Doctor Who - Constant Craving
Title: Constant Craving
Character: Donna Noble
Rating: Teen
Word Count: 553
Summary: It may not be easy living with the Time Lord side of you laying dormant, but then you could find it more fascinating then you'd think.
Author's Note: Yes, I was listening to K.d. Lang when this idea came to me. So I thought I'd look at Donna's new life a little differently to what I'm used to, with maybe a little something extra.
It’s not something she can easily explain, except to say that whenever she stops - just for a moment - she can feel it there. Now and then in her day to day life something happens and she realises it’s still there. The truth is it’s always there, and she’s certain she can’t remember a time it wasn’t, a lingering desire for something she can’t quite put into words. A constant craving that seems to have no basis.
She explains it, to the best of her ability, one night to her Grandfather. He’s the only one she can talk to. When she mentions odd feelings to her mother she senses a harsh chill settling in the atmosphere. But her Grandad listens and he tells her it will all be okay. Then they study the stars and talk about whatever comes to mind until she’s too tired to keep her eyes open, just as they’ve done since she was little.
But in the morning as she struggles through the mindless state between sleep and awake she experiences the strange longing again. A deep-seeded yearning for something yet a certain contentment in not having it. Almost as if whatever it was that she craved was not something that she necessarily needed and she didn’t mind not having it. Yet it didn’t change the fact that something inside her wanted whatever it was that seemed to be missing. Maybe one day it would make more sense. Then again maybe in the long run it didn’t need to.
It was strange though, the way it would just happen and the things she would do or say in those moments. While she couldn’t put it into words she took special care to recognise the moments when that unknown craving would overwhelm her. Every now and then she would discover another aspect of it that she just couldn’t explain, but she was happy to just let it happen. She wrote each instance down to record it for her own peace of mind, always careful never to leave her journal where it could be discovered. It was a book of things she couldn’t explain, a book of eccentricities that occasionally made her question her state of mind.
Like the fact that it made no difference what the genre was, any song about a river always managed to make her cry. When her friends moaned about the cloud of volcanic ash covering half of Europe and grounding all air traffic, she had a desperate need to make them understand it could be much worse. On a whim while buying a book for her Granddad she’d ordered the entire collection of works by Agatha Christie, though when reading a short description of her favourite character as a young woman she had a vague notion that Miss Marple hadn’t always been a redhead.
Then there were those things she made a point to try and avoid; weight loss ads always made her feel sick, she was incapable of relaxing at a spa, children in playgrounds were unnerving, and anyone saying the word ‘ice cream’ made a chill run the length of her spine.
And as she writes down the latest development spawned from that inexplicable craving, she realises that she also finds a strange comfort in the little blue book that holds all those secrets.
Character: Donna Noble
Rating: Teen
Word Count: 553
Summary: It may not be easy living with the Time Lord side of you laying dormant, but then you could find it more fascinating then you'd think.
Author's Note: Yes, I was listening to K.d. Lang when this idea came to me. So I thought I'd look at Donna's new life a little differently to what I'm used to, with maybe a little something extra.
It’s not something she can easily explain, except to say that whenever she stops - just for a moment - she can feel it there. Now and then in her day to day life something happens and she realises it’s still there. The truth is it’s always there, and she’s certain she can’t remember a time it wasn’t, a lingering desire for something she can’t quite put into words. A constant craving that seems to have no basis.
She explains it, to the best of her ability, one night to her Grandfather. He’s the only one she can talk to. When she mentions odd feelings to her mother she senses a harsh chill settling in the atmosphere. But her Grandad listens and he tells her it will all be okay. Then they study the stars and talk about whatever comes to mind until she’s too tired to keep her eyes open, just as they’ve done since she was little.
But in the morning as she struggles through the mindless state between sleep and awake she experiences the strange longing again. A deep-seeded yearning for something yet a certain contentment in not having it. Almost as if whatever it was that she craved was not something that she necessarily needed and she didn’t mind not having it. Yet it didn’t change the fact that something inside her wanted whatever it was that seemed to be missing. Maybe one day it would make more sense. Then again maybe in the long run it didn’t need to.
It was strange though, the way it would just happen and the things she would do or say in those moments. While she couldn’t put it into words she took special care to recognise the moments when that unknown craving would overwhelm her. Every now and then she would discover another aspect of it that she just couldn’t explain, but she was happy to just let it happen. She wrote each instance down to record it for her own peace of mind, always careful never to leave her journal where it could be discovered. It was a book of things she couldn’t explain, a book of eccentricities that occasionally made her question her state of mind.
Like the fact that it made no difference what the genre was, any song about a river always managed to make her cry. When her friends moaned about the cloud of volcanic ash covering half of Europe and grounding all air traffic, she had a desperate need to make them understand it could be much worse. On a whim while buying a book for her Granddad she’d ordered the entire collection of works by Agatha Christie, though when reading a short description of her favourite character as a young woman she had a vague notion that Miss Marple hadn’t always been a redhead.
Then there were those things she made a point to try and avoid; weight loss ads always made her feel sick, she was incapable of relaxing at a spa, children in playgrounds were unnerving, and anyone saying the word ‘ice cream’ made a chill run the length of her spine.
And as she writes down the latest development spawned from that inexplicable craving, she realises that she also finds a strange comfort in the little blue book that holds all those secrets.