[Fic] Do You Want Be Found?
In the end it's not the killing, but a string of months with no fight and no planning that causes him to take off again. The TARDIS bay isn't well-guarded at night and no one directly interferes with his attempt to leave. Sometimes he wonders if they know about his jaunts, if they allow them as an indulgence, to make him feel less like a prisoner and more like he chooses to come back every time.
She is comfortably familiar under his hands, and he smiles for the first time in weeks, murmuring to her as he pulls the lever. "I missed you too."
They drift for a while before he chooses London. Earth has never been his favorite planet, but he finds himself back there time and again, as if he's waiting for something to happen to him there. He leaves her with a pat against her console and a promise to come back before long, but it's more habit than necessity. She trusts him and more than that, she knows him. She knows he will come back for her.
He watches people as he wanders. He stops sometimes just to watch faces pass him by. Being lost in the crowds, unnoticed and unremarkable, is as much of a blessing as it is a frustration. Sometimes he can go home after a couple of hours of this.
But sometimes watching just isn't enough.
His hands start to twitch when he keeps still too long, and he finds himself walking until he doesn't see anyone else and still he can't keep still. He needs to do, to work and to try and finally he finds himself back at the TARDIS, kneeling over her wiring with tools in his hand. There isn't much he can do to make her better when she's already working this well, but it keeps him occupied, if only barely.
When the door shuts, swinging shut with a noise that's not quite a bang, he pulls himself to his feet and shifts his grip on the tool in hand to be used more easily as a weapon.
One glance at the lost-looking stranger and he sets it down. He doesn't know who he's looking at, he doesn't know why he's here, but something in him says this isn't somebody he wants to hurt.
"Who are you?" he asks, more gently than he expected to, and he tries not to be disappointed when the man doesn't act like he already knows him.
It shouldn't be as hard as it.
Word Count: 500
Prompt: Bored (Trait drabbles)
Verse/Timeline: Memento Mori/Early
She is comfortably familiar under his hands, and he smiles for the first time in weeks, murmuring to her as he pulls the lever. "I missed you too."
They drift for a while before he chooses London. Earth has never been his favorite planet, but he finds himself back there time and again, as if he's waiting for something to happen to him there. He leaves her with a pat against her console and a promise to come back before long, but it's more habit than necessity. She trusts him and more than that, she knows him. She knows he will come back for her.
He watches people as he wanders. He stops sometimes just to watch faces pass him by. Being lost in the crowds, unnoticed and unremarkable, is as much of a blessing as it is a frustration. Sometimes he can go home after a couple of hours of this.
But sometimes watching just isn't enough.
His hands start to twitch when he keeps still too long, and he finds himself walking until he doesn't see anyone else and still he can't keep still. He needs to do, to work and to try and finally he finds himself back at the TARDIS, kneeling over her wiring with tools in his hand. There isn't much he can do to make her better when she's already working this well, but it keeps him occupied, if only barely.
When the door shuts, swinging shut with a noise that's not quite a bang, he pulls himself to his feet and shifts his grip on the tool in hand to be used more easily as a weapon.
One glance at the lost-looking stranger and he sets it down. He doesn't know who he's looking at, he doesn't know why he's here, but something in him says this isn't somebody he wants to hurt.
"Who are you?" he asks, more gently than he expected to, and he tries not to be disappointed when the man doesn't act like he already knows him.
It shouldn't be as hard as it.
Word Count: 500
Prompt: Bored (Trait drabbles)
Verse/Timeline: Memento Mori/Early