RP for renegadeinexile

[thecricketer]

The Doctor had his head beneath the console, a tool kit at his side, and his hands plunged in very delicate wiring.

He didn't need to make this repair, not strictly; the TARDIS ran well enough without it. But it would make reactions just a bit smoother, just a bit swifter - and besides, he felt he owed her some tender caring to anyway.

It certainly wasn't because he needed something to distract him while he waited.

He wasn't impatient, he decided as he pulled a thin silver rod from the ancient box; he'd given her as much time as she needed and he'd meant it. He just...well, he never was good at standing still, really, especially when there were nagging thoughts to run from.

So he worked, and was content, and sometimes he smiled. He already knew what their first real trip should be - he'd promised already, after all.

Comments

[thisway-comes.livejournal.com]

"I was very young," she replied, the matter-of-fact tone of her voice conveying that she meant to relate facts, not offer excuses or explanations.

"I did it partly out of wanting an escape. The marriage was miserable. I wasn't a wife; I was an enemy brought under control through manipulation.

I did it partly out of fear. I knew he was tired of me. I feared he'd do the same to me if I didn't act first, to escape our bond, to seek a replacement.

But mostly... I did it out of anger."

She sighed, and forced herself to stand up straighter, head held high. "He humiliated me. Repeatedly. Publicly. He belittled my interests, my talents, my work. He made no secret of having other women. He wore the fact that he had tamed a mighty Time Lord as a vulgar display of power."

Her gaze was unwavering.

"His was the first life I took. It would not be the last. I fear it set me down a very wrong path. That was near to seven centuries ago, and a lot has happened and changed in that time. But I cannot expect you to merely accept my word for it."

She tossed her head slightly, and tucked her hair behind one ear. "I can only humbly request your indulgence in taking me back to where we met, so I might retrieve my TARDIS. But should you be unwilling to do so, well..."

She smiled a small, sharply sad smile. "... at least I'm home again."

[thecricketer.livejournal.com]

His gaze never wavered as she spoke. A number of emotions warred within it, and he made no attempt to disguise them; they ranged from understanding to revulsion, never holding one for long, straying back and forth.

The rest of him was utterly still, and remained so for a long moment after she finished, as he studied her.

Then, quite suddenly, he relaxed, because the woman he was looking at was still the one he knew, and he cared too much, and nothing was futile this time.

He remembered one of the first rules he'd ever made, and why he made it.

So he stepped forward, and took her hand.

"I should have told you," he said softly, "that when someone steps aboard my TARDIS, it's the present, not the past, that matters."

[thisway-comes.livejournal.com]

Her gaze had fallen at the sight of revulsion in his eyes; she turned her face slightly to look past him, focusing on the opposite wall as she waited to hear if she'd regain her ship or be left here on the planet where she'd committed her first grave transgression.

Fitting, that.

So she wasn't paying attention, and she nearly jumped when his hand found hers. She stared down at it, then her gaze snapped up to meet his, her eyes wide with bewilderment. His voice was soft, gentle, and it took several moments for the words to sink in.

"I don't... but... Doctor... I don't understand..."

[thecricketer.livejournal.com]

They never did. He couldn't help the faint, distant smile as he took her other hand as well, squeezing gently. He'd expected this to be awkward, but now...now it was almost simple. Almost easy.

"Do you expect to commit homicide any time soon?" He raised his eyebrows, and before she could answer, went on.

"It doesn't matter to me who you were, Ushas, it matters who you are."

[thisway-comes.livejournal.com]

She stared at him, completely at a loss. She expected a fight. She expected to be turned away, shunned, left behind.

The last thing she expected was this. Compassion. Acceptance.

She felt a bit overwhelmed, and she fought to hide it, glancing away. For once, she failed rather miserably at it, biting her lip, drawing in a breath, and clutching his hands.

[thecricketer.livejournal.com]

The Doctor glanced down automatically - it was always easier to look away, to keep a distance - but a moment later he put a stop to it, because it wasn't the time for that anymore.

"Ushas," he said softly.

[thisway-comes.livejournal.com]

She breathed in a bit sharply at the sound of her name, her gaze rising slowly, almost warily, until her eyes met his again.

"...yes?"

She had to fight to keep her chin up, to keep from turning away. There was something nearly uncomfortable in this, in not immediately stepping back and throwing up a wall as she always had.

[thecricketer.livejournal.com]

He swallowed, and it was an effort to keep going, to keep his eyes on hers, knowing his revealed so much, too much.

"I don't abandon my friends," he said quietly. Then, softer still, "It's enough to regret. To stop."

[thisway-comes.livejournal.com]

"I do," she breathed, forcing herself to stand still, just as afraid now to look away as she was to hold his gaze. "I don't know why it is you find me so worthy of your understanding, I..."

She faltered for just a moment, swallowing past a lump in her throat. "I'm grateful for it."

[thecricketer.livejournal.com]

"There's no need. As I said, you're my friend, and..."

He lowered his head, slightly, though he still met her eyes, and in his own, for the first time since he closed the distance between them, there was hesitance. Uncertainty.

"We've all done things we aren't proud of," he said softly.

[thisway-comes.livejournal.com]

Her chin raised, and she drew in a breath, words immediately coming to her lips. She wanted to know what he'd done, and why.

But a moment's reflection stilled those urges, and instead she squeezed both his hands, shaking her head slightly, her eyes concerned as they noted the uncertainty in his.

"And we can all forgive, yes?"

Her thumbs drew small circles on the backs of his hands.

"If you can remain my friend despite the things I've done... I can do the same for you, Doctor."

[thecricketer.livejournal.com]

The Doctor swallowed, a soft, grateful smile turned the corners of his lips - but it faded a moment after, and he shook his head.

"You've told me of one murder you've committed, when you didn't need to." His voice was barely audible.

"It's only fair that I do the same."

[thisway-comes.livejournal.com]

She studied his face for a few silent moments, her brow creasing. Then she sighed, and nodded, giving his hands another squeeze.

"If you find it necessary, Doctor... then yes. By all means."

One side of her mouth twitched briefly, as if trying for a resigned smile. "I promise you," she went on, her voice as quiet as his had been, "that I'll listen. And not judge."

Her thumbs resumed their circular paths on the backs of his hands, their pads rubbing lightly over skin and bone as she met his gaze receptively.

[thecricketer.livejournal.com]

A slight nod, and then his brow furrowed. It was clear that he was considering - he didn't like that he needed to. He didn't like that there were deaths to choose from.

He knew, of course, what he would choose. He knew the hardest, the coldest, the clearest case.

His voice was even, almost matter of fact. His hands tightened in hers.

"I burned Koschei to death."

[thisway-comes.livejournal.com]

Her breath caught in her throat and her eyes widened in surprise.

Of all the things he could have said, she had to admit, that was about the last thing she would have expected to hear. The third part of their little knot at the Academy, dying such a violent death... at the Doctor's hands?

Clearly there had to be a reason.

"Tell me what happened," she implored softly, holding his hands firmly in hers, refusing to look away.

[thecricketer.livejournal.com]

It was difficult. So very, very difficult to hold her gaze and say what he needed to say. His eyes were wide, and distant, full of things he wanted to shove away but didn't, just this once

His voice remained calm.

"He'd made a mistake. Experiment gone wrong. He went to a planet - Sarn - because of the Numismaton gases in the volcanoes. It would restore him, but the resulting bursts would destroy the planet." He paused, gaze flitting away and returning again.

"I couldn't save Sarn. Turlough found a way to save the colony there. Meanwhile I..." Another pause. He didn't look away this time, but it was clear he wasn't seeing her any longer. His tone was flat.

"I added calorific gas to the surge. He didn't realise, at first, and then he started screaming. He begged me to help, and I stood and watched until there was nothing left."

Near the end it broke, just a little.

[thisway-comes.livejournal.com]

Her eyes were wide too, staring, but they saw. They saw everything. His struggle to speak. How difficult this was for him to share. How difficult life had been since the events he was describing.

How very much weight he'd carried, for so long.

Her hands closed around his as he spoke, firmly, as if trying to anchor him. When his voice broke she frowned, and then let go of his hands, her hands going to his shoulders instinctively.

"I... don't know what I could possibly say," she said in a very soft voice, "except to repeat your sentiments. You're my friend. I won't abandon you."

[thecricketer.livejournal.com]

His gaze had fallen, but his head jerked up at the touch, as if it awakened him. It was surprise, now, widening his eyes, baring everything in them, and he knew he must look very young.

Usually he would draw everything back, because no one else was supposed to see (are you okay? yes, of course, I'm all right). Certainly not his companions, but this was different, and though his eyes closed his voice shook when he spoke.

"So was he, once..." Open, again, and he pulled her into an impulsive embrace.

"Thank you," he said softly.

[thisway-comes.livejournal.com]

She drew in a slightly startled breath, and then her arms slid up, circling his neck loosely. "I think that's all the more reason for us not to abandon one another," she whispered earnestly. "I don't..."

She studied his face, her eyes different to their usual cast, filled with concern and perhaps even a hint of longing.

"...I don't want to lose you, either," she said, her hand going to his cheek, fingertips lightly brushing his cheekbone.

[thecricketer.livejournal.com]

"Yes..."

The touch startled him, and it must have showed, but he didn't pull away; if anything he leaned into it, just slightly.

It was so very strange, and painful, and honest, and he wasn't entirely sure how to deal with it.

"I'm so very tired of losing people," he said softly.

[thisway-comes.livejournal.com]

She nodded, pressing more of her hand against his cheek, her palm cradling it gently. "I know," she breathed. "I know. We'll not lose each other. You won't lose me, not if I have a say in it."

There was so much she didn't understand. How they'd each gotten to this point in their lives. How they'd both changed so much, drifted apart. How it was their paths had crossed once more. Why they'd been drawn together. Why it was he refused to turn away from her, despite everything.

Why it was so important to her to stay, to try to offer him comfort and understanding.

Her thumb stroked his face again, this time near his eye, and she sighed softly.

"I don't want to see you lose any more."

[thecricketer.livejournal.com]

"I'd rather you didn't, either," he whispered, and the corners of his lips turned up, just slightly. It was tempting to let the mask slip into place again, but he settled for the small, genuine smile instead.

His arms tightened around her as he spoke again.

"I suppose we'll have to look out for each other, then." The last of the Time Lords.

The smile stumbled, but never fell from his features.

[thisway-comes.livejournal.com]

She seemed to almost melt a bit at his smile, the tension leaving her body, a little sigh of relief escaping her lips. Her thumb trailed to one of the turned-up corners, running along its curve gently before coming to rest on his jaw.

This was a most strange and singular moment, and she couldn't remember its like. But somehow, in this moment, it seemed far easier to not pull that cloak of remoteness and disdain back around herself. It seemed better to let him hold her a bit closer, to lean into him and let her arm slide further around his neck.

And it seemed more fitting to reply, softly, "I'd like that," as she returned his smile, a bit wavering, but as honest as his own.

[thecricketer.livejournal.com]

His gaze traced her touch with something like awe; he couldn't recall anyone touching him like that, not for some time, and instead of disconcerting him it felt...soothing.

He allowed his embrace to tighten, to pull her as close as he could.

"I think we can manage," he said, and somehow, he believed it.

[thisway-comes.livejournal.com]

Somehow before she'd even fully caught on what was happening, she found herself pulled to him, nestled against him, his arms tight around her.

She wasn't sure which surprised her more: the fact that she was there... or the fact that she had no wish to fight it at all. She didn't want to run, didn't want to push him away, didn't want to retreat behind her usual stance of cool gentility masking barely-restrained disdain.

It rather felt, she noted as her arms slid tighter around his neck, the fingertips of one hand losing themselves in the hair at the nape of his neck, as if she'd just found something she hadn't even realised she'd been searching for.

"We can manage," she repeated, letting her head rest on his shoulder, closing her eyes, and holding on as tight as she dared.