Album Concepts - Anything: Bif Naked
Set back when they first met, when her Doctor was in a coma. Based on roleplay from Relative Space.
Standing in the doorway, Donna couldn’t step forward. She knew she needed to. Deep down she wanted to but each time was becoming too much. Every time she touched his cheek, still slack and yet the same. Reinette assured her that was what mattered, that he was the same and hadn’t regenerated. Donna tried focusing on that but when she didn’t have that face to look upon, she wasn’t sure how to concentrate.
When she was alone in the TARDIS it was almost harder. Wondering if he was changing, if she was losing him in those moments she wasn’t with him. She’d pace, trying to avoid his room, trying to avoid the console room, finding herself more often than not in the kitchen which they so rarely used. It was one of the few places in the TARDIS that didn’t remind her of him.
Yet the entire TARDIS did just that, reminding her of what she couldn’t have, wasn’t part of. She was traveling with him, part of his TARDIS, she was a companion yet an outsider in more ways than she wanted.
Pushing away from the wall, she allowed herself that moment of not being an outsider. It was only in these times that she felt herself being something she wasn’t. Staring down at his handsome features, she knew the Doctor would argue with her if she said she felt like an outsider. She knew he would tell her that she traveled with him, she was a companion and she’d saved his life. That was the man he was, even if he called her and her kind apes. He didn’t just take her in because she had nowhere to go. He took her in because he wanted her there.
Lightly her fingers skimmed over his arm, tracing down to his fingers as she took a seat beside him. Her touch was tender as her fingers twined with his, clutching his hand between both of hers. This was when it was hard, when she could feel her heart twisting, feel herself needing this with him. Wanting more of his touch, to see his eyes light up when they looked at her; light up like they did when he spoke of Rose. This wasn’t hers to have and yet she wanted it more than anything in her whole life.
Any who saw them would realize the depth of her feelings. The way she bent her head over his hand, the tightness with which she kept her eyes closed. The utter silence from a woman who’d been known to yell loud enough they could hear her in London. She never said a word though she sat there for nearly half the day.
Only when he back began to ache and her eyes felt like sand did she make herself rise, squeezing his hand one last time before letting go. She walked away before pausing, looking back over her shoulder.
“Oi! Wake your ass up,’ she hollered, all the need and sadness she felt poured out in those words. She waited, watching as if she expected him to wake up. When he didn’t, she turned and left, returning to her own TARDIS for another night of pacing and trying so very hard not to think.
Standing in the doorway, Donna couldn’t step forward. She knew she needed to. Deep down she wanted to but each time was becoming too much. Every time she touched his cheek, still slack and yet the same. Reinette assured her that was what mattered, that he was the same and hadn’t regenerated. Donna tried focusing on that but when she didn’t have that face to look upon, she wasn’t sure how to concentrate.
When she was alone in the TARDIS it was almost harder. Wondering if he was changing, if she was losing him in those moments she wasn’t with him. She’d pace, trying to avoid his room, trying to avoid the console room, finding herself more often than not in the kitchen which they so rarely used. It was one of the few places in the TARDIS that didn’t remind her of him.
Yet the entire TARDIS did just that, reminding her of what she couldn’t have, wasn’t part of. She was traveling with him, part of his TARDIS, she was a companion yet an outsider in more ways than she wanted.
Pushing away from the wall, she allowed herself that moment of not being an outsider. It was only in these times that she felt herself being something she wasn’t. Staring down at his handsome features, she knew the Doctor would argue with her if she said she felt like an outsider. She knew he would tell her that she traveled with him, she was a companion and she’d saved his life. That was the man he was, even if he called her and her kind apes. He didn’t just take her in because she had nowhere to go. He took her in because he wanted her there.
Lightly her fingers skimmed over his arm, tracing down to his fingers as she took a seat beside him. Her touch was tender as her fingers twined with his, clutching his hand between both of hers. This was when it was hard, when she could feel her heart twisting, feel herself needing this with him. Wanting more of his touch, to see his eyes light up when they looked at her; light up like they did when he spoke of Rose. This wasn’t hers to have and yet she wanted it more than anything in her whole life.
Any who saw them would realize the depth of her feelings. The way she bent her head over his hand, the tightness with which she kept her eyes closed. The utter silence from a woman who’d been known to yell loud enough they could hear her in London. She never said a word though she sat there for nearly half the day.
Only when he back began to ache and her eyes felt like sand did she make herself rise, squeezing his hand one last time before letting go. She walked away before pausing, looking back over her shoulder.
“Oi! Wake your ass up,’ she hollered, all the need and sadness she felt poured out in those words. She waited, watching as if she expected him to wake up. When he didn’t, she turned and left, returning to her own TARDIS for another night of pacing and trying so very hard not to think.