Multi-Fandom One Shots

Cellmates (Thirteenth Doctor)

You paced your cell mindlessly. You wondered if this was how sharks felt at the aquarium. Stuck swimming where you cant play and doing anything to keep the barest minimum of sanity. You had a cold. Maybe. Your nose was stuffy. Whatever. You'd felt like shit the past three days and refused to leave your cell the first two.

Stuffy nose in a claustrophobic's nightmare. Are you claustrophobic? You barely felt enough to have basic thoughts, defense mechanism. Was this hell and you'd adjusted? Or was this an acceptable future.

A few energy barrier squares away, the Dandalonion felt your energy shift to depressing, defeated thoughts. She bent back, the marks along the sides of her face flares and she let out an agonizing wail. Her little boyfriend, an arm-razor generating Rakori, flipped out and sent his defensive razors down toward you.

You jumped, flipping over one. "Sorry! Sorry, Mel!" you shouted. You skidded to the side as another razor flew at you. Too slow. Your bicep's laceration began to bleed. Oh, you'd had to apologize to Mel.

Well, weapon boy finally calmed down as Mel's shout tapered off to whimpers. You scolded your defensive thoughts. As if you'd ever regret an apology. Not if it really helped. So what if you were being slowly poisoned. Potentially.

The hiss of a door opening into the next cell distracted you. You turned to see a blonde in a matching red jumpsuit. "Oh, look, we match!"

Your new visitor scrunched up her nose in good taste.

"Too soon?" you asked, grinning. "You new?"

She nodded. "First day. Li'le frightened."

You nodded understandingly. "I know. I'm sorry." You looked up and met her eyes. "This isn't going to be fun. How long's your sentence?"

By the way she diverted her eyes, you felt bad.

"Ah." You twisted a bit, not turning away, but cautiously aware. "You... uh... got the life span for that?" you asked conversationally, but you both knew you were feeling her out. How much hope did she need? And could you provide it?

"Probably," she sighed. She sounded so chipper. It cracked at your heart.

"Well, meet the gang!" you tried, forcing your own smile. She matched your enthusiasm. You pointed to the baby monster beside you. "This is a Pting. I've named him Tiny. He tries to eat the cage every day."

"Ooh, there's an idea..."

The fact that if a Pting couldn't get it, no one could occurred to you, but you let it fly away unsaid. She'd established a need for hope. You'd try to expend however much you could. Maybe plans worked for her. "Cells move around, maybe find a power box?" Clearly, you had access to projectiles.

She perked up with a smile that made your heart ache.

You clapped. "Don't get distracted!" you shouted. You pointed over her head, to the Weeping Angel bound by red, glowing, electric wires. "That's Rafael. He's a dick."

She looked over at her shoulder, made the connection, and turned back to you. "Rafael? From the Bible?" A human? In a Judoon prison?

"Well, him and Gabriel are the only ones who's names I know," you excused. "And I've got a thing for Tilda Swinton. And I don't want to think about that thing any time I think about her." You stomped suddenly. "Now, I'm gonna. Aren't I?" You groaned, throwing your head back and walking away.

"Are you human?" she had to ask.

"Sort of," you answered, shaking your head. "Not really. Human raised. Slows me down quite a lot." You turned around, bounding back to her. "Anyway!" you shouted louder than necessary. You pointed to her other corner and introduced the lamia you'd dubbed Medusa despite the fact you'd let her have her way with you anytime. Calling her Medusa pissed her off (kept her hissing at you all the time) and kept you from giving away your strange kink. "What about you? Name, rank, crime?" You quickly spit out your name to start the game.

The blonde smiled. "I'm the Doctor. No rank."

You thought for a moment. "Time Lord?"

The smile tipped and wouldve seemed mischievous if it wasn't so sad. "Sor' of. No' really," she reflected your earlier sentiment.

You frowned stepping closer to the electric lining. "You're the big bad secret."

The golden bob jolted up as she looked at you.

"In the Underground," you supplied helpfully. "The Immortals have been talking about you. Well, not talking about you which is all the more telling."

She slid closer to you. "What have you heard?" she asked.

You pulled your lips back regretfully. "Nothing useful. I'm sorry. I only get rumors and whispers."

Her shoulders slumped, but she took in a deep breath and met your gaze with another blinding, heart breaking smile. "What's your crime?"

"21 90-eleventy twelve asterisk chalice," you admitted guiltily.

The Doctor gaped. "Posession of an Unknown. Were you blowing up planets?" she asked mostly playfully suspicious.

You laughed. "No! I just couldn't give an in-depth description of it. Or how to use it. So they locked me up." You shrugged like it was no big.

"Sentence?" she asked hopefully.

You shrugged, dragging your foot along the ground. And she understood. Maybe not as long as hers, but it was long to you.

"How old are you?" she asked.

You gave a her lopsided grin. "Now, the Doctor, that's a rude question to ask a lady you just met." You swivveled a bit, hopping closer to her. "How old are you?"

She looked a bit offended for a second.

You laughed. "As I understand it, you weren't always a lady. So... Best guess?"

Her playfulness faded again.

You nodded. "Ah... Another poor question."

The Doctor shook her head. "I'm sorry," she cracked out.

She'd barely finished before you were excusing, "Don't be. It's totally my bad. It never occured to me it was a secret even from you." You let your legs give out, crossing them as you came to sit. "So, you're a traveler, I hear. Tell me some stories."

That propped a grin back on her face and you felt like you'd performed a job well done.