Nov. 27th, 2011 09:02 am
Our faces are vizards to our hearts
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savvyliterateTitle: Our faces are vizards to our hearts
Author:savvyliterate
Fandom/Characters: Doctor Who, Eleven/River
Rating: K+
Word Count: 1,278
Spoilers: Despite appearances, this is not a crossover. It's up to you to decide what the Doctor did at the end of the story.
Summary: Elizabeth led an ordinary, happy life. But, she always felt there was something that was missing, something just beyond her fingertips.
Elizabeth really had a very ordinary life. One that she was perfectly happy with. Oh, there were all the normal pressures associated with being a trauma surgeon, but this was her career and her passion. She had a good home, good friends, and worked in a hospital that she adored. Her relationship with her parents could be far worse than it was really given the circumstances.
"You look tired," a co-worker observed one day.
"Stress," she said with a dismissive wave and a smile, taking the offered clipboard and not quite seeing the patient charts attached to it.
Stress, she thought, and odd dreams.
-----
"Help me!"
"Silence must fall."
"You must be very, very brave."
"I can't let you die!"
"What am I doing?"
"As you're told."
-----
Elizabeth woke as time disintegrated around her, even though she could still feel the ghost memories of the bowtie's rough-smooth silky texture in her hands. She rolled onto her side, rested her hand on the pillow next to hers and thought she could smell time. No one could smell time. Someone's missing, she thought, and absently caressed the pillow.
-----
"You're not interested in Mark?" Her best friend leaned over the desk, resting her elbows on it as she gave Elizabeth a look that clearly said, “You have got to be the craziest person in this hospital.”
"I thought I was," Elizabeth admitted as she quickly took a gulp of coffee.
"What happened?"
Elizabeth pursed her lips and thought of that bowtie. "He’s not the right kind of doctor," she admitted.
-----
"I am telling you. Can't you read?"
"All, my love, in fear of you."
"That was low, even for you"
"Help me, Mr. President!"
----
There was a man sitting at the foot of her bed.
She wondered if she was still dreaming. He didn't seem entirely real, this man. He flickered in and out as he watched her. Dark hair, she surmised. Dark hair, old eyes. Old soul. Such full of longing. She found herself aching to hold him.
But then he was gone, and she knew he had to have been a dream.
Tears rolled down her cheeks.
-----
Elizabeth suddenly whipped around, the surgical team stilling as she stared at the door.
"Is something wrong, Doctor?” one of the interns asked.
She swallowed hard and forced herself to return to saving the life before her. "Nothing. Just thought I saw something out of the corner of my eye." Something with beady eyes and a skeletal head, she thought as she willed her hands to remain steady. But, there was nothing there. She needed more sleep.
-----
"And what sort of time do you call this?"
"Help me!"
"I'm sorry, my love."
-----
She opened her eyes and saw the man at the foot of her bed again. She reached for him, her fingertips just grazing the tweed coat he wore. He smiled, said something that she couldn’t hear. Then, he flickered away.
-----
"Maybe you need a few days off," her boss suggested
"I'm absolutely fine," Elizabeth said just as the emergency room doors burst open and several robots that greatly resembled oversized pepper pots.
"What are those?" One of the nurses called.
"Daleks." The name burst out of Elizabeth before she even realize she said it. She knew those creatures. But, she'd never seen them before. It wasn't possible.
“How do you know that?” her boss snapped.
"Run! Just run!" she yelled.
"Exterminate!" One of the Daleks intoned and promptly did just that to one of the patients.
-----
She wasn't sure how she knew to do what she did. Elizabeth managed to get everyone into one of the ORs. She had her boss bar the door. Then, she'd gone into the hospital basement to find fuse boxes, wires and cables, rewiring things in a way that by frying the hospital's electrical systems, she could kill them all.
And she did.
As she prepared to take them out, the lead Dalek aimed its eye stalk at her, scanning her.
“You are River Song,” it croaked. “You are connected with the Doctor.”
"Who's River Song?" Elizabeth asked.
Then she killed them all.
-----
They stood in the street, huddled beneath blankets and clutching styrofoam cups of coffee as they tended to patients and comforted each other. They’d evacuated from the hospital until the generators could be up and running. Elizabeth was suppose to be helping, but she couldn't quite stop shaking.
She's not sure what made her look over her shoulder, but she suddenly saw him. The man with the dark hair and the tweed and the bowtie. He seemed real this time. A blue box, an old police box from her homeland, was behind him. He just stared at her, looking ancient, wise, hopeful and sad at the same time.
"Doctor?" Like with the Daleks, Elizabeth spoke the word before she realized what she said. That can't be, she thought. Doctor who? How did she know who this man was?"
He held up something. A pocket watch, the ancient gold and wood gleaming in the palm of his calloused hand. He glanced at the hospital, then at her and seemed to be weighing some very important problem. "I'm sorry, River," he said, then opened the watch.
And she remembered.
Everything.
She clasped her hands to her mouth. Such an Elizabeth thing to do, she thought as those memories were rapidly shuttered to a remote corner of her mind where she wouldn't remember. Then she swallowed, set her shoulders and smiled through her tears.
"Hello, sweetie."
-----
It was a chameleon arch, he explained when they were wrapped around each other later, bodies sated and their souls at peace. One last ditch effort by the Church to rein her in. They'd taken everything that had been River Song and locked it away, sending her to a hospital in Chicago in the late 20th century where they could keep an eye on her.
They hadn't counted on the Doctor being extremely pissed to arrive at the Stormcage to find that his wife had been kidnapped and brainwashed.
"Again."
"Only three times if you count your birth. Really, you've rescued me a lot more times than that."
"I hate being the damsel in distress." River scowled at the ceiling.
The Doctor barked out a laugh. "You nearly threw off the effects of the arch completely on your own. You rewired a hospital to kill a Dalek army, and you didn't even know who you were." He lightly tapped her nose. "But," he admitted, "I didn't want to do it."
"Do what? Let me remember?" River redirected her scowl at him. "Don't you even dare consider that."
"I did,” the Doctor admitted. “You've been through enough. If you could lead a normal …"
"Finish that thought, my love, and I'm finding an airlock to shove you out of."
"The TARDIS doesn't have airlocks."
"She'd make one for me just to shove you out of." She framed his face in her hands. "I keep telling you, when you try to make decisions for me, I tend to react in very unpredictable ways."
"Which is why I opened the watch. And because I'm a selfish, selfish man and didn’t want to give you up.”
"And I'm a selfish woman, which means I'm not going anywhere." River sat up, jerking the covers back and smoothing her hands over his chest. His hearts pulsed beneath her fingertips. "So, what happened to the Church members who used the chameleon arch on me, my love?"
"Oh, I used it on them.” His hands, long, slim fingers, slid over hers and squeezed. “Rewrote their memories. I put them in the worst hell imaginable."
"Really? Where's that?"
The Doctor smiled.
Author:
savvyliterateFandom/Characters: Doctor Who, Eleven/River
Rating: K+
Word Count: 1,278
Spoilers: Despite appearances, this is not a crossover. It's up to you to decide what the Doctor did at the end of the story.
Summary: Elizabeth led an ordinary, happy life. But, she always felt there was something that was missing, something just beyond her fingertips.
Elizabeth really had a very ordinary life. One that she was perfectly happy with. Oh, there were all the normal pressures associated with being a trauma surgeon, but this was her career and her passion. She had a good home, good friends, and worked in a hospital that she adored. Her relationship with her parents could be far worse than it was really given the circumstances.
"You look tired," a co-worker observed one day.
"Stress," she said with a dismissive wave and a smile, taking the offered clipboard and not quite seeing the patient charts attached to it.
Stress, she thought, and odd dreams.
-----
"Help me!"
"Silence must fall."
"You must be very, very brave."
"I can't let you die!"
"What am I doing?"
"As you're told."
-----
Elizabeth woke as time disintegrated around her, even though she could still feel the ghost memories of the bowtie's rough-smooth silky texture in her hands. She rolled onto her side, rested her hand on the pillow next to hers and thought she could smell time. No one could smell time. Someone's missing, she thought, and absently caressed the pillow.
-----
"You're not interested in Mark?" Her best friend leaned over the desk, resting her elbows on it as she gave Elizabeth a look that clearly said, “You have got to be the craziest person in this hospital.”
"I thought I was," Elizabeth admitted as she quickly took a gulp of coffee.
"What happened?"
Elizabeth pursed her lips and thought of that bowtie. "He’s not the right kind of doctor," she admitted.
-----
"I am telling you. Can't you read?"
"All, my love, in fear of you."
"That was low, even for you"
"Help me, Mr. President!"
----
There was a man sitting at the foot of her bed.
She wondered if she was still dreaming. He didn't seem entirely real, this man. He flickered in and out as he watched her. Dark hair, she surmised. Dark hair, old eyes. Old soul. Such full of longing. She found herself aching to hold him.
But then he was gone, and she knew he had to have been a dream.
Tears rolled down her cheeks.
-----
Elizabeth suddenly whipped around, the surgical team stilling as she stared at the door.
"Is something wrong, Doctor?” one of the interns asked.
She swallowed hard and forced herself to return to saving the life before her. "Nothing. Just thought I saw something out of the corner of my eye." Something with beady eyes and a skeletal head, she thought as she willed her hands to remain steady. But, there was nothing there. She needed more sleep.
-----
"And what sort of time do you call this?"
"Help me!"
"I'm sorry, my love."
-----
She opened her eyes and saw the man at the foot of her bed again. She reached for him, her fingertips just grazing the tweed coat he wore. He smiled, said something that she couldn’t hear. Then, he flickered away.
-----
"Maybe you need a few days off," her boss suggested
"I'm absolutely fine," Elizabeth said just as the emergency room doors burst open and several robots that greatly resembled oversized pepper pots.
"What are those?" One of the nurses called.
"Daleks." The name burst out of Elizabeth before she even realize she said it. She knew those creatures. But, she'd never seen them before. It wasn't possible.
“How do you know that?” her boss snapped.
"Run! Just run!" she yelled.
"Exterminate!" One of the Daleks intoned and promptly did just that to one of the patients.
-----
She wasn't sure how she knew to do what she did. Elizabeth managed to get everyone into one of the ORs. She had her boss bar the door. Then, she'd gone into the hospital basement to find fuse boxes, wires and cables, rewiring things in a way that by frying the hospital's electrical systems, she could kill them all.
And she did.
As she prepared to take them out, the lead Dalek aimed its eye stalk at her, scanning her.
“You are River Song,” it croaked. “You are connected with the Doctor.”
"Who's River Song?" Elizabeth asked.
Then she killed them all.
-----
They stood in the street, huddled beneath blankets and clutching styrofoam cups of coffee as they tended to patients and comforted each other. They’d evacuated from the hospital until the generators could be up and running. Elizabeth was suppose to be helping, but she couldn't quite stop shaking.
She's not sure what made her look over her shoulder, but she suddenly saw him. The man with the dark hair and the tweed and the bowtie. He seemed real this time. A blue box, an old police box from her homeland, was behind him. He just stared at her, looking ancient, wise, hopeful and sad at the same time.
"Doctor?" Like with the Daleks, Elizabeth spoke the word before she realized what she said. That can't be, she thought. Doctor who? How did she know who this man was?"
He held up something. A pocket watch, the ancient gold and wood gleaming in the palm of his calloused hand. He glanced at the hospital, then at her and seemed to be weighing some very important problem. "I'm sorry, River," he said, then opened the watch.
And she remembered.
Everything.
She clasped her hands to her mouth. Such an Elizabeth thing to do, she thought as those memories were rapidly shuttered to a remote corner of her mind where she wouldn't remember. Then she swallowed, set her shoulders and smiled through her tears.
"Hello, sweetie."
-----
It was a chameleon arch, he explained when they were wrapped around each other later, bodies sated and their souls at peace. One last ditch effort by the Church to rein her in. They'd taken everything that had been River Song and locked it away, sending her to a hospital in Chicago in the late 20th century where they could keep an eye on her.
They hadn't counted on the Doctor being extremely pissed to arrive at the Stormcage to find that his wife had been kidnapped and brainwashed.
"Again."
"Only three times if you count your birth. Really, you've rescued me a lot more times than that."
"I hate being the damsel in distress." River scowled at the ceiling.
The Doctor barked out a laugh. "You nearly threw off the effects of the arch completely on your own. You rewired a hospital to kill a Dalek army, and you didn't even know who you were." He lightly tapped her nose. "But," he admitted, "I didn't want to do it."
"Do what? Let me remember?" River redirected her scowl at him. "Don't you even dare consider that."
"I did,” the Doctor admitted. “You've been through enough. If you could lead a normal …"
"Finish that thought, my love, and I'm finding an airlock to shove you out of."
"The TARDIS doesn't have airlocks."
"She'd make one for me just to shove you out of." She framed his face in her hands. "I keep telling you, when you try to make decisions for me, I tend to react in very unpredictable ways."
"Which is why I opened the watch. And because I'm a selfish, selfish man and didn’t want to give you up.”
"And I'm a selfish woman, which means I'm not going anywhere." River sat up, jerking the covers back and smoothing her hands over his chest. His hearts pulsed beneath her fingertips. "So, what happened to the Church members who used the chameleon arch on me, my love?"
"Oh, I used it on them.” His hands, long, slim fingers, slid over hers and squeezed. “Rewrote their memories. I put them in the worst hell imaginable."
"Really? Where's that?"
The Doctor smiled.