We're back, everybody! This one's without commercial breaks.
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Rukia was having a hell of a day.
Being stuck with Renji was obnoxious enough. Sure, she'd known him most of her life, but he was still annoying. She gritted her teeth, climbing higher and reaching for her body.
Tossed around multiple dimensions, kicked around by a snot nosed brat, those idiots never lend a hand, and other such angry thoughts (most accompanied by violent yet satisfying images of 'those idiots') occupied her as she clambered atop the rafters of the TARDIS to reach her gigai. If you could call them rafters. Long, firm and twisting support beams, made of some strange and alien fiber. The material was quite sturdy, but felt lightly softened underneath her touch. Almost like porous wet tree bark.
To her outrage, no one else so much as lifted a finger to help her when her gigai landed in the rafters upon landing (crashing). Even Renji sped out the door, leaving her to fend for herself. Bastards, she thought, finally grasping the arm of her body and quickly slipping back into it before dropping lithely to the floor.
Only to sorely wish she could still access her zanpakuto, or at the very least, that the large cannon-device hadn't broken apart, because the moment she landed she was greeted by a rather large fist to the side by a very surprised Ryan.
This job was not worth the pay Soul Reapers get.
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A small figure dropped from the ceiling, catching Ryan by surprise. Unfortunately, his first reaction to surprise was generally 'get it out of the way,' which didn't go over very well with the slim Japanese woman that fell from the rafters. He bowled over her, knocking her away to continue forward, leaving a furious Soul Reaper behind him.
Who Ryan promptly ignored, rushing to his cousin instead. "Dear sweet Jesus, what did you do to him?" Ryan exclaimed, looking down at the battered form of Donald.
Or rather, the corpse of Donald.
"What? What? Where? Where's Donald?" Danielle said fearfully, shoving aside anyone in her way to get to him. Pushing her way through the small crowd of people at the door of the TARDIS, Danielle gasped in horror, running across the room and dropping to her knees beside Donald.
"Oh… Oh, God, Donnie," she breathed in terror. Usually so proud of his appearance, Donald's normally neat and tidy clothes were ripped and disheveled, his hair had been torn out in several places, and many cuts adorned his body. A mark across his neck revealed long, slender bruises in the shape of fingers. His chest moved not at all, and checking for a pulse resulted in finding him quite cold.
Danielle felt like a golf ball had lodged itself in her throat, and hot tears began to form in her eyes as she fought them back.
Whatever that… thing had done to Donald hadn't just hurt him; it fucked him up. The battered and broken body of her little brother was testament to that. Her baby brother, always so independent. She had sworn to protect him, as her duty as elder. Even though much of the time, it had been the other way around. It was Donald who took care of the house, Donald who took care of every bill, Donald who made sure all of her basic needs were met every single day. And she was supposed to be taking care of him. She'd never felt like such a complete and total failure in her entire life. And now, he was suffering for it.
Danielle was silent for a very long, quiet stretch, before whispering, "I was supposed to take care of him." Her head was drooped over, hair hanging limply around her head, concealing her face.
"He's not dead, you know," the Doctor said quietly, hands held behind his back.
"Bullshit!" Danielle screamed at him, her voice breaking. She managed to hold herself back from hitting him, hoping, wanting there to be some truth in his statement. It took everything she had not to collapse into tears.
"The parasite that's lodged itself inside of your brother," the Doctor explained, kneeling next to her, "is very, very bad. I thought they were extinct, really; they're called 'Thinlings,' or of the Slender-Kind. It's because once a host has been chosen, they usually reveal themselves to the host as thin copies of people, in an attempt to win their trust."
Danielle listened closely, absorbing every detail. She refused to leave Donald's side, hands clasped onto his frozen arm bef- frozen?
"When the host dies," the Doctor continued, standing straight, "is when the parasite is at its weakest. Because they latch themselves onto their host so completely, the only two ways to separate them are either by burning it to a crisp, or…"
It was then that Danielle realized that Donald's wounds, cuts, scrapes and scratches were slowly receding into themselves, silently being filled over with a filmy black liquid. A bit of it ran over her finger, and the intense burning sensation she felt as it stung her fingers caused her to lurch back.
"Total molecular deconstruction. And considering the fact that they tend to cause severe temperature drops in their hosts for periods of time in order to retain a fighting chance of regeneration, I'd say he'll be okay."
"… Okay?" Danielle grunted angrily. "Okay! He's not breathing, he's possessed by an alien parasite, and nearly killed several people and he's just okay?! If your next regeneration weren't so damned hot, I'd mangle you, myself!"
"… How do you know about Time Lord regeneration?"
"That's not important," Danielle said, waving him away. "What matters is how we can save him."
"Weren't you listening to him?" Rose Tyler said, crossing her arms. "They can't be separated. If the Doctor says it can't be done, then-"
"I dunno," Jack interrupted. "There's an awful lot Doc said was impossible. I've been to all sorts of times, and I've never even heard of a Slenderling."
"Thinling," the Doctor corrected him.
"WE'VE GOT A PROBLEM!" Ichigo yelled into the TARDIS from the living room. Renji, sticking his head out, asked "What do y- what the hell?"
Renji nearly bumped into, much to his surprise, a very large, very blue tree.
Inside the living room.
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Hope to be updating more frequently – hold on to your seats!