And a Touch of Weird

Bedshaped

Fandom: Doctor Who

Topic: Song: Bedshaped, by Keane

Monkey Business 2013 One-Shot competition entry

Round 1**

Tubes and wires were attached to a lonely figure's arm, pumping numerous liquids into their system, numbness consuming them like a virus. The youth's body was well-shaped to the uncomfortable bed she was confined to, and it was obvious to anything possessing eyes she had been trapped there a very long time.

She doubted her legs still worked.

She doubted anything still functioned entirely properly besides her brain.

The young girls eyes were closed peacefully, but not out of death. No, no. She was dreaming, despite the fact she was still awake.

In her mind, she replayed visions of a young man with green eyes, floppy brown hair and a goofy grin that spread a similar one onto her pale lips. She recalled his outlandish tweed jacket, and his marvellous bow tie. Sometimes red, and sometimes blue. The colour change was the one thing that always bothered Rory, although she never really pondered as to why. She remembered his blue box. That magical blue box that took her anywhere and everywhere.

She missed her madman in his magnificent blue box.

She relived memories of laughter, joy, fun times between her and her mysterious friend, but those were soon overcome by the times she felt distant, or even alone in the great alien's company. The times she cowered back as he shouted. That was the only thing that ever frightened Rory NewBridge-when The Doctor yelled.

It was strange to see flames burning inside those emerald eyes, and feel the wrath of the mighty Time lord, but at the same time he was so calm. It was like two emotions that never should have collided, crashed into one.

He was a puzzle, and one she, despite the time she had been so gracefully given, still couldn't comprehend.

Rory had been captured 3 years ago by The Sontarans, only it seemed like a lifetime. The only reason they spared her life was to keep her as a lab rat, and here she was. Various chemicals that were probably completely foreign-entirely unattainable-to the human race being forced into the young girls bloodstream. The initial situation belonged in a film.

'Three years ago, this would have seem like a nightmare shrugged off my shoulders in the early morning. '

The thought made her chuckle, although it was cut short, causing her to frown.

Rory knew laughing wasn't meant to hurt you, nor was inhaling a single breath, and exhaling simply.

Something wasn't right.

The girl pushed herself to remain calm and collected. She knew panicking was not an option momentarily, and the young girl wasn't even positive if she was in a suitable situation to panic.

'You're probably dying, I mean, radiation takes a while to slowly eat your body away, doesn't it?

Ah, what do I know?

What would The Doctor do?'

Rory sighed heavily, dismissing the massive wave of pain that followed, and nodded. What would her alien companion do it a time like this? If the work was ending again, or he was held threateningly at gunpoint, what would the infamous Doctor do?

'Not panic, that's for sure.'

She smirked slightly, enjoying the delightful memories dancing about her conscience, teasing her of the life she had lost. Now all she was, was a bedridden experiment, probably dying from radiation.

"Well, aren't you just a little ray of sunshine then, eh?" The Doctor's voice spoke in her thoughts, and tears brimmed her eyes at the wonderful yet random and insignificant memory.

"Well, I'm just saying," a healthier version of Rory broke out laughing. The young girl beamed at the image of herself. She used to be so lively. Now all her energy, her being, was deprived from her, stripped away until only a bare shell was left.

She couldn't recall what the conversation had been about, or how it had started, but she remembered it word by word.

"Yeah, and your one of the first companions I've ever taken to think like that," the Time lord retorted, giving her an odd look that set another wave of laughter to wash over her past self. The youth could practically hear the voices speaking, as if the scene was replaying all around her like a theatre production.

"Alright, if you want me to apologize for thinking, I will, but last I checked, it got ya places."

Rory never could nave forgotten her sarcasm and wit, although the two had seemed to slip away from her now. 'Another piece of me lost to the fire', she mentally reminded herself grimly.

'But he'll come back for me, and we'll return to the stars like its meant to be, home, where I belong.' She reassured herself, refusing to believe otherwise.

Rory shuddered, no reason behind it or a purpose to blame. It was as if she had lost control of herself for those few brief heartbeats. She swallowed the fear and paranoia rising up in her throat, and pursed her lips until all chaos in her busy-bee mind died down.

But the peace she had started to savour didn't last long enough for her to receive some sort of reward from it.

Rory inhaled loudly as a burning sensation devoured her state of mind and all feeling she had. It overpowered her and she let tears slip down her cheeks like raindrops. The agony tempted her to scream, to shriek and let the universe know of her suffering, but she resisted, crying silently and patiently pleading that it would all end soon.

When the invisible fires died down-after what had seemed like a millennium-enough for the youth to think straight, she sobbed, her entire being racked and shook with each one as if it was paper caught in a strong wind.

'All I want is to see The Doctor one more time. Then let me die, because that's what happening isn't it? I'm dying. Please let me see him. He meant the world to me....'

She begged the air, anything that would listen, she begged with all her heart, even though she knew it was impossible. But she reminded herself of a simple fact. She knew The Doctor was an impossible man, but he was no man, therefore completely possible.

And that's what kept her content, in her waiting and patience.