The Famous Last Second
Rating: G
Prompt: #004 - Insides
Claim: The Time War
Table: Here
Spoilers: None
Characters: The Doctor (6), Mel
Summary: The Doctor worries about twists in the timeline while he once again has to save a companion from a gruesome fate.
They were stuck in the cargo hold of another space station and it smelled like rotten fruit, oil and failing air conditioning. ‘Them’ being the Doctor and the TARDIS in this case, since Mel had once again been captured, and how the hell did she always manage that? Not that he was surprised - he’d technically only travelled with her for a day but if there was one thing all the men and women that had accompanied him through the centuries had in common it would be their tendency to end up in one particular place, meaning: Separated from him, locked up and most likely in mortal danger. The Doctor sighed in exasperation while he stared at the closed door as if willing it to open through the power of his glare. Okay, so right now he was locked up as well. And he had to admit he had his fair share of guns poked into his back during his lifetimes, and (his own) people had tried to execute him more often than he cared to recall (sometimes succeeding, and that memory still tasted bitter, like gall). But he usually got out of those situations without having to rely on anyone else to save him. His companions, though, more often than not left the honour of saving them to him, generally with the extra flavour of ‘last second’. Which meant that if he didn’t hurry he would miss that last second and lose (another) friend he was responsible for. Which meant he had to get out of here and find Mel as soon as possible.
He considered, though, returning to the TARDIS first to get rid of all the carrot juice Mel had stored in the pantry.
Taking the TARDIS to get out was impossible, as they had only been forced to land because it had more or less fallen apart around them, and now there was no time for repair work. The only way out of here, it seemed, was through that door.
The air in here smelled disgusting.
But it wasn’t the smell that was making him feel itchy and nervous. Not the carrot juice either. Not even the treat to Mel’s life or the fact that his TARDIS would possibly remain broken for a long time. It was the fact that he was travelling with a girl he hadn’t yet met.
It shouldn’t even have been possible. His very instincts rebelled about her presence since she knew him much longer than he knew her and their travelling together eliminated the possibility of them ever meeting the way they should - the way they had. It was twisted, as if someone was trying to tie time into a knot, and rather clumsily so. The Doctor grimaced at the thought as he wired various tools he’d fetched from the TADRIS to the locked door and connected them to the motor of the cooling unit that kept the air in the room all nice and icy (and stinking). He was rather surprised his finger didn’t break off to shatter on the floor when he moved them.
What bothered him most was that neither of the Time Lords at the trial, the self-proclaimed keeper of the universe’s order, had batted an eyelash at Mel’s presence. None of them had so much as raised an eyebrow when the Master revealed the Valeyard’s true identity. Time hadn’t only been twisted, it had been split, yet the Doctor seemed to have been to only one surprised by that.
It made him wonder, as he pressed the bottom on his improvised door-opening device and ran to hide behind the TARDIS, if there was anything they knew and didn’t tell him.
All these little paradoxes could be a side-effect of a larger paradox, but the Time Lords, would never allow something like that to happen. Unless they caused it themselves, of course.
But why would they? A paradox could be used as a weapon, but using a weapon that twisted and possibly broke a timeline was…
… was not something he’d put beyond them, not anymore. Still, there was the question of motivation, and, as he covered his ears to protect them from the noise of the explosion, he couldn’t think of anything to justify something like that, not even for them.
It wasn’t like they were at war or something like that.
The smoke drifted away and revealed a gaping hole in the wall beside the door. Well, close enough.
The Doctor stepped outside and looked left and right down the corridor without discovering anything useful. Soon enough, though, he would be poked with guns again if he stayed here, so he randomly chose a direction and shortly after heard a shrill voice yelling civilized insults and calling for help. It hurt his ears even from a distance, but at least it made Mel easy to find.
By the sound of it the famous last second was only minutes away. The Doctor sped up his steps and left all thoughts of paradoxes behind as he once again ran to save a female human from the clutches of a fire-spitting dragon.
Or, in this case, a group of nurses and a janitor.
December 8, 2007
Prompt: #004 - Insides
Claim: The Time War
Table: Here
Spoilers: None
Characters: The Doctor (6), Mel
Summary: The Doctor worries about twists in the timeline while he once again has to save a companion from a gruesome fate.
They were stuck in the cargo hold of another space station and it smelled like rotten fruit, oil and failing air conditioning. ‘Them’ being the Doctor and the TARDIS in this case, since Mel had once again been captured, and how the hell did she always manage that? Not that he was surprised - he’d technically only travelled with her for a day but if there was one thing all the men and women that had accompanied him through the centuries had in common it would be their tendency to end up in one particular place, meaning: Separated from him, locked up and most likely in mortal danger. The Doctor sighed in exasperation while he stared at the closed door as if willing it to open through the power of his glare. Okay, so right now he was locked up as well. And he had to admit he had his fair share of guns poked into his back during his lifetimes, and (his own) people had tried to execute him more often than he cared to recall (sometimes succeeding, and that memory still tasted bitter, like gall). But he usually got out of those situations without having to rely on anyone else to save him. His companions, though, more often than not left the honour of saving them to him, generally with the extra flavour of ‘last second’. Which meant that if he didn’t hurry he would miss that last second and lose (another) friend he was responsible for. Which meant he had to get out of here and find Mel as soon as possible.
He considered, though, returning to the TARDIS first to get rid of all the carrot juice Mel had stored in the pantry.
Taking the TARDIS to get out was impossible, as they had only been forced to land because it had more or less fallen apart around them, and now there was no time for repair work. The only way out of here, it seemed, was through that door.
The air in here smelled disgusting.
But it wasn’t the smell that was making him feel itchy and nervous. Not the carrot juice either. Not even the treat to Mel’s life or the fact that his TARDIS would possibly remain broken for a long time. It was the fact that he was travelling with a girl he hadn’t yet met.
It shouldn’t even have been possible. His very instincts rebelled about her presence since she knew him much longer than he knew her and their travelling together eliminated the possibility of them ever meeting the way they should - the way they had. It was twisted, as if someone was trying to tie time into a knot, and rather clumsily so. The Doctor grimaced at the thought as he wired various tools he’d fetched from the TADRIS to the locked door and connected them to the motor of the cooling unit that kept the air in the room all nice and icy (and stinking). He was rather surprised his finger didn’t break off to shatter on the floor when he moved them.
What bothered him most was that neither of the Time Lords at the trial, the self-proclaimed keeper of the universe’s order, had batted an eyelash at Mel’s presence. None of them had so much as raised an eyebrow when the Master revealed the Valeyard’s true identity. Time hadn’t only been twisted, it had been split, yet the Doctor seemed to have been to only one surprised by that.
It made him wonder, as he pressed the bottom on his improvised door-opening device and ran to hide behind the TARDIS, if there was anything they knew and didn’t tell him.
All these little paradoxes could be a side-effect of a larger paradox, but the Time Lords, would never allow something like that to happen. Unless they caused it themselves, of course.
But why would they? A paradox could be used as a weapon, but using a weapon that twisted and possibly broke a timeline was…
… was not something he’d put beyond them, not anymore. Still, there was the question of motivation, and, as he covered his ears to protect them from the noise of the explosion, he couldn’t think of anything to justify something like that, not even for them.
It wasn’t like they were at war or something like that.
The smoke drifted away and revealed a gaping hole in the wall beside the door. Well, close enough.
The Doctor stepped outside and looked left and right down the corridor without discovering anything useful. Soon enough, though, he would be poked with guns again if he stayed here, so he randomly chose a direction and shortly after heard a shrill voice yelling civilized insults and calling for help. It hurt his ears even from a distance, but at least it made Mel easy to find.
By the sound of it the famous last second was only minutes away. The Doctor sped up his steps and left all thoughts of paradoxes behind as he once again ran to save a female human from the clutches of a fire-spitting dragon.
Or, in this case, a group of nurses and a janitor.
December 8, 2007