Blame Mils.
First of a trilogy of Doctor Who post-season 4 finale fics.
Um, it started with Rose and somehow digressed to the point where Rose has not been written yet.
Oh, and spoilers for "Journey's End." Oh, and I have no clue what I am doing yet.
Oh, and I'm updating my master list.
Oh, and, for those who actually know what is going on in this fandom (i.e. not me), where are good fic communities to post what will generally be gen fic? LOVE AND THANKS!
Did I mention I have no clue what I'm doing yet?
Dear me oh my...
Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who and I have no idea what I am doing yet. That makes me singular disclaimer ungrammatical…but I was just checking to see if you were paying attention.
Spoilers for the Series 4 Finale, Journey's End.
Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow
~ sciathan file ~
i. No Left Turn
Sometimes Donna Nobel dreamed.
Usually it was the same dream, coming on days when the telly blared nonsense about "aliens among us" and, exasperated, she flipped the channel over to anything else she could find.
But it was always the same dream, the same man, the same ridiculous words.
She always found herself in a shifting mechanical labyrinth - all cogs and gears and branching paths that went off to dark, murky places where she most definitely did not fancy going. She stayed in the parts that pulsated with a strange green-tinged glow. She felt as if she knew that glow somehow and, perhaps if she reached out to it, she could get to…something.
But that was all rubbish. Nothing that could possibly be associated with that daft green glow could have anything to do with someone like her, except in some dream that might possibly mean she was more than a bit mad.
But, looking at that light in her dreams, Donna always forgot, just for a moment, that she was an unemployed, unimportant temp from Chiswick. She was a bit more than herself - almost. But before she could remember precisely why, something always slithered through her, reminding herself she couldn't possibly have anything to do with this and urged her on.
The dream always ended the same way, too.
It was the last turn, the last turn to…something - what she didn't know and couldn't remember no matter how hard she tried - but the green light was the strongest here. Its radiance was only blocked by the shape of a thin man wearing a great coat and a suit. His eyes always watched her rather coldly and she had more than half a mind to ask him what she had done to deserve such a sour look from someone she hadn't met for more than five minutes. She didn't even remember his name, but he just stood there, hands in his pockets, just looking at her.
"There's no left turn."
This is what he always said.
Sometimes, if she had had a bad day, Donna shouted, "Oi! I wanna go in there!"
But the bloke would just shake his head, never taking his eyes off her, and say, "I'm sorry, Donna, but I can't let you."
Whenever she woke up, before the last vestiges of that dream faded, Donna tried to explain to herself why she always felt as if everything in her life somehow depended on that left turn. The dream never failed to make her feel out of sorts - as if the whole world had shifted around her without her permission or knowledge.
ii. Return to Sender
"So where are we expected to send it? 'John Smith, Blue Box, Somewhere-in-the-Bleedin'-Universe?'"
"Now calm down. It was just a suggestion, you know, that he might like to know she's okay and come to see her get married…again."
"Don't torture the man more than he has been. And there's Donna for that matter - you know what he said about…all that - best not to risk it."
"She was finally better."
"Donna is fine, just fine."
They lapsed into silence, the telly the only sound of speech in the room.
iii. Miles to Go
He came anyways, even without an invitation. He would like to have believed it was just chance that he had stepped out of the TARDIS on this date and this location. But he knew better.
He stood in the back, knowing he had better go before anyone noticed him. Especially the bride.
The vows were said and the couple withdrew. He was just about to file out with the crowd when her grandfather spotted him, nodding from where he was.
Deciding that it was now time to leave, the Doctor left the church, made a left turn to the small back alley where the TARDIS had landed, and disappeared.
Fin
A/N: Donna was insistent that she be written. Woot for having no idea what I am doing…this hasn't happened in a while!
... :0 Have some Daleks.
Um, it started with Rose and somehow digressed to the point where Rose has not been written yet.
Oh, and spoilers for "Journey's End." Oh, and I have no clue what I am doing yet.
Oh, and I'm updating my master list.
Oh, and, for those who actually know what is going on in this fandom (i.e. not me), where are good fic communities to post what will generally be gen fic? LOVE AND THANKS!
Did I mention I have no clue what I'm doing yet?
Dear me oh my...
Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who and I have no idea what I am doing yet. That makes me singular disclaimer ungrammatical…but I was just checking to see if you were paying attention.
Spoilers for the Series 4 Finale, Journey's End.
Tomorrow, and Tomorrow, and Tomorrow
~ sciathan file ~
i. No Left Turn
Sometimes Donna Nobel dreamed.
Usually it was the same dream, coming on days when the telly blared nonsense about "aliens among us" and, exasperated, she flipped the channel over to anything else she could find.
But it was always the same dream, the same man, the same ridiculous words.
She always found herself in a shifting mechanical labyrinth - all cogs and gears and branching paths that went off to dark, murky places where she most definitely did not fancy going. She stayed in the parts that pulsated with a strange green-tinged glow. She felt as if she knew that glow somehow and, perhaps if she reached out to it, she could get to…something.
But that was all rubbish. Nothing that could possibly be associated with that daft green glow could have anything to do with someone like her, except in some dream that might possibly mean she was more than a bit mad.
But, looking at that light in her dreams, Donna always forgot, just for a moment, that she was an unemployed, unimportant temp from Chiswick. She was a bit more than herself - almost. But before she could remember precisely why, something always slithered through her, reminding herself she couldn't possibly have anything to do with this and urged her on.
The dream always ended the same way, too.
It was the last turn, the last turn to…something - what she didn't know and couldn't remember no matter how hard she tried - but the green light was the strongest here. Its radiance was only blocked by the shape of a thin man wearing a great coat and a suit. His eyes always watched her rather coldly and she had more than half a mind to ask him what she had done to deserve such a sour look from someone she hadn't met for more than five minutes. She didn't even remember his name, but he just stood there, hands in his pockets, just looking at her.
"There's no left turn."
This is what he always said.
Sometimes, if she had had a bad day, Donna shouted, "Oi! I wanna go in there!"
But the bloke would just shake his head, never taking his eyes off her, and say, "I'm sorry, Donna, but I can't let you."
Whenever she woke up, before the last vestiges of that dream faded, Donna tried to explain to herself why she always felt as if everything in her life somehow depended on that left turn. The dream never failed to make her feel out of sorts - as if the whole world had shifted around her without her permission or knowledge.
ii. Return to Sender
"So where are we expected to send it? 'John Smith, Blue Box, Somewhere-in-the-Bleedin'-Universe?'"
"Now calm down. It was just a suggestion, you know, that he might like to know she's okay and come to see her get married…again."
"Don't torture the man more than he has been. And there's Donna for that matter - you know what he said about…all that - best not to risk it."
"She was finally better."
"Donna is fine, just fine."
They lapsed into silence, the telly the only sound of speech in the room.
iii. Miles to Go
He came anyways, even without an invitation. He would like to have believed it was just chance that he had stepped out of the TARDIS on this date and this location. But he knew better.
He stood in the back, knowing he had better go before anyone noticed him. Especially the bride.
The vows were said and the couple withdrew. He was just about to file out with the crowd when her grandfather spotted him, nodding from where he was.
Deciding that it was now time to leave, the Doctor left the church, made a left turn to the small back alley where the TARDIS had landed, and disappeared.
Fin
A/N: Donna was insistent that she be written. Woot for having no idea what I am doing…this hasn't happened in a while!
... :0 Have some Daleks.