Ephemera, Part One
Title: Ephemera, Part One
Rating: R
Characters/pairings: Ten, Donna, O/C
Warnings/spoilers: Through series four, just to be safe. Warnings for violence and disturbing images, for this chapter.
Author's Notes: Here's an idea that's been brewing in my mind for some time. I've wrestled with writing it, because it would be such an enormous project, but in the end, it won out. Already it's evolving into something completely different than I originally thought it would be. This started out as an O/C story in my head, but said O/C is being quite stubborn about her identity. It should become obvious after awhile if it's not already. But, fair warning, this is VERY AU.
This is darker than anything I've written in this fandom before, which isn't saying much, I know, because I've not really written all that much. But, to give warning, it is dark and disturbing in many places.
And, this is my first time writing Donna, so hopefully I've done her justice!
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She was screaming.
At least, that was what she would be doing if there were oxygen, if she had lungs and vocal cords and a voice. Her mind fractured, split, tore apart and struggled to re-knit itself like her body, but she could remember nothing, knew nothing but the present, but herself, whomever she was, trapped in this hellish place. Was it hell? She found herself wondering what hell was, why such a concept would occur to her when she could not fathom its meaning. It was a mere abstraction before this place, she somehow knew, a mythology and speculation. Here, she had no form, though for reasons unknown her form constantly struggled to re-structure itself. She had no form because there was no dimension, no space or time, no gravity or direction or orientation or matter. Even her thoughts were compressed, crushed, memory obliterated, as only a last, fiercely determined shred of consciousness clung to being.
Somewhere within that last tatter of awareness, she became cognizant of a faint shimmer, a glint of... what was the word? Words had no meaning here. Concepts had no meaning. But here it was, a Something in an infinity of Nothing.
Light.
She reached for it with a hand that fought to re-form flesh, bone, blood, and sinew. The shattered remnants of her mind seized onto that one Something, clinging with a feral intensity that would not be denied.
Light Light Light Light Light.......
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Donna Noble adjusted her sunglasses-- which, technically, she didn't need, as the sky was nearly boiling with clouds-- and stretched back to watch the ocean become more and more agitated with the building wind. She put a hand firmly on her huge, floppy, straw hat to keep it from blowing away, and glared at the Doctor. He was some kilometers away, fully armored in his blue pinstriped suit, ankle length duster, and red trainers, and was rather manically consulting some device that Donna didn't even want to try to identify. He moved back and forth on quick feet, holding the device in front of himself before swinging it to the side suddenly and taking a few rapid steps in that direction, and then freezing in place, waving the device around, and spinning to walk in the opposite direction.
A beach, he had told her. Well, it was a beach. She raised her head to the sky with a frown. A beach on the razor edge of monsoon season. She sighed as a huge drop of water plopped directly onto her nose. Oh, that's just wizard, she thought, ducking her head and swiping the offending droplet away with a finger. Why do I get the feeling the Spaceman neglected to mention a few pertinent details about this beach trip?
She stood, brushing the wind-whipped sand from her person, before walking towards her friend. When she was close enough that she thought her voice might be reasonably heard over the wind, she bellowed his name, and he spun on his heel and looked at her. “Blimey! The day you stop trying to get my attention by shouting at me will be the day I know you've been replaced by a rather poorly constructed clone.”
“Oi! Doctor.” She crossed her arms. “Is there a reason you've landed us in the middle of a blooming typhoon?”
He blinked at her owlishly through his thick-framed glasses, which she was suspicious he didn't need but only wore for show. “Donna,” he said with a tone that she was sure he thought was meant to be soothing, “This isn't the middle of a typhoon. More like... the beginning of one.” He glanced down and pushed several buttons with his thumbs on the device, which looked something like a personal cd player with a lot of looping wires and flashy lights. “There now-- oh, look!” His eyes grew wide as all the lights flared to life at once, and the device gave a series of musical beeps.
“Will you just tell me why we're here?” Donna sighed, now close enough to be heard without shouting (which she DIDN'T always do to get his attention, thank you very much). Lightning slammed into the ground nearby, far too close for comfort, rattling her very bones. She jumped and then grabbed his arm. “Doctor! I don't know about you, but I for one would rather not get struck by lightning!”
“Well no, I wouldn't think you would,” he murmured distractedly as the device flickered and beeped again. “There's something going on here, Donna. This isn't monsoon season, you know. This storm-- it's not natural.”
“What do you mean, not natural? What's happening?”
He looked at her full on for a moment, his expression dark and inscrutable, then spun on his heel and pointed the device before him. “Haven't the foggiest!”
She moved up beside him, peering at the gizmo. “What are those readings you're taking? You're taking some sort of readings, obviously. What are they?”
“Ohhhh...” he gave a little half-shrug, quirking his head to one side. “You know, the usual. Energy and particle readings to detect the presence of a Euclidean wormhole. Ooh!” Again, the device flashed to life and warbled noisily.
Lightning split the air again, this time over the water, and Donna pulled her mesh coverup more tightly around her shoulders, her ears ringing from the sound. She glanced back and saw that the towel she had been sitting on had long since tumbled away. “Well, whatever you're doing, will you please hurry?”
He had his sonic screwdriver out, his face scrunched into a mask of intense concentration as he buzzed the device. “If I can just adjust the calibrations on this thing. It's not zeroing in on the source...” The device gave a painful squeal and the Doctor growled, “No, no, no, no, no....”
For some inexplicable reason, Donna turned her head and looked behind her. She couldn't say why she did so, and in fact it was not the result of any conscious thought or desire, yet the compulsion to turn her head was powerful and undeniable.
That was when she saw the body.
It was lying face down at the edge of the water, shifting with the sand as the increasingly violent waves began to reach it.
It had not been there before. She was certain of this.
She clutched at the Doctor's arm as he continued to prod at the annoying little gadget. “Doctor!” She released his arm and moved quickly towards the limp figure as the Doctor turned to see what had caught her attention. Then he was striding after her, calibrations all but forgotten.
As she neared the body, close enough to begin to make out details, she felt her stomach turn. The figure seemed half decayed. She covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh, my God.”
The Doctor did not slow his approach, but crouched down by the form in the sand, carefully turning it face up. Fighting to steel herself, Donna moved closer, readying herself to help if necessary, though she was fairly certain that the poor soul, whoever it was, was well beyond help.
As she neared, a low, rippling moan floated up to hear ears. She caught her breath.
“She's still alive,” the Doctor said grimly, as he scanned her with his screwdriver. Whatever readings he saw on the thing caused his brow to furrow deeply.
Donna knelt by the body as well, reaching a hand out to try to comfort but uncertain whether touching would cause more pain. “There now,” she soothed. “You'll be all right, love. You're goin' to be just fine. The Doctor will fix you up.” She bit into her lower lip before saying softly, “Doctor, she wasn't here before. Where did she come from? Did she wash up from the sea?”
“No.”
She looked down at the body. Oddly, she could now tell that it-- she-- was female. The girl... woman... was stripped of flesh and even muscle on some portions of her body, but on others, a pale, velvety looking skin gleamed. Healthy looking skin. Donna touched the soft white skin on the woman's cheek, and felt her lean into her palm as though craving contact. She swallowed hard against a rapidly swelling lump in her throat as she gently brushed her fingers over the woman's cheek.
“What happened to her, Doctor?”
He gently pulled the motionless figure into his arms, his face a stone mask. He stood in one smooth motion as though the burden in his arms weighed nothing, and moved towards the TARDIS, which jutted from a nearby hilltop, silhouetted like an obelisk in the gathering gloom. “We need to get her to the med lab. Come on.”
Rating: R
Characters/pairings: Ten, Donna, O/C
Warnings/spoilers: Through series four, just to be safe. Warnings for violence and disturbing images, for this chapter.
Author's Notes: Here's an idea that's been brewing in my mind for some time. I've wrestled with writing it, because it would be such an enormous project, but in the end, it won out. Already it's evolving into something completely different than I originally thought it would be. This started out as an O/C story in my head, but said O/C is being quite stubborn about her identity. It should become obvious after awhile if it's not already. But, fair warning, this is VERY AU.
This is darker than anything I've written in this fandom before, which isn't saying much, I know, because I've not really written all that much. But, to give warning, it is dark and disturbing in many places.
And, this is my first time writing Donna, so hopefully I've done her justice!
-----@@@@@@@@@@@-----
She was screaming.
At least, that was what she would be doing if there were oxygen, if she had lungs and vocal cords and a voice. Her mind fractured, split, tore apart and struggled to re-knit itself like her body, but she could remember nothing, knew nothing but the present, but herself, whomever she was, trapped in this hellish place. Was it hell? She found herself wondering what hell was, why such a concept would occur to her when she could not fathom its meaning. It was a mere abstraction before this place, she somehow knew, a mythology and speculation. Here, she had no form, though for reasons unknown her form constantly struggled to re-structure itself. She had no form because there was no dimension, no space or time, no gravity or direction or orientation or matter. Even her thoughts were compressed, crushed, memory obliterated, as only a last, fiercely determined shred of consciousness clung to being.
Somewhere within that last tatter of awareness, she became cognizant of a faint shimmer, a glint of... what was the word? Words had no meaning here. Concepts had no meaning. But here it was, a Something in an infinity of Nothing.
Light.
She reached for it with a hand that fought to re-form flesh, bone, blood, and sinew. The shattered remnants of her mind seized onto that one Something, clinging with a feral intensity that would not be denied.
Light Light Light Light Light.......
-----@@@@@@@@@@@-----
Donna Noble adjusted her sunglasses-- which, technically, she didn't need, as the sky was nearly boiling with clouds-- and stretched back to watch the ocean become more and more agitated with the building wind. She put a hand firmly on her huge, floppy, straw hat to keep it from blowing away, and glared at the Doctor. He was some kilometers away, fully armored in his blue pinstriped suit, ankle length duster, and red trainers, and was rather manically consulting some device that Donna didn't even want to try to identify. He moved back and forth on quick feet, holding the device in front of himself before swinging it to the side suddenly and taking a few rapid steps in that direction, and then freezing in place, waving the device around, and spinning to walk in the opposite direction.
A beach, he had told her. Well, it was a beach. She raised her head to the sky with a frown. A beach on the razor edge of monsoon season. She sighed as a huge drop of water plopped directly onto her nose. Oh, that's just wizard, she thought, ducking her head and swiping the offending droplet away with a finger. Why do I get the feeling the Spaceman neglected to mention a few pertinent details about this beach trip?
She stood, brushing the wind-whipped sand from her person, before walking towards her friend. When she was close enough that she thought her voice might be reasonably heard over the wind, she bellowed his name, and he spun on his heel and looked at her. “Blimey! The day you stop trying to get my attention by shouting at me will be the day I know you've been replaced by a rather poorly constructed clone.”
“Oi! Doctor.” She crossed her arms. “Is there a reason you've landed us in the middle of a blooming typhoon?”
He blinked at her owlishly through his thick-framed glasses, which she was suspicious he didn't need but only wore for show. “Donna,” he said with a tone that she was sure he thought was meant to be soothing, “This isn't the middle of a typhoon. More like... the beginning of one.” He glanced down and pushed several buttons with his thumbs on the device, which looked something like a personal cd player with a lot of looping wires and flashy lights. “There now-- oh, look!” His eyes grew wide as all the lights flared to life at once, and the device gave a series of musical beeps.
“Will you just tell me why we're here?” Donna sighed, now close enough to be heard without shouting (which she DIDN'T always do to get his attention, thank you very much). Lightning slammed into the ground nearby, far too close for comfort, rattling her very bones. She jumped and then grabbed his arm. “Doctor! I don't know about you, but I for one would rather not get struck by lightning!”
“Well no, I wouldn't think you would,” he murmured distractedly as the device flickered and beeped again. “There's something going on here, Donna. This isn't monsoon season, you know. This storm-- it's not natural.”
“What do you mean, not natural? What's happening?”
He looked at her full on for a moment, his expression dark and inscrutable, then spun on his heel and pointed the device before him. “Haven't the foggiest!”
She moved up beside him, peering at the gizmo. “What are those readings you're taking? You're taking some sort of readings, obviously. What are they?”
“Ohhhh...” he gave a little half-shrug, quirking his head to one side. “You know, the usual. Energy and particle readings to detect the presence of a Euclidean wormhole. Ooh!” Again, the device flashed to life and warbled noisily.
Lightning split the air again, this time over the water, and Donna pulled her mesh coverup more tightly around her shoulders, her ears ringing from the sound. She glanced back and saw that the towel she had been sitting on had long since tumbled away. “Well, whatever you're doing, will you please hurry?”
He had his sonic screwdriver out, his face scrunched into a mask of intense concentration as he buzzed the device. “If I can just adjust the calibrations on this thing. It's not zeroing in on the source...” The device gave a painful squeal and the Doctor growled, “No, no, no, no, no....”
For some inexplicable reason, Donna turned her head and looked behind her. She couldn't say why she did so, and in fact it was not the result of any conscious thought or desire, yet the compulsion to turn her head was powerful and undeniable.
That was when she saw the body.
It was lying face down at the edge of the water, shifting with the sand as the increasingly violent waves began to reach it.
It had not been there before. She was certain of this.
She clutched at the Doctor's arm as he continued to prod at the annoying little gadget. “Doctor!” She released his arm and moved quickly towards the limp figure as the Doctor turned to see what had caught her attention. Then he was striding after her, calibrations all but forgotten.
As she neared the body, close enough to begin to make out details, she felt her stomach turn. The figure seemed half decayed. She covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh, my God.”
The Doctor did not slow his approach, but crouched down by the form in the sand, carefully turning it face up. Fighting to steel herself, Donna moved closer, readying herself to help if necessary, though she was fairly certain that the poor soul, whoever it was, was well beyond help.
As she neared, a low, rippling moan floated up to hear ears. She caught her breath.
“She's still alive,” the Doctor said grimly, as he scanned her with his screwdriver. Whatever readings he saw on the thing caused his brow to furrow deeply.
Donna knelt by the body as well, reaching a hand out to try to comfort but uncertain whether touching would cause more pain. “There now,” she soothed. “You'll be all right, love. You're goin' to be just fine. The Doctor will fix you up.” She bit into her lower lip before saying softly, “Doctor, she wasn't here before. Where did she come from? Did she wash up from the sea?”
“No.”
She looked down at the body. Oddly, she could now tell that it-- she-- was female. The girl... woman... was stripped of flesh and even muscle on some portions of her body, but on others, a pale, velvety looking skin gleamed. Healthy looking skin. Donna touched the soft white skin on the woman's cheek, and felt her lean into her palm as though craving contact. She swallowed hard against a rapidly swelling lump in her throat as she gently brushed her fingers over the woman's cheek.
“What happened to her, Doctor?”
He gently pulled the motionless figure into his arms, his face a stone mask. He stood in one smooth motion as though the burden in his arms weighed nothing, and moved towards the TARDIS, which jutted from a nearby hilltop, silhouetted like an obelisk in the gathering gloom. “We need to get her to the med lab. Come on.”