OS Prompt 1.12 - Time and Tide Wait For No Man
When the Doctor returned to Terminus, he expected to find Nyssa in one of its many laboratories, hard at work on perfecting a cure, or perhaps sitting beside a patient, clasping their hand and speaking gentle, sensible reassurance.
It was a very different place, he realised it the moment he stepped from his TARDIS into one of the winding corridors; it gleamed, but more than that, the distant voices held hope and determination, not despair or resignation. His steps echoed on the pristine floor as he wandered, occasionally happening upon a visitor. Terminus seemed to have proper rooms for patients now, and their families and friends had full access.
When he asked these strangers if they knew Nyssa, they would give him a strange look, and sometimes laughed. He took this to mean they didn't, and walked on, looking through the many doors as discreetly as possible. He found no trace of her until he found his way into the reception hall. He wasn't entirely sure what it had been once, but now it was bustling with concerned relatives, with the newly ill who were quickly taken away - for their safety and those of everyone around them.
It was a moment before he saw it. The flawless sculpture dominated the wall farthest from him, and he hurried forward, as quickly as he could without pushing anyone aside.
Her face was level with his, framed with delicately rendered curls that fell to shoulders covered in an elegant, modest gown.
She was as beautiful as marble as she had been in life.
He felt rather numb as he knelt to read the plaque she stood on, fingers tracing the words as his chest began to ache.
NYSSA OF TRAKEN
Saviour of Terminus
"There used to be more." The Doctor started, and looked up - an elderly man, one of the nurses it seemed, was looking down at him with an odd expression on his face; something like resigned mourning.
"Did there?" His voice sounded empty to his ears.
"Yes, but it was thin, shallow, faded away eventually." He knelt beside the Doctor, fingers ghosting over the marble much like his had done. There was reverence in his touch.
"This should never break, because of what they used, but…words can fade." He sighed, shaking his head.
"We never did understand what it meant. Who she was talking to." The Doctor stared at him, and the man must have seen the desperate yearning in his eyes because he went on, voice hushed as though for a funeral.
"'I told you I was indestructible.'"
It was a very different place, he realised it the moment he stepped from his TARDIS into one of the winding corridors; it gleamed, but more than that, the distant voices held hope and determination, not despair or resignation. His steps echoed on the pristine floor as he wandered, occasionally happening upon a visitor. Terminus seemed to have proper rooms for patients now, and their families and friends had full access.
When he asked these strangers if they knew Nyssa, they would give him a strange look, and sometimes laughed. He took this to mean they didn't, and walked on, looking through the many doors as discreetly as possible. He found no trace of her until he found his way into the reception hall. He wasn't entirely sure what it had been once, but now it was bustling with concerned relatives, with the newly ill who were quickly taken away - for their safety and those of everyone around them.
It was a moment before he saw it. The flawless sculpture dominated the wall farthest from him, and he hurried forward, as quickly as he could without pushing anyone aside.
Her face was level with his, framed with delicately rendered curls that fell to shoulders covered in an elegant, modest gown.
She was as beautiful as marble as she had been in life.
He felt rather numb as he knelt to read the plaque she stood on, fingers tracing the words as his chest began to ache.
NYSSA OF TRAKEN
Saviour of Terminus
"There used to be more." The Doctor started, and looked up - an elderly man, one of the nurses it seemed, was looking down at him with an odd expression on his face; something like resigned mourning.
"Did there?" His voice sounded empty to his ears.
"Yes, but it was thin, shallow, faded away eventually." He knelt beside the Doctor, fingers ghosting over the marble much like his had done. There was reverence in his touch.
"This should never break, because of what they used, but…words can fade." He sighed, shaking his head.
"We never did understand what it meant. Who she was talking to." The Doctor stared at him, and the man must have seen the desperate yearning in his eyes because he went on, voice hushed as though for a funeral.
"'I told you I was indestructible.'"