I feel really uneasy about this. This story touches on possible situations that 'never happened'. It has moments that might be judged as sexual.
Title: Insanity
Rating: PG-13
Era: Fifth Doc.
Disclaimer: It's a take on Axis of Insanity, the Big Finish audio, with a companion that isn't supposed to be there. It's all Big Finish and BBC...I'm don't own them at all.
Summary: A magic fountain reveals all.
**
“This is the kingdom of dead end lives, Doctor,” the voice rumbled. “Dead end lives and your little mistakes.”
There was a lilt to the voice that reminded Tegan of madness, cold, bleeding, overwhelming madness. The face in front of her swirled and changed, at once feminine and masculine, at once old and young. All that remained constant was the mad, grating laugh and the red satin that the…being…wore.
“Oh, not only my mistakes, I assure you,” the Doctor muttered in return. She felt, rather than saw, his hands slide into his trouser pockets. The sounds of the material pulling harshly taut over his skin and muscle were reassuring. She knew that sound; it was familiar like her face in the mirror. “I’m not the only Time Lord in the cosmos, you know.”
“You have given your fair share-“
“Everyone has given their fair share,” the Doctor responded back hotly. “Every aborted thought, every forgotten action, every…”
“Every regretted lack of action?” the jester asked sweetly.
“What’s he going on about?” Tegan interjected. She grabbed the Doctor’s forearm in a vice like grip. When she did so, the world flushed purple and gold. So bright were the surroundings that her loudly colored dress appeared dim.
The Doctor absentmindedly patted her hand, but his voice betrayed his agitation at the question. “Have you ever felt the pull at a moment when you feel as though there was something you just had to do, Tegan? Like an ache to do something, a thought that just wouldn’t go away? That’s what he’s talking about…crossroads in destiny.”
“You can see that here?” She asked quietly. The thing that she looked at appeared like a still fountain. Although water constantly cascaded down the crumbling and rotting stone, it ended in a small pool which didn’t ripple, didn’t move according to the entrance of the liquid. Even the sound was strange: there was no drip at the end, the reverb one expected from the drop.
“Everything!” The jester shouted and danced in a circle. “Everything in a Universe of nothing. Beautiful as poetry.”
“Not all poetry is beautiful, some of it is painful,” the Doctor supplied.
“Watch closely, come closer,” the jester implored as his spindly finger crooked to draw them closer.
The Doctor’s hand pressed against Tegan’s back to bring her along side him as he stepped to the fountain. “As we’re a bit of a captive audience-“
“We don’t have a choice,” she finished under her breath.
“What is it that you want us to see?” the Doctor asked as he drew near.
“So much to choose from, so many mistakes. But in order for you to get through this world, Doctor, you’ll need a friend and their trust, their unwavering support…”
“He always has that,” Tegan responded with heat.
The Doctor gave a smirk to the joker and shrugged his hands into his pockets. “I wouldn’t test Tegan’s loyalty; she rather takes it personally.”
Still, he frowned and leaned back on his feet to stare at the deep water. Tegan shifted her weight from foot to foot. With an agitated sigh, she glanced up at her friend. “This isn’t helping us to find Turlough…” she groused.
“We’ll find him; hush,” he reminded her. “What,” the Doctor emphasized and leaned forward to pin the being dressed in bad silk and satin with his stare. “What is it that you want me to see?”
“A crossroad not taken,” the jester said cryptically and smiled so widely that Tegan felt his teeth were an entity of their own. “Look closely and then begin your travel…”
**
The world seemed to drift away when her attention was drawn to the still fountain. It was like a train wreck; it held her attention in a morbid way. At first there was nothing, and then there was an image. At first it was fuzzy and the like a shock, like seeing yourself in the mirror after a night of partying. She saw herself, looking different than she felt inside, standing next to a large stone pillar. It looked very like a great deal of rock formations she had seen in her travels, but was identifiable by their glowing sapphire color.
“Herdin…” she breathed. Herdin was a quiet planet where they had only been shot at once instead of constantly. Their main point of being there was for the beauty and when they had finished helping the ruling party to iron out mishaps, they had had time to enjoy it.
She knew the exact moment they were seeing: at the apex of the mountain, amongst the ancient statues and the rocks that formed their places of worship, she, Turlough and the Doctor had gathered to view an initiation. They sat, under the full moon, dressed in the native dress of the planet, of the sect, by the largest of the stones. Below them, in the circle, the voices of girls and women raised in praise of the harvest.
She watched herself leaning back into the stone, smiling and relaxed, letting the breeze and harmony wash over her. The Doctor sat to her right, quiet with his arm over the boulder, higher than her shoulder. Turlough sat to her left, his eyes closed. In remembrance, she knew that the boy was asleep.
“It’s…”
“One of the most beautiful things in the cosmos,” the Doctor supplied with a small grin, finishing her sentence. “I know.”
She glanced up at him, shivering as a high note was reached by the group below. For a moment she was swept away on the tune, warmed and happy. The Doctor’s hand fell to her shoulder and she felt him squeeze it in response. “I try to come here when the travels become dangerous and overwhelming…” he s aid with a sigh.
“Once a week then?” She asked cheekily and then quieted. “Did you…”
“After Adric?” he asked and then shook his head. “No, Tegan, although it was needed.”
She nodded slowly and then turned her gaze back down at the collection of people in the clearing below. “I can see where it would be a form of relaxation.”
“Quite,” he agreed.
**
Tegan sighed and closed her eyes. She knew the feeling she had had as the Doctor’s arm had laid heavily across her shoulders, as she had felt his chest drawing a long breath and an equally deep exhale against her body. The sight of his leg straightening next to hers and the cool feeling like summer linen being near his body gave her were incredibly intimate. And as Turlough was asleep, his words were terribly personal, only for her ears.
**
At that moment, as a breeze ruffled her hair, she had felt a need, a pressing aching need to act, but she remembered she had squelched it.
With a sigh, she turned to him, and tilted her head up, pressing her lips gently against his chin. His breathing stopped and she left her lips against his skin, her hand slowly touching his cheek. As she shifted to allow herself to get closer to him, to move her lips to his, she felt heat, a tickling in her loins and yet a wonderful flooding feeling of perfect relaxation…lust and familiarity all in one.
**
She could feel it almost as if she sat there…down to the coolness of his lips as she saw them press against hers, gentle and cool. The surprise as he didn’t pull away. Like a drink of cool water, his lips opening in encouragement and the feeling of their tongues meeting in a gentle, easy, wonderfully primitive dance. It was like second nature, like a summer breeze.
Feeling his hand cup her head, his thumb tenderly turning her face from his, levering a little, her leg lying on top of his and feeling the bulge of his thigh muscle. Cool hair brushing her cheek as he pressed his lips against her throat, a breath against her skin, her name said in a hoarse whisper that made her toes curl. Lips against her ear…hands closing over her ears to turn her back to face him…strength in the touch and yet tender. Trembling in her own lips, a gentle nip from him, and her own fingers in his hair…
Taking a deep shaky breath as she felt his thigh tense and tighten…felt the material tighten, stretched tight over his groin in response to her touch, his body leaning …his breath tight…a light moan, a breath like a tickle against her lips before he leaned in again to kiss her…
**
And then …sudden mortification…she sputtered into action…
“That never happened!”
The image faded.
**
Next to her, the Doctor stood stock still. There wasn’t even a breath to expand his chest. Blinking she stared at the still water, willing it to drip away. And then, she held up her hands in an effort to ward off the evils of the Universe. “That never happened,” she pressed.
“Yes,” the joker replied, his voice light and mocking. Tegan shuddered at the tone. “Yes, it never did happen, did it, poppet? But you wanted it to.” He rocked back on his feet; his slim artist hands crossed over his stomach, and fixed her with a stare. “I can feel the want, my dear…taste it…it tastes rather like butterscotch: slick and sweet on the tongue. Oh, you wanted to-“
“Yes, that’s enough,” the Doctor rumbled lowly. His hand tightened on Tegan’s. “She’s human and as such as strong emotions when it comes to interaction…and strong imaginations…they go hand in hand with the dreams, you see.”
“Ah, so it is her-“
Tegan frowned. “It’s my mouth and mind…human…” she nearly spit out. She shrugged the Doctor’s hand off of her elbow.
The Doctor cleared his throat and shifted his weight from foot to foot. “Her overactive imagination…”
The joker turned his black eyes to the Doctor and smiled widely. “Only hers?”
Tegan didn’t dare glance at the Doctor, but felt him as he straightened his spine. It was an arrogant pose and one that she knew well. It made her feel more comfortable.
The joker shook his hand slowly. “Oh we shall see, Time Lord: watch and see.”
**
Dark hall, lights in the ceiling swinging with each impact vibration overhead. Small bits of ceiling - debris, dust- fell on his head as he walked along the dimly light corridor.
He was tired even for him. Both companions had been missing, lost on a planet at war for days. He had recently found them again, or rather, located them. Nyssa was currently sleeping; Tegan was somewhere about. The only thorn in his side was the fact that they had to recover; he was impatient to move on.
The sound of water splashing broke through his reverie. He slowed; Tegan had mentioned a shower. They were pursued, although not immediately, and had to leave. A shower, a nap was all that he could allow, all that time would allow.
The sounds grew louder; the shower was behind the door. He opened it slowly and stepped inside. He could detect Tegan’s signature smell, he knew it was her. He turned and closed the door and wearily reached to rub his neck. As he opened his mouth, he turned to urge her to hurry, to finish with her washing and dry and dress. It was time to leave.
He didn’t know what he had expected, but it certainly wasn’t Tegan naked and in clear view. With a deep breath, he realized he had expected at least a stall or some sort of barrier to spare her from his view. Feeling the flush of embarrassment, he started to turn away.
**
“Mardia,” Tegan breathed.
The Doctor nodded his mouth dry.
**
And then he saw the bruises.
Deep purple ones on the back of her shoulders, another set like fingers on her arm. A scar- a new one, on her upper back thigh.
Hissing through his teeth, he moved forward, towards her. She had seen more action, had been hurt more than she had told him. She had been quiet; Tegan was never quiet; why hadn’t he noticed? She only yelled at him when inconvenienced; this was an entirely different situation.
“Tegan,” he said words and movements full of purpose.
She responded by turning towards him. Her eyes were glassy from lack of sleep, her movements ladened with exhaustion. As he neared, he could feel the heat from the water.
“Doc? Hell’s teeth! What-“
“Face me,” he ordered. Embarrassment was forgotten. He stopped just a couple of feet from the water spray. “Do it, Tegan.”
Her expression grew angry, shocked. “If you don’t mind- I’m naked.”
“I do very much mind, Tegan. You lied about the extent of your injuries.”
“I’m fine,” she yelled back.
“With the conditions inherent in the environment here, lying about your injuries could precipitate infection,” he warned. “Turn to me.”
“I’ll look and tell-“
“You’ll do as I say-“
“So nice of you to take an interest in our wellbeing, finally.”
“Do it,” he rumbled.
Tegan, probably in a snit of anger, turned to face him. The water was at such an angle that it continued to pour over her body. Her hands were balled into fists, her arms tight.
His gaze clinically took in her body, falling from the bruises he saw on her neck to the cut on her upper chest, bruises like fingers on her right breast, more small cuts (one actively bleeding) on her front upper thigh and a tenderness he could see in the way she kept the right side protected. When his eyes ventured back to hers, skirting her hips, waist and breasts because he couldn’t avoid seeing what was presented in front of him. Finally, he saw the angry-hurt look on her face that only Tegan could give him.
“Are you through?” She asked with bite.
He found his voice was hoarse and harsh when he said: “Who-“
“Just rough handling,” she clarified as she turned back into the spray. “Nothing more than that…and if you’re done?...”
The words drifted off. He could hear the pain in her voice; physical pain and humiliation tied up in the brash tones of her words.
A feeling of shame, anger and tenderness flooded him. She wasn’t one to cause harm to herself and often was loudly against such treatment in others; she wouldn’t have allowed harsh treatment of herself if she could have helped it. Someone had forcibly treated her poorly.
**
The Doctor inhaled slowly. He remembered the feeling of wanting to comfort Tegan no matter how awkward the attempt. But, he had turned and left the room, he remembered, and left her in solitude.
**
The water shut off, leaving the room to echo with the sound of dripping water. She walked toward the far wall and a small alcove. He stopped her with a word. As she slowed, he walked to her. His hands closed on her shoulder and turned her to face him. A wince from the pressure of his hands made him take her gently in his arms. Tegan stood stoically in his embrace until he pressed his lips into her hair; he could feel the moment she began to cry. It frightened him, made him feel uneasy and wary, to experience the shaking of her body with silent sobs. Her arms slowly came to rest, weakly on his waist. As one sob broke free from her lips, he drew her in closer, carefully, but determined to be her friend, someone who could (would) comfort her.
“When?” He asked, his voice caught between a painful hoarseness and directness. “Who?”
A deep breath; he could feel her chest heave with the inhale, her wet skin soaking his shirt, her breasts resting against his skin.
“Just a fight; nothing more than what I usually…I didn’t want them to get Nyssa. We needed her. Two days ago, but we’re…”
Her words came out in a jumble, fighting to get out of her mouth, syllables and vowels blending together in a rush.
“You’re pale, bruised, cut…” he muttered. “Who?” Even to his ears, it sounded like a demand.
“Mars, if you must know. But he’s worse off than I am.”
He felt a smile tug at the corners of his lips. Worse off indeed. The anger passed, bleeding from him before he knew fully what he was feeling. He pulled away slightly to see her face. His hands, palms were cupped under her chin to make her look at his eyes. He wanted to smile. ..to let her know that it was all right, that her spirit was appreciated.
In the dim light of the shower, her brown eyes looked deep and clear, but worry filled. His fingers framed her face. “Brave heart, Tegan.”
“It’s a bloody awful phrase,” she commented. “But it did help.”
He chuckled and in a moment of sudden decision leaned in to kiss her lips. He was happy that there wasn’t more wrong; that there wasn’t pain, that she was all right. The bruises would heal; he didn’t like the fact she had been manhandled, but there was no lasting damage. The kiss was meant to be quick, he didn’t know why he did it; the need to connect was only a flash. But then her lips were pliant and warm, matching her skin and the water that slowly ran in small rivulets down her body.
And she didn’t pull away; her body remained easy and relaxed in his arms. It was like a gift, and for a moment, he wanted to continue to have the connection. He wanted to experience the touch, the caress; he could smell the water on her skin, smell the sweet tanginess of her hair…it was Tegan, a friend, a women who embodied fire.
Burn or warmed by her….he didn’t know…
**
The Doctor lifted an eyebrow and swallowed hard. He absentmindedly brushed his fingers down his chest, expecting to feel moist material against his skin. Beside him, he could hear Tegan’s breath coming in short bursts, as though shocked and weathered.
“What?”
He glanced sideways at Tegan when she whispered the word. Her lips were open and slightly plumb, he decided. With a slight cough to clear his throat, he tried to give her a little smile. “A thought…”
“A thought?”
His smile widened. He wondered momentarily if she knew he was stalling for time.
“Well yes, Tegan….” He slid his hands into his pockets and looked at his feet. “A…”
“A thought,” the joker broke into the conversation with a flourish. “A regret, a wonder, a wish…” He nodded to the fountain. “This marvel shows you that which you have thought about, the node at which you made a different decision, a branch, a change in course if you will…”
“Dreams?” Tegan said, her voice tight and harsh as if stretched over the words.
The joker smiled widely and clasped his hand in front of him. Like the Cheshire cat, Tegan found she could only concentrate on the grin. As she did the face faded from view. “Hey!”
The face continued to fade until all she could see was the fountain. It dripped in lonely solitude.
“What was that all about?” she asked quietly. The Doctor made note that she didn’t meet his gaze.
“What is the best way to conquer a group, Tegan, when they have proven that they’re stronger in force? Hmm?”
“Divide and conquer?”
“Right,” he agreed and then narrowed his eyes as he glanced at the fountain. “We’re very much on our own here, and I think he wants to throw a spanner in the works. Balance is needed here.”
Tegan sighed and nodded, reaching to rub her arms. Balance, yeah…right, Doc, she thought viciously. How can I keep my balance if I’m picturing….that…in my head?