"Days like crazy-paving"
Jul. 7th, 2012 11:24 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
amine_eyesTitle:"Days like crazy-paving"
Fandoms: Horrible Histories, Doctor Who
Characters: Dr.William Beatty, The Doctor
Genre: General
Rating: G
Beta: None
Warnings: None
Summary: The first time the Doctor meets Beatty, Beatty is an old man and knows the Doctor has two hearts, while the Doctor has no idea who he is. But the first time Beatty meets the Doctor, well ...
A/N: Written a ridiculous age ago, because the image of Beatty snarking his way across the universe along with the Doctor was too beautiful to behold :D
The first time they meet, Beatty is celebrating not getting court martialled again, the Doctor is trying to stop Earth being taken over again, and Beatty ends up drinking far too much in order to forget the feeling of two hearts beating in the Doctor’s chest as he tries to stem the bleeding -
No, wait.
That’s the wrong order.
The first time the Doctor meets Beatty, is when Beatty is an old man and knows that the Doctor has two hearts, while the Doctor is old (but not as old as later), and doesn’t know about the time they ran for miles along the golden beaches of Arcadia, while the three suns glowed in the ever blue sky.
But the first time Beatty meets the Doctor -
For months afterwards, the Doctor will insist that he didn’t know Beatty would be in that pub that night, celebrating the fact that he’s managed to not kill Nelson yet, despite Nelson’s infuriating ability to defy death three times a day.
For months afterwards, the Doctor will insist that it was pure coincidence he knew Beatty’s name, knew what Beatty was doing there, and knew that if he mentioned the words “it’ll be dangerous,” Beatty would roll his eyes and come along anyway to help him.
For months afterwards, he will insist that it was simply a coincidence, he was just landing there as it was the perfect place for him to refuel the TARDIS.
But when he sees Beatty’s awestruck face as he walks in the TARDIS doors, the Doctor throws a brand new journal into Beatty’s hands, and suggests that he should probably write all this down.
Just in case.
And so he does - in blue ink from Britain as he’s gazing into the bottom of his regrettably empty glass, wondering what on earth happened the first time he met the Doctor, in black ink from Rome as he watches the Doctor shake hands with Julius Caesar and Beatty tries not to rant too much about the standards of medicine in those days, in bright green ink from Arbros IV that glows in the dark and lights Beatty’s way through the tunnels beneath the Emperor’s palace as he tries to stop the imminent civil war.
He writes on paper, papyrus, stone, sheepskin, and the skin of something that looked uncannily like an octopus before it shed its skin and became the stuff of Beatty’s nightmares.
He even ends up with a slab of slate from the depths of a Welsh mine tied onto the journal with Silurian string, with the words “DOCTOR FIND ME OR I WILL HIT YOU SO HARD ALL YOUR REGENERATIONS WILL FEEL IT” etched into it with a knife.
The journal is burnt - from the Fire of London, where he and the Doctor joined in the bucket chain, and Beatty almost ended up in bed with an attractive man with a moustache before the Doctor hauled him away (saying something about “destroying the fabric of the universe” and “Sotherby will kill me”) - watermarked - from the walk under the ever-blue sea of Atlantis, as Beatty gazed upon the sea-horses big enough to ride, and the Doctor smiled almost wistfully as he talked of the time he and a girl with blonde hair and bright smile travelled across the stars - torn - from multiple attempts by various prison officers to take it away from Beatty - bloodstained - from Beatty’s retaliation - and on one blank page, an impression of tear drop splatters across the paper.
(Beatty refuses to go into museums after that day.)
(The Doctor doesn’t push it.)
It’s taken everywhere - the mountains of Ittraxia, the beaches of Castor VII, the gleaming interior of a starship (where Beatty makes firm friends with a man from Georgia and the Doctor somehow manages not to explode from joy at meeting a Scotsman as mad and brilliant as he is), the wooden walls of Nelson’s navy and the marble walls of Ancient Rome - everywhere and anywhen Beatty goes, the journal and some form of writing implement goes with him.
(The Doctor never finds the pens Beatty stole from Barclays.)
And when it comes time for Beatty to walk out the TARDIS doors for the final time, he turns to the Doctor, and presents the battered old journal to him.
“If I keep this, they’ll lock me away,” he says with a rueful smile, and the Doctor doesn’t take it.
“It’s not the right time,” he replies, and Beatty frowns, still holding out the journal.
“And what is?” he says, “the end of the world?”
The Doctor smiles, and shakes his head.
“Give it to me later William”, he says (for he’s never called Beatty by his last name, never called anyone by their last name if he can help it), “I’ll come back and collect it, don’t worry.”
Beatty snorts with laughter, hoisting his bag (stuffed to the brim with clean clothes and items he’s collected over the years) onto his shoulder.
“And when have you ever been on time?” he says, laughing as he stuffs the journal into his pocket, and going to open the TARDIS doors.
He pauses, turns back to the Doctor.
“This is Portsmouth Dockyard, September 1805, isn’t it?”
“Do you doubt my navigation skills?” the Doctor says, mock-affront in his voice, and it only makes Beatty laugh harder, waving as he steps back into England, back into his life with a few more scars, grazes and grey hairs than before the first time he stepped through the TARDIS doors.
“Goodbye Doctor, till the next time!”
The Doctor keeps the smile on his face till the doors shut, only dropping it once he’s alone again in the control room.
“Good luck,” he whispers into the silent room, conscious of the lack of sarky comments and awestruck wonder, conscious of the lack of medical journals lying about the room, and for a moment, he gives in to the ever-lasting pain in his chest.
But only for a moment.
“Come on Sexy,” he says, bounding to the control column, flicking switches and twisting dials, “Off to the next adventure! Let’s go … anywhere!”
And as the TARDIS de-materialises into the vortex, as the Doctor once again makes his way amongst the stars and planets and galaxies and nebulas, as he once again travels the days as though they’re made of crazy-paving, he makes a note on a post-it:
Buy William a journal.
Fandoms: Horrible Histories, Doctor Who
Characters: Dr.William Beatty, The Doctor
Genre: General
Rating: G
Beta: None
Warnings: None
Summary: The first time the Doctor meets Beatty, Beatty is an old man and knows the Doctor has two hearts, while the Doctor has no idea who he is. But the first time Beatty meets the Doctor, well ...
A/N: Written a ridiculous age ago, because the image of Beatty snarking his way across the universe along with the Doctor was too beautiful to behold :D
The first time they meet, Beatty is celebrating not getting court martialled again, the Doctor is trying to stop Earth being taken over again, and Beatty ends up drinking far too much in order to forget the feeling of two hearts beating in the Doctor’s chest as he tries to stem the bleeding -
No, wait.
That’s the wrong order.
The first time the Doctor meets Beatty, is when Beatty is an old man and knows that the Doctor has two hearts, while the Doctor is old (but not as old as later), and doesn’t know about the time they ran for miles along the golden beaches of Arcadia, while the three suns glowed in the ever blue sky.
But the first time Beatty meets the Doctor -
For months afterwards, the Doctor will insist that he didn’t know Beatty would be in that pub that night, celebrating the fact that he’s managed to not kill Nelson yet, despite Nelson’s infuriating ability to defy death three times a day.
For months afterwards, the Doctor will insist that it was pure coincidence he knew Beatty’s name, knew what Beatty was doing there, and knew that if he mentioned the words “it’ll be dangerous,” Beatty would roll his eyes and come along anyway to help him.
For months afterwards, he will insist that it was simply a coincidence, he was just landing there as it was the perfect place for him to refuel the TARDIS.
But when he sees Beatty’s awestruck face as he walks in the TARDIS doors, the Doctor throws a brand new journal into Beatty’s hands, and suggests that he should probably write all this down.
Just in case.
And so he does - in blue ink from Britain as he’s gazing into the bottom of his regrettably empty glass, wondering what on earth happened the first time he met the Doctor, in black ink from Rome as he watches the Doctor shake hands with Julius Caesar and Beatty tries not to rant too much about the standards of medicine in those days, in bright green ink from Arbros IV that glows in the dark and lights Beatty’s way through the tunnels beneath the Emperor’s palace as he tries to stop the imminent civil war.
He writes on paper, papyrus, stone, sheepskin, and the skin of something that looked uncannily like an octopus before it shed its skin and became the stuff of Beatty’s nightmares.
He even ends up with a slab of slate from the depths of a Welsh mine tied onto the journal with Silurian string, with the words “DOCTOR FIND ME OR I WILL HIT YOU SO HARD ALL YOUR REGENERATIONS WILL FEEL IT” etched into it with a knife.
The journal is burnt - from the Fire of London, where he and the Doctor joined in the bucket chain, and Beatty almost ended up in bed with an attractive man with a moustache before the Doctor hauled him away (saying something about “destroying the fabric of the universe” and “Sotherby will kill me”) - watermarked - from the walk under the ever-blue sea of Atlantis, as Beatty gazed upon the sea-horses big enough to ride, and the Doctor smiled almost wistfully as he talked of the time he and a girl with blonde hair and bright smile travelled across the stars - torn - from multiple attempts by various prison officers to take it away from Beatty - bloodstained - from Beatty’s retaliation - and on one blank page, an impression of tear drop splatters across the paper.
(Beatty refuses to go into museums after that day.)
(The Doctor doesn’t push it.)
It’s taken everywhere - the mountains of Ittraxia, the beaches of Castor VII, the gleaming interior of a starship (where Beatty makes firm friends with a man from Georgia and the Doctor somehow manages not to explode from joy at meeting a Scotsman as mad and brilliant as he is), the wooden walls of Nelson’s navy and the marble walls of Ancient Rome - everywhere and anywhen Beatty goes, the journal and some form of writing implement goes with him.
(The Doctor never finds the pens Beatty stole from Barclays.)
And when it comes time for Beatty to walk out the TARDIS doors for the final time, he turns to the Doctor, and presents the battered old journal to him.
“If I keep this, they’ll lock me away,” he says with a rueful smile, and the Doctor doesn’t take it.
“It’s not the right time,” he replies, and Beatty frowns, still holding out the journal.
“And what is?” he says, “the end of the world?”
The Doctor smiles, and shakes his head.
“Give it to me later William”, he says (for he’s never called Beatty by his last name, never called anyone by their last name if he can help it), “I’ll come back and collect it, don’t worry.”
Beatty snorts with laughter, hoisting his bag (stuffed to the brim with clean clothes and items he’s collected over the years) onto his shoulder.
“And when have you ever been on time?” he says, laughing as he stuffs the journal into his pocket, and going to open the TARDIS doors.
He pauses, turns back to the Doctor.
“This is Portsmouth Dockyard, September 1805, isn’t it?”
“Do you doubt my navigation skills?” the Doctor says, mock-affront in his voice, and it only makes Beatty laugh harder, waving as he steps back into England, back into his life with a few more scars, grazes and grey hairs than before the first time he stepped through the TARDIS doors.
“Goodbye Doctor, till the next time!”
The Doctor keeps the smile on his face till the doors shut, only dropping it once he’s alone again in the control room.
“Good luck,” he whispers into the silent room, conscious of the lack of sarky comments and awestruck wonder, conscious of the lack of medical journals lying about the room, and for a moment, he gives in to the ever-lasting pain in his chest.
But only for a moment.
“Come on Sexy,” he says, bounding to the control column, flicking switches and twisting dials, “Off to the next adventure! Let’s go … anywhere!”
And as the TARDIS de-materialises into the vortex, as the Doctor once again makes his way amongst the stars and planets and galaxies and nebulas, as he once again travels the days as though they’re made of crazy-paving, he makes a note on a post-it:
Buy William a journal.
