Doctor Who One-shots

Illusions (3/3)

“Y/N, I know something’s wrong.” He says through the door. You know you can’t hide things to me. But that’s okay, if you’d like I’ll listen to you. If you don’t want to talk about it, that’s alright. If you want to, I can even drive you home. Or we could just hang out in… Barcelona! In year 6547!”

I open the door. By this time, I’ve managed to calm down, without a single trace of tears.

“…You’ve cried.”

Well.

“Yeah. Sorry.”

He went to sit on the bed and tapped on the bed with his hand, inviting me to go sit next to him. When I do so, he puts his arm around my shoulders, letting my head to rest on his shoulder. With his hand behind my head, he is playing with my hair. Just his gesture helps me to calm down. When I’m next to him, I can only feel relaxed and safe.

“Don’t need to be sorry with me. I’m just worried about you. Did you see something you didn’t want to on Morphea?”

“Um… it’s not like that… but I’m not sure I want to talk about it.”

“Yeah, of course, sure. Sorry.”

I chuckled as he said sorry, and I give him a little nudge. He chuckles too.

“You know… when I’m with you like this, I’m feeling instantly better. I want these moments to never end.” …and I instantly regret saying this as he doesn’t immediately respond.

I raise my off his shoulder and watch him.

“Doctor…?”

“Y-Yeah?” he said while turning his face to look at me. He was blushing.

“I don’t know if I should’ve said this…”

“N-no! That’s great Y/N! I love being like this with you!” he stutters.

We went back like we were, my head on his shoulder and his arm on my mines. He plays with my hair again.

I want to talk to him about what I saw on Morphea. I can’t think about something else. My mind is full of this thought only. Maybe if I talk to him about it, at least he would reject me, and I would feel better and finally think of anything else…?

No. I don’t want him to reject me. Or at least I think I don’t want to. I’m scared. But I’d like to talk to him. I’d like more with him.

“On what the illusions that we see on Morphea are based?” I asked.

“I don’t really know… like I said, it was my first time on Morphea, but I guess these illusions are first based on your memories. I already went on planets with similar marketplaces, and I think there are the same on Earth.”

“Yeah, it was like a souk.”

“But… the reputation on Morphea is biased. The illusions it provides can make you distance too much from reality. It’s like living in a dream from your past, and it can be very harmful if you stay too long. But there’s also this idea of dream. From what I’ve heard, I suppose that the illusions are in a second time based on what you’d like to see. To be more precise, on your wishes.”

I hummed in understanding.

“That’s why I made an end to this. I expanded for a very short time the barrier of the TARDIS so it would erase the illusion. I was scared that you were like… having a bad dream.” he said his last sentence looking at me with concern.

“So…” he continues “is it because of the illusion that you were feeling bad?”

“Yeah… kind of.”

“Have you seen something you… didn’t want to?”

“No… it was more like…” I made a pause. I didn’t know if I should continue. “something that would never happen, I guess.”

“A dream based on your wishes, then.”

“Yeah.”

And we stay like this in silence. For maybe five minutes.

“Y/N.” he cut the silence.

“Mh?”

“I’ve seen everything. I’m sorry I should have told you.”

“Wh… What?” again, I left my head from his shoulder. This time, it was my turn to be worried. The Doctor wasn’t watching me as a response. He kept looking at the wall right before him.

“Yeah. The TARDIS showed me.”

Silence again. What am I supposed to say or do? Should I run away – again? I’m not thinking about anything right now. I’m just waiting for the Doctor to reject me or saying that I disappoint him.

“I’m really so- I shouldn’t hav-…”

“We were beautiful together.” He said this while facing me.

Suddenly, his face was approaching mine. Exactly like in my dream. His lips brushed mine, and, they crushed on mines. His kiss was also very soft, but longer. His lips tasted like mint. When he pulled back, I was looking at him with incomprehension, and maybe fear.

“Is-is this an illusion?”

“No. it’s not. But since I’ve seen yours, I wanted to do this.”

“How can I be sure that it’s not an ill-“ He cut me off but kissing me another time. Except that it was more confident. He starts to move his lips against mine, and I do the same. Our kiss was more savage. It was like the Doctor was… hungry. But he pulled back, and I didn’t want him to end. He kisses so well.

“Oh! – Goodness! For how long I’ve wanted to do this!” he screams enthusiastically. “Now, you can’t doubt about it being an illusion.”

“If I still doubt… would you continue to kiss me?”

Without a response, I get what I wanted: a kiss from the Doctor. My illusion came true.

Morphea, from the Latin Morpheus: god of prophetic dreams.