My ultimate season 6 episode!
Jun. 11th, 2011 01:10 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
solidfoamsoulOr how it might be if Turlough was also a companion. The following is a dream that I just had...
River Song sat on a chair in the large lawn in front of him. Turlough did not want to participate in this stupid game. A game where the servants played for their masters. Somehow River had convinced him to act as her houseboy for these snobs. They should be finding Rory and Amy and going after that bloody astronaut. The Doctor was... somewhere. They expected to meet up with him again rather soon, at least that's what Turlough had been told. Ugh, this bloody trivia game. At least it was partly historical so Turlough recognized some names though he hadn't answered any so far. River would smile politely, but her sights were set on the tree line behind Turlough. Funnily enough Turlough was the one to spot the Astronaut first. He turned, just on a whim, and spotted the yellow reflective helmet, just as a question came up that he actually knew. You were suppose to raise your hand, but lots of servants had their hand raised an no one was being called on. "Gregory Morrison! Sir Gregory Morrison!" Turlough shouted with a short growl while he stood. There was a collective gasp among the crowd at which both River and Turlough couldn't hide their smirks at. "River..."
"I see it, sweetie. Let's go." River grabbed Turlough's hand and they both jogged out to the woods. The Astronaut stayed were it was. Turlough felt River stop and she grabbed his other hand, writing on it in pen. "Ask it this, only this. Don't forget."
"I don't understand--"
"Go on. You have to go alone. I'll catch you up." River gave him a sympathetic smile and a quick kiss on the cheek before pushing him along towards the Astronaut. Turlough moved forward a few paces, but when he looked back, River was gone. Then suddenly he felt a gloved hand clamped over his wrist. The day was getting brighter...
"Wait! I'm suppose to tell you--" Turlough struggled to read his hand the Astronaut had a hold on. He did notice the other hand was blinking, that little red light in the middle of his hand. Why was that important again? The ink was smudged, so he read what he could: "Is it real? Is it right?"
The light around them became so bright, Turlough had to shut his eyes. When he opened them again, they were no longer in the woods. And he was alone. He was in a house. White walls with detail trimming, grey marble floors and those dark brass fixtures... "I know where I am," Turlough spoke to no one. He just needed to say it aloud. He was in the foyer now, in front of him was the kitchen, dark brass stairs were to his left. There was a open doorway to his right and soon voices cried out his name in joy, "Turlough! He's home, mummy!"
He turned, walking into the sitting room where his mother sat to his left in a long pink dress, her blonde hair bundled up on her head. Blonde hair? Turlough scarcely recognized her without her hair as red as his. The fact that she had been dead for six years didn't cross his mind. He gave a smile to her and she smiled back but said nothing. Two boys sat across from her at the large window in desks, drawing. Turlough knew who they were and after a silent nod from their mother, launched themselves from their desks to hug him. Malkon looked nearly 10, his hair was not nearly as dark as it would be when Turlough, the Doctor and Peri would meet him. The age difference was incorrect still, but again, Turlough took no notice. He was home. The other boy, who Turlough knew to be his youngest brother was about 5, with hair as dark as Malkon's would be in the future. Or Turlough's past.
Turlough lifted little Patrick up on his hip, "Are you staying for good, Turlough?"
"Yes, of course I am!"
"What's this?" Malkon asked curiously before pulling Turlough's left hand down and pressing the button before Turlough could stop him. He heard River's voice, "Take the exit up and to the left. Now. You must go now." The urgency in her voice frightened him and he suddenly remembered how he got here.
"Your father should be home soon, my love." His mother finally spoke, her voice as soft and delicate as he remembered it to be. And yet she had died a trained solider. The boy in his arms shouldn't even be here.
Patrick touched Turlough's face and looked close to tears, "You look sad. You are going to leave."
Turlough didn't answer him, thinking on what River said. What he had said to the Astronaut. Is it real? Is it right? It wasn't. Turlough set Patrick down and moved up those familiar brass stairs to the play room. He only was able to glance at the large room that held his childhood toys, all Malkon and Patrick's now. There was an easel by the window and a cabinet nearby where he locked away his painting tools and paints.
The door to his left opened and he shielded his eyes from the bright light. River stepped out, Rory and Amy following. "We have to go now," River spoke sympathetically again and Turlough looked to his small brother, who had tears streaming down their faces. Turlough gave a short gasp, tears springing to his own eyes. He swallowed hair and shook his head. He felt a strong hand at his shoulder and a softer one in his hand.
"This isn't real," Rory squeezed his shoulder. Amy squeezed his hand, "You'll see them again."
"No," Turlough corrected her, "I only had Malkon. Patrick never existed. And my parents--" He gasped out another sob and River's hands grasped Turlough's free hand, "We have to leave. The Doctor is waiting. Say goodbye."
Turlough looked to the children, holding each others hands and sobbing openly. He couldn't. If he opened his mouth he'd only start weeping. He had never felt so sad or so weak in his life. River and Amy pulled him forward, Rory stood at his side, his hand still at his shoulder as the light from the door engulfed them.
River Song sat on a chair in the large lawn in front of him. Turlough did not want to participate in this stupid game. A game where the servants played for their masters. Somehow River had convinced him to act as her houseboy for these snobs. They should be finding Rory and Amy and going after that bloody astronaut. The Doctor was... somewhere. They expected to meet up with him again rather soon, at least that's what Turlough had been told. Ugh, this bloody trivia game. At least it was partly historical so Turlough recognized some names though he hadn't answered any so far. River would smile politely, but her sights were set on the tree line behind Turlough. Funnily enough Turlough was the one to spot the Astronaut first. He turned, just on a whim, and spotted the yellow reflective helmet, just as a question came up that he actually knew. You were suppose to raise your hand, but lots of servants had their hand raised an no one was being called on. "Gregory Morrison! Sir Gregory Morrison!" Turlough shouted with a short growl while he stood. There was a collective gasp among the crowd at which both River and Turlough couldn't hide their smirks at. "River..."
"I see it, sweetie. Let's go." River grabbed Turlough's hand and they both jogged out to the woods. The Astronaut stayed were it was. Turlough felt River stop and she grabbed his other hand, writing on it in pen. "Ask it this, only this. Don't forget."
"I don't understand--"
"Go on. You have to go alone. I'll catch you up." River gave him a sympathetic smile and a quick kiss on the cheek before pushing him along towards the Astronaut. Turlough moved forward a few paces, but when he looked back, River was gone. Then suddenly he felt a gloved hand clamped over his wrist. The day was getting brighter...
"Wait! I'm suppose to tell you--" Turlough struggled to read his hand the Astronaut had a hold on. He did notice the other hand was blinking, that little red light in the middle of his hand. Why was that important again? The ink was smudged, so he read what he could: "Is it real? Is it right?"
The light around them became so bright, Turlough had to shut his eyes. When he opened them again, they were no longer in the woods. And he was alone. He was in a house. White walls with detail trimming, grey marble floors and those dark brass fixtures... "I know where I am," Turlough spoke to no one. He just needed to say it aloud. He was in the foyer now, in front of him was the kitchen, dark brass stairs were to his left. There was a open doorway to his right and soon voices cried out his name in joy, "Turlough! He's home, mummy!"
He turned, walking into the sitting room where his mother sat to his left in a long pink dress, her blonde hair bundled up on her head. Blonde hair? Turlough scarcely recognized her without her hair as red as his. The fact that she had been dead for six years didn't cross his mind. He gave a smile to her and she smiled back but said nothing. Two boys sat across from her at the large window in desks, drawing. Turlough knew who they were and after a silent nod from their mother, launched themselves from their desks to hug him. Malkon looked nearly 10, his hair was not nearly as dark as it would be when Turlough, the Doctor and Peri would meet him. The age difference was incorrect still, but again, Turlough took no notice. He was home. The other boy, who Turlough knew to be his youngest brother was about 5, with hair as dark as Malkon's would be in the future. Or Turlough's past.
Turlough lifted little Patrick up on his hip, "Are you staying for good, Turlough?"
"Yes, of course I am!"
"What's this?" Malkon asked curiously before pulling Turlough's left hand down and pressing the button before Turlough could stop him. He heard River's voice, "Take the exit up and to the left. Now. You must go now." The urgency in her voice frightened him and he suddenly remembered how he got here.
"Your father should be home soon, my love." His mother finally spoke, her voice as soft and delicate as he remembered it to be. And yet she had died a trained solider. The boy in his arms shouldn't even be here.
Patrick touched Turlough's face and looked close to tears, "You look sad. You are going to leave."
Turlough didn't answer him, thinking on what River said. What he had said to the Astronaut. Is it real? Is it right? It wasn't. Turlough set Patrick down and moved up those familiar brass stairs to the play room. He only was able to glance at the large room that held his childhood toys, all Malkon and Patrick's now. There was an easel by the window and a cabinet nearby where he locked away his painting tools and paints.
The door to his left opened and he shielded his eyes from the bright light. River stepped out, Rory and Amy following. "We have to go now," River spoke sympathetically again and Turlough looked to his small brother, who had tears streaming down their faces. Turlough gave a short gasp, tears springing to his own eyes. He swallowed hair and shook his head. He felt a strong hand at his shoulder and a softer one in his hand.
"This isn't real," Rory squeezed his shoulder. Amy squeezed his hand, "You'll see them again."
"No," Turlough corrected her, "I only had Malkon. Patrick never existed. And my parents--" He gasped out another sob and River's hands grasped Turlough's free hand, "We have to leave. The Doctor is waiting. Say goodbye."
Turlough looked to the children, holding each others hands and sobbing openly. He couldn't. If he opened his mouth he'd only start weeping. He had never felt so sad or so weak in his life. River and Amy pulled him forward, Rory stood at his side, his hand still at his shoulder as the light from the door engulfed them.
