For angst_bingo.
Jun. 13th, 2013 11:44 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
ladyofleithianTitle: Old Ghosts
Summary: Five hallucinations and visions the man once called the Doctor has.
Prompt: Hallucinations.
Warnings: Um, semi-spoilers for "The Name of the Doctor", mentions of suicide, and my rusty writing skills.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
1. He doesn't know what it is, whether it be nostalgia or loneliness or what have you, but after Clara leaves, he starts dreaming of her more frequently. At least the happier times. The time, for example, he took her to the Sapphire Nebula -- he can still remember them standing in the TARDIS, safely shielded from the vacuum of space, all while watching the vibrant, bright blue sparkling in the bleakness of space. He can still remember her amazement, all but leaning against him in sheer astonishment, and him having to eventually lead her away from the TARDIS doors if only so she can catch her breath.
He can still remember the both of them visiting the beaches of Old Perdition, and watching the sunset. No monsters, no great conspiracies, just watching sunsets. And he remembers other things, such as that sinking Soviet submarine, visiting 1982, all these places, in both his previous incarnation and this incarnation, that he and Clara visited.
It's a horrible, irrational thing. And yet somehow, he needs it.
He needs it because if nothing else, he needs to know that at least in his mind, she is still there. Anything, at least, to drown out the horrible humming in his mind where Clara once was.
2. It's after another long day fighting off invading forces of Trenzilore that he finally manages to get to sleep. Not that he ever could, in truth. It's fairly hard to get to sleep when you've committed your fair share of atrocities. At least that's what some would say. He hates the word, in all truth. He's done the best he can, after all. He tried to end it without bloodshed; it's hardly his fault that they decided to fight him --
Faintly, however, he can swear that he can hear a voice two regenerations ago yelling at a Cyberman. You're in their homes, you've got their children! Of course they're gonna fight!
Except he is no Cyberman. He's just doing what he's always done: protecting the innocent.
I'm sure you can explain that to their families, spaceman.
It can't be. If nothing else, common sense tells him that she is a hallucination; she cannot possibly be real. He mind-wiped her two regenerations ago in the name of saving her life; she has no doubt led a better life without him. A life he knows he could never truly have. And yet Donna Noble seems so real at this moment that he swears that she is sitting right beside him.
He knows that she is no doubt a hallucination. It doesn't mean that he doesn't try to explain everything. He doesn't know if it's for her benefit, his, or both of theirs.
"I never wanted this."
What happened to you anyway? The Doctor I knew wouldn't have done this. Not the last time I checked.
"I'm not him." The man who was once the Doctor feels his voice crack as he says it. I haven't been him for a long time. He's dead. After all he's done, all his weaknesses, he deserves to be dead.
But do I myself deserve to be dead?
Somehow, he can't answer that question.
3. He can still see flashes of the Master in his mind long after the dream ends. Even as he lies awake, hearts pounding frantically, gasping as he tries to tell himself that yes, he's in his room, and yes, he's (relatively) safe, he is forced to confront a horrifying and yet somehow oddly comforting fact: the Master is still alive.
He knows how selfish it is to find comfort in it. And yet a part of him does.
Of all the enemies he's fought, the Master is the one he knows the best, if only because, in the end, they are almost the same. There is the fact that they were friends once, naturally -- he can still remember them running through the fields of red grass on Mount Perdition back before he had destroyed Gallifrey, calling to the sky. They are all but mirror images of one another, in the end. And perhaps that is the worst part of all of it.
And yet there is a part of him that is overwhelmed with an irrational sense of hope. Two regenerations ago, he had been twice unable to save the Master, and he had no doubt failed him in past regenerations also in ways large and small.
Perhaps this time, he'll find a way to save him. Perhaps, finally, he'll find a way to put things right.
Perhaps, just this once, the Master will be one of those instances where he doesn't fail horribly.
He closes his eyes, tries if only to settle back into sleep. He knows full well that he is no doubt like a captain of a sinking ship -- even as everything is crumbling around him, he tries to keep the ship afloat. Because in spite of the odds being stacked against him, he will be damned if he lets the ship sink.
4. Sometimes in his darkest moments, he can swear that he can see Rose out of the corner of his eye. He can swear that he can hear her voice, her vibrant laughter, and he can feel her sitting close to him. Almost as if he had never left her in that parallel universe at all, and she was sitting right beside him, comforting him. Placing a hand on his arm and telling him in no uncertain terms that everything would be fine and there would be no need to worry.
Everything will be all right, Doctor. I promise.
And other times, he can swear that she's chastising him, if only in her quiet Rose-like way. What's happening to you, Doctor? What are you changing into? In no uncertain terms, What on Earth happened to the man I loved?
If nothing else, sometimes the Doctor wonders if he's simply falling into insanity. Rose is in the parallel world with that half-human version of him, that sort of him-but-not-quite-him. If his psyche is slowly breaking and he's concocting scenarios where she is right there with him, perhaps that would explain a lot.
The Doctor shuts his eyes, and he dreams not necessarily of just Clara, but Rose as well. Gallifrey rebuilt, with Rose and Clara by his side, Rose as his wife, Clara as his Impossible Girl, his partner. Donna would be there too, perhaps, her memories and abilities restored, along with just about everyone who had ever died, restored to life. The Bad Wolf working her magic, making things right again. Martha and Mickey would be there too, bless them, and Jackie and Pete. And the Master. All these bright and shining people by his side, helping him lead Gallifrey and the universe in general into a new golden age.
And at least in the dream, everything is right, at least for a while.
5. He knows full well what happened the last time he decided to break the laws of time. He can remember it too clearly -- Mia and Yuri fleeing from him in fear, the anger in Adelaide's voice as she stood up to him. I don't care who you are, she had said. The Time Lord Victorious is wrong.
He can also remember the flash of blue light from inside her house, telling him in no uncertain terms what had happened. She had killed herself so that the timeline could revert to it's natural state. Changing text, flashing in front of his eyes as if broadcast right in front of him. And the shock of it, that knowledge that he had all but accomplished nothing all but bowling him over in the snow. Guilt and grief and fear and so many other emotions all but crushing him then and there. And Ood Sigma, standing before him like a harbinger of judgment.
And yet he also knows now who Madame Kovarian was. Before, he had seen her mostly as a monster. The monster who had kidnapped Melody Pond and forced her into a supersoldier if only to being about his downfall. Who had ruined Amy and Rory's lives. The woman who had caused so much grief and suffering.
He had never truly imagined that he could have inadvertently created her. That he had, through his actions, now formed the basis of the woman who committed these atrocities.
Because he had destroyed her home. He had destroyed everything she had ever had. Was this the price he had to pay for peace and sanity?
A part of him that no doubt would have sounded like his Tenth incarnation says, Does it need saying? And yet it did.
And now it was happening again. He could see it in his mind, even now -- Amy crying out in pain as Kovarian urged her to push. Kovarian, hatching the plan. And so much more. Too much more. It felt as if the past had, if nothing else, become the future.
He could swear he could hear Amy's voice in his mind, what she had said in the Dream World long after Rory had died. Save him. You save everyone.
And when he had said he couldn't, she had said, Then what is the point of you?
And if nothing else, she was right -- and worse, is still right. If he can't avert this terrible future --
No. He couldn't. It's hopeless as it has already happened and it is irrational and it is wrong. If one is to be truthful, he has done enough damage already.
But even that is exactly the problem.
He stands up now. He knows what to do. Crossing his own timestream would be risky, more than risky. It is something the TARDIS does not do, at least not often, and for good reason. It is one of the ultimate violations of the laws of time.
But to save Amy and Rory, to make things right just this once, he knows full well he would do anything.
The Doctor took a deep breath and runs towards his TARDIS, a fire blazing in him like nothing he has ever felt before because no matter what happens, he can do this. He will do this. He will find a way to make things right again.
And no power in the universe will be able to stop him.
Summary: Five hallucinations and visions the man once called the Doctor has.
Prompt: Hallucinations.
Warnings: Um, semi-spoilers for "The Name of the Doctor", mentions of suicide, and my rusty writing skills.
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
1. He doesn't know what it is, whether it be nostalgia or loneliness or what have you, but after Clara leaves, he starts dreaming of her more frequently. At least the happier times. The time, for example, he took her to the Sapphire Nebula -- he can still remember them standing in the TARDIS, safely shielded from the vacuum of space, all while watching the vibrant, bright blue sparkling in the bleakness of space. He can still remember her amazement, all but leaning against him in sheer astonishment, and him having to eventually lead her away from the TARDIS doors if only so she can catch her breath.
He can still remember the both of them visiting the beaches of Old Perdition, and watching the sunset. No monsters, no great conspiracies, just watching sunsets. And he remembers other things, such as that sinking Soviet submarine, visiting 1982, all these places, in both his previous incarnation and this incarnation, that he and Clara visited.
It's a horrible, irrational thing. And yet somehow, he needs it.
He needs it because if nothing else, he needs to know that at least in his mind, she is still there. Anything, at least, to drown out the horrible humming in his mind where Clara once was.
2. It's after another long day fighting off invading forces of Trenzilore that he finally manages to get to sleep. Not that he ever could, in truth. It's fairly hard to get to sleep when you've committed your fair share of atrocities. At least that's what some would say. He hates the word, in all truth. He's done the best he can, after all. He tried to end it without bloodshed; it's hardly his fault that they decided to fight him --
Faintly, however, he can swear that he can hear a voice two regenerations ago yelling at a Cyberman. You're in their homes, you've got their children! Of course they're gonna fight!
Except he is no Cyberman. He's just doing what he's always done: protecting the innocent.
I'm sure you can explain that to their families, spaceman.
It can't be. If nothing else, common sense tells him that she is a hallucination; she cannot possibly be real. He mind-wiped her two regenerations ago in the name of saving her life; she has no doubt led a better life without him. A life he knows he could never truly have. And yet Donna Noble seems so real at this moment that he swears that she is sitting right beside him.
He knows that she is no doubt a hallucination. It doesn't mean that he doesn't try to explain everything. He doesn't know if it's for her benefit, his, or both of theirs.
"I never wanted this."
What happened to you anyway? The Doctor I knew wouldn't have done this. Not the last time I checked.
"I'm not him." The man who was once the Doctor feels his voice crack as he says it. I haven't been him for a long time. He's dead. After all he's done, all his weaknesses, he deserves to be dead.
But do I myself deserve to be dead?
Somehow, he can't answer that question.
3. He can still see flashes of the Master in his mind long after the dream ends. Even as he lies awake, hearts pounding frantically, gasping as he tries to tell himself that yes, he's in his room, and yes, he's (relatively) safe, he is forced to confront a horrifying and yet somehow oddly comforting fact: the Master is still alive.
He knows how selfish it is to find comfort in it. And yet a part of him does.
Of all the enemies he's fought, the Master is the one he knows the best, if only because, in the end, they are almost the same. There is the fact that they were friends once, naturally -- he can still remember them running through the fields of red grass on Mount Perdition back before he had destroyed Gallifrey, calling to the sky. They are all but mirror images of one another, in the end. And perhaps that is the worst part of all of it.
And yet there is a part of him that is overwhelmed with an irrational sense of hope. Two regenerations ago, he had been twice unable to save the Master, and he had no doubt failed him in past regenerations also in ways large and small.
Perhaps this time, he'll find a way to save him. Perhaps, finally, he'll find a way to put things right.
Perhaps, just this once, the Master will be one of those instances where he doesn't fail horribly.
He closes his eyes, tries if only to settle back into sleep. He knows full well that he is no doubt like a captain of a sinking ship -- even as everything is crumbling around him, he tries to keep the ship afloat. Because in spite of the odds being stacked against him, he will be damned if he lets the ship sink.
4. Sometimes in his darkest moments, he can swear that he can see Rose out of the corner of his eye. He can swear that he can hear her voice, her vibrant laughter, and he can feel her sitting close to him. Almost as if he had never left her in that parallel universe at all, and she was sitting right beside him, comforting him. Placing a hand on his arm and telling him in no uncertain terms that everything would be fine and there would be no need to worry.
Everything will be all right, Doctor. I promise.
And other times, he can swear that she's chastising him, if only in her quiet Rose-like way. What's happening to you, Doctor? What are you changing into? In no uncertain terms, What on Earth happened to the man I loved?
If nothing else, sometimes the Doctor wonders if he's simply falling into insanity. Rose is in the parallel world with that half-human version of him, that sort of him-but-not-quite-him. If his psyche is slowly breaking and he's concocting scenarios where she is right there with him, perhaps that would explain a lot.
The Doctor shuts his eyes, and he dreams not necessarily of just Clara, but Rose as well. Gallifrey rebuilt, with Rose and Clara by his side, Rose as his wife, Clara as his Impossible Girl, his partner. Donna would be there too, perhaps, her memories and abilities restored, along with just about everyone who had ever died, restored to life. The Bad Wolf working her magic, making things right again. Martha and Mickey would be there too, bless them, and Jackie and Pete. And the Master. All these bright and shining people by his side, helping him lead Gallifrey and the universe in general into a new golden age.
And at least in the dream, everything is right, at least for a while.
5. He knows full well what happened the last time he decided to break the laws of time. He can remember it too clearly -- Mia and Yuri fleeing from him in fear, the anger in Adelaide's voice as she stood up to him. I don't care who you are, she had said. The Time Lord Victorious is wrong.
He can also remember the flash of blue light from inside her house, telling him in no uncertain terms what had happened. She had killed herself so that the timeline could revert to it's natural state. Changing text, flashing in front of his eyes as if broadcast right in front of him. And the shock of it, that knowledge that he had all but accomplished nothing all but bowling him over in the snow. Guilt and grief and fear and so many other emotions all but crushing him then and there. And Ood Sigma, standing before him like a harbinger of judgment.
And yet he also knows now who Madame Kovarian was. Before, he had seen her mostly as a monster. The monster who had kidnapped Melody Pond and forced her into a supersoldier if only to being about his downfall. Who had ruined Amy and Rory's lives. The woman who had caused so much grief and suffering.
He had never truly imagined that he could have inadvertently created her. That he had, through his actions, now formed the basis of the woman who committed these atrocities.
Because he had destroyed her home. He had destroyed everything she had ever had. Was this the price he had to pay for peace and sanity?
A part of him that no doubt would have sounded like his Tenth incarnation says, Does it need saying? And yet it did.
And now it was happening again. He could see it in his mind, even now -- Amy crying out in pain as Kovarian urged her to push. Kovarian, hatching the plan. And so much more. Too much more. It felt as if the past had, if nothing else, become the future.
He could swear he could hear Amy's voice in his mind, what she had said in the Dream World long after Rory had died. Save him. You save everyone.
And when he had said he couldn't, she had said, Then what is the point of you?
And if nothing else, she was right -- and worse, is still right. If he can't avert this terrible future --
No. He couldn't. It's hopeless as it has already happened and it is irrational and it is wrong. If one is to be truthful, he has done enough damage already.
But even that is exactly the problem.
He stands up now. He knows what to do. Crossing his own timestream would be risky, more than risky. It is something the TARDIS does not do, at least not often, and for good reason. It is one of the ultimate violations of the laws of time.
But to save Amy and Rory, to make things right just this once, he knows full well he would do anything.
The Doctor took a deep breath and runs towards his TARDIS, a fire blazing in him like nothing he has ever felt before because no matter what happens, he can do this. He will do this. He will find a way to make things right again.
And no power in the universe will be able to stop him.
