(no subject)
Title: Sound
Author: Dagnir_fic (DagniroVanaliel)
Prompt: #037 Sound
Claim: Five/Ten
My table is HERE
Rating: PG
Pairing: Five/Ten
Disclaimer: As far as I know, I don't own Doctor Who.
“Are you all right?” The man looks up, startled.
“Hmm? Oh, yes. Fine.” He plucks a blade of grass from the ground beside him and twists it around his fingers.
The other places a hand on his cheek and turns his face, looking into his eyes.
“When will you realize you can’t lie to me? To yourself?”
“Can you hear them?” Now it’s the other’s turn to look taken aback.
“What??”
“The drums.” He turns back to the blade of green Earth grass and splits it down the middle. “The-he-told me they’ve plagued him since childhood. Since he looked into the Untempered Schism.”
The other doesn’t bother asking who “he” is. There’s really only one person-one Time Lord-it could be.
“I don’t,” he responds. “You know I don’t. Why do you ask?”
“Because… I think I do.” He raises his face, fear written in his deep brown eyes. “I don’t know if it’s an echo from-an echo,” he hastily stops himself from revealing the future “-or something else.”
“You’re not going mad,” the other says, his tone comforting. “I don’t hear them. They aren’t a part of us. Never were. Never will be. They aren’t for us. Remember that.”
Silence follows, blessed silence, an opportunity to purge the sound from his mind.
The drums.
Author: Dagnir_fic (DagniroVanaliel)
Prompt: #037 Sound
Claim: Five/Ten
My table is HERE
Rating: PG
Pairing: Five/Ten
Disclaimer: As far as I know, I don't own Doctor Who.
“Are you all right?” The man looks up, startled.
“Hmm? Oh, yes. Fine.” He plucks a blade of grass from the ground beside him and twists it around his fingers.
The other places a hand on his cheek and turns his face, looking into his eyes.
“When will you realize you can’t lie to me? To yourself?”
“Can you hear them?” Now it’s the other’s turn to look taken aback.
“What??”
“The drums.” He turns back to the blade of green Earth grass and splits it down the middle. “The-he-told me they’ve plagued him since childhood. Since he looked into the Untempered Schism.”
The other doesn’t bother asking who “he” is. There’s really only one person-one Time Lord-it could be.
“I don’t,” he responds. “You know I don’t. Why do you ask?”
“Because… I think I do.” He raises his face, fear written in his deep brown eyes. “I don’t know if it’s an echo from-an echo,” he hastily stops himself from revealing the future “-or something else.”
“You’re not going mad,” the other says, his tone comforting. “I don’t hear them. They aren’t a part of us. Never were. Never will be. They aren’t for us. Remember that.”
Silence follows, blessed silence, an opportunity to purge the sound from his mind.
The drums.