Nobis Cum Semel Occidit Brevis Lux
Rating: PG
Summary: The Doctor stands vigil. "It's the silence that gets me. It always has been."
Disclaimer: I have no rights whatsoever to Doctor Who. Doctor Who may possibly have some rights to me. As for the Catullus, well, I'm pretty sure the coypright's expired anyway...
Notes: Dialogue-fic, lord forgive me. Hopefully I didn't screw Ten up too badly. Forgive the first-year-Latin translation... and the excessive showing off of knowledge of ancient Rome... and my newfound tendency to get plotbunnies from Latin poetry... Well, you google '"tu ne quaesieris" translation' and I won't be the only one for long...
(-)
Vivamus, mea Lesbia, atque amemus,
Rumoresque semum severiorum
Omnes unius aestimemus assis.
Soles occidere et redire possunt;
Nobis cum semel occidit brevis lux,
Nox est perpetuua una dormienda...
(-)
"Right. So you know how I said that this was Carpathia in your thirty-seventh century?"
"Yeah."
"Turns out I might've been a bit off."
"Yeah."
"It might actually be the thirty-sixth."
"That so?"
"Yes. You know how I can tell?"
"Hmm... Wouldn't have anything to do with the police raid an' terrorist bombing an hour ago, would it?"
"Yes, actually!"
"Huh. didn't even notice. Damn lucky you're here, I am."
"Yes, I am fantastically brilliant."
"...Right."
"Wasn't strictly a terrorist bombing, though."
"Bomb... killed innocent people... Which part of the definition...?"
"Part about not being done by the legitimately elected government."
"Wait... you're saying the government did this? The people who've got us locked up?"
"Yep."
"Why?"
"Dissidents."
"Gee, why would anybody not like a government that blows up dissidents?"
"Believe it or not, it totally baffles them. Horrifyingly ironic."
"Yeah-- 's horrifying, all right."
"It gets better after the revolution this sparks, really it does. Going to be a beautiful place... in a hundred years."
"Tell me something... how come you're only right about where we are when bein' right about the time'll mean there's trouble?"
"...Dumb luck?"
"Dumb something. Nine 'undred years an' you still can't figure out how to work your own spaceship?"
"Oi! It's a very complex and subtle piece of dimensionally transcendent, sentient machinery! Not something any idiot can pilot! And it's not like I got lessons, either."
"You didn't? What, did you steal it or somethin'?"
"...Well, not so much 'stole' as 'chose to utilize without explicit permission or advance warning'."
"My God. I've been travellin' around in stolen property. You've made me an accessory."
"Don't worry. No one left to prosecute. D'you have any idea how many papers they would've made me fill out?"
"Would they also have given you the owner's manual?"
"Er... possibly."
"Seems like a decent tradeoff, then."
"Well, I was in a hurry."
"Why?"
"Long story, accounts vary... Sufficeth to say, I didn't really like my planet that much. And the feeling was mutual."
"That have anything to do with you nicking one of their ships?"
"Well, partly, but it went further back than that. I still think executing me was way over the line."
"You think-- what?"
"They executed me. Oh, after a proper trial, of course. Sort of proper. Also, it depends on how you define 'execution'. After all, I was still alive after they killed me. And dumped me on Earth. And erased my companions' memories. Bastards. God, did I hate them. Less sense than a goldfish, not nearly so decorative, the whole lot of 'em. Well-- except one or two. Had a couple friends. The rest? Thick as a brick. Well... some of my friends were pretty daft themselves. Most of the others tried to kill me eventually. What?"
"...First off, your planet is weird."
"Yeah, well, your planet's the one with Michael Jackson."
"Second, I'm never gonna get used to how... talkative you've gotten."
"Will so. give it time, you'll see."
"No, I don't think I will."
"I'm not that different."
"I know. But I haven't got the time."
"You do so. You're fine. Hello! Doctor here!"
"Oh yeah? Doctor of what?"
"Oh, just about everything, really. Anyway, you'll be fine as soon as I get you back to the TARDIS."
"I don't think they're plannin' on lettin' us out of here any time soon."
"Then I'll break out like I always do. Easy as pie."
"An' you haven't done that yet because...?"
"...Astonishingly sturdy shackles."
"An' they stole your sonic screwdriver."
"Oh, and they will pay dearly for that, I assure you."
"Yeah... I figured. Just... Don't go crazy, all right?"
"I do try, but it's not the sort of thing you can control."
"You know what I mean."
"Rose, you'll be fine."
"Says Mr. 'Everything has its time and everything dies'? You have changed."
"I have not changed. I'm saying you'll be fine 'cos you'll be fine."
"...Yeah. You're right. 'Course you're right. So. What's it like, dying?"
"You still gon't believe me."
"Of course I believe you! You're always right. I was just curious. 'Cos you brought it up. And when else can I get you to cough up anything about yourself?"
"...Got a point there."
"So what's it like?"
"I couldn't tell you about the important bits. I've always missed those. I can't tell you a thing about what comes after."
"How about what comes before?"
"...That depends on how it happens."
"Go on, then."
"Well... First time around, I actually died of old age. Astonishing I managed it, really. I imagine I never will again. That wasn't too bad... 'cept I was all achy an' miserable for months. And weak, so weak... so little energy. It was hard. It didn't hurt much, but it was hard... And after it happened, I suddenly had so much energy it drove me half mad. Which was bad, 'cos I'd been a quarter mad before. Went a bit off the deep end, I'm afraid. God helped me, he picked up a recorder... though it was dead useful, sometimes. Nothing wrong with sonic. Sort of gave me the idea for my screwdriver, I suppose. Worked out all right... was still mad as a hatter, though. Never really recovered."
"Yeah, I'd wondered when that happened."
"Second time-- that was that execution I told you about. Supposed to be quick and painless. You could say it was quick. Odd definition of painless. Nothing's ever painless, particularly not death. Why are you shaking like that?"
"It's cold in here."
"No it isn't."
"Well, I'm obviously not dying, 'cos you told me I wasn't. It's clearly the flu."
"Rose--"
"No, tell me. How else?''
"I-- I don't know-- fell off a radio telescope once, that was a fun one-- the shock helped. Poisoned once-- that one got to me. I don't know why. It didn't hurt so much, except near the end-- but it was slow, and-- it's the waiting that did it, I think. The waiting, and the nausea, and the pain..."
"It got worse, near the end?"
"Well... yes and no. The pain got worse, but... you keep getting further from it, somehow. You get a bit detached. You stop caring that it hurts, stop understanding it."
"...Huh."
"And you know what happened last time--"
"No, I don't."
"You don't?"
"You never told me. Not anything but lies."
"Lies?"
"I could tell. Sang a song... hah. Best case, it's a stupid metaphor."
"No, I was lying."
"Figured that."
"I did absorb the energy of the Time Vortex, though."
"Yeah?"
"...But you're the one who made the Daleks disappear."
"What-- me? How's that?"
"You did something very, very stupid, Rose. Instead of staying safe at home where I sent you, you cracked open my TARDIS and absorbed the energy of the Time Vortex. It gave you the power to destroy the Daleks. It was going to kill you. So-- I stopped it."
"And it killed you. That's what you're saying, right? You died, because you saved me."
"I've done it before. Rose--"
"It was light... gold white light... and eternity. All that was-- all that had been-- all that ever could be-- all of it. You said that was what you saw all the time. I knew you were wrong."
"...You said you couldn't remember."
"I didn't. But... now I do."
"Why on earth would--"
"Forever. You can't touch forever for five minutes. Not if forever's touching you. She's still there."
"What?"
"She's still there. Somewhere. She was everything, everywhen, at once... so she still is. There's echoes of her, everywhere-- you see? She's in the vortex, she's in the songs I've been hearing at night..."
"Rose?"
"Don't worry about it."
"Rose?"
"You kissed me?"
"...er..."
"Why?"
"...I had to get it out of you somehow!"
"No, I mean-- why did you save me?"
"...Because if I died, I'd come back. It'd be inconvenient, and it'd hurt, but I'd live, and so would you. But you... you only get one shot at it. It... I couldn't do anything else."
"You're very sweet. Has anyone ever told you that?"
"Rose. What's happening to you?"
"You remember the explosion, don't you?"
"Rose--"
"The police-- they were killing people. There was this kid-- they looked like they were gonna kill him-- they already had me, I was yellin' at 'em to stop, an' the guys who had me hit me again. And-- I think they broke something, something inside. I think it's bleeding."
"Rose, that's bad."
"Really? Y'think?"
"Rose, talk to me. Tell me how you feel."
"My stomach hurts, an' I feel all bloated, an' I'm tired, an' it's still cold in here. And I'm not stupid. And they're not comin' back. Not in time."
"Of course they're coming back! It's been hours, now! Paperwork can't take that long, they'll be back any second."
"When you leave-- don't tell Mum right away. She'll kill you, and you might let her. So go-- somewhere else. Anywhere else. And don't go without backup. Find Jack again, maybe. Someone, anyone, just don't go alone. You're dangerous, alone. Why you never are."
"Rose! Are you listening to me?"
"What? Ne'r. Just-- stay safe, okay? Death's so little to you, when it's you, but it's important-- keep yourself safe. There's a reason. Every question you ever aksed, there's a reason-- there's something coming-- you've got to stay strong. T'stay you. She's still there... Nineteen, she's still there..."
"Rose, stay with me, Rose."
"'m so tired..."
"Rose, listen to me, all right? You're going to be fine if you just stay awake for me."
"...I'll try..."
"Right. So. Stupid cell, this is. Very traditional design. Rose, stay awake. Prisons all look alike, in the end. This reminds me of one on Earth-- ancient Rome, I believe, back in the first century BC. Got chucked in for calling Cicero a pompus windbag. He was, and everyone knew it. Very good at it, too. Y'know he once thwarted a conspiracy against the state? Had no evidence whatsoever. Bluffed 'em all into running. Damn amazing speech, it was. Made his career. Never shut up about it. Not once. Rose?"
"...Nn."
"Fun time. Oh, that's about Catullus's time. Famous Latin poet, you wouldn't've heard of him. Wrote a lot of love poetry. Had one famous poem about his brother who died-- good poem, that. Mainly he wrote smut, though. We should take Jack there someday-- he'd love him. Then again-- that's probably why we shouldn't bring him. Rose?"
"..."
"Stay awake for me, Rose. Stay awake. It only got smutty when he was angry. Had some colourful and detailed suggestions as to what his critics could go and do. Or, come and do, but let's not go into that. Then, when he got pissed off at his girlfriend-- oh, he got so angry with her. Bitter as hell. Called her all sorts of things. Used language you usually only saw in graffiti. They had graffiti back then, you know. That's nothing new. Rose? Open your eyes for me, Rose."
".."
"Right. Graffiti's not the only thing that isn't new. People back then were pretty 'flexible' too. Only your lot that got so uptight about it, really. Probably the other reason why Jack liked Pompeii. Y'know where you lot got the word 'lesbian' from? It's from an island-- Lesbos. Poet named Sappho lived there. Wrote incredible poems. Even in those days, people said she was the best in the world. Lost most of her poems to time. All you've got is other poets calling her a legend. That's the way it goes on your planet. The burning of Alexandria was one of the greatest tragedies of your history. But you still pieced together so much. Oh, it took centuries, but you relearned it... Some species never do. You were always special. Rose, open your eyes."
"..."
"Rose, you were always special."
"..."
"...Catullus. Great poet. I prefer Horace-- he's the 'carpe diem' bloke. Carpe diem, quam minimum credula postero. Or, don't put too much stock in tomorrow; it might never come. Tu ne quaesieris..."
"..."
"Horace is better. But Catullus was good. May-December romance got 'im. Woman named Clodia, I believe-- called her 'Lesbia' in his poems, referring to Sappho again. 'Cos of the good poetry, not 'cos she was a lesbian. Didn't mean that back then. As widely. She was well-off, politically, financially-- he was crazy about her, but it ended badly. Don't ask me whose fault it was; everyone had a different story. I never did figure out the truth... Probably nobody's fault... Or everyone's. Or both at once. That's usually how it goes."
"..."
"But it made for good poetry. As always. Aren't any poems about anything else. Nothing else to write about. One famous one-- Vivamus--"
"..."
"Vivamus..."
"..."
"Let us live, my Lesbia, and love... Vivamus, mea Lesbi'atqu'amemus... Rumoresque senum severiorum.. And all the rumors of uptight old men, we'll say they're worth a penny. Stars can fall and rise again..."
"..."
"Stars... they rise and set every night. You know, I think he wrote this-- not long after I met him-- I think he wrote it-- right after I met him. Stars can set and rise again, but for us, once our brief light sets, night is an eternal sleep..."
"..."
"But I know that... I've known it for years."
".."
"Why do you have to LEARN everything so many times, Rose? Why is one lesson never enough? 'Cos I learned it all, I really did. Everything dies. Sometimes we're helpless. Sometimes, senseless things happen, there's so much pain in the world, I KNOW all this! I KNOW it! Why, Rose? Why?"
"..."
"Death is such a stupid thing."
"..."
"Maybe I'll do something about it someday."
"..."
"Hah. Yeah. Sure. Another lesson I learned years ago. I can't stop anything."
"..."
"Not to mention I'm always wrong. How long are they going to leave us all down here? This is insane. What do I do when I get out of here? They'll take you somewhere... Visit your mum or not, I'll have to get you back. You wouldn't want to go back to London. You wouldn't want to go back to your time. I'll have to find somewhere... I'll have to get you back. Shouldn't complicate my escape too much. I have to get my sonic screwdriver too."
"..."
"First, I'll get out of here. Blow some things up... Don't worry. I won't go crazy. Not more than I already have. Whatever it was you were saying at the end there, I'll remember."
"..."
"She's still there, you said, nineteen... When you touch eternity, or when eternity touches you back... 'and the TARDIS looked into me'. That day. The Bad Wolf. That's what you were talking about, isn't it? She's still there... She's still there? What, in the Time Vortex? In my TARDIS? She's still there?"
"..."
"You were right-- I was thinking of it linearly. It happened, for five minutes, I fixed it, and it was gone. But the Time Vortex-- everywhen, everything-- looked into you. You could see everything... You were everywhere, and every time... and that means, maybe, you still are. She still is. You, at nineteen. And you remembered, in the end... Oh, Rose Tyler."
"..."
"How much could you see there, at the end? Of course, it could've been hallucination, but it wasn't. You saw something. What did you see?"
"..."
"...It's the silence that gets me. It always has been."
"..."
"'Cos you always go silent in the end."
"..."
"..."
(-)
