for magicalskeptic: A trip to the ocean

[rude_not_ginger]

"You wanted an ocean, have I got an ocean for you."

The Doctor darted around the console and scooped his jacket up from where it hung on one of the TARDIS pillars. He absolutely loved this bit. The first trip to an alien world with someone who didn't even believe in other worlds until now. Very little was more exciting.

"Now! We've got breathable atmosphere, low radiation, and a beautiful summer day. The waters of the Greeio Malgoon are purple in the summer, which is when they're the warmest and the safest. I'd have taken you to them in the winter when they're blue, but the water's acid content gets a bit high and ends up spewing out strange creatures with eyes that shoot lasers. Green lasers, they disintegrate you without much warning. Very technicolor world, the Greeo Malgoon."

He shrugged. "Still! In the summer, peak of tourist season, it's the most brilliant place for a visit."

Comments

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"I don't know!" the Doctor replies. He grabs for his coat, but it's quickly pulled away from him by the torrent of water. His sonic is still in that coat!

Another rush of water comes in, and he finds himself losing his footing. The leather chair and the lamp are washed away, and the light from the lamp flickers again, the room quickly going completely dark, and then illuminated by the dying bulb.

"Block the water!" he tries. "Help me move this bookshelf!"

It's all he can think will work.

[magicalskeptic.livejournal.com]

The water, now well above her knees, Morgana wades over as quickly as the rushing current will allow.

The flaws are readily evident in this plan, when she almost loses her footing -- a rare event indeed.

And the light finally loses it's battle with the water and goes out, plunging the room into darkness.

"Doctor?!" She's lost sight of him entirely, and cannot hear the regular sounds of life over the water but she does feel what she is sure is the bookshelf he indicated. "I have it," she announces, in case he cannot see as well in this darkness, as she can.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"I'm here!" he calls over the rushing water. "Morgana, take out your sonic and use it as a torch!"

He says the word in his natural language that means 'electronic lighting device', and he thinks he might need to reword. But no, no, the colloquialism should make sense to her, too. He worries about his own sonic and the things he has in his pockets, but he can't fret about them. He's got to move the bookshelf.

But where? It's so utterly dark in the room.

[magicalskeptic.livejournal.com]

The water nearing her waist, she was already fishing for her might-be-a-screwdriver, before the Doctor tells her to, just to make sure it doesn't get lost in the current.

Morgana also tucks in the TARDIS key, which she wears around her neck on a chain, into her dress, as she's not sure the enchantment works with natural disasters.

She turns it on, and though she may never love the sound the way the Doctor clearly does, having a bit of light makes her smile briefly, out of relief.

It does make it though, a bit awkward to get a hold of the bookshelf. "We need to push it away from the wall, or else it will never move." Perhaps the force of the current might help them here.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

The light is dim, but it's far better than the utter darkness of before. The water's just about at his waist, too, and it feels like it's rising faster.

The bookshelf is too heavy, he decides. The books only make it worse.

"Tip it forward," he says. "Knock the books off, we should be able to drag it!"

This isn't going to work. He knows it even as he says it. They need another way out. They need any way out.

[magicalskeptic.livejournal.com]

Well, if it's at his waist, that would be much, much higher on Morgana, as she frantically knocks the books off, the light from her might-be-a-screwdriver waving about as she does so.

Without thinking, she ducks her head below the water, to get the books on the lower shelf.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

The light from her sonic dims, and the Doctor is left in the dark, frozen and panicked. Three knocks. He only heard three knocks, so he's not in trouble, but Morgana could be.

"Morgana!" he cries out, fear seizing him. Should he look for her? Where could she have gone?

He grips the side of the bookshelf and gives it a tug. Most of the books are gone, but it's firmly attached to the wall.

"Oh, no."

[magicalskeptic.livejournal.com]

Morgana does not hear him, but resurfaces, to find the water is three-quarters up her chest. She has to hold her hand above her head, to avoid spray from the rushing water obscuring their dim light. "The books are gone, from the lower shelves. We should be able to move it now."

She might sound rather proud of this achievement.

Trying to get a grip on the back of the bookshelf, when it does not move, Morgana looks at the Doctor.

She is not going to panic, she tells herself.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

He decides not to scold her for trying to help, but makes a mental note to hug her very thoroughly later. She's all right, neither of them have drowned, but there's no way they're moving this bookshelf.

"Climb up the side," he instructs. "Get to higher ground. I'll try to see if I can get through the door!"

He can't see where the door is, and the light from the sonic isn't bright enough to tell him where to go, but he aims for roundabout where the water is coming from.

[magicalskeptic.livejournal.com]

Morgana is not going to climb up a bookshelf and wait, while the Doctor, who has wound straight through his shoulder, does something.

"Doctor," she says seriously, over the rushing water, "I can swim." She's not going to mention she is in no way dressed for it. Gowns do tend to get tangled.

"We are not separating." So, instead of climbing up the bookshelf, she follows him. "Whatever is trying to kill us wanted us in here, because there is no other way out." Of that, she is convinced.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

He wants to argue with her, but she's right. He knows she is. So he reaches back and takes her hand, despite the water.

"Sticking together, then," he says.

The water's moving too fast, though. Even with his long, strong legs, he can't get close without feeling himself being pushed off. He releases her hand and tries to swim towards it.

"It's too strong!" he says. "Unless we can shut off the water flow!"

[magicalskeptic.livejournal.com]

Morgana holds on for dear life. The water is up to her chin now, and every step she takes is half treading water. She's afraid if she lets go, they will be separated.

Although -- "Doctor, you are injured, if I could make my way to the other side of the door, I could pull you through." She doesn't think his injured shoulder could handle it.

Since they do not know where the water source is, other than outside the door, it's the only thing she can think of.

That does, of course, mean separating, contradicting her previous statement.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"There's no door out there," he says. "There's no windows, no escape. We'd have to stay completely under water the whole swim back to the little girl's room!" he calls. "And even then, there wasn't a door out of that!"

He tries to map exactly where things began. This place is a maze. This place shouldn't be this way. And most importantly---

"There shouldn't be water in here!" he says. "Not this colour, not this type! It doesn't make any---"

He loses his footing and falls under the water for a moment. He kicks up and keeps his head above water.

[magicalskeptic.livejournal.com]

Morgana was simply hoping getting back out into the hallway would give them a chance to escape the rush of water; the hallway, hopefully being not quite as full, or as deep.

"Would that not be one floor --" she's about to say up, since there was that fall, into the pit where the little girl's skeleton was found, but when he loses his footing, and goes under, he pulls her with him.

In a frantic attempt to stay above water. She lets go of his hand.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

He takes in a gasp of air, and spins about. Morgana. She's gone. Under the water somewhere. Taking in a breath, he drops below the water, looking for her. Where is she? It's pitch black under the roaring water, apart from the small blue light. The light. Morgana's sonic.

He kicks off of the wall towards it, reaching out his hand for hers. She's in a ridiculous gown, it can't possibly be easy to swim in.

[magicalskeptic.livejournal.com]

It's not ridiculous, but for her, it's appropriate, even though Morgana did agree to travel, unchaperoned with the Doctor (something she chooses not to think about, often). The problem is that with three layers, it's tangled around her feet, so she's been trying to take off the overlay, whilst not losing a grip on her might-be-a-screwdriver.

Just as it's off, she feels the Doctor take her hand.

Once at the surface -- the water well above their heads now, and only a few feet from the ceiling, she gasps and sputters.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

The water's gone well above the door, now, and try as he may, the Doctor can't find the ground with his feet. The ceiling is getting ever closer. He looks up at it, and down at the water.

"Drowning!" he says, almost exasperated. "Not how I expected to go! I thought there'd be some epic battle or some sort of a monster! Not just plain old water blocking out all the air!"

But Morgana. He's dooming her to this death. He should never have brought her here. He should never have come into this building. And now, here they are, about to die.

"I'm so sorry."

[magicalskeptic.livejournal.com]

Morgana's not in the mood for apologies. In fact, she's still trying to figure a way out of things.

There's water rushing through the door from who knows where. It had to fill up hallway in order for it not to be rushing out again. There are doors that appear and disappear and none of this makes any sense. It's completely irrational, and, from everything Morgana understands, impossible.

"Doctor how is any of this --" She is about to say possible, because it isn't, when she disappears back under the water, so quickly it would look like something's pulled her.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

"Morgana!" he cries. It's the tentacle beast again, it has to be. But how would it survive here? How could it? He takes in a deep breath and dives under. He can't see her. It's too dark, and the blue light is gone. Maybe she was pulled out the door?

He swims back up, takes in another breath, and pushes himself towards the door. He has to find her. Where is she?

He can't make it to the door, the current is too strong. Where did she go? How did she vanish? He surfaces again, and the water is very nearly to the ceiling.

"Morgana!"

[magicalskeptic.livejournal.com]

There are a few seconds where Morgana is standing on the floor, and then convinced she's in water, and then not again, so she needs a few moments to orient herself. None of this is real. As long as she keeps telling herself that, it she stands, firmly on the floor, the furniture all back in place, and even the lamp flickering.

But it's the Doctor that has her attention now, as he's on the floor, behind the chair, an unearthly gurgle and gasp being the only sounds she's hearing. "Doctor?" She puts one one hand on his side, and the other on his cheek -- the same place she put it earlier, when she left the red mark, which is no longer there. She shakes him a little.

"Doctor, you have to listen to me, none of this is real. Please, listen to me." She pleads with him.

She looks to his shoulder, and it is still bleeding. As much as she tries to tell herself, that is still very real.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

He's drowning. He can't get in any air. He can't breathe. Water coming from nowhere is filling up the room and his lungs and he's going to drown. Panic is far out the door. He's about to die, he's dying, he's going to die, right here.

Which means somewhere down there, Morgana's probably already dead. He almost feels like he can feel her touch on his face or hear her voice. But she's dead, she has to be.

The thought feels much worse than the thought of his own upcoming death.

[magicalskeptic.livejournal.com]

The gasping is getting worse and Morgana's desperate to figure out something, anything that will get the Doctor's attention. "Doctor," she shakes him again, a little harder, but is wary of the shoulder injury. "Please, listen. The water, it is not real. You are fine."

He is not listening, and the gasps sound like they are getting weaker now, instead of more desperate. "Doctor, you cannot let them convince you." She moves her one hand from his side and now holds his holds his face. Even dying it is so much cooler than hers, and while she usually likes that, at the moment, it's feeling too deathly.

Impulsively, she leans forward and kisses his forehead, the skin feeling too cold, at the moment, for her liking. "Doctor, please."

Warmth -- it's the one thing the water could never, ever produce, so, in sheer desperation, to convince him she's there, Morgana lays down beside him, curled, as best she can, and careful of the shoulder wound, into him.

His clothing is clean and dry, save for the blood, and she lays her head on his chest, and takes one of his hands, squeezing it.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

He's drowning, he's dying, and suddenly he feels warm. It's a warmth on his head, and then over his hearts and on his hand. He thinks it must be the regenerative energy building up inside of him, but that shouldn't have started, not yet. That would be impossible.

He can believe that water comes from nowhere. He can believe in impossible currents. He can believe that tons of water from a different planet can arrive on another world without warning. But he can't believe that his body will start regenerating before he dies.

Therefore, he can't be regenerating. Which means he shouldn't be warm, which means he must be somewhere else.

He takes in a sharp gasp of air as he finds himself suddenly dry on the floor to the library, Morgana lying atop him, her head on his chest and her hand on his.

"Morgana?" he gasps.

[magicalskeptic.livejournal.com]

The Doctor's gasp startles her, and, for a second, she's terrified it's a last gasp, though she can hear his hearts still beating. It causes Morgana to grip his hand just a bit tighter, until he says her name.

When he does, she shifts her head to look at him, but she is not entirely sure he's out of danger. "The water, is not real. If you doubt that, even for a second, it will come back," she rushes to explain to him.

She sits up, but still keeps a firm grip on this hand, but whether or not it is to keep the Doctor convinced she's really there, or herself convinced the Doctor isn't dying, is something she won't think about. "Your shoulder. I cannot convince myself it is not real. Perhaps you will have better luck?" Morgana's been hoping that the wound is as fictional as the water, but isn't entirely sure.

Excuse her voice for being a bit shaky. Moments ago, she thought the Doctor was about to die and that thought was far more terrifying than the fictional water.

[rude-not-ginger.livejournal.com]

The water wasn't real. That makes sense, he thinks, now that he's out of the water. It always makes sense after the fact.

He moves his shoulder carefully. "I think it is real," he says. "Much easier to built a turret than to flood a room with water. Or psychic energy, whichever they've used in this case."

He reaches up and puts a hand to her shoulder. She looks uninjured, but he'd be lying if he pretended he wasn't worried.

"We have to get out of here," he says.