REWRITE THE STARS ― doctor who

impossible planet: part three

listened to the tortured poets department writing this so you might need therapy lol

Chapter Seventeen: Impossible Planet

♥✰♥

CLAUDIA EXPECTED TO OPEN HER EYES AND SEE LUCIFER IN FRONT OF HER.

Trapped in a small cage with two archangels plotting the torture of her soul for eternity.

She didn't expect to see Castiel.

"What?" She whispered, looking around the empty space her body seemed to exist in.

There was nothing as far as she could see. Empty space. A void of existence.

Nothing but her and Castiel.

"You can't do this," he walked towards her, footsteps echoing in the empty existence they stood in. "Claudia, I can't let you do this."

Confusion grew on her face, and she let him cup her cheek softly. "What do you mean?"

"Fight him."

—

Claudia awoke with a gasp, looking around with wide-eyes, searching for Castiel, for Lucifer, for Michael, for someone.

Her fear settled into relief when brown eyes caught hers.

"Claudia."

Trembling, she sank into his touch, letting him pull her to his chest, one hand gripping her hair, the other wrapped tightly around her waist.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, shaking against him.

His voice was soft, understanding, patient.

"It's alright," he calmed her quietly, tightening his grip on her. "You're safe, Claudia. You're alright."

Claudia didn't want to move. Didn't want to think about Castiel or Lucifer or the fact that one was protecting her from the other. Or the fact that she had trapped herself in a cage so like her brother's, but on the physical plane.

Castiel was strong, but he was no competition for Lucifer.

And Lucifer would toy with her, cradle her into safety before piercing her skin with viper fangs and drinking her dry. He would make the Doctor hold her lifeless body and laugh as she stood next to him, begging for the deal to be reversed.

But her voice had been clear, her intentions pure with only the love for her family in mind. Blood-stained hands washed clear of the pain would once again be covered in red, if only from tearing her heart out so it could beat for the people that would never understand why it stopped in the first place.

Her mind trailed to Lucifer; his sick satisfaction twisting a knife into her soul, mocking as the light left her eyes and retired it in place of a barren wasteland.

The Doctor's hands cupped her face, centering her. Tethering her back the ground under her legs. Guiding her soul back to her body, the pain in her limbs separating from the pain in her chest.