Road to Nowhere
by Schildkroete
-
"Now, I really wouldn't do that, if I were you."
The old man in front of the console looked up in surprise and quite a bit of shock. No-one was expected to be able to enter his stronghold, where he was just now activating the machine that would detonate five-thousand radioactive devices and destroy half of the planet. He looked around for his minions but they where nowhere to be seen.
"And why is that?" he asked the man who had spoken to him and straightened a little. The third man, who just now entered the room, could tell by the way he glanced left and right that he was looking for any kind of weapon, but there wouldn't be one. His stronghold was supposed to be safe, after all.
"Because my friend Allen and I, we took apart your generator and reconnected some of the wires. If you push that button, you'll explode."
The man referred to as 'Allen' watched with amusement and a little bit annoyed as his companion tired to talk the old man out of activating his device. Of course, the man who wanted to take over this world – or what would be left of it afterwards – didn't believe what he'd just been told and seemed keen to try his luck. Allen didn't see the point in stopping him. He was evil and deserved no better, he was old so he wouldn't lose that much life and his plan had been stupid anyway. Still, he knew the Doctor would have to try, there was no point arguing about it and right now was hardly the time. So he just rolled his eyes and watched, and ran when the Doctor told him to, because naturally the old man did push the button in the end and ended in a way that was very impressive indeed, if somewhat messy.
-
Allen Winterfield had joined the Doctor two weeks ago in outer space and the year 3961, when the ship he'd been on had exploded and he'd just made it inside the TARDIS in time. He hadn't exactly been invited to come along but he never left and the Doctor didn't ask him to.
Allen had worked as a mechanic on that ship and despite the fact that it eventually exploded into a million pieces, the Doctor had been impressed by his work, which was far ahead of its time. Besides, the man had helped him in his efforts to save the ship and the rest its crew, and though they ultimately failed, he had to show some gratitude.
And it was nice to have a reminder that he did save one life at least, among the dozen that died.
He tried not to dwell on those thoughts. And really, it was easier with Allen around. The man had an enviable talent to be bothered by absolutely nothing. Sometimes the Doctor thought that to be a little disconcerting. But every so often he let himself be dragged along and thought 'So what?', if only for a moment.
He still couldn't find it in himself not to care.
The TARDIS hummed gently when they left Halacron II. They'd saved a planet today, and that was a reason to celebrate, wasn't it? Strangely enough, he didn't feel very cheerful right now – hadn't for quite a while. Instead he felt a little nervous, a little worried, as if something bad was about to happen. The slightly restless feeling just before the storm, when the sky is already dark.
"You're grieving for that old guy?" Allen's voice cut through his thoughts and pulled him back to reality. The Doctor smiled and shook his head.
"Hardly. He's had his chance." Allen grimaced a little.
"But you had to give him that, hadn't you?" The Doctor merely shrugged. There wasn't any point to this discussion.
He let the TARDIS chose the destination on her own and left the console room to have tea with his companion. There were clocks on the walls, each left by one friend or another. Each showed a different time, not that it would matter. Time had no meaning here.
The clock in the kitchen was small, grey, plain. Very unremarkable. The Doctor rather liked it for some unfathomable reason. It was broken.
He needed a moment to realise it. Then he left his chair and stepped closer to examine the broken glass. The sweep hands had stopped at half past ten.
He turned and looked at Allen.
"Did you do that?" he asked, confused. Allen shook his head. Coming from the fortieth century he was much harder to be impressed by the wonders of space and time than the humans of earlier ages, and sometimes his 'been there, done that' attitude got on the Doctor's nerves. Right now, though, he looked positively intrigued by a broken clock.
All around the TARDIS the other clocks ticked on.
-
"If it had been me, I would have destroyed only one city, one country at most, to show that I can," Allen gave his opinion of today's villain. "Would leave more planet to rule."
The Doctor sipped his tea.
"Sometimes I find your way of seeing things a bit worrisome."
"Oh, come on, it was obvious. Even you should know that his plan was rubbish."
"Of course it was. We stopped him, didn't we?" The Doctor paused. "But then, we're very good."
"Oh yes, we are!" Allen agreed and leaned back in his chair, folding his arms behind his head.
They looked at each other for a moment and grinned.
-
Much later – it was impossible to tell the time inside a TARDIS, even for him, and he could never remember what a clock had told the last time he'd looked at it, but it felt like much later – Allen found the Doctor in the garden. He was sitting on a bench with his back turned to his companion and didn't move when he came closer.
It almost felt like a real garden, outside, on a planet, except for the sky that wasn't there.
"You should leave," the Doctor said. Allen raised his eyebrows in surprise. It wasn't like the Doctor to kick out his companions, but he could guess his motivation.
"Well, I'm not," he told him.
"Why not?"
Allen came to stand behind the Doctor.
"Why would I want to?"
"Why would you want to stay? There's not much this life can give you that you wouldn't find in your own time." It was a lie but Allen had not made much of an effort to be impressed by what the Doctor had shown him in the past weeks. The one thing that did impress him, against his will, was the Doctor's ability to look at the universe with the eyes of a child and love it.
His hand touched the other's long, curly hair, slid beneath it to brush over the skin of his neck. Came to rest on his cheek.
"It's not for the life you can offer that I am staying," he said.
The Doctor didn't react to the gesture, or the words. He didn't move, at all, sat totally still before him and Allen knew that this was as far as he could go. He removed his hand.
"Why do you want me to leave?" he asked the obvious question. The Doctor shrugged, trying to sound nonchalant.
"I can't tell. Maybe it's nothing."
But Allen could tell that he wanted to believe it himself and couldn't. He remembered how cool the Doctor's skin had felt under his touch and wondered how much he was missing.
-
Three stops of the TARDIS later, Allen kissed the Doctor.
The Time Lord hadn't said anything but Allen knew that things where changing. The Doctor seemed restless and nervous, almost haunted whenever they stopped somewhere. The man who had been Allen Winterfield once reached out with all the senses he had and found nothing but his own single heartbeat in his human chest. He wasn't sure if he should curse the circumstances or call himself lucky.
When he made his way to his room one day he noticed that the clock beside his door was cracked, having stopped at five past eleven. Interesting. He didn't tell the Doctor.
It wasn't necessary. The universe itself told him as it shifted and cracked.
The constellations where changing.
And Allen knew, before he told him, that the Doctor would not ask him to leave this time. He'd set the coordinates to Earth in the year they'd met and when the TARDIS came to a halt he looked him in the eye and said: "Time to go home."
For both of them. Allen knew.
So he stopped at the door, his hands on the Doctor's shoulders, for the first time really noticing that the other was a little smaller than him.
"Let me say goodbye then," he said, and leaned in, and pressed his lips against the Doctor's, softly. It was almost chaste, except it lasted a little too long, and then Allen's hand slid from the Doctor's shoulder to his neck, then to the back of his head, not pulling him closer but preventing him from pulling away. The Doctor didn't try.
Neither of them closed their eyes.
Eventually Allen broke the kiss, smiled at the Doctor, affectionately, and opened the door.
He stopped. And pretended to be surprised when he saw himself confronted with a wide, open landscape full of grass and nothing where a city should have been. Like he hadn't changed the coordinates himself when he'd been alone in the console room.
"Your navigation really sucks", he told the Doctor.
-
As expected, they didn't try again right away. The Doctor took some time for repairs both of them knew where useless. Allen knew he felt uncomfortable around him because of the kiss, although both of them acted like it never happened.
Outside the snow was falling. The beginning of an ice-age, thousands of years before anything remotely human would walk these lands.
In the end Allen had only postponed the farewell, but that was all he'd intended to do. He had no desire to accompany the Doctor when he returned to his home planet. Even like this he could read the signs.
Finally the Doctor left his ship in peace and went outside. Allen followed shortly after, finding the other man standing on a hill and looking up into the night sky that was full of stars now that the snow had stopped. Allen could only guess what he was thinking when he followed his gaze and searched in vain for Kelandor, Estas, Carino.
He hated the way his breath froze in front of his face.
When he stood right behind the Doctor Allen opened his long, wide coat and wrapped it around both of them. The Doctor turned to look at him, surprised.
"I'm not cold," he said. Allen rested his head on his shoulder.
"I am," he murmured. The Doctor only stayed in his arms for a moment before slipping away.
"We should leave anyway. Get back inside."
When he turned to walk back to the TARDIS Allen grabbed his arm, pulled him closer. This time the kiss was far from chaste and one hand was searching for a way beneath those layers of clothing, but when he tried to part the Doctor's lips with his tongue the other pulled away.
"I don't do that," he said, softly, an apology. Allen watched him leave and a sense of dread washed over him as he stood on this cold, cold planet under a sky that wasn't right, alone.
-
The clock in the console room was broken. The Doctor didn't look at the time.
His gaze was fixed on the monitor before him and the message he had found it displaying when he'd returned. A message from home, send by the high council of the Time Lords. A message he'd been expecting, that had made his hearts miss a beat none the less.
He'd never thought he'd have to return to Gallifrey under such circumstances. Sometimes he doubted ever returning there at all, but to this he could not turn his back. He was responsible for the situation after all, starting a conflict thousands and thousands of years in the past by trying to prevent it. True, he'd been assigned by the high council then and at that time there didn't seem to be much of an alternative. Still, he'd been the one to do it and now they all had to face the consequences of his actions.
In his mind he replayed the events of the fateful mission over an over, finding ways that lead to a different outcome he hadn't found then. If only, if only. He tried to ban these thought from his mind. This was one part of the past he couldn't change.
He started the engines the moment Allen closed the doors behind him. It was time to say goodbye now and tough he genuinely liked his companion a part of him was glad because things where getting complicated.
He knew Allen's attempts for sexual contact didn't have to be a sign of too much affection – humans where quite capable of meaningless sex. Only, he was not. And he was even less capable of sex that meant something. Because he would only ever sleep with someone he loved, completely. And the moment he did he would cross a line that mustn't ever be crossed and that person would get too close. The Doctor needed to keep his distance. Otherwise it would hurt too much to let them go.
They all left in the end.
Allen would find someone else in the life he was about to return to. He would soon forget the Doctor and live his ordinary, admirable life in a universe that fell apart around him and maybe he would grow old and die without ever suffering the consequences of a mistake the Time Lords, the Doctor, had made lifetimes ago.
But maybe he would, and already the world was crumbling beneath their feet.
For a moment, the guilt was crippling.
-
They would need some time to reach their destination, Earth, 3961, and this time there was no way around it. Allen stood alone in the console room after the Doctor had left, maybe trying to avoid any further confrontation with his obvious advances. The man who was so much older than the body he occupied smiled to himself at the thought that he could make the Doctor so uncomfortable with a few small gestures.
When he walked around the console he found a message on the small monitor. It was the underlying seal that made him curious, made him step closer and read. The TARDIS did not translate this language but he could read it anyway, shivering as he interpreted the symbols.
It was a call to war.
In the end, it was merely a confirmation of what he'd already suspected but it brought back the dread he'd felt earlier, if only for the span of a heartbeat. A part of him felt nothing but satisfaction at the knowledge that the Time Lords finally got what had been coming for them. Another part was, for the first time, grateful for the circumstances that had put him into this human body and beyond their reach, for he knew that this was a war they were unlikely to win.
And one part of him realised that he might not see the Doctor ever again.
The Time Lord was lying on his bed when he found him, staring at the ceiling. He seemed to do that a lot lately, but then again, there would be a lot on his mind these days. Allen looked at him and wondered if he could take him by force if he wanted to. It was hard to tell, with the Doctor being a Time Lord and him not, but then again he didn't really intend to try.
The Doctor sat up when he noticed him.
"We should reach our destination shortly," said with a smile. "Was there something you wanted?" he added when Allen didn't leave.
"Are you tired?" Allen asked instead of a reply. The Doctor sat on the edge of his bed, running one hand through his hair.
"A little," he admitted. "I need some time to think." It was a clear request for him to leave but Allen ignored it and sat beside him on the bed. Not touching.
"What's wrong?" he asked softly, because the Doctor couldn't know he already knew. "There's something bothering you. Why do I have to go?"
"Just some trouble at home," the Doctor said, playing it down. "It would be dangerous to come."
"It's been dangerous before," Allen pointed out.
"This is different."
"Will it be dangerous for you?"
"Not more than usually," the Doctor said. Allen smiled at him.
"You're lying." It wasn't a question this time. The Doctor didn't answer and didn't look at him.
"I'm not going to see you again, am I?" Allen said quietly. The Doctor shook his head in silence.
"Are you scared?"
Again, the Doctor didn't answer. He didn't seem to notice when Allen gently rubbed his back but went stiff when he pulled him into a hug.
"I'm not going to ask any questions," Allen murmured into his hair. "You don't have to tell me anything." And he gently kissed his hair, just above his ear, and held him a little tighter.
-
This was the moment to pull back and walk away, the Doctor thought. But the hand on his back felt comforting and he was tired of running. He was tired of everything. The apprehension of things to come was draining his energy, leaving him empty. For a moment the urge to break down and cry, to take advantage of the shoulder that was offered, was overwhelming. He didn't.
Swallowing his emotions he prepared to free himself from the supporting arms wrapped around him and walk away. When the arms tightened their hold ever so slightly he gave up. For one moment he would have given everything for not knowing of the war to come and what they could lose.
And he was so scared.
He would go anyway. Drop Allen in his time and head back to Gallifrey to defend it or, if he was lucky, not to life long enough to watch it fall. But right now Allen was still here and Gallifrey was still very far away.
When he felt a warm, human hand slide beneath his shirt he closed his eyes.
There was little point in running anyway, when all the roads lead to nowhere.
-
The Doctor didn't actively help, but neither did he protest when Allen gently pushed him onto his back, and began to remove his clothes. He let him caress his naked body, shivering and squirming under his touch, and when Allen kissed him he parted his lips and let him shove his tongue into his mouth.
The skin he was touching was cool and smooth and reminded him that he was the alien here.
When he slid into him he was gently, considerate, waiting for the Doctor to adjust before starting to move. After a while the Doctor wrapped his arms around his neck and let his head fall back, exposing his throat. Allen slid his arms around his back in return and held him close while he licked the soft skin just beneath his chin, the way he had imagined it as a boy, not as a man, twisted by the world. Being human the telepathic link was closed to him but he considered leaning in and whispering his secret into the Doctor's ear. In his mind's eye he could see the look on his face when realisation hit and the mental picture nearly made him come. Then his mind wandered beyond that and he saw himself in a cell on Gallifrey, facing his end in an impossible war. So he leaned in and whispered his other secret, the one the Doctor might never believe, even like this, the one that could destroy both of them, the one that would.
The Doctor's eyes widened for a second, then closed. A single tear fell from his eye and ran into his hair. He didn't say anything and his companion pressed another kiss to his lips to show he didn't want him to while around then the universe flew by and didn't care.
-
Allen left the TARDIS in the middle of a crowded place in Boston of February 3962. He didn't say anything when he stepped through the doors and into the real world and didn't look back. He'd already had his goodbye.
Now his first concern was to get to Australia, where his own TARDIS was parked. He stopped in his steps, then decided that this was not a good time to enter a TARDIS, where they could find him. He'd have to bear this era a little longer, until the war was over, one way or another.
The war in which the Doctor would fight and most likely die.
He smiled at the thought and shook his head to himself. The Doctor was a survivor, just like him. He would not let himself get killed by Daleks, or anything else. Even if all Time Lords were to be erased from existence, they would be the only ones left.
And if the Doctor did die after all, well, he'd have one enemy less to worry about. In a universe that had nothing to offer.
When he reached a corner he turned around to look back at the place but the TARDIS had already left. Going home.
The Master shrugged and walked on, towards a future he didn't know.
- end
July 22, 2007