Doctor Who, "Treasured Routines" Oswin Oswald, rated G
Fandom: Doctor Who
Title: Treasured Routines
Author: Paynesgrey
Rated: G
Characters: Oswin Oswald, mention of the Daleks
Genre: Introspection/Genfic
Word Count: 620
Warnings/Spoilers: No warnings. Spoilers for "Asylum of the Daleks", the series 7 pilot.
Notes: Written for the "Treasures" theme for who_contest. Also used for the "thoughtfully" prompt for the Summer Mini Challenge.
Summary: Through it all, Oswin treasures her humanity the most.
Oswin pulls a forlorn souffle out of the oven, frowns, and sighs unhappily at another failed experiment. She does not know what she's doing wrong, but she's a genius, so she's confident she can someday get it right - and make a dish that she knows will make her mum proud.
She turns to the ingredients on the counter. The milk sits room temperature and almost empty, flour dusts the counter and stove-top, and she puts the bowl in the sink and begins to clean her used dishes.
She'll work on this recipe all over again - as always, and she's sure somehow, sometime, she'll make it perfect.
~*~
The music shrills in her head like a drowning scream. It's less comforting today, and Oswin purses her lips, glares at the door, and hates that the Daleks are quite persistent this time. They bang at the door, and she hears that cold, mechanical echo in her brain, scorching her every nerve.
She settles into her hammock, pulls the pillow over her ears, and closes her eyes.
She thinks of home, of successful souffles, and even of her first kiss.
Something to keep the endless chatter and threats away.
~*~
Oswin dreams in numbers. Cold, endless equations that sometimes scare her because she knows everything, all at once, instantly and without doubt.
When Oswin dreams of formulas, it feels as though she's losing a piece of herself. Her heart turns a little colder around the edges when she solves a new, difficult theorem or can devise another seemingly impossible way to hack into another Dalek firewall.
It's invigorating to be this smart. Her mum would be so proud of her. But more and more, day after day, the supposed and expected praise of humans no longer gives her comfort, even if she is so terribly alone.
Oswin being a genius - well, it's just something that is.
~*~
She schedules her endless days accordingly, and Oswin always has a plan, a routine. Like clockwork, she knows the exact time when the Daleks come for her, slamming into her door and trying to get into her sanctuary, always seeping their way into her head.
So she has a plan. At least once a day she makes a souffle, and she imagines the look on her mum's face when she presents the perfectly made dish.
And when some experiments fail, and some are barely mediocre, Oswin settles into her hammock, she stares at the ceiling and turns on her voice recorder. She scribes another letter to her mum, and she looks around at the room of her treasures, her sanctuary, and thoughtfully she reminds herself that she will be rescued. She's not that alone, and soon, someday, she won't be.
She will survive. The Daleks may continue to force themselves into her head, and she may continually try to push them out, either awake or asleep... but she still has herself.
Oswin may be lonely, but at least, she thinks, she's still human.
And though her genius is her most useful gift, her humanity is the one thing she treasures most.
~*~
The next day Oswin brings out the ingredients from the cupboards and the fridge (that she designed and built herself) and she begins the recipe all over again. She tweaks it, as always, trying to improve on what went wrong the day before, and the day before that.
The milk sits full and new on her counter, fresh, and stamped with an expiration date for two weeks.
She sets everything out in front of her and thinks of her mum, of when she used to stand behind her and rattle off the ingredients in order to mix.
Then, Oswin begins again.
Title: Treasured Routines
Author: Paynesgrey
Rated: G
Characters: Oswin Oswald, mention of the Daleks
Genre: Introspection/Genfic
Word Count: 620
Warnings/Spoilers: No warnings. Spoilers for "Asylum of the Daleks", the series 7 pilot.
Notes: Written for the "Treasures" theme for who_contest. Also used for the "thoughtfully" prompt for the Summer Mini Challenge.
Summary: Through it all, Oswin treasures her humanity the most.
Oswin pulls a forlorn souffle out of the oven, frowns, and sighs unhappily at another failed experiment. She does not know what she's doing wrong, but she's a genius, so she's confident she can someday get it right - and make a dish that she knows will make her mum proud.
She turns to the ingredients on the counter. The milk sits room temperature and almost empty, flour dusts the counter and stove-top, and she puts the bowl in the sink and begins to clean her used dishes.
She'll work on this recipe all over again - as always, and she's sure somehow, sometime, she'll make it perfect.
~*~
The music shrills in her head like a drowning scream. It's less comforting today, and Oswin purses her lips, glares at the door, and hates that the Daleks are quite persistent this time. They bang at the door, and she hears that cold, mechanical echo in her brain, scorching her every nerve.
She settles into her hammock, pulls the pillow over her ears, and closes her eyes.
She thinks of home, of successful souffles, and even of her first kiss.
Something to keep the endless chatter and threats away.
~*~
Oswin dreams in numbers. Cold, endless equations that sometimes scare her because she knows everything, all at once, instantly and without doubt.
When Oswin dreams of formulas, it feels as though she's losing a piece of herself. Her heart turns a little colder around the edges when she solves a new, difficult theorem or can devise another seemingly impossible way to hack into another Dalek firewall.
It's invigorating to be this smart. Her mum would be so proud of her. But more and more, day after day, the supposed and expected praise of humans no longer gives her comfort, even if she is so terribly alone.
Oswin being a genius - well, it's just something that is.
~*~
She schedules her endless days accordingly, and Oswin always has a plan, a routine. Like clockwork, she knows the exact time when the Daleks come for her, slamming into her door and trying to get into her sanctuary, always seeping their way into her head.
So she has a plan. At least once a day she makes a souffle, and she imagines the look on her mum's face when she presents the perfectly made dish.
And when some experiments fail, and some are barely mediocre, Oswin settles into her hammock, she stares at the ceiling and turns on her voice recorder. She scribes another letter to her mum, and she looks around at the room of her treasures, her sanctuary, and thoughtfully she reminds herself that she will be rescued. She's not that alone, and soon, someday, she won't be.
She will survive. The Daleks may continue to force themselves into her head, and she may continually try to push them out, either awake or asleep... but she still has herself.
Oswin may be lonely, but at least, she thinks, she's still human.
And though her genius is her most useful gift, her humanity is the one thing she treasures most.
~*~
The next day Oswin brings out the ingredients from the cupboards and the fridge (that she designed and built herself) and she begins the recipe all over again. She tweaks it, as always, trying to improve on what went wrong the day before, and the day before that.
The milk sits full and new on her counter, fresh, and stamped with an expiration date for two weeks.
She sets everything out in front of her and thinks of her mum, of when she used to stand behind her and rattle off the ingredients in order to mix.
Then, Oswin begins again.