Unspoken
Ah.. first little piece of fanfic to be posted on here. Wow. (and I end up editing it.. huh..)
Doctor Who, Fourth Doctor era- specifically when he's with Sarah
Spoilers: None!
Rating: G..
Summary: The Doctor and Sarah say 'goodbye'. Inspired by Mumford and Sons 'Liar' (and named after it) Lyrics from the song are in italics.
Unspoken
He never expected things to end this way. As he never looked towards these events he supposes he couldn't really have anything to expect.
"I like your dress," he says, completely at a loss as to what one is supposed to say in a situation like this.
"Doctor," Sarah admonishes, struggling for her next breath, but still smiling. "I'm not wearing a dress."
At the very least events could have chosen to play themselves out as something farther from his nightmares. The universe very rarely listened to him though, which was one of the reasons he was always cleaning up after it.
"The one you were wearing early," he clarifies, "is it still yours?"
She looks confused for a moment before realization comes to her, tugging the corner of her lips into a wider smile"..yes." Her reply is little more than a whisper, breathing falling ragged and more labored.
"I like it," he repeats, as if the fact she had been wearing it several days ago was of little consequence.
"Thank you.." Tears start to pool in the corner of her eyes and the Doctor quickly wipes them away with the pad of his thumb, highly doubting they are a reaction to his words. A coughing fit wracks her body and he holds her closer to his chest, taking the opportunity to shift his legs so his knee wont be in her back when he lays her back down.
When it subsides she draws in a steady breath, managing just one word. "Doctor.."
He waits for her to get her breath back, having no desire to interrupt her, just watching her face- her eyes- as some notion forms behind them.
"I don't know what to say," she confesses.
The Doctor has a strong suspicion that she is lying, but answers with, "oh Sarah, neither do I."
She manages to laugh and he grins in response until she starts coughing again, her fingers tightening their grip on his shirt. When the fit ceases he can feel her entire body trembling, and in turn finds himself holding her tighter.
Sarah slowly manages to uncurl her fingers and slowly reaches up with one hand to touch his cheek.
Her hand is clammy, shockingly cold against his skin, or perhaps it's the lack of warmth that he has come to associate with her he finds so startling. All in all, It doesn't feel right and a great part of him wishes to rebel, to run, to not accept what his senses are telling him, but he can't deny her this one last token. The Doctor holds her hand against his cheek with his own, knowing she is too weak to keep it there herself.
Sarah's eyes slowly begin to close, and she opens her mouth as if to say something, but her lips quickly fall back together, as if she thought better of it.
The Doctor thinks he might understand.
Doctor Who, Fourth Doctor era- specifically when he's with Sarah
Spoilers: None!
Rating: G..
Summary: The Doctor and Sarah say 'goodbye'. Inspired by Mumford and Sons 'Liar' (and named after it) Lyrics from the song are in italics.
Unspoken
He never expected things to end this way. As he never looked towards these events he supposes he couldn't really have anything to expect.
"I like your dress," he says, completely at a loss as to what one is supposed to say in a situation like this.
"Doctor," Sarah admonishes, struggling for her next breath, but still smiling. "I'm not wearing a dress."
At the very least events could have chosen to play themselves out as something farther from his nightmares. The universe very rarely listened to him though, which was one of the reasons he was always cleaning up after it.
"The one you were wearing early," he clarifies, "is it still yours?"
She looks confused for a moment before realization comes to her, tugging the corner of her lips into a wider smile"..yes." Her reply is little more than a whisper, breathing falling ragged and more labored.
"I like it," he repeats, as if the fact she had been wearing it several days ago was of little consequence.
"Thank you.." Tears start to pool in the corner of her eyes and the Doctor quickly wipes them away with the pad of his thumb, highly doubting they are a reaction to his words. A coughing fit wracks her body and he holds her closer to his chest, taking the opportunity to shift his legs so his knee wont be in her back when he lays her back down.
When it subsides she draws in a steady breath, managing just one word. "Doctor.."
He waits for her to get her breath back, having no desire to interrupt her, just watching her face- her eyes- as some notion forms behind them.
"I don't know what to say," she confesses.
The Doctor has a strong suspicion that she is lying, but answers with, "oh Sarah, neither do I."
She manages to laugh and he grins in response until she starts coughing again, her fingers tightening their grip on his shirt. When the fit ceases he can feel her entire body trembling, and in turn finds himself holding her tighter.
Sarah slowly manages to uncurl her fingers and slowly reaches up with one hand to touch his cheek.
Her hand is clammy, shockingly cold against his skin, or perhaps it's the lack of warmth that he has come to associate with her he finds so startling. All in all, It doesn't feel right and a great part of him wishes to rebel, to run, to not accept what his senses are telling him, but he can't deny her this one last token. The Doctor holds her hand against his cheek with his own, knowing she is too weak to keep it there herself.
Sarah's eyes slowly begin to close, and she opens her mouth as if to say something, but her lips quickly fall back together, as if she thought better of it.
The Doctor thinks he might understand.