My god, my first DW fic! Granted, it's a one shot, but oh well. Writer's block is a bench, and a snippy little story will hopefully give me the boost to continue my other fic.
A weird ship, Rose and the Master. Sigh, I swore to myself a very long time ago I'd only ship characters who had met before. But this is fanfiction, we don't care about no canon (sarcasm).
It has no time or place in the Whoniverse, and I own only the clothes on my back. Actually my friend left them at my house.
"It burns."
"I know, control it." There's fire behind her eyelids. It dances right there along that little spot, the wire that connects the eyes to a pounding brain. Sparks, flames, fireworks. Sizzles, pops, burns. The pain spreads like poison, biting into each cell. She's beginning to wonder whether this is a gift or a curse; he calls it a gift every time he holds her trembling body. Oh, how much power she has, how she can stay here, with him, forever. Oh, but she wanted to spend forever with another man. There's another Time Lord; the one who travels around in a funny blue box and loves bananas, who has a kind face and funny taste in suits. The oil bubbles then pops. It sizzles away on the burner.
"He's gone, you know." He'll tell her, watching for the tears. "He's forgotten you, too. Changed his face again, left you alone."
"Rose?" There she is, the once strong companion now curled up in the arms of his adversary. He looks down into her eyes, smiling at the running mascara. "Ro-ose," he sing-songs, "are you listening to me?" She wants so badly to scream and cry, to tell him that she isn't listening because he's shoving the drums down her ears to a point where hearing anything above them is impossible. It's so noisy in her head right now. There are the drums, of course, and they pound along with the beating of her pulse. The ringing is interrupted by pops, whirlwinds, and cymbals crashing. But outside of her mind, where the air conditioner is near freezing, it's all silent except for the Master's hushes and her whimpers.
Her head lolls back onto his shoulder and she looks up at him as if she wants to say something. Rose Tyler remains silent.
"Poor thing." he says, his voice holding nothing short of amusement. "Poor, poor little Rosie." She let's out appropriate whines when he kisses down her neck.
"I-it-" Rose manages out between coughs. She might as well be swallowing her own tongue. "It hurts so much."
He doesn't say anything, just moves a hand to press her head against his chest. Rose feels those two hearts, one slightly off beat. They match perfectly with the pounding in her head - the vibrating bass to go along with the maddening noise.
Du du du dum
One, two, three, four. Pause, then lather rinse repeat.
She refuses to take anymore of this. With whatever energy is left floating around inside she begins to thrash. Fears be damned, she tries to land a quick blow to his ever-smug face. She sadly misses by a long shot. The Master catches the weak wrist, laughing at how pathetic she is.
"Nuh-uh-hu." He crushes her tighter against him. His fingers tangle deeply into her hair. "Nice try, but not good enough." As if to prove a point, he forces her into a harsh kiss. She loves him, loves what he is. Rose loves the stubble against her cheeks, that sly grin he gives her. But times like this, when he's trying to twist her into a weapon of mass destruction, she absolutely hates him and his little exploitation schemes.
He quickly pushes her away, cutting off all the noise and burning. What's left of Bad Wolf seeps back into her bones.
They'll practice control another day.