Fic: Oblivion (Doctor Who)
Jan. 8th, 2013 05:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
flowsoffireTitle: Oblivion
Author: flowsoffire
Fandom: Doctor Who
Pairing/characters: Donna Noble, mentions of Wilfred Mott, Sylvia Noble, Tenth Doctor
Genre: Drama/Angst
Rating: K+
Word count: c. 500
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Summary: Donna Noble is running after shadows, craving something she cannot name, barely making out the shape of who she is. Something is missing, carefully concealed, and she needs it. Post-Journey's End.
Author's note: Just a tiny Donna piece. Enjoy!
**********************************************************************
Sometimes, she wakes up at night, and feels like something huge is missing.
She can't tell what. It's weird, and it's wrong, because she's happy and she's going to get married. (Not like with Lance. That odd thing with Lance, being abandoned just like that, and she can't remember a reason, an explanation – can't even remember feeling pain. The one time she dares talk about it at all, her gramps gets all red in the face, with suspiciously shining eyes, stammers for a while, and eventually pulls out a silly, fancy book about great emotional shocks causing partial amnesia as a complex coping mechanism. She rolls her eyes, and never brings it up again.)
So she's happy, almost too happy – she cannot help but to watch out for the tricky bit, before it comes to strike her in the face. This is too good. Even her mother is being bizarrely nice, thoughtful at times – until she forgets and her moody, belittling side kicks in. It feels like the universe is trying to coddle her, to keep her mind busy so she can't ask questions. But that's dumb, because she wouldn't know what to ask anyway.
She hovers in libraries, in random streets watching people go by, even dares walk into a museum once. There is an exhibition about Pompei, and she finds it sad, but soon enough she's getting bored. Those things are dead things, long dead; it would take at least a good book to bring them back to life. The spark is missing, and she trudges off, wondering why she came at all. One more question added to the list; at least that's one she can put into words, for a change.
She daydreams a fairly incredible amount, which gets her in trouble at work. Frustration is mounting; some days she genuinely worries that she is going to wreck everything just for the hell of it, because it doesn't seem to fit somehow. She wonders if she isn't like one of those freaks who keep complaining about their lives, but cannot cope with happiness when it finally does come. She has always been stronger than that though, and more sensible, despite her temper. The sensible thing to do, she resolves, is to find a way to get rid of that negative energy, and just push ahead. She is surrounded by the people she loves; no bizarre fancy is worth cracking up on them all.
To let off her steam, she decides, on a whim, to go running in a club every day. Her mother laughs at her when she says it, of course, and it might sound ludicrous, really. But Donna turns out way faster than she remembers ever having been at school. In fact, as she pushes a bit harder on her legs, music in her ears and silence in her head, she feels calm again at last, as if she had reunited with some lost part of her.
She's not heading towards anything and nobody is after her, yet she goes faster still anyway, and it feels good, like freedom and adrenaline.
Author: flowsoffire
Fandom: Doctor Who
Pairing/characters: Donna Noble, mentions of Wilfred Mott, Sylvia Noble, Tenth Doctor
Genre: Drama/Angst
Rating: K+
Word count: c. 500
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
Summary: Donna Noble is running after shadows, craving something she cannot name, barely making out the shape of who she is. Something is missing, carefully concealed, and she needs it. Post-Journey's End.
Author's note: Just a tiny Donna piece. Enjoy!
**********************************************************************
Sometimes, she wakes up at night, and feels like something huge is missing.
She can't tell what. It's weird, and it's wrong, because she's happy and she's going to get married. (Not like with Lance. That odd thing with Lance, being abandoned just like that, and she can't remember a reason, an explanation – can't even remember feeling pain. The one time she dares talk about it at all, her gramps gets all red in the face, with suspiciously shining eyes, stammers for a while, and eventually pulls out a silly, fancy book about great emotional shocks causing partial amnesia as a complex coping mechanism. She rolls her eyes, and never brings it up again.)
So she's happy, almost too happy – she cannot help but to watch out for the tricky bit, before it comes to strike her in the face. This is too good. Even her mother is being bizarrely nice, thoughtful at times – until she forgets and her moody, belittling side kicks in. It feels like the universe is trying to coddle her, to keep her mind busy so she can't ask questions. But that's dumb, because she wouldn't know what to ask anyway.
She hovers in libraries, in random streets watching people go by, even dares walk into a museum once. There is an exhibition about Pompei, and she finds it sad, but soon enough she's getting bored. Those things are dead things, long dead; it would take at least a good book to bring them back to life. The spark is missing, and she trudges off, wondering why she came at all. One more question added to the list; at least that's one she can put into words, for a change.
She daydreams a fairly incredible amount, which gets her in trouble at work. Frustration is mounting; some days she genuinely worries that she is going to wreck everything just for the hell of it, because it doesn't seem to fit somehow. She wonders if she isn't like one of those freaks who keep complaining about their lives, but cannot cope with happiness when it finally does come. She has always been stronger than that though, and more sensible, despite her temper. The sensible thing to do, she resolves, is to find a way to get rid of that negative energy, and just push ahead. She is surrounded by the people she loves; no bizarre fancy is worth cracking up on them all.
To let off her steam, she decides, on a whim, to go running in a club every day. Her mother laughs at her when she says it, of course, and it might sound ludicrous, really. But Donna turns out way faster than she remembers ever having been at school. In fact, as she pushes a bit harder on her legs, music in her ears and silence in her head, she feels calm again at last, as if she had reunited with some lost part of her.
She's not heading towards anything and nobody is after her, yet she goes faster still anyway, and it feels good, like freedom and adrenaline.
no subject
Date: 2013-01-13 09:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-01-14 08:20 am (UTC)