but_can_i_be_trusted: (Eleven)
[personal profile] but_can_i_be_trusted posting in [community profile] who_guestfest
Author: [livejournal.com profile] irishvampire13
Title: 'Sweet Dreams and Flying Machines in Pieces on the Ground'
Rating: G
Word Count: 1,388
Prompt/Chosen character: Wilf gets a trip on the TARDIS. (from [livejournal.com profile] kerravonsen)
Notes/Warnings: Dedicated with love to Grandpa on what would have been his ninety-fourth birthday. Grandpa and I were every bit as close as Wilf and Donna, so their dynamic is always bittersweet to me. Hence this particular prompt, on this particular day.

Summary: He clicked his fingers, the TARDIS doors springing open in response. "Come along, Mott..."

Been walking my mind to an easy time, my back turned towards the sun
Lord knows, when the cold wind blows, it'll turn your head around
Well, there's hours of time on the telephone line to talk about things to come
Sweet dreams and flying machines in pieces on the ground

~*~ James Taylor
'Fire and Rain'


"Is it really you, Doctor?"

Wilf could scarcely believe his eyes. There was the big blue box, the same as always. Well, with a few minor, almost unnoticeable differences.

The man, though...he couldn't be more changed. Still tall, still skinny. Downright scrawny, beneath that long green coat. But the face was almost a teenager's face, smiling at him from beneath a Stetson.

"Hello, Wilf," he said. "How have you been?"

"Oh, never mind me," Wilf responded. "How about you? Never thought I'd see you again! What've you been up to?"

The Doctor shrugged. "The same as ever. Traveling. Trying to stay out of trouble. Usually failing," he admitted in amused chagrin.

"Same old you, then," Wilf chuckled. "Got anyone with you now?"

There was a sudden flicker in those green eyes. A dim glint of sorrow. "I did have someone." His smile turned faraway and wistful. "Amy and Rory. My Ponds." A harsh sigh. "Not anymore, though."

"Why not?"

"They've got their own lives. They don't need some daft old man like me mucking it up for them. Putting them in danger unnecessarily."

The bright, boyish smile had faded away utterly, replaced by a look of inexpressible loneliness.

"You miss them, don't you," Wilf asked after an awkward pause.

"I always miss everyone." As though forcibly snapping himself out of his mood, the Doctor beamed. It was like flicking a switch, the sudden change: Depressed to gleeful in a fraction of a second. He clapped his hands, rubbing them together eagerly. "That's why I'm here, in fact."

"What--you missed me?"

"I missed you," the Doctor confirmed. "And I wanted to show you something..." He clicked his fingers, the TARDIS doors springing open in response. "Come along, Mott..."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


The Eagle Nebula
approximately seven thousand light-years from Earth


"Oh, my word," Wilf breathed, blinking back awestruck tears.

The Pillars of Creation loomed beyond the doors of the TARDIS, resplendent and magical. Newborn stars blazed fiercely against clouds of gas and dust.

Leaning against the door, the Doctor pointed toward one star in particular. "One day, in about seven million years, there'll be a civilization on a planet orbiting that star who will build vast palaces out of pure rock crystal. And the inhabitants of that planet's primary moon will be some of the most skilled weavers in the universe. They'll create tapestries from impossibly thin filaments of gold and silver, studded with beads carved of semiprecious stones that mineralogists on Earth have never even heard of."

"Blimey." Wilf gazed on, enraptured equally by the spectacle he beheld and the words he was hearing. "Did you ever bring Donna here," he asked.

"No." Wilf could hear the enthusiasm draining from the Doctor's voice. Heard weariness take its place. "I always meant to, but I somehow never got around to it. How is she?"

"She's fine. Happy. She and Shaun just left on holiday for the Riviera. Says she's not coming back until she's as red as a lobster." With a low, sly chuckle, Wilf leaned in and lowered his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. "I snuck 'round just before she left and filled one of her bags with sunblock; I could barely get the bag zipped once I'd finished!"

"Good on you," the Doctor laughed, clapping him on the shoulder. "Those gingers, they always need to be careful of that." There was that mossy, wistful look again. As though he might be doing his level best to push something out of his mind.

Oddly, Wilf felt a strong need to act as distraction. "So, those people down there, think they'll ever come to Earth for a visit?"

"They'll never last long enough to develop their own space program," the Doctor responded, staring out across the nebula. "The star they'll orbit will burn out too quickly; the civilization will only have started toward the end of the star's life cycle."

"Oh. That's a shame."

"There are plenty of civilizations throughout the universe that never had a chance to develop fully, just because of the accident of what star their planet orbited." There was a low bitterness in the Doctor's voice as he stared at the vista. "The universe is full of beginnings and endings."

Wilf looked at the man beside him, the breathing paradox with the too-old eyes in the face of a boy. He felt it then, the weight of countless years lived, innumerable losses, immeasurable pain. He lifted a hand, wanting to rest it on the arm that was so close to him. Slowly closed his fingers around thin air, afraid that the attempt at comfort might be unwanted.

His heart ached for this impossible, young-looking man who'd seen more years than he himself could even dream of.

"Tell me something, Doctor," he whispered.

"What is it, Wilf?"

He swallowed around the lump that was forming in his throat. "Why have you done this," he asked, motioning to the gaseous luminescence outside. "Why me?"

"To thank you."

"For what?"

The Doctor stared at him for a long, silent time. "For being Donna's granddad," he murmured at last. "I needed her in those days. She...kept me sane." He turned away, slowly walking through the console room and up the stairs.

Taking one last wondering look at the nebula, Wilf carefully shut the door. "I can't take any credit for that. Donna's Donna."

"She's partly you. When she was traveling with me, she was loyal and brave and feisty and kind. I see all those things in you."

Wilf came to stand beside him, a hand absently thumping the console. "Credit where it's due; some of that feistiness came from her mum."

The Doctor chuckled, remembering. "Ah, yes. I can believe that. How is Sylvia?"

"She's fine. Not grumbling as much, now Donna's taken care of."

"That's good." He took a breath, as though somehow trying to steady himself. "Okay. If you won't let me thank you for being Donna's granddad, then let me thank you for being you. Wilfred Mott. A kind-hearted, brave man whom I've been proud to call my friend."

"But I killed you," Wilf protested, feeling tears stinging his eyes. He closed his eyes, remembering another, pinstriped Doctor, absorbing lethal amounts of radiation.

It's my honor...

"I killed you, Doctor," he whispered, feeling the tears sliding down his cheeks. "And I'm so, so sorry...I never killed a man in my life, until I killed you--"

"No, don't think that," the Doctor told him, his voice gently stern. "I don't want you to think things like that about yourself. Please don't. I'm here. See?" He stretched his arms out, slowly turning in place. "Alive and well," he grinned. "It's someone else's job to kill me."

The words were thrown out casually. But Wilf sensed the truth beneath them.

"You're going off to die again, aren't you," he demanded. "Is it the Master again? You can tell me, Doctor; maybe I can help. Old bugger like me may not be much help, but I can try--"

Long hands gently clasped his shoulders, squeezing softly. "No, Wilf. It's nothing like that. As far as I can tell, the Master's truly good and dead this time. This is..." He sighed, stepping away to the controls. "Something else. Something that can't be avoided. I have an appointment to keep." He chuckled quietly, throwing a switch. "Can't be late."

A few minutes later found them back in Chiswick. Reluctantly, Wilf stepped out of the TARDIS, the Doctor leaning in the doorway casually.

"Can't you just run away, Doctor," Wilf asked sadly. "You've got all of time and space in that machine of yours. Why can't you just run from whatever's coming?"

"I can't. I've been running all my life. But I always knew that I'd have to stop sometime." The Doctor smiled. "Just remember me, Wilfred Mott. Remember the Doctor, ey?"

Wilf nodded. "For Donna's sake, Doctor." He stood at attention. Gave one last salute.

"And for yours." The Doctor tipped his Stetson and backed into the TARDIS.

Date: 2015-03-30 08:18 am (UTC)
thisbluespirit: (dw - Eleven reading knitting book)
From: [personal profile] thisbluespirit
Aw, this is lovely!

Date: 2015-03-30 09:00 am (UTC)
kerravonsen: 11th Doctor and TARDIS (Doc11)
From: [personal profile] kerravonsen
Yes, so bittersweet.

"I've seen fire and I've seen rain
I've seen sunny days that I thought would never end
I've seen lonely times when I could not find a friend
But I always thought that I'd see you again."

Date: 2015-03-30 04:21 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] evelyn-b.livejournal.com
;____;


"I always miss everyone." This is perfect and I'm so glad you wrote it.

Date: 2015-03-30 04:59 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] shivver13.livejournal.com
Oh, that is brilliant and beautiful. I knew that prompt was wonderful, and when it was you who picked it up, I knew it would be glorious. Thank you!

Date: 2015-03-31 03:12 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] serenityslady.livejournal.com
You can see where Donna also got her humility. Wilf never saw himself as anything special either. But he was. And the Doctor is right: Wilf was very instrumental in making Donna who she was. And she DID keep him sane. The Time Lord Victorious would never have happened if she were still around.

This was a very lovely piece. There are far too few stories with Wilf in them, especially in a starring role. And I can well imagine Eleven seeking out someone he considers a friend after losing the Ponds. "I'd be proud...if you were my Dad." That bit always chokes me up, and I can so see Eleven remembering that in his despondent moments.

Thank you for sharing.

Date: 2015-04-01 05:45 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] scripsi.livejournal.com
Oh this was so beautiful! You made me cry! Wonderful story!

Date: 2015-04-01 10:10 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] scripsi.livejournal.com
Oh yes, you certainly can! <3

Date: 2015-04-02 02:40 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] scripsi.livejournal.com
But it is Lovely! I had to re-read it and you did such a wonderful job describing their realtionship! <3

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