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The Doctor ([info]not_your_tardis) wrote in [info]colligo_threads,
@ 2012-06-16 20:28:00

Previous Entry  Add to memories!  Tell a Friend!  Next Entry
Entry tags:jack harkness, jonathan crane, rose tyler, the doctor (10)

Who: The Doctor and Open
What: Having given his temper several days to decide, The Doctor visits a lake, sees Jack, and ends up getting in a fight with a very strange thing and....RUNNING!
Where: The Lake, and surrounding grounds, possibly spilling out into the city.
When: Saturday, June 16th, late evening
Rating: Likely PG - now updated to R, for language.
Notes: Random Scenes make me happy!




It had been one of his worst days ever, and since, he'd not run, but walked. He'd walked, and walked, being careful to stay away from any would be passerby, from anyone who might have spoke to him, from anyone who might have talked to him at all. The Doctor knew, understood, what his temper could do. He knew, better than anyone could have imagined, because he'd been there. He'd been the one to think it, to see it unfold in front of him, to make it happen. He'd been the catalyst for the greatest undoing, the greatest legends, across time and space - and he knew better than to risk subjecting anyone else to that.

His message had been heard, of that he was certain, but The Doctor gave no reply as he wandered the streets of this new city with a downcast gaze and tattered suit. He now understood just what was in front of him. Rose was here, Martha was here, even River Song was here. There was, of course, The Master as well, and several other voices he did not recognize. Everyone though, save three, and the voice of a child, were all reminders of how he'd failed and he wasn't entirely convinced the others weren't part of some strange time stream of his either, given how non-nonchalantly they'd responded.

At least now he knew that Molly had been telling the truth, and that meant there were others out there, another Doctor, at the very least - and that was never a good thing. The Doctor had struggled to find his bearings, wandering the city, trying to think. Did he trust The Master, was Wilfred really going to be fine? How could he even have known who he was talking about unless..

The Doctor didn't even finish the thought. There was no need. If it was The Master, somehow making his way back from the other side of the Time Lock, this place wouldn't look like this at all. There would be no park, no lake, no buildings, no city, no people. The Time Lords would have erased it all, and it simply never would have been. There was at least a small comfort in that, as he approached the edge of the lake, dropping down to his haunches to run his fingers through the blades of grass. He sighed, softly, whispering to himself the one question he always seemed to be asking himself.

"What do I do now?"

His dark eyes drifted skyward, as if the stars themselves might have an answer or, at the very least, a TARDIS.

That would have been nice.



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[info]not_your_tardis
2012-06-19 08:16 am UTC (link)
The Doctor just stared at him. He wanted to feel compassion, pity, remorse, shame, compassion, empathy, anything. He wanted to feel something for this man, something more than anger, something more than a desire to simply turn his back and walk away. He wanted to feel those things but, without him giving The Doctor a damn good reason, he just, well, didn't.

If the man wouldn't ask for help, The Doctor had nothing to say. He looked to Jack, and back to the man.

"We can't leave him here. You're a member of Torchwood - what have you got?"

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[info]timeaftertime
2012-06-19 08:24 am UTC (link)
"I don't exactly have any resources here, Doctor, except what I had on me when I arrived. The cuffs are already on him, I've got some retcon, but that's a really bad idea to give to someone with... issues. Really clearly serious issues. And I'm not a therapist at all. If this was Cardiff, and this was Rift-related? I'd trust the people who're qualified and have some resources. I'd send him out to Flat Holm. I started a facility there for people who're incurably insane after going through the Rift. The staff there would be the ones to determine if he could be helped-- and if he can't be fixed, at least try to get him comfortable." He patted over his pockets. "I might have a sedative that's safe for humans."

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[info]not_your_tardis
2012-06-19 08:35 am UTC (link)
The Doctor stared, as if trying to think. He had no TARDIS, and hardly any of his usual tools at his disposal. The Doctor shook his head. Nothing they had to work with would do, not for someone, something, like this at all. He started, literally, pacing, as he often did when he was trying to think. "No medicines, no contacts, no people.." His voice trailed and he groaned in dismay. He'd never really considered just how dependent he was on the TARDIS before that moment.

The Doctor looked back at the man, and at Jack, before he dropped down on his haunches in front of Jonathan. "Listen to me. We can help you. We will help you.." If only because they had no other choice. "..but we need to know what's wrong. I've got a screwdriver, but no TARDIS, I'm very, very, limited right now. So, you need to tell us if we're going to help you at all - because, right now, all we have is an antidote, and that's not enough."

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[info]timeaftertime
2012-06-19 08:42 am UTC (link)
"Doctor..." He put a hand on the Doctor's shoulder, directing his speech to him still. "He's under the influence of something seriously strong. Strong enough to transform him. Look at his eyes, the things he's saying... If this was a party, I'd say he's having an extremely bad trip. I don't know how much of what he says can be taken as fact and not the product of the toxin. Maybe not the best time for questioning? He might not even know what the truth is right now. Maybe we should concentrate first on getting his lungs clear, getting some painkillers in him, getting that antidote made... When he isn't hurting and he's hopefully lucid, then you can do your probing."

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[info]andintheendfear
2012-06-19 07:37 pm UTC (link)
His mind was going in too many different directions to focus.

He needed the antidote, he needed to stop the transformations and control the beast inside him. He would explain everything...well, mostly everything after.

If there was an after.

"Two years ago, I was an unwilling participant in a genetic experiment," Okay, apparently he was going to explain now, without his consent.

"I'm not sure what they did to me, but it created that...thing. It comes out under stress or when I'm feeling threatened."

Suddenly appearing in a new place, not eating or sleeping, having his brain rattled by the Doctor followed by Jack's punch...all added up to his body reacting before his brain could.

"The Fear Toxin is a hallucinogenic nerve toxin, it produces hallucinations of someone's worst fears. Yes, I created it, it was a trial drug for anxiety therapy. A patient who sees their worst fears can be better treated by knowledge of those fears then can one who only has the symptoms treated," he said, recalling long ago the hypothesis used to secure funding from Harvard.

"The toxin never went beyond the trial stages, however it was mixed in with my genetic mutation, creating that gassy breath you saw when the beast chased you," he said.

Finally, he looked up at them, panting from the mad rush of words. "Please, Doctor," he said, begging, his pride breaking completely, something he was unused to.

But he was just that desperate.

"I don't do this intentionally, I don't want to hurt people...the antidote stops the beast for one week, until I can relax or get to a safe location. I didn't ask to become this, but I can manage it."

He wondered if it would help if he appolagized for punching the man...

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[info]not_your_tardis
2012-06-20 12:09 am UTC (link)
The Doctor listened with an observant, albeit mildly detached, skepticism.

Jack had a point. It was entirely possible that this man could barely grasp the faint concepts of reality, never mind properly embellish the concepts of what he was trying to describe. Then, of course, the man had simply launched into it, right then and there and, for the second time in a single hour, The Doctor found himself feeling rather apprehensive about what the man was telling him.

He was willing to believe that the man had no control over what had been done to him because, really, who would do that to themselves? Then of course, there was a small concern of stopping him, again. Why would he be worried about being stopped unless that was something he wanted? It didn't really make sense. He was half tempted to simply chalk it up to the drug talking, but the man seemed far too lucid for that - and The Doctor never, ever, believed in ignoring a coincidence.

"Jack.." His voice trailed off as his eyes refused to leave Jonathan's own. "Could you handle giving him the antidote, once a week?" At the moment, The Doctor saw this as the only, rational, course left to them.

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[info]timeaftertime
2012-06-20 02:21 am UTC (link)
It wasn't even much compassion that motivated Jack to suggest holding off on questioning-- it was mostly just experience with what kind of information people would give when they were that messed up on any kind of substance; you just couldn't trust it to reflect any truth or reality. He really wasn't expecting a story volunteered after he'd suggested the Doctor not push any more.

"What, me? Doctor..." It's not that he couldn't, but medicine wasn't exactly his thing. "I'm assuming an injection? Usually when I'm giving someone a shot, they're unconscious or in so much pain the jab doesn't really register." Then again, if it wasn't him, it'd mean the Doctor would have to make things good with Martha, or Jack would have to bring in Owen on it, and that meant exposing the situation to one of Crane's colleagues. Jack let out a frustrated sigh.

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[info]andintheendfear
2012-06-20 04:04 am UTC (link)
Jonathan glared up at the Doctor. "You know, considering I created the antidote, and am far more educated and qualified then him, I can treat myself, thank-you. I simply need a lab."

It wasn't even that he protested having to take the antidote every week, he hadn't even though about putting a restriction on Scarebeast, too used to just...not wanting to deal with it.

He didn't appreciated being treated like a child who had no idea what he was doing....or mentally unbalanced.

Okay so officially, at least according to the textbooks, he was but they didn't know that...yet.

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