Summary: YTNW fic. Heavily implied non con. 'Every few days The Master would come to him again, and when he'd finished things would always take the same format. He'd ask the same sort of questions and The Doctor would give the same sort of answer. This time it was a little different.'
Disclaimer: I don't own anything. Face down belongs to RJA and Doctor who definitely isn't mine.
AN: Named after the song Face Down by Red Jumpsuit Apparatus (RJA.) Just a little one shot. There is a tense change, of sorts, about half way through. The first half is like an overview/description of what always happens, so things like 'He'd spring immediately,' and 'He'd always smirk.' However, in the second half, we skip to the present, kinda, like what's happening at that exact moment, so it changes to things like 'He rolled his eyes' and 'he sneered.'
Warning: Heavily implied non con, mentions of violence, death, tyranny, some angst.
/
Face down in the dirt, she said,
"This doesn't hurt," she said,
"I finally had enough."
Face down in the dirt, she said,
"This doesn't hurt," she said,
"I finally had enough."
/
The Doctor didn't really know when it had started, just like he didn't know when it would end. He just knew he had to keep on fighting and that he wouldn't give it- despite how much he wanted it to stop. It didn't matter what happened to him, he'd repeatedly tried to reassure himself, so long as he could stop The Master eventually.
Every few days The Master would come visit him and things would always take a similar format, more or less. Of course, the way things panned out was always somewhat open to interpretation. The Master would de-age him, taking sadistic pleasure in the pain it caused him. He'd spring immediately, whilst The Doctor was trying to recover quick enough to get to his feet. He'd overwhelm him in seconds, using the fact that he'd always been stronger to his advantage. The Doctor never stood a chance. In no time at all, the elder Timelord would overwhelm him, and soon he'd have The Doctor exactly where he wanted him. Unclothed, and pinned beneath him, face down. The Doctor would struggle for all he was worth, he'd fight. He always did- despite the fact that it always proved to be pointless. The Master simply got what he wanted every time. He always overpowered him. And he would quickly thrust inside him, brisk and vicious. He never showed any mercy, but always seemed to take pleasure at the fact that he was in control, and at the fact that he'd cause him great pain and humiliation.
The Doctor would always try to stay afloat, and never stopped fighting- despite the pain. Sometimes, he'd keep on fighting and The Master would tear until his mind and mentally assault him until he gave in. Other times, he'd try and retreat inside his mind, so he would be unable to feel the weight of the older Timelord on top of him, so he wouldn't be able to feel the thrusts, or the burning pain that accompanied them. So he wouldn't be able to the smug, lewd things that The Master would always whisper in his ear. However, every time The Master would figure out what he was doing and either mentally assault him or increase the brutality of his thrusts, so it would be all that The Doctor could feel.
After what seemed like an age, The Master would finish. He'd let The Doctor go, and order him to dress, whilst putting his own clothes back on. The younger Timelord would always gladly do so. The Master would watch him, amused and smug at his silence. The Doctor always would be silent for several minutes afterwards, just sitting there. He couldn't be blamed for that, not considering what he'd been subjected to.
"So, have you had enough? Do you give in? Will you join me yet, Theta?" Every time The Master would ask a similar sort of question, and every time he would use the nickname. The Doctor's reply was usually similar too. He'd look up after a few moments.
"That isn't my name," he'd say simply, always managing to draw a shred of defiance from somewhere within him. No matter what his words were, they would be defiant. Usually, The Master would age him again, and simply leave, seeming irritated and bored.
This time was different though, for some reason. He rolled his eyes, looking down at the younger Timelord in a combination of disgust and disappointment.
"You're a fool, Doctor," he said. "You have the power to stop this." The Doctor didn't look at him; he simply dropped his gaze to the floor, tracing the small patterns on it with a somewhat vacant air. "I will never join you," he stated in a soft, but vehement tone. He much preferred it when The Master stuck to the 'usual format,' when he just left. It gave him more of a chance to try and deal with what had happened to him, again. Apparently he wasn't even allowed a chance at that this time though.
"Why?" The Master sneered. "Because of what I've done to the humans, or because of what I've done to you?"
"Because of what you've done to Earth and it's children," The Doctor responded shortly, without looking at him. He did a flinch a little at the question though, something which didn't go unnoticed by The Master, who smirked. "I'm sure that your own treatment is a contributing factor though."
The Doctor tensed but didn't say anything. It was a childish notion, but he kind of hoped that the other Timelord would leave if he ignored him. He was wrong, of course.
"As I said, join me and it will stop," The Master reinstated casually, in a one someone would comment about the weather. The Doctor inhaled sharply in a combination of disgust and anger. The fact that The Master was talking about it so candidly made his blood boil. He didn't understand how this man had the audacity to frequently do…that to him and then always offer him the chance to join him. He glanced up, his expression cold.
"I will not ever join you," he declared harshly. "You disgust me. You think you've won, but you're wrong."
"I don't know what reality you're living in, but I have won, Doctor," The Master said, rolling his eyes. He ignored The Doctor's other comments, because he didn't perceive them as being worth acknowledging.
"That'll forever be your downfall," The Doctor shakily got to his feet. His face was hard; his voice was soft, but like ice. "And as usual, you're wrong. You're going to get the shock of your life when you lose. And trust me, you will, because I beat you every time. And I always will!"
The Master rolled his eyes. He studied the younger Timelord calculatingly, which clearly made him uncomfortable. If he was being honest, he was a little surprised. He had expected The Doctor to break long before this. After all, he had frequently been violating his mind and his body. He knew that The Doctor was stronger than he looked, but now he couldn't help wondering if he'd underestimated him. It was quite irritating actually. He'd expected him to have given in and accepted the proposition well before now.
"Cat got your tongue?" The Doctor mocked. The Master smirked at him.
"You've already lost. The sooner you stop deluding yourself, the better. For now, though, I guess things will remain as they are. Until you come to your senses," without waiting for a reply, he turned on his heel and left the room, surprisingly without aging The Doctor. The door clicked shut behind him. It went without saying that at least two men with guns would be on guard outside. They always were. Even if they weren't, The Doctor probably wouldn't try to escape. He feared the consequences too much; mainly what would happen to other people though, since he didn't believe that The Master could do anything worse to him personally.
The Doctor practically sunk to the floor and ran a shaky hand through his hair, tugging frantically at the soft tresses. Of course he'd had enough and of course he wanted it to stop. He couldn't do anything though, not really. He had two options; to allow things to carry on as they were, or to join The Master. The second option was absolutely out of the question. He was damned either way. He didn't matter though, not really. The only important thing was that he managed to save Earth and restore the planet to its natural order. That didn't stop him feeling sick to his stomach though, nor did it override the urge to give in. He just wanted it to stop.
He took a deep breath and shook his head, closing his eyes. He shifted a few metres until his back was resting against the wall, grimacing in pain as he made the movement. "It doesn't matter what he does to me," he murmured, trying to convince himself. He then repeated the same statement several times in his head, a tremor racking his skinny frame. His eyes burned with tears, but he refused to let them fall. Not this time. He'd survived so far. He'd keep on fighting, he had to. He couldn't be selfish and do what was in his best interests, not when he was the only one who could save Earth; not when so much was a at stake. How could he save Earth, though, when he couldn't even save himself?
Face down in the dirt, she said,
"This doesn't hurt," she said,
"I finally had enough."
Face down in the dirt, she said,
"This doesn't hurt," she said,
"I finally had enough."
