im_thedoctor (im_thedoctor) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2015-03-14 22:46:00 |
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Entry tags: | clara oswald, eleventh doctor |
Who: Troy and Clara
Where: Troy's home
When: Shortly after this , and this
What: The Doctor had a bad dream.
Status: Ongoing and Incomplete
Rating: Lowish.
Troy was up long before Clara got there, dressed in a pair of sleep pants, a white undershirt, and his robe worn over the entire thing. He felt bad, really, for waking Clara up this late. Glancing at the clock, the glowing green digital told him it was around 2:30 in the morning, and ticked to 2:31 in the time he was looking at it. Sighing, he'd already started the tea the moment he got to the kitchen; a likely scenario even if Clara wasn't on her way over. No television was on, there was nothing on this late anyway, and instead he just had some light music playing while he tried to calm himself from the sudden nightmares he was having.
The Doctor dreams had always been a bit on the uncomfortable side for him, he admitted that, and while he'd been writing a book on the experience it had gotten to the point where it was hard to put down coherently. They came rapidly, the dreams, and some more terrifying than the last, yet it was the most recent one that had him startled. Seeing Rose, watching so many companions die, over and over again, and the war. What was it? The Time War, the woman had called it. It was 400 years of destruction that was almost so preposterously large that it was almost funnier than sad, if it wasn't for the fact he was watching it square on.
Troy poured himself some tea when it began to whistle, and then plodded with slippers making quiet little clops along the linoleum, into the living room where it was replaced with carpet. Making his way for the comfortable chair of his, he simply took a seat and set the tea down to let it steeple, staring at the dark room before him, a couple lights on but not many. And his mind began to wander back into the vivid dreams; this was different now, the more he dreamed, the easier they came to him. He wasn't forgetting them as much, they were less foggy, and now they were easily recalled. He'd never admit it to Clara outloud, but he also found he was doing mathematics a lot faster, had watched a Neil deGrasse Tyson lecture, and had actually scoffed at something Tyson was wrong about. Something that the rest of the world figured Tyson was right about, and as far as Troy had known in the past, something he was right about.
But in his heart, he knew it was wrong, and he didn't understand how he knew that. Shaking his head, he finally lifted his tea to sip at it, and began to rub at his temple. Clara would worry, he knew that now, and regretted calling her because he knew she'd worry that he'd begin to get those burning feelings like John.