(no subject)
Wolf Heart, Ten/Rose, pg
It's rather surreal actually, to realize the finite seconds of your life as they trickle past your fingertips., 2195
Note: Hello! I'm Claire. Finally decided after a while that I should stop lurking, and I thought this was a wonderful challenge to start on. This is based off of Rabbit Heart (Raise It Up) by Florence + the Machine. (Also sorry I'm having a few formatting issues.)
(i look around but i can't find you, if only i could see your face, i started rushing towards the skyline, i wish that i could just be brave)
-
She couldn't think of anything else to do but give in.
She rubs at her wrists as she's led down the well-used corridors by the guards, but it doesn't do much good against the rope-raw skin. She is ushered into what they tell her are to be her quarters for the duration of their journey, and the only semblance of an answer is the swish of the door as it slides shut. After a minute of studying the room, she realizes that the decorator must have been a bit clever. Everything looks horribly fancy at first glance, but in reality it's all either very used or made rather well from cheap materials. That is, excluding the pristine white and gold dress laid out on the dark red bedspread. She walks past it to sit on the window seat, her eyes fixed on the shrinking sight of her home planet. A tear drifts down her cheek as she rests her forehead on the window.
He isn't coming.
-
Bolts of colored light shoot out of their weapons and into the ground, churning up asphalt and concrete and dirt. People scream. The aliens look mostly humanoid, but masks reach from hairline to throat, leaving only their eyes uncovered.
She just wants it to stop. She wants everything to be okay, she doesn't want anyone else to die. She wants him to come and face this destruction like he always does, arms crossed and piercing blue eyes challenging the universe.
He isn't there.
-
Their planet is amazingly bright. Two suns hang in the noon sky, and there are no clouds floating in the turquoise sky. They seem to have chosen colors only in the pastel range, with an emphasis on blue.
They stand her in the middle of a stage, staring out at a screaming, cheering crowd, finally in the dress. It turns out that it's only their soldiers that wear masks, and their faces look generally human-ish, though their features have different, more angular twists and arches. The crowd is allowed to yell for a few minutes before their king steps forward and feeds them his spiel about the Great Wolf that has offered herself to them, the soon to come upswing of their civilization, and how her generous sacrifice will allow their prosperity.
She just hopes that everyone back home will be okay.
-
“There has to be something we can do!”
“And what's that?”
“Well, isn't he always the one that deals with these things?”
“He can't though!”
“And why not?”
“He's sick!”
“He'll be better soon, swee'heart.”
“Yeah, but....”
“But what?”
“He isn't the same, Mum.”
-
As much as she can't enjoy this stay due the rather undesirable and all too impending end result of it, she can't say that they haven't tried to make her comfortable. They've made sure to shower her with all of the best that they have to offer of accommodations, entertainment, and their culture, but she never smiles. It isn't just that slight undercurrent of fear that they all treat her to, or even the steep price of their hospitality. She was the one who stepped forward, who accepted their proposal, but her heart still aches that when it came down to it she was left on her own. She still isn't exactly sure why they decided that she was the Great Wolf of their folklore, but the only thing stronger than their military is their religion, and they had deemed her proper compensation for the Earth, meaning that home was safe and sound.
She wondered whether he was still lying in that bed back home, her mum fussing over his feverish form while mourning the loss of her daughter. She wondered whether he was getting better, and how he would mourn her when he finally woke up, much too late.
-
“There is something about you, child. The aura of the Golden hangs in your eyes.”
“Yeah, sorry if I don't know what you're talking about.”
“You are one of the Ancient Ones, are you not? Hailing from the now, and yet still fixed so firmly in both the long ago and the yet to come. Tell me, child, which one are you?”
“I'm not....”
“Give me your hand. Don't worry, I only look to see your identity. Your mind is safe.”
“Sorry if I don't exactly trust what you have-”
“The Wolf.”
“'scuse me?”
“You are the Great Wolf. I have to say that this changes quite a few things.”
“Like what?”
“Normally the value of this planet would be something that we would not give up easily, however.... The reward of freeing one of the Ancient Ones from their physical prison would be so much greater.”
“What are you saying?”
“We will leave your planet in peace if you give us your life.”
“What, so...if I let you kill me, you'll just go?”
“Exactly.”
“...Okay.”
-
She does not dance at their celebration. They have her sit in the center of their long table, in the place of honor. She swirls the deep red wine in her glass as she watches the people dance. They all think that her death will help them, that they can exchange her life for better versions of their own, and the ache of unfairness leaves a hole in her chest.
They dance and laugh and grin at the hope of their future, and all she wants to do is put her head down on the table and cry. She's already accepted that he's gone and as good as dead, only a memory in the dreams of an unfamiliar man. She wonders what would've happened if things had gone differently, if she weren't stuck so many miles away for the moment of his awakening. She wonders what stranger it is that he'll wake up to be, because he can't really be who he says he is, despite however many shared memories he might have. The man she knew risked everything to save her from the clutches of a Dalek fleet.
And she's still here.
-
She can't help crying.
“Mickey-”
“No, Rose, you can't do this.”
“Take care of my mum for me, will you?”
“Rose-”
“I have to do this.”
There are tears shining in his eyes too, on the brink of falling. He reaches to hug her and she lets him support her for these few moments before she'll have to do it herself.
“Goodbye Rose.”
“Bye Mickey. Tell my mum I love her, alright? And....tell him goodbye for me.”
-
It's going to be a knife.
It doesn't matter what they say about it, how they treat it, the thought of it makes her completely aware of every drop of blood in her body, and how it won't always be in her body. They have her on the stage again, but this time she isn't standing. They have her lying on a slab of stone while they go through the rest of the ceremony. She isn't really paying attention to any of it, because she'd much rather have these last minutes to herself rather than their ravings. It's rather surreal actually, to realize the finite seconds of your life as they trickle past your fingertips. They turn to her finally, and she adjusts the sleeve of the white and gold dress, not that the minute shift of fabric will matter when it's soaked red.
“And now, the Great Wolf shall be freed!”
She closes her eyes and uses her last wish to think if only she could see his face one last time.
-
Her heart beats faster in her chest.
They call her a wolf, but at this moment she feels more like a rabbit.
She steps forward.
-
“You really shouldn't do that.”
Her eyes snap open and everything else falls silent at the dark, almost threat-like statement. She can hear footsteps thud relatively softly against the wooden stage, coming closer until she can almost see his figure from the top of her vision.
“What is the meaning of this?” The king is still holding the knife between his hands as if he is about to plunge it into her heart, but it no longer hovers over her chest and she claims a ragged breath.
“Well, if you really want her to be free you could just, you know, untie her.”
“You would have her forever imprisoned in such a corporeal form? As a human?”
“That's just the thing though. Humans don't live forever. No one does. But that's why they're so brilliant! They never quite do what you expect them to either. You try to keep them safe, and they just go off and find better ways of killing themselves!” He steps forward then, close enough for her to see him now, though still upside down, and smiles at her. “Hello.”
She tries to give him a small smile in return, and replies quietly. “Hello.”
He turns back to address the king. “But you see, no matter how jeopardy friendly they might be, they are so full of life. Even if all they do is stay in one place doing the same thing day after day whether it's with everything or next to nothing, they can be happy. They live so much in the short space of time that they have and they are absolutely brilliant. You can't take that away from her.”
“But she is not truly human,” the king argues. “She is-”
“Yes, yes, I heard, great everlasting spirit stuck as a mere mortal. But what's the fun in living forever? You live long enough, you lose sight of why and you don't know how hard it is to find it again.” He glances down at her and back up, his voice harsher. “She showed it to me when all I could see was the dark. I died for her.”
The king purses his lips skeptically. “And yet you still breathe.”
“Because she's worth living for too.”
She looks up at his face, but his eyes don't meet hers.
“Let her go.”
There is a pause before the king answers. “I cannot. She dies for her planet. The blessings on my people-”
“The blessings will never come, not from her death. The people of Midas will never benefit from any of this that you're trying to do, because you don't know how to be happy.”
It is then that she speaks up. “Hope.”
“Excuse me?” the king asks, truly puzzled.
“You've been happy these last few days, 'cause you all had hope. Everyone thought that things were gonna get better. You finally had something to believe in,” she answers, still looking at the king to avoid the eyes directly above her. “You can make things better yourselves, s'long as you don't give up on it 'cause it's all fallen apart on you.”
She finally looks back up and their eyes lock. He doesn't look the same at all, but she can find that bit of familiarity in the changed features and these new eyes, now brown instead of blue, have that same look in them. A few long moments pass, and there's something deep inside her that says that he might truly still be the same man.
She breaks her gaze away to fix it on the king once again. “Please. Let me go alive.”
The king stands there a moment before he nods and the masked guards reluctantly step forward to untie her. She stands up, rubbing her wrists, and looks out at the crowd, now murmuring amongst themselves and looking up at her with a range of quiet, awed expressions on their faces. There's a hand on her arm, and he guides her off the stage. They don't stop walking until they reach the TARDIS.
“I thought you weren't coming.”
He looks over at her, surprised and, she thinks, maybe a bit hurt. “Of course I was coming. The TARDIS needed some repairs done before I could go anywhere, though. Had to make sure I could find the right galaxy and everything, and then there was the problem of regeneration sickness....” He trails off and neither of them say anything for a moment. “Rose?”
“Hmm?” She turns her head to face him now, just a bit afraid of what he's going to say.
“I'm sorry, for not coming sooner. I don't want to think about what would've happened if I had been any later. I should've-”
She interrupts him by turning fully and throwing her arms around his neck. After a moment he comes out of his surprise and hugs her back. They stand there, embracing for a few long minutes.
“Thank you, Doctor.”
“Any time, Rose.”
It's rather surreal actually, to realize the finite seconds of your life as they trickle past your fingertips., 2195
Note: Hello! I'm Claire. Finally decided after a while that I should stop lurking, and I thought this was a wonderful challenge to start on. This is based off of Rabbit Heart (Raise It Up) by Florence + the Machine. (Also sorry I'm having a few formatting issues.)
(i look around but i can't find you, if only i could see your face, i started rushing towards the skyline, i wish that i could just be brave)
-
She couldn't think of anything else to do but give in.
She rubs at her wrists as she's led down the well-used corridors by the guards, but it doesn't do much good against the rope-raw skin. She is ushered into what they tell her are to be her quarters for the duration of their journey, and the only semblance of an answer is the swish of the door as it slides shut. After a minute of studying the room, she realizes that the decorator must have been a bit clever. Everything looks horribly fancy at first glance, but in reality it's all either very used or made rather well from cheap materials. That is, excluding the pristine white and gold dress laid out on the dark red bedspread. She walks past it to sit on the window seat, her eyes fixed on the shrinking sight of her home planet. A tear drifts down her cheek as she rests her forehead on the window.
He isn't coming.
-
Bolts of colored light shoot out of their weapons and into the ground, churning up asphalt and concrete and dirt. People scream. The aliens look mostly humanoid, but masks reach from hairline to throat, leaving only their eyes uncovered.
She just wants it to stop. She wants everything to be okay, she doesn't want anyone else to die. She wants him to come and face this destruction like he always does, arms crossed and piercing blue eyes challenging the universe.
He isn't there.
-
Their planet is amazingly bright. Two suns hang in the noon sky, and there are no clouds floating in the turquoise sky. They seem to have chosen colors only in the pastel range, with an emphasis on blue.
They stand her in the middle of a stage, staring out at a screaming, cheering crowd, finally in the dress. It turns out that it's only their soldiers that wear masks, and their faces look generally human-ish, though their features have different, more angular twists and arches. The crowd is allowed to yell for a few minutes before their king steps forward and feeds them his spiel about the Great Wolf that has offered herself to them, the soon to come upswing of their civilization, and how her generous sacrifice will allow their prosperity.
She just hopes that everyone back home will be okay.
-
“There has to be something we can do!”
“And what's that?”
“Well, isn't he always the one that deals with these things?”
“He can't though!”
“And why not?”
“He's sick!”
“He'll be better soon, swee'heart.”
“Yeah, but....”
“But what?”
“He isn't the same, Mum.”
-
As much as she can't enjoy this stay due the rather undesirable and all too impending end result of it, she can't say that they haven't tried to make her comfortable. They've made sure to shower her with all of the best that they have to offer of accommodations, entertainment, and their culture, but she never smiles. It isn't just that slight undercurrent of fear that they all treat her to, or even the steep price of their hospitality. She was the one who stepped forward, who accepted their proposal, but her heart still aches that when it came down to it she was left on her own. She still isn't exactly sure why they decided that she was the Great Wolf of their folklore, but the only thing stronger than their military is their religion, and they had deemed her proper compensation for the Earth, meaning that home was safe and sound.
She wondered whether he was still lying in that bed back home, her mum fussing over his feverish form while mourning the loss of her daughter. She wondered whether he was getting better, and how he would mourn her when he finally woke up, much too late.
-
“There is something about you, child. The aura of the Golden hangs in your eyes.”
“Yeah, sorry if I don't know what you're talking about.”
“You are one of the Ancient Ones, are you not? Hailing from the now, and yet still fixed so firmly in both the long ago and the yet to come. Tell me, child, which one are you?”
“I'm not....”
“Give me your hand. Don't worry, I only look to see your identity. Your mind is safe.”
“Sorry if I don't exactly trust what you have-”
“The Wolf.”
“'scuse me?”
“You are the Great Wolf. I have to say that this changes quite a few things.”
“Like what?”
“Normally the value of this planet would be something that we would not give up easily, however.... The reward of freeing one of the Ancient Ones from their physical prison would be so much greater.”
“What are you saying?”
“We will leave your planet in peace if you give us your life.”
“What, so...if I let you kill me, you'll just go?”
“Exactly.”
“...Okay.”
-
She does not dance at their celebration. They have her sit in the center of their long table, in the place of honor. She swirls the deep red wine in her glass as she watches the people dance. They all think that her death will help them, that they can exchange her life for better versions of their own, and the ache of unfairness leaves a hole in her chest.
They dance and laugh and grin at the hope of their future, and all she wants to do is put her head down on the table and cry. She's already accepted that he's gone and as good as dead, only a memory in the dreams of an unfamiliar man. She wonders what would've happened if things had gone differently, if she weren't stuck so many miles away for the moment of his awakening. She wonders what stranger it is that he'll wake up to be, because he can't really be who he says he is, despite however many shared memories he might have. The man she knew risked everything to save her from the clutches of a Dalek fleet.
And she's still here.
-
She can't help crying.
“Mickey-”
“No, Rose, you can't do this.”
“Take care of my mum for me, will you?”
“Rose-”
“I have to do this.”
There are tears shining in his eyes too, on the brink of falling. He reaches to hug her and she lets him support her for these few moments before she'll have to do it herself.
“Goodbye Rose.”
“Bye Mickey. Tell my mum I love her, alright? And....tell him goodbye for me.”
-
It's going to be a knife.
It doesn't matter what they say about it, how they treat it, the thought of it makes her completely aware of every drop of blood in her body, and how it won't always be in her body. They have her on the stage again, but this time she isn't standing. They have her lying on a slab of stone while they go through the rest of the ceremony. She isn't really paying attention to any of it, because she'd much rather have these last minutes to herself rather than their ravings. It's rather surreal actually, to realize the finite seconds of your life as they trickle past your fingertips. They turn to her finally, and she adjusts the sleeve of the white and gold dress, not that the minute shift of fabric will matter when it's soaked red.
“And now, the Great Wolf shall be freed!”
She closes her eyes and uses her last wish to think if only she could see his face one last time.
-
Her heart beats faster in her chest.
They call her a wolf, but at this moment she feels more like a rabbit.
She steps forward.
-
“You really shouldn't do that.”
Her eyes snap open and everything else falls silent at the dark, almost threat-like statement. She can hear footsteps thud relatively softly against the wooden stage, coming closer until she can almost see his figure from the top of her vision.
“What is the meaning of this?” The king is still holding the knife between his hands as if he is about to plunge it into her heart, but it no longer hovers over her chest and she claims a ragged breath.
“Well, if you really want her to be free you could just, you know, untie her.”
“You would have her forever imprisoned in such a corporeal form? As a human?”
“That's just the thing though. Humans don't live forever. No one does. But that's why they're so brilliant! They never quite do what you expect them to either. You try to keep them safe, and they just go off and find better ways of killing themselves!” He steps forward then, close enough for her to see him now, though still upside down, and smiles at her. “Hello.”
She tries to give him a small smile in return, and replies quietly. “Hello.”
He turns back to address the king. “But you see, no matter how jeopardy friendly they might be, they are so full of life. Even if all they do is stay in one place doing the same thing day after day whether it's with everything or next to nothing, they can be happy. They live so much in the short space of time that they have and they are absolutely brilliant. You can't take that away from her.”
“But she is not truly human,” the king argues. “She is-”
“Yes, yes, I heard, great everlasting spirit stuck as a mere mortal. But what's the fun in living forever? You live long enough, you lose sight of why and you don't know how hard it is to find it again.” He glances down at her and back up, his voice harsher. “She showed it to me when all I could see was the dark. I died for her.”
The king purses his lips skeptically. “And yet you still breathe.”
“Because she's worth living for too.”
She looks up at his face, but his eyes don't meet hers.
“Let her go.”
There is a pause before the king answers. “I cannot. She dies for her planet. The blessings on my people-”
“The blessings will never come, not from her death. The people of Midas will never benefit from any of this that you're trying to do, because you don't know how to be happy.”
It is then that she speaks up. “Hope.”
“Excuse me?” the king asks, truly puzzled.
“You've been happy these last few days, 'cause you all had hope. Everyone thought that things were gonna get better. You finally had something to believe in,” she answers, still looking at the king to avoid the eyes directly above her. “You can make things better yourselves, s'long as you don't give up on it 'cause it's all fallen apart on you.”
She finally looks back up and their eyes lock. He doesn't look the same at all, but she can find that bit of familiarity in the changed features and these new eyes, now brown instead of blue, have that same look in them. A few long moments pass, and there's something deep inside her that says that he might truly still be the same man.
She breaks her gaze away to fix it on the king once again. “Please. Let me go alive.”
The king stands there a moment before he nods and the masked guards reluctantly step forward to untie her. She stands up, rubbing her wrists, and looks out at the crowd, now murmuring amongst themselves and looking up at her with a range of quiet, awed expressions on their faces. There's a hand on her arm, and he guides her off the stage. They don't stop walking until they reach the TARDIS.
“I thought you weren't coming.”
He looks over at her, surprised and, she thinks, maybe a bit hurt. “Of course I was coming. The TARDIS needed some repairs done before I could go anywhere, though. Had to make sure I could find the right galaxy and everything, and then there was the problem of regeneration sickness....” He trails off and neither of them say anything for a moment. “Rose?”
“Hmm?” She turns her head to face him now, just a bit afraid of what he's going to say.
“I'm sorry, for not coming sooner. I don't want to think about what would've happened if I had been any later. I should've-”
She interrupts him by turning fully and throwing her arms around his neck. After a moment he comes out of his surprise and hugs her back. They stand there, embracing for a few long minutes.
“Thank you, Doctor.”
“Any time, Rose.”