Time Lord Magnetism
Title: Time Lord Magnetism
Rating: K+
Word Count: 1644
Challenge: 17 - a church (story_lottery)
Notes: Based on a little bit of ridiculous, absurd, absolutely impossible fanon which I adore.
--
"Wilfred," the nurse said, knocking at his door. "You've got a visitor."
"Do I?" Wilf adjusted the angle of his bed, straightened his bathrobe, making himself presentable. "Let him in, then."
Maybe Donna was right about his eyes going, because Wilf couldn't quite see his visitor entirely. He got impressions - red hair, a bit short, odd sort of outfit - but nothing concrete. He couldn't really see his face.
"Hello, Wilf," the visitor said quietly, sadly.
"Hey," Wilf said. "Buck up. I'll be alright, it's only my kidneys. Donna and Shaun will take care of me, anyhow - they can pay for dialysis easy." He smiled, as widely and sincerely as he could.
"No, Wilf," the visitor said. "I'm afraid this is worse than that." He took the bed remote from Wilf and lowered the bed back down to a resting position. "I just wanted you to know - I was honored. Am honored, still. Always will be."
Wilf blinked sleepily. "Oh." He blinked again, giving in to the urge to close his eyes completely.
Lips pressed against his forehead. "Goodbye, old friend."
"Goodbye," Wilf echoed weakly, falling asleep.
--
Standing outside the church where Donna was getting married, watching a very tired, very ill, very sad Doctor hand Sylvia a lotto card like it was going to save Donna's life, Wilf wondered if now was the time. It certainly seemed like the Doctor wouldn't be coming back.
He nearly opened his mouth to speak, but saw her over the Doctor's shoulder.
She shook her head slowly.
He blinked, and she was gone.
And so, when the Doctor left, it was to a one-man salute, though he deserved so much more.
--
When the Doctor brought up that it was unusual for Wilf to have been able to find him so easily, Wilf wondered for a terrifying moment if the Doctor had figured it out. And if he had - what was Wilf supposed to say?
What could he say?
But then the Doctor just made a vague statement about fate, so, relieved, Wilf kept his mouth shut about it.
--
Donna had lost the best parts of herself. Now wasn't the time for anything else.
But he would find the Doctor again. He knew he would; he had to.
When she came back and as good as told him the Doctor was returning? Well, that was just confirmation of what he already knew, and of what he knew he had to do.
What he found, though, when he found the Doctor again, was not what he was expecting at all. He was expecting an alien savior, and got a man terrified of his mortality.
--
When Wilf said, "Oh, it's you!" when he caught sight of the Doctor, it was really a miracle he didn't sound more shocked. He didn't look at all like the Doctor he remembered, and if he was the alien she had told him about, then that meant -
That meant -
Oh dear, things were getting confusing.
--
"You're traveling with the who?" Wilf held the phone closer to his ear, sure he'd misheard. "The Doctor?"
"No, nothing's wrong with that - you go on having fun. I'll just tell your mother that you're traveling, alright?"
"Alright. Take care now."
He hung up.
The Doctor? Not the one he'd met during the war, surely? But, the way she talked, there was no doubt in Wilf's mind that it was him.
Oh dear.
--
Watching the people vanish right in front of his eyes, Wilf gaped. "You'd think," he said to himself, "that she would have mentioned he was an alien."
He stood up straight. "Wait a minute, if he's an alien, then - she's an alien too!" Feeling his hat starting to slip, he lifted a hand to steady it and looked up at the sky.
"Well. I've met an alien."
He considered that.
"Yahoo!" He jumped up and down a few times, cheering.
--
"Hello, Wilf," she said. Wilf turned to offer the woman a paper, only to gape. The face was different, but he knew that smile.
"Donna?" he asked. Her smile widened. "How - I thought you died, during the war!"
"In a way, I did," she said. Her smile faded, her expression solemn with a regretful nostalgia Wilf had seen before, at veterans meetings. "I was dragged, kicking and screaming, back home. We had a war of our own, a bit worse than yours."
"Worse than - Donna, what are you - ?"
"Oh, don't call me that," she said. "It doesn't suit me anymore. No name does, after what I did."
Wilf frowned. "Do - sweetheart, what happened?"
"I let our son become a killer." She turned her face to the sky. "And he'll never forgive himself for it, so neither can I."
"...our son?"
"He'll be here soon. Around Christmas, I should think. Take care of him, would you? I think I'm going to be pulled back again soon."
"I - " A thousand thoughts raced through Wilf's head. Just knowing that Do - that she was alive again was one thing, but that they had a son? And he would be here? Wilf leaned heavily against the front of his stand. This was all a bit much. "How will I know it's him?" he asked at last.
She smiled. "You'll know. He has a way of grabbing your attention."
A loud crash echoed from down the street; Wilf glanced at it for a second, then turned back to her.
She was gone.
"What the - " He fell against a stack of tabloids, peering around the corner of his stand. "Where did she go?"
No one nearby even remembered her being there.
--
"And here's Gramps!" the male nurse said, grinning as he showed Wilf into the room. Sylvia was lying on her bed, just looking at the pink swaddled baby. By the look in her eyes, Wilf already knew he would love his granddaughter. The nurse left with a grin and a wave, leaving three generations of the Mott family in the room.
"Look at her, dad," Sylvia said, holding out her daughter. Wilf's hands were trembling, but he remembered what Eileen had told him when she'd had Sylvia and made sure to support the newborn's head. "Isn't she beautiful?"
"That she is, sweetheart," he said, leaning over to kiss his daughter's sweaty forehead. "What name did you and Geoff pick for her?"
"Well, we thought..." Sylvia trailed off, picking at a loose thread in her hospital blanket.
"What is it, Sylvia?"
"I don't want you to be mad, Dad," she started.
Wilf laughed. "Uh oh, what did you do?"
Sylvia laughed, weakly, then ran a hand gently over her daughter's cheek. "We named her Donna."
Wilf stiffened. "Sweetheart..."
"I know," Sylvia interrupted, "but Mom told me about her, and I just - it's so sad, Dad. Your first love just disappeared."
"It was war," Wilf said. And that was that. "And I loved your mother."
"I know you did," Sylvia said. "But a part of you always loved Donna too. And now that they're both gone, Geoff and I thought, I don't know, maybe our Donna could be the new love of your life." She looked up at him uncertainly. "Is that out of line?"
Instead of answering, Wilf kissed his daughter and his granddaughter. "Thank you, sweetheart."
She smiled. "Sure, Dad."
--
Though Wilf's last flight was on a highly classified mission, and it was strongly suggested that he forget about everything he'd learned that day about how the world worked, Wilf never forgot.
The first day he was back from Pale - no, it was being called Israel now, wasn't it? Anyway, the first day he was back, he went out and bought himself a good quality telescope, and a book on how to use it.
He wouldn't be caught off guard the next time aliens tried to invade.
--
A short red-headed bloke gaped at Wilf, stuttering over his words.
"You're - you're - but that's - "
Wilf frowned. He turned to his girl. "Donna, d'you know this guy?"
She looked him over; the bloke stared back at her, equally shocked at her presence. "I think I've seen him once or twice before, yeah."
"Could you tell him to shove off?" Wilf asked. "They're shipping me out to Palestine in a week, and I'd like to spend some time with you before I leave." He chuckled. "If you know what I mean."
"Alright," she said, giggling gently. That was why he loved her, you know - that gorgeous laugh. She winked at the bloke cheekily. "You best be off now, doctor. This isn't a good time for you to be here."
Jaw still dropped, the apparent MD looked down at the table, and back up at Donna. He said, "Uh," "Right," and "Yeah," several times as he made his way out of the restaurant.
Wilf scooted closer to Donna. "That's better."
"Yes, it is." She smiled, and he couldn't help but kiss her. It was the other reason he loved her, that smile.
"Wilf," she said when he stopped. "I have some news. Great news, unbelievable news."
--
"Hello!" a cheery looking man said, shaking Wilf's hand. "Nice to meet you - Danny Boy, wasn't it?"
"That's me," Wilf said, watching his hand get pumped up and down crazily. "Off radio, I go by Mott. Wilfred Mott."
The man dropped his hand. "What?"
"I'm guessing you're the Doctor?" Wilf asked. He looked and acted eccentric enough to match the stories of stories Wilf has heard. Maybe he was an alien, like those robots whose ship he'd shot at not three hours ago.
The man blinked slowly. "What? Oh, yes, right, that's me! The Doctor." The Doctor grinned at Wilf, shaking his hand again. "It's a pleasure, Wilfred Mott."
"Same," Wilf said, extracting his hand from the Doctor's grip. "Though I thought you might be older."
"Oh, trust me," the Doctor laughed. "I am." He glanced over Wilf's shoulder, called out, "Winston! Wait up!" and raced off. Then, half-way to the Prime Minister, he turned around and said, "Say, Wilf, do yourself a favor."
"Alright," Wilf said, nonplussed.
"Switch to the Army. You won't get caught for being underage there."
"How did - ?"
"Come on," the Doctor scoffed, grinning at Wilf. He said, "I'm the Doctor," like it explained everything.
Maybe it did.
Rating: K+
Word Count: 1644
Challenge: 17 - a church (story_lottery)
Notes: Based on a little bit of ridiculous, absurd, absolutely impossible fanon which I adore.
--
"Wilfred," the nurse said, knocking at his door. "You've got a visitor."
"Do I?" Wilf adjusted the angle of his bed, straightened his bathrobe, making himself presentable. "Let him in, then."
Maybe Donna was right about his eyes going, because Wilf couldn't quite see his visitor entirely. He got impressions - red hair, a bit short, odd sort of outfit - but nothing concrete. He couldn't really see his face.
"Hello, Wilf," the visitor said quietly, sadly.
"Hey," Wilf said. "Buck up. I'll be alright, it's only my kidneys. Donna and Shaun will take care of me, anyhow - they can pay for dialysis easy." He smiled, as widely and sincerely as he could.
"No, Wilf," the visitor said. "I'm afraid this is worse than that." He took the bed remote from Wilf and lowered the bed back down to a resting position. "I just wanted you to know - I was honored. Am honored, still. Always will be."
Wilf blinked sleepily. "Oh." He blinked again, giving in to the urge to close his eyes completely.
Lips pressed against his forehead. "Goodbye, old friend."
"Goodbye," Wilf echoed weakly, falling asleep.
--
Standing outside the church where Donna was getting married, watching a very tired, very ill, very sad Doctor hand Sylvia a lotto card like it was going to save Donna's life, Wilf wondered if now was the time. It certainly seemed like the Doctor wouldn't be coming back.
He nearly opened his mouth to speak, but saw her over the Doctor's shoulder.
She shook her head slowly.
He blinked, and she was gone.
And so, when the Doctor left, it was to a one-man salute, though he deserved so much more.
--
When the Doctor brought up that it was unusual for Wilf to have been able to find him so easily, Wilf wondered for a terrifying moment if the Doctor had figured it out. And if he had - what was Wilf supposed to say?
What could he say?
But then the Doctor just made a vague statement about fate, so, relieved, Wilf kept his mouth shut about it.
--
Donna had lost the best parts of herself. Now wasn't the time for anything else.
But he would find the Doctor again. He knew he would; he had to.
When she came back and as good as told him the Doctor was returning? Well, that was just confirmation of what he already knew, and of what he knew he had to do.
What he found, though, when he found the Doctor again, was not what he was expecting at all. He was expecting an alien savior, and got a man terrified of his mortality.
--
When Wilf said, "Oh, it's you!" when he caught sight of the Doctor, it was really a miracle he didn't sound more shocked. He didn't look at all like the Doctor he remembered, and if he was the alien she had told him about, then that meant -
That meant -
Oh dear, things were getting confusing.
--
"You're traveling with the who?" Wilf held the phone closer to his ear, sure he'd misheard. "The Doctor?"
"No, nothing's wrong with that - you go on having fun. I'll just tell your mother that you're traveling, alright?"
"Alright. Take care now."
He hung up.
The Doctor? Not the one he'd met during the war, surely? But, the way she talked, there was no doubt in Wilf's mind that it was him.
Oh dear.
--
Watching the people vanish right in front of his eyes, Wilf gaped. "You'd think," he said to himself, "that she would have mentioned he was an alien."
He stood up straight. "Wait a minute, if he's an alien, then - she's an alien too!" Feeling his hat starting to slip, he lifted a hand to steady it and looked up at the sky.
"Well. I've met an alien."
He considered that.
"Yahoo!" He jumped up and down a few times, cheering.
--
"Hello, Wilf," she said. Wilf turned to offer the woman a paper, only to gape. The face was different, but he knew that smile.
"Donna?" he asked. Her smile widened. "How - I thought you died, during the war!"
"In a way, I did," she said. Her smile faded, her expression solemn with a regretful nostalgia Wilf had seen before, at veterans meetings. "I was dragged, kicking and screaming, back home. We had a war of our own, a bit worse than yours."
"Worse than - Donna, what are you - ?"
"Oh, don't call me that," she said. "It doesn't suit me anymore. No name does, after what I did."
Wilf frowned. "Do - sweetheart, what happened?"
"I let our son become a killer." She turned her face to the sky. "And he'll never forgive himself for it, so neither can I."
"...our son?"
"He'll be here soon. Around Christmas, I should think. Take care of him, would you? I think I'm going to be pulled back again soon."
"I - " A thousand thoughts raced through Wilf's head. Just knowing that Do - that she was alive again was one thing, but that they had a son? And he would be here? Wilf leaned heavily against the front of his stand. This was all a bit much. "How will I know it's him?" he asked at last.
She smiled. "You'll know. He has a way of grabbing your attention."
A loud crash echoed from down the street; Wilf glanced at it for a second, then turned back to her.
She was gone.
"What the - " He fell against a stack of tabloids, peering around the corner of his stand. "Where did she go?"
No one nearby even remembered her being there.
--
"And here's Gramps!" the male nurse said, grinning as he showed Wilf into the room. Sylvia was lying on her bed, just looking at the pink swaddled baby. By the look in her eyes, Wilf already knew he would love his granddaughter. The nurse left with a grin and a wave, leaving three generations of the Mott family in the room.
"Look at her, dad," Sylvia said, holding out her daughter. Wilf's hands were trembling, but he remembered what Eileen had told him when she'd had Sylvia and made sure to support the newborn's head. "Isn't she beautiful?"
"That she is, sweetheart," he said, leaning over to kiss his daughter's sweaty forehead. "What name did you and Geoff pick for her?"
"Well, we thought..." Sylvia trailed off, picking at a loose thread in her hospital blanket.
"What is it, Sylvia?"
"I don't want you to be mad, Dad," she started.
Wilf laughed. "Uh oh, what did you do?"
Sylvia laughed, weakly, then ran a hand gently over her daughter's cheek. "We named her Donna."
Wilf stiffened. "Sweetheart..."
"I know," Sylvia interrupted, "but Mom told me about her, and I just - it's so sad, Dad. Your first love just disappeared."
"It was war," Wilf said. And that was that. "And I loved your mother."
"I know you did," Sylvia said. "But a part of you always loved Donna too. And now that they're both gone, Geoff and I thought, I don't know, maybe our Donna could be the new love of your life." She looked up at him uncertainly. "Is that out of line?"
Instead of answering, Wilf kissed his daughter and his granddaughter. "Thank you, sweetheart."
She smiled. "Sure, Dad."
--
Though Wilf's last flight was on a highly classified mission, and it was strongly suggested that he forget about everything he'd learned that day about how the world worked, Wilf never forgot.
The first day he was back from Pale - no, it was being called Israel now, wasn't it? Anyway, the first day he was back, he went out and bought himself a good quality telescope, and a book on how to use it.
He wouldn't be caught off guard the next time aliens tried to invade.
--
A short red-headed bloke gaped at Wilf, stuttering over his words.
"You're - you're - but that's - "
Wilf frowned. He turned to his girl. "Donna, d'you know this guy?"
She looked him over; the bloke stared back at her, equally shocked at her presence. "I think I've seen him once or twice before, yeah."
"Could you tell him to shove off?" Wilf asked. "They're shipping me out to Palestine in a week, and I'd like to spend some time with you before I leave." He chuckled. "If you know what I mean."
"Alright," she said, giggling gently. That was why he loved her, you know - that gorgeous laugh. She winked at the bloke cheekily. "You best be off now, doctor. This isn't a good time for you to be here."
Jaw still dropped, the apparent MD looked down at the table, and back up at Donna. He said, "Uh," "Right," and "Yeah," several times as he made his way out of the restaurant.
Wilf scooted closer to Donna. "That's better."
"Yes, it is." She smiled, and he couldn't help but kiss her. It was the other reason he loved her, that smile.
"Wilf," she said when he stopped. "I have some news. Great news, unbelievable news."
--
"Hello!" a cheery looking man said, shaking Wilf's hand. "Nice to meet you - Danny Boy, wasn't it?"
"That's me," Wilf said, watching his hand get pumped up and down crazily. "Off radio, I go by Mott. Wilfred Mott."
The man dropped his hand. "What?"
"I'm guessing you're the Doctor?" Wilf asked. He looked and acted eccentric enough to match the stories of stories Wilf has heard. Maybe he was an alien, like those robots whose ship he'd shot at not three hours ago.
The man blinked slowly. "What? Oh, yes, right, that's me! The Doctor." The Doctor grinned at Wilf, shaking his hand again. "It's a pleasure, Wilfred Mott."
"Same," Wilf said, extracting his hand from the Doctor's grip. "Though I thought you might be older."
"Oh, trust me," the Doctor laughed. "I am." He glanced over Wilf's shoulder, called out, "Winston! Wait up!" and raced off. Then, half-way to the Prime Minister, he turned around and said, "Say, Wilf, do yourself a favor."
"Alright," Wilf said, nonplussed.
"Switch to the Army. You won't get caught for being underage there."
"How did - ?"
"Come on," the Doctor scoffed, grinning at Wilf. He said, "I'm the Doctor," like it explained everything.
Maybe it did.