[on_thecouch] - Fear of the Dark
Lucy wriggled her toes in the water, giggling at the feel of the pond fish that dared come close enough to touch her, wondering what the commotion was all about -- and if it might, perhaps, be food. They were all different colours and sizes, splashes of red and orange and yellow and blue beneath the surface as they darted in with their puckered mouths, brushing against her feet, tickling the sensitive flesh.
It felt like a day at the park when she was younger, save the sky overhead was the most vibrant magenta and the landscape marred by war scars, the purple grass blasted away, leaving behind nothing but pockmarked earth.
Harry said it was from the Auton attack, but she'd never had a chance to even see any of the fighting, tucked safely away inside the TARDIS while her husband and the Doctor went about destroying the animated plastic creatures -- rather gleefully, from the way Harry described it. And they would have left without her ever seeing any of it had she not insisted she be allowed outside the Doctor's machine, desperate for her chance to visit one of the many alien planets they'd travelled to, wanting nothing more than to experience the universe as her husband and that man did on a daily basis. She'd been forced to stay in the TARDIS for so long, suffering inside the stuffy ship alone, it was enough to drive her mad -- or worse. Her mind had never been the same since the drums, after all, but insanity was a state with which she was familiar. Being alone, abandoned, solitary ... that was a fate more terrifying than any madness could bring.
The Doctor had argued, of course. He always argued when it came to her. It was too dangerous, he'd say. What if an Auton somehow survived and attacked, he'd say. They didn't have time for her to go sightseeing, he'd say. It was the same thing he said every time and Harry had generally been agreeable, shushing Lucy's protests and telling her how dreadful it would be if she were harmed. He didn't like seeing her hurt, after all. She should just stay in the TARDIS and they could visit another planet another time when they weren't so busy.
She wasn't sure what changed this time or why he took her hand firmly in his, but Lucy followed her husband without protest from the TARDIS as he led her out into the devastated capital, stepping carefully over debris and refuse. They walked together through the broken remnants of buildings -- a once-fine shoppe, he said, a granary, and here, a castle -- stopping finally at the small pond just outside a destroyed cathedral.
Lucy was surprised to even see the fish in the water but the Master shook his head and nodded back toward the TARDIS. A sentimental notion by the Doctor, he said. Nothing more, nothing less. This city was utterly destroyed, wildlife and all. But these fish thrived on ash and soot and silt in the water and the Doctor had to pretend he could win. It was foolish and pointless, yes, but the other Time Lord had never been known for much else. Still, it offered a bright splash of colour among the grey and Lucy found herself enjoying the feel of the water, the fish nipping at her flesh, and they remained at the pond as the sun began to set on the horizon.
"Come," he said -- commanded -- and Lucy stood, hand clasped firmly in his as he led her back the way they'd come, through the debris and piles of stone, stopping only when they reached the gutted castle. He led her inside, beneath crumbling archways and dislodged cornerstones, stepping gingerly over shattered rafters until they stood in the centre of a cracked marble floor, red light painting the dust in blood.
He didn't speak. He didn't have to. He simply took her hands in his, guiding her into the steps she knew by heart, leading her casually across the uneven ground, careful to make sure he didn't take her over any cracks large enough to catch her heels or make her stumble. Lucy smiled brilliantly at him, closing her eyes against the waning light, and let herself move with him, let him guide her and lead her and take her where he would, safe and comfortable in his arms as they danced among the broken and the dead to the sound of drums.
Muse: Lucy Saxon
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 747
Prompt: "Loneliness is just about the scariest thing out there" - Joss Whedon
Verse: realityshifted
It felt like a day at the park when she was younger, save the sky overhead was the most vibrant magenta and the landscape marred by war scars, the purple grass blasted away, leaving behind nothing but pockmarked earth.
Harry said it was from the Auton attack, but she'd never had a chance to even see any of the fighting, tucked safely away inside the TARDIS while her husband and the Doctor went about destroying the animated plastic creatures -- rather gleefully, from the way Harry described it. And they would have left without her ever seeing any of it had she not insisted she be allowed outside the Doctor's machine, desperate for her chance to visit one of the many alien planets they'd travelled to, wanting nothing more than to experience the universe as her husband and that man did on a daily basis. She'd been forced to stay in the TARDIS for so long, suffering inside the stuffy ship alone, it was enough to drive her mad -- or worse. Her mind had never been the same since the drums, after all, but insanity was a state with which she was familiar. Being alone, abandoned, solitary ... that was a fate more terrifying than any madness could bring.
The Doctor had argued, of course. He always argued when it came to her. It was too dangerous, he'd say. What if an Auton somehow survived and attacked, he'd say. They didn't have time for her to go sightseeing, he'd say. It was the same thing he said every time and Harry had generally been agreeable, shushing Lucy's protests and telling her how dreadful it would be if she were harmed. He didn't like seeing her hurt, after all. She should just stay in the TARDIS and they could visit another planet another time when they weren't so busy.
She wasn't sure what changed this time or why he took her hand firmly in his, but Lucy followed her husband without protest from the TARDIS as he led her out into the devastated capital, stepping carefully over debris and refuse. They walked together through the broken remnants of buildings -- a once-fine shoppe, he said, a granary, and here, a castle -- stopping finally at the small pond just outside a destroyed cathedral.
Lucy was surprised to even see the fish in the water but the Master shook his head and nodded back toward the TARDIS. A sentimental notion by the Doctor, he said. Nothing more, nothing less. This city was utterly destroyed, wildlife and all. But these fish thrived on ash and soot and silt in the water and the Doctor had to pretend he could win. It was foolish and pointless, yes, but the other Time Lord had never been known for much else. Still, it offered a bright splash of colour among the grey and Lucy found herself enjoying the feel of the water, the fish nipping at her flesh, and they remained at the pond as the sun began to set on the horizon.
"Come," he said -- commanded -- and Lucy stood, hand clasped firmly in his as he led her back the way they'd come, through the debris and piles of stone, stopping only when they reached the gutted castle. He led her inside, beneath crumbling archways and dislodged cornerstones, stepping gingerly over shattered rafters until they stood in the centre of a cracked marble floor, red light painting the dust in blood.
He didn't speak. He didn't have to. He simply took her hands in his, guiding her into the steps she knew by heart, leading her casually across the uneven ground, careful to make sure he didn't take her over any cracks large enough to catch her heels or make her stumble. Lucy smiled brilliantly at him, closing her eyes against the waning light, and let herself move with him, let him guide her and lead her and take her where he would, safe and comfortable in his arms as they danced among the broken and the dead to the sound of drums.
Muse: Lucy Saxon
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 747
Prompt: "Loneliness is just about the scariest thing out there" - Joss Whedon
Verse: realityshifted