Fic: Alley 1/1 [Doctor Who, PG]
Title: Alley 1/1
Author: GylzGirl
Characters: The Doctor, Donna Noble.
Rating: PG [To be safe, all of season 4]. Fairly dark.
Prompt Word: #6 Bow for the weekly drabble challenge at doctor_donna
Word Count: 638. We'll call it short-fic. I didn't quite make bow but used bowed, I hope that's kosher.
The Doctor was running. The sound of his trainers slapping against the wet cobblestones barely audible over the frantic pounding of his own heartbeats. There, at the end of the alley, stood Donna Noble. Beside her loomed the dark figure of Breckin Mador and so the Doctor ran ever faster.
He was not some alien menace; not some unstoppable immortal bent on cracking open the molecular structure of the universe. He is just a man; just a cruel, spoiled man intent on acquiring as much of whatever he wants and not prepared to see anyone stand in his way. His is the ilk of Harrison Chase or Mehendri Solon. An innocent visit to an old friend of the Doctor's had caused their paths to cross.
Mador is so far beneath anything else the Doctor and Donna have faced. Yet, the Doctor could see the overwhelming terror in Donna's eyes, even from this frustratingly distant vantage. Mador had her by the throat, squeezing the air from her. Tears flowing down her cheeks as her body bows in submission, trying to lever itself away from him as her fingernails desperately claw at the large hand crushing her windpipe.
She is more afraid then he has ever seen her and the Doctor knows why. Before her eyes were opened to the worlds and beings that he has shown her, this was the kind of death that she feared. Men like this were the monsters in the dark. This was how women of her time died. They weren't sacrificed to some angry volcano god or scrambled internally by an alien ray gun. They were brutally strangled to death in a dark alley by a bastard with no conscience.
This was 1890; hardly her time, but Donna was dying nonetheless. Her blue eyes fluttered closed, squeezing out the last of the liquid behind her lashes. Her hands slipped listlessly from his arm and dangled at her sides. Her body lost all tension and drooped heavily. And still Mador squeezed.
The Doctor finally reached them, arm outstretched, brandishing the sonic screwdriver. Donna's body dropped against the wet stone and the Doctor bent to slide his fingers against her neck. Finding a pulse, the Doctor rose and began backing Mador towards the shadowed brick wall that sealed the alley from the neighboring street.
Donna awoke to the sound of police whistles. She was very afraid and her throat was burning. She blinked a couple of times to try to clear her swimming vision and the Doctor's face came into focus. He sensed her eyes on him and smiled down at her. “Don't try to talk,” he whispered gently. Donna realized at that moment that he was carrying her down the street. “I want to get you to the TARDIS and check your throat for damage.”
A wave of panic overcame Donna. Her eyes widened. “Ma-Ma-M...” she squeaked then gave up as fresh tears of pain flooded her eyes.
“Madoc won't hurt anyone ever again,” the Doctor smiled reassuringly. “I've left him in the capable hands of the local constabulary.”
The next morning, Donna and the Doctor returned to the home of George Litefoot. The Professor was appalled at the bruises on Donna's neck and set about making a fuss over her and getting her off her feet despite Donna's hoarse protestations. The Doctor just smiled and leaned against the wall. His eye wandered over to the newspaper laying on Professor Litefoot's dining table. The lead story seemed to be about a man, as yet unidentified, being found brutally murdered in an alleyway. Reasoning that there was no sense in upsetting Donna with a story about an attack in an alley, the Doctor folded the paper and slid it quietly into the refuse bin before joining his friends in the study.
Author: GylzGirl
Characters: The Doctor, Donna Noble.
Rating: PG [To be safe, all of season 4]. Fairly dark.
Prompt Word: #6 Bow for the weekly drabble challenge at doctor_donna
Word Count: 638. We'll call it short-fic. I didn't quite make bow but used bowed, I hope that's kosher.
The Doctor was running. The sound of his trainers slapping against the wet cobblestones barely audible over the frantic pounding of his own heartbeats. There, at the end of the alley, stood Donna Noble. Beside her loomed the dark figure of Breckin Mador and so the Doctor ran ever faster.
He was not some alien menace; not some unstoppable immortal bent on cracking open the molecular structure of the universe. He is just a man; just a cruel, spoiled man intent on acquiring as much of whatever he wants and not prepared to see anyone stand in his way. His is the ilk of Harrison Chase or Mehendri Solon. An innocent visit to an old friend of the Doctor's had caused their paths to cross.
Mador is so far beneath anything else the Doctor and Donna have faced. Yet, the Doctor could see the overwhelming terror in Donna's eyes, even from this frustratingly distant vantage. Mador had her by the throat, squeezing the air from her. Tears flowing down her cheeks as her body bows in submission, trying to lever itself away from him as her fingernails desperately claw at the large hand crushing her windpipe.
She is more afraid then he has ever seen her and the Doctor knows why. Before her eyes were opened to the worlds and beings that he has shown her, this was the kind of death that she feared. Men like this were the monsters in the dark. This was how women of her time died. They weren't sacrificed to some angry volcano god or scrambled internally by an alien ray gun. They were brutally strangled to death in a dark alley by a bastard with no conscience.
This was 1890; hardly her time, but Donna was dying nonetheless. Her blue eyes fluttered closed, squeezing out the last of the liquid behind her lashes. Her hands slipped listlessly from his arm and dangled at her sides. Her body lost all tension and drooped heavily. And still Mador squeezed.
The Doctor finally reached them, arm outstretched, brandishing the sonic screwdriver. Donna's body dropped against the wet stone and the Doctor bent to slide his fingers against her neck. Finding a pulse, the Doctor rose and began backing Mador towards the shadowed brick wall that sealed the alley from the neighboring street.
Donna awoke to the sound of police whistles. She was very afraid and her throat was burning. She blinked a couple of times to try to clear her swimming vision and the Doctor's face came into focus. He sensed her eyes on him and smiled down at her. “Don't try to talk,” he whispered gently. Donna realized at that moment that he was carrying her down the street. “I want to get you to the TARDIS and check your throat for damage.”
A wave of panic overcame Donna. Her eyes widened. “Ma-Ma-M...” she squeaked then gave up as fresh tears of pain flooded her eyes.
“Madoc won't hurt anyone ever again,” the Doctor smiled reassuringly. “I've left him in the capable hands of the local constabulary.”
The next morning, Donna and the Doctor returned to the home of George Litefoot. The Professor was appalled at the bruises on Donna's neck and set about making a fuss over her and getting her off her feet despite Donna's hoarse protestations. The Doctor just smiled and leaned against the wall. His eye wandered over to the newspaper laying on Professor Litefoot's dining table. The lead story seemed to be about a man, as yet unidentified, being found brutally murdered in an alleyway. Reasoning that there was no sense in upsetting Donna with a story about an attack in an alley, the Doctor folded the paper and slid it quietly into the refuse bin before joining his friends in the study.