#After the hospital he drowned his despair/distress in any way he could & ended up with a baby boy | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

eltanin-malfoy · 5 years

Text

Get A Grip II

pairing : draco/fem-y/n

word count : 6.9k (longest thing i’ve ever written)

warning(s) : mentions of torture/trauma/ptsd/anxiety/depression/death/war/sicking up, major major angst, violence, fluff

requested : yes! (a few more times as well but didn’t bother answering them soz)

a/n : so this has turned out to be quite touchy and terribly sad :/ thankfully i kind of aimed for it to be that way. I’ve always felt like the darker side of the war and the tragedies associated with it weren’t ever explored enough. this is also sort of inspired by this angsty dramione au fic i’ve been reading. highly recommended! hopefully it isn’t too much? any feedback is much appreciated! requests are still open but will be posted in later months. (also madam pomfrey is an unsung hero in the series i love her sm) thanks again to my lovely beta @unpeustupide

Part I

Y/N had never been popular at Hogwarts. Well.. she wasn’t exactly unpopular either, she supposed most of the people in her year knew what her name was, but didn’t care enough about her for her to be lunch-table gossip.. She wasn’t exactly the kind of person to constantly draw attention to herself like some of the others in her year liked to do. It was usually one of three ways, either by just being plain rude to people they didn’t like much (which that Malfoy boy seemed to really enjoy), being extremely attractive or generally quite likeable (something she liked to think of Roger Davies) or just doing heroic things no one in their year should have been able to do at all (classic Potter).

She had a close knit circle of friends but didn’t stray much out of it. She kept up with all the latest gossip, tried to answer questions in class and tried to be pleasant with everyone (unless they were being the opposite). What she’d never been too fond of doing was stepping out of line. Breaking rules wasn’t something she enjoyed at all. Things she assumed must have made rebellious students feel some kind of high would just put her on edge and made her fear for her life. Being out of her common room after curfew was already past the limits for her, so when she heard whispers about Potter’s alternative DADA classes in her fifth year, she’d stayed out of all of that, knowing it would inevitably lead to trouble. I mean, come on, it was Potter and his rag-tag friends. That’s what they did. That wasn’t something she wanted to get her nose into, especially since Umbridge had been in charge. And when ‘Dumbledore’s Army’ was caught later in the year, she knew she’d been right. Even if she very well knew how bad of a teacher Umbridge was and how members of the group had ended up fighting against a bunch of Death Eaters at the end of the year (which of course, was also seriously life threatening), she knew she didn’t want to risk her picture perfect record over anything.

That was.. until their seventh year. The year with the Carrows and Snape as headmaster and the rise of You Know Who growing more and more imminent. That was when she finally began to realise why Potter and his mates always acted as heroic as they did. That was when that stupid, overwhelming sense of guilt began to make its way into her very being.

The Carrows practically reigning over the school drove the mood of the castle effectively down the drain. There was a constant sense of dread, it seemed. Even the pleasant evenings she’d spent with housemates in her common room suddenly began to feel distressing. Obeying the rules was now of paramount importance, with any such disobedience meaning actual physical torture.

Her DADA class especially had become treacherous. It seemed rather ironic to call it the Defence against the Dark Arts. They were forced to turn into what they were meant to defend against. It wasn’t a class she’d always found easy or anything like that, but, dear Merlin, she really did not anticipate practicing the Cruciatus curse on students, at all. She was absolutely mortified the first time.. She felt like retching the moment she’d spotted the innocents (just because the Carrows thought they were guilty of some rulebreaking did not mean they deserved an Unforgivable!) standing by the wall, most of them trembling and gripping it to hold themselves up.

She’d wanted to step out of the class that instant, but she realised an even worse fate would await her if she decided against it. Carrow hadn’t wasted even a second when Neville Longbottom declined the offer and quickly used his wand to cut into his cheek. She felt so immensely jealous as she saw they’d permitted stupid, awful, Malfoy out of the activity, him having muttered something about having enough experience with it to judge the others somehow accepted as a valid excuse by the monster that was Amycus Carrow. (Although she supposed his being a Death Eater also helped with that.)

Her wand had trembled as Carrow walked over to her and glared at her, then begun to yell at her to begin her casting the spell.

Ugh. His spit was sprinkled over her cheek. His teeth bared, yellow and grimy. She wiped it away with her wand and quickly turned her gaze away.

She had looked at the nervous ginger Hufflepuff girl in front of her with as much of an apologetic expression as she could muster, blurting out the incantation. She’d failed, of course, she knew such dark magic required true intent, something she really, really didn’t have in this situation. At all.

She had looked over at Malfoy with a look of immense hatred, almost wishing she could curse him instead. It had been him who’d brought this all upon them. If all the rumors were true, it was him who’d managed to get all the Death Eaters into the castle in the first place. It was him who’d been given the responsibility of killing Dumbledore, which of course, he hadn’t managed to do, (dear Merlin, that scoundrel can't do a single thing right!) but it was as good as if he had, right? But what she was surprised to see was his lanky figure trailing around behind the group, hands jittering as he nervously tugged at his lower lip with his teeth. He brought his hands into his now limp, blonde hair as he heard the first few cries of despair. His eyes then darted over and looked back at the students and Y/N quickly looked to the front again, confused by what she’d seen.

She went back to her dormitory and cried her eyes out, the screams of the students ripping through her the whole time. The sound was like a bell, it rang and rang, a death toll, a constant reminder of what a coward she was, a bell to swing her away from sleep's shy arms. She skipped dinner and even whatever little she’d even managed to eat earlier in the day was forced out of her system, but even that burning feeling in her throat couldn’t match the agony that embodied the guilt that had seemed to find a place to live inside of her.

This is all because of you! You didn’t even try to do anything! You’re such a coward! If you’d even tried the slightest bit to help everyone who’d been working against them, maybe all of those children wouldn’t have had to suffer like they had to today. You’re a terrible person! So extremely selfish!

She’d walked to the girls’ restroom by her dormitory and just stared into the mirror. Her eyes were rimmed red and her cheeks were unnaturally splotchy with color. This is your punishment, you know? Feeling like this? It’ll never go away. Ever. She didn’t even know where this train of thought had emerged from, but she couldn’t help but feel that she deserved all of it.

In an effort to drive away that sense of worthlessness, Y/N decided to take some kind of action. The first thing she decided to do was apologise as much as she possibly could to the Hufflepuff girl. The next morning, before breakfast, she’d waited outside the Great Hall to see if the girl was arriving, but to her astonishment, the girl was nowhere to be seen.

Could she have been staying in her dormitory for the day? Perhaps to somehow drown out all the trauma she’d experienced the previous day.. Or maybe she couldn’t get a wink of sleep all night like Y/N and was struggling to sleep now! She’d never be able to get to her then! That was if.. she even permitted her to. She supposed she would understand if that was the case as well, she definitely wouldn’t even want to associate with someone who’d been attempting to use an Unforgivable on her.. But what was suspicious was that most of the students who’d been part of those experimented on in that very sad class weren’t among the students gathered up for breakfast. They were all nowhere to be seen.

She couldn’t find the courage to ask her housemates if they had any idea where they could be. They all seemed equally taken aback by the events and an unnatural hush had spread around the area. She decided to skip breakfast, with her stomach still performing somersaults in her abdomen, and walked around the castle in hopes of figuring out where they’d all vanished to. She didn’t remember any students having stayed back in her own common room..

The first place (and thankfully, the last place she had to look in) she decided to go to proved to be exactly where everyone had ended up, the Hospital Wing. Most of the students there were lying on their beds, staring up at the ceiling vacantly and flinching as they heard her footsteps, while the rest were fast asleep in their beds, still in their uniforms. The students who were awake looked over at her, some even growing startled. She attempted to soothe them with a slight smile and it seemed to work, all of them returning to their same vacant looks.

Y/N shuffled over to the Hufflepuff from earlier, fiddling with the sides of her robes. The girl was fast asleep, her red curls strewn messily over her pillow. She seemed so peaceful like this.. It was as if yesterday had never happened.

“She’s taken a potion for dreamless sleep, are you a friend of hers?” She almost jumped up at the sudden words sprung at her and looked behind her. Madam Pomfrey had stepped out of her office and was glancing at Y/N curiously.

“Um.. sort of..” Y/N set her hands on her sides.

“Alright.. you’re free to stay here until it’s time for your next class. The students don’t seem to mind having you around much.” Madam Pomfrey adjusted her own robes and walked over to the other students, muttering something under her breath about punishments being out of hand..

Before she knew it, Y/N was stepping over to the woman to speak with her. At first, she wanted to ask her if she could allow her to use some of that potion herself, if perhaps she could be granted access to it for the rest of the year, but she found herself stumbling with her words. “M-madam.. I was wondering…”

“Yes?” The older woman turned around, her headdress swishing slightly.

“Well.. um..” You can’t possibly expect her to give any to someone who’s performed an Unforgivable on a younger student!

“Come on now, we don’t have all day.”

“I was wondering if I could help you. As in.. with the other students. I don’t want anything in return.. I just want to help them.” The words just came rushing out of her mouth and she could do nothing to stop them, and before she knew it, Pomfrey’d accepted her offer and basically made her consent to volunteering all her spare time in the Hospital Wing.

Y/N grew to love it, though. Helping ailing students certainly eased the burden she’d constantly felt on her shoulders. While she did absolutely detest seeing young ones in pain when they should have been playing around on the grounds without a care in the world, it was rewarding to her to be able to ease their struggles even the slightest bit.

As the months progressed, she found herself growing more and more curious into the world of Healing. She began picking up books in the library on the subject and going through them. Her newfound passion seemed to ease some of the guilt she’d been feeling, and so she delved even further.

In November, she discovered a book very much related to the field which most interested her which was seemingly untouched, Remedies For Wizarding War Maladies. It was an interesting read, to say the least. Some of the illustrations and images were hard to get through, but the instructions and articles along with them were extremely informative. It was also this book that introduced her to a more unfamiliar concept : shell shock.

While some of the new physical torture at Hogwarts (the Carrows were actually stooping down to hurt some students with their own bare hands) had certainly acquainted Y/N with all sorts of injuries, mental illness was something even Madam Pomfrey didn’t seem to really know much about. Shell shock was apparently first discovered by the Muggles during their own first World War. Soldiers would return traumatized and in some cases, senile, after being exposed to the terrifying reality of war. The Muggles had gone on to call it Post Traumatic Stress Disorder in recent times and had learnt that it wasn’t just war the illness could spring from, it was any sort of trauma.

Is this what I have? Is this what we all have? Is there even any real way to cure it? Or will we all just have to learn to live with that constant sense of hurt? Her heart seemed to drop lower down her chest as the thought of all the younger students experiencing such things popped into her head. All those children.. they aren’t even guilty of anything. Can being a muggle-born or a sympathizer be considered a crime? These people are absolutely inhuman.

Suddenly, she felt the urge to just take up all the first years in the castle and just wrap them up in a thick blanket. Perhaps just pretend to be their mother hen and keep them safe from any sort of harm. And so, these thoughts were what triggered her to break the rules for the first time in her life. She started to hide students the Carrows had called for detention or even further punishment. At first, she’d only been able to sneak girls away into her own dormitory or the restrooms. She’d keep them there until nightfall, then find a way to help them back to their own beds or conjure up mattresses for them to just sleep in hers. It was always very risky and so the only ones who even knew about it were the others who lived in the same room as her. They’d all sworn to keep it secret, but even then she sometimes just worked on these plans alone.

When she returned after her winter break, she began to feel extremely guilty for not protecting the boys as well. They were just as vulnerable and didn’t deserve anything they got from the Carrows either. Y/N began walking around the corridors at night, searching for a place to keep them. She had a lot of options to pick from, but all of them seemed easy to infiltrate. It was terribly frustrating. She’d realised a few members of ‘Dumbledore’s Army’ had more or less disappeared from the castle. Neville Longbottom.. Seamus Finnigan.. and countless others whose names she couldn’t recall.

She was walking along the seventh floor corridor one night, clad in a dressing robe and her pyjamas, when she saw someone she hadn’t seen in a long while coming out of a set of double doors she didn’t recognise : Longbottom. Very quickly, she made her way to him and questioned him, assuring him she wouldn’t rat him out.

The Room Of Requirement.. Of course that’s a thing. Everything makes sense now.

She begged him to let her allow other students who needed to hide from the Carrows into the room with him and was this close to actually kneeling in front of him when he finally agreed. Within weeks, it became routine for her to stop by the room with a couple of students before heading down to the Hospital Wing.

It soon became clear to the Carrows that there was an overwhelming amount of students on their ‘hit list’ that had gone missing over time. They’d begun to drop in uninvited into various common rooms and dormitories, not even caring for the students’ privacy anymore. It was during one of these unplanned drop ins that Y/N was finally caught red-handed.

She was walking through the corridors with a bunch of first year Gryffindors on a Hogsmeade weekend when the castle was supposed to be more or less empty. She’d been careless, really. She was sporting casual, colourful Muggle clothes, something the Carrows had seemed to absolutely despise, although they didn’t act much on it. In hindsight, it was also some sort of rebellion against them. Then, all of a sudden, Alecto had appeared out of nowhere and had nonverbally bound Y/N with ropes, making her fall to the ground while the first years began to panic and ran away helter skelter. Y/N began to squirm herself, her heart beginning to race in her chest as she stared into space. She began to hyperventilate and tears soon welled up in her eyes, and all Carrow did was laugh maniacally as she always did.

While Y/N might never even have come up among the Death Eaters before, this had effectively pulled her name onto the list of their most hated students. If she’d been in Dumbledore’s Army, Merlin knew she’d have been killed, but fortunately, or unfortunately rather, Alecto had Crucio-ed her personally till she could barely even feel her extremities anymore. The sudden experience had made her realise why many considered suffering the Cruciatus Curse even worse than death.

It really was worse than anything she’d ever experienced before. Heartbreak, cramps, broken bones, they were all nothing compared to that almost sizzling sensation that rang out throughout her body when the spell was inflicted on her. It was as if a billion, burning needles had poked through her skin and were splitting her apart, inch by inch. She wondered if that was how it felt when she’d been forced to cast it on those students. She then wished Alecto had just killed her and got it over with. The guilt which had made its way into her mind only continued to increase.

After they’d questioned her and she’d continually refused to offer in any sort of information on where Dumbledore’s Army was hiding, Y/N was practically a husk of the person she was before. She’d blacked out countless times after being tortured and there seemed to constantly be a metallic taste in the back of her throat. When they’d decided they’d had enough with her, they’d sent her off to Madam Pomfrey and that’s where she had woken up, tucked away in one of the beds she was used to tending to students in, with Madam Pomfrey standing beside it, holding a handkerchief to her face and shaking slightly.

“Oh, Miss Y/L/N, you’re awake.” She attempted to hide it behind her and sniffled slightly, but it was no use. Y/N opened her mouth to speak but could barely manage out a croak, so instead, she just gave her a weak smile and nodded, her neck still hurting the slightest bit as she did.

The days passed quickly after that. Sudden noises would still make her wince a bit and Dreamless Sleep Potion was the only way her nights weren’t interrupted by memories of that horrible, horrible occurrence. The Carrows had decided that she was to be expelled from the school after that, but instead of sending her back to her family, they (and apparently Snape agreed with them) felt she should be sent to Malfoy Manor. She barely had the energy to stand up for more than a few minutes and thus could barely even defend herself in front of them. She was forced to consent to this decision and went along with it, apparating there by herself after Madam Pomfrey deemed her healthy enough to, just to have her wand seized off her by one of the many Death Eaters there.

Life there was quite terrifying, even more than it was at the castle. The only thing that made it the slightest bit better was that she wasn’t forced to torture anyone, or have to witness it with her own eyes. She hated the cellar in the basement with every bit of her soul, but it was still some sort of refuge from what lay above. There were other students there too, but they were all younger than she was. There were families there too, couples who weren’t much older than she was, and people who looked to be even older than her own grandparents. It seemed to her that she was the most invulnerable among them. Even though she still felt like a small child who desired to cry forever in her heart, she pushed these thoughts away and tried to brace herself to stay strong for everyone else.

She found herself consoling crying prisoners, teaching them how to save the meagre gruel they got for later and hoping, wishing that everyone stuck in the cellar with her wasn’t destined for a premature death. While it wasn’t often that one of the prisoners was pulled out of the cellar to be tortured, she found herself growing anxious at the thought of something like that happening at all. Everyone there with her were in similar states as herself, faces pale or unnaturally pink, figures much thinner than they were originally and still in the dishevelled clothing they had on before.

One day, instead of the usual house elf coming down with their gruel, she realised that it was.. Draco Malfoy. She’d lost track of the days since she’d come here, but realised that it must be Easter break. He was bizarrely gentle and no one seemed repulsed at the sight of him, and so she grew curious.

The prisoners who’d been there a few months longer than she had told her stories of what he’d done in winter break, how he’d set a whole family free and helped so many others who were suffering out of the area and into another place. They seemed to trust him, and somehow, she felt she was growing towards it too.

I should hate him! She thought. He was always cruel! Always so unkind and ungrateful to anyone who wasn’t ready to suck up to him. His friends also seemed afraid of him. He’s the reason Dumbledore was murdered! He’s the reason the castle was taken over by the Death Eaters. I should hate him and never forgive him ever.

But for some reason, she realised something. He was still just a boy. He was still just seventeen (or perhaps eighteen, but that didn’t make a difference). She’d heard about everything with his father.. was that why he was the way he was? Why was he suddenly so kind with all of them? Was it all just an elaborate ruse to win their trust and then betray all of them in the end? Was he even leading all of these people out of the Manor? Or was he leading the poor idiots to their deaths?

Whatever it was, she knew she’d never be able to get an answer if she kept on placing so much disbelief in the boy’s deeds. It wasn’t soon before he’d begun helping the other prisoners out during his stay. He’d seemed to have noticed her, but of course, smiling politely or engaging in small talk were really out of the question. He’d seemed to have wanted to help her out as well, but she declined any such offers, pointing him towards others who were clearly suffering more than she was.

Merlin knew she craved some Dreamless Sleep potion, then perhaps she wouldn’t have those dreams anymore. She had forced herself not to think about it much but it still ate away at her. What must have happened to her family? Had the Carrows sent out something to capture them too? The dreams she had of them were all alarmingly short. In some of them they’d be screaming for her to help them, in some they’d smile and wave, but then just disappear. Regardless, if there was anything she wanted more than for all of the other prisoners to escape, it was to see her loved ones again. There was no saying what the Death Eaters might have done to them.

It had been a week or so since Draco had first begun helping people out of the Manor in front of her. Some kind of memory or dream had sparked the third year Gryffindor to cry, Emile, if she remembered correctly. She was attempting to help him feel better, rubbing his back as he lay down on the floor, his chest shuddering as he continued to sob.

She was almost stunned when Malfoy arrived and politely waved her off. She just sat back and watched the display in front of her. Who would have thought Draco Malfoy, the boy who seemed to be popular for getting on everyone’s nerves (and maybe, just maybe for not looking.. unattractive), would be up to something like this in the height of the Second Wizarding War, that too with his family on the Dark side of all things?

She’d leaned onto a wall as her eyes followed Malfoy leading Emile out of the cellar. And then, hoping he’d lead him to a safe place, she took a deep breath and relaxed. She sat in her place quietly, smiling over at any child who waved over at her when suddenly, she heard shouting from upstairs.

Everyone in the cellar fell silent and looked at each other, confused yet curious as to what the commotion was about. Y/N felt a sudden lurch of anxiety inside of her. Had they been caught? Had they brought new prisoners? Were they going to take someone else upstairs? She looked around at the others in the room, shifting to hug her knees.

Before she could understand what was going on, she heard someone yelling as they walked down the steps outside. Everyone looked over at the door curiously and were astonished at who came in. It was Draco Malfoy. The heir of the very wealthy family whose manor they were all forced to reside in was bundled up on the floor, clearly injured.

She was this close to getting up to check on him when he sat up himself, muttered something and then stared back at the rest of them. He managed out a few more words and then shrunk back, covering his face as she assumed he began to cry, slight sniffles audible.

When she thought others had stopped paying attention, she went over to talk to him. She felt so very pitiful for him as he spoke, and suddenly, she offered him a hug and he actually accepted it. He held her very tightly and shivered, almost exactly like a scared child would. She could feel him continue to cry and nodded gently as he confessed to her his fears.

She was almost certain that he’d never said any of this to anyone before. He truly was just a child in front of her in that moment, and she held onto him as such. She found herself pressing a gentle peck to his head, she almost froze, thinking it was too much but Draco only seemed to relax further, and so she just held him the way he had arranged the two of them, her hand still ruffling his hair gently.

He soon fell asleep in her arms and with her head resting atop his, she felt like she was really cradling a sleeping child. Well, a child that was much larger and heavier than she was, but much more vulnerable in that moment. As he fell silent and leaned sideways onto the wall, she began to think to herself, hands still gently stroking the fabric of his dark shirt.

Would he be able to make it out of this alive? With him laying against her the way he was and how hopeless he’d acted.. It was perfectly clear what his stance on the issue was. He wasn’t wrong.. He Who Must Not Be Named wasn’t known for being merciful. So, really, the question was, when and how? But Y/N wasn’t one to consider someone who’d presented themselves so vulnerably to her as good as dead. If only she had her wand..

She could have cast a nice Disillusionment Charm on him. Or, perhaps even tried Human Transfiguration and changed his features into those of a stranger. Or, she wished that she could just use some Muggle tactics like a tarp to hide him if anyone came looking. But obviously, there was nothing she could do but hope for the best.

Soon enough, he was slumped against the wall, his hands loosely gripping at the hem of her sweater and his mouth open as he took slow, deep breaths. She slowly shifted back and laid his head against the wall. His face was unusually soft, that scowl that normally decorated it was nowhere to be seen. It made Y/N more curious as to whom he really was. Perhaps his usual selfish, arrogant persona was just pretense. Just a mask for how innocent he was inside.

She reached over to brush a stray strand of hair behind his ear, fingers brushing by the side of his face. Draco stirred slightly and flinched at her touch, which made her draw her hand back. Soon, she detached herself from him and sat beside him, nibbling nervously at her lower lip.

She got up and tried to get her mind off of it again. Some children were gathered together, talking about something and giggling to themselves. She really did look up to their ability to make the best out of every situation. If only she could have been ten again. Then perhaps people would have enough sympathy not to hurt her, and then she wouldn’t have been in Hogwarts at all, so all those memories wouldn’t have burned into her mind. But now, really, all that she could do was hope for the best.

She felt her stomach growling and sat down on the floor, hugging her knees again in an attempt to somehow hide it and cause that feeling to shrink away. She felt warmer curled up like that as well, even a bit childlike. She smiled to herself for a second and shut her eyes, but sat up straight again as those bloody visions returned.

She took deep breaths to soothe herself, trying her best not to attract the attention of anyone near her. She bit down on her lip harshly and looked over at how peaceful Draco looked asleep, his nostrils flaring slightly. He even resembled a sleeping child. She felt her lips curling upwards and she was reminded of her own loved ones. Oh, how she missed them.. This would be her first Easter without them. This drove her to a train of thought she really wasn’t fond of.

Is this the first of many? Where even are they? Are they even alive? Are they happy? Do they know where I am? Do they know I’m alive?

She felt goosebumps beginning to rise at the back of her neck as she grew more and more anxious.

Will I even be alive to see them ever again? Are they hurt all because of me? Will I make it out of here alive? Or will I even be able to speak to them? How much longer does Draco have? Will I be able to protect him?

I won’t! Of course I won’t! I’m so goddamn useless. All I’ve done is let everyone down. Those Gryffindors.. I don’t even know if they’re alright today. I just left them astray. How could I have been so careless? They were all just children. Defenseless against the Carrows. Of course they must be hurt. All because of me! You probably lead the Carrows straight to the Army’s hideout. They’re probably all getting tortured because of you now.

Images of Neville and his friends being whipped and Crucio-ed suddenly sprung up in her mind and she began to shudder visibly. Similar images of her own family popped up in her head and she retched, suddenly shifting off to the corner and kneeling, that similar burning in her throat as she got rid of whatever gruel she’d scarfed down earlier in the day.

Would it ever stop hurting? Would such innocent sights always continue to spark such painful reactions? There was no way for her to know. None at all. She gripped her stomach and shifted away from the wall, disgusted by the sight of her own sick. Others noticed her and came to comfort her, but alas! There was someone coming down the stairs again. Someone wearing heels.

She heard that same wicked laughter everyone in the cellar had learned to fear. She knew what was happening. It was time for Draco to.. NO! She wasn’t going to let that happen!

She walked over to him and slumped down next to him, setting her arms around his neck again. He woke up quickly and shook in her grasp, but relaxed again. “..Y/N?” He muttered as he hugged her again, setting his head on top of hers again. “What happened? Are you alright?”

She hadn’t even realised when the tears had made their way out of her eyes and had begun to drip onto his shirt. “I’m fine.. Just.. just shh..” She drew her head back and looked at him again, studying his face carefully. He looked alarmed, not afraid as he should have been, but suddenly his expression grew more and more nervous. He’d heard the footsteps.

“Is that..?” He didn’t complete his statement and drew her closer to him, his hands rising up to grip her shoulders. She could feel his arms shielding her in that position, trying to hide her almost. She couldn’t help but shift onto his lap, still sniffling as she buried her face in the crook of his neck. Maybe if they sat that way Bellatrix wouldn’t see where Draco was and leave. And then maybe that would be it. She couldn’t let somebody else get hurt. Not again.

The cellar door slammed open but Y/N kept her eyes shut tight, holding him as close to her as she could. He began crying himself and was literally clinging to her for life. She looked up at his face and his eyes met hers, blinking slowly as a single tear dripped down his cheek. The heels clicked over nearer to them and she swore she heard her grunt. Draco suddenly gulped and whispered to her. “L-let go of me.”

“Are you- No, I can’t.”

“Please.. She-she won’t hesitate to hurt you..”

“No,no.. It doesn’t matter. I have to-”

“Y/N, please. You don’t deserve to get hurt all because of me.”

Y/N gave in and slipped off of him, her side towards the wall as she continued to face him. Bellatrix saw him and cackled again, walking over to grab him by the ear. She glanced over at Y/N and her eyes narrowed. “You’re turning into a blood traitor right before our very eyes, aren’t you, Draco?” He didn’t say a word but let out a groan of pain, his pale face turning red.

She wanted so badly to stop what was going on, to just grab onto Draco’s hand and pull him back. If she’d had the courage to do so, she would have stopped Bellatrix with her bare hands and would have nipped the problem in the bud right there. But she sat there, just frozen, tears streaming down her cheeks.

As Bellatrix pulled him out of the cellar and shut the door behind her, Y/N felt as if everything was moving in slow motion around her. She could feel her heart begin to pound in her chest and she slid onto the floor, everything around her growing hazy as her breaths quickened.

She’d let another person down again! Just like all those other times. She really couldn’t do a single thing right. All she’d done thus far was lead to others getting hurt.

She felt her throat tighten and she spluttered out, eyes darting around frantically. She gripped the cold edge of the wall and forced herself to sit up and count to ten. I can’t give in to those feelings. Not like this.

She felt someone’s hand on her shoulder and shuddered at first, but then relaxed as she realised who it was. “Luna..” The blonde just nodded and squeezed her shoulder reassuringly. “I’ll sit with you Y/N… that was very hard to watch from afar as well, you know.” She didn’t respond to this and just stared down at her lap, her breaths slowing back down to normal.

It wasn’t long before another bunch of footsteps rang out outside the door and two familiar faces popped in. She recognised them almost instantly. It was almost to be expected.. their unexpected heroics. Weasley and.. what looked like Potter were standing by the door, curiously staring at all the prisoners. Luna sprung up almost immediately and went over to them, but she wasn’t as cheery as she always used to be, and the two looked at her as if she was some queer exhibit at a museum.

Weasley walked over to the door and stared out the small window at the top as a girl’s bloodcurdling scream rung out from above. Who is that…? It can’t be.. Granger?! Y/N felt panicked again but forced herself to stay calm, something very, very odd was about to happen and she couldn’t risk losing her marbles in a situation like this.

Weasley shouted out something to the two of them and Potter nodded before reaching into his pocket for what looked like a piece of glass. He turned it over in his palm before his eyes widened behind his glasses, and he muttered something to it. Seems like the war is driving him mad as well..

Y/N sat there for a bit, then shifted over to the other prisoners, trying her best to answer any doubts they had about what was going on. This was quite difficult with her own lack of knowledge, but she managed to satiate them by telling them that they were a part of the right side of things.

A loud ‘pop’ sound grabbed everyone’s attention, and an oddly dressed house elf had appeared in the middle of the room. “Dobby!” Potter called out and hobbled over to speak to him. Soon, Potter looked over at the crowd and began to speak.

“Everyone…Dobby will get you out of here and to a safe house. Please keep calm and quiet, and we’ll get you all out soon enough.” Everyone grew excited at once, especially the children, at even the prospect of escaping.

Y/N should have been jumping out of her skin with glee, hugging one of the other students, but something continued to eat away at her insides.

“Th-thank you so much… for all of this. Really. Some people here have been trapped for months.” She said to them once the others seemed to have scampered off to get their things. “I’ve realised only recently how terrifying all of this is.. We’ll never be able to pay you back for this. Life here has been hell.”

Potter muttered something dismissively but Y/N barely even registered any sounds coming from his mouth, her brain still caught up in a weird frenzy. “Please-please.. Try and save Draco.” She swallowed and surveyed their faces as she said this, remembering their school yard rivalry with him. Both of their faces grew alarmed at first, with Weasley’s expression turning into a bit of a snarl while Potter just stared at her like she was crazy.

“I know you never got along with him.. And that he was mean and everything. Believe me, I remember all of that. But.. here.. There were apparently way more people here before winter break. Draco helped all of them escape. Seriously.” She stared down at her feet, now afraid to meet their gazes. “Draco was helping a third year escape even today and he got caught during by some of the Death Eaters.. I’m sure they’ll kill him or torture him to death if he’s left here.”

She looked up at them again and the both of them were clearly uncomfortable. Weasley glanced over to the side and flinching as the same girl’s screams rang out again. He walked over to the door while Potter looked back at her timidly. “Y/L/N.. we’ll.. try our best. You should go along with that group..” He pointed over at a bunch of students huddled together, whispering something.

She nodded and smiled weakly at him. “Thank you. For everything.” She walked over to the group and joined them, offering them all a smile and whispering words of encouragement. She knew she could hide her anxiety for now and looked over at the house-elf as it appeared. It waddled over to them and they quickly bunched up around it. Its ball-like eyes looked around at them and its mouth curled into a smile. “Hang on tight.”

It snapped its fingers and Y/N felt that same strange tugging sensation under her navel, feeling herself getting pulled forward and almost falling into space when suddenly, her body met solid ground. She sat up straight and looked around herself. They’d all been transported to a beach, a nice expansive beach. There was a cottage a short walk away where she could see a few people waving over at them and some prisoners were already walking towards it. She decided not to get up as yet, running her fingers through the soft sand and thinking to herself.

You will see him again. He hasn’t died because of you. Get a grip on yourself.

#this is kind of a hot mess #bear with me #also this will be my last piece up for a WHILe #school got me fucked up #draco x reader #draco malfoy #draco malfoy x reader #draco #hp #draco imagine #draco malfoy imagine #hp imagine #fluff #romance #death eater #angst

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gold-from-straw · 5 years

Text

Frozen Heart - ch5

Loki has a bad morning, but on the plus side, now Tony is well rested, he's able to recognise some accidental culture clash and resolve their awful misunderstanding! TW for panic attacks, blood, and accidental self-harm caused by a nightmare.

Read from the beginning on AO3 if you prefer! I’m tagging anyone who left a note on the previous chapter here as well, hope that’s OK!

Loki woke with a jolt, his heart pounding, nightmares of a frozen world and evil red eyes lingering in the fringes of his mind. He lifted trembling hands to cover his face, and nearly screamed.

He stumbled out of bed, his heart thumping, trying to get away from the vicious black claws, the blue skin that had haunted his nightmares since his childhood. He scratched at his arm, tore at the pale lines raised in the skin, whimpering and panicking, the quiet, calm voice inside now drowned out by the storm, and he couldn’t find himself, couldn’t dig himself out from under this hellish mask, this curse, this…

“Hey! Hey, Loki, please, calm, will you? Hey, look at me? I’m not going to touch you, alright? I just want you to look at the lights, can you do that? Can you breathe in with the light as it gets brighter? That’s great, keep going… OK, and now out. Like you’re whistling, purse your lips, yeah, just like that. Now in, feel it… feel it filling you up or… yeah, this is good. That’s great, buddy. OK, I’m just gonna… can I see your arms?”

Stark came closer, still holding his hands out in front of him and looking as unthreatening as possible. Logically Loki could see that he was veryunthreatening, a small mortal in soft clothing, hair still sleep-mussed and face pillow-creased, but with his heart still hammering inside his own chest, he couldn’t handle logic at all. He tugged his arms closer to himself, fingers slick with his own blood.

Then he looked down. The blood was indigo. He whimpered and pushed his arms out as far from himself as he could, staggering backwards, his breathing speeding up again.

“Hey, hey, it’s OK! I’ll get them fixed up, no worries.” Stark cupped his hands around Loki’s wrists, making a surprised hum. “Wow, you’re cold.”

Loki let out a burst of hysterical laughter that very nearly turned into a sob. How utterly pathetic. To have been reduced to a scared child, cowering in someone else’s room, terrified of his own appearance after a nightmare… Loki turned his face and closed his eyes. It was almost unbearable.

Stark tugged him gently over to the bed, encouraging him to sit. He left him there, staring down helplessly, hatefully, at his blue, bleeding arms. “Here we go,” Stark said a moment later, setting a bowl of water down by Loki’s feet. He took Loki’s wrist in his hand and started dabbing the blood away, staining the water an inky blue. Loki stared at the colour diffusing through the water and tried not to despair.

“There we go,” Stark said with a grin. Loki looked at his forearms, wrapped in pristine white bandages. He felt emptied out, like his heart had been excavated from his chest, leaving him dull and hollow. Stark’s smile slowly slipped from his face and he bit his lip. “Ah, do you… do you want to talk a bit?”

Loki blinked at him.

“Like, uh… do you maybe want to… were you trying to, um. Were you trying to hurt yourself? Is this, like, a self-harm thing? Because I won’t judge, I just…” He scruffed his hair. “Yeah, I’m not very good at this shit. Are you… OK?” He winced and looked at Loki sideways, almost as if he thought Loki would strike him for his question.

“No, Stark,” said Loki, his voice sounding very distant. “I am not OK.”

“Yeah, I kinda… got that.” Stark sat on his haunches and rubbed his face. “You know what? We need a load of breakfast. I’m thinking pastries and donuts, something that won’t go cold or soggy, and then I think you should tell me all about it. I mean, I can’t promise I’ll be any help.” He winced again. “Honestly, I’ll probably be shit. Like, worse than nothing. I’m not… the best listener. Or the best friend. But…” he shrugged and looked away like he didn’t care at all. “Yeah, croissants! JARVIS, could you order us, eh, I dunno, one of everything from Belle Maison?”

“Of course, Sir,” JARVIS replied.

Loki looked up in the direction of the voice. He had been introduced to JARVIS the night before, but this morning, after a night of somewhat effective sleep, he could cling to the fascination sparking in his chest, distract himself. “Is your companion made of magic?” he asked.

“What, JARV? Nah - or, well, he’s an AI - artificial intelligence. He’s made out of computer code and electronics and… stuff.”

“I blush, Sir,” said JARVIS dryly.

Stark just smirked. “I’ll show you the bots in a minute, it might make a bit more sense then. Assuming you’re still up for a bit of research in a while?”

Loki felt the cold flood through his system once more, ridiculous for a Frost Giant. He had forgotten during Stark’s treatment of him this morning that he was little more than a prisoner here. He was Stark’s research project, and nothing more - this had not been kindness, but a care for one’s tools. Loki summoned up a professional mask and nodded.

Stark blinked, his own smile faltering. “OK… OK, if you’re sure? Anyway. For now, do you want a coffee or something? I need coffee, I’m not human without the first one of the morning.”

Loki narrowed his eyes at him. “Hyperbole?” he asked.

Stark winked at him. “Only just. C’mon, Billy Goat Gruff, let me hook you up with the good stuff.”

Loki had hoped that the distraction of breakfast and coffee would make Stark forget his demand that they talk, but once they’d eaten a couple of the sweet treats, he tapped his fingernails on the polished stone of the high table he called a breakfast bar. “So, Loki-Doki, you wanna tell me your story? How did you end up in a crater on another planet causing snow in the desert?”

Loki closed his eyes for just a moment, put his pastry down on the plate and clenched his hands into fists under the table. “As you wish,” he said, his voice strained.

Stark frowned. “Hey, no, it’s fine if you don’t wanna tell me, you know? I just… thought it might…” He scrubbed his hair again. “I dunno, help? People are always asking me if I want to talk, I just thought it was the done thing, or something. You don’t have to.”

“No, I am yours to command.”

Stark made a face. “Not really, though.” His eyes suddenly widened. “Holy shit. Holy… did I say something? Was there a culture clash here? Have I like… I didn’t sign you up to be my indentured servant or some bullshit, did I?”

Loki peered up at him, surprised at himself that his head had ducked so low, that his shoulders were so hunched over. “You said you would give me sanctuary in exchange for experiments…”

“I did?”

“You did imply something along those lines, Sir,” JARVIS interjected.

Stark pressed his hands to his cheeks. “What the fuck? Why didn’t you tell me, JARV?”

“I didn’t realise that Master Loki would take the combination of words in such a literal way. My apologies, Sir. And to Master Loki.”

Loki frowned. “You did not… but why would you take me in if not to-”

“I mean, sure, I wanted to study you,” Stark wailed. “But only if you wanted to find stuff out too, or like, show off… I don’t want you to be here against your will, holy shit, have I kidnapped you? Oh my god, I’m so sorry, shit!”

Loki blinked, shocked. Stark was apologising? To him? And in such distress! But Loki was nothing to him, here he was not even a prince, why would Stark care about whether or not Loki would choose to be with him? “I don’t… you do not have to…”

“I mean, I thought we were just gonna do some cool science together, I had no idea I was dragging you here like some sort of a threat, am I SHIELD in this situation? Oh my god, I’m basically Agent, guh, I’m gonna be sick, JARVIS!” He turned to Loki with wild eyes. “I am really, really sorry.”

Loki stared at him. There was a warmth in his chest, a spreading feeling he barely recognised. When was the last time someone had apologised to him? Someone of consequence, not a servant or a subject - and even then, they would always do so with gritted teeth. Loki knew he was unpopular. He’d never attempted to change that - it had always seemed so immutable a fact. Loki the trickster, don’t trust him, don’t listen, don’t spend any time near him in case he turns you into a goat.

“I would… I would like to stay,” he said, and he tried to hide a wince at how vulnerable his voice sounded. “I am interested in your science. In our differences.”

“Really?” Stark said, freezing in his distressed motions. “Are you sure, though? You’re not just saying that because I’ve, like, activated some hospitality clause I didn’t know about? You’re choosing to--”

“I am choosing, freely,” he said, swallowing and looking up at Stark. “If I am welcome, still?”

Stark’s face broke into a wide grin. “Hell, yeah, you’re welcome!” He let out a long breath. “Phew, god, that was awful!”

Loki’s lip quirked up. “Why was it so awful?”

“Well, I don’t know what life’s like on your planet or whatever, but we humans don’t like coercing other people.” He made a face. “Well, the non-assholes don’t. Yeah, actually, scrap that? I don’t like coercing people. I can’t talk for the rest of them.”

Loki grinned. “Your realm is not so different from mine, in that case. It sounds as if there are plenty of assholes in both.”

“I mean, honestly, I probably count as one of the assholes most of the time.” Tony shrugged. “Hey, do you want to go down to the lab now? I can show you the bots, and we can find out what your alien biology looks like on my holos.”

And just like that, Loki was reminded what he was, his freakish blue skin, the horns, the demonic red of his eyes. He held himself still, trying not to wince, trying not to react, for how could he explain this? He would just have to control his expressions, focus on the science. Because perhaps there would be something in Stark’s ‘lab’ which would help him to find his way back to his old - no, his true form.

But Stark stopped mid-sentence. “No? What? What is it? We won’t do anything you don’t want to,” he said, biting his bottom lip again.

Had he always been this obvious? No-one in Asgard would ever have noticed, but Stark had spotted his reticence at once - and Loki had been actively trying to hide it. Had his masks ever been as strong as he had believed? Or had nobody ever been truly looking? Loki stared at Stark, amazed at the perceptiveness of this small, sparkling mortal. “It’s…”

“I’m serious, Loki, we won’t do anything you don’t want to, OK?” Stark said, holding his gaze. “If there’s anything you don’t like, we’ll stop, no matter how far through the process we are, if there’s anything you don’t even like the look of, we won’t do it. And of course, I’ll put myself through everything you do - like, except for actually doing magic, ‘cause I can’t. Oh, and I can’t go into an MRI because of this,” he added, tapping the centre of his chest over the odd glow. “But you don’t have to do that either.”

Loki searched his face for any hint of a trick, any lie, and found only compassion. He swallowed hard. “I do not look like this,” he said, his voice nothing more than a croak. “I mean… not usually.” He looked down at his hands, clenching them into fists and feeling the sharp, obsidian nails digging into his skin. “I was Aesir - I am Aesir. I must be. But… during my brother’s coronation, I just… this happened. I turned into this… this monster, and now… now my magic is different, cold…” he took a deep, shuddering breath, the fear sending icy tendrils through every nerve. He looked at the table and gasped. Frost swirled out from every contact point with his skin, and he jerked his hands back in horror.

“Hey, hey, it’s OK,” Stark said, holding his hands out, placating the beast once more. “It’s OK.” He took a deep breath. “Hey, I know we said we didn’t have to talk, but do you want to tell me about it? And then… maybe we can get you back to normal?”

Tags from last chapter: @aformingsiren, @sketch953, @massivelandthingdonkey, @angrysockpuppetnoises, @ultra-rare-pegacorn, @redramzi, @senpaiweird, @giggling-breeze, @rarepair-collector, @saturnjuice, @kuree06 <3

#My writing #Frozen Heart #frozen AU #frostiron #tony stark #loki #loki/tony #hurt/comfort

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blueyesandleatherjacket · 5 years

Text

The summertime of our lives, 3/?

Volume: 1.

Number of parts: 3/?.

Pairings: Ninetoo x Rose.

A/N: Written for @doctorroseprompts summer bingo. Five summer-themed words: Sunset, Laugh, Game, Fruit, Swim (BINGO!). Tagging @thebookster on her demand.

“Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day?” - William Shakespeare.

CHAPTER 3:

The Doctor was astonished. He hadn’t seen that one coming and even if he had seen it coming, he would still had been left speechless. This day hadn’t been a good one in his book. It had begun smoothly with that surprise and the talk he had had with Rose, but then, he had been arrested by Alec Hardy, almost ended up in a hospital and learnt more about Rose in five minutes than he had in months. She had driven him home, forced him do drink more – he was glad that she had a go at Alec for leaving him locked in that overheated cell. The only thing he wanted to know was what was the surprise she had in store for him. He wasn’t patient, nor was he used to be the one left to ponder. Rose Tyler had been one of his best companions and she obviously had learnt some tricks from him. He hated the fact that it was used against him.

He never thought he would see one those things ever again in his shorten life. He thought he had destroyed them all. This universe wasn’t supposed to have this kind of technology either. There were aliens but they didn’t have time travel or dimension travel technologies. Because the dimension canon built by Torchwood obviously. So when Rose had pulled out this wrist device similar to the one Jack was wearing when they met that night. She had just given him a cheeky smile before fastening it around her arm. She hooked her other arm around his and dialled on the small keyboard. He had known what would happen; had known that he would feel disoriented and nauseous, that he would stumble and maybe fall. This device wasn’t protecting the user. It was just teleporting them from point A to point B. The TARDIS at least was keeping them safe when they were travelling. Another reason that made him miss his precious ship. What he wouldn’t give to have it back! But that was impossible.

He was dizzy, lost his balance and fell on all four. Rose only stumbled. She chuckled and held a hand out to him to help him up but his eyes were stuck on the scene before him. She could see the shock on his face, the disbelief, the feeling of hallucinating and it was amusing her. Before, it was the expression she was wearing when he was showing her something out of her comfortable little world. It was funny to see the parts reversed this time again.

“Where are we?”

His voice was barely more than a murmur. He forced himself to his feet, his eyes still on the object of his wonder. The surroundings were dark, cold and this thing was shining like the sun and calling for him. He didn’t move. He was hypnotized by the beauty of the scene but his reason was telling him that it couldn’t be true.

“Somewhere on Earth, somewhen in time. This seemed like the safest place at the moment. It still is true.”

“You could have built it at home. I would have loved it.”

“I didn’t build this. I’m not clever enough…”

“You are more than clever.”

“Not enough to build a TARDIS.”

What he had before his eyes indeed was a growing type 40 TARDIS. Identical to the one he had stolen thousands years ago. Sure the police box shape had become his favourite but having a real TARDIS? That was unexpected, astonishing. He had a hard time believing it.

“That can’t be possible. How would you… It would take a thousand years or more. I t can’t…”

“There was a coral strut with the sonic. And a letter. I followed the instructions after finding this place. I couldn’t do it at home, couldn’t let Torchwood know about it.”

“You don’t trust them much.”

He didn’t trust them either, but he had his own personal reasons to. Her own father was the head of the company specialised in alien technologies. She had worked with them. Something must have happened before he arrived for her to be so distrustful of Torchwood.

“I can’t trust them, nor any of what they do. I don’t like the way they work. It’s… wrong.”

“What do they do?”

She didn’t answer, turned her head away. She didn’t want him to read on her face. He was very good at that and she preferred keeping those secrets for herself. He was no man to accept this though. He got closer to her, grabbed her hand, intertwined their fingers. She was tensed and he was curious. He needed to know why she was acting like this, why she was doing things secretly.

“Tell me.”

His voice was softer, he brought her closer. She could trust him. She could always trust him. He wouldn’t betray her, would do anything to protect her. He had learnt a long time ago that Rose was no damsel in distress, no damsel to save. She could do that herself. However, she also had a deep vulnerability she was keeping hidden under a tough shield. Only him could see through. He had been her confident before and she had been deprived from him for years, had had to stay there without an ally or almost. And now he was back by her side and could see all the cracks in her shield. It was up to him to fix them all.

“It wasn’t something planned.” She swallowed, squeezed his hand, kept her eyes on the TARDIS. “In the first few months, we spent our time together to get to know each other better. Then we said goodbye and mom told Pete about how I sacrificed myself to save your life. She didn’t know much about the TARDIS, about the Vortex and all but Pete had done his researches.”

Her voice broke, he brought her closer to him, wrapped her in a protective embrace. She was trembling but not crying. Even there, in an unknown place and time, she was holding on. She was resisting. Hiding her feelings. Hesitating. Just like this day on the cliff. Alec had prevented her from jumping; the Doctor would have told her that if she was jumping, he would jump too. That was just how he was. Brave, stupidly brave for her.

“What has he done to you?”

Anger boiled in his veins. She could almost feel it when she put her head on his chest. She should be scared of such a fury. She really should be. He was the Oncoming Storm, the man standing as an obstacle in front of every threat without fear. Or seemingly without fear. He was mad at himself, at the universe, at the Time Lords. But we would do anything to keep her safe. Human or Time Lord, it didn’t matter. If his Rose was or had been hurt, he would unleash his rage. He would become the Oncoming Storm again.

“Rose.”

He slipped two fingers under her trembling chin and made her look up at him. His heard ached at the sight of so much pain and despair swirling in her amber brown eyes. Fear too, the fear of seeing so much anger in his eyes. He softened. He didn’t want to scare her. He just wanted to help.

“Since he met us the first time, Pete has done a lot of researches. I don’t know how but he found out that I absorbed the Time Vortex, that I was Bad Wolf. They took me by surprise. Drugged my morning tea. When I woke up, I was in a sort of glass coffin and they… they were testing me.”

All his body tensed at that tale. Her own family had betrayed her, thrown her into a complex situation she was alone to deal with. They had turned her into a Guinea pig, run tests on her, probably used her against her will and no one had raised a finger to help her.

“Does your mum know about this?”

Rose shook her head, “I couldn’t bring myself to tell her. I’ve never seen her this happy back in our world… I don’t want to ruin this.”

For a reason he wouldn’t be able to explain, the Doctor understood. He had been in Rose’s past many times – always made sure to never intervene and change anything, except for that red bicycle for her twelfth Christmas – had been in Jackie’s past as well and her attachment to Pete Tyler was something he thought he would never experience. The woman had been destroyed by his death despite their up and down relationship and had focused entirely on giving Rose a better life than hers… But Pete was back – another version of him for that mattered – and Rose was an adult who could handle herself. And their so strong bond had slowly faded. A sad story.

“How did you get out?”

Coming from Rose, he expected something impressive and clever but his reason was telling him otherwise. She remembered so they obviously hadn’t erased her memory or they had done it very badly. Could it be that they just…?

“They let me go. Who would have believed me anyway?”

Who would have listened to her in the first place? She had no friends back then, no one to speak to. Pete had her figured out in very little time. He had guessed she wouldn’t speak to her mother, no matter how close they still were back then. It really infuriated the Doctor. How could he have been so wrong on someone? Had he just wanted to see what he wanted to see for his Rose? How would she have survived if this human self of the man she loved hadn’t been created?

“But the worse is that they found something.”

His body tensed. Rose sniffled and wiped her nose with her hand. Her eyes were red but dry. She kept her voice steady as she explained to him that becoming the Bad Wolf hadn’t been without consequences. He had acted in time and saved her but the energy had corrupted a part of her. She was still human but an improved human: better senses, an ability for telepathic communications, a formidable gift for healing physical wound, an extraordinary awareness to the time passing. Nothing really out of the ordinary but Torchwood knew about it. They could use it to force her into doing stuff for them and who knew what else. He didn’t ask questions and she didn’t add more to the story. He didn’t want to know more. Not yet. Not if she wasn’t ready. It was enough for now.

He teleported them back home. The sun was slowly setting, drowning its burning rays in the quiet sea. The air was fresher than earlier, more pleasurable. They settled down on the chairs outside the house with the picnic they were supposed to eat earlier on the yacht. The Doctor would say that it was cliché but it was quite romantic, in the modern sense of the term. Their mood was cheerier as they shared sandwiches and beers while watching the sun disappearing.

“I could get used to that.”

“Hm?”

“Spending evenings with you like this, just the two of us. Having a normal life.”

It had been silently decided that they wouldn’t talk about the TARDIS when they were out of the safety bubble that Rose had found to be sure the ship would grow peacefully until it reached maturity. In a couple months, they would be back where they really belonged. In the meanwhile, they would build their perfect little life together on Earth. Like normal people.

The sun was now long gone and they were still outside their rented house. Rose was uncontrollably laughing about him fighting the mosquitos and butterflies – “of all the things that could have disappeared, those freaking blood suckers have decided to stay and be the summer destroyers in every existing parallel world!” – and she found it heartily funny to watch him slap the night warm air in an incredibly stupid and yet sexy dance. Nothing could be funnier than this at the moment. She was on her fourth beer though. You would think that someone whose DNA had been improved by the Time Vortex would handle alcohol better. He was only slightly tipsy and grinning at her because there was nothing better than observing a happy Rose.

“We should play a game!”

She put the bottle down and her face showed that she was exulting. What did she have in mind that could cause such a burst of joy? She made the bottle spin several times until the neck ended its course in his direction with a mischievous smile on her face. He raised an eyebrow, getting really curious now.

“Truth or dare?”

“You’re not man enough for that, Tyler,” he laughed.

“You ready to bet on that, Doctor?”

He liked the expression of challenge on her face. That was triggering something in him. He drank the rest of his beer in one go and placed the empty bottle with the two others on his right. He looked at Rose in the eyes. She held his gaze, wasn’t gonna avoid this intense blue staring.

“Dare.”

He was playful. She wanted to play, he was gonna play. All night if that was what she wanted. He was ready for the challenge and she appeared to be too. He expected her to suddenly fall asleep once the alcohol and laughing and fatigue of the day would get to her but she was remaining wide awake despite the passing hours. No more alcohol for their the pack they had drunk. More and they would see Shitface coming to them and lock them in a tiny cell. An experience the Doctor wasn’t ready to live again. He had been in that situation too many times before.

“If you were given the chance, would you go back with him?”

She had picked truth and he had pronounced the question that had been haunting his mind. One of them at least. His heart was racing; he wasn’t sure he would hear the answer. Did he want an answer at all? According to the face Rose was making now, he probably wouldn’t even have that answer. Her smile was gone, the redness on her cheeks was due to the alcohol. She looked away, played with her fingers. He shouldn’t have asked that.

“I would go back to my original universe without hesitation.”

“So you’d go to him.”

He wasn’t disappointed. He had expected the answer. He had dreaded that answer. It was his turn to look away. The harm was done, the joy was gone. He traced the seams of his jeans. He couldn’t tell if he was sad or else. He was being realistic. She loved him but she loved the true Doctor more. It would be the pretty boy. It would always be the pretty boy.

“He has left me behind. More times than I can count, in more ways than I can tell.” She looked back at him. “You would never even think of leaving my side. Well, the Doctor who wore your face always came to find me if I was wandering around.”

“And you were wandering around all the time.”

“Curious, me.”

“I love that about you. You’re curious, you want to learn, you’re not afraid to make a stand for what is right.”

“I’ve had a good teacher.”

“Not the best. I was fresh out of the Time War. Deeply wounded. I was trying to fix my mistakes but I also needed you to understand how I felt.”

“Hence the end of my world.”

“That was stupid.”

“But I understood. And I promised myself to never leave you.”

She held a hand out to him. He hesitated for a moment, just staring at her hand. Was it just an offer for peace or the beginning of an answer that would please him more? She noticed the time it was taking him to take a proper decision. It hurt but it was her words that had caused this. His now human heart must be aching.

“I don’t know why but… even if you were born from his hand, from his energy, the fact that you are wearing this face, the face you had when we first met, my mind is convinced that you’re just the same.”

“Part of me is. It came back with the face. When I… When I regenerated that day, I wanted to be better for you. Younger, cheerier, more open on my feelings. Guess I was wrong.”

“It was fun. At first. And then, I noticed little things. And Torchwood happened.”

“You came back.”

“The worlds were in danger.”

“We would all have been screwed without you. Was too busy having fun, me.”

“That’s it. Carelessly having fun, always wanting to impress your companions.”

“Donna was hard work.”

This was supposed to be a joke but remembering Donna was also an open door to remember that she would never recall any of this. Rose didn’t know but before the walls separating the parallel worlds definitely closed, he was still sharing a bond with the pretty boy, with the TARDIS, with Donna Noble and he had seen her mind being deprived from the best memories of her life, of her self-confidence. The Doctor Donna died to save the human Donna. Without her, he wouldn’t be here and she would never remember him or Rose or any of her adventures. He would remember it all for her.

“But she was… how were you saying back then? Oh, fantastic.”

He grinned, “She really is brilliant. How lucky are you to be stuck with a man who’s got half of her personality?”

“That is quite interesting at times. Especially when you’re cross and use that accent of hers.”

She chuckled. Here, in this universe, they couldn’t make a difference between one accent or another. What was a Northern England accent for them is actually a south Australian accent. So, the mix of Northern Gallifreyen and Chiswick accents was curious to them. They had never heard it before. They considered the Doctor as an alien, which was funny for her since he was partly alien.

“I wonder if there is a Donna Noble in this universe.”

“I’ve made my researches. There was one. She was an old lady. She sadly passed away before you came here. She was a fantastic storyteller and narrator.”

“What her stories were about?”

“You would be surprised.”

“Oh, come on.”

“She was writing about a mad man in a blue box travelling the universe and fixing what needed to be fixed.”

“Could it be that a version of her never made it back in time? No… That wouldn’t work. This world wouldn’t exist anymore. Earth would be gone. It has to be something else.”

“It’s another one of those mysteries you love so much and listen to this: her daughter said that just before she passed away, she has received the visit of a young blonde woman with a long white and blue coat who was calling herself the Doctor. She told Donna that all her stories were true and she thanked her for sharing these adventures, for sharing the hope to the younger ones.”

“That can’t be possible.”

“Why not?”

“Gallifrey doesn’t exist no more. Only Time Lords were enabling and controlling the access to parallel worlds. And I’ve never been a woman before. The Doctor has always been a male.”

“I wouldn’t mind meeting a female Doctor.”

“I have to admit that it would be a nice change but…

“I’d love you no matter the age, the face or the gender.”

This time, he took her hand and intertwined their fingers. He wasn’t totally convinced that she wouldn’t go back to the other Doctor if she was given the chance to. Their talk had strayed on subjects close to his question but not enough to give him a proper answer.

“But I’ll always have a preference for the Doctor with blue eyes, the first face he showed to me.”

“Which technically was the pretty boy’s face on January, 1st 2005.”

“I haven’t seen much of this face. You stayed in the shadows to be sure I wouldn’t. So you technically were the first one I’ve met.”

“And I’m fine with that idea.”

He gave her one of his daft full grin and got up from the chair. He disappeared in the house for a couple minutes and came back with the basket of fresh fruits. She watched him as he picked a mature banana and peeled it off. She burst out laughing when he took a first bite and immediately made a face of profound disgust before coughing out the bit of fruit that had dared sullying his superior taste buds.

“What the hell is that?”

“You haven’t let me the time to tell you: in this part of the country, they are specialised in peer-flavoured bananas. You can’t find any ‘normal’ bananas.”

“But that’s criminal!” he snarled.

“That’s a banana. It just has a different taste.”

“I hate peers!”

“I thought every Doctor has their personal likes and dislikes.”

“The hate for peers is common to all my incarnations, past and future.”

“So you won’t give it a chance.”

“I’d rather jump in that dirty water than eat this freak of nature!”

“Go on.”

“What?”

Rose pointed to the water they were sitting by and she reiterated her challenge. After all, that was all the game they were playing before the atmosphere became more serious. She had said truth, he had suggested the dare. If he wasn’t accepting now, she was winning, and he would never let her win so easily so he just stepped over the edge of the quay and jumped in the water. She gasped. Her alcohol must have been worse than she thought if she had believed he wouldn’t do it. He was the Doctor. He was proud. If you were daring him to do something, he would do it.

“How is the water?”

The Doctor resurfaced, rubbed his face and smiled at Rose. A happy idiot, she thought as he was splashing around, fully clothed. Whether the water was warm or cold, it wasn’t bothering him at all. The fact was he wasn’t wearing bathing trunks either. Thinking about it, she never saw him fully naked. He was always wearing pants and a T-shirt, even around her. She never forced him to. He was uncertain about his body. That was something she had gone through when she was younger, when she became a woman. But what could he have to hide? She could only fantasize about his body and respect his decision. He would do the same for her. She got a nice overview when he swam back to the edge and hauled himself over of the water to the only strength of his arms. It gave her an idea, and the smirk on her face didn’t mean anything good for him…

A suivre

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#doctor who #doctorroseprompts #ninth doctor #rose tyler #doctor x rose #dw fic #prompt fulfilment #the summertime of our lives

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