Drabble XV: This Isn't Good-bye
... not really.
Word Count: 288
Rating: G
Characters: The Tenth Doctor
Warning: Spoilers for the End of Time part two.
Comments: joking said it was okay, but I'm still nervous about sharing this with other people. My first DW writan... ._. gyahhh so insecure about Ten's characterization here. Still, I'd like to close the word processor window get it posted and over with so that I can... idk. lol, get it out there? Derp. I guess I could say this was also beta'd by joking , all things considered.
This idea came to me today because joking and I were going to write snippets and smush them together and call it co-writing, but this was the only thing I got written today. I also was somewhat inspired when I rewatched both parts of EoT last night with my friends Matt and Kara -- and as Ten's face started glowing gold, I suddenly recognized that the melody of the Doctor's Theme was playing. And... It's always been my theory that in songs where there's that woman singing, that it's the TARDIS. I love the concept of the TARDIS singing, and of her having a song for her boy, and of her singing the sorrow of Doomsday, and... yeah. oweuroaiwehg anyway.
... I guess I could sort of call this therapy fic, too. I cried yesterday when I rewatched EoT. (Donna's wedding [shoving the lottery ticket down the front of her dress; "still no pockets!" yelled Kara, and I cried because that's how Ten and Donna started], "I don't wanna go," the Doctor's Theme). .___. gyahhh. so not ready for Eleven yet. ... but even though I was crying, Eleven still managed to make me laugh, and he sounds like an interesting character from what I've read, so. ... I think I'll like him. ... I just don't really feel ready for him yet.
ON WITH THE FIC.
.~.dw.~.
The universe is singing him to his sleep, and simultaneously he feels… everything. Grateful and bitter and comforted and … (lonely) everything.
The Ood song makes him think of Donna (she cried when she heard it), of Rose (trying so hard to be friendly) -- of everything he didn’t understand (I am the Sin and the fear and darkness), of everything he’d seen (Not even the Time Lords came this far), of everything he didn’t do (the Doctor must look at this planet and turn away in shame).
He’d never see them again. Any of them -- Planets, stars, (his) people. Oh, sure, he’d see them again -- The Doctor will live on, that’s for certain, but -- He’d never see them again. Not as him. Not as this tall skinny bloke, rude and not ginger.
Hey, there he goes. Maybe he’ll be ginger this time.
… But he can’t even bring himself to laugh, not when there’s that song playing in his head. Not when the universe is singing him to his death.
There’s another song, though -- A softer one, a familiar one, sung by a familiar voice, a voice that sounds like home. It’s floating there, just under the surface of the Ood‘s symphony, like a gentle golden whisper brushing against his mind. He knows what it is, and it makes his throat constrict. He knows it’s her, knows it’s his lullaby, his spirit song. My swan song, he thinks with dark humor, but the thought is softened by the golden voice of his girl.
His TARDIS is singing for him, singing his song just for him, and he isn’t alone.
Word Count: 288
Rating: G
Characters: The Tenth Doctor
Warning: Spoilers for the End of Time part two.
Comments: joking said it was okay, but I'm still nervous about sharing this with other people. My first DW writan... ._. gyahhh so insecure about Ten's characterization here. Still, I'd like to close the word processor window get it posted and over with so that I can... idk. lol, get it out there? Derp. I guess I could say this was also beta'd by joking , all things considered.
This idea came to me today because joking and I were going to write snippets and smush them together and call it co-writing, but this was the only thing I got written today. I also was somewhat inspired when I rewatched both parts of EoT last night with my friends Matt and Kara -- and as Ten's face started glowing gold, I suddenly recognized that the melody of the Doctor's Theme was playing. And... It's always been my theory that in songs where there's that woman singing, that it's the TARDIS. I love the concept of the TARDIS singing, and of her having a song for her boy, and of her singing the sorrow of Doomsday, and... yeah. oweuroaiwehg anyway.
... I guess I could sort of call this therapy fic, too. I cried yesterday when I rewatched EoT. (Donna's wedding [shoving the lottery ticket down the front of her dress; "still no pockets!" yelled Kara, and I cried because that's how Ten and Donna started], "I don't wanna go," the Doctor's Theme). .___. gyahhh. so not ready for Eleven yet. ... but even though I was crying, Eleven still managed to make me laugh, and he sounds like an interesting character from what I've read, so. ... I think I'll like him. ... I just don't really feel ready for him yet.
ON WITH THE FIC.
.~.dw.~.
The universe is singing him to his sleep, and simultaneously he feels… everything. Grateful and bitter and comforted and … (lonely) everything.
The Ood song makes him think of Donna (she cried when she heard it), of Rose (trying so hard to be friendly) -- of everything he didn’t understand (I am the Sin and the fear and darkness), of everything he’d seen (Not even the Time Lords came this far), of everything he didn’t do (the Doctor must look at this planet and turn away in shame).
He’d never see them again. Any of them -- Planets, stars, (his) people. Oh, sure, he’d see them again -- The Doctor will live on, that’s for certain, but -- He’d never see them again. Not as him. Not as this tall skinny bloke, rude and not ginger.
Hey, there he goes. Maybe he’ll be ginger this time.
… But he can’t even bring himself to laugh, not when there’s that song playing in his head. Not when the universe is singing him to his death.
There’s another song, though -- A softer one, a familiar one, sung by a familiar voice, a voice that sounds like home. It’s floating there, just under the surface of the Ood‘s symphony, like a gentle golden whisper brushing against his mind. He knows what it is, and it makes his throat constrict. He knows it’s her, knows it’s his lullaby, his spirit song. My swan song, he thinks with dark humor, but the thought is softened by the golden voice of his girl.
His TARDIS is singing for him, singing his song just for him, and he isn’t alone.