FIC: Some Grand Adventure [Doctor Who]
Title: Some Grand Adventure
Author: atraphoenix
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Barbara Wright, Ian Chesterton, Susan Foreman and the First Doctor
Rating: G
Summary: Most heroes are just ordinary people who find themselves in extraordinary situations, doing the very best they can.
Author's Note: Written for chicafrom3 as part of the classicdw_fic ficathon.
They’d saved the world today. It was becoming almost commonplace.
If asked, Barbara would admit that she enjoyed being a hero, but, in the same breath, she’d add that ‘hero’ probably wasn’t the right word. Some people - people like the Doctor - are born to do remarkable things, but most so-called heroes are just ordinary people who find themselves in extraordinary situations, doing the very best they can.
Barbara had never thought that she would be one of them. She’d never been the sort of person to spend her life staring up at the stars, searching for some grand adventure. In fact, when she first found herself caught up in the Doctor’s wild life, all Barbara had wanted was to return home. She had longed to be back in a time and place where the soil felt familiar beneath her feet, and the sky above her head held no terrible secrets, even if she’d never really appreciated those things before.
Eventually, however, things changed. She changed. The universe, which had once seemed so small and so safe, was suddenly vast and unimaginable, and Barbara Wright, history teacher and purely logical being, was swallowed up by the enormity of it all.
The person left behind called herself Barbara, and even looked like Barbara, but it wasn’t her. Not really.
She was surprised to find how little she cared. There was never time to mourn her old self’s passing, and Ian seemed rather fond of the person she’d become. There was no point in clinging to something that could never be recovered.
***
They’d saved the world today. Barbara wasn’t smiling.
You couldn’t celebrate when there were always so many people that you didn’t manage to save, and one of the casualties - a most unexpected casualty - was standing right outside the TARDIS.
“Grandfather!” Susan exclaimed, tearful and terrified, and Barbara’s eyes were drawn momentarily to the Doctor. He was staring fixedly at the screen, and Barbara was rather glad she couldn’t see his face. His expression would only reveal something she didn’t want to acknowledge.
“Listen, Susan, please,” he said, in a painfully matter-of-fact voice. “I’ve double locked the doors, you can’t get in. Now move back, child, where I can see you.”
Susan obeyed him, eyes as wide as saucers. She was clearly unable comprehend what was happening, and Barbara longed to rush out of the TARDIS to comfort her. She looked so lost, dwarfed by the world she’d found herself thrown into. Although Barbara had been able to pretend nothing was wrong when she felt that way, Susan clearly wasn’t as adept at hiding her emotions.
Silently, Barbara slipped her hand into Ian’s.
“During all the years I’ve been taking care of you, you in return have been taking care of me …” began the Doctor, but Susan cut across him, frantically.
“Grandfather, I belong with you!”
“Not any longer, Susan,” he barked. There was no real emotion in his voice. He simply wouldn’t allow it. He believed he had to be strong, for Susan, and Barbara knew that the Doctor would do whatever was necessary to keep up the pretence.
“You’re still my grandchild, and always will be,” he said, his voice low, and bitterly hard, “But now you’re a woman too. I want you to belong somewhere. To have roots of your own.”
As much as he loved her, that was something the Doctor could never provide. What sort of grandfather couldn’t give his only relative a home that didn’t move every other day, and a life that wouldn’t leave her constantly at risk?
Even if it broke his own heart, the Doctor was determined to do what he thought was best for Susan.
The poor man. He would face down Daleks and stand up to the Sensorites, but he still had so much to learn about how people worked.
As the TARDIS began to dematerialise, Barbara squeezed Ian’s hand a little tighter. He didn’t speak, but she knew he understood, and that was more than enough.
***
They’d saved the world today. It was a rather hollow victory.
The Doctor’s grief, once he allowed it to flow, was terrifying and all-consuming. He seemed to have forgotten that Ian and Barbara were even in the TARDIS. Eventually it would be safe to return to the Doctor’s side - provided they didn’t mention Susan - but until then they decided it was best to leave him to mourn.
Barbara, who hadn’t even been able to grieve for her self, certainly wasn’t able to grieve for Susan. Instead, she remembered. She lay in the darkness of her room and recalled all their conversations and all their adventures. The way Susan had spoken and laughed and smiled. The way she had lived. The way she would live.
Worryingly, the thoughts that ran through her head sounded a lot like a eulogy, even though she didn’t doubt that Susan would be perfectly happy with David. After all, her naivety would be her greatest strength. Susan would be able to see the world with new eyes - ones which were not influenced by her grandfather’s view of the universe. She would be able to be her own person, and lead her own life…
Yes. Susan would be just fine. She had to be. Barbara didn’t dare think otherwise. The idea of the wide and vicious universe swallowing up Susan Foreman as easily as it had swallowed up Barbara Wright was too terrible to contemplate.
In the end, when her memories had been recycled so many times that her head was beginning to spin, the former teacher swung herself out of bed and made her way towards the console room. There was a slim chance that the Doctor’s desire for isolation had already passed, and anything was better than just sitting here.
As she made her way down the corridor, she could hear the sound of Ian tossing and turning in his own bed. But, as much as she wanted to go to him, it was the Doctor who needed her at the moment.
When she reached the console, she found him slumped in an armchair. He looked older than ever before. Defeated.
“Ah, Barbara, my dear,” he said, looking up at her with tired eyes, “We’ll be arriving soon, I’ll let you know when we do …”
She wondered if he was even aware what he was saying. His mind was clearly elsewhere, and his body longed to follow it.
“How are you, Doctor?” she asked, gently, and the Doctor didn’t even bother answering.
Barbara knew what he wanted. He wanted her to reassure him, to tell him that he’d done the right thing when he left Susan behind. But she couldn’t because, despite her earlier attempts to convince herself, she just didn’t know. Susan had seen so much, but she was still so terribly young.
“We couldn’t stay for the wedding,” said the Doctor, “She would never have stayed if we’d given her a chance to leave.”
That was true, so Barbara nodded, and pulled up an armchair beside him, ready to listen, and comfort as best she could, whenever he decided to speak again.
“There will be no one to give the bride away,” he said eventually, a few minutes later.
“Oh no,” said Barbara quickly, “They all liked Susan, I’m sure there will be plenty of people who she can choose from. Tyler, perhaps. And I’m sure Jenny will help her organise everything …”
“But it won’t be me,” the Doctor protested, “She should have family there.”
“David will be her family soon,” Barbara said, and she was relieved to see that his expression was changed very suddenly. He looked almost relieved.
“Yes. She loves him, doesn’t she?” he asked. “I have never experienced love, but I believe it is very important.”
Barbara’s eyes widened, and she inwardly chastised herself for being so astonished. Very few people really understood love, whatever their species, and even fewer actually found it. She didn’t, and hadn’t. Her childhood boyfriend - followed by an even briefer fling during her university years - certainly didn’t count.
But there was Ian …
“You look tired, Barbara,” said the Doctor, disturbing her from her reverie. She decided it was easier to nod rather than protest, even if she felt more distracted than tired now. It was probably best if the Doctor didn’t know her current train of thought.
“Will you be alright, Doctor?” she asked, rising from her chair, “I probably should get back to bed.”
“I’ll be fine, my dear,” he said, almost laughing, “I am always fine.”
She didn’t believe him, but there was nothing she could do now he no longer wanted her help. The four of them had been travelling together for months, but Barbara was well aware of the fact that they didn’t know their pilot at all. And probably never would. She doubted that the Doctor would ever let anyone in this universe - human or otherwise - get that close to him.
Perhaps she and Ian would return home, one day. And then the Doctor would be left travelling the universe alone. Always alone. How could he bear it?
“Will you really go back, one day?” she asked. In the stillness of the TARDIS at this time of night, it was easy to ask questions she wouldn’t normally dare to ask. It could all be forgotten by tomorrow, if necessary.
The Doctor laughed a little. “Even a Time Lord cannot make a promise like that, Barbara. Even we cannot tell what the future will hold.”
A Time Lord. What a fitting title. Terrible, and proud, and majestic.
“I … I’ve always wanted to ask,” she said, turning back to face him for a moment, “Who exactly is Susan’s grandmother?” Hadn’t he love her, at least?
“Ah, that’s the problem with travelling in time, you see, my dear,” the Doctor said with a rueful smile, “I haven’t met her yet.”
She nodded, and found herself smiling back. So he wouldn’t be alone forever, then. He’d find her - whoever she was - sooner or later, and Barbara just hoped that, when he did, she actually deserved him.
***
When Barbara reached her bedroom door, she didn’t enter immediately. They’d saved the world today, she thought, but even that didn’t matter anymore. What mattered now was tomorrow.
She turned on her heel and moved back down the corridor, towards the room where Ian was still lying awake.
Tomorrow mattered. Tomorrow, and the next grand adventure …
What happened after that was up to them.
Author: atraphoenix
Fandom: Doctor Who
Characters: Barbara Wright, Ian Chesterton, Susan Foreman and the First Doctor
Rating: G
Summary: Most heroes are just ordinary people who find themselves in extraordinary situations, doing the very best they can.
Author's Note: Written for chicafrom3 as part of the classicdw_fic ficathon.
They’d saved the world today. It was becoming almost commonplace.
If asked, Barbara would admit that she enjoyed being a hero, but, in the same breath, she’d add that ‘hero’ probably wasn’t the right word. Some people - people like the Doctor - are born to do remarkable things, but most so-called heroes are just ordinary people who find themselves in extraordinary situations, doing the very best they can.
Barbara had never thought that she would be one of them. She’d never been the sort of person to spend her life staring up at the stars, searching for some grand adventure. In fact, when she first found herself caught up in the Doctor’s wild life, all Barbara had wanted was to return home. She had longed to be back in a time and place where the soil felt familiar beneath her feet, and the sky above her head held no terrible secrets, even if she’d never really appreciated those things before.
Eventually, however, things changed. She changed. The universe, which had once seemed so small and so safe, was suddenly vast and unimaginable, and Barbara Wright, history teacher and purely logical being, was swallowed up by the enormity of it all.
The person left behind called herself Barbara, and even looked like Barbara, but it wasn’t her. Not really.
She was surprised to find how little she cared. There was never time to mourn her old self’s passing, and Ian seemed rather fond of the person she’d become. There was no point in clinging to something that could never be recovered.
***
They’d saved the world today. Barbara wasn’t smiling.
You couldn’t celebrate when there were always so many people that you didn’t manage to save, and one of the casualties - a most unexpected casualty - was standing right outside the TARDIS.
“Grandfather!” Susan exclaimed, tearful and terrified, and Barbara’s eyes were drawn momentarily to the Doctor. He was staring fixedly at the screen, and Barbara was rather glad she couldn’t see his face. His expression would only reveal something she didn’t want to acknowledge.
“Listen, Susan, please,” he said, in a painfully matter-of-fact voice. “I’ve double locked the doors, you can’t get in. Now move back, child, where I can see you.”
Susan obeyed him, eyes as wide as saucers. She was clearly unable comprehend what was happening, and Barbara longed to rush out of the TARDIS to comfort her. She looked so lost, dwarfed by the world she’d found herself thrown into. Although Barbara had been able to pretend nothing was wrong when she felt that way, Susan clearly wasn’t as adept at hiding her emotions.
Silently, Barbara slipped her hand into Ian’s.
“During all the years I’ve been taking care of you, you in return have been taking care of me …” began the Doctor, but Susan cut across him, frantically.
“Grandfather, I belong with you!”
“Not any longer, Susan,” he barked. There was no real emotion in his voice. He simply wouldn’t allow it. He believed he had to be strong, for Susan, and Barbara knew that the Doctor would do whatever was necessary to keep up the pretence.
“You’re still my grandchild, and always will be,” he said, his voice low, and bitterly hard, “But now you’re a woman too. I want you to belong somewhere. To have roots of your own.”
As much as he loved her, that was something the Doctor could never provide. What sort of grandfather couldn’t give his only relative a home that didn’t move every other day, and a life that wouldn’t leave her constantly at risk?
Even if it broke his own heart, the Doctor was determined to do what he thought was best for Susan.
The poor man. He would face down Daleks and stand up to the Sensorites, but he still had so much to learn about how people worked.
As the TARDIS began to dematerialise, Barbara squeezed Ian’s hand a little tighter. He didn’t speak, but she knew he understood, and that was more than enough.
***
They’d saved the world today. It was a rather hollow victory.
The Doctor’s grief, once he allowed it to flow, was terrifying and all-consuming. He seemed to have forgotten that Ian and Barbara were even in the TARDIS. Eventually it would be safe to return to the Doctor’s side - provided they didn’t mention Susan - but until then they decided it was best to leave him to mourn.
Barbara, who hadn’t even been able to grieve for her self, certainly wasn’t able to grieve for Susan. Instead, she remembered. She lay in the darkness of her room and recalled all their conversations and all their adventures. The way Susan had spoken and laughed and smiled. The way she had lived. The way she would live.
Worryingly, the thoughts that ran through her head sounded a lot like a eulogy, even though she didn’t doubt that Susan would be perfectly happy with David. After all, her naivety would be her greatest strength. Susan would be able to see the world with new eyes - ones which were not influenced by her grandfather’s view of the universe. She would be able to be her own person, and lead her own life…
Yes. Susan would be just fine. She had to be. Barbara didn’t dare think otherwise. The idea of the wide and vicious universe swallowing up Susan Foreman as easily as it had swallowed up Barbara Wright was too terrible to contemplate.
In the end, when her memories had been recycled so many times that her head was beginning to spin, the former teacher swung herself out of bed and made her way towards the console room. There was a slim chance that the Doctor’s desire for isolation had already passed, and anything was better than just sitting here.
As she made her way down the corridor, she could hear the sound of Ian tossing and turning in his own bed. But, as much as she wanted to go to him, it was the Doctor who needed her at the moment.
When she reached the console, she found him slumped in an armchair. He looked older than ever before. Defeated.
“Ah, Barbara, my dear,” he said, looking up at her with tired eyes, “We’ll be arriving soon, I’ll let you know when we do …”
She wondered if he was even aware what he was saying. His mind was clearly elsewhere, and his body longed to follow it.
“How are you, Doctor?” she asked, gently, and the Doctor didn’t even bother answering.
Barbara knew what he wanted. He wanted her to reassure him, to tell him that he’d done the right thing when he left Susan behind. But she couldn’t because, despite her earlier attempts to convince herself, she just didn’t know. Susan had seen so much, but she was still so terribly young.
“We couldn’t stay for the wedding,” said the Doctor, “She would never have stayed if we’d given her a chance to leave.”
That was true, so Barbara nodded, and pulled up an armchair beside him, ready to listen, and comfort as best she could, whenever he decided to speak again.
“There will be no one to give the bride away,” he said eventually, a few minutes later.
“Oh no,” said Barbara quickly, “They all liked Susan, I’m sure there will be plenty of people who she can choose from. Tyler, perhaps. And I’m sure Jenny will help her organise everything …”
“But it won’t be me,” the Doctor protested, “She should have family there.”
“David will be her family soon,” Barbara said, and she was relieved to see that his expression was changed very suddenly. He looked almost relieved.
“Yes. She loves him, doesn’t she?” he asked. “I have never experienced love, but I believe it is very important.”
Barbara’s eyes widened, and she inwardly chastised herself for being so astonished. Very few people really understood love, whatever their species, and even fewer actually found it. She didn’t, and hadn’t. Her childhood boyfriend - followed by an even briefer fling during her university years - certainly didn’t count.
But there was Ian …
“You look tired, Barbara,” said the Doctor, disturbing her from her reverie. She decided it was easier to nod rather than protest, even if she felt more distracted than tired now. It was probably best if the Doctor didn’t know her current train of thought.
“Will you be alright, Doctor?” she asked, rising from her chair, “I probably should get back to bed.”
“I’ll be fine, my dear,” he said, almost laughing, “I am always fine.”
She didn’t believe him, but there was nothing she could do now he no longer wanted her help. The four of them had been travelling together for months, but Barbara was well aware of the fact that they didn’t know their pilot at all. And probably never would. She doubted that the Doctor would ever let anyone in this universe - human or otherwise - get that close to him.
Perhaps she and Ian would return home, one day. And then the Doctor would be left travelling the universe alone. Always alone. How could he bear it?
“Will you really go back, one day?” she asked. In the stillness of the TARDIS at this time of night, it was easy to ask questions she wouldn’t normally dare to ask. It could all be forgotten by tomorrow, if necessary.
The Doctor laughed a little. “Even a Time Lord cannot make a promise like that, Barbara. Even we cannot tell what the future will hold.”
A Time Lord. What a fitting title. Terrible, and proud, and majestic.
“I … I’ve always wanted to ask,” she said, turning back to face him for a moment, “Who exactly is Susan’s grandmother?” Hadn’t he love her, at least?
“Ah, that’s the problem with travelling in time, you see, my dear,” the Doctor said with a rueful smile, “I haven’t met her yet.”
She nodded, and found herself smiling back. So he wouldn’t be alone forever, then. He’d find her - whoever she was - sooner or later, and Barbara just hoped that, when he did, she actually deserved him.
***
When Barbara reached her bedroom door, she didn’t enter immediately. They’d saved the world today, she thought, but even that didn’t matter anymore. What mattered now was tomorrow.
She turned on her heel and moved back down the corridor, towards the room where Ian was still lying awake.
Tomorrow mattered. Tomorrow, and the next grand adventure …
What happened after that was up to them.