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fandomweekly2016-10-04 12:24 pm
but_can_i_be_trusted) wrote in fandomweekly2016-10-04 12:24 pm
Entry tags:
[#026] Unfamiliar Things (Doctor Who)
Theme Prompt: #26: Amnesia
Title: 'Unfamiliar Things'
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating/Warnings: G; very mild psychological horror
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 1,000
Summary: "If he'd just trust us, maybe we could get somewhere."
But he had another half-formed impression struggling in this flood of unfamiliar things, and he brought it to the surface before it could vanish.
~*~ G.K. Chesterton
from 'The Man Who Knew Too Much'
He slid his fingers through his hair, wincing at the resulting flare of pain.
Shouldn't have done that. Best not do it a second time.
Instead, he slumped against the wall, sliding down until he was on the floor. Balling his fists, he rested his forehead against them and listened to the voices.
There were people here with him. They acted as though they knew him--but he was prepared to swear that he'd never met them before. Never mind the odd flickers in his mind that tried to tell him otherwise.
They called him Doctor, but he couldn't understand that. Why refer to him by that title, when they were insisting that he needed medical attention? They'd hovered around him, until he'd pushed them away and begged for time to himself. He'd regretted it instantly; for all their pushiness, these people seemed to care, and he knew his rejection had hurt them.
So here he was, trying to think through the pain. Trying to remember. Listening in as those he'd found himself with muttered amongst themselves.
"What are we supposed to do," the ginger-haired girl asked. She seemed distraught. "How do we get the Doctor back?"
There was a sigh from the man who'd introduced himself as Rory. "I don't know. I don't think he's dealing with a concussion. He won't let me try to treat him."
"How long do you think the amnesia will last?" This was coming from the other woman, the one with the untamable curls.
"There's no way to know. If he'd only let us do something!" The man was frustrated, and the sound of pacing could be heard. "If he'd just trust us, maybe we could get somewhere." The pacing came to a stop. "River, you've got a connection to the TARDIS. Can she get into his head and help him?"
The curly-haired woman spoke again. "No. Whatever damage the Doctor suffered, it's probably going to scramble their link."
Hearing the odd words, he frowned. Link? TARDIS? What were they talking about?
Almost in reply, a strange, fuzzy buzz started up somewhere in his mind. He gasped, trying to push it away.
That must be what they were talking about. Whatever a TARDIS was, it seemed to be able to touch his brain.
It was a frightening prospect. One that he didn't think he wanted to have for a reality.
Shivering in revulsion, he wrapped his arms around himself. Hunched himself down as much as he could, making himself as small as it was possible for him to be.
No identity. Trapped in an odd, unfamiliar place. Surrounded by people who claimed to know him. With something weird trying to tap into his head.
Somebody help me! Who am I?
What am I doing here?
If this wasn't a nightmare--or Hell, which would probably be worse--then what was it?
"That's that," he heard the woman with the curls say. "She couldn't get past his barriers."
Now the other woman was outright crying. "Is that it, then? Do we give up, and wait until the Doctor remembers who he is?"
"I have an idea," Curly--no; she'd called herself River--announced, a touch of deviousness in her voice. Whoever she was, that tone suited her. "It could be dangerous, but it might work."
The man spoke up, surprised. "River? What are you doing?" His words were almost drowned out by the noises of engines. "Why are we taking off?"
This place had engines?
"I need you to help me. Go down to the lower level. Tear out every wire you find."
Footsteps pounded down one of the other sets of stairs, then paused. "Wait--why are we supposed to be doing this?" That Rory chap again; he was all questions.
"Just trust me."
He looked around him, startled, as mechanical groans filled the air. The walls and floor began to vibrate. Overhead, the lights started to flicker in an ominous fashion.
No--they couldn't tear out the wires--could they...?
Something tingled in his mind, churned in his stomach. Dread.
They couldn't--mustn't--do it. Such an act could lead to a fatal loss of control.
He could hear the machinery groaning louder, screaming in protest. The lights fizzled out almost completely, those closest to him bursting in a shower of sparks.
They couldn't...couldn't...
...but they were...
No!
Deep within, something clicked. Snapped into place. He gasped as memory flooded back.
This is me--this is who I am!
I am the Doctor!
And you are sabotaging my TARDIS!
"Stop," he shouted, throwing himself to his feet and racing down the steps. Hands grabbed for the controls. "Leave her alone! Don't you dare sever those wires!"
He zipped around the console, flipping switches and smacking at buttons. A quick glance at the monitor showed that they were coming perilously close to Gamma Crucis.
He continued his desperate circuit of the panels, doing everything he could. The instruments responded faithfully; apparently, he'd emerged just in time.
At last, satisfied that they were safe, he stopped. He stooped over the console, panting heavily.
"Welcome back, sweetie," River murmured.
"You are out of your mind," the Doctor muttered, casting a glance at her. "You could've gotten us all killed."
She smiled, brushing his hair out of his eyes. "I knew what I was doing."
Still on the lower set of steps, Amy and Rory were hanging on tight to each other, as though clinging to life rafts.
"And you two!" The Doctor pointed at them in feigned anger. "You were going to do what that woman said!" He glowered at them for a moment, letting them sweat, then beamed. "Good job. Always listen to River. She may be a devil, but she's clever. Now. Anybody care to escort me to the sick bay? I have a bump on the head that needs attention."
Title: 'Unfamiliar Things'
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating/Warnings: G; very mild psychological horror
Bonus: Yes
Word Count: 1,000
Summary: "If he'd just trust us, maybe we could get somewhere."
But he had another half-formed impression struggling in this flood of unfamiliar things, and he brought it to the surface before it could vanish.
~*~ G.K. Chesterton
from 'The Man Who Knew Too Much'
He slid his fingers through his hair, wincing at the resulting flare of pain.
Shouldn't have done that. Best not do it a second time.
Instead, he slumped against the wall, sliding down until he was on the floor. Balling his fists, he rested his forehead against them and listened to the voices.
There were people here with him. They acted as though they knew him--but he was prepared to swear that he'd never met them before. Never mind the odd flickers in his mind that tried to tell him otherwise.
They called him Doctor, but he couldn't understand that. Why refer to him by that title, when they were insisting that he needed medical attention? They'd hovered around him, until he'd pushed them away and begged for time to himself. He'd regretted it instantly; for all their pushiness, these people seemed to care, and he knew his rejection had hurt them.
So here he was, trying to think through the pain. Trying to remember. Listening in as those he'd found himself with muttered amongst themselves.
"What are we supposed to do," the ginger-haired girl asked. She seemed distraught. "How do we get the Doctor back?"
There was a sigh from the man who'd introduced himself as Rory. "I don't know. I don't think he's dealing with a concussion. He won't let me try to treat him."
"How long do you think the amnesia will last?" This was coming from the other woman, the one with the untamable curls.
"There's no way to know. If he'd only let us do something!" The man was frustrated, and the sound of pacing could be heard. "If he'd just trust us, maybe we could get somewhere." The pacing came to a stop. "River, you've got a connection to the TARDIS. Can she get into his head and help him?"
The curly-haired woman spoke again. "No. Whatever damage the Doctor suffered, it's probably going to scramble their link."
Hearing the odd words, he frowned. Link? TARDIS? What were they talking about?
Almost in reply, a strange, fuzzy buzz started up somewhere in his mind. He gasped, trying to push it away.
That must be what they were talking about. Whatever a TARDIS was, it seemed to be able to touch his brain.
It was a frightening prospect. One that he didn't think he wanted to have for a reality.
Shivering in revulsion, he wrapped his arms around himself. Hunched himself down as much as he could, making himself as small as it was possible for him to be.
No identity. Trapped in an odd, unfamiliar place. Surrounded by people who claimed to know him. With something weird trying to tap into his head.
Somebody help me! Who am I?
What am I doing here?
If this wasn't a nightmare--or Hell, which would probably be worse--then what was it?
"That's that," he heard the woman with the curls say. "She couldn't get past his barriers."
Now the other woman was outright crying. "Is that it, then? Do we give up, and wait until the Doctor remembers who he is?"
"I have an idea," Curly--no; she'd called herself River--announced, a touch of deviousness in her voice. Whoever she was, that tone suited her. "It could be dangerous, but it might work."
The man spoke up, surprised. "River? What are you doing?" His words were almost drowned out by the noises of engines. "Why are we taking off?"
This place had engines?
"I need you to help me. Go down to the lower level. Tear out every wire you find."
Footsteps pounded down one of the other sets of stairs, then paused. "Wait--why are we supposed to be doing this?" That Rory chap again; he was all questions.
"Just trust me."
He looked around him, startled, as mechanical groans filled the air. The walls and floor began to vibrate. Overhead, the lights started to flicker in an ominous fashion.
No--they couldn't tear out the wires--could they...?
Something tingled in his mind, churned in his stomach. Dread.
They couldn't--mustn't--do it. Such an act could lead to a fatal loss of control.
He could hear the machinery groaning louder, screaming in protest. The lights fizzled out almost completely, those closest to him bursting in a shower of sparks.
They couldn't...couldn't...
...but they were...
No!
Deep within, something clicked. Snapped into place. He gasped as memory flooded back.
This is me--this is who I am!
I am the Doctor!
And you are sabotaging my TARDIS!
"Stop," he shouted, throwing himself to his feet and racing down the steps. Hands grabbed for the controls. "Leave her alone! Don't you dare sever those wires!"
He zipped around the console, flipping switches and smacking at buttons. A quick glance at the monitor showed that they were coming perilously close to Gamma Crucis.
He continued his desperate circuit of the panels, doing everything he could. The instruments responded faithfully; apparently, he'd emerged just in time.
At last, satisfied that they were safe, he stopped. He stooped over the console, panting heavily.
"Welcome back, sweetie," River murmured.
"You are out of your mind," the Doctor muttered, casting a glance at her. "You could've gotten us all killed."
She smiled, brushing his hair out of his eyes. "I knew what I was doing."
Still on the lower set of steps, Amy and Rory were hanging on tight to each other, as though clinging to life rafts.
"And you two!" The Doctor pointed at them in feigned anger. "You were going to do what that woman said!" He glowered at them for a moment, letting them sweat, then beamed. "Good job. Always listen to River. She may be a devil, but she's clever. Now. Anybody care to escort me to the sick bay? I have a bump on the head that needs attention."
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