Disclaimer: I don't own Doctor Who. Really.
He was ready.
The crystal in his hand felt like it was burning a hole into his palm, and he winced. He placed it back in his pocket, although he had to nervously keep checking that it was still there. There was nowhere else that it would go, but that didn't get rid of the fear that it would disappear.
Maybe part of him wanted it to.
Turlough didn't really want to kill the Doctor. It would be murder. But he needed to get home and the opportunity on how to do so had presented itself, so it would be all right really. Besides, he'd be gone afterwards, and nobody need know what had happened.
He grimaced and got up. He was clutching something to his chest, as he stood up, a little dazed by what he was about to do. This was his best opportunity. Nyssa was gone, and Tegan would hopefully be asleep and thus would never be aware of what transpired. The Doctor ought to be sleeping too, but undoubtedly he'd notice. Turlough supposed he just had to get the damage in before the man could do anything about it.
His feet dragged along the corridor, a silent protest to his forthcoming actions. He ignored them as best he could. The walk seemed to last an eternity, and he felt like he was losing progress with every step he took – like he was walking backwards through time in a bid to be away from it all, for there to be an end, somewhere.
The Doctor's door. (He'd have to thank Tegan for giving him that tour!) He clutched the door handle, looking inside warily. He had to suffocate the man – the less of a messy end, the better. The less suspicion falling on him, the better – he didn't need to give Tegan any more reasons to distrust him.
He took a step forwards, and suddenly the Doctor sat up, eyes fixed on his face. Turlough felt like a naughty child being admonished for some foolish but harmless joke, but now the stakes were so much higher. "Turlough?" the Doctor questioned, eyebrow raised, but neither of them were fooled by his tone.
"I was looking for the bathroom."
The Doctor smiled. "Ah, rather like a maze, isn't it? I'm sure you'll get used to it."
"Yes. Yes, I will," he replied, all the while thinking, please don't make me have to get used to it. I want to get off this ship, to go home…
The gaze on him still felt like lasers tearing at his skin. Squinting, the Doctor asked, "Turlough? Is that what I think it is?"
He had a good idea what the Doctor was thinking – he'd been on Earth for long enough. The Doctor was obviously having far too much contact with humans – as was Turlough himself – if he could recognise the possible connotations of being at the door to another's bed room, wielding a pillow.
Though he didn't think the Doctor would rule out an attempted strangulation theory. The man acted as if he could see right through a person, which was quite ridiculous considering his decision to allow Turlough onto his crew in the first place. The Time Lord was only still alive because he was lucky!
"No," Turlough replied, and turned around and left the room. He felt as if the crystal was staring at him accusingly, and it could see him at all sides. He wouldn't be surprised – he could almost hear the Black Guardian's voice – pathetic.
An echo followed him down the corridor. "Everyone has choices." It was disturbingly appropriate.
Turlough could see no way off the ship, no place to hide and feel like he wasn't being observed. Not for the first time, he was cursing the deal with the Black Guardian, but in the same way, he had the uncanny feeling that he'd do the same again, if given another chance.
He'd wanted to get off Earth, and he hadn't cared about the price. Earth was a dump – though from what he'd seen so far, it was perhaps comparatively good, but he didn't have to care about that.
The Doctor was a good man. It was a shame, but Turlough had promises to fulfil, and he wasn't going to stop just for one man. If he started that, when would he stop?
Yes, he definitely didn't want to kill the man. But what use was that? Morals – he wondered if the humans had given them to him, or if they were his own. He couldn't even tell anymore. He wasn't even sure that he had the ability to kill the man.
"I'm sorry," he told the crystal, but if anything its searing pain was even more vivid than before. He didn't want to work for this guy.
And if he didn't want to kill the Doctor, why should he? Shaking the thoughts away, Turlough ended up back in his room and flopped down onto the bed. It was too much to think about, and no time to make such a potentially life-changing decision. Maybe in the morning, he thought, and fell asleep.