*Disclaimer: I own nothing but my original characters and ideas….and the plot bunnies in the corner. Please don't sue, I'm a poor college student that has no life and way too many video games.*
"I guess I just prefer to see the dark side of things. The glass is always half empty. And cracked. And I just cut my lip on it. And chipped a tooth."
-Janeane Garofalo
Need
A gentle breeze of heated wind danced across the dunes, picking up tiny particles of sand. They waltzed momentarily with the wind, looping and twirling in the air before the breeze gently lowered them back to the ground in search of new dance partners. The dunes shifted, reforming as the wind picked up and stole more of their support for its own entertainment. The breeze then lifted and died off, miles before it reached the only living things on the surface that would love to waltz with it more than the near weightless particles of what was once a great cliff. Only one of the survivors noticed this, and sighed in annoyance.
The Doctor stood alone in the shade of the once great cargo ship. After the whole gun incident, things went from bad to worse. Martin had promptly passed out…from shock, heat delirium, or pain he did not know. Most likely all three. The others had helped carry the much larger man into the ship where it was cooler, not by much, but every degree helped. That was quickly followed by a round of apologies and then names.
Okay, so that part wasn't so bad, even if the only non human in the company didn't want names. Names gave these people meaning, made them more…real. They would make him get attached, and then they would just take off without a by-your-leave. After introductions, he distanced himself. He didn't want to know them, didn't want to get attached.
A whispered laugh across his mind and a gentle shove pushed him towards the group. Apparently his ship didn't care what he thought. He shoved back mentally in annoyance as he dug his red converse clad feet into the ever shifting sand. He would not mingle, no matter what his ever beloved Companion thought. He was being childish, he knew that, but that didn't change his mind. No, he was going to stay right here, in the shade, doing nothing.
Well, at least that was his plan, until the screaming started. Zack, or Zeke, the guy who had pointed the shiny pistol at him not twenty minutes ago was screaming in pain and the Doctor moved to go help him, an action so ingrained in his very being that he didn't even need to think about it. This was foiled though as a thousand screaming voices joined that of the gruff man. But theirs was a voice filled with joy and longing, not pain. A cacophony of singing words rose up from below and the Doctor was frozen as they crashed against his mind and invaded his psyche.
The music was beautiful and painful, the thousands of voices wrapped around his soul and sang to each other, sang to him. It was filled with such sorrow, such loneliness, such hunger. And the Doctor couldn't move, couldn't blink, couldn't breathe. And then just as quickly as it started, it was over. The screaming stopped, all of it. Then there was just silence, a silence so loud and deafening that it almost brought the Doctor to his knees. He knew what happened, and now he understood.
His hearts constricted and the Doctor felt the bitter tinges of guilt settle in his chest. The gruff man who had first introduced himself was dead, he could feel it. The man was no longer there, he felt a great vast emptiness where his mind used to be. And the Doctor could not even remember his name. The Time Lord swallowed the bile that threatened to rise and turned his back upon the now larger and yet smaller group that was making its way towards the downed ship.
Another consciousness brushed his accidently. It was full of such grief, such pain, such anger that the Doctor just wanted to lend her some comfort. It was the woman that was in the original group he met. She was experiencing such strong emotions that she was projecting and the Doctor was far too tired to block her out.
He needed to be alone, he needed quiet, he needed darkness. It was too bright out here, full of the living and the dead. He needed to block them out. The Doctor pictured his bed in his room on the Tardis, and how very far away it was. Biting his lip in anger at his Tardis, at the universe, at himself, he stomped off towards the ship desperately seeking somewhere alone. He retreated into the metal behemoth quickly, so he never saw the calculating blue eyes that were watching his every move, and the large unconscious man being dragged uncaringly by the group.
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It was blissfully dark where he was, and quiet. A black abyss of nothingness surrounded him that not even his unique eyes could penetrate the darkness that touched everything. There was no sound, and when he waved his arm out before him he felt nothing, not even his extremities. A sniff deduced no scent and an inhalation through an open mouth tasted nothing.
He should have felt panicked with all of his senses off line, but he didn't. There was something out there just beyond the abyss, or maybe it was the abyss. Whatever it was, it was ancient, uncaring, and broken. Riddick made to move forward, further into the darkness, but the abyss shifted with him. He wasn't quite sure if he even moved at all, but he tried again, pushing forward. This time he was rewarded for his efforts.
A gentle question, more of a feeling surrounded him. The curiosity wasn't his and that was when he recognized this feeling. It was similar to the female that had eased into his mind like a cold trickle of water, but this one was different. It was clearly male, and instead of the gentle flow of a river, this one was a blazing inferno of unforgiving fire, a twisting typhoon of high winds, the bright flashes of lightning and the loud booming of thunder.
Riddick awoke suddenly as he was expelled from the abyss that he was now sure was a powerful mind. Metal encased his wrists, spreading them away from his body and chaining him in place. He could hear the soft thuds of leather boots on the grating of what remained of the Hunter-Gratzner. Female, five foot six, 54 kilos. Seems the 'Captain' was going to pay him a visit, but at the moment the not-so escaped convict could care less. An uncommon grin spread widely across his face and an eerie chuckle rumbled from his chest. The Storm was here.
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His eyes snapped open suddenly as he gasped. Black pupils were completely blown, obscuring the dark brown irises as the Doctor pulled gulps of air into his lungs. Something stirred within him, something primal, dangerous, and long forgotten. A low rumbling growl ripped straight from his chest, reverberated around the abandoned cockpit. Hands gripped the broken and twisting metal to keep himself in place.
A consciousness had just brushed his mind, no not brushed…invaded. Just minutes before he had been enjoying the silence, the absence of everything, and he had let his mind wander as he slipped into a light meditation. He had not even been ten minutes into his calming ritual when he felt something on the edges of his psyche, just barely caressing his barriers. He ignored it.
Not many knew about the Time Lords, and almost none knew about their mental connection. It was like an intricate web that had connected his entire species together. Each person was their own spider with their own unique web, some areas stronger and thicker than others through personal relationships. The middle being family and close friends, growing in distance and thinning the further it went out.
The spider could walk upon the web, accessing thoughts and memories of others if the connection was strong enough. The web could be used for communication or a simple brush of emotions when needed. But after the incident with the Master and Rassilon, the Doctor once again found himself a spider with no web.
After the first destruction of his people, the Doctor had done something only the leader of their people ever needed to do: he built a mental barrier to protect his mind. He placed his spider in a box so another web could never be built, because it hurt so very much. But after a while, he let his spider loose, and a tentative web was being formed. The Tardis in the middle with Rose.
After the strings of his flower were cut, he filled them with other people, other strings. But it wasn't the same and they didn't fit quite right. His web was tangled, twisted, malformed, and missing in many places, but it was there. To have it yet again ripped from him leaving nothing behind but deep groves that cut into his mind as it was slowly torn from him was torture.
The scarring would never go away and this time he was determined to keep his spider boxed away from the universe itself. And so he ignored the presence that touched his. Too bad the universe just didn't care. He never felt a thing as the other invaded his mind. The presence seemed to literally dissolve into his psyche, not pushing past his barriers, but melting though them.
Once upon a time he would have answered such questing with anger or even shock. But now he just didn't seem to care all that much. Let the being take what it wanted and leave him in peace, or pieces. He just didn't care anymore.
After a while though, when the questing other did nothing, curiosity was the emotion he settled on as he went to investigate what had so easily ninja'd its way into his mind. A probing question to his beloved ship was answered with gentle laughter and so he searched for the other on his own.
The entity seemed to have bypassed his thoughts and memories and was just floating in the abyss of his consciousness. How polite of it. The Doctor was slightly grateful, he wasn't sure if he could handle his memories being dredged up from the recesses of his mind, but that didn't mean he appreciated the presence.
A gentle probe of an emotion, a question, layered curiosity. What answered the Time Lord had the Doctor almost seizing as his body trembled. The mind was pure primal need. It wasn't all that evolved or advanced, but it was fascinating. Never before had he felt anything quite so animal and so very human.
A choked gasp escaped his lips as he pushed his forehead against the still heated metal trying desperately to ground himself. So easily could he be lost in the mind of the other, and the Doctor wasn't quite sure if that was a bad thing. The other made his hearts pound and his blood sing like none other before and it scared him.
It was too much, and the Doctor quickly, but gently, pushed the other out of his mind. The other went willingly and for that the Doctor was pleased. If the other entity had decided to stay the Time Lord wasn't quite sure if he had enough power to force him out. And he was positive now that the other was male.
Head still pressed forcefully against the metal, eyes once again clenched tightly shut, the Doctor took deep calming breathes. He could hear his hearts beating an unsteady tempo loudly in his ears and the Doctor braced his palms on the metal before him as he hung his head. He needed to calm down and review what happened with an unbiased rational mind. But first he needed to distance himself from the experience.
Opening his eyes slowly, a whine of disbelief was torn from him. He was hard. Dear Rassilon, what is happening to me? He could visibly see a tent forming in his trousers, pushing against the coarse material. He couldn't remember the last time he had actually gotten an erection, had it been a couple dozen years…not since that dream about Rose. Half a century maybe. He wasn't even aware he could still get hard.
Still staring in disbelief, he tried to wrap his mind around it. A shifting in his position though quickly drew his attention away from the unbelievable-ness of the situation and back to his problem. Another sound was torn unwillingly from him, this time a groan of pleasure and need as the fabric of his trousers rubbed against his aching need. Maybe it was a bad idea to forgo underwear today.
The Doctor bit his lip savagely to pull his mind away from the pleasure, but that only made the situation worse as the pain seemed to have the opposite effect that he intended. His cock twitched in interest and the Time Lord quickly released the abused and now bleeding lip as he desperately seized control of his emotions and feelings. He was an evolved being for Rassilon sakes. This should not have been a problem for him.
Eyes staring fixedly upon the floor, vision slightly blurred, deep cleansing breathes moving his chest at a steady tempo, the Doctor forced his body to obey him. Slowly, his erection started to die just as the temptation to solve the problem in a far more satisfying way almost overcame him.
Never before had his body been so difficult. Not even when his hormones were running rampant as a teenager. He couldn't understand how anyone could have such power over him, and the Doctor most definitely did not like it. Or so he told himself repeatedly as his erection finally died and he went in search of the one who made his nerves tremble in anticipation.
They were going to have a nice long chat about invading other peoples' minds (hypocritical much?) and then the Doctor was going to put as much space between them as inhumanly possible until this whole thing blew over. Too bad things never went to plan with him.