eponymous_rose (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
eponymous_rose) wrote2008-04-20 11:58 pm
eponymous_rose) wrote2008-04-20 11:58 pm
Entry tags:
Doctor Who | For Tomorrow You Might
Title: For Tomorrow You Might
Author:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
eponymous_rose
Word Count: 628
Rating: PG
Characters: Ninth Doctor, Jo Grant, Harry Sullivan, Vicki, Tegan Jovanka, Jamie McCrimmon, Ace McShane, Hex Schofield, Peri Brown, Ian Chesterton, Barbara Wright, others
Author's Note: Written mostly forhappydalek, who requested Nine with other companions, but this has been written with much of the flist in mind.
Summary: He tells himself that a memory is a life, but the drumming silence in his head only echoes stronger.
The universe is screaming in the wake of the storm he's wrought, time itself curling and writhing and clawing, whole worlds full of lives full of moments flickering like embers, dancing in their death-throes. When he finally sleeps, the Doctor dreams of ordinary things, of chipped teacups and fresh-cut grass, of songs, of music, of poems that are only words, of people who are only people, of decisions that are-
He wakes, the what-is becomes the never-was, and he turns his mind to the living. The TARDIS knows the way.
*~*~*
"You look sad," says Jo, once she's finished delighting in running her fingers through his too-short hair, childlike, tactile. "Like you did then. Trapped."
He smiles, takes her face in his shaking hands, and lowers his voice so the man in the kitchen can't hear. "So do you," he says.
*~*~*
"I'm sorry," Harry says, moving to close the door in his face, "but I categorically refuse to believe it. This is a prank."
The Doctor snorts a laugh, leaning forward so that the door won't close without taking a significant part of his nose with it. "Yeah, like I'd bother setting up something that elaborate for your benefit."
Harry blinks at that, opens the door a crack. "Doctor?"
*~*~*
Vicki pours him tea. "We're both older than we were then," she says, and doesn't quite meet his eyes.
"Funny how that works," he says, and doesn't ask if she believes in fate, now, because her world is ending as slowly and surely as any other.
*~*~*
Tegan smiles and chatters about her family, and for a time they sit on a park bench and remember the seconds, the instants imprinted indelibly, the shining moments.
Much as they laugh, the Doctor can't shake the memory of her face on the viewscreen as the TARDIS landed, the expression of cold horror.
*~*~*
It's long before the beginning, and he stands on a Scottish moor, watching a boy stroll into the deepening twilight.
"You only existed then," the Doctor murmurs, "in those instants between what came before and after."
He tells himself that a memory is a life, but the drumming silence in his head only echoes stronger.
*~*~*
Ace lights up at the sight of him, latches onto his arm, full of stories about himself that he hasn't even heard yet, his future in a string of words, and for a dizzying moment he knows what it is to be one of them, swept into an unfamiliar future.
At her side, Hex greets him with a smile and a firm handshake, but there's a distance to him, a wariness, and the Doctor wonders what adventures he's managed to miss, what damages he has done and will do.
*~*~*
"I never did find you," he tells Peri, and they laugh together, and it's very nearly right; as he leaves, she tells him the name of the flower growing in the pot on the windowsill.
He's forgotten it by the time he reaches the TARDIS.
*~*~*
"I'm not supposed to talk to strangers," John murmurs, shifting uncomfortably on his wobbling bicycle. Ian is sprinting down the street towards them, looking worried at the prospect of his son chatting to strange men, but Barbara has a smile on her face; she knows.
That evening, the three of them weave a life of bedtime stories.
*~*~*
Colder now, darker, but their fears and their victories and their love sing him to sleep, and he's changed everything one more time.
She touches his face, unfamiliar, trembling. "You burned," she says. "I was the last."
His hand is in hers. "I know the way," he says, and takes her there.
Author:
eponymous_roseWord Count: 628
Rating: PG
Characters: Ninth Doctor, Jo Grant, Harry Sullivan, Vicki, Tegan Jovanka, Jamie McCrimmon, Ace McShane, Hex Schofield, Peri Brown, Ian Chesterton, Barbara Wright, others
Author's Note: Written mostly for
happydalek, who requested Nine with other companions, but this has been written with much of the flist in mind.Summary: He tells himself that a memory is a life, but the drumming silence in his head only echoes stronger.
The universe is screaming in the wake of the storm he's wrought, time itself curling and writhing and clawing, whole worlds full of lives full of moments flickering like embers, dancing in their death-throes. When he finally sleeps, the Doctor dreams of ordinary things, of chipped teacups and fresh-cut grass, of songs, of music, of poems that are only words, of people who are only people, of decisions that are-
He wakes, the what-is becomes the never-was, and he turns his mind to the living. The TARDIS knows the way.
*~*~*
"You look sad," says Jo, once she's finished delighting in running her fingers through his too-short hair, childlike, tactile. "Like you did then. Trapped."
He smiles, takes her face in his shaking hands, and lowers his voice so the man in the kitchen can't hear. "So do you," he says.
*~*~*
"I'm sorry," Harry says, moving to close the door in his face, "but I categorically refuse to believe it. This is a prank."
The Doctor snorts a laugh, leaning forward so that the door won't close without taking a significant part of his nose with it. "Yeah, like I'd bother setting up something that elaborate for your benefit."
Harry blinks at that, opens the door a crack. "Doctor?"
*~*~*
Vicki pours him tea. "We're both older than we were then," she says, and doesn't quite meet his eyes.
"Funny how that works," he says, and doesn't ask if she believes in fate, now, because her world is ending as slowly and surely as any other.
*~*~*
Tegan smiles and chatters about her family, and for a time they sit on a park bench and remember the seconds, the instants imprinted indelibly, the shining moments.
Much as they laugh, the Doctor can't shake the memory of her face on the viewscreen as the TARDIS landed, the expression of cold horror.
*~*~*
It's long before the beginning, and he stands on a Scottish moor, watching a boy stroll into the deepening twilight.
"You only existed then," the Doctor murmurs, "in those instants between what came before and after."
He tells himself that a memory is a life, but the drumming silence in his head only echoes stronger.
*~*~*
Ace lights up at the sight of him, latches onto his arm, full of stories about himself that he hasn't even heard yet, his future in a string of words, and for a dizzying moment he knows what it is to be one of them, swept into an unfamiliar future.
At her side, Hex greets him with a smile and a firm handshake, but there's a distance to him, a wariness, and the Doctor wonders what adventures he's managed to miss, what damages he has done and will do.
*~*~*
"I never did find you," he tells Peri, and they laugh together, and it's very nearly right; as he leaves, she tells him the name of the flower growing in the pot on the windowsill.
He's forgotten it by the time he reaches the TARDIS.
*~*~*
"I'm not supposed to talk to strangers," John murmurs, shifting uncomfortably on his wobbling bicycle. Ian is sprinting down the street towards them, looking worried at the prospect of his son chatting to strange men, but Barbara has a smile on her face; she knows.
That evening, the three of them weave a life of bedtime stories.
*~*~*
Colder now, darker, but their fears and their victories and their love sing him to sleep, and he's changed everything one more time.
She touches his face, unfamiliar, trembling. "You burned," she says. "I was the last."
His hand is in hers. "I know the way," he says, and takes her there.
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This fic made me a bit teary...
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Sorry - distracted by the gorgeous guy !
Yes it was a bit glum...
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It's definitely gankable, so long as you credit
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(And I just wanted to say an extra-special thank you, because you always leave such nice reviews for me. So, er, thanks again!)
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*hugs Jamie tightly*
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I am working on filling in my gaps in the Second Doctor's canon (and believe me, your gorgeous artwork has been inspiring me to do so), but they're still significant enough that I am wary when writing fanfic. Should be over that stage shortly, I hope! ;)
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"You look sad," says Jo, once she's finished delighting in running her fingers through his too-short hair, childlike, tactile. "Like you did then. Trapped."
He smiles, takes her face in his shaking hands, and lowers his voice so the man in the kitchen can't hear. "So do you," he says.
Oh, that's brilliant; everything that needs to be said about Jo post-Doctor in 50 or 60 words.
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(Can I ask about the ending, though? I'm not 100% sure I got it. Romana, or...?)
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(Can I ask about the ending, though? I'm not 100% sure I got it. Romana, or...?)
Going for ambiguity, there, so I guess I succeeded. ;) Probably Romana, though, yes, and whether or not that makes this AU is a bit beyond me.
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*glee*
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[Have I mentioned how glad I am that you are one of the many/few that write convincingly for all eras?]
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This makes me want to write Nine. :)
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*must watch moar Classic Who*