Fic: Amidst This Fading Light (6/?,PG)
Title: Amidst This Fading Light
Author: slpy650
Characters/Pairings: Ten/Rose, OC
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Doctor Who is the property of the BBC, not me.
Summary: Set after Tooth and Claw, the Doctor takes Rose to Galapose IV for some wine and relaxation, but their R&R quickly changes into a mystery when they find the planet completely empty and devoid of life. And what's worse, something sinister seems to be plaguing Rose...
Author's Note: If you're not already aware, quotes in italics are dialogue being communicated telepathically between characters. Fingers crossed this isn't too confusing.
Previous Chapters: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five
The wind on this planet was different. It was unpredictable, the way her dressed conformed to her legs, hugging them in gauze before suddenly billowing out again like a great sail. It made her feel naked and vulnerable.
It was colder here too. Damp evenings kept her inside like a prisoner, her only solace to huddle near the safety and comfort of the fire. A bitter homesickness had been creeping over her these past several months.
Once something she could shrug off, something she could turn around and forget, it was now a sharp, painful longing for something long gone, for something she could never have again.
In sleep she dreamt of walking through the night air, soaking in the heat of the earth that felt of childhood naivety, of possibility, of safety. But no matter how it began, the dream would always change.
The heat became unbearable, burning like a wildfire across the land. Pain and screams of a thousand minds inside her head. God, the screaming would never leave her.
Waking in a sweat, sheets cold and moist, and her stomach coiling in unnamable angst had become a regular part of her life.
It was a haunting homesickness; one that could never be sated.
The alien wind whipped at her now, and she pressed her thighs tight together, scrunching in on herself as she sat on the wooden step, hiding her chest from the unforgiving breeze.
Her finger traced nonsensically at the grain near her feet, her eyes barely seeing the intricate patterns of knots and lines. She was, however, painfully aware of the weighty necklace clutched like a lifeline in her hand.
Echoes of the past. Something she could never go back to.
That’s why she had to end it. And that’s why she couldn’t keep it.
The delicate, etched metals and carefully cut gemstone had grown hot in her grasp. She imagined it burning a hole through her palm, the flame starting like an ember before sparking, suddenly engulfing her whole body and consuming her until she was, mercifully, nothing but a pile of ash.
She could see Petra finding her, an ash pile soiling her step. The other woman would tut softly to herself about inconsiderate people or this or that. With a sweep of a broom, she’d become a part of the bitter wind itself.
No heat, no cold, no dreams to haunt her. No screams.
She could end up anywhere, everywhere. She would be an inconspicuous spec drifting in the air. Undetectable. She held the necklace harder, bracing herself for the inevitable spark that would ignite her.
But the only thing that came was another gust of wind, and she sighed as it hit her, releasing the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Her toes curled around the step, the skin a bright shade of pink.
Her eyes never left the wood under her feet, but she wasn’t surprised when a warm body suddenly sat itself next to her, scratchy cloth rubbing against her arm in a way that at once soothed and unnerved her.
The familiar yellow aura of Petra’s mind settled over her. It had always reminded her of golden toast, warm with melted butter, made her think of deep red sand and the hiss of insects hovering from flower to flower, dancing lazily among petals.
Muddy boots edged themselves near her bare, pink toes, but she resisted the urge to nudge the familiar black leather. She could feel Petra’s questions hanging above her like an executioner’s ax, but after a moment, she realized her friend wouldn’t demand an explanation for what must look like a mental breakdown.
Fear suddenly gripped her. Had she let her mental barriers slip? Had Petra been able to feel her internal struggles? The woman was if anything nosy, and the fact that she had not dropped that ax, had not bombarded her with questions, troubled Ava.
The weight of the necklace pulled harder at her, and she found it difficult to meet Petra’s eyes, as if the necklace had somehow grabbed a hold of her whole body and was tugging and dragging her down. Like a vast hole would suddenly open, a crack in the earth to swallow her in its depths. She -
“Ava?”
The spell was broken. The world seemed to right itself, shifting back into place. The earth was not going to swallow her whole; neither was she going to spontaneously burst into flames. She’d made her decision, and she had to follow through on it. She’d wasted years already wishing for things that could never happen. Useless.
Her backside felt numb; how long had she been sitting here? It was night now, the sun long since set. She shivered, goose bumps prickling her arms and legs. Her eyes stung, dry from the wind, and she closed them suddenly, rubbing them with the back of her hand. It looked as if she’d just woken from a peaceful sleep, refreshed if not still a little groggy.
She felt anything but.
The weight, the burn in Ava’s hands suddenly became urgent, and she turned to Petra, pressing the necklace into the other woman’s hands. Her eyes hovered at the woman’s bosom, still unable to look up those few extra inches.
She found herself engrossed in Petra’s dress, studying the simple needlework, the modest cut, the slightly frayed edge where she’d snagged it on some stick or thorn. It was worn but not ragged, the dress of someone who worked hard but was mindful of their appearance.
“What’s this?” Petra asked. She hadn’t pulled her hands back, hadn’t looked at what she’d been given. They sat still, holding each other like a living chain link fence.
Finally lifting her eyes, Ava met Petra’s gaze and swallowed.
“I want you to have it,” she said finally. She released Petra’s hands, her fingers brushing across rough calluses as she drew back. Petra never dropped her gaze, just sat looking solemnly at her, and Ava wished desperately that she wouldn’t.
“It was your mother’s,” Petra said.
Ava nodded.
“I can’t take this, Ava.”
Anger boiled inside her. Why couldn’t she just accept a gift like a normal person? Giggle and shriek and demand Ava help her put it on so she could go see how it looked on her?
But Petra had never been like that, like so many of her friends used to be. And now that she thought about it, Petra wearing it would be like a death sentence. The anger left as quickly as it’d come.
She hadn’t thought this through properly, true. But she’d made her decision. She didn’t have the courage to change it.
Whether or not Petra wore the necklace didn’t matter. She just had to have it. No one else.
“Just keep it for me. Keep it safe for me,” Ava said with a quick smile that felt strained. “I can’t bear to look at it. But I need to know it’s safe. With someone I can trust.”
There was a moment, just one brief moment when Ava thought Petra would seriously give it back. Absolutely refuse such a ‘gift.’ Petra wasn’t stupid.
She watched, fascinated by the familiar gems twinkling lightly against Petra’s grubby hand. It’d never occurred to her before now that it went beautifully with the older girl’s psyche, much more than it ever did with Ava’s. Golden, buttery toasted bread and the weight of yellow, glimmering stone.
Ava waited in apprehension for the necklace to be thrust back into her hands, to finally engulf her in flames, to pull her into darkness.
But Petra didn’t give it back. Without ever having given it a glance, she placed the necklace carefully into the pocket of her dress, patting it softly in reassurance. Looking up, Ava saw Petra smiling sadly at her, and she had a profound sense that this was it.
Her fear spurring her on, Ava gripped the woman in an incredibly tight hug. She could feel Petra’s surprise at the sudden movement and force of Ava’s love flooding her mind. All too quickly, Ava pulled back and stood up. The alien wind took the opportunity to blow her dress wide, and her thighs grew colder beneath the light gauze.
It seemed like she stood there for a long time, as still as a statue until Petra’s psyche finally pulled back, leaving Ava’s mind as cold as her body. She didn’t look at Petra again.
This was it.
Her mind was guarded as she gazed across the dark lawn.
No going back, not this time.
She was already walking away, eyes focused and hard when her mind finally reached out one more time, whispering lightly against the golden aura behind her.
“Goodbye, Petra."
Chapter Seven
Author: slpy650
Characters/Pairings: Ten/Rose, OC
Rating: PG
Disclaimer: Doctor Who is the property of the BBC, not me.
Summary: Set after Tooth and Claw, the Doctor takes Rose to Galapose IV for some wine and relaxation, but their R&R quickly changes into a mystery when they find the planet completely empty and devoid of life. And what's worse, something sinister seems to be plaguing Rose...
Author's Note: If you're not already aware, quotes in italics are dialogue being communicated telepathically between characters. Fingers crossed this isn't too confusing.
Previous Chapters: Chapter One, Chapter Two, Chapter Three, Chapter Four, Chapter Five
The wind on this planet was different. It was unpredictable, the way her dressed conformed to her legs, hugging them in gauze before suddenly billowing out again like a great sail. It made her feel naked and vulnerable.
It was colder here too. Damp evenings kept her inside like a prisoner, her only solace to huddle near the safety and comfort of the fire. A bitter homesickness had been creeping over her these past several months.
Once something she could shrug off, something she could turn around and forget, it was now a sharp, painful longing for something long gone, for something she could never have again.
In sleep she dreamt of walking through the night air, soaking in the heat of the earth that felt of childhood naivety, of possibility, of safety. But no matter how it began, the dream would always change.
The heat became unbearable, burning like a wildfire across the land. Pain and screams of a thousand minds inside her head. God, the screaming would never leave her.
Waking in a sweat, sheets cold and moist, and her stomach coiling in unnamable angst had become a regular part of her life.
It was a haunting homesickness; one that could never be sated.
The alien wind whipped at her now, and she pressed her thighs tight together, scrunching in on herself as she sat on the wooden step, hiding her chest from the unforgiving breeze.
Her finger traced nonsensically at the grain near her feet, her eyes barely seeing the intricate patterns of knots and lines. She was, however, painfully aware of the weighty necklace clutched like a lifeline in her hand.
Echoes of the past. Something she could never go back to.
That’s why she had to end it. And that’s why she couldn’t keep it.
The delicate, etched metals and carefully cut gemstone had grown hot in her grasp. She imagined it burning a hole through her palm, the flame starting like an ember before sparking, suddenly engulfing her whole body and consuming her until she was, mercifully, nothing but a pile of ash.
She could see Petra finding her, an ash pile soiling her step. The other woman would tut softly to herself about inconsiderate people or this or that. With a sweep of a broom, she’d become a part of the bitter wind itself.
No heat, no cold, no dreams to haunt her. No screams.
She could end up anywhere, everywhere. She would be an inconspicuous spec drifting in the air. Undetectable. She held the necklace harder, bracing herself for the inevitable spark that would ignite her.
But the only thing that came was another gust of wind, and she sighed as it hit her, releasing the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. Her toes curled around the step, the skin a bright shade of pink.
Her eyes never left the wood under her feet, but she wasn’t surprised when a warm body suddenly sat itself next to her, scratchy cloth rubbing against her arm in a way that at once soothed and unnerved her.
The familiar yellow aura of Petra’s mind settled over her. It had always reminded her of golden toast, warm with melted butter, made her think of deep red sand and the hiss of insects hovering from flower to flower, dancing lazily among petals.
Muddy boots edged themselves near her bare, pink toes, but she resisted the urge to nudge the familiar black leather. She could feel Petra’s questions hanging above her like an executioner’s ax, but after a moment, she realized her friend wouldn’t demand an explanation for what must look like a mental breakdown.
Fear suddenly gripped her. Had she let her mental barriers slip? Had Petra been able to feel her internal struggles? The woman was if anything nosy, and the fact that she had not dropped that ax, had not bombarded her with questions, troubled Ava.
The weight of the necklace pulled harder at her, and she found it difficult to meet Petra’s eyes, as if the necklace had somehow grabbed a hold of her whole body and was tugging and dragging her down. Like a vast hole would suddenly open, a crack in the earth to swallow her in its depths. She -
“Ava?”
The spell was broken. The world seemed to right itself, shifting back into place. The earth was not going to swallow her whole; neither was she going to spontaneously burst into flames. She’d made her decision, and she had to follow through on it. She’d wasted years already wishing for things that could never happen. Useless.
Her backside felt numb; how long had she been sitting here? It was night now, the sun long since set. She shivered, goose bumps prickling her arms and legs. Her eyes stung, dry from the wind, and she closed them suddenly, rubbing them with the back of her hand. It looked as if she’d just woken from a peaceful sleep, refreshed if not still a little groggy.
She felt anything but.
The weight, the burn in Ava’s hands suddenly became urgent, and she turned to Petra, pressing the necklace into the other woman’s hands. Her eyes hovered at the woman’s bosom, still unable to look up those few extra inches.
She found herself engrossed in Petra’s dress, studying the simple needlework, the modest cut, the slightly frayed edge where she’d snagged it on some stick or thorn. It was worn but not ragged, the dress of someone who worked hard but was mindful of their appearance.
“What’s this?” Petra asked. She hadn’t pulled her hands back, hadn’t looked at what she’d been given. They sat still, holding each other like a living chain link fence.
Finally lifting her eyes, Ava met Petra’s gaze and swallowed.
“I want you to have it,” she said finally. She released Petra’s hands, her fingers brushing across rough calluses as she drew back. Petra never dropped her gaze, just sat looking solemnly at her, and Ava wished desperately that she wouldn’t.
“It was your mother’s,” Petra said.
Ava nodded.
“I can’t take this, Ava.”
Anger boiled inside her. Why couldn’t she just accept a gift like a normal person? Giggle and shriek and demand Ava help her put it on so she could go see how it looked on her?
But Petra had never been like that, like so many of her friends used to be. And now that she thought about it, Petra wearing it would be like a death sentence. The anger left as quickly as it’d come.
She hadn’t thought this through properly, true. But she’d made her decision. She didn’t have the courage to change it.
Whether or not Petra wore the necklace didn’t matter. She just had to have it. No one else.
“Just keep it for me. Keep it safe for me,” Ava said with a quick smile that felt strained. “I can’t bear to look at it. But I need to know it’s safe. With someone I can trust.”
There was a moment, just one brief moment when Ava thought Petra would seriously give it back. Absolutely refuse such a ‘gift.’ Petra wasn’t stupid.
She watched, fascinated by the familiar gems twinkling lightly against Petra’s grubby hand. It’d never occurred to her before now that it went beautifully with the older girl’s psyche, much more than it ever did with Ava’s. Golden, buttery toasted bread and the weight of yellow, glimmering stone.
Ava waited in apprehension for the necklace to be thrust back into her hands, to finally engulf her in flames, to pull her into darkness.
But Petra didn’t give it back. Without ever having given it a glance, she placed the necklace carefully into the pocket of her dress, patting it softly in reassurance. Looking up, Ava saw Petra smiling sadly at her, and she had a profound sense that this was it.
Her fear spurring her on, Ava gripped the woman in an incredibly tight hug. She could feel Petra’s surprise at the sudden movement and force of Ava’s love flooding her mind. All too quickly, Ava pulled back and stood up. The alien wind took the opportunity to blow her dress wide, and her thighs grew colder beneath the light gauze.
It seemed like she stood there for a long time, as still as a statue until Petra’s psyche finally pulled back, leaving Ava’s mind as cold as her body. She didn’t look at Petra again.
This was it.
Her mind was guarded as she gazed across the dark lawn.
No going back, not this time.
She was already walking away, eyes focused and hard when her mind finally reached out one more time, whispering lightly against the golden aura behind her.
“Goodbye, Petra."
Chapter Seven