Am I...? ('Blur' entry)
Sep. 14th, 2015 09:36 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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Title: 'Am I...?'
Rating: G
Genre: Angst/Introspection
Word Count: 232
Pairings or Characters: Clara Oswald, Twelfth Doctor; mentions of the Eleventh Doctor
Spoilers: Takes place early in 'Into the Dalek', from which the italicized lines are lifted; brief reference to 'The Time of the Doctor'
Warnings: None
Summary: I'm not sure what to tell him. I always thought he was a good man.
"Am I a good man?"
I'm not sure what to tell him. I always thought he was a good man.
But things are different now. The lines have blurred. Everything that used to be black-and-white has faded. Like salt-and-pepper hair that used to be dark brown. Or indistinct, untrusting eyes that once were as inviting as a mossy forest floor.
He's not the same man. At least, he is and isn't. I know he's still the Doctor; that much is concrete. I can't not know; I saw him regenerate.
I know, deep down, that he's still him. Somewhere, buried far beneath the abrasiveness and sarcasm, is the Doctor I used to know.
I miss that man. This man is one I'll need time to get used to. He needs breaking in, like a new pair of shoes. He's not even used to himself yet. The face isn't lived-in, the mannerisms are still half-learned. We'll both adjust to the new Doctor with time.
But, right now...he's so new that he doesn't even know how to define himself. I'm flattered that he trusts me enough to do that for him. Not everyone is lucky enough to have the Doctor's trust.
But I can't define him. Not yet. It's too soon for me to be able to answer his question.
Well. He wants me to be completely honest. So I will be.
"I don't know."
Rating: G
Genre: Angst/Introspection
Word Count: 232
Pairings or Characters: Clara Oswald, Twelfth Doctor; mentions of the Eleventh Doctor
Spoilers: Takes place early in 'Into the Dalek', from which the italicized lines are lifted; brief reference to 'The Time of the Doctor'
Warnings: None
Summary: I'm not sure what to tell him. I always thought he was a good man.
"Am I a good man?"
I'm not sure what to tell him. I always thought he was a good man.
But things are different now. The lines have blurred. Everything that used to be black-and-white has faded. Like salt-and-pepper hair that used to be dark brown. Or indistinct, untrusting eyes that once were as inviting as a mossy forest floor.
He's not the same man. At least, he is and isn't. I know he's still the Doctor; that much is concrete. I can't not know; I saw him regenerate.
I know, deep down, that he's still him. Somewhere, buried far beneath the abrasiveness and sarcasm, is the Doctor I used to know.
I miss that man. This man is one I'll need time to get used to. He needs breaking in, like a new pair of shoes. He's not even used to himself yet. The face isn't lived-in, the mannerisms are still half-learned. We'll both adjust to the new Doctor with time.
But, right now...he's so new that he doesn't even know how to define himself. I'm flattered that he trusts me enough to do that for him. Not everyone is lucky enough to have the Doctor's trust.
But I can't define him. Not yet. It's too soon for me to be able to answer his question.
Well. He wants me to be completely honest. So I will be.
"I don't know."
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