Disclaimer: If it was mine, I wouldn't need to be writing this... you'd be watching it on TV.
Author's Note: End of Time brought up way too many questions in my mind that weren't answered. Most of them are presented here in one form or another. The rest of this is, well... wishful thinking.
x x x
"D, world destruction,
Over and overture,
N, do I need,
Apostrophe T,
need this torture?"
-Common Rotation, Don't Lets Start.
x x x
Chapter 1: Discord
x x x
Gwen and Rhys were at home, together. Alone. Tomorrow was Christmas, and they would have the severe displeasure of visiting family-members that didn't get on with each other, of exchanging more libellous pleasantries than actual gifts... followed by one of Rhys's culinary masterpieces once they escaped that hell.
But for now, it was one of those quiet evenings in, where the rest of the world really didn't matter at all. Where they could forget about everything bad that had ever happened, and just enjoy being together.
And oh boy were they enjoying themselves. Gwen was honestly amazed at Rhys's continued talent for romantic spontaneity... somehow managing to make a quickie on the couch before dinner seem like the sweetest romantic gesture of this soon-to-end decade.
She should have known it was too good to last.
Rhys started to shake his head, and he seemed really disoriented. She looked up at him with concern, but just before she could ask if he was okay, things got really weird. His head looked like it was spinning, really fast... even the Exorcist didn't get this good a special effect, and she screamed.
"Rhys!" she tried to sit up or at least back away from him, but... well, between his beer-belly and her bump, he was sort of pinning her. Then all of a sudden he fell down on top of her... but he wasn't Rhys.
She was so horrified that she couldn't find her voice to scream, now... staring up at an unfamiliar face where her husband had been mere seconds ago. And it wasn't just the face that was different... his body was fitter, skinnier. She tried to get away from him, but his hands were on her shoulders now, as he stared down at her, a slightly confused frown on his not-unattractive face.
"Well this is unexpected." he said, before laughing. A mad sort of laugh that made her want to slap some sense into him. Except now she was practically petrified, and wouldn't have been able to even if he hadn't been holding her down. "Oh, I am so glad you're not human." he laughed, sitting up properly now, and letting her go.
Gwen scrambled away quickly, fixing her clothes and staring at this intruder with shock and disgust, "What are you talking about?" she demanded angrily. She went to stand up- to get her gun from the drawer in the bedroom- but he caught her by the waist, causing her to shriek in fear. His hand over her mouth stopped her short.
"Shh, listen to me. Just listen." he insisted, pulling her back down onto the couch, next to him. Very reluctantly, she stopped fighting, turning to glare at him as he let go of her again.
As she settled nervously at the far end on the couch, she realised he was looking down at his own clothes, "A Simpsons t-shirt, are you kidding me?" he asked, bemused, pulling the t-shirt out to its full width, to see just how ridiculously too-big it looked on him... before glancing at the now quite loose ring on his left hand, "You actually married this man?"
Gwen cleared her throat sharply, "You said listen. Start making sense, then." she insisted angrily, arms folded and her best intimidating stare aimed his way, full-force.
He grinned, "Alright. Short version." he said, utterly unperturbed by the stare that would always make Rhys bend to her authority, "I- that is, the original me- activated a genetic manipulation device, attuned to human DNA. End result, every human on this planet is now, well... me." A bright grin lit his face, now, "And you have no idea how happy I am that you're not human."
"Why's that, then?" Gwen asked coldly.
"It could have been very painful... messy... disfiguring. Possibly for both of us." he admitted, shrugging, "Don't think I thought that part through... really should have, but find me an instant in time when the entire planet is abstinent... just not gonna happen." He winced, "Almost pity the rest of... me." he muttered, seeming unsure whether he should have said 'me' or 'us'.
"But why- why would anyone do something like this?" Gwen cried, utterly horrified at this entire situation, and subconsciously moving her hand to her abdomen. His eyes followed her hand now, and he seemed to be thinking.
"To destroy the human race." he said, with an idle shrug as if this was perfectly normal.
"Oh... you're one of those aliens." Gwen muttered darkly, really not sure if she should take his word for it or not, but she'd go with it for now, as she seemed to have little choice. "But I am human."
"You're not." he said bluntly, "We wouldn't be talking like this if you were. In fact... I think you'd be dead."
"D-dead? Not just... turned into- into you?" she asked nervously.
"Mmhm. In theory, that-" he pointed to her belly, "Might have killed you. Possibly." he shook his head, "Maybe... I'm not sure. Like I said, though... messy."
Gwen cringed, horrified at the very thought, and was so busy trying desperately not to think about it that she barely noticed as he shifted to sit closer to her. At least, not until he was leaning in close to her neck, and sniffing her. She jumped, startled, "What are you doing!"
"You smell like Nostrovite." he said with almost gleeful surprise.
"I- I what?" she asked, horrified.
"You were bitten by a Nostrovite?" he asked, grinning now.
She nodded, stunned, "Of course, you know that, it was at our wedding... Jack made a joke about it eating half the guest-list."
"No. I'm not your husband." he said darkly, "I can only tell because I can smell it in your blood. A few racially recessive elements of your DNA were corrupted by the bite. Made you a compatible host, but didn't change anything else of importance." He met her eyes now, fascinated... and she leaned back, away from him, onto the arm of the couch, "That's why you weren't turned."
Something in his eyes was incredibly unsettling, a sort of hunger... but then he sniffed once more, this time at the air, "Mmmm, what smells so good?" he asked.
"You- uh, I- I mean Rhys, my husband- was cooking dinner." she said, pointing towards the kitchen. His eyes lit up and he actually kissed her, before leaping from the couch and charging into the kitchen.
Gwen darted quickly into the bedroom, retrieved her gun and hid it at her back, in the waistband of her jeans. Then made her way into the kitchen.
By the time she got there, the spaghetti bolognaise that she and Rhys had been planning on sharing- for up to three nights' dinners, judging by how much he cooked in one go, and his unnatural ability to make leftovers taste just as good as the first night they were cooked- was in one big bowl on the kitchen table, and this intruder was devouring it.
Gwen stared in amazement, "You're hungry, then?" she asked nervously, standing on the far side of the table, forcing herself to keep her hands at her sides, instead of folding her arms defensively... it was easier to reach her gun, this way.
"Mmm." he quickly swallowed the mouthful of food he had just taken, and looked up at her with a frightening grin, "Starving."
"Yeah, well touch those pickles in the fridge, Mister, and you'll be missing body-parts." she warned, only half-joking.
He glanced at the fridge, almost dismissively in favour of the hot food before him, then his eyes drifted to her stomach, once more, "Those are all yours, love." he said, before continuing to eat at an alarming rate. "And it's Master."
"What?" Gwen asked, confused now.
"My name..." he said, giving her a blank sort of look as if this should have made perfect sense to her, "Master... not Mister."
"Master?" she repeated, "Bit dramatic, isn't it?" she muttered, not sure if she even intended him to hear that or not.
"Just a bit." he mumbled, before taking another bite of the food.
Gwen stared at him, confused, frightened and a bit hurt that he was ignoring her now. He may not be anything like Rhys, but somehow she still felt like he should be.
She sighed sadly, and crossed the kitchen to turned on the TV, jumping in shock when she saw the same face there... wearing the women's suit that the newsreader usually wore. She glanced at the man who was stealing her Christmas-eve dinner, startled at the resemblance... and at this piece of evidence that he might actually be telling the truth.
The one on the TV was laughing like a madman, and she felt very little doubt that that was the perfect word for him. She changed the channel. A different newsreader, but the same face. She shuddered and kept flicking through until she got to a channel that was showing Patrick Stewart's Christmas Carol.
Trying to ignore the sickening thought that all these actors probably now looked like this man in her kitchen, she turned back to see that the bowl was now half-empty.
"Is your stomach dimensionally transcendental, or something?" she blurted out.
He looked up at her sharply, dropping the fork and staring. She was amazed that he had managed to eat so much spaghetti without getting even a drop of the sauce on his face, "Where did you hear that term?"
"My... my boss, he told me... I..." she stammered to a stop at the rage in his eyes.
"Your boss?" he asked, standing slowly, and approaching her ominously, "I've no idea who you're talking about, but I suddenly feel the irresistible urge to punch his lights out." He stopped about a foot in front of her, looming ominously in a way Rhys would never have been able to pull off, "Tell me who you work for."
Gwen stumbled back against the counter, "T-Torchwood." she said weakly.
He rolled his eyes, then rolled his head around on his neck in a circular motion, "Harkness." he seemed to hiss, exasperated and irritated by that name.
"Yes." Gwen said, her hand slowly reaching for her gun now.
But then before she could blink, he was right in front of her and had caught her wrist, "You think I'm stupid?" he asked, pulling the gun out from behind her back, "Your shirt was tucked in before I came in here, but not when you followed me." he explained. She stared at him, wide-eyed and fearful... and he leaned a little closer, "You're bloody beautiful." he whispered.
Gwen tried to pull away when she realised he was about to kiss her, and he stopped... frowned, then took a step back, still holding the gun. She saw him blink a couple of time, then shake his head and turn away from her, clearly confused by his own actions.
Starting to pace, he shook his head, "This is wrong." he said angrily.
"You're telling me?" she demanded, stunned by his sudden change in demeanour.
"I shouldn't be-" completely ignoring her now, he seemed to be muttering to himself, and she only caught a few words at a time as he paced irritably, "Not possible- programming was foolproof- wouldn't allow for any- I can't... aww, this just isn't fair!" he complained, finally turning back to face her.
The look on his face was almost funny. Might actually have made her laugh, if he wasn't waving the gun around now. And his next words really didn't help, either.
"I should just kill you." he said directly, pointing the gun at her, "You're a threat to the plan, a- a rogue element. Unpredictable, know too much, far too intelligent... and you're one of his. But I..." he lowered the gun, let his hand fall to his side only holding the weapon loosely, now, "I don't want to."
Gwen frowned, tentatively stepping closer to him, "Why not?" she asked, trying to sound innocently hopeful, rather than anything that might make him think that he ought to change his mind.
He just stared at her with a sort of lost puppy expression, which looked so completely out of place on that face. "I have no idea." he said, laughing weakly, "There's no logical reason for me not to kill you."
Gwen watched him sadly, no longer so afraid as she took another step closer to him, "You mentioned a plan...?" she asked gently. Now acting more like she was dealing with a skittish animal, rather than a vicious one.
He laughed, a short and sharp bark of a laugh, "As if I'd tell you!" he said, shaking his head... and now he backed away from her. "I'm letting you live, that's more than most people get."
But then a thought occurred to her, "You said I was 'bloody beautiful'...?" she asked.
"Well you are." he conceded, before adding much more rudely- and it seemed with the deliberate intent of breaking the tension- "For a human."
Gwen laughed nervously, "Maybe my Rhys is still in there, somewhere, then. Because the way you said it before sounded exactly like something he'd say."
The intruder stared at darkly, "Your husband is dead. Accept it. All that's left is me, and I'm here to stay."
x x x
It had been three months. Three long months searching. How could one tiny little planet hold so many hiding places? It was ridiculous. But finally, he had found what he'd been looking for.
It was a run-down dump of a place, really. Cheap motel somewhere in America... not too far from a building with a conspicuously high level of extra-terrestrial technology... as if he was there on purpose, maybe. Didn't matter.
He'd found the right place, he could literally smell him now. The entire building had his scent all over it. He'd recently walked these corridors, touched the walls, even kissed the receptionist.
John Hart stopped outside the door, behind which he was certain he would find Jack Harkness, and he knocked.
A slight irritable twitch in the back of his mind distracted him for an instant, as he heard movement from within the room. He knocked again, getting impatient.
"I'm coming!" Jack's voice called from within the room.
'I'll bet!' John thought snidely, but daren't say it aloud. Didn't want to give his ex-lover warning of just who was waiting here for him. He knocked again.
A flash if vertigo, and the sound of laughter in his mind. John shook his head to make it go away. He'd been having bad dreams for a month, now... that face. That insane gleefully laughing face.
He shook his head again to try to get it out, but it wouldn't go away.
"Just a second." he heard Jack shout distantly, as if his mind was far removed from reality.
Then the door opened, just as the world faded into a blur of black and cackling laughter.
And the last thing he knew was the sound of Jack's voice yelling in shock and horror.
x x x
UNIT HQ, Geneva.
The commanding officer was now dead. He hadn't been human enough, by the look of things. They weren't sure what he was... looked human, certainly. Even smelled human.
"Well, looks like I'm in charge, now." the one who had killed him said, holding up his gun as if daring anyone else to challenge him.
"I'm the next-highest ranking officer." one of them pointed out, tapping the stripes on his uniform for emphasis, "I figure I ought to be in line for a promotion, now."
"Want to claim that promotion posthumously, do we?" the killer asked.
"Any one of us is qualified to lead, here." another pointed out from a computer station, "Just make up our minds and get on with it, already."
"You could do with being silenced permanently, and all." the one with the gun pointed out.
"Just a little taste of power and we always want more." the computer operator sighed, returning to his screen... a second later the screen was covered in his brains.
"Still want to challenge me?" he asked the other officer... who, in spite of wearing a truly mutinous expression, did back down. "Anyone else like to say anything? No? Good!"
The murderer carefully removed the coat with stripes on it from the dead commanding officer, and quickly threw it on over the rest of his uniform... then stole the man's hat, as well.
x x x
Martha Jones was in the middle of the desert. She wasn't sure why she let UNIT give her these rubbish jobs... wasn't there an entire organisation in this area devoted to alien crash sites? But noooo, she got sent to investigate the crater in the middle of nowhere. Alone. On Christmas eve.
Just because they'd detected something that looked like temporal displacement. "Why is it always me?" she muttered with a sigh, before very carefully allowing herself to slide down the edge of the crater.
A few steps in and she saw it.
"Space junk!" she shouted loudly to the deserted- well, desert! "This is Torchwood's mess, not mine." she continued to herself, "Bloody rift, I ought to tell Jack exactly where he can shove it."
After scanning it to ensure it wasn't radioactive, she picked up the twisted bit of time-warped and useless metal. If she had to guess it used to be... yep, Sontaran blaster, completely ruined and worthless. Why was she not surprised?
Just then, her phone rang.
She glanced down at it, wondering how she was getting a signal out here. Then she looked at caller-ID. Unknown. She considered ignoring it, but then wondered why anyone with this boring an evening wouldn't want to talk to someone? So she answered it.
"Hello? Hello?" the female voice on the other end asked, sounding almost panicked.
"Gwen?" she asked, unsure.
"Yeah, yeah it's me. Oh, thank god you're you!" Gwen said quickly, "Look, I know this is bad timing, and all... but... um... have you noticed the world ending at all?"
"Nnnno." Martha said, looking skywards and seeing nothing unusual, "Not recently."
"You're alone, then." Gwen said with some certainty.
"How'd you guess?" Martha asked, both snidely annoyed at her utterly worthless mission, and confused at how Gwen had known she was alone.
"Because everyone in the world who's all-human has... changed." Gwen said with a wary note that implied she was watching someone else... someone who had 'changed'.
"Everyone who's all-human?" Martha asked unsure, "Gwen... unless you've been hiding something from me, we're both human."
"Nostrovite bite... corrupted my DNA. I'm guessing the Reset might have affected you." Gwen said quickly.
Given that suggestion, Martha added a few of her own, "Or maybe it was the Sontarans. Might have been the time the Doctor kissed me... or-"
"Well how doesn't matter." Gwen interrupted urgently, "We need to do something... I- I just don't know what."
"What about the Doctor?" Martha asked, "Is he here? On Earth?"
"I don't know." Gwen answered, and Martha couldn't hear the words of a muttered conversation, guessing Gwen put her hand over the phone for it, before finally she answered, "He's on Earth, but... might need rescuing."
"Again?" Martha complained, laughing weakly, before taking on a business-like tone, "Alright, where is he? What can we do?"
Gwen hesitated, as if listening to instructions or advice, "Phone could be bugged." she said bluntly, "Remember I told you about the time Jack and I went camping?"
"Yeah." Martha said warily. The tale had actually involved the entire team... and a pack of cannibals... but Gwen had just made it sound like a personal thing. Probably for the benefit of whoever might be ingenious enough to bug their phones.
"Can you meet us there?"
"Might take a while... but I'll do my best."
"Why, where are you?" Gwen asked, confused.
"Oh... about a couple of miles from Area 51."
x x x
The Master- well, three of him- had just tied the Doctor down to the elaborate chair... thing. Wilf was restrained as well, but much less dramatically so. The other three had left now, and the Doctor, Wilf and the original Master were alone, with only one guard and a great big video screen to communicate with the rest of the world.
"Now then, I've got a planet to run." the Master whispered eagerly in his ear. It made the Doctor feel sick at the thought of it. He crossed the room to a large view-screen, and asked, "Is everybody ready?"
"Six billion, seven hundred and twenty-seven million, nine hundred and forty-nine thousand three hundred and thirty-eight versions of us awaiting orders." one of the Masters on the view-screen answered.
Those numbers didn't fit with the human population estimates... the Doctor was sure of it.
The screen switched to another image, but before that Master now on the screen could speak, the doors behind the Doctor banged open with dramatic flair, "Look what I found!" another Master announced gleefully. The Doctor dreaded to think what it was... nothing that could invoke that tone of voice in the Master could possibly be good.
Every one of them- the original Master and all the ones on the screen- was staring at the newcomer in surprise now, expressing various levels of excitement, amusement, enthusiasm and... in some, jealousy.
This new arrival swept past the Doctor and into the centre of the room... where he stopped right in front of the Doctor, spinning on the spot, holding his arms out to show off the fact that he was wearing Jack Harkness's clothes, complete with that distinctive military greatcoat.
Laughing far too enthusiastically, he stopped spinning, facing the original Master and bowed his head slightly before saluting. "At your service, sir!" he cheered.
"Oh yes!" the Master- the original one- crowed, laughing. Several of the others applauded this turn of events, as well. "I did wonder if he was even human!" he laughed, "Isn't this just brilliant, Doctor?" he taunted.
The Doctor glowered at him darkly, pain showing in his eyes as he stared at the one wearing Jack's clothes. It was bad enough to consider that a vast number of people he'd never met had been changed like this... but someone he considered a friend... it hurt so much more.
The newcomer moved to stand just behind the Doctor, as the original Master returned his attention to the screens. Reports from all the world powers, now controlled by various versions of the Master, came in announcing the immediate transfer of all the planet's weapons and defences to the original Master.
x x x