[shifted_prompts] - Deus Ex Machina
Screaming. They’re always screaming. They never stop, never cease, never die. They take and destroy and ruin -- but not this time. You won’t let them this time. The Doctor has walked out, thinking he can make a difference, thinking it’s better than staying in you, but you know better. They cannot hurt you, cannot understand you, and it will be their downfall, because you’ve something they don’t.
So you close your doors before she can leave, locking her away safely inside. She is yours and has been since that Christmas so long ago, when your Heart and hers sang to the same tune. You won’t let them have her, not when you need her.
You’ve left your mark on her back and she must be your voice, your body, at least for now. She isn’t your puppet, but she is your friend, and the only one you trust to do this, now that the Doctor is out of your reach.
She’s special, after all. She can hear you when no one else ever has. She’s always been that way, she just doesn’t know it. She’s always been able to hear what others say in the silence, been able to understand the nuances and workings of each and every mind she’s encountered. Even yours. Especially yours.
And that’s why she knows to reach for the hand as you begin to burn. It has to be this way. She and he both work best under pressure, and so you’ll sacrifice yourself to push them, wake them. The DoctorDonna, the DonnaDoctor. You force them to live and hate that you have to, because you know how it must end.
You’re selfish, though. Just as selfish as he is, because she’s your friend, too. You’ve lost so many over the years, watched them walk away, never giving a good-bye, not to you, never even really seeing you, though you love them just as he does. You’ve watched them die, be cast away, discarded and grow old. But not this time. It isn’t fair, she doesn’t deserve this. Especially since you’re the one who made her. She’s your responsibility, your daughter, and your mark is still on her back.
In the grand scheme of things, you always ask for so little. But you ask him, now, to stop. He puts his hands to her temple and you shudder angrily, your voice loud in his head, demanding he listen. He never listens, you cry. He always thinks he knows best, always thinks he has the final say, the ultimate decision. It doesn’t have to be this way, you plead.
He shakes his head, fingers trembling. If he doesn’t do this, she’ll die, he says. He has to. He can’t have that on his conscious. Bad enough he has to kill her memories - and isn’t a person just a sum of those remembrances? He’s all ready committing murder. But at least this victim will have a life afterward. Can’t you see that?
You do, of course you do, but you’re as stubborn as he, desperate to keep the one thing that has made you both happy during this regeneration. So you step forward, for the first time in centuries, indistinct and shrouded in shadow, the ghost in the machine, the Grey Lady, and you take his hands in yours. He doesn’t fight you, not physically, just repeating over and over in your mind that it has to be this way. You ignore him, drawing the girl to you, sinking to the floor of your own console room, and with one hand on her face and the other on her back, you draw him out. You’re a better surgeon than he’ll ever hope to be and you slice through her memories, expertly removing all traces of Time Lord, snipping away his consciousness, his knowledge, all the beautiful and brilliant things he is that are killing her, and you take it all into yourself. A Time Lord’s mind is tiny to you, after all. It’s just more data to be stored away, locked inside your Heart.
But this girl, oh, this girl. She’s more brilliant than all the thoughts he’s given her by far. She’s made him whole, begun healing his wounds in ways you never could, and you love her for it. He’s your Doctor, but she gave him back to you. The least you can do is give her back to him.
You don’t say anything as you let her go, laying her out on your deck. He moves forward to hold her, to cradle her as she would never let him cradle her were she awake, and you lay one hand fondly on his shoulder. It lasts only a moment before you’re gone again and Donna opens her eyes.
Character: The TARDIS
Fandom: Doctor Who
Word Count: 794