| unapologetic fangirl ( @ 2008-04-13 22:39:00 |
| Current location: | dorm |
| Current music: | "I Can't Decide", Scissor Sisters |
| Entry tags: | doctor who, fic |
Doctor Who
Doctor Who has totally consumed my life. I absolutely love Ten (far more than Nine, I must confess), and loved Rose, and loved Martha (of course, I first met her in Torchwood, where she was hyper-competent and awesome). Not sure how I feel about Donna, but maybe I'll grow to like her.
Anyway, a bit that's been in my head:
PG, post-Sound of Drums, Ten/Rose, Martha
Before the Master came - before the Toclafane - she had lots of strange dreams. Back when the TARDIS bounced from place to time to place with the Doctor grinning manically and babbling on about some bit of tech or ridiculous planet, she had dreams, and plenty of nightmares too: the Daleks rising on Earth, what the family of Blood might have done, even the mundane sort about her mum and dad having it out in front of everyone.
Then the Master took power and Martha fled to help the Doctor. Now when she sleeps, a few hours hidden in a secret cupboard or crawlspace, all she has are nightmares. Her mum and dad, Tish, Leo, Jack, the Doctor - they all die in her nightmares. But this is her favorite, her worst, the one she can't think about in daylight.
The Doctor stands, restored. She tries to run to him, laughing, for the hug she will accept in lieu of what she'd like, but a hand grips her arm and she can't move. The Master holds her, and on his other side is a girl, a blond girl he can't see. Everyone is speaking, shouting, and it takes a minute before she can make out any words.
"You could have her back, Doctor," the Master says. "I have the Paradox Machine. I could bring you your Rose, from that instant before the breach closed. Tell me how to stop Martha Jones, and you will have Rose back."
"Don't do it, Doctor," Martha tells him, but it's ridiculous, of course he'd never do that. Tear a hole in reality, allow the Master to triumph? He doesn't need her to warn him off.
He looks at her, though, and his gaze goes straight through, until he turns to stare hungrily at the blond girl that the Master holds. "I'm sorry, Martha," he says. "I am so sorry." But he's not even looking at her anymore, he's walking to the Master, to Rose, saying "I thought I'd never - I love you, Rose Tyler, I love you," and the Master looks straight at Martha, his eyes lock on hers, and he begins to laugh.
And then Martha wakes, every time, reminding herself that it won't happen, that the Doctor would never allow it. The problem, though, is that she's never quite sure what he'd do to regain Rose. In the beginning, she'd thought he might be attracted to her; later, Martha knew he cared. But Rose, she knows he loves Rose, and sometimes she thinks that all that stops the Doctor from ripping a gap in two universes is the knowledge that everyone - in both universes - would die. If not for that, he'd have done it years ago.
So when the television broadcast begins, just for a moment, the nightmare surges forward in her mind, makes her breath catch - and then she sees the Doctor aged, sees the Master's sneer, and relief pours through her as she realises that no, it won't end that way.
Before the Master came - before the Toclafane - she had lots of strange dreams. Back when the TARDIS bounced from place to time to place with the Doctor grinning manically and babbling on about some bit of tech or ridiculous planet, she had dreams, and plenty of nightmares too: the Daleks rising on Earth, what the family of Blood might have done, even the mundane sort about her mum and dad having it out in front of everyone.
Then the Master took power and Martha fled to help the Doctor. Now when she sleeps, a few hours hidden in a secret cupboard or crawlspace, all she has are nightmares. Her mum and dad, Tish, Leo, Jack, the Doctor - they all die in her nightmares. But this is her favorite, her worst, the one she can't think about in daylight.
The Doctor stands, restored. She tries to run to him, laughing, for the hug she will accept in lieu of what she'd like, but a hand grips her arm and she can't move. The Master holds her, and on his other side is a girl, a blond girl he can't see. Everyone is speaking, shouting, and it takes a minute before she can make out any words.
"You could have her back, Doctor," the Master says. "I have the Paradox Machine. I could bring you your Rose, from that instant before the breach closed. Tell me how to stop Martha Jones, and you will have Rose back."
"Don't do it, Doctor," Martha tells him, but it's ridiculous, of course he'd never do that. Tear a hole in reality, allow the Master to triumph? He doesn't need her to warn him off.
He looks at her, though, and his gaze goes straight through, until he turns to stare hungrily at the blond girl that the Master holds. "I'm sorry, Martha," he says. "I am so sorry." But he's not even looking at her anymore, he's walking to the Master, to Rose, saying "I thought I'd never - I love you, Rose Tyler, I love you," and the Master looks straight at Martha, his eyes lock on hers, and he begins to laugh.
And then Martha wakes, every time, reminding herself that it won't happen, that the Doctor would never allow it. The problem, though, is that she's never quite sure what he'd do to regain Rose. In the beginning, she'd thought he might be attracted to her; later, Martha knew he cared. But Rose, she knows he loves Rose, and sometimes she thinks that all that stops the Doctor from ripping a gap in two universes is the knowledge that everyone - in both universes - would die. If not for that, he'd have done it years ago.
So when the television broadcast begins, just for a moment, the nightmare surges forward in her mind, makes her breath catch - and then she sees the Doctor aged, sees the Master's sneer, and relief pours through her as she realises that no, it won't end that way.
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