Character/Pairing: introspective Ten, Ten/Rose
Summary: In chapter seven of Mysterious Ways the Doctor wanders off for a little bit. What does he see in those few minutes?
Disclaimer: Alas, no. And it really won't be a surprise at all where the title and end quote comes from. I'll happily sell this sunburn though...
a/n: Unfortunately, it's not the next chapter. Real life has been kicking me good and hard lately, so chapter 15 and everything else is taking a lot longer than I'd like to get down on the page. This bit, however, is helping me work through a stylistic issue I'm having with that part, so hopefully this is a good sign. Since I think it could stand on its own as a ficlet, I'm taking a chance and posting it here.
Previous parts of Mysterious Ways and the rest of the Sonnetsverse found here.
Thanks for reading!
The chapel is mostly abandoned at this time of day. The only people there, the Doctor notes, are a couple of people cleaning the altar in preparation for the next day’s ceremonies. He looks around the rest of the chapel. It’s a typical setup, dark and dusty atmosphere, rows of pews lain out before him, stained glass windows with pictures of overly tortured martyrs, and the Stations of the Cross tacked to the walls in between them. No interesting frescoes, however. He’s a bit disappointed in that, really. The only thing that could be remotely interesting is the pounding music bleeding in through the walls from another building nearby. And it doesn’t quite sound like something the parishioners would choose to listen to.
“The priests must love hearing that in the morning,” he mutters, spinning on one of his trainers and walking along the behind the pews.
His mind’s not in it, though his body paces back and forth. His mind is still back on the TARDIS, trying to decipher that bloody book. There’s something there, some reason that it’s telling their story and adding an extra ending that hasn’t happened, but he can’t figure out why.
As he paces, the Doctor’s mind whirs, flying about through centuries of history and events that haven’t happened, haven’t happened yet, never would happen. The physical space around him seems to solidify, and some part of his brain registers that it feels like he’s walking through something gelatinous, almost like an odd sort of force field. Time is slowing down, he recognizes, and it may be because of the Time Lord himself.
What’s the purpose, he thinks, as time flows slowly around him. Why are these things popping up now? Is the universe trying to exact one last revenge upon him by driving him completely round the twist?
No, that can’t be it, the Doctor winces. There’s something rather silly about that scenario, and nothing that’s been happening lately is silly. His head tips back, the plaster and boards of the ceiling whirling before his eyes, and he feels like he’s been set spinning in the vortex without a capsule. He squeezes his eyes shut. Why the hell is he being told this?!
…tell me something true…
Round and round he goes…
“Those bloody stupid kids!” The loud voice snaps him out of his time stupor, bringing him back to reality with a clang. His head tips down and his eyes open, only to see one of the people running down a side aisle of the chapel with a plastic bucket. “Every time, right before a holy day,” the woman mutters as she bustles past him, the bucket sloshing water onto his trainers.
The Doctor twists just in time to see the woman throw the bucket of water at the door of one of the confessional booths. The chalked on graffiti slides off of the wooden paneling in a wave of white, splashing on the stone floor. But in those few seconds before it was erased, the Doctor got a clear view at what words were scrawled on there.
Maybe it’s pure coincidence, or timey-wimey stuff, or just blind, dumb, stinking luck. He’s not going to stick around and question it, however. Then and there he decides that Martha and Donna can have their day in Venice, but as soon as midnight hits it’s back to the TARDIS like Cinderella for them and he’ll be able to finally bury himself in that book. Once and for all, he’s going to decipher the damn thing.
Besides, if there’s one thing that he believes in, it’s her.
Love, lift me up out of these blues
Won’t you tell me something true
I believe in you…
- Elevation, U2