[It's a short walk, of course. Alice doesn't really bother knocking, merely making her way through the house, as if it were her own, and went up to the eighth Doctor's room, knocking before peeking her head in.]
[His smile widens at all her gifts, and he reaches up to pat her hand.]
Thank you, Alice.
[Then his expression sobers a little bit, and he takes as deep a breath as he can manage, which is a wheezy little thing, but it will suffice for now.]
Tell me...did everyone else come back alright? I'm afraid I was...a little preoccupied.
Asgard has a habit of going a bit mad even when everyone is in the city. It's hard to tell when to stay and when to leave Asgard, sometimes you aren't given the choice.
[She pulls out a bowl and the thermos and pours it in, chicken soup with noodle stars. Alice thought it appropriate considering it was the Doctor. She even pulled out some fruit.]
[She frowned. For as smart as the Doctor was, sometimes he could be terribly stupid. Better? She wasn't as affected, certainly. She didn't need to sleep in Eleven's bed as much, if anymore. She could step outside and face the world.
Better, but not...]
It's still there.
I don't think anyone is ever going to be done being scared at dying, at having died and watching others die around you.
If there are those who aren't scared of dying, they're a unique sort.
But I'm here instead of my room.
But better isn't the right word for it either. It's not something to be better about, it's not like a cold when you're getting better and eventually you're over it.
[She shrugged.]
But plenty of people die all the time in Asgard. So maybe it should be treated like that. I don't know.
Death isn't supposed to... isn't supposed to be so... easy. It doesn't make sense. Maybe it sounds silly since you regenerate, you don't die, do you. You get mortally wounded and change.
I think... [She should leave. Just let him be mad at her and let him have his soup.]
What does it matter what I think? I think I should go, and you should get better because Doctors are leaving left and right lately, and Clementine needs you. [She stood up, putting the soup on the nightstand. Her eyes burning and blurring.]
You can't go too, so eat your soup and stop asking stupid, silly questions about whether I'm better about having died. [She scowled herself, not a pleasant look. She didn't want to talk about this. She didn't want to talk about any of this because she had seen how others handled dying, as if it were nothing, and it still bothered her. The Doctor asking if she were better was just another sign that this was supposed to be insignificant, apparently. She's supposed to get over it. She's supposed to just smile and move on because it's only death. A misunderstanding but still she hated it. She didn't understand why it was so easy for so many.
So why couldn't she get over it when everyone else clearly expected her too.
She was angry, upset, and so many other emotions she couldn't really place. Her father was gone, her mother was in a coma, this Doctor was sick. Her frustration wanted an outlet and targeted on the Doctor's stupid question, on him. But she knew he was sick, this wasn't the time and she was wicked and foolish too. So she wanted to go before she said something even more wicked. Angry, frustrated tears were spilling because she felt stupid. Why couldn't she get over this when everyone seemed to? Why did her Doctor have to leave? Why did Eight have to get sick?]
[It's the coughing fit that makes her jump and come out of her unjustified rage. She doesn't want him to cough. That wasn't the point. She frowns, but for a different reason as she comes close to him, anger and worried waged for dominance and worry won because she really didn't want anything to happen to him. She didn't want something to happen to him. He was one of the few she had left! Alice swallows and quickly wipes at her eyes.]
[Eight tries to take a slow, wheezing breath as the coughing subsides, taking the glass with a grateful nod. There is a moment's quiet as he waits for his breathing to go back to normal before he speaks again.]
I'm sorry, Alice.
[He supposes it doesn't matter what he means. Not anymore.]
[Meekly and without any protest, she comes forward. She goes to his arms and doesn't resist whatever he might do, even if it might be a spanking or a lash against the hands (though she's never known any of the Doctors to ever do such a thing).]
[She's stiff, if only for a milisecond, before her arms wrap around him tightly. She sniffles and holds on as best she can. It feels absolutely wonderful to be hugged because Eleven isn't here anymore and can't do it, neither can Clara or her mother. She's really trying her best to be strong about this, to not show anyone that it upsets her. Her eyes, still burning, become blurry, only for her cheeks to become wet and hot.
Oh.
Oh...
She hides her face in Eight's shoulder, feeling absolutely appalled at herself and actions and everything. So the hug is welcomed, is a reprieve, a relief.]
[Eight holds her against him and slides his fingers through her hair, trying to comfort her, and hoping that the wheezy way he's breathing today doesn't scare her too much. He's doing alright at the moment.
He doesn't mind the crying. Not one bit. It's not right for children to have to go through traumatic experiences stone-faced. They should be held and allowed to feel. If only Time Lord children had that. They probably wouldn't be quite so emotionally stunted if they'd been allowed to feel as intensely as they needed to as children. Not to say they didn't ever have loving parents; the Doctor and Brax's parents were wonderful, in fact. It's simply that the society doesn't really allow for emotional outbursts. Even from children.
So, for Alice, he'll simply hold her and let her cry out what she needs to let go of, without babbling on or giving her advice. Just a shoulder to cry on.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
[Action] 2/2
Doctor?
[Action]
Alice...come in, come in.
[Action]
I have something for you, that might make being stuck in bed all day a little nicer.
[Action]
Thank you, Alice.
[Then his expression sobers a little bit, and he takes as deep a breath as he can manage, which is a wheezy little thing, but it will suffice for now.]
Tell me...did everyone else come back alright? I'm afraid I was...a little preoccupied.
[Action]
I'm afraid... the house is a bit empty at the moment.
But we shouldn't speak of such things when you're unwell.
[Action]
[He reaches for a biscuit and nibbles.]
I take it nothing bad happened while we were away?
[Action]
[Action]
[Oh, yes, soup!]
Yes, of course, Alice. This is very kind of you, you know.
[Action]
[She pulls out a bowl and the thermos and pours it in, chicken soup with noodle stars. Alice thought it appropriate considering it was the Doctor. She even pulled out some fruit.]
You're supposed to take care of family.
no subject
[Oh, look at that. Stars! Eight stares at them for a moment, rather touched. And then, her words remind him of something.]
Speaking of that...are you feeling better, Alice?
no subject
Alice tilted her head.]
Regarding what, sir?
no subject
[He isn't quite sure how to say it without potentially upsetting her, but she really does seem better, so he'll hope for the best.]
no subject
Better, but not...]
It's still there.
I don't think anyone is ever going to be done being scared at dying, at having died and watching others die around you.
If there are those who aren't scared of dying, they're a unique sort.
But I'm here instead of my room.
But better isn't the right word for it either. It's not something to be better about, it's not like a cold when you're getting better and eventually you're over it.
[She shrugged.]
But plenty of people die all the time in Asgard. So maybe it should be treated like that. I don't know.
Death isn't supposed to... isn't supposed to be so... easy. It doesn't make sense. Maybe it sounds silly since you regenerate, you don't die, do you. You get mortally wounded and change.
no subject
He scowls and gives the girl a level look.]
Do you honestly think I find death so trivial, Alice?
no subject
You should be resting.
[Why did he even bring this up?]
I think... [She should leave. Just let him be mad at her and let him have his soup.]
What does it matter what I think? I think I should go, and you should get better because Doctors are leaving left and right lately, and Clementine needs you. [She stood up, putting the soup on the nightstand. Her eyes burning and blurring.]
You can't go too, so eat your soup and stop asking stupid, silly questions about whether I'm better about having died. [She scowled herself, not a pleasant look. She didn't want to talk about this. She didn't want to talk about any of this because she had seen how others handled dying, as if it were nothing, and it still bothered her. The Doctor asking if she were better was just another sign that this was supposed to be insignificant, apparently. She's supposed to get over it. She's supposed to just smile and move on because it's only death. A misunderstanding but still she hated it. She didn't understand why it was so easy for so many.
So why couldn't she get over it when everyone else clearly expected her too.
She was angry, upset, and so many other emotions she couldn't really place. Her father was gone, her mother was in a coma, this Doctor was sick. Her frustration wanted an outlet and targeted on the Doctor's stupid question, on him. But she knew he was sick, this wasn't the time and she was wicked and foolish too. So she wanted to go before she said something even more wicked. Angry, frustrated tears were spilling because she felt stupid. Why couldn't she get over this when everyone seemed to? Why did her Doctor have to leave? Why did Eight have to get sick?]
no subject
Alice.
[It starts off imploringly, but ends in a wheeze and a coughing fit. He holds his hands up, silently begging her to wait as he catches his breath.
When he speaks again, it's in a hoarse whisper.]
Alice, please...I didn't mean...
[What the hell can he say? How does one even explain?]
no subject
Doctor? [She holds a glass of water out to him.]
no subject
I'm sorry, Alice.
[He supposes it doesn't matter what he means. Not anymore.]
no subject
Please... Doctor, don't.
no subject
[He holds his arms out to her.]
no subject
no subject
No, instead he pulls her in for a hug, sighing heavily, if a bit raggedly.]
Nevermind, Alice. We'll leave that talk for another time.
no subject
Oh.
Oh...
She hides her face in Eight's shoulder, feeling absolutely appalled at herself and actions and everything. So the hug is welcomed, is a reprieve, a relief.]
no subject
He doesn't mind the crying. Not one bit. It's not right for children to have to go through traumatic experiences stone-faced. They should be held and allowed to feel. If only Time Lord children had that. They probably wouldn't be quite so emotionally stunted if they'd been allowed to feel as intensely as they needed to as children. Not to say they didn't ever have loving parents; the Doctor and Brax's parents were wonderful, in fact. It's simply that the society doesn't really allow for emotional outbursts. Even from children.
So, for Alice, he'll simply hold her and let her cry out what she needs to let go of, without babbling on or giving her advice. Just a shoulder to cry on.]