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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[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. ]