"Doctor." The word was slightly choked, but he didn't resist the tug or the touch, trying his best to stand and let the Doctor help him away from the device. He tried to keep his head down, not letting the others see.
He had to be strong, didn't he? Conner was here, he had to be strong.
He took a deep breath, leaning on the Doctor and unsteadily make his way to the side of the room. "I...I was waiting...waiting for Amy. I kept waiting for you to come back, tell you I couldn't...I couldn't do it. It was too much. Too much time. So much time, Doctor. Too many wars. There were so many wars, Doctor. They were all pointless. I watched so many people die, Doctor. Little boys grow into old men and get buried by their own children...or worse, go off heroes and come back corpses. God, heroes. I hate heroes. They always die well, but always so young. Who ever thought that was something to aspire too?" The words were soft, husky and strained, the memories were fading but not fast enough for the imprints to vanish. Not fast enough for his brain to stop trying to process everything he'd remembered. "I couldn't sleep, you don't think about sleeping until you can't. Don't think about how much time you spend dreaming until the stars go out."
"She's there, on the ship. She's awake. She's ok. Right? Amy's awake. She's safe, with Molly. They're safe. Jamie will protect them, Jamie and River. I saw her, I didn't remember. She was Cleopatra. Or she was pretending to be. My commander was furious when he found out." The last was delivered in soft Latin, archaic in structure, an unconscious slip with as scrambled as his brain currently was.
Only there was something with River, something he needed to remember. Something she had said that didn't make sense. What had she said?
He shuddered, clinging to the Doctor. It was too much to take in, too much to process. "...Why aren't I still plastic, Doctor?"
Re: Subthread 1: Pre-fight Memory Download
He had to be strong, didn't he? Conner was here, he had to be strong.
He took a deep breath, leaning on the Doctor and unsteadily make his way to the side of the room. "I...I was waiting...waiting for Amy. I kept waiting for you to come back, tell you I couldn't...I couldn't do it. It was too much. Too much time. So much time, Doctor. Too many wars. There were so many wars, Doctor. They were all pointless. I watched so many people die, Doctor. Little boys grow into old men and get buried by their own children...or worse, go off heroes and come back corpses. God, heroes. I hate heroes. They always die well, but always so young. Who ever thought that was something to aspire too?" The words were soft, husky and strained, the memories were fading but not fast enough for the imprints to vanish. Not fast enough for his brain to stop trying to process everything he'd remembered. "I couldn't sleep, you don't think about sleeping until you can't. Don't think about how much time you spend dreaming until the stars go out."
"She's there, on the ship. She's awake. She's ok. Right? Amy's awake. She's safe, with Molly. They're safe. Jamie will protect them, Jamie and River. I saw her, I didn't remember. She was Cleopatra. Or she was pretending to be. My commander was furious when he found out." The last was delivered in soft Latin, archaic in structure, an unconscious slip with as scrambled as his brain currently was.
Only there was something with River, something he needed to remember. Something she had said that didn't make sense. What had she said?
He shuddered, clinging to the Doctor. It was too much to take in, too much to process. "...Why aren't I still plastic, Doctor?"