Watson's Ghost. Part Five, Ten/Rose.
May. 29th, 2006 06:26 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
misscamWatson's Ghost 5/?
by Camilla Sandman
Disclaimer: Just written for my own and other's amusement, BBC. Please not be suing me.
Rating: Mature, eventually.
Summary: Wherein the Doctor and Rose face a murder charge, Rose walks with ghosts, the Doctor tries for life and an alliance changes its nature. [Ten/Rose]
Author's Note: Prompt 029 for![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
50lyricsfanfic (just give me one more moment, another walk out in the sun; one more day to find some justice with your shadow by my side - As One - Dropkick Murphys). Written for an anon request in my LJ. Thanks to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
lotus79 for beta-ing and being awesome. Love ya, darling.
Table of Prompts
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
II
A Memory: Wherein Virgot becomes
Hatred, it is known, comes from many places. It can be taught, from parent to child, from friend to friend, from enemy to enemy. It be nursed, from prejudice, from jealousy, from fear. It can be brought with from many places, from childhood, from youth, from half-forgotten memories.
Virgot doesn't know where his comes from. He just knows that it is, and he feels it, feels it until his knife cuts into flesh and all he can see is blood. He didn't know there could be so much blood, and it's everywhere and on him too. He backs away, terrified, and feels strangers' eyes on him, already condemning.
He's killing someone. He's killing Berho. He's death, and blood reeks.
He runs, and leaves the smell of blood behind.
Afterwards, he can scarce remember it, and he thinks it wasn't so bad after all.
He could even do it again.
II
Part Five: Wherein no harm is meant but may still be caused, sleuthing is conducted, a fellow is stupid, a message proves harder to hand over than assumed and the Doctor explains the price of a ghost
Rose has dressed, and showered, and she feels almost herself in her own clothes again. The Doctor has gone to pick up the TARDIS, and she wonders how long he's thinking they're going to stay here. Poshed up, the planet doesn't seem half bad. Her room is brightly lit and brightly decorated, paintings on the walls of places she has never been too and still recognises. There's Nattsjell, the tallest mountain of them all, and Natthjim, where the forests sing in summer.
Her mind is already singing the tune, and she smiles at it.
"It's lovely," she says softly and Berho smiles too. But she's already hearing a tune far more beautiful - the ancient hum of the TARDIS fading in stronger and stronger, and she feels almost proud as it comes into view, as if she's showing it off. As if it's half hers.
The door cracks open, and the Doctor looks out, wearing a straw hat. She glares at him.
"Up for some sleuthing, Watson?"
"I don't know, Holmes," she replies. "Did a farmer donate to the TARDIS clothes goodwill?"
The Doctor crosses his arms, looking crossed. "This belonged to a good friend of mine. Gil Grissom, top crime scene investigator. He'd be crushed if he heard you mock his hat. Come on, we've got crimes to solve and your ghostly friend can stop slacking and carry his weight around here."
She follows him into the TARDIS, shaking her head slightly. "Now he's my ghostly friend?"
He turns around sharply, looking at her with an intensity and anger that almost makes her step back. "Isn't he? Wouldn't you be hurt if I insulted him?"
She thinks, and she feels, and then she nods slowly. "Yeah, he is. He doesn't mean any harm, Doctor."
"I know you don't mean any harm," he says, lifting a hand to her cheek, looking almost grieved. "But I will have my Rose, and if you feel what she feels, you know that."
She doesn't even have time to react before he lets his hand fall again, fall to take her and pull her with to the console, tossing his hat off at the same time. She notices the stack of books piled up around it, and the titles make her smirk.
"Why are you reading crime books if you're the top investigator who hung out with Sherlock Holmes and out-thought Hercule Poirot?"
"Refreshing my memory," he says irritably. "I have a lot to store in there, I'll have you know. It gets a little dusty sometimes. Now look here, I've tapped into the Nattdvalvian Yellow Pages, so to speak. There's quite a few Virgot on this planet and our alien friends are still looking for the right one, all very eager to please, but I reckon your little ghost will know and save us some time."
She looks at the screen, and her finger seems to steer itself to point. "That one."
"Good ghost," the Doctor says absentmindedly, already turning controls and the TARDIS cranks up in response. "Now is this fellow stupid enough to hang around his home still?"
... Virgot silly Virgot, they all thought he was silly until he held a knife and it hurt then, hurt hurt hurt...
She steadies herself against the console and tries to remember how to breathe, and it hurts, oh, it hurts.
"Rose?"
"Yes," she manages. "The fellow is stupid enough for that."
"You okay?"
"I just... I remember."
He nods, and he's looking angry again, muttering things under his breath as he works the TARDIS console. She knows he's not angry at her and still it strangely hurts. She can even feel something sting her eyes and she blinks away what might be tears.
The TARDIS jolts to a stop, and the Doctor is halfway out the door before she's even had time to steady herself. She follows a bit more slowly, feeling her heart pound slightly at the thought of who they're looking for. Her killer, or almost her killer, or not quite her killer, or however it goes.
The air is a little cold as she steps out, but the dark sky feels strangely comforting to see again. She can breathe here. Now that she's grown used to the darkness of it, she thinks it rather beautiful.
"Rose!" the Doctor calls, and she sees he's already chatting up a young female, who looks terrified as Rose walks over.
"Rose, this is Meglan. Meglan, this is walker Rose. We're looking for Virgot. Do you know where he is?"
Meglan's eyes widen, and she nods furiously. "He likes to watch the stars and the sun from the outpost north, walker Rose. I... I hope he did not hurt you too bad?"
... blood blood choking on blood, fire of blood, and it burns and it is cold and he wants the pain to stop and every heartbeat is pain pain pain...
"I'll live," Rose mutters, and she almost wants to laugh at her own words. "Is he there now?"
"I think so," Meglan whispers. "Did... When you walked, did you breathe Nenna? My mother, she... Did you...?"
"No," she replies, and the girl bursts into tears and runs away, leaving Rose to stare after her helplessly. "Doctor... All these people, they hurt so much."
"I know," he says darkly. "They became so unwilling to let go of their dead that now the dead never let go of them. But I won't have it."
He takes her hand, clutching it, and it strikes her he might know all about being unwilling to let go.
"Remember, Rose... He didn't kill you. Even if it feels like it, try to remember he didn't."
"Okay," she agrees. "Let's find this guy then, super-sleuth."
"Reckon I can get a hat with that?"
"You're such a kid."
"Am not!"
"Are too!"
II
It takes surprisingly little sleuthing to find outpost north, a tower-like structure at the edge of the town she knows is Nattjern, and she remembers faintly the smell of it in summer, and knows it's spring now. The outposts are where the young gather, to dream of different planets and changing things, always talking of changing things.
The ideas just differ on what to change. Virgot had different ideas, Rose knows. Angry ideas.
"Should we knock, you think?" the Doctor asks, looking at the door as if it'll answer him.
"We're looking for a killer," she reminds him. He shrugs.
"We can still be polite. Holmes was polite. Miss Marple was all polite."
"Have it your way," she says, and knocks. There is a brief moment of silence while the Doctor gives her a wounded look she tries to ignore and not smile at, and then the door opens and she can't breathe at all.
... dying dying by Virgot why friend Virgot why why...
"Hello!" the Doctor says cheerfully. "You are quite stupid, aren't you?"
Rose isn't really listening, already moving towards Virgot, a fist balled. Oh, he is hurt, hurt all over, and she hurts and she has to pass it on, has to live, can't die, oh it hurts, hurts, hurts.
"Rose!" the Doctor says sharply, and she feels his hand yank her back and bring her face to face with him. "He didn't kill you! Remember!"
She feels almost slapped for a moment, warm and hot at the same time, and her head pounds with her heart so hard she almost wants to cry. She can feel Virgot looking at her, mouth open in fear at her, and it feels good, and he should feel more of it, oh yes, because he has no idea of what it's like and she knows, oh she knows.
"Rose," the Doctor says again, face so close she thinks he almost mean to kiss her. "Rose, you're Rose! You're not dead! Remember!"
She licks her lips. "Doctor?"
"Yes," he says firmly. "You know me. You listen to me. Well, except when you don't. You're here, with me, breathing."
"Yes," she agrees, and breathes in. "Sorry."
"Not your fault," he says angrily, then seems to check himself. "Hello, Virgot! I'm the Doctor, this is Rose Tyler. We met a while ago, you might remember it. Or not. I was the blurred shape chasing you. Very becoming on me, don't you think?"
"She's..." Virgot swallows, and for the first time, Rose thinks he looks rather small and not dangerous at all. "She's a walker?"
"See, that's the interesting thing," the Doctor goes on. From the tone of his voice, Rose would almost think him all calm, except for the steel grip he still has on her hand. "When you flee the scene of a crime and leave others there, sometimes people seem to get the idea that they did it. In this case, me and Rose. Rose?"
"What?"
"This is where your friend is meant to go. Kiss him and let him go."
Virgot looks terrified, but he doesn't move, only stares at her as she moves closer, hand still in the Doctor's. It's a comfort, and she needs it, because she really wants to just flee, run away to where there is no death and nothing hurts.
"I'm sorry," Virgot whispers, but that's not enough. She'll show him sorry, show him hurt, kiss him until he knows death, until he knows who he killed and will never know rest from it. Just a touch of lips, and she kisses her breath into him...
... and she's Virgot, Virgot hates hates hates and Virgot killed kills and so much hurt in there and no one loves Virgot and there are no hands to hold and Rose oh Rose, how can I live here when I know you...
She steps back so quickly she almost falls over and the Doctor looks at her with so much expectation it hurts. Virgot staggers slightly, but the relief on his face is a sunrise.
"He doesn't want to go," she whispers. "And I don't want him to go. It's hateful in there, Doctor. So cold and hateful."
"And you're warmer," the Doctor says, and he seems to almost stagger for a moment. "They knew! They knew it's not just delivering a message and yet they let you! They know what happens to those who walk, they've seen it."
"The ghosts of Nattdvalve do not possess," she says, and it's her voice and not her knowledge.
"No," he agrees. "They become. Everything you are, everything you know, everything you feel. Everything you'll want, he'll want just as much. Everything you fear, he'll fear as much. And he'll bleed into you too. He already is. They're not malicious. They just want to breathe with you."
"Is that so bad?" she whispers, and he closes his eyes briefly, a twitch passing across his face.
"Are you strong enough to carry all your pain, Rose?"
She bites her lip. "I think so."
"Twice over?" he asks, and she wants to reassure him somehow, because he's looking pained and she feels it, so much pain at his pain, suddenly unleashed like flood. "You lot lose your head easily enough over your emotions as they are. And this planet... Oh, they were brave. They walked with ghosts, and thought it wasn't so bad after all. Dare to live through a few deaths, and you could bring back a loved one. A small price to pay..."
He shakes his head with passion. "They had no idea. But they learned. They saw. And then they thought it would make a good sort of justice instead, and let the killers live for the killed. Two life energies. One life experience. So now only the very stupid and very young and the very condemned walk with ghosts and all of them lose their minds. The mind wasn't built for two, not even two of the same."
"I'm sorry," she whispers, and she is. She doesn't want to hurt him, but she can't let go like that. "Don't make me. Please don't make me."
"Oh, Rose," he mutters, pressing his forehead against hers so hard it hurts. "I can't let this happen."
She's not sure if that's a threat or a promise.
(To be continued...)
by Camilla Sandman
Disclaimer: Just written for my own and other's amusement, BBC. Please not be suing me.
Rating: Mature, eventually.
Summary: Wherein the Doctor and Rose face a murder charge, Rose walks with ghosts, the Doctor tries for life and an alliance changes its nature. [Ten/Rose]
Author's Note: Prompt 029 for
50lyricsfanfic (just give me one more moment, another walk out in the sun; one more day to find some justice with your shadow by my side - As One - Dropkick Murphys). Written for an anon request in my LJ. Thanks to lotus79 for beta-ing and being awesome. Love ya, darling. Table of Prompts
Part One
Part Two
Part Three
Part Four
II
A Memory: Wherein Virgot becomes
Hatred, it is known, comes from many places. It can be taught, from parent to child, from friend to friend, from enemy to enemy. It be nursed, from prejudice, from jealousy, from fear. It can be brought with from many places, from childhood, from youth, from half-forgotten memories.
Virgot doesn't know where his comes from. He just knows that it is, and he feels it, feels it until his knife cuts into flesh and all he can see is blood. He didn't know there could be so much blood, and it's everywhere and on him too. He backs away, terrified, and feels strangers' eyes on him, already condemning.
He's killing someone. He's killing Berho. He's death, and blood reeks.
He runs, and leaves the smell of blood behind.
Afterwards, he can scarce remember it, and he thinks it wasn't so bad after all.
He could even do it again.
II
Part Five: Wherein no harm is meant but may still be caused, sleuthing is conducted, a fellow is stupid, a message proves harder to hand over than assumed and the Doctor explains the price of a ghost
Rose has dressed, and showered, and she feels almost herself in her own clothes again. The Doctor has gone to pick up the TARDIS, and she wonders how long he's thinking they're going to stay here. Poshed up, the planet doesn't seem half bad. Her room is brightly lit and brightly decorated, paintings on the walls of places she has never been too and still recognises. There's Nattsjell, the tallest mountain of them all, and Natthjim, where the forests sing in summer.
Her mind is already singing the tune, and she smiles at it.
"It's lovely," she says softly and Berho smiles too. But she's already hearing a tune far more beautiful - the ancient hum of the TARDIS fading in stronger and stronger, and she feels almost proud as it comes into view, as if she's showing it off. As if it's half hers.
The door cracks open, and the Doctor looks out, wearing a straw hat. She glares at him.
"Up for some sleuthing, Watson?"
"I don't know, Holmes," she replies. "Did a farmer donate to the TARDIS clothes goodwill?"
The Doctor crosses his arms, looking crossed. "This belonged to a good friend of mine. Gil Grissom, top crime scene investigator. He'd be crushed if he heard you mock his hat. Come on, we've got crimes to solve and your ghostly friend can stop slacking and carry his weight around here."
She follows him into the TARDIS, shaking her head slightly. "Now he's my ghostly friend?"
He turns around sharply, looking at her with an intensity and anger that almost makes her step back. "Isn't he? Wouldn't you be hurt if I insulted him?"
She thinks, and she feels, and then she nods slowly. "Yeah, he is. He doesn't mean any harm, Doctor."
"I know you don't mean any harm," he says, lifting a hand to her cheek, looking almost grieved. "But I will have my Rose, and if you feel what she feels, you know that."
She doesn't even have time to react before he lets his hand fall again, fall to take her and pull her with to the console, tossing his hat off at the same time. She notices the stack of books piled up around it, and the titles make her smirk.
"Why are you reading crime books if you're the top investigator who hung out with Sherlock Holmes and out-thought Hercule Poirot?"
"Refreshing my memory," he says irritably. "I have a lot to store in there, I'll have you know. It gets a little dusty sometimes. Now look here, I've tapped into the Nattdvalvian Yellow Pages, so to speak. There's quite a few Virgot on this planet and our alien friends are still looking for the right one, all very eager to please, but I reckon your little ghost will know and save us some time."
She looks at the screen, and her finger seems to steer itself to point. "That one."
"Good ghost," the Doctor says absentmindedly, already turning controls and the TARDIS cranks up in response. "Now is this fellow stupid enough to hang around his home still?"
... Virgot silly Virgot, they all thought he was silly until he held a knife and it hurt then, hurt hurt hurt...
She steadies herself against the console and tries to remember how to breathe, and it hurts, oh, it hurts.
"Rose?"
"Yes," she manages. "The fellow is stupid enough for that."
"You okay?"
"I just... I remember."
He nods, and he's looking angry again, muttering things under his breath as he works the TARDIS console. She knows he's not angry at her and still it strangely hurts. She can even feel something sting her eyes and she blinks away what might be tears.
The TARDIS jolts to a stop, and the Doctor is halfway out the door before she's even had time to steady herself. She follows a bit more slowly, feeling her heart pound slightly at the thought of who they're looking for. Her killer, or almost her killer, or not quite her killer, or however it goes.
The air is a little cold as she steps out, but the dark sky feels strangely comforting to see again. She can breathe here. Now that she's grown used to the darkness of it, she thinks it rather beautiful.
"Rose!" the Doctor calls, and she sees he's already chatting up a young female, who looks terrified as Rose walks over.
"Rose, this is Meglan. Meglan, this is walker Rose. We're looking for Virgot. Do you know where he is?"
Meglan's eyes widen, and she nods furiously. "He likes to watch the stars and the sun from the outpost north, walker Rose. I... I hope he did not hurt you too bad?"
... blood blood choking on blood, fire of blood, and it burns and it is cold and he wants the pain to stop and every heartbeat is pain pain pain...
"I'll live," Rose mutters, and she almost wants to laugh at her own words. "Is he there now?"
"I think so," Meglan whispers. "Did... When you walked, did you breathe Nenna? My mother, she... Did you...?"
"No," she replies, and the girl bursts into tears and runs away, leaving Rose to stare after her helplessly. "Doctor... All these people, they hurt so much."
"I know," he says darkly. "They became so unwilling to let go of their dead that now the dead never let go of them. But I won't have it."
He takes her hand, clutching it, and it strikes her he might know all about being unwilling to let go.
"Remember, Rose... He didn't kill you. Even if it feels like it, try to remember he didn't."
"Okay," she agrees. "Let's find this guy then, super-sleuth."
"Reckon I can get a hat with that?"
"You're such a kid."
"Am not!"
"Are too!"
II
It takes surprisingly little sleuthing to find outpost north, a tower-like structure at the edge of the town she knows is Nattjern, and she remembers faintly the smell of it in summer, and knows it's spring now. The outposts are where the young gather, to dream of different planets and changing things, always talking of changing things.
The ideas just differ on what to change. Virgot had different ideas, Rose knows. Angry ideas.
"Should we knock, you think?" the Doctor asks, looking at the door as if it'll answer him.
"We're looking for a killer," she reminds him. He shrugs.
"We can still be polite. Holmes was polite. Miss Marple was all polite."
"Have it your way," she says, and knocks. There is a brief moment of silence while the Doctor gives her a wounded look she tries to ignore and not smile at, and then the door opens and she can't breathe at all.
... dying dying by Virgot why friend Virgot why why...
"Hello!" the Doctor says cheerfully. "You are quite stupid, aren't you?"
Rose isn't really listening, already moving towards Virgot, a fist balled. Oh, he is hurt, hurt all over, and she hurts and she has to pass it on, has to live, can't die, oh it hurts, hurts, hurts.
"Rose!" the Doctor says sharply, and she feels his hand yank her back and bring her face to face with him. "He didn't kill you! Remember!"
She feels almost slapped for a moment, warm and hot at the same time, and her head pounds with her heart so hard she almost wants to cry. She can feel Virgot looking at her, mouth open in fear at her, and it feels good, and he should feel more of it, oh yes, because he has no idea of what it's like and she knows, oh she knows.
"Rose," the Doctor says again, face so close she thinks he almost mean to kiss her. "Rose, you're Rose! You're not dead! Remember!"
She licks her lips. "Doctor?"
"Yes," he says firmly. "You know me. You listen to me. Well, except when you don't. You're here, with me, breathing."
"Yes," she agrees, and breathes in. "Sorry."
"Not your fault," he says angrily, then seems to check himself. "Hello, Virgot! I'm the Doctor, this is Rose Tyler. We met a while ago, you might remember it. Or not. I was the blurred shape chasing you. Very becoming on me, don't you think?"
"She's..." Virgot swallows, and for the first time, Rose thinks he looks rather small and not dangerous at all. "She's a walker?"
"See, that's the interesting thing," the Doctor goes on. From the tone of his voice, Rose would almost think him all calm, except for the steel grip he still has on her hand. "When you flee the scene of a crime and leave others there, sometimes people seem to get the idea that they did it. In this case, me and Rose. Rose?"
"What?"
"This is where your friend is meant to go. Kiss him and let him go."
Virgot looks terrified, but he doesn't move, only stares at her as she moves closer, hand still in the Doctor's. It's a comfort, and she needs it, because she really wants to just flee, run away to where there is no death and nothing hurts.
"I'm sorry," Virgot whispers, but that's not enough. She'll show him sorry, show him hurt, kiss him until he knows death, until he knows who he killed and will never know rest from it. Just a touch of lips, and she kisses her breath into him...
... and she's Virgot, Virgot hates hates hates and Virgot killed kills and so much hurt in there and no one loves Virgot and there are no hands to hold and Rose oh Rose, how can I live here when I know you...
She steps back so quickly she almost falls over and the Doctor looks at her with so much expectation it hurts. Virgot staggers slightly, but the relief on his face is a sunrise.
"He doesn't want to go," she whispers. "And I don't want him to go. It's hateful in there, Doctor. So cold and hateful."
"And you're warmer," the Doctor says, and he seems to almost stagger for a moment. "They knew! They knew it's not just delivering a message and yet they let you! They know what happens to those who walk, they've seen it."
"The ghosts of Nattdvalve do not possess," she says, and it's her voice and not her knowledge.
"No," he agrees. "They become. Everything you are, everything you know, everything you feel. Everything you'll want, he'll want just as much. Everything you fear, he'll fear as much. And he'll bleed into you too. He already is. They're not malicious. They just want to breathe with you."
"Is that so bad?" she whispers, and he closes his eyes briefly, a twitch passing across his face.
"Are you strong enough to carry all your pain, Rose?"
She bites her lip. "I think so."
"Twice over?" he asks, and she wants to reassure him somehow, because he's looking pained and she feels it, so much pain at his pain, suddenly unleashed like flood. "You lot lose your head easily enough over your emotions as they are. And this planet... Oh, they were brave. They walked with ghosts, and thought it wasn't so bad after all. Dare to live through a few deaths, and you could bring back a loved one. A small price to pay..."
He shakes his head with passion. "They had no idea. But they learned. They saw. And then they thought it would make a good sort of justice instead, and let the killers live for the killed. Two life energies. One life experience. So now only the very stupid and very young and the very condemned walk with ghosts and all of them lose their minds. The mind wasn't built for two, not even two of the same."
"I'm sorry," she whispers, and she is. She doesn't want to hurt him, but she can't let go like that. "Don't make me. Please don't make me."
"Oh, Rose," he mutters, pressing his forehead against hers so hard it hurts. "I can't let this happen."
She's not sure if that's a threat or a promise.
(To be continued...)
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-05-29 04:45 am (UTC)Found this off-putting:
This belong to a good friend of mine. Gil Grissom, top crime scene investigator.
Strange, that, when the Sherlock Holmes references don't put me off, but I suppose that Holmes is classic literature in the way Dickens and Shakespeare are, and I'd expect to see them referred to. It's not that unusual, too, for DW to treat Holmes as if he really existed. But the CSI reference (I'm assuming that's what the character is; the name's vaguely familiar from your LJ) really jerked me out of the story for a moment.
no subject
Date: 2006-05-29 04:49 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-29 05:18 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-05-29 05:55 am (UTC)It threw me off for a second amidst all the Holmes and Poirot references which seem to imply that Doctor Bell and Holmes existed in the same period :D
Anyways, been following the story's so far, and it's getting more interesting with each installment. I love the Doctor's comment on the "justice" system. *waits for the next*
no subject
Date: 2006-05-29 07:05 am (UTC)Fantastic
no subject
Date: 2006-05-29 08:03 am (UTC)And throwing Gil's hat in is too funny.
no subject
Date: 2006-05-29 08:26 am (UTC)I have to say I agree with wendymr - the Gil Grissom thing threw me out a little. Not sure why. I suppose because Holmes and Poirot are established and long established we can suspend our disbelief and consider they may have actually existed, or be based on actual people. With Grissom because it's from a current TV show we know it isn't and it's harder to suspend the disbelief. Also, would Rose not have heard of CSI or seen it? Would she not turn round to him and say 'but isn't that just some Hollywood actor'? Or is it the point that it's all nonsense and she knows it's all nonsense and is just playing along because she knows that he's just doing it to be daft and his usual 'Doctor-ish' self to try and make her smile and give some sense of 'normality' to the proceedings - to keep her sane and grounded?
I love it, though. Really. Can't wait for more! :D
no subject
Date: 2006-05-29 12:19 pm (UTC)As usual, your description are so spare and yet so effective and beautifully evocative.
On a very differen note..what's up with the new layout?
no subject
Date: 2006-05-29 05:01 pm (UTC)*wants to know what the Doctor's going to do about that.*