Thoughts at Midnight, a doctor who fanfic

I own nothing and am perfectly aware that this has been done. Wanted to do it anyway. So sue me.

... Except don't.

Author's Note: Do not read this if you haven't seen the Doctor Who episode Midnight. It will make NO sense.

"So?" Her eyes are too intense, and the color reminds me of the diamonds outside. Shining. Gorgeous. Remote... And unlike the poisonous rocks, they're fixated completely on me. Completely. This is really bizarre, and considering everything I've seen, that actually means something. I really want to pull back, to skitter over with the others like the frightened little cockroach I am, but maybe…. Maybe I've misunderstood. Maybe it doesn't understand their… our fear. Maybe it really does need my help, and I just can't turn his back on that—I can't.

And… honestly, I am curious. A sort of breathless, fairly morbid curiosity, but curiosity nonetheless. I mean, honestly, it's completely new, completely different, and I just want to know… But I've got to keep that in check. The other passengers are getting severely panicked, and panic does ugly things. They know I'm different, and in these kinds of situation, different often equates with dead. "What d'ya think?" Eyes… this is really… Okay. Okay. I don't like this. Why does my chest feel so tight?

"Do we have a deal?"

"—Have a deal?" Wait… what? What? Did she? … She spoke before I did. …She can't have. Still, better move ba….

Thu-thu-thu-thud.

I can't move. I can't move. I CAN'T. I—okay. NO. Breathe. Breathe. You can move. Don't be stupid. Just… Move.

I don't move.

"…Hold on, did she just…?"

"She spoke first!"

"She can't have!"

"She did!"

"She spoke first!"

I can't move. I can't even fall over backwards to get away from her, can't draw in enough air, can't—And she's still looking at me with those eyes, and it suddenly occurs to me that those eyes are LAUGHING. At me. Languid and amused, unhurried, they play over my face in the same way that a cat's eyes might move over the shivering form of a helpless baby bird. It's a predator's look, supremely assured—the kind of look that usually sets off the running. Run until you can think of something, Doctor. Run. RunrunrunrunRUN but I CAN'T MOVE. I can feel my throat closing, my hands shaking, my muscles straining to keep me upright and still instead of allowing me to scramble backward, yelling, likely as not.

Because even now I know what this little turn of events probably means. Oh, yes.

"Oh," Sky's body murmurs, "Look at that…. I'm ahead of you…"

My mouth opens a little ways into her sentence. NO! Stop-- "Oh, look at that. I'm ahead of you." My eyes are as wide as saucers, and my stomach, the only part of me that seems to be moving, performs sickening flips. Those were my words. Mine. But not anymore. I can't look away from the cool, subtle amusement of those eyes, and my head starts to pound.

I know this feeling. This is panic. Complete, mind numbing panic. Not nervousness. Not fear. Not anger. Not uncertainty. Panic.

Help me. Please! Somebody hit her, or … or distract her! Break her concentration! I don't know! Get her AWAY from me! I tried to save you; I did. It was stupid to keep talking to her even after I'd worked out the pattern, but—Please, just—

"Did you see?" the Professor exclaims, "She spoke before he did! Definitely!"

"He's copying her," the kid—Jethro—confirms.

"Doctor? What's happening?" Professor Hobbes asks me. I can't answer. I can't—please do something! My head-- It now feels like someone is digging through it with a stick; for all I know, somebody is.

I would be hyperventilating right now if I had any control.

"I think… it's moved. I think it's letting me go," Sky says slowly, her voice soft, filled with false relief. She sounds like an actress on one of those Soaps that Jackie Tyler watched, and her eyes—still locked with mine-- stay exactly the same. Laughing. They can't possibly—they won't—They can't believe her! Not with those eyes! I repeat after her without hesitation, despite my efforts to clamp my jaws shut on the words. Please, you can't really…?

"What does that mean?" Dee Dee asks, her tone guarded, "Letting you go from what?" I can't turn to look at her—can't even move my eyes—but I can picture her frown perfectly. It's the same one that she had on when she asked me about the Micro-petrol engine.

"He's repeating now; he's the one doing it. It's him!" NO! That quickly, even? That's not—not—

I stare at her, trying to communicate something, anything with my eyes. Stop. Just stop. You don't have to do this. I said that I would help. I meant it. Let me go. Just let me go. LET ME GO!

She continues to look at me from beneath heavy lidded eyes, frowning at me vaguely, like something about my stunned, horrified expression puzzles her.

"They're separating!" No! Look at me! I'm trapped! Look at my face; you've got to look at-

"Mrs. Silvestry," the Professor asks, sounding closer and much louder, like he's speaking to someone across a crowded room. "Is that you?" It's not; she—it has me! You're smarter than this!

"Yes," she says, still not looking away from me, "Yes! It's me! I'm coming back!" Laughing. Laughing with cold, burning—It hurts! "Listen! It's me!"

"Yes, yes, it's me! I'm coming back." Drifting. It hurts, and I can't—"Listen! It's me!"

"It's passed into the doctor. It's transferred. Whatever it is, it's gone inside him." No! That's not what—

"No," Dee Dee says softly, that same frown in her voice, like she's still working it out, "That's not what happened."

I would like to feel a little thrill of hope at those words, but all I can feel is cold fear. The thing that is not Sky looks at me, and then looks down at her fingers as she wiggles them. Taunting me. I normally do not handle taunting very well, but at the moment I'm too terrified to be angry. And my head--! She's pulling things out, and--

"Look at her!" Val says. I can hear suppressed tears in her voice. She wants to believe this. It's easier.

"Look at me," the Thing replies, slowly turning her head back and fourth, smiling a benevolent, blissful little smile. It brings to mind those religious portraits of the Virgin Mary. Bloody Mary… "I can move! I can feel again! I'm coming back to life!"

"Look at me. I can move. I can feel again. I'm coming back to life." I'm freezing to death. My bones feel like thick chunks of solid ice.

"And look at him; he can't move." Laughter. Gloating laughter in those gorgeous eyes. I can almost hear it.

"And look at him," I repeat numbly, "He can't move." Getting… harder to think. She can't be stealing all of my words…? My thoughts? I can't—My memories? They're all I ha—

"Help me," she says, turning those eyes away from mine at last and looking up at someone behind me, her expression pleading.

"Help me…" Help. I can't—I--

"Professor."

"Get me away from him."

"Get me away from him." What is she doing? … Isolating me?

"Please," she adds in a pitiful voice, lifting her hands beseechingly.

"Please…" I'm begging. I don't even know who I'm begging. The professor? Dee Dee? Whatever is inside Sky? Please. Please!

I hear him coming up behind me with slow, shuffling, hesitant footsteps, and then, after a beat, he reaches down, pulling her up and out of my line of sight. "Oh, thank you," she sighs.

"Oh," I breathe, sounding strangled to my own ears, "Thank you." I can't—Can't get enough air…

"They've completely separated." Someone… Jethro? It's so hard to think…

"It's in him," Jethro's father says, his voice rough and full of aggression, "Don't you see? I said it was him all the time." Snarling like a wolf. Bad…

"She's free," gasps Val, sounding like she's having some sort of religious experience, "She's been saved!"

"Oh, it was so cold," Skye tells them earnestly.

"… It was so cold." My voice… sounds wooden. Don't they notice? Can't they…hear me? Hot tears gather behind my eyelids, but I can't manage a blink to make them fall.

"I couldn't breathe."

"I couldn't breathe." Present… tense… actually…

"I'm sorry."

"I must have scared you all so much."

"I must have scared you all so much." Please… someone… just look at my face!

"No!" The tears in Vals voice have… Relief. Clothes rustle. She hugs Sky's body, I think… "No, it's all right. I've got you. Oooh, there you are my love; it's gone." No… No…

"I wouldn't touch her." … Dee Dee. She sounds nervous, but matter of fact.

"But it's gone; she's clean. It passed into him." I… can't tell who it is. The Professor?

"That's not what happened." Dee Dee is adamant.

"Thank you for your opinion, Dee, but clearly, Mrs Silvestry has been released." No… That's the Professor. Why did I…? Hard to…

"No!" Dee Dee is not backing down.

"Just leave her alone!" Is that… Val? Leave her… a loan? No. Alone. What's wrong with me? …I'm… I'm losing my words. "She's safe, isn't she?" whoever it is asks, seeking justification, "Jethro! It's let her go, hasn't it?"

"I think so, yeah. … Professor?"

"Well, um, I'd say, from observation... The Doctor can't move, and when she was possessed, she couldn't move, so..." That's not the pattern, though! Not much a surprise; the only person who's really thinking about the situation is Dee Dee.

"Well then, there we are. Now the only problem we've got is this Doctor." I only wanted to save all of you... Just stop and think for a second. Just think! Please! … I… I really can't anymore… Losing…

"It's inside his head," Sky says softly, reasonably.

"It's inside his head." My eyes are full of tears now, brimming, but no one is looking at my face. She is inside my head. I'm having trouble formu… formula… words can't…

"He killed the driver…" She's looking at me. I can feel it. She's laughing at me. Taunting me with her lie, daring me to contradict her, expose her as the true culprit when she knows that I can't even move an eyebrow on purpose.

"He killed the driver…" They're… smarter than this… they have to be… Please let them be smarter than this!

"And the mechanic," she adds, smoothly.

"And the mechanic…"

"And now he wants us." It sounds reasonable, the way she says it. I can sense the tension in the little cabin rising with every word she speaks.

"I said so!" spits Val, all venomous, self righteous anger.

"He's waited so long…"

"In the dark…" Donna is… What will she…?

"And the cold."

"And the cold." I can feel myself trembling, shaking ever so slightly. I don't know if it's from the maddening cold or the effort of staying crouched for so long. Don't they… see…? Look at me! Please!

"And the diamonds."

"Until you came."

"Until you came." I'm… forgetting something. What… What am I forgetting? I can't … think…

"Bodies so hot."

"With blood."

"With blood." I can't fight this. I can't save myself. I can't… I can't save you… Any of you. I'm sorry. I'm so, so sorry. I shouldn't have continued talking to her after she singled out my voice. It was a mind-bogglingly stupid, arrogant thing to do.

"And pain."

"And pain." What will happen to my… What is it? My Tar… My Tar something… I can't remember what it's called. But… It's mine! I can't have... forgotten...That's… that's imposs…

Whatever it is, now someone is yelling. Val, I think. So frightened. Telling them to make me stop. Make me… I'm losing it… I'm losing my mind as I sit here…Give it back, please. Please give it back. You're leaving me alone in the dark with the…

My Heartbeat?

Ta-ta-ta-ta.

Whatever it is, I don't like it, though I can't quite remember why.

They continue to argue, and I loose the thread of it for a while. Dee Dee is talking, but they won't….

"… his voice!"

Not anymore.

"…AVERAGE AT BEST!"

… Lost moon of what, again? Poo…ch? I'm going where it went. I'm going to disappear, and Donna…

Oh, Donna. I should have left you at home with your grandpa and your little blue car. I never learn, do I?

"That's how he does it."

My mouth is open and speaking before I realize that it was Sky who spoke. "That's how he does it."

"He makes you fight."

"He makes you fight." Dee… Help me!

"Creeps into your head."

"And whispers."

"Listen."

"Just listen."

"That's him."

"Inside."

Furious voices. "Don't... him whisper! Shut him up… him up… Get him out of…!" Like listening to a badly tuned radio… Or, more accurately, like trying to understand a foreign language that you only sort of speak. There are words in the spaces, words that I'm not getting.

Words that I've lost.

"Throw him out! Yeah! We… throw him out!"

…Which is not to say that I don't get the gist of it.

"… Don't … talk about it! Don't be… less! Do…!" Don't! Please don't! Please!

"I will! You … me! I'm … to throw him out!" The man stomps over and stands behind me. I can feel the heat of his hands poised above my shoulders.

"Yes!" cries Sky, jubilant.

I can feel my body trying to cry, but it can't. The tears still don't fall, even though my eyes are practically overflowing. "Yes!"

"Throw him out!"

"Throw him out!" Please don't! Please! PLEASE!

"Get rid of him!"

"Get rid of him!" It comes out like a sob. You all were supposed to be smarter than this. You were supposed to be better than this.

"Now!"

"Now!" The man grabs me under the armpits, his fingers digging into me, and starts dragging me backward. ROSE! SAVE ME!

But Rose doesn't. Rose is gone, gone forever, and the next instant I have no idea who this Rose person is. A brief flash of a bright smile, of sunlight shining through gold hair... And that doesn't leave. It isn't a coherent thought, and it's too ghostly for the creature to make use of.

Everyone continues to yell, I continue to be dragged, and a girl screams and cries. On some vague level, I'm sure that it's that girl with the gold hair. I fully intend to help her--in fact, it's terribly important that I help her, though I no longer have the words for why-- but… I sort of… fade out. I can't move. I can't breathe. I can't think. I just sort of stare and watch the pretty colors. I'm pretty sure that I'm still repeating Sky's words, but I can't really distinguish my voice or hers from any of the others. Until…

"Multo Bene!" My words. My signature.

"Multo Bene!" Can't…

"Allons-y!" My WORDS. For a moment, I'm furious. Absolutely, uncompromisingly livid. Then I abruptly forget what both of the phrases mean, and my white-hot rage fades into the kind of fuzzy, confused alarm that an ant probably feels when a leaf falls in its path. They're hers, too. Everything is. I've got nothing left.

"Allons-y!" The word sounds slurred, almost like I'm drunk.

"… His voice!" I can't tell who that is; it's just a little clip of coherent sound in a sea of noise. Maybe the last one I'll ever get, but I don't register the import of that. I can't think in words, not anymore; instead, I feel a sort of disconnected annoyance.

And abrupt there is bright, pale blue light, and I'm screaming. Replicating surprise and shock that isn't mine, and the scream goes on, and on, and on, and on and—

The scream stops, the light cuts off, and suddenly warmth rushes back into my limbs. I tumble forward to land on my stomach-- Was I off of the ground?—and, with some difficulty, roll myself onto my back, gasping for air. My mind is clear, full of staggeringly impressive vocabulary words, and empty of any presence but my own. "It's gone," I pant, more to reassure myself than to let everyone else know. Honestly, I'm not thinking about them at all… except to note that if they start getting close to me, I'm going to move away. Fast. "It's goneit'sgoneits'gone." Rose Tyler. TARDIS. Allons-y. I'm okay. I'm okay. I'm alright. It's gone.

About thirty seconds later, I drag myself into something that at least resembles an upright position, using an arm of a chair for support. Still breathing hard, I lean my weight against the chair itself. I'm still just… Briefly, I can't think of the term that I want, and terror shoots through me. Shell shocked. There it is.

"I said it was her."

I look up at Val. The expression on her face tells me that she's looking for permission to pretend like she didn't just try to have me tossed out into extonic sunlight. I do not give it. She averts her eyes to get away from whatever she sees in my face, her expression uncomfortable and ashamed. Good.

The rest of them don't even try. They quietly wait in chairs, spaced out, no one sitting next to anyone else. I stay leaning against mine instead of trying to pull myself up into it, resting my folded arms on the tops of my knees. Honestly, it's all I can do to stop myself from hugging them and rocking back and fourth like a traumatized kid.

No one knows the hostess' name.

I didn't see it, but she pulled Sky over to the door, and... How do I keep getting perfect strangers to kill themselves to protect me? Really brilliant, isn't it? What a spectacular talent I have. And the really stupid thing? The unbelievably ludicrous truth? I still want to know what that thing was. After all of that. I still want to know. A woman DIED in my place, and I'm still curious.

… I sigh, absently running a hand through my hair, and try not to think about it too much. Anyway, I'm fine. I'm always fine. Fantastic. Brilliant. Have a jelly baby. Woooooh. I make the obligatory 'Woooh' motion; spinning my index finger around in a little circle. Jethro looks at me like I'm completely off my rocker, so I raise an eyebrow, my expression dark. He flushes and looks down while the dad pretends like he didn't notice me threatening his son.

I'm fine.