AN/ This fic takes place during 'The Sound of Drums.' I was outraged at what was done to the TARDIS, and once again I had to write about it to vent my feelings. At the time of writing and posting this, I've not yet seen 'Last of the Time Lords.' (Though I really, REALLY want to.) The BBC owns everything. I just write about it.
There is only pain. Not the dull ache of a worn-out part, but a hot, screaming pain. Excruciating. I can't see anything. I feel like I am blind, only instead of seeing nothing but blackness, everything is red. In a way, it's just as dark.
My own private Hell. Cannibalised. Ripped apart. The Master doesn't care about me. He ignored my screams while he was doing this to me. I could do nothing to stop him. I could only weep metaphorically and angst and wish that my Doctor would come and save me.
Now I fear that even if he does come, even if my Doctor does manage to find me, it would be too late. Am I too far gone to help? It is certainly too late to stop my horrid new function from happening. A Paradox Machine. I know that I'm going to be forced to rip open space, allowing for the death of millions of people.
I am ill to even think it. I am trapped, a prisoner. I am alone. I am being tortured. I wish it would end. I can't stand the pain. I'm going to die, and I won't even get to say goodbye to my Doctor.
Wait… what's that? There is a signal, unique and beautiful. I'd recognise it anywhere and anytime.
I scream, wishing and hoping and praying that he hears me.
DOCTOR! DOCTOR! MY DOCTOR! PLEASE, COME TO ME! HELP ME! PLEASE, DOCTOR! HELP!
He has heard me! I know he has, because I can sense him getting closer. Jack and Martha are both with him. I don't care now that Jack still feels vaguely wrong to me. Anything is better than the pain I'm in right now.
DOCTOR! PLEASE…
They've found me! They rejoice, but I don't have the energy to. Jack wonders what I'm doing on the Valliant, but for the time being the Doctor doesn't care. They're happy because of all the times in the past - and the future - when seeing me represented hope. So long as the Doctor had me, everything was going to be okay. I could get them out of a dangerous situation, or the Doctor could use my systems to help solve whatever problems they were facing. They don't think that this time would be any different. With me, they have more of an advantage.
Sadly, that isn't the case this time.
As soon as the Doctor and his companions step through my doors, their faces and hearts drop. They pause to stare at what I've become. I know I look horribly mangled. My console room, once bathed in a cool, calm and soothing greenish-blue from my Time Rotor, is now filled with an angry red hue. Where my console and Time Rotor once was is now the paradox machine, almost ready to be set off. It's encased in a metal grating, a constricting cage to match the one the Master has placed around my heart. Some steam is escaping from the new controls and a high-pitched tone is beeping out a warning.
I realise I'm having trouble sensing their minds. It hurts way too much to concentrate. I used a lot of energy calling for my Doctor. I know that he is outraged though. His anger at what has been done to me is palpable in the air. Jack is equally upset. The memories he has with me are just as fond as the memories he has with the Doctor.
"What the hell's he done?" Jack demands.
"Don't touch it!" the Doctor warns sharply.
"I'm not going to," Jack replies, his voice full of worry for me. I feel my heart tighten some more. I can't be touched. I can receive no comfort.
Martha, who always somewhat chided herself for thinking that I was alive, knows that something is very, very wrong. "What's he done though? Sounds like it's sick," she says, concerned.
'Sick' is an understatement, my dear Martha Jones. She doesn't understand what the Master has done to me, all she knows is that it is not good.
The Doctor has gotten over his initial shock and runs up to the cage around my mangled controls. "It can't be," he breathes, recognising the machine. He tries to deny it, but there it is, right in front of his eyes and lodged firmly in his mind like a thorn. "No, no, no, no, no, no! It can't be!" the Doctor roars, becoming every bit the oncoming storm.
"Doctor, what is it?" Martha asks.
"He's cannibalised the TARDIS," the Doctor replies tensely.
Jack thinks he may know what I've become, be he too doesn't want to believe it. "Is that what I think it is?"
"It's a Paradox Machine," the Doctor confirms, sounding grim.
I feel the Doctor's mind probing, searching for his link with me. I weakly reach out to him.
"My Doctor…"
His hearts break a little for me. "I'm here, it's okay."
"No, it's not okay."
I know the Doctor agrees with me, but he also knows that although there's many steps he has to go through in order to set things right, he will still do it. I try to take hope from his confidence.
He squats down next to a dial that's positioned on the outside of the cage and taps on it. The needle is at the middle of the dial. "As soon as this hits red, it activates," he tells his companions. "With this speed, it'll trigger it at…" he grabs Jack's wrist and looks from his watch to the dial. "Two minutes past eight."
"First contact is at eight," Jack recalls, his eyes scanning the Paradox Machine wearily. "Then two minutes later…"
Martha tries to understand. "What's it for? What's a Paradox Machine do?"
"More important, can you stop it?" Jack asks the Doctor.
The Doctor is trying to form a plan. His mental gears are ticking over so hard I can sense it even in my weakened state. "I'll find out what he's doing. Touch the wrong bit and it'll blow up the solar system."
Martha kneels next to him. "Then we've got to get to the Master."
"Yeah, how are we going to stop him?" Jack inquires urgently.
The Doctor has retreated into a calm state of mind. It's something I've seen him do many times before. In the absolute worst possible scenario with only one little hope, the Doctor becomes calm and almost cheerful. It's a tactic that unnerves the enemy, and many times his companions as well. "Oh, I've got a way," the Doctor says, his voice casual. Jack and Martha stare at him. He looks from one to another, his face cracking into a bit of a grin. "Sorry, didn't I mention it?"
Martha looks at him unbelievingly. The Doctor just grins wider and gets up, leading them towards my doors. He pauses for just a second to send me another mental message.
"I'll get you out of this and I'll fix you, I promise. Trust me."
He manages to give me hope. I vow that even if he runs out of time and the machine goes off, I will stay alive for him.
Reassured that the Doctor will do all he can, and weakened to the point that I can't fight the pain any more, I slip into my equivalent of unconsciousness.