Bitter Sweet
Prologue
He could feel her touch… her breath. Hear her laugh… hear her scream… the beat of her heart. The Void… The Howling. He could smell the cleanliness … the salt… the breeze rushing through him. The girl… dark hair. The cold metal… the gale… the wide expanse of sand. Dårlig Ulv Stranden…Blaidd Drwg… Torchwood. Her touch… her scream… her lips… her tears. Dårlig Ulv Stranden… Bad Wolf B…
And then he breathed. His eyes flickered open. He sat bolt upright. His hands flew to his forehead. Sweat… cold. He drew in oxygen, filling his lungs, oxygenating his blood; the mist shifted. He got out of the bed and walked unsteadily to his bathroom. He leaned on the basin… breathing deeply. The tap ran… cold water, flowing through his hands. He cupped them… and a pool of cool water filled the void. The Void… The Howling. He splashed the water on his face… again and again; trying to wash the confusion away. He took the towel hanging on the wall, squashing the soft pile next to his face, soaking up the drops of water. He sighed. Pushing his hair out of his face, he looked up, into the mirror above the ivory china bowl.
He looked into his reflection, and it looked into him. Both saw nothing. It looked like him, but it didn’t feel like him. So many feelings, he had felt them all before… grief, loss, jealousy, pain, relief… but never like this, never all at once. And that only led to one thing – confusion. And he was never confused. Not really, not like this. Occasionally he was mildly puzzled by his surroundings… but this; this was something new. He could barely think straight and everything reminded him. He’d never been like this before. This wasn’t like him. He was ‘The Oncoming Storm’. He was ‘Ka Faraq Gatri’. He was… He sighed again and looked into the eyes of his reflection, an attempt to be determined and strong.
“I am The Doctor.”
And then he breathed. His eyes flickered open. He sat bolt upright. His hands flew to his forehead. Sweat… cold. He drew in oxygen, filling his lungs, oxygenating his blood; the mist shifted. He got out of the bed and walked unsteadily to his bathroom. He leaned on the basin… breathing deeply. The tap ran… cold water, flowing through his hands. He cupped them… and a pool of cool water filled the void. The Void… The Howling. He splashed the water on his face… again and again; trying to wash the confusion away. He took the towel hanging on the wall, squashing the soft pile next to his face, soaking up the drops of water. He sighed. Pushing his hair out of his face, he looked up, into the mirror above the ivory china bowl.
He looked into his reflection, and it looked into him. Both saw nothing. It looked like him, but it didn’t feel like him. So many feelings, he had felt them all before… grief, loss, jealousy, pain, relief… but never like this, never all at once. And that only led to one thing – confusion. And he was never confused. Not really, not like this. Occasionally he was mildly puzzled by his surroundings… but this; this was something new. He could barely think straight and everything reminded him. He’d never been like this before. This wasn’t like him. He was ‘The Oncoming Storm’. He was ‘Ka Faraq Gatri’. He was… He sighed again and looked into the eyes of his reflection, an attempt to be determined and strong.
“I am The Doctor.”