The Eleventh Doctor || Doctor Who (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
makeherblue) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
trans_92011-08-10 02:08 am
makeherblue) wrote in trans_92011-08-10 02:08 am
Hanger - TARDIS
[Takes place right after clone plot and arriving back on Stacy. After there]
“First sharks and now explosions!” The Doctor held up his ruined sonic screwdriver and turned it in the light. “I’ll have to proof against both, I suppose.”
He crossed the Hanger in long strides, expecting Otter Soother Daniel Jackson to keep up. Daniel had held himself rather well during the whole clone thing and what was more, he even saved his sonic for him! The Doctor found himself feeling rather fond of the human right this moment. Good man! Resourceful! But also being annoyingly close-mouthed about what he might have picked up from that encounter with the Other Doctor, which was surprising because he thought he knew humans and if there was anything he learned from all his time amongst them, it was they loved talking almost as much as he did! Questions in particular were their favorite, no matter how obvious or rhetorical or downright silly. Big big fan of the obvious questions. Basically they were a chatty species.
Part of the reason why he’d asked Daniel to come with him to the TARDIS.
If he was lucky, Daniel would tell him what he’d seen from that clone on his own, given enough time and company.
The Doctor was tucking the sonic back into his pocket when they came into sight of the TARDIS. He only paused for the briefest of beats as he took in the fact the old girl’s doors were wide open, positively gaping open! This wasn’t looking very looked out after and he wondered if maybe Jamie’s memory retention was failing thanks to him being an ex-dead man. Clearly the human needed a talking to! He approached cautiously, poking his head inside.
Everything in the console room looked in order, if you ignored the suspicious trail of foam cups leading away from the door and a few minute scratches on the glass which he knew for a fact hadn’t been there since he last checked. The Doctor’s lips pursed as he peered about, head weaving as he checked under the control console and then straightened. Where was Jamie? In fact, where were the rest of his friends?
“Better have a look around,” the Doctor lied, perhaps too cheerfully. “Long time away from home and I’m afraid River’s gone and organized things. I’m very specific on my organization system, I’ll have you know.”
He made a vague shooing motion at Daniel.
((So basically this is thread two, with the Doctor/Daniel/Rory jumping into a TARDIS taken over by the Master. Since the Master can switch up rooms (up to the players in the threads for what's wrong with the rooms) and trap people/shift people around, I guess assume timey-wimey things to allow different characters to stumble into each other? But yeah, I guess do subthreads for characters stumbling and we can subthread different people running into them.
I think we're looking at people in the TARDIS as: Victoria, Martha, The Master, River, Jamie, Doctor, Daniel, Rory, Amy, Eva. If I missed anyone, poke me!))
“First sharks and now explosions!” The Doctor held up his ruined sonic screwdriver and turned it in the light. “I’ll have to proof against both, I suppose.”
He crossed the Hanger in long strides, expecting Otter Soother Daniel Jackson to keep up. Daniel had held himself rather well during the whole clone thing and what was more, he even saved his sonic for him! The Doctor found himself feeling rather fond of the human right this moment. Good man! Resourceful! But also being annoyingly close-mouthed about what he might have picked up from that encounter with the Other Doctor, which was surprising because he thought he knew humans and if there was anything he learned from all his time amongst them, it was they loved talking almost as much as he did! Questions in particular were their favorite, no matter how obvious or rhetorical or downright silly. Big big fan of the obvious questions. Basically they were a chatty species.
Part of the reason why he’d asked Daniel to come with him to the TARDIS.
If he was lucky, Daniel would tell him what he’d seen from that clone on his own, given enough time and company.
The Doctor was tucking the sonic back into his pocket when they came into sight of the TARDIS. He only paused for the briefest of beats as he took in the fact the old girl’s doors were wide open, positively gaping open! This wasn’t looking very looked out after and he wondered if maybe Jamie’s memory retention was failing thanks to him being an ex-dead man. Clearly the human needed a talking to! He approached cautiously, poking his head inside.
Everything in the console room looked in order, if you ignored the suspicious trail of foam cups leading away from the door and a few minute scratches on the glass which he knew for a fact hadn’t been there since he last checked. The Doctor’s lips pursed as he peered about, head weaving as he checked under the control console and then straightened. Where was Jamie? In fact, where were the rest of his friends?
“Better have a look around,” the Doctor lied, perhaps too cheerfully. “Long time away from home and I’m afraid River’s gone and organized things. I’m very specific on my organization system, I’ll have you know.”
He made a vague shooing motion at Daniel.
((So basically this is thread two, with the Doctor/Daniel/Rory jumping into a TARDIS taken over by the Master. Since the Master can switch up rooms (up to the players in the threads for what's wrong with the rooms) and trap people/shift people around, I guess assume timey-wimey things to allow different characters to stumble into each other? But yeah, I guess do subthreads for characters stumbling and we can subthread different people running into them.
I think we're looking at people in the TARDIS as: Victoria, Martha, The Master, River, Jamie, Doctor, Daniel, Rory, Amy, Eva. If I missed anyone, poke me!))
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"Of course," the Doctor said. He fiddled, twiddled, and even poked at the twine. He finally glanced over at Daniel and found that, shockingly enough, the human didn't look at all fascinated by the twine. He even looked bored! Positively incredible, proof that the TARDIS had impossibly moved rooms and Daniel Jackson looked bored.
Ah, right. Humans and their different priorities. Still, he'd rather take a bored human over one adventuring into something deadly. Or at least they could both adventure in the same direction and then he could rescue Daniel if they ran into any sort of trouble. The Doctor scanned the section of twine where the colors changed cleanly and then cupped his sonic screwdriver in his hand, staring intently at it as he waited for Daniel to ask his question.
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The Doctor seemed so distracted that he didn't appear to have any idea what Daniel was going to ask. Maybe he could catch him off guard. Maybe he could at least get some answer before he tried to shoo him off again.
Daniel tried to do casual. Which was hard considering it felt like he'd been assaulted by images and sounds back on Galilee, and his head felt like it had wanted to explode back then. Now he couldn't top thinking about what he saw. "What happened back on Galilee? With the clone of you, I mean."
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Humans were a surprisingly sturdy lot, given Daniel was standing there perfectly fine and asking about it. It did leave the question of how much he did remember in the first place, the Doctor finally leaving the twine alone to swing around so he could face Daniel. Did he mention he was psychic to Daniel? It wasn't exactly something he generally brought up in a conversation because to him, it wasn't exactly exciting or even interestingly new, so he tended not to bother bringing it up unless there was a reason. He forgot that most humans found those sorts of abilities novel when Daniel Jackson came from.
The Doctor eyed Daniel over his sonic screwdriver.
Given how much his clone had decided to share, well. He was hoping the human hadn't picked up anything too much. There were still some things he'd like to keep close, no matter how much he liked Daniel and his Otter Soother-ness.
"Was that your first psychic encounter?" The Doctor asked, curious. He leaned forward to peer at Daniel, eyes searching his.
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"Yes, it was," Daniel answered. He leaned back a little when the Doctor got too close, suddenly aware that despite how human he might look, there was always something a little off about the man. Not wanting to appear rude, Daniel rushed on before the twine could get the man's attention again. "What do you mean psychic sneeze? Those were his memories, weren't they?
And if they were the clone's memories, that meant they had to be the Doctor's. Daniel was dying to know what any of them meant. The Galileans had boasted they could transfer memories from a source, and on the security check they'd gone through earlier, they'd had the perfect opportunity to get samples from them all.
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He had to say, it probably wasn’t the best first psychic encounter Daniel could have had, if he had a choice. He probably needed little psychic baby steps instead of whatever his clone had called that. He supposed telling Daniel that the clone had died and come back a ginger was probably too much to take in if he was still wrapping his head around the psychic thing in the first place. Still, he seemed to have handled it remarkably well for his first encounter, so the Doctor was willing to say maybe Daniel Jackson here might have something of a gift against psychic incursions or…well, at least better than Jamie’s, at any rate.
It wasn’t as if the past hadn’t gone two ways. The Doctor remembered his clone struggling to come to grips not only with their own memories and lives, but also what he’d seen peeking back into Daniel. Obviously it wasn’t everything. It was, however, enough to make the Doctor regard Daniel thoughtfully. Those little snakes. What he felt through his clone had been so very human and strong, one of the very worst little bits of humanity. All that hate.
Honestly, he didn’t think it fit Daniel at all. He much rather liked him as their resident Otter Soother.
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Daniel folded his arms for lack of anything better to do. Whatever the Doctor was doing, he wished he'd hurry up. This hallway was starting to get boring. There was an entire, impossible ship here and they were stuck waiting in a hall staring at twine. "I didn't know you were psychic, Doctor."
Did that mean he was reading him even now? Or had been the entire time? How did it really work? Daniel thrived on learning different ways to communicate, but this was one that looked like humanity wasn't ready to tap. He was in as much the dark about it as the next person over. Almost as in the dark: he did have that "psychic sneeze" from the Doctor's clone to add to his resume now.
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Unfortunately, everything Daniel may have picked up from his clone was all true, unless his duplicate had the foresight to fib even a little which was...unlikely, considering his/her behavior. Not much of a fibber, that one! It wasn't helped by the fact Daniel hadn't come out with what, exactly, he knew. Maybe it was too much for a human's mind to handle? It would explain the questions. Maybe he had only flashes. that feel of his first fish fingers and custard.
Or there was also Gallifrey burning under him and -- hm, right, not a particular memory he would wish on anyone.
Deciding that the door was stable and not likely to move on them just yet, the Doctor fiddled with it. It hissed open, blasting Daniel and him with a jet of warm, humid air, and the distinct smell of dirty wet socks. The Wardrobe hasn't fared very well, whoever had intruded their way this deep in. It smelled downright awful, as if someone had dunked the entire Wardrobe in swamp water and then didn't leave it to properly dry. A slow trail of muddy water seeped toward them across the floor, the Doctor lifting his foot gingerly, like a cat. His boot came up soggy.
"Mind your footing!"
The Doctor pushed on into the Wardrobe, shining his sonic around for light. The lights flickered on and off now, his sonic buzzing green against bits and pieces of clothing. Most of it was a lost cause, but some of it was miraculously still dry.
no subject
Kind of.
"Must be the filthy Ancient Egyptian," Daniel muttered under his breath. He didn't think he was psychic, and definitely not with a preference to going brain to brain with otters.
Just a few bad days? How was wiping out the Racnoss and her children, or the destruction of that planet just a bad day? Daniel couldn't think of any universe or situation where that could qualify as just an inconvenience. He knew the Doctor was trying to play it off as less worse than it actually was, for whatever reason, but it felt disrespectful, like he was diminishing those events. If those memories were his, it went to follow that the sense of loss, of loneliness, was the Doctor's too. He was lying.
Finally, something else happened outside of the twine. Daniel was right behind the Doctor when the door opened, perfectly timed to to get a faceful of humid, heavy feeling air and worse, the smell of a locker room. His nose crinkled. It smelled ripe, even for the SGC's worst locker room. Daniel had to take a moment to gather himself. It's a swamp planet, he told himself. Just another swamp planet. You'll get used to it. Give it time.
More time than that. Daniel waited a little longer, ignored what the Doctor said, and found that this time the smell was slightly less offensive. Finally as ready as he could get, Daniel stepped in... right into something that smelled like an armpit and old cat and strangely enough, fabric softener. His leg sunk into some sort of sludge that went up to mid-calf.
"Oh God," Daniel looked down. His face crumpled as he pulled his foot out of a bog made of socks, weeds (he hoped those were weeds and not remnants of wigs and soggy tissues) and the dirtiest water he'd ever seen. It wasn't a distinction Daniel made lightly. He'd been on a lot of planets for a human.
The first question to come to mind was, 'Where are we'? Or 'What just happened?' 'Why do you have a swamp in your closet?'' Why do you need so many clothes?' What Daniel actually said was, "So these are your memories then. Why did you destroy the red planet?"
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"What?" The Doctor's tone was sharper than he intended, his toe stinging as he turned, that light reflecting off the surface of the bog water rising up to his knees now. "Red planet?"
The look he gave Daniel for the barest of nanoseconds was haunted. He recovered quickly, making a show of nursing his toe and muttering something about needing new boots and socks and quite possibly a few other things as he waded in deeper and wished that Daniel didn't have to be so-so stubborn!. The water, thankfully, seemed to stop at around mid-thigh, a soupy kind of sludge that Daniel Jackson was completely right about smelling like bogs and month old laundry. The Doctor paused at what he assumed was a cupboard lying face down in the soup, testing it with his foot. Didn't squish down too much and it was their next best thing to dry land.
"Well," the Doctor said, after clambering aboard, his trousers and boots a lost cause. He turned to help Daniel up. "I'm sure you know how these things go. Complicated, messy, loads of reasons. Something had to be done. Now's hardly the time for life stories, Daniel Jackson."
He didn't look very inclined to go into too many more details. It might've happened several lifetimes ago, but he thought he'd need a few more before he could fully come to terms with Gallifrey. That crushing loneliness his clone had broadcasted to anyone and everyone? Still there, in a way, and he preferred to get through his days by not obsessing about what he could, should (and didn't) do. The Doctor shifted his weight on the cupboard squishing in the bog, turning on the spot and shading his eyes, trying to look for any other doors.
Something splashed in the distance, a far away plop.
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"Yeah, I guess so," Daniel said reluctantly. No, not really. There was a difference between having to pick up a gun and defend yourself and blowing up an entire planet. A big, big, big difference. He got the feeling that this was the most he was going to get out of the Doctor on the subject. At least it was more than he started with.
Taking the Doctor's hand, Daniel scrambled up onto the cupboard, profoundly grateful that the water level hadn't risen to the point that it made the thing float. It might be a losing battle, but Daniel was determined not to take a dunk in the murky water if he could help it. Even if his legs were soaked. It was probably going to smell for days.
Daniel caught the faint plop a second after the Doctor. His head snapped over to look. Maybe something had fallen off a hanger. Or maybe the TARDIS decided it might as well conjure up alligators to go with the bog. The archaeologist pulled his legs all the way onto the dresser. "Uh, what was that?"
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"I don't think it's a crocodile..." The Doctor listened again. "Probably not. Not that you'd hear a crocodile. They're quite...sneaky."
Another splash, this time coming closer. The Doctor decided that Daniel had the right idea keeping his arms and legs away from the edge of the cupboard. The lighting flickered again overhead as the Wardrobe groaned around them, wafting that horrid stench of wrong all over because it, like the rest of the TARDIS, knew this wasn't right at all. The splashing suddenly sounded off even closer, frantic, as if what was out there saw them and was coming right at the two. The Doctor tensed, prepared to advise Daniel to Abandon Ship (or Abandon Cupboard) and that as when --
That otter surfaced right at Daniel's feet. It twitched those whiskers at him, beady black eyes glittering in the light.
"Ah!" The Doctor suddenly broke out into a relieved grin. "Your otter friend! I was wondering where he got to! Loads better than a crocodile!"
As if to prove his point, the otter slithered out of the water with a deft flick of his otter tail and curled around Daniel's feet.
no subject
He had been so prepared to jump back for the door that Daniel almost jerked to his feet on reflex alone when something landed on the cupboard. He almost pitched off the cupboard anyway. It wasn't an alligator. It wasn't a crocodile or a shark or a raging hippo or whatever could come out of the Doctor's overgrown wardrobe. It was the same otter from before. How it got into the TARDIS and how it tracked him down was anyone's guess.
Daniel looked down at the otter. He looked back at the Doctor, who had this look on his face like he was a proud grandparent. He looked back the otter which was curled around his feet like it owned him. It also looked like a soggy mess. Daniel, slowly, so it wouldn't startle, reached over and began picking various weeds, threads, and lace off it. Then he began gently scratching the moss and soggy tissues off it. The otter seemed to like it, because it made a purring grunt and leaned into his hand.
"I think he likes me..." Daniel said, gently scratching behind the ears. It huddled closer to him. Oh boy. It seemed to have chosen him. Was it going to follow him around like a lost duck? The archaeologist looked up at the Doctor. "Doctor, I don't know how to take care of a wild otter."