Always Running
There it was, that metallic whirring: so familiar, even after months, maybe years, since she'd last heard it in person. Her memories failed to do it justice, or it might be that her excitement was just making everything lighter and better. In the horizon, she spotted the gradual apparition of that coveted blue box. The differences between the dull colours of a vacuous street and the bright blue ship were palpable. All around them, cars were dispelled in great disarray, their owners having been forced out of them by merciless, metal beings.
She stood there inertly, a sudden wave of apprehension and trepidation overwhelming her entirely. What if she wasn't wanted anymore? Maybe he'd forgotten her, or he didn't really need her help or presence.
Her cold and clammy hands seemed, to her, fused to her gun. She had it held so she could swiftly shoot any tin beings that threatened her. The gun strap travelled behind her neck and to the gun, making sure that, if she were to let it go, it wouldn't fall, but only give her slight neck ache from the weight of the metal.
The door opened and two distinct figures stepped out. One of them, the young man, captured her undivided attention, bringing to surface buried feelings. He wore a pinstripe suit, dark brown with narrow blue lines, a pair of well worn out converse and a long, light brown coat. His companion was a female redhead she knew, but she ignored her figure, not for a lack of caring, but for a lack of interest.
For a minute, she was caught up in a memory, one of her and him. Apple grass, New Earth and a new face. Their first adventure with a new him. It had been so long ago, to her, and they appeared to look the same, yet their eyes said differently. Gone had the happiness, and now a everlasting sadness and nostalgia overcame them at the thought of one another.
She woke from her reminiscing, and saw how his companion had seen her. With a sly smile, the redhead muttered a few words to him and, without answering her, he turned 'round and he was hooked. His face displayed, even from her position so far from them, a variety of emotions; disbelief, shock, joy, disbelief and even more joy. Her gun was discarded, tossed to the ground after she hurriedly pulled off the strap, and she started running as fast as she could, counting down the meters until they met.
Every step, they got closer. Every second, the distance between the two became smaller, and smaller. He could see her face, one he dreamt of and one he missed dearly. Her brown eyes seemed older, yet never did they look happier. She could see his face, one she had practically etched into her mind, never forgotten. His own brown eyes seemed older too, but they also had anguish, and love. They'd changed so much since they'd last met, yet they were the same, equal. They were so close to being together, at last, after so long, after so much grief.
Then, a beam of light appeared, heading for him. He couldn't do anything to stop it, neither could she, nor the redhead. The green sped to him, catching him unguarded, for once, and hitting him straight on. She caught him as he fell; they were just a few meters apart. Somewhere behind them, a friend materialised, one of their old friends, and blasted the creature that shot the beam.
The new addition looked slightly rough, as if he had been running too much, and his black hair was well kept. His black eyes looked at the blonde girl in concern, both for her and the man she held tightly in her arms. Running up to them, he offered a hand as the two of them carried the dying brunet to the box. The redhead, it seemed, had opened the two doors and was now ushering the trio in, lest any other machine from hell make an appearance.
The dark haired man pulled the blonde off her lover once they'd entered the ship. He tried, at least, and succeeded in keeping her away from him as he started glowing. "You know what's going to happen," he reminded her, trying not to cry at all. The redhead was crying, scared and asking what was happening, she was new to this process and none of the three other time travellers graced her with a response.
All too soon, the light started glowing brighter, enveloping the brunet as he threw his head back and his arms out and silently screamed. The light flowed out like fire, burning him and repairing him, before readying to change his face and his body, all while the black haired man held the sobbing blonde, and explained what was happening to the distraught redhead.
However, the three were left speechless when they saw how the man was moving, albeit slowly, his arms and somehow sending the fire to his preserved hand. The fire consuming his head was deteriorating, and it was soon gone, sent to the jarred, cut off hand. The fire in his hands soon disappeared, and both he and the hand ceased glowing.
"Hello again."
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Yay! So, this came up to me at around 3am yesterday (because today is already Saturday 9th here) and I decided to post it. So maybe Rose did run with her gun, and there wasn't really any dialogue, and I can't remember what the Doctor had said, I still like it. I didn't use any names, so I hope I didn't make it too confusing, what with the 'blonde' and 'brunet' and the 'him' and 'her' and all that. (I think, for guys, it's 'brunet', or is it 'brunette'?)
Just in case I hadn't made myself clear, Donna is the redhead, Rose is the blonde, the Doctor is the brown haired one, and Jack is the black haired guy. If you didn't know that – shame! Joking!
Obviously, this scene is the last from The Stolen Earth and the first from Journey's End, two of my favourite episodes (well apart from the ending of the latter), the final two-part episode from series 4.