So this fic takes place in the aftermath of the book "The Drosten's Curse", or as I like to call it "the Fourth Doctor character study that A. L. Kennedy realized at the last minute needed to be put together into a coherent story and decided to just have the Doctor have e really bad fucking day".
The plot is a mess, but it's very clearly meant to be a Fourth Doctor analysis first and a story second, which makes the storyline being super weak excusable.
I'd recommend that you read it since it's very good.
Anyway, Death Was A Temporary Inconvenience is basically a place to slap for me to put fluff, hurt/comfort one-shots, and to establish more information about Marion's Whole Deal. So here you go.
Back in June or July, one of you noticed a Detail that I had put a year prior.
This is elaborating on said detail.
Part of the reason I wanted to have this oneshot collection is that some of the concepts I had in my notebook were stuff involved Marion and the Doctor being close in a way that I wasn't sure Celery had reached a point where it would make sense? But these little one-shots can take place in whatever vague timeline I want.
Marion wasn't woken up naturally nor by a nightmare. It felt more like a soft alarm. The nice kind that waited for you to be awake in between REM cycles so you didn't wake up with murder on your mind.
Marion groggily opened her eyes and stretched.
"Honey?" She asked, rolling out of bed. She grabbed her bra from where she had just sort of tossed it to the side when she'd gone to sleep and put it back on as she looked around.
"Honey? What's wro-"
The TARDIS's calm humming changed into a frantic "hurry hurry hurry come on hurry hurry"
"Shit! I'm going!" Marion said, rushing towards the door, "Seriously, what's wrong?"
The TARDIS didn't answer outside of a strong hum that felt like "GO GO GO GO GO"
The outside of her room had changed to just a short corridor with a right turn and as soon as she crossed it, she came across a door that she vaguely remembered seeing once. It was a metallic grey.
The TARDIS's humming grew louder and louder until Marion was just at the door and then stopped it.
Well, stopping wasn't exactly it. The air hummed and she felt like she was being stared at.
Marion went to knock on the door. But then she heard the Doctor's voice on the other end. She couldn't make out a word, but he sounded panicked. She heard another choked yell and she shoved open the door.
"Doctor? Are you- oh. Oh no."
It should be noted that when Marion landed on the TARDIS, she had a long day and she was tired. She had just been running around UNIT and doing a lot of paperwork and talking to people that Three couldn't be bothered to do. Just, generally busy work that Three and Liz were too busy with other important science stuff to do. She didn't mind doing it. It gave her a good opportunity to UNIT people, and knowing that it was in fact getting done kept the Brigaider from getting any more grey than he already was.
It was just tiring. She just needed a nap and her focus on needing a nap made it tricky for her to focus on other things the way that she normally would have.
But even outside of that, she couldn't have known that something was off at the time. She felt like she should have. It all made sense in hindsight, but there was no way for her to have connected the dots when she first arrived.
Again, the fact that she couldn't have known wouldn't stop her from blaming herself but it's important to know that she did the best she could with the information that she had.
Sure, the Doctor had jumped when she'd appeared in the console room, well, that could be explained by her appearing right behind him out of nowhere. It had happened before.
If the first thing he did when he saw her was ask her questions about an adventure they had been on together, well, if he wanted to reminisce about old times, that was fine. And when he asked her about something that hadn't happened for her yet, that was just him trying to assess where he was in the timeline. Valid questions. She was wearing makeup and a turtleneck, so outside of her hair, there weren't really any visible death marks.
Maybe she would've noticed if he had been quiet and subdued, but like, the manic energy Four was associated with was still there. Knowing what she knew now, it was a bit less energetic and more anxious, but that wasn't as noticeable as it would have been if the energy had been gone altogether.
Not to mention, this was Four, and judging from the console room she had landed it, she had landed it that bit of time between Sarah Jane and Leela where he didn't have any companions. He could just seem a little bit off because the TARDIS had been quiet.
The Doctor was always a bit off in that gap. He always seemed thrilled to see her, but there was a very good reason why Marion pushed for the Doctor to have companions that weren't her.
The point was that Marion figured that the Doctor was just a bit tired and acted accordingly.
While as far as Marion could tell, Time Lords, only needed an hour or two of sleep every week. Everything about him as a person made her pretty sure he was getting much less than that.
He was functional, enough, but Marion had been functional enough as an undergrad, and the less said about her sleep schedule back then, the better.
So she had told him he looked tired, because he did, and that he should maybe lie down for a bit.
She should have been surprised when instead of a tangent about not needing sleep the way humans did, he had nodded softly and mumbled about how that didn't sound like a bad idea.
Marion decided that if the Doctor was going to take a nap, then she should as well. She'd gone into her own room. Changed into sweatpants and a tank top, and sort of flopped on top of the bed and closed her eyes.
And then the TARDIS had woken her up and now she was standing in the Doctor's room in what sounded like a terrible nightmare.
Not Cool. Not Great. Not Super.
The Doctor's room was about twice the size as Marion's, the side furthest away from the door various work tables that were so covered in various sorts of supplies, half-finished creations, and various bits and bobs that she wasn't positive what color the table's surface had been.
In the other half of the room, held a bed. Next to the bed were the Doctor's boots. His coat and scarf were hung over the side of the frame. The Doctor himself looked like had just climbed into bed after removing his coat scarf and shoes. He was still wearing his dress shirt and the high-waisted pants and Marion knew what he was wearing because his sheets had been kicked off him, and he was scrunched into a ball and shaking like he was cold. But despite that, the man was sweating, and every so often, he would groan out words. Melodic and lilting. She knew that it was Gallifreyan, but far too garbled for Marion to make out any of what he was saying or if he was saying anything at all until finally, she could make out a very simple sentence.
"No. Stop. I said No. I won't. Please!"
And then the Doctor let out a strangled, terrified noise that made Marion feel just a little bit violent.
The same sort of violent she'd felt when looking at Harrison Chase or the Skithra Queen.
The sort where blood rushed into her ears so loud everything went silent and she got a third-degree burn sort of calm.
The sort where she had to hold her hands up and away from her bag, lest her hands grip on the handle of something sharp or something heavy.
"MARION!" and then in his sleep the Doctor called her name. And between that and the TARDIS suddenly buzzing under her feet so strongly that it nearly hurt, it was enough for Marion to get out of her head and actually do something other than stand there
Marion reached out a hand to him and froze. The Doctor's eyes were scrunched tight and he was sweating every so often he would cry out again. She heard her name twice, both in what she knew was English and with a lengthening of the "A" and the clipping of the "I" that told her it was Gallifryan.
Marion didn't know what she was supposed to do and it was freaking her out.
Was she supposed to let him wake up on his own and just be there when he did? Whatever he was dreaming, it was hurting him. And for all she knew, it could be something or someone actually hurting him. Four's mental shields had never been especially strong.
It-it would probably be best to wake him up then.
She sat at the edge of the bed and leaned down towards the man and spoke slowly and softly.
"Doctor? Hey Doctor Bud. Doctor. It's me, Marion. I'm right here. You're dreaming and you need to wake up."
Marion tried again.
"Doctor!"
The man rolled over. Other than that he showed no signs of hearing her.
"Ok." Marion said softly under her breath, "Plan B."
Some versions of the Doctor were touch-averse. Take Thirteen for example. She could sit next to that Doctor. She could ramble at that Doctor to fill the air. She could listen to the Doctor ramble herself. She could bring her something to eat if she suspected that it'd been a while since she'd eaten.
But Thirteen neither initiated nor offered physical touch and Marion was fine with that. Thirteen showed she cared about her in other ways.
But anyway, this was Four, nor Thirteen. And while Four wasn't the most tactile Doctor (it was impossible when Six existed). But Four was definitely in the top three.
Marion crawled into the bed, kneeled next to the Doctor, and leaned over him. She lightly pressed her hand to the side of his face. His face felt cool to the touch. Cooler than normal at least. She wasn't sure if that was good or bad.
At her touch, the Doctor's expression softened. The tension left his face. He wasn't awake yet but didn't sound like he was in pain either. He had gone silent.
"C'mon," Marion said softly. She lightly thumbed his cheek. "wake up bud. You're in the TARDIS. You're with me. Whatever you're dreaming about isn't happening. I promise. You're with me. And you're safe." Marion wanted to say
"I won't let you get hurt if you're with me" but that would be a lie. It wouldn't be an intentional lie. But it would be a lie nonetheless.
"Doctor, it's-"
The Doctor's eye flung open. He looked around frantically as if he wasn't sure where he was. Until he focused on Marion's face.
"There you are," Marion said. "C'mon."
Marion relaxed her hand ready to move it when the Doctor's hand quickly moved from where it had been wrapped around his midsection and held onto her wrist.
Not tight, and even inside the TARDIS, she was pretty sure that she could tear her hand back easily. It was more like he was trying to make sure that it was there than anything.
"Doctor? Marion asked.
His thumb rested against her pulse point. He was looking at her, but his eyes weren't as focused as they knew they could be.
"Doctor?" Marion said again, "Doctor, bud, you're in your room. Honey told me that you were- that something was-"
"Marion?"
"Yes?"
"You're Marion. Really. You Are Marion. My best friend? Marion?"
Marion wasn't sure why the Doctor needed this kind of reassurance but the fact that he needed it was more than enough reason to give it.
"Yes. I'm me. It's Marion. Are you feeling alright? You sounded like you were having a nightmare."
"I-" the Doctor's breathing slowed. The tone of his voice steadied, and she might've thought he was relaxed if it weren't for how much his 'calm' expression mirrored her own.
"You know the Associate told me about this fantastic cinnamon roll recipe."
It was a fairly transparent deflection. But as someone who regularly used incredibly transparent deflections, she knew how it went. When you didn't want to talk about it, but you didn't want to be alone either. The Doctor would talk about it when he was ready. In the meantime, if he didn't want to talk about it, then she wasn't going to force him to.
So Marion pretended that the change in subject hadn't come out of nowhere. "The ones I used to help make at the cafe?"
"Yes! Exactly! Quite right." The Doctor was already getting out of bed. He only let go of her wrist long enough to be holding her hand instead. "I'm starving, do you think we have the ingredients to make them?"
"Doctor, are you okay?"
"Marion, do you still remember the recipe off the top of your head?"
That was both not an answer and absolutely an answer. But Marion knew better than to press deeper.
"Sure," Marion said. "Let's make some cinnamon rolls."
Marion knew that the Doctor would talk when he wanted to talk. And if he decided that he didn't want to talk, well, it would be hypocritical of her to try to push him to do it. The two of them didn't really talk much in the kitchen. They just sort of wordlessly moved around each other. The Doctor passed her ingredients after she had so much as glanced at them and Marion slid a bowl towards him that he'd been reaching for.
The Doctor didn't speak again until the dough had been put into the fridge to chill and Marion had started to work on the icing. She had intended to wait for him to talk. But then she realized that unlike what happened pretty much every other time he caught her mixing something sweet, she realized that the Doctor hadn't tried to sneak a spoonful.
Marion turned to look at him and found him just staring at her warily. Like he was waiting for her do to something terrifying and was bracing himself for it.
Marion stared back at him for a moment.
"Doc, You good?"
The Doctor's posture relaxed slightly. "Promise me that you're real."
Oh, that sounded like a no. And also bad. That sounded really bad.
The Doctor was no stranger to nightmares. Neither was Marion. Neither was anyone else who'd spent more than a trip or two in the TARDIS. No one had been lucky enough to travel more than a trip or two in the TARDIS without experiencing something fucked up.
But Marion knew that even though it could be just as strong, nightmares about something that had happened recently hit a bit differently than old stuff.
Whatever the Doctor was thinking about was new.
Marion stopped in the middle of mixing the butter, cinnamon, and sugar and stared at the Doctor.
"Yes. I promise."
She hummed thoughtfully ensuring that he knew she was listening.
"When it's life or death, and you don't have a choice. It's easy being brave. Because what else can you do? But still feeling brave when you get your choice back. It's so much harder."
Marion took a deep breath and set down her bowl.
"Do you want to talk about what happened just before I arrived?" Marion asked. She knew that there was a chance that asking would result in either a "No" or him talking about someone or something else. Like how she'd asked him if he was okay in his room and then he changed the subject to cinnamon rolls of all things.
The fact that she knew that because she'd done the same thing several times when she'd shakily woken up and flinched away from the dark and hummed nonsense to herself because she couldn't stand the silence when she was alone and when she was with someone, she talked and talked and talked about anything and everything but what she had dreamt about. Didn't need to be said.
But. She knew, and maybe she was projecting a bit.
She knew that someone demanding you talk about what you didn't want to talk about felt worse.
The Doctor started to speak and Marion listened.
"I was aiming for Chicago but I ended up in a golf resort in Scotland instead. And, I know that golf isn't your favorite thing."
"That is an understatement."
Nothing had made her happier in high school than finding out that golf was bad for the environment, thus giving Marion a moral reason to despise it outside of petty ones.
"But it was quite a beautiful resort. I thought, why not, get a couple of rooms so you and I could have a little holiday when you finally arrived? Golf's not so bad when you're just playing for fun. And the grounds were lovely, if nothing else we could go on a nice walk."
That was true, golf courses were often very nice for going on long walks.
One of the many reasons she hated golf. It took up space where public parks could be.
But also this story was starting to sound familiar. Dots were starting to connect, and she didn't particularly like the shape that was starting to form.
"What went wrong," Marion asked.
"The air smelled off. But, I thought it was just my imagination. But something bad was under the golf course. Something very bad. Something very ancient and sort of bad thing where if you had been there, you would've gotten a single look around and told me to get back in the TARDIS and get out. And the thing knew my name. And not just the Doctor."
"Oh no-"
Marion didn't know the Doctor's name. She was about 80% sure that the Doctor would tell her if she specifically asked him to, but it just didn't seem like it was her business. If he wanted to tell her, he would. If he didn't, he didn't. The only name that mattered to her was the one he was actively using. She hadn't been in the habit of snooping into the birthnames of her friends who had stopped using theirs and she wasn't going to start now.
"I caught its attention, Marion. It wanted to give me power, domain over the universe."
'Oh no' "And you said 'No', I assume."
"Of course, I said no!" The Doctor slammed a hand down. Marion didn't flinch. "But 'no' wasn't an answer it was willing to accept you see. And then it tried to convince me with your voice and your face. Because it knew that I trusted you. But the 'you' knew things that a version of you that looked like that shouldn't have known and didn't know things that you should have. And it didn't answer questions the way that you would. And so when that didn't work, it was in my head. It tried to show me things I was afraid of. Daleks and Sontarans and Cybermen and you."
"Me? I scare you?"
"You dying does," the Doctor said bluntly, "You doing something reckless that you can't just walk off. It knew what I was frightened of. And showed me those things. And when that didn't work, it did something in my head that hurt. That was the point of it, you see. It was trying to force me to change my mind. But I wouldn't, and every time I said no, it got louder and louder and it-"
The Doctor was staring right at her, but his eyes were half glazed focused. It was as if he was looking at something between them, and his breathing was quickening. Marion was pretty sure that if she put a hand to his chest, she'd hear his bypass going nuts.
"It was very powerful, you see. I knew what it was, but it wasn't supposed to be real Marion. It was the sort of thing parents scare little boys and girls with to make them behave. But it was real. And it wanted to hurt me, and but didn't want to kill me. But, it felt like I was going die. But I wouldn't. And I knew it. And that made it worse. Its power comes from perception. So the more that I was scared, the more powerful it got, and the more it hurt the more it hurt. But it was in my head and that's how it knew that I was scared of it. So, I had to convince myself that I wasn't scared, and-" the Doctor shook his head, "I got out of its realm. And we got it to stop, a woman who ran reception, and another fellow who'd just been passing through. And it's going to be okay. It wasn't evil you know, not really. It was just doing what it does. And it's not going to anymore. But-"
"But now that you're back inside of the TARDIS, there's no reason for you to push the fear away outside of the fact that you don't want to be afraid. But not wanting to be afraid isn't enough."
"Exactly. I'm in the TARDIS and that fear is coming back and I can't push it away. Because I'm still scared. I know that this is real. I know that you're real and you're here. And I'm safe. But I'm still worried that I'm not." the Doctor smiled, "Isn't that stupid."
"Not really." Marion shook her head. She ran her hands under the sink to get off the bits of flour and shook them dry. "I mean, this is real. Not fake. But like, brains do silly things when they're scared. It's normal, not stupid. Is that why you were asking me so many questions? To see if I would slip up the way the fake-me did?"
The Doctor nodded. "And when you shook me awake, I could skim the top of your mind. I didn't dig deep. I-" the Doctor seemed to remember something. "Well, there are reasons why it's not a good idea to go too deep into your mind."
"Because of spoilers?"
"And other reasons. But I know what your mind sounds like. And the copy didn't sound like you. It sounded close. But it was wrong."
"How?"
"Your mind sounds like a waterfall flowing into a river. The copy sounded like an ocean during a storm. I know that doesn't sound like much of a difference to you. But it does to me."
"I'm mean, sure I get how there could be a difference, and I'm sure that you'd know better than me. Being a touch telepath and all. " Marion said slowly. "I know that even if they're far apart, Time Lords can do that 'contact' 'contact' thing. But with non-Time Lords, it's physical touch, right? Having my hand on your cheek helped right?"
That was why Twelve wasn't big on physical contact. Not as bad as Thirteen but close. Holding was fine. Especially if he initiated it. There was a lot of ground to cover between a brain to a hand to another hand and then to another brain, the Doctor explained. But when you hug someone, your faces end up too close together which is worse than hands touching a face.
"Right."
Marion shrugged and held out her arms. "Would a hug help? So you can hear the waterfall and not the ocean." Marion froze, "If it won't then forget I asked. We can just- I can hold your face again or- OOF."
Marion wondered what it was about certain Doctors that made them want to hold her tight and quite literally lift her off her feet.
Probably the fact that it wasn't hard to do.
The Doctor put her down again. He was leaning down slightly with his chin resting on the top of her head. She could feel the Doctor's heartbeats with her ear being pressed into his chest.
"So, my mind sounds like a waterfall?" Marion asked curiously.
"A waterfall." the Doctor repeated. She could hear his voice rumbling. "Like sitting on a riverbank next to a waterfall. It's loud. But it makes everything quiet. Can't make out any particular thoughts."
"So my brain's like a white noise machine to you?"
"More or less."
"Truly brings a new meaning to the phrase 'no thoughts, head empty'"
"There's nothing empty about your head. It's very full. The noise is just because of the way your shields are. A waterfall is the best way to describe it. The waterfall makes it difficult to hear or be heard. As long as you don't try to push in any further it's nice."
"Is that why the Master doesn't even bother trying to hypnotize me."
"That's part of the reason."
Marion was quiet for a moment.
"You know, even if that thing did try to come after you again. As long as I'm here, I wouldn't let it. I'll-I'll break his legs."
The Doctor chuckled.
"No-no-no don't laugh. I mean it."
"The Bah-Sokhar is a formless eldritch abomination. I don't think that it even has legs. Let alone ones you could break."
"Doctor, you said that it changed based on one's perception of it? Right?"
"Right?"
"Well, you're my best friend. And it hurt you. And when people hurt you I look at them and I think to myself, 'Now, there's an individual with awfully breakable legs'. So I would simply look at it and be filled with just the right amount of rage and confidence to beat its ass."
Another chuckle. It was deep and rattled her skull.
"Laughter is the best medicine. Feel free to do it as much as you want. But, I'm dead serious."
"I know you are Marion. That's why I'm laughing."
And if that Bah whatever tried showing its face and tried any of what it had tried again, it was going to be seriously dead. Because now it was coming back to Marion. She remembered reading Drosten's Curse.
It had been one of the only Doctor Who books her local library had had that wasn't a comic. Its story had crossed Marion's mind once or twice as she wondered what she was going to do. It hadn't occurred to her that she might simply not be there.
"I'm sorry," she said.
"What for?"
"Wasn't there. I could've kicked his ass before he did anything."
"Marion-"
"I wasn't there. You needed help."
The Doctor hummed thoughtfully. "Well, you're helping now. You're very a grounding presence. And I'd say I need grounding right now."
Marion hugged the Doctor tighter. It was fortunate they were inside of the TARDIS. Where she could hug the Doctor as tight as she wanted for as long as she wanted without worry about bruising him. After a while, the oven timer buzzed.
"Doctor?"
"Yes, Marion?"
"I know that the cinnamon rolls were a transparent attempt at deflection-"
"It wasn't a transparent attempt at deflection."
"Doctor, I know it's transparent. Deflecting with culinary arts is my thing and you know it!"
Marion could hear the smile in the Doctor's voice, "So you admit it."
"Yeah, I didn't think I was trying to hide it. Anyway, did you still want to bake them? The dough has finished chilling. And I've mixed the filling. And you need to eat something. We could send them to the oven, and take them out, and then" Marion yawned lightly, "we can go take a nap because you really do look exhausted and I don't think that little nap you had before helped much.."
"And you'll be there right?"
Marion pulled back a bit to look at the Doctor. "Of course! I said 'we' didn't I?"
You can thank Rose aka partial-bouquet for my posting this btw. We were having a conversation and it just occurred to me that there was no reason not to finish this up and post it. So I just impulsively decided to edit the last little bit.
I think this might be the first time I've published a chapter on a day that was neither a Thursday nor a Friday.
You can thank her by reading her Attorney What series or going on her tumblr and interacting with her art.
Most of this fic has been written since like, 2020, I just added some extra details.
Most of this fic has been written since like, 2020, I just added some extra details. There might be typos, I do not think that there are, but it's past 2 am my time so some might've slipped through the cracks.
Chapter 63 will still be out on October 26th.