Through a glass darkly...
The Doctor was avoiding me.
"I don't think you want me here, do you?" I said softly. "I get it," I tried to focus on the figure in front of me, not on my own clenched gut, "you can't separate the messenger from the message." What I was going to say next actually made me smile thinly, "That's actually surprisingly human." The Doctor scowled, staring fixedly at the floor, I sighed, perhaps this wasn't going to work, "I'd normally say 'Welcome to the human race', but in this case, maybe 'Welcome to samsara."
"Samsara? The condition of suffering of all non-enlightened sentient beings?" He rolled the r, sounding slightly outraged,
"For want of a better term." I half shrugged, trying to sound neutral, trying to stay neutral, the Doctor glowered, "Maybe I'm a bad reminder, maybe you don't like company, either way.."
A human would react one of three ways to having this nasty emotional thing dumped in their laps: anger- actually pain; avoidance (silence); or..
"Do you want to go?" Deflection. Making it my problem again. Dirty move.
"How the hell do I decide that?" Whacking great flaw in your thinking, Doctor, come on, you sidestep worse than a human, you be honest with me about what you want!
"Well, perhaps you should decide what you want..." Bastard! Like this is my problem! The Doctor was not expecting what happened next..
"BLOODY HUMANS!" I could not contain myself, "ARE YOU SO RETARDED YOU CANNOT RECOGNISE YOUR OWN EMOTIONS, YOUR OWN MOTIVES? YOU'RE THE ONE," I poked a finger at him, "WHO'S MAKING MY LIFE UNBEARABLE BY MAKING ME FEEL UNWANTED, WHY DON'T YOU GROW THE HELL UP AND ADMIT THIS IS YOUR BLOODY PROBLEM, NOT MINE!" All at top volume, of course.
The Doctor actually rocked back in the face of this blast, "That's the second time you've called me human." He sounded a bit stunned.
"IT WAS NOT A BLOODY COMPLEMENT!"
"Ahh." He fiddled with the handle of his umbrella, seemingly trying to avoid my gaze, "Er, what is it you want?" He sounded confused,
"Honesty. About what you feel, what you want. Because, much as you may like to think, you're not hiding it well, and it is affecting me." The Doctor at least looked comprehending at this, he also looked ashamed,
"It's true." He muttered, "I resented you." He twirled the umbrella handle, watching me over the top of it, "But there was a bigger problem." He rolled the r ominously, "I wasn't sure if I could trust you." I gaped at him,
"You looked in my head!"
"But!" He said emphatically, "There were...anomalies." He finished heavily, giving me a long stare,
Anomalies? He thinks there still are..
"They haven't gone away." He said warningly, leaning forward, "Who sent you through time and space to wind up on Ryanax at the feet of my future self?"
Yes, how does a hypersonic manipulator create a wormhole?
"You suspect a guiding hand."
"Yes." He growled, "But," he poked me in the collarbone with a forefinger, "I can't sense identity or malignity, they've shielded themselves well- whoever they are, all I can sense is...ambivalence."
I didn't know what the hell to make of that.
It was some time before I realised he'd used 'trust' in the past tense.