Fic: Lost Boy
It’s awkward and slow. It’s all awkward and slow. Every single moment. The ride is bumpy, and he jolts as they hit another hole in the road. They are halfway out of Norway. He can’t sit still. He fidgets and adjusts himself, and dares to steal a glance at the other people in the jeep. He quickly turns back towards the window. Staring at fjords or whatever it is they have in Norway.
The same way he used to be able to feel the earth moving and the universe stirring and the knowledge of everything that was and is and could be, now he just feels stop gaps and slow fumbling time. It used to move so quickly he had to jump to catch it, now it’s just slow. Slow, slow, slow. Dizzyingly slow.
He had taken the slow path before. He had been abandoned and sentenced to life on Earth before. Working for UNIT, saving the Earth. He fell in love with it. He loved the Earth. Except now he is completely lost and it feels a bit like cabin fever. Locked up too long in the same place, and clocks start moving backwards and the walls start moving closer.
Jackie is chatting away up front, trying to fill the horrible awkwardness. Pete is driving. Drove all the way up here to get them. They had to wait for an entire day for Pete. The drive lasts for more then an entire day, and that’s if the car never stops moving. No one had any money on them. They were fifty miles away from the closest major city, Bergen. There were no local hotels, and much of the area had been abandoned since the Cybermen came. So they were stuck camping out on the beach until Pete arrived.
Of course the TARDIS had to drop them off more then a thousand miles from where they needed to be. He was beginning to understand why Sarah Jane was so put out by being dropped off in the wrong place. He didn’t really understand it then. For him 1987 was just another country, so what difference do a few hours or a few hundred miles make?
Except he feels it now. He feels like Captain Hook, being chased all around by horrible, stifling time. He looks up at the sky for a moment, wondering where the TARDIS is right now. For a brief moment he wishes he had his own little pirate crew so he could track down Peter Pan, gallivanting up there in the universe. Bring him back down to Earth. Make him sorry he gets all of time and space. Punish him for his freedom and his immortality.
Rose hasn’t said a word to him since the TARDIS disappeared. He grabbed her hand on the beach as the TARDIS vanished. She stood there in shock for somewhere between a minute and an hour. He really didn‘t know, time was hard to measure in those moments, because he was watching the TARDIS leave as well. He was losing something, too. Except Rose couldn’t see that. She just saw the TARDIS leaving. After she came out of her shock, she pulled away from him. Jackie had tried to talk to them, but no one was up for any kind of talking. So a night was spent silently watching the skies, waiting for the TARDIS to return. Waiting for the man in the brown suit to come out and say he made a mistake, and of course they could all travel in his magic box. Part of him is still waiting for the blue box to return. Part of Rose is, too.
She scoots herself as close to the window and as far from him as the car allows. He can feel her shoulders rise, her body block itself. Closing itself off. Wendy captured, trapped. Except there is no escape. There is no TARDIS to take her away. Peter Pan has forsaken her and sentenced her to care for cruel pirates. When she looks up at the stars, how badly does she want to bring the man in the brown suit back down here? Does she want to scream and rage and tear him apart, too? Is she going insane trying to figure out what she did that was so awful that she was abandoned?
It’s funny, because he thought he would be okay. He thought this was what he wanted. A life where he could grow old. A life with Rose. He idealized it in his mind, those moments on the beach. He would have a life with Rose. She would recognize him. She would love him exactly the same way she always loved him. But really, he knew that was wrong. It was all wrong. Because he feels a sickness in himself that won’t go away. Maybe it’s wanderlust. Maybe it’s his heart breaking. He doesn’t really know. He does know that Rose doesn’t want him. She wants the TARDIS and Peter Pan. She wants adventures and the stars and new worlds and the past and the future and everything in between. He can’t blame her, because he wants the same exact things.
“So, Doctor,” Pete says turning around to look at the Doctor. Rose cuts Pete off before he can finish his sentence.
“It’s John, Dad. John Smith.”
Pete continues saying whatever he was saying. Pete has been tuned out. The Doctor - John Smith - whatever he is, is not listening anymore. He is grinding his teeth a little, fighting the urge to open the door and jump out. Pulling his lips tight, making sure not to look at anyone in particular. He presses his nose against the window. He tries to remember how to breath, how his body functions. Sometimes he forgets he only has one heart now.
At this point, he can‘t even conceive of looking at Rose. She wants the Doctor. The other Doctor. The proper Doctor. She even said it on the beach. The Doctor is the man up there in the TARDIS. He is just some pale imitation. He wants to scream, I am the Doctor. Because he is. It doesn’t matter how many times they look at him like he’s wrong, or tell him he’s not the Doctor, he knows what he is.
A hand on his knee makes him jump. He looks up at Jackie, looking at him with concern. He never thought he would say it, but thank heaven for Jackie Tyler. “Are you alright, love?”
“Of course I am. I’m fine, I’m always fine.” He gives her a tight smile. The one he’s been perfecting for 900 years. Except he’s only been alive for about two days. But he remembers 900 years. So isn’t it the same?
The more he thinks about it now, the more he starts to doubt himself. The more he thinks of Rose the more he doubts who or what he is. He feels more distant from her now than he did when the wall closed between them at Canary Wharf. If there was one thing he was certain about it was that he was the Doctor. He’s beginning to wonder if that might be wrong now. He used to be a Time Lord. Now he is nothing. Just a human. Not even that. He’s just a human walking around like a bad carbon copy of someone else. He’s nothing. An anomaly. A genetic mistake. Nothing.
He watches the mile markers. Still a million miles to go until they reach London. He thinks he might run away when he gets there. Travel to Budapest or St. Petersburg or Barcelona. The city, not the planet. He was never good at staying in one place for too long. Maybe he’ll find the Donna or the Martha of this world. He probably won’t. His heart couldn’t handle them looking through him the way Rose does now. Resenting him for walking around with a face and a voice that belong to the man she loves. She hates him for it. He hates the Doctor, too.
The same way he used to be able to feel the earth moving and the universe stirring and the knowledge of everything that was and is and could be, now he just feels stop gaps and slow fumbling time. It used to move so quickly he had to jump to catch it, now it’s just slow. Slow, slow, slow. Dizzyingly slow.
He had taken the slow path before. He had been abandoned and sentenced to life on Earth before. Working for UNIT, saving the Earth. He fell in love with it. He loved the Earth. Except now he is completely lost and it feels a bit like cabin fever. Locked up too long in the same place, and clocks start moving backwards and the walls start moving closer.
Jackie is chatting away up front, trying to fill the horrible awkwardness. Pete is driving. Drove all the way up here to get them. They had to wait for an entire day for Pete. The drive lasts for more then an entire day, and that’s if the car never stops moving. No one had any money on them. They were fifty miles away from the closest major city, Bergen. There were no local hotels, and much of the area had been abandoned since the Cybermen came. So they were stuck camping out on the beach until Pete arrived.
Of course the TARDIS had to drop them off more then a thousand miles from where they needed to be. He was beginning to understand why Sarah Jane was so put out by being dropped off in the wrong place. He didn’t really understand it then. For him 1987 was just another country, so what difference do a few hours or a few hundred miles make?
Except he feels it now. He feels like Captain Hook, being chased all around by horrible, stifling time. He looks up at the sky for a moment, wondering where the TARDIS is right now. For a brief moment he wishes he had his own little pirate crew so he could track down Peter Pan, gallivanting up there in the universe. Bring him back down to Earth. Make him sorry he gets all of time and space. Punish him for his freedom and his immortality.
Rose hasn’t said a word to him since the TARDIS disappeared. He grabbed her hand on the beach as the TARDIS vanished. She stood there in shock for somewhere between a minute and an hour. He really didn‘t know, time was hard to measure in those moments, because he was watching the TARDIS leave as well. He was losing something, too. Except Rose couldn’t see that. She just saw the TARDIS leaving. After she came out of her shock, she pulled away from him. Jackie had tried to talk to them, but no one was up for any kind of talking. So a night was spent silently watching the skies, waiting for the TARDIS to return. Waiting for the man in the brown suit to come out and say he made a mistake, and of course they could all travel in his magic box. Part of him is still waiting for the blue box to return. Part of Rose is, too.
She scoots herself as close to the window and as far from him as the car allows. He can feel her shoulders rise, her body block itself. Closing itself off. Wendy captured, trapped. Except there is no escape. There is no TARDIS to take her away. Peter Pan has forsaken her and sentenced her to care for cruel pirates. When she looks up at the stars, how badly does she want to bring the man in the brown suit back down here? Does she want to scream and rage and tear him apart, too? Is she going insane trying to figure out what she did that was so awful that she was abandoned?
It’s funny, because he thought he would be okay. He thought this was what he wanted. A life where he could grow old. A life with Rose. He idealized it in his mind, those moments on the beach. He would have a life with Rose. She would recognize him. She would love him exactly the same way she always loved him. But really, he knew that was wrong. It was all wrong. Because he feels a sickness in himself that won’t go away. Maybe it’s wanderlust. Maybe it’s his heart breaking. He doesn’t really know. He does know that Rose doesn’t want him. She wants the TARDIS and Peter Pan. She wants adventures and the stars and new worlds and the past and the future and everything in between. He can’t blame her, because he wants the same exact things.
“So, Doctor,” Pete says turning around to look at the Doctor. Rose cuts Pete off before he can finish his sentence.
“It’s John, Dad. John Smith.”
Pete continues saying whatever he was saying. Pete has been tuned out. The Doctor - John Smith - whatever he is, is not listening anymore. He is grinding his teeth a little, fighting the urge to open the door and jump out. Pulling his lips tight, making sure not to look at anyone in particular. He presses his nose against the window. He tries to remember how to breath, how his body functions. Sometimes he forgets he only has one heart now.
At this point, he can‘t even conceive of looking at Rose. She wants the Doctor. The other Doctor. The proper Doctor. She even said it on the beach. The Doctor is the man up there in the TARDIS. He is just some pale imitation. He wants to scream, I am the Doctor. Because he is. It doesn’t matter how many times they look at him like he’s wrong, or tell him he’s not the Doctor, he knows what he is.
A hand on his knee makes him jump. He looks up at Jackie, looking at him with concern. He never thought he would say it, but thank heaven for Jackie Tyler. “Are you alright, love?”
“Of course I am. I’m fine, I’m always fine.” He gives her a tight smile. The one he’s been perfecting for 900 years. Except he’s only been alive for about two days. But he remembers 900 years. So isn’t it the same?
The more he thinks about it now, the more he starts to doubt himself. The more he thinks of Rose the more he doubts who or what he is. He feels more distant from her now than he did when the wall closed between them at Canary Wharf. If there was one thing he was certain about it was that he was the Doctor. He’s beginning to wonder if that might be wrong now. He used to be a Time Lord. Now he is nothing. Just a human. Not even that. He’s just a human walking around like a bad carbon copy of someone else. He’s nothing. An anomaly. A genetic mistake. Nothing.
He watches the mile markers. Still a million miles to go until they reach London. He thinks he might run away when he gets there. Travel to Budapest or St. Petersburg or Barcelona. The city, not the planet. He was never good at staying in one place for too long. Maybe he’ll find the Donna or the Martha of this world. He probably won’t. His heart couldn’t handle them looking through him the way Rose does now. Resenting him for walking around with a face and a voice that belong to the man she loves. She hates him for it. He hates the Doctor, too.