[ficlet] On the Other Side (Sirius, Rose, PG)
On the Other Side
Fandoms: Harry Potter, Doctor Who (current season)
Rating: PG
Characters/Ships: Sirius, Rose, Mickey/Jake (unless Rose is joking)
Summary: Supposedly, the Doctor made interdimensional travel impossible. How, then, did this mysterious man get here? And what's with the wooden stick he was carrying?
A/N: Approx. 1,000 words, but it's really just a scene I've been imagining all afternoon. Spoilers for "Doomsday."
ETA: You must read krabapple's Who So Loves Believes the Impossible (Metaphysical Gravity Remix). It's a wonderful expansion of my ficlet. Rose and Sirius work together to find their way home. So satisfying.
Cold.
More from exhaustion and hunger than the air around him. Sharp lighting picking at his lowered eyelids. It hurts, but it's worse when he tries to raise them. All his veins and arteries feel like slackened rope; he'd implode if his skin weren't drawn so tautly across his bones.
Voices.
A man saying, "I don't think he's an alien at all, actually." Something about the way he says certain words - fink for think, and ay-lien - wakens something in Sirius, but he continues to lie still. Listening. Waiting.
Now, a woman. "You sure?" She has the same accent.
"He likes tea."
"How do you know?"
"Jake was standing near him, and he was holding a cup of Darjeeling. His eyes - his, I mean - sort of flickered. He sort of smiled, too."
The woman laughs. "You were actually paying attention to him when Jake was in the room?"
"Shut up." Exasperated, rather than angered. "It's not like that with us."
"Oh, yeah? What's it like? Come on," she goes on after a silent beat, "if I can admit to fancying an alien, you can admit to-"
"Shut up."
They bicker, and Sirius's mind slips away again, into the rolling, oily darkness that's like sleep but for the lack of dreams and the fact that he does not replenish his strength.
When he comes to himself again, the light seems to be off, so he ventures to open his eyes. There's a spill of blond hair and a pair of round breasts mere inches from his face.
Sirius licks his lips, tries to speak. What comes out is a sound like sodden matchsticks snapping.
"Oh, hello." The woman pulls back, smiles.
The air stings Sirius's eyes, causing them to tear up. He can't lift a hand to wipe his face. He can't tell if his hands are bound to whatever he's lying on, or if he's simply too weak.
"There, there." The woman pulls a handkerchief from her pocket, dabs at his face. A wide, full-lipped mouth, very dark eyes. Not Sirius's idea of pretty, but then, he prefers blokes.
"Don't get too close, Rose." The male voice, the speaker outside Sirius's line of vision. "Blood tests aren't finished. We don't know what he is."
I'm a wizard, Sirius struggles to say. "Whizzz," is what Rose and the man probably hear.
"That some sort of alien?" the man asks suspiciously.
"None that I ever heard of," says Rose. "Mickey, I really think he's human."
"Humans don't just appear out of nowhere. That's what they said when they brought him in. Just appeared out of thin air, like he come from a parallel universe or something. And that's impossible now. And what about that stick that was with him? We know it's oak, but that's all."
"What about the tea?" Rose shoots back. "I thought you said you didn't think he was an alien."
"I did," says Mickey. "I do. I was just saying… We don't know for sure."
Rose leans close again. Her hair falls in his face; she smiles, tucks it behind her ear. "Can you understand us?" she asks gently. "Can you talk? It's all right, we're not going to hurt you."
Mickey's turn to laugh. "I love the way you assume everyone we meet can speak English."
Sirius sees Rose flinch. "It's not that," she says quietly. "The TARDIS translated… Guess I'm still used to that. Even after all this time." She blinks rapidly, though she's still smiling.
Sirius swallows hard, clears his throat of all the words that crammed there. Tries again. "I'm…" A wheeze, like wind through a punctured reed.
"Mickey, he's talking!"
"Oh, yeah?"
Mickey has a dark, round face, an unfriendly expression.
Sirius sucks air into his lungs, moves his lips so that when the breath comes back up, it's word-shaped. "I'm lost, I'm…"
"Mickey, he's from England!"
The world darkening, lashes tugging his eyes closed. He has to tell them. If they don't know where he's from and how he got here, they won't be able to get him back to where he belongs. "Fell through an archway…a veil… Don't know where I am but…" He can't hear his voice anymore, but he keeps trying. "I have to get back. Have to help Harry."
"Mickey, he's from London!"
As if he were a candle flame, the tumble of her breath extinguishes him.
When he wakes again he knows that he's not strapped to anything, and there is no intense light. He's in a bed; his head rests against a pillow, and there is a thin blanket drawn up to his shoulders.
Rose is sitting by him. Her hands are in her lap, her fingers twisted together. Excitement thrums through her like blood. Even lying half-asleep, Sirius can sense it.
"'Lo," he mumbles.
"I'm Rose Tyler."
He gives her a long look. Mickey hadn't recognized his wand. These are not wizards. Chances are, they don't know who he is. "Black," he says cautiously.
"That your first name or your last name?"
"Sirius," he says with an inward shrug. He's too confused, too tired to care.
"So, you're from London, then," Rose says in a breathy rush. "The other London, I mean. The one I'm really from."
Sirius scrubs at his face with stony knuckles. It hurts, but pain is a reminder that he's a live, and awake. "I don't know what you mean," he grunts.
"No, I suppose you don't." Rose clasps her hands, ducks her head in chagrin. "I've got some food if you're hungry. If you feel like you can eat. They had you hooked up, before."
He doesn't know what she means, and it must be obvious because she flushes.
"All right," Rose says. "I'll bring you some food and we'll talk. I think I know where you're from. I mean, I've got an idea. I think we're both from the same place. I don't know if it's even possible to get back, but… Well, there's something I never got to do."
Now Sirius is awake.
07/22/06
Fandoms: Harry Potter, Doctor Who (current season)
Rating: PG
Characters/Ships: Sirius, Rose, Mickey/Jake (unless Rose is joking)
Summary: Supposedly, the Doctor made interdimensional travel impossible. How, then, did this mysterious man get here? And what's with the wooden stick he was carrying?
A/N: Approx. 1,000 words, but it's really just a scene I've been imagining all afternoon. Spoilers for "Doomsday."
ETA: You must read krabapple's Who So Loves Believes the Impossible (Metaphysical Gravity Remix). It's a wonderful expansion of my ficlet. Rose and Sirius work together to find their way home. So satisfying.
Cold.
More from exhaustion and hunger than the air around him. Sharp lighting picking at his lowered eyelids. It hurts, but it's worse when he tries to raise them. All his veins and arteries feel like slackened rope; he'd implode if his skin weren't drawn so tautly across his bones.
Voices.
A man saying, "I don't think he's an alien at all, actually." Something about the way he says certain words - fink for think, and ay-lien - wakens something in Sirius, but he continues to lie still. Listening. Waiting.
Now, a woman. "You sure?" She has the same accent.
"He likes tea."
"How do you know?"
"Jake was standing near him, and he was holding a cup of Darjeeling. His eyes - his, I mean - sort of flickered. He sort of smiled, too."
The woman laughs. "You were actually paying attention to him when Jake was in the room?"
"Shut up." Exasperated, rather than angered. "It's not like that with us."
"Oh, yeah? What's it like? Come on," she goes on after a silent beat, "if I can admit to fancying an alien, you can admit to-"
"Shut up."
They bicker, and Sirius's mind slips away again, into the rolling, oily darkness that's like sleep but for the lack of dreams and the fact that he does not replenish his strength.
When he comes to himself again, the light seems to be off, so he ventures to open his eyes. There's a spill of blond hair and a pair of round breasts mere inches from his face.
Sirius licks his lips, tries to speak. What comes out is a sound like sodden matchsticks snapping.
"Oh, hello." The woman pulls back, smiles.
The air stings Sirius's eyes, causing them to tear up. He can't lift a hand to wipe his face. He can't tell if his hands are bound to whatever he's lying on, or if he's simply too weak.
"There, there." The woman pulls a handkerchief from her pocket, dabs at his face. A wide, full-lipped mouth, very dark eyes. Not Sirius's idea of pretty, but then, he prefers blokes.
"Don't get too close, Rose." The male voice, the speaker outside Sirius's line of vision. "Blood tests aren't finished. We don't know what he is."
I'm a wizard, Sirius struggles to say. "Whizzz," is what Rose and the man probably hear.
"That some sort of alien?" the man asks suspiciously.
"None that I ever heard of," says Rose. "Mickey, I really think he's human."
"Humans don't just appear out of nowhere. That's what they said when they brought him in. Just appeared out of thin air, like he come from a parallel universe or something. And that's impossible now. And what about that stick that was with him? We know it's oak, but that's all."
"What about the tea?" Rose shoots back. "I thought you said you didn't think he was an alien."
"I did," says Mickey. "I do. I was just saying… We don't know for sure."
Rose leans close again. Her hair falls in his face; she smiles, tucks it behind her ear. "Can you understand us?" she asks gently. "Can you talk? It's all right, we're not going to hurt you."
Mickey's turn to laugh. "I love the way you assume everyone we meet can speak English."
Sirius sees Rose flinch. "It's not that," she says quietly. "The TARDIS translated… Guess I'm still used to that. Even after all this time." She blinks rapidly, though she's still smiling.
Sirius swallows hard, clears his throat of all the words that crammed there. Tries again. "I'm…" A wheeze, like wind through a punctured reed.
"Mickey, he's talking!"
"Oh, yeah?"
Mickey has a dark, round face, an unfriendly expression.
Sirius sucks air into his lungs, moves his lips so that when the breath comes back up, it's word-shaped. "I'm lost, I'm…"
"Mickey, he's from England!"
The world darkening, lashes tugging his eyes closed. He has to tell them. If they don't know where he's from and how he got here, they won't be able to get him back to where he belongs. "Fell through an archway…a veil… Don't know where I am but…" He can't hear his voice anymore, but he keeps trying. "I have to get back. Have to help Harry."
"Mickey, he's from London!"
As if he were a candle flame, the tumble of her breath extinguishes him.
When he wakes again he knows that he's not strapped to anything, and there is no intense light. He's in a bed; his head rests against a pillow, and there is a thin blanket drawn up to his shoulders.
Rose is sitting by him. Her hands are in her lap, her fingers twisted together. Excitement thrums through her like blood. Even lying half-asleep, Sirius can sense it.
"'Lo," he mumbles.
"I'm Rose Tyler."
He gives her a long look. Mickey hadn't recognized his wand. These are not wizards. Chances are, they don't know who he is. "Black," he says cautiously.
"That your first name or your last name?"
"Sirius," he says with an inward shrug. He's too confused, too tired to care.
"So, you're from London, then," Rose says in a breathy rush. "The other London, I mean. The one I'm really from."
Sirius scrubs at his face with stony knuckles. It hurts, but pain is a reminder that he's a live, and awake. "I don't know what you mean," he grunts.
"No, I suppose you don't." Rose clasps her hands, ducks her head in chagrin. "I've got some food if you're hungry. If you feel like you can eat. They had you hooked up, before."
He doesn't know what she means, and it must be obvious because she flushes.
"All right," Rose says. "I'll bring you some food and we'll talk. I think I know where you're from. I mean, I've got an idea. I think we're both from the same place. I don't know if it's even possible to get back, but… Well, there's something I never got to do."
Now Sirius is awake.
07/22/06