The Doctor neared the entranceway to the castle. He took his time, refusing to rush there. In fact, he would have welcomed a distraction, but the castle and his mind would allow him nothing but the truth of what could be waiting for him just down the next corridor. He told her to stay away from the water. What else could he have done? Should he have been here? Was it his fault for going off and exploring? Was it his fault for being here? Was it his fault everyone was here? God, she was dead. He knew it. He could feel it resonating through these empty halls. He knew it before he saw the glass box, before he found the courage to step up and stare down at Reinette's silent face.
She had defied all boundaries of time and all that waited for her was a glass coffin. He never thought why she was where she was. The peculiarness of the glass case barely breached his thoughts. For such an unnatural event, something about her in it seemed so natural. He breathed in deep and mumbled something; a cross between a curse and a prayer, when the dying sunlight from a stained glass window flickered across Reinette's opened eyes.
He sucked the breath back in and nearly gasped. "Reinette."
She pressed her palm against the glass and the Doctor shook off his shock and scrambled to get the lid off. Frantic, he threw it open and searching inside he put his hands onto her, feeling that she was real. "Reinette? Reinette," he repeated, a small desperate smile erasing the sadness from his face.
For the expanse of two breaths, perhaps three, Reinette was all of eight years old again. The Doctor's features over her own, cutting through the muted light that filled the space over her bed. Involuntarily she cast a glance over her far shoulder, but nothing was there. Nothing that did not belong, at least.
Though truly, what did.
She attempted to breath past the cotton in her mouth, only to find lungs that felt oddly full. As Reinette brought herself upright, a fit of coughing overcame her. She felt her own cheeks sting, revealing publicly her mortification at the damp spots that appeared on the Doctor's clothing.
She did manage his name, finally. Though the word was rough and raw. But it seemed the proper step in their stilted conversation.
Comments 55
There she is. Gone.
And there was nothing left to do.
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He sucked the breath back in and nearly gasped. "Reinette."
She pressed her palm against the glass and the Doctor shook off his shock and scrambled to get the lid off. Frantic, he threw it open and searching inside he put his hands onto her, feeling that she was real. "Reinette? Reinette," he repeated, a small desperate smile erasing the sadness from his face.
Reply
Though truly, what did.
She attempted to breath past the cotton in her mouth, only to find lungs that felt oddly full. As Reinette brought herself upright, a fit of coughing overcame her. She felt her own cheeks sting, revealing publicly her mortification at the damp spots that appeared on the Doctor's clothing.
She did manage his name, finally. Though the word was rough and raw. But it seemed the proper step in their stilted conversation.
Reply
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