Pain Shared is Split by Half [Active]
Character(s): Yuna and the Eleventh Doctor.
Content: After a rough night, Yuna and the Doctor have a heart-to-heart chat.
Setting: Iriela Apartments
Time: Late night, Week 36
Warnings: Descriptions of nightmares?
He dreamt of fire. He dreamt of fire and ash so thick, it choked out the sky in some parts. The fire was little better; it blended in well with the burnt-orange skies of Gallifrey and blinded him. He choked on the smoke that resulted, stumbling, hands fumbling in the brightness for something, anything. As always, there weren't the usual signs of dreaming; he could smell the smoke and feel the flame as it seared him. The Doctor ran, something small and large and cold and hotter than all the flames of Kasterborous' galaxy. It was the Moment, he knew; and he had to use it.
He had to.
The Doctor awoke in a cold sweat, tears dripping onto the pillow as he gasped in loneliness and sorrow. They were gone. They were all gone, and they would never come back. The physical pain had faded by now; he was well again, well enough to leave and head back to the TARDIS, but something had been stopping him, and now he knew why, despite the presence of Sexy and Mufasa, in the apartment next door.
He needed someone, anyone, who would forgive him for what he'd done. Who could. But while Yuna couldn't give him that, he liked to believe that, had she known, she would have. But that was nonsense. No one was going to forgive him - no one was alive to forgive him now.
Sitting up, the Doctor scrubbed at his tears with the back of his hand and sighed.
Content: After a rough night, Yuna and the Doctor have a heart-to-heart chat.
Setting: Iriela Apartments
Time: Late night, Week 36
Warnings: Descriptions of nightmares?
He dreamt of fire. He dreamt of fire and ash so thick, it choked out the sky in some parts. The fire was little better; it blended in well with the burnt-orange skies of Gallifrey and blinded him. He choked on the smoke that resulted, stumbling, hands fumbling in the brightness for something, anything. As always, there weren't the usual signs of dreaming; he could smell the smoke and feel the flame as it seared him. The Doctor ran, something small and large and cold and hotter than all the flames of Kasterborous' galaxy. It was the Moment, he knew; and he had to use it.
He had to.
The Doctor awoke in a cold sweat, tears dripping onto the pillow as he gasped in loneliness and sorrow. They were gone. They were all gone, and they would never come back. The physical pain had faded by now; he was well again, well enough to leave and head back to the TARDIS, but something had been stopping him, and now he knew why, despite the presence of Sexy and Mufasa, in the apartment next door.
He needed someone, anyone, who would forgive him for what he'd done. Who could. But while Yuna couldn't give him that, he liked to believe that, had she known, she would have. But that was nonsense. No one was going to forgive him - no one was alive to forgive him now.
Sitting up, the Doctor scrubbed at his tears with the back of his hand and sighed.