Cosmo || Doctor Who

38 : All This To Say

𝔏𝔬𝔫𝔡𝔬𝔫, 𝔈𝔫𝔤𝔩𝔞𝔫𝔡, 𝔓𝔞𝔯𝔞𝔩𝔩𝔢𝔩 𝔈𝔞𝔯𝔱𝔥
𝔉𝔢𝔟𝔯𝔲𝔞𝔯𝔶 2006

Who do you want to be?

EJ had thought about it so many times in his life, and yet, the answer was still unclear. It was a can of worms, just waiting to be opened, and when the Doctor dared to ask, only one thing came to mind. Anyone but himself.

However, it seemed that they had other plans. Since the Doctor wasn't an earthly being, and Rose didn't exist, they checked the guest list. Edward John Thompson was not in attendance of the party, because he was up north with his mother. Naturally, it was EJ's way in. He would have to play himself, among people who knew him, but he didn't know anything about them.

He used the Tardis wardrobe to dress himself. There was a whole array of clothes suited to him, and very little light to view them in, but EJ didn't want to wear them. What happened if the other version didn't have any tattoos? Then they would know that something was wrong, or they would think he was playing some sort of joke.

Eventually, when Rose and the Doctor had acquired the uniform for the waiters and waitresses, EJ was stood in the wardrobe, sort of confused. There were so many suits, and so many ties, and he was lost. He wasn't the sort of person who went to fancy events, and he wasn't the sort of person who dressed smartly either. Angel was right, he could hardly take care of himself.

The Doctor walked in after some time had passed, and stood beside EJ, hands in his pockets. When the Thompson boy turned on his heels, he saw the black tie attire in his hands, and knew that he would never look as good as the Doctor did then. He was beautiful, in every way, and it was frustrating.

"I don't know what I'm suppose to do." He rubbed his face, and sighed, his shoulders drooping. "I don't think I'm the right person to do this."

"Course you are." The Doctor shrugged nonchalantly, picking a matching trouser and jacket combination from the rails. "Just need the right outfit, that's all."

"This isn't going to fit."

The Doctor didn't seem to believe him as he passed it over. "Trust me."

EJ removed his t shirt swiftly, and suddenly felt bare. He'd been topless in front of the Doctor before, but that was a less than ideal situation, swing as he was strapped to a table by a man who owned a Dalek. This time, he'd done it. And he could feel the stares on his back.

The scars covered every inch of skin, and the bits which weren't, were inked instead. It was his attempt to forget, but he remembered every moment. An artwork of suffering. And now, the Doctor had free reign to see his body, should he want to.

     EJ held his breath. He was frightened now that there was silence. This was the straw to break the camels back.

     The Doctor placed a hand on his shoulder, and the temperature seemed to drop. He was freezing against the warm touch. He could feel a thumb trace over one of the scars on his shoulder blade. It was thick, and ugly, a jagged incision left to heal itself, and never fully recovered.

     "Did it hurt?"

  EJ could have laughed, an airy chuckle leaving him instead. "Which one?"

     The Doctor was gentle, and walked around the Thompson boy to face him, completely. Somehow, he felt more vulnerable now. His metal box was on show, this time. The skin was battered surrounding it, having attached to the surface over the years. He didn't look human.

    Nervously, he crossed his arms over his chest, because he could see the Doctor's eyes. They were dark beneath his brow, just... looking. EJ didn't know how he felt about it, there was something different about this.