Title: Too Close For Comfort
By: angstytimelord
Pairing: gen
Fandom: Doctor Who
Rating: PG-13
Table: 50_darkfics
Prompt: 62, Shadow
Author's Note: Spoilers for Smith & Jones, Silence in the Library, and Forest of the Dead.
Disclaimer: This is entirely a product of my own imagination, and I make no profit from it. I do not own the lovely Tenth Doctor, unfortunately. Please do not sue.

***

The Doctor looked around him cautiously, taking one step away from the Tardis, but not leaving the ship entirely. The readouts on the ship had shown that there was no life on this planet -- but he couldn't call the Vashta Nerada life, in the formal sense.

No, they were entirely the opposite, he thought grimly. Wherever they went, they drained away life and left nothing behind. He'd seen it happen too many times before -- and he wasn't about to take the risk of leaving his ship without being sure of what might be waiting for him.

There was no way to be sure, was there? The Doctor held back a sigh of exasperation, wanting to take another step forward, but not daring to. The shadows that lay only a few feet from the ship looked awfully ominous, and he was taking no chances.

He remembered all too clearly what the Vashta Nerada were capable of; he'd seen them take more than one life, while he'd had to stand by helplessly, unable to stop them. Though, in truth, it hadn't been his fault; he hadn't realized what was happening at first.

By the time he had, he'd done his best to turn back the flow of events, but he'd been unable to do so. He'd had to flee what had become a death trap, feeling that he was not only turning his back on his companion at the time, but on a world that needed his help.

He'd been able to avert a greater tragedy -- but that success had come with a price. It always did, he thought ruefully, his mind going back to the past, replaying events in his memory as though by searching through them, he could find a way to change what had taken place.

His attention was drawn back to the present and away from his thoughts by what he perceived as a slight movement from the corner of his eye. Was it his imagination, or had those shadows on his left begun to lengthen and stretch out towards the Tardis?

The Doctor kept his eyes on those shadows, but he saw no evidence of more movement. Still, the thought of what they could be was enough to keep him from taking another step out of the ship; he stayed on the threshold, one hand on the door frame.

It was normal for shadows to lengthen as the day came to an end, wasn't it? That happened on every planet with the onset of day descending into night; it wasn't as though shadows were something that he had to be cautious of, or hold in fear.

Unless he actually was dealing with the Vashta Nerada.

How could he tell if these shadows were an enemy, or simply a product of nature? If he left the safety of the Tardis to investigate, he could become caught in a trap that there was no escaping from before he even realized that he was in danger.

He'd had the life sucked out of him before; a Plasmavore had drunk his blood, and he certainly knew what it felt like to die. He was reborn each time that happened, of course, but that didn't discount the fact that it was a very unpleasant feeling.

Maybe he was just being ridiculously paranoid, and it was entirely safe to step away from the ship without taking any notice of those shadows. After all, it was late in the day, and it would make sense for twilight to be descending.

Just as the Doctor made the decision to step away from the Tardis, the shadows seemed to move toward him -- as thuogh they were waiting to wrap him in an deadly embrace. He hadn't imagined it this time; they had lengthened, stretching closer to him.

The Time Lord narrowed his eyes, looking around him at the deepening shadows -- and then above him at the tall trees that arched overhead .A canopy of trees that let bright sunlight filter down, right into the area where the shadows seemed to be gathering.

His eyes widened, a gasp coming from his throat. The sun was shining directly down onto the earth -- and yet those shadows were still multiplying and lengthening. That was all he needed to see as proof that he was indeed in mortal danger.

Slamming the Tardis' door behind him, he sprinted up the three steps that led to the control room, leaning over the console and frantically pressing the buttons that would take the ship back into the timestream, far away from the menace that waited outside.

As he felt the slight displacement of time and space, he heard what sounded like something sliding down the exterior of the ship; he stared at the door, shuddering at the thought that the Vashta Nerada had made a last-minute attempt to envelop the blue box.

With a sigh of relief, he slumped over the console, feeling more than a little weak in the knees. That had been close -- too close for comfort. He'd almost been ensnared in a trap that there would have been no escape from, before he'd had any idea of what he was walking into.

Taking a deep breath, the Doctor made his way to a chair and sat down, trying to calm his whirling senses and ponder the questions crowding into his mind. Why had the Vashta Nerada set a trap for him? And how had they managed to lure him to that planet?

He had far too many questions. And none of them would have any easy answers.

***