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raz-writes-the-thing · 6 months

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Nothing At All (Doctor Who One-Shot)

Tenth Doctor x GN!Reader / requests are open and encouraged!

Summary: Your feelings for the Doctor are outed, and you're pretty sure he doesn't feel the same way. Thank God you're wrong, eh?

CW: angst, pining, canon typical peril, small amount of fluff, fluffy-ish

Doctor Who tag list: @nyxiethesimp @quickslvxrr (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

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“The mortal is exhibiting signals of elation and relief in the presence of our enemy,” the alien cyborg said robotically. You let out a frustrated puff of air. Of course, you felt relieved to see him. He was here to (presumably and hopefully) save you from their disturbing clutches. “Subject exhibiting pupillary dilation and increased blood flow to the chest, ears and face.”

You groaned, eyes widening slightly at the implications of just what this cyborg was stumbling into finding out.

These particular cyborgs had taken you hostage to study. They’d never seen a human before and supposedly this meant that they just had to have you. They needed to know everything under the sun, apparently.

The Doctor grinned and you pressed your hand up towards the glass as if to reach him through it. It was thick and sterile and there was a cool mist spraying down onto you from above- no doubt with some sterilising agent in it as well. Liked their shit clean, these cyborgs did.

“Right then,” the Doctor said, practically bouncing on the balls of his feet, sonic clutched behind his back. “I think you’d better let my friend go, don’t you?”

The cyborg’s metallic head stared vacantly at the Doctor before it whirred and clicked to focus on you.

“The subject displays a rise in heart rate upon making visual contact with the enemy.”

Your eyes flit to the Doctor, who is doing his best not to make eye contact with you. You’re starting to piece together just what the cyborg is currently monitoring.

The Doctor clicks his tongue, whipping the Sonic from behind his back and scanning the lock on your glass door. The door opens with a ‘shhhhhk,’ as the gas leaks out around the framing.

You spring into action, darting past the canister-like tube that you’d been held in and running for the Doctor’s hand. You took it with a squeeze and the Doctor shot a beam at the cyborg, who’d started towards you.

“Emotion identified,” the cyborg said, robotic voice slowing as the Sonic did its thing. “Human emotion… named… love…”

You groaned, flushing deep red as the Doctor grabbed you by the shoulder and pushed you forward, urging you towards wherever it was he’d parked the TARDIS. You didn’t even want to look at him. This was it. This was how you died. You almost wished the cyborg had killed you right then and there to save yourself from the misery of it all.

You’d not wanted the Doctor to find out about your little crush this way. In fact, there were about a million other ways you would have preferred he found out.

You ran in whichever direction the Doctor told you, not daring to look behind you for fear of his expression, yes, but also for fear of seeing several angry cyborgs charging up their face lasers or something to smite you down with.

Then, at the end of the corridor, you saw the TARDIS. She was parked half in the shadows and a cyborg was scanning it. The Doctor grunted as you both pelted it towards the blue box. You heard the telltale sound of the Sonic as he aimed it over your shoulder and fired it at the cyborg, most likely disabling the laser. It wasn’t as though the cyborg would have been able to garner much information from scanning it anyway, of course. The TARDIS had natural defences against that sort of thing, but it was the principle of the thing.

The cyborg shut down as you narrowly escaped running face-first into its arm. With a shriek, you bolted inside the TARDIS doors, trying to avoid toppling up the stairs and breaking a bone in the process.

The Doctor was hot on your heels, skidding to a stop to close the doors behind you both and lean back against it, skin flush with sweat and adrenaline. He panted, hands on his knees.

It was only a minute before he was back on his feet, trying desperately to catch his breath but so rejuvenated by the narrow escape that he was bursting with energy. You were not in a similar boat. You were doing your best to just not collapse onto the floor from fear and exhaustion.

Your cheeks were ruddy red, and sweat was beading in your hairline. You groaned irritably, desperately needing some water or a very, very long shower. And as you slowly started to bring yourself back down and your breathing started to even out, you remembered what the cyborg had said.

“Oh, wasn’t that exciting?!” The Doctor practically yelled, energy bouncing off him in spades. “Cyborgs- brand new cyborgs sent to catalogue anything and everything! Bit of a job, but I s’pose that’s why they sent cyborgs. Not going to degenerate too fast. Oh, and their inter-cranial wiring- I mean, did you see that? Gorgeous!”

You were vaguely listening, in the very back of your brain. Hearing the words? Yes, but actually listening to what he was saying? Not so much, no. You wanted to curl up into a ball and just… roll away out of sight so you could avoid the Doctor forever. The TARDIS was basically never-ending. You could hide out there for the rest of your life, right? It would take him forever to find you if you kept moving from room to room.

“-Hello? Are you hearing me?”

“What?”

The Doctor pouted, eyebrows drawn down in concern.

“Are you alright?”

Were you alright? Were you alright? No, you were not alright. You were in love with the Doctor, and he’d avoided eye contact upon hearing that particular little factoid, which made you feel just so amazing about the whole thing.

“Me? Never better,” you replied with a tight smile, swallowing thickly, throat dry.

“Oh,” the Doctor said, nodding like he was trying to make himself believe it but knowing better. “Are you sure? I mean, that wasn’t all that convincing, really.” The Doctor scratched at the back of his head. You rubbed a hand down your face irritably and sighed.

“Not really,” you finally admitted. “No.”

The Doctor stepped forward, putting the Sonic away in his pocket. He put both his hands on your shoulders and gave you a very sincere look of genuine concern.

“What’s wrong?”

“Besides the fact that you can’t even stand to look at me?”

The Doctor flounders for a moment, dropping his hands from you. You regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth. The Doctor, your poor un-offendable Doctor, looks hurt. You’ve hurt him.

“Shit- I-”

“Is that really what you think?” His voice sounds small and tinny in a way that unnerves you. You step forward, a small shuffle of a step, only for him to take one back. Ow, it feels like a fist has been rammed right through your gut and out the other side. Only that’s not what’s happened, and you’re not going to drop dead from having a hole torn right through you to avoid having to replay that memory in your head for the next thirty years.

That flash of hurt on his face is gone the next, and it’s replaced by something that- if you’re not mistaken- almost looks angry.

“No, is that really what you think?”

It’s your turn to flounder now, hand hovering in the air toward him like a phantom. You’re not even convinced it’s your hand anymore. What was happening, and why was it happening?

“I- n-no,” your voice wavered, unsure. “It’s just- when the cyborg- and you- I-” Your hands went to your head, and you forced yourself to breathe. The Doctor was fighting with himself on whether to rush forward to comfort you or remain in his protective defensive bubble.

In and out. Once more. Okay, you were a little calmer now, your breathing evening out. With great care, you said, “You couldn’t look at me. When the cyborg told you… how I feel. I thought-” you broke off, tears springing up at the thought. “You might be done with me now that you know. That you might take be back home.”

“Take you home?!”

You jump at the volume of his response, eyes managing to meet his in defiance of all odds.

“No, I’m not going to take you home. I- I didn’t want to let on I felt the same, because, well- they were calling me the enemy, and I didn’t need them thinking I had a weak spot for you. I mean, what would I do if you were gone? Cease to exist, cease to function.” The Doctor barely stopped for a breath. “Who else is going to call me out on my mismatched shoes, or- make sure I eat all the broccoli on my plate? Yuck, hate broccoli. Really, there’s no one else for me, I-” he breaks off so suddenly it’s almost jarring.

“What?”

“You feel the same?”

The Doctor blinks, clearly jolted out of his train of thought.

“Course I do! You’re- well, you’re you! Look at you, how could I not?”

In those three seconds all of your fear, anxiety, embarrassment, anger, it all fades away, and you know everything is going to be alright. You’ll be alright, and so will he. You’ll be alright together, and what else did you need if you had each other?

Nothing at all.

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