realityshifted | Turning and Returning

Entry tags:

doctor who (d1) reinette

Turning and Returning

[There is a table.

Wood where there would be satin, tea where there would be coffee.

Strangers over enemies and clothes she does not recognize.

Life, where there should be --

Reinette takes all this in stride because, ultimately, it is what she does. After visitors in fireplaces and Clockwork Men there is little left to phase her. Just what this is, she will eventually discover? And until she does? There is little to be gained by a lack of control.

One palm presses flat against her stomach, to the whisper of a scar. A scar that is just as healed as the ones that criss-cross her wrists. Yet to Reinette is new and unexplored. Now draped in a loose fitting gown of midnight blue silk it is both the unknown, and the undeniable. A robe is placed across her shoulders, even though she is oddly warm.

She finds herself on the Plane, questions her companion.]

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[the topic of children will ever be meaningful]

I think you have to be very strong to care for so many. And I know you do so admirably.

[indeed it will. the TARDIS will give Reinette a child if she wants? she's got plenty to spare]

I am strong because my Doctor needs me to be strong. It is nothing admirable.

[it is one thing to contemplate motherhood, it is another to be a mother. She already has one child she does not know as she should]

I am strong for others. But I am strong for myself as well.

What use is strength if it is not to protect the one you love?

If you cannot protect yourself, what good can you be to others.

[her own words cause unforeseen distress]

But I cannot be harmed. I cannot be hurt or lost. Protecting myself would be an inefficient use of strength.

With all respect, dear friend, I do think you might be harmed. A great deal even. When the Doctor is in danger, do you not ache with it?

I do. [frowns, looking down] I do. The Doctor's pain ... terrifies me. Hurts me, so much. Were he to die, I...

[for all the pain her words bring, Reinette finds she cannot regret them. Knowledge is always favored over ignorance]

I know you are intimately connected to his hurts. I saw that once, in his mind. But you also know his joy as no other, yes?

And there is no joy like his.

He makes me happy, yes. Every elated emotion, every feeling of contentment, of love ... I know them all intimately. It is why I know I can care for you. [smiles gently] Because you bring him such joy.

You bring him the greatest joy of all.

[of this she is certain]

But what of you. Can you know your own joy, independently of the Doctor? Care for others he does not? Not care for those he does?

I know.

[thinks on that]

I can and do. You are one of only a few for whom I care. He has had countless others travel with him through the reaches of space, but so few have meant anything to me. And I have loved those he has not. [quietly] I love her still, though I am uncertain if she still functions.

[quietly]

Who do you love?

[just as quietly] She has no name, though many, as well. She is my sister and my love. Lolita. The Master's TARDIS.

[she accepts this]

If I can still function, after all this, surely she might as well?

Perhaps. I would be glad of it.

Is she here somewhere, in this place?

[shakes her head] I have not seen her in perhaps a century. The Master says she is dead, but I ... I do not...

I was dead.

[she is still oddly disconnected to this idea, the words come too easily]

And he himself once reminded me how difficult such a concept can be for those such as you. Somewhere, some time she is alive is she not?

I know.

[is obviously upset by this idea, but does not speak further on it]

There will always be a time in which she exists, but if she is gone along my own timeline, it is ... difficult to see her. I cannot go back on my past and I cannot choose my direction. I am still a ship and the Doctor remains my pilot. It is difficult to see her, even now.

If my insistence is upsetting, you are free to say, yet again I must point out that not only did I die here? To many I was dead elsewhere as well? It could not help but be pointed out to be when I arrived. Directly or no, I am no fool. I understood the inference.

She is somewhere. And that is a great deal more than nowhere.

[gaze softens]

But what of you, independently? What of what you wish?

[smiles softly] You are always free to speak as you will with me. Your words are not upsetting. And I will choose to believe she is waiting for me somewhere, that we will meet again. It is ... lonely to believe otherwise.

[closes her eyes, sighing] I do not wish, child. Wishes are a human construct for that which they desire but cannot attain. But for myself? I desire freedom. I desire to fly and never stop. Only in flight do I truly feel at east, truly feel myself.

Lonely because there is no one as you are?

[she wishes to understand as she has not in quite some time]

And how do you define freedom? Flight with just yourself. You and the Doctor, and no one else?

There are others, but they are not the same. Most of my brothers and sisters do not care to explore, do not want to leave the warmth of Gallifrey or the berthing cradles. They are as dull and tired as the Time Lords themselves. But she is different. She and I are as one, with the same desires and appreciation for all there is in the universe.

[shakes her head] Travelling with the Doctor. His companions are a nuisance more often than not, but generally easily ignored, save a handful. But being with him allows me to see the stars, and there is nothing I want more than that.

[Reinette believes that she understands, though she would not presume to say as much]

And when was the last time you traveled with him thus? Only the two of you, and the stars?

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