Merlin Fic: Endless Midnights
Fandom: Merlin (BBC) / Doctor Who (BBC) Crossover
Title: Endless Midnights
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin (and the ever-so-slightest hints of Doctor/Rose)
Author: Kagedtiger
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Merlin belongs to the BBC, not to me. Dr. Who belongs to the BBC, not me.
Warnings/Spoilers: No spoilers for the actual Merlin series, but spoilers for the "Midnight" episode of Doctor Who. For the record, this crossover was all my friend's idea, and I completely blame her. (You know who you are!) If you're unfamiliar, this fic comes from the fact that Colin Morgan also played a young emo tourist in an episode of Doctor Who. God help us. Also warning, I guess, kind of sad.
Summary: After the events of "Midnight," The Doctor meets with one of the tourists who is not quite what he appears to be.
The Doctor approaches the bench where the boy sits, black hair just falling into his eyes, staring off into the distance through a glass wall over a dozen feet thick. The ordinary chatter and bustle of the Leisure Palace seems somehow dimmed around the small black-clad figure, as though he sits in his own little bubble of quiet.
“Emo is a good look on you,” The Doctor opens with, hands in his pocket.
The boy snorts. “Well, I thought I'd try it out. I've been in something of a Mood for the last hundred years or so. I thought it might be appropriate.”
“You could have saved her. Both of them.” The Doctor accuses, tone deadly serious.
The boy shakes his head. “I tried. Used an exorcism spell, but whatever it was, it was a living thing. Some new kind of lifeform. I don't know how it got into her body, so I didn't know how to get it out again. Trust me, I tried all I could. And with the attendant, well... it happened so fast...”
The Doctor takes a seat on the bench next to him, long legs extended before him in a deceptively relaxed pose. He says nothing, just follows the youth's gaze, staring out the window at the beautiful, barren landscape.
“It's amazing, isn't it,” says the boy after a moment. “You live for so long, and yet the universe still manages to surprise you. I remember when we didn't even know there were other planets out there.”
The Doctor smiles, and although he doesn't bother to look over at his companion, he can hear the matching sardonic grin in the boy's voice. It is times like this that a certain world-weariness - a certain universe-weariness, creation-weariness, even - settles over The Doctor, a strange combination of nostalgia and surprise and a faint, unexplainable sadness. He doesn't feel it often, but then, it is rare that he meets someone old enough to truly understand, and to evoke this feeling in him.
“You're looking good for your age,” The Doctor jokes.
He hears a snort from beside him. “I like being a teenager. It gives me an excuse to be petulant. You're one to talk, anyway. At least my appearance is an illusion. Damn Time Lords and your regeneration.” There is no malice in his voice when he speaks. “Don't you ever get tired of it all, though? Living for so long? Seeing so much of the universe die and fall to ruin?”
The Doctor watches the unfathomably brilliant sunlight shine off Midnight's crystalline cliffs. “Nope. But then, I'm not waiting for anything.”
“He'll come back,” the boy whispers, like a prayer. “They promised he'd come back some day. And he'll need me to be here when he does. Lord knows he's incapable of functioning without me.”
The Doctor's grin widens, and he laughs silently to himself. Though he knows his companion would not appreciate it if he said as much, it's always refreshing to see such boundless loyalty, across the stretches of time. Out of respect, he chooses not to comment on his companion's heartache. Instead he changes the subject. “Nice act, by the way. With the parents and everything. Who are they?”
“Just some couple,” the boy replies, his voice returning to normal, shedding regret like shaking off a cloak. “They wanted a child, but couldn't have one. It was weighing on them so heavily, so I just... told their brains that they'd already had one. They're happier this way, despite my apparent teenage rebellion. I'll probably stay with them until they die. Age appropriately. Maybe even try to have another life, to make them happy. I imagine they'll want grandkids at some point. They're the type.”
The Doctor knows that this is nonsense, but doesn't say it out loud. He knows that his companion has had various lovers over the many, many years, but never anyone permanent. He's not had a true partner, someone to trust and live with and stand by, since He “died.” The Doctor doubts he ever will, until the promised day comes when He returns. He says, “They seem nice.”
“Nice enough,” the boy agrees. “How's Jack?”
“Oh, he's great,” says The Doctor. “Running Torchwood on Earth. Well, what's left of it, anyway.”
“Still?” asks the boy, surprised.
The Doctor frowns. “Well, he was when I last saw him. But that was a lot longer ago for you than it was for me, I guess. I've been sort of hopping all over the place.”
“As usual. And who've you got with you now? Some lovely black girl, wasn't it? Or was it the blond? I never know which version of you I'm talking to.”
“Ah, no,” says The Doctor, allowing a warning note to creep into his voice. He did not pursue this road with his companion's sorrow, and he'll thank him to return the favor. “I've got a new one now. Donna Noble. Lovely woman. Very cheeky.”
The Doctor looks over at the boy then, only to find him smiling back with that adorable goofy smile that he's always had. The Doctor tries to remember if he saw that smile even once the last time they met. Or the time before that.
“It's good that you've got someone,” says the boy. “You're always happier when you're traveling with a companion. It's good to see you happy.”
“You should come meet her!” The Doctor gestures with his head to indicate the direction in which Donna lies on a big plastic chair, enjoying the artificial breeze over the artificial ocean beach. “She's a hoot. You'll love her!”
But the boy just shakes his head. “Thanks, but I should be getting back to my parents.” He stands. “They're still somewhat shell-shocked. I should be there for them. Let them dote on me a bit. It'll make them feel better.” He sticks out his hand to shake The Doctor's. “It was nice seeing you again though.”
“I'm sure we'll meet again at some point,” says the Doctor, taking his hand and standing as he shakes it. “If your prince doesn't come first,” he adds, unable to resist.
The boy grins again. “One can only hope. So long, Doctor.”
The Doctor watches as the boy turns and walks off into the crowd, his black-clad form standing out like that of a mourner in a sea of otherwise blissful happiness.
Title: Endless Midnights
Pairing: Arthur/Merlin (and the ever-so-slightest hints of Doctor/Rose)
Author: Kagedtiger
Rating: G
Disclaimer: Merlin belongs to the BBC, not to me. Dr. Who belongs to the BBC, not me.
Warnings/Spoilers: No spoilers for the actual Merlin series, but spoilers for the "Midnight" episode of Doctor Who. For the record, this crossover was all my friend's idea, and I completely blame her. (You know who you are!) If you're unfamiliar, this fic comes from the fact that Colin Morgan also played a young emo tourist in an episode of Doctor Who. God help us. Also warning, I guess, kind of sad.
Summary: After the events of "Midnight," The Doctor meets with one of the tourists who is not quite what he appears to be.
The Doctor approaches the bench where the boy sits, black hair just falling into his eyes, staring off into the distance through a glass wall over a dozen feet thick. The ordinary chatter and bustle of the Leisure Palace seems somehow dimmed around the small black-clad figure, as though he sits in his own little bubble of quiet.
“Emo is a good look on you,” The Doctor opens with, hands in his pocket.
The boy snorts. “Well, I thought I'd try it out. I've been in something of a Mood for the last hundred years or so. I thought it might be appropriate.”
“You could have saved her. Both of them.” The Doctor accuses, tone deadly serious.
The boy shakes his head. “I tried. Used an exorcism spell, but whatever it was, it was a living thing. Some new kind of lifeform. I don't know how it got into her body, so I didn't know how to get it out again. Trust me, I tried all I could. And with the attendant, well... it happened so fast...”
The Doctor takes a seat on the bench next to him, long legs extended before him in a deceptively relaxed pose. He says nothing, just follows the youth's gaze, staring out the window at the beautiful, barren landscape.
“It's amazing, isn't it,” says the boy after a moment. “You live for so long, and yet the universe still manages to surprise you. I remember when we didn't even know there were other planets out there.”
The Doctor smiles, and although he doesn't bother to look over at his companion, he can hear the matching sardonic grin in the boy's voice. It is times like this that a certain world-weariness - a certain universe-weariness, creation-weariness, even - settles over The Doctor, a strange combination of nostalgia and surprise and a faint, unexplainable sadness. He doesn't feel it often, but then, it is rare that he meets someone old enough to truly understand, and to evoke this feeling in him.
“You're looking good for your age,” The Doctor jokes.
He hears a snort from beside him. “I like being a teenager. It gives me an excuse to be petulant. You're one to talk, anyway. At least my appearance is an illusion. Damn Time Lords and your regeneration.” There is no malice in his voice when he speaks. “Don't you ever get tired of it all, though? Living for so long? Seeing so much of the universe die and fall to ruin?”
The Doctor watches the unfathomably brilliant sunlight shine off Midnight's crystalline cliffs. “Nope. But then, I'm not waiting for anything.”
“He'll come back,” the boy whispers, like a prayer. “They promised he'd come back some day. And he'll need me to be here when he does. Lord knows he's incapable of functioning without me.”
The Doctor's grin widens, and he laughs silently to himself. Though he knows his companion would not appreciate it if he said as much, it's always refreshing to see such boundless loyalty, across the stretches of time. Out of respect, he chooses not to comment on his companion's heartache. Instead he changes the subject. “Nice act, by the way. With the parents and everything. Who are they?”
“Just some couple,” the boy replies, his voice returning to normal, shedding regret like shaking off a cloak. “They wanted a child, but couldn't have one. It was weighing on them so heavily, so I just... told their brains that they'd already had one. They're happier this way, despite my apparent teenage rebellion. I'll probably stay with them until they die. Age appropriately. Maybe even try to have another life, to make them happy. I imagine they'll want grandkids at some point. They're the type.”
The Doctor knows that this is nonsense, but doesn't say it out loud. He knows that his companion has had various lovers over the many, many years, but never anyone permanent. He's not had a true partner, someone to trust and live with and stand by, since He “died.” The Doctor doubts he ever will, until the promised day comes when He returns. He says, “They seem nice.”
“Nice enough,” the boy agrees. “How's Jack?”
“Oh, he's great,” says The Doctor. “Running Torchwood on Earth. Well, what's left of it, anyway.”
“Still?” asks the boy, surprised.
The Doctor frowns. “Well, he was when I last saw him. But that was a lot longer ago for you than it was for me, I guess. I've been sort of hopping all over the place.”
“As usual. And who've you got with you now? Some lovely black girl, wasn't it? Or was it the blond? I never know which version of you I'm talking to.”
“Ah, no,” says The Doctor, allowing a warning note to creep into his voice. He did not pursue this road with his companion's sorrow, and he'll thank him to return the favor. “I've got a new one now. Donna Noble. Lovely woman. Very cheeky.”
The Doctor looks over at the boy then, only to find him smiling back with that adorable goofy smile that he's always had. The Doctor tries to remember if he saw that smile even once the last time they met. Or the time before that.
“It's good that you've got someone,” says the boy. “You're always happier when you're traveling with a companion. It's good to see you happy.”
“You should come meet her!” The Doctor gestures with his head to indicate the direction in which Donna lies on a big plastic chair, enjoying the artificial breeze over the artificial ocean beach. “She's a hoot. You'll love her!”
But the boy just shakes his head. “Thanks, but I should be getting back to my parents.” He stands. “They're still somewhat shell-shocked. I should be there for them. Let them dote on me a bit. It'll make them feel better.” He sticks out his hand to shake The Doctor's. “It was nice seeing you again though.”
“I'm sure we'll meet again at some point,” says the Doctor, taking his hand and standing as he shakes it. “If your prince doesn't come first,” he adds, unable to resist.
The boy grins again. “One can only hope. So long, Doctor.”
The Doctor watches as the boy turns and walks off into the crowd, his black-clad form standing out like that of a mourner in a sea of otherwise blissful happiness.