|The Tenth Doctor (dominustemporis) wrote in wariscoming,|
@ 2011-09-26 21:22:00
|Entry tags:||donna noble, the doctor (10)|
Who: Ten/Open to people in the Complex
Where: The Complex!
I decided to be evil. As it turns out, the alternate universe's Time Lords are very good at formulating poisons.
Warnings: Dying Time Lord
Status: Works by itself or for someone to come along and find Ten and get him to the hospital wing or TARDIS. One or the other. Just toss an e-mail or IM my way if we need to work out the details. ♥
The Doctor had been hoping that, for once, if he ignored a problem, it might go away. Well, maybe not go away so much as be forgotten for a little while. He was good at running, after all, and the fact that he was going to die, again, and this time there would be no regeneration was the type of news that left him longing for escape. He wasn't even going to die for a good reason. His death was going to be a mistake, all because of a Time Lord gone mad and the people he'd taught to fear him.
There would be no dignity to his end. There would be no desperate last-minute save. The poison was too well-designed. Oh, he'd bought a little time with Koschei's help, but his body had been slowly shutting down for days now. It had been ages since he'd eaten something; he was unable to keep food down, and even water gave him trouble. He had told Jenny that he didn't want her to see him like this, and he stood by that, doing his best to avoid running into anyone in person to prevent that terribly awkward "I can save you if you just let me help" conversation. There was nothing more that could be done for him, and he'd really rather not have to repeat that fact over and over again.
Thankfully, the complex offered a place for him to enjoy a bit of privacy while awaiting the inevitable. He really should have gone back to the TARDIS, but the thought of the others there stopped him. His eleventh self had Sexy to worry about, and there was no need for him to have to watch himself die. Leela and Romana certainly didn't need to see it, either, or Sexy, and it would have been too easy for Jenny to find him there. Rose, Martha and Donna ... Well. He wasn't sure where they'd think to look first. Rose hardly knew him, he hadn't heard from Martha since he'd returned, and Donna ... Actually, Donna might just figure out what he was doing and track him down to have a good shout at him. As much as he'd missed that shouting, he didn't want to see any tears that might come later.
Still, the Doctor couldn't quite bring himself to be a total recluse in the last hours of his life. He stepped out of the room he'd commandeered, planning to take a brief walk to stretch his legs a bit while he still could. Lawrence, Kansas, wasn't the most scenic location he could have chosen for his death, but it did have one thing he adored: people. He planned to walk down the street a short distance to a spot where he could watch the residents going about their daily lives, hopefully unmolested by the unfortunate visitors to their city.
He never even made it to the front door of the complex. His left heart gave out after he'd taken only a few steps down the hall. Groaning in pain, he stumbled into a wall, one hand pressed against his chest. He could feel his other heart beating frantically as it was suddenly left to do all the work on its own. Tachycardia, he distantly noted, feeling foggy and slow as it became difficult to breathe. It was all right, he told himself. It was fine. He could manage with one heart. Just as long as it didn't ...
Well, didn't do that. Cardiac arrest. Bollocks.
The Doctor collapsed, barely conscious, one heart failing, the other already useless.