sixwordstories | (no subject)

At this, he drags his hands away from his head, clenching them into fists against his legs in an attempt not to start tapping or drumming the beat out onto whatever was nearest.

"No. No, no, no, no. They're mine." His to deal with. His to endure. They'd always been his, just his, and he was, more than anything else, stubborn.

He might, probably might, accept help. But it'd take a lot more than that.

"Koschei..." he sighed. "You've got to let me help you at some point."

The Doctor's patience has been worn rather thin by his own condition, so he decided to take the initiative. He pressed his hands on either side of his face and gently touched their foreheads together.

Welcome, Doctor, to a whirlwind of confused emotions, drums, and oh yeah, more drums!

He was having to think around them, deafened by them, and sometimes through them. There were parts of him that wanted to accept the help his old friend was offering, but others that wanted nothing more than to be left alone, or to silence them in another way. His mind was not a pretty place at all, with the dark places growing and the rest being shadowed by the drums, an all-encompassing beat of war, the maddening, neverending sound that had been with him and driven him and had almost driven him past insane.

He winced a bit at the loudness but fought valiantly on. Friends helped each other, and he was determined to be a good friend to Koschei after their long years of separation.

Remember when we were children, Koschei? Some days you'd talk me out of going to school and instead we'd climb up the mountains and play in the red fields there.

It was certainly the Doctor's fondest memory. Perhaps it could help Koschei.

He was torn, and the urge was there to shove the outside presence from his mind, but the Doctor's - Theta's - words cut off the idea before it could come to anything more.

Distraction.

You mean when we were young and innocent and naive, and you didn't know about the drums because I thought you'd think me insane? Even before I was. They were quiet, then. Soft and hard at the same time, but still there, all the time, never leaving me, but oh, so. Much. Quieter!

Don't think about that. Though with their connection this strong, the Doctor knew that was nearly impossible for Koschei. Think about other things. Remember how peaceful it was then on Gallifrey. Just us two lying in the fields, looking up at the orange sky beneath the silver trees...

An image from his memories filtered into Koschei's mind. The two were young then, just children, both lying on their backs and watching the sky. They used to hold hands all the time then. The Doctor missed that.

I can't bloody help thinking about it, and I have to think around it or else I'd be thinking through it, and you wouldn't want that. They're war drums, Theta - they are and they always have been.

The 'Theta' came through from the old, old memories, and something else slipped out, as well.

...I miss it. The grass, the sky, the trees, the-

It was beautiful then, wasn't it? Everything was so new to us, so perfect. His hand wrapped around Koschei's. I miss it too.

There's a patch of red grass in Central Park, and the trees were painted silver. I've never been there. It's only a fake. A garden. Not the real thing. Maybe there should be a better one, though...

He registered the touch, the physical memory that came with it. The warmth of the two suns, the grass on their backs, adrenaline still rushing through their veins, the drums drowned out by his own heartsbeat, back when they'd been quiet enough for that to be possible.

We could go there, if you wanted. It would make a nice trip, wouldn't it?

He smiled, sensing that Koschei was beginning to calm down finally.

Perhaps a backwards sign that he actually was beginning to calm down, his mental voice held some teasing derision. I'm not that desperate.

Or... perhaps he was. But he wouldn't lower himself to anything other than the best. And if you wanted something done well, the best way was to do it (or oversee it) yourself. A number of ideas were beginning to form in his mind.

We're not going to break a Time Lock. His voice was stern, guessing what Koschei was thinking. Our home is gone, Koschei. We'll keep it alive in our memories.

I'm not that much of an idiot, either. That wasn't what I was thinking of.

He got up abruptly, and started pacing - the drums were still there, still louder than normal, but he had something to focus them on, now.

"Then we do what anyone else would do. Like you said before - begin again. Work with what we have got. I'm not asking for Gallifrey. Gallifrey doesn't have a future any more. What I'm after is..."

Somewhere to go that he could fool himself was home. That could be made to look authentic, that could fool the senses, and that could be shown to those entrusted with the Time Lord legacy so that they didn't live ignorant of what it had looked like. And Rassilon knew there were enough of those about in the many universes.

He watched Koschei, leaning back.

"You want to make another Gallifrey?" he said skeptically. "That's quite a task, even for us."

He paused in his pacing, but didn't stop moving. His hands started to tap and drum involutarily, but he used them to gesticulate the moment he realised this.

"Look around you. How many of us are around here, now? How many have TARDISes? It would be a simple enough task to find the equipment to terraform a planet or moon that was deserted, and adjust the workings and settings to achieve the results we wanted. It could work. Perfection would be nice, but I'm not expecting it. The details can work themselves out."

The Doctor nodded. "I suppose that's possible, but enlisting their help isn't going to be easy. I think we both know how stubborn our kind can be."

"It's Gallifrey. They might not all want to help, but it would be doing something instead of moping about half the time!"

"I don't know, Koschei," he said tiredly. "If you want to, I'll do this with you. I like the idea, really, I do."

(no subject)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Proper use of keywords ftw.

Amen!

;D Ohyes~

no subject

no subject

no subject