The End of Time: Rewritten
A/N: It is 00:48. The perfect time to write my first Doctor Who fiction (it was really bugging me). This is my first, so I'm sorry in advance if I don't get the characters right and about any spelling mistakes. It's always annoyed me how The Master forgot to take The Doctor's sonic from him, after fighting him for so long and it would have change the story on some form. Sooo…. This is my edit of 'The End Of Time – Part II'; it may not go in the same order as the episode but does start from the very beginning. Sorry if the intros a little long winded!
Disclaimer:I do not own Doctor Who or any of the characters. If I did would I really sit here daydreaming nonsense when I could be running round the TARDIS, playing hide and seek with The Doctor and the Ood.
Chapter 1:
The Master turned to see his creations. Over six billion versions of himself and not a single human being in sight, except for this rather old and annoying Wilfred Mott. Immediately, he ordered his guards to take hold of The Doctor and Wilfred. Guns drawn, two men held back a struggling Doctor. Each wrenched an arm behind him, training their guns in their spare hands to his back. The last guard escorted Wilf from the glass chamber towards The Master equally held back without the use of firearms. They stood silently for a second, almost acknowledging each other.
The Doctor swallowed and began to form his words carefully, 'Master please, just listen…'
He hesitated cautiously, watching The Master circle round him till he fell out of view. He could feel The Master breathing down his neck between the two guards, just another way to enforce his authority. He enjoyed keeping The Doctor in the dark.
With baited breath, The Doctor closed his eyes and continued, 'Just wait. Please...-'
He stopped again eyes wide open and alert, blood rushing in as his heart rate grew quicker, but stayed controlled. Pulling out a gun from the guard's belt The Master had placed the cold, metal butt of the gun onto The Doctor's neck. He threatened it further, as he felt The Doctor's voice rise, it was his turn to talk. He turned round to face The Doctor, his gun still posed threateningly at his throat. The Master thrilled by his enemy's fear, began to trail the gun around his body. A childish menacing smile pulled at his mouth as he felt The Doctor stiffen beneath the metal. He watched The Doctor's tense eyes follow the gun to his chest and back up. In one quick movement he pulled the gun to The Doctor's head, the gun clicked in place as a growing anger seethed into The Master. He was enjoying this.
The Doctor's jaw tightened watching the gun with raging fear; he knew he would die, but now? The Doctor tested him gingerly, 'Y- you wouldn't?' he whispered, an edge of panic in his voice.
'Oooh, but I want to', he grounded out. The Master hated him enough to kill him and part of him longed to see the Timelord dead but he couldn't do it. He wouldn't kill his final link to Galifrey, to home. But he would watch him fear it. Gun still tightly gripped to his head, The Master released the pistol, only long enough for The Doctor to sigh a sign of relief before he replaced the cold air with a clean swipe of his fist.
'I've had a year of your constant pleas to help me. So I'll tell you now. If I wanted help, I wouldn't get IT from YOU.' The Master's words became progressively louder and more aggressive. By the end, he had lowered his hand towards The Doctor's chest and let out a short sharp burst of energy. White fire coursed through his body, paralysing each nerve like a bullet through paper.
The Doctor's body quickly sank in his captors' arms as the pain elapsed his system. He held his own footing and stayed silent, determined to keep up his integral presence. It was then that Wilf had decided to fill the tensed silence. 'What d'you want with him then, eh?' Wilfred may not have been the strongest of men, but he was certainly brave. Making it his aim to stop the Doctor dying, he attempted to get this Saxon-master bloke's attention. It had earned him a warning glance off the Doctor; he'd had enough people dying in his name.
The Master turned to Wilf, considering the human in his grand plan. 'I want what I've always wanted from The Doctor.' He paused dramatically, grinning from ear to ear, 'I want him to DECLARE that I am his Lord and Master. Of all of time and space, of every ounce and fibre of his body and mind.' He glanced back at The Doctor as though sealing his fate. The Doctor restrained, gave him his 'Leave-him-out-of-this' look, but the Master just turned to revel in Wilf's reaction.
'Fat chance of that', the words blurted out of Wilfred without seconds thought. It almost sounded like something Donna would say.
But it wasn't received well as The Master turned to him quickly. 'I'd keep quiet if I were you, old man. Just think I can still turn you into me,' he sneered, leaning in a little closer so only Wilfred would hear, 'and how much better would you look with my face on it'
Wilfred's face turned to a look of disgust and fear as he realised just how insane this monster was. With fear in his eyes he turned to The Doctor, there was only a dying hint of hope and it was too much for him. He felt like a little lost boy again, caught in the middle of a war.
With the Master's words, 'take them to the main room,' the two were roughly led away to await their inevitable destinies.
The room was of a moderately large size for a mansion. It was well decorated and furnished, yet crudely edited into a control room by The Master's minions. A few more had joined to restrain the prisoners. Roped and bound Wilfred sat passively in his chair as he watched the original Master tie off the final straps on the Doctor's chair; holding his head back at a tiring angle and tightly gagging him too.
Holding on to the mouth strap's end, The Master pulled it back further than it should have allowed. A manic smile plastered his face as he watch The Doctor's skin crease and reddened in his rigid grip. He stared into his nemesis eyes, raging creeping in at the sides as he held him subdued for the moment. A moment yet unbroken.
He leaned in closer, a firm hand on The Doctor's chest warning him as he held his face inches away from him. The Doctor's face edging away, uncomfortable in his position. Their foreheads touched and The Master's eyes melted as he watched The Doctor squirm beneath him. His hand slipping beneath his suit.
'Don't you touch him!' Wilf's voice caught them off guard. He'd forgotten his audience, encapsulated in his greatest prize. The Master did not move, but simply tilted his head to face the human. 'Why?' he asked in true curiosity, malice tripping into his voice. How could The Doctor mean so much to him? He'd never even taken him into space, messed his grand-daughter's life and yet he still adored him. Just as everyone else seemed to. Wilfred stayed silent, unsure of his words. He had no rule over The Master, and there was certainly nothing he could say to make The Master change his mind. He sat and watched the gleeful Master turn to his Timelord prisoner.
Holding him close, a smile spread across his face like an infection. 'Found it,' The Master jeered triumphantly, jumping back The Doctor and sending two burst of energy his way in ecstasy. The Doctor twisted in pain, his gag holding in his moan. He watched with Wilf in confusion, it seemed that The Master was far worse than clinically insane.
'What? Did you think I loved you, wanted you, Doctor? That my hearts poured out for you?' he pouted, mocking The Doctor, 'Think again!' His voice rose, revealing the Doctor's sonic and TARDIS key in hand. He'd picked from The Doctor's pocket, slyly. A smug smile upon his face, 'I know better than to leave you armed, no TARDIS, no sonic. You're not leaving that soon.'
Having completed his work, he grinned a chilling and sinister smirk before addressing his clones on the large screen before him.
A/N: REVIEWS ARE KINDLY WELCOMED.