kore_logs | 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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"Yes, Donna." He replied, rather annoyed, and not from her mothering, but everyone so shocked that for once in his life, he was willing to regenerate. In truth, he was terrified of regenerating; he didn't want to go, but knew he was dying due to the prophecy stating so. But that was for another time.

He changed into the clothes Mina found, which were a little big on him, and sat on the edge of the bed. Hopefully he'll be granted sleep. The Doctor would do anything to stop these headaches and the inability to grasp on reality.

Mina pulled back the covers on one side of the bed. It was Anna's room so, of course, they were the finest sheets in the household. Nothing would ever be good enough for the princess. And it struck her a little odd that she still thought of it as Anna's room when Anna was so very far away. But life was full of peculiarities like that.

She reached out to touch the back of the Doctor's hand. "It's going to be all right," she told him, shrugging off the thought of losing yet one more friend in this place. "We're going to make it so."

Donna suddenly felt very much like a third wheel. It was a little uncomfortable. Scrap that. It was very uncomfortable.

"Do you guys want me to leave and give you some privacy? I'll make sure I'm back before dawn and you can always call me if things get too much..."

"No..." It was unclear to whether he was replying to Donna or talking to himself as he rested elbows on knees and slid fingers back in his hair, tugging at the strands. "I choked her... A trick, a trap. It was uncertain which... Which one was it? Which one was it? She didn't even know what a Peri was! Foolish girl..." He remained muttering to himself sitting there. "The Master was right, monkeys, all of them..."

He finally glanced back to Donna and Mina, "Leave. Me. ALONE."

It was tempting to simply tell Donna she could hit him. And Mina did shoot her a bit of a look that said as much. But it was rare that such a solution actually solved a problem. Only in the pantomime season, which this, most assuredly, was not.

She reached out, putting her hand on his hair. He seemed utterly obsessed with it. Perhaps that was the best way to calm him down.

Or possibly rile him up further. No way of telling.

"Sleep, darling," she told him.

Don't tempt her. Really, don't. Punching the Doctor in the face was beginning to really, really inviting. Knocking him unconscious with her fist was looking so tempting. And at least he would get some rest.

"Can I get you anything, Mina?" Maybe leaving Mina alone with a crazed Time Lord wasn't so wise after all.

He did calm at Mina's touch, slouching his back further as he released a shaky breath as if he was desperately trying to calm his mind and not rightly panic. His fingers ceased to dig into his scalp, but remained entangled in the short locks of his hair.

And slowly, his hands fell, grasping at the sheets at his sides as he felt the material under his fingertips. And finally with a nod, he slipped his feet under the sheets. "Name... What's in a name...

Old Abram Brown is dead and gone,
You'll never see him more;
He used to wear a long brown coat
That buttoned down before.

Funny how time works; dead and gone... She said he'll knock for times. Will the song end then?" He lies back as fingers played at the buttons of his shirt, vaguely wondering if he could sleep.

"Songs never end," she said, keeping her hand on his head. "They just change."

Had she read that somewhere? Mina couldn't really remember. It certainly didn't sound like anything she would pull out of the air. She wasn't poetic by nature. When she commanded attention, it was by being boisterous or funny. All her poetry consisted of stolen snatches. Like the big words she used. Not really hers. Just something borrowed.

Still. It sounded good.

She beckoned Donna over with a nod of her head. "Donna and I are going to stay right here with you," she told him. "You trust us, right? You know neither of us would let anything happen to you?"

"Exactly. We'll keep you safe. We took down the Daleks, we can handle a few faceless Powers That Be, no problem. They try anything and I'll punch them into next week. So you just rest and try and get some sleep."

She sat herself down on the edge of the bed and took one of the Doctor's hands in hers, giving it a light squeeze. "No songs are going to end." Hadn't the Ood said something about the Doctor's song coming to a end? Why did the words make her stomach sink?

He nodded silently, and surprisingly after a few minutes, managed to fall asleep. Throughout the night, his mind jumped and flashed to so many thoughts and memories, it was never consistent. He couldn't possibly figure out what he looked like, and he had a series of dreams where he ran and searched for mirrors, but the reflections changed so that each face looking back was different, even with a blink of an eye.

He dreamed of the Time War, reopening old wounds, and went as far as finding old lifeless companions flayed open like fish on the ground, or half their bodies missing. And that's when his headaches kicked in full force, waking him up in a panic. With his head pressed to the bed, and bent in half on all fours, his fingers grasped at sheets as tears flowed freely from squeezed shut eyes. He was gone, completely lost in his madness as the pain ripped through his skull, down his spine, out his fingertips.

When he decided he could no longer withstand the agony, there was a golden glow starting at his hands, like steam pouring off his skin. He could feel the DNA being ripped apart in his cells, confused at the pausing of replication and coding and as the new proteins taking over, changing...

And then the pain ceased all of a sudden, and he passed back out into unconsciousness until morning. When he woke and remembered where he was, he knew the only person who could possibly help him would be the Master. He had to find him.

Edited 2013-06-24 03:37 (UTC)

the Return of the Doctor

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