Rage, Rage, Against the Dying of the Light

Movement was slow, surreal, programmed, and doing that, doing just that felt so fluid and easy yet rusted and in need of oil. How could that be possible? How could that contrast exist? Mal shifted her body a small degree in the Doctor's direction, relying on her eyes to move the rest of the way. She suppose the TARDIS's arrival had been noticed yet the petite girl's brain hardly functioned in making a connection. The images, the sounds, the smells, the feelings kept firing at her, forcing her to question everything that went on around her. Yet surprise registered somewhere in her brain at the sight of him. He was standing in the very room she was in. Hadn't she left him? Hadn't she found a suitable hiding location? Obviously not since he found her. A different version of him had promised he'd always find her no matter where she ran off to and yet it was a Doctor that wasn't hers who always managed to be there. Always managed to wriggle his way in her life. And, in a way, Mal didn't mind.

Just to contradict her previous thought, Mal suddenly stood up in her stupor, the chair screeching on the ground as it was forced back. Doctor.. She lipped the word, unable to push the proper amount of air through her throat to operate her vocal cords. Blankly standing there for a heavy moment, Mal snapped to life, "Doctor." Better. That was better and audible.

In a self-conscious manner she began to pat at her clothes and comb through the rat nest of her hair only to get her fingers tangled. She gave up her feat of trying to appear better and just stood rigidly. "How did you find me? Why are you here?" The questions were concerned for her own sake, desperate in her state of shock and fear. But something drew her away from thoughts of herself, touching her shoulder and guiding her along another path. Taking in his posture she realized something wasn't quite right. It wasn't with her or her situation, but with him. The Doctor. Something wasn't quite right about the Doctor.

"Why are you here?" She asked again but in a gentler tone that displayed great passion for her old friend and concern for his presence. Mal didn't think the Doctor would just show up like this, something was on his mind and he thought she could help. How could a rotten stud support the mechanism as a whole? Helpfulness was never a strength of hers but the newly aroused sense of protectiveness was stirring up the need to try. He had helped her and this would be a way to repay her debt to him as well as serve a man who gave until he had nothing.

The level of intensity of the situation made itself known by the Doctor's actions. It was so uncharacteristic, so painful to watch it forced Mal's face into a grimace. She always knew that damn smile was a veil of his true emotions, but seeing it slip away and shatter to the ground was a completely separate situation she hoped she never had to bare witness to again. The way he heavily sank himself into the chair stabbed a knife through her heart. Unknowing to what she could do, Mal stood there staring. The silent moment dragged on and on until, somehow, the Doctor dragged his eyes up to look at her.

The deep, dark, haunted look that resided within those stormy irises caused her instincts to take over. Mal's brain was rubbish, but her body knew what to do. Snatching the chair behind her, Mal dragged it along until it sat next to his. She sat in it and reached out for his hand, firmly taking one of his in both of hers as she leaned closer to the table but examined his face with tired eyes. There was nothing she could say to him that would make it go away and she wasn't about to force him to talk. What he needed was a moment to collect himself and, given enough time, he would either talk to her or leave as quietly as he came.

Mal was frowning at the mention of Robin. The young girl was with him? And he was so distraught. Oh hell, what happened? Something to do with Sonya. Of course. Mal thought of the day Robin went with the crazed Time Lady. Of course the brown haired girl hadn't a clue what had transpired but it wasn't anything good if the fact the redhead had tried to kick Mal's arse was anything to go by.

The Doctor's grip on her hand was painful but she didn't complain or try to pull away. Mal allowed it and even invited the pain to keep her, in her own way, grounded. This wasn't just an image, this was real. It was happening. The pain was different, ached with reality. It also allowed her to focus on just how much pain he was in. How he had come to her in trust and rawness to her. To her.

It took great effort for Mal not to gasp or make an appalled expression of shock to the information Robin had been treated like a slave. What exactly had happened to Sonya to make her do such a thing to a friend? To anyone, really? What had possible possessed that woman into doing something so heartless, cruel, twisted? To a little girl no less! It was absolutely disgusting and repulsive but Mal pushed that aside as she listened to the Doctor verbal beatings on himself.

Why couldn't she just tell him to shush and stop? He'd done so much for people that Mal didn't see why he'd talk to harshly about himself. It wasn't his fault, it was Sonya's. No one could have relied on him to be the hero all the time. It wasn't fair and it was unrealistic.

His laugh made her wince. The sound wasn't pleasant at all and she took in a large breath, releasing it heavily. She kept her one hand grasped in his and used her other to wrap it around his shoulders, resting her head against him and shutting her eyes tightly.

"Doctor, this isn't your fault. I can't sit here and let you blame yourself like I have for years. I'm sorry for letting you keep thinking this. The only people to blame are those doing the wrong. You were not wrong at all, do you hear me? I-it's not always up to you to stop every bad thing from happening. " With a pause she whispered the next words hoarsely, drawing them up from her own brooding from earlier, "The point of helping someone isn't to prevent the situation it's to be there when they're struggling with the terms they have to accept."

When the Doctor moved his shoulders Mal moved her head. Her arm retreated to just rest between his shoulder blades. Poor man. The things he must have dealt with and seen in his excruciatingly long life and yet Mal never once thought about all the hell he had experienced throughout it all. But this meeting made it apparent she didn't even know the half of it. She was almost afraid to poke at it in fear of what she might discover about him. Not necessarily the things he's done but the things that plague his mind. If her friends hurt, Mal hurts, and she wasn't sure she was stable enough to feel any more than she already was. Yet she didn't pull away, she didn't stop him and tell him to get out while Mal still had some resemblance of sanity for the day. She listened and returned her second hand to his when the Doctor's grip became near bone crushing.

"Oh, Doc. Then explain it, just say it. It'll make you feel better to let it out. Even if it's in the form of anger. Just let it go." Mal sighed heavily and wanted to rub his back or do something besides just sit here and hold his hand but didn't exactly feel he would appreciate it.

I don't know how it feels, no. But my imagination is quite clear. Heh, you have no idea... nor do I know what being the cause of genocide is like. But I will soon enough.

Mal's eyes glazed as she turned to look at the pitiful counters of the kitchen. She could still hear the Doctor's voice though it started to sound like an echo down a long, narrow hallway. The blame he set firmly in his foundation was heavy, even dragging her low and reminding her of her own unstable build. Everything was hanging by a thread and she wasn't sure who was threatening to sever the final frays but the sharp edge was there, awaiting the cut.

Absently she reached out and stroked a hand over his head, not really there mentally any more. "You saved me so I don't understand why you think everything's your fault. I'm here now. Safe." Mal blinked hard as the feeling of absence crashed into her, taking over her senses. Her nose twitched and a voice played out in her head, 'His fault.'

Mal snapped her eyes over to the Doctor as he stood. She could feel anger rise, frustration itching to present itself. So much self pity and blame it was starting to make her ill. That's probably what set her off. "Oh ho! Yeah, I see how it is crystal clear, Doctor. You're so important that the whole bloody universe revolves around you. You are the sun of the solar system known as existence, aren't you? Of course Sonya turned crazy because of something you did. Of course you would think that! News flash, people change and misfortunes happen and a lot of the time it's just the accumulation of crap that has piled up in someone's life. Not just one, single person. Not just because of you. As for me? If you honestly think I'm here because of you then you're even more daft then you bloody look. I'm here because I decided to be."

She grit her teeth, nostrils flaring as she took in a large breath to steady herself. Mal realized her hands were in fists, they were shaking, and when the highly emotional fog cleared from her brain she realized the Doctor was on his knees before her. Regret and sadness replaced her irrational rage and Mal instantly put a hand on his cheek, the other on his shoulder. Before she said anything a thought flashed through her mind, startling her. She thought that this right here felt good and right, how it should be. It came in the peppery whisper she repeatedly heard since her last night with her Doctor. After grimacing slightly, Mal spoke up, "Yes, you can be. Like now, right now. It's selfish to think you are the sole reason any bad ever happens. I'm sorry to say it but you are not the most important creature in this universe. I highly doubt anyone holds that title. Yet. The thought caused her to hesitate before she continued on, "But you do so much good that shows your compassion. Your intentions are good no matter what your actions are. And selfishness can be forgotten. You just have to... put in some energy to change it. You can start by forgiving yourself, you're not to blame, okay?"

Mal let out a shuttering breath as she held his head against her and tightened her grip on his shoulder. The intensity of the moment, all the anxiety coursing through her, caused the tremors in her body to start. They weren't violent but definitely noticeable as the small ripples rushed through her head to toe. Her face probably took on a look of deep remorse since no one was looking, she was safe to let her guard drop for the time being. When the Doctor turned his head she began to stroke the side of his face absently, it was more for her benefit than his. The distant look was back in her eyes as she stared at the wall unseeingly.

The question she desperately didn't want asked was suddenly in the open. Mal blinked rapidly and trembled as she mentally returned from her wondering. As the Doctor tilted his head to look at her she carefully softened her features into neutrality. "Run, little girl..." the words were whispered and she shut her eyes to escape for a brief second.

Upon opening them again she made eye contact and somehow managed to keep it. "To me? Life. Just life." Mal began to shake her head before tilting it back up to stare at the wall. She couldn't look at him, couldn't tell him anything. Yet she felt like she'd crack if pushed enough. Maybe she was already crumbling since she was leaning over him, pushing heavily on his one shoulder to keep herself from crumpling from the weakness in her knees.

The line of Mal's jaw twitched as she clamped down hard, forced to look into the Doctor's face. "It's not a lie." The emotion was being leached from her voice as she recoils within herself, splitting her emotional from her situational. With a releasing sigh she gave up her legs' function, sinking in his embrace so they were both on their knees. Her head attempted to jerk away from his grip but it didn't work so she quickly gave up that as well.

"It's okay... it's okay. It's fine. Everything's fine. We'll be okay, I promise." This trail of words didn't even seem to be directed to the Doctor, Mal was distant again. The glazed expression caused her to stare through the Doctor until he said her name again. Blinking away the daze, she licked her lips and studied his face. What was she going to tell him? How would she get him off her case? The truth tends to do that... to get people to leave you alone.

"I can't say it. I can't. I think it too much and that's enough. I'm fixing it though, I'm trying to-" The sentence was never finished, her eyes shut and her body hunched as she collapsed further on herself.

"I'm sorry." She stated in a muffled tone, void of feeling. "We were in the middle of... of your issues. I didn't mean to just..." Mal's eyes blinked a few times before remaining shut, absorbing the comfort the rocking provided for her. She felt like a child like this but couldn't seem to care. It was hard to beat down the emotion and replace it with something cheerful. It was impressive the Doctor did it so often and for so long. In a few days or even hours he'd be able to do it again, she was sure of it. The Doctor was strong. For her, she was only strong long enough for her child, so he would have a parent Mal never had growing up. Just because she had fallen to a piece of trash didn't mean he had to...

"Oh, Doctor... Doctor... Doctor..." It was impossible to keep the desperation from her voice as she finally put her arms around him, squeezing to keep herself here. The lightness kept coming back in spurts and the third wave of the night was starting to roll in. Normally it got stronger and stronger until it completely had her in hysterics, usually causing Greg to come down those stone stairs to help her out. Normally it only took a single poke from a needle to have her calm enough to sleep off the episode and return to "normal" in the morning. Just in time to deal with a waking baby...

Mal was just muttering 'no' over and over quietly under breath as the Doctor talked to her. She was shaking more noticeably now as she tried to fend off the inevitable hallucinations, sounds, delusions. A groan escaped her as everything started to plague her again, add the wait to whatever diseased the Doctor and she was flying yet being weighed down on earth. Confusing sensations. Oh, the flying was caused by the Doctor picking her up, she registered that much.

"It's coming. It's coming. Oh, I'm sorry, so sorry." The statement was generic that not even Mal to which she was referring to. Was she talking about the psychotic experience just around the corner? Her haunting future? What? What was it? The questions just kept flying in her head, all of them 'why?'.

Mak turned her head to look at the Doctor, eyes bloodshot from the strain she was putting on herself, the tears she held back and all the exhaustion that settled in her bones. She didn't say anything but closed her eyes again, a pained expression twisting her face though physically she was fine.

"You wouldn't be smiling if you knew half the things I thought."  Mal said in a dark tone, barely able to contain the tears and some slipped free.  "It hurts, it hurts so much right now but I'm always promised freedom from my pain..."  Her hand was limp in his, eyes flickering over his face and she fisted her free hand in the fabric of her shirt.  Mal's breathing was sickly, perspiration forming on her head.  "I just have to get there and everything will be fine, I was promised.  I won't hurt... but will I?  I'm here so... so my Doctor is fine.  He doesn't know but I ran to keep him away from me.  But he's suppose to kill me.  Oh, god, what if he can't?  He can't if I'm not near him."

Mal gasped and rolled away from the Doctor as best she could so she didn't have to face him.  She was crying now, choking on each sob in an attempt to fight it down.  The room felt like it had gotten darker, the air was crisp and windy.  Logically that was impossible since she was indoors but the visions always brushed aside logic.  "What does it?  What causes it?  Why do I do it?"

"No, no, there's nothing. I don't know. Maybe I just go crazy. Heh, already there... Wait... no, that can't be. I don't know!" Mal reached up and grabbed both of his shoulders and shook him lightly to emphasize her words. More tears began to slip as she just stared into his face. He wanted to help but she couldn't let that happen, but he wouldn't just leave if he thought she was going to crack, going to tell him everything and let him figure out how to fix it. "But it can't be fixed... that's the point of fixed points." She was murmuring this to herself, having been convinced this path could not be swayed off of. There was no way she could alter her future and that's why she had to do everything in her power to isolate herself from her friends, to try and prevent their deaths by her hand.

"The first time I-I saw it I didn't understand... but I was so afraid. The vision, or hallucination, or whatever it was, looks like I was in a ship wreck every time. The sky is always black and it just doesn't feel right. B-but the first time there was a corpse hung on one of the metal panels... pierced through his heart. There was just..." Mal had to stop to take a shaky breath. She wasn't seeing anything in her current surrounding, instead envisioning the scene she was describing. "His face was... peeled off. I have no idea who it was. But the other times it happened they started getting recognizable features... u-until today. Now I see all of them. Every part. Mutilated, but I know who they are."

Mal shut her eyes tight and sucked in a breath, letting her arms drop as she wrapped them around herself. Her voice was now a whisper, "One of them's you. So you have to go. I'm sorry. But you have to leave."