AliMoseby (alimoseby) wrote,
AliMoseby
alimoseby

  • Location:
  • Mood:
  • Music:

Light the Fire

I don't know where this one came from.  But here it is.  For some reason it demanded to be written.

It's set at the end of Journey's End.  I may not have gotten events in quite the right order.

I made up the Gallifreyan words at the end.

As always, I don't own Ten, Donna, or Doctor Who.  The BBC does.  Please read and enjoy...








It begins shortly after Rose is sent to serve her exile in the parallel universe.  It’s a niggling pain in the back of her head that increases slowly at first, while she, the Doctor, and the Duplicate Doctor are piloting the TARDIS back to their universe, and closing the gaps.  The pain begins to lance it’s way across her forehead by the time she’s talking about Feldspoon, mountains that move, and Charlie Chaplin.  She notices the repetition of her words, and seeing the Doctors’ faces, she knows they notice as well.  Flashes of the Doctor’s mind go through possible solutions, because she knows if nothing’s done she’s going to die. 

      The pain passes migraine strength and she starts to see things through a gold blur.  She remembers Gramps talking of cataracts and how his sight diminished with those before he got corrective surgery, and she reckons it might have been like this.  Without the gold tint though.  She can hear the Doctors arguing over what should be done and she hears the panic in the Time Lord Doctor’s voice.  She swears she hears him say he loves her.  Not best mate kind of love, but romantic love.  If she could see straight, and was capable of coherent speech, she’d scoff at that.  She must have been hearing things.  Yes.  That’s it.  She was hearing things.  There’s a dull roar that’s been steadily getting louder.  That’s why she heard wrong.  He didn’t, couldn’t love her that way. 

      The Doctors’ voices get dimmer as the roar gets louder.  She’s pretty sure she’s dying now, because images of her life are passing before her and they say when you die, your life flashes before your eyes.  Oddly some of these images are of a place with red grass, an orange sky, trees with silver leaves, and an enormous glass like globe with buildings inside.  Somewhere something tells her those aren’t her memories.  “If it was in his head, it’s in yours,” this inner voice says.  She finds among his memories, and thoughts that he does love her that way.  And she finds she loves him too.  But it’s too late.

      More images of her own life pass, and the roar gets even louder as the pain seems to hit a crushing crescendo filled with a heat she knows is internal though she can’t make sense of why.  Very very dimly, she registers her body is on the grating of the console room, and she must stand up.  She must.  It’s imperative that she stand up.  The heat grows more and more intense, the excruciating pain that started in her head has now consumed her whole body.   And over the roar she hears voices.  One is shouting, the other might be crying.  She can’t tell.  “I love you, Doctor,” she thinks.  “Goodbye.

Then sight, sound, touch, everything externally sensed is suddenly gone, replaced by an extreme sense of urgency and impending action.  She finds her muscles and bones are acting almost of their own accord, and pushing her upright. The feeling of burning is all she knows now.  Hotter and hotter until it ignites.

And the fire consumes her.

~*~*~*~*~

It’s quiet.  A velvety darkness is all she’s aware of.  It’s cool too.  There’s no pain.  There is just nothing but darkness, coolness, and thought.  There would have to be thought or else how would she be aware of anything.  Slowly other senses begin to return.  Distant voices growing ever louder (is that Gramps?).  Hands (she thinks they’re hands anyhow) touching her…arms?  Yes.  Hands.  She can feel the fingers.  Arms, yes.  She can feel that’s what they are.  Other parts of her body make themselves known as she attempts movement, not sure if she’s successful yet.  Legs, feet, hands, fingers, heart beating quite rapidly…wait…not beating rapidly.  Two different beats.  Two hearts.  Wizard. 

Memories begin to assert themselves next, after she catalogues all her biological functions.  From her childhood, to her recent past to the events leading up to what happened, which her new larger capacity Time Lady brain is telling her was regeneration.  The Earth gone missing.  The trip to the Shadow Proclamation, Medusa Cascade, finding Earth, Rose’s return, the Doctor’s half regeneration, the Dalek ship, being locked in the TARDIS, touching the hand, the Duplicate’s creation, her becoming the DoctorDonna, Creation being saved.  The memories keep coming in faster and faster.  She feels her body tensing as the memories become flashes, her eyes snap open, and she sits up. 

There are two people in there with her.  One is her Gramps (so she had heard him earlier), and the other is the Duplicate Doctor.  The Time Lord is nowhere to be found.  They rush to support her as her body as the newly regenerated musculature and skeletal system are still slightly out of whack and she’s sort of falling sideways off what she now recognizes is her bed in her room on the TARDIS.  She holds on to them weakly, giving both a kiss on their cheeks, but what she really wants is the Doctor.  The Time Lord Doctor.  She wants to tell him she loves him.  She wants to hear him say he loves her.  She knows she can’t feel like she’s home until that happens. 

And then he’s there.  She feels her Gramps and the Duplicate Doctor (as soon as everything calms down, she swears the Duplicate is going to get a real name) move aside and the Time Lord fold her in his arms.  She feels him press his face into her neck, and she feels his tears.  She holds him to her as tightly as her current state allows and they rock together.  He leans back, frames her face with his hands and with a gentleness she always knew he possessed, kisses her lips sweetly and chastely.  Then she’s folded back up in his arms and they’re rocking again.  She hears him whispering words softly over and over into her hair.  Her newfound knowledge tells her it’s Gallifreyan.  She listens again. 

Ishnari eiy. Ishnari eiy.” My beloved


She’s home.
Tags: doctor who, donna noble, fiction, pg-13, ten ii, tenth doctor
Subscribe
  • Post a new comment

    Error

    Anonymous comments are disabled in this journal

    default userpic

    Your reply will be screened

    Your IP address will be recorded 

  • 17 comments