Hello boys, girls and other extra-terrestrials (you know who you are). Welcome to the fifth chapter of Love or Death. I'n not gonna bore you with details, lets just say that I'M lucky I managed to get this chapter out (only a month after the last update, belive me, with the way my life is going, it's a record).
First of all, I want to say thanks to Dreamcatcher49, Kenshin13, A Who down in Whovilleand Potterlover12. You guys ROCK! Thanks so much for you reviews and your supports.
Also, don't get me wrong, but this chapter is dedicated to Potterlover12, just today I read his reply to the MM I sent out in last chapter and I have to admit, it was THE biggest ego boost I had ever felt in my life. Thanks so much, I really, really, really appreciate your words. However, believe me, there was a time when my writing as well would have hurt to read. You should just see my rough drafts from when I was 11-12 years old. They would make you WEEP... Funny how far a person can come in just six short years, yeah? Also, this was written in response to your MM. For a month, inspiration wouldn't strike, I read your MM and BAM, my plot bunnies/muses come running back. Then again, my Literature proffesor always says that if all the writers in this world wait for inspiration to strike, no one would EVER write ANYTHING, so...
On another note, just the other day, I was reading this book from Susan Robinson, not quite sure what it was called and it had a Mr. Tennant in it. Nearly no one called him by his name and even if they did, I can't remember it. Point it, isn't it just weird that every time I read 'Mr. Tennant', my mind flew to David Tennant. I mean the guy was BLOND and had BLUE eyes. Geesh, talk about a fan-girl crush.
Not quite sure I like this chapter, sort of went out of hand after word one. One of the reasons why I'm so late even if the chapter was done like ages ago was that Chibi!Doctor and Chibi!River that currently reside in my head didn't like what they read and made me press the delete button, THEN made me write the chapter anew. Sorry if you don't think it was any good. And when you get to the end, don't pull out your pitchforks/broomsticks/revolvers/tomatoes and other belonging members of the vegetables group, we still have a while to go.
OH, AND BEFORE I FORGET, I'M COMPOSING A PLAYLIST FOR THIS STORY AND I WANT THIS TO BE YOUR CHALLENGE FOR NEXT CHAPTER. SENT ME A PM WITH A SONG THAT YOU LIKE AND THINK IT FITS. IT DOESN'T HAVE TO BE CHARACTER-CENTRAL, JUST AS LONG AS IT FITS WITH CANNON (NOT REALLY THO, SINCE FROM 13 SONGS I HAVE ALREADY, 9 ARE DOCTOR/ROSE CENTRIC) AND/OR THE STORY. THOSE OF YOU WHO SEND ME A SONG WILL GET AN MM FROM NEXT CHAPTER AND A CHAPTER DEDICATION.
All things that have even a remote link to techo-bable in this chapter are invented (well, most of them) if I got anything wrong, feel free to tell me. BTW, the MM from last chapter picks up after the end of this one, with a slight time jump, obviously.
WITHOUT FURTHER ADO... ENJOY!
The first thing he felt upon waking up was the pain.
It was the kind of pain he could never possibly name or even remotely describe. It was nearly like trying to catch smoke with your bare hands or attempting to describe the scent of one's presence. Taking their very essence and core, the quintessence which made one who they were and bottling it for the world to feel.
All of his senses were alight and throbbing. The hurt and desperation he had no recollection of ever feeling had rooted itself in the center of his chest, in between his hearts, pulsing, aching, bleeding with a near destructive force and desolation, the only remnant of a not-quite-dream.
His head pounded and his limbs twisted and intertwined awkwardly as a faint, female voice whispered in a distant part of his brain, first begging, then pleading and finally walking away… always walking away.
He felt a shattered man and he couldn't even begin to comprehend it. It was almost like a memory, a whisper or an echo of a life not-yet-lived. A fixture he could not change, but had the potential and even more, the kinetic force necessary to turn him into a shadow wandering through the world. A simple ghost, the walking undead roaming through the realm of the living, not truly gone, but missing a vital, irreplaceable part of thy self.
And that was just the start of it.
Even with his eyelids firmly shut against the onslaught of the excruciating, bright light shimmering upon him, he could see the golden timelines dancing in front of him. Twisting, coiling, bending and retracing themselves in a nearly wild, crazed fashion as he had never witnessed before, erasing and writing and erasing yet again, over and over and over again, almost as if Time itself had gone haywire. Those magical, burning stranding and wisps of gold and purple and red and silver he used to revel and shy away from, hate and love all in the same time now caused him to flinch away, to want to run away and hide until the tide in the vast ocean of Time came to pass and never look back.
He felt them wounding around him, binding him, securing him to a chain of events he knew he could not escape, but would try his damnest to do so.
He suddenly had the strangest sensation of not being able to breathe, the whispering voice in his head growing in intensity, the soft, tender murmurs turning into raw, primal cries and screams and calls for help he could not, would not, must not respond to. Ever.
And it began to kill him. Agonizingly slow in its progress, terrifyingly quick in its purpose, it began to eat away at him from the inside. And he didn't even know why.
The burning started to spread, forcing his muscles to contract and his veins to strain against the powerful blitz of inferno coursing through him. His eyes screwed tightly shut, a rough growl of agony ripped through his mind, his lips parting open the only physical sign of his internal battle with himself
Images flashed before his closed eyelids, powerful and unremitting, searing, scorching and sizzling him as he felt each emotion behind each scene. A flash of blue, blond and white light whipped inside him as a cold, unforgiving wind threatened to carry him away into oblivion, in a realm where darkness reigned and no life or death roamed. Invariability was this realm's prerogative and he positively dreaded it. He heard a scream, then a metallic voice that sent knives down his spine along with a sharp throb. He could see it now, the white, white wall that would be his ultimate demises, the final stop for the last of the Time Lords.
And that was when he started to realize. The knowledge of these images, these memories he had yet to make was crawling just on the outsides on his brain, drifting on the outlines of his consciousness.
And then… it stopped…
A sharp gasp tore through his mouth as he propelled himself forwards, immediately regretting the action as it sent another wave of soreness and pain through his system.
"I thought I lost you for a moment there, dear." A soft, melodic voice from his right echoed in the air, carried on the undercurrents of the wind and to his ears and he winced, the lowest of low volume of the whispered confession feeling like a mauve alert siren magnified and ringing directly in his ear drums.
"Ouch." The Doctor's hand ran to his head and clutched it tightly as if it would make the headache go away.
Chancing a glance to his right, his saw River's sympathetic eyes smiling down upon him, a frown written clearly on her face and he glared at her fiercely. Weeell, as much as a man in his current state of being could, but it counted as a glare nonetheless.
"I am sorry, if it's of any worth. I didn't know that any teleporting devices, besides those that carry the Dershin's bio-signature and stamp were blocked. I woke up not too long ago as well. On that note, for your consolation, the pain will pass soon." She smiled at him, a small, nearly unnoticeable smile full of regret and apology, but the Doctor was in far too much pain to care whether he was rude or not. At least, according to some logic his muddled brain could come up with.
"Apparently, not soon enough." He growled fiercely, as he made to move from the ground.
River jumped up immediately as well, the wobbling of her legs and unsteadiness of her posture blindingly obvious, moving herself to him in a moments notice, laying a protective hand on his waist to hoist him up and stabilize him, but he just glared at her coldly, daring her to leave her arms where they were.
He watched, unfazed, as her lips formed a thin line and her eyes widened, her face gaining a sickly, ash color. Her hands dropped immediately to her sides and she lowered her head. Typically a cool, collected, 'never-letting-herself-be-fazed' type of woman, River had one weakness and one weakness alone.
And he was standing right in front of her at that very moment.
The Doctor truly didn't know what had come over him. River wasn't his enemy, in fact, she was helping him and he'd be damned if he knew what to make of his behavior towards her.
Yes, his head was still hurting and yes, it was partially her fault, but just like she said, it was already subsiding and his mind already felt much, much clearer.
It was more than that. There seemed to be an unfamiliar, unreasonable anger boiling in him, spilling over the edges and perhaps, River being the only one around him, she was the only one who could take the brunt of it. But it wasn't fair. She wasn't the one responsible for what he was feeling. In fact, he wasn't quite sure if he even had anyone to blame. There seemed to be the weirdest of sensations floating inside him, like there was something waiting, just lingering until it was noticed. But he couldn't reach it.
And as usual, per Doctor's orders, he ignored it. Pushed it even further from his mind than it already was and focused on coming up with an apology for this strange, strange woman in front him, who had done nothing wrong except being far too forwards and just slightly misinformed.
"River?" his voice was weak all of the sudden and he pondered on that for less than a second.
"I'm sorry, Doctor, I really am, I should've at least asked first." She kept her head down, and her usually level, steadfast voice seemed choked.
The Doctor gulped hard. "Nah, it's okay. As long as we're not too far away…" he trailed off before a realization fell upon him. "Where are we, by the way?"
Finally, River raised her head and shook it disbelievingly at the completely chipper voice of the Doctor and his easy, relaxed posture.
"Within the claste itself, prisoner's ward, I think. It would seem that we were being tracked and the moment the signal from the Vortex Manipulator was intercepted and we passed out, we were brought inside."
"Oh… oh…" the Doctor grinned with complete and utter happiness as something inside his mind clicked into place and bright, golden light filled him again, the presence he had missed finally claiming its rightful place once more.
Rose… she was close… oh, she was so close…
He thought he could burst from the excitement that washed through him as the feeling of peace and comfort filled his hearts and warmed his insides and suddenly, the world seemed a much, much brighter place to live in.
He would see his Rose soon… all was right with the Universe, at long last. And this time, he wasn't letting her go, ever.
"What are you grinning about?" River's inquisitive voice brought him out of his musing and he giggled at her, yes, actually giggled, it was possible for fully grown men, even those that had over nine hundred years on their résumé to giggle, before sauntering over to her and giving her his trademark, megawatt, thrilled-bordering-on-maniacal grin.
"Can't you guess?" he answered with a question of his own, a funny glint in his eyes and a mischievous expression on his face as her turned away from her and scanned their surroundings.
Standard holding cell, he concluded after a sweeping inventory of the room.
A small window high, high on the wall, not nearly big enough to make an escape even if you managed to get that high up the wall. There was no bed or table or even a mirror – shame really, he truly did like having a mirror in his prison cell, that way he could plan his escape, or his and Rose's most often and still look foxy and stylish while doing it, and the door was reinforced with what seemed to be a gamma-charged/electrical alpha pulses force field which would most definitely kill a lesser race like humans and certainly inflict serious damage upon a higher ranked one such as the Time Lords.
Thankful that at least they had allowed him, as well as River – his coat was gone however and that was a big, big mistake, one for which the Dershins would pay dearly if anything happened to it, to keep their clothes, he began digging through his pockets for his screwdriver or anything else that was even remotely sonic, already thinking through various, non-painful, easy-yet-scary punishments to dish out if anything happened to his coat… to Rose… if anything happened to his Rose.
"Doctor," River seemed to be back into her usual, easy-going, flirtatious mood and her teasing was quite obvious in her voice, "you're frowning now. What's going through the Big, big brain of the Big, big Time Lord?" She smiled at him innocently even though he could not see her face, too busy excavating every single thing he had ever put in his pockets, digging his hands in all the way up to his forearms.
"Oh, nothing much, just looking for my sonic, thinking of a way to get out, thinking of a way to get Rose out and trying to come with a well-deserved punishment if anything bad happened to my coat…" he stopped himself and shook his head, "to Rose, if anything happened to Rose, yeah, that's what I was going to say."
"Riiight," River smirked as she pushed herself from the wall and began approaching the Doctor, "I'll just pretend I'll believe that than."
When she was standing at less than a foot away from him, she raised her hands and closed her eyes.
Left inside breast pocket. Place you hand inside just about to little above your wrist, go to the left and then move a little to the right. You'll find what you need there.
Opening her eyes again, she grasped the Doctor's wrists, pulling them away and shaking her head at him smilingly before following the given instruction and quickly hitting jack pot.
Ignoring the Doctor's cry of protest, she pulled her hand out and smirked triumphantly as the object in her hand turned out to be exactly what they needed to get out of here. It wasn't as effective as the sonic screwdriver, true, but it would work for the time being.
She brought her hand to the Doctor and opened her palm. The small, rectangular object that resided there was blinking and flashing a deep, red color and making an easy, pleasant whirring sound, almost identical to the sound of the TARDIS. Identical to the sound of the Universe screeching to a halt, many have said.
"Wh-what? How did you know that was there? How did you… I didn't know that was there, River, now how could you?" he asked completely bemused and just slightly bewildered, raising hand to his hair instinctively.
Her lips may have spoken the lie, but you could see the truth in her eyes.
It was only too bad this regeneration of the Doctor wasn't very good at catching those things. "Just luck, I guess." Her face was positively beaming and her grin nearly rivaled his.
In her palm now resided a small bio-elektral dampener. Sort of had the same function of the regular bio-dampener, but instead of shielding sentient being and erasing their bio-signature, this handy, little thing served to effectively decrease an electrical field of any kind, including the one that held them here by a preset percentage by the user. However, it's only techno-design flaw was that there was no possibility of completely discharging the field – lessening the charge to zero Volts/Amperes/Heitz/Sheenings etc., so a little zing was a partial and quite possible… possibility.
The two misplaced travelers in time didn't seem to be too, too concerned by this, though. Both of them were on a mission and it was absolutely necessary for both of them to complete it.
For one of them, finding their way out of here meant that they would restore their piece of mind and a vital part of their existence, for the other, getting their entire life back.
Completely focused and dedicated to their new found mission, the unlikely couple set to enabling the handy device and measuring the electrical charge the force field holding them was emitting, whilst trying to calculate the necessary decrease of force in the circuit so that they could both get out with the most minimal injuries possible.
"How are you doing?" The Doctor seemed a bit too excited and anxious as the moment of truth approached that many times he forgot to control his voice volume, the fact that they were in a building full of armed, shoot-first-ask-later guards completely slipping from his mind.
"Doctor!" River admonished as she squatted about 10 feet from the door, trying to slowly and carefully approach it just a little closer for a successful measure. "I'm doing fine, almost there. Now stop talking, sweetie, you asked me that not two full minutes ago."
1 minute, 25 seconds and 13 nanoseconds, her mind supplied. Rolling her eyes at her own silliness, a small side-smile came to her lips as she set about her task, the Doctor's stethoscope that they had managed to dig out magnifying the sounds of the cracking noises coming of the electrical current when in contact with the dampener, trying to equate the strength of it with the best level of reduction.
Fully focused, she started when a sharp cry sound from the Doctor, losing her balance and falling forwards, straight into the bubble surrounding the doorway. Built to repel, the bubble threw her away and into the opposite wall, where she landed with a harsh thump and stars exploded behind her eyelids after her head made contact with the jagged stones.
A soothing presence immediately clouded her mind, forming a shield against the pain and making a small, nearly unconscious smile to erupt on her face as she struggled to open her eyes and crawl to the Doctor who seemed to be convulsing on the floor.
The darkness was pulling him under again, dragging him into a sea of orange skies and silver grass and scarlet mountains. His head throbbed and his hearts were pounding away at a maddening rhythm, driving him crazy, increasing the pain in his head by tenfold.
In black and white, with rips and tears, almost like he was watching a mute movie from the 1920s, a scene appeared in front of his eyes.
He landed on the hard floor roughly and quickly stood, not wanting to be at odds with whomever his attacker was, before catching himself and realizing that this was all in his mind. But who…?
And then he saw it…
Rose… His Rose, pressed up against another man, a man that was not him, her legs around his waist and him suckling her neck roughly.
A startled cry ripped through him when he realized that the… that the… the… pleasure must have been so intense for her that it caused her usual quiet hum in the back of his mind to increase in magnitude and pull him under.
He could feel it. The pleasure, the passion, the satisfaction… And he couldn't stand it. He didn't understand it and he hated it and once again, that irrational anger and rage that took over him boiled in his bloodstream.
"I went and did it again." He mused angrily, mocking his previous self's words. "Went and picked up another stupid ape." In his heart of hearts – or was it hearts of hearts, the Doctor knew it wasn't true.
Rose wasn't really at fault here. He knew that he had held the higher cards in this little game that the two of them had been playing and all along, he had been calling all the shots that would push her away from him, making the completely wrong moves.
And he couldn't change it anymore, even though he would've at a moment's notice.
Rose had apparently found an appeasing distraction during her time here and while he was not pleased with it – oh, who was he kidding – while he despised it, the only thing he could and had to make sure to do was to make sure Rose knows where both of them stand from now on – and it wouldn't really hurt for him to found out the same thing – and take her back home considering that he had given his promise to Jackie Tyler to bring Rose home, always, no matter what.
And then…
Then he would say goodbye, for good, make it as if he had never exited and walk out of her life even though he would become a ghost of a person, just an echo of the Last of the Time Lords because one of his hearts would always remain with her, forever, for as long as they both lived.
Because, truthfully… even back on Gallifrey, everyone knew that a Time Lord without their destined mate was as good as that person being dead and a simple nuisance, as well as an unnecessary part of society, for no one would truly have any real gain or benefit from such a broken, shattered, lost, dead person anymore.
In all truths, it was most probably why Rassilon and the High Council forbade any type of love ever being practiced on Gallifrey again, whether it was between mother and daughter, father and son, brothers, sister and especially lovers.
It was simply not to be done and punishable either by immediate termination or eternal banishment, depending on the decision of the Council.
Because love and pain went hand in hand and for a Time Lord, having the pain, but without the love was the same thing as committing suicide.
Unforgivable and utterly, absolutely, undeniably, extremely deadly…