theoldgirl: (I am part of history)
theoldgirl ([personal profile] theoldgirl) wrote in [community profile] applesaucedream2014-03-05 06:35 pm

built with a heart broken from the start [open to multiple]

The TARDIS is feeling her insides burst. Something has grabbed hold of her, pulling at her with a force as violent and unpredictable as a torrent, and for some reason that she can't quite remember all her shields are offline. She is vulnerable and she is being gutted. Corridors are on fire, rooms are filling with toxic fumes, fuel is running out and choking and burning her like blood-filled lungs. As she writhes in agony, the flow of time and her dimensions twist with her, and suddenly there are creatures in her that don't belong, pained, furious things, but she has no thought to waste on them. They roam her halls unchecked, skulking in the dark and the debris and the unsteady flashes of emergency lighting, taking their clue from the destruction they were born into.

Her only thought now is to keep the Doctor safe. So she struggles to control her panic and the chaos, to hold herself together, to hold onto... something, yes, there's something she mustn't let go of, but her memory is failing her again and everything hurts. The Doctor is back now, she pushed him away but he came back to her, of course he wouldn't let her die alone. He brought someone with him and she hates them immediately, smells the greed in their minds, like scavengers eager to tear apart their prey while she's still alive. She wants them out, but the Doctor isn't listening to her and maybe that's why she pushed him away, because he can't bear to listen to her cries and she didn't want him to hear. He's talking about the girl instead, another thing she can't quite remember, though hardly surprising; there's always a girl. A hot flash of bitterness is cut short by a hotter explosion as the last fuel cell tears up her interior, and her tenuous control wavers.

She knows she's clinging to something so important, but it feels like pressing down on glass splinters, piercing and ripping her hold. She's screaming, and her  screams turn into the reverberating voice of a heavy grim bell, tolling doom throughout her structures and into the void.
has_a_horn: (piano)

[personal profile] has_a_horn 2014-04-19 08:20 am (UTC)(link)
"I'm not a weapon." He shouts back, tense and frustrated and scared. He can feel her mind crumbling under the strain of holding on to her universe. The landscape, the things, even the smell of Gallifrey burning begins to fade away. He grips her tighter. For one horrible moment, he thinks that she might send him away along with the memory, but she doesn't have the strength.

"I'm trying to help." He stands there, lost. Around them, the world falls silent and the moment seems to stretch out endlessly. He takes a deep breath and blinks away tears. She's not listening.

"I'm sorry. This isn't gonna be fun." He pulls her to his chest to keep her from shaking and pushes his way into her mind. The point of contact between her and the rift is easy to see now. Around it, damage is spreading in all directions, poisoning her. There's nothing he can do now to try to repair the damage. It's spreading too fast and too violently.

With a muttered apology on his lips, he grabs hold of the connection and does his best to sever it.
Edited 2014-04-19 08:25 (UTC)
has_a_horn: (puppydog | sincere)

[personal profile] has_a_horn 2014-04-19 09:55 am (UTC)(link)
He feels a surge of hope when she calls him by name. This isn't what she wants, but it's the only thing that will bring her back to herself and keep her alive.

"Not this way." he sighs, feeling his own longing for home magnified by hers. He cradles her head against his shoulder, fingers tangled in her hair. "You'd tear apart before you made it through." His lips flatten into a tight line and he forces himself to action instead of mourning. He wishes that he could have helped her home instead of this.

The point of the connection, once bright and menacing in her mind, is now more akin to a burning coal. He renews his efforts, pressing in to wrench the TARDIS from the rift. His body tenses with the effort of forcing her mind further away from it. In his bed at home, his limbs shake and his hands clench into fists.

The flame diminishes and sputters out. When the connection is completely lost, they are left with each other. He takes a shaky breath and doesn't move but to loosen his grip on her. He's not quite ready to let go of her yet.