AN: This is almost certainly the only (and I do mean only) Doctor Who fanfiction I will ever post. Now that that's out of the way, this takes place near the end of Midnight-so belated spoilers. (Like it matters…but we were all new to the fandom once.) OH! Fun fact-a couple of years ago, they discovered a planet that appears to be encrusted with diamonds. Pleasant dreams.
He can hear himself copying…the thing…but it sounds as though his voice-and everyone else's-is coming from miles underwater. It's cold, so cold, and he can't breathe, can barely think, can only…wait.
Wait and listen to the suggestions that they throw him out of the car, out onto the burning, uninhabitable surface. There'll be no regenerating there, Doctor, just five seconds of unbearable agony and then…whatever comes next. Blackness. Cold. Death.
So cold…
He tries to say something, anything, but his voice refuses to work. Invisible claws close none-too-gently around his neck.
Cold and dark…what d'you think it'll be like, Doctor, when you are no more?
He tries to summon the mental energy to insist that they're just scared, they won't really throw him out, but is swiftly cut off by the invading consciousness.
So much faith in them…will you still have that faith, even as they open the door and fling you from the safety of the compartment? Will you?
They won't, they're just frightened, they don't really want blood on their hands…why is he being picked up?
First it'll be you, then the girl, then…oh, perhaps the child. Doesn't that sound fun?
Rose.
"…his voice!"
The hostess' voice cuts through the water, although the jerky movement does not stop.
"She's stealing his voice!"
Ah, the voice of reason…but not enough…they've stopped. They've stopped and oh no…
The invisible claws are yanked away as the door opens. He can breathe again but he can't quite move, not enough to stop her. There's a hideous, primeval shriek and then there's nothing, nothing save the sound of his own heavy breathing.
A voice-his own voice, his for keeps-reaches his ears.
"It's gone, it's gone, it's gone…"
But so is the hostess. What was her name? He can't think. He can't think of anything at all right now.
"It's gone."
THE END