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Rebel Doctor, Regeneration Episode
Fandom: Doctor Who (AU with Alternate Doctor)
Rating: ...PG?
DISCLAIMER: ...I'm one of the people who puts fan in fanfiction.
Thomas Martin woke up and realized that the previous insanity had not been a dream when he realized where he was-lying in a twisted position, half muffled in mist, on a grate floor. He sat up, gingerly fingered where his head had made contact with the cold, smooth ironwork, woozy and not altogether happy about his current situation.
He couldn't outrun it. It seemed to follow him wherever he went. He became aware of an odd sensation within his right chest and put a palm up, pressing it into his skin, breathing deeply.
...Two...hearts?
It couldn't be. But no amount of taking his pulse could find anything else. He had two hearts. He realized that he'd also been holding his breath the whole time, since he'd come to the realization-must be several minutes now. Nah. But he couldn't find anything in his mind to contradict the theory, and his lungs felt only slightly strained.
As he let his chest rise and fall in an exaggerated fashion, loving the oxygen, however cold and slightly damp, his mind struggled to catch up.
"What have I become?" he breathed into the silence, hearing the words echo around him, distorted, playing with his mind. Whatever setting this was, whoever had designed the interior of this place, they'd decided on the 'spooky' setting.
No answers were forthcoming, so he felt cataloguing everything he knew would be a good idea. Without any paper or writing implements nearby, he simply drew them in the swirling fog sluggishly moving around his finger, stating the words out loud as if they were an alien language, as if he'd never heard them before, and yet with a strength and confidence that shook even him.
I was Thomas Martin. Human. Seventeen. Then I...freaked out...in the woods. Had a vision, or a hallucination. And then some weird...I dunno, ghost or water lady talked to me. What did she say?
Rebellious Doctor. That's what she called me. Rebel Doctor. Hmm.
He took a break from the cataloguing, a smile dancing about his lips. "I like the sound of that," he whispered to the mist and iron, uncaring that they were inanimate objects and couldn't hear him. He didn't much care. "Rebel Doctor. I am...The Doctor." The title sounded right in his mouth, meaning so much more than its usual. "I like that." He stared off into space, smiling a little, ignoring the niggling worry in the back of his mind that all this strange behavior plus the strange sights meant that his mind had disappeared off somewhere, and wasn't coming back. Maybe he was barmy, but he was having the time of his life and relentlessly refused to give that up. He went back to drawing on the floor.
Feat, even for this particular soul? Well, that must mean that...I'm rebellious, even for a rebellious soul's standards. But whose? Mine? Hers? If mine, what does that mean-reincarnation, what? Terror of the Five Lands? The thoughts and blessings of a creepy water-fairy lady. Okay, great. Really useful there.
It really hurt. And now I have two hearts, and something weird might be going on with my lungs too. What's going on?
Suddenly changed into something not-human. And the stars judged me, and found me wanting, for now at least. Although they saw the potential, what I might become.
Parents and other authority figures are always telling me the same. I think I believe the stars more.
Beautiful, but it HURT. Of course, if every single cell in my body was reconfiguring to a different architectural plan than that of a human, this sort of pain would be an easy byproduct. In fact, I'd be surprised if it didn't hurt.
What do I know? I mean, really, in the end, what DO I know?
That I'm in pain. That I've changed into something else-something not quite, if at all, fully human. Alien, perhaps? That I should be more freaked out than I am, and I am freaked out. A bit. Mostly I'm wanting to run from everything. Is that normal? Am I okay? ...is any of this normal? ...am I crazy? ...is this happening?
So...what do I do about this? Freaking out won't help, but will it make me feel better? I don't know, honestly. What is this thing, anyway? Disguised. As a tree? Who came up with that?
Oh, okay, so maybe anything else would stand out a bit more in the forest. But still. Seriously. A tree?
What do I do about this anyway?
Well...I don't want to go home. I doubt I can act normal. And they'll figure out, and freak out more than this really deserves, no matter how strange all of this is, and then they'll call doctors, who I'm pretty sure wouldn't have a clue. I mean, if I'm an alien or something, they're not likely to have had previous experience with me, are they?
So then what? Wander around until I figure out what's going on? That's gonna be kinda difficult. I mean, it's not as if I can sneak out of the country. I don't have any money and I don't have a clue of how to get across borders without being noticed. My family will probably put out a 'missing person's alert' if I disappear. Definitely don't want that, and they'll probably think it's due to crime or something, instead of me just going walkabout. Besides, the airport scans might pick up my second heart, and I'm sure the government or someone else would absolutely love to get their hands on me. And their methods of figuring me out would probably be more...invasive.
Well, if nothing else, I can step outside. Maybe talk to a forest rodent or two. Since they seemed to be talking to me earlier. Would they know anything?
He took another deep breath, feeling the anxiety in his stomach settle down to a mere flicker. He had a plan. He felt prepared, ready for anything now. Silly, that just a simple thought made him so much less panicky.
Unfortunately, the doors wouldn't open. They just refused, squatting in place, grinning at him, making fun of him. He started losing his calm demeanor quickly, and after a few minutes was cursing under his breath at them, fumbling all over the console looking for the correct switch. Such a complicated console-he was afraid of hitting something wrong and...blowing it up. Or something.
He closed his eyes, and realized that he actually hadn't hit any buttons or pulled any levers. His hands were clumsily missing, as he became increasingly flustered. Or...had they? Had his subconscious perhaps been attempting to stop him from doing anything with nasty consequences? Either way, this wasn't good.
He breathed in, and out. In, and out. Before he knew it, he'd hit a rhythm-relaxing, as his mind came down to tranquility. Again. People had told him for years that yoga and breathing exercises actually worked. Until now, he didn't believe them. For some reason, it actually worked this time. This time, he let his mind float along, and imagined his hand raising in the current, being carried with the flowing air...
His eyes popped open, as his fingers ran over something metal, smooth, perfect beneath his fingers. He almost caressed it, hoping that this was right, that she was behaving herself. His mind was so much out of it that he didn't even bother to question who 'she' was. "Here goes," he muttered, and hit it. The doors opened, with a strange, mechanical sound. In a moment of insanity, he expected a blasted fanfare. Nothing. So he stepped out.
Fandom: Doctor Who (AU with Alternate Doctor)
Rating: ...PG?
DISCLAIMER: ...I'm one of the people who puts fan in fanfiction.
Thomas Martin woke up and realized that the previous insanity had not been a dream when he realized where he was-lying in a twisted position, half muffled in mist, on a grate floor. He sat up, gingerly fingered where his head had made contact with the cold, smooth ironwork, woozy and not altogether happy about his current situation.
He couldn't outrun it. It seemed to follow him wherever he went. He became aware of an odd sensation within his right chest and put a palm up, pressing it into his skin, breathing deeply.
...Two...hearts?
It couldn't be. But no amount of taking his pulse could find anything else. He had two hearts. He realized that he'd also been holding his breath the whole time, since he'd come to the realization-must be several minutes now. Nah. But he couldn't find anything in his mind to contradict the theory, and his lungs felt only slightly strained.
As he let his chest rise and fall in an exaggerated fashion, loving the oxygen, however cold and slightly damp, his mind struggled to catch up.
"What have I become?" he breathed into the silence, hearing the words echo around him, distorted, playing with his mind. Whatever setting this was, whoever had designed the interior of this place, they'd decided on the 'spooky' setting.
No answers were forthcoming, so he felt cataloguing everything he knew would be a good idea. Without any paper or writing implements nearby, he simply drew them in the swirling fog sluggishly moving around his finger, stating the words out loud as if they were an alien language, as if he'd never heard them before, and yet with a strength and confidence that shook even him.
I was Thomas Martin. Human. Seventeen. Then I...freaked out...in the woods. Had a vision, or a hallucination. And then some weird...I dunno, ghost or water lady talked to me. What did she say?
Rebellious Doctor. That's what she called me. Rebel Doctor. Hmm.
He took a break from the cataloguing, a smile dancing about his lips. "I like the sound of that," he whispered to the mist and iron, uncaring that they were inanimate objects and couldn't hear him. He didn't much care. "Rebel Doctor. I am...The Doctor." The title sounded right in his mouth, meaning so much more than its usual. "I like that." He stared off into space, smiling a little, ignoring the niggling worry in the back of his mind that all this strange behavior plus the strange sights meant that his mind had disappeared off somewhere, and wasn't coming back. Maybe he was barmy, but he was having the time of his life and relentlessly refused to give that up. He went back to drawing on the floor.
Feat, even for this particular soul? Well, that must mean that...I'm rebellious, even for a rebellious soul's standards. But whose? Mine? Hers? If mine, what does that mean-reincarnation, what? Terror of the Five Lands? The thoughts and blessings of a creepy water-fairy lady. Okay, great. Really useful there.
It really hurt. And now I have two hearts, and something weird might be going on with my lungs too. What's going on?
Suddenly changed into something not-human. And the stars judged me, and found me wanting, for now at least. Although they saw the potential, what I might become.
Parents and other authority figures are always telling me the same. I think I believe the stars more.
Beautiful, but it HURT. Of course, if every single cell in my body was reconfiguring to a different architectural plan than that of a human, this sort of pain would be an easy byproduct. In fact, I'd be surprised if it didn't hurt.
What do I know? I mean, really, in the end, what DO I know?
That I'm in pain. That I've changed into something else-something not quite, if at all, fully human. Alien, perhaps? That I should be more freaked out than I am, and I am freaked out. A bit. Mostly I'm wanting to run from everything. Is that normal? Am I okay? ...is any of this normal? ...am I crazy? ...is this happening?
So...what do I do about this? Freaking out won't help, but will it make me feel better? I don't know, honestly. What is this thing, anyway? Disguised. As a tree? Who came up with that?
Oh, okay, so maybe anything else would stand out a bit more in the forest. But still. Seriously. A tree?
What do I do about this anyway?
Well...I don't want to go home. I doubt I can act normal. And they'll figure out, and freak out more than this really deserves, no matter how strange all of this is, and then they'll call doctors, who I'm pretty sure wouldn't have a clue. I mean, if I'm an alien or something, they're not likely to have had previous experience with me, are they?
So then what? Wander around until I figure out what's going on? That's gonna be kinda difficult. I mean, it's not as if I can sneak out of the country. I don't have any money and I don't have a clue of how to get across borders without being noticed. My family will probably put out a 'missing person's alert' if I disappear. Definitely don't want that, and they'll probably think it's due to crime or something, instead of me just going walkabout. Besides, the airport scans might pick up my second heart, and I'm sure the government or someone else would absolutely love to get their hands on me. And their methods of figuring me out would probably be more...invasive.
Well, if nothing else, I can step outside. Maybe talk to a forest rodent or two. Since they seemed to be talking to me earlier. Would they know anything?
He took another deep breath, feeling the anxiety in his stomach settle down to a mere flicker. He had a plan. He felt prepared, ready for anything now. Silly, that just a simple thought made him so much less panicky.
Unfortunately, the doors wouldn't open. They just refused, squatting in place, grinning at him, making fun of him. He started losing his calm demeanor quickly, and after a few minutes was cursing under his breath at them, fumbling all over the console looking for the correct switch. Such a complicated console-he was afraid of hitting something wrong and...blowing it up. Or something.
He closed his eyes, and realized that he actually hadn't hit any buttons or pulled any levers. His hands were clumsily missing, as he became increasingly flustered. Or...had they? Had his subconscious perhaps been attempting to stop him from doing anything with nasty consequences? Either way, this wasn't good.
He breathed in, and out. In, and out. Before he knew it, he'd hit a rhythm-relaxing, as his mind came down to tranquility. Again. People had told him for years that yoga and breathing exercises actually worked. Until now, he didn't believe them. For some reason, it actually worked this time. This time, he let his mind float along, and imagined his hand raising in the current, being carried with the flowing air...
His eyes popped open, as his fingers ran over something metal, smooth, perfect beneath his fingers. He almost caressed it, hoping that this was right, that she was behaving herself. His mind was so much out of it that he didn't even bother to question who 'she' was. "Here goes," he muttered, and hit it. The doors opened, with a strange, mechanical sound. In a moment of insanity, he expected a blasted fanfare. Nothing. So he stepped out.
