First post: Petrified
Title: Petrified
Characters: Ten, own character
Rating: Adventure, could be romantic if you wish to see it that way
Word count: 542
Summary: Willow finds the Doctor unable to move, and they have to leave now. She has to act quickly.
About: This is something I wrote down months ago, and I was sloppy enough to not write down a date in the file, so I don't know exactly when it was. Probably somewhen in the first half of 2011. The character interacting with the Doctor, Willow, is an alias of myself. She came to life as one of the possibilities when I asked myself the question: What if I could write for Doctor Who? What would my favourite companion be like? She's ginger, happens to be a bit acrobatic (she's a dancer), has a slender build, and is quite intelligent, but doesn't have much confidence at the beginning of her adventures.
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Petrified
Willow barged into the TARDIS, all energy and running, and the tenth incarnation of the Doctor was standing on the grating, not moving, looking at her with fury.
“Doctor, I think I did it, I think…”
“Doctor?”
She breathed out visibly.
“Doctor, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to… Look, we’ve got to go before the thing collapses.”
But all that time the Doctor didn’t even blink, his smouldering intensity unwavering. During her apologies, Willow had stepped forward to him, trying to bridge the distance between them both emotionally and physically. Carefully, she reached out and touched his arm. It was stone hard and didn’t even move a nanometre. She looked up, only to see that he was still staring straight ahead. He couldn’t move.
She adressed the central column.
“Will you protect us?”
If the Doctor couldn’t move, then he could not tell her what had happened.
“I’ll be right back,” she said to him. From inside the TARDIS she got a chair, so she could better reach his face. He was, after all, a rather tall man. She stood on the chair, her face now coming a little higher than his, and kissed his forehead.
“I’m sorry, I want to listen to you, so I’m just going to try this.”
She put her fingers on the sides of his face, two on each side behind his ears, two on his temples. She rested her forehead against his, closed her eyes, and probed forward with her mind.
‘No, wait,’ she thought, ‘I don’t want to invade his privacy.’ So she imagined a white, foggy mental environment between them, a common ground he could come out to.
“Come on, Doctor, come out. I know you’re in there,” Willow whispered.
She felt his attention seeping through. There was a blazing, white-hot energy burst, and then his form slowly solidified in the white terrain. Part of him was fury and chaos. She counteracted it with calmness streaming from somewhere deep inside her, like she had a piece of infinity in the centre of her being. She permeated the mental environment with it, let it stream through her real hands. ‘It’s all right Doctor, I’m here. Tell me what happened.’
---
“You know, Willow, I’m impressed.”
“By whom? What kind of a miracleworker achieved that?”
“Well, you, of course.”
The surprise was apparent on her face. “Me?”
“For a miracleworker, you don’t seem very confident about your own capacities.”
“I’m not a miracleworker! I’m just… sometimes good at reading between the lines, or... something...”
“Don’t underestimate yourself, Willow. It may seem like a second nature to you, but most people don’t know instinctively what to do. You never made mental contact with anyone in your life, but you managed to do it with me, and you did it perfectly. While I was petrified, no less. I might as well not have been aware of my surroundings in that frozen shell. On top of that, no human has ever done that with me. Not initiating it themselves.”
“Am… I not supposed to be able to do that?”
“Naah, nothing wrong with it. I wasn’t expecting it, that’s all. Just a bit unlikely. But you’re brilliant, Willow, don’t forget that. Have a little faith in yourself.”
Characters: Ten, own character
Rating: Adventure, could be romantic if you wish to see it that way
Word count: 542
Summary: Willow finds the Doctor unable to move, and they have to leave now. She has to act quickly.
About: This is something I wrote down months ago, and I was sloppy enough to not write down a date in the file, so I don't know exactly when it was. Probably somewhen in the first half of 2011. The character interacting with the Doctor, Willow, is an alias of myself. She came to life as one of the possibilities when I asked myself the question: What if I could write for Doctor Who? What would my favourite companion be like? She's ginger, happens to be a bit acrobatic (she's a dancer), has a slender build, and is quite intelligent, but doesn't have much confidence at the beginning of her adventures.
-----
Petrified
Willow barged into the TARDIS, all energy and running, and the tenth incarnation of the Doctor was standing on the grating, not moving, looking at her with fury.
“Doctor, I think I did it, I think…”
“Doctor?”
She breathed out visibly.
“Doctor, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to… Look, we’ve got to go before the thing collapses.”
But all that time the Doctor didn’t even blink, his smouldering intensity unwavering. During her apologies, Willow had stepped forward to him, trying to bridge the distance between them both emotionally and physically. Carefully, she reached out and touched his arm. It was stone hard and didn’t even move a nanometre. She looked up, only to see that he was still staring straight ahead. He couldn’t move.
She adressed the central column.
“Will you protect us?”
If the Doctor couldn’t move, then he could not tell her what had happened.
“I’ll be right back,” she said to him. From inside the TARDIS she got a chair, so she could better reach his face. He was, after all, a rather tall man. She stood on the chair, her face now coming a little higher than his, and kissed his forehead.
“I’m sorry, I want to listen to you, so I’m just going to try this.”
She put her fingers on the sides of his face, two on each side behind his ears, two on his temples. She rested her forehead against his, closed her eyes, and probed forward with her mind.
‘No, wait,’ she thought, ‘I don’t want to invade his privacy.’ So she imagined a white, foggy mental environment between them, a common ground he could come out to.
“Come on, Doctor, come out. I know you’re in there,” Willow whispered.
She felt his attention seeping through. There was a blazing, white-hot energy burst, and then his form slowly solidified in the white terrain. Part of him was fury and chaos. She counteracted it with calmness streaming from somewhere deep inside her, like she had a piece of infinity in the centre of her being. She permeated the mental environment with it, let it stream through her real hands. ‘It’s all right Doctor, I’m here. Tell me what happened.’
---
“You know, Willow, I’m impressed.”
“By whom? What kind of a miracleworker achieved that?”
“Well, you, of course.”
The surprise was apparent on her face. “Me?”
“For a miracleworker, you don’t seem very confident about your own capacities.”
“I’m not a miracleworker! I’m just… sometimes good at reading between the lines, or... something...”
“Don’t underestimate yourself, Willow. It may seem like a second nature to you, but most people don’t know instinctively what to do. You never made mental contact with anyone in your life, but you managed to do it with me, and you did it perfectly. While I was petrified, no less. I might as well not have been aware of my surroundings in that frozen shell. On top of that, no human has ever done that with me. Not initiating it themselves.”
“Am… I not supposed to be able to do that?”
“Naah, nothing wrong with it. I wasn’t expecting it, that’s all. Just a bit unlikely. But you’re brilliant, Willow, don’t forget that. Have a little faith in yourself.”