literature

It's My Fault- Dr. Who SI-fic

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Literature Text

   The Doctor sat on the floor of the bathroom, leaning against his bathtub, his skinny arms wrapped around his knees. He bent over so his head was in his lap and cried. Shaking and coughing, he sobbed into his knees. 
   Why did they always leave him? Why did everyone he cared about either die or get pulled away from him They all were gone- Sarah Jane, Rose, Martha, Donna- and his extreme depression spilled over that day. 
   The Doctor was having a terrible day- Amy and Rory were irritated at him and he didn't know why, he got appoximately half an hour of sleep the previous night, and the TARDIS controls weren't working. All of his anger, confusion and sadness mixed together, and it spilled over.
   'I deserve it,' he thought, fighting to control himself. 'It's my fault they all leave, anyhow. I know that now. I put them in so much danger, and they've been nearly killed. And it's all because of me. Me, who wiped Donna's memory. Me, who trapped Rose in the alternate universe. Me, who was so terrible to Martha, because of Rose. Me, the mad man with the box, who prefers the company of the young. 
   'They all leave me. I cry, I beg, I plead every night for someone to come back, but I know they won't come back. Not for me. Not now, anyway. I'll be around for the rest of their lives, but they won't be for the rest of mine. I just wished, hoped that one would come back.' 
   The Doctor slowly stood up and rolled his shirt sleeves up to the elbow. He slowly opened the top drawer in his vanity and pulled out a razor.
   Climbing inside of his clawfoot bathtub, he took off the plastic cover and cast it aside. Then he drew the razor quickly down his left forearm, digging into the skin, leaving a cut.
   "This one's for Rose."
   He repeated the action.
   "This one's for Donna."
   Cut.
   "This one's for Rory and Amy."
   Cut.
   "This one's for Martha."
   Cut. He traced a finger over one of the cuts, almost smiling. It hurt at first, and then the hurt changed to what was the closest to pleasure he had felt in a long time. He gently wiped off the blood with a tissue, and then resumed his self-injury.
   "Rose."
   Cut.
   "Martha."
   Cut.
   "Donna."
   Cut.
   "Amy."
   Cut.
   "Rose."
   Cut.
   "Martha."
   Cut.
   "Donna."
   Cut.
   "Amy."
   Cut.
   'It's alright,' he thought, starting in on his right arm. 'It's okay because it's my fault.'
aaauggh more angst-y-ness! so a friend of mine recently told me that she was self-injuring (i think my long lecture about the evils of cutting oneself and my attempts at cheering her up may have worked...? i hope?), and i read something about cutting the other day, and i was just angsty today, and this thing came up.
blargh.
so i don't even know what this is. we'll call it 'It's My Fault.' that's a non-crappy name, right?
this is whump!Doctor and SI!Doctor. i may write more chapters, if i ever get around to finishing everything else i have going (sorry i haven't posted yet! i WILL get to my non-named fic, i promise!)
so here you go. comment, rate, subscr- oh wait, this isn't Youtube. ooohhhhh. 
:D
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LeafyArtz's avatar
No doctor noo why?!!