoes? They had to be these clunky platform boots?" I say, huffing and puffing as we pick up our pace.
"They're just a little on the heavy side! You're one to talk, you're a hundred pounds heavier than they are! How would you feel if they commented on your weight?" He says, and I wish I had the time and breath to chew him out, but I simply don't.
"Any idea what it is?" I huff instead, my gaze lifting upward once again.
And then my feet stop functioning, slowing to a complete halt within a few seconds.
It's dark, completely dark. Pitch black.
The colorful ground is gone, the pretty magenta streaked sky, the bright foliage… All turned into swirling darkness, curling inwards towards me, obscuring everything.
My eyes widen, my breath coming even quicker.
"Doctor!" I screech, swaying forward when I feel his hand leaving mine, "Where are you?"
What's happening? Why can't I see?
"Evy, just stay calm, your mind is being tampered with, your visual cortex if you want to be specific. It's just- HEY! Get back here! Thief! I need that!" I hear the Doctor shout over the sound of wings, and then heavy footsteps, stomping away from me.
Leaving me.
Alone.
I suck in a few tentative breaths, feeling the warm wind on my skin, the only indication that I'm still where I was a moment ago.
The darkness doesn't lift as I hoped it might.
"Doctor?" I whisper, the darkness beginning to sweep me into a new level of fear, one that eats away at my voice, "Please, where are you?"
I put my hands out in front of me, and then place one foot in front of the other. I can't stop my eyes from searching the darkness ahead, even though I know it's in vain.
He left me! He actually left me, knowing I couldn't see, knowing I was helpless!
A few more steps, feeling my way with the front of the clunky boots protecting me from the acid.
I can't believe this. If I die, after all he's put us through to prevent just that, I swear I'm coming back to haunt the holy hell out of him.
"Hello?" I hiss, practically jumping out of my skin and turning my head towards the sound of rock upon rock. Like someone has thrown a stone or something.
It startles me, causing me to shift my feet just a little too fast for the boots that contain them, hitting an uneven patch of rock, and…
Well this is not good… This whole situation is the opposite of good.
I fall onto my hands and knees, and immediately feel a tingling on my skin.
Ohh, just freakin' perfect.
"Doctor!" I shout one last time, scrambling to stand up, wiping the moisture off my hands on my blouse, and then belatedly realizing that maybe that wasn't the best idea.
The sheer material doesn't do much to protect the skin of my stomach underneath, in fact, I believe it's absorbed the stuff.
Keeping it in contact with my skin.
It begins to sting immediately. My hands and knees go from tingling to a slow sort of burning sensation, causing me to panic a little.
How am I supposed to help myself if I can't even see what I'm doing?
I have to keep myself from wiping furious tears from my eyes, from the pain and from the feeling I can't tamp down anymore, the feeling that I'm beginning to think is less and less irrational.
Abandonment.
He kidnapped me, he regenerated, he left me with this stranger, he left me to fend for myself, blind and alone.
Alone. Alone. Alone.
The burning pain turns to stabbing agony, causes adrenaline to course through me, and the darkness begins to whirl to life, into shapes. A form begins to take shape, latching onto my fear, conjuring up a nightmare.
The flash of a killer's eyes. The glint of sharpened rows of teeth.
An angry creature with scales as black as the longest night, intelligent eyes as red as fresh blood.
A Drackon? Here?
It regards me hungrily, its tongue snaking out from between its fangs. I can barely make out its black wings flaring in the darkness around us.
Before he ditched me, he said something about my visual cortex being messed with…
This must be it, it can't be real. Can it?
The Drackon begins to prowl towards me, faster and faster, and I back up clumsily, one hand behind me, one hand in front as a feeble attempt to protect myself.
And suddenly, it's the Doctor, black like the Drackon, made of wisps of pure darkness, standing there with a wide, crooked grin gracing his familiar face. His eyes glow bright gold.
My Doctor.
His black hair is tousled, his skin and body colorless, but it looks like him.
He gives me a wink before holding out his hand. My hearts do a desperate little flip, writhing with hope.
Is this him? It can't be him, no, obviously not, but what if he's somehow okay, what if it's a message? What if…
I can't help the thrill of relief that washes over me, seeing his face again, even as dark and wrong as it is right now.
"Is it you?" I whisper. The Doctor nods slowly, wisps of black curling off of him from the movement, reaching towards me more urgently.
And that's when I feel like an idiot for believing, even for just a second, that this hallucination, this lie, could be him…
I shake my head, the tears coming more freely now as gut instinct takes over, telling me that taking his hand would have been a very poor choice indeed.
"You can't talk. You can't talk because you're a visual hallucination. You're not real. You're gone."
The phantom retracts its hand, glowering at me, and then he's gone, dissolved into the blackness, and in his place stands… A woman. Made of darkness, like the Doctor had been, but I don't think I know her.
No, I don't know her. Just a random hallucination, it probably means nothing…
She has wild hair, curlier than mine by far, and a sort of sultry look about her. One hand is resting on a gun holster at her hip, the other waving at me, a smug smile on her face. She's either very friendly, or very patronizing…
"Evy, don't worry, I've got the sonic back! All I had to do was spit on the little bugger! Skin adapted to acid reacts poorly with… Evy? Oh, Evy, I leave you for one minute…" I hear the Doctor to my left, the approach of stomping boots, and the woman turns towards his voice, too.
She smiles, as if that voice means love to her, means happiness and joy, and then presses her fingers to her lips, blowing a kiss in his direction.
And then she's gone, up in smoke, back to the shapeless darkness that surrounds me once again.
I realize my mouth is gaped open.
"Let's get you back to the T.A.R.D.I.S. That nasty little Ghastor's effect will wear off soon, but those acid burns are getting a bit icky. Come along, there won't be any scarring if we get back quickly."
I feel his hands on my shoulders, but I wrench out of his grasp, my eyes darting around near where I think he might be.
"You don't love me anymore." I say bluntly.
He hesitates for too long, and his silence is worse than anything he could have possibly said in that moment.
I can't stand the thought of him looking at me while I can't see him... Him observing my pain and vulnerability and emotion laid bare before him, while he's even more unreachable than ever to me.
I begin walking forward, blindly following the faint hum of the T.A.R.D.I.S in my mind, made clearer by the numbness overtaking my thoughts, her melody sort of dissonant and garbled.
The Doctor makes a distressed little grunting sound, yanking me back towards him, hugging me against his chest.
"Aaaand that would be a cliff, how about we not die today, yeah?" I hear his breathy voice above me, and I mechanically push myself out of his embrace, trying to keep my face clean of the evidence of my heart breaking.
He's silent for another moment, and again, I hate his eyes on me, the taste of his ever present mind full of desperate distress.
The acid on my skin is dull compared to this.
"That's not true, Evy." I hear the Doctor behind me, getting closer with his stupid boots, my own stupid boots preventing me from fleeing quicker than a snail's pace in this darkness, "You know it isn't."
"Do I? And how would I know that if you won't talk to me? Your actions sure as hell don't tell me for you." I say, wiping a stray tear from my cheek, and immediately regretting it.
Acid burns the sensitive skin like a match put to gasoline.
I curse colorfully, and finally shut up and allow him to steer me in the right direction. He doesn't talk about what I said.
He's hardly ever avoided anything important between us, especially when we fought. He used to flare up, come to life and show me that he cared enough to fight. This new man, he doesn't care enough to explain himself, or his feelings, or his thoughts, not in the slightest…
Perhaps he would prefer to just forget that anything has even changed. To just forget that we're screwed up, were never meant to meet, let alone be here together.
The man who forgets. Just what I need when all I want is to remember…
He chooses to babble on about the Ghastor instead. Apparently they're scavenging creatures native to this area, structurally similar to a flying squirrel of Earth, adapted to the acidic environment. They're rather feeble things, though, unable to strong-arm their way to survival, and have developed a telepathic method meant to distract.
Their telepathic field causes the neurons in the visual cortex to misfire for a short time, causing hallucinations and temporary blindness that allows the Ghastor to steal from its victim.
The vulture of this planet, never hunting or gathering for itself, only taking from others…
Of course, he explains, a parlor trick like that wouldn't work on a full Time Lord, no way, not a chance.
I used to find his gloating endearing, kind of adorable, the way he would preen…
Right now, though, it just makes me want to punch him with my acid hands.
Keep avoiding it, you stupid man. Let's see how long you can duck and roll before you give in… I've gotten to you plenty of times, why should this be any different?
You're still the Doctor and I'm still Evelyn Crenshaw. And I won't let you shut me out.
I repeat that mantra over and over in my head as the Doctor leads me quickly through the T.A.R.D.I.S doors.
You're still the Doctor…
My vision comes back bit by bit, color and light flooding through the dissipating mist of black. The hallucinations, the monsters and friends and faceless ghosts hovering in the corners of my eyes... They all die with it.
Eventually, I can focus on the face in front of me. The Doctor's green eyes, the color of green leaves in sunlight, are focused upon the task at hand, tending to my burns…
He first took care of my hands and legs, making quick work of it, saying that they will be fine. The skin cells divide quickly on the hands, and heal better.
Now he's on my face, having removed the acid with a towel, damp with some kind of basic, acid-negating solution.
The sonic buzzes at a few different frequencies, its strange green light pulsing ever so slightly. It's a little disorienting at such a close proximity.
"There we are, all fixed up. You may have just a little scarring on your legs, but that's alright, scars are stories!" He says, twirling the sonic in his hand and giving me a smile, "And who doesn't love a good story?"
I clear my throat.
"Actually there's one more spot, it's on my stomach, just under my… Sort of up across my ribs." I say, pointing to the afflicted area, and his eyebrows rise slowly. He nods once in a determined manner.
"Right then! No time to lose, take it off!" He says, his face getting a little red.
I mean, do I really need to take my whole shirt off for him to work on it?
No. But am I going to?
Yes.
I need him to feel comfortable with me, but I don't know how to deal with him. I don't know, I truly don't know…
Anyway, it's not like he hasn't seen it before.
I grab the hem of my blouse and lift it up over my head, easing my curls out of it gently. I stare at him, keeping my face blank, dropping the blouse to the ground.
Well, this is already a little strange...
He fiddles with his fingers, then points to the floor. The cold, metal floor.
"Lay down, it'll be easier." He says, and I stand up from the console's seat.
"Yeah, okay." I say casually, easing myself down onto the floor slowly. Shivers run up and down my spine as soon as my bare skin touches the unforgiving metal, and the Doctor crouches next to me, damp towel in hand.
He stares at the angry, blistered burns before taking a gentle swipe at the wound.
I clench my teeth as the acid fights to stay on my skin, fights being extracted. It's quite painful, like a thousand needles puncturing my skin all at once.
"I'm sorry." The Doctor mutters, seeing my taut jaw and fisted hands.
"S'okay. Need to do it."
"No, not for this." He says, and when I look at him, his hand stills, hovering over the curve of my waist.
I wait for him to continue, watching the color of his eyes darken.
"I'm sorry for… this." He says, gesturing to himself, tossing the rag over his shoulder. Anger broils over his mind into mine.
I'm not sure what to say to that, so I just watch him as he pulls the sonic out again, pointing it at my bare stomach, causing the muscles to flutter as he puts it on a particularly strong frequency.
He watches the movement with interest.
"I don't know… myself, and I suppose I don't even know you. You were right, you aren't the same person, I'm not the same, and I'm sorry I tried to ignore that. It's just…" He says, trailing off, and clenching his jaw, as if speaking is becoming terribly difficult.
At last, I feel as though I have someone to sympathize with. Someone who understands what it's like.
To lose someone, but have them standing right in front of you.
"Overwhelming… I know... I completely get it. I mean, if you think about it, I'm alone. No one in this universe is mine, no one belongs to me, and I don't belong to anyone. Not even my parents in this universe, I can't even call them mine. Not even the elements in my body belong here… I'm completely alone now. It would be easier to just pretend we're..." I trail off, realizing the truth of the words as they leave my mouth.
I really am. I have no one, not really.
"Welcome to a day in my life." He says, giving me a regretful smirk, waving the sonic over me one last time before stashing it in his pocket.
Last of his kind, no matter what universe… I suppose that's even more bleak. At least there are other humans for me. He honestly is alone… Without me, that is…
And I'm alone without him...
"But we can't just make believe that everything is normal, that nothing's changed..." I say softly, and he nods.
We're quiet for a few moments, before I feel the need to break the silence.
Plus the sooner I get off this freezing metal floor, the better.
"So, will there be any scarring there? Do I have to worry about bikini season?" I say, and he lets out a little chuckle. He runs his fingers over the now smooth skin on my stomach, leaving a trail of goosebumps. My hearts do an inexplicable little leap at his touch, pulsing a little faster in false anticipation.
An innocent, chaste touch, nothing more.
Calm down, body.
"Not at all, I think you'll be just fine, look at you, you're perfect. No one will even notice." He says, smiling and standing up to offer me his hand. I take it, and he pulls me to my feet towards him, a hand on my bare waist to steady me.
It's moments like this that I know it's him. I know it's the Doctor, no matter which one, no matter from which universe, because otherwise, I wouldn't be feeling this way. I wouldn't ache to feel him hold me, or want more than anything else to feel that coolness threading its way through my thoughts, whispering memories of love to my entire being.
I let out a nervous chuckle, stepping back to carefully snatch my blouse off the floor, intensely aware of the absence of his hands on me.
"Thank you. For healing me." I say, feeling a little exposed, being unable to put the acid-laced shirt back on…
"Anytime you've got second degree chemical burns, I'm your man!" He says, nodding, making his way to the console as I turn away towards the bedroom wing, taking a few steps.
But I'm not quite done with you, am I?…
I turn back abruptly.
"And Doctor?"
"Hmm?"
I run my newly healed hand through my hair, rubbing the back of my head.
"Can we… sort of start over? I was just thinking, maybe it would be easier…" I say.
His hands pause over the foreign buttons and levers, the T.A.R.D.I.S letting out a sort of groaning hiss. He pats the console, as if reassuring her, and she goes back to humming.
"Of course," he says, "Hello Evy, nice to meet you, I'm the Doctor, I'm a Time Lord from Gallifrey, I hate pears, and I enjoy long walks on the beach... I think. The hatred of pears is tentative, haven't really tried one with this mouth yet."
I can't tell if he's making fun of me, or just trying to be funny.
It's going to take some time getting used to this new brand of sarcasm.
"A pleasure to meet you… Mr. Doctor." I say, and give him a little grin. I see his eyes crinkle around the edges, appreciative and somewhat relieved, before I turn towards the bedroom wing, making my way through our room... his room... to the doorway at the end of it. The doorway to my old room.
"Don't take too long getting changed, alright? No hair fluffing, no make-up applying, none of that! I've got something I want to show you!" I hear him call from the console room.
"No promises." I say, and as I pass through the doorway, it feels like entering a gateway to the past, a snapshot of something long gone and ancient.
It looks like my room still, with a few minor changes. The mirror matches the one in the Doctor's room now, all tall and arched and rather gigantic. The curved, coral supports are gone, replaced by clean-cut metal beams. The bed is still draped in those delightful orange Rownish silk sheets.
I'll sleep alone tonight, and it may be strange, and a little bit painful, but that doesn't mean I'm giving up.
This isn't a sad thing.
It just means we're trying our best. Starting at square one.
Giving 'not being miserable' our best go...
I let out a sigh, making my way to the dresser in the far corner of the room.
This is now the second time today that I've rummaged through someone else's clothes.
I find that a lot of the things in her dresser are clothes I either had in my universe or would have liked to have. I can tell she liked dresses as much as I do.
My hands grip a pair of tights and a black and red patterned dress, bringing it up to my chest in front of the mirror. I turn a few times, pondering the cut of the dress, and whether the pattern will go better with polka dotted tights or...
"Evy! I said no hair fluffing, we're wasting time!" I hear the whining voice of the Doctor, and I bite back a smile.
Impatient like a five year old, as well, I see.
There are so many things I don't know about him now. Treating him as I see him, as a stranger from a different universe, is the only way I'll be able to get through this with my sanity in tact, I think. Perhaps the only way for him, too.
"We've got a time machine, time is irrelevant!" I call back, fluffing my curls a bit.
Well, I suppose I'd better open my mind, start on getting to know him now. After all...
There's no time like the present.
