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Fic: Dating the Cleverest Boy in the World. Chapter 32.
No idea how to introduce this one... *deep breath* Please like it.
Fic index here if anyone wants to catch up, or just follow the tags. Also on AO3 and The Teaspoon.
Summary: Allison had always thought that university would be an adventure. But she'd not imagined that she'd end up dating Harold Saxon's son.
Setting: Summer 2029
Characters: Allison, others.
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 3000 approx
Feedback: Makes my world go round... No really. You have no idea.
Chapter 32
Summer 2029
Hiding behind the partitioning wall, Allison could hear the aliens discuss something (she couldn’t understand what they were saying, but they sounded urgent), before she heard them move away, their footsteps loud in the silence of the car park, the sounds of the city only filtering in dimly.
Cautiously peering over the concrete barrier she saw them disappear behind a wall (there were at least eight, big green lolloping creatures, carrying weapons in their claws), and breathed a silent sigh of relief. She had no idea why she’d not expected this - she knew of Torchwood, and why they were based where they were.
Even as the thought formed in her mind, there was a bright flash and two men appeared in the exact spot where the aliens had walked through the golden gap. Even as her vision adjusted - she was still hiding, only her eyes peering over the barrier - she recognised Jack and almost sagged from relief. The other man was about as tall, but younger and slimmer - his hair was bright orange and slicked back, and he wore a knee length dark blue sharply tailored coat over a crisp white shirt and black trousers and shoes. One of the new Torchwood employees she presumed.
The two were conferring, studying something on Jack’s wrist strap, and Allison was wondering whether to shout out to them when deathly shots suddenly cut through the air - causing both of them to leap to safety, and Allison to duck down behind her shelter again, fervently wishing that she’d taken Jess’ advice and not come. Future plans were pointless if she got herself killed...
Cautiously opening her eyes when the blasts died down she realised that the redheaded one had sought shelter behind ‘her’ partition. He was glancing round the corner, clearly trying to work out where the aliens were hiding, muttering ‘I hate days like this’ repeatedly, before withdrawing and sadly inspecting his coat where a stray shot had singed it badly. The light was too murky to make out much, but Allison saw that he was handsome, although very angular, with cheekbones that would have had Jess swooning.
As he looked up from the coat he finally noticed her - and froze.
She’d been planning to ask if more Torchwood agents were on their way - explaining that she knew Jack - but the look on his face silenced her completely. He was looking at her as if she was a dream (or possibly nightmare) come to life. Then he very slowly moved closer, reaching out to touch her cheek. (She was beginning to be seriously freaked out, but couldn’t seem to move.)
“Allison?” he asked, voice a breathless whisper, before letting his hand fall, the ghost of a touch on her skin.
Then his expression changed from incredulity to something she couldn’t define - a strange combination of sad and bitter, his lips curling into a what might pass for a smile.
“Truly I am fortune’s fool,” he said, shaking his head, and she forced herself to speak.
“Who are you?” she asked, unsure which was more unsettling - the aliens with their scary weapons, or this stranger who seemed to know her even though she had never seen him before.
Her words made him inhale sharply, as though hurt.
“Allison - it’s me,” he replied, abruptly grasping her hand. “The Seeker. Alex. I died. Got a new face. I told you how that works, remember?”
Withdrawing her hand as if scalded she could only stare in silent shock. The man in front of her was nothing like her Alex. Everything that had been curved and soft was now sharp and angular, the planes of his face unknown and uncompromising. Where Alex’s dress sense had always been laid back (bordering on lazy), this stranger made Josh look scruffy in comparison, the lines of his clothing so clean and sharp they could have come from a fashion magazine. The brown eyes she remembered so vividly (brown eyes that had held a hundred different shades, all of which she could read like an open book) were a million miles from the cool blue that were now studying her.
Slowly she shook her head.
“No. No, you can’t be.”
The stranger closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, then focussed on her again with that unnerving intensity.
“The first time you kissed me, I asked you why. You replied that because underneath everything I was only human.”
He tilted his head, the motion so familiar despite the difference in looks that she almost felt faint.
“I have never forgotten that.”
The remembered truth of his words sank as if in slow-motion, as she tried to reconcile the man in front of her with the boy she had known (dying had aged him. But that was not surprising, was it?) - but before she could reply, trying to process the reality of what had happened (he’d died - he’d died and she hadn’t known), there was a sudden commotion and the sounds of fighting. With a jolt she realised that she had completely forgotten about the aliens, as the stranger (her Alex?) by her side went completely still, his attention on the tumult as he listened intently.
Then silence feel once more and an alien voice called out. This time in English, although with strange accentuation.
“Time Lord! We have your friend! Come out, and give up your arms!”
Alex (or rather, the Alex who wore a stranger’s face, she didn’t know what to call him) sighed deeply, letting his head fall back against the concrete, before shouting back. Except he wasn’t replying to the aliens.
“Jack you moron!”
“Sorry Seeker - but I did kill three of them!” came the reply, and the strange new Alex smiled wryly.
“Well, it’ll be your funeral,” he said, mostly to himself it seemed, as the aliens got impatient.
“Stop wasting time. Give yourself up, or we kill him!”
Reaching into his inside coat pocket the new Alex brought out a strange tool of some sort, the brushed metal gleaming dully in the dim light.
“Hate days like this,” he muttered again, then slowly turned to her, eyes so guarded she had no idea what he was going to say.
But instead of speaking he abruptly pulled her in, kissing her with such passion that he left her utterly breathless, staring at him open mouthed when he let go.
“Sorry my love, but you are never going to let me do that again.”
Hefting the odd metal object, knuckles nearly going white, he added - voice serious and sad in equal measure.
“Please don’t hate me. Remember - it’s like Spiderman.”
She had no time to reply as he jumped to his feet, scanning the surroundings, before doing one of those jumping-rolling-shooting manoeuvres she had only ever seen in movies, belatedly realising that the metal tool was some sort of weapon; a golden beam searing a path of destruction as he moved. The aliens of course fired back, and she ducked down, feeling not just terrified but utterly confused; cowering from the battle until suddenly there was only silence, broken by the bleeping of car alarms.
Cautiously looking over the edge she was faced with a scene of pure devastation.
The flame haired Alex was standing, as unmoving as a statue, his weapon aimed straight at the last living alien, which was pointing a own gun of its own straight back at Alex. Dead alien bodies lay where they’d fallen, the floor in some places glistening with blood - and after a moment Allison, with a strange lurch in her stomach, recognised Jack’s military blue amongst the green.
She couldn’t take it in. It was like something out of a film. This... didn’t happen in real life. The air smelled of burnt flesh and death. She wanted to be sick.
Then Alex spoke, his strange new voice completely without emotion.
“Drop your weapon.”
The alien’s gun seemed to shake momentarily, but then it shook its head.
“Drop your weapon,” Alex repeated, still unmoving, the stark outline of the dark coat accentuating his sharp-edged silhouette - like something out a nightmare. “In case you hadn’t noticed I’ve killed everyone else, including my best friend. I am faster than you and smarter than you, and besides I’m immortal. Drop. your. weapon.”
The silence stretched, then with a clatter the alien’s gun fell to floor.
“Thanks,” Alex said, expression still a blank, as he momentarily raised his weapon and pressed something which made the car alarms stop bleeping. The sudden silence was oppressive.
Then he moved forwards, his weapon once more aimed squarely at the alien, and it fell to its knees.
(Allison watched - unable to move, unable to reconcile what she was witnessing with what she knew to be true. Maybe she should call him ‘Seeker’ rather than ‘Alex’? ‘Alex’ didn’t fit him at all anymore... )
“Mercy,” the alien said, its voice odd and yet clearly pleading - and something like a sneer appeared on the Seeker’s face. Allison was suddenly reminded of the incident with the paparazzi photographer. That... pure disdain. It had blossomed into this?
“Mercy?” the Seeker repeated, voice so cold it made her shiver. “Sorry, wrong Time Lord.”
Stopping in front of the now pathetic looking creature, he tilted his head, and the gesture wasn’t familiar at all. This was no longer the boy in whom she had seen humanity - this was pure Time Lord: Everything she had pulled away from. But then he spoke, distracting her.
“You know, I was planning on having such a pleasant evening. A nice dinner, followed by a book in front of the fireplace - maybe a glass of wine. Except then Jack calls me, tells me that he needs a hand... And the upshot is that I have now lost my appetite for the next week at least. Plus you’ve ruined my favourite coat. Mercy? Not a chance. Although... I will give you a choice.”
The alien blinked its large eyes, lifting its head hopefully.
“Option one - I take you back to face the justice of your people. I don’t remember the details, but as far as I recall it involves being boiled alive? I rather approve of that, considering what you did. Option two - I hand you over to the Shadow Proclamation. I’m sure they’d be more than happy to get their hands on a member of the notorious Slitheen family, although I do believe the Judoon are not exactly... careful when they extract information. Option three - I kill you now.”
A pause as he studied his captured foe, face expressionless:
“Your choice.”
In the silence that followed Allison could hear nothing except her own heartbeat. Then finally the alien lowered its head.
“Option three.”
The Seeker nodded.
“As you wish.”
A golden beam singed the air, and the alien collapsed.
(‘Brought up by a hero, a villain and a secret government agent,’ he’d told her once. And this was what they had created...)
Even before the alien’s body hit the ground, the Seeker had turned away and was with swift strides making his way to where Jack’s body lay, before kneeling down beside him, gently cradling his head in his lap.
Allison, shaking with fear or anger or disgust or shock, she wasn’t sure, slowly stood and walked around the barrier, facing the man she had once loved.
“What have you done?” she asked, voice nearly breaking, and he lifted his head, taking in her presence as if having forgotten about her completely.
Then his face softened, a gentle - almost happy - smile spreading across his new features.
“Didn’t I ever tell you? Jack’s immortal. The most incredible wonder in the universe. Just wait, shouldn’t be long.”
Speechless, she could only stare as his eyes once more fastened on Jack, with a level of concentration she didn’t know what to do with. He’d just executed someone in front of her, and he didn’t even think it worth a mention?
(Would Jack get a new face too, as well as a personality makeover? She felt very small all of a sudden, wondering what she was doing in this world of immortals who dealt in death. She remembered this feeling, and didn't like it.)
A moment, then the Seeker’s smile widened in pure delight, and he reached out, gently laying his hand on Jack’s chest and, as Allison watched (captivated despite herself), a golden glow appeared around his hand - and Jack gasped back to life.
Then he blinked, looking up at the Seeker with confusion.
“Wait, that didn’t hurt...”
The Seeker moved his hand, the golden haze fading, but Jack’s eyes narrowed, as he cautiously sat up.
“Did you-”
The Seeker shrugged.
“Seemed the least I could do, what with killing you and all. I know the laser isn’t exactly gentle...”
“I’m still sure you shouldn’t-” Jack started, before looking around and then noticing that they weren’t alone.
He stared at her for the longest moment, before saying: “Allison?” in a voice so confused that she would have laughed if the circumstances were different.
Then his brow clouded over.
“Hang on...”
The Seeker laid a hand on his arm.
“I know.” He went silent, then shot Jack an inscrutable look.
“I was thinking about you, actually... Considering where we are.”
His voice dropped as they conferred, and it was all Allison could do not to turn on her heel and run away as fast as her legs could carry her. But she needed to understand what had happened. And why.
All this time she’d been trying to choose - and this had been her choice?
Above her head, a ‘daylight’ LED light dimmed, and she hugged herself, trying not to look at the dead bodies littering the floor, yet couldn’t stop herself. They looked like weird overgrown babies, except for how they had three ‘fingers’ on each hand, with what looked like giant nails curving into thick claws. Where had they come from? What had they done? Why had they not merited mercy? Why had her Alex-
She didn’t get further, taking a shaky breath and focussing on the two immortals who appeared to have come to some sort of understanding.
Although she noticed something odd - Jack had always been a big brother figure, someone Alex turned to for help. Yet there was something... different now in the way they interacted. But then everything about him was different...
She didn’t get time to ponder the issue any further as Jack nodded to the Seeker and came up to her.
“It's good to see you, Allison,” he said, smiling that perfectly handsome smile.
“You too. I think,” she said cautiously (at least he’d kept the same face - what was he?), and his smile dimmed a little.
“I- Just... All the best,” he finally replied, before walking off, leaving her alone with the Seeker.
The Seeker, who was more of an alien than her Alex had ever been. The Seeker, the Time Lord, who stood victorious amongst the fallen of battle...
What did it mean? Who was he, now?
“I was wondering,” he eventually said, “would you maybe like to get some coffee?”
“But what about... this?” she asked, indicating the devastation and dead bodies surrounding them, and he shrugged.
“Don’t worry, Jack’ll clear up. But I’m guessing you want answers.”
She nodded; and then found herself walking with him - out of the car park, along roads and into the town proper, where cafés were still open. He didn’t speak, only now and again glancing at her with a strange look she couldn’t gauge - as if trying to puzzle her out, and failing. No attempt at explaining himself. No defensive arguments. Just... nothing. His new handsome profile didn’t give anything away, and she wondered whether she was safe. Yet where could she run? (And he was right, damn him. She wanted - no needed - answers. Wanted to understand what had happened to him. Why was he... so distant? He'd been like the sun, yet now he seemed as remote as a star in a far away galaxy.)
The world seemed normal. Everything was carrying on as if nothing had happened. Streets and cars and people walking around - as if the one she loved hadn’t died and been replaced by a stranger who was more of an alien than she had ever dreamed possible. Who could kill an enemy at point-blank range without a flicker of emotion...
“This one looks nice,” he said eventually, stopping by a Caffè Nero, and turned to her, waiting for her to respond.
When she didn’t, he took a step away from the door, studying her, confused. The light from the cafe caught his hair and made it shine like polished fire.
“What is it? Do you want to go somewhere else?”
She shook her head, trying to fight the sudden lump in her throat.
“It’s just... You died, and you didn’t tell me? I know we’ve not really been talking for... a good while, that we agreed I’d contact you, but I thought- Didn’t you think I had a right to know? I- I care about you in case you’d forgotten.”
He was watching her with those cool blue eyes she couldn’t read at all, his face so devoid of emotion that she wondered how this could be the same boy who had laid his hearts and soul in her hands.
She remembered him remarking - so very long ago it seemed now - how the Doctor could walk through war zones and scenes of mass murder without so much as a hair out of place. Looking at him now, she almost shivered. ‘Not a hair out of place’ indeed, after all the death... After all the killing, at his hand. He hadn’t seemed concerned at all.
“Oh my beautiful Allie,” he said eventually, voice so quiet she barely heard him as he reached up and gently stroked her hair the way someone would a child, the intimate gesture strangely at odds with his closed-off demeanour.
Then he seemed to catch himself, and let his hand fall away.
“I died more than ten years ago. I was 200 years old at the time, and you had been dead for more than a century. This is not a chance to pick up where we left off - it’s the end of the line.”
As the words sank in, illuminating yet devastating, he pushed the door to the cafe open.
“Do you still want that coffee?”
But his words didn’t register. Nor did anything else, as the whole world seemed to go strangely fuzzy around the edges and then she saw nothing more.
Chapter 33.
Fic index here if anyone wants to catch up, or just follow the tags. Also on AO3 and The Teaspoon.
Summary: Allison had always thought that university would be an adventure. But she'd not imagined that she'd end up dating Harold Saxon's son.
Setting: Summer 2029
Characters: Allison, others.
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 3000 approx
Feedback: Makes my world go round... No really. You have no idea.
Chapter 32
Summer 2029
Hiding behind the partitioning wall, Allison could hear the aliens discuss something (she couldn’t understand what they were saying, but they sounded urgent), before she heard them move away, their footsteps loud in the silence of the car park, the sounds of the city only filtering in dimly.
Cautiously peering over the concrete barrier she saw them disappear behind a wall (there were at least eight, big green lolloping creatures, carrying weapons in their claws), and breathed a silent sigh of relief. She had no idea why she’d not expected this - she knew of Torchwood, and why they were based where they were.
Even as the thought formed in her mind, there was a bright flash and two men appeared in the exact spot where the aliens had walked through the golden gap. Even as her vision adjusted - she was still hiding, only her eyes peering over the barrier - she recognised Jack and almost sagged from relief. The other man was about as tall, but younger and slimmer - his hair was bright orange and slicked back, and he wore a knee length dark blue sharply tailored coat over a crisp white shirt and black trousers and shoes. One of the new Torchwood employees she presumed.
The two were conferring, studying something on Jack’s wrist strap, and Allison was wondering whether to shout out to them when deathly shots suddenly cut through the air - causing both of them to leap to safety, and Allison to duck down behind her shelter again, fervently wishing that she’d taken Jess’ advice and not come. Future plans were pointless if she got herself killed...
Cautiously opening her eyes when the blasts died down she realised that the redheaded one had sought shelter behind ‘her’ partition. He was glancing round the corner, clearly trying to work out where the aliens were hiding, muttering ‘I hate days like this’ repeatedly, before withdrawing and sadly inspecting his coat where a stray shot had singed it badly. The light was too murky to make out much, but Allison saw that he was handsome, although very angular, with cheekbones that would have had Jess swooning.
As he looked up from the coat he finally noticed her - and froze.
She’d been planning to ask if more Torchwood agents were on their way - explaining that she knew Jack - but the look on his face silenced her completely. He was looking at her as if she was a dream (or possibly nightmare) come to life. Then he very slowly moved closer, reaching out to touch her cheek. (She was beginning to be seriously freaked out, but couldn’t seem to move.)
“Allison?” he asked, voice a breathless whisper, before letting his hand fall, the ghost of a touch on her skin.
Then his expression changed from incredulity to something she couldn’t define - a strange combination of sad and bitter, his lips curling into a what might pass for a smile.
“Truly I am fortune’s fool,” he said, shaking his head, and she forced herself to speak.
“Who are you?” she asked, unsure which was more unsettling - the aliens with their scary weapons, or this stranger who seemed to know her even though she had never seen him before.
Her words made him inhale sharply, as though hurt.
“Allison - it’s me,” he replied, abruptly grasping her hand. “The Seeker. Alex. I died. Got a new face. I told you how that works, remember?”
Withdrawing her hand as if scalded she could only stare in silent shock. The man in front of her was nothing like her Alex. Everything that had been curved and soft was now sharp and angular, the planes of his face unknown and uncompromising. Where Alex’s dress sense had always been laid back (bordering on lazy), this stranger made Josh look scruffy in comparison, the lines of his clothing so clean and sharp they could have come from a fashion magazine. The brown eyes she remembered so vividly (brown eyes that had held a hundred different shades, all of which she could read like an open book) were a million miles from the cool blue that were now studying her.
Slowly she shook her head.
“No. No, you can’t be.”
The stranger closed his eyes, taking a deep breath, then focussed on her again with that unnerving intensity.
“The first time you kissed me, I asked you why. You replied that because underneath everything I was only human.”
He tilted his head, the motion so familiar despite the difference in looks that she almost felt faint.
“I have never forgotten that.”
The remembered truth of his words sank as if in slow-motion, as she tried to reconcile the man in front of her with the boy she had known (dying had aged him. But that was not surprising, was it?) - but before she could reply, trying to process the reality of what had happened (he’d died - he’d died and she hadn’t known), there was a sudden commotion and the sounds of fighting. With a jolt she realised that she had completely forgotten about the aliens, as the stranger (her Alex?) by her side went completely still, his attention on the tumult as he listened intently.
Then silence feel once more and an alien voice called out. This time in English, although with strange accentuation.
“Time Lord! We have your friend! Come out, and give up your arms!”
Alex (or rather, the Alex who wore a stranger’s face, she didn’t know what to call him) sighed deeply, letting his head fall back against the concrete, before shouting back. Except he wasn’t replying to the aliens.
“Jack you moron!”
“Sorry Seeker - but I did kill three of them!” came the reply, and the strange new Alex smiled wryly.
“Well, it’ll be your funeral,” he said, mostly to himself it seemed, as the aliens got impatient.
“Stop wasting time. Give yourself up, or we kill him!”
Reaching into his inside coat pocket the new Alex brought out a strange tool of some sort, the brushed metal gleaming dully in the dim light.
“Hate days like this,” he muttered again, then slowly turned to her, eyes so guarded she had no idea what he was going to say.
But instead of speaking he abruptly pulled her in, kissing her with such passion that he left her utterly breathless, staring at him open mouthed when he let go.
“Sorry my love, but you are never going to let me do that again.”
Hefting the odd metal object, knuckles nearly going white, he added - voice serious and sad in equal measure.
“Please don’t hate me. Remember - it’s like Spiderman.”
She had no time to reply as he jumped to his feet, scanning the surroundings, before doing one of those jumping-rolling-shooting manoeuvres she had only ever seen in movies, belatedly realising that the metal tool was some sort of weapon; a golden beam searing a path of destruction as he moved. The aliens of course fired back, and she ducked down, feeling not just terrified but utterly confused; cowering from the battle until suddenly there was only silence, broken by the bleeping of car alarms.
Cautiously looking over the edge she was faced with a scene of pure devastation.
The flame haired Alex was standing, as unmoving as a statue, his weapon aimed straight at the last living alien, which was pointing a own gun of its own straight back at Alex. Dead alien bodies lay where they’d fallen, the floor in some places glistening with blood - and after a moment Allison, with a strange lurch in her stomach, recognised Jack’s military blue amongst the green.
She couldn’t take it in. It was like something out of a film. This... didn’t happen in real life. The air smelled of burnt flesh and death. She wanted to be sick.
Then Alex spoke, his strange new voice completely without emotion.
“Drop your weapon.”
The alien’s gun seemed to shake momentarily, but then it shook its head.
“Drop your weapon,” Alex repeated, still unmoving, the stark outline of the dark coat accentuating his sharp-edged silhouette - like something out a nightmare. “In case you hadn’t noticed I’ve killed everyone else, including my best friend. I am faster than you and smarter than you, and besides I’m immortal. Drop. your. weapon.”
The silence stretched, then with a clatter the alien’s gun fell to floor.
“Thanks,” Alex said, expression still a blank, as he momentarily raised his weapon and pressed something which made the car alarms stop bleeping. The sudden silence was oppressive.
Then he moved forwards, his weapon once more aimed squarely at the alien, and it fell to its knees.
(Allison watched - unable to move, unable to reconcile what she was witnessing with what she knew to be true. Maybe she should call him ‘Seeker’ rather than ‘Alex’? ‘Alex’ didn’t fit him at all anymore... )
“Mercy,” the alien said, its voice odd and yet clearly pleading - and something like a sneer appeared on the Seeker’s face. Allison was suddenly reminded of the incident with the paparazzi photographer. That... pure disdain. It had blossomed into this?
“Mercy?” the Seeker repeated, voice so cold it made her shiver. “Sorry, wrong Time Lord.”
Stopping in front of the now pathetic looking creature, he tilted his head, and the gesture wasn’t familiar at all. This was no longer the boy in whom she had seen humanity - this was pure Time Lord: Everything she had pulled away from. But then he spoke, distracting her.
“You know, I was planning on having such a pleasant evening. A nice dinner, followed by a book in front of the fireplace - maybe a glass of wine. Except then Jack calls me, tells me that he needs a hand... And the upshot is that I have now lost my appetite for the next week at least. Plus you’ve ruined my favourite coat. Mercy? Not a chance. Although... I will give you a choice.”
The alien blinked its large eyes, lifting its head hopefully.
“Option one - I take you back to face the justice of your people. I don’t remember the details, but as far as I recall it involves being boiled alive? I rather approve of that, considering what you did. Option two - I hand you over to the Shadow Proclamation. I’m sure they’d be more than happy to get their hands on a member of the notorious Slitheen family, although I do believe the Judoon are not exactly... careful when they extract information. Option three - I kill you now.”
A pause as he studied his captured foe, face expressionless:
“Your choice.”
In the silence that followed Allison could hear nothing except her own heartbeat. Then finally the alien lowered its head.
“Option three.”
The Seeker nodded.
“As you wish.”
A golden beam singed the air, and the alien collapsed.
(‘Brought up by a hero, a villain and a secret government agent,’ he’d told her once. And this was what they had created...)
Even before the alien’s body hit the ground, the Seeker had turned away and was with swift strides making his way to where Jack’s body lay, before kneeling down beside him, gently cradling his head in his lap.
Allison, shaking with fear or anger or disgust or shock, she wasn’t sure, slowly stood and walked around the barrier, facing the man she had once loved.
“What have you done?” she asked, voice nearly breaking, and he lifted his head, taking in her presence as if having forgotten about her completely.
Then his face softened, a gentle - almost happy - smile spreading across his new features.
“Didn’t I ever tell you? Jack’s immortal. The most incredible wonder in the universe. Just wait, shouldn’t be long.”
Speechless, she could only stare as his eyes once more fastened on Jack, with a level of concentration she didn’t know what to do with. He’d just executed someone in front of her, and he didn’t even think it worth a mention?
(Would Jack get a new face too, as well as a personality makeover? She felt very small all of a sudden, wondering what she was doing in this world of immortals who dealt in death. She remembered this feeling, and didn't like it.)
A moment, then the Seeker’s smile widened in pure delight, and he reached out, gently laying his hand on Jack’s chest and, as Allison watched (captivated despite herself), a golden glow appeared around his hand - and Jack gasped back to life.
Then he blinked, looking up at the Seeker with confusion.
“Wait, that didn’t hurt...”
The Seeker moved his hand, the golden haze fading, but Jack’s eyes narrowed, as he cautiously sat up.
“Did you-”
The Seeker shrugged.
“Seemed the least I could do, what with killing you and all. I know the laser isn’t exactly gentle...”
“I’m still sure you shouldn’t-” Jack started, before looking around and then noticing that they weren’t alone.
He stared at her for the longest moment, before saying: “Allison?” in a voice so confused that she would have laughed if the circumstances were different.
Then his brow clouded over.
“Hang on...”
The Seeker laid a hand on his arm.
“I know.” He went silent, then shot Jack an inscrutable look.
“I was thinking about you, actually... Considering where we are.”
His voice dropped as they conferred, and it was all Allison could do not to turn on her heel and run away as fast as her legs could carry her. But she needed to understand what had happened. And why.
All this time she’d been trying to choose - and this had been her choice?
Above her head, a ‘daylight’ LED light dimmed, and she hugged herself, trying not to look at the dead bodies littering the floor, yet couldn’t stop herself. They looked like weird overgrown babies, except for how they had three ‘fingers’ on each hand, with what looked like giant nails curving into thick claws. Where had they come from? What had they done? Why had they not merited mercy? Why had her Alex-
She didn’t get further, taking a shaky breath and focussing on the two immortals who appeared to have come to some sort of understanding.
Although she noticed something odd - Jack had always been a big brother figure, someone Alex turned to for help. Yet there was something... different now in the way they interacted. But then everything about him was different...
She didn’t get time to ponder the issue any further as Jack nodded to the Seeker and came up to her.
“It's good to see you, Allison,” he said, smiling that perfectly handsome smile.
“You too. I think,” she said cautiously (at least he’d kept the same face - what was he?), and his smile dimmed a little.
“I- Just... All the best,” he finally replied, before walking off, leaving her alone with the Seeker.
The Seeker, who was more of an alien than her Alex had ever been. The Seeker, the Time Lord, who stood victorious amongst the fallen of battle...
What did it mean? Who was he, now?
“I was wondering,” he eventually said, “would you maybe like to get some coffee?”
“But what about... this?” she asked, indicating the devastation and dead bodies surrounding them, and he shrugged.
“Don’t worry, Jack’ll clear up. But I’m guessing you want answers.”
She nodded; and then found herself walking with him - out of the car park, along roads and into the town proper, where cafés were still open. He didn’t speak, only now and again glancing at her with a strange look she couldn’t gauge - as if trying to puzzle her out, and failing. No attempt at explaining himself. No defensive arguments. Just... nothing. His new handsome profile didn’t give anything away, and she wondered whether she was safe. Yet where could she run? (And he was right, damn him. She wanted - no needed - answers. Wanted to understand what had happened to him. Why was he... so distant? He'd been like the sun, yet now he seemed as remote as a star in a far away galaxy.)
The world seemed normal. Everything was carrying on as if nothing had happened. Streets and cars and people walking around - as if the one she loved hadn’t died and been replaced by a stranger who was more of an alien than she had ever dreamed possible. Who could kill an enemy at point-blank range without a flicker of emotion...
“This one looks nice,” he said eventually, stopping by a Caffè Nero, and turned to her, waiting for her to respond.
When she didn’t, he took a step away from the door, studying her, confused. The light from the cafe caught his hair and made it shine like polished fire.
“What is it? Do you want to go somewhere else?”
She shook her head, trying to fight the sudden lump in her throat.
“It’s just... You died, and you didn’t tell me? I know we’ve not really been talking for... a good while, that we agreed I’d contact you, but I thought- Didn’t you think I had a right to know? I- I care about you in case you’d forgotten.”
He was watching her with those cool blue eyes she couldn’t read at all, his face so devoid of emotion that she wondered how this could be the same boy who had laid his hearts and soul in her hands.
She remembered him remarking - so very long ago it seemed now - how the Doctor could walk through war zones and scenes of mass murder without so much as a hair out of place. Looking at him now, she almost shivered. ‘Not a hair out of place’ indeed, after all the death... After all the killing, at his hand. He hadn’t seemed concerned at all.
“Oh my beautiful Allie,” he said eventually, voice so quiet she barely heard him as he reached up and gently stroked her hair the way someone would a child, the intimate gesture strangely at odds with his closed-off demeanour.
Then he seemed to catch himself, and let his hand fall away.
“I died more than ten years ago. I was 200 years old at the time, and you had been dead for more than a century. This is not a chance to pick up where we left off - it’s the end of the line.”
As the words sank in, illuminating yet devastating, he pushed the door to the cafe open.
“Do you still want that coffee?”
But his words didn’t register. Nor did anything else, as the whole world seemed to go strangely fuzzy around the edges and then she saw nothing more.
Chapter 33.
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Wow.
A glimpse at the future and something so sad. She really has lost her Alex to the alien. This will make her choice .... Hmmmm ... I don't know.
Will she attempt to rewrite the future and soften Alex or will she let Alex go, knowing what he'll become.
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Wow.
Those are *perfectly* good reactions! Especially as I've had this in my head for so, so long that I can't imagine what it's like reading it for the first time.
A glimpse at the future and something so sad. She really has lost her Alex to the alien.
It was always going to happen of course, but she never thought she'd see it. And of course witnessing it like this is not the best way...
This will make her choice .... Hmmmm ... I don't know.
Will she attempt to rewrite the future and soften Alex or will she let Alex go, knowing what he'll become.
Shhh... spoilers.
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This is his past and present. Could get messy.
At least Jack didn't have to suffer. Jack is possibly the only friend/family he has left. Helping him seems simple.
(For some reason, I picture Alex looking like John Hart. ::chuckles )
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This is his past and present. Could get messy.
Uh-huh.
At least Jack didn't have to suffer. Jack is possibly the only friend/family he has left. Helping him seems simple.
Indeed. And he (always) knows where he is with Jack. Their relationship is simple.
(For some reason, I picture Alex looking like John Hart. ::chuckles )
Well he looks like my icon. But here is a closeup, and here is a picture that better demonstrates how 'angular' he is now. And his coat is like the one Matt Smith's got... (How the collar accentuates the jawline and full length image.) (Yes, I have given all this entirely too much thought.)
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Matt's purple coat or green coat?
:)
(Maggie thinks he looks more like her brother now. Lol)
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It's so very specific. Couldn't believe it when I found a model that looked like him!
Matt's purple coat or green coat?
The blue one.
(Maggie thinks he looks more like her brother now. Lol)
Was he ginger? (He's thrilled to pieces that he's red haired btw. Especially because the Doctor always wanted to be, and hasn't been.)
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Alex being ginger .... :)
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And oh, ginger Alex. He's... bright (shining) and very focussed. But I'll get to that. ETA: Basically - First Seeker is (in part thanks to his upbringing) very unsure [which world he belongs to, which path he should take]. Second Seeker is a reaction against this.
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Her husband has always been jealous, even when he thought she'd met her final death.
I can see the difference between Alex and Alex2. The core is the same but Alex2 has seen more. I did love the interaction with Jack. 200 years later and he still charges in .... moron.
Alex trusts and depends on Jack's immortality. Good thing it will never fail him!
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I can see the difference between Alex and Alex2. The core is the same but Alex2 has seen more.
Nearly 200 years separates them. That makes a huge difference.
I did love the interaction with Jack. 200 years later and he still charges in .... moron.
Oh yes. Some things are constant. *g*
Alex trusts and depends on Jack's immortality. Good thing it will never fail him!
Which is why he attached himself like a limpet from the start!
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Perhaps the Doctor would have more control if he ever lived out the normal life span of his body. It always seemed that a normal Time Lord on Gallifrey aged at a rate of about 10 human years to every 100 years. I'm not sure where I got this idea though.
The Doctor, however, only regenerated once from old age. Every other time was traumatic injury or forced (yes a BBC executive counts as both.)
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*ponders* I figured the sky was the limit? The Doctor talks about an aunt with two heads...
The Doctor, however, only regenerated once from old age. Every other time was traumatic injury or forced (yes a BBC executive counts as both.)
This, I think, is also very important. He has traumatic deaths. Can't focus as he maybe should.
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Although, I don't doubt that rapid regeneration could result in genetic abnormalities.
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Mostly I tend to follow canon, and as canon is wildly inconsistent... We can believe what we want! :D
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(I am the queen of this, I can keep it up forever. *g*)
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(I will also admit that for a short moment I thought Seeker was going to retcon her and I just facepalmed and said dammit you're supposed to get smarter in your old age)
Also, that song is perfect for this chapter. It is also now stuck in my head. Thanks for that. :)
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Well then you're on the same page as Allison, so that's not a bad thing. It's supposed to be disorienting.
All I can figure out is this will have a great deal of influence on what Allison chooses, and I'm not quite sure which way she'll turn.
This bit of dialogue in Chapter 26 (the Seeker & Jack in the space bar) was foreshadowing btw:
The Seeker has always known what the future would hold, and Allison certainly sensed it, but there's a difference between guessing what the future would bring, and witnessing it firsthand...
(I will also admit that for a short moment I thought Seeker was going to retcon her and I just facepalmed and said dammit you're supposed to get smarter in your old age)
That... never ever occurred to me. Or him. You'll see why.
Also, that song is perfect for this chapter. It is also now stuck in my head. Thanks for that. :)
Totally my pleasure. Finding the right song for every chapter is a pure joy and this one... I was *thrilled*. These lines especially:
Well, we all fall in love
But we disregard the danger
Though we share so many secrets
There are some we never tell
Why were you so surprised
That you never saw the stranger
Did you ever let your lover see
The stranger in yourself?
You may never understand
How the stranger is inspired
But he isn't always evil
And he isn't always wrong
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Ohhhh...
*CRIES*
*SQUISHES YOU*
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Binge reading... it's a great thing, isn't it? (Am also just happy that you have the time to read and are able to be around. I was missing you and your updates. <3)
I just...omg...so much has changed and yet it remains the same and - Ohhhh...
Yup. It's all roller coaster from here on! (More or less. *g*)
*CRIES*
*hugs you* I'll work on the next chapter as soon as I have the time, promise. Thank you again for reading! xxx
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It's a lot to do with a new regeneration being a reaction against the previous one. It's not really a hero coat (it's quite pirate-y, and only knee length), it's more that he just loves the cut. 'Sharp' is the word that best describes his second regeneration, and the coat fits into that - it could equally well be a 'villain' coat, if you see what I mean.
ETA: The first Seeker is very chameleon-like, able to fit in almost anywhere. (Unless he gets seriously pissed off.) This is of course partly due to his upbringing, having had to lie so much, and as a consequence trying to work out who he is and what it all means. Second Seeker is the opposite - utterly unable to be anything except what/who he is. (The basic essence is the same, of course, but how that is presented is completely changed.)