Warnings: Character Study, Introspection, Missing Scene, Dark!Fic, Dark!Doctor AU, Dark Themes, Hints of Doctor/TARDIS
A/N: Written for who_contest's Prompt: Accent. This one just hit like a bolt out of the blue. The idea seemed delicious and all I had to do was wait a day or so for the right words to come. It got slightly out of hand (which is per usual) and (of course) didn't come out exactly as I had planned it (sketchy as those plans were), but I'm rather pleased with the results, even as they are my standard muddled nonsense (where I am unsure what is being said, only that is is being said as well as it can be). As always, this fic is mostly unbeta'd and written in one go, so please forgive any mistakes and/or blatant vagueness. And (as per usual), I apologize for any repetition, misspellings, sentence fails, grammatical oh-noes and general horridness. Unbeta'd fic is overly-thinky/blithery and unbeta'd.
Disclaimer(s): I do not own the scrumptious Doctor or his lovely companions. That honor goes to the BBC and (for now) the fantastic S. Moffat. The only thing that belongs to me is this fiction - and I am making no profit. Only playing about!
It was the small touches that sold the package. A young, innocent face. An eccentric affectation. A warm, inviting interior (reflective of the newest acquisition's hair, her personality), fiery, passionate –
His Girl was ingenious that way. Always had Them covered. After all, what was a madman who could travel all of time and space without his box? She was the most intimate Companion – and possibly madder than he was. The nightmares they'd concoct were the stuff of sheer brilliance.
To think Gallifrey had sought to suppress Her. How small-minded and feckless they had been.
Fingers caressed a brass rail with reverence. Cool skin tingling as he stroked the rough edges of Her console.
She hummed in appreciation, images of what was to come flickering through the empty spaces of his mind's eye. He was new yet. It would come together, but it took time…
Patience was never one of his strong suits.
Good thing that this time, it didn't have to be.
"I looked into the Void and it looked into me," he murmured, fingers now stroking the silky feel of the tie at his throat – an accent that would only serve to make this harmless façade something to be easily dismissed. An advantage he would be sure to exploit. "I saw the Silence. The end of all Things. And it was so, so beautiful…"
If he could cry, he would have; the Joy so complete within the cracked spaces of his soul, he did not know how he could contain it behind these eyes so old and the face so young. He saw what was to come – the delicious chaos that would spill out beneath Their timelines – and he could have wept from the sheer awe and wonder Their destiny invoked within his tarnished spirit.
It had taken so, so long. He had failed so many, many times. The Awakening of his true self an epiphany all its own. His predecessor had struggled, had fought this ultimate perfection – only to bring it about by the simplest, most devastating of deaths. A fly beating its wings against its glass prison, a butterfly emerging from its cocoon…they were the same thing.
That was the irony of it.
He stole a magic box and ran away, only to discover that he had wasted his lives learning the wrong lessons. She had shown him this. She had absorbed the Death he brought back to Her and rewarded him with clarity and understanding.
Together, they died. Then rebirth. A whole new way to see, to know Their Universe.
They would find Their way, hand in hand (as it were): the Mad Machine and Her Boy of Infinite Possibility. She showed him the way – he would happily follow. Fall into the events that would gain them traction against the enemy they would create for themselves.
Borusa's words (so long ago), now made perfect sense: It was a game, within a Game.
The board was already set.
Now was the time to fetch the pawns…and play.