and what rough beast, its hour come round at last

[thedreamer]

WHO: The Doctor | Merrin | & Friends
WHEN: Halfway through The Siege of Alem
WHERE: Various places
WHAT: Possession/hauntings, untold horrors, not a good time
WARNINGS: Discussions of death, potential murder, assault, will update as needed


[ Closed starters below. Comment here if you'd like to plot anything specific! ]

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[thedreamer]

[ The shift in the Doctor's mind is abrupt and disconcerting, able to feel the moment the paladin eases its grip and influence on his thoughts. The blood it sought, the hatred it felt, all of it disappears in a single moment, though there's no sense of relief at all. From vengeance to fear now, the Doctor's own mind turns in an instant as he focuses on Vanessa, the way he'd hurt her, and the fact that she's helped him now to kill one of the winged creatures.

He feels his hearts pounding as he advances quickly closer, nearly breathless when he speaks, the adrenaline gradually waning. ]

Vanessa. Were you—

[ There's so much to sort through and think about, not least of which the dead thing at their feet. But all that he cares about for the moment is if she's okay; the memory of her roughly being thrown against the stone wall by his own hands makes his stomach turn over.

Covered in the harpy's blood, at a first glance, he can't immediately tell how badly injured she is, but he rests a hand on her back, trying to coax her to look at him, while his other hand moves to cradle her face. ]

[matermali]

[ Something passes through. Away. She can feel it, but she can't know its fate. She has no time for pity; she's too stricken by the stream of panic that's led to her now recovering from a momentary blood-lust. What's unsettling is that she isn't unsettled. Not by that.

Ethan had warned her.

She doesn't flinch from the touch, instead releasing her knife so she can immediately grab for the Doctor once she understands it's truly him. Understanding fills her, even as she knows the battle isn't completely over. She already knows what is likely to follow, and she tries to hold him closer all the more for it, as if still frightened she'll lose him. ]

I'm here. You are here. Nothing matters more than that.

[ She clutches at his hand, then tries to stand to better look at where she had earlier hurt him. He worries if she's injured even as he bleeds from a strike to the head. She would muse at the pair they make if she had the time, but there's no time. Already someone is shouting about hauling the dead harpy out of the window to clear a path while trying to shove past them.

Needless to say, Vanessa's balance isn't going to hold well on the stairs at the moment, and she's still reeling from the adrenaline rush of the last several minutes, so all she can think to do is throw her arms around the Doctor and hold him tight. ]

[thedreamer]

[ Enfolding her in his arms is the most natural and necessary thing in the world right now, and as he clings to her in return, one hand comes to rest lightly against her back. He notices a few things immediately; the cadence of her beating heart, the weight of her against his chest, the bliss of breathing her in as she presses closer in return. ]

I hurt you. More than once.

[ There's a steadiness to his voice, yet it will likely sound distant, even removed somewhat from where he is right now. He's here, but not; so far away and far ahead, already running towards a moment away from her where he isn't near enough to hurt her again. ]

[matermali]

Not you. It wasn't you.

[ Even predicting that he might pull away, that guilt might seize him as it has so often her after a possession, Vanessa's heart is so tight it may stop beating for how she hurts for him. Dizziness keeps her from pulling too far back, afraid she might topple down the stairs, but she still leans to peer up at the cut on his head, clutching tightly at the back of his neck.

Men rush past them, some lingering to grunt under the weight of the corpse before it can be rolled back out the broken window. They're shouting something at Vanessa and the Doctor, the sounds of battle rages outside, but it's white noise to her. When having a singular focus, she has always walked through battlefields as one would a cemetery.

Her voice sounds lighter than it ever has, but she won't let herself drift away. He's here, he's alive, and he wasn't the one to land the final blow. Any other concerns he has, she must find a way to soothe. If anyone can understand...

The Doctor needs to know how much she understands. She needs to think...through the stabbing pain in the back of her skull. Even that she can't complain over... After all, he's the one bleeding. ]

I can help. [ If only he would stop refusing her. ] Let me help.

[thedreamer]

[ His guilt is all-consuming, it always has been, though in this precise moment, it's tempered by the sight of Vanessa covered in the harpy's blood and barely steady. He worries desperately over the head injury he'd surely inflicted, and for a moment as his eyes flicker with concern across her blood-splattered face, he runs his fingers lightly through her hair; touching her to grasp the extent of her injuries, needing to know she's safe...or not.

A moment later, assured that she isn't bleeding internally from a cracked skull, the Doctor's lips briefly press to her forehead, eyes closing as he considers her words. ]

I chose this, I allowed that thing in my mind. I don't want your mercy or pity.

[ His words, though harsh, are accompanied by a tender touch as he strokes his thumb across her temple. A battle continues to rage around them, the screams of terror unending, and Vanessa remains his anchor amidst a sea of terrible memories made all the more potent by what's just happened here between them. ]

[matermali]

[ In any other setting, her temper might flare at such an insult. So often her empathy is mistaken for pity by those who don't know better, but the Doctor should know that Vanessa could never love someone as an equal if she pitied them. But he can't be expected to be entirely himself, not when his very core has been shaken. She can recall when he told her of another time he may have experienced something similar, how he still thinks of the woman without a name.

He knows Vanessa's name, and he should know her and that she can help in a way nobody else can. For that, she doesn't need to sacrifice her life, only her shame. Easier said than done. ]

Then you will receive neither. But you cannot deny my love.

[ Her grip behind his neck tightens slightly, pinching at the nape, before sliding down to rest against his chest. She hangs her head with a flinch, resting it against his shoulder. ]

That would be the only way in which you could hurt me. What are bruises on my flesh, so long as you stay near my heart? Let me—

[ Oh, a dizzy spell. Only momentary, enough for her grip to tighten again and her to cast a nervous glance to the side. They must leave the staircase, least of all because she can't help him with people constantly rushing past them. ]

[thedreamer]

[ He remembers their fight in the desert, their equally matched tempers, the push and pull of their intense and mutually shared love, the fierceness of wanting to have and protect the other. They're drawn to one another in ways that only they could understand and he remembers himself a moment after saying the words; she wanted a better god by her side, not a man who would think she'd want to or ever be willing to pity him. ]

I won't—

[ But then she falters, gripping at him, and all of his self-loathing immediately ceases in light of his worry for her. He holds her carefully against him, moving to lift her now, not even allowing her the chance to protest before attempting to carry her. ]

Don't argue with me.

[matermali]

[ For once, she doesn't.

Her hold around his neck is tight, needing to feel the reassurance of how he holds her. It's him again, and it will remain as such. Still, as her gaze passes over the bowtie on his collar, there is a pit in her stomach.

Why had he made such a choice? Why had he made such a choice with her right there?

Her swallow is dry while she strains to look to where he might take them. It would be laughable to take her to a medic, as she can only assume they're rather occupied. If anyone needs to be looked after, it's him and his head injury, but she doesn't know if she could trust her hand to be steady enough for stitching just yet. Something about how she hit her head has certainly left her off-kilter, but she just needs a bit of time to shake it away. She's suffered worse. ]

Away from them.

[ Her words are barely a mutter, so he may not hear her. Them. The people, the noise, the tragedy that has nothing to do with her once she's away from here. For now, forever, his is the only tragedy she needs to love; even when it cuts her down.

Privacy isn't easy to come by, but it's possible with some tenacity and a sharp eye. Some corner, some emptied storage space somewhere must be abandoned. So long as he doesn't return to the Gut's Bind... It wouldn't be wise. ]

[thedreamer]

[ He won't be returning there anytime soon. Inevitably, his curiosity will draw him back, he won't be able to help it. But for the moment at least, even his instinct to run far away from her is stymied due to his worry over the injury she's suffered.

By his own hand, he reminds himself.

Soft though her words are, the Doctor hears her—he would always hear her—and carefully navigates through the crowd with Vanessa safely and securely tucked against his chest. He can hardly think amidst the throng of soldiers, but at least they're all distracted enough now to forget his earlier insubordination, and they manage their way back to the barracks. The accommodations are dreadful, of course, but the Doctor is gentle as he moves to lay Vanessa down on a hard pallet. Borrowing a discarded blanket from the adjacent 'bed,' the Doctor bundles it up and slips it beneath her head to make her more comfortable.

And now, for the moment, he's strictly focused on her. ]

Look at my eyes.

[ He's checking her pupil dilation, reflectivity, further ascertaining the extent of injury. ]

Tell me how you feel.

[matermali]

[ The sleeping quarters aren't ideal for privacy, but at least at the moment, many seem to be away tending to their duties. Still feeling a bit hazy through her headache, Vanessa is impatient through his attempt to turn her into a patient.

She understands, of course. He needs reassurance. But if she's honest, then he won't be reassured, and nothing will get accomplished. Beneath her long sleeves, her wrists burn a bit. Underneath her collar, her neck is still sore, and she doesn't know if it will bruise but if so, she's had so much worse. Her head hurts, and she knows that's why she keeps getting dizzy spells, and why she feels a bit sluggish.

And what would knowing any of that do?

She sits up, though pausing to take it slower when the act brings on a spell of nausea. With eyes narrowed, from fear more than anger, Vanessa reaches for his hand to stop his check-up. She holds it to her breast, gentle enough that he can pull away if he wishes, but earnest in how she clasps it against the blood-stained blouse. Vanessa pleads with her touch. Don't leave me behind. ]

Terrified.

[ It keeps her from lying, as she sidesteps and reminds him of what really matters here. Physical injuries will recover no matter what, she always manages. But the emotional toll? On him? On her. How can she...? ]

You let the abyss take you. When I reached for your hand to pull you back, you would not let me try. You turned from me.

[ At that, her voice shudders and her gaze falls low. She can't remember him turning his back on her ever before. If he won't let her, then she can't help him, and knowing that breaks her heart. Can't he feel it? Or can he no longer feel her heart? Has this war pulled them so far apart already?

If so, she knows it to be her own fault. She hasn't been herself since working in the Gut's Bind. She was too difficult for him. It's no wonder he was so keen on investigating the source of the concern, but now what has come of it? No solace, only sorrow. ]

[thedreamer]

[ He hears the words before she utters them, a prickle at the edge of his mind, her fear almost an entity unto itself, though the shadow of her thoughts near the edge of his consciousness is nothing at all like the spirt that haunted him. He wants to run, wants to hide from her, yet she pulls his hand closer and she lays before him, wounded by his actions in ways beyond the physical.

Splattered with blood, suffering injuries she should have never been made to endure, the Doctor hasn't felt quite so ashamed in...a very long time. It all could have been avoided. Every misstep he made in bringing them here, to this exact moment, is recalled with utter clarity and resounding disappointment in himself. He was so sure of everything and look where it got him. Yet again, he misjudged. He's only grateful that Vanessa still lives and breathes to remind him of his folly.

And still, he wants to run. He wants to wrench his hand away abruptly and turn from her. Not because of her, because of him. It's always because of him; his endless mistakes, his desire to forestall pain, as if it would keep anything from ever hurting. Yet, he remains captive to Vanessa Ives; for the moment, at least, because she is injured, and because he can't leave her when she speaks such heartbreaking and brutal truth. They've come far enough not to hide from one another, haven't they? He doesn't pull his hand away, at least. ]

Better to take me than anyone else.

[ Than you. ]

I'm more than capable.

[ The truth beneath the words, painful and haunting: he thought he was more than capable. ]