Doctor Who, Memories Trapped In Time (1/2), Amy and Rory, PG-13ish, Choose not to WarnbrynspikessNovember 4 2011, 05:16:43 UTC
because I suck at following directions - reposting with the correct subject info.
~*~
Amy has always been a little bit odd - it's one of the things that Rory loves about her. How she acts makes sense, perhaps not the normal kind of sense - but Rory has spent his entire life watching Amy and he knows how her mind works. So when he wakes up in the middle of the night and she's not there, he has a good idea of where to find her.
It's been a month since the Doctor said goodbye for the last time - even longer since they watched the Doctor die - and Rory thinks she's taking it well, all things considered.
The days go by so slowly compared to their time in the TARDIS, and Rory finds himself getting more tired as each day passes. He had gotten used to being always on guard, always prepared for the next disaster, and now that they're back to real life, Rory's been jumping at shadows and looking for aliens around every corner and it's exhausting. There's no emotional release, no 'We Survived!' rush of endorphins to keep him going, just day
( ... )
It started out as something out of the corner of their eye, but the more they look the worse it gets. They know it's not real, but they can't help but watch where they step.
Mini fill; weechesterscozy_coffeeApril 21 2015, 17:28:38 UTC
No, no, help me please; this monster is suffocating me. I turn my head to left, nobody in sight; I turn my head to the right, no monster in sight. Out of the corner of my eye I see a shadow light, and Sammy feels a tingle of fright. I try to be brave, I am the oldest, but I fear the cold touch of terror on this dark, dark night. Sammy sniffles, he cries; I raise my gun, praying we don’t die. A low growl in the throat and claws on the beast’s feet; I am afraid it is death I may meet. It is not real, it is not real, I recite, even as the monster comes closer, stalking my family in the cold winter night.
Cotard delusion (a.k.a. Cotard's syndrome a.k.a. Walking Corpse Syndrome): a disorder in which people believe that they are dead (either figuratively or literally), do not exist, are putrefying, or have lost their blood or internal organs.
[ 24 ; kate warner, jack bauer ] strawberry gashes (r for violence; spoilers for day two)sardonicynicOctober 30 2011, 05:07:39 UTC
Kate has bare seconds to be terrified.
Her knees meet the unforgiving hardwood of her foyer, and the muzzle of the gun is at the back of her head, digging into her scalp.
She doesn't have time to close her eyes.
The pressure disappears.
She blinks; her living room is still here - probably an image conjured by her dying brain.
Or what's left of it, anyway, wet red chunks sprayed across the hall, and pieces of her skull spotting the ivory wall. A few stray strands of blond hair cling in some spots, leaving scalpel-thin whorls of bloodied gray matter on the paint.
And Jack is here - again, and a hair-trigger too late, this time. Poor Jack, lowering his weapon, his eyes so sad. She'll never get to tell him how sorry she is that she couldn't help more, that she couldn't save the chip in time
( ... )
Comments 819
Reply
Reply
Reply
~*~
Amy has always been a little bit odd - it's one of the things that Rory loves about her. How she acts makes sense, perhaps not the normal kind of sense - but Rory has spent his entire life watching Amy and he knows how her mind works. So when he wakes up in the middle of the night and she's not there, he has a good idea of where to find her.
It's been a month since the Doctor said goodbye for the last time - even longer since they watched the Doctor die - and Rory thinks she's taking it well, all things considered.
The days go by so slowly compared to their time in the TARDIS, and Rory finds himself getting more tired as each day passes. He had gotten used to being always on guard, always prepared for the next disaster, and now that they're back to real life, Rory's been jumping at shadows and looking for aliens around every corner and it's exhausting. There's no emotional release, no 'We Survived!' rush of endorphins to keep him going, just day ( ... )
Reply
Reply
Reply
Reply
Her knees meet the unforgiving hardwood of her foyer, and the muzzle of the gun is at the back of her head, digging into her scalp.
She doesn't have time to close her eyes.
The pressure disappears.
She blinks; her living room is still here - probably an image conjured by her dying brain.
Or what's left of it, anyway, wet red chunks sprayed across the hall, and pieces of her skull spotting the ivory wall. A few stray strands of blond hair cling in some spots, leaving scalpel-thin whorls of bloodied gray matter on the paint.
And Jack is here - again, and a hair-trigger too late, this time. Poor Jack, lowering his weapon, his eyes so sad. She'll never get to tell him how sorry she is that she couldn't help more, that she couldn't save the chip in time ( ... )
Reply
Reply
(The comment has been removed)
Reply
SwornShe told him how she hated men ( ... )
Reply
(The comment has been removed)
Reply
Reply
Reply
Leave a comment