kore_logs | the Return of the Doctor

Entry tags:

the Return of the Doctor

Who: the Doctor, Mina, Donna
Where: on the docks
When: Late night of Day 82/early morning of 83
What: The Doctor returns back after his escape attempt, only he's not exactly the same Doctor Kore may remember.
Warning: language, mental instability

When a Time Lord is created, since no actual birth is given, the first sense they acquire, or at least notice, is time followed by sound, then vision. I am a sentient being. The first thought crossed the Doctor's mind, I walk through eternity.

Waves crashed against the shore, and dark eyes blink open. His vision is blurry as he pushes up on his arms, trying to push himself in a sitting position. He's aware of a string of drool, begging the question of how long had he been there with his mouth open, as he raises his hand to wipe it away. And that's when the first impulse of the most intense headache he could recall feeling strikes him. It catches him completely off guard and physically startles him, causing him to lose his balance in the process and slip off the dock into the ocean.

Engulfed by the waves, he struggles, fighting to figure out what's up from down, and shortly afterwards his respiratory bypass kicks in just in time for him to slam into the adjacent dock where he manages to pull himself up, roll over to his side and out of the way from fear of falling off again, and resigns himself for the night. His body felt heavy, mind clouded, everything slowed down as if he had been drugged, which was a very real possibility.

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The quick jerk of of his head, caused another impulse headache, go away just as fast as it came on. His eyes widened as a result, a name being at the tip of his tongue, "I'm the Doctor!" His hand reaches up, catching her wrist, and ripped it away from him.

There was a quick bout of anger in his action, until his eyes focused and realized it was Mina before him, and again he touches his face. "I'm still me." He says it like it's something of a shock.

"Calm down," she told him evenly.

She folded her hands in her lap, trying to appear contrite. Non-threatening. Hopefully, it would calm him down. And it allowed her fingers to very carefully slide over the keys of her communicator. She wasn't an expert with the thing, but she had been practicing. Hopefully, it would serve her well.

"You're in Cape Kore," she said, trying to catch his eyes, to keep his attention on her face. "You were here before. Do you remember?"

Meanwhile, she punched out a message to Donna:

Docks. Get here. NOW.

Of course, who knew what the spelling looked like?

"Some." He replied, bending himself in half, slipping both hands in his hair, as if struggling to fish through memories.

"Sarah, is she alright?" He asks quietly, "I-I shouldn't have left her; that ridiculous girl..." There was another impulse of pain, and he clenched his teeth, "No.. this is Kore... Not Skaro. No, not Skaro... Why did I think this was Skaro? It doesn't smell of it, taste of it..."

He snaps his head back up, "Mina Barrett!" He knew he recognized her as his eyes were starting to adjust in the dark.

He was positively mental.

Not for the first time, Mina found herself wondering if her mind-influencing abilities would work on a Time Lord. She didn't think they would on a normal one, let alone one who was completely mad. So what was she left with? Her delightful bedside manner, of course. The same that had gotten her unceremoniously evicted from the clinic.

And medicine that was undoubtedly antiquated, from his perspective.

Oh, this was just getting better and better.

Mina held up three fingers. "How many?" she asked him.

"Three. What does that have anything to do with anything?" He snaps his reply, before attempting to stand, but his knees quickly buckle at his weight.

There was a groan as he pressed his forehead to the wood of the dock, "What... did they drug me wiiiith? Spectrox toxemia? Radiation? What is it? What is it? What is it?" Another impulse of a headache, and again his fingers dug into his scalp, pulling at his hair.

"Teeth, tall? Brown hair? Curly hair? A bit pudgy? Blonde? White? No, hair's not to thick... Who am I? Peri? Ace? Rose... Where's Rose?" His head shoots up a look of shock, he finally grows quiet. "They're here, aren't they?" He places a finger to his lips indicating silence, "The little pitter-pattering... tiny little eight legs, although not really tiny at all, really. The crystal... That's what they wanted." He stuffs his hands in his pockets and his eyes move back to Mina's. "Empty. All gone," A pause, "THEY TOOK MY SCREWDRIVER."

She was surprised. Not by his incoherent babbling. She'd been around enough madness to be accustomed to that. But that it hurt her so much, that it ate away at her anger. That was a surprise.

"Look at me," she said, taking his face in both of her hands, trying to hold him still. "I don't know what happened to you. I don't know where you've been and I don't know how long you've been gone, from your perspective. But I will help you sort it out. If you trust me. If you come with me. Can you do that?"

Or what? What was the alternative? She didn't know. Although the idea of a pistol to the back of the head had some appeal.

His breaths were coming in pants as he struggled to keep his emotions in check, and he squeezed his eyes shut with a final nod, "Dry clothes would be nice."

He blinks dark eyes open again as he bring a hand to one of hers, curling cold fingers around her hand, "Tell me," He searches her face, "Please, just tell me... How many died? Are they all dead?" He looks past her, struggling to look at the town behind her in his moment of lucidity. "I failed, didn't I?"

And his face falters with eyes burning with tears threatening to fall. "I saw it... the TARDIS. Waiting for me, but it was all wrong. Everything was wrong. Everything... falling." He swallows hard, voice changing to something dark and robotic, "Burnt orange skies burning brightly, with fire... the screams as buildings fell and dome shattered. Fields of red grass reduced to not even ash, but giving way to waste. Royal mountains leveled to rubble, bodies of brothers and sisters staring lifelessly as their blood stained my hands. Regenerations missed. Time lost. Time... Time..." He hadn't been that candid about the Time War, ever, as it was something he'd much rather forget as the tears trailed down his cheeks.

Edited 2013-06-18 18:14 (UTC)

Damn it, where was Donna? Mina was sure she was better equipped to deal with this. Mina was not a people person. Not like this. And she found herself at a loss. She didn't know what to do.

Get him out of the wet shirt. A small voice in the back of her head whispered it.

Well. That wasn't so hard to do. She started to work the buttons on his shirt. Dry clothing wouldn't be a problem, but she was quite sure she couldn't carry or drag him to her flat by herself.

Keep him talking. The little voice was back.

"No one is dead," she told him. "Some people were hurt, but no one died."

Her reply snaps him out his memories as he scrubs at his face with his arm, despite everything being wet. "Good. Good, that's... good."

He watches her fingers work at the buttons of his shirt, through the wet fabric. "You want me to undress now?" He felt like a child, hopeless and pathetic, though defeated and numb as the cold set in his skin.

"I'm going to check your torso for injury," she said. "And it will do you no good to squish around in a wet shirt." He could wear hers, she supposed. It was cut for a man. And it was dry.

Gently, she applied some pressure to his shoulder. "Lie down, let me take a look at you. I don't want you walking around with broken ribs."

"Nothing's broken." He complies, lying on the dock with his jacket and shirt open, exposing his upper torso. "Everything's alright... physically." Or at least he thought so, but he wouldn't remember the bruising to his arms, legs, and abdomen where he must've been strapped down.

Like a science experiment. Was that what he was to them?

He had seen better days. That much was clear. But a Time Lord was remarkably durable. At least when it came to bones.

It was obvious his mind was unsound.

Carefully, moving slowly and steadily, she started to probe his torso, applying gentle pressure with the tips of her fingers. She wanted to keep him talking, because she didn't know what would happen if they lapsed into silence.

"What's this about orange skies?" she asked.

A text message from Mina? Why did that make Donna's stomach flip in the most uncomfortable of ways? Rolling over and going back to sleep definitely wasn't an option. Dragging herself from her bed, Donna quickly readied herself and headed out out meet Mina.

"Mina?!" It didn't take her eyes long to spot the Doctor, bedraggled as he looked. The squeak that escaped her was far from human.

The Doctor sat up, spotting Donna immediately. "Ah, Donna!" He motions to rise when another impulse of a headache catches him, and he retreats back, covering his face with the palms of his hands.

"Looking down the peaks of the royal mountains, the valleys and fields of Gallifrey... The skies are orange..." He struggles to answer Mina's question and he arches his back, groaning in pain.

Mina started to peel his wet shirt off, leaving it in a sopping mess on the dock. "I found him like this," she told Donna, as she began to undo the buttons on her own shirt. "I don't know what happened, but we need to get him back to my flat." Preferably before any angry villagers, still cross about the whole disaster, happened to show up.

She pulled off her shirt, draping it over the Doctor's shoulders and trying to guide his arms into the sleeves.

"Orange skies?" she asked, trying to keep her tone--with him, at least--calm and level. "Tell me more about that."

Does this place have pitchforks? Best not to put it to the test. Last thing they needed was for people to chase them because the Doctor really didn't look in any state to be running for his life. It made Donna's chest ache. She thought when she next saw him she would want to punch him in his stupid face, but the urge to punch him had quickly faded.

"Bloody hell, you don't do anything by halves, do you, Doctor?!" Getting him to safety definitely seemed the best option. Poor guy didn't look like he'd be walking far on his own two feet. Good times.

"No, never. Why would I?" He couldn't explain the headaches, they came and went as fast as they arrived, literally like impulses.

He sat up with the worst posture one could ask for, back slouched as Mina placed each arm inside the dry shirt. He was tired and worn out, and didn't remember the last time he even walked.

"I don't like oceans..." He commented, tired of significance they played in his life, like some sort of mocking symbolism.

"You've just never been on the right one," Mina replied. She loved oceans. But that was another conversation for another night.

She gestured Donna over. "Come on, then. Before someone comes to find out what all the fuss is about and spots me in my unmentionables."

To say nothing of the town's most hated bloke.

"Yeah, we can teach you to love sandcastles and surfing later, Time Boy."

Donna joined Mina and slung one of the Doctor's arms around her neck. "Flippin' heck! For a skinny streak of alien nothing you sure are a heavy lump!" After all, they were practically going to be dragging a dead weight. This was not how she had pictured her night to go.

"Not heavy... so not heavy... Not like the Zygons, bloody heavy..." He does his best to help stand up and support his own weight, but he hadn't been on his feet in days and it would be Mina and Donna shouldering most of his weight.

"Shirt and jacket, don't forget them... Don't... It's dodgy, y'know? Shirts, jackets, scarves, hats... buttons, pins, an umbrella. Ha! Fancy that? An umbrella!" He laughs like it's the funniest thing in the world, the concept of having an umbrella.

Mina slipped one arm under the Doctor's, grabbing hold of his shoulder. With the other, she swiped his rumpled and soaking clothing. "Yes, dear," she said, trying to walk the thin line between indulgent and patronizing, "umbrellas are a jolly lark."

She glanced behind his back at Donna. "Sorry for dragging you out in the middle of the night," she murmured. "I didn't know who else to trust. And he's bloody heavy."

"It's fine. Tempting as it is to drown him in the sea and be done with it." Obviously she'd never do that do him. Well, at least not for the time being.

"Yeah, yeah, Spaceman, umbrellas." Donna had seen his wardrobe, it left a lot to be desired. "Why don't you try saving your voice, eh?"

"Yes, yes... saving voice." He licked his lips, complying, and doing his best to try and walk again. It was only about every 4 or 5 steps where he was able to take one or two.

"Jim-jams, have any, Mina? 'Not bad for a man in his jim-jams' I said to Rose Tyler once. It was after regenerating... I haven't regenerated, have I, Donna? Am I ginger yet? No this one... I'm still me... two hearts..." He groans in frustration, "I told her I was different. Two hearts! Not a fluke on the x-ray! She didn't listen. DIDN'T LISTEN. Strapped down, drugged. I was different. I was different... I was different."

He inhaled sharply, holding his breath as another headache tore through his skull. Lucky for the other two, they weren't far from Mina's.

"I'm sure we can find something," she said evenly, "and if not, it's good for the circulation to sleep in the buff."

She'd just made that up.

Again, she glanced behind his head, trying to catch Donna's eye. "Do you have any idea?" she asked. The silent second half of the question lingering between them. Do you have any idea what he's talking about? She could understand the bit about two hearts easily enough. And that was the second time he'd mentioned someone named Rose.

As for the rest of it...well...

His fragmented sentences seemed to make a lot more sense to Donna. At least he still had some grasp on his memories - even if his brain was a little bit scrambled. "No, you haven't regenerated, Doctor. Still not ginger. And I bet Rose enjoyed seeing you in your pjs! Was Jack there? I bet he would've liked it too!"

Because joking about Jack was easier to deal with than hearing the Doctor talk about being strapped down and drugged. "We'll fix you up, good as new. Tea, cake and a good sleep. That's what you need."

the Return of the Doctor

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