Cosmo || Doctor Who

25 : Transformations

𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔗𝔞𝔯𝔡𝔦𝔰 ℑ𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔦𝔬𝔯
𝔗𝔥𝔢 𝔙𝔬𝔯𝔱𝔢𝔵

The life of Ezra Jack 'EJ' Thompson was a complex puzzle in which few people knew all of the ins and outs. There were stories he'd yet to share, and truths hidden in plain sight. Despite trusting the people closest to him enough to explain the bare minimum, it was all he could afford to say.

Everyone with access to media knew about the Thompsons. Their reputation was flawed, envied and ridiculed; and it was all because of one selfish man. He ruined the lives of his own family, and influenced many others in the process.

     However, now is not the time to be vague. EJ suffered because of Scott's actions. Every day, every second, he ached as his heart beat unnaturally inside of a box. His skin burned over the scars which had been masked by ink, but lodged into the mind. An image had been made for himself, an image which dissociated EJ with the family name.

     His siblings had done the same, though they were reluctant to stay in touch with one another. All three living brothers were forced to face a reminder every day. There was no distraction. And yet, they found comfort in their distance. Tackling this problem together would only hurt them more, or at least, it was what they believed. They had their own lives for a reason; and it was to stay firmly away from the others.

     Truthfully, EJ missed them both. As soon as they turned seventeen, their father released them, and they never looked back. The youngest brother, of course, was the luckiest. Despite his deformities, he endured two less years than the others, which was enough to despise him.

It changed the way EJ saw the world. His fathers death, his mothers absence, and the fleeting nature of his brothers meant he knew that thing in life were transient. He could never expect everything to stay the same, and yet, now he longed for it more than ever.

     He stood in the Tardis, hand clutching Rose's, as they stared at the man. The man who wore the Doctor's clothes, who spoke with the Doctor's words, and yet, looked and sounded nothing like him. He leant against the centre console, and pressed as many buttons as he could, though, they were done in an oddly precise order.

     "6 pm. Tuesday, October, 5006, on the way to Barcelona!" His voice was excitable, and soft, and as he turned back to them, EJ felt his heart begin to race. "Now then, what do I look like?"

     Rose was half hidden behind the support beams, frightened to even look at him, whilst EJ was more curious. He wanted to step forwards, make sure this man was real, feel his skin, get to know who he was. The Thompson boy learnt through touch, the movement of people, the way their emotions swayed.

Though, before either of them replied, he burst into a fit of words. "No, no, no, no, no, don't tell me. Let's see. Two legs, two arms, two hands, slight weakness in the dorsal tubercle."

They watched as he pressured his wrist as it rotated. EJ didn't really know what he was doing, but it was okay. He never knew what the Doctor did on the best of days. This man would be no different, he assumed. Then, he grabbed onto his hair, ruining the way it had fallen naturally, spiking it up in all different directions.

"Hair! I'm not bald! Ooh, big hair. Sideburns! I've got sideburns! Really bad skin. Little bit thinner, that's weird."

     He pulled the black t-shirt which should have belonged to the Doctor, close to his body, revealing his skinny figure. EJ's eyes bulged slightly, realising that the lay of his body was incredible. The shoulder to hip ratio was practically mouthwatering.

     "Give me time. I'll get used to it." Then, he looked up, almost disturbed. "I have got a mole. I can feel it. Between the shoulder blades, there's a mole. That's alright. Love the mole. Go on, then, tell me. What do you think?"