Disclaimer: I own nothing but my own OCs, should I create any for these stories.
Author's Note: Set sometime before the serial Inferno for Parallel!Benton, and some indeterminate amount of time in-between Inferno and Terror of the Autons for our Benton.
Not entirely sure how I feel about how this turned out, but then again, I don't really know what I was expecting when I got the idea of UNIT!Benton facing off against Inferno!Benton. Hopefully you like it, though.
Sergeant Benton had seen some fairly odd things in his time working with UNIT, but this really had to be the most surreal thing he had ever experienced - someone who looked exactly like him was holding him at gunpoint.
He'd been taken by surprise when the oddly-uniformed man had suddenly appeared in front of him from out of thin air, and quicker than he knew it, he had been clubbed over the head with the intruder's gun. Stunned, he'd fallen to his knees, and his captor took that opportunity to bind his hands; quite well, he might add. He'd tried to explain that he meant no harm to the man, but his captor was having none of it, saying a hostage guaranteed he would get what he wanted, then dragged Benton to his feet roughly. He'd then been impatiently prodded along toward the Brigadier's office, which he'd been forced to give the location of (he'd actually used the phrase "Take me to your Leader", which Benton would have found hilarious in any other context). Apparently this other version of him wasn't averse to using force to get what they wanted.
He'd tried asking who his captor was and where he was from; for that matter, if he was even human, but all that had gotten him was a snapped "Of course I'm human, idiot!" and another prod to his already-abused ribs urging him to move faster. Benton had tried struggling, but what he hadn't factored in was the fact that his captor was of the same build as him and was just as strong, if not stronger than he was. Needless to say, it hadn't ended well.
Once inside the Brig's office, the story had spilled out - the man was apparently Platoon Under Leader Benton of the Republican Security Forces, and he had found himself transported here from his base while overseeing some scientists dealing with foreign technology. He then demanded that the Brigadier send him back to his own base or risk his soldier's life, punctuating his point by moving his gun up from the Sergeant's ribs to his head.
Ever unflappable in the face of certain danger, the Brigadier had simply raised an eyebrow, telling the intruder that he really wasn't the person to speak to - he should really speak to the Scientific Advisor. The man had then ordered the Brigadier to say nothing and allow him to go there unhindered, as he wouldn't hesitate to shoot his prisoner if need be.
So saying, they had immediately headed down to the lab before the Brig had had a chance to protest, where the Platoon Under Leader had proceeded to try and strong-arm the Doctor into sending him back as well. Oddly, the Doctor hadn't looked all that shocked at seeing a duplicate Benton; he looked more so like he'd seen a ghost.
All in all, though, he'd managed to sort out the problem relatively quickly, rigging up some sort of makeshift transport device by handing a pair of wires to the interloper and flipping some switches on his TARDIS console. Once that awful version of Benton was sent back to where he'd come from, it couldn't have come fast enough for the abused Sergeant. He'd had enough of being a hostage, especially when it was apparent that his doppelgänger seemed all too comfortable with the idea of cruelty for the sake of cruelty.
Fortunately, the Doctor seemed certain that they would never see him again; before he had sent the Platoon Under Leader back, he'd done something with his sonic screwdriver that had knocked the man out. The Doctor explained to Benton that what he'd done was overload his brain so he wouldn't remember this encounter, as some knowledge was too dangerous to leave in the wrong hands.
For his part, Benton just wanted a drink or several at this point so he could forget this bizarre and not entirely pleasant afternoon. Perhaps the Brigadier would let him off early, given the extenuating circumstances? Ah well - he could dream, anyway.