The EverRegenerating Story, for Who at 50 and Who Contest
Title: The EverRegenerating Story
Rating: G
Fandom: Doctor Who/The NeverEnding Story fusion
Characters/pairings:[Click to read story spoilers]Tenth Doctor, Donna, Rose
Warnings (including spoilers): Spoilers for The NeverEnding Story and also for Turn Left, Journey’s End/Stolen Earth, vaguely for Utopia.
Wordcount: 769 words
Author’s Note: Written for the Flash-Ficathon at who-at-50 (for which it can be found here) for the Tenth Doctor and the prompt ‘Flight,’ which was supposed to include more flying before I figured out what ‘Flash Fiction’ actually means. So, sorry about that. Also written for who-contest’s prompt ‘Black.’
Summary: AU. The stars are going out; the universe needs a hero to fight an evil beyond imagination.
[*]
The house shakes like an earthquake is hitting-and one is. An Earth-quake, a time-quake, an everything-quake. The Time Lord mutters to himself in multi-dimensional temporal equations, thinking, pacing. “-but it doesn’t do any good, never good enough, can never save everyone and this time we can’t save any-”
“Oi, Space Boy, will you sit down! I’ve got a headache and you’re making it worse!”
The Time Lord forces his heartsbeat to slow and manages to sit in the armchair beside the couch where his Companion rests. The house shakes again, the empty house, and her eyes screw shut.
“It’s getting closer,” she murmurs. One of his hands flutters to her temple, brushing back her dark red hair, and in her mind-ripped wide by Time, by him-he can see the Darkness rushing toward them, consuming the stars, swallowing civilizations and feeding on their despair.
“Where is she?” he whispers, looking outside. He left the back door open and every few minutes he leaves his Companion to look in her grandfather’s telescope, scanning the sky to see how many stars are left. Wilf would’ve done it himself, but Earth has been evacuated; the population are all in ships headed for Utopia, the last stronghold against the Darkness.
The sky is blue, a hot, humid summer day as though the Earth’s sun were not one of the very last in the universe. On his Companion’s forehead, sweat beads and he wipes it away tenderly. “Do you want some water?”
“She’s coming,” the Companion whispers instead. Her eyes are open now, but instead of cool green they are burning gold, gold the color of Time. “The Wolf is almost here.”
Thunder crashes; the Time Lord looks outside and the blue sky has disappeared as though color itself has been swallowed. Inky blue twists high above with flashes of lighting and eerie deep purple. In a blink, the only lights are the stabs of forked spacetime and the gold of his Companion’s eyes.
The Time Lord leaps to his feet and races for the telescope. Through it he can see the seams of the Universe as they are pulled and pulled and ripped from the fabric of reality, can see the waveforms of life and time collapsing, dragged toward the Darkness like an endless pit of sand. He gasps as he looks toward the sun and sees it burning dark, the black of death and the thick red of diseased blood. “Where is she?” he cries, and from the doorway his Companion answers, “Here!”-the word torn from her throat as a guttural shout, and the sky opens up above them.
The sound of the rift echoes through the dimensions and the Time Lord collapses to the ground. His Companion remains standing, white robes billowing around her from the wind, and her eyes shine with the same light that is blazing through the tear. “The Bad Wolf is here!” she shouts.
Surrounded by an explosion of gold, a blue box flies between the universes. The Time Lord forces himself to watch as the immense light is sucked up into the sky and the edges of the rift are pulled after it.
The blue box lands, spinning to a stop beside the telescope. The gold light remains on one of its faces until a figure lets go and falls to the ground. As she gasps and shakes, the light disappears into her skin.
The Time Lord runs to her and helps her stand up against the heavy winds. The telescope leaves the ground and nearly hits them. Down the street mailboxes fly upwards, gravity no match for the pull of the Darkness. Cars shake and begin to rise, the ground rumbles, and everything else begins to leave the Earth.
“Help us!” The Time Lord shouts to be heard. The Wolf looks terrified, staring up at the ever-approaching Darkness.
“I don’t know how!” she cries, blonde hair flying into her face.
The Time Lord’s Companion stumbles and the Wolf helps him catch her before she falls. “What do I do?” the Wolf begs.
The Companion’s eyes flare, and when she speaks, her voice is layered with power, wisdom, eternity. “Give us a name.”
The Wolf gasps. “What? How can I?”
“You know it already!” The Time Lord holds her gaze. “You know what we are!”
“Name us!” The Companion’s voice rises as the Darkness gapes above them. “It’s the only way to save everything!”
The Wolf pulls away from them and turns to the storm. She stands against the Darkness, raises her face and screams.
“DoctorDonna!”
Rating: G
Fandom: Doctor Who/The NeverEnding Story fusion
Characters/pairings:[Click to read story spoilers]Tenth Doctor, Donna, Rose
Warnings (including spoilers): Spoilers for The NeverEnding Story and also for Turn Left, Journey’s End/Stolen Earth, vaguely for Utopia.
Wordcount: 769 words
Author’s Note: Written for the Flash-Ficathon at who-at-50 (for which it can be found here) for the Tenth Doctor and the prompt ‘Flight,’ which was supposed to include more flying before I figured out what ‘Flash Fiction’ actually means. So, sorry about that. Also written for who-contest’s prompt ‘Black.’
Summary: AU. The stars are going out; the universe needs a hero to fight an evil beyond imagination.
[*]
The house shakes like an earthquake is hitting-and one is. An Earth-quake, a time-quake, an everything-quake. The Time Lord mutters to himself in multi-dimensional temporal equations, thinking, pacing. “-but it doesn’t do any good, never good enough, can never save everyone and this time we can’t save any-”
“Oi, Space Boy, will you sit down! I’ve got a headache and you’re making it worse!”
The Time Lord forces his heartsbeat to slow and manages to sit in the armchair beside the couch where his Companion rests. The house shakes again, the empty house, and her eyes screw shut.
“It’s getting closer,” she murmurs. One of his hands flutters to her temple, brushing back her dark red hair, and in her mind-ripped wide by Time, by him-he can see the Darkness rushing toward them, consuming the stars, swallowing civilizations and feeding on their despair.
“Where is she?” he whispers, looking outside. He left the back door open and every few minutes he leaves his Companion to look in her grandfather’s telescope, scanning the sky to see how many stars are left. Wilf would’ve done it himself, but Earth has been evacuated; the population are all in ships headed for Utopia, the last stronghold against the Darkness.
The sky is blue, a hot, humid summer day as though the Earth’s sun were not one of the very last in the universe. On his Companion’s forehead, sweat beads and he wipes it away tenderly. “Do you want some water?”
“She’s coming,” the Companion whispers instead. Her eyes are open now, but instead of cool green they are burning gold, gold the color of Time. “The Wolf is almost here.”
Thunder crashes; the Time Lord looks outside and the blue sky has disappeared as though color itself has been swallowed. Inky blue twists high above with flashes of lighting and eerie deep purple. In a blink, the only lights are the stabs of forked spacetime and the gold of his Companion’s eyes.
The Time Lord leaps to his feet and races for the telescope. Through it he can see the seams of the Universe as they are pulled and pulled and ripped from the fabric of reality, can see the waveforms of life and time collapsing, dragged toward the Darkness like an endless pit of sand. He gasps as he looks toward the sun and sees it burning dark, the black of death and the thick red of diseased blood. “Where is she?” he cries, and from the doorway his Companion answers, “Here!”-the word torn from her throat as a guttural shout, and the sky opens up above them.
The sound of the rift echoes through the dimensions and the Time Lord collapses to the ground. His Companion remains standing, white robes billowing around her from the wind, and her eyes shine with the same light that is blazing through the tear. “The Bad Wolf is here!” she shouts.
Surrounded by an explosion of gold, a blue box flies between the universes. The Time Lord forces himself to watch as the immense light is sucked up into the sky and the edges of the rift are pulled after it.
The blue box lands, spinning to a stop beside the telescope. The gold light remains on one of its faces until a figure lets go and falls to the ground. As she gasps and shakes, the light disappears into her skin.
The Time Lord runs to her and helps her stand up against the heavy winds. The telescope leaves the ground and nearly hits them. Down the street mailboxes fly upwards, gravity no match for the pull of the Darkness. Cars shake and begin to rise, the ground rumbles, and everything else begins to leave the Earth.
“Help us!” The Time Lord shouts to be heard. The Wolf looks terrified, staring up at the ever-approaching Darkness.
“I don’t know how!” she cries, blonde hair flying into her face.
The Time Lord’s Companion stumbles and the Wolf helps him catch her before she falls. “What do I do?” the Wolf begs.
The Companion’s eyes flare, and when she speaks, her voice is layered with power, wisdom, eternity. “Give us a name.”
The Wolf gasps. “What? How can I?”
“You know it already!” The Time Lord holds her gaze. “You know what we are!”
“Name us!” The Companion’s voice rises as the Darkness gapes above them. “It’s the only way to save everything!”
The Wolf pulls away from them and turns to the storm. She stands against the Darkness, raises her face and screams.
“DoctorDonna!”