Ficathon entry: Because I Would Not Stop for Death (Charley, Eight, PG)
Author: hildy
Recipient & Prompt: teghrannah; Eight, Charley, "Kill me"
Title: Because I Would Not Stop for Death
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Spoilers: "Neverland"/"Zagreus"/"Scherzo"
Summary: She'd pleaded with him, but he couldn't. He'd asked the same of her, but she couldn't.
Author's Note: The title comes from an Emily Dickinson poem of the same name; Thanks to sarajlarson for a quick read-through.
---
Before, Charley had the TARDIS to judge the Doctor's moods.
Now she had nothing. She could only judge him by what he said and how he acted. Neither was remarkably helpful in times like this.
Without the TARDIS, Charley was just as lost as the Doctor. She would never admit that, because she could never compare her experience to his. He'd lost a dear old friend and a beloved home. A cranky and jealous home, but she still meant the world to the Doctor. In his eyes, Charley had merely lost a mode of transportation, nothing more.
But Charley had lost her compass, too. Unlike the Doctor, she hadn't figured out how to compensate for the loss. He might not have figured it out either, but he was better at faking it for her benefit.
At least with the TARDIS the Doctor could mope properly. He'd putter about the console room, adjusting this knob or that dial, knowing she wouldn't disturb his work. But usually he'd just lay in his time coordinates for wherever they were headed and disappear into his library for hours on end. He might reappear whenever he needed his daily infusion of tea or whenever they landed, whichever came first.
Charley had learned not to bother him when he was in one of those moods. The first few times she'd tried to offer some words of comfort, only to be rebuffed. Finally she'd thrown up her hands and just left him to his own devices, trusting he'd come round when he was feeling more like himself. Of course, for all she knew, the grumpier version might be the real Doctor. What was normal behavior for a Time Lord?
But now they couldn't hide in their separate rooms. They only had each other. Spending this much time together only exacerbated the Doctor's moodiness. He wouldn't actually tell her so. He wouldn't tell her anything. So mostly they'd walked without exchanging a word. She couldn't bear this prolonged silence. She had to do something.
"Look, Doctor," Charley offered tentatively, "I'll understand if you're still angry with me. I know I shouldn't have snuck aboard…" The wounds from that betrayal were still fresh. He'd intended to pull the ultimate sulk, going off in his TARDIS to this new universe, leaving her to do god-knows-what without him.
The Doctor shook his head. "It's not about that, Charley." At least he was responding in full sentences. That was somewhat encouraging.
"Then what's wrong?" Charley hated to prod, but she didn't see how she had any choice. He wasn't going to open up any other way. "You've been unusually moody today." He didn't scowl, but obviously Charley had hit the mark. "What are you thinking about so intently all these hours?"
"Death," the Doctor said simply. "I was just thinking about our last couple of adventures together. We've both managed to escape death by the skin of our teeth, haven't we?"
"I'll say," Charley said, "It's starting to become something of a nasty habit with us." She asked tentatively. "Do you… regret your decision?" He could be back in his own universe, touring in his blue box, if only he'd followed her suggestion. But he'd stubbornly refused.
"How can you ask me that?" The Doctor stopped and turned to face her. She'd expected his anger, but she hadn't expected to see the pain in his eyes. "You asked me to kill you. You asked me to choose between the fate of the world and fate of my best friend. You can't ask me to make a decision like that."
"We didn't have a choice, Doctor," Charley explained. "You know I wouldn't have asked you unless there was no alternative." Centris knew that, of course. She'd counted on that, knowing the Doctor would never follow through.
"There's always another way," the Doctor said. "I would never have sacrificed you for the greater good. I would have found another solution."
Charley replied dryly, "Your decision involved exploding an Anti-Time bomb inside your own TARDIS and absorbing the blast. You must admit mine was the simpler solution."
"You call that simpler?" The Doctor must have thought she was mad or suicidal. "You would have died!"
"I was supposed to die before, remember?" Charley returned. "The R-101 should have gone down in Beauvais, France with no survivors. Yet I lived. If I hadn't lived, then those Anti-Time creatures wouldn't have had a way into your universe."
"They would have found another way, too," the Doctor said bitterly. "Those lot always do. Once Centris had found the perfect way to contaminate the universe, she wouldn't have stopped until the job was done. Your death would only have prolonged the inevitable."
"What about your death?" Charley countered. It was easy for him to talk. He could be all clever, but she had to suck it up and be a good girl and kill the man she'd come to admire and love. "Do you have any idea how hard it was to kill you? You confessed your love to me, and then you asked me to gut you with a sword. What if it hadn't worked? You'd be dead and I'd be at mercy of a jealous TARDIS, an Anti-Time-infected lunatic, and a mad despot. Or would Rassilon have found another way too?"
"He was a nearly omnipotent raving madman," the Doctor said, "what do you think?"
"Rassilon and Centris weren't all that different, in the end," Charley said. "They both enjoyed watching us squirm, knowing it was the last thing we'd want to do. Much as it pained me to kill you, Doctor, I trusted you. If anyone could find a way past Zagreus' control, you could. So ultimately they both underestimated you."
"No, Charley, it was you they underestimated." Charley shivered hearing that silky timbre in his voice. Zagreus had used it to sinister effect when he controlled the Doctor's personality. "Centris knew your death would break the link between the universes, but I don't think she ever expected you to sacrifice yourself. In her eyes, you were far too attached to life to want death."
"I didn't want to die, Doctor," Charley replied. "No one wants that. I knew I had been given a second chance when you saved me from the R-101. So I relished every adventure we had. But I also knew my good fortune would run out someday. That day could have been then. It could be tomorrow for all I know. If you knew your next regeneration would be your last…"
"Then I would go the same way I lived," the Doctor said.
"Just what I'd expect you to say," Charley smiled.
Recipient & Prompt: teghrannah; Eight, Charley, "Kill me"
Title: Because I Would Not Stop for Death
Rating: PG
Warnings: None
Spoilers: "Neverland"/"Zagreus"/"Scherzo"
Summary: She'd pleaded with him, but he couldn't. He'd asked the same of her, but she couldn't.
Author's Note: The title comes from an Emily Dickinson poem of the same name; Thanks to sarajlarson for a quick read-through.
---
Before, Charley had the TARDIS to judge the Doctor's moods.
Now she had nothing. She could only judge him by what he said and how he acted. Neither was remarkably helpful in times like this.
Without the TARDIS, Charley was just as lost as the Doctor. She would never admit that, because she could never compare her experience to his. He'd lost a dear old friend and a beloved home. A cranky and jealous home, but she still meant the world to the Doctor. In his eyes, Charley had merely lost a mode of transportation, nothing more.
But Charley had lost her compass, too. Unlike the Doctor, she hadn't figured out how to compensate for the loss. He might not have figured it out either, but he was better at faking it for her benefit.
At least with the TARDIS the Doctor could mope properly. He'd putter about the console room, adjusting this knob or that dial, knowing she wouldn't disturb his work. But usually he'd just lay in his time coordinates for wherever they were headed and disappear into his library for hours on end. He might reappear whenever he needed his daily infusion of tea or whenever they landed, whichever came first.
Charley had learned not to bother him when he was in one of those moods. The first few times she'd tried to offer some words of comfort, only to be rebuffed. Finally she'd thrown up her hands and just left him to his own devices, trusting he'd come round when he was feeling more like himself. Of course, for all she knew, the grumpier version might be the real Doctor. What was normal behavior for a Time Lord?
But now they couldn't hide in their separate rooms. They only had each other. Spending this much time together only exacerbated the Doctor's moodiness. He wouldn't actually tell her so. He wouldn't tell her anything. So mostly they'd walked without exchanging a word. She couldn't bear this prolonged silence. She had to do something.
"Look, Doctor," Charley offered tentatively, "I'll understand if you're still angry with me. I know I shouldn't have snuck aboard…" The wounds from that betrayal were still fresh. He'd intended to pull the ultimate sulk, going off in his TARDIS to this new universe, leaving her to do god-knows-what without him.
The Doctor shook his head. "It's not about that, Charley." At least he was responding in full sentences. That was somewhat encouraging.
"Then what's wrong?" Charley hated to prod, but she didn't see how she had any choice. He wasn't going to open up any other way. "You've been unusually moody today." He didn't scowl, but obviously Charley had hit the mark. "What are you thinking about so intently all these hours?"
"Death," the Doctor said simply. "I was just thinking about our last couple of adventures together. We've both managed to escape death by the skin of our teeth, haven't we?"
"I'll say," Charley said, "It's starting to become something of a nasty habit with us." She asked tentatively. "Do you… regret your decision?" He could be back in his own universe, touring in his blue box, if only he'd followed her suggestion. But he'd stubbornly refused.
"How can you ask me that?" The Doctor stopped and turned to face her. She'd expected his anger, but she hadn't expected to see the pain in his eyes. "You asked me to kill you. You asked me to choose between the fate of the world and fate of my best friend. You can't ask me to make a decision like that."
"We didn't have a choice, Doctor," Charley explained. "You know I wouldn't have asked you unless there was no alternative." Centris knew that, of course. She'd counted on that, knowing the Doctor would never follow through.
"There's always another way," the Doctor said. "I would never have sacrificed you for the greater good. I would have found another solution."
Charley replied dryly, "Your decision involved exploding an Anti-Time bomb inside your own TARDIS and absorbing the blast. You must admit mine was the simpler solution."
"You call that simpler?" The Doctor must have thought she was mad or suicidal. "You would have died!"
"I was supposed to die before, remember?" Charley returned. "The R-101 should have gone down in Beauvais, France with no survivors. Yet I lived. If I hadn't lived, then those Anti-Time creatures wouldn't have had a way into your universe."
"They would have found another way, too," the Doctor said bitterly. "Those lot always do. Once Centris had found the perfect way to contaminate the universe, she wouldn't have stopped until the job was done. Your death would only have prolonged the inevitable."
"What about your death?" Charley countered. It was easy for him to talk. He could be all clever, but she had to suck it up and be a good girl and kill the man she'd come to admire and love. "Do you have any idea how hard it was to kill you? You confessed your love to me, and then you asked me to gut you with a sword. What if it hadn't worked? You'd be dead and I'd be at mercy of a jealous TARDIS, an Anti-Time-infected lunatic, and a mad despot. Or would Rassilon have found another way too?"
"He was a nearly omnipotent raving madman," the Doctor said, "what do you think?"
"Rassilon and Centris weren't all that different, in the end," Charley said. "They both enjoyed watching us squirm, knowing it was the last thing we'd want to do. Much as it pained me to kill you, Doctor, I trusted you. If anyone could find a way past Zagreus' control, you could. So ultimately they both underestimated you."
"No, Charley, it was you they underestimated." Charley shivered hearing that silky timbre in his voice. Zagreus had used it to sinister effect when he controlled the Doctor's personality. "Centris knew your death would break the link between the universes, but I don't think she ever expected you to sacrifice yourself. In her eyes, you were far too attached to life to want death."
"I didn't want to die, Doctor," Charley replied. "No one wants that. I knew I had been given a second chance when you saved me from the R-101. So I relished every adventure we had. But I also knew my good fortune would run out someday. That day could have been then. It could be tomorrow for all I know. If you knew your next regeneration would be your last…"
"Then I would go the same way I lived," the Doctor said.
"Just what I'd expect you to say," Charley smiled.