[.o4] - Inside the walls you've built of damaged pride

[metacrisis_ten]

[Private to the Tenth Doctor]

I got her letter

Did you know

I'm so sorry

What do you need?

Comments

[SPAM]

[hates_coconut]

[His item was the first thing to tell him something was up, but he could hear the shrieking well before he even got to the door. He knocked.]

Doc?

Re: [SPAM]

[metacrisis_ten]

[His head snaps up from where he's kneeling on the floor, hands fisted in his hair. Damnit. The very last thing he wanted right now, what was his name, Tal... Tallahan? Talladega?]

Florida?

[After a beat, while he looked around the carnage he'd wrought as though seeing it for the first time.]

Go away.

[SPAM]

[hates_coconut]

[Tallahassee shakes his head, blowing hot air from his nose and some of the hardness that would have been his tone shoots out with it. He sounds more calm. Normally -- if this weren't about one man being responsible for another -- he'd back off. Give a man some space. But it's not like that here. When a man's got more than his own spirit weighing in on things, it had to be done different.]

Y'know I'm not gonna do that, Doc. So I c'n talk to you through the door or I can come in. What's it gonna be?

Re: [SPAM]

[metacrisis_ten]

[Getting up, he winces, shifting his weight to one foot, the other bleeding through its sock. Glass on the floor. Right.]

Agh...

I'm fine. Just brilliant, really. Job's done, excellent work, on your way.

[Hobbling carefully to his desk, he picks up the keyboard from where he'd swept it off and presses a few keys. Nothing. The microphone sits on the floor, torn from its housing. He can't message Martha for help, can't spin a lie about being clumsy and force an empty smile for her in the infirmary. He hangs his head in defeat.]

Private

[tenthxdoctor]

[attempts to respond, gets static]

...are you there? hello?

[uses his sonic on the communicator on his end, still nothing, decides it's due time to talk to the only other person who might understand.]

Spam - after the visit from Tal? maybe?

[tenthxdoctor]

[knocks on the door, soft voice]

You inside?

Re: Spam - Surely!

[metacrisis_ten]

[He pauses, between reshelving books. Weighing each volume, speculative, the Doctor shoots a glance around the room. The glass has been disposed of, most of his papers arranged in haphazard piles, furniture back to standing upright. Good enough.]

Door's open.

[He shelves both books and dusts his palms.]