Journey
folder
1 through F › Dark City
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
22
Views:
1,331
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
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Currently Reading:
0
Category:
1 through F › Dark City
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
22
Views:
1,331
Reviews:
0
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
Disclaimer: I do not own or make any money off Dark City or its lovely boys, or this story :)
The High Priestess: This is Not your Path
Tarot - High Priestess
This is Not your Path
Somehow, Shell Beach was not what he had expected it to be. Or rather, it was exactly as he expected it to be, and that was the problem. Every stone, tree, flower, they were all here because of him. No surprises, nothing new to learn or to explore. And so the days felt wooden, predictable. Anna was sweet and kind, but not the Emma he remembered. Still, he persisted in his chase. She was all he knew. And her laughter made him smile, made him forget about his troubles for a short time.
Exploring Shell Beach one day, she slipped on a rock, falling, gashing open her thigh. Red blood on her white dress, on the sharp rocks, on the white sand. Too much blood. He was at her side in an instant, pressing his shirt to her wound, feeling strangely calm despite her trembling form, clinging to him, gasping whimpers of pain.
Healing her came as easily as changing a building, but required a little more focus, eyes closed to sense the tissue and veins, skin, muscle, bone. So many tiny things to correct, but in the end she was whole, the stain on her dress and his shirt the only witness to what had happened. He carried her back to his house in silence, turning over and over in his mind how he was going to explain it all to her.
"Are you an angel?" She asked finally, softly, as he set her down to rest on the couch to rest.
He gave a soft chuckle. "No. Just a man that doesn't fit in this world." Wordlessly, he Tuned her a new dress, handing it to her despite the look in her eyes, awe with a hint of fear. "I won't look, if you want to change."
He turned his back, listening to the soft rustle of clothes as she changed, her soft question. "How do you do these things?"
A laugh, sounding more bitter than he expected. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
A hand on his shoulder. "Try me."
And suddenly, he wanted to tell her, wanted something to lift this burden off his shoulders. It all came spilling out - the start of it, waking up in the bathroom with the dead hooker and no memory, the Doctor, the Strangers, his marriage to her past self, Emma, and their difficulties. How it ended in pain and more fake memories, the Doctor's lessons to control his abilities, defeat the strangers. Everything he could remember.
She listened quietly, sometimes asking questions, and in the end she nodded. Accepting him. "I don't think this life in Shell Beach is meant for you," she told him. "Living the same as everyone else will just make you unhappy. You've been given amazing gifts... you need to embrace them. Use them. Perhaps your Doctor friend can help you?"
They made love for the first time that night, but somehow it was awkward, and he realized that whatever spark he had felt for Emma, Anna could not produce in him.
It was time to move on.
This is Not your Path
Somehow, Shell Beach was not what he had expected it to be. Or rather, it was exactly as he expected it to be, and that was the problem. Every stone, tree, flower, they were all here because of him. No surprises, nothing new to learn or to explore. And so the days felt wooden, predictable. Anna was sweet and kind, but not the Emma he remembered. Still, he persisted in his chase. She was all he knew. And her laughter made him smile, made him forget about his troubles for a short time.
Exploring Shell Beach one day, she slipped on a rock, falling, gashing open her thigh. Red blood on her white dress, on the sharp rocks, on the white sand. Too much blood. He was at her side in an instant, pressing his shirt to her wound, feeling strangely calm despite her trembling form, clinging to him, gasping whimpers of pain.
Healing her came as easily as changing a building, but required a little more focus, eyes closed to sense the tissue and veins, skin, muscle, bone. So many tiny things to correct, but in the end she was whole, the stain on her dress and his shirt the only witness to what had happened. He carried her back to his house in silence, turning over and over in his mind how he was going to explain it all to her.
"Are you an angel?" She asked finally, softly, as he set her down to rest on the couch to rest.
He gave a soft chuckle. "No. Just a man that doesn't fit in this world." Wordlessly, he Tuned her a new dress, handing it to her despite the look in her eyes, awe with a hint of fear. "I won't look, if you want to change."
He turned his back, listening to the soft rustle of clothes as she changed, her soft question. "How do you do these things?"
A laugh, sounding more bitter than he expected. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
A hand on his shoulder. "Try me."
And suddenly, he wanted to tell her, wanted something to lift this burden off his shoulders. It all came spilling out - the start of it, waking up in the bathroom with the dead hooker and no memory, the Doctor, the Strangers, his marriage to her past self, Emma, and their difficulties. How it ended in pain and more fake memories, the Doctor's lessons to control his abilities, defeat the strangers. Everything he could remember.
She listened quietly, sometimes asking questions, and in the end she nodded. Accepting him. "I don't think this life in Shell Beach is meant for you," she told him. "Living the same as everyone else will just make you unhappy. You've been given amazing gifts... you need to embrace them. Use them. Perhaps your Doctor friend can help you?"
They made love for the first time that night, but somehow it was awkward, and he realized that whatever spark he had felt for Emma, Anna could not produce in him.
It was time to move on.